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foli-vora · 1 year

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radio static

pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

a/n: this gif is a fucking mess but i refuse to fight with photoshop any longer otherwise i will literally throw my computer out of the fucking window. anyway. ep 1 got me all kinds of fucked up. enjoy some porn with very minimal plot.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: very brief mention of something happening but no details and no spoilers. swearing, domestic softness, couples banter, SMUT 18+ ONLY: oral (f rec), unprotected p in v, brief handjob, nipple biting, creampie

It’s a hazy roll of pleasure, the bliss swimming through your bloodstream and stretching out along your limbs in waves upon waves of static heat.

He’s taking you nowhere fast, instead choosing to take his time, bouncing between leisurely working at your clit with firm, wide strokes of his tongue and dipping lower to force the muscle into your cunt and taste you deeper.

The threat of the climb lingers in the pit of your stomach, curdling low in your core and twisting further with every slick hot swipe and circle over your swollen clit. He’s doing it on purpose, dragging out your pleasure and intent on making you beg for it.

Soon—the words are already building in your throat.

A small part of you, the very small part of your mind that stays aware of what’s going on beyond Joel’s mouth, picks up on the sudden halt to the soft music that had been falling from the speaker next to your head, but it’s not enough to pry your attention away completely, not until the words destruction and mass incident suddenly break through the fog of lazy ecstasy hanging over your mind.

Would that explain the increase of emergency vehicles you’d seen on the roads lately? Is something happening? The reporter didn’t seem to be too panicked, but that didn’t mean a whole lot. It was their job to keep the calm forced into their voices. Mass incident? Destruction? What could it all mean? Were you all in danger?

“Can you turn that up?” You ask quietly, now distracted from the lips that break away from your cunt and press along the heated skin of your thigh. “The news—”

“Jesus,” Joel mutters against you before pulling away and looking up at you, “I’m out here with my head between your thighs, and you’re listenin’ to the fuckin’ news? You tryin’ to tell me somethin’, honey?”

“No, it just sounds important is all. Just for a minute, baby—please?”

He huffs quietly against you.

Chuckling softly, you jerk away from the blunt edges of teeth that gently dig into your flesh with a startled cry and swat at him. His tell tale smile curls against your skin before he lifts himself up with a low groan, bracing his arms on either side of your torso and reaching over to turn the dial on his alarm radio.

You ache at the loss of his mouth, your clit throbbing from the sudden lack of attention. The desperate clench of your core is almost enough to shove him back down there and forget the whole fucking thing.

He couldn’t seem to care less about what they were saying, returning to licking and nipping at your skin, planting kiss after kiss along your collarbone and trying very hard to pry your attention away from the story falling from the speaker.

He succeeds for the most part, your eyes fluttering when a hot mouth encloses over a nipple and sucks at the stiffened peak firmly, his large calloused hand wrapping around the other and squeezing the supple flesh greedily.

The news… focus. What was that about injuries? God, who cares—

“Joel,” you sigh softly, winding your fingers through his ruffled hair and tugging at the dark tresses, “I’m trying to listen—”

“And I was tryin’ t’have a nice meal, but someone had other plans—the goddamn news,” he rumbles in rough amusement, grinning against your tit before tracing his way to the other side. “You just let me know when you’re done and I’ll get right back to borin’ you.”

“God, you’re such an ass,” you groan, unable to keep the growing smile from tugging at your lips and back arching from the teeth that pluck at your nipple, your features briefly creasing from the shock of delicious pain. “Oh fu—again—”

He does. He nips and bites until you’re squirming under him, your hands clawing at his shoulders. His next bite is sharper than the last and enough to tear a whine from your throat from the harsh force of it. The sharp sting shoots straight to your core, the muscles of your cunt tightening as heat continues to curdle in the pit of your stomach.

A slick swipe of tongue soothes the leftover ache, the muscle winding round and round the abused bud and all thoughts of listening to the stupid news leave your mind.

Your fingers tighten in his hair and pull, tearing him away from your skin and diving forward to meld your mouth against his. It’s messy the instant his lips part, the kiss full of tongue and teeth with the taste of your cunt still lingering and now melting into your tastebuds.

“Careful,” he murmurs into your mouth, grinding the thick, hardened feel of his covered cock against your core, “don’t want to miss the weather report.”

“Dick,” you moan softly, feeling the soft cotton of his sweats dampen as they drag against your folds, “you know damn well you weren’t boring me.”

His chuckle is low, merely a rumble in his chest, but it sticks in his throat when you slip a hand beneath his waistband and wrap your fingers firmly around his hard cock, the thick length of it swelling in your hold. His hips jolt, briefly thrusting into your grip, and you’re the one chuckling now, your lips curled up against the brush of his facial hair.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?”

You tighten your hold, brushing the pad of your thumb over the weeping tip, smearing precum over his smooth skin before starting a steady pace up and down his length.

“Fuck—” his face crumbles, eyes slamming shut as the little dent between his brows deepens. “Move your hand out of the way, pretty girl, m-move—”

His fingers shake as they bat your hand out of the way, the long digits quickly wrapping around his cock and giving it one firm pump before lining up with your entrance and pushing forward. You hide your face in his shoulder, muffling your moan against his hot skin as his balls press tight against your ass.

“So fuckin’ warm,” he rasps into your throat, bracing himself on his elbows and encasing you into the mattress. “So—fuck, honey—”

He gives another thrust, pulling halfway out before rocking back forward, soon finding a steady rhythm that has you clutching at his back. The sounds falling your lips are caught on skin, the remaining sound of the muted cocktail of whines and groans dampened by the music now playing again.

“Joel, baby—” you breathe, running a hand along his throat and brushing a thumb over his lips as he works your body higher, his pubic bone rubbing and pushing against your aching clit with every upwards thrust, “—I love you.”

He physically shudders at your words, the cage of his arms hot and familiar. He nods, mouth hungry and messy as it tries to claim yours and you’re desperate to match his energy. The bed starts to give a creak with every steady plunge of his hips, and his hand flies up to clutch at the headboard, his biceps tensing with the effort he puts into silencing the bed.

“I—s-shit—I love you,” he pants, the hot breath of his sharp exhales washing over your mouth. “I’m not—I can’t—fuck, play with yourself, honey—p-please. Make yourself cum, show me—”

His thighs roll up beneath yours and soon he’s rising away from you to kneel, keeping a hand locked around the top of the headboard and using it as leverage to thrust up harder into your cunt. It’s takes every bit of energy to not fucking wail, one hand flying up to brace yourself and the other falling to where your clit throbs.

He watches, frown heavy and focused, as you press the pads of your fingertips to the swollen nerve, the muscles in your thighs twitching and tensing with the delicious attention.

It takes only a few circles of your deft fingers to send you over the long built up edge Joel had lazily built in your core, your face turning to hide in your outstretched arm to quieten your sounds of pure fucking bliss. He soon follows after you, urged on by the flutter and tightening of your hot walls around him.

The muscles along his jaw tighten with the effort he uses to keep quiet, his face creased and lost in his own waves of ecstasy as he fills you. Your cunt tightens around him one final time, the warmth of his cum soon seeping out from where his cock disappears into you.

He drops onto his back next to you, automatically raising his arm to welcome you into his side and you press into his body heat, pressing a wet kiss to his chest and trying to calm your breathing.

“Shit, were we too loud?”

You chuckle quietly, rest your chin over the hand splayed over his chest. “She sleeps like her daddy—she wouldn’t have heard a thing.”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“That you guys are heavy sleepers, and it’s a surprise your alarm clock actually wakes you most of the time,” you grin, the curl of it widening when he rolls his eyes.

The steady blink of his clock catches your eye and you soften, stretching to press a sweet kiss to the corner of his lips, feeling them twitch at your feather light touch. He sighs calmly under your affection, his dark eyes openly searching yours and warming when you catch him.

“Oh, would you look at that,” you murmur softly, “happy birthday, handsome.”

i was gonna start all diff tags but i really cbf right now. i’ve just used my everything pp one - if you’re not interested soz x

tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @Karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @ms-loverman-066, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1, @tintinn16, @iceclaw101, @bport76, @thatpinkshirt, @tusk89, @withakindheartx, @curiouskeyboard, @pedropascalsx, @sirpascal, @racetrackheart, @timpletance, @titabel, @xdaddysprincessxx, @dnxgma, @astronomeoww, @dindjarinswhore, @alwaysdjarin, @mando-amando, @mx-ferelden, @trinkets01, @jxvipike, @thesmutslut, @thereisaplaceintheheart, @scentedthingtidalwave, @mwltwo, @loveslide, @artsymaddie, @untitledarea, @sukunababe, @emiemiemiii, @your-slutty-gf, @wisecolornight

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader

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wileys-russo · 1 month

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hihi idk if youre taking requests but i had an idea for leah kinda inspired by sockgate (💀)

so basically r plays for arsenal and theyre having kit photoshoots but the kit person accidentally forgot r’s (obviously the photoshoot isnt in colney) so she has to wear leah’s kit because r’s number is 5 and leah’s is 6 so it would be easier to edit and change the number like on the shorts (just say they didnt take any photos of her back because it would be too hard to change the name or something) ANYWAY leah is eating it up seeing r in her kit (especially if it’s like kind of big on her)

and then idk how you want to end it but maybe after the edited pictures are posted, leah cant help herself and also posts the original ones where you can see it’s her kit or something

love your writing <3

the sockgate trauma...never again the new number 6 II l.williamson

"leah catherine if you make us late again you're sleeping on the sofa tonight!" you yelled out impatiently, checking the time and rolling your eyes. "two minutes babe!" your girlfriend called back as you groaned in disbelief.

"they're dressing us and doing hair and makeup there leah, what is taking you so long?" you dropped your bag to the ground and stomped off to the bedroom. "no don't come in i'm-" you pushed open the door and your eyes widened at the sight in front of you.

"tell me that you are not doing a soduku right now." you spoke deathly calm, eyes locked with hers and narrowing. "would that make you feel better?" leah questioned with a charming smile, sat on the corner of the bed.

but the tinkling of her game gave it away as your eye twitched slightly and leah laughed nervously. "leah, i will be waiting in the car. if you do not join me in exactly two minutes, that thing you've been wanting to do?" you stated as leah nodded along.

"you can do it to yourself and this-" you gestured to your body. "-will be off limits, for a week." you warned seriously as leah scoffed and went to speak.

"a whole week williamson, shift it!" you cut her off sternly, turning on heel and marching out of the bedroom hearing your girlfriend trip over with a curse in her haste to hurry.

"ah fuck." you heard a thump and before you could even open the car door leah was skidding to your side, grabbing it for you. "after you darling." she grinned as you hummed and slid inside, tossing your bag in the back as she hurried around to her side.

"babe why aren't you dressed?" leah frowned as she returned to the change rooms, having finished with her own media promotion and asked to let you know they were ready for you now.

"they didn't bring my kit. there was a typo on the schedule and they thought less was coming so they've got 23 and not 5." you sighed in explanation as your girlfriend took a seat beside you.

"they just told me to wear your kit, 6 is easier to photoshop to 5 since its one number and not two like 23 is." you shrugged as leahs eyebrows shot upward. "leah." you sighed tiredly at the familiar look which settled on her face as she sat down beside you.

"be an adult and go change, now please." you ducked away from her arm which attempted to slip over your shoulders, standing up and crossing your arms across your chest. "have i ever told you just how sexy you look when you're pissed with me?" leah sighed with a dopey smile.

"yes. you make a point to remind me every time you grovel after you've pissed me off!" you threw a towel at her head and sat back down at your cubby. "no, go change baby." your foot shot up to press against her as she stood and attempted to get closer.

"reminds me of a different position baby, one i quite like." leah grinned wolfishly as she pulled your leg to sit on top of her shoulder and kissed your ankle with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"you already made me late once this morning and you're doing it again. go and change leah please!" you groaned pulling your leg back and sending her a stern look.

"i know you think this is going to work but this whole annoyed look-" leah wiggled her fingers at you "-is just making it all the more harder to leave you." leah smirked as you rolled your eyes and exhaled deeply.

"alright alright! i'm going. a girl knows where she isn't wanted!" leah spoke dramatically clutching at her chest, ducking down and stealing a kiss. "unless you'd like me to just change here and we can-" leah started to suggest but a dead panned glare had her grabbing her bag and hurrying away toward the showers.

"here you go then sunshine." a bundle of clothes hit you square in the face as you'd started to daydream only a few moments later, leah changed back into the clothes she'd arrived in.

"you are so-" you stopped yourself, leah sending you a smirk and sitting down on the bench. "eyes and hands inside the ride at all times williamson, i'm on a schedule." you warned as you started to strip off and change, feeling your girlfriends gaze locked onto you.

"leah!" you huffed as you pulled her shirt down over your head and her hand smacked against your ass. "what? it slipped babe." leah shrugged with an innocent smile as you rolled your eyes and pulled on her shorts having to roll the waistband a little so they didn't hang so low, already having your boots and socks on.

"wait! you're missing something." leah shot to her feet as you fixed your hair and turned to leave, pausing with a raised eyebrow. your lips couldn't help but curl into a small smile as leahs own pressed sweetly against them.

"sap." you teased, pecking her lips a few more times before heading out of the change rooms hearing her follow after you. "behave leah." you warned seriously as she held up her hands with a wink and you pushed your way into the media room.

"well well well if it isn't our newest number six!" beth teased as she finished up and immediately noticed that you weren't in your own number. "call me vice captain." you grinned, hugging her as you swapped positions and she spoke briefly with your girlfriend before leaving the room.

"so we're mostly shooting graphics for the screens and the lineups today, some celebrations, some serious shots. we'll do everything forward facing since there was some...issues, sorry about that again." jessica the marketing and media admin smiled apologetically.

"you're just lucky i was around to save the day jess." leah chimed in as jess shot her a playful glare and stepped back, calling out a few poses as the photographer snapped away and you moved between the different backdrops.

much as you tried your hardest to stay focused there was no avoiding the shit eating grin plastered on your girlfriends face as she sat back with arms crossed, eyes laser focused on your every move.

leah wasn't shy about how much she adored you, that was given by the constant teasings of the pining looks she threw your way during trainings or the not to subtle kisses she stole what felt like every few minutes.

leah was even less shy about how much she adored the sight of you in her clothes. early on in the relationship she did find it somewhat frustrating how you'd sneak off with her hoodies or shirts or pants hidden away in your overnight bag.

but seeing you wander around colney with what leah knew was her nike hoodie covering your top half had something stirring in her stomach she couldn't ignore.

your girlfriend by nature could be possessive, though most times it never came from jealousy knowing you were just as much as infatuated with her as she was with you, but rather that solidifying assurance that you were hers.

so as she sat there seeing you take picture after picture wearing her name, number and jersey leah was grinning ear to ear and there wasn't much which could be said to wipe it off.

"all good?" you questioned once it seemed things were wrapped up, sending both him and jess a thumbs up and stepping away, boots clacking against the hard cement floor and shaking your head at the look on leahs face.

"don't say it." you warned, snatching your jacket out of her hands and making a beeline out of the room as she hurried to follow you. "leah!" you laughed as she caught up and grabbed your hand, pushing you against a wall.

"you're like a horny teenager." you chuckled against her lips which immediately ravaged yours, her hands gripping your hips as you cupped her face and deepened the kiss.

"baby girl you know what it does to me to see you in my clothes, let alone wearing my last name on your back." leah pulled away and shook her head, making a mind blown gesture with her hands causing you to laugh again and shove her.

"we're at work miss williamson, be professional." you booped her nose and darted away as leahs kiss met thin air and she watched you dissapear into the change rooms.

"oh but miss williamson all my thoughts right now are strictly unprofessional." leah sang out happily with a cheeky grin as you shook your head. "no ring, no wife." you patted her cheek and held up your empty hand causing leah to now shake her head.

"oh no no no, no need to change my girl." leah swiftly grabbed your bag, stuffing your clothes back in and slinging it over her shoulder, holding out her hand for you to take with a sly smile.

"its time for me to make our new number six feel very very very welcome."

#woso community #woso #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt

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buryustogether · 11 months

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lilac - chapter 2

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: a pre-work visit to the bank goes horribly wrong.

wc: 4.7k

tags/warnings: unhappy relationship, gun violence, bank robbery, blood, scars, stripping, pole dancing, sexual fantasy, semi-public sex, praise

author’s note: yeah he got me fucked up

They called him Spiderman.

He appeared seemingly from thin air overnight - specifically, the night you’d stayed late at the school to watch Gabriella O’Hara until her father could pick her up. They were hailing him a vigilante, a hero, an aggressor. No one could quite seem to agree on just what he was other than supernatural. Like the multiple self-titled supervillains who had taken over your city without someone to stop them, he possessed abilities no regular human was capable of. Shooting webs from his wrists, climbing walls, moving and propelling himself at unimaginable speeds. He was something unimaginable.

People theorized, over the week since his city-wide premier on shaky cellphone footage and breaking news coverings that interrupted regular shows, that he had escaped from a cage in Alchemax. How else could they explain his powers? They couldn’t. Others said he was an alien. Some said he was a fake, said that the clips that captured him beating the absolute shit out of car thieves and back alley thugs and would-be kidnappers, were all photoshopped with a fancy computer and an advanced program.

Either way, no matter where he’d come from or what he was, whether he was a do-gooder or another villain searching for glory, no one could deny that what he did was incredible.

It was too bad some people were out to get him despite what he was doing for your city.

“He’s a menace!” shouted the anchor of the news show playing in the bank’s lobby. J. Jonah Jameson’s voice brought a migraine to the front of your head, one that wouldn’t go away with just simple ibuprofen. You tried to block him out as you waited in line for a teller, attempting to focus instead on the story your boyfriend was barking in your ear on your phone. Your attempt was unsuccessful. “He’s just another villain trying to have his five minutes of glory in the sun. He’ll burn out just like all the others; Doc Ock, Kraven, the Vulture… Please, people! Wake up and take a deep breath of reality! He’s not helping the citizens of New York - he’s getting in the way of our police!” He fixed the camera with a hard, stony stare that made you look away when you saw one of his eyes twitch. What in fuck did that dude put in his cereal every morning? “Spiderman is just another villain. Give him another week, and see where he ends up.”

You felt your lips tug down as you turned away from the television and moved up in line. What a sad, pathetic city you lived in, where someone attempted to use whatever powers they had to do good and got blasted for it instead of praise. God knew New York needed all the help it could get. With the highest crime rate in the country, who would turn their nose up at what little help was offered to them?

Dickwipes, that was who.

“Hello?” shouted the voice on the other end of the phone you held up to your face. You jumped slightly and pulled it from your ear, earning yourself a few strange looks from the other people in line. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry, babe,” you exhaled into the speaker. Blocking out the television and the rest of the distractions in the bank, you upped the volume on your phone. “Just kind of busy at the moment. I’m in line at the bank, and then I’ve got to catch a taxi in this fucking traffic and haul ass to work before class starts, and -”

From his end, Ferris released one of those breathy sighs that he did when he wanted you to stop speaking so that he could talk what was on his mind. You knew the sound well - well enough to shut your mouth and swallow thick. “Could’ve just said it was a bad time,” he grunted, then made the noises of switching his phone to his other ear. You recognized the sounds of his deft fingers fiddling with his guitar strings. God, it seemed like he never put that fucking thing down. A part of you suspected that if your apartment was on fire, he would run to save his instrument before you. “Listen, I’ve got practice here in a while. I’ll let you get back to whatever’s so important.”

Ignoring the pang that resounded like a thunderclap through your ribcage, you nodded your head despite knowing he couldn’t see you. “Uhm, okay.” You hesitated, then added, “Oh, before you go to practice -” you heard him sniff - “could you put away the dishes in the sink? I started the cycle this morning before I left, so it should be -”

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Bye.”

