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#thiS IS THE POLICE OPEN UP THERE HE IS GET HIM wait no you got the wrong guy NO THE FBI NEVER MAKES MISTAKES I AM THE LAW
damiansgoodgirll · 22 hours
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I would like a story where Damian becomes extremely protective of his wife and child after a dangerous event occurs.
i looooove writing about this kind of stuff! let’s say this is kind of an utopia but it could still happen, okay?
anyway
damian priest x reader
‼️angst and fluff
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wrong house
your life was perfect.
perfect like in one of those romantic comedy.
you had a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and a big house like you dreamed about when you were a kid. a huge living room, plenty of space for your daughter to run and play, a backyard pool and the classic white picket fence. you were in a nice and wealthy neighbourhood, surrounded by lots of parks and kind people.
what more could you ask for?
a couple of blocks away from your neighbourhood there’s been a few robberies, nothing major, just some teens thinking it was fun scaring old people, but police officers told you multiple times that you didn’t have to worry about it, that they have it handle it.
damian wasn’t so sure about it tho.
he made everything in his power to provide you with a beautiful house, a nice neighbourhood so you could feel safe when he was travelling for work so the idea of having teens breaking into people’s homes late at night made him shiver, especially when he thought about you and your daughter.
“are you sure it’s okay? i can come home early…you know it’s not a problem mi amor” he said through the phone.
“dam…” you said laughing “everything been calm for over three weeks, we’ll be okay…”
“i know it’s just…you know how i get when i’m not home, i’m only thirty minutes away from you and in case anything happens you give me a call okay?”
“i promise you dam…go back to training” you said laughing again.
“i will, tell maya that i love her okay? and that i miss her so much and that i will crush her with hugs and kisses once i come back home” he said smiling, thinking about his two years old daughter.
“i will i promise…go back to training, we’ll see you in a couple of hours…” you said giving him a kiss through your phone and hanging up.
you smiled watching your daughter being completely invested in the cartoon she was watching.
the evening went on normally.
you and maya had dinner together, you got her ready for the night but as usual she didn’t want to go to bed without having a goodnight kiss from her father, so, instead of going to bed, you spent the early night together, watching some cartoons and eating popcorn.
you watched the time and you knew damian would be back in an hour so you took a few seconds to close your eyes and relax a bit.
non even a minute passed that you heard some weird noise coming from the back door.
you knew for sure that damian wasn’t back, you didn’t hear the car and even if he was, you knew he never used the back door, so what was going on?
then you heard them, two, maybe three voices talking softly. saying how hard it was to open your door and that maybe they should go to another house. you prayed that they would let you alone but when you heard the click sound of the door opening you realised it was too late.
you grabbed maya into your arms and pulled her towards your chest. moving fast to the bedroom, you locked yourself in, and then you locked yourself into the bathroom, hiding maya behind you in the tub.
you knew you should have called the police, you knew that but the first person that came to your mind was damian.
you didn’t know what was going on, and if something bad was going to happen you wanted to hear damian’s voice one last time.
“please…” you whispered, waiting to hear his voice.
your hands were shaking and even if you were crying, you were praying no one would be able to hear you from downstairs.
“hey love” he answered.
“dam?” your voice broke.
“hermosa…what’s going on?” he asked, alarmed by the sound of your voice.
“dam they’re here…”
“who?” he knew who, he just didn’t want it to be real.
“someone’s in the house…dam, they’re in the kitchen, looking for something i guess, i’m in the bathroom with maya, we’re locked in…i know they never hurt anyone, they’re just kids but…damian i’m so scared, i don’t want anything to happen to maya” you broke down, trying to muffle your cries.
“listen to me amor, i’m coming back home right now okay?” he said and you hummed “you’re on the speaker, finn is with me and he’s calling the police right now, you stay at the phone with me okay?”
he didn’t know how he was able to remain so calm. in reality he was freaking out, just the thought of you and maya being in danger made his blood boil.
“is maya okay?” he asked.
“she’s okay, she’s scared too but she’s okay” you said, looking at your daughter’s face. she was confused and definitely scared but still she didn’t know what was going on.
“are you okay love? i’m coming back home, right now..you stay at the phone with me okay?”
“okay…” you said.
you hear the noise from downstairs growing closer to you, they were in the living room right now. you were lucky your house was big enough that you had the time to hide.
“damian they’re closer…i can hear them… i’m so scared…”
“i know princesa i know….keep holding on for me okay…i’m driving as fast as possible, keep holding on”
“i love you so much damian…so so much”
“don’t say that like it’s the last time you’ll say this…” damian’s heart broke, he couldn’t imagine how scared you must have been “i love you so much mi amor and i’m not going anywhere, ill stay at the phone with you, finn just told me the police is on their way…”
“okay…” you whispered.
damian kept talking to you but you stopped him when you heard the sirens ringing.
“police is here…” you whispered letting damian know about it.
you heard them breaking down the front door. you heard them chasing the kids around your house and you heard them calling your name.
you waited until they found you. they were police but you didn’t trust them enough to come out yet, you didn’t feel safe. the only place where you always felt safe was between damian’s arms and you couldn’t wait for him to be back.
you and your daughter were brought downstairs. you didn’t care about the broken furnitures, not when something worse could have happened.
damian ran into the house, fighting off police officers who told him to stay outside.
“my wife and my daughter are inside!” you heard him screaming, shoving past one officer.
“dam…” you said, tears running down your face.
“hey…” he whispered hugging you tight. maya was watching the whole scene with a confused smile. she was just a kid, too young to understand what was going on. one police officer was sat next to her, while you couldn’t let go of damian’s embrace.
“i was so scared…”
“i know mi amor, i know…everything is over now, you’re safe, you and maya are safe…” he kept repeating, more to himself, because he couldn’t describe how terrified he was when you told him someone broke into your house.
“i’m so glad she’s okay…i would have fought with all my life if something happened….”
“i know hermosa…she’s so lucky to have you as her mom, i’m so glad to call you my wife…and i’m so happy to see you both here alive, i’m so sorry i wasn’t here”
“damian, it’s not your fault” you said before he could blame himself “you’re here now and it’s all that matters”
“i love you so much…and you too maya” he said moving to bring her up in his arms.
she was just happy to see his daddy smiling at her.
“missed you” she said with her soft voice that always made your heart smile.
“i missed you too princess…and i’m not going anywhere for a long time” he said kissing her head “daddy is gonna stay here with you”
she seemed happy with his decision and so were you.
it was kinda selfish taking him away from his work but he knew that you wouldn’t trust yourself to be home alone for some time now and he didn’t want to leave you alone, never.
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naavispider · 22 hours
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💙💞Survivor: bonus scene💞💙
Read Survivor on AO3, my cop au where Quaritch is a high ranking police officer who finally works out the street kid he's had multiple run-ins with is his son.
For everyone who wanted a scene from Quaritch's point of view! Here's the moment he worked out Spider is his ✨ (I changed it from the main story so that Spider told the precinct his full name the last time he was arrested, instead of telling the hospital the day Q found him. It's not a huge change, just run with it).
It was grey, blustery Thursday morning in downtown St Mark’s, the wind whipping against the windscreen of the PD’s Ford Explorer as Miles Quaritch patrolled down another empty street. At 6am, no one was out yet. The world was quiet apart from himself and his partner sitting in the passenger seat. 
“She was a beauty,” Lyle Wainfleet reminisced, vastly overestimating how much Miles actually cared. “That was the one that got away, I’m telling you.”
“Is that so?”
“I should message her again.”
Quaritch rolled his eyes without looking at his partner. He’d known Lyle for a long time and there was no one more reliable he’d rather be on shift with. However, their differing attitudes towards Lyle’s hunt for a woman was sometimes a point of contention between them. “Should you now?”
“You don’t think it’s a good idea?”
“It seems to me she made her feelings pretty clear.”
“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine today? Come on, Colonel, I’m trying not to get my heart broken, here!” Miles shrugged, surveying the bleak street ahead of them. It had been an uneventful night shift, which is exactly the kind that Miles should have hoped for. However, he couldn’t deny that a huge part of him still missed the action and danger of the marines. Rain had just started to spit from the overcast sky, forcing him to turn on the wipers. This part of town was known for its drug involvement, most of which Miles himself had uncovered. Now though, the street was empty, not a single sign of life in the dawn light. There was nothing amiss here.
“You wanna get a coffee?” Lyle’s bored voice drifted over from the passenger seat. He’d already switched off for the shift. 
Miles sighed, thinking they may as well, but then he saw it. A shapeless lump on the floor in one of the archways that lined the shopfronts. “Hold up,” he said. “Let’s deal with this first.”
Unfortunately, the homeless were nothing new to the pair. They had time to check one more over. Miles pulled the car over to the curb, gently bringing it to a stop a few feet away from the sleeping figure. Now that they were closer, the Colonel could make out that it was someone small, maybe young, but their face was hidden in the concrete. Miles frowned as he realised that the person wasn’t huddled up in a blanket or sleeping bag like usual, but instead they were lying almost completely exposed to the wind and the cold, limp and seemingly lifeless. 
“Oh, shit,” Lyle articulated as he too clocked that this could be something serious. 
Without wasting time, Miles opened the door and cautiously approached where the person lay. “Hello, there,” he called loudly, as per protocol. “Are you alright?”
As he knew there wouldn’t be, there came no response. Lyle joined him and they stepped closer, Miles’s heart thudding at the expectation of finding a body. Since joining the police force, it had happened once before to Miles. It was nothing like the death he’d seen in the warzone, but it was almost… sadder. These people had nobody with them, no one waiting for them at home and possibly no one that would miss them when they went. At least there was honour in dying in combat. 
He grasped the young person’s upper arm and shook firmly. “Hello? This is the police, do you need help?” In doing so, he finally caught sight of the person’s face. It was a teenager - and one he recognised at that. The boy had a young face, dirty blonde curls that covered most of his head and a peaceful expression that remained unresponsive. He remembered the teen from a couple of run-ins they’d had over the past few months. Once for underage drinking and then again for stealing. He was a runaway foster kid, barely sixteen if he remembered correctly. “Shit,” he murmured, a pang of something anxious striking his insides at the thought that he’d had the chance to help this boy and he might now be dead. “We know this kid. Wake up!” He pulled the boy by his arm and the teenager rolled over limply, completely out of it. His lips were blue and there was dried vomit on the side of his face. Ignoring the smell, Miles put his ear to the boy’s mouth, checking for breathing. He couldn’t see or hear anything for several torturous seconds. Lyle was already radioing for an ambulance. 
Suddenly, a gurgled cough escaped the boy’s lips. “There, we go,” Miles murmured, trying to rub the kid’s back as he racked his brains for the alias the kid had given them. “Can you wake up, kid? It’s the police, we’re gonna get you some help.”
He knew the boy couldn’t hear him, but he kept speaking anyway. Once he was confident the kid was taking semi-regular breaths, he cast around the scene for the drugs packet he knew he’d find somewhere. “Here,” he said, handing the tiny bag to Lyle, who got the drugs kit out. A few seconds later, they had their answer. “Cocaine,” Lyle confirmed. “Isn’t this the kid we picked up a while back for stealing?”
“That’s the one.” The boy was cold to the touch. “What’s the ETA?”
“Four minutes,” Lyle responded. “There’s a camera up there. That could be interesting,” he nodded towards the CCTV placed not too far away. It was pointing in their direction and would have covered the boy while he slept. 
Miles nodded, pulling the boy’s thin blanket over his frame while they waited for the ambulance to arrive. “Kid, can you wake up? You’re in a bit of a rough state.” He raised his voice as if he was speaking to someone who was deaf. “Kid? Can you hear me? Try and wake up.”
He could tell he’d broken through by the wince in the boy’s features, his body seeming to spasm for a moment before his chest heaved and vomit spluttered from his mouth.
“Easy, tiger…” He rubbed the kid’s shoulders, making sure he was on his side. “At least he’s alive,” he glanced up at Lyle. 
Eventually, the ambulance arrived with flashing lights. It couldn’t have come soon enough, as far as Miles was concerned. Every second felt like the kid was slipping further away from them. “What’s happening, then?” a kind woman with brown hair asked as she and another paramedic hurried over, bags over their shoulders. 
“Sixteen year old boy, found unresponsive. Cocaine on his person.”
“Okay,” the paramedic nodded her understanding. “My name’s Janine, this is Sarah. We’ll get him on board as soon as we can. Do you have a name?”
“Spider.” It came to Miles like a flash of lightning, the strange nickname finally illuminated in his brain. “We’ve met before.”
“Spider?” Janine asked, taking Miles’s place at Spider’s side. “Can you hear me? We’re here to help you. I’m just going to put this Pulse Ox on your finger…”
Miles stepped back to allow the medics to assess Spider. He was a marine, he was used to chaos and stressful situations, normally the picture of calm as he navigated the safest and most efficient way back to safety. But he had to admit this one had thrown him. He was glad that someone else was here to take charge because his concern for Spider was growing by the minute. It somehow felt like his fault the boy had ended up here, and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. As he watched them work, it struck him that he felt responsible. 
Which was ridiculous, of course. This wasn’t his responsibility in the slightest. He’d done his job the previous times they’d met. He’d tried to help the kid as much as he could. But something deep inside was nagging at him. It wasn’t enough. 
He didn’t like it. He looked at Lyle, hoping for one of his usual unfunny quips to take his mind off the feeling. His partner was speaking to the other medic and it was all Miles could do to help Janine heave Spider off the cold concrete. 
“Get off me!” Spider suddenly burst out, surprising everyone. His eyes were still closed, but at least he was gaining consciousness. 
“Spider? I’m trying to help you,” Janine continued. “You’re okay… Let’s get you into the ambulance. I need you to stand up. I’ll help you.” She glanced at Miles for support, and he quickly pulled one of Spider’s arms over his own shoulder in tandem with Janine. The boy was extremely weak, relying totally on their support. It would have been easier if they’d just left him sleeping, because like this Spider could lash out at them in his disorientation. Together, they heaved him onto the ambulance and the gurney. He groaned and angry tears began to slip from under his closed eyelids. “Fuck!” he slurred as he curled up on the bed. 
“He’ll be alright,” Janine said, slightly out of breath as she turned to Miles. “He’s dehydrated and has a high blood pressure, but I’m more worried about his temperature. He should be frozen, but he’s burning up. He might have taken something else.”
Miles took this in, thinking what the procedure was for this kind of thing. This was a minor with no known relatives, so he knew they’d have to accompany him to the hospital. At least until they could contact CPS. 
