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a-mint-bear · 28 days ago

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Comfort Object

Male Yandere x Reader

You see a really weird "job" post online, and the money seems too good to be true. But you aren't really in a position where you can turn it down...

You hope it doesn't get weird.

Part 2: You're Just What I Need

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It was a very… concerning “job” posting.

But desperate times, and all that.

It had shown up about a week ago, and it wasn’t hard to see why no one had taken the poster up on it as of yet.

Bedmate Needed

● 11 pm to 6 am

● $25/hour up front

● Riverside Motel

● Room 44

● Not a sex thing

The last note seemed tacked on in a later edit, but it was still… not great.

You’d have to be either a gullible idiot or a desperate one to go for a job like this. Unfortunately, you were the latter. Very much so.

You couldn’t take another night on the street. It was getting so cold out. The promise of a warm bed was almost enough to lure you in on its own. But the money… 175 bucks just to sleep in the same bed as some internet creep?

Despite the clarification in the post, this had to be a sex thing, right?

You hadn’t gone that far, despite everything. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it… but the thought was too terrifying. Making yourself completely vulnerable to a stranger that could just decide you were less than a person and do whatever they wanted to you? You had to draw the line somewhere.

But at this point, you weren’t sure that there was a line you weren’t willing to cross anymore.

. . .

The Motel wasn’t the seediest you’d ever seen around town but it wasn’t a place you would’ve voluntarily stayed at even two months ago. Back when you had options.

Creepy post guy opened the door after a couple of knocks, with an awkward, pregnant pause between them. He wasn’t quite what you expected for an internet creep, but he was still a sight to see.

Really bad posture and dark, greasy-looking hair, with the darkest circles under his eyes you’d ever seen. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second, but he held it together long enough to gesture you into the room.

“Hey…” His voice was low but he sounded nervous. And so, so tired. “You’re… You’re a little early. That’s…that’s fine. Uh, come in.”

You felt his eyes on you as you passed him, and it didn’t help your anxiousness. Not one bit.

“Hey so, I-I really…I uh, need a shower.” He stumbled over his words with a breathy, nervous laugh. “Unless you wanna sleep next to a… fuckin’ sweaty mess all night. Do you wanna go first or…?”

You must’ve looked nervous because his eyes went wider, digging into his pocket.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to… Oh, uh…here.” He nodded, pressing the money into your hand. “Up front, just… just like I said. You just…just seemed like you maybe sorta needed one too.”

Some part of you must’ve still had an ounce of pride left because your whole body felt on fire with shame, embarrassment so consuming that you froze up. It had been a couple of days…

He just looked away, seeming like he was embarrassed himself.

“I w-wasn’t gonna like… try to join you or peep on you or nothin’!” He tried to assure you, eyes darting in a panic and talking a bit too fast. “If I, like, go first? I won’t get mad if you change your mind and leave… I get it. I’m not gonna like… go after you or call the cops or nothin’ like that. I just…”

He stared at the floor, nails digging into his arm as he seemed like he was having trouble breathing.

“I really… I really need this.” He was so quiet, but his voice was so desperate.

You couldn’t really be considering this, could you?

He seemed more like a weird, awkward, sad guy than a real danger or some kind of pervert.

And you really did need a hot shower.

It seemed like a safer bet to have him go first, if you were really going through with this. And it would give you a chance to look around the room for a spot to tuck away your pocket knife, just in case.

When he was in the shower, you did just that. The spot between the mattress and bed frame would be easy to grab at if things got hinky.

If things got all touchy-feely, as you suspected they would, him finding that on you or leaving it in your pocket when your clothes got tossed wherever would be really inconvenient.

Steam rolled out of the bathroom when he stepped out, shirtless but with sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He was thin, almost alarmingly so, but you could still see muscle, enough to pose a problem should he decide to overpower you.

This was your last chance to back out, before you’d be vulnerable to this odd stranger.

But even if you left, the money wouldn’t last long, and it’s not like you had any other options.

You were so grateful that the motel tub wasn’t disgusting, but you would’ve gotten clean regardless. Two days worth of sweat and funk was washed away and it felt so heavenly… But it was hard to relax when you were trying to stay hyper alert of any noise that could be that man trying to get in or even eavesdrop.

But…

Nothing.

You finished your shower and brushed your teeth, doing everything you could to feel clean that a motel bathroom could provide. And there was no sign of the guy.

But you had to go back out there eventually. You supposed you could lock yourself in here and get a full night’s sleep indoors, even if it was on the floor of a motel bathroom with your back against the door, but part of you just said “fuck it” and warily peeked around the doorway into the bedroom.

The lights in the room were dim, but warm. He was sitting on the end of the bed, one knee tucked into his chest, staring at the tv as the bright colors of a nightly talk show reflected in his eyes, but something told you he wasn’t really watching. His eyes met yours and you froze.

“It’s almost eleven…” He mumbled, his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. His hand ghosted over the spot on the bed next to him. “… Will... will you stay?”

So many thoughts raced through your head. What would happen if you laid down beside him? You could probably deal with sex… even if it felt a bit wrong. But if he wanted to hurt you?

Your brain reminded you:

What do you really have to lose?

When you told him you would stay, sitting next to him, you could see him relax. Just a bit.

“If you still want to leave-”

But you cut him off, almost afraid he would talk you out of it after you’d made up your mind.

Avoiding his stare, you told him you had nowhere to go.

The bed was cold, it might take a bit to warm up with the two of you in it, but it was the least of your concerns at that moment.

“So it’s...” He’d spoken up so suddenly, you hoped he didn’t see you flinch. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming just a tiny bit calmer. “... it’s fine if you just… lay there or h-hold onto me, or play on your phone or whatever, anything is fine. Just… just don’t leave ‘til mornin’. Okay?”

A worrying pause, but you told him you understood.

And that was that. He laid next to you unmoving for almost an hour before you had the nerve to move at all, shifting slowly to your side to face him.

His eyes were shut, his breathing even, but somehow you knew he was still awake. It was like he was trying to sleep but it just wasn’t coming to him. He looked so worn down, like he could just keel over any second. It definitely made him less intimidating, but you weren’t letting your guard down, no matter how much your body was screaming at you to just let go.

Despite your better judgement, you wondered if he really was being genuine about this not being a sex thing. It was a relief, sure, but it just raised more questions.

Why were you here?

. . .

You’d stopped looking at the bedside clock a while ago. It had to have been hours by then.

Your anxiety and dread somehow felt quieter under the lull of impending sleep. Despite everything, your body was at least grateful for a warm bed and hot shower, and if you didn’t sleep there now, you didn’t know when you’d be able to sleep somewhere warm any time soon.

Every moment that ticked by, you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to let go… This whole situation was weird, but you just wanted to sleep.

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He hoped against everything that he would just fall asleep.

Just this once, he didn’t want to have to follow through with it. But he was so damn tired. There was this ache behind his eyes that he could feel in his bones, his mind never stopped racing…

He could feel your body heat in the bed next to him. You had either been very scared or very considerate, you’d only moved once since you laid down with him.

He hated that he had to do this. He felt sorry for you, he really did. But it was drowned out by the buzzing in the back of his brain. The constant whispers in his ear.

There had been so many before now, it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten caught. But this was a huge, dangerous city. Everyone in it was just a blip to anyone paying attention.

He could feel their skin under his palms buzzing at the back of his brain. How their eyes stared into his, burning with betrayal, fear, helplessness. How he saw them fade away.

How it was the only thing that worked to let him finally sleep. The only thing that quieted the whispers, at least for a little bit.

Some booked it after getting the money. Some just showed up and straight-up robbed him. Some tried to leave in the middle of the night, thinking he was asleep. But if they stayed and fell asleep, that was that.

He told himself that he gave them all a chance.

If you managed to stay up all night, you’d be safe. But he really needed this… It was already day three, and he’d never made it past day five without completely losing it. Trying to fight this, it was too hard. The longer he stayed awake, trying to avoid what had to happen, the worse he felt. The louder the voice got. The deeper the ache in his bones. But the more often he did it, the easier it got. And that was worse in a different way.

It was wrong. He wasn’t so deep in it that he couldn’t see that. The morning after, he always hated himself and what he did.

But as the days went on, it would all creep back in. And doing it again felt less and less horrifying to him.

You were scared. He could tell. And you had every reason to be, he told himself. But it just meant it would take you longer to fall asleep.

He could wait all night. And if you made it the full seven hours, you weren’t what he needed. You’d be free from him, from this. Hopefully you wouldn’t come back, no matter how badly you needed the money.

He wondered what you meant by having nowhere to go.

But he tried not to wonder too much. It would make this harder.

He could hear your breathing getting slower, your body relaxing into the bed. You wouldn’t last much longer.

His eyes shot open when he felt you suddenly touch him, tucking your forehead into his shoulder. You weren’t quite asleep, a cuddler? He almost laughed to himself when half-asleep you looked a bit frustrated, like it wasn’t enough.

You muttered something about being cold, lazily scooting your body closer to him up the bed. He felt his breath catch when suddenly, his head was pulled to you, tucked into your chest as your arm circled him. He was suddenly the little spoon, but facing you. He could hear your heartbeat.

He wanted to say something, wake you up or wriggle free to make what he had to do easier on you when you fell asleep. He felt a hand in his hair, playing with it and idle gentle nails on his scalp.

It was… nice. Everything felt calm, the buzzing and horrible thoughts were still there but they were being drowned out by the warmth of your skin, the thump of your heart in his ear.

You were mumbling something. He held his breath, trying to hear.

You told him, or whoever you were dreaming about, maybe even no one at all, that he was okay. That he was safe.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Something was different this time. He felt all his control slipping away, and for once, he wasn’t scared.

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You woke to a sunbeam across your face, and the strange man in your arms, sound asleep. According to your phone, it was 10 am. You were grateful for the extra hours in a warm bed, but would he be mad? Did he have somewhere to be?

You couldn’t remember anything past drifting off next to him, but the two of you were tangled together, he seemed so comfortable.

Now that it was over, and your anxieties were much quieter, you really got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t… unattractive, you supposed. He was all elbows and ribs but laying against your chest made him look so soft and harmless.

Wasn’t the worst way you’d ever made 175 bucks.

You wondered if he’d shell out the extra 100, or if that would be pushing your luck.

Either way, it would be best to wake him up.

Gently scratching at his scalp, you told him it was getting late.

You watched as his eyes struggled to open, and for a few calm moments, he just laid against you. After a beat, he gasped and jolted up, head swiveling around the room in a panic.

“I…” He seemed really out of it, almost scared. “I actually…”

He stared at you, eyes wide. You told him it was ten in the morning, hoping everything was okay and if it wasn’t, that he wouldn’t take it out on you.

He grabbed you by the shoulders, and for a moment you were sure something bad was going to happen, but somehow, it was even worse.

He was crying.

Breaking down, sobbing hard as he just kept staring at you. Even with the odd night you’d just had, this was somehow the weirdest part.

Despite yourself, you asked him if he was okay. He pulled himself together and you were startled again when he touched your face, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and it was freaking you out a little. Just a tad.

“You… It was you…”

All you could think to ask was if you should get going, maybe trying to make it seem like you had someplace to be, or were at least trying to be considerate of his time. But it didn’t seem like he was taking the hint.

He grabbed your hands in his, the sudden contact made you jump. He pulled them to his chest, he was too close. The way he was looking at you…

“Can we… Can we do this again? Like tonight? Please?” He was practically begging, the look in his eyes changing. That nervous, achingly tired gaze was hopeful. And so warm.

“You can have the room, if that’s what you need!” he offered, maybe somehow having picked up on your current situation. “I can pay more too. Just p-please…”

He held your palm to his cheek, staring up at you.

“I need you.”

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a bit of a different one from me, but i kind of liked how it turned out

that feeling when your new yandere was totally gonna off you but you were just too comfy

he's never gonna let you go. you're the only thing keepin him from killing again, ya know?

i don't have a ton of yanderes that actually kill, as odd as that seems. but this guy is one of them

he's not supposed to be a huge commentary on any particular mental health conditions, i did a bit of "research" into psychosis induced insomnia (using that term VERY loosely), but like does he hear voices because he can't sleep, or can he not sleep because he hears voices? who can say? certainly not I, the dummy who made him

i wrote this one pretty much right after my last big deadline ended, but it got reworked a bit cause it just needed some tweaks:

the yandere started out as tired but crass, kind of a dick, and when he switched after that good night's sleep it felt off. It felt more interesting if he was a bit pathetic and creepy, it felt like less of a red flag for the reader to stick around

the reader was originally going to be a straight up s*x worker that got hired by the yandere for him to kill, but it didn't really feel like my place to make that commentary on violence against s*x workers or to more or less soften it with a yandere love interest. it just didn't feel right for something so unserious

but ive been having horrible writer's block lately, so i thought i'd finally put this one out. i need to read/play some yandere stuff and get inspired. let me know if you have any recommendations y'all ✌️

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blkkizzat · 1 year ago

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⋆༺𓆩𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝘾𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙎𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙈𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙅𝙅𝙆 𝙈𝙚𝙣 𓆪༻⋆

18+ Only - Minors DNI Kinks: Boob job, Riding, Edging, Sadism/Darcryphilla, Overstimulation, Double Penetration/Cockwarming A/N: So I am a flop and I went out this weekend and now I have homework to do so I couldn't finish my first Kinktober fic on time but hopefully by this Weds! I did want to post SOMETHING for the 1st day of Kinktober so I hope this suffices! This isn't officially apart of my Kinktober Thrilling Ghouls & Smooth Criminals but will add this to the bottom of the list as a bonus! WK: 2.1k Song Inspo: Monster - Lady Gaga (slightly) Slightly black fem coded but no descriptors

Edit - 11/1: The Trick or Treat Anthology or Halloween Fluff with JJK men is now up as a part 2!

Enjoy!

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Gojo: Tittyfucking

He might be one of the most powerful sorcerers ever and fight curses more terrifying than anything a Hollywood writer can imagine but that doesn’t mean he still isn’t going to scream like a bitch at the tinniest jump scare.

You watch horror movies with your boyfriend Gojo so he can comfort you but you end up being the one holding on to him.

You suspect at times though he plays it up a bit, just so he can lay his head on your soft tits and rub his face in between them when a “scary part” comes on.

Your suspicions are confirmed when his hands slip up your shirt and pushes up your bra to cup your tits.

“Aw come, on babe let me just play with them a little– they’re like stress balls.” This always results in him somehow convincing you to let him straddle you. Gojo is placing his already-dripping-and-hard cock between your tits even before half the movie is over. “Aw, come on pretty girl, I’m so close! Open up that tight little mouth for me wide like you scream when a scary part comes on.” He groans out as he fucks himself between your soft tiddies. “You mean the way you scream Satoru!?” you retort rolling your eyes. Clearly you haven't learned much Gojo thinks. Your slick mouth gets you into trouble frequently with him and you are quickly silenced when he reaches back and shoves 3 long fingers in your dripping cunt. Your pussy tightens as his fingers continue to bully themselves deeper thrusting in time with his hips into your breasts. AHHH! SHIIIIIIIT TORU, F-FUCK! “No sweet girl, I mean the way you screamed just now.” Gojo says smugly taking advantage of your scream to bust ropes of his hot seed on your tongue.

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Nanami: Riding

Nanami loves to do things you like to do to make you happy. He even will sit through one of your trashy horror movies without complaint.

Although he might end up reading a novel or the paper after 15-20 minutes, he will never miss a chance to give you reassuring kisses to the temple or a rub on your lower back whenever you get scared.

However you can’t watch horror movies with him because you are actually the one always distracted by him.

The way his handsome face looks utterly uninterested in the movie other than an arched brow on occasion but still is still sitting here for you and even makes sure to take care of you is too sexy to you.

So sexy you slowly become less interested in whatever the hell you were watching and more needy for him to pay attention to you.

This always results with you bouncing in his lap midway through. “What about your monster movie Y/N?” Nanami questions you amused. His voice has an air teasing concern. Your mouth goes slack as drool and moans spill from your lips, you can’t form a reply. You just lean to bury your head into his neck wrapping your arms around him holding on. When you tire yourself like this, Nanami assists in you riding him as his hands grip your soft waist. He brings you up to his tip almost pulling out of you completely before he forcibly drives you further back down onto his dick. You bottom out on him every time your hips come down on his lap, you’re practically screaming at this point. “Nothing more monstrous than Daddy’s cock stretching this tight cunt full, isn't that right doll?” Nanami coos in your ear.

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Toji: Edging

Yeah you’ve just gotten to the point where you don’t even put on a movie to watch when Toji is over.

His attention span for it is zero as nothing scares his ass ever so the opening credits aren’t even over before he already has his hand down your pants.

Toji lazily plays with your clit and teases your pussy with his fingers while you try and fail miserably to ignore him enough to watch your movie.

You pouted at him as you really wanted to watch your favorite horror movie tonight!

However by the 20 minute mark you are now begging him to let you come.

“Nah, baby see this is the good part.” Toji says, smirking into the back of your neck. Toji has not a single fucking clue what’s happening in the movie he just wants to teach you a lesson. He sucks on the back of your neck hard enough to leave a mark, making you moan. However, you are still left unsatisfied. Just when you think the burning between your legs will consume you he resumes digging his thick fingers into your guts. Toji knows your insides so well he knows how your pussy feels the moment before your body will release sweet toe-curling-bliss and his hands come to a complete stop again. “Daddy, Puh-leaseee!” You beg with tears in your eyes as you lean your head back to pout at him. You grab the hand in your cunt to try to force him to move again to no avail. “Not a chance, brat. You wanted to watch this shitty ass movie so bad. So we are going to watch the entire fucking thing before I let you come Y/N.” "What are we even watching– " Toji grabs the remote and the overlay pops up. "Oh Alien? Yeah, you picked a long one this time slut, buckle up."

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Choso: Overstimulation

Choso’s edgy emo ass is more than happy to watch horror movies with you.

However due to his curse abilities, Choso is constantly pointing out the technical feasibility of the movie so much it ruins it for you.

Don't let it be a slasher movie as Choso is non-stop critiquing “That blood spray pattern isn’t realistic” and “Did you know you could lose up to 40% of your blood?”

You end up being so annoyed with your forensic encyclopedia boyfriend you grab his face to kiss him in order to stop his ranting.

Choso ends up repentant as the death painter comes to the realization he forgot himself again and ends up spoiling yet another scary movie for you.