“Oh, okay, bye. Lo-” Before you could finish, you heard the familiar click of the other line being hung up. You stood still for a moment, feeling a little numb at your fingers, before slowly pulling your phone from your face and pressing that bright red button to hang up your end. Trying to keep your expression neutral, you stepped forward in line as it moved.

Maybe once upon a time, you and Ferris had been happy together. Maybe… satisfied was the right word. Settled. There to fill the void when you needed someone. Saying ‘I love you’ was never a column to lean upon in your relationship; it was only mumbled under breaths during sex and rare moments when both of you were in the mood to not be so completely alone. But that wasn’t often. He was too busy with his band, spending whatever money from his gigs that he received at whatever bars he trolled when he claimed he was cleaning up after shows. You were too busy teaching your kids during the day and teasing and smiling desperate souls at night, putting lousy paychecks and crumpled tips toward keeping your rent paid and food in the pantry.

The girls at The Menagerie asked you why you didn’t leave him, kick him out of your apartment and change the locks. You couldn’t ever come up with a good reason. Maybe it was because if you did, six months of your life would be down the drain. Maybe it was because if you did, you’d be more alone than you ever had in your life.

You didn’t have anyone besides Ferris. Your parents, shit - they were a lost cause. The girls at the club all had separate lives. And your kids at the school - you had to let them go every afternoon, walk out that door without a glance back.

If you let Ferris go, you would have no one.

Stuffing your phone back into your purse, you held your head high, refusing to let anyone else here see just how deep the cracks in your foundations were. At last, you were called up to the next available teller.

Your heels clicked and clacked along the polished tile floor, the bright yellow dress that you’d bought for yourself for a school spirit day swishing about your ankles. You felt like a sore thumb in this dull, brown-and-white building that was just aching to be updated. Old, vintage chandeliers hung from the high-arched ceilings, illuminating the golden bars the tellers sat behind. Benches with creaky leather occupied the center of the lobby, accented by matching chairs and little desks that bankers in starched collars met with clients at. It was all black and white, neutrals and dark tones.

Greeting the teller behind the gate with as bright a smile as you could muster, you opened your mouth to say hello. Yet just when you began to push the syllables past your lips, your world shattered like porcelain meeting concrete.

Sunlight like a torch in a dark tunnel flooded the bank as a small line of figures crowded into the bank. At first, no one paid them any mind. Then shots like the deafening cracks of fireworks right beside your ear sounded from sleek black rifles into the ceiling, and screams filled the echoey chambers of the building. You immediately dropped and covered your head, breath leaving your lungs like the air had been slammed from your chest by a sledgehammer. People cowered behind the cushions and desks, scrambling for cover as another round went through the roof.

“Everyone put your hands on your heads and take a seat on the ground,” came a booming voice from the figure at the head of the group. There were four of them, a small team who wore identical kabuki masks and black tactical gear fit to be seen on military personnel. “This is a robbery. Not a killing spree, not a kidnapping - a robbery. We ain’t looking to hurt anyone today, unless someone tries to be a hero. No sudden moves. You all follow directions, and you’ll be home in time for lunch.”

Unable to pull in a new breath, you slid to the ground and placed your hands on top of your head. You watched, eyes wide and fingers trembling slightly as the men began to make their rounds to the tellers, plopping wide, fat bags on the counters and demanding money from beneath the desks be placed inside. One took up a stance just beside you, forcefully shoving his bag to the man behind the bars and commanding him to pull out the stacked bills. The teller at once complied, dropping thousands of dollars as sweat began to bead at his temples.

Holy goddamn fucking shit. Holy fuck. You knew this city was dangerous - hell, you’d sit back night after night at home and watch on the news as cars were jacked and people were taken hostage. You’d just never thought it would happen to you; of all the millions of people in this city, you’d never thought it would be you. And yet here you were, hunkered down against a countertop as your bank was robbed with you at the throbbing heart of it all.

And you were all alone.

The man in the mask beside you took a glance down when your trembling brushed up against his leg, his head tilting slightly in a demented way that made his mask look haunted. You were suddenly reminded of your own mask that you wore for work, of the ones the other girls wore, and you were struck with the realization that, perhaps, you and he were not so different. You both wore masks to hide your faces, holding out your hands and moving to a particular kind of dance in order to snatch money right out of pockets without batting a damn eye.

Then again, when you danced, you didn’t hold an automatic rifle strapped to your shoulder.

“Give it to me,” said the man above you. You were barely able to understand his words through his mask.

Your heart skipped yet another few beats as you tried to register what he was saying. Give it to him? Give him what? “What?” you managed to say over the lead in your throat.

He nodded his head to the space beside you, and you whipped around. Your purse lay on its side next to your thigh. He wanted your purse; your wallet. Your money. Everything you had - which still wasn’t much. But you couldn’t give it up.

You looked back up at him while he switched his gaze between you and the teller, who was still busy filling the bag with cash. “No,” you said, and when he snapped his gaze to yours, you added, “please. I don’t have much, I don’t have anything compared to this place.”

The man in the mask turned away from the teller to grip his rifle tighter, tilting it slightly so that it was level with your leg curled up against your chest. “I’m not going to ask again, lady.”

Just as your hand began to scrabble for the purse laying beside you, knocking around a few papers and loose change that had fallen out, the man was struck in the face with a mass of white substance that clung to his mask. He cried out and dropped his rifle, hands flying up in an attempt to pull the stuff from his eye holes. You watched, frozen in place, as another masked man across the lobby was stuck to a countertop by his hand with another mass that appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Before anyone else could react, a dark, sinewy figure dropped from the arched ceilings overhead and kneeled on the tile just a few feet from where you huddled. When they stood up straight, your breath hitched in your throat. It was a man, donned head to toe in a blue and red suit that popped with color here in this bleak interior - like your yellow dress. His face was covered with a mask, the only indication of an expression beneath that surface retractable eye lenses that narrowed as he took a glance around the ceiling.

Spiderman exhaled a nearly inaudible huff. “Some things never change.”

From that moment, the bank was painted into a picture of chaos. The masked vigilante expelled a pair of webs from his wrist to slingshot himself across the lobby, landing a jaw-cracking blow to one of the robbers who tried to raise his rifle. The fourth, the last one still able to move, cracked off a number of shots that sent people scrambling and wailing out. The blue and red suit shot off tiny sparks as lead collided with its bulletproof material, nothing but pebbles against a mountain.

Spiderman huffed again, a breathy little chuckle this time. “Cute.”

In the next second, that fourth gunman was sent flying into a marble wall, sliding down onto his face to reveal the large crack his spine had put in its surface. The last two men were taken down quicker than you could have blinked. The second, his hand still stuck to the countertop, didn’t stand much of a chance when webs ripped his own rifle from his grasp and struck him across the forehead with a sickening crack. And the man who had demanded your purse - he’d only just gotten the white mass of sticky stuff off his mask before the vigilante slung across the room, grabbed him by his vest, and raised a gloved hand capped with three-inch long claws. “It’s impolite to threaten pretty ladies,” he growled in a voice that, for some reason, despite the situation, made your stomach churn a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. He swung the robber toward you where you sat on the ground, that clawed hand gripping his jaw to force him to keep your eyes. “Apologize - like a gentleman. And maybe I’ll think about letting you keep your trigger finger in one piece.”

By now, with the gunmen either unconscious or being held against their will, almost everyone else in the bank had gotten to their feet and bolted out the front doors. In the distance, sirens wailed and tires screeched. And yet you remained where you were, staring up at Spiderman as he tightened his grip on the man’s jaw. His claws drew tiny dots of blood along his skin. “We’re waiting,” he said in a breathy murmur.

The gunman inhaled a high-pitched, shaky breath and turned his eyes to you from behind his mask. “M’sorry,” he stuttered over his own terror.

The vigilante leaned closer, his eye lenses narrowing. “Sorry for what?”

“M’sorry for threatening you,” came the pathetic cry in response that almost made you pity him. Almost. “It - it won’t happen again, I swear.”

For a short moment, the two men stared at you. One was praying that you accepted the apology, prayed you were going to call off your savior in spandex. The other was waiting for your decision, waiting to see if you accepted such a sorry excuse for a ‘sorry.’ Swallowing the large lump in your throat, you wordlessly bobbed your head in a nod.

Spiderman hummed and turned his head so that his mouth would be close to the robber’s ear. “Seems the lady’s feeling generous today. Consider yourself lucky.”

He spun the man around with those claws of his, and the robber’s gloved hand reached out in a blind panic and grabbed onto the vigilante’s suit just where his neck met his broad shoulders. He dragged the spandex down accidentally as his head was slammed against the marble countertops, giving you perhaps a one second-long glimpse of dark, tan skin and a small scar across his collarbone. Then the man’s grip relaxed as he dropped to the floor and he released the material of the suit, allowing it to snap back into place.

You jumped slightly as the would-be robber collapsed in a heap of limbs and tactical gear beside you, your dress riding up on your thighs slightly from how you sat with your knees huddled to your chest. Before you could think to do much else in this mind-boggling moment, Spiderman was standing before you and offering a hand to help you to your feet. His claws had shrunk back into his glove - or, perhaps his own nails - and his upturned palm suddenly looked oh so inviting. It floored you in the most alluring, gut-clenching way how those very hands had just brought four men within an inch of their life, and yet now they were softer than empty promises just for you.

“You alright?” he asked as you took his hand and stood. “Sorry you had to get caught up in all this.”

He talked to you in such a casual way, like the pair of you had met before, that you could do nothing but stare and clutch your hands to your stomach as he scooped up the fallen items from your purse, dropped them back in, and handed your bag to you. Numbly, you accepted it.

“You’re safe to walk outside now,” he assured, towering over you like a damn stone column. Fuck, his voice was sexy. Low and tipped with a rolling accent. You wondered, in that moment, why it sounded so familiar. “The police should be arriving any time. They’ll just ask you a few questions and send you on your way.” As if he understood that you were frozen in place, he touched your back, turned you around, and urged you toward the front doors that were now flooded with red and blue lights from the squad cars outside. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

You had just barely mumbled a barely-audible ‘okay’ before he was gently guiding you out the doors, and then suddenly you were alone, facing down three dozen cops and a truckload of SWAT soldiers.

They asked you exactly what happened in that bank. They asked what you were doing there, what time the incident occurred, who in the hell could single handedly take down four aggressors with automatic rifles and bulletproof vests? They knew the answer, and so did you. But you told them anyway.

“It was Spiderman.”

And no matter how fucking hard you tried, how much you urged yourself to forget about them and focus on the here and now, you were unable to get that masked vigilante out of your head. You thought about him on the rest of the way to the school, because god knew there were far too few teachers in this city and you couldn’t have gotten a substitute even if you tried. You thought about him while your coworkers, the other teachers, all gathered around you in the breakroom and demanded answers and stories from your little incident that morning. You thought about him while you planned out your day with numb fingers and toes, and while you stood out front and welcomed kids in, and even when Miguel O’Hara appeared to drop off Gabriella safely at your side.

It took a few words out of his mouth, past those gorgeous full lips of his, a quirk of one of those thick brows, to finally bring you out of your stupor. “I’m sorry?” you said when you realized he had asked you a question. You felt your cheeks warm and your palms become sweaty as you begged his pardon.

To your relief, Miguel only smiled slightly and placed a hand on his jutted hip like he did. God, why did he have to do that? Draw attention to the perfect ratio of his body, a beautiful slope from his wide shoulders to his trimmed waist? “Just asking if you were alright,” he repeated himself, and you could have sworn his eyes flitted over you while he spoke. “Heard you were caught up in that robbery down on Fifth.”

“Oh… right.” You cleared your throat and watched as Gabriella spotted a few friends and dashed into the school to meet them, her backpack wagging behind her. “Yeah, I’m alright. Now that it’s over, I realize it didn’t even last that long. Maybe five minutes or so before… before Spiderman showed up.”

“Yeah?” He reached up his other hand to scratch at the underside of his chin, where the delicate skin of his throat was. Your eyes followed his movements like they were a magnet and you had no choice but to watch. Even if you did have a choice, you would have watched, anyway.

You nodded your head once, clasping your clipboard with your kids’ names on it to your thighs over your dress. A breeze blew over Washington Elementary, letting the yellow fabric dance and blow up to your knees. They were scuffed from kneeling on the hard tile floor this morning. “Mmm-hmm. He’s… not like I imagined him,” you admitted, then realized just what you were doing; talking to Miguel O’Hara, the main star in every single one of your late-night fantasies, about the man who had quite literally swooped in and saved your ass. “But, anyhow… No one got hurt. That’s what matters.”

The corners of Miguel’s lips quirked upward ever so slightly, showing off a tiny flash of his white teeth. It then occurred to you that you’d never seen him smile fully - only with a closed mouth. “Well,” he said, and lifted his hand an inch or two, almost like he was going to touch your arm, then stopped himself and lowered it back down. “I’m glad you’re safe.” There came a fraction of a second of tense, charged silence between the pair of you before he added, “Don’t know what we would do if something happened to Bri’s favorite teacher.”

Bri - you’d never heard him call her that before. It was always a full ‘Gabriella.’

Behind you, in the school, the bell rang, signaling the final five minutes before class started. You glanced over your shoulder, feeling your heart sink slightly at the realization that you would have to leave the conversation. “I’d better -” You allowed your sentence to fall away as a number of squad cars came rounding the corner across from the school, sirens wailing and tires squealing on the tarmac. Other vehicles on the road pulled over to let them pass as they blew through a red light; whatever was happening, it must have been serious. But wasn’t it always.

“Heh,” you chuckled gently as you began to turn back to Miguel. “Always something happening, ri-”

He was gone. Vanished, seemingly, into nothingness. No car to watch pull out of the lot, because he walked his daughter to school, and no trace of his hulking, towering form down the sidewalk outside the wrought iron gates that surrounded the building. He’d completely and totally disappeared.

Damn, you thought as you blinked a few times, gripping your clipboard, and entered the school. What an enigma he was.

That night at work, as you spun yourself around and around on the pole center stage in various twisted shapes and contortments, you found yourself divulging in yet another one of your little fantasies. You shut your eyes as you tensed your leg and gripped the pole to send yourself around in a tight, flashing circle that made the train - that your boss had specifically instructed you to wear while you were in the spotlight - flutter and whip like golden water pulled across a current.

You pictured Miguel seated in the leather chair closest to the stage, his chin propped on his forearms where they rested across the edge of your runway. You imagined the neon lights playing tricks and dirty, filthy, irresistable illusions in the gleam of his eyes, following your movements around and around because no matter how many times you did the same cheap trick, he would still watch it as if it were his first time seeing it. You thought of kneeling down in front of him even though it was against the rules to get too friendly with customers if they weren’t going to pay to see you up close, and of gently taking the point of his chin in between your fingers so that he was tilting his head up to look at you.

Fuck, you thought of him taking you on that fucking stage after the place was closed, hovering over you with your legs locked around his hips and your hands gripping the wrists pinned beside your head so tight your knuckles paled. You swore that, even in your little scenario, you could feel his breath fanning across your face as he leaned down to murmur in your ear through his huffs and lustful, breathy sighs.

“Such a good girl, takin’ it all f’me. Pretty girl, pretty baby. All mine. All mine.”

You opened your eyes and forced yourself to return to reality when you felt yourself being watched. Of course you were being watched - there were dozens upon dozens of eyes surrounding your stage, watching from behind the porcelain gaps in their animalistic masks. But there was another sensation of being stared at that didn’t quite fit in with the rest of them, one that sent a certain kind of shiver down your spine. Keeping in time with your routine and the music thrumming through the floorboards of the club, you peered deep into the wide atrium in search of whoever was fixing you with such a gaze.

You found it.

He was standing nearly in the shadows where the lights couldn’t reach him, arms crossed tight over his chest and stance firm so that everyone who looked at him knew to never even think of invading the space he’d claimed for himself. The man was tall and sinewy with muscle, but you had to squint to see his frame clearly through the dark and the dress jacket he wore. Over his face, the edges obscured by the slicked-back mess of dark hair atop his head, he wore the club’s one and only spider mask.

It was a specialty disguise, one that only the top rollers and highest bidders of the evening bribed their way to at the front room. It usually signified that whoever was behind the porcelain wanted attention, wanted drinks to come nonstop to their side tables, wanted every girl in the damn house on their lap and at their feet. And yet, this evening’s spider was nothing like that. He clung to the shadows, to the perimeter of the room, like he didn’t want anyone to know he was there. He took up no more space than necessary. He was practically a no one, despite the delicate, fractured-looking design he wore over his features.

And he was watching you dance like he was mesmerized, like if the doors were chained shut and the place was burning down around him, he’d be content to stay where he was and keep his eyes focused on your body.

When the man realized you had spotted him, that you were staring right back at him through the gaps of your monarch mask, he moved. You nearly wanted to cry out, to tell him to wait, that you weren’t done. But you couldn’t.

So instead you continued to dance, continued to watch him as he flowed through the other patrons toward the exit. Yet when he turned in just a particular way to avoid bumping into a server, you saw it; through the unbuttoned top pair of buttons of his dress shirt, you spotted it, you were able to catch a glimpse of a pale, raised scar running along his collarbone.

The very same you’d seen on Spiderman.

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick

(strike through means your blog could not be tagged.)

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #atsv

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somekindofpoet · 11 months

Text

Missed Connection 6

Summary: A flight delay causes a chance meeting between R and Jenna Ortega

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW! smut, language

A/N: I'm aware the Barbie timeline doesn't match up but tbh it was so funny I couldn't not do it. I stayed up way too late writing and editing this so there are 100% going to be mistakes here. Heed the warnings above...happy Pride month you filthy animals <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

A stack of papers is slapped on the desk in front of you, the force of it fluttering your hair. Jenna’s hand is on your lap, gripping your fingers tight.

Sam’s office is larger than you thought it’d be, more extravagant. Proof of her success hangs on the walls, degrees, photos of her clients, a picture of her with Obama. It smells like leather and jasmine, and it screams prosperity right in your face.

Clearly, Sam is excellent at her job. Which is probably why she’s fuming right now.

“Have you two seen this?” She asks, gesturing at the stack of papers.

You wince, glance down at the top page. You fight with all your might not to snicker. Jenna’s fans were clever and bloodthirsty. You succeed in not laughing, but as soon as Jenna sees the photograph, she snorts, quickly covering her mouth, her eyes wide and apologetic.

The pages are screenshots of memes from Twitter and Instagram. The top one is a photo mimicking the new Barbie movie posters of her and Ken’s mugshots. The problem? The faces have been replaced. With yours and Jenna’s.

Jenna’s photo is brilliant, possibly one you took from the Met Gala. She’s smiling from ear to ear, looking proud of herself. Above the photo is her name, and below it, in the photoshopped mugshot board, the text says ‘UNDERAGE DRINKING’.

Yours is your actual mugshot, and you’re half amused, half furious that someone dug it up. Your name is above the photo, and on your mugshot board it says ‘ASSAULT’. It’s amusing, but the funniest part is the tweet attached to it.

“Y/N could assault me any day, no one’s blaming you Jenna babe!”

When the screenshot was taken, there were over 300k responses to it. You’re sure that number has tripled now.

Jenna reaches over, her eyes bright with curiosity, and flips to the next page. It’s filled with replies, most of them agreeing with the original tweet. When you see the one at the bottom of the page, you lose your battle to remain collected and join Jenna in her giggling.

“Jenna better be careful. Y/N has an assault charge and she can fuck it up, I can tell. If I were her I’d be extra protective of my pus-“

You don’t get to finish reading it because Sam slaps her hand over the page, glowering at you.