“Okay, we’ll meet you at the ER. You going to St Mark’s?”
She nodded, holding the back of the ambulance open for Miles to exit. “We’ll do our best to hold him until you guys get there, my guess is that you’ve got a few hours at least until he’s lucid.”
Miles thanked her and pressed his radio as she pulled the heavy ambulance door closed. “Fike, can you get me any info on that kid we bought in a few weeks ago?” He retreated to the car as the ambulance sped off down the empty street. He watched it go, feeling like it was carrying precious cargo. Then he realised how ridiculous that feeling was and shook himself. 
“Which one? Can you be more specific, Colonel?” Fike’s voice came crackling back over the radio. 
Lyle slid back into the passenger seat. “Good spot, Colonel. Now can we get coffee on the way?”
Miles let his annoyance settle quietly in his stomach, ignoring his partner in favour of the radio. “Kid bought in for stealing an iPad from the Apple store. Sixteen.”
“Copy that, I’ll check for you.”
“There’s no way the kid told them anything,” Lyle commented, listening to the exchange. “It’s real sad, but he's on a one track road and it’s going nowhere good.”
“And that’s okay is it?” Miles surprised himself for his response. He was never normally this invested in a case. “We should just let it be?”
Lyle had the decency to look abashed. “What are we supposed to do, Colonel?”
Miles shook his head. He knew it wasn’t their individual responsibility to take in every lovable stray, but it still felt like a failure of the police department that a kid like Spider had been allowed to deteriorate to such an extent. “I don’t know,” he relented.
Thankfully, Fike was quick. “Miles Socorro, ward of the state.” 
Miles’s heart stopped. 
For a moment he thought… but it must have been radio static. “Can you repeat that, officer?”
A few seconds of confused silence went by as Lyle stared at him and they waited for Fike to get back to them. “Copy, Miles Socorro, ward of the state.” 
Dread filled his stomach.
Vile nausea rose in his throat and he needed air… he needed to step out… Miles Socorro. She’d called the baby after him? 
This couldn’t be right. This was a mistake, a coincidence. It had to be a common name. 
“Colonel, you alright?” Lyle's voice was far away. 
He was outside again, leaning against the car door, his head in his hands. He just needed some deep breaths. Miles Socorro. Miles Socorro. Miles Socorro. Miles Socorro. Miles Socorro. 
It wouldn’t stop. 
The name swirled around his brain incessantly, each time with more veracity and more vengeance, over and over again until he realised it would never let him go. The baby. The baby. 
It was him. 
Of course it was. He’d known it from their first meeting when the kid had squinted at him against the blinding sunset with an empty cider bottle in his hand.
“Holy shit.”
He felt a hand on his shoulder and vaguely registered that Lyle was concerned about him. 
“I fucked up,” he said. “I fucked up. I messed it all up.”
Of course it was Miles. His son. Suddenly he thought of nothing else, gaining a sense of clarity for just long enough to press his radio once more. “Can you look up Paz Socorro?”
He didn’t care what anybody was thinking right now. 
“Is this a relation, Colonel?”
“Just look her up!”
“She’s not on our system… Hang on, let me search…” 
Miles held his breath, the nausea hot at the back of his throat, burning him from the inside out. 
“Paz Socorro, deceased. Died in 2013.”
Miles couldn't stem the surge that retched its way up his throat. He bent double over the sidewalk, vomiting feet away from where they’d found Spider. 
She was dead? Why hadn’t they contacted him? His son… the baby he’d made… had ended up here!
“Colonel, steady!” That was Lyle. 
“Everything okay over there?” That was Fike. 
Miles’s chest was imploding. He’d failed. He’d failed. How had he not been made aware? How could he have not bothered to check? They’d agreed it was for the best they had no contact, but Miles could never, never have imagined… 
Suddenly all he wanted was to be by Miles’s side. His son’s side. Spider. 
He didn't bother replying to either man, instead wiping his mouth roughly on his cuff and slamming the door behind as he climbed back into the driver’s seat. Lyle quickly followed him back inside the car but seemed too stunned to address anything. “Er, Colonel…”
“We’re going to the hospital.”
A moment of silence passed. “Who’s the kid?” Lyle asked in a low voice.
Miles gripped the steering wheel tighter than he had in his life, his knuckles turning white. He couldn't say it. He couldn't say it out loud. Then it would make his failure real. His life’s failure, real. “I think you know,” he said in a voice that sounded nothing like his own. 
Lyle sat back in the seat and allowed Miles to drive the short distance without pressing any further. “All good here,” his partner replied when Fike radioed back. 
Miles’s voice had stopped working. He wasn’t sure any of him was working any more.
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madlichen · 2 years
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i wish my autism beam was real and i could shoot people with it and also give them autism too so everyone could be autism because when everyones autism no one is
#syndromes not evil the bad guy is society and mental health is so much more than keeping the crazies off the streets#i wish i could change society and be a queer little mouseboy who likes science#but no cannot have nice things society will make you the villain for trying to change it why are the villains always smart in movies#because they recognize the pain and suffering in the world thats why they see it and they actually do something about it#but that makes them evil thats why theyre the villain because they want change and change is bad#the us government is actively stopping me from changing the world for the better one person one autism beam at a time#birds arent real theyre government drones beaming 5g mind control waves into our synapses and i sciencedude have a solution#global havannah syndrome must be stopped we must the villain murderous scum hiding out in bushes from eating our babies#just so long as we only protect the unborn babies and not the children because the dead are more important than the living#enslave the middle class to the monopolies bring about the oligarchy bleed out on our machines to raise efficiency and bring costs down#in this essay i will explain why the coming downfall of society has everything to do with how we treat others#thiS IS THE POLICE OPEN UP THERE HE IS GET HIM wait no you got the wrong guy NO THE FBI NEVER MAKES MISTAKES I AM THE LAW#breaking news a man by the name of science dude has been arrested for reasons not even the fbi is willing to share#NO PLEASE IM INNOCENT HELP ME#wow they must have done something really bad if the police are arresting them lets influence our audience to think theyre bad as well#breaking news someone got cancelled its a crying shame this cancel culture business tune in next time to the only source of truth on tv#i want to live i want to live i want to live i want to live i want to live i want to live i want to live i want to live i want to live i w-#liiiiiiiiiiiiivvvvvvvveeeeeeeee#its a cold place and they say it gets colder#your bundled up now wait til you get older#but the media men beg to differ#judging by the hole in the satellite picture#the ice we skate is getting pretty thin#the waters getting warm so you might as well swim#my worlds on fire how bout yours#thats the way i like it and i never get bored#well the years start comin and they dont stop comin and they dont stop comin and they dont stop comin and they dont stop comin#im crawing in my skin these wounds they will not heal#janine janine youd like to know me well but there are things inside my head that even i cant face#these and other song when you tune in and enter to win 0% apr for the first twenty months no money down offer lasts until 10 years ago
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stellardeer · 1 month
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TL;DR - How would you kick someone out of your house without involving police? and Should you?
My no-note blog is probably not the best place to ask this question, but maybe someone will come along and answer, who knows.
So in the ideal circumstance that we abolish the police, I've been wondering about a specific scenario. Say there is a person in your home, for whatever reason, who has no legal right to be there, and you do not want them there (again, for whatever reason) but they refuse to leave and you want to forcibly remove them from your home.
Most people nowadays would threaten to call the cops on them, and usually that alone is enough to get people to leave. I've never actually had this problem myself, but I've known numerous people who've talked about these kinds of situations (and coincidentally they were all middle class, if that tells you anything...) I, personally, would think twice (or a million times) about calling the cops on someone, especially if the person in question is particularly vulnerable to police brutality. So, even if the police aren't abolished, I still want to know the proper alternative to handle this kind of situation.
I'm a pretty weak, easily overpowered person, so my first instinct would be to like.. call someone I know or go get a strong neighbor or something to help me get this person off of my property.
I know that the specifics of the situation also play a key role here, too, on how to handle it. Like, if the person is reasonable, I would hope that just telling them to leave would get them to go - easy enough. But if they refuse to move.. what do I even do? If it's someone that I know very well, I might think to take a break and just walk away from them and hope we can sort things out once we've calmed down. If it's someone that I don't know very well, though, (not even necessarily an intruder, but just say someone who is overstaying their welcome) and especially if tensions are not even high, I wouldn't really know what to do. Some states even have squatters rights, so like.. sometimes you literally CAN'T do anything about this person being in your home, and in some cases they can even get you kicked out. I think it's kind of obvious that if the person clearly has violent intentions towards me, then I have a right to defend myself, but again, I am not going to be able to do that by myself, and I don't know what the legalities are around asking for help from another citizen, i.e. not a cop, if someone means to do you harm?
And what if you do ask for help and your helper ends up injuring the person in the process of trying to get them out?? I'd imagine it's still better than calling a cop, and risking getting a life-ruining criminal record, or worse, shot and killed. But I'd also imagine there could be grounds for them to sue if they get injured by the helper since the helper is not a professional of any kind and not protected in anyway. Only some states have protections against self defense anyway, and I don't know if it even counts if you invited the person into your home willingly and they weren't being violent to begin with. Like.. if they person is just stubbornly standing there and then your burly neighbor puts hands on them first, I don't think that even counts as self defense for the homeowner? At that point if the person fights back then they have a case for self-defense.
And I don't know what the leftist attitude is towards personal property like that anyway, like should we even have a right to our own home? I don't know the leftist view on that, I get the idea that individualism is not the move, but like.. do we still have our own personal space? Space that we are allowed to bar others from entering? Even if that space extends to the entirety of a 2-bedroom home? I'm asking sincerely, because I really haven't read enough socialist theory, so I don't know what the opinions are on home ownership in general. Like in an ideal society, would we supposedly just allow the person to stay for as long as they like, as long as they aren't hurting anything? That's another part of it, like what if they aren't doing any harm but I still don't want them there? Am I wrong for wanting them to leave, even if I don't know them? Supposing even if they are an intruder, if they haven't stolen anything or hurt me or my animals, but they just... won't leave, should I even be mad about that?
But again, forget an ideal society, let's take it back to reality, assuming that I live in the US and the laws are exactly the same as they are in this moment, police are not abolished, but I am choosing to not involve the police in this matter... what is the right thing to do???? Should I just resolve myself to accept that this person lives with me now?? I don't even live in a state with squatters rights, so I don't legally have to, but.. should I? (more thoughts and anecdotes if the tags if you feel like reading)
#leftism#socialism#communism#abolish police#this is open to debate for anyone it's one half sincere question and one half ethics think piece#like.. there may not be any one 'right' 'good' answer for every situation i just want to hear opinions from people who know more than me#please try to be civil and i know this might sound like a stupid question but I'm asking it in good faith#I feel like a LOT of people (at least US citizens) will just tell me 'well duh you have a right to not want someone in your space'#but like idk i've been thinking over this for a few days now and questioning if I even do have that right??#like obviously i have a right to boundaries but do i have a right to a 784sq ft home?#if i have extra space im not occupying all of the time is it wrong for me to keep someone out of it?#i'm someone who prefers to live alone and i've just recently got my house to myself after having a guest for over a year#he is a friend of mine and it made me miserable having him here sometimes (despite him doing nothing wrong)#but our other friends kept telling me to kick him out and i just couldnt believe they would even suggest that??#like.. just because i want to live by myself doesn't mean it's better to put him out on the street??#i still cant believe they saw no issue with that#and not once while he was here did i ever consider making him leave so this question isn't about him or anything#this anecdote is just an example of like.. differences in opinion on personal space#i have a 2-bd trailer and i've been waiting to turn my second bedroom into an office#but i let him live in the extra room while he was here because i was able to get by just fine without it#but i think i might feel different if someone i didnt know just showed up in my home one day and wanted to live here#or what if my friend (not that he would EVER) did become violent and i DID need to force him to leave? like .. what do??#this question mostly came up because someone i met recently was telling a story about a terrible roommate he had#but his (the person telling the story) parents owned the property or something and this guy's lease was up but he wasn't leaving#so they threw all his stuff out because he had been gone for a couple weeks and they assumed he wasnt coming back#but then he showed up one day looking for his things and was trying to take stuff from the kitchen#and the guy (telling the story) told him that he couldn't take anything and he needed to leave and said he would call the cops if he didn't#and i kept my mouth shut (especially cause the roommate sounded particularly foul) but i would not dream of calling the cops over that#but it was like... just because they owned the property and he didn't want him there calling the cops was a perfectly reasonable response#it sickens me
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stevebabey · 9 months
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Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.
It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.
But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.
Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.
And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.
There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.
He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.
Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.
“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.
“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”
Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.
“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”
A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.
“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”
Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.
“Now is best.”
Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”
Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.
The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.
Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.
“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”
He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.
“What’s going on?”
Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.
“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”
To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”
Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.
Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.
“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.
Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.
“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”
There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.
“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”
The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.
Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”
Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”
Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.
“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.
“…Kissing.”
Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?
He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.
“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”
Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.
“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”
Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.
“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”
Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.
“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”
A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.
He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.
The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.
“Eddie—” He starts.
“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”
Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.
There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”
Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.
“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.
He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”
Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.
He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.
“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”
Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”
Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.
“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.
Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.
Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.
He can’t find one single ounce of regret.
next part.
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baby
summary- babying your "tough" hubby rafe.. maybe some freakydeakyness at the end
note- this is the complete opposite of the rafe ive been writing about LMAOOO.. this man is SO BAD help me
it was 2am and you were in your bedroom scrolling on your phone, a random netflix show playing in the background. you've been waiting for your husband to get home for hours, being the wife to the chief of police did have its negatives. this was one of them.
you heard footsteps walking up the stairs and immediately turned off your phone, throwing the covers over yourself you pretend to be asleep. the door opens and you feel the weight of the bed shift.
"hey baby. sorry for getting home so late" rafe says giving your forehead a kiss, you jokingly ignore him.
"c'mon now i know youre awake.. get up and hold me." he begged tiredly, you couldnt help but giggle at how desperate he sounded.
"fine." you mumbled into the sheets but stayed in your position, he hugs you putting all of his weight on your body.
"okay okayy, i got it. now get off me you fatty." you whined, pushing his large frame off of you. you leaned against the bed frame and opened your arms, the both of you adjusting to a more comfortable position. which was the both of you propped up against a pillow.
"im so tired." he yawns into your chest, you played with his hair as the both of you stayed in silence.
"i know you are, you need a day off. youve been working too hard." validating him, his hand plays with the ribbon of your pajama shorts.