Choso hates upsetting his princess so he always ends up trying to make it up to you. Truly, just shutting the hell up and watching the movie would be enough for you. Yet that wasn’t good enough repentance for Choso and as a result you ended up face down on the sofa while he ate you out from the back. A true munch to the core this man was a messy eater. Tongue, lips, nose all up in your cunt. Slurping, lapping, nibbling– Choso kept his face in your pussy gobbling up your juices like he hadn’t consumed any liquid in days. He once remarked your pussy tasted more refreshing than water. You would wonder when the man even took time for a breath if he didn’t have you squirting to the point of mind numbing overstimulation, your legs shaking and chest heaving. “Keep those hips up Y/N baby, I’m not done apologizing.” He slaps your ass and is so transfixed by how your pussy dribbles out a lil more squirt he does it again, returning his mouth to your cunt to suck out more fluids. “FuckFuck I- F-uck… I f-forgive you C-Choso damnit -OH!,” you babbled and came on his tongue again for the umpteenth time that night. "That's it baby, keep being messy on my face yeah? Let me show that nasty lil slit how sorry I am, 'kay?" Completely pussy drunk Choso sounded deranged. This man was going to completely dehydrate you before the night was over.

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Geto: Sadism/Darcryphilla

Geto is probably the easiest one to watch horror movies with by far. He actually is amused by them and how bad they all are.

He will let you lay reclined on him and run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly giving you a scalp massage.

The big problem here though is that your squeals and yelps of fear make his dick throb.

Even better if you get so scared there's tears that start falling. He wont be able to stop his hard dick from straining against the fabric of his pants.

Geto loves to hear you cry out so much that if the movie isn’t scary enough he had been so inclined on occasion to release a relatively harmless, yet gruesome looking, curse to pop up behind the TV. He would wait for a suspenseful part to really give you a fright and start the waterworks.

Although as much as he loves the sound of your cries there’s a sound he loves even more.

“F-Fuck, you hear her princess?” Geto is ruthless when he is pussydrunk and he makes you hold your legs wider for better access as he roughly splits open your cunt in a mating press. Your pussy is a gooey mess as you cream around him from what has to be the 5th time that night. In your own cockdrunk stupor you wonder how long he has been pumping into you and filling you up now. Is the movie over? But you can’t see anything as his long hair and dark robes dangle open around you. You also can’t hear anything except for the obscene squelch of fluids gushing out of your cunt. All you can do is hold your legs and take Geto’s assault on your body until he had his fill of you. “Sugu–” you sobbed in protest but he cut you off. “Shhh, Y/N quiet while she’s talking to me–” He reaches down grabbing your soaked and discarded panties before balling them up. Geto pushed them into your mouth, muffling your cries as thick tears seeped down your face. “Awe, baby I love you… but I only want to hear from her right now. Shit, this filthy pussy is a real scream queen.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Sukuna: Double Penetration/Cockwarming

Yeah he is straight up the worst to watch with.

He will most definitely ridicule you and make you feel like an idiot when you ask him to watch a scary movie of all things with you.

“Oh my ditzy lil’ slut wants to see something scary?” No, you remind him you do NOT want to find some random sorcerers just to see just how quickly and in how many different ways his Malevolent Shrine domain could kill someone.

If you pout enough though he eventually relent. On his terms.

Sukuna lets you know if you get what you want, he gets what he wants too.

What does Sukuna want? He wants you double stuffed and dumb on his cocks, of course. Your cunt and your ass are both stretched to their limits from his huge twin cocks in his True Form. Sukuna tells you mockingly long as you kept sitting nice ‘n pretty for him, he would watch the movie with you. “Hmmmrghhhh”, you moan as your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles. It’s hard to even breathe when you are this full of him. You feel as if his dicks are reaching up into your throat as you choke for air. Winded from just sitting on him, the gravity alone had you cockdrunk on him almost instantly as you felt his four hands everywhere along your body. You gasp out loud when you hear him laugh and the hardy vibrations from his chest travel straight into your pussy. You clench and cream around his cocks. Not even his huge cocks could plug you up enough to keep from dripping a big giant wet spot onto your sofa that he definitely wont be helping you clean up later. “HA! Brat, you see that fucking loser who cried ‘I’ll never leave you’ then his head flew off two seconds later? What a dumbfuck.” Scary movies were like comedies to The King of Curses. He slaps your thigh for emphasis. Sukuna is both equally entertained by how stupid the movies humans called 'horror' are as well as you trying to keep from blacking out on his cocks. An hour in, you were doing so well he smirked. “Brat!” Sukuna growled when you didn’t answer him. You were supposed to be watching the fucking movie. “Come on slut, pay attention" he taps your cheek (lighter than you expect) as you gurgle back in response, completely gone. "Don't cry so hard for me to watch next time brat if y'er gonna tap out like this just from sitting on some cocks.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: Reblog or comment and tell me which JJK man you'd watch with. Likes are appreciated as well!

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

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sunrizef1 · 8 months ago

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Milk and Sugar

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not edited, cursing maybe, the ex gf isn’t anyone specific don’t @ me

Summary: Max is tired of his persistent ex girlfriend and friends that are maybe a little too empathetic about his breakup. What better way to scare them off than getting a new girlfriend? But he doesn’t actually want a new relationship. Enter: you. The perfect (fake) new girlfriend.

Word Count: 9.6k

Authors Note: this fic was kicking my ass im gonna be so fr. It took forever and I just couldn’t write the ending for some reason. Hopefully now that this is up, I can do something else lmfao

You were just doing a favor for a friend.

Or that’s what you had told yourself when Max had originally asked you to go along with his stupid idea. You hadn’t even really wanted to agree, by the way. He had just needed your help so badly and that’s what friends are for, right?

So that’s how you’d ended up in his garage, Red Bull hat pulled tightly over your head as you watched his car sail around the track in Brazil, the season well under way.

You’d met Max a few years back. You’d moved into the apartment next to his, not even blinking as your eyes scanned over the future world champion, too focused on your dog trying his best to distract you from the heavy box in your hands.

“Apollo! Stop!” You sighed at the dog as he jumped at your legs, trying his hardest to knock the box full of dog food and treats out of your arms. The dog, not knowing English, didn’t listen, of course, continuing his assault on your calves.

The box tilts in your grasp, coming dangerously close to falling out of your arms. But suddenly, the weight is lifted away and Apollo seems to turn his attention to whatever had relieved you from your struggle, giving you the opportunity to pull the small dog into your grasp, trying your best to calm his rowdiness down.

Once you’ve gotten the dog to calm down a significant amount, you look up to see who’d saved you from hours of cleaning loose dog food off the floor during your first day in your new apartment. You’re met with bright blue eyes staring back at you, a concerned look on the strangers face.

You’re too worried about the pretty man in front of you to even worry about Apollo as he starts to nibble lightly on your jacket.

“Are you okay?” And then he speaks for the first time and you’re captivated. Not in a love-at-first-sight way, of course. More of a this-guy-might-be-perfect kind of way.

You nod, gently separating your dogs mouth off your hoodie string, petting his, most-likely, empty head warmly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. This little guy just really wanted that food, I guess.”

The stranger laughs, moving the box in his arms to rest against his hip, “I’m more of a cat person, anyway.”

You fake a wince, shaking your head with a frown, “Ahh, guess we can’t be friends then, mysterious stranger. Im a dog person all the way.”

He laughs again, grinning warmly, “Any way I could help you with this? Can’t imagine it’s easy moving in with a dog running around.”

Your eyes widen at his words, your hand fumbling to fish the key to your new apartment out of your pocket, “Only if you’re free! I wouldn’t want to bother my new neighbor on my first day.”

Your neighbor shakes his head, light brown hair falling down on his forehead, “It’s no big deal, I’m surprisingly free today.”

You smile, pushing the door to your apartment open, setting Apollo down as you enter. The dog immediately starts to scope out the area, bounding up and down the halls, his collar jangling loudly as he does. You hear the man enter behind you, watching as he walks over and places the box of dog food on the counter in the kitchen.

“Usually I learn a man’s name before I invite him into my apartment,” you smirk, laughing as a blush coats your neighbors face. He takes the few steps back over to close the gap between you, sticking out a calloused hand toward you.

“I’m Max.”

You smile, repeating his name before reciting your own, clasping your hand in his much rougher one, tilting your head up at him as you shake, letting go after a few moments.

“It’s nice to meet you max,” you say, smiling as you see Max’s face light up happily, “How inclined would you be to helping me get the rest of my boxes?”

Max laughs as he sees the sweet grin on your face, shaking his head as he moves toward the door, “I’d love to help, y/n. Can’t have my new favorite neighbor moving in alone, can I?”

Your face splits into a grin as you follow him toward the exit, turning to make sure Apollo was comfortably inside the apartment so he wouldn’t try and run away before closing the door behind you.

Max did help you that day, the moving in process going substantially quicker with the help of the athlete. He even invited you over to his place for dinner, explaining that it’d be too much of a hassle for you to make dinner after moving in all day. You didn’t bring up the fact he’d been moving all day as well, simply following him next door instead.

That had been three years ago and you’d been friends ever since. It was a casual friendship, more moved by the proximity than anything else.

He’d had to explain f1 to you, you being completely unfamiliar with the sport despite having moved to Monaco, probably the place with the most connection to it. Now, you’d casually watch his races as you worked or ate dinner, not entirely sure what was going on but supporting your friend anyway.

He’d also eventually asked you to watch his cats for him, Jimmy and Sassy being surprisingly friendly with your puppy. Max had been scared about introducing them, prefacing with many statements about how much the cats hated dogs and that it really wouldnt be a problem if you couldn’t watch them if they hated each other.

All that talk went out the window when the first thing the pets did when they met each other was take a nap.

It was January when it happened. You had been sitting calmly in your apartment, watching Bridgerton and eating pasta, your work computer abandoned to the side of the couch. You had a blanket pulled over your lap, a hot mug of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Rare snow fell softly outside your window, albeit not very much snow but snow nonetheless.

You were very content.

This, of course, all came crashing down when you heard the sound of your apartment door banging open, heavy footsteps signaling the arrival of your neighbor. You’d given him a key for emergencies, although you couldn’t possibly imagine what could warrant an emergency at this time.

You roll your eyes as you hear him approach, setting your pasta down on the table and grabbing the remote to pause your show, turning as Max throws himself down on the couch next to you.

“Hello, Max. Can I help you?” You sigh, trying to force a smile onto your face. Max seems to catch your discontent and grimaces, wincing away slightly.

“Bad time?”

You let out a breath, not able to stay mad at the Dutch man for very long, “Maybe a little, but it’s fine, really. Did you need something?”

Max nods, sitting up straighter, “I may or may not have a formal request. Neighbor to neighbor.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his response, noting his slightly nervous behavior, “Okay?”

He takes a deep breath before speaking, his eyes trailing over toward where your tv was currently paused, “You know how I just went through that breakup, right?”

You hum, all too familiar with the aforementioned breakup, having had Max barge into your apartment for comfort food and movie marathons more than a few nights in the wake of his, now ex, girlfriends departure.

“Well,” Max starts and you can sense the hesitation in his tone but considering he had interrupted your night, you opted to let him flounder, “It’s been weird on the grid since then.”

“Okay,” you hum, eyes glancing over his face and catching the way he grimaces.

“Ever since the break-up, all the guys have been looking at me like I’m a child, you know? Like I might fall apart any second. Even though I’m completely fine!”

You stare, knowing more than anyone else, that he wasn’t very fine for a while, although he’d miraculously recovered over the past few months. You also stared in hopes he’d soon get to the point of the conversation.

“They also keep trying to set me up with their friends as if I need a rebound when I would really rather stay single,” Max groans, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. Your furrow your eyebrows, wondering where this could be going.

Max glances up, eyes avoiding yours at all costs, “I was wondering if you could, maybe..”

Max trails off, wincing slightly. You stare straight ahead at him blankly, waiting for him to finish his request. He does eventually mumble something under his breath and you lean forward, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry?”

Max grumbles, annoyed and you roll your eyes at the attitude of the man disrupting your own night.

“Could you pretend to be my girlfriend for a while?” Max rushes out, hands carding through his hair nervously, “Just long enough for the guys to leave me alone, you don’t even have to do anything, maybe just come to Brazil and Monaco-“

Max continues to ramble on for a few seconds, words seeming to fall out of his mouth unceremoniously before he’s cut off by you interrupting him.

“Max!” You raise your voice slightly in an attempt to talk to over him. Max freezes, looking at your face for the first time since he’s crashed through your front door, “I’ll do it.”

He stares at you blankly for a few moments, trying to process your words, “Really?”

You shrug, teeth digging into your lip as you turn your head toward the large window across the room that overlooked the darkened city of Monte Carlo, “Why not? You’re my friend. Plus I work remotely and who doesn’t want to travel around the world to all those different cities?”

Max’s face lights up at your response, his lips forming a huge grin. He rolls over into a lying position, practically star-fishing on your couch, “Thank you so much! I owe you one.”

You hum, fighting the smile on your lips as you watch him close his eyes calmly. You slip up from the couch quietly, padding over to the kitchen to grab something.

“Where are you going? Did I scare you off already?” You hear Max call as you walk away. As you walk back over, his eyes are still closed though, signaling that he didn’t really think he’d scared you off.

He does open his eyes as you set the bowl of leftover pasta and a fork on his chest before grabbing your own and sitting down, grabbing the remote to press play. He glances over as you settle into the couch and move your blanket over your lap before he sits up. You take a bite of your pasta as you continue to watch your show. Max takes a second but he eventually digs in as well, sitting up in order to grasp the bowl better.

Even after the pastas finished, you both sit back on the couch in order to finish the show. You glance over at Max, his eyes still locked onto the screen.

What had you gotten yourself into?

————

“Are you ready?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you sit in the passengers seat of Max’s car, the hoards outside having no idea what was waiting for them inside. You slide your sunglasses onto your nose, hoping they’d hide at least a little bit of the anxiety flowing through you.

You nod, turning your head toward Max in the drivers seat, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Max hums, not entirely convinced but also aware he had no other option but to believe you considering he’s the one who’d asked you to do this. He opens his door, stepping out and sliding his own sunglasses on. You watch as he walks around the front of the car before stopping in front of your door and pulling it open. You pause for a moment but eventually step out, trying not to wince as the bright sun hits you.

You immediately step into his path, falling into stride next to him as you both walk toward the entrance. You hear the car lock behind you and watch Max pocket the keys.

The bright Miami sun beats down on your skin, causing you to wish you’d opted for a thinner shirt. Max had originally proposed for your first race to be Monaco but you had decided it was better to appear earlier than later for his sake. Plus, you’d always enjoyed Miami and were up for the idea of traveling there. You’d also originally planned to buy your own plane tickets but Max was quick to shut that one down.

As you both approached the turnstiles, Max pulls his lanyard out of his pocket. You don’t even notice as he pulls you inside the paddock, too busy trying not to notice the cameras surrounding you. Flashes come from all around you, the incessant clicks echoing through your head.

You finally do notice that Max hasn’t let go of your hand after he pulled you into the paddock. You grasp his hand a little tighter and he pulls you closer into his side as a response. When heat starts to rise to your face, you decide to blame it on the Miami sun.

As you both walk toward the Red Bull hospitality, heads turn to watch you walk by. You can feel people’s eyes trailing after you, locked on your unfamiliar form. Everything new in the paddock very quickly became a spectacle. Especially when it involved the current world champion.

You’re sure you’ll see pictures of yourself splashed all across the internet when you wake up in Max’s hotel room the next day. You’re sure your mom will send you whatever article they’ll attach your name to, no doubt hounding you for information about your new celebrity “boyfriend”.

You’d been curled up in Max’s hotel room the whole weekend, occasionally dipping out to get food with him between events. He’d wanted you to come to the track since Thursday but you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to step out as “Max Verstappens new girlfriend” until you’d woken up Sunday morning.

You’d woken up before Max, somehow. As you laid in your plush hotel room bed, you could hear Max’s soft breathing from the other bed filtering through the silence of the morning. Just outside the window, the city of Miami was waking up. At least, the early birds were.

You and Max had slept in the same room enough over the years, Max randomly crashing at your place pretty often, that when he suggested you getting a different room, you’d immediately turned him down. You were telling yourself it was just because it was nice to have the comfort of a friend but something deep down knew that that wasn’t the only reason.

You let the only sounds be his breathing and the light hum of the air on unit for a few more minutes while you woke up. You slid out of the bed as silently as possible, your feet padding quietly against the carpeted floor. You pull the door open to the balcony slowly, stepping out before closing it behind you. The sun is still pretty low in the sky but it still makes you flinch as it seeps into your eyes.

You sink into one of the two chairs out on the balcony, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top, letting your thoughts run wild.

You watch Miami move below you, the sun slowly shining down brighter and brighter, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

You weren’t entirely sure why you’d agreed to this idea so quickly. With every day that passed, you wished more and more that you hadn’t. Doubt seeped through you with every second you watched Max from the hotel television. He was just so good at his job and such a cool, wonderful person and athlete. How could you keep up with him? The press would be insistent and non-stop invasive. Fans would, no doubt, dogpile on you as well, both warning to know everything about you as well as rip you apart. You start to wonder if there was a single positive of this for you.

The door slides open behind you and you can hear Max moving onto the balcony beside you. You don’t glance over, only moving your gaze away from the skyline as a mug is held in front of your face. You glance down at it, spotting the coffee inside before you grasp the mug out of his hands gently. The ceramic warms your hands, the steam from the liquid splaying across your face.

“There was only those little creamer pods,” Max hums as he takes a sip of his own mug, leaning against the bannister in front of you, “Hope that’s okay.”

You chew at your lip, taking a sip of your own mug, humming lightly as your gaze locks on his back, “That’s fine, thanks.”

You’d usually take your coffee with milk and a spoonful of sugar but you’d had enough gas station or hotel room coffee that you’d be able to survive with just the creamer pods.

You watch Max’s side profile as he stares out at the city, the sun bouncing off the edges and planes of his face and perfectly lighting up his eyes. You bask in quiet that settles between you, sipping at your coffee periodically. You don’t quickly forget the kindness of his gesture. Actually, the action stays in your head for longer than it probably should, mind running wild as you think about his motives.

You dismiss it, though, not wanting to linger on something that probably meant nothing.

“You coming to the race today?” Max turns around to face you, his back leaning against the rail he’d just been looking out over.

Your eyes trace him as he turns, evaluating his early morning form. As you look at this man, your friend, you think about the coffee in your hands. You think about the times he’d dogsat Apollo despite hating dogs, the days he’d come over just to keep you company when you were homesick, when he’d attempted to cook you soup when you’d been sick despite his complete inability to cook soup, you even think back to the first day you’d met when he’d helped you move in despite having known you for all of thirty seconds.

As all those memories passed through your mind, you suddenly remember why you’d agreed to do this in the first place.

“Yeah, I am,” you reply, taking a long sip of your coffee and hiding your grin as one of his own makes its way onto his lips.

