#yandere reader

cw: masturbation

“Okay… You can do this.” 

Leon’s fingers drum against the steering wheel of his rental car as he slowly drives through the dark neighborhood. It’s a less friendlier part of town, so the self pep talk is necessary. He didn't want to risk coming in with his personal car, and he hopes the sedan he picked doesn't stand out too much. Even his outfit has been chosen carefully—a dark hoodie pulled over his head that shadows his features. He feels a bit ridiculous, but he knows this is what it takes to get the jobe done. 

The job being stalking his alleged stalker.

He turns off the engine once at the address on her file, having a good view of the place. It's an apartment building among many, only three stories high with outer red brick walls. The streets are quiet for now, so he takes his time to observe the unfamiliar vicinity from his spot. 

The records named a ‘Naomi Carter Freeman’ and a ‘Jayden Freeman’ at the residence, people Leon assumes are part of her family. He didn't get to look into either one due to fear of being caught this time, but he recalls the mention of a sister, so he concludes Naomi is the sibling in question.

He decides to stay in the car for now and simply watch the comings and goings of the few people out at the time—past 7 p.m. on a cold Thursday. Most don't pay him mind, but some walk by the car curiously, with interested looks, and he has to make himself smaller, sinking into his seat out of fear of being too perceived. 

He pretends to scroll his phone to pass the time, waiting for something—anything—until the universe answers his patience and he sees a couple come out of the building. A tall man pushing a stroller and a long haired woman walking beside him, the both appearing to be in their late twenties. At first, he doesn't think much of it, but then, behind them trails the girl and his heart nearly stops at the sight of her. He quickly rolls down the passenger window an inch, just to hear their conversation carry through the quiet evening air.

“Come on, we're already running late,” the woman, who the policeman assumes is Naomi, walks ahead. 

She doesn't look anything like the other girl, and that's how Leon figures out she's her foster sister from her days in the system rather than a biological sibling. He contemplates the thought for a moment—if they're both aged out of foster care but still choose to live together, then their relationship must have been strong. It warms his heart to see their bond lasting despite Max’s evil warnings.

“I still don't understand why you're making me go to this thing… I have work in like four hours,” the girl grumbles, adjusting the sleeves of her jacket. 

“Because when friends invite you for dinner you show up,” Naomi retorts, reproach clear in her voice. “That's what people do when they care for each other. They don't just disappear.”

“Oh, so this is another one of your lessons. Well, thanks, but I really don't need one right now.”

“Hey, don't start you two.” The man, seemingly Jayden, interjects before the discussion can escalate once they reach a parked car. 

The policeman’s own vehicle is only a few feet away, and he lowers himself even further in his seat as he continues to spy on the oblivious group. 

“I’m just saying… Keeping some actual good company can only benefit her. Instead of hanging out with that Max criminal,” Naomi adds as she picks up the baby that was being pushed in the stroller.

Leon wishes he could shout that he wholeheartedly agrees.

“I swear to God, Mimi… I already told you I broke up with him—” 

The rest of the girl’s response is muffled when she enters the car and slams her door shut. Soon after, she's followed by Naomi—or ‘Mimi’—once she buckles the child in the carseat, and Jayden after putting away the stroller in the trunk. A minute later, the old hatchback vehicle pulls out of the parking lot, and drives away with a low rumble of engine. 

Straightening back in his seat, Leon takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart, feeling his nerves settle back down now that he's out of the risk of being caught. He replays in his mind the conversation he just heard and focuses on one specific comment she made; she has to work in four hours. What kind of job starts at midnight? A night shift, clearly, but where? 

He doesn't believe the lie she told him that very first night about working at a food place. It doesn't hold up anyways since no food place is staying open that late unless it's a 24/7 diner, which there are none in the area they met. He has never felt so curious about someone before, and it’s only a matter of time before he finds himself doing something utterly stupid to find out more.

Leon exits his car quietly, then moves closer to the building until he’s standing between two windows of the lower floor. If his research on the apartment website is correct, then unit #104 is exactly where he's standing according to the layout. 