“Oh come on, Sam,” Jenna says between laughs, “they’re so funny!”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, “They’re vulgar, and it’s hurting your image.”

You glance at Jenna, your laughter quickly quelled by Sam’s irritation. She huffs and slouches back in her chair, her hand pulling away from yours to shrug.

“Change my image then.”

Sam presses her fingers over the bridge of her nose, an action you’ve deemed to be her signature move when she’s speaking to Jenna.

“The goal was to avoid the child star gone wild trope, J. You’re killing me.”

“Sam, please,” Jenna scoffs, dropping her arm to rest behind your shoulders, “it’s not like I’ve gone full Miley. Maybe it’s time the world realized I’m an adult now.”

Jenna’s arm over your shoulder and her fingers softly grazing your back through your shirt have you entirely distracted. It’s been a week since you confessed your crimes to her, and you’ve been practically inseparable since. She worked with Sam, and they chose to post a photo of the two of you to her Instagram, casually announcing your relationship.

Since then, the internet and the media have exploded. It didn’t take long for the tabloids to publish your rap sheet, but luckily Sam had a plan for that. The day your misdeeds were printed, a ‘mysterious’ leak was also posted about why you had an assault charge. The large media groups tried everything they could to scold Jenna for dating you, but her fans went absolutely feral for you.

So feral, Sam was worried it was getting out of hand. Hence the meeting in her office.

“J, your mother is going to actually murder me. And you can kiss any teen movies goodbye,” Sam says, pulling the papers back toward her as she notices you eyeing them again.

Jenna nods, “That’s fine with me. I don’t want to play sixteen-year-olds anymore. And you don’t work for my mom, you work for me. I’m sure she’ll love Y/N when she meets her.”

You blink hard, gulping at the thought of being introduced to Jenna’s family. Luckily she’s too focused on Sam to notice your nervousness.

Sam sighs, “You’re right, I work for you. So I’m telling you, we need to do something to get them off this,” she gestures at the pictures, “and on to the next thing.”

“What do you have in mind?” Jenna asks, leaning forward with interest.

Sam scratches her chin, “Not sure yet. But I’ll call as soon as we come up with something. Until then, please, for the love of god, keep it PG.”

You can tell Jenna wants to fight her on that point, so you rest your hand on her knee, coaxing her down. She glances at your hand, biting her lip. Looks over at you and nods at Sam.

“Fine, PG. Got it.”

Sam eyes you warily, “And you?”

You frown, taken aback, “What about me?”

“PG, understand? No funny business, no brawls-“

“Sam!” Jenna exclaims, but you smile and squeeze her leg gently.

“I understand. These hands will remain inside the car at all times.” You say, lifting your hands to show Sam your palms.

She narrows her eyes at you. You can’t tell if she’s fighting a smile or if she wants to strangle you. Probably a bit of both, you figure.

“Alright, go on then,” Sam flips her hands at you, shooing you both out of her office.

The minute you’re in your car, Jenna is pulling you over the center console, her lips practically fused to yours. The last week consisted of several dates, a lot of kissing, and some heavy petting, but you hadn’t had sex yet.

You both agreed to take things slow, especially after the background check mishap. But it was becoming exceedingly difficult, especially when every touch caused both of you to jump into overdrive.

You pull back, and Jenna whimpers, her arms still tight around your neck. It takes everything in you not to lean back in, not to crawl into the passenger seat and strip her down, paparazzi be damned. But you promised Sam, and you’ve already done enough to tarnish Jenna’s good girl reputation.

You chuckle, press a quick kiss to her pouting lips, “We promised to keep it PG.”

She pouts harder, allowing you to pull yourself a little further out of her grasp, “What if I had my fingers crossed?”

Her sulking makes you really laugh, shaking your body with giddiness, “I would not be able to sleep at night if I knew your mother might see pictures of us having sex in the car on the streets of Hollywood, Jenna.”

Her expression lights up, her fingers trailing down your arm igniting goosebumps on your skin, “So you were considering it, though.”

Your eyes widen, you shake your head, “No…I…uh.”

She quirks a brow at you, her smile telling you she sees right through your mumbling.

You drop your head, smiling bashfully, “It may have crossed my mind.”

A full smile breaks across her cheeks, her dimples on full display. You know your eyes must be something close to pitch black at the sight, your mind subconsciously trying to take in as much of the image as physically possible. She leans back in her chair, still smiling, pulling your hand into her lap as you drive away from the curb.

You’re anxious to get home, the promise of a movie night on your mind—the possibility of moving your relationship a little faster even more present.

There’s tension crackling between the two of you the entire drive back, unspoken but understood. When you lead her into your front door, you’re half expecting to be shoved onto the nearest horizontal surface. It may have happened, too, if not for Mr. Burton.

The second Jenna walks through the door, he comes bounding off his shelf, his black tail held high, and his ears pricked up. The cat had fallen for her, he seemed to enjoy her even more than he tolerated you. It would make you jealous if it weren’t so damn cute.

“Mr. Burton!” Jenna cries out, scooping him up and holding him on his back like a baby.

He purrs happily, pressing his head into her chest, his front paws curled under his chin. You’ve never seen him so docile. It makes you laugh softly, earning a glare from both Jenna and the cat.

“Don’t laugh at him,” she says, “he’s just a baby. Aren’t you?”

He meows on cue, and it’s enough to make you roll your eyes and leave them in the entry way. You settle into your couch and turn on the tv, flipping through apps and searching for something good to watch. It’s only noon, but you had no other plans, so a movie sounded like the perfect way to spend the afternoon close to Jenna.

She carries Mr. Burton into the living room and delicately places him on his cat tree with a kiss on the top of his little head.

“I think he loves you more than me,” you say, feigning irritation, but your soft smile gives you away.

Jenna curls into your side on the couch, smiling triumphantly, “Of course he does.”

You gaze down at her, “Can’t blame him, I guess.”

She wraps her arm around your waist and rests her head on your shoulder, “What’re we watching?”

Your cursor hovers over the Scream franchise, “Let’s watch this one.”

“I love the first one!”

“No I want to watch the ones I haven’t seen yet,” you say, squeezing her side.

She shoot’s up, reaching over to steal the remote from you. You hold it out of reach, laughing at her terror.

“We can’t watch those ones, y/n. Seriously! I’ll crawl out of my skin if I have to see myself on that screen.”

“Awh come on J, I haven’t seen them!”

She scoffs, reaches across your body for the remote again, “Absolutely not. Watch them when I’m not here.”

You laugh around your words, teasing her, “No, I like to watch Wednesday when you’re not here. Have you seen her? Good god, she’s sooo-“

“If you finish that sentence, I will walk out of this house.”

She’s fully leaning over you now, still struggling to wrestle the remote from your outstretched arm. It’s cute, watching her struggle, or it was at first. Now she’s in your space, you can smell her perfume, and you’re rapidly losing interest in watching a movie. She realizes her proximity at the same time you do, stopping her struggle to turn and look down at you.

The remote hits the floor when she climbs into your lap, her knees on either side of your legs. Your breathing picks up as your heart begins to pound. Her eyes are dark, her lips parted. She blinks once, so slowly it’s like watching her move in half time.

The tension between the two of you snaps almost audibly, and everything gets very hot, very fast. Her hands are everywhere, her mouth on yours, her body pressing into you. You slide your fingers under her shirt, her skin warm on your palms. When she sighs into your mouth, it’s like you’ve just swallowed absinthe, the way it makes your entire body burn.

Her shirt hits the floor faster than the remote had, and your lips leave hers in favor of her throat. She pulls you into her, pushing her hips forward hard into yours. You both groan at the pressure she’s creating, igniting the pace like gunpowder.

Your kisses grow sloppy, trailing down her neck and over her chest. You’ve both abandoned taking it slow at this point. All you want is fast, fast, fast. Her pants are unbuttoned, and your shirt is halfway off your head when her phone rings.

You slow your movements, glancing over to it, buzzing on the couch next to you.

“Ignore it,” she says, breathless and pulling you back to her lips.

It stops ringing, and you’ve nearly forgotten it because she now has your shirt off and her lips on your neck. And it rings again.

She stops her lips and growls into your skin. The effect the sound has on you is embarrassingly immediate. Your fingers press into her sides, trying to relieve some amount of the pressure building in your lower abdomen.

The phone rings again, and she sighs, sitting up and reaching over to grab it. She stays in your lap, and you sit there dumbstruck, watching her analyze the phone.

“It’s Sam, I’m sorry,” she says, rolling her eyes and answering the call.

When she presses the phone to her ear, the skin of her chest is far too tempting to resist. You lean forward, kissing her there as she drops her head back, not stopping you.

“Hello?” She answers, a little breathy. “Sam, it’s not-“ she gasps as your lips travel to the top of her bra, but she still doesn’t stop you. “It’s not a great time right now.”

The hand that isn’t holding the phone runs across the back of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair and keeping you in place.

“Speaker? Seriously can this wait like, a few hours?”

You pull back, your eyebrows raised. A few hours? The thought sends you into a whole other gear. When you start to lean forward again, she pulls her hand from your hair and places it on your chest, stopping you. You look up, and her face is more serious, she shakes her head.

You want to pout, push your lip out like a child at her self control. Instead, you stay where you are, waiting. Hoping the call ends soon.

It does not. She pulls the phone from her ear and taps the speaker phone button.

“Okay, you’re on speaker, she can hear you,” Jenna says, her tone clearly irritated.

“Great,” comes Sam’s voice, “we’ve come up with the plan.”

When neither of you speak, she carries on, “You’re going to Coachella.”

You frown in confusion. What did Coachella have to do with anything?

“I know, my sisters are coming with me,” Jenna says.

“And so is y/n. It’s the perfect way to get people talking about the two of you, hopefully without mentioning the mugshot. And they’ll get new pictures which should put them off on a new tangent.”

All you heard was that you would be meeting the Ortega sisters. Anxiety courses through you, nervousness at the thought of being introduced to the family. Jenna sees it cross your face and rests her hand on your shoulder, her thumb rubbing your neck. She looks down at you, awaiting your answer.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask, wide eyed and clearly anxious.

“No,” Sam says, “pack your bags. You’re going home, J.”

——

The entire two hour drive to Coachella, you’re a nervous wreck. Your hands sweat, your heart beats wildly, your mind races.

Jenna being in the passenger seat helps, some. She spends most of the ride assuring you her sisters are going to love you. The other parts of the ride, she’s asleep with her hand wrapped in yours and her head knocking into the window every time you hit a pothole.

When you pull into the hotel parking lot, you gently shake her awake.

“Hey, Jenna, we made it.”

She lifts her head, blinking sleepily. She squints out the windshield, eyeing the hotel.

“Mmkay,” she says, then proceeds to rest her head back against the seat and fall asleep again.

You chuckle, your heart growing at least three sizes at the sight of her sleepy face. You turn the car off and climb out, pulling your bags from the trunk and leaving them near the passenger side. You open her door and squat down, shaking her again.

“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re here. Let’s go get checked in.”

She grumbles, yawning and stretching, “Okay, okay. This bed better be as comfortable as your car.”

You finally drag her to the counter, shocked at the lack of a crowd around the hotel. No one knows she’s here yet, or you would have been swarmed on your way in.

You wait close behind her, waiting your run to check in. Once the receptionist pushes over the key cards, Jenna hands them off to you, still bleary eyed. She starts to head for the elevators, but you call after her.

“Are you going to wait for me to get my room?” You ask her.

She frowns, jerking her head back, “You have the key right there.”

You look down at the key, look back at her. The puzzle finally falls into place.

“Oh…oh. We’re sharing a room.”

“Do you not want to?” She asks, running her eye with her knuckles.

“I…I…I mean…if you want to then…I’m okay with it.”

She smiles, rolling her eyes playfully, “Then let’s go.”

You follow her like a puppy on a leash through the hotel lobby and into the elevator. She sways, still heavy with sleep. It’s only 9 PM, but she looks ready to collapse. You pull her into your side, letting her lean into you, and she wraps her arms around your waist, resting her head on your chest.

She beelines straight for the bed before the door even closes in the room. You settle the luggage in the armchair and at the door of the bed and wander to admire the suite.

“This place is so nice,” you say, mostly to yourself.

“Yeah, you can appreciate it tomorrow. Come lay with me, I’m so tired.” Jenna whines from the bed.

You turn and see she’s made herself comfortable over the blankets, resting high on the pillows. She stretches her arms out, reaching for you. Who are you to say no to her?

You kick your shoes off and climb onto the bed, letting her pull you over to lay on her chest. She runs her fingers through your hair, humming quietly.

“Thanks for driving. I don’t think I would have made it.”

You snort, “You were asleep before we even got halfway.”

She hums in agreement again, “Car rides are my weakness, I can’t ever stay awake.”

You don’t respond, just smile. Her shirt is soft on your cheek, her nails scratching lightly at your scalp.

“Are you still nervous about tomorrow?” She asks you.

You close your eyes, nodding against her silently. It’s hard to feel anxious when she’s scratching your head, her heartbeat steady in your ear, and her breathing lulling you into a peaceful relaxation.

“Don’t be anxious, baby, they’ll be nice. I promise.”

Your eyes shoot open, your heartbeat ticking a notch faster. You push yourself up on your elbow, picking your head up to look at her. She smiles curiously at you, trying to figure out what caused you to move.

“What did you just call me?”

Her face turns the most gorgeous shade of pink as she realizes what she’d said. She bites her lip, looking a little unsure.

“Do you not like it? I’m sorry I can-“

You don’t let her finish her apology. You’re on top of her in less than a blink of an eye, your lips on hers in a frenzy. She’s quick to respond, her hands sliding up your shirt and her nails scratching at your back. You sit up and pull the shirt over your head. You don’t plan to slow down, but the look on her face gives you a moment for pause.

She looks perfect. Absolutely, perfectly divine. The freckles across her nose and cheeks, the stray hairs hanging in her face, her soft brown eyes, and her lips. Oh, the things you would do for those lips.

Your admiration is cut short when she pulls you back into her, almost rough in her haste. You’re not sure when her clothes come off, somewhere in between your tongue slipping into her mouth and her lips pressing into your neck. It’s all a lust fogged haze, cloudy in your mind until you’re naked and your stomach is pressed between her legs.

You want to go slow, savor the moment of your first time together. You want to go fast, rush into the ecstasy that is sure to come. Your indecision is dissolved when she rolls you onto your back, taking the control out of your hands.

You think you might be dreaming, when she trails kisses down your ribs, her hands gripping your thighs. Normally, you’d feel uncomfortable being so out of control, but the look in her eyes is enough to keep you planted.

She kisses the inside of your leg, looks back up to lock eyes with you, “Is this okay?” She asks, her voice low.

You gulp, nodding. You can’t trust your voice not to crack, so you keep your mouth shut. But it doesn’t stay that way for long.

You gasp when she presses her lips to your clit, and you nearly black out when she licks an exploratory stripe through you. She wraps her hands around your legs, her hands squeezing the tops of your thighs as she licks you, sucks you. She moans between your legs, and you see stars, your fingers reaching down to intertwine with hers.

It would be embarrassing, how quickly you’re writhing underneath her, if you had the wherewithal to care. But you don’t, and your back is arching off the bed, and your fingers are squeezing hers, and your throat is raw from how heavy your breathing has grown.

You’ve wanted this for longer than you care to admit, and it’s even better than you’d imagined. With a breathy sigh, you’re cumming under the pressure of her mouth, turned to absolute putty in her hands. She kisses her way back up your body and you’re flipping her over before the shivers of your orgasm have even left your bones.

Any inclination to savor the moment is burned away by the flames raging in your stomach. You have to have her. Now.

The kisses you trail down her body are hasty, sloppy, hurried. You’ll enjoy the expanses of her skin later, right now, you only have one thing on your mind.

The sound she makes when your mouth meets her is like the origin of the universe. It’s unexplainable, it’s perfect, and it’s all for you. You want to split apart, give her every piece if she just keeps making those sounds.

Her hands are in your hair, tugging at your scalp. You reach up, your palm running up her arm, asking her to be patient while you enjoy her. Your lips wrap around her clit, and you suck. She lifts her hips into you, seeking more from you. She’s unraveled and greedy, and it’s everything you hoped for and more.

She whimpers when you lift your head to kiss her thigh, hips lifting again, wanting. Your finger dips into her entrance, and you look up at her. Before your eyes even find hers, she’s already nodding, pulling at you. You push a finger in and ascend, your lips crashing into hers as you feel her tight around you. You give her a second before adding another, swallowing her moans when they leave her mouth.

She feels so good around your fingers, you wonder if it’s even possible that she’s enjoying this more than you. But the way she squirms under you, and her nails raking down your back tell the gospel truth of her pleasure.

She jerks her head away, gasping for air. You lick at her pulse, kiss the sweet and lightly salty skin of her neck. Her chest presses up into yours, her nails digging into your skin, her groaning in your ear. Her orgasm is intense and long, and it has her sighing your name between inhales and exhales. It’s the most moving hymn you’ve ever borne witness to. It’s poetry.

She slumps into the bed, and you’re close behind, falling over on her side. You’re both silent for a while, gathering yourselves and slowing your breathing.

After a few minutes, she rolls over, half her body resting on yours. She presses a kiss to your sternum before placing her hand there and eating her chin on it. You smile down at her, still high on your bliss.

“I’m calling you baby every single day from here on out,” she says, her voice practically a sigh.

You lean down, kiss the top of her head, “Clearly, I hate it.”

She giggles, kisses your neck, and sighs again. She settles in on your side, you can feel her eyelashes flutter closed on your skin. Her breathing evens out so fast you’re in awe at how quickly she falls asleep.

You ruminate on the events of the night, hanging on to every detail as long as you can before you’re falling asleep too.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #missed connection

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faithshouseofchaos · 8 months

Text

ELEVATOR CHAOS

Summary— While touring around Europe things take a turn when you get stuck in an elevator with a group of F1 drivers…

I’ll also probably end up rewriting this 🤷‍♀️

Pairing— multi-driver x reader

Drivers mentioned Danny Ric, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Seb Vettel, Kimi Räikkönen

Charles Leclerc Carlos Sainz Pierre Gasly

You and your friend should have known not to plan your trip to Italy at the same time as the Italian Grand Prix but your friend instead said “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance you never know what or who you’ll run into” she always says. You truly loved the experience of Monza Italy, but what you didn't love was the Ferrari fans. You had to give them credit, the two drivers were pretty good drivers and easy on the eyes. No matter where you went the drivers were there signing autographs and taking pictures but it was a little too much for you, Formal one was never a big thing in the States so you were just tired and overstimulated and wanting to go to bed but the universe had other plans.