————

That had been earlier that morning and know you were sat in Red Bull, watching as Max’s car passes the finish line in second. You’d been biting your nails the whole time, worry seeping through you. You weren’t the biggest formula 1 nerd but Max had forced you to watch enough old races for you to get what was going on. You’d even started watching his races when he was gone, something that had taken you months to admit.

Because of Max’s insistence, you knew enough to grimace as the safety car came out. You were right to grimace, of course, as Lando was quick to pass your friend, taking the lead and the win. Max, for what it’s worth, didn’t seem too angry about the result. You were aware of Landos lack of wins, seeing why his winning would make everyone happy, even the losers. Not that you were too happy, you’d only ever and only ever would cheer for Max, even if Lando was deserving of a win of his own.

Max doesn’t get asked about you during interviews. At least, not directly. He gets asked how life had been and he answers with a vague answer about love and how great life has been. You know he’s talking out of his ass but you’re grinning anyway, not able to hold back you mind from thinking about a world where everything he was saying was true.

“Landos gonna have a big celebration,” Max starts as he gets back to you after the podium, walking you both back toward his room so he can change, “He’ll probably be awake for the next 72 hours.”

You smile lightly, resting a tired head against his sweaty shoulder, “Good for him, seems like he really deserves it.”

Max nods with a pleasant look on his face, “Yeah, I’m not even that mad about losing. Nothing I could’ve done really. Im just glad he got his win.”

You nod, taking a breath in order to hold back the yawn threatening to leave your mouth, “You should go to his party, I’ll just go grab some dinner and head back to get some sleep.”

You both stop as you reach his room, Max facing you as he leans back against the door to open it. You notice the deep furrow in his eyebrows as he locks eyes with you, “What are you talking about?”

You furrow your own eyebrows as a response, tilting your head to the side, “You should go celebrate with your friend? Go have fun, Max!”

He shakes his head as he enters the room, quickly gathering his things to go take a quick shower, “Why would I celebrate a loss with a coworker when I can get some quality time with a friend instead? I’d rather celebrate a win with you instead of a loss without you. Trust me, you’ll be there to see me win.”

You’re already at a loss for words at his response but your rendered speechless as Max pulls his fireproofs off, tossing the shirt to the side passively. He turns away from you and you watch his muscles ripple under his skin, your face hearing greatly. His arms flex as he reaches for something and you have to bite your lip to keep your mouth closed. Your eyes are wide as he turns to glance over his shoulder at you, “That okay?”

At the risk of sounding like an idiot if you attempt to respond with words, you simply nod, eyes moving toward the floor. You don’t notice the smirk that forms on his lips as he catches your stare.

“I’m gonna shower and then we can leave,” he calls out over his shoulder as he walks into his bathroom. Your eyes are still locked onto the floor. You hear the sound of water pattering against the floor just after the door shuts.

You take a large sip of your water bottle, trying to wet your drying throat and keep the heat in your face at bay. You feel like you might be going crazy, the image of Max’s shirtless back etched into your mind.

Jesus Christ.

————

“What do you wanna watch?” Max mumbles through a mouth full of pizza, his hand coming up to covering it as he speaks.

You shrug, “I don’t know.”

Max shrugs as well, grabbing the remote off the nightstand and passively flickering through the channels as he swallows his bite of pizza, “Come get some food.”

He gestures toward the box of pizza on the edge of his bed with the remote, glancing toward you sitting in your own bed, watching him instead of the tv. You slide off the bed, taking the few steps it takes to get to his own and gently settling on the side he wasn’t currently sitting on.

Max watches you move, humming as you grasp a piece from the pizza box before he turns his attention back to the screen. You don’t notice as he settles on a movie, too busy trying not to absolutely scarf down the food in your hand.

Your eyes do leave the slice to glance over at Max, legs outstretched with his back firmly against the headboard. He’s wearing a Red Bull hoodie, even managing to wear team merch in his own bedroom. He’s also got some old basketball shorts, a faded logo sitting on the upper thigh that, no matter how much you try, you can’t understand.

You look away when you hear the familiar sound of Lightning McQueen echoing out of the television speakers. You quickly catch sight of the Italian formula car, deducing that Max has chosen Cars 2, of all movies.

You try your best not to laugh but a giggle escapes you anyway, causing you to bury your head in your shoulder to try and hide your grin.

“What?” Max asks you and you look forward again, eyes locked onto the movie, “What’s so funny?”

Your head turns toward the driver who’s grin is now matching your own, “You chose probably the only movie on here that uses the words “Grand Prix” can’t even get away from racing in your hotel room.”

He feigns offense for a few moments before reaching forward to grab another piece of pizza and sliding down into more of a lying position, “It’s a good movie.”

You both turn to the screen for a few moments but the second Lewis Hamilton’s voice rings out in the silence, you laugh loudly, Max groaning beside you.

You quickly dissolve into giggles, trying your hardest to reign it in but when you look over and see the amused frown on Max’s face, you’re right back into it again, Max laughing in response.

You both do eventually settle down, watching the movie and eating your food together. Even after the pizza box is empty and max moves to set it on the table, you don’t move from your spot, using the reasoning that it’s just easier to see the screen from his bed.

You try not to notice the proximity between you. You’d been holding hands all day and you’d pressed several kisses to his cheeks and forehead, being near him shouldn’t bother you. But when you shift slightly closer just to get more comfortable and Max’s arm falls down over your shoulder, you freeze, keeping as still as you can.

He doesn’t move his arm through the rest of the movie. Not that you’d know, considering you drift off with about half an hour to go. But Max doesn’t notice that either, considering how he fell asleep just after.

You wake up before him again the next morning, don’t the same thing you’d done the day before and walking out to the balcony. Max does the same thing he did as well, walking out with two mugs grasped gently in his grip.

When you take the mug from him, you try not to think about the fact you’d woken up limbs tangled with his and your face pressed into his chest.

————

The São Paulo Grand Prix.

It had been 6 months of this charade with Max. That’s right, you’d managed to suffer through 6 whole months of pretending to be his girlfriend. There’s been countless headlines from various news sites, trying their best to figure out every single detail about your life and relationship with Max.

The only thing keeping your mind together was the root of the problem himself and your prolonged roommate, Max.

He was actually really lovely. Every time you suggested a different room for his sake, you’d end up right where you were the week before, in a bed across from his. You’d also kept the same morning routine every day, waking up before Max and sitting out on the balcony until he brought coffee out for both of you.

He’d eventually gotten to a point where he sat in the chair next to you as opposed to standing up and leaning against the railing. There was still little conversation, though, you both enjoying the silence of an early morning instead.

This specific morning, you were watching the city of São Paulo move along below you. Goosebumps raised slightly as the wind-chilled November air nipped at the skin on your arms. The sun hadn’t completely rose yet and the previous nights rain had left the air colder than it should’ve been. You found yourself rubbing your hands over your arms and wishing you’d worn something other than a t-shirt.

The door slides open behind you and you take the mug as it’s placed in your eye line, grateful for the heat of the mug to warm up your cold hands. You lower your face toward the mug, letting the steam warm up your wind-chilled skin. You go to take a sip but it burns at your lips when you tilt the mug, causing you to set it down on the small table in order for it to cool for a few moments.

After you set it down, something lands in your lap. You look down, holding the item up and quickly recognizing it as one of Max’s Red Bull hoodies. You glance over at him but he’s still looking out over the city below, sipping passively at his mug of black coffee.

You look back down at the item of clothing, glancing between it and the owner for a few seconds before deciding to slip it on, your cold skin winning out over any reasonable thought that would tell you not to wear it.

The hoodies too big for you and it smells like Max but you don’t really seem to mind either of those things. Especially as your skin heats as the fabric passes over it.

Once you’ve got the hoodie on, you pick up your coffee again, blowing on it slightly to cool it down. You raise the cup to your lips, letting the warm liquid flow into your mouth.

You hum at the taste, quickly noticing that it tastes different than usual. You furrow your eyebrows, taking another sip. The oh-so wonderful taste that you’d missed so dearly over the past 6 months takes over your tastebuds. The taste of real milk and sugar.

You hum pleasantly, grasping the cup tightly. You glance over toward the man who’d handed you the drink, “Is this milk and sugar?”

Max glances toward you for a split-second before he looks back over the city, taking a sip of his own coffee, “Yeah, that’s how you like it, right? You always drink it like that back home.”

You ignore the jolt in your stomach when Max refers to the Monaco apartments as a shared home. You bite your lip with an affirmative hum, “Where’d you get milk and sugar?”

“Couldn’t sleep last night, went for a walk. There’s a corner store down the block and I picked some up,” Max says it casually, like it’s not the most considerate anyone had been of you, maybe ever.

You stare at him for a few moments, trying to ignore the warm feeling in your chest as you imagine him thinking about you enough to buy coffee ingredients the way you liked them.

As you sat outside, in his hoodie, sipping on the coffee he had made and handed to you, you finally accept what you’d been trying to deny for six months, if not longer.

You were in love with Max Verstappen.

You longed for the domesticity that was so present on mornings like these. You wanted to live this life with him all the time. You didn’t just want to fall asleep beside him after a race but you wanted to be able to press your lips against his when he won instead of the light touches you’d flutter against his cheek. You wanted to wear his hoodies all the time, not just when you were cold and forgot one of your own. You wanted to stop pretending in front of his friends. You wanted the hushed whispers to be sweet nothings instead of scheming and planning.

You wanted this life with him. All the time.

“Max-” you start but you’re quickly cut off by Max as he speaks instead.

“My ex is going to be at this race,” he states and you close your mouth, deflating slightly as you look away, “Just wanted to prepare you in case we run into her. You could also, um, probably stop coming once you scare her off.”

You nod meekly, taking a sip of your coffee. What had once been your idea of a sanctuary with the silence of the morning is now too quiet, allowing your thoughts to be the only noise in your head, images of Max’s ex rolling around aimlessly.

You stand up quickly, taking rushed steps back into the room. You down the last sips of your coffee and slide it onto the table, moving hurriedly around the room to gather your things for a shower. You vaguely notice Max walking back into the room with a confused look but you don’t even look up as you rush into the bathroom, “I’m taking a shower.”

“Okay?” Max says as you close the door behind you. You don’t notice the frown on his face as he disappears from view.

You’re too busy throwing off his hoodie and turning the shower to practically scalding heat, trying your hardest to rid yourself of thoughts about a life with Max, thoughts of his ex-girlfriend or thoughts about the stupid coffee he’d handed you and how stupid you were to be reading so much into it.

For a moment there, you’d thought that Max was enjoying this as much as you were. But his words were quick to remind you that you were only there to do a favour for him. He is only there to get his friends and his ex off his back. After that, you were free to go. It even vaguely sounded like Max didn’t want you to come back around the next weekend.

Why else would he have said that? Why else would he have suggested you stop coming? Especially just after talking about his ex. It was a stark reminder that you were only a tool for him to mess with his ex. She was the one he’d loved, you were just a girl he knew.

You stay under the scalding water long enough for the mirrors to fog and your fingertips to prune. Your cuticles sting from where the hot water had made its way into the raw skin, the cuts still fresh from where you’d been anxiously picking at them.

You only pull yourself from the water when you start to sway from the heat, your head going light and an ache echoing through your skull.

————

A few hours later, you’re by Max’s side again, although there’s a slightly larger distance between you than usual.

That would change soon, no doubt, when Max spotted his ex, pulling you close to attempt to show his devotion to your fake relationship.

But for now, you're an arms-length away, hoping that pushing him away would also push away your own feelings.

Max can't grasp even an idea as to why you were acting like this. Did you really want this to be over that badly? He knew he'd mentioned the idea of your… situation ending but he didn't think you'd be this eager to get away from him.

At the first camera flash, you take a step closer to Max, knowing how even the smallest hint of discontent between you would be twisted for headlines and it would end with your concerned mother calling you fifty times to check on your relationship after seeing an article on Facebook.

So you step closer, reaching over to intertwine your hands. Max doesn't resist and you try not to read into the gentle squeeze he replies with.

Brazils nice. Or at least, you assume. You'd been too distracted to take much notice. But you do notice the fans yelling from all around. Lively crowds sway and shout in the distance, hues of blue and black and orange all represented amongst the groups.

Max leads you through the paddock, determination clear in his steps. It was most likely just his own determination not to talk to anyone, especially a certain ex-girlfriend.

You both get to Red Bull without an unwanted interaction and the second you're out of the public eye, you're dropping his hand, none the wiser to the confused look on the driver's face.

The tension's palpable in his small room. Awkward conversation flows, your words biting and curt. Neither of you wants to address the obvious undertones your words contain. One of hostility and unshared secrets. But you manage to survive until Max has to leave to get ready for the race and you follow just a few minutes later, making your way to watch said race.

The race is fine. Max wins, but you were never in doubt about that. He was starting from pole, it'd be pretty hard for him to lose. Lando finished just a few seconds behind him, having closed the gap a bit after getting past George.

As the team starts to leave to go greet Max, Christian Horner pulls you along, saying something about Max wanting you at the barrier after the race. You're sure its just so he can put on a show for his ex.

But you follow along anyway, trying not to stumble in your heels as Christian walks along a lot faster than you'd want to.

You pass through other teams and friends and guests or the drivers, waving slightly at people you’d gotten to know over the past six months. The thought of not seeing any of these people again after you and Max faked a breakup made your stomach hurt but you ignore it, trying to tell yourself it was for the better.

When Christian reaches the team, he guides you both through the crowd, smiling politely at the engineers as he slides by.

It seems you both reach the barrier just in time, as Max is parking when you come to a stop. You watch as he pulls himself out of the car, cheering a bit to the fans around as he stands atop it. When he pulls off his helmet and balaclava, you try your hardest not to smile at the pure joy on his face.

He glances over his shoulder at something you can't see before he turns and catches your eye, quickly moving in your direction. Before you can even say a word, he's set his helmet down and wrapped both his hands around the sides of your face, pulling it toward his own. His lips are warm, the heat of the race still emanating off of him. You dismiss the sweat in his hair as you wrap a hand softly around the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his locks. Your other hand rests on the side of his face, your thumb tracing the marks his helmet had left around his eyes.

You pull away first, glancing up into his eyes with a gentle smile, “Good job, you did amazing Max.”

His face heats and he glances away with a light chuckle, “Thank you, baby. I'm glad you're here.”

You wish he'd stop calling you that. At least for the sake of your heart jumping in your chest every time he does.

He looks away but your eyes are still firmly locked on the side of his face, tracing the familiar path around his features that they'd forged over the past six months. The same path they took every morning when you watched him look out over whatever city you were in that weekend. The same path they took when he fell asleep first during a movie in hopes of memorizing every detail before you slunk back into your own bed to fall asleep, the image of his face still etched into your mind.

But as you stare up at Max, trying to memorize the puzzle pieces of his face while he talks to Christian, you realize how futile of an endeavour it is. Not matter how hard you try, you'll never get the slope of his nose just right in your memories. You'll never get the right shade of turquoise for his eyes. The sandy-dark-blond of his hair will fade away until it was nothing in your mind but the shade of your coffee in the morning instead of the colour of his hair.

Maybe you should find a different apartment. Surely, Monaco had a different apartment complex that was far enough away from Max to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts of him that constantly plagued your love-adled brain.

Throughout all of that, you’d almost forgotten you were in love with him.

But when Max turns back to you, a glint in his eyes and a bright smile gracing his lips, you're suddenly all too aware of that fact.

“I’ll see you in a minute, yeah?”

You nod, smile slowly drifting as he walks away to get weighed and do all the usual post-race theatrics.

Christian pats his hand on your shoulder firmly, smiling as you turn around, “Let’s get to the podium, kid.”

You let Christian lead you away, yet again making his way through the crowd to get you both to the front.

The podium celebration is cute, Max’s happiness practically contagious. Lando and George are enthralled as well, the Brits both happy to back on the podium once again.

But when Max leans over to spray the champagne on the team, you put your hands over your face as Christian laughs beside you, both of you trying to avoid the sticky liquid as much as possible.

You peel away from the crowd after Max walks off, trying to find your way to wherever Max had gone.

As you'd left, you'd wandered away from Christian, who knew the paddock much better than you did. This was your first time here and you found yourself looking around for any sign of the Red Bull driver or, at least, a familiar face who could point you in the right direction.

It takes you a few minutes to gain your bearings but when you hear the familiar sound of Max’s voice, you go that direction, turning a corner to see his face.

And you do see him, post-race glow and all. But it's not just him you find. Standing entirely too close to him with her hand resting on his shoulder, is Max’s ex-girlfriend. She's smiling warmly, nodding animatedly at whatever it is Max is saying. Which, from constantly talking to him, you know is not worth the reaction she's giving him.

He's glancing around, clearly not comfortable with the situation. You huff, looking around before conceding and walking over to the pair. Were you maybe taking your time a little bit? Yeah, but you really didn't want to do this.

You roll your eyes when you catch Max’s eye and a relieved look rolls over his face, “Hey, baby.”

Max uses your arrival as an excuse to take a step back, swinging his arm around your shoulder. He's still covered in champagne and sweat but you ignore it, “Hey, Max.”

You finally glance up to meet the eye of the woman in front of you, her eyes narrowed as she looks between you, “Oh my god, hi! You must be Max’s ex!”

She rolls her eyes before smiling tightly with a nod of her head, “Yeah, I am. You must be his new girlfriend.”

You hum affirmatively, smiling wide as you glance over to the man beside you, “I am, yeah. He's just so perfect. We’re so happy together!”

She narrows her eyes again, glancing you up and down before her eyes stop on your face. You roll your head to the side to rest your temple on his shoulder, resting one of your hands against his chest.

“Well, I’m happy you moved on, Max,” She says, turning her entire attention to the man in question, “You seem… perfect together.”

Max gleams, nodding as he leans in to kiss your cheek, “Yeah, I’m really happy.”

His ex chews on her bottom lip for a few moments before huffing and moving away, turning to shout over her shoulder as she walks away, “Have a great life, Max!”

“Thanks, I guess!” Max replies, laughing as soon as the woman is out of earshot. He pulls away from your side, turning to fully face you.

“Thank you!” Max cheers, grasping your shoulders with his hands, “Did you see her face? She was so pissed that I'd moved on.”

You hum, letting him be happy by himself while you stood quietly, “Yeah, you're welcome.”

You peel away from Max, turning to go back to the car park so you can leave. You don't say anything to Max before you walk away, leaving him to jog to catch up to you.

“You okay?” He asks once he's by your side again. You glance over, catching the concerned look on his face.

“Yeah,” you nod curtly, looking back ahead, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

He doesn't seem convinced but he leaves it be, turning away as well.

He pretends not to notice when you coincidentally step away after he tries to grab your hand.

While Max debriefs, you text one of your friends to ask if you could stay with her for a few days when you got back to Monaco. After this fake relationship was over, you needed to get away from Max for a while just to try and push away the growing feelings you have for the Dutch man.