He looks around him, making sure no one is in sight before he tries to pry open the first window. Unfortunately, it remains unmoved, and he quickly moves away to try the second one when he hears approaching footsteps. He freezes for a split second, then hurriedly leans on the wall and pulls out his phone as if he's just mindlessly scrolling rather than trying to break in. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees an old man observing him suspiciously from the sidewalk, and Leon feels his heart thunder in his ribcage. Here he is, standing awkwardly in the middle of an unfavorable neighborhood in his stupid hoodie, trying to blend in when he sticks out like a sore thumb—tough luck for a white cop. 

The blond can feel himself sweating despite the cold, his nerves on edge until the elderly passes, and he’s already moving again to open the second window. To his great delight, this one yields, and then, to his even greater delight, it appears to lead right into the girl’s room. He throws a final glance behind him before climbing inside swiftly, landing his dirty shoes on the beige carpet.

“Shit,” he curses, then quickly closes the slated blinds mostly shut, only allowing dimmed street light inside to illuminate his surroundings.

Finally, he exhales deeply as he lets his eyes trail over the small space, taking note of every piece of furniture, every picture frame, and every trinket. It’s cozy, quaint, but evidently economical, everything looking a little too worn out and chipped to be owned by the average twenty-two year old. It's obvious the girl is not leading a luxurious life.

Walking up to the unmade bed that's placed against the wall, he notices, sitting on the sheets, a crocheted heart-shaped pillow made of bright red yarn. He grabs it absentmindedly as he sits on the mattress, his weight dipping the old cushion while he wonders for the hundredth time just what the hell he is doing with his life. When he mindlessly tosses it in the air, it lands back in his grasp on its other side, and his breathing suddenly hitches when he sees his own name, sown in pink, delicate lettering.

“Fuck me,” he mutters to himself with wide eyes, and that's when he remembers Max telling him about pictures under her pillow.

Hugging the heart to his chest for emotional support, he reaches a tentative hand under her baby blue head pillow, extending his arm until he feels the unmistakable scrape of paper against his fingertips. With a deep, steadying breath, he pulls the photograph from under its hiding spot, and holds it up to inspect his own face staring right back at him. It’s his LinkedIn profile picture, one he took a year prior for a memorial ceremony where he was dressed in his Class A uniform. 

The fact she went out of her way to find it, print it—in glossy finish too—just to stick it under her pillow like a war widow makes his head spin. This is undeniable proof that this girl is insane, and yet he still doesn't find it in himself to feel repulsed. If anything, this only encourages his curiosity further, making him want to know why him specifically out of all cops. Out of all people.

Leon decides to take pictures of the ‘evidence’ of her obsession, before placing the things back the way he’d found them. He could leave now that he’s seen the truth with his own eyes, but he still hopes to find information about her job. However, before he can resume his search, he hears the sound of a car pulling up on the street and feels his heart lurch.

Scurrying over to the window, he peeks through the curtain slates with a held breath and tries to calm himself—it can’t be them. They were barely gone for half an hour, maybe forty minutes at best. Surely, it's not them. But then he sees the same hatchback from before, and from the back door comes out the girl haunting his every thought. He nearly has a cardiac arrest at the sight.

In sheer panic, he looks around for a place to hide, his eyes landing on the closet in the corner. Opening it is a grave mistake, however, when a bunch of clothes come spilling out of it and onto his face. He lets out a nervous squeak as he begins shoving everything back inside to the best of his ability—pants, jackets, balls of yarn and even pairs of underwear. He stuffs it all in the crammed storage right as he hears the front door open, and feels nauseously terrified of being caught when he decides his best bet would be under the bed.

Nearly tripping over his feet, he scrambles to his knees to get into the tight space, only to find it stuffed with more junk and boxes. With no time to waste, he pushes it all against the wall then squeezes his nearly six foot frame under the bedframe, suppressing a sneeze from the lint sticking to his clothes. 

Then, right as he settles in place, he spots a neon pink thong sitting on the floor—one he didn't shove back inside the closet. He panics, unsure whether to leave it or not as he hears incoming voices, before finally deciding to extend a hand to grab it at the very last second, pulling it with him under the bed right as the bedroom opens with a loud bang.