You and your friend finally made it back to your hotel after a long and stressful day. You were ready for bed. “Come on y/n it wasn't that bad. You're being dramatic,” your friend says, turning to look at you while waiting for the elevator. “I beg to differ, I just want to lay down,” you say stepping into the elevator that had arrived. The first time you noticed was the group 8 of men and in that group of 8 men, two of them were the root of all your problems from today. “Great,” you said under your breath and pressed the button for your floor. “Just relax, it's only for a few seconds,” your friend Jay says as you lean against the wall the elevator jolts to a complete stop you stand up waiting for the doors to open which never happens “no no no no oh come open up please” you pleaded under your breath on the verge of tears. “Is your friend alright?” One of the men asked “Oh yeah she’s fine she’s just had a long stressful day I’m Jay” your friend said as you continued to press the button. “Sebastian,” a man with blonde hair, a German accent, and a kind smile says introducing himself

“I’m Charles”

“I'm Pierre”

“Carlos”

“Lando”

“Max”

“Daniel”

The group of men went around introducing themselves. You noticed how Sebastian smacked the bigger blonde on the arm. The big blonde man introduced himself as Kimi before he returned his intense gaze to the floor. Your friend nudges you saying “Are you gonna introduce yourself or are you gonna stand there?” “Do I have to?” You asked “Yes because it’s the polite thing to do,” Jay says lecturing you. Sighing you introduced yourself “I’m y/n,” you say looking back down at the floor “So you one too huh?” Sebastian asked Jay, pointing to get at me as the other guys chuckled. “yeah despite the nasty case of resting bitch face she’s wearing right now she’s a kind lighthearted person but as I said earlier she had a rough day” Jay said, “Oh why the rough day?” Lando asked “Because of your friends in red here,” I said pointing to the culprit “What did we do?” Charles asked, “Well let’s see I got picked up by a mob of fans and carried away I had to walk about an hour back to my car, there was also a bunch of people camped outside of the hotel singing lullabies and Happy Birthday to the both of you, I was forced to get down on my hands and knees today to pray to your face photoshopped onto the body of Jesus Christ and last but not least I’m missing one of my shoes.” I say pointing at my feet “I'm sorry about the fans they can get carried away especially when this is the home race for Ferrari” Carlos says “It's funny because the Ferrari car this year is a piece of shit and not to mention the strategy and pit stops” Max said.

“Well, now that you got that out of your system do you wanna talk about it?” Daniel asked “Oh y/n don't talk about her feelings,” Jay said, speaking up “Yeah if I needed to talk about my feelings they would be called talking,” I said Kimi must have found that funny because he chuckled. “Okay, how about we pass the time and get to know each other?” Pierre asked, wishing to break the tension in the elevator. “Oh yes let's do two truths and a lie,” Jay said excitedly “I'm not playing,” Kimi remarked “We wouldn't have expected you to play,” Sebastian said to his friend. “Okay, I guess I'll go first, 1. I have dual citizenship between America and Italy, 2. I have four younger siblings, and 3. I'm a Sagittarius”. I say to the group “Is the first one a lie?” Lando asks “Yes the first one is a lie although my mom was visiting Italy four months before she had me I was born December 6th and my sibling's names are Jackson Gracie Ellie and Sammy” I say explaining.

45 minutes later

After playing a few rounds of Two Truths and a Lie everyone decided to get comfortable Kimi was using Sebastian as a headrest, Max and Daniel were also resting their heads together taking a nap, Lando was watching something on his phone with Charles, Pierre, and jay were talking in French getting to know each other some more and you were drifting in and out of consciousness using Carlos as a pillow who was also asleep. “Wow this is shocking she never does that,” Jay says “What do you mean Sebastian asks “y/n doesn’t let people get close like that she doesn’t like being touched or having her personal space invaded it must be his puppy dog eyes she always had a weakness for that” Jay says “That’s just Carlos he has that magic touch about him you just can’t help but be pulled in he's a good man” Sebastian says. Eventually, you were woken up by someone shaking you “Hey come on get up we're free the elevator is fixed” Jay said helping you stand up. “Oh thank god I need to piss harder than a racehorse,” you say not realizing that the guys wouldn't understand the analogy “I'm so confused,” Max says “She needs to be badly Max didn’t you read that book of Southern sayings I got for you,” Daniel said shaking his head “oh that makes sense,” max said following his friend by standing up. “You know what this day may have been pretty shitty but y'all are pretty cool, and I apologize for snapping at you two earlier,” I said apologizing to Charles and Carlos “We understand we all have bad days we get it,” Charles says. The doors finally opened up and everyone poured out into the hallway going to their rooms to retire for the night you included but what you didn’t see or hear was your friend giving your number to the Spaniard “Hey Carlos here’s Y/ns number you should use it jay” said handing him a piece of paper with your number on it “oh you sure she didn’t seem that interested in me?” He asked hesitantly “Oh trust me amigo you are her type you're older than her and you got those sad puppy dog eyes that make her weak in the knees like I said there’s her number you should use it I gotta go before she notices” jay said walking away.

Checking your phone or last time before bed you noticed that you had a text from an unknown number.

UNK- so I heard that you have a weakness for older men with sad puppy dog eyes.

You- who is this And who told you that???

UNK- it’s Carlos and your friend told me.

Y/n- 😳😳 she’s not wrong tho…

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yourfriendlyengineer · 3 months

Text

Somebody please take Photoshop away from me.

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stan pines #grunkle stan #gf #gravity falls memes #shitpost #why did i do this

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 1 month

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMAb4KUo/

Smut w biker Ethan Landry ?!

Hi💕 I hope you like it! I got out of the hang of writing over the last few days so I might go back and make a few changes once i re-read over this at some point lmao

Roll Up - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This Contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Your boyfriend's new hobby scares you, but he shows you it isn't that bad.

Contains: Oral(f receiving), p in v, rough-ish sex.

A/N: We're going to pretend that this isn't based off of the photoshopped pics of Jack lmao. If this sucks, don't let me know. I'm sensitive👉👈

When your boyfriend mentioned getting his motorcycle license, you thought he was crazy. You even created a power point presentation, showing him how dumb of an idea it was. He just rolled his eyes every time you made a good point, because he knew it was what he was going to do regardless.

“You aren’t going to break up with me if I get a bike, are you?” he asked, putting on his shoes as he got ready to go take the driving test. “I think it’d be a lot of fun to have one.”

“It’d take a lot more for me to break up with you…but what if something happens to you? I’d just be worried the whole time you were out,” you sighed, getting a little anxious.

You heard a knock on the door, as Ethan walked away from you to answer it. You took a deep breath when Chad walked in, carrying his extra helmet for Ethan.

“Why’d you have to corrupt my sweet boyfriend?” you asked, as Chad smiled at you.

“I think you’ll like it…Tara does,” he said, smirking at Ethan as he handed him the helmet.

“Yeah, what if I get one and you can’t keep your hands off me?” Ethan asked, cocking his eyebrow as he looked at you. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, and I’d not like to hear the sound of your eulogy being spoken,” you said, as Ethan scoffed.

“You’re so overdramatic,” he said, walking over to kiss you. He placed a kiss to the tip of your nose, your lips, and your forehead before he pulled away. “I love you, baby. Wish me luck.”

“I love you, too,” you said, as both boys walked to the door. Ethan stood in the doorway for a minute, waiting for you to hear the other thing he needed you to say. “Fuck it, fine. Good luck. Please, just be careful.”

“I will, babe,” he said, chuckling as he walked out.

One thing about Ethan was that the second he got an idea in his head, you knew he was going to stop at nothing to get what he wanted. This was by far the scariest thing he’d ever wanted to do, and you’d done nothing but panic whenever you thought about it.

It all started when Chad brought Ethan to his friend’s garage, and they were talking about Chad getting his license. At first you laughed it off, thinking it was about Ethan wanting to have more in common with his best friend, but once you saw him browsing for bikes online, you realized how serious he was about it.

Once he got his learners, he started to spend more time with Chad and his friend. He’d lay in bed with you until you fell asleep, then sneak out of the bed once he’d get the text from Chad that he was outside. You hated it when you’d roll over and he wasn’t beside you, but you wanted him to practice when there were a lot less cars on the road.

He was always in the best mood when he’d come back home, still feeling the adrenaline. He tried to be quiet when he snuck back in, but you always woke up. You’d jump out of bed once you heard the shower cut on, strip off your clothes, and join him in the steamy bathroom. He’d tell you all the things he did and new stuff he learned as you sleepily listened, but it always ended in the hottest shower sex you’d ever had.

You kept checking the time on your phone, wondering what was taking Ethan so long to get back home. It’d been a few hours, and you were trying to prepare yourself. As worried as you were for him to get his license, you knew you’d be excited for him. But the possibility of him not getting it worried you more than if he did. You knew how much he wanted it, and you knew he’d be upset if he didn’t get it.

Once you saw Ethan’s name and picture flash across your phone screen, you quickly answered the call.

“Hey, babe,” you said, “How’d it go?”

You heard traffic passing him and sirens off in the distance.

“Come outside, I want to show you something.” You could hear the happiness in his voice, and you kind of had a hunch about what your boyfriend had done. Once you made your way down the stairs of your apartment complex and saw him standing there, a helmet under his arm and the matte black bike behind him, you didn’t know how to feel.

“I guess you passed,” you said, your eyes squinting as the early afternoon sunlight hit them just right. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“I can still tell you’re mad,” he teased, as he leaned down to kiss you. “but thank you.”

“This is yours, isn’t it?” you asked, as he tried to fight off the excited smile.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t hate me because I didn’t talk to you about it first,” he said, reaching around and grabbing the extra helmet off the bike seat. “I want you to go on a ride with me.”

“Absolutely not,” you said, his smile dropping at your words. “Not right now, can we go out later tonight? I’m a little scared and I’d feel better if I didn’t feel like we were going to get hit.”

“Of course,” he said, his smile appearing on his lips again. “I think you’ll love it.”

“Whatever you say,” you said, as he grabbed your hand and led you inside.

As it got darker outside, Ethan got more excited. He knew how close he was to taking you out to see what made him almost as happy as you do. As much as you were freaking out, you knew he’d never put you in danger, and you really wanted to know what the big deal was.

“Okay,” Ethan said, as you slipped your hoodie over your head. “Just a few quick things…I know it’s a little scary, but you need to lean into any turns we take. Don’t ever let go of me and sit as close to me as you can.”

“If we lean, won’t you lose control?” you questioned, as he shook his head.

“We’re not doing anything crazy so don’t think I’m going to take you on any super curvy roads…but if you stay upright when we need to lean, that could cause me to lose control.”

“Okay,” you sighed, as he handed you the helmet.

He looked you over to make sure nothing on you was loose fitting and made sure your helmet was good before he slung his leg over the bike.

“You coming?” he asked, his hand reaching out to help you on.

“There’s not a lot of room back here,” you said, as he slid his helmet over his head.

“I already told you, just hold on to me, and stay as close as you can. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his words a little muffled. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said, as he started the bike. Your arms tightly wrapped around him, his hand rubbing against your thigh to let you know he had you before he pulled off.

He took you on a few of the streets he first learned how to drive on, not wanting to freak you out too much. Once you came to a stop light, he started to yell over the hum of the bike.

“You okay?” he asked, his hand moving to rub against your thigh again.

“Yeah, you aren’t going very fast, though,” you yelled back, as he started to laugh to himself.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, “I just didn’t want to scare you.”

“You can go faster, just don’t kill us,” you said, as the light turned green.

He revved the engine before he sped off, going significantly faster than he did before. You didn’t feel scared though, you were…turned on? You weren’t sure if it was the vibrations coming from the bike, or how hot your boyfriend was at that moment, but you knew you were going to jump him as soon as the two of you got back home.

He started to drive out of the city, taking you to one of the back roads he’d always pull off at with his friends. He stopped in the gravel area and helped you off the bike before he got off.

“Was that too much?” he asked, pulling the helmet off of his head. You quickly pulled yours off, mumbling a “No” as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. Your hands went up to his curls as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip to deepen the kiss. You stood there making out, the only light coming from the full moon and the glow of the headlights.

“We need to go home soon,” you said against his lips, “I understand why you always want sex after your late-night rides.”

“We’ll head home soon babe,” he said, his hand reaching down to squeeze your ass as he pulled you closer. “Or…we could do it right here.”

“I know this is a back road, but someone could still see us,” you said, glancing at the road for any other cars off in the distance.

“So what?” he asked, as his lips moved to your neck.

He pulled away once he heard the familiar loud hum heading up the road, slowing down a little once it got closer to where you and Ethan were.

“Is that Chad?” you asked, as Ethan nodded.

“Tara’s with him,” he said, noticing her tiny frame tightly clinging to him. “Good think I didn’t get you naked yet,” he laughed a little, thinking about how awkward that would’ve been.

“You know how I am when I want sex and I don’t get it,” you said, giving him a warning look. “Please don’t get caught up in talking for too long.”

“I won’t, babe,” he said, as Chad pulled in and took his helmet off.

“She didn’t kill you!” Chad yelled, as you rolled your eyes.

Ethan walked up to him as you walked over to Tara. She had the biggest smile on her face when she saw you standing there.

“Ahh! We can go on late night rides together, now!” she said, pulling you into a hug. “Isn’t this fun?”

“Yeah, I thought it was going to be scary,” you said, glancing over to Ethan to see him smiling at you. “Now I just have to convince him to take me home soon.”

“I get it, I feel the same way,” she said, picking up on your suggestiveness.

When Ethan walked around to you, he looked a little nervous as Chad motioned for Tara to get back on the bike.

“I hope you don’t mind, but Chad wants to ride around for a little bit. There’s this straight, flat road near here that we like to go way faster than we should, but if you’d rather go home, we can.”

“As long as we go home soon, I’m fine with it,” you said, as Ethan started to smile.

“Put your helmet back on,” he said, walking you back over to his bike.

He slid his over his head and helped you get on the back before he started it again and took off. You got a little confused once you hit a certain point in the road. Chad and Ethan both came to a stop on opposite sides, as you felt his hand grip your thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, the question making you nervous as Chad gave him a thumbs up.

“Yeah,” you yelled, as he said, “Hold on tight.”

He revved the engine again before taking off, going way faster than he’d gone before, at least while you were on the back. The way you were rested against Ethan made it easy for you to see that Chad was keeping pace with him before he dropped a gear and flew past Ethan. Ethan did the same, your grip on him getting even tighter as you felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins. He quickly caught back up to Chad and passed him before he started to slow down a little.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, once he came to a stop and your grip on him relaxed.

“If you don’t take me home and fuck me, I’m not going to be okay,” you said, as Chad pulled up beside you and pulled his helmet off.

“Fuck, that thing’s fast,” he said, as Ethan pulled his helmet off.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect it. We were going over a hundred,” Ethan said, your eyes going wide as you listened to him speak. “I’m going to take her home.”

“You coming back out later?” Chad asked, as Ethan shook his head.

“No, I have other plans,” he said, as Chad nodded.

“You guys have fun. Don’t be an idiot,” Chad said, putting his helmet back on before speeding off.

“Over a hundred?!” you yelled, as Ethan started to laugh.

“Yeah, and I wasn’t going as fast as I could’ve,” he said, putting his helmet back on. “Let’s get you home.”

As soon as he got you home, you both were so needy. Various clothing items were scattered across your apartment, from the front door to the bedroom you shared with Ethan. He wasted no time, burying his head in between your thighs as soon as he pushed you back on your bed. Your fingers ran through his curls as soft moans slipped past your lips. His hands were kneading at your thighs as his tongue swirled around your sensitive clit.

“Use your fingers, babe,” you gasped out, as he suckled on your clit. He did what you said, sliding two of his fingers into your soaked, dripping pussy with ease. “Fuck, just like that.”

“Did being on the back of my bike turn you on that much?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours as he curved his fingers to brush against that spongy spot inside of you. “Yes,” you said, letting out a low moan. “You were just so fucking hot.”

His mouth went back to your clit as you tugged at his curls, the sounds of him fucking you with his fingers and your moans filling the room. His free hand was roaming your body, from your thighs up to your breasts. Once he started to pinch one of your nipples, you felt that familiar feeling starting to build inside of you.

Ethan knew you were close. Your legs were starting to shake as his fingers moved against your g-spot faster. He sucked your clit into his mouth, hard. Your back arched up off the bed as you pulled his hair so hard that it hurt. He didn’t let up though.

You let out a whimper as the feeling washed over you, your pussy fluttering around his fingers. He gently lapped at your clit until you started to come down from your high.

The grip you had on his hair relaxed as he sat up to look at you, his mouth coated in your arousal.

“Do I still have hair?” he asked, running his fingers through his curls. His scalp was so sensitive that he winced when he touched it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you mumbled, as your breathing started to get a little more regular.

“It’s worth it if I made you cum that hard,” he said, smiling at you. “I loved having you on the back of my bike. It’s like you weren’t scared at all.”

“I wasn’t. I trust you.”

As much as Ethan loved watching your face when he fucked you, he wanted to be as deep as he could inside your warm, wet pussy. He positioned you so your ass was sticking up in the air for him as the side of your face rested against the cool comforter.

“So fucking perfect,” he said, rubbing the tip of his cock over your wet folds. “You ready, baby?”

“Yes,” you said, as he started to inch himself inside of you. The slight burning feeling as he stretched you out made you gasp, his hand roaming over your lower back as his hip bones met the curve of your ass.

He started out with slow thrusts, still giving you time to adjust. Once you whined out to let him know you wanted more, he moved faster. You heard the soft slapping of his skin against yours as the head of his cock hit that special spot inside of you. You glanced back to see him watching his cock disappear inside your pussy, slide himself out, head and all, before he started to pound into you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes still on him as your hands grabbed at the sheets.

He looked up to watch your body as you started to roll your hips back, meeting his thrusts. His cheeks were red as his mouth hung open, a few of his curls sticking to his forehead. One of his hands tightly held your hip as his other hand reached around brushing against your lower stomach. You soon felt two of his fingers strumming against your clit, your moans getting louder by the second.

“Harder,” you whimpered, a smirk playing on his lips as he started to mercilessly pound into your pussy.

“That’s it, baby. You take it so fucking well,” he said, some of his words getting broken by the random grunts slipping past his lips.

Once he put the right amount of pressure on your clit and started to roll his fingers in circles, you felt your body start to tense up, your orgasm sneaking up on you. You were a whimpering mess as the slapping sounds got louder, echoing off the walls. He was getting close, but he was trying so hard to fight it.

He watched your fists ball up in the fitted sheet, pulling it lose as you cried out. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight that his thrusts started to falter.

“Where do you want it?” he rushed out, but you couldn’t form words, completely fucked out.

He slid out of you, releasing his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. His hand ran through his sweaty hair before he flopped down on the bed beside you. Your hips started to relax as you eased the lower half of your body to lay flat across the bed.

“Jesus,” he sighed, catching his breath. “That was amazing.”

“Was it as good as the shower sex?” you asked, smiling as you turned your head to face him.

“Well, we do still need to shower…”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. 1

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist |

summary: When you let your new neighbor’s daughter inside to call her father from your landline, you never expect to be dealing with the fallout twenty years later. Series will take place before and after the outbreak, and is partially inspired by this request. Slow-burn(ish), eventual smut. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 6.4k chapter warnings: mentions of/encounters with a drunk person, references to absent parents, i imply that both reader (and joel) like pineapple on pizza. a/n: i need to get my shit together and make a proper masterlist/post for this series but i'm absolute garbage with photoshop/making collages so that is a project for another day!! for now, i wanted to get this first part out to ya'll. i watched a playthrough of the game too so ill be including some references to that throughout the series. this will be some hallmark-movie ass romance so strap in!! this chapter was super fun to write and i loved writing for reader and sarah, give it a read and let me know what you think!

-March 7, 2003-

“Excuse me? Ma’am? Excuse me?”

The voice behind you is so timid you don’t hear it right away, especially not when your phone is pressed to your ear with your shoulder as you sort through the mail, your coworker droning on and on…

“Ma’am?”

It’s a little more forceful this time, a little closer too, and that’s when it finally gets your attention. Turning around on your heel, you find a young girl standing behind you, one hand hooked in the strap of her backpack that hangs off of one thin shoulder, the other worrying about the butterfly pendant of the necklace she’s wearing.

You recognize her immediately as one of your neighbors, the girl from across the street whose name you didn’t know yet, because you only moved in about two months ago. You’d met the man who you assumed was her father – Joe? Or was it Joel?, you couldn’t remember – the first day you’d moved in, but there had been so much going on that you were too flustered to be engaged.

It’s a Friday, but apparently that doesn’t keep you safe from work calls after you leave the office, because you’re getting an earful of a whole lot of hot air, so much so that you’re probably unintentionally frowning at the girl in front of you while you try to follow the conversation.