And with the departure of Max’s ex, you'd served your purpose and you could finally get out of Max’s life and give him the solitude he so longed for.

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, the only noise being the sound of your nails tapping against the screen of your phone. Max glances over periodically but you eventually set your phone down, choosing to stare out the window as the dark streets of Brazil pass by quickly.

When you get back to the hotel, you open the car door before Max can get it for you like he usually does. He sends you another glance, trailing passively behind as you walk in front of him. You both pass through the lobby and the elevator, your steps determined and much quicker than Max really wanted to be walking.

He's still riding the high of his win and the defeat of his ex-girlfriend but you're in your own mind, too sick to your stomach to be happy for him.

You pull out the spare room key when you arrive at the room, pressing it against the sensor before shoving the door open roughly, letting it fall against Max behind you who catches it.

You toss the key on the table by the door and set your phone down beside it. You still don't turn around as you throw the jacket he had let you borrow down on his bed.

"What is your problem?" You hear Max’s voice ring out in the otherwise quiet room. Annoyance paints his words, causing you to pause for a split-second.

"I don't have a problem." You say, cringing when you catch how much of a lie it sounds. You move on, though, pulling your suitcase out from under the bed and unzipping it.

Max scoffs, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, "Are you sure? Because it really feels like you do."

"It's nothing, Max." You reply sharply, walking into the attached bathroom, grateful to get away from his gaze for a second.

You come back out, your toiletry bag in hand. You set it down in your suitcase and stand up, walking over to the closet and pulling your clothes off the rack. The sound of the hangers hitting together echoes through your head, only contributing to the headache that had been growing since your revelation that morning.

Max finally catches onto what you're doing and speaks, his voice almost panicked, "What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"What, already? Why?" You try not to be swayed by the hurt in his voice, turning around and walking past him to set your clothes down in your case.

He follows you over, stepping closer as you stand up. You try and step past him but he puts his arm out, stopping you in your tracks. You concede with a sigh, finally looking him in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter, Max.”

"But it does! What's wrong?" You finally step past him, on your way to go gather the rest of your things but his question makes you turn your head as you walk away.

"Max! It doesn't matter!" You immediately regret how loud your voice is but this wasn't exactly the time to be thinking about the people next door.

Max shakes his head, following you as you walk toward the doot in order to grab your shoes, "No, no, no. You've been like this all day and I can't think of a reason why. Do you really want to get away from me that badly?"

Your face twists, causing you to shake your head as you walk away, praying he wont follow you this time, "No, Max, that's not-"

He doesn't completely follow you but he does step a bit closer, shaking his head with a loud groan, "Then enlighten me! What could possibly happened in the past day that's making you act like this? Why are you leaving? Why won't you tell me? I thought we were supposed to be in this together! Why are you-"

"Because I'm in love with you, Max!" You shout, finally turning to face him as you say it, making eye contact with him for the first time since you'd walked in.

Silence falls between you and you toss your shoes down, covering your face with one of your hands. For a second, you think that Max might never respond, your stomach turning at the thought.

How hard could it be to find a different apartment in Monaco?

"What?" Max’s voice is soft and you look back to him, trying to will your frustrated tears not to fall.

"I'm in love with you! I fell in love with you and I know you don't feel the same. You only wanted me to do this to placate your friends and scare away your ex and now im getting out of your hair. I'm leaving you alone like you wanted in the first place,” Tears finally drip down your face and you don't bother to wipe them away, knowing there was only more where they came from. You look away as you explain, eyes locked onto the carpet beneath you, not wanting to face your embarrassment head-on.

"What are you talking about?" At Max’s purely confused tone, you look back to his face, teeth digging sharply into your bottom lip.

His face is soft, confusion etched into the furrow between his brows. Your stomach flips and you swallow, trying to rebuild the confidence you’d had at the start of your outburst.

The hotel room suddenly feels too cold, the air causing you to rub your hands over your shoulders in order to suppress the goosebumps that had started to rise. When you do speak again, your voice is soft, volume just above a whisper.

"This morning. You said I could stop coming after this race. And I did my job, I scared away your ex. You don't need me,” you trail off at the end of your statement, your voice breaking slightly as you shake your head, tears streaming out of your closed eyes and down your cheeks.

You expect Max to agree, to send you away, to end your friendship out of pure embarrassment after your decleration.

But he doesn't.

His voice is soft, just as yours was. His words are hushed but the emotion behind them seeps through every single word.

"I do, though. I do need you."

You look up, eyes widening at his statement. You can do nothing but stare as he steps closer, his hands grasping the sides of your face. Your own hands reach up to hold his wrists, just wanting to hold him someway.

He raises an eyebrow gently, quirking his head to ask for silent permission. You nod and its only a split-second before he's leaning down, pressing his lips against yours.

His hands cradle the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, his kiss causing your brain to practically melt. You mold together, leaning as close to him as you can as your hold conveys months and months of pent-up and hidden emotions.

As he pulls away, your lips want to chase his but you hold back, your eyes flickering open as he leans his forehead against yours. Neither of your speak for a few moments, silence settling between the two of you ask you bask in the adoration between you.

Max’s hand drifts back to your jaw, his thumb drifting across your cheekbone passively. You see his eyes look up and you glance up as well, catching his sparkling gaze in yours.

“I love you,” the words tumble out of his mouth, falling smoothly out of the lips you oh-so wished he would press against your own once again, “I'm in love with you. I fell for you during this whole thing, everything about you.”

You go to respond but he cuts you off, shaking his head lightly.

“I only told you that you could stop coming because I thought you'd grown tired of all this,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, leaning slightly into your hand that had drifted into his hair, “But I'm kind of glad I did.”

You furrow your eyebrows, quirking your head. Max pauses, allowing you the chance to admire every feature of his face, turning his freckles into constellations that you'd willingly stargaze in for hours. His hair is tousled from where your fingers had tangled in it and his lips are red from being pressed against yours. His teeth dig into said lip as he thinks before responding. You'd honestly be fine if he never finished his thought and you got to just look at him forever.

But he does finish his thought, the look in his eyes making your heart jump, "Because I don't want to pretend anymore."

You wait a moment, giving him the chance to take it back in case this was a joke, in case he didn't really mean it. But he doesn't take it back, he doesn't laugh.

And so you nod, "I want to do this with you for real, Max. I don't want to lie to anyone anymore, I want to celebrate with you after a race, not because people expect me to, but because I love you."

Max lights up, his face splitting into a wide grin at your words. Before you can react, his arms are around you and your feet are lifted off the ground as Max basically throws you onto the bed beside you.

Your laugh echoes through the hotel room, punctuated by the sound of Max flopping down next to you. You continue to giggle, glancing down to meet Max’s eyes, a special glint shining through.

You calm down after a few seconds as Max continures to gaze at you. When silence finally comes over you, Max leans up to rest on his elbows as you sit up slightly to look down at him.

“I love you too, by the way,” He says softly, “Dont know if you noticed.”

You hum, biting your lip to hold back your laugh, “I assumed so, yeah.”

You laugh as Max huffs, reaching a hand up to pull you down beside him, “Shut up.”

And you do, going quiet as your lips meet his. Later that night, as your both lying in bed, together this time, you fall asleep with your head against his chest, basking in the long-lastint but newly-confessed love between you.

The next morning, you wake up before Max, as you'd done so often. You slip out of his hold and pad over softly to the balcony, sliding on one of his hoodies before you open the sliding door.

You sink into one of the two chairs, looking out over the city of Sao Paulo as it slowly wakes up. The sun peeks out over the horizon, adding light to the previously dark morning.

Eventually, the door slides open behind you and you don’t even have to look to know it’s Max. But you look anyway, happy to take any chance to observe the man.

You take the mug from his offering hand, grasping the warm ceramic tightly. Max doesn’t walk over to the railing, instead moving toward the chair next to you. Before he sits down, he slides it over, pushing it as close to your chair as it could go. He sits down and you twist to sit sideways, leaning your legs over the arm of the chair. Max gently pulls your ankles over his chair to rest in his lap before he takes a long sip of his coffee.

You take a long sip of your own mug as well, letting the taste of the coffee coat your throat and warm your heart.

Milk and sugar, just the way you like it.

——————

Tags: @evie-119 @casperlikej

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #formula 1 #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader

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miedei · 2 months ago

Text

nonexistent rizz

the team is shocked to see that… early seasons!spencer pulls?? and he has pulled???? (aka, the team discovers that early seasons!spence has a girlfriend)

a/n: first cm fic!!! super indulgent, deffo way longer than it had to be but I don’t care, I love love love the dynamic of the s1/s2 team and I NEEDED to write it (look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)

cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), completely inaccurate early 2000s technology i think, cuties being cute, not edited in any way

wc: 2k

part two | part three | mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

“‘O Keefe’s! My wonderful, wonderful sweethearts, we are going out!” The moment the team steps out of the elevator, Penelope is bombarding them, hands moving wildly as words seem to tumble out of her mouth. “And yes, Hotch, I am sure we have no cases lined up yet, and yes, I’m sure JJ can corroborate that the moment she gets to her office and no, you may not stay behind, tonight is compulsory. That stands for you too, Gideon!”

Hotch hasn’t even opened his mouth, shaking his head in defeat as he takes in Garcia’s determined face. Under the watchful eyes of the team, his shoulders slump, a tired hand scrubbing down his face. “Fine. We all have to finish our reports, but if we’re all done in half an hour, we can go. Gideon?” He turns his face, hoping for Gideon to find a way to bunk off, but there’s a glint of amusement in the older man’s eye. “Sounds like there’s no getting out of it.” With that, he walks off, to his office.

Penelope whoops excitedly, “Okay! That means we’re all going! That’s the first time since Gideon came back,” but her face sets slightly when she meets Spencer’s eye. “No. No, Baby Genius, you will not do this to me,”

“Garcia, I have pl-” “No! You are coming out with us, and we’re going to have a great time, and whatever Russian indie film you were going to watch will still be there for you tomorrow. Okay? No more complaining, baby, you know I won’t listen.” With a pat on his shoulder, she flounces off. Defeated, he doesn’t move from the elevator area, shrugging helplessly when Elle, JJ and Morgan brush past him to the bullpen.

With a sigh, he takes out his phone, pressing his newly-programmed speed dial and bringing the phone to his ear. From Derek’s vantage point in the bullpen, he can see Spencer, pacing back and forth in front of the elevator doors, and he can see the moment whoever is on the other side picks up. The younger man’s face lights up, like when he’s on the receiving end of a rare Hotch smile out in the field, but more spirited, buoyant. Only snippets of the conversation float in through the slightly-ajar glass doors, but they’re enough to give him pause, and still his fingers above his keyboard.

“...Garcia’s got this plan for us all, and…”

“Yes, I know, I do like going out with them, but that’s not what I wanted to do…”

“...I took the metro tonight, so I think I’ll just… Really? You want to?”

At that point, Spencer turns, his voice muffling, and keeping Derek from his vested interest in his conversation. But what little he heard is more than enough to pique his interest. He flicks a pencil onto Elle’s desk. “Greenaway. You know if pretty boy’s mom is in town or something?” Elle looks up from her monitor, head tilting, “Not that I know of. Besides, doesn’t she not like flying? I don’t think he’d have her come here. Why do you ask?”

Derek doesn’t reply, simply gesturing to the glass doors, where Spencer is walking inside, his mouth twitching to conceal his smile. His steps are measured, like he’s trying to feign calm. He settles at his desk, hunching his back in a way that can’t be comfortable, typing rapidly as his knee jiggles up and down. Elle turns back to Derek, eyes wide with wonder.

“That is not how you look getting off the phone with your mother.”

The incident is quickly forgotten, however, when the BAU team are crammed into a booth in the back of the low-lit bar. Penelope has roped Hotch into helping her bring drinks back from the bar, and the rest are speaking a little too loudly, arms flinging and bumping into the empty glasses littering the table.

All except for Gideon, who, despite having had three glasses of whiskey, is still just as calm and observant as he is fully sober. It is this that causes him to zero in on Spencer, sitting across from him, sandwiched between Morgan and the newly-returned Garcia.

There’s a pink flush across his high cheekbones, and he’s incredibly giggly, all things that are completely expected for him, a few drinks in. However, what the experienced profiler picks up on, are his darting eyes. Spencer can often be found staring into the middle distance, or, since Gideon taught him the importance of building rapport with victims and officers alike, trained steadily on the space between someone’s eyebrows, but this time it’s different.

His eyes flick to whoever’s talking, feigning interest, but every few seconds, it turns back down to his lap, where something is clutched in the hand he keeps under the table. If it were Hotch, Gideon would know with absolute certainty that he was watching his phone, waiting for a text from Haley.

But this is Spencer. The youngest person he knows. The youngest person he knows whose technological knowledge is somehow worse than Gideon’s own. What on earth would have Spencer acting-

Oh. Gideon nearly gasps at Spencer’s movements. On his fifteenth peek down at his lap, Spencer stiffens, then draws his hand up from his lap to get closer to his face. It is his phone, and Spencer Reid has somehow learned to text as quickly as Morgan does. His thumbs fly over the buttons on his phone, and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads on his face.

Gideon’s eyes furrow, and he can’t hold back from nudging Hotch’s shoulder, pointing in Spencer’s direction. Hotch pulls himself away from his conversation with JJ, and Gideon can see his expression morph from mild interest, to confusion, to complete bewilderment. After a beat, his face turns to meet Gideon’s and his normally stoic demeanor is shaken, eyes wide.

Spencer, however, doesn’t even notice his mentors’ faces, still tapping away at his phone and craning his neck to look around the bar.

It’s a while later, when JJ has pulled the team (minus Hotch and Gideon) onto the dance floor, a few drinks past tipsy at this point. She’s laughing out loud, holding Elle’s hand and twirling her under her arm. Penelope and Derek are mock-waltzing, bursting into laughter every few steps, and Spencer…

JJ pauses for a moment, before Elle pulls her into moving again. Her head whips around, trying to find Spencer, before giving up. He must be back at the table with Hotch and Gideon, he was never very comfortable dancing anyway.

The four on the dance floor quickly devolve into a mess, swapping partners until they’re all dizzy and laughing. JJ and Penelope are shimmying back and forth together, when Penelope gasps a little, tapping JJ’s arm without ceasing her movements. “Jayj! Look, see that girl at the bar?” She gestures subtly at a younger woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a purple wrap top that has JJ sighing wistfully.

“Pen, I think I’ve seen my soulmate. Would it be weird for me to crawl over there and beg her for her shirt?” Penelope giggles, gripping JJ’s forearms so they can sway to the music dramatically. “Just a little, my sweet. How about we go ask her where it’s from, though? I think that would be a little more…” She goes uncharacteristically silent, and it has JJ twisting to see what shut her up. However, Penelope tightens her grip on her arms, keeping her from moving.

“JJ. My love, my heart. You’ll always be honest with me, won’t you?” Now she’s worried. JJ nods quickly, deciding to just focus on Penelope. “Yeah, Garcia, of course. What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m seeing things, and you are one of the most qualified people in the world to tell me if I’m going crazy. I’m going to turn us around, and you’re going to look at the woman in that gorgeous top, and you are going to either scream, or send me off to Hotch for a psychological evaluation.” Her tone is serious, hushed, and JJ nods solemnly.

The intricate plan is conducted, and JJ is now facing the bar, her eyes searching for the girl, when she stiffens, sucking in a breath. “Yes! I’m not crazy, you see it right? What is going on!” Penelope smacks her arm repeatedly, but JJ can’t tear her eyes away from it. It being something she couldn’t possibly have prepared herself for, not in her wildest imaginations.

The girl is sitting on a barstool, sipping at a cocktail, and chatting to… Spencer. Spencer, the BAU’s Spencer, child-prodigy-lovable-dork-awkward-mess Spencer Reid, is stood in between her legs, smiling down at Mystery Girl without a hint of fear. It’s devastatingly sweet, his eyes soft in a way she’s never seen before, as he nods along with whatever she’s saying. Penelope jolts her out of her trance with a tap to the arm, JJ whispering, “He’s so… carefree.”

That’s the only way to describe it. He’s looking down at her, eyes locked onto hers, and he’s still. His hands aren’t tapping, his leg isn’t shaking. He’s just looking at her.

JJ can feel Morgan and Elle huddle near her, questioning Penelope about what they’re looking at, before shutting up as they see it. She hears them take twin gasps, and huddle even closer. They stand in silence, surely a hindrance to the people dancing, but they can’t tear themselves away.

It’s only when Spencer shatters their worlds once more that they finally find themselves able to move. Four pairs of eyes follow him, as he leans even further towards Mystery Girl, and they all bulge at once when he raises a hand, carding his fingers through her hair. Penelope whispers, “oh my god”, Elle grips JJ’s arm in a vice grip, and Derek makes an unseemly noise, before gripping their arms, tugging them back to the booth.

They collapse in the seats, faces pale as they look at each other, next to a very confused Gideon and Hotch.

“What? What is it?” Hotch questions them, brow furrowed deeply. None of them speak, however. Only Elle lifts a weak hand to point. She directs their attention to the sight at the bar, and they all turn back to it, gasping once again. They’re… “kissing,” Derek breathes, shocked. Hotch and Gideon stiffen, but still crane their heads until their eyes fall on what has rendered their highly trained team speechless. And their reactions are just as silent.

Mystery Girl has stood up, her arms around Spencer’s neck, and he’s leaned down to meet her lips, hands braced on her hips. It’s honestly not that scandalous, a lazy, casual kiss that they part from with twin smiles, but the FBI agents can’t handle it. They don’t say a word, straining their ears to hear whatever she is saying as he holds her hand (Penelope lets out a squeak at that), and walks with her towards the door, not even noticing that his coworkers have returned to the booth. Her voice is low, but Hotch manages to pick up a few of the words.

“...go home and watch that movie I was telling you about? Metropolis, I think you’ll really…” And they’re off. Spencer Reid has left a bar, holding hands with a girl (that he’s apparently spoken to multiple times? Who refers to a place as home for both of them?), acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

The group sits in silence, unable to muster a comment, when Penelope’s phone buzzes. She checks it, and silently turns the screen over so they can all read it.

BOY GENIUS: Hey Garcia. I wasn’t feeling well so I decided to go home. See you Monday :-)

“What?”

#early seasons!spence my beloved #earlyseasons!spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #writing #bau team #jj jareau #penelope garcia #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler #mystery girl!au

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hex800020 · 1 month ago

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Non-negotiable HCs I have (Tim edition):

When he’s home alone (or at least thinks he is), he starts talking to himself like he’s hosting a podcast. He even asks himself questions and answers them in different voices or accents.