"see? youre still in your uniform, youre gonna make the bed dirty." you patted his back and drew circles on it.
"what, you want me take it off? if you wanted to see me naked you couldve asked sweetheart." he looked up at you and smirked. you glared at him, lightly slapping his arm.
"not what i meant.." you blushed.
"youre so cute you know that rafey, honestly when i look at you i just want to eat you." you confessed and massaged his temples, his face nuzzles into your chest even further. clearly he was blushing as well.
"i dont know how i got so lucky, im so glad i have a such a beautiful boy in my life. everything about you is just perfect." you cooed admiring his sculpted face, the way his plump lips curled into a smile.
"stopppp" he whined. you couldnt help but pull out your phone and take a picture. because if you didnt, who wouldve believe that your 6'2 husband loved to be babied like this? not like you were going to show anyone, its just for your eyes only. you wanted to cherish this moment forever.
"did you just take a picture?"
"let me see it." he shot up and reached for your phone. you put your phone under your pillow and laid on it, making sure he wasnt able to grab it. the two of you started play fighting.
"nooo please, you look so cute. let me keep it!!" you laughed, he started to tickle you. and you slowly started to fall off the bed. your legs wrapped around his waist and dragged him down, if you were gonna fall he was going to come down with you.
the laughing coming from you both died down and you looked up at him, what a funny position. you both were on the floor and he was in between your legs hovering over you.
rafe leaned downed and passionately kissed your lips, his hand starts to play with your shorts. you eventually pull away and slap his hand.
"nuh uh. go shower first. you stink." you got up to your feet then helped your boyfriend get up as well. you looked up at rafe with your head tilted, what was this man plotting?
"not unless you join me.. you cant say no" he quickly said and grabbed you by the waist. hoisting you over his shoulder and carrying you to the master bathroom.
"ahhh! rafe stop!!" you busted out laughing, kicking your feet as he practically dragged you to the shower. he put you down and turned on the warm water, it poured over you both. you furrowed your eyebrows.
"great now my clothes are all wet." you pouted crossing your arms over your now soaked tank top.
"more reason to take it off... lift your arms f'me"
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kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months
Text
no vacancy | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader
set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)
word count: 4.7k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)
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You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 
You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 
So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.
You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 
You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 
That is, until you opened the door. 
“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  
"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 
“Sure looks that way.” 
"At least it's a queen?" 
There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 
"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 
"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 
"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 
"–mind as long as you–" 
You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 
"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  
It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 
"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.
"Right."
The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.
"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 
"No, you're not doing that."
"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.
"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 
Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 
God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 
Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 
Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 
Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 
“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."
You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 
The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 
“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.
"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  
You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 
Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 
From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 
He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 
Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 
Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 
Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 
“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  
You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 
Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 
“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 
You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 
He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 
“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 
“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 
“Sorry,” you managed. 
“For what?” 
“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 
“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 
Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 
“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 
“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 
“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 
“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 
“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 
“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 
“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 
“You just said ass.” 
“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 
“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 
“I knew you’d agree.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 
Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 
Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 
You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 
But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 
Eventually, exhaustion won out. 
You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 
You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 
Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 
“Hey, you okay?” 
“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 
“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 
“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 
You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 
He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 
“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 
“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 
“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 
“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 
“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 
“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 
“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 
It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 
“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 
“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 
“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 
“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 
He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 
“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  
“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 
“Don’t profile me.” 
“I’m not. I just know you.” 
You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 
“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 
“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 
“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 
You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 
“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 
“I told you to stop profiling me.” 
This time, he just hummed in response. 
“And so what if I stuttered?” 
“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 
Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 
“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 
“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 
“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 
“That all makes total sense.” 
“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 
“Now tell me the rest of it.” 
“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 
You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 
“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 
“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 
It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 
“Yes.” 
You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 
Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 
“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  
You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 
He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 
“It is.” 
“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 
“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 
Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 
Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 
“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 
“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 
“I was not–”
“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  
“Oh, this was such a mistake.”
He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  
“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 
He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 
“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 
You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 
“Are you certain of that?” 
“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 
“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 
Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 
He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 
You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 
“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 
After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 
For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 
You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 
“Okay, was it just me, or–” 
“That was crazy,” you breathed.
“Crazy,” he agreed. 
“Spence?” 
“Yeah?” 
“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 
Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 
“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 
“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 
“Well, you kissed me.” 
“I did.”  
“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 
“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 
You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 
“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 
“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 
He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 
“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 
“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 
“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 
“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 
You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 
“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 
“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 
“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 
“You’re such an ass.” 
A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 
You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 
Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 
You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 
You text back: okay? 
Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 
You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 
You: what did u say? 
Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 
You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 
Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.
You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 
You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt
You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 
Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night
You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 
Spencer: Oh
Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here
You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much
Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 
You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 
You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 
You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 
“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 
Shit. 
“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 
Unbelievable.
You: you’re unhinged :*
Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 
You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 
Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 
You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 
Spencer: Stop flirting with me
You: bc you’re too delicate?? 
Spencer: Yes 
You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 
You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that
You heard a page turn. 
You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 
This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 
2K notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 2 months
Note
Can I please request protective Spencer x BAU!Reader who get "lightly" hurt or put in danger bc SWAT or local police made a mistake, and Spencer goes OFF on them. Hotch or Rossi have to calm him down because no one but the BAU knows theyre dating. I'd love to see protective Spencer if possible :)
no sign of danger | S.R.
when SWAT makes a mistake that puts you in danger, your boyfriend is... displeased
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: bloody nose, concussion, split lip, blood, mild violence. spencer reid says the f word. word count: 1.58k a/n: anon, not to be dramatic but something about writing this changed my brain chemistry. thank you for requesting!!! i hope you like it!
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The time between arriving at a scene and when SWAT cleared the building was almost always intolerable. There were too many variables at play. It made you uneasy.
So, you waited, leaning on the side of an SUV with your Kevlar already strapped on, you turned to look at Hotch, “We’ve got an audience.”
Breadcrumbs that Garcia had picked up led the team to a house in a small town in Arizona. Unfortunately, the FBI garnered a lot of attention, and neighbors were starting to gather around the house. Hotch nodded, “Reid, JJ, work with the locals on crowd control, and make sure no one is recording. The last thing we need is for the news crews to show up.”
You offered Spencer a small smile as he turned to follow the blond to the barrier. He waved behind his back as he walked away.
Chuckling from right next to you got your attention, just to see Morgan shaking his head, “You two have it so bad.”
“I like to think we have it good, actually,” you said, flushing slightly. The teasing came with the territory, dating within the BAU meant never knowing a moment of peace – especially with Derek Morgan around.
There wasn’t an opportunity for him to respond, because as soon as he opened his mouth, your radio buzzed to life in your ear, “Building is clear. No sign of danger.” At the sound of the SWAT commander’s voice, you and Morgan surged forward to enter the building, Emily and Hotch following close behind.
Behind you, Hotch cleared his throat, “Morgan, Y/L/N, take the two rooms in the back, we’ll take the front.”
Nodding at your orders, you and Morgan walked past the staircase and to the opposite end of the house, where the kitchen and the den were. “This place looks like it’s been abandoned,” you thought aloud, dragging your index finger along the kitchen counter, and cringing when it came back covered in dust.
As you wiped your hand on your jeans, you looked up to see Morgan sorting through a vinyl record collection. “You’re right. It doesn’t look like anyone’s even entered this house in years.”
You hummed, opening the first cabinet you saw, wrinkling your nose at the discovery that the house also smelled like it had been abandoned. As you went to close the cabinet, the one below you swung open, the force of the doors almost knocking you to the ground.
Stumbling back, you saw a flash of hands before you were slammed into the refrigerator behind you. Immediately, you dropped to the floor, watching as Morgan tackled the guy and shouted for Hotch and Prentiss.
“We need an ambulance, Y/N’s down,” Emily spoke urgently into her radio while Morgan cuffed your attacker.
You winced at the way the radio buzzed in your ear; the way Emily’s voice echoed combined with the throbbing pain in your head made you nauseous. “What do you mean ‘Y/N’s down’?” Spencer’s voice rang through the radios, prompting you to haphazardly yank the coiled wire from your ear.
Everything sounded like you were underwater, Emily and Hotch asked you questions as the fog cleared from your head, “You’re bleeding,” Emily said, there was a worried look in her eyes.
Hesitantly, you pulled your hand from your face, just to see it covered in blood. You weren’t even sure how long you had been holding your hand to your face. “Can you stand?” Hotch asked you, his tone was concerned, but there was something else buried within it.
Nodding slowly, both of them helped you stand. Emily hooked an arm through yours when you stumbled slightly, she led you out of the house and to the ambulance. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Morgan place his hand atop your attacker’s head, protecting it from the top of the police cruiser.
As soon as you sat down on the back of the ambulance, an EMT handed you a towel to hold to your nose. Your eyes flittered up to see Spencer approaching the ambulance, but to your surprise, he turned at the last moment and faced down the SWAT commander. “What happened in there?” He asked, his tone wholly accusatory.
“It looks like the person of interest was hiding in the kitchen when your team entered,” Commander Polk answered, obviously thinking Spencer was just asking for a sort of status report.
Spencer shook his head, “We’re hunting for a serial killer, and you had the audacity to miss the presence of an entire person?” He asked incredulously, “Did you even clear the kitchen?” He pointed in the direction of the house, where Rossi and JJ were now entering to look around more.
The SWAT commander faltered for a moment, “Someone did, but it wasn’t me personally.”
You winced as the EMT prodded at your face, surmising that your nose wasn’t broken, just bleeding badly as a result of the blunt force of the refrigerator. She pulled your hand from your face so she could inspect for any further damage. You opened your mouth to talk, but the EMT was quick to stop you, “You shouldn’t talk, not until we can look at the cut on your lip.”
While the EMTs got more supplies out, Emily helped you take off your Kevlar vest, undoing the Velcro for you and gently tugging it off. The entire front of it was covered in blood, you winced at the sight of the now-red letters.
“You need to figure out whoever checked the kitchen and make sure they know what they’re doing,” Spencer said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Commander Polk’s demeanor instantly changed, “I assure you, agent, we take training our team very seriously. This was just a mistake.”
Even from this distance, you saw Spencer roll his eyes. “First of all, it’s doctor,” he corrected – at which you rolled your eyes. “Second of all, of course, you take training seriously, it’s mandated by the federal government. This was a mistake, a mistake that ended in the injury of a federal agent,” you looked from Hotch to Spencer, hoping your unit chief would do something before Spencer got punched by the SWAT commander. “SWAT making mistakes gets other law enforcement officers killed,” he continued.
“What’s your point, doctor?” The commander asked.
Spencer cleared his throat, “I’m saying you’re fucking lucky she didn’t get killed, or else-“
“Reid!” Hotch called, stalking over to where your boyfriend was nearly getting into a fistfight with SWAT. He muttered something unintelligible to Polk before dragging Spencer away by the elbow, “What was that?”
Your boyfriend threw his hands up in the air, “He needed to be made aware of their mistake.”
Sternly, your unit chief shook his head, “They are aware, Reid, and I assure you I’m not going to drop it and there will be an internal investigation into what went wrong.” He raised his eyebrows, “That being said, it’s not your job to take care of mistakes made by other people.”
“No,” Spencer agreed, “but it is my job to take care of her,” he said, gesturing over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance.
Hotch pointed around to the locals and other SWAT members, “They don’t know that, Reid.” He whispered, keeping his voice down so he didn’t expose your relationship to everyone in the Arizona town. “Let me take care of it,” was his final statement before he walked back to Commander Polk.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Spencer spun around and finally walked over to you. Emily nodded at you before stepping away, “Are you alright?” He asked.
You flashed him a thumbs up, gesturing toward the EMT, who answered for you, “We just glued the gash on her lip, so she can’t really talk right now. She’ll be fine though, maybe a small scar, if anything.”
“Good,” Spencer said, ambling over and taking a seat next to you. “I was so worried about you,” he murmured, and you watched as he restrained himself from touching you.
Humming, you leaned into him for just a moment. Your movement was intentional, but it was quick enough that any passersby would assume you were just unsteady.
The EMTs left once the glue on your lip dried, directing you to ice it periodically to help with swelling and handing you care instructions.
You were left with a mild concussion, a split lip, and ruined clothes. All things considered, you felt like you were pretty lucky. The rest of the team piled into the SUVs, you and Spencer sitting in the back of one with Hotch at the helm and Emily in the passenger seat. “Who knew Reid had it in him?” Emily wondered aloud, eliciting a small laugh from you.
“I can’t believe you almost got into a physical fight with SWAT over a split lip and concussion,” you said, smiling slightly, but stopping as you felt the glue on your lip tugging.
Spencer rolled his eyes, “It wasn’t over the split lip and concussion, it was over the abhorrent display of-“
“Reid,” Hotch said in his no-nonsense tone.
Your boyfriend slouched back in his seat, “So, maybe it was over the split lip and concussion.”
Closing your eyes, you reached over the middle seat and took his hand in yours, “Thanks, Spence.” You whispered so that only he could hear, leaning over the gap between you and setting your head on his shoulder.
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pucksandpower · 3 months
Text
Pretty Woman Moment
Max Verstappen x wife!Reader
Summary: you have your very own Pretty Woman moment in the glittering shops of Monaco
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You take a deep breath of the fresh Monaco air as you walk hand-in-hand with Max down the cobbled streets. He gives your hand a little squeeze and smiles at you. Even after all this time, his smile still makes your heart skip a beat.
You’re both dressed casually — just simple jeans and t-shirts, with caps pulled low over your faces. It’s one of the things you love most about your life here. The two of you can blend in and just be yourselves, without the glare of fame and fortune.
As you pass a small cafe, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts out. Your mouth waters.
“I’m dying for an iced coffee,” you say longingly. “Do you mind if we stop for a quick drink?”
Max chuckles. “Of course, schatje. You stay here and keep browsing. I’ll go grab us something.”
He gives you a peck on the cheek before heading into the cafe. You watch him go, your eyes drifting down to admire his cute butt in those jeans. Yup, you’ve definitely still got it bad for him.
Humming to yourself, you continue down the street, peering in shop windows at the latest fashions.
Up ahead you spot the iconic red awnings of Cartier. On a whim, you decide to browse the opulent jewelry shop.
As soon as you enter the store, you can feel the receptionist’s eyes sweep over you, no doubt taking in your casual outfit. Her gaze lingers on your much-loved sneakers. You pretend not to notice as you begin looking at a display of gem-encrusted watches.