“....I think you’re right, but they’re not going to budge unless we sweeten the deal somehow-”

“Can I call you back?” you blurt, ultimately thankful for the interruption. You don’t even wait for his response before you click off your blackberry, sighing, looking up. “Hi, yeah, sorry. Can I help you?”

“Uhm, I’m Sarah…..Miller….I live across the street?” her voice goes up slightly at the end of the sentence, like she’s unsure, even as she points to the home behind her, a two-story place that’s considerably bigger than your own, but maybe a little older. “I uhm…I locked myself out and I was wondering if I could use your phone…to call my dad at work? Please?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say. “That’s fine. Just uh..follow me I guess.”

Tucking the stack of mail in your hand under your arm, you wave her after you, your kitten heels clicking on the hard pavement of your driveway.

“Be careful here,” you warn her as you step over the middle step to your front porch that has rotted, and gives easily under any amount of weight. You’d learned about it the hard way, last week, and still had the bruise on your leg to show for it.

Your front door is open, and Sarah pauses to take off her shoes when you do, a pair of beat-up white Converse that have been doodled on in Sharpie.

“Here, phone’s right there,” you lead her into the kitchen and point to the landline. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Uhm, could I just get some water…please?” She stands rigidly in your kitchen, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Of course,” you reach into the cabinet. Once the glass is filled and placed in front of her, you retreat to your front living area to give her some privacy while she makes the call, sitting on the couch and scrolling through unanswered emails on your blackberry. Sarah mumbles indiscreetly, until you hear her call out again.

“Uhm…ma’am…I’m sorry, Miss…uh-what’s your last name?”

“Oh,” you sit up, giving her your first instead.

“Okay….Uh, my dad wants to talk to you…could you-”

“Sure,” you stand, stepping back into the kitchen, and accepting the receiver from the girl.

“Hello?”

“Hey, this is Joel Miller,” you’re greeted with a low, gruff drawl. “You’re the new neighbor, I believe introduced myself a while back”

“Joel,” you repeat. It’s Joel. Joel, Joel, Joel, you force yourself to remember. Joel and Sarah Miller. “Yes, we met very briefly.”

“And it sounds like you met Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

On the other end of the line, you hear him hesitate, let out a long sigh. “Look, I hate to put you out, but she lost her key to the house, and she tells me the Adlers aren’t home. Do you think she could stay at your place until I’m able to get off work in a couple hours? I know it’s a big ask, but-”

“Of course she can,” you cut him off, peering over your shoulder at Sarah, who’s staring up at you expectantly with wide, terrified eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“She’s probably got homework so I’ll make sure she stays quiet and out of your way. I’m so sorry, she should know better than this. It’s the second time this month this has happened, I keep tellin’ her-”

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal,” you cut him off, unintentionally, before wondering if it was rude you didn’t let him finish. It’s the native New Yorker in you, always in a rush and uninterested in drawn-out excuses. It’s an unfortunate instinct you’ve been trying to train yourself out of, particularly now that you’re living in the southwest. You soften your tone. “She can stay as long as she needs to, seriously. I don’t have anything planned.”

“Okay,” the voice on the other end sounds relieved. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I should be home by nine, I’ll call if anything changes. Thanks so much.”

“Of course, we’ll be fine. See you soon.” You hang up.

Sarah is still behind you when you turn around, clutching the glass of water she’s got in both hands like a vice. “You can stay here until your dad gets home,” you tell her.

“Did….did he sound mad?”

“Maybe a little stressed,” you’re honest. “But….not mad. I also don’t know him, so…”

“I bet he’ll be mad. This is the second time I’ve locked myself out this month because I forgot my key, and I already got lectured once that last time because he had to leave work early.”

“You made a mistake, people forget things…” you shrug. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

Her shoulders relax slightly, and she looks around like it’s the first time she’s actually registered where she’s at. “You have a nice house. It’s cozy.”

“Thanks,” you put your hands on your hips and look around too. “I’m still settling in, so not everything’s unpacked, but I could give you a tour if you’d like?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Ma’am. That tickles you. The address is still not something you’re used to hearing, even though you’ve only been in Austin a few years. “You can just call me by my first name, you know? Ma’am makes me feel old.”

“Really?” she grins, following you down the hall. “I can’t wait to be old.”

“You’ll feel differently someday,” you answer. “But…I guess it’s not so bad.”

Compared to the house you grew up in, your new house is nothing special, but it’s yours, and you couldn’t be prouder that you’d bought it all on your own. It’s a three-bedroom ranch, and you’d converted one of the rooms into an office for yourself. There’s a kitchen, living room, and den. But your favorite part is your large, screened in back porch that overlooks your yard. Now that it’s getting closer to summer, you sit outside in the mornings with a cup of tea and read the newspaper, listen to the birds.

“Can I do my homework at your kitchen table?” Sarah asks once you’re finished showing her around.

“Make yourself comfortable wherever,” you answer. “I could probably stand to get a little work done myself.”

Sarah sits at your dining room table, spreads out her books, and works quietly while you answer some emails and look over some contracts. You’ve got a big meeting Monday with a potential client, and a giant stack of term sheets to go through, but if you could manage to get some of it done tonight it might actually help you down the line. As much as possible, you try to avoid doing too much work outside of your office’s standard hours, but sometimes, it’s inevitable.

The subject Sarah has homework in is algebra, which renders you useless. Even when you have to do any accounting at work, you’re used to having a calculator nearby. It’d been awhile since you spent time with anyone as young as she was – in sixth grade, she told you – and it was starting to serve as a confirmation of your own dysfunctional childhood, because her carefree, sweet nature was so drastically different from anything you remembered feeling.

After about an hour, Sarah slowly starts to close her notebooks, zipping her pencils back up in plastic pouches. You look up from making revisions on a contract, the smell of blue ink heavy in the air around you. “I’m done,” she announces. “Could I sit on your couch and read?”

“Of course,” you answer. “Give me five and I’ll join you.”

It doesn’t take long for you to find a good stopping point, and you pack up your messenger bag, and join Sarah in the living room. “So…I’m starting to get hungry,” you tell her. “Are you?”

Sarah nods sheepishly.

“I could order us something,” you said. “What do you like?”

You aren’t much of a chef, though you can generally figure your way out around any recipe. However, cooking for one is notoriously tedious. If you had multiple mouths to feed, maybe you’d be tempted to hone your skills in the kitchen a little more. Most nights you usually treated yourself to a depressing, hastily thrown together salad, scrambled eggs, or a PB&J. Tonight, you had actually been planning to take yourself out to dinner – there’s a cute little French bistro down the street and you were hoping to treat yourself to a cocktail and a nice meal while you read.

Sarah closes her book, contemplating. “Could we….get a pizza?”

You think about it. “Sure, yeah. Pepperoni…cheese?”

“Can we get….one of both?” she tests.

“Yeah, we can do both,” You smile. “I bet your dad will be hungry, too, he can have some if he wants.”

“Maybe…he likes pineapple on his,” Sarah wrinkles her nose.

“He has good taste. I do too.”

“Gross.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them separate,” you call over your shoulder as you retreat to the kitchen.

Once the pizza is ordered, you return to your living room and curl up on the opposite side of the couch from Sarah, who is engrossed back in her book. “They told me about 30 minutes. What are you reading?”

“To Kill A Mockingbird,” she says, showing you the cover.

“That was one of my favorites growing up.”

“I have to read it for school…but it’s pretty good so far.”

Your phone pings with another email, and you glance at it quickly.

“Is that work?” she asks.

You nod. “Yeah. It still finds you, even when you leave.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“No way!” Sarah perks up. “Like on the tv shows? That’s so cool.”

You snort, shaking your head. “No, not exactly. I’m a corporate lawyer so it’s not as fun, actually, it’s just a lot of paperwork and meetings…”

“So…you don’t like it, then?”

“It’s….” you think about it. “....Fine.” Did you like your job? It wasn’t really something you thought about in that way, you’d always seen it as a means to an end. “I went to law school because my dad wanted me to…he wanted me to work for him someday. And…that didn’t pan out so…yeah. But you know…it pays well, and….”

“You get to wear cool outfits,” she gestures to you.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Although the heels do get a little uncomfortable.”

Sarah’s eyes shift behind you for a second to the hallway leading to your bedroom, then widen excitedly. “You have a cat?”

You turn around to see what she’s looking at, the white and gray ball of fluff that you’d found underneath a dumpster one late night in college.

“Yeah, that’s Martini.”

“Martini,” she giggles, and the cat approaches her cautiously. He’s notoriously shy and quiet, and not even particularly cuddly, but he likes to sleep at the foot of your bed and will sit next to you on the couch if you stay still for long enough.

The cat sniffs Sarah’s outstretched hand, then presses his face into Sarah’s palm so she can scratch him under his chin, his favorite spot. “He’s not usually a fan of strangers, he must like you.”

“I love animals,” she says. “My dad won’t let me get a pet because he says he’ll end up taking care of it.”

You chuckle. “Cats are pretty easy…at least, he is.”

Martini allows himself about twenty seconds worth of affection before he darts out of the room and heads to his food bowl.

“I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes, I’ll be right back,” you push yourself off the couch and walk down the hallway. Any other night and you probably would’ve been in pajamas awhile ago but that’s probably not acceptable, so you settle for jeans and a sweater, which is much more comfortable than the dress and tights you had been in before.

The pizza arrives and after you tip the driver, set it on your kitchen island and pull some plates out of your cupboard. You and Sarah are both long settled with full plates when you speak again.

“Wow….I forgot how good pizza is…” you say, staring at the half eaten piece in your hand.

“You don’t eat pizza?”

“Usually only when I’m drunk,” you say, then immediately realize you’re talking to an eleven year old. “Oops, I…probably shouldn’t be telling you that.”

She giggles. “It’s okay.”

“So, it’s just you and your dad across the street?” you ask. “Does your mom live with you?”

The second the question registers, you immediately regret asking. Sarah shrinks before you, her face dropping, shaking her head. “No I…I don’t really have a mom.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, softly. You just assumed she existed although you’d never seen her, and you feel guilty, racking your brain for something that might help make her feel better. “I understand, my mom wasn’t really around growing up.”

“She wasn’t?” Sarah asked, looking up.

You shake your head. “My parents got divorced when I was young, my dad took us, and she moved across the country, so….I didn’t see much of her.”

“My mom… she left when I was a baby.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, staring at the girl in front of you.

For a moment, looking at her, you see yourself, and you wonder how a parent can wake up one day and choose to ignore someone that’s one half of themselves. Someone they made. If they really understood what that might do to a person’s psyche, growing up thinking that they weren’t wanted. You had always told yourself that your mother, your parents must have not understood, because if they did, and they still chose to do it…

“Are you married?” Sarah asks, and you’re snapped out of your train of thought.

Taking a bite of pizza, you shake your head no.

“So you live here alone?”

You nod, chewing.

“Do you like it?”

You nod, swallow. “It’s better than having a roommate, or living in the city.”

Standing up, you walk towards the fridge for a can of sparkling water. It hisses while you open it, and you lean over the counter while Sarah continues to drill you. “Do you ever get….scared? Like at night?”

“No….not really. I have locks. And this is a safe neighborhood. And uh, I may or may not have a nightlight still.”

Sarah giggles. “Me too.”

There’s a sturdy knock on your screen door, which you’d left open to let in the cool spring breeze, and you notice Sarah’s eyes widen. “I bet that’s my dad.”

As if he heard her, and maybe he did, the guest calls out. “It’s Joel!” It’s the same voice from over the phone, but much clearer.

“Come in,” you answer.

The screen door creaks open, the sound of boots shuffling inside. “Sarah?” It’s the same voice from the phone. Joel steps into the warm light of the kitchen.

When you first met it had been from a distance, you were carrying boxes and he was loading something into the back of his truck. It’s clear you hadn’t gotten a good enough look at him, wouldn’t have forgotten his name, because fuck, he’s kind of gorgeous…tan skin, dark wavy hair, and a sharp jawline covered in stubble. In the archway to your kitchen he looks huge, taller than you remembered.

“Hi Dad,” Sarah says. “Miss-“

You cut her off simply by saying your first name. “Nice to meet you…again.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, and thank you so much for keeping an eye on her. We’ll get out of your ha-”

“We got you pizza,” Sarah pipes up, looking at him. You can tell that she’s trying to stall. Or at least, trying to offer him something that might soften the inevitable lecture she’s going to get. It’s a smart play, and definitely not something you would’ve been above trying at her age.

Joel looks at the three pizza boxes spread across your countertop. “You didn’t have to feed her, really, like I said, she should’ve known better,” he turns to look at her pointedly.

“I had to eat anyway. Please, help yourself. There’s a ton of leftovers,” You really did not want cold pizza in your fridge, because it’d be too tempting to eat as a late night snack or even breakfast on your way out the door in the mornings.

Reluctantly, he looks at you before taking a plate. “Thank you,” he turns to his daughter while he opens one of the boxes. “Did you get your homework done?”

Sarah nods. “And I got ahead on my reading for English.”

“That’s good.”

Joel turns back to you, settles in a chair with the plate of food in front of him at the island. You do the same. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to come over and properly introduce myself. Sarah too.”

You shrug. “I’m the new neighbor, that’s probably my responsibility anyways. It’s been kind of hectic settling in.”

“Where’d you move from?”

“Well, I’ve been in Austin for the past few years, but originally I’m from Manhattan.”

Joel nods. “Why Texas?”

It’s far away from my insane family, you think, and then settle on something else. “Work.”

Sarah is staring at her plate and tearing a piece of crust into tiny pieces. Joel eyes the slice of pizza he’s just taken a bite of.

“Pineapple?” he looks over at Sarah. “Are you tryin’ to bribe me so you don’t get in trouble?”

“It’s my favorite, too,” you offer, then wink at Sarah when Joel isn’t looking. She tilts her head down, her hair hiding the grin on her face from her father.

A buzzing sound cuts through the room before Joel can answer, and he digs in his pocket to fish out his cell phone. “Hold on, I gotta take this.”

When he steps out of the room, you begin to clear the empty boxes and plates off your kitchen island and bring them over to the sink. Sarah brings her plate over as well, stands next to you at the sink while you rinse them off and load them in the dishwasher.

“Thank you for dinner,” she says.

“Of course,” you answer.

“I just really hope he’s not disappointed with me.”

Placing your hand between her shoulder blades, you give her an encouraging pat. “I don’t think he is….” you hear Joel on the phone in the other room, his voice rising in volume. “....and honestly….it sounds like he might have bigger fish to fry…”

“Tommy…are you fucking kidding me? Again? How many times is this gonna happen? Okay…fine. fine. I’ll be there soon, but you can’t keep doing this shit.”

Sarah grimaces, and you both turn back to the sink sheepishly when you hear Joel’s footsteps returning. She bumps you with her elbow while you clear your throat.

You’re sure there’s still a residual smile on your face when you turn around to face Joel, who has his hands on his hips. “Alright, Sarah, we gotta get going.”

“Is everything okay with Uncle Tommy?”

“No, I’ve gotta pick him up at the police station.”

“Did he drink too much again?”

“Sarah!” Joel exclaims. “Please, it’s gettin’ late and you’ve got a soccer game tomorrow, you need to get to bed.”

You’re biting your lower lip so hard to keep from laughing you almost taste blood. It’s not funny, definitely not funny to Joel, who you can tell is having a rough night, but it’s objectively funny as an outsider, watching all their familial drama being put on blast by his daughter who doesn’t quite have a filter yet, and is first and foremost trying to protect herself from getting into trouble.

“She’s a lawyer, I bet she could help Tommy,” Sarah looks over at you. “Couldn’t you?”

Joel frowns. “That’s not how that works-”

“What’d they bring him in for?” you ask.

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Public intoxication. Are you really a lawyer?”

“Well…I’m a corporate lawyer so that wouldn’t really be my specialty. But uh…I’ve definitely been able to talk my friends out of that kind of thing before.”

“But this is not the first time,” Joel says. “It’s probably useless.”

“Didn’t you say you can’t afford to keep-”

“Sarah, enough.” Joel’s voice is as stern as you’ve heard it, and he digs into his pocket, producing a keychain. “Go home and get ready for bed. I’ll be home in a minute.”

Sarah sighs, defeated. “Okay.”

Joel stands dead still while she shuffles to the door, cramming her feet in her shoes with her backpack slung over her shoulder.

By this point in the evening, you’d usually be curled up on your couch by the fireplace with your latest knitting project, moderately stoned, watching bad reality television and sipping sleepytime herbal tea. But your night has already gone drastically different from your expectation. Why stop now? “If you wanted…I could try to help.”

Joel shakes his head, looks at the floor. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t ask,” you shrug. “I offered.”

He looks up, a soft smile breaks across his face, revealing a row of straight, sparkling teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It’s the first sincere smile you’ve ever seen from him, and your knees feel a little weak at the sight of it. You think you might offer him anything just to see it again. “It’d be a huge favor. But….I’d appreciate it.”

“Alright well…” you look around, push yourself off the countertop. “I probably should change before we go. I don’t think I’ll be taken seriously in this.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I need to make sure Sarah gets to bed alright, how ‘bout you meet me on my porch in ten?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks again,” he raps his knuckles on the counter twice before retreating, and you stay in place until you hear the screen door close behind him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I feel like you’re meeting us all at a very chaotic time….I promise, things aren’t usually like this.”

Joel’s not sure why he feels the need to clarify this to you on the drive to the police station. In fact, he might be saying it more to convince himself, because he thinks ever since Sarah’s mom ran off, things have never not been chaotic.

In some ways, he’s glad it happened. It was a doomed relationship from the start, they’d both been far too young to understand the consequences of their actions, so it was probably for the better that she was no longer around. But he was caught in a constant state of feeling like he could never quite get a handle on things.

Joel glances over at you in the passenger's seat of his truck. He decides that you look a little out of place there, dressed in a black pantsuit, a messenger bag tucked between your heel-clad feet. He can’t remember the last time there was an adult woman in his car. Three months, maybe? It had been a date, a third date, and subsequently, a last date. But right now the context is different.

Your head is tilted towards the open window, the breeze casting stray pieces of your hair around as the radio cuts in and out of an old Eagles song and then to static, and then back into music again. He needs to get his damned stereo fixed but unfortunately it hasn’t exactly been high on his priority list. His gaze travels down the slope of your neck, where your skin dips into the collar of your silky blue blouse, then back to your profile, your lips moving as you mouth the words to the song, but don’t sing.

I get this feelin' I may know you

As a lover and a friend

You stop when his words register, turning to look at him, and he averts his eyes back to the road. “No offense or anything….” you say. “But compared to the family I grew up in….this is all pretty tame.”

Joel ponders that for a moment, notices the way your eyes are narrowed, the corners of your lips quirking. “What, you got a problematic little brother, too? A precocious eleven-year-old?”

“No kids,” you answer. He didn’t think so. “But I do have a problematic older brother. And the stress he’s caused has definitely taken years off my life.”

At least you seem like you understand.

He’s shocked you’re in this car with him, that after entertaining his daughter all night, you’d offered to help him out with this Tommy mess. Though, he assumes you’re doing it out of guilt because Sarah made it sound like he was broke.

“You know for the record, I actually have the money to bail him out.”

“I figured.”

“Then why’d you come?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. My life has been pretty boring lately. I can’t remember the last time I did something exciting on a Friday night.”

“This is exciting to you?”

“It’s objectively exciting,” you sound assured. “Maybe more exciting than being the person who got arrested for public intoxication.”

Despite the stress of the evening, he can’t help but laugh.

“And whether you’re broke or not, bailing someone out of jail is no joke. If you can at least try to talk your way out of it, you might as well.”