“I didn't even want to go to this stupid dinner, so I don't even care!” the girl exclaims loudly into the hallway before slamming the door and locking it shut.

Leon goes entirely rigid, holding his breath tight as he sees her feet stomp around the carpet until she turns on the bedside lamp, making him stiffen further. Her breathing is ragged, clear anger radiating off her when he hears the sliding zip of her jeans and feels his soul leave his body.

Completely unaware of his presence, the girl begins to shed her clothes one by one, letting them pool at her feet. The blond keeps his gaze intently on the growing pile on the carpet until he sees her bra join the heap and he has to close his eyes to keep calm. But it's too late, he’s already getting worked up, which he wants to blame on the adrenaline but he knows is the result of his newly acquired depravity. 

She walks a few steps away to grab pyjamas hanging off her desk chair, and he's afforded a back view of her panty clad form that has his cock twitching in his jeans. He then suddenly gets a hold of his senses and looks away, preserving some of his good ethics despite creeping under her bed like a complete pervert.

The young woman yanks on shorts along with an oversized t-shirt, letting out a long, frustrated sigh when a soft knock comes at her door. 

“Hey, you okay in there?” A male voice that Leon recognizes as Jayden’s. His ears perk up at the sound, his heart beating faster when she unlocks the door to let the man inside.

She speaks before he even gets a chance. “You have to admit it was her fault this time! Plus, I didn't make Darius throw up, he gets car sick all the time!”

“Okay, okay, calm down!” Jayden holds out his hands in a show of peace. “Nobody said you made him sick. It was just the drop that broke the dam after you two argued for twenty minutes straight until he freaked out.”

The girl huffs, slumping on the bed and making the mattress dip onto Leon’s back. It’s safe to say his erection is nowhere to be found by now.

“She’s the one that kept going on and on about Max and all that bullshit… I’m trying to be better, you know.”

“Well, you spent the night in jail less than a week ago. Can you blame her for still being on edge?” The dark skinned man crosses his arms with a head shake. “You can't disappear again then end up arrested and expect her to act like nothing happened.”

“I got a job—she’s been pestering me about that for weeks!”

“Right. And it's a good step forward, but it’s also at a bar called ‘Rock Bottom,’ so she's not very optimistic…”

Leon can almost hear the eye roll the young woman makes as she plops her upper half down on the mattress with a groan. 

“Ugh! When is she ever optimistic about me? Yeah, okay, I haven't been doing all that good, but I’m actually trying this time… I promise!”

“If you say so… Look, just cut your sister some slack, and I’ll ask her to do the same for you.” The tall man opens the door and prepares to step out when he pauses, looking back at her with a sheepish smile. “But hey, between you and me, I wasn't really looking forward to that dinner either.”

She chuckles in response, which makes the policeman under her bed happy yet annoyed he isn't the one making her smile.

“I knew it,” she muses, then stands just to lock the door after Jayden before laying back down on the sheets. 

After a moment, Leon can hear her start watching videos on her phone while he stays stuck hiding like the most amateur spy in the world. His only saving grace is the fact she has work soon, although the fact it's at a bar of all places worries him greatly.

Still, there isn't much he can do at the moment as he waits for time to pass, clutching her pink thong in his grip and not daring to move a muscle. Occasionally, he hears footsteps outside her door or the sound of the baby crying, but other than that, no one interrupts her alone time to his relief.

Minutes pass and he can feel himself grow sore from not changing positions, but he holds on, especially when he hears her shift on the sheets. Then, her hand suddenly reaches down, and he silently chokes on his breath when he realizes she's blindly searching for something under the bed.

Fuckfuckfuck, he curses in his head as she pats and sweeps her hand across the carpet, inches from his face. She huffs when she can't seem to find what she wants—most likely one of the boxes he pushed aside to accommodate himself—and when she shifts further her phone thuds to the floor.

“Shit,” the girl hisses and struggles for a moment to reach for the fallen device, but not without Leon seeing the contents of its screen.