Moments later, a saleswoman approaches you. “May I help you find something?” The saleswoman asks in a frosty tone.
You give her a polite smile. “Just looking, thanks.”
The woman’s eyes flick to your sneakers again, and her lips press together in disapproval. Still, she gives a curt nod and stands stiffly nearby like she is waiting for you to leave.
You feel a flare of annoyance at her judgmental attitude, but brush it off. You don’t have anything to prove to her. You know who you are, sneakers and all.
As you admire a display of delicate tennis bracelets, you feel the saleswoman’s eyes on you. She hovers over your shoulder, as if worried you might steal something. You bite back an amused laugh. If only she knew the size of your jewelry collection back home. Max loves spoiling you with extravagant gifts just because.
You wander towards the case of Panthère de Cartier rings, their tiny emerald eyes glinting up at you. As you lean down to admire them, the saleswoman swoops in.
“I’m afraid those particular pieces are off limits to handle without intent to purchase,” she says crisply.
You straighten up slowly. “Of course. My apologies.”
You turn away, irritation prickling. The other salespeople eye you suspiciously too now. Pretentious snobs, you think.
Just then, the glint of your own diamond tennis bracelet catches your eye — the one Max gave you for your anniversary last year. It’s slipped partially down your wrist unnoticed. You nudge it back into place just as the first saleswoman appears at your elbow.
“Excuse me, but I believe you’re attempting to steal that bracelet,” she hisses.
You gape at her. “What? This is mine, I’ve been wearing it since I came in.”
“Likely story,” she snaps. “Jacques, could you please call security?”
A bulky guard steps forward, eyeing you distrustfully. “Let’s just take a look at that bracelet, miss.”
Mortified anger rises in you. “Absolutely not, I don’t need to prove anything to you,” you say heatedly.
The saleswoman’s expression hardens. “If you make a scene, we’ll be forced to restrain you until the police get here.”
Just then, the door opens and Max strides in, caramel-drizzled iced coffee in hand. His eyes instantly take in the situation. He steps forward, eyes blazing.
“What the hell is going on here?” He demands, voice dangerous. You’ve never seen his racing temper directed at you, though you know it lurks beneath his calm demeanor.
“It’s fine, Max, just a misunderstanding-” you start gently.
He silences you with a look, then turns his glare on the cringing salespeople. When he speaks again, his voice is lethally quiet.
“This is my wife, Y/N, and I suggest you treat her with the utmost respect. She is the most important person in my world.” Though his words are soft, they crack sharply like a whip. “Now apologize. Immediately.”
The saleswoman who accused you blanches paper-white. “M-Mr. Verstappen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-”
Max holds up a hand, cutting off her stammering. His sharp features are carved from stone. “Save it. Your behavior was unacceptable. We’ll be taking our business elsewhere and you can be assured that I will be speaking to corporate.”
But the security guard blocks your path. “Just a moment. I still need to verify this bracelet did not come from our store.” He reaches out towards your wrist.
Quick as a flash, Max grabs the man’s arm, halting him. “Don’t touch her,” Max says in a low, dangerous voice. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the ice in his tone.
The security guard tries to yank his arm away, but Max holds firm. “I suggest you let us leave right now, before I call my lawyer.”
He drops the offending arm as the security guard takes several steps back, then takes your hand gently. “Come, schatje. Let’s get you home.”
Once outside, Max halts and turns you gently to face him. His handsome face is creased with concern.
“Are you okay?” He asks, brushing a lock of hair tenderly from your face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
You lean into his touch, letting it soothe away the sting. “I’m okay now that you’re here. But Max … the way she looked at me, treated me like I was garbage just because of what I was wearing …” You trail off, throat tightening.
Max’s jaw tightens, a storm brewing in his beautiful eyes again. “She had no right to talk down to you that way. No one has the right to make assumptions and treat you like anything less than the amazing woman I know you are.”
Despite everything, you feel yourself smile slightly. No one can make you feel better like Max can but furious tremors in his fingers tell you his wrath still simmers below the surface. You squeeze his hand. “I’m okay, really. Don’t let them ruin our day.”
His expression softens as he looks down at you. “Of course. I just can’t stand to see anyone disrespecting you.” He smiles ruefully. “I may have overreacted.”
You laugh. “Just a bit. But it was gallant of you to come to my defense.” You lean up on tiptoes to kiss him sweetly.
Max wraps you in his arms. “I’ll always protect you, Y/N. I love you.”
“And I love you.” You take his hand again. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I saw the most adorable baby swans in the harbor earlier.”
The tension eases from Max’s shoulders as you stroll together along the glittering marina. You chat and laugh, the unpleasant scene at the jewelry store already forgotten. Because nothing can touch the happiness you’ve found here, in the sun-drenched streets of Monaco, hand-in-hand with the love of your life.
***
The next evening, you and Max stride arm in arm into Cartier, looking every inch the glamorous millionaire couple that you are. You’re dressed in a slinky black gown with diamond earrings while Max cuts a sharp figure in an Armani tuxedo. The salespeople gape as you saunter in, not recognizing you as the girl from yesterday.
You head straight for the saleswoman who accused you of stealing. “Remember me?” You ask breezily.
She flushes, stammering apologies. You silence her with one manicured finger.
“Let’s start fresh, shall we?” You extend a hand. “I’m Y/N.”
“S-Suzanne,” she manages.
“Suzanne, my husband Max and I are looking to make a significant purchase tonight.” You gesture around the lavish store. “You have some beautiful pieces. Why don’t you show us some options?”
“Of course, right this way.” Suzanne leads you to a private viewing room. Hands shaking, she brings out diamond necklaces, tennis bracelets, rings — tens of millions of dollars in jewels laid across velvet.
You and Max pretend to consider each item seriously, before waving it away. “Oh no, that won’t do … this one’s not quite right either …” With each rejection, Suzanne’s smile grows tighter.
Finally you turn to her, feigning disappointment. “Well Suzanne, I’m afraid nothing here has caught my eye. It all seems a bit … subpar.”
She gapes. “S-subpar?”
“Mmhm. I think we’ll try Bulgari next. Their quality is much more superior.” You pause, tapping a finger against your chin thoughtfully.
“You know, now that I’m thinking about it, I realize this just isn’t going to work out between us.” You gesture around the store. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sure this is a fine jewelry store for some people with lower standards, but for me ...” You trail off, shaking your head sadly.
Suzanne is white-faced, swallowing hard. “Please, give us another chance. I’m certain we can find something to your satisfaction.”
You pretend to consider it. “Well … I suppose we could take another look.”
For the next hour, Suzanne desperately shows you their most elite pieces, diamond necklaces worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. You and Max have a gleeful time trying them on, admiring yourselves, but ultimately waving each one away.
Finally, after rejecting a spectacular €500,000 art deco diamond choker, you say airily, “You know what, Suzanne? I just don’t think Cartier is right for me. It’s been … educational, but I believe Max and I will be going now.”
As you saunter out, Suzanne calls desperately, “Please come again soon!”
You pause, looking back with a dazzling smile. “I would … but you made a big mistake. Big. Huge.”
And linking your arm through Max’s, you sashay into the balmy Monaco night, leaving the frantic saleswoman behind.
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brainrotdotorg · 6 months
Text
here is my pitch for a mainstream movie trailer for disco elysium because i want you to suffer
Starts with complete darkness.
VO Ancient reptillian brain: “There is nothing… Only an ancient primordial blackness…”
“Radioactive” by imagine dragons starts playing
We see harry appear in this dark void, floating in slo-mo, camera slowly zooms into Harry’s face
VO Ancient Reptillian brain “Your consciousness ferments in it, no larger than a single grain of malt…”
Camera comes to rest on harry’s face, taking up the whole screen
VO Ancient Reptillian brain “No ex-wives are contained in it…”
Wham sound effect, music cuts out
Reaction shot of Harry opening his eyes. “Wait. Ex-wives?”
VO Limbic System: “Time to go to work in the shit factory!”
Sound of Kineema engine starting up that blends into the first lyric of the song
“I’m waking up to ash and dust” plays just as we see Harry open his eyes on the floor, Voice over plays as he looks around the trashed room confused
VO Harry: “Who am I? Why am I here?”
Clip of kim and harry shaking hands
Kim: “We’re detectives. We’re here to solve a murder.”
Harry: “I’m a police officer? I must be a superstar cop!”
“I’m breathing in the chemicals” inhale right as harry snorts some speed
Kim facepalms
Text in the disco elysium font on black screen:
HE’S LOOKING FOR ANSWERS
VO Joyce over a shot of the skyline: “Something is happening in this town, officer.”
VO Harry over numerous quick clips of him failing little things: kicking the mailbox, dropping the barbell, etc: “I’m an alcoholic. I’ve got a bunch of voices in my head. I don’t even know who I am! How do you expect me to solve a murder?”
VO Kim over him writing in his notebook: “I expect you to work, detective. It’s not easy; but thats the job.”
TO A MYSTERY:
Extremely fast montage of action or particularly striking moments synced up to a bunch of edited in bass thumps to the song– harry making the jump to get the coat, swinging to punch measurehead, visual calculus constructing a crime scene in glowing CGI effects, cuno shouting “fuckpig!” harry and kim dancing in the church, Harry reaching out his hand to the phasmid (who is out of frame), dolores dei turning away from the camera, culminating with kim lifting his gun in slow-mo to point at the mercenary
VO KIM: “Never fuck with Kim kitsuragi.”
Music slows and stops entirely
WHAT KIND OF COP IS HE?
Smash cut to a reaction shot of Harry looking in admiration. “How’d you get so cool, Kim?”
Reaction shot of Kim making a smug expression thats cut from a different scene.
Beat drop
THIS SUMMER IS GOING TO BE
Montage of different characters clipped saying the word “disco”
DISCO ELYSIUM
Wham shot, music cuts out. Harry leaned over a countertop about to lick the rum stain. Kim clears his throat.
Harry’s eyes dart to look up at kim. Shot of kim raising the eyebrow.
Slowly, slowly, he moves to lick the stain.
VO Electrochemistry: Aww, yeah.
Kim, sighing and shaking his head: “We’re all doomed.”
RATED PG-13
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prettyfastcars · 4 months
Text
He has me by my heart | Mob!Lando x Reader
Summary: Lando is bad for you. You know that, countless people have told you this. But no matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him. 
Themes: mob!lando, daddy kink, smut, explicit language, possessive!lando, 
a/n: you know those videos of Lando being escorted by police in italy yeahhhh
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You saw it on the news. 
Then again, everyone did. Ever since he was arrested a few weeks ago, people tuned in any moment they could to follow his story. He was well-known, filthy rich, and dangerous. He went against the law a lot. But somehow there was never enough evidence against him that incriminated him. 
Lando had too many loyal servants who were willing to lay down their lives in order to keep him away from being locked up in prison. But a few weeks ago, a couple days after you both broke up after a huge fight, he was arrested. 
Apparently he got into a rather violent fight at some exclusive club. Videos of it circulated around everywhere. And it was the most convicting evidence that had ever surfaced regarding him so the authorities used that to at least lock him up for a little time while they tried to dig up more stuff about him. 
However, that ended up not happening. Lando’s people kept everything clean. Every dirty work happened in the dark with no witnesses. Every skeleton was carefully placed in impregnable closets. So the authorities had no choice but to release him. 
The day of his release, you watched him on TV. How he gloated as the authorities let him go. How he enjoyed the many cameras filming him, taking pictures of him which would later surely spark many conversations in the media. He had always liked the attention. 
Even through the screen you could see it on his face. The arrogance, the smirks, the determined, proud look in his eyes like he was an unchallengeable monarch. He walked to his car, grinning like a king. He was, in many ways. A king in the darker side of life. 
Just then, your phone rang. It was an unknown number. You answered it with your heart racing, part of you already knew who was calling. 
“Hello?” You tried your hardest to sound as unbothered as possible. 
He chuckled from the other side of the call. “Hey princess, missed me?” 
You exhaled shakily, “Lando.” 
He scoffed, “You sound a little out of breath there, baby. Have you been watching me on TV?” He laughed. “You knew they could never keep me locked up for long, didn’t you princess? We talked about this, remember?” 
Oh. So he was doing the thing where he pretended that you two hadn’t had a big fight, said cruel things to each other and decided to go your separate ways. Yet again. 
“Why are you calling me?” You said, “We broke up, remember?” 
He sighed like he was annoyed, “Come on, princess. You know that wasn’t real, right?” He argued. “We were both tired and angry, and we didn’t mean it.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he said, “I’m coming over later, and then we’ll talk. Alright, princess? I can’t wait to see you.” 
With that he ended the call. And you were standing there in the middle of your apartment feeling confused. As always. 
When he comes over later, you thought, you’d set everything straight and break up with him for good this time. 
— 
Hours passed. 
You realised you shouldn’t just sit and wait for him. But you were anxious so you couldn’t do anything else other than wait. 
Later in the evening, three knocks at your door signalled that he was here. You stood there for a short while, fresh out of the shower and still in your fluffy robe as you stared at the door. You decided you were going to keep this short. 
He’d walk in, you’d talk, and then you’d ask him to leave. Right? Right. 
But then you opened the door. And there he was, in a fresh suit. His hair was a fluffy, curly mess. He smelt amazing. And that soft, puppy dog look in his blue-green eyes. 
“Hi princess,” He said, already walking in and shutting the door behind him, “I’ve missed you.” 
Your walls came crashing down instantly. You had your arms around him before you even realised it. Your face pushed into the crook of his neck as you shed a few tears and inhaled his familiar scent. Body wash and cologne. 
“I was so scared I would never see you again.” You found yourself mumbling against his skin as he backed you into the closest wall. 
He laughed as you pulled away to wipe your tears, “Babygirl,” He cooed, “You know that would never happen.” He cupped your teary face in his large hands and smiled at you. “Were you worried for me? Hmm?” 
You nodded. He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you. Soft lips against yours, you melted into him. Your back against the wall, your fingers tangled in his hair while he moaned shamelessly into the kiss… playfully biting your lips. 
“I’ve missed you so much, princess.” His hands wandered, undoing the knot at the front of your robe. He let out a strained groan when he finally felt your warm skin. He whispered between messy, hungry kisses, “Daddy missed you so much.” 
He pulled away to look at you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his lips were now fuller. Fuck, he was your weakness. 
“Missed this mouth,” He whispered while tracing your lips with the tip of his finger. His mere touch was driving you insane. So much so that you dropped down to your knees even before he asked you to. 