Joel can’t argue with your logic.

“What is it you do again?” you ask, eyeing the protective glasses he has in the cup holder of his front seat. There are nails stuck between the rubber grooves of the mat beneath the seats, a pair of thick gloves resting on the dashboard.

“I’m a carpenter.”

“Makes sense,” you answer. “So you’re handy?”

“You could say that,” Joel lifts the can of flat, warm seltzer from his lunch break to his mouth, just to take a sip.

“That’s hot,” you say, and he nearly chokes when he hears it. Are you….flirting? Though, you can’t be, because when he looks over at you, you’re staring at the road, face neutral.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know, I don’t make the rules of what’s hot and what isn’t….it’s just a fact. Everyone knows that.”

“Do they?”

“Uh-huh,” you respond. “I mean, I wish I was handy. I’m pretty much a lost cause in that department.”

“If it paid the bills, you’d figure it out.”

“If it paid the bills, I can tell you, I would not be living in our neighborhood.”

Joel puts his blinker on, preparing to pull into the police station. “You probably still could, it’s not that nice of a neighborhood.”

“Shut up,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “But in all seriousness, it is peaceful. It’s quiet.”

“See, but you still didn’t say nice.”

“It is nice. I like it.”

When he parks the car, you straighten up, unbuckling the seatbelt and exiting without a word. On the opposite side of the truck, he observes how you rebutton the front of your blazer, smooth down its lapels and shift your shoulders back before turning to him.

“You ready?” you ask.

He nods.

“After you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Joel spots you again, Tommy is walking a few paces behind you. You turn your head over one shoulder, smirking at whatever he’s saying. From where Joel is sitting in the lobby, he can just make out the soft curve of your hips, the tops of your thighs over the barrier that separates him from all the desks of the officers and staff at the station. You’ve got an easy, relaxed gait and you give Joel a wink when he catches you staring.

He can tell it’s just meant to be celebratory thing, since both you and Tommy seem to be in good spirits, but he likes the sight of it anyways, the idea that you’re both in on some secret that no one else is.

Joel stands to greet you and his brother to get the download, but as he approaches, your group is intercepted by one of the cops that had been hanging around reception.

“Miller,” he says lowly to Tommy. “This better be the last time I see you in here.”

When Tommy doesn’t answer right away, you pipe up.

“I assure you my client will be on his best behavior.”

The cop turns to you for a minute, turns back to Tommy, contemplating. “You’re lucky you have a good lawyer…” he says. “Although I’m still not convinced you’re really paying someone to get you out of a public intoxication charge.”

“I-” Tommy opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“Alleged…intoxication,” you interject, stone-faced.

“He can hardly walk straight.”

You purse your lips. “But….you never did a sobriety test, so, would it hold up in court?” you grimace. “If I had to guess….probably not.”

The cop narrows his eyes at you. “Don’t push it, princess.”

Despite the infantilizing nickname, You respond with a polite smile. “Thanks again, officer. Have a nice evening.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs before backing away.

You turn to Joel, your smile fading, and Tommy cuts in. “We should get the fuck out of here before he changes his mind.”

“That’s it? You’re free?” Joel asks.

Tommy nods.

“Tommy’s right, we should definitely leave.”

It’s a mad scramble, the three of you settling back into Joel’s truck, and if he was feeling a little less angsty about the way the whole evening had gone, he might’ve even peeled out of the parking lot for dramatic effect. But at this point, his patience is wearing thin.

He’s back on the main drag, en route to Tommy’s place, with you on the passenger’s side, and his brother in the back, leaning forward with his elbows resting on your seats when his brother speaks up.

“Holy….shit!” Tommy turns to you. “That was fucking awesome, are you kidding me? Joel, where the fuck did you find her?”

He’s still drunk, words slurring together, and he shakes both of your shoulders ferociously. You actually giggle — the sound of it is fucking adorable and Joel wishes that these are not the circumstances for hearing such a noise. He rather it be because of something he said, but he knows Tommy has always been more charming, even when drunk

“She’s my neighbor, Tommy.”

“No way! How come I’ve never seen you around before?” Tommy asks, and Joel can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“I’m kind of new to the area,” you answer.

“Dammit, oh my god, Joel, I wish you coulda seen it.”

Joel looks over at you, and is thankful that he catches your eye. “What’d you say?”

“Never underestimate your negotiating power when the cop you’re talking to’s shift ended over an hour ago, and he doesn’t want to fill out any more paperwork.” You cross your arms, look over your shoulder at Tommy, who is leaning back against the seat with his head in his hands, laughing, before looking back at Joel. “I told you, I have experience.”

“Oh my god,” Tommy pokes his head back between you. “How’d he even get you to come down here? What’d he have to do, offer to paint your house or somethin’?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Sarah got locked out again,” Joel explained. “And I was over at her place when you called. She’s a corporate lawyer.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You know, Joel’s always liked the smart ones,” Tommy starts, and Joel has to contain the urge to slam on the brakes and send his brother face first into the back of his headrest. Unfortunately, he can’t do that with you in the car. “Too bad he’s dumb as a box of rocks.”

“Okay, watch yourself!” Joel snaps, and he’s only halfway kidding. “You got off easy, but you’re on fuckin’ thin ice, and I’m still pissed that I’m spending my night bailing you out again.”

Tommy doesn’t even catch on to Joel’s irritation – or maybe he does, and has just decided that he’s going to be the Annoying Younger Sibling and see how far he can push it. “Don’t let him fool you, okay?” Tommy continues, and you’ve angled yourself towards him, amused. “It’s not always him lookin’ after me. Before he had Sarah, he was crazy.”

“Alright, alright that’s enough, Tommy.” Joel shoots daggers towards his brother in the rearview mirror, and he watches Tommy’s smile falter, finally deciding to back down.

“Is that true, Joel, were you really crazy?” you ask after Tommy grows quiet, tilting your head. “I can’t see it.”

“Well we’ve all have our moments, right?” he says sheepishly.

“We do,” you agree, and then it’s finally silent.

Joel is thankful to see Tommy’s driveway straight in front of him, and his car lurches up the curb. “Alright, alright, this is your last stop,” he says to his brother. “You’ll get in okay?”

Tommy takes a deep breath, settling himself after all his bravado and sinking back against his seat. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Sarah’s game.” He slinks out of the truck and slams the door behind him.

Normally, Joel would’ve chewed him out after something like this, but he knows being hungover tomorrow at a middle school soccer game, sandwiched between screaming parents and the ear-splitting whistles of the referees will be punishment enough.

“I’ll see you then.” He watches his brother stumble up the steps to his home, unlock the door, and give a wave before disappearing inside.

Joel’s left alone with you. “Should we get you home, now?”

“Yeah, we should.”

Joel puts the car in reverse, puts one of his arms over the back of the bench seat to look for cars behind him, and catches you staring. You don’t even seem embarrassed that he notices, either, you just shift your gaze away to outside the window.

He feels a little self-conscious about the first impression he’s probably made, which is a feeling he’s not used to…caring about what people think.

“Sorry about him, he’s….a good guy but a real piece of work.”

You giggle. “Like I said, I have a brother, too.”

It’s been awhile since he’s interacted with anyone outside of Sarah, Tommy, and his coworkers, and his day was exhausting. He wants to ask more questions, see if he can hold some kind of conversation, but words fail him, so you spend the short drive on the way back home mostly in silence. You’re so quiet that by the time he pulls into your driveway, he thinks you might be asleep. If you were, he doesn’t even get the chance to wake you, because you immediately sit up straight once the truck has come to a halt.

“Thanks for everything tonight,” he says.

“You’re welcome, it was no problem,” you get out of the car, sling your bag over your shoulders, and close the door. “Have a good night.”

Joel’s listening to the retreating click of your heels up the driveway when he rolls down his window all the way to speak again. It’s clear you’re tired, your shoulders are slouched, and he feels incredibly guilty. You worked all day and then had to put up with his entire crazy family.

“Hey,” he says. “How much do I owe you for the pizza?”

You turn around, still stepping backwards. “Nothing.”

“Look, you’ve done too much for me tonight to say that,” he says. “I’m startin’ to feel bad.”

You stop in your tracks then, the smirk on your face fading a little bit as you slowly step forward to where he leans out the truck window. It’s only a few feet, but you’re much closer now than you’ve been to him all night, and there must be jasmine in your perfume. It smells expensive, he thinks, as your hands lift to rest on the door next to his elbow. “You shouldn’t feel bad,” you say softly, voice low.

God, you’re fucking beautiful, he realizes, basked in the glow of the moon, a smile creeping along the edges of your lips. Of course, he knew you were attractive, had definitely registered it at some point before – maybe when he’d walked in on you and Sarah giggling in the kitchen. He was just too busy being worried to even notice until now.

This isn’t a date, but you’re so close he could kiss you, kind of wants to just to see what would happen, but he doesn’t. You’re his new neighbor, and if he’s reading this wrong, he doesn’t want to be reminded of the mistake everyday, first thing in the morning when you’re picking up your newspaper at the end of your driveway and he’s leaving for work.

“But uh…if it would make you feel better…one of the steps on my front porch is rotted. Maybe you could come over sometime and fix it? That a fair trade?”

Joel nods, and you stick out your hand. “It’s a deal,” he says, ignoring the jolt of energy he feels when your palms press together, like you’re a kid wearing a hand buzzer, trying to shock him.

“Great,” you step away. He’s about to put the car in reverse when you speak again.

“Oh, and Joel?” you ask, he looks back at you. Before you speak again, your eyes shift to the ground, like you’re mustering up the courage to ask him something, and when they return to his again, your expression is somber. “Go easy on Sarah….she’s a good kid.”

Joel nods, understanding.

“I know.”

volume ii

taglist: @yaskna @venomous-ko @lomljigg

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller series #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #tlou hbo #tlou fanfic #tlou series #texas sun

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f1goat · 10 months

Text

the race loser x lando norris + part one

in which you see your ex best friend again after he cut of contact between you two.

not proof read - angsty

sunday - red bull ring

It can’t be. Lando doesn’t believe his eyes. His eyes must have lied to him. It doesn’t take his brain longer then a few seconds to fill up all his thoughts with you. Is there a possibility that you’re here? Here at Red Bull Ring during a race? He shakes his head. He should stop thinking like this. This is the kind of behavior that makes him lose focus which makes him lose points at the end. He tries to discard every thought he is having about you, but he can’t stop himself from looking in the same direction again while hoping to see you.

He knows his friend Max is here. He also knows that Max is one of the people who’s still in contact with you. Lando always tries to get information about you out of Max, but he never succeeded. Not that he deserves it, but still.

Before the start of this season Lando spend his whole vacation with you. Of course his friends were there as well sometimes, but you were the one who was always around him. He already knew that he had a crush on you, but that holiday it turned into so much more. At least, for him. It took him one week after his vacation to ruin everything between the two of you. It was the first race weekend. Even now when it’s more then a couple months ago, it still hurts him to think about it. He hates the way he acted that day. He hates himself for causing this. It’s all his fault.

sunday - bahrain international circuit

“Don’t,” Lando speaks up with a loud voice, “Don’t come in here to tell me it will all be better soon. Because it won’t.”

He doesn’t notice the way you shake a bit because of the harsh undertone in his voice. He also doesn’t notice the way you can’t stop looking at him. Lando doesn’t look at you, he’s focused on his phone. The race is barely over and he’s already reading multiple tweets about the failure of McLaren. It doesn’t surprise him that there already memes made. Normally he can laugh about them, but when he sees a McLaren photoshopped tractor with himself and his teammate inside he doesn’t laugh. He’s closer to crying then to laughing.

You don’t know what to say. Lando is getting annoyed by his own thoughts. He wants nothing more then to bathe in your comfort. Would it be a bad thing if he would let you comfort you? He already imagines himself laying with his head on your lap while you try to encourage him about the car. As quick as he can he discards his thoughts about you.

This kind of behavior makes him a loser he thinks. He can’t even focus half of the time because he keeps thinking about you. Even in the car it’s always like that. Whenever he makes a good move, the first thing he wonders is if you saw him. He’s way too distracted by his own thoughts and they are all about you.

“Lan.”

He barely hears you at first, but he does look up at you. He notices the way you look at him. The pitiful look almost pains him. This isn’t how he wants you to look at you.

“Don’t,” Lando says again, “Please don’t pity me.”

“I’m not,” you tell him softly, “I’m here for you.”

He notices the way you try to come closer to him. It costs him all of his energy to move away from you. He can’t be weak. Not now. His mind if made up. He needs to regain his focus. You are a distraction. As long as he’s crushing on you, he can’t focus fully on the races. He needs his focus.

“Maybe I don’t want you to be,” Lando states.

“What do you mean?” You ask him confused.

Lando lets out a soft sigh. This is already hurting him. It’s all for the better good. Zak told him about distractions before. You can’t become a race winner if you can’t focus. He has had this conversation with Zak so many times, he never did something with it. But now he feels like it’s the only chance he has left. He needs to focus on racing this season, he can’t focus all of his energy on you. It will be better. Zak told him that you would understand him, it was logical after all. Maybe his crush will even fade away, then it will be easier to be friends again.

“I need space,” Lando explains. He can’t help but notices the hurtful tone in his own voice. He tries to lose it. It’s his decision, he shouldn’t be sad about it. “And I need to focus on racing,” he goes on, “now I focus too much on us. I’m always busy with us.”

“What are you saying?” You ask him. Lando notices the sad tone in your voice. He doesn’t dare to look at you. “I can give you more space if you want? We don’t have to hang out every time you’re free.”

“I think I need to get away from you for a bit.” He can barely say the words. It already pains him. He tries to focus on his future as a race winner, but he doubts it will be worth it. Is he really giving up on your friendship? Fuck. His body fills up with regret, but he knows it’s already too late now. He said the words. There’s no going back.

“Oh.. Uh,” you can’t form the words you’re searching. Lando hears the soft sob coming out of your throat. “Why?” You ask him.

“I need to focus,” Lando repeats himself. It hurts him to look at you. It’s wrecking him to look at the tears he caused.

“Are you going to break with all your friends?” You ask.

Lando shakes his head.

“Why me?” You continue to ask.

Lando keeps silent. You let out a sob. When it has been silent for a few minutes you decide to walk away. You won’t get a clear answer. Lando watches you walk away. He knows it his own decision and his own fault, but in his mind he’s running after you. Telling you everything about his feelings, kissing you and keeping you close to himself. But he can’t. He tries to focus on Zak his words. He hopes it will soon feel better like Zak told him, because he can’t see himself focus better if this memory is the last one he has of you.

sunday - red bull ring

When he races past the same corner, he notices it again. Is it actually possible that you’re here? He tries to think back at what Max told him before the race. Where was Max seated today? Is it in the same place he thinks you are? Could it be possible that Max took you with him?

After Lando broke off the contact with you - which included blocking you on almost every social media platform, another advise from Zak, he didn’t feel any better. He uses his socials to write messages to you, messages that you will never receive. He writes about missing you. About loving you. About not being able to focus any better now. It’s shit. He uses his fake Instagram account to look at your account. He scrolls back through all the photos of you and sometimes you with him. He can’t stop looking at your highlights, he tries to experience every memory over and over again.

He can’t. He can’t get his cheerful feeling back. He doesn’t feel the same anymore, he only feels shittier every time. Whenever he looks at the memories, he reminds himself of what he threw away. He should never broke off the contact between you two. It was a mistake. The biggest mistake he ever made. Not because it isn’t even working - his focus is only away further, but because it isn’t worth it. He misses you. Sometimes he wakes up at night gasping for air because he realized again that he’s never getting you back. Other nights he cries himself to sleep while thinking about everything he threw away.

Zak told him it would be hard at first. But now after a few months Lando can safely say it’s still hard. He can’t find out one small benefit from his actions. The car is getting better, but only because the updates are finally working. And now when the car is finally good enough, Lando himself isn’t. He thinks about how it would have worked out if he didn’t cut you off. Then there would have been the same updates and he would feel good. Yeah, a bit distracted because of his feelings for you, but still happy.

+++

“Why did you bring me here Max?”

Max looks up at you as if it’s a dumb question, but you can’t figure out what you’re doing in Austria right now.

“I had a spare ticket,” Max shrugs.

You know he’s lying.

“So you decided to bring the person your friend, who gave you to tickets, doesn’t want to see anymore? That seems like a stupid plan,” you say a bit annoyed.

“Just wait y/n,” Max tells you, “It’s about time you see how this focussing on racing is treating him. And then the two of you are going to talk.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” you say softly, “he wants nothing to do with me.”

“We both know that isn’t true,” Max states, “We just don’t know what happened yet. I’m sure there’s some sort of explanation for this.”

“It has been months, I don’t think he regrets it.”

You’re a bit distracted from the race for a couple minutes while talking with Max. When you’re about to search for Lando his McLaren again, you hear a loud banging noise. Did something happen? You look around at the track. At first you don’t see it. Until you look right under your nose. Fuck how did you miss that? When you we’re busy searching for Lando and talking with Max, the papaya McLaren car crashed right under your nose.

Is Lando already out of the car?

You try to find an answer to your burning question, but it seems like Lando is still in the car. That can’t be good right? You feel yourself getting more panicked.

“What happened?” You ask Max, “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know,” Max whispers. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I knew this would happen.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Because his focus is even worse, fuck. I took you here to show you that his action didn’t make any difference. I wanted to show you that Lando was in a worser shape without you, but I didn’t expected him to crash right in front of us,” Max explains.

You don’t look at Max. You can’t look away from Lando. There are multiple people around his car. They are trying to get Lando out of his car. At least that’s how it seems. You feel like you can finally breath properly again when you see Lando getting out of his car. You let out a relieved sigh when you see him walking without support from the stewards.

“Can we go see him?” You ask Max.

Max is also letting out relieved sounds now he knows his friend is walking on his own.

“Yeah, I think he needs to get checked out first by the medical team. But we can already go to McLaren so we can see him right after,” Max tells you.

+++

“What was that Lando?” Zak is standing right in front of him. The medical staff is still busy with checking him. Lando lets out a sigh.

“I crashed,” he dryly comments.

Zak mutters something, but Lando can’t hear. It’s probably some sort of curse word. “Why did you crash? It seemed like you just let go of the car in that turn.”

“I was distracted,” Lando states. He doesn’t tell Zak what caused him to lose focus. When Lando took that turn again, he couldn’t help himself and tried to find you again. Then he actually saw you. Of course, he saw you just enough to knew it was you, but still. Before he knew it he lost control over his car and ended up crashing.

“By what?” Zak asks annoyed.

“By how I need to fix things with y/n because cutting contact didn’t do the trick,” Lando says softly. “I want her back here. And I’m never listening to your idiotic advise again.”

After he said those words the door is opening again. Lando lets out a relieved sigh, he isn’t sure how mad Zak will be at him so he can use a small distraction. A nurse is appearing in front of them, “It seems like you were lucky today. There’s nothing major going on, but you do need some rest.”

“Can he race next week?” Zak is quick to ask.

“If he gets enough rest this week,” the nurse answers quickly, “I suggest a couple nights of going to bed early and making sure you sleep eight hours a night.”

Lando almost snorts. He won’t do that. He can’t. Every time he tries to fall asleep, he ends up thinking about you for hours.

“There are some of your friends here as well, can I let them in?” The nurse continues.

“Yes,” Lando quickly responds.

“In the mean time you can come with me,” the nurse tells Zak, “We can share some ideas for fast recovery.” She walks out with Zak, but does tell Lando that his friends will be here in a couple seconds.