At first, he’s attacked by the sight of two drawn, naked figures, a man on top of a woman with her back to his chest, an arm around her neck mid coital activity. It appears to be in manga style, but the most interesting part isn't the over exaggerated facial expressions or the supersized breasts—it's the passionate dialogue they're sharing.

‘Now I get to keep you forever, angel. No place to hide from me anymore.’  ‘Yes, please… I want to be yours until my last breath. You can put me on a leash, in a cage, and I’ll be the happiest woman ever.’

The blond can only blink in stunned silence while the girl finally gets hold of the plastic bin beside him and pulls it from under the bed. She rummages through the container, and from the depths of its corners she pulls out the item she must have been looking for all along: a rose vibrator.

The effect from the manga and the sight of the sex toy is instant as Leon feels blood rush to his groin yet again. This time, however, there are no more interruptions to cause him to lose his hard-on, and he’s forced to sit there under the bed as he listens to the vibrating device turn on.

The hum is just loud enough for his ears to turn red and his cock to twitch. He suppresses a groan and lets his forehead fall to the crook of his elbow while listening intently. Clothes rustling, sheets shifting, and then that first little gasp of when the toy touches her skin. She doesn't make a sound apart from that, probably worried the other house occupants might hear, but her breathing is clearly uneven.

Leon can only wait, occasionally hearing a sharp inhale, or the click of her nail against her phone screen as she silently reads the adult content. Then begins a rhythmic swishing against fabric, and he can picture her bucking her hips to the toy’s suctioning vibration. It takes everything in him not to do the same—hump the floor like an animal in heat to relieve the maddening ache in his boxer briefs. 

But then he hears a breathy little ‘fuck’ and he loses his willpower entirely.

With her thong still in hand, he presses his face to it—wishing it wasn’t clean—and bites on the nylon while thrusting down on the carpet in time with her own movements to mask the sounds of his. This must be his lowest point, he is sure, but how is he meant to resist getting off to the pretty girl that's obsessed with him masturbating to yandere porn?

Her movements quicken, her breathing grows more ragged, and so does his. The build up of his orgasm is approaching fast, and he’s already grateful for the dark color of his jeans that will hopefully hide the incoming wet spot of his crotch. Then, he hears her go still while making the tiniest of whimpers, lasting for the longest seconds of his life where his own senses swallow him whole, before she exhales sharply and he feels her weight slump back against the mattress in time with the spurting of his hot cum. 

Leon does everything he can not to pant loudly, sweating under his hoodie like a pig and questioning every life decision that has led him here in post orgasmic lucidity. He’s not sure if this is heaven or hell, but he is certain he and his stalker just climaxed together while she remains completely unaware of his presence under her bed.

Next chapter coming soon.

The way he looked at you holding up that tape like he was accusing you of something. That was the first time you hit him. You were so so sorry! You were trying to smack the tape out of his hand! You just panicked!! It was an accident you swear!! He had needed some time but he forgave you within a few days.

You hid your tapes and the topic didn't come up again.

It had been 3 months since you moved in together when you came home from work to find the house a wreck. He tried to explain that he had been cleaning and got distracted midway through. You thought you had been robbed. Your anger took over. You hit him again, more this time, berating him for making you worry.

You apologized again. And he forgave you once the bruises faded.

You weren't going to do it again!

But another 3 months later and you had a bad day. You just got short with him, every curt word a warning. But he just had to keep pushing it, keep pushing you. You beat him hard. Harder than last time. And all the while you were telling him you didn't want to do this he just makes you.

You apologized but this time even after your anger subsided you were disappointed that he made you hurt him again. He apologized this time. You forgave him before the cuts healed.

Then something strange started to happen. You started hitting him over smaller things, minor things you could get past before. No you didn't hurt him as bad, maybe a little bruise if anything. But it became something routine. You didn't even apologize, why would you? Clearly something was wrong with him that he just brought this out of you.

You could see him trying, making an effort to be better and not make you hurt him anymore. When he actually managed a week without getting punished once you decided to take him out for a romantic date.