Lando looked down at you with pride in his eyes and a devilishly handsome smirk on his face. “That’s my good girl,” He said breathlessly, caressing your cheek gently as he watched you undo his zipper and pull down his briefs. 
His cock stood proud and tall in front of you. Your mouth watered shamelessly at the sight of it. Thick and big, you realised you’d missed him just as much. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his length and you placed the tip against your lips, kissing it and feeling the pre cum coating your lips. 
Lando hissed in pleasure as you pushed him into your mouth, taking in the tip and swirling your tongue around him. 
“I missed your fucking mouth, babygirl…” 
He whispered your name under his breath, his hand holding your head and guiding you up and down his cock. His taste drove you crazy. As did the sounds which left his mouth.
You intended on making him come hard and fast. 
“Fuck…,” He moaned again, right before coming undone all over your tongue. “You did so good, princess.” 
You looked up at him, still kneeling on the cold floor. You’d missed this too. 
“Stand up,” He ordered. And when you did, he leaned in to kiss you again. Rougher this time, more demanding as he pulled you away from the wall and guided you over to your living room. He grabbed your face gently by the chin and said, “Can you go make daddy a drink, princess?” 
You nodded immediately. Lando smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before smacking you gently on the butt as you walked over to the mini bar to make him a drink. You watched him the whole time you poured his whiskey in a glass. 
You watched how he got rid of his suit jacket, unbuttoned his white shirt and plopped down on the couch. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. He looked like he was at peace. So much so that you almost hesitated before you gently touched his face to get his attention. 
Lando smiled at you as he took the glass from you first, then pulled you onto his lap. Palms gently caressing his smooth chest, you admired your man. His beard seemed coarse you realised as you stroked his cheek. You wondered whether it would feel rougher in between your thighs. 
Judging by the smirk on his face, Lando thought of the same thing as he sipped on his drink. And his hooded eyes silently promised you ‘later’. His free hand rubbed up and down your exposed thigh, until he reached in between your legs. 
He shamelessly watched how his fingers softly rubbed your throbbing clit. You whimpered softly, grinding against his hand on his lap. 
“Who took care of you while I was away?” He asked. 
You knew what he meant. Jealous, territorial, over protective man that he was. 
“No one,” You answered, whining as he slid a finger inside you.
He swallowed all of the whiskey and leaned in to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, and all while slowly fingerfucking you he whispered along your collar bones, “If I find out someone touched you while I was gone I’m gonna do terrible,” He licked and bit your skin mid-sentence, “horrible things to them.” He left marks on your skin, marking his territory. “And I’ll make you watch.” 
You couldn’t help the unexpected giggle that escaped your lips. “No one touched me,” You assured him. “I took care of myself.” You added. 
Lando pulled away from your skin smirking like the handsome devil he was. “Yeah?” He insisted, “Show me how.” 
You gave him a shy smile. 
“Come on,” He said. “Show me how you touched yourself while I was away.” 
So you gave him a little show. Still on his lap as you touched yourself, like you did almost every night when he was gone. Even when you were angry at him, nothing else got you off like the memories of the moments you both spent under the covers.
Lando leaned back for a minute, his hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs while he carefully followed your finger as it dipped in and out of your wet hole. His eyebrows furrowed everytime you moaned or let out a wanton gasp. 
He grabbed your thighs tightly each time he had to hold back from shoving your hands away to touch you. His shameless stare urged you to keep going. Lando was almost just as breathless as you were when you brought yourself to the edge, slowing down and not wanting to come just yet. 
“Please…” You murmured, removing your hand away and looking into his dangerously pretty eyes. “Please,” You begged again
He looked up at you and smirked. He knew what you wanted. You wanted him to make you come. His smug grin widened before he taunted, “Aww what is it, princess? Your fingers don’t feel as good as daddy’s?” He cooed, “Hmm? You want daddy to make you come, don’t you?” 
You nodded quickly. Lando just smirked and shook his head. Then before you knew it, you were being pushed down onto the couch. You laid on your back while he hovered above you. You could feel the metal chain around his neck just barely brushing against your chest. 
“It’s okay, babygirl.” He whispered, his face inches above yours. “Daddy’s here now.” He said before leaning in to kiss your lips. His tongue gently stroking your lower lip, then his mouth trailed downwards, kissing your neck, your collar bones down to your breasts, licking and kissing and leaving behind his marks on your skin.
Your body felt hot. Burning under him as he took his time and kissed every inch of your skin. “Missed you,” he whispered as he pressed kisses down your chest. 
Within seconds his fingers found their way in between your legs again, carefully parting your wet folds before slipping inside you. 
He asked, “Do your fingers feel this good, princess?” Lando leaned in again, and kissed along your jaw while his fingers stroked you gently. “I bet they don’t.” 
You whined and squirmed and you wanted more. You threw your head back and whined loudly, you felt your walls clench around his fingers. 
He smirked, feeling it too. “Oh? You wanna cum, is that it?” he leaned in closer, whispering against your mouth, “You want it so bad, don’t you princess?” he teased, chuckling darkly.
You moaned, and whined and tried your hardest to keep quiet but you ended up being loud anyways. His touch, his stare, his words… “Look at you,” he whispered, kissing and biting down on your skin occasionally as his fingers took you higher. “So perfect for daddy.” 
He bit down on your neck as you squirmed, moaning shamelessly. 
“Come for me, babygirl.” 
You did. Welcoming the sweet pressure in between your legs and you came with a loud cry all over his fingers, coating them with your arousal and making him hiss and swear at the sight of you so beautifully dishevelled. 
He had missed this indeed. 
“You’re all mine,” Lando said. 
You were still recovering from your previous orgasm that you didn’t realise his mouth was on you again, the lower half of his face completely submerged in between your legs, which were on each of his shoulders as his tongue tasting you shamelessly, eagerly. 
“Fuck,” He moaned against your wetness. The sound of it making you shiver. 
His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your sensitive clit mercilessly. Your hands immediately gripped his messy, curly hair and tugged gently at his roots. 
“You taste so good, princess.”
You whimpered under his touch, feeling his faintly rough stubble rubbing against your soft skin. It burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His mouth felt good. 
“Fuck… Lando,” You moaned out loud as your back arched off the couch for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you. 
“You’re gonna cum for me, is that it, hmm?” He whispered and got back to teasing your clit with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.
“Please, please….” You murmured. He chuckled, his warm breath fanning your wet folds.
“Come on, ask nicely.” He whispered, biting down on your hip bone before kissing his way back to your clit.
“Please daddy,” You whined, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please, can I come?” 
His smirk meant that he was satisfied. “Of course you can, princess.” He murmured. “Come all over daddy’s tongue.” 
Lando got back to eating you out like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. The pressure in between your legs was building up nicely. So with a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and came all over his face. 
The waves of pleasure which washed over you were so intense that you teared up as you came, grinding your hips against his waiting mouth. And Lando lapped up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough. 
When he finally pulled away to let you breath for a moment, he kissed your thighs, admiring the pretty mess that you were. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful, princess,” he whispered, looking down at you. “All mine.” He had that feral look in his eyes. Shameless, and raw. Passionate, and unrestrained. He wanted you and he wasn’t hiding it. “Get on your hands and knees.” He ordered. 
You did as he asked. You knelt on the couch, holding onto the back while he stood behind you surely admiring your ass as your back faced him. 
Lando trailed a finger lazily up your spine before sliding his fingers around your neck. He gripped your throat gently, and tightened his grip just enough so he got your full attention. His lips hovered over the side of your throat and his other hand reached around and toyed with your clit, his fingers making you tremble.
You could feel his erection pressing against your butt. And your heart raced in anticipation.
“Daddy missed this pussy, princess.” He whispered into your ear, his fingers teasing your clit until you were embarrassingly wet for him. “I know you missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you? Hmm?” 
You whined in response as his tongue licked along your neck. 
His hand gripped your throat, eliciting a loud moan out of you. “Answer me, babygirl.” He said. “Use your words and tell daddy you want his cock.” 
His fingers left your clit as he undid his trousers again, grabbed you by the hips and aligned his cock to your entrance. Pushing against it just enough to make you lose your mind but not enough. 
Damn him. He knew just what to do. How to play you to get you to do exactly what he wanted. You pushed back against him, desperately craving friction, as you whimpered, “Please daddy, I want your cock. Please…” 
He chuckled. “There’s my good girl.” He praised and gripped the sides of your hips tighter. He pushed into you with ease, earning a sinful moan out of you. 
Lando groaned as he filled you up entirely, your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he buried his cock into you. Your knuckles gripped the back of the couch tightly as you felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so sensitive and sore from before.
You were barely able to think straight. You’d missed him. You’d missed this way too much. Having him right now gave you a high you did not quite comprehend but you were grateful for it. 
“So fucking good… princess…” Lando spoke in a haze, and you barely heard him as the only thing you focused on was how good he felt, sliding in and out of you. His cock stretching you out each time he fit it snugly inside you. 
He felt it too. He relished the sounds your bodies made together. The careless moans he earned out of you, how wet and ready you were for him. How perfectly you clenched around his cock. Your soft, often loud, whimpers and his groans of pleasure. 
“I dreamt of this perfect, warm pussy the whole time I was locked up in there, you know that, princess?” Lando pounded into you like his life depended on it. Stretching you out and filling you up each time he rammed his cock into your entrance. 
You could feel the soreness his touch would leave behind, and you didn’t care. But fuck… his dirty mouth only made him hotter. 
“The only that kept me going was knowing that I’d come home to you and fuck you like this,” He whispered, and you felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling your orgasm so close that you almost shed tears again. 
Lando kept mumbling in the throes of pleasure, “Like you were made for me, for this cock…” He trailed off, moaning in that boyish way that only made you want to come harder. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, babygirl? Hmm?” 
Right there… you were tight on the edge, ready to let go…
But just as you were, he pulled out and flipped you around. You were on your back again, looking up at him. His roughness only turning you on even more. 
He smirked when he saw that look of uncontained desire on your face. “Not so easily, princess.” He chuckled. “Daddy spent all this time away from you. So it’s only fair that now you beg for my cock.” He parted your legs, and settled in between them again, his cock slipping inside you once again. “Beg for me.”
When he saw that you didn’t, his fingers wrapped around your throat once more. “I said,” he growled, “beg.”
Your lips parted as you gasped, giving in. You’d do anything for him you realised. 
 “Daddy please… please make me cum…” you whined, “I missed you so much, I need you-,” you cut yourself off, moaning wantonly as he began fucking you hard and fast again.
He grunted and moaned shamelessly right in your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace. He pounded into you incessantly. 
You stared into his eyes, tears escaping your eyes, lips swollen and bruised, neck littered with his bite marks, and your eyes just as wild and passionate as his. His messy hair, that dangerous way of his, his reckless nature, that annoying arrogance, his pride was his fatal flaw and yet… Oh fuck you loved him. 
Lando smirked, leaning in to whisper against your mouth, “Daddy loves you more, princess.” 
Well, guess you said it out loud then. 
“You belong to me, don’t you? Hmm?”
“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, daddy can I-” 
The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came all around his cock, moaning and squirming. Your fingers scratching his neck, your arms holding him tight like he was your lifeline. He was, in more ways than one. 
Lando moaned out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you, filling you up again. “Fuck,” He groaned, his voice a little hoarser. “Fuck, princess.” He sighed, putting his whole body weight onto you for a moment. He nuzzled your neck and left soft kisses along your skin. 
You let him rest for a moment, mindlessly playing with his hair. You almost laughed thinking about how your initial plan was to kick him out of your life, forever. But deep down you knew, you could never get rid of Lando. 
No matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him.
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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Part 3 of obsessed Johnny
(Part 2 is here.)
CW for extremely dubious consent.. or this might actually be coerced consent? Is there a difference? Anyway, be safe!
There’s a few things you learn quickly. If you ask nicely, present things just right, Johnny will give you just about anything. Any foods, any drinks. He movies a huge flatscreen into your room and makes it so you can watch damn near anything with streaming.
“I just want to let everyone know I’m okay. You can read the message yourself before I send it! But the police will come looking if I don’t tell people I’m alright.”
So he cuddles up next to your shoulder and reads as you make up lies to family and friends and professors that you’re fine, but you’re very stressed and need space. That you’re taking some time to “work on yourself.” Johnny takes your phone away again when it’s done and apologizes again when you cry about it.
There are things you don’t ask for either, that he brings you. A squishy pillow in the shape of a bunny. A bunch of fidget toys. Soft thigh high socks for the cold room and cotton shirts that stretch down nearly to your knees. Not a lot of pants.
When you carefully ask why, he blushes and tells you that you look cuter without them. Still, you have a couple pairs of fleece joggers that mysteriously disappear sometimes.
Then there’s…. well there’s this.
“I’m making it up to you, angel,” he breathes against your bare thigh. “I’m sorry I’ve been so mean. But I promise it’s all for you, I’ll show you.”
You’re trembling, trying to think of a good way to tell him to stop that won’t upset him. Hard to do that when he’s prying his way so gently between your legs, tonguing at your cotton panties.
“It’s alright, I won’t take anything, Bonnie. Going to give you everything,” he whispers. “It’s not for me. All for you to feel good.”
He rips through the lace on the side with his teeth and tugs it away to bear you. He groans, eyes going moony.
“Gorgeous girl,” he moans, laying kisses all over. “Such a pretty kitty. Knew you would be.”
“W-wait, wait, soap,” you finally force out. But he’s far, far too gone now. His eyes don’t even flicker away from your pussy.
“Don’t get shy on me now, hen.” He loops one of your legs over his shoulder, stroking the outside of your thigh. “Nothing to be shy about.”
Your stomach clenches as his mouth drops open, hot air across your sensitive core. His mouth is already shiny. He finally, finally pries his eyes from your cunt, looking up at you through thick lashes.
“Let me, baby,” he begs. “Say I can, say I’m allowed to make you feel good. You deserve it, let me make this up to you.”
At this point, you don’t think he’d listen if you didn’t give permission so you just nod.
“S-slow, soap. Please?”
“Anything for you,” he promises. “Anything… anything…”
He kisses your pussy like a lover leaving his beloved. Aching, slow, devoted. His tongue grinding against your clit, licking at your entrance. He moans at the taste of you, eyes rolling back in his head.
You try to lay still, to be quiet, to just... let it happen to you. But Christ, he feels so good. Luxuriant. There’s no resisting the way he sucks so softly at your clit, tongue rolling over and over that little bundle of nerves.