Lando wonders which friends are coming. He knows Max is here, so he thinks he will be one of them. Maybe the race is already finished and his other friend from the grid - Max Verstappen - will also visit him? Lando doesn’t know who else should be here for him. His mind goes over to you again, but he’s sure you’re not one of the friends that’s waiting to visit him.

It doesn’t take long for Max to enter the room. Lando isn’t surprised to see him.

“Are you okay mate?” Max is quick to ask.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lando assures him, “nothing too bad.”

“What happened?” Max asks further.

“You’re going to think that I’m insane,” Lando says, “but I was so sure about seeing y/n. I got distracted. I thought I saw her and then I lost control over the car. I probably made it up, but I couldn’t focus during the race at all. Like every other race. I told Zak I’m going to find a way to fix things between me and her. But I think she hates me. Can you help me?”

“Mate you’re rambling,” Max says with a small smile, “Why did you tell Zak that you’re going to fix things?”

“Because he was the one that kept telling me to cut ties with her!” Lando exclaims annoyed, “He told me I needed to do that so I could focus properly. At first I didn’t listen, but then I was so mad after the first race this season that the words flew out.”

“I might have brought someone with me today,” Max says after a while of thinking, “but you need to promise me to stay calm. The nurse is going to kill me if you’re going to panic yourself into a heart attack.”

Lando can’t stop himself and thinks about you. Is it possible that Max is talking about you as well? It can’t be.

“I promise,” he quickly says.

Max walks away, only to return a small minute later with you next to him.

Lando doesn’t know what to do. Are you actually standing in front of him? He stands up from the chair he was sitting in earlier. He walks closer to you. In the corner of his eye, he notices Max walking out of the small room. He can’t stop looking at you. The first thing he notices it the tired look you have, you even seem worried. Then he notices the shirt you’re wearing. A simple Quadrant one. Normally you always wore his own merch while attending races, but he’s still glad you’re wearing at least something that’s close to him.

You don’t know what to do as well. Lando is standing closely in front of you. You notice the way his eyes are looking at every part of you. You realize that you’re probably doing the same.

“I’m so sorry,” Lando says after a while.

“I heard about Zak,” you respond, “Is it really true that he made you cut ties with me?”

Lando nods. “I shouldn’t have listened to him. I’m so sorry Y/N.”

“Let’s talk about it later,” you say.

“Can I hug you?” Lando asks you with a few doubts. You nod quickly. Lando moves even closer towards you and drapes his arms around your body. You feel yourself warming up.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you tell Lando with a soft voice.

“I’ve missed you too.”

Lando thighs his grip on you. Hugging you even closer then before. He can’t stop thinking about how lucky he is to have you in his arms like this again. He knows things aren’t fixed yet, but he’s hopeful to make things right with you. Everything. Even telling you all about his feelings.

i think there will be a part two of this! let me know if you guys want that as well :)

part two

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fanfiction #formula one #f1 #lando norris x you

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boyfhees · 2 years

Text

🗗 REFUSING TO RECOGNIZE THEM WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK

FT. oikawa, kuroo, atsumu, akaashi, bokuto

W. mentions of drinking

AN. reposting :( i only found one taglist, i'll add the second one when i do :(

OIKAWA!

offended because he's your boyfriend and you refuse to recognize him. it's just a series of 'y/n i'm your boyfriend,' and 'no, you're not. my boyfriend is prettier,' he's literally suffering because it's getting late and people keep giving him weird looks. tries to convince you using pictures in his phone but still no avail because, "listen mister, i know how photoshopping works." is all you say, paying no attention to his words. finally gives up and helps you sober up a bit before you recognize him and you both leave after two hours of constant suffering. literally tells you not to use your brain when you're drunk because the photoshopping move took him away.

KUROO!

finds it interesting and decides to play along. says "your boyfriend doesn't have to know," with his famous shit eating grin, however, is taken aback as you gasp and slap his hand away from you. kuroo is happy that even in the lack of soberness, you won't go with any other man but at this point, it's getting too much and he's just exhausted. says something like, "let's go home, y/n," and grabs your hand, only to get punched in the face. he hopes his nose isn't broken. takes you home once you realize that he's your boyfriend because "you both look a little too similar— oh, tetsu?!" you're a little too late, y/n. please buckle up because you aren't hearing a end of this anytime soon and kuroo is the type to hold grudges <3

ATSUMU!

so fucking embarrassed because you just said, "i will report you for sexual assault," a little too loud and the people around are now sending him glares. as much as he loves you, he might really be regretting some decisions and the one to let you drink alone is on the top of the list. had to clarify using pictures on his phone and other things before someone calls cops on him. for some reason you remember osamu even when you're wasted ( which he's still offended about ) and call him to help you get home. you wouldn't stop saying things like, "samu, who is this weird man? where is tsum?" and it pains him physically.

AKAASHI!

tired. it's late night and he wants to sleep so bad. doesn't take shit from anyone, just picks you up and walks out. ( akaashi is very capable of that, i know ) definitely gets weird stares about it but no one really questions since you aren't opposed to his actions. if you don't recognize him, he washes you face until you get a minimum hold of yourself. turns out you actually recognized him a while later and apologize to him the next morning. he doesn't let you drink alone ever again. kinda salty that you didn't try to stop him when he picked you up because it could've been anyone else. just be ready for a lecture.

BOKUTO!

in tears, honestly. it's not like you accidently hit him or anything. you're not even listening to him. he's the sitting beside you, begging you to come with him while you keep rambling about how amazing and hot your boyfriend is. and as much as he likes compliments, he clearly doesn't appreciate them at 2 am when you refuse to recognize him. "y/n, let's go home," — "you know, kou used to call me that," — "that's because it's your name?!" — yeah you have this moment with him and it kills you the next morning because you remember everything. when he asks you to come home a little too firmly, you glare at him and refuse, saying that you already have a boyfriend, he's not sure if he should be happy or crying. finally you pass you and he takes you home, sigh <3

taglist in the rbs.

#prod. — caelin.#album. — haikyuu.#haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu fic #oikawa fic #kuroo fic #bokuto fic #atsumu fic #haikyuu fluff #kuroo fluff #atsumu fluff #bokuto fluff #akaashi fluff #oikawa fluff

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

kyoho | ksj

You love your grape boy, and your grape boy... well, he might just love you a little too much.

pairing: seokjin x f!reader

rating: pg13

genre/warnings: established relationship, swearing bc when is there no swearing in my fics, mentions of seggs, suggestive themes, fluff, crack?? idk, my brand of fics is Unedited y'all know that's how we roll

word count: 1.8k

notes: i've been buying a lot of grapes lately (am i a grape person now??) and i've been eating them almost every day and of course i had to think about grape jinnie my beloved, my ultimate favorite seokjin and i want him to come back to me :((( idk that's how this lil thang came to me lmao it's the most crackhead shit i've ever written sOoOoOoOo please laugh or else ! 👿 jk but not really

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

"If you do this, we're done."

"Y/N."

"I swear, if you go through with this, we are over!"

Seokjin sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly not expecting you to be so passionate about the subject at hand. "The appointment is in an hour," he says.

"Cancel it. I don't care!" you cry. "Please don't do this. Don't take him away. He means the world to me."

Your boyfriend stares at you, mouth agape, then points to his head incredulously. "Him? My hair?"

"Yes!" You crawl over to his side of the couch to straddle his lap, actual tears welling in your eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and silky it feels in your hands. His gorgeous, gorgeous purple locks. The ones he's ready to sacrifice in favor of half blond, half red hair by demand of one Jeon Jungkook.

You shouldn't be this upset over him dyeing his hair, but you are, despite knowing full well that the purple will be gone soon anyway. His dark roots are starting to show already.

It's shark week, and there are not enough words in the dictionary to express how devastated you are that he's taking away your emotional support Grape Jinnie.

A couple months ago, when he told you that he'd be dyeing his hair purple, you were highly skeptical of the decision. You didn't know if he had the face to pull off purple of all colors, even though you had already seen him sport every other color of the rainbow and absolutely rocked every single one.

The whole week leading up to his salon appointment, you teased him endlessly - started calling him Grape Boy, bought him box after box of Kyoho grapes, photoshopping Kylie Jenner's purple hair onto his head and making it your lockscreen... It was mostly just grape puns, you were really milking that whole thing.

But then he came home, hair freshly bleached and colored, and your jaw dropped to the ground and stayed there for ten whole minutes.

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets from how good he looked.

No, he didn't just look good. He was stunning, breathtaking, mindbogglingly beautiful and all the other synonyms that one could name.

The man fucking ate and left no crumbs.

That night was one of the best sex you two have ever had.

To say that you were obsessed with this shade on him is the understatement of the year.

"Don't do it," you plead. "If you really love me, you won't do it."

"You're being so dramatic. It's just hair." Seokjin puts his hands on your waist while you keep yours on his head, clutching his strands like a lifeline. "Plus, I have to honor the bet!"

Your expression turns stony then, as your eyes travel from the silky purple down to his face. You tighten your grip on his hair and tug on it sharply until your boyfriend is scowling in discomfort.

The bet. The stupid fucking bet he made with Jungkook.

You had explicitly told him there no chance in hell that he could win, but Seokjin could be an overly confident asshole sometimes.

He was in way over his head, and now you're the one suffering.

"You idiot," you hiss, pulling on his hair again, "why the fuck did you think you could do more pushups than Jungkook?"

"I don't know! We were tipsy and it seemed possible at the time!"

Releasing his hair, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply.

"Why am I being punished for your actions?" you mumble against his skin, then you ask, voice full of futile hope. "What if you just... don't do it?"

"Then I have to buy him a new mattress. He cut his mattress with scissors to make it fit into his bed frame and now it's all fucked up."

You give yourself a minute to think. There has to be a solution to your distress. You just gotta think. Think, brain, think!

And then you remember. Seokjin is still a man.

You lean back to look at him properly, straightening your position on his lap. You give him your biggest puppy dog eyes before you say, "I promise I will blow you every day from now on if you keep the hair."

If he was drinking water, you're fairly certain that he would've choked. Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise, his skin turning a dozen shades warmer, blushing from his cheeks all the way to the top of his ears.

Bingo.

"What?" he asks, like this is something so scandalous.

You lean forward to pepper kisses all over his face, putting more weight on your offer. "I promise," you say, pecking his cute cheek, "to blow you," then his forehead, "every single day," then his nose, "from now on," and finally his lips.

You linger near his mouth, not pulling away just yet. Your lips brush against his once more until you feel his hands tighten on your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck to hold him closer as you press forward, giving him a proper kiss to seal the deal.

Seokjin practically melts underneath you. Victory is so close that you can taste it. You're doing this for the greater good of mankind, for Grape Jinnie. Jungkook can fuck off with his half seasoned, half fried bullshit.

But then, Seokjin abruptly rips away from you to shriek, nearly blowing your eardrums out. The suddenness of his movements almost make you tumble off the couch.

"No, don't try to tempt me! Mattresses are expensive as fuck!"

It's been a few hours. He should be back any minute now.

Ever since Seokjin left to go to his hair appointment after having to peel you off of him because you were clinging to his body like a goddamn koala, you've been wallowing in your misery. You even busted out the big guns - Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream (with real peanut butter cups!) - to help you through this difficult time.

You're in full grieving mode now. Goddamnit. Fate is a cruel mistress.

Or in this case, Jungkook. Jungkook is a cruel mistress. That fucking guy.

When you hear the door open and the subsequent clanging of Seokjin's keys as he hangs them on one of the hooks in the entryway, you prepare to give him the biggest pout you can manage.

But then, he comes into view a few seconds later, and you gasp. You actually gasp. Before he knows what's happening, you're rising from the couch and sprinting toward him, launching into his arms with the biggest smile on your face like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You're still a grape!" you squeal joyously.

Seokjin lets out a surprise Oof! at the sudden force of your body knocking the breath out of him.

"What a warm welcome," he mutters. "I don't think you've ever been this happy to see me."

"What happened?!" you ask, eyes wide, grin even wider. "Did you change your mind because you love me so much?"

You run your hands through his hair to make sure that it's real, that you're not hallucinating this because you just love the purple so goddamn much.

And it is! It's still here! His hair is still that luscious shade of purple that you adore with your entire being.

Seokjin eyes you for a moment before he says, "I compromised with Jungkook. Did something else instead."

"What did you do?"

"I got a tattoo."

"You what?!"

"He said I wouldn't have to dye my hair if I got a tattoo of his choosing."

"Oh, no," you try to sound sympathetic but fail miserably. You cover your mouth with your hand to hide your smile, already sensing the absolute crackhead chaos that will ensue in a matter of minutes. Having been friends with Jungkook for years, you know that dude comes up with the craziest shit sometimes.

Seokjin turns around and pulls up his shirt, and you almost die from the fit of ugly snorting laughter that immediately rips itself free from your mouth. His skin underneath the transparent cling film is still slightly red, but the letters adorning the expanse of his lower back is clear as day.

You cannot find it in yourself to blink, not when the black ink is just staring at you like that. The font, so formal and classic, and yet the content of it... what a contrast.

"Kim Seokjin!" you wheeze, wiping tears from your eyes and struggling to catch your breath. "How could you possibly think that this is a better idea than to just dye your hair!"

"You begged me to keep the hair!"

"I did," you agree, clutching your stomach as giggles continue wracking through your whole body. It's almost painful at this point. "But I don't want my boyfriend to have a tramp stamp that says fucking Chicken in Times New Roman!"

"It was either this," he says, turning back to face you, "or a sketch of his head on a chicken's body."

"What is up with him and chickens? Is that his new thing now?"

"I don't fucking know!"

"Well, thank you for doing that for me," you say appreciatively as you pull him in for a kiss, which isn't very graceful because you're still tittering the whole time. "But please tell me that's not permanent."

Seokjin stays quiet, his eyes dropping to the floor, and you stop laughing immediately.

"Oh my god," you say. "Is the Chicken tramp stamp permanent?!"

"No," he finally admits after a moment of hanging it over your head. As funny as the whole thing is, you do not want the love of your life to walk around sporting the most ridiculous tattoo in human history. "It's supposed to fade after a month."

You lean into him again, heaving a giant sigh of relief and wrapping your arms around his neck. One of your hands go for his hair again, weaving through the soft locks with your fingers because how could you not? "I love you, Grape," you say, pecking his cheek with a grin.

Seokjin rolls his eyes affectionately, but returns a peck to your own cheek. "I have a tramp stamp of the word Chicken and my parents might disown me for that, but at least you get to keep your Grape Boy," he says, making you giggle again.

"Because you love me so much, right?"

"Hmm. You're lucky I do."

You give him another kiss, one full of gratitude, for indulging your antics. When you move to return to the couch, Seokjin tugs on your wrist, pulling you back into him.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong," he says, acting all coy and shit, "but I recall you making me a promise earlier, no? What was it again?"

541 notes · View notes

kitthepurplepotato · 4 months

Text

Chapter 8 - Fooling Around with Pro Hero Deku?!

(18+ but half of it can be read by everyone!)

Summary: Sharing a hot tub with the person you love the most can go two ways; it can get really emotional or really hot. This one was both.

Important note: This chapter has 18+ parts but there is a note written in red when the cheekyness starts and then there is a green note where it ends. The chapter has some important information and plot so please read the “safe” bits even if you skip the “action”. Thank you!

Warnings: Sexual content, swear words

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Are you ready to have a splash with me?” Izuku mutters cheekily as he leads you towards his car. Your whole face becomes a big flashing red sign.

“Your mom is still watching.” You giggle to yourself, as you wave to Izuku’s family for the last time before you sit into Izuku’s badass sports car to be taken home.

“Mom would be thrilled about my evening plans, she’s been bugging me to do something fun for ages.” Deku answers like he’s talking about the weather and not about you two getting naked in a hot tub like two random characters in a bad Hollywood movie.

“You are surprisingly chill about this.” You mumble with your face still red. Izuku only giggles at that.

“Well, we have a common changing room in the agency and it was the same in UA, so I’m not… well, a lot of people had seen me naked. I’m also in a lot of underwear ads. I have no reason to be ashamed of my body as you’ve seen the most of it already. I’m just excited to share this intimate moment with you, get to know you a bit more… yeah. I’m just happy to spend some time with you. I know I’m not the most perfect person body-wise, I have a lot of scars and a lot of freckles and most of them were photoshopped out of the pictures, but I know you won’t judge me. I trust you.” Izuku smiles as he turns right with perfect precision. “Okay, that’s a lie, I am a little bit ashamed and a tiny bit worried, I mean, I have a lot of freckles on my bum and…”

“Oh my god, Izu! Shut the fuck up!” You yell, mortified, but also, somehow amused. Honestly, Izuku having a freckled bum was one of your head canons so you are more than happy to hear it’s actually true; back when you accidentally took a peak at him from your window you didn’t have time to actually access his bits and bobs properly, plus it would’ve been inappropriate to do so back then so you missed this tiny detail.

“Your freckled bum sounds adorable.” You mutter under your nose with a mischievous smile.

“Yeah?” He mutters back, face red as a lobster. “Okay, now I’m a little bit nervous.”

You can’t help but giggle at that.

“You are so cute.”

~•🥦•~

“So how do you want to do this?” You mumble under your nose with a tiny blush on your face. Izuku’s smile is so full of fondness it makes your heart flutter in your chest; he looks so fucking innocent right now, wrapped in a massive All Might towel like a big burrito while you are still in your clothes, way too ashamed to take them off yet.

“Well… maybe you should get in first. I won’t peek!” He sits up straight, like a good schoolboy. “Then you close your eyes and I come in too. Then we can decide on the rest later. The hot tub makes a lot of bubbles so we won’t see anything unless we want to. Which is fine by me by the way. If you… want to look.” You are not the only one shying away from this now but Izuku tries his best to keep himself determined. You both want to get closer to each other, that’s true, but even as an adult, getting naked in front of someone for the first time is always a bit… well… awkward.

And okay, fuck’s sake, Midoriya Izuku looks like a fucking Greek god, while you are literally a nicely shaped potato. It’s not just about being awkward, it’s about the massive difference between you two. You don’t have a six pack. You don’t have nicely sculpted body, you are just… normal. Not bad, not ugly, but nothing compared to Izuku’s perfect body.

Fuck, you are stressing over nothing. He doesn’t care about that. He never did. You are being stupid…

“Sweets, we don’t need to do this if you are not ready.” Izuku grabs your hand, his finger drawing circles on your skin, his eyes full of worry.

“It’s not that, Izu. I just want… I want you to like me. But you work with all those heroes and they all look so…”

“Stop that. Right now.” Izuku reprimands, his eyes dark and protective. “You don’t know how much I…” He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and the darkness from his eyes. “I thought about you… so much. Every time I touch you, I try to imagine how you look like under all the layers and I think I have a slight idea already… this sounds so creepy but isn’t it normal? Thinking about this stuff when you love someone? Wanting to see them without all the covers, see them raw so you can love every single flaw, every single detail just as much as you love their soul?” Izuku’s hand makes it’s way to your waist, then under your shirt, caressing your side, moving his thumb over your soft skin, mapping out the area with nothing but wonder in his sparkly eyes. “I’m obsessed with you, Sweet Pea. I’ve always been. From the first time I saw you. I’m even obsessed with the way you sleep, with the way you draw, I love your shapes I love your colors… I love you.”

“Izu…” Your whole face is red. His words, his touches… they are scorching hot, they make you burn with desire, the flames licking at your skin as his fingers wander around your sides. You put your hand on his under your shirt and his movement stutters; he looks at you with nothing but worry, like he did something wrong but it’s actually quite the opposite; you move his hand to the middle of your chest to make him feel your heart thudding like a maniac, just after those few words. “This is what you do to me. Can you feel it?”