By the end of the date his nice clothes were ripped half off and he was hiding in the corner of the room. He knew he had made a mistake denying you after how nice and romantic and patient you had been. He was sobbing out apologies and saying he didn't mean it. It was the most violent night, the things he made you do to him.

You were disgusted with yourself the next day and your boyfriend was making you your favorite breakfast and apologizing profusely. He kissed your head and said thank you for teaching him.

You became more violent regularly after that. It went from maybe a light bruise to broken bones. He went from cute harmless mistakes to a shakey and nervous fuck up. You thought you were training him but somehow he was just getting worse.

It was only when you were ripping off his clothes the second time you realized why he was such a horrible fuck up now.

He was so ashamed to admit he was a filthy masochist who liked the beatings and the pain. He had turned you into a monster, made you feel like a rapist, just for his fetish. You gave him exactly what he wanted, broke his arm and left him like a broken and used condom in the trash.

It had been a year since you moved in together and this was nothing like the life you planned. Your filthy masochist boyfriend waiting to be beaten to a pulp while you watch tv. You decided to celebrate the anniversary you would do something special and romantic just for him.

The TV was playing a horrific scene of women being tortured, assaulted, and murdered. The same tape he had tried to ask you about a year ago. You rubbed your hand on your boyfriend's thigh and he flinched and smiled at you shyly. Only once you've got him sobbing; broken and covered in cum and blood you'll take the next step in your relationship.

cw: police corruption, masturbation

Leon already knows where he needs to be to take a sneak peek at what this Max fella looks like. Once the girl’s bail is paid, she will exit through the West door when her belongings are handed back to her, and the man will wait for her by the parking lot. All the officer has to do is discreetly stand between cars, pretending to be on a short break, and hopefully he can listen in without being caught.

Fifteen minutes later, Leon is doing exactly that as he leans against a tall SUV, barely peeking past it to see the door open with a loud buzz, and the young woman coming out. She's back in her oversized hoodie, her cracked screen phone in hand as she repeatedly taps it before grunting in frustration.

“Why the long face? I thought you’d be happy to get out of jail,” a man with a crew cut and skinny jeans comes into view. Like her, he’s also in a sweatshirt, and he has an ugly tattoo on his neck that peaks out from his collar. 

So that must be Max… Looks like a loser by Leon’s standards.

The girl sighs, shoving the device in her pocket with pursed lips and an annoyed glare. “My battery’s dead.”

“We’ll go home and charge it, no need to get all pissy about it. Come on, you won't even give me a hug after I saved your ass?” Max opens his arms wide with a smirk. 

For a reason he doesn't understand yet, Leon’s heart begins beating faster, waiting with a held breath to see the embrace he wishes he could stop out of sheer cringe. He doesn't know why. It simply makes him grate his teeth.

But then, he sees the young woman cross her arms with a scoff. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Good girl.

“What the hell? I just paid $500 to get you out!” the other man exclaims loudly before lowering his voice into a mocking whisper. “And you promised it would be worth my time.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.” She shrugs and begins walking away without a care, only for Max to snatch her arm in a tight grip.

Leon feels himself jerk in place, his body reacting protectively as he's about to intervene, but he doesn't need to when the young woman whips around with a scowl.

“We’re at a police station you fucking moron, I scream and they’ll jump your ass. The whole place is probably littered with cameras too.”

“You wouldn't dare—you have no place to stay. I know you're not going back to your sister’s either because she told you last time no more arrests.”

“What happens between me and my sister is non of your fucking business.” She wrenches her arm out of his grip, anger radiating off her. “And $500? That barely scratches the surface on all the money you took from me for your 'businesses.’ I meant it last time when I said I’m never getting back with you, but you were thinking with your dick when you came here because that's all you ever do. Well boohoo, asshole.”

Max looks furious, his fingers twitching like he’s about to reach for her again if not for the location he's found himself in. “Getting on your high horse when you were begging me to let you inside two months ago? You think you're the shit? How much do you wanna bet you’ll come crawling back to me in a week—and with your legs open… You’re so fucked in the head, no one wants you. Not even your own family.”