It’s his deepest secret, and he has no plans to ever tell anyone

-•-

When he’s too tired to function but can’t sleep for whatever reason (probably a nerve-wracking case), he chews on coffee beans like they’re candy

-•-

He’s such a terrible driver that even Kon—who loves to remind everyone he’s invulnerable—refuses to ride as his passenger

-•-

One time, Jason had to give him a ride on his bike during a mission, and Tim fell asleep. Jason had to stop him from giving the asphalt “a passionate French kiss” (Jason’s words).

To be fair, Jason’s back is literally a giant, perfectly warm pillow designed to put you to sleep instantly

-•-

He likes rings but rarely wears them because he’s terrified of losing a finger if one gets caught on a fence or something during one of Red Robin’s spontaneous missions…

-•-

He’s biologically incapable of keeping a plant alive. He either overwaters, dries them out, prunes them too much—basically, if it’s possible to kill a plant, he’ll find a way

-•-

He laughs (hysterically) to keep from crying.

-•-

“My trauma, my jokes.”

Most of his humor revolves around his abandonment issues and his constant need to prove himself useful.

-•-

I’m convinced he’s left-handed… no idea why

-•-

He wears blue light glasses because his vision is trashed after years of staring at screens in the dark without blinking.

-•-

He loves lemon candies (sorry about his old man soul)

-•-

Bruce doesn’t like Kon. He thinks he’s “a fool trying to be cool but failing miserably” and believes his son is way cooler.

Clark doesn’t like Tim. The kid freaks him out a little because he seems to have zero remorse and can manipulate Bruce however he wants—either without Bruce noticing or, worse, with Bruce noticing but choosing to ignore it.

[Technically, this should go under the Supers and Bats edition, but I do what I want :p]

<< Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 >>

#batman #dc comics #robin #dc robin #red robin #tim drake #kon el kent #tim kon

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prettygirl-gabi · 7 days ago

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Title: Let Me Sleep

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn’s women’s basketball

Rating : General Audiences

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: is sleep too much to ask for…

Paige Bueckers is the human equivalent of a golden retriever. Loud, affectionate, and seemingly immune to exhaustion. I, on the other hand, am not.

This becomes a problem every weekend when she didn’t have practice or games, she wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, blasting music or throwing herself on top of me to get me out of bed. It’s also a problem late at night, when my only goal is to shower and pass out, but she and our friends have other plans—like tonight.

After an exhausting volleyball practice and an eight-hour shift at work, all I wanted was silence, a warm shower, and sleep. I walked into our apartment fully prepared to collapse face-first into the mattress.

But instead, I was met with chaos.

Paige, KK, Ice, Jana, and Aubrey were gathered in the living room, the glow of a ring light illuminating their faces as they talked animatedly to one of the phones propped up in front of them.

They were on live. Of course.

“Baby!” Paige practically launched herself off the couch when she saw me, nearly tripping over her laptop charger in the process. “You’re home!”

“Yeah,” I muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion as I dropped my bag by the door. “Unfortunately.”

KK snorted. “Oh nah, she’s on her last leg.”

“I am,” I confirmed, rubbing my eyes. “Why are y’all screaming?”

Aubrey grinned. “We’re debating self-defense moves.”

Ice held up a Lego set. “And building this.”

I blinked. “…What?”

“They’re gonna try the moves on each other,” Jana explained with a shake of her head. “And Ice is building a house. With me.”

“Multitasking,” Ice said proudly.

I sighed, already regretting my life choices. “I’m going to bed.”

Paige pouted. “Noooo, don’t leave me.”

I gave her a blank stare. “Paige, I just worked for eight hours after a full morning practice. I want to sleep.”

“You can sleep here.” She tugged at my wrist. “C’mon, I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“Now that’s a damn lie,” I deadpanned.

The live chat must have heard because the comments started flying:

“She already knows Paige be lying, LMAOO.”

“Nah, you should sleep there just to prove how done you are.”

“Golden retriever gf and black cat gf fr, fr.”

“It’s giving y/n is a single mother rn.”

Paige ignored them, pulling me toward the couch and plopping back down with her laptop. “Here, cuddle me so you’ll be comfy.”

I was too tired to argue, so I let her maneuver me onto her lap, arms loosely wrapped around her shoulders as she settled back against the couch.

The moment my head hit her shoulder, I was gone.

I woke up to muffled voices, but I barely registered them.

Paige’s arms were still wrapped securely around me, her warmth cocooning me in a way that made it impossible to move. I buried my face deeper into her hoodie, inhaling the familiar scent of her detergent.

Somewhere in the background, KK’s voice rang out. “Wait, wait—yo, the chat is killing me right now.”

I frowned, cracking an eye open. Paige was still typing on her laptop, completely unfazed by whatever was happening. KK, Ice, Jana, and Aubrey were still talking animatedly to the iPad.

They were still on live.

I groaned softly, shifting against Paige. “Y’all are seriously still streaming?”

Paige rubbed my back absentmindedly. “Mhm.”

Jana smirked. “The chat’s been going crazy over you.”

I frowned. “What?”

KK cackled, reading out comments.

“She deadass knocked out while they screaming their lungs out over Legos and self-defense.”

“Bro, she’s strong cause I could nevaaa.”

“Paige, she’s sooo done with y’all.”

“It’s giving power couple.”

“They’re gonna make edits of them, I just know it.”

I groaned again, squeezing my eyes shut. “I hate all of you.”

“Love you too, baby,” Paige cooed, pressing a kiss to my temple.

The chat exploded.

“PAIGE PLSSS.”

“She’s so whipped.”

“Nah, I need me a Paige.”

“Paige doing work with y/n in her lap gives.. a single mother vibes.”

“Somebody que up Reba McEntire.”

I sighed, too tired to care. “I’m going back to sleep.”

Paige chuckled. “Go ahead, baby. I got you.”

And just like that, I was out again—chaos and all.

Sometime later—maybe an hour, maybe longer—I woke up to the sensation of being lifted. Paige’s arms were steady as she carried me toward our bedroom, her steps careful despite how exhausted she had to be by now.

“Mm,” I mumbled sleepily, cracking my eyes open just enough to see her face. “Live’s finally over?”

She smiled down at me, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Yeah, baby. Got my homework turned in on time, too.”

I hummed in approval, letting my head rest against her shoulder as she set me down on the bed and pulled the blankets over me. The room was dim, the soft glow from the hallway light casting a shadow across her face.

“Hold on, ma,” she murmured before disappearing into the kitchen. A minute later, she returned with my cup, filled to the brim with ice water. She set it down on my nightstand, her fingers brushing against my forehead as she leaned in. “So you don’t wake up thirsty.”

I blinked up at her, my heart doing an annoying little flip at how effortlessly sweet she was. “You’re the best.”

Paige smirked. “I know.”

I reached out, grabbing her wrist before she could turn away. “Come lay down.”

She hesitated. “I’m not really sleepy yet.”

“Don’t care.” I tugged her toward the bed. “Just come cuddle.”

That was all the convincing she needed. Paige climbed in beside me, her arm slipping under my waist as I curled into her side.

“Okay, but what are we watching?” she asked, grabbing the remote.

I thought for a second before grinning. “Turn on something from Disney Jr.”

Paige gave me a look. “You deadass?”

I nodded. “Yep. Something nostalgic. We can make fun of it while we watch.”

She rolled her eyes, but the fondness in her expression was undeniable. A few moments later, the familiar theme song of Little Einsteins filled the room. I snorted.

Paige smirked. “Classic.”

For the next hour, we laid there, half-watching, half-talking about our day. I told her about how my legs were still sore from practice, how I nearly cussed out a customer at work, and how I saw a dog that reminded me of her on my way home.

She told me about her classes, the new drill Coach Geno had them running, and how she was convinced Ice was going to drop out of school and become a full-time Lego builder.

By the time the clock hit 4 a.m., our words had slowed, our sentences broken by long stretches of silence. Paige’s fingers traced lazy circles against my back, her breath warm against my temple.

“You tired now?” I murmured.

She exhaled softly. “Yeah, baby.”

I nuzzled into her chest. “Finally.”

She chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. “Goodnight, ma.”

“‘Night, Paigey.”

And just like that, we drifted off, tangled in each other, with Little Einsteins still playing in the background.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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drewsbraziliangf · 4 months ago

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nothing to say when heaven falls | Drew Starkey x black!reader

summary: what can you do when the person that’s supposed to understand and be on your side chooses to doubt your fears?

Word count: 1388

a/n: not edited, we die like soldiers!!!!! pls let me know if you wish to be added to my taglist

"How can't you see how disrespectful this is to me, Drew?" You ask with a strained voice and teary eyes. "Everywhere you go she's looming like a shadow."

"She's my friend, what do you want me to do?" Exasperated, he asks.

"I don't know. Maybe tell her that your fiancé doesn't feel comfortable with her following you around, traveling abroad to see you or fuck, being all fucking touchy and handsy with you in public."

My throat was burning as the words slipped my mouth but I simply couldn't avoid it any longer. I am so tired of this whole situation and it has been going on for far too long. I just can't hold it back anymore.

"Can't exactly tell her what to do," he rolled his eyes this time.

"Really? Am I really asking for that much?" I look at the man in front of me with disbelief, "I just want to feel like I'm not invisible in my own goddamn relationship. She sees you more than I do and I am the one with a ring on my finger. How is this fair?"

"Babe, listen, there's nothing going on between me and her. You have to believe me," he pleads as he runs his hands through his hair.

"You don't think I'm trying to believe you? I'm in the trenches everyday telling myself this over and over again, but how can I turn a blind eye to it when the first thing I see whenever I'm online is that you're both coincidently in the same city. For the millionth time."

I know that pulling this out in the open this way isn't the best option. But how could I keep bottling all of this up when it's causing such a heavy pain in my chest every time I see their names together?

It was always clear the perks of dating a public figure and I never backed out on it. Now seeing the man who asked me to spend the rest of my life with him and have his babies walking around with the woman everyone swears he was romantically involved with is messed up.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he admits as he walks away from me.

That felt like a punch. Because how could I make it anymore obvious? Do I have to draw it to a thirty year old why he should respect the woman he chose to propose to?

“Are you for real right now?” I asked as I follow him into the kitchen of our shared apartment. “Did you really just said that to me, Joseph?”

At this point it felt like there was no going back anymore, either this was going to be totally fixed here or it wouldn’t at all. The bandaid was ripped and the wound was open and burning.

“How can you be so dull? You really can’t see what the problem here is?”

I watch as he fills a glass with water and turns his back to me. He did it twice already. The off white walls of the kitchen lacked the warm they always brought when we were in it together. It felt claustrophobic and like the roof was going to fall over our heads at any given minute.

“You’re acting like I’m cheating on you. Like this is some major fuck up. It isn’t, you’re turning it into something it isn’t.” His tone was cold but looking at his posture it was clear that he was trying to maintain his calm.

The condescending tone in his voice made me want to shrink into myself and hide away from the world.

“Oh, right. Yeah, blame it on me for thinking that my fiancé going out of his way to be with his ex fuck buddy isn’t normal.”

“Careful,” he warns once finally looks at me.

“Or what, Drew? What else could you possibly do that will make me feel worse than I already do?” I challenge, my gaze locked on him as I wait.

After a few minutes of us staring down at each other, he shakes his head and sighs.

“I’m not doing whatever this is. I’m done entertaining this,” he declares and he leans against the countertop.

Drew and I met around two years ago through a mutual friend. We instantly hit off and after a few dates, he officially asked me to be his girlfriend - which I obviously accepted. We had this instant connection that isn’t common. At first I was terrified of it, I knew who he was and the fact that his life was always being scrutinized by thousands of people. I knew what people said online about him and as we got closer and closer I couldn’t help but lose myself in the speculations about him even more.

Our relationship was great and we always made sure that each others boundaries were respected, so color me stoked to be in this situation right now. I am not dumb and every single day there is a needle pinching me making me think of stuff and situations like the one we find ourselves right now just indulge those thoughts.

In the early days of our relationship we made sure there were no secrets between us and past relationships. I knew I was his first black girlfriend, I knew he was born and raised in the South too. So joining that and the fact that I am an immigrant did make me scared of a lot of things, the main of them being the fact that it isn’t uncommon at all for men to always find their way back to that they are used to.

So seeing her upon him all the time while people online barely know about our relationship feels like hell. Because even though I’m in family pictures that his sisters post online, and the very visible ring on my finger I am never considered the option of being his significant other. She is. Every single time. And he never did anything about it - hell, he never even set boundaries with her and she knows that we’re together. Am I really reading too much into things?

Being three months away from our wedding day, this isn’t the kind of thought or conversations I would like to be having. I should be fucking excited and dress hunting, but lately the only thing that I feel like doing is swallowing lumps and holding back tears, faking smiles and pretending I’m fine. I’m not, I’m fucking falling apart and I’m so tired of begging to be seen.

“I don’t know how else to tell you that I am not comfortable with this and that you shouldn’t be either,” I point out as the first tear cross the edges of my cheeks. “I don’t know how else to ask you to respect our relationship.”

“I respect our relationship, I always did. I just don’t think that what you’re saying right now makes any sense. Whatever I had with her in the past is over.” He says as he runs one of his hands through his face.

“Drew, honey, you’re not seeing things from my point of view. Imagine if it was me catching planes every other day to be with someone that I was involved in with in the past. And all of our friends know that you and I are together. How would that make you feel?”

At that he says nothing but silence can mean many things, and in this case it means consent.

Tired of this back in forth conversation, I reach for my phone that was besides his on the counter and as if the timing couldn’t be more right, the screen of his phone lights up with an incoming call. No surprise flashes through my features as I see the picture on the caller id, both of them in a mirror picture as they brush their teeth.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I confess watching as he reaches for his phone quickly declining the call. “Not when you’re up to your eyeballs into whatever this is. I’ll make the calls tomorrow and cancel the dates with the venue.”

I grab my phone and my purse and I walk towards the front door before he can say anything else, I’m closing it behind me.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x black reader #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #obx #rafe smut #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #x black reader #x black fem reader #obx fanfiction #obx s4

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wonderjanga · 5 months ago

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Marvel in Unmarvel-like Outfits

I think every now and then Billy would change up whatever he wears as Marvel, and I personally think this would shock the JL the because they didn’t even know the suit could be taken off. Like one day, I can see Billy decked out in full Hawaiian drip:

Flash: “Hey, Cap- woah.”

Billy: *turns around for the first time rocking a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and sandals also Hawaiian printed* “Hey, Flash. Something wrong?

Flash: “Dude, you’re wearing normal clothes.”

Billy: “Yeah…? I am.”

Flash: “But you’ve never worn normal clothes until now! I thought you said the suit didn’t come off.”

Billy: *Remembers he uses that as an excuse to not to go to bars with the others.* “Oh uh… I’m… not… Powered up?”

Flash: “Wait, you can power up? Also wait, this is you powered down??” *gestures to Billy wildly*

Billy: “Yes…?”

Flash: “So you’re telling me, none of that was padding? It was 100 percent muscle?” *Gestures to one of Marvel’s arms*

Billy: “Uh… yeah? Look uh- I gotta go! Bye!” *Speed walks away*

Billy went a country fair and was still riding the high of cowboy-ness. So now, he’s wearing cowboy clothes complete with fringe, golden spurs on his boots, and even a bandana. He even went the extra mile and used a lightning lasso. Until he got tired of it and just went back to punching.

He was having his fun but of course someone has to ruin it:

Black Adam: *Flies in from somewhere* “Champion! Show yourself!”

Billy: “Adam.” *Flies up to Teth’s level and tips his cowboy hat to the other man*

Black Adam: *About to monologue about how this is going to be the time he finally beats Billy but then he sees the champion’s clothes* “You imbecile, what are you wearing?”

Billy: “I’m not an imbecile, I’m a cowboy!”

Black Adam: *does the sassiest eye roll* “Sure… Let’s just fight, wretch.”

(People ate this up too. There were like a thousand edits of him with the ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ and the ‘hey sexy lady’ and the ‘shake it for me girl’ songs, much to Billy’s horrification)

Billy one day magics up a toga, one of those gold leaf crown things, and he even wears sandals. He even decides to speak exclusively Ancient Greek and it makes the Justice League worry little. They send Diana in since she’s the only one who can understand him:

*Billy’s in the kitchen making himself food.*

(Ancient Greek will be in italics)

WW: *knocks on door frame* “Marvel?”

Marvel: “Yeah, Wondy?”

WW: *leans against doorway* “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but the others are worried about you.”

Marvel: *pauses cooking* “Why?”

WW: “Well…” *looks Marvel up and down* “You’re dressed differently, and you’re speaking Greek.”

Marvel: *stares in confusion before he smiles* “Oh, Wondy, don’t worry! This is just a bit. I’ll be done by tomorrow. Promise!” *offers pinky swear*

WW: *sighs* “If you say so.”*does pinky swear with him*

#billy batson #captain marvel dc #dc captain marvel #fawcett #fawcett city #fawcett comics #shazam #wonder woman #diana prince #the flash #wally west #black adam #teth adam

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inmyheaddd · 6 months ago

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wake up call - rafe cameron x reader

summary: pranking soft/tired!rafe after a party, by spewing absolute nonsense warnings: maybee slightly ooc rafe?? nothing really wc: 481 a/n: not too sure why i wrote this, i never write for obx 🤔🤔 i think its the drew starkey edits getting to me

“rafe,” you patted his shoulder, “raaaafe,” he didn’t respond to you, only groaning as he turned in his sleep.

it was nearing 3 am now, and you had just gotten back from some party. you had been so exhausted just 30 minutes ago in the car as rafe drove you home, but now sleep seemed to be the last thing on your mind. rafe on the other hand, fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow.

after scrolling on your phone for a little while and seeing a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend, you decided it would be a good idea to do the same to the brunette who was dead asleep next to you.

“it’s super important,” you tapped his shoulder, “rafe. quick, wake up.” you lightly shook his arm as he mumbled incoherently, then turned away from you.

“rafe, it’s an emergency. the beach broke, i need you to fix it for me.” you added, your voice so full of worry that it made rafe stir around again, this time to face you, with his eyes still closed. “…what?” he muttered as he scrunched his face up in confusion.

“you have to fix it, rafe.” you bit your bottom lip, almost shaking with the laughter you were holding in.

“alright, alright. i’ll do it tomorrow, yeah?” he grumbled as he patted his arm around mindlessly, trying to find you.

“you better, it’s really important.” you thanked god that he couldn’t see the wide smile on your face, contrasting to the dead serious, worried hint your voice took on.

“also, can you buy mars for me?” you almost broke out laughing right then and there at the blabber you were coming up with. “i’ve had my eye on it for a while, y’know? i think it would match that red top i have really well.”

“sure, whatever you want.” he mumbled languidly as he tried to pulled you closer to him, before his face scrunched up in confusion.