You’re soaking, you can feel it running down onto the bed. He swipes the flat of his tongue through you slit, picks his head up enough for you to see the thick, glistening string of saliva and slick connecting him to your cunt.
You press a hand to your mouth as your hips buck, muffling the noise you make into you palm.
“No, no,” he whimpers, “how am I supposed to know I’m taking care of you? Please, baby, let me hear you. I know I’m never gonna hear heaven’s choir so you’re the closest I’ve got.”
He dives down with renewed vigor, sloppy noises mixing with his grunts and moans. He’s writhing his own hips into the bed, getting off on the taste of you alone. You’ve lost control of your voice - and your hands. They’re tangled up in his mohawk, guiding him to tongue fuck you just right.
You don’t know what does it? What sets you off. Only that it’s all too much all at once and you’re tipping over the edge before you can think about what it means when you do. You clench down on his tongue, ride his mouth as wave after wave curves your back off the mattress.
When you can breathe again, his cheek is lying on your thigh, a dopey, cum-drink grin on his messy face.
“So pretty when you cum,” he sighs, lashes fluttering. There’s a wet spot against your calf; he came when you did. Just… just from…
“Can’t wait to give you another.”
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idanceuntilidie · 5 months
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Hii! Can i request yan cheater with male reader? I really like your writing, and I also love you sm! Have a nice day 💗💗💗💗
Thank you so much I'm gonna cry, I love you too!! Sorry if this is wonky, today was a very exhausting day for me mentally. I hope you enjoy anyway <3 come again :D i made the cheater male I hope you don't mind--
Yandere Cheater x M!Reader
Requests are open
TW: yandere behaviours, breaking and enetering, slightly digusting parts including human hair and organs.
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Ciaran was quite special. Very handsome, always surrounded by people. You aren’t sure if being with him was a blessing or a curse.
He swore he was yours only, but you can’t help but feel hurt when he is flirting with someone right in front of you. There are also times where his phone blows with notifications from different people. It hurt, your heart felt like it was shattering just to be put back and destroyed again.
But the last straw was when you got a message from one of his lovers, they got a moment ofweakness, they felt bad and spilled everything out in a long message. The cherry on top were screenshots and photos of them kissing each other.
You were sure this time your heart just ceases to exist. You cried a lot that day, not ready to face Ciaran. You packed his things and left them outside of the door.
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It baffled him how you would leave him just like that, it was just a small misunderstanding. It was, he thinks, just one time thing. You got just oh so boring he couldn’t take it anymore. He still loves you! He really does.
He missed your smile, your smell, how beautiful you looked in the rising sun when you just woke up. His heart squeezes in his chest. Another night spent waiting by your door, you won’t let him in of course, but he just likes to sit there, happily humming when he sees you through your windows. It became a routine, you never called the cops on him, which means you still must like him. Hope burned in his chest, and slowly the obsession for you began.
And he will get his little boyfriend back. You don’t feel safe in your house anymore, Ciarian gave up on sitting outside of your house yes, but now you can’t stop receiving messages and calls from random numbers.
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Sometimes the caller breathes, silently stuttering your name, sometimes even moaning. Calling you his little pretty boy and shit. It made your stomach twist. You called the police many times, but at this point they just don’t believe you because of your lack of evidence. Lazy bastards. You also began receiving gifts, your favorite food, drinks, clothes that fit you perfectly. There was well, one time where your friend was over and one of these gifts appeared, with a card attached to it. A box of chocolates.
You were very tired that day, barely keeping yourself awake, you told your friend to take it. They accepted gladly, and began to eat while you went to the kitchen to make some coffee for you and them, that's when you heard a shriek and gagging sounds. You ran to your friend and saw them pulling hair out of their mouth, there was some skin attached to it. Your friend threw up soon after.
So, after that incident their gifts landed in trash. You feared what you might find out in them next. You don’t feel safe here, but you don’t have enough money to move. So like a rational person, you took another shift. The less you are home the better. It turns out you were wrong.
You came back in the middle of the night, you were practically falling asleep while standing up. You took off your shoes and headed to the kitchen for a sip of water so you can head to bed. When you turned on the light you froze in place. A beautifully wrapped heart shaped box sat on the counter waiting. You swallowed, body moving on your own. The gifts never appeared inside of your house. Hell, they are getting bolder with each gift. As you got closer to the box, a foul smell filled your senses. It was sweet, a little fruity.  Your shaking hands hovered over the opening of the box, carefully lifting up the lid.
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Your scream echoed through the house, as you fell down to the floor. Inside of the box was a human heart, carefully placed and surrounded by your favourite flowers.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, and a warm breath on your cheek.
Ciaran.
Your breath hitched, you didn’t dare to move as his bloody hands wrapped around your shaking form.
“Did you like my gift? Only the best for my boyfriend, do you forgive me now? Look how much I have done for you.” He kissed your cheek.
“I forgive you for kicking me out, I’m a better man after all of this has ended you know? Now we can be together forever.”
1K notes · View notes
cattordi · 11 months
Text
a/n did y’all miss me??? writing this in class 🤗 so enjoy. honestly felt like i write absolutely too much abt absolutely nothing
summary you get a flat tire on the way to a party and on top of that you’re in the middle of nowhere so you call bucky to help you
pairings brothersbestfriend!mechanic!bucky barnes x collegestudent!reader
warnings smut , breeding, praise, not proofread, choking, foul language, arguing?,a bit of fluff etc. 18+ MINORS DNI
don’t test me
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“only this would happen to me” you groan before pulling your car over in the absolute middle of nowhere.
you were on the way to a spring break party but clearly the universe had other plans. getting out of your car, you walk around to check out the damage.
low and behold, a flat tire.
“no fucking way.” you whisper. you were miles away from a gas station or any sort of place other people were. grabbing your phone from your back pocket of your jean shorts, you scroll through your contacts finding your brothers name.
you place the phone to your ear and sit for a bit letting it ring.
and ring.
and ring. until finally you’re sent to voicemail.
what the fuck?
you hesitate as you keep scrolling through your contacts looking at other options of help; until you finally reach that one person.
bucky.
your least favorite human to ever walk the earth but you could never deny how he made you feel sometimes.
the man was good with his words, you have to admit it.
only problem was, he was your brothers best friend and also a dick.
pressing the call button, you wait as the phone rings.
“please pick up, plea-“
“hey y/n, what’s up?” he says and there’s shuffling in the background.
“hey, i’m sorry to bother.”
no you aren’t.
“i got a flat tire and i need help changing it. if you can’t that’s fi-“
“where are you?”
“in the middle of nowhere.”
“what the hell? get in your car and send me your location. i’ll be there in 15.”
knowing you’re at least 30 minutes out of town, you comply and wait.
after what feels like 20 years, bright head lights blind you from behind and you sit up in your car. your drivers side door flies open and a pissed bucky stares at you.
“you could’ve at least locked the door y/n. hell you could’ve gotten murdered.”
rolling your eyes you get out, “didn’t think anyone would even be out here at this time of night.”
“don’t start with your attitude.” he begins while pulling a car jack out his truck, “i’m not in the mood.”
“whatever.”
“why are you even out here this late?”
“what are you my dad?”
“no but i’m your brothers best friend and i have the right to know.”
“it’s none of your busines.” you say and glare at him.
“tell me.”
“no.”
“y/n..” he basically growls at you.
“no.”
“i swear if you don’t tell me.”
you can see the frustration in his face so to be a brat, you keep going.
“i was going to get fucked.” you say and try not to laugh.
visible jealousy crosses his face and he stands from his squatted position. “you what?”
“i was going to have sex? is that a prob-“ you begin but are cut off by a hand around your throat.
“you know that pisses me off, so why keep pushing it? hm?” he hums the last part, “you tryna get to me darling?”
you do the best you can to nod as pleasure filled tears brim your eyes.
this is what you always wanted from him.
his metal hand slims into your shorts finding your clit. “do you want me to take you in my truck?”
you nod and his eyes go dark, taking a bit of the pressure off your throat.
if anyone passed by, you’re sure the police would be called.
“use your words.”
“yes.”
“good job baby.”
you both walk to his truck, him following behind you.
he opens the door to the back for you and you hop in immediately filled with even more excitement.
as soon as he closes the door behind the two of you, his lips attack yours. though you’re in such a small space it feels just right for the two of you.
pulling at your shorts, bucky unbuttons them and pulls them down with your underwear.
he takes notices of the wet spot on your panties and chuckles. “so wet for me already.”
his hand slids between your folds; coating every inch of you before two fingers slide in.
you gasp at the stretch and his pace only gets faster. “you feel so tight around my fingers baby.”
“i’m gonna cum.”
he stops and you’re immediately pissed off. “why’d you stop?”
“i want you to cum when i’m you.”
you hadn’t notice his jeans were down but his dick caught your full attention,
and my lord was it big.
“it’s not gonna fit.”
“oh it will. lay back for me.” he says calmly all the while, lining up at your entrance.
the anticipation wears off as soon as he slams in you and begins moving. the truck fills with sounds of moans and skin slapping.
“you’re so tight, i love it.” he says and his strokes become faster.
“you’re so big.” you say in between moans. “i’m getting so close.”
“you’re doing so well,” he begins and leans down to kiss you, “you take me so well.”
you’re getting closer and closer to coming everytine he hits your sweet spot and it couldn’t feel any better. “harder please.” you moan and he complies immediately, thrusting into you.
“i’m gonna cum.” you say and at that moment his thumb finds your clit and rubs big meaningful circles.
“my lord darling, you feel so good around me. it’s taking everything in me not to cum right now.”
he continues to thrust into you getting you closer and closer to what you both desire. “i’m cumming bucky.”
“i feel you darling, keep going. you’re squeezin’ me so tight.” he begins and you continue to cum around his cock,”i’ve waited for this for long baby.”
yours moans get louder as when grabs your legs and puts him on his shoulder, making his thrust hit a different spot inside of you. “y/n..” he moans, “fuck you’re making me fun babydoll.”
with that, his continues his fast thrust hitting your g-spot repeatedly till he comes.
warm spurts of cum fill you as his thrust slow down and eventually come to a halt. “holy fuck that was the best sex i’ve had in a long time..” you say while trying to catch your breath.
“you wanna go again?”
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neo-percs · 6 months
Text
CAR SEX:: ( day 16 )
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WARNING:: Street racer! sunghoon, street racer, fem!Reader, praise, hair pulling, fingering, finger sucking,dirty talking, dacryphilia, riding.
SUMMARY:: after winning tonight's street race it was unethical for police to chase after the rowdy crowds, Sunghoon doesn't expect for his opponent to cover for his ass.
WORDCOUNT:: 4.3K
A/N:: repost from my old account.
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Engines were revving on the black asphalt, rap music playing throughout different car speakers and the bright-colored headlights flashed down on the women wearing short, revealing, yet stylish outfits, and men who wore baggy clothes, snapbacks, and most up-to-date shoes.
Your car was parked at the starting line as you finish waiting for the next racer to pull up. The sound of a deep rumbling engine made you turn your head. A bright green car with green LED lights under it, the painted dragon.
The windows were not tinted yet it was hard to see who was in the driver's seat. People clearing the path for the car to easily make it through and reach the red spray-painted finish line.
Once the car pulls into the space next to you behind the sloppy drawn red line the driver's door is pushed open, and you could see a pair of shoes pop out and then ahead from behind the door. Standing at his full height you could see a blonde tall boy, with messy hair,  with an intimidating face. He was wearing baggy black cargo jeans, a tank top matching showing off his buff arms, and a small silver chain on his neck.
You turn to look at the man who was running the racing stipulation for the night. You sat on the hood of your car not daring to turn your head. "Tonight you're racing, for 10,000 dollars. At the end whoever makes it from here and around the corner and back to this red line wins. Now I got a good surprise at the end so be ready" the man spoke, he had an Afro with a comb sticking out on the side.
You nod your head "so we're all putting down 2,000?" One of the other men said sitting on his golden hood "yeah, and if you can't give that much you ain't racing" the man said, holding his hand out. You pull a small stack of money out of your butt pocket and push yourself off the hood of the car. Walking up to the man hand off the cash.
As you turned around you met with the buff chest of the blonde man, stopping in your tracks you could see him tower over you. His brown eyes look at yours as he lifts his arm to hand off the cash. "Enough heart eyes get in your cars," the man said, making you smile and shake your head pushing the blonde by his shoulder to walk past him.
You walk to the driver's side door feeling the eyes of the sunghoon burn through your figure as you open the door and rest and hand on the hood as you lean down to sit against the furry seat cover. You lift your legs, let them rest on the car floor and shut the door.
You push your keys into the ignition and your engine rev. The crowd jumped a bit seeing a flame spill from the exhaust pipe. The man with the Afro began waving the crowd to back up. "That's right back yall asses up before you get grilled" he shouted seeing the men and women move away from the street and onto the curb and wide walk.
The other men that were also competing in the race began to get inside their cars and rev their engines. A woman in a crop top and some baggy jeans that rested on her hips walked in front of the cars. "First one here and around the block back wins," she said loudly over the engines "ready?!" She asked with a smile growing on her plump red lips. She flipped her black curly hair over her shoulder raising her arm. The cheers of the crowd got louder as the revving became louder.
"Go!" She shouted, dropping her arm. You press your foot on the gas, shifting your gear into the sport and watching how the speedometer moves. The small arrows on your indicator shoot from 10 to 80 as your gear shifts, the wind pushes pressure into the air as you speed up, and although cars were shooting past you, you were in no rush.
"Just wait" you mumble pushing the gas harder going from 80 to 110 speeding past silver and blue glowing cars decorated with LED's and stickers, you switch lanes making the car behind you try to speed up and unconventionally bump the back of your bumper.
You growl looking into your mirror seeing the blonde with a small smirk on his plump lip, the look on his face drives you to speed up to 200, smoke coming from your tires from how hard your tires rubbed against the gravel on the road.
your eyes flicker back onto the road ahead of you as you go onto an empty road one of your hands leaves the wheel to press the button on the radio and turn up the volume. The rap music puts you back into your racing headspace. The bass was vibrating your whole car.
Seeing the other cars go speed up closer to you and sunghoon made you narrow your eyes through the mirror. Meanwhile, sunghoon sat idly in his car shoe pressed against the gas hard as sweat began to slowly Pearl on his forehead.
The empty streets make it easier as you speed through your engine waking up the neighborhood. As soon as you turn the corner you see a bridge which was a straight shot to the finish line.