The girl’s expression falls for a split second, before it hardens again and she steps closer with a venomous hiss. “Go fuck yourself, Gibbons.”

With that, she turns on her heel, and walks away on stomping feet until she exits into the street without another glance. Leon’s heart is still pounding in his chest when he hears Max curse crudely.

“Yeah, yeah, go run to suck some dick for a joint, everyone knows that’s all you're worth!” he yells out behind her. When she ignores him, he huffs, kicking a loose pebble on the ground like a petulant child. “Crazy bitch.”

Leon feels a newfound anger bubbling inside him at the way the other insults the girl, and he decides to finally make his presence known once the young woman is gone. He walks out from behind the SUV, catching the tattooed man off guard, and he doesn't stop until he’s standing before him with tense shoulders and glacial eyes.

“Max Gibbons.”

The latter’s eyes widen for a moment, before a mean scowl settles on his face. “And how the hell do you know my name, Officer?”

“Comes up in the system when you pay someone’s bail. They asked for your ID, didn't they?”

“Okay, and why are you talking to me?” the man glares, his entire demeanor turning defensive. “I didn't do anything wrong.”

“I never said you did,” Leon retorts, crossing his arms in his blue uniform to make himself appear larger. “Although, your hands looked like they were itching when you were talking to that girl.” He gestures with his head towards the parking exit from where she disappeared.

The implication of his words are clear, and Max grows even more tense. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He grits his teeth. But then, a look of realization dawns on his face. “Wait… I know you.”

“You know me?” The blond frowns, eyeing the pointed finger in his direction as the dark haired man reminisces.

“Yeah, fuck— It's really you,” he breathes out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Uh, what was it again? Kennedy, right? Liam, or Leo or... Leon! Officer Leon Kennedy. Yeah, that's it.” He snaps his fingers in satisfaction.

Not again. Leon has never met this douchebag before, and it's starting to become really weird that people he doesn't know seem to recognize him. Either he’s developing Alzheimer’s, or he’s secretly famous without his knowledge.

“First her and now you? How the hell do you know me?” 

Max grins wickedly, “Ah, looks like the crazy bitch did it, huh? Did she talk to you? She proposed yet?”

Leon nearly flinches at the insult, and even more so at the mention of a proposal. This is becoming weirder by the second. “What are you on about?”

“Ah, man, she must've lost her shit when she saw you!” The brunette claps his hands like he just heard the funniest of jokes. “But listen, you need to be careful, she's got more than a few screws loose. Especially when it comes to you.”

The policeman has officially had it, and he walks closer, his voice dropping to a low hiss. “Alright, buddy, enough of the cryptic shit. Tell me what you know, right now.”

Max raises his arms in surrender as he backs away, but his back bumps against the wall behind him. “Shit, dude, calm down. I’m not the one you should be worried about… Look, I’ve known her for a couple of years, and the entire time, all she ever does is talk about you.”

“What?” 

“She says you saved her something? I don't fucking know, I never pay too much attention to the crazy shit that comes out of her mouth. It’s got better uses, if you know what I mean.”

Leon knows it's only by divine miracle that he hasn't punched the dickwad yet. He's lucky the blond is eager for more information, especially since he does not recall saving her. His mind is spinning. 

“What else?” he grits his teeth.

“I mean, she has these pictures of you she keeps under her pillow, and she says you two will get married one day… You know, she would say all that while being my girlfriend, and then acted cuckoo when I got myself a side piece. Can you believe it?”

The officer feels his ears ring from hearing the extent of the girl’s seeming infatuation. This is a lot worse than inebriated sexual offers in a parking garage. “So… So she obsesses over me, has pictures of me, and no one thought to report it?”

“She's a lunatic, but she's not really dangerous,” Max shrugs in nonchalance. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows about her, uh, crush, but no one thinks she'll actually act on it. Every time the idea came up she would panic, saying she needed to ‘fix herself’ before meeting you. I don't even know what the fuck that means—there's nothing fixing a bitch with daddy and mommy issues. But at least it makes for a good fuck.” 