“baby,” he said, “what the fuck are you talkin’ about?” he blinked his eyes open at you, his eyebrows knitted together. “are you high?”

“nooo, oh my god.” your giggles broke out as you threw your head back, “it was a prank! i’m sorry.” you didn’t sound sorry in the slightest, still laughing uncontrollably at your boyfriends confused, and likely annoyed expression.

he tutted, briefly shaking his head and turning it to the side. you weren’t too sure if you were imagining the tiniest of smiles on his lips or not. “don’t play that stupid shit on me, go back to sleep.”

your laughter began to fade as he adjusted his position and turned you around, pulling your back flush against his front and wrapping his arms around you.

“you’re no fun.” you muttered, nonetheless with a smile on your face.

“yeah, i know, baby.” you felt the ghost his lips on your neck, “talking about buying mars and fixing the beach. get some sleep.”

now, you could practically feel the way his lips turned up on your skin. that was a huge win in your book.

debating your choices, you wanted to see if you could push his buttons just once more.

“…rafe?”

a sleepy hum.

“if you could though, would you get me mars?”

silence.

you figured he was asleep, so you took the loss and closed your eyes, but then he finally spoke:

“how much did you fucking drink?”

another a/n: this is a rafe version of the “half asleep” grayson hawthorne fic that i wrote!! (sorry guys im incapable of coming up w something new rn…)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #outer banks #obx #obx fic #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #❦ jude writes

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clockwayswrites · 30 days ago

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The Haunting of Danny Fenton, p4

Masterpost late, tired, still emotional and physically fragile. please no editing <3

“—ir? Sir?”

Danny mumbled something incoherent that was supposed to be a response to that, or befuddlement about being called ‘sir’, or at least something better than ‘wadamehaaftz’. The bite of a tightening blood pressure cuff around his arm helped bring him a little be back to the world. He opened his eyes right into too bright light and winced back in reaction.

“Sir? Do you need us to call an ambulance?” the panicked looking barista asked. She was crouched down next to him where he lay on the floor.

Great, now he could never come back to this coffee shop. That was a damn shame, they had really good bagels.

“No,” Danny managed to make his mouth say. “Seizure. Newish thing for me. I’m fine—will be fine. Sorry.”

“Maybe you should stay laying down for a moment longer?” The barista suggested.

Danny hummed. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“Dude,” someone said off to Danny’s right. He didn’t think it was worth the effort to turn his head and look, “you just had a seizure. You were screaming. Like, I think we’re all okay if you lay there. We can step around you.”

There were murmurers of agreement.

“Okay, yeah, you know what, great,” Danny said and summoned the willpower to lift his hand and give there room a thumbs up. He let it drop listlessly back down onto his chest.

At least the floor was cool against his back. And he did feel a bit better not trying to get up immediately. When he finally pulled himself back up into his chair, the nice barista brought him a glass of ice water with a straw. Danny drank every drop of the first glass and a refill until the paper of the stupid straw started to turn to mush between his lips.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be up for doing much especially that day, Danny got a bagel sandwich to go, left a generous tip, and fled the cafe with his proverbial tail between his legs.

Penny was was at the apartment. She shoved a still warm load of banana bread at Danny as she bitched about her latest failed relationship. Apparently her girlfriend had been hooking up with the bouncer at their favorite bar. Not that Penny would have minded if they had talked through it before hand and Penny was allowed to join every now and again.

Which, fair, the bouncer did have amazing arms.

When Penny’s phone rang, blaring a dated pop song, Danny was able to make his escape with the added load of his two liter water bottle and bag of little oranges. Or not oranges—clementines? Tangelos? Whatever, little oranges.

He set everything down on the end of his bed before flinging himself onto it.

Another seizure. A worse one.

But a clearer vision of the ghost than he’d ever had before.

Groaning, Danny dragged himself to hang over the edge of his bed so he could pull out one of the storage cubes from under it. After a bit of shuffling, he got the one he wanted out from the back: a long ignored stack of art supplies. Danny rummaged around in it for a pencil and eraser before he pulled the sketchbook out from the bottom. He flipped past old game ides and idle doodles to find a blank page and started to work.

There was so much of the ghost that he still couldn’t define, but the more he worked at the sketch of the ghost’s face, the more he started to narrow it down.

Danny stared down at the page.

Overworked eyes stared back.

Feeling frustrated at how close it was, Danny grabbed a blue marker from the page and filled in the eyes carefully. Then, with almost irritated strokes, Danny roughly messed in the strikingly orange hair.

Now his ghost started back.

“Hello there…"

#dp x dc #danny/wally #danny/dick #dick/wally #danny/dick/wally #thodf

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cozycottagetarot · 10 months ago

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PAC: Your First Kiss With Your Person

Notes:

This PAC Contains:

General Info On The Kiss

Setting The Scene

The Kiss

Extended Edition Covers:

You During The Kiss

Your Person During The Kiss

The Aftermath

✨ This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨ (General Disclaimer at the bottom)

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

PILE 1

General Things

Could be very early in the relationship… during the ‘get to know you’ stages. There’s a lot of attraction and tension between you and this person. I think this could be someone you either meet through a career or online. It’s fast paced but intense, a quick back and forth. But it’s good because it’s an exchange where you both are on the same level or matching energies. It’s welcomed, but it feels very interrogative, like ‘does this person fit the bill of what I’m looking for 👀’ rather than a chill get to know you. It feels like a new environment too, as in both of you are out doing something new together for the first time. It doesn’t seem like there’s any anxiety around the questioning, just kind of throwing every and anything at the wall to see if it sticks. Scorpio or Gemini could be important placements for you or them.

Setting The Scene

When it comes to the location of the kiss it could be a festival of some kind, I’m get a fair, specifically a renaissance fair for someone, or something with that vibe for a few of you. It could also be an event around water and/or where there will be live entertainment. I think it’s definitely picked strategically by whoever plans this outing… I think maybe more so your person. I also feel like it could be their old stomping grounds as well or something being hosted by someone they know. There’s an opportunity to kind of learn from others during this event/setting also.

The Kiss In General

I think this kiss is going to be awakening or energizing. One that gives you a surge of energy. I also heard that you might be trying to best them at something too. It might be outside of one your comfort zones and there could be a lot of anxiety surrounding the kiss on someone’s part. If not anxiety, hearts racing. During a dance as well could be another likely scenario. One where it’s like "Okay, we’re dancing... I feel like a fool, Oh! you’re kissing me!"... Except the rest of the thoughts just fizzle out because you melt into it. People around you might cheer you guys on.

If you'd like to see the extended version of this reading which covers you & your person's feelings during the kiss as well as the 'aftermath' you can check it out on my Patreon here. Regardless, thank you for reading and take care! 💕

PILE 2

General Things

The cards are giving me fairytale-esque vibes... a dream come true. This could happen when you’re traveling, finding home or experiencing something life changing. This could happen at a time where you’re on a journey to finding yourself/ finding your way and I’m getting that your person is intent on wanting to show you they can be a part of that world. I think this person is hard to ignore, and honestly it could be hard to ignore whatever is going on between you two. There could be something about their eyes… maybe you avoid eye contact because it’s so intense and feels like you’re intruding? I think your person lights up your world. However, they could kind of know themselves and have all their 'colours' while you’re now finding yours. There’s something intimidating here about them.... very much you trying to convince yourself you two can’t be together. I’m also hearing “You’re my North Star”.

It could happen during a place that represents transition, in the location you’re leaving or at one of your homes (most likely yours). It’s like they want to offer you home and you’re resisting. You’re denying yourself entrance into the castle they have to offer. I think your head and heart aren’t aligning and in all honesty your person is tired of it and just at a point where they are begging you to let yourself be happy.

Setting The Scene

I feel like this is a nice setting. More lavish for some than others . It could be in the evening or at night. It should be a date? I don’t think you want it to be but it is… I mean I think you know it is but you're at a point where you're beside yourself pushing this person away mentally and throwing up walls. You guys could go to a show or some kind of enchanting exhibit too.

The Kiss In General

This could definitely be at night. I think the setting really depends on your interest. So it could be a concert, something related to music… but somewhere someone has the chance to get rowdy. Even a wedding or something where it’s nice but someone can likely get plastered and no one would really be surprised.

Okay back to the general kiss. I feel like it's a battle in a way. It’s impulsive. Emotions are running high. It’s about potential and fighting for what’s 'right'... Trying to wake you up. A climatic battle of trying to get out of your head so you can see what’s in front of you and just not what you’re dreaming of... what you think the cards (?) are telling you. I think this may be if you're constantly consuming tarot or other forms of divination and living your life by it.

PILE 3

General Things

You could be a little bit disinterested or distracted when you have your first kiss with your person. I think it might take you a minute or two before it registers in your head that you too kissed. It could be a kiss to calm you… like you’re brain is going a mile a minute and generally not being grounded.

I think you’re going to be in a comfortable situation when your person kisses you/you two share your first kiss. It could be in a situation where you’re both working on something together. Or they are helping you with something you’re working on. It’s someone who complements you beautifully. It could be a social gathering between close friends as well (but it still feels like a rather private moment, like everyone else is distracted as well and they sneak a quick kiss). If you’re a musician (or a music teacher, really anything related to that field) you could be composing or reviewing a piece and they kiss you. You could get pulled in many different directions mentally or come up with a lot of ideas but burn out on them quickly.

Setting The Scene Oh my gosh-- Are you hungry or do you like food because all I can think of is food 😩

It could be a casino, family/friends game night, holiday dinner. You’re focused intensely on something in front of you. Your mind is calculating, unfazed by things going on around you. I’m also getting the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland... a 'smoky' or and environment that gives off psychedelic vibes.

The Kiss In General

I think the kiss is attention grabbing, not just for you but someone around you may kind of cheer or whoop but you might not pay them much mind. I think your person is like this is my time with y/n and I’m not letting their thoughts steal them away! I think they're accustomed to you being off in la la land. For some of you, you could be in the medical field or have a very scholarly profession that bleeds into your personal time. But the kiss always cuts through that. I’m hearing “ah ah ah” as well.

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #cozycottagetarot #cozycottagetarot readings #free tarot reading #tarotblr #pick an image #future spouse #pac tarot

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deadhands69 · 22 days ago

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Will you be my Valentine?: Heroes (masc characters)

How does your favorite hero act on Valentine’s day when they have a crush on you? masc characters edition ▷ fem version ▷ villain version Featuring: Katsuki Bakugo, Shouto Todoroki, Hitoshi Shinso, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, Izuku Midoriya, Tamaki Amajiki, Hawks, Shouta Aizawa.

Bakugo is even more passive aggressive towards everyone most of the day: it's because he's nervous. The two of you often spend time at each other's places but tonight it's different. He's planning to make you a nice dinner and, if it goes well, tell you he likes you. When you arrive, there's a cute simple bouquet of your favorite flowers on the table and the smell of your favorite food. He did well. Everything goes to plan and you end up making out on his couch half the night.

How to handle this: Please don't tell anyone, he can't deal with them making fun of him for being soft.

Shouto read a lot of romance mangas to come up with a plan. He tried to chose ideas from the ones with main characters that remind him of you so it looks like your options will be: the mall, ice skating, and/or a nice dinner. If you're up for it, he's happy to do all three (but good luck dressing for that.) He stole Endeavor's credit card for whatever you want to do (at this point it's not really stealing, Endeavor just had cards made for each of his kids because he was sick of not being able to find his own.)

How to handle this: He has the basic structure of a date laid out, you'll probably have to fill in the rest with him. That'll be fun though!

Shinso listened to Aizawa's advice to do something low key for you. A few days in advance, he asks if you're free then makes some 11am plans to meet at a coffee shop then stop by the book and record stores nearby. It's laidback and easy, you get to talk to know him a lot better and each of the stops gives you an idea of each other's taste in media. Neither of you wants the date to end, so you pick up some takeout and head back to your place to listen to the albums you bought (and maybe other things.)

How to handle this: Keep him caffeinated, he wants to keep talking and get to know you better but he's soooo tired.

Kaminari knocks on your door just after 6pm on Valentine's day wearing a shirt that says “I’m with [giant picture of you face]”, he had one made for you too! Surprise!! After a few cheesy pickup lines, he asks you to go to the arcade with him. At first you think he's joking, because his tone is the same as the bad pickup lines, but you quickly realize he's completely serious about all of it. When you get there, you discover he's surprisingly good at the claw machine and wins you more plushies than you can carry. He also likes playing lightly competitive games against you, but it's mostly an excuse to playfully bump/nudge you when you pass him at Mario Kart. As you're leaving, he asks you on a second date to play mini golf, then celebrates you saying yes by kissing you excitedly and knocking all the plushies out of your arms.

How to handle this: Just go with it. Some of it's a little cringe but in a fun dorky way.

Kirishima volunteered to work Valentine's day a few months ago. He'd still like you to be his Valentine though, so he asks if you'll go out with him the day before. Fortunately, you're free that evening and get dinner reservations somewhere you both wanted to try. It's cute, he walks you to your doorstep, and kisses you goodnight. While at work, he spends all of Valentine's day texting you whenever he gets a chance. You have so much fun talking all day that you invite him over to hang out after his shift ends.

How to handle this: He's already happy you gave him a chance and were willing to work with his busy schedule. Also, tell him he's manly, he'll love it.

Midorya wrote 56 pages of plans over the past half a year, detailing exactly how he'd like to take you out, where you might be interested in going, how he'll ask, and rankings of the best and worst gift ideas. In the end, he ends up asking you out a week in advance, hands sweating so much he could barely text. When he arrives at your door, he's dressed cute and hands you some pretty flowers. The two of you walk to a nearby cafe. Overall, the whole thing is really sweet, even if he's super nervous.

How to handle this: Hold his hand on the walk back and his heart might jump out of his chest.

Amajiki wrote you a four page love letter complete with the most beautiful poem to ever grace the planet. Unfortunately, even with his friends hyping him up, he couldn't work up the nerve to deliver it to you so it lives in a box under his bed now.

How to handle this: You can try talking to him, but he'll probably get scared. Maybe just start with acknowledging his existence and if he doesn't run away immediately go from there.

Hawks takes you to five different parties over the course of the evening. At first, you figured he was asking you as a date. By the end of it, you're not so sure because nothing about this evening has been particularly romantic. That is, until he kisses you at the last stop - making his intentions very clear.

How to handle this: He's so excited you said yes and wants to publicly show off that you're willing to be his date, let him and he'll do all the sweet stuff later.

Aizawa isn't up for a huge fancy dinner or anything like that. But he does know it's Valentine's day and he does want to do something with you. He invites you over to his house to hang out, orders takeout, and rents a movie. You're ten minutes into the movie when you look over…and- fuck, he’s asleep.

How to handle this: Honestly, he’d probably prefer it if you just let him sleep.

masterlist

will aizawa fall asleep in every one of my hcs? yes.

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 9 months ago

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A Changed Future (2) | Yandere Isekai

Part 1

It’s so irritating for Haruko

He remembers how he used to try and make noise in the beginning, when the same thing happened to him

But even without your struggling, he’s got more obstacles than he thought

“Tch all these guys getting in our way, maybe I should just kill them.”

“Haru no!”

“Why not, I'm sure you did it when I was trapped.”

“That…that doesn’t make it right!”

“So? Who cares about right when we’re in love? I think it was you who said that.”

Either way with or without your approval he’s figuring out a way to take down his newfound rivals

He kind of hopes they are as ambitious as the friends who recently abandoned him

Too bad they aren’t

In the original story, the crazy thing about the protagonist was that despite their obsessive love for Haruko and general disregard for those who got in the way of that was otherwise really inspiring

Breaking away from their elitist family for their violent morals ironic right

Joining the workforce, easily rising because of their work ethic and intelligence

And all that while beautifully evading a less-than-clean detective trying to pin the blame of random crimes on them

Which of course got them their own male leads attempting to pursue their affections

Always doomed to fall short because of circumstance or the protagonist suavely crushing their hopes to gush about their love

It was a uniquely terrible tragedy for their characters to be written this way

That’s what the random reviewers would say

Which is why you did feel inclined to maybe entertain them a bit more than the original protagonist would have ever done

“Since you are quitting….I hope you’ll let me treat you to dinner. For all your hard work of course.”

“Uh sure but I have to be home by sunset.”

“That’s a shame then we’ll have to—Wait. Did you say you would?”

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“YES! Ahem I mean yes I’m fine! I look forward to a nice evening together!”

Unknowingly furthering the obsession the protagonist was barely keeping at bay

“So mind telling me what you ordered that day at the restaurant?”

“I think it was my favorite dish there called the berry delight but I’m not sure. I think they changed the menu since I was there.”

“Why not confirm it later today? That way you can tell me if you did see the missing classmate of yours.”

“But I don’t remember exactly where I sat–”

“Then we’ll just have to sit in every spot until it rings a bell.”

“I don’t know if that’s–”

“Don’t fret. I’ll be paying but there's no way we’ll get to try every table. We’ll have to come back multiple times.”

“Okay…”

“No worries I’m sure you’ll get tired of eating there so we’ll go to some other places to give you a rest. Anywhere you wanted to try?”

You’d be foolish to think you could escape them by agreeing to Haruko’s entrapping of you

It only takes a day of you not responding to messages that they both eagerly awaiting you at your door

And after the first few times, Haruko shooing them away they begin to get resourceful

“Yeah bud nice try their still out.”

“Hm well say that to my lovely warrant right here.”

“Wait! H-h-hold on! Geez I-i’ll go get them now but they are not going to be happy with you!”

It really doesn’t get better as the guard against the protagonist’s secrets begins to be let down as interested parties slowly make their way in

You don’t have the same ruthlessness or ability to deceive as the protagonist you took over for

On top of that you never actually read the webtoon so you’ll be left trying to piece together whatever few weak points the protag has

Where if you hadn’t already started to make your pursuers interested all those faults are fuel for their agenda

“It’s so unfortunate that the company can sign off on your absence during this suspicious crime but I don’t mind editing records if you wouldn’t mind spending time with me. That way I can vet your personality myself. Over wine of course!”

It’s overwhelming constantly being pulled in 3 directions

What’s worse you’re completely oblivious when the latest obstacle in the protag’s perfect life finally makes themselves known

“Hello darling, it took us years to find you but we did it!”

“Don’t look like that come give your Mama a hug!”

Part 3: Coming Soon

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wintfleur · 1 year ago

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ꔫ clingy lover and sunrises

°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )

°. — summary ( what’s better than watching the sunrise with your pretty boyfriend? )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; kissing. wc; 3k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( this is totally based off this tiktok, I watched it and fell even more in love with lando, didn’t even know that was possible. I’m not fully happy with the ending, i feel like it’s rushed. But I do hope you enjoy it! Cant wait to write more of lando, I have a longer lando fic in the works! I think soon I’ll open my requests )

You were lying in bed waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, when you saw the TikTok. You were a resident and happily lived on LandoTok or whatever it was called. You loved watching all the edits of your boyfriend the fans would tag you in, the captions were always so creative. It was also hilarious seeing all the replies you would get when you would comment on them, sometimes you would even tag Lando, that's when it really got fun.