"Woah,'' Sunghoon says at your sharp turn speeding down the back streets, nearing the familiar crowd, your car drifting and leaving skid marks on the dirt and asphalt making one more sharp turn and drifting before seeing the crowds that were forming at the finish line.
You hear another engine rumble behind you, your heart was practically beating out of your chest, and you felt dizzy. You see the green color of sunghoon's car in the corner of your eye which makes you scoff.
Just as you had officially left the speed from the 100s to the 200s as you rolled your eyes as you saw him wave with an easy grin. You both speed side by side, looking onto the road trying to steer as the cool leather wheel gripped with your sweating palms.
You stepped on the gas as hard as you could and once you had made it closer to the bridge you could see it lifting on both sides opening a  bit down the middle. You slow down whispering to yourself "this is bullshit" but when you saw the green car speed past you and fly over the bridge's gap you realized the race was still on.
You press the gas hard in hopes that even taking this jump you would win in the end. Once you feel how light your car is speeding over the gap between the bridge you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest as you scream.
Your car jerks as your tires hit the ground, your front bumper hitting the road and falling off with a 'clunking' sound, you groaned. Pressing the gas and shifting gears your car began to catch the wind of sunghoon.
But once your cars were close enough to the finish line you could see how sunghoon pressed harder on the gas passing you making you feel your face heat up in anger seeing as his two front tires touch the red line before yours.
"Shit" you curse under your breath passing the red line with a bitter mood. Stopping a few feet behind him seeing how he stepped out of the car to be crowded by people cheering him on. Pulling your keys out of the ignition you get out of the car walking in front of it to see how bad your front bumper looks.
"That's gonna cost a pretty penny, right?" You hear coming close behind you with the sound of shoes pattering on the concrete. "I fix my cars so no, not really," you say snarking, turning to look at sunghoon who stood over you holding out your money.
You snatch it out of his hand "I didn't need it back but I'll take it" you say with a grin as you stuff the folded money into your pocket. "You're welcome," he says, cocking his head to the side. You were about to respond but the sound of police sirens made your eyes widen.
You look at the blonde male "we gotta go now or they're gonna bust our asses" you say grabbing his wrist and pushing him to the passenger side of your car. "What about my car?" He asked worriedly, opening the door and tossing himself into the seat shaking the car.
" Your keys are still in there, someone's gonna take care of it, don't worry I'll figure out who," you say opening your side of the door and tossing yourself into the seat and the both of you slamming your doors shut.
Twisting your key that was still in the ignition you shift in reverse backing out the crowd and shifting gears into driving your foot stomps on the gas in hopes that no police car follows. And unfortunately for you, a cop had managed to follow you halfway around the city.
You had made it onto the highway, and because it was so late in the night there were barely any cars. But fortunately for you and the buff man in the seat next to you, once you had switched lanes in front of a semi-truck the police had lost sight of you which gave you the chance to take the interstate closest to your left and turn on a dense road.
Once you had been set back on an empty road with nothing but empty grocery store parking lots you had decided it would be best to cool off and stay there for a while until the cops stop searching the area.
Once you found a parking space closest to the middle of the lot you had to turn the car off and shut off the headlights. The lights of the storefront logo emit deep shades of red and blue. Your back was pressed to the seat as your head pulled back with exhaustion.
Your head drops to the side of your shoulder as you look over at sunghoon with curious eyes. When he felt your eyes burning into him he couldn't help but meet your gaze "what? Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked with a smile plaguing his lips as his eyes narrowed.
"Nothing, you just- seem so calm for a guy who just won 10,000 dollars and went on a police chase with some random girl" is all you say shrugging your shoulders and hearing the fabric of your shirt rub against the fur-covered seat. "Well you keep looking at me like that and see where it gets you," he says as he shifts around in his seat.
"And where will that get me?" You ask, leaning onto the middle console and staring at his side profile with low eyes."You think you're funny?" He asks, arching his brow at you. Biting your lip to hide your smirk "the funniest" you rasp as you let him see the smile settled on your plump lips. "Yeah?" He asks leaning in closer "definitely" you answer back.  "God damnit" he whispered, turning to lean over the console as well cupping your jaw and pulling you into a rough kiss.
Your teeth clash as you leave open mouths kissed against each other, his lips were soft and warm. your hand moves from gripping the seat cover to running through his blonde locks. Your eyes fluttered shut as well as his making you tug on his tresses earning you a small groan.
Your lips trace each other to the point you wouldn't break from the kiss until your lungs screamed for air making you pull away. Sunghoon didn't care to catch his breath, he began leaving kisses down your neck sucking small red spots that would soon swell over into bruises in all kinds of shades from purple, blue, and red.
His hand that once touched your jaw was now clutched on your waist. He was high off just the sound of the small moans and little puffs of air you let out of your mouth while he continued to lick and suck harshly against your neck. "Fuck, you're so cute" he whispered looking up at you with soft brown eyes and his pupils blown in adoration.
he can't help but to reach out and rub the callused pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek. Pulling it away with a soft pop a small groan leaves his lips as he lets his mind wander.
The hold you had on him was tight and you didn't even know it, it was like you were a love-sick Anaconda and with that, your grip on him had become almost deadly. He felt like he was choking up his words because his mind was too clouded by the feeling of your skin on his.
His hand's grip on your thigh wanting to pull you in his lap, your knee knocking against the console as you shudder at the feeling on his teeth, and plump lips dragging against your skin that he had marked as his for the night. "Sit in my lap" he mumbled in hopes of wanting to fulfill whatever raunchy fantasy you had been living at the moment.
Pulling back you see the small grin on his lips from how disheveled you had looked. Your chest was rising and falling in an uneven battle of tug of war with your lungs. You sit up on your knees trying your best to climb over the console that had been in the way.
You had let yourself straddle over his thighs that took up a portion of the seat- yet it wasn't like you were complaining. The pad of his thumbs found their way under your shirt and rubbed gentle circles on your bare hip as he continued his assault on your neck as if he was a painter letting the hickeys become his paint and your neck and chest were the blank canvas he needed to douse in color.
His palms pushed into your hips as he trails small pecks up your neck and jaw, you felt like you were in a state of euphoria the way your eyes soften looking into his gaze. Your mind was in such a haze you hadn't realized the both of you were mindlessly grinding against each other.
No matter the tight space you had yet to let that affect you. Your noses brush against each other and you could feel sunghoon's breath on your face, your hand finds its way to his hair pulling him in by the back of his head until your lips trace his. The sound of heavy breathing and clothing rustling around in the passenger seat of the car was the only thing that could be heard.
Your hips began to slowly begin to move as your ass pushed down on the bulge poking his pants "feels so good" he mumbled against your lips as he let out a small moan. His hands grip the back of your thighs as he puffs out shaky breaths. "Can you lift your skirt for me?" He asked nicely, you could only comply. Your stomach churned hearing the way he asked.
You murmur out a small 'yes' as your hand gets a grip on the hem line bunching it over your hips and you slide your shoes off as well as your panties. sunghoon's eyes connect to your pussy that was aching and covered in slicked-up arousal. "All this from kissing? damn," he groaned to himself.
You press yourself down on him, feeling the fabric of his pants against your throbbing core makes you whimper. "Open your mouth," he says, this time it wasn't so polite. Your jaw slacks a bit and you stick out your warm tongue seeing how his eyes darken and almost made you moan.
Bringing his hand up to your face his middle and ring finger pressed against your tongue making you close your mouth a suck. sunghoon could feel your tongue swirl around his fingers while the both of you make direct eye contact. He felt like he could flush under your gaze and melt from the view of your face alone.
You moan against his fingers as you continue to jut your hips and feel pleasure jolt through your body sending shivers down sunghoon's spine. Pulling his thick fingers past your lips. You lift your hips seeing how his hand gets lost between your plush thighs.
Rubbing the pads of his fingers against your entrance that was already soaking, teasing your slit feeling you clench around nothing alone just from friction made sunghoon throb in his boxers. he moaned into you before easing his finger passed your entrance. the added stimulation had you mewling.
You hiss at the stretch as sunghoon adjusted himself in the seat and reached his opposite hand between to push the seat back enough to have him leaning back and watching the perfect view of you perched in his lap.
"I didn't think you were the type to let people you meet in the same night fuck you," he said as he let his finger slip deeper inside your clenching walls. "I guess you're just lucky" you moaned, feeling him pump in and out of your sopping pussy with an all too loud squelching sound.
Your hand grabs needly at his shirt hoping for more pleasure. "More- please" you whimper as your hips twitch with pleasure. I mean who was he to oppose the idea of getting you off? He did as asked pushing his other finger at your entrance hoping you would loosen even just a bit "why are you so fucking tight?" he moaned as he feels you practically suck in his fingers. He pushes them deep enough to touch his knuckles, your slick created small strings against his fingers each time he'd stuff you full of his fingers.
It felt just so right— the way the cold metal of his rings pushed against your slit as he sped up his pace. Your sticky walls could feel every last part of his thick fingers that could make you quiver "fuck- fuck" you moaned as your fingers bunch up the fabric of his shirt.
the beginning of your orgasm begins to build deep in your stomach. "your fingers... feel so good, fuck," you moan. He smiles at you, beginning to curl his fingers instead. "fuck!" you gasp. "Keep doing that, oh god," you moan, gripping his sheets as you try rolling your hips. He smirks at you, moving them slightly faster.
You could feel yourself coming closer to the painstaking orgasm and all you could do was moan and let your eyes pinch closed. "Open your eyes, I wanna see the look on your face when you cum" he says as his fingers repeatedly pound into the spot that made your legs shake and your back arch.
"I'm gonna cum! please let me cum" you whimper as your hands shake. You had opened your eyes to be met with the view of sunghoon and his blonde hair sticking to his forehead with a sheen of sweat on his body, he only nodded his head and let out a small 'mhm' giving you the green light. You felt the pleasure spillover as you cum "oh my god" you moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Your release drips down his fingers and palm as you grind against his fingers. Slowly you inch away from his fingers as small thin white strings of slick cum keep the both of you connected.
Your breathing was slightly off-putting the way you felt him pull his fingers out of your silky walls slowly making you feel empty. You felt dizzy just off of that. But you knew there was more to come when sunghoon began to fiddle with the button and zipper on his jeans.
His happy trail that touched his naval down to the base of his dick became prominent as his fingers dug to pull down his briefs as well as his pants letting them fall to his knees and his dick breathing freely in the warm air of the car.
The windows began to fog over as the red and blue hues from the market front shop sign had become even brighter on your skin.
He was hard, and his tip shined with precum at his soft blushed head, his slit leaking with arousal. The sight alone made you rub your thighs together as that incessant warmth between your legs became stronger and stronger.
you wet the palm of your hands with your tongue before taking his dick into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb. His hips buck as he let out a small wince at the sudden contact on his shaft.
You arch your back as you push his tip against your slit rubbing it against your clit that had been covered in a mix of your release and arousal. You push his tip in feeling how your ridged walls clenched from just his tip.
sunghoon tossed his head back against the seat hearing a small 'thump' in return. His jaw was clenched tightly making his jaw look narrow and sharp. "Fuck" he groaned loudly letting his hands grip at your ass as you ease down his shaft until your ass pressed against his pelvic bone.
You felt like you were stuffed, sunghoon sat up until your chests touched. He slowly began guiding your hips to bounce repeatedly at a set pace. The way you sink into him was addictive. Your hands move back to grip at his hair, you tug and pull with each bounce.
"You feel so good" you whisper into his ear, sunghoon could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head from just hearing you talk dirty. He began to thrust into you setting a faster pace. You moan at the feeling of his thick shaft rubbing against your silky walls and his tip practically kissing your cervix.
His nails began to dig into the fat off your ass as he continued to let you bounce in his lap, the sound of your moans and the creaking of the car was all sunghoon's ears could pick up on with his foggy and fucked out mind.
He was drunk on the feeling of you wrapped around his cock like this and it felt amazing. You whispered heavy 'please' for him to go harder as you rut yourself against his base.
A small ring of white began to drip from his base as his thighs hit yours as he continued to pound into you harder. You feel hazy as you moan your hand slides against the window leaving a slippery print.
You clenching down on down on sunghoon kept his mind set on doing one thing, and that was making you cum all over him. Your hair bounced with every hard thrust he delivered to you sweetly. His hand found its way to your hair gripping at your tresses making your eyes water at the pleasure and pain.
"Fuck, you look so damn good when you cry" he choked out along with a whimper as his tip practically bullied at your cervix. The twist in your stomach made you realize that you were close "I'm so close!" You had moaned feeling your walls spasm around him sunghoon began to thrust into you faster as he felt that same feeling bubbling up inside of him.
From any onlooker, the way he pounded into you could make it seem like a pornstar was just doing child's play. He couldn't help but let out a string of curses and moans "fuck, fuck" he groaned feeling how you squeezed down on him letting your orgasm wash over you.
The sweet moan you let out pushed him over the edge as he let his cum paint you white on the inside. He could feel you throbbing and his cum spilling past your walls. He couldn't help but thrust deeper into you fucking his cum deeper inside you.
Your hips are shaking with overstimulation. You couldn't even put together a coherent sentence. You just let him fuck you dumb. Your whimpers fall on deaf ears as he lets you rest against his chest.
"it's okay, just take your time" he whispered into your ears kissing your temple repeatedly as you let your eyes heavily fall closed. His lips turn into a smile as he feels nothing but a haze wash over him. Leaning into him your nose brushing over his and your lips pressing small pecks to his, your hand on his jaw.
He's stealing your breath, and inhaling all the sweet little sounds you make, swiping his tongue to get a taste of your lip balm before it's completely kissed away. You're smiling against his mouth, you can't help it, giggling lightly at the feel of his breath fanning over your kiss-swollen lips.
"You wanna lend me some cash to fix my car?" You huff jokingly, "I just won 10,000 dollars, I think I can spare you some" he laughs breathily. God he felt like he was in heaven.
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2K notes · View notes
dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months
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F.I.N.E || MV1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x teacher!reader Summary: When your student gets injured and you can’t get hold of her parents you try call an old contact number hoping he can help. Warnings: slight angst, fluff WC: 3.4K
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Max frowned at the unfamiliar number calling him. If it wasn’t for the fact it was a local number he would have ignored it but since few people had his personal number he decided to answer it. Immediately he was hit with the sound of high pitch cries and a soothing voice softly singing a lullaby that eased the knot of anxiety that had formed in an instant. 
“Hello, is this Max?” you asked when you realised the dual tone had stopped and the call had been answered. You shifted the child carefully on your lap and grabbed the old enrolment form to see the name again. “Max Verstappen?”