“For Christ’s sake can you not speak a single sentence without mentioning your dick?” Leon snaps, then forces himself to inhale deeply to keep his cool. “Where are her parents in all of this? I heard you say something about her family not wanting her.”

The grin that spreads on the brunette’s face is made of pure, shit-eating smugness. “Oh, you were listening in, huh? Well, I don't know, officer, why don't you conduct a little investigation? I can be your informant... You know, for the right price.” He rubs his index and thumb together.

That's it.

Leon has had enough, and he suddenly steps closer until his breath fans on Max’s face, nearly growling in annoyance. “Listen here, you little shit. You’re gonna keep your mouth shut about this, and you’re staying the fuck away from her. And if I hear you got close to her again? I’ll make sure you regret ever calling her a ‘good fuck.’”

The man is completely taken aback by the harsh words and Leon understands why. Not only is he acting menacingly in the middle of the precinct parking lot, but the way he's obviously coming to the defense of the girl he barely knows implies she's more important to him than he cares to admit. He can't help it, however, because the protective instinct he feels for her has increasingly flared from every insult Max has thrown her way.

“Are you threatening me?” the latter scoffs, although there is clear nervousness in his eyes he’s unable to conceal.

Leon doesn't back away. Instead, he tilts his head slowly, a ghost of a smirk pulling at his lips. 

“Wanna find out?”

Max remains silent apart from his uneven breathing, until he begrudgingly nods and pushes past the officer with a shove. The blond knows a man like that does not want to be in trouble with the law, and there isn't much he can do right next to a police station. He watches him walk away and get into his rundown car in hurried steps, and as he peels off into the road with screeching tires, Leon is hit with a realization. He just threatened a civilian. He just used his title for nefarious reasons. He just became a dirty cop.

That night, the policeman does not stall any longer. He needs to learn about the girl and get to the bottom of this, or else he won't sleep in peace again.

Obsession. Pictures. Some forgotten memory about saving her. It all makes his head spin and his anxiety soar. That douchebag did say she wasn't dangerous, but how can he be sure? If she approached him after supposedly stalking him from afar for a long time, what stops her from trying again?

Leon feels conflicted as he slides the door chain in place at his apartment. On one hand, there's a fear creeping inside him at the notion of being silently observed without his knowledge. But on the other, the odd protectiveness he feels for the young woman is still present, preoccupying his mind.

He doesn't dwell on his paradoxical emotions when he settles on his couch, his laptop on his lap. He sent himself earlier a copy of the girl’s records—something entirely illegal—without looking too much into them. But now that he’s alone, he plans on going through them thoroughly. He just hopes no one ever finds out about his new unethical streak.

As soon as the document opens, he’s met with a series of crimes—ten in total—committed over the last eight years. Petty infractions, ranging from evading bus fares to underage drinking. It seems she has led a troubled past, although he can indeed confirm none of her arrests were violent. The thought brings him relief, but then he reads added text at the bottom, next to her fingerprints.

‘Documented history of major depressive disorder with multiple psychiatric hospitalizations, including prior involuntary psychiatric holds for suicidal ideation. History of inconsistent treatment compliance.’

Leon feels tightening forming in his chest. He was right to assume she had mental health difficulties, but to read about it with his own eyes still worries him. He can only imagine what being repeatedly hospitalized at psychiatric institutions does to a young person. No wonder that shithead called her crazy… But no, Leon hates that—no one should be calling her that. Well, no one except him, at least. 

He exhales through his nose as he scrolls the records. He quickly learns she changed addresses from Boston to D.C. in 2022—she lied about being new in town. For some reason, however, the thought makes him huff out a chuckle rather than grow mad. 

“Bostonian, huh?” he mutters to no one but himself. 

His family is originally from there, although they moved when he was too young to remember. He still visits occasionally to meet grandparents and cousins, but it's been a while with his demanding job. He begins to wonder if that is where they met and he doesn't remember.

Then, his eyes land on something that makes him intensely frown.