You were doing your daily Tik Tok scroll checking all the edits you were tagged in, liking and commenting on a few that were of you and Lando. You stopped on a TikTok, a smile forming on your sleepy face when you hear his voice. You weren't familiar with the video they were clipping, listening to him say that he sleeps in more and doesn't see the sunset much, makes your eyes widen with an idea. What your boyfriend said was true, he really did sleep in a lot. Wouldn't it be romantic to watch the sunrise with him? You think with a smile.

You click onto the comments and your smile widens when you see all the comments, most of them being about how good he looks, he did really look good. You giggle when you see a comment saying “I mean can you blame him for being tired, I would be too if y/n was my gf ;)” oh god you loved Lando’s fans.

“What are you giggling about?” Your boyfriend's teasing tone brought you out of your trance of looking through the comments. You hear the satisfying click of you turning off your phone and you look up just in time to see your boyfriend walking out of the bathroom and jumping into the bed and laying on his stomach next to you. You set your phone on the bedside table and bring your hand to play with his newly blow-dried hair. Lando lets out a hum of appreciation at your touch.

“Your fans are pretty funny” you whisper as you move to lay on your side, facing him. Lando opens his eyes and breaks out into a smile when the two of you lock eyes. He also moves to lay on his side, he brings one of his hands up to grab yours that was still playing with his hair. You watch as he brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your palm before he brings it under his chin, snuggling it.

“Will you tell me about it tomorrow? I can't keep my eyes open” Lando's sleepy voice makes you want to squeeze him, he's just so adorable. You move your hand that Lando isn't clinging to and move some of his hair from his face. Your eyes looking over your boyfriend's face, watching as his eyes flutter close and his face snuggle closer to his pillow.

“Yeah, I'll tell you all about it” you tell him with a smile, your mind thinking about your idea for tomorrow. You make a move to sit up, but you halt your movement when you feel Lando pull you back, you look to see him giving you a frown. “Where are you going?”

“I'm just going to turn off the light” You giggle quietly, sleepy Lando was absolutely adorable. Lando lets out a huff before letting go of you, you get out of bed and walk over to the wall and turn off the light switch, quickly rushing back into bed and getting under the sheets. Turning your head to face Lando when he lets out a chuckle.

“It's so cute how you still get scared that a monster is going to grab your feet from under the bed” Lando laughs as he scoots closer to you and wraps his arm around your midsection, resting his head next to yours. You look at him, the moonlight peeking through the curtains illuminated his face just enough for you to see him, he was so beautiful. You softly nudge him with your hip before saying “So do you.”

“Goodnight baby” Lando mumbles and snuggles closer to you after he lets out a tired chuckle from your words, he was so close that you could feel his breath on your neck. You let out a hum and close your eyes, the sound of his soft breaths lulling you to sleep. “Goodnight Lan”

You were used to waking up early, so you had no problem waking up at 6 am, 25 minutes before the sunrise. Thinking about your plan last night you thought it would be super easy to do, completely forgetting one thing. Your clingy boyfriend. When you woke up the first thing you noticed was the soft breaths of your boyfriend on your neck and the tight grip he had on your waist, your legs intertwined. If you weren't so determined to have a sweet morning with Lando, you would have closed your eyes and went back to sleep, enjoying your boyfriend's touch.

So, you ignored the voice in your head telling you to stay in bed in Lando's arms, and you carefully and slowly detach yourself from him and get out of bed. You have to stop yourself from leaning down and softly peppering your boyfriend's face in kisses when you see the sleepy pout on his lips. You grab your phone off the bedside table before quietly walking out of your room, surprised that you didn't wake him up.

You quietly hum to a tune that has been stuck in your head as you walk through your apartment. You turn on the light switch to the kitchen before setting your phone on the counter and walking over to the pantry to pull out some ingredients. You moved across your kitchen quietly, being careful not to make too much sound and wake up Lando, and before you knew it you had two hot mugs in your hands. One hot chocolate for you, and one hot tea for Lando.

Your sock covered feet softly padded against the hallway of your apartment as you walked slowly, careful not to spill any of the drinks and careful not to drop your phone that was squeezed between your armpit. When you walk into your room your eyes immediately go to your bed, where you see Lando holding onto your pillow, his legs all sprawled out and still asleep. You carefully set the two mugs on your bedside table, along with your phone before sitting at the side of your bed, facing your sleeping boyfriend.

“Lando love, it's time to wake up” You spoke sweetly as you brought your hand up to his hair, softly playing with his curls, being careful not to get your fingers stuck in his messy hair. You only get a reaction from him a few moments later when he lets out a tired groan and nuzzles his face into your pillow, a muffled no passing through his lips. You can't help but giggle at his cuteness.

“Lando please, i want to show you something” You continue to play with his hair, your thumb softly caressing his cheekbone, luring him out of his sleepy state. Lando lets out another tired groan as he rolls onto his back, his right hand moving from under the pillow to rest on your bare thigh. You watch as he flutters his eyes open, blinking a few times to get the tired out of his eyes.

Lando yawns before looking up at you with a small smirk, his morning voice deep “Say please again.”

“Please get up my love” you sweet talk with a smile, leaning down and peppering his cheek and jaw in soft doting kisses. Lando smiles and closes his eyes, a tired chuckle escaping his lips at the feeling of your lips on his face. He moves his hand that was at his side and his hand that was on your thigh and wraps them around your waist. Pulling you down against him. You let out a surprised giggle at the sudden pull. Your face flush against his neck.

“Only because you asked so nicely” Lando whispers as he kisses the crown of your head, one of his hands moving up to play with your hair. You knew you had to get up, and you knew the longer you snuggled with Lando; the harder it would be to get him up. But his arms were so comfy, he was so warm and smelt nice, you nuzzled your face into his neck for a few moments, closing your eyes and just relishing in the feeling of being so close to your lover. But the smell of your hot chocolate reminds you of your mission, you place a soft kiss on his neck before sitting up, trying to detach yourself from your clingy boyfriend.

“No, it's too early, come back to bed” your sleepy boyfriend whined as he watched you get off the bed and walk over to the balcony you had in your room, pulling back the long white curtains and unlocking the balcony doors before opening them. The cool breeze of the early air nips at your bare legs and sends a chill down your spine. The smell of the ocean hits your nose, and the sound of the waves fill your room.

Lando lays on his side and sits up on his elbow, his eyes not leaving yours. The moonlight was still shining, and you looked absolutely beautiful under it. So beautiful that he just wanted to grab you by the waist and pull you back to bed, showing you how much he loves you. But he noticed the determined look in your eyes and was thoroughly curious on why you woke him up so early and why you're so happy, so he stopped himself from doing so.

You feel Lando's stare on your back, your lower, lower back. You roll your eyes with a smile before turning to face him, you watch as his eyes shoot up to your face, an innocent smile appearing on his lips once he realizes he was caught staring at your ass. You walked over to your bed and sat on the edge, crossing your legs. Lando sat up and leaned back against the headboard when he watched you pick up his favorite mug and hold it out for him.

“So, are you going to tell me why we're up so early?” Lando asked you with a sweet smile after he took a small sip of the tea. Your mug of hot chocolate warmed your hands and soothed your body as you swallowed it. The cold breeze chills your room faster than you expected. Lando notices goosebumps on your bare legs and uses the hand that wasn't holding his mug, to cover your legs with the blanket.

“I saw this tik Tok about you last night” You start as you set your mug back on the side table, licking your lips. Lando raises his eyebrow as he takes another sip of his tea, curious on where this was going to go. There was no way he could guess what the tik Tok would be about.

“You were saying how you sleep in more so you don’t get to watch the sunrise, so I thought that maybe we could watch the sunrise together” You finally confessed your plan, your hands playing with the blanket covering your lower half. It was silent for a few moments, besides the distant sound of the ocean and you watched as a big smile spread on your boyfriend's lips, him setting down his mug too.

“Fuck you’re so cute” Lando cooed as he stopped leaning against the headboard, sitting up so he could be closer to you. He took your hands that were playing with the blanket and intertwined his fingers with yours, his eyes not leaving yours. You could see a faint blush forming on his face, but Lando couldn't help it. He loved when you planned cute things like this, it made him feel so loved.

Lando leaned closer to you and softly pecked your lips quickly before saying “I would love to watch the sunrise with you baby.”

You smiled widely and leaned closer to him, unlacing one of your hands with his and cupping his cheek. Softly caressing his cheek with your thumb before you close your eyes and sealing your lips in a kiss. Lando eagerly kissed you back, his hand that was holding yours moves to hold onto your waist, pulling you closer to him. You took charge of the kiss, finding yourself getting lost in the taste of your boyfriend's lips.

It took everything in him to pull away from the kiss, breathing heavy against your lips as he whispered, “If you keep kissing me like that, we’re going to miss the sunrise.”

The bashful smile you give him in response makes him giggle and softly kiss the tip of your nose before saying “c'mon, let's get comfy.”

After another cold chill came through the open balcony doors, the two of you decided that it would be better to stay in bed and watch, instead of sitting on your balcony. After a few minutes of trying to find the best position and many giggles, you finally found the perfect position.

“This is nice” Lando spoke quietly as he glanced down at you, before looking back at the changing color sky, the orange slowly peeking through. Lando sat in the middle of the bed while you sat between his legs, leaning your head back against his chest and cuddling one of his arms to your chest. His other arm at his side, his hand absentmindedly caressing the skin of your side, under your (his) shirt.

“What, being behind me?” You responded in a playful tone.

“My favorite place to be,” Lando says in a flirty tone, leaving a wet kiss on the side of your forehead. You smile and tilt your head to look up at him, the sunrise rises, and an orange glow appears on his face. He was so pretty; you could stare at him forever. Lando felt your stare and looked down at you, a shy smile appearing when he saw how you looked at him. With so much love.

“You're supposed to be watching the sunrise, not me baby” Lando teases you playfully, nudging you softly with his leg. He was silently praying that you couldn't feel or hear how fast his heart was beating, it wasn't fair how flustered you could make him.

“I can't help that I have such a pretty boyfriend,” you replied, copying Lando’s flirty tone from earlier. You could feel his beating heartbeat against your chest, the rhythmic beat was comforting. Your fingers were absentmindedly tracing random patterns on his arm, your focus was on the changing color sky. It was so peaceful; the smell and the sound of the ocean was soothing. And the warmth of being held by Lando made it even better.

Lando didn't reply, his eyes were on the sky and the ocean. It was a beautiful sight, a sight he definitely would want to see again, preferably with you in his arms again. He didn't think that he would find watching the sunrise so enjoyable, but he was pretty sure the reason why was his pretty girlfriend that was in his arms, and the fact that you planned this.

“We should do this again” Lando whispered, his hand on your hip rising to caress the skin of your stomach, smirking to himself when he felt the goosebumps appear on your skin from his touch. He loved how reactive you were to his touch, but to be fair he was the same way with your touch.

“Tomorrow?” You ask him, tilting your head to look up at him, a teasing smile on your lips. You already knew his answer, your boyfriend loved his sleep. And seeing by the way he nervously giggles and bites his lips; you knew you were right.

“Uhh, maybe the day after?”

“Okay, the day after” you say between your own laughter, tilting your body a little so you could face him more. Lando’s hold on your midsection tightens and he pulls you closer to his chest. Lando’s attention on the sky quickly changes when he sees the smile on your face, you look so happy. He couldn't look away, he watched as you rested your head on his chest, you were still staring at the now ending sunrise, the light from the sun creating an orange glow on your face. He smiled when he noticed you playing with his bracelets, a habit that you had picked up on the few years you have been together.

“I love you” Lando whispers in your ear, his tone full of love. You look away from the now blue sky to your boyfriend, locking eyes with the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen. You smile and let go of his wrist, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. Lando can see the look in your eyes, so he leans down and captures your lips in a soft kiss, you pour all of your love into that kiss, wanting him to feel it all.

Lando hesitantly pulls away, resting his forehead on yours as you both try to catch your breath from the kiss. You open your eyes and look up at him, your thumb gently touching his bottom lip causes him to open his eyes and look down at you.

“I love you more” You whisper back, a smile on your lips. Lando breaks out into a smile and wraps both of his arms around your waist and laying back, causing you to lay on top of him. A surprised yelp escapes past your parted lips at the fast movement and Lando can't stop the laughter from spilling from his, when he hears the cute sound. You hide your face in his chest in embarrassment, but when you hear Lando let out a snort you are quick to join him in laughter.

And in that moment of the two of you cuddling and laughing at each other, you silently thanked that TikTok. Because they created a memory that you would never forget.

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan )

#୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ. 𝓵atest release of 𝓻oro’s 𝔀orks #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #f1 x you

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strang3lov3 · 4 months ago

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Dark But Just A Game

You and Roman play tag. (5k)

Tags - noncon, one shot, smut, dark!Roman, maybe even slasher!roman??? unprotected piv, creampie, fingering, finger sucking, come eating, oral sex (f!receiving) violence, manhandling, inappropriate use of a box cutter - no gore though, i promise. i'm too squeamish to actually injure characters and deal with describing that. lack of aftercare, typical Roman sexism, Roman taunting, gaslighting, intimidating, lying, bullying. Takes place on Halloween. If you need more detailed warnings, message me. Fic help - MY BABY @endlessthxxghts!! thanks for having it in you to edit this A/N - I had fun with this creep!!! I plan to do more dark!roman in the future where he’s your creepazoid landlord stalker guy. Probably not as extreme as this fuck. This is my early Halloween treat for all of you 🎃 hope everyone has a safe and fun holiday!

If you’re interested in the music I listened to while writing this

“Can I leave now?”

Roman looks up at the ceiling and shakes his head as he sighs. “No, and quit asking me. You’re not leaving until I’m done.”

Fucker.

You’d never noticed before just how uncomfortable the couch in Roman’s office is, but after laying on it for the last three hours, you’re painfully aware. The material is scratchy, it’s uninviting. More for show than comfort, no doubt. Roman’s at his desk typing, scrolling, doing god knows what on his computer. What does he even do, actually? You’ve worked with Roman for a long time now and you hear him talk a lot about work, but as far as doing work - actually working, he does fuck all. “You never do anything, never, and now you’re…?”

“Watching porn, nuisance. Very important. Now fuck off.”

You don’t doubt that he really is watching porn, honestly. This is the third time you’ve asked Roman what he’s doing and you have yet to receive a legitimate answer. He’s got you stuck here in his office as he works - or whatever it is he’s doing - until he’s done. The rest of the building emptied out hours ago but Roman kept you late, insisting that he’d need you for something. Yet so far, he hasn’t needed you for anything. But you can’t leave, though. Per Roman’s instructions, you are not allowed to leave the building by yourself.

He couldn’t give two fucks usually, but knowing that you park in the garage, where it’s less secure than the rest of the building, Roman likes to walk you out when you’re all alone. There’s been incidents in that garage before. Nothing severe enough to actually do something about it or - more likely - nobody at Waystar really cares to. Nobody except for Roman, who insists on making sure you’re never alone in that garage. He doesn’t know why that is exactly. Maybe he’s got a soft spot for you.

Your phone died a half hour ago, and you left your charger in your car. Roman’s minimalistic analog clock reads eleven-something; you can’t exactly tell the time with the way the silver hands lay on the white background, the glare of the lights, and how the numbers aren’t even labeled. “Do you even like that clock?”

“What clock?” You point to it. It takes Roman a second to peel his eyes from his monitor, and then he squints at it. “Huh. That clock. Never noticed it before.” And his attention is back on his screen. Roman looks handsome even under the harsh, bluish light from his computer, the rest of the room pretty dark. He had you turn off the overhead lighting an hour ago. It was giving him a headache.

“I’m ready to go, Roman.”

Roman huffs. “Jesus Christ. I. Know. God, you’re like a fruit fly. Always buzzing in my fucking ear. What, am I keeping you from something? Costume party? Fucking - I don’t know. Passing out candy?”

“No, but–”

“But what?”

“I’m tired.”

It’s the truth, you are tired. And you did have plans, too. It’s Halloween, and you love to watch the same three slasher movies by yourself every year with a bowl of shitty microwave popcorn and some fun-sized candies. You’ve got a variety bag of candy in your car you picked up earlier in preparation, actually. But as the hours passed being stuck in Roman’s office, you gave up on that plan. You’d really just like to go home and sleep.

“Then take a nap,” Roman says. “I’m not even making you work. You’re getting paid to sit there and bitch to me. I can make you shred papers or something, though. Is that what you want?”

“I shredded your papers yesterday.”

“Then I’ll make you shred the blank ones. Scroll through Instagram and shut up.”

You roll your eyes. What a fucking asshole. Roman goes back to his screen, and you take some time to watch him. He just…stares. At nothing. The screen doesn’t change, it’s just that same blue-white light reflected on his face. Roman’s eyes are glazed over, his brow is pinched together. He just seems not totally there right now. He’s probably rereading the same email over and over again, but you do that too. Focus too hard on trying to be productive that you end up moving in the opposite direction.

Fuck this. Roman will keep you here until sunrise at this rate, so you pack up your purse. “I’m going to my car,” you say, walking across the room.

Roman glares at you. “Don’t,” he says, pointing in your direction. “It’s Halloween and there’s nutjobs out there. Do you know what could happen to a girl like you in a parking garage all by yourself?”

You scoff, “Fuck off. You’re ridiculous, Roman.”

Roman bites down on his smile to hide his amusement. You’re his first assistant to take none of his shit, who bites him back. What Roman lacks in size and personality, he makes up for in power and status, and he uses that advantage to bully anyone lower than himself. Never works on you, though. Roman wonders how he could change that. Everyone’s got a breaking point.

“I’m leaving.”

“No. If you leave without me, so help me god I will - I don’t know. I’ll hunt you down. I am asking you to give me just like, five minutes. Can you wait five minutes?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Five minutes, my ass.” You take your hand off the door handle and lean against the frame. “What’s this about hunting me down?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. I’ll hunt you down.” Roman rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Sounds fun. Like tag,” you smirk. You adjust your bag on your shoulder and saunter towards Roman at his desk, then tap his shoulder. “You’re it.”

Roman says your name in a threatening tone. “Do you think I’m kidding? I’m not fucking with you. Go sit down.”

You tap Roman again, then open the door. You dangle one foot out of the frame, giggling as you threaten to run. “I’m going to my car.”

Roman sighs and leans back in his rolling chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Always a game to you, huh?”