“Maxy?” the girl in your arms echoed with confusion.
“Yes, who is this?”
“Miss Y/L/N, I’m one of Penelope’s teachers. There’s been an incident and I found your number under her emergency contact list.”
“Oh no, sorry, there must be a mistake. You should call her mother or father. I’m not, we’re not, um, I shouldn’t be on that list anymore.”
You cringed as another piercing cry deafened your ear and you rubbed the little girl's back. “It hurts,” she whimpered.
“I know, sweetheart, someone will be here to get you shortly,” you replied softly and you hoped it was the truth. “Look, Max, I’ve tried every other contact number and no one is answering. Is there any way you could come down here? At least until I can get in touch with someone else.”
Max pinched the bridge of his nose but when he heard P’s shuddering cry he knew he had to go. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.”
Max didn’t care if he got a parking ticket, he took the loading space right outside the preschool building. He likely would have gotten a speeding ticket too in his rush to cross the city but thankfully there weren’t any police in his path. 
“Maxy!” 
Penelope wriggled in your arms as she spotted the stranger walking into the classroom. His eyes immediately found her and he crossed the space to where you sat holding her.
“Hey, P,” he greeted with a smile and knelt down at your height. “What’s happened, bug?”
Her little eyes welled up again as she lifted her bandaged wrist. “I fell off the playground.”
“I don’t think anything is broken but I would suggest having her doctor check to be sure.”
“I don’t know who her doctor is. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”
“You’re contact details were-”
“Those must have been from when she started. Her mother and I haven’t been together for a while.”
“Oh, I see. I’m sorry to put this on you. I swear I tried every other phone number we have.”
Max nodded and his sigh sounded exhausted as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I just need to make a call. I’ll be back in a minute, bug.”
Max walked along the room, looking over the children’s artwork as he pressed his phone to his ear and waited. Eventually the call went to voicemail and his spine straightened tensely. “Kel, I’ve picked up P from daycare and I’m taking her to the hospital. Call me when you get this.”
You could see the man was stressed when he returned and his short hair pointed in all directions from the hand he kept nervously running through it. It was cute.
“Daniil is in Italy this week for work,” Max said as he returned to your side and picked up Penelope’s Prada backpack before opening his arms. “I’ll keep trying to get a hold of Kelly. Come on, bug.”
Lunchtime was coming to an end and children were starting to file back into the room, a few of the older ones stopping at staring wide eyed at Max. He was tall but not that tall or formidable to draw such a reaction but your question was answered when one of the boys ran to his picture on the wall. Timothée unpinned the drawing of a race car and ran up to Max, holding it out with a pencil.
“Sir, can you please sign this?”
Max looked used to the attention and took the pen with a polite, “Sure.” He stared at the picture for the moment after signing it and chuckled. “Is the RB20?”
Timothée nodded eagerly. “It’s my favourite.”
“Mine too,” he said as handed the picture back and smiled as it was crushed happily to the boy's chest. Max then carefully picked up Penelope, slowly so she wasn’t jostled, and his arms brushed yours. 
“If you need anything you have my number,” you reminded as the weight was lifted from your lap. “Children can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”
Max smiled fondly at Penelope and shook his head. “This isn’t new. I still have her room set up.”
“You do?” Penelope asked hopefully and Max turned his head as he cursed to himself. “Are we going to live with you again?”
“No, no, sorry, P,” he said softly. “I just haven’t had time to redecorate.”
“Oh.” You both winced at the defeated tone and you knew the fresh tears had nothing to do with her arm this time but you were saved by the bell as it spurred Max to toss the bag over his shoulder and look to the door.
“I hope you feel better soon, Penelope.”
“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.”
“Thank you,” Max echoed with a nod before departing.
All afternoon you were distracted with thoughts of the two of them until the final bell rang and you grabbed your phone. You had sporadically tried to contact Daniil and Kelly again but the calls went straight to voicemail every time and you found no returned calls.
Y/N: How is Penelope? Max: She is happy watching The Little Mermaid. She has a sprained wrist and the nurse complemented the bandaging so you should be proud. Y/N: And how are you? Max: I’m fine.
Max swore as the pot of water boiled over and he hissed as he grabbed the handle to find it was just as hot. He dropped his phone reaching for the teatowel and then P started calling out from the living room complaining that the movie was boring - the same movie she watched a thousand times and she had specifically asked for.
Y/N: My mentor used to tell me that stood for: freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Are you sure you are fine?
After turning the stove down to a simmer and wiping up the mess of water that had splashed across his floor he went and changed the movie to what would hopefully last longer than ten minutes before she changed her mind. Taking another attempt at making dinner, he grabbed a bag of pasta from his pantry and poured its entirety into the pot.
Max: I’m thinking I am definitely neurotic and possibly starting to freak out. Y/N: I couldn’t have that on my conscience. My offer still stands if you need some help. Max: You don’t have anyone you need to get home to? Y/N: My cat prefers his own company unless he’s hungry and he’s already been fed today so no. Max: I don’t want you to go out of your way. Y/N: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing to follow through. Let me help. Please?
Max smiled at his phone before sending his address and looking around to see how tidy the place was. His jacket was tossed on the table instead of being hung up and Penelope’s bag was spilled across the entryway floor, not the first impression he wanted to make.
You entered the port address into your phone and locked the classroom behind you, feeling a little unsteady at the thought of seeing Max again. Penelope was a sweet child and she seemed comfortable with Max but you hadn’t really ever heard her talk about him before. You told yourself the only reason you were going there was to check on your student's wellbeing, but a small part of you wanted to see Max again.
You wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard your knock on the door or that you had the wrong apartment and you rapped your knuckles on it again before he called out. There was a crash and then a groan close to the door before it swung open and Max balanced on one leg.
“Uh, is everything okay?” you asked as he clutched his foot.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he rushed before he caught the teasing curl of your brow and he froze before a smile grew on his lips. “Right, freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional.”
“You’re a quick learner.” You stepped inside at his invitation and he closed the door behind you while you rushed towards the burning smell in the kitchen. “Oh, wow.”
“Fucksake,” Max grumbled as he grabbed a wet tea towel before reaching for the tray of garlic bread in the oven. “Ouch, shit!”
“You said a naughty word,” Penelope called out from the next room like it was something that she regularly commented on. “That's another 20.”
Max sighed heavily as he looked at a jar on the bench that was already filled with cash. “Shit.”
“I heard that.”
“Shouldn’t you be watching your movie?”
You giggled at the amusing conversation before turning the tap to cold and taking Max’s hand. “Wet towels and hot trays make steam.”
He watched you guide his hand under the water and flinched as it hit the burn mark on his palm. “I don’t usually cook, if you couldn’t tell.”
“The life of a bachelor. Keep your hand there.” You moved with ease around his kitchen trying to save what was left of dinner but paused at a huge pot of pasta that had swelled up and pushed the lid half off. “Are you expecting a dozen other people?”
Max shrugged innocently. “I didn’t know how much to put in.”
“Well the good news is the top half is edible,” you stated after finding a colander and draining the pasta until only a thick layer remained stuck to the bottom of the pot. “Do you have any sauce?”
“Sauce?”
“What were you going to have with it?”
“Garlic bread.” You both looked at the charred sticks still smoking on the baking tray.
“Do you mind?” you asked as you pointed to his fridge and the cupboards around the kitchen.
“No, please. Go ahead.”
You checked the fridge first and you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables. “Do you live off salads or does all this go to waste?”
“Neither, my nutritionist comes by twice a week and he prepares the meals.”
For a moment you had forgotten his profession. You had googled his name after Timothée couldn’t stop talking about meeting the ‘Max Verstappen’. “That must be intense, and restricting. Does your social life suffer?”
“It’s not so bad. I still get to go out for dinner and have a few drinks when I want.” He started to pull his hand out from under the water but you tutted and caught his wrist, holding it back beneath the cold stream.
“Keep still,” you warned with a voice you saved for children who weren’t listening. “It needs 20 minutes under there.”
“You want me to stand here for twenty minutes?”
“No, science wants you to stay there for twenty minutes.”
“Are you a teacher or a nurse?” he asked with a playful roll of his eyes.
“Depends if it's halloween.”
His loud laugh made you smile and you eased your grip on his hand one finger at a time to see if he would stay where he was. He did. “I’ll behave, Miss Y/L/N.”
“You can call me Y//N.”
“I kind of like calling you Miss Y/L/N.”
You checked to see if he was serious but thankfully there was a teasing smile on his face before you returned to the fridge to gather some ingredients.
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By some small miracle dinner can’t have been too bad since everyone cleaned their plates of the pasta, though you thought they were likely being polite since you could still taste the hint of smoke from the bottom of the pan. Penelope had spent most of the meal asking Max if he remembered what they used to do when she lived there, how they used to go travelling and shopping. You got to see first hand how much patience the man had as he answered each question despite how it made him uncomfortable.
“You miss her,” you commented after she had gone back to the tv. Max started to collect the dishes with you and sighed as he placed them in the sink. 
“It was a big change when they moved out,” he spoke quietly and you stepped closer so you could hear better. “She kept asking if she did something wrong.”
“That must have been hard for you.” His eyes widened and you wondered what shocked him, but you had a feeling it was the fact someone showed concern for him. Even though you didn’t know the details of the break up, it was clear he had and still did care for Penelope and you felt sorry for him. “Can I hug you? I’m a hugger and I feel like you could really do with one.”
“You want to hug me?”
You tried to shrug it off casually. “If you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everyone needs a hug sometime.”
“I do,” he said quickly, very quickly, before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I-I wouldn’t mind a hug.”
You smiled at his tentativeness and stepped into his personal space, slipping your hands into the narrow openings between his limp arms and his body to curl around his waist. It took a moment for him to respond before his own arms embraced the comfort and curled around your back too.
“You smell really good, Max,” you complimented as you rested your head on his chest and caught the scent of his cologne.
“Thank you,” he chuckled, the amusement relaxing him even more until his entire body curved into yours. “I think you have playdough in your hair.”
You hummed in agreement. “Highly likely. You wouldn’t believe the places I find that stuff at the end of the day, glitter too.”
His bold laugh made you smile and you didn’t care it was at your own expense, you were just happy to know it was because of you. Unfortunately you didn’t have the chance to hear it again as his phone rang from the countertop and you saw Kelly’s name light up the screen.
“I should let you get that,” you said as you stepped back, instantly missing the warmth and his scent. “I’ll go keep Penelope company.”
Max waited for you to leave the kitchen before he accepted the call, his calm state evaporating in an instant. “What the hell, Kelly? Where have you been?”
“My phone was on flight mode, I was on a plane. Is P okay?”
“Her wrist is sprained but she’s alright now.” Max pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself to breathe. “Why would you leave her alone?”
“She wasn’t alone. Maria was meant to pick her up after school and I should have been home in time for dinner but my flight was delayed.”
“Who is Maria?”
“Her nanny.”
Max had to suppress the groan at the news. He knew Daniil hated the idea of a nanny and he had offered to have more custody so that P would be raised by her parents and not a stranger, but Kelly had vetoed that idea.
“Do you want to go out for dinner? I owe you.”
“No, we’ve already eaten.”
“Some other time then.”
Max made a non-committal sound, his eyes darting to the living room where he watched Penelope explain the movie to you. You were so attentive and patient, asking questions that had Penelope thinking deeper and using such a simple interaction as a learning opportunity. He could see why you suited being a teacher.
“Maybe,” he lied, “just let me know when you’re almost here and I’ll bring P out to you, I don’t want to confuse her any more.”
“Right, of course,” Kelly sighed. “I’ll see you soon, Max.”
Max made the most of the time he had left with P, abandoning the dishes so he could sit on the other side of her and watch the movie about a chef rat. She had cozied into his side with a yawn and nudged his arm until he eventually draped it over her shoulder. It was completely innocent but you couldn’t help noticing the heat of his hand touching your arm, the warmth spreading like wildfire.
The fire was doused when his phone vibrated and the moment to leave had come.
While he grabbed Penelope’s backpack, you grabbed your handbag and prepared your own goodbyes. It was silly to feel sad the evening had come to an end but you knew that you would likely never see Max again. You weren’t famous and he didn’t have children, your paths weren’t meant to cross.
“Have a good weekend, Penelope,” you said as you knelt down and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.”
“Bye, Miss Y/L/N.”
You rose to your feet wondering where you stood with Max until he opened his arms. “Anytime you need a hug, you have my number,” you offered as you stepped into his embrace, no matter how unlikely that prospect was.
“Or if I’m feeling fine?”
You giggled and nodded against his chest. “Especially if you’re feeling fine.”
The walk to the elevator was slow, as if no one wanted the strange evening to end, but there was no stopping time as it began making its way down from the penthouse to the ground floor. The doors opened and you instantly spotted Kelly in the reception area, her elegant and effortless beauty reminding you that you still had playdough in your hair.
With one last look at the man beside you, you gave him a small smile and stepped away. “Goodbye, Max.”
He didn’t respond as you headed to the valet area but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and yours vibrated a moment later.
Max: Are you okay?
Y/N: I’m fine.
Max: Me too. Emotional, you?
Y/N: Insecure.
Max: Want a hug?
You stopped and turned to see Max hand Penelope’s bag over before struggling to separate the girl from where she clung to his leg. She didn’t know, couldn’t see how it was hurting Max, but you could. So you waited, and when the mother and daughter had departed you stepped into the elevator with the subdued man, slipping your hand into his.
The elevator rose quickly and you watched Max’s throat bounce with the deep swallow he made before he choked out a broken, “Fuck.”
“I feel like I should remind you about the swear jar,” you teased as you bumped your shoulder gently against his arm. “But I’ll let you off this once because I have a soft spot for you.”
He looked down at you from the corner of his eye and you saw some of the sadness fading from them. “Does that make me the teacher's pet?”
You gasped dramatically and clutched your chest with your free hand. “I could never bestow such high praise after just one day.”
“What are your plans tomorrow then?” he asked with a smirk as the doors opened and he pulled his house key out of his pocket.
“I don’t have any.”
“Lovely, now are you going to answer my question?” He stepped inside the apartment and opened his arms. “Did you want a hug?”
Your smile chased away more of the shadows in his eyes and the last of it was erased when you stepped into his arms with an eager nod. “I will never say no to a hug.”
His chest bounced with a laugh and you felt him rest his cheek on your head with a contented sigh. “That is very good to know.”
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