‘Collected by Child Protective Services on June 30th, 2019 after reported abuse inflicted by biological mother. Minor was then admitted into foster care for 3 years until reaching adulthood.’

Well that explains Max’s evil comment about her family. Leon knows she truly has no one if she had to rely on that asshole to pay her bail. He can't believe a girl like her would ever give that kind of guy a chance. She deserves better after going through so much.

The time ticking on his wrist makes him realize he has spent way too long reading her records over and over again, and he finally decides to turn off his computer and set it aside. He rubs his tired eyes, his hands dragging on his face before he slumps on the backrest of the couch, gazing up at the popcorn ceiling.

Questions continue to swirl in his mind no matter how much information he has learned. It’s like every new thing he learns about her only makes him more curious. He still wants to understand why she is fixated on him specifically, if the tattooed man’s words are true. But they must be. Why would he make up such an unnecessary lie? No, it makes sense. Her wild eyes when she saw him, the fact she knew his name, the way she kneeled, crawled, begged, it’s obvious she wants him bad. 

And God, does the thought do things to him.

He lets out a low grunt when he feels a wave of heat swirl inside him. Fuck. He can't seriously be getting hard again at the thought of the woman he arrested. But Leon knows—he might be many things, but he’s not a liar, and he refuses to not admit to himself she affects him, even now that she's long gone from his sight.

“For fuck’s sake,” he whispers to himself, defeated, as he lowers the waistband of his pants and boxers at once. 

The second his fingers wrap around his erection, he groans, closing his eyes with scrunched eyebrows as he recalls her pleas in the echoey parking garage. He begins to wonder if rejecting her offer was the right thing to do. He can only imagine what her pretty lips would have looked like wrapped around him. Or how the wet heat of her mouth would have felt along his veins. Plus, he’s certain she would have delivered on her promises to deepthroat like a good girl.

“Ngh… Fuck—” he whines to no one in his silent, one-bedroom apartment. But maybe there is someone. Maybe she is listening through the door, or watching through the window—damn it, that wouldn't work. He lives on the third floor.

Leon grunts when his mind doesn't cooperate with his unhinged thoughts, so he does something he already knows he will regret later. With a fist still pumping his leaking cock, he reaches with the other to open his laptop back up. His fingers shake as he scrolls through the document still showing on the screen, until he reaches the top where the girl’s mugshot sits under the heading.

There. Now he can let his imagination run wild while looking her in the eye. She looks so cute too. Holding the placard with her pretty name, the anxiousness obvious in her eyes, the matting apparent in her unwashed hair… Everything about the look of her from when he arrested her makes him moan, his hand moving faster and faster along his veiny length until he bursts. It might be his fastest one yet.

“Yeah—ngh—take it,” he grunts at the face on the screen when the first spurt of his cum splatters across the surface. “Good girl, fucking take it—”

Semen continues to stain his fingers and the pixelated image until he squeezes out the last drop with a shutter, his cock slowly softening in his grasp. Only then does he realize he just came on his laptop like a porn addicted teenager, and he scrambles for tissues to clean up the sticky mess. 

He sighs in relief when he finds that none has seeped into the device’s crevices. That would be one hell of an incident to explain at the repair shop. What lie would he even come up with? It's embarrassing no matter how he thinks of it. Not only that, but it's also so unbelievably wrong.

Truly, this might be the most unethical thing he’s ever done. Actually, no. Threatening Max Gibbons was worse, but he’ll be damned if he didn't love every second of it. In fact, if he could, he would go back and make his threats a bit more explicit. Just to see the fear in the fucker’s eyes.

Leon sure hopes his warnings will take effect and that the man will leave the girl alone. Although, he knows that kind of pest doesn't give up, especially if he believes she cheated him out of those $500. The thought makes the blond anxious, hoping that the young woman, wherever she might be, is staying safe. He just wishes he could check on her to be sure.

Well, now that he has her address, hypothetically speaking, he could do just that… Not that he should. Although, as he stares at the crumpled tissues laying on his lap, he already knows. He would.

Next chapter coming soon.

not feeling my best about this chapter, with both the dialogue and the picture edit, but hey i tried 💀