“Not always. But right now, yeah. Play with me, Roman. For like, five minutes.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh. “I have some Halloween candy in my car. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, really? Anything at all?” Roman watches you nod, a mischievous smile on your face. Whatever you’re thinking, he’s thinking worse. “Hmm. Enticing. Yeah, alright. I’ll fucking play game, fucking show you. I’ll even give you a headstart, hm? I’m feeling generous.”

“Really? How long?”

“Don’t know yet, so you better run fast. But–” Roman pauses, mulling an idea over in his head. “You can’t use the elevator.”

“What do you mean, ‘can’t use the elevator’?”

“Sound it out,” he mocks. “What do you think it means?” Fucking asshole. You roll your eyes as you play with the door a little, swinging it open and closed little by little. “Those are my terms.” Roman folds his arms across his chest.

“Are you gonna use the elevator?”

Roman makes a face and shakes his head. “Of course not. We’re gonna play fair and square. You run, I run. But faster, obviously. So you better get the fuck out, sweetheart.”

“Okay. You’re on,” you smile. “Peace out, then.”

And that’s it. Roman watches you leave. He cranes his neck a little to watch the direction you turn, and like a good girl who follows his rules, you go for the staircase.

Roman never had such complicated feelings about a woman before you came along, which says a lot given the fact he’s never had a normal relationship with a woman either. He’s perturbed by your fierceness, your independence and confidence in the face of everything you put up with at Waystar and from Roman himself. A dirty joke in the car, a pinch on your ass cheek in the elevator. It does nothing to get under your skin or make you squirm. Your happiness, that stupid smile you wear. Your laughter and your sense of humor. He wants to break down all of those parts of you, just to see if he can debase you to his level. So tonight, he’ll humor you and play the game, if that’s what it takes. Just for shits and giggles. What other opportunity does he have to do this, anyway? If you get away, win the game of tag, so be it. But if you don’t, you’re his to do with what he wants. He’ll get you in his arms and he’ll…he’ll…

Roman closes out the windows on his Mac, then shuts the computer down entirely. He smiles a little at the small Snoopy figurine you put on his desk one day after he mentioned liking the character. You told him it made sense, that you could see it. Him liking Snoopy’s character, that is. Roman opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a boxcutter, turning the tool over in his hand. There’s not even a good reason for him to have it. But he’s not gonna do anything, of course. Obviously he’d never do anything real. He’ll just…freak you out a little. It’s Halloween night, after all. If there was any time for a spook and all that.

Roman holds the boxcutter tightly in his hand as he stands up. He leaves his jacket on the back of the chair, his phone on his desk. He shuts off the lights and follows after you, taking sure steps as he walks that first hall. He turns down the same staircase that you did and peers over the ledge where he can see that you’re running your way down. The door behind him shuts loudly and startles you, an excited giggle escaping your lips. He wishes he felt excitement like that too.

Roman guesses you’re about seven levels below the top floor where you started when you enter the closest door to yourself. He repeats the floor number to himself through whispers, pacing his way down the steps. Bits of his hair are falling out of place, tickling his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

Roman barges through the same door you entered and scans the dark room for your body. It takes him a second for his eyes to adjust, but he thinks he sees it - your shoe poking out from behind a desk as you crouch. He tiptoes closer to you, peering over more desks and boxes of paper to see if he can spot you, or if his mind is playing a trick on him. He curses when the floor creaks under one of his steps. “God - fuck,” he hisses.

You hear him in front of you. There’s quite a distance between you and him yet, but you’re a sitting duck just waiting here. In the trash bin under the desk you’re hiding behind you spot a plastic water bottle still a quarter full. Quietly, gingerly, you pull it out and toss it in the corner of the room so that Roman’s attention turns to where it clattered.

You crawl around the cubicle, then rise to your feet to move quicker. Roman inspects the water bottle, then the desk where he thought he saw you. His footsteps are getting louder, so you sprint as quietly as you can into one of the nearby cubicles, your back against the wall as you hold your breath.

With wide eyes, you watch Roman walk right past yourself in the cubicle. You feel giddy at the thought of winning this game, so giddy you have to cover your own mouth to stifle a laugh of excitement. You poke your head out of the cubicle a little and watch Roman turn to the left, then make a mad dash for the exit and sprint back down the stairs.

Roman had thought about going back to the staircase so that you’d have to meet him there, but he decided against it - the game doesn’t last as long that way. He lets you run down the steps so that you tire yourself out a bit and he walks the other direction until he’s standing in front of the elevator he promised he wouldn’t get on. Roman presses the button with the arrow pointing down and smirks to himself, flicking the switch of the boxcutter, poking the blade in and out, in and out. The elevator dings and the doors open, Roman takes it down to garage level.

He waits. Flicks the blade up and down, up and down.

That blue P for parking sign has never looked so beautiful. You catch your breath for a second at the bottom of the stairs, then look up to see if you can see Roman. He’s not there, but you don’t believe he didn’t hear you leave that one floor you played cat and mouse on. Maybe he went down a different staircase, he does know the building better than you do. After catching your breath, you cautiously open the door to the garage. Roman perks up when he hears the horn of your car beeping repeatedly as you unlock it, fidgeting with the button on your keys. “Fuckin’ obnoxious,” he mutters to himself, waiting for you to walk far enough away before pressing the ��door open’ button on the elevator so that you don’t hear the sound.

Relief watches over you as you make it through the parking garage, all cold and damp and smelling of concrete and oil, and no sign of Roman. You look around - It’s eerie in here, a liminal with its fluorescent lighting, but not quite bright enough to light up the dark atmosphere. Each floor is completely empty, save for your car. You smile as you reach your vehicle and open the back door, your heart pounding, exhilarated that you outran Roman as you toss your belongings onto the seat.

You feel it before you hear it. Warmth against your back, a bulge against your ass. A hand over your mouth, fingers and thumb harshly digging into the hollows of your cheeks. Your eyes widen as you squeal in fear and excitement.

Roman has you held tightly against his chest - he wins the game. But he realizes that he didn’t actually think this far. Didn’t think about what he’d do once he had you in his arms. If he’d catch and release, or if he has more in mind than that. As Roman contemplates, you start to squirm and panic - this has gone on too long. You don’t even know that the person holding you is Roman, so you thrash against him. It only serves to excite the man, to hold you tighter so that he’s hurting you.

“Hey, shhhh...shut up. Shut the fuck up. Stop - fuck - fucking squirming. It's me, okay? Relax. It’s just Roman.” The identification doesn’t calm you much. Something about him feels off. “Tag, remember? I got you. You’re it.”

Roman waves to you in the window opposite to your position, wiggling his fingers as he wears a bizarre smile, the shadows on his face making him look all dark and severe. There's something in his hand, too. Metallic and sharp-looking.You don’t register what it is until he presses it against your side and you can make out the object. A boxcutter. Roman threatens to push it further and you gasp, though with his hand over your mouth you don’t breath in much air. “I told you l’d fucking show you, didn’t I? Hey - didn’t I?”

Roman tugs your blouse up your torso, grazing the tip of the blade up and down your ribcage. You watch it happen in the window, tears springing up in your eyes. This doesn’t feel like a game, and if it is, you want no part of it. This feels...this feels scary. Roman’s taking it too far, and it feels real. A few tears roll down your cheeks, down the back of Roman's hand. You don’t wanna play this game anymore.

“Tears, huh? That didn't take long. Should check Guinness. See if you broke a record or something.” Roman lightly draws the blade over your skin, writing his name in sloppy cursive letters. R-O-M-A-N. He could press hard against your skin and his signature would be carved into you permanently. “I know, I know,” he whispers. “Are you regretting this?”

You nod. Roman's palm is becoming damp with your warm breath, your tears collecting between his hand and your skin. You try to pull him away from you so you can speak, but he holds on tighter.

“I asked you before if you knew what could happen to a girl like you in a parking lot like this. Wanna guess now?”

Only now does Roman remove his hand from your mouth, but he holds it just as tightly over your chest. You shake your head, “No,” you answer, voice wobbling. Good, Roman thinks. You want to scream, tell him that this isn’t funny. You’re scared and you want to be done with whatever this game has turned into. But you don't have enough of a voice to say anything but no. A quiet, pleading, shaky, and useless no.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Roman begins. “Some bad, bad man will snatch you up, just like this.” He gestures to you with the boxcutter. He smiles, “He’ll drag you somewhere nice and quiet, where nobody can hear you scream. Like this.” He points to the rest of the garage. “He’ll bend you over-” Roman keeps the blade at your side and forces you down, down so that your chest is pressed into the backseat of your car. He puts a knee on your back, trapped like an animal underneath him as he presses his weight into you. Roman bends over and pushes some hair out of your face, twirling it around his slender fingers. You struggle to breathe, both with his weight on your chest and your hyperventilating. He continues, “And he’ll have his way with you. Fuck any hole he wants, shit - maybe he’ll even make a new one. Like I’m gonna do with you, right?”

It’s here where you realize the game is over, ended long ago, and question if it was even ever a game to Roman. Your gut churns in anxiety, you feel like you’re gonna puke. Is Roman gonna fuck any hole of yours he wants, or is he gonna make a new one? But being paralyzed in fear, and all you can do is hope that this’ll all be over soon, or maybe it’s just a dream. You’ll wake up in bed all sweaty and sticky and out of breath, but you’ll shower away the thought of this.

“You could end up on the news tonight,” Roman taunts. “It’s a scary, scary fuckin’ world out there. You have no idea what some sickos are capable of.”

Roman considers what he wants to do to you. He could leave you here and you’d be sufficiently frightened for Halloween, be your real life slasher movie. But you’re so scared, so pliant, so devoid of all confidence and bite and spirit. Roman wants to continue to exploit that, beat it down.

He tugs down your pants until they’re around your knees, then slides the blade of the boxcutter beneath the waistband of your panties. You cry harder, panicking and choking on your sobs. “Shhh,” Roman shushes you, cutting the fabric of your underwear before ripping it off of you completely. “Deep breaths, sweetheart, don’t cry. It could be worse, you know? It’s not the real thing. It’s just a game. That’s all it is. We’re just playing a game. I am just trying to show you what’s out there.”

You thrash again. “Hey,” Roman snaps and smacks your ass hard enough to leave a print. He stands behind you, no hands on your body and impressed that you stay like that. Roman spreads your legs, exposing your cunt to himself. He slides the blade of the boxcutter back down and drags the tool up and down your folds, patiently waiting for you to become wet. “You don’t fight back much,” Roman murmurs. “Why is that? You’re just like, f- oh. Answered my own question. Fight, flight, or freeze. You’re a freezer.”

“I’m scared, Roman,” you whimper. “You’re really scaring me.”

Roman scoffs. “Oh, you’re scared? Imagine how scared I am, knowing some sick fuck could do this to you. Legitimately,” he adds. “It breaks my heart, honestly. You’re lucky I know what’s best for you, sweetheart.”

Roman puts the boxcutter into his pocket and touches you himself instead, first spitting on his fingertips before cupping your mound. He hums in sick satisfaction at feeling the pool of arousal at your core. “Do you know how fucking soaked you are? A worse man wouldn’t get your pussy wet like this. He’d fuck you dry. Think about how good you have it with me.”

Roman toys with your pussy, making lewd noises as he rubs it, taps it, cups it. You’re only getting wetter, but you won’t make a sound, instead biting on a seatbelt, tears falling from your eyes squeezed shut. You’re not so subtle, though. Roman notices the subtle rocking of your hips, whether you realize you’re doing it or not. “You’re allowed to moan,” Roman murmurs as he strokes your folds. “I’d really like to hear you.”

He gives you a moment to find your voice. He’d even take a breathy sigh, if not a cry of pleasure.

Nothing.

“I said,” Roman begins, brutally pushing just two fingers into your slick entrance, letting you feel how his bony knuckles stretch your pussy. It hurts, oh, Roman knows how it hurts you. “I want to hear you. You know how much I hate repeating myself.”

You let out a soft whimper in response, the noise landing somewhere between pleasure and fear.

“Good girl,” Roman praises, pulling his fingers out of you almost all of the way to admire the way you’ve soaked him, digits all coated in your creamy ribbons of slick. He pushes them back in and curls them repeatedly, brushing against that sensitive place inside you, the added pressure of being on your stomach intensifying it all. In the deepest part of you, you can’t help but to want more, another finger or maybe even his cock. And that makes you cry harder, and fills you with a unique sense of disgust you’ve never felt before.

Roman curls his fingers rhythmically in your pussy, twisting and spreading them, getting your cunt ready for him to fuck. He didn’t plan on doing you this courtesy, but again - Roman’s got that soft spot for you. That, and the slick, wet noises you make for him, the way your body looks all laid out on your backseat, goosebumps on your bare skin as you push yourself against his hand Roman’s not entirely ready to give this view up yet.

After a time, it’s over. Roman pulls his fingers from you and you whimper, choking on your quiet sobs. Roman wedges one arm beneath your stomach and pulls you up, then shoves your purse under you so that you’re propped up for him nicely. You summon the courage to look over your shoulder at what he’s doing.

“You’re in good hands,” he promises, meeting your gaze. His eyes are dead but wild like an animal, a little bit of sweat sparkling on his forehead, hair all out of place. Roman snaps and points, “Eyes forward. Now.”

He unbuckles his belt and takes his cock and balls out of his pants and underwear so that they’re resting over the waistband. Roman rubs his thumb over the sticky tip before squeezing the base of his cock, then pumps himself a little, working his cock to full length. He spreads your cheeks wide, slick hole puckering as you wait to be filled once more. “You’re a mess.” Roman slides his thumb up and down your gash. He gathers your arousal and pulls you up by the neck with one hand, then shoves his thumb into your mouth with the other. “Taste it,” he says. “You fucking want this.”

You barely have time to register the flavor of your own arousal before Roman’s pushing you back down again and lining up with your entrance. He gives you no warning before pushing inside you unceremoniously.

“Roman,” you cry, reaching for the seat belt to pull yourself away from him. Roman lets you pull yourself far enough so that his cock pulls out of you almost all of the way, then pulls you back down on it.

“You can’t run from it,” he coos, beginning a steady pace. “You have to take it. No use fighting.” He draws in and out of you slowly as he holds your hips and rubs circles into your skin. Still crying, Roman soothes you, “Shh,” he hushes, shoving his thumb back into your mouth. “You’re fine. I’m being gentle for you. A bad man wouldn’t fuck you slow like this, would he?”

To Roman’s credit, he is being gentle with you. His thumb feels unfamiliar in your mouth at first, but quickly becomes a comfort to you as you suck it, use it to pacify yourself. You stare at a fallen piece of candy on the floor and focus on the details of the wrapper, see what you can’t read to block out the feeling of Roman inside of you. I’m not here. This isn’t happening.

“Yeah, not so bad, is it?” Roman pants, hips rocking against yours as he fucks you in two. “You could have it worse. So, so much worse.”

Roman pumps in and out of you at a steadier pace now, so deeply and so intentional so that you feel all of him. His hand on your hip, squeezing you, the weight of his body as he slams into you in a non-rhythm, no fluidity at all. You’re drooling, slobbering on Roman’s thumb as he fucks you and all you can do is take it, every punishing thrust he delivers onto you.

For Roman, it’s becoming too much. He can’t keep himself together and release is inevitable. Roman knows time is moving slowly for you but if it weren’t, he’d be a little embarrassed at how quickly he’s falling apart. Figuring there's no point in staving it off any longer, Roman lets himself feel everything he wants to feel. He’s grunting, moaning, growling as he loses himself in your cunt. “Oh fuck, I’m - fuck, fuck you, fucking…bitch. Fuck.”

Roman’s stomach and balls tense as he quickly approaches his release, groaning loudly as he spills into you, coming so hard he feels dizzy. He pulls out of you to pump his cock through his orgasm, painting those last few ropes of his spend onto your twitching pussy. Roman leans against the driver’s side door of your car as you catch your breath on the backseat, still staring at that piece of candy. It’s over. It’s done.

When you prop yourself up on your elbows, Roman shoves you back down. “Nope, you stay there. I’m not done with you yet,” he says. “Gonna make you come for me.”

Another sob escapes your throat and you cry hard. “Please,” you beg. “I’ve had enough, Roman. I just wanna–”

“Go home,” Roman mocks your voice. “I know, I know, I fucking know. But I’m a gentleman, aren’t I? Would you prefer I leave you high and dry? Come on. Use your head.”

Roman drops to his knees, joints cracking as he gets into position. He spreads your lips and presses a kiss to your center, all swollen and covered in his come. He licks you from clit to asshole, then rounds the tight muscle with his tongue before dragging it back down. He moves his lips and tongue in tandem to bring you pleasure, working you steadily until you’re letting out those little whimpers of ecstasy.

Roman moves his face as he devours you, his scruff scratching your inner thighs while he licks all of his spend out of your hole. The sweet and heady taste of you and him together is addicting, the warm scent of your most private, sensitive place. Roman will smell you in his facial hair later and get himself off to the thought of this but for now, he focuses on making you come all over his tongue.

You buck your hips into his face as he eats you, Roman smirks at this. He moves lower so that he’s sucking your clit, causing your legs to shake at the sides of his head as he eats you like the first meal he’s had in days. He holds you firmly in his grip, nails digging into your flesh like he could rip it off your bones while his tongue swirls over your clit. You reach behind yourself out of desperation, searching for a part of him to hold onto when you come. Roman takes your hand in his, giving you a place to land.

You’re seeing stars. Climax is inevitable, and there’s no point in fighting it off. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. You stop swallowing your own moans and let yourself make noise freely, allowing the pleasure to build. It’ll be over soon.

You sob when you come, all that emotion breaking like a dam. Roman uses his tongue to fuck you through it, push you to the point of discomfort and overstimulation. Roman turns you over in the backseat and pulls you up, up to examine you. Face and eyes all puffy and swollen, soaked with tears. Body shaking uncontrollably. Roman pouts as he wipes your eyes, you poor, blubbering mess.

He helps you into the driver’s seat of your car, buckles you in and tightens the seat belt. Roman leans over you to reach into that bag of Halloween candy and grabs a pink lemonade flavored Starburst. Roman smiles, “My favorite,” he mumbles, unwrapping the candy and shoving it into his mouth. “Alright. Drive safe. Watch out for Michael Myers, I don’t know. See ya Monday.” Roman shuts your door and pats it twice, waving behind himself as he walks away.

TYSM for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog with kind thoughts or send me an ask or comment ♡

I know that usually I tag my Roman readers, but given how triggering this fic could be to some, I'm not doing that. I'll see you all next time with stepdaddy!roman ♡

#roman roy x reader smut #roman roy/reader #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy smut #roman roy #dark!roman roy #tw noncon #succession fic #kieran culkin #kieran culkin characters

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