Izuku only nods, his fingers splayed out completely, assessing, studying the undiscovered area. His touch feels amazing, like tiny sparks of lighting going through your veins with every minuscule motion. The tips of his fingers aren’t soft, they are full of callouses, rough and broken, but they are Izuku’s so it still feels pleasant.

“Can I… ask you for a favor, Sweet Pea?” Izuku mutters, eyes full with want.

“Anything, love.” You whisper, completely entranced.

“Today… I only want to see you. And touch you. Get to know you. Nothing else.” He admits. “If I go too far, can you stop me? Even if… even if it’s good, even if it’s okay with you… I always wanted to do this. To just… be vulnerable with someone, be naked and enjoy each others company without uhm… ending up in the bed. I know it sounds weird, but…”

“No, I understand. I will stop you. But only because you asked me to.” You admit, not able to keep eye contact with him. Damn, it’s not going to be easy to say no when he looks at you with eyes this hungry but if this is what he wants…

“Can you start now? Because I’m really struggling.” Izuku giggles while he nuzzles your tummy. You both start laughing like two idiots while your hand finds its way into Izuku’s curls to play around. It’s not that his words doesn’t uhm… make you feel things but he said that with such an adorable tone you just can’t stop smiling.

“You close your eyes, calm down, then see you in the hot tub, yeah?”

“How am I supposed to calm down when I know what you’re about to do?!” Izuku legitimately whines into your face, his voice needy and so so honest it makes your heart hurt. He’s finally himself right now, just him being a silly and a uhm… horny nerd, not the hero, not the famous guy from the headboards, just Izuku, the young geek from the neighborhood. You absolutely love when Izuku goes all unhinged because it’s so fucking rare to see him like that.

Maybe, after this, he will be able to be like this more and more until all his insecurities fade away completely - That’s what you think about as you shed your clothes right by the hot tub, leaving the clothing nicely folded on the bench next to it.

Okay. You can do this. You have your towel in an arms length, in case you feel like it’s too much. By the look of it, Izuku won’t be able to see too much while the hot tub is on, the bubbles are way too frequent for him to take a good look.

You just need to sit in and wait for your godly boyfriend to join you and make sure he doesn’t… uhm… do anything he doesn’t really want to as per his instructions. Easy.

“I’m coming in!” Izuku announces himself, still in his All Might towel. He makes his way over with big, confident steps but stutters as he takes in the sight in front of him; your naked body hidden by nothing but the bubbles, your arms around your naked chest for extra safety, cheeks ruddy from embarrassment. Izuku swallows hard, his whole face red as he comes closer and sits down on the side of the hot tub, still in his towel. “Hi, Sweets.” Izuku drops his eyes to the floor with a shy smile on his face. He pops his legs into the water, splashing around like a child.

“Hi.” You mutter with a tiny smile. “Want to join me?” You reach out for him, but Izuku starts muttering random, incoherent stuff, clearly about to combust and you can’t help but laugh at that, all your embarrassment gone just from the sight of him.

“Uhm, yeah, I will, I swear I will it’s just uhm… you are… naked… and pretty and uhm… I don’t think I thought this through, oh my god…”

“Izu, just come in. It’s too late to run away now.” You giggle, forcing him to take your hand.

“Stop pulling me!” Izuku yells, his eyes terrified. Did you just attempt to pull the guy into the water? Yes, you just did. “Let me put my towel down, oh my god, Y/N!” Izuku stumbles and falls into the tub, water splashing all over, the sound of it louder than the happy giggles coming from you. “How will I get out now?! I have no towel, Sweets!!!” Izuku yelps, his voice high pitched, his face facing the other way out of embarrassment.

“We can share mine…” You purr into his ear while you snake your arms around his waist to pull him closer. Your breasts bounce back a bit as you push yourself into his back and you swear you can see smoke coming out of Izuku’s ears.

“Sweets, your… your bosom… is touching my back.” Izuku mutters as the blood explodes out of his nose, like in those stupid animes.

“I thought you want to get to know me better…” you mutter back, a little bit embarrassed now that the adrenaline is wearing off. “Sorry, I’ll stop bullying you.” You finally give the poor guy some peace. Izuku takes a deep breath and before you have time to get a good look at his beautiful back muscles, this absolute maniac tears the towel off himself under the water, and throws it to the other side of the garden, almost down into the street.

“Well, I wanted to show you my tattoo properly without flashing anything you don’t want to see yet, but now you missed your chance to see it.” Izuku grumbles with a red face, fake-offended.

“I don’t mind seeing your peachy ass, Izu.” You tease him but apparently, it doesn’t work anymore; Izuku only rolls his eyes with a fond smile on his face.

“Are you sure you can handle the sight? Even Kacchan admitted that my ass is juicy. I’m quite sure Calvin Klein likes my ass more than they like my personality.” The green head sighs. He’s in a sassy mood. You absolutely adore Izuku in a sassy mood. “They have all those fancy suits and shirts and cool trousers yet all I get is underwear. I’m offended.”

“Are you trying to show off, love?” You snicker, slowly sneaking closer your boyfriend, hoping for a cheeky cuddle. He doesn’t lean towards you yet, probably still a bit shy, but that’s fine.

“Maybe? I mean my butt is probably the only part of me that’s not full of scars…” Izuku looks away with eyes full of sadness. You hate when he does that, but you’ll make sure to change his way of seeing himself as soon as you can.

“I love your scars though.” You caress the massive scar around Izuku’s elbow; it’s the biggest one of them all, sprawled through half of his arm. It’s the one he got when he was only 14 years old. “One day, I want you to tell me the story behind all of them while I kiss them all. That’s one of my dreams, really. To do that. I want to kiss your insecurities away because you are the most beautiful human being in the whole wide word, Midoriya Izuku.” You stretch yourself to give your favorite person a kiss, absolutely unaware that your boobs are out of the water now.

(Warning: mention of nipples, boob touching)

Izuku yelps into your kiss and covers them with his hand right away; again, silly mistake, because just as his rough palm touches your sensitive nipple you can’t help but make a surprised noise, something between a moan and a yelp. Izuku moves his hand away with a high pitched “sorry” but you are not having any of that; you take his hand into yours and put them back where they were. “You can touch. If you want. You wanted to get to know my body, so… just… do it.” You stutter, half terrified and half… well… excited.

I mean, fucking Midoriya Izuku, your favorite hero is fondling your fucking boobies in a hot tub, of course you are excited, who wouldn’t be?

“Oh…Kay… thank you, Sweet Pea. I’ll be careful.” The tension in the air is… well… there is uhm… tension. Okay, where did your brain go?! Hello?! Words?! What’s going on?! Who is this?! Where are you?! Why is it so hot in here?!

(You okay to read along for a bit.)

“You okay, love?” Suddenly, Izuku’s hand leaves your chest and caresses your cheek; he pushes some stray hairs out of your face with a gentle smile on his face.

“I think I got overexcited and left this universe for a second, sorry.” You admit sheepishly. “You know, I’m kinda sharing a hot tub with pro hero Deku and we are both naked… my fangirl self is yelling in my head.”

Izuku next laugh is so free and careless it makes your heart melt completely.

“What does your fangirl-self want to do about it?” Izuku teases you back. You can’t help but yelp at how stupid your last sentence was.

“Nothing! Really! Nothing! I’m okay like this! Chilling in the hot tub!” You whine, red faced.

“You want to touch me? Want to feel me up, Baby?” Izuku’s face is right by your ears, his voice deep and husky, his shenanigans followed by a cheeky, innocent giggle.

“Stop teasing me, Mr. Perfect Muscles!” You full on yell into Izuku’s face now, absolutely mortified. He can’t just grumble into your ears like that, even as a joke! Oh my god, that went straight to places where nothing was supposed to go today. That’s just not fair.

“Sorry, I’ll stop. I swear.” Izuku giggles. “Except if you don’t want me too, my favorite little fangirl.” He grumbles again, making a flirty face which looks absolutely like Hawks’s.

“That’s how you wanna play this game, hot stuff? Take this, you flirty little chicken.” Your arms reach towards Izuku’s armpits. He doesn’t have time to defend himself before you start to tickle him menacingly, right where it tickles the most.

“Chicken?! Sweets, stop… haha… oh my god, stop… haha… please I beg you I’m sorry!” Izuku laughs, his eyes pleading but you are on a mission here; you need to show Izuku who wears the pants here! “Okay, if… haha… you don’t stop, I’ll stop… haha… you myself.” Izuku grabs your waist and sends you flying in the air; now needless to say the nerd didn’t think this action through at all because first of all, THIS IS TOO FUCKING HIGH, and second of all… well. You are still naked.

It takes Izuku a few seconds to realize his mistake and he catches you as quickly as he can, even with his eyes closed out of respect; he puts you in his lap, and mumbles sorry then takes a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Stupid nerd…” you grumble, your red face hidden in the crook of his neck. You try to make yourself comfortable, but Izuku puts his hands on your shoulders, his face just as red as yours.

“Sweets, don’t move… I made a mistake.” He mutters; he makes such a constipated face you can barely stop yourself from laughing.

“What…” Something twitches right under your… uhm… well… that. “Oh.”

Warning: 18+ for a bit, scroll down to the green writing to continue, there are important bits there!

“Sorry…”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll…” You try to carefully move away but the friction is just enough for the both of you to feel the pleasure of it. You’ll never forget Izuku’s face when your folds touched his half-hard member; his eyes are dark and clouded, almost watery and he’s biting his lips to not make a sound, to not show how much he liked it, but it’s all in vein; his face says it all as he can’t stop looking into your eyes, he can’t stop drinking the sight in front of him, he grabs your waist to stop you from moving away too far, desperate to feel you, desperate to be touched… “Izu…” You whisper as your body slowly goes back to its original place, right on top of Izuku’s laying member. “You don’t want this, remember?” You mutter into his mouth as you leave open mouthed kisses on his lips. His grips gets stronger, his restraint so close to snapping, but Izuku fights against the urges, even as another wave of pleasure goes through his spine when you straddle the hero’s hips and sit back down.

“I love you. I respect you. You are my everything, Sweet Pea. I would die for you.” You are not sure if Izuku is even conscious by the way he mutters nonsense into your ear; his hips snap forward, the length of his member shimming between your folds without any kind of penetration but the feelings of something so soft yet hard rubbing against your core makes you moan out loud; you look up at your boyfriend, into his eyes full of tears and terror and you stop your movements completely; something is wrong, something is not right, something is…

“Izuku, it’s fine. We don’t need to do anything. But we can also just… uhm… do this? It feels nice, isn’t it? It’s okay to want to feel nice, Izuku. It’s not a sin to have desires. I love you. And I want to see your face all scrunched up from how good it feels. I want to make you happy.” You try to smile at him, your hand caressing his cheeks to soothe him.

“This is so dirty, Sweets. You deserve better than this. I want to cherish you. I want to earn this. I want…” You can’t help but sigh at that. It’s a sweet thought but it’s also so silly; you don’t feel like you are being used for pleasure right now, it’s actually quite the opposite; this position is so intimate, so special, it’s just you and him surrounded by nothing but warmth, holding into each other, loving each other, helping each other to wind down after a stressful week…

“Izuku, what part of this is dirty to you? We love each other, don’t we? Is it a sin to feel each other? To enjoy this closeness? Do I look offended? Look into my eyes and tell me what you see.” You try your best to ignore his twitching member laying under you for a second to prove your point.

“Well, your pupils are really wide. Your eyes shine really beautifully. Your cheeks are flushed. Your lips look really tasty… I mean healthy. You look really beautiful. I love you.” He stares into your eyes like you are the one who hung the starts in the sky. You absolutely love the way he looks at you right now, it actually makes you believe this is real, not just a fleeting dream you are having every night to get away from the reality. You might be a creative person but you would never be able to come up with such a beautiful piece of art as Izuku’s face is right now.

“That’s… not what I asked.” You giggle into his neck shyly. “Can you tell me why you think this is wrong? I want to understand you.” You stop your shenanigans, trying your best to not touch in those places, but even without realizing it, Izuku pushes you right back. You decide not to comment on it and to school your face when the pleasure hits you.

“It’s… it’s dirty. You are so pure, so perfect, I… I don’t want to ruin this with my filthy desires. You are so much more than that to me. I don’t want to use you…” Izuku mutters while his hands caress your sides soothingly, the touch full of love and care.

Green zone, also, this bit is important.

“Izu, do you want to tell me what happened to you… before me?” You move your hand to the man’s cheeks, slowly caressing his ruddy cheek to calm him down a bit. Izuku visibly tenses at the mention, but sighs into the space between you, his muscles relaxing once more. Izuku has a lot of freckles on his shoulders, probably from the sunny weather and it makes his bulky figure loose it’s menacing edge; he’s just a boy, a young guy, lost in his own head, lost in his memories, a young guy full of insecurities etched into his heart by someone in the past who certainly does not matter anymore.

“There was one person. A person I thought I loved but… I don’t think I did. She certainly didn’t love me but it took me months to realize that. Everyone knew, everyone tried to tell me but I didn’t listen. I was too happy to feel needed, to not be a “Deku” for once.” Izuku tenses again so you decide to hug him tight, or as tight as you can hug a person sitting in a hot tub. You touch in a lot of places, but it doesn’t make you feel desire anymore; Izuku’s mental health is so much more important than a few minutes of pleasure. “I’ve always been a bit behind when it came to anything sexual, I was too focused on my hero work, on my notes, on my research to even think about uhm… trying stuff, even alone. This person… didn’t care about me feeling this way and I was too scared to say no but even though it felt nice I felt… dirty. I felt used. I felt like that but I still did it, every time she asked me to but with every single time I hated myself more and more for being so weird about this and she started to make me feel small and useless after a while and it wasn’t just about sex, it was about everything; my clothes, my scars, my body; my legs being too muscly, my freckles, my hair, I was too soft, too boyish…” Needless to say you are halfway between yelling and crying your heart out as you listen to his story. “It took me several months and Katsuki’s constant begging for me to finally realize she doesn’t love me, she just loves the money and my name. I was nothing but a stepping stone for her. We had an ugly break up. She said a lot of things I will never forget. It took me a long time to even be able to look into the mirror without frowning. I thought I’ll die alone. Then you came into my life.” Izuku pushes you a bit further so he can look into your teary eyes with nothing but love. “You turned my life upside down in the best way possible. I still have insecurities, clearly but… they are fading away. You are healing me. Thank you.” Izuku leaves a tiny kiss on your lips and pulls you closer once again, his body flush against yours.

“So what we just… did… well, almost… reminded you of this? I’m sorry for being so pushy… I didn’t mean any harm, Izu…” You finally let go of your tears, let yourself be the vulnerable one.

“No… I mean yes but it’s not your fault. I thought I am being the one using you this time, not the other way around. I see how stupid I was now that my head is clear. I’m sorry for ruining our hot tub date.” Izuku mutters into your hair while his arms tighten around your middle.

“You didn’t ruin anything, love.” You smile. “We got to know each other, didn’t we? We even played around a little bit and it was really nice. You told me something important. I learnt something new. It was a good date, Izu.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Izuku plays with your hair with a lovesick gaze in his eyes, his hips moving just a tiny bit under you.

“Oh, you do. You are perfect. Just what I always wanted.” You mumble into his hair, enjoying the way his curls tickle your cheek.

“I mean, I am the hero you are obsessed with…” Izuku teases, finally back to his old self.

“Hey! That’s not what I meant at all and you know that!” You giggle into his hair then move to his ear to give it a little, reprimanding bite.

“Sweets, uhm…” Izu pushes you away again to look at you. “How… much did I ruin the mood? Would you be uhm… interested in continuing?”

The look Izuku gives you while he says that goes right to your… well.

“Are you sure? We don’t need to. I can wait.” You try to reassure him but Izuku only shakes his head at that.

“Haha, I think… I think I want to fool around with the person I love the most. It’s my off-day. I can do whatever I want.” He says giddily, moving you down again. This time, you don’t try to fake nonchalance.

Warning: 18+ until the end, sexual content, (NO penetration), I don’t know how to tag this?!

“Uhm.” Izuku swallows around nothing, his face scrunched from pleasure already. You move your hips tentatively, shimmy yourself to the side of his length and for the first time since you two have been together, Izuku makes the sweetest voice, high pitched and so-so hot it makes you feel things down there, way past the pleasure of the friction. You try it again, and again, the movement more and more deliberate; your folds hug the length of him as you move from the tip to the end, without penetration, just you massaging his member by moving back and forth on the skin, giving yourself pleasure just as much as you give pleasure to him. “Sweets… that feels really good…” Izuku moves his hips up to help with the friction and you can’t help but choke on your next words, not even sure what they were supposed to be in the first place. “Is it nice for you too, love?

Ahh, Izuku is a guy who needs reassurance and talks a lot. You are not surprised by this revelation.

“Really nice, I love how close I am to you. Can we sleep naked tonight?”

Izuku only giggles at that which becomes a moan as he snaps his hips up again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea but I can sleep in my underwear again?” You make another move, and another and another, getting closer and closer to your climax with every slide. “Can you sleep without a shirt? I loved the feeling of your… uhm… bouncy bits.” Izuku gets redder and redder as the time goes by, his movements under you careful, soft and so-so loving it hurts your heart. Your hands are in Izuku’s hair now, the curls bouncy under your palm. It might be only your imagination but you swear there are tiny, green sparkles around Midoriya, they look like the sparks of One For All acting out from all the pleasure Izuku’s getting from your shenanigans. You decide to move a bit quicker, with less hesitance, chasing your own sparks that erupt inside you with every move and every touch.

“You can touch them if you want.” You mumble, absolutely out of it and Izuku indeed goes for it; he moves his head towards your chest, leaves tiny kisses around your breast, then pops your bud into his mouth, only for a second and you see stars right away; your grip on his hair tightens and Izuku moans into your breast, needy and impatient as he snaps himself up again, chasing his climax while his mouth wanders from your chest to your neck then up to your lips. The kiss you get next is nothing like the ones you’ve got before; this one is scorching hot, dripping from desire, needy but somehow so full of emotions and unsaid words - Izuku talks to you even when he’s not, every movement full of words he’s too shy to say.

“We should stop, I’m gonna…” Izuku pants into your ear and licks into it, the smallest of moans coming out of his mouth as his movements become more sporadic. It’s absolutely ridiculous how you didn’t even really do anything yet it feels like the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

“Too late.” You whine, your words followed by a deep kiss and that’s when it hits you; something snaps inside you, makes you feel cold and hot at the same time, your moan muffled by Izuku’s mouth; it takes Izuku a few seconds to understand what just happened and it doesn’t take him long to follow; one look at your blissed out face was all he needed to come, his grip tight on your sides as he comes down from his high together with you.

“This is the cheekiest thing I’ve ever done, Sweets.” Izuku pants with a massive, shit-eating grin on his face. You’ll never forget his blissed out face. Never. Fucking hell, you would absolutely be thrilled to have a second round like… right now. The pink cheeks, the half-lidded eyes, the sparks dancing around his whole body, even under water…

“Do you want to hear something even cheekier?” You whisper into his ear, barely able to conceal your giggles.

“Tell me.”

“We need to clean the whole hot tub. Today.” You finally let your laugh out and Izuku snorts.

“Worth it.”

“Absolutely.”

Spoiler: Both of you almost change your mind about that after cleaning the fucking hot tub for two whole hours.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Honestly? I have no idea how this happened but it felt so right for these two that I decided to keep it even if it feels a bit cringe. Izuku definitely have some issues to sort out, but we love him.

- Also, I didn’t forget about the secret room! I have it planned in already but the reveal is going to happen in the last plot!

- I hope you enjoyed this part, please send me your thoughts! 🥦

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #Deku x reader #pro hero Deku x reader #mha fanfic #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya izuku x y/n #midoriya izuku x reader

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