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maxlarens · 3 months

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I got a lot to say so it might be long,

starting with, thank you for the Charles smau and the Lando fic <3

it took me time to choose an emoji lol but I've been doing an internship and time goes by way too quickly, but I decided to go for the strawberry one 🍓

and since you said you wanted to write for driver! reader, and that she was very intense about driving, maybe you can write something about her racing while she's sick/not feeling well but she still wins the race

woo hi again!!! literally no big deal! i hope ur internship is going well, it’s awesome that you’re doing one!! but yeah literally real life is always the priority as much as i’d also like to spend all my time on here lol. but anyway yay the strawberry is super cute 🍓🥺

and YES lol driver!reader is consuming my thoughts right now. i have other things i should be writing instead of this but i smashed this out in a few days😭 i decided not to make it a win because i have a thing brewing for driver!readers first win and i didn’t want to use up all my ideas for that. anyway!!! as usual thank u for the ask and pls enjoyyy 🤗

OP: extraordinary machine

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: you push yourself to your limits. (also sorry i simply don't know enough technical terms about racing for this to be fully accurate but i hope it works)

word count: 3.4k+

Here is a fact— you’ve got a fever of 39.4 degrees.

Here is another, indisputable fact— you’re racing in Imola today.

The fever had come on overnight after a persistent tickle in your throat all weekend. A mildly sore throat had turned rapidly to a snotty nose, full body chills and sweat pouring off you like you’d just run a marathon. You’re wearing a puffer jacket over your racing suit and it’s twenty-nine degrees out. You feel freezing, you feel delirious, and you’re eating Sour Patch Kids by the handful to keep the sugar rush going. Your race engineer, Rachel, keeps telling you that it’s okay if you can’t race. George can step in, I promise. You keep telling her I’m fine. I’m fine. I can race. But the expression on her face says she doesn’t believe you.

You’re telling practically everyone who’ll listen that you’re getting in that fucking car today. Rachel, George, your mum who keeps calling. Lewis keeps looking at you like you’re about to keel over and die and you want to scream at him you did this! Brazil 2015. You had a fever. You got on the podium. If I can’t do this and you can, what does that mean? But you don’t because that’s your 39.4-degree fever talking and this isn’t about being better than Lewis. It’s about knowing without a doubt that you can still get in that car and race your ass off.

Your phone keeps buzzing with texts from Susie that reassure you that you’d be disappointing no one at all if you had to let George take over this race. You’re not letting down women everywhere and you’re not letting down the team. I know Susie, you keep saying, but I’m still racing.

You know you’ve got to convince Toto when Rachel starts a hurried conversation with George and he starts grabbing his fireproofs like it’s a sure thing he’ll be driving in your place. Bundled up in your coat like it’s the middle of winter, you stomp over to Toto’s office and barge in.

“I’m racing,” you tell him without any preamble.

His head snaps to look at you, expression only mildly surprised— not that you would even notice if you didn’t spend so much time around him. He gives you a once over, eyes lingering pointedly on your jacket and then he raises his eyebrows, “It is twenty-nine degrees outside.”

You suck your teeth in frustration, “I know. The car will be hot. I can race.”

He frowns.

You plead, “Toto. Do not take me out of that car. I can do this.”

He shakes his head, “I can see you sweating from here. You’re not well.”

You shake your head frantically, ignoring how your vision starts spinning, “Let me race. If I fuck up you can put George in the car for Monaco. If I fuck up you can even replace me. I don’t care. Just let me drive today.”

Toto’s face pinches in the way it does when he’s considering something, you can see cogs turning in his head as he evaluates what you’ve said and decides if he should listen to it.

He sighs, “I am not putting that kind of ultimatum on you,” your heart stutters and stops in your chest, and you hold your breath, “Okay. Against my better judgement, I will let you race today.”

You let out an audible breath, it edges out into a sob that makes your aching body curl into itself. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes for a moment to suppress the urge to give in to your fever. It would be easier to give up, it would be easier to let George take your seat for the race so you could crawl into bed and cry the fever out. But none of this has ever been easy for you. You’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, you won’t forfeit a race and let people say you took the easy way out.

You look up. Toto looks concerned.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

You practically stumble onto the asphalt before the national anthem, passing your coat off to Rachel while your trainer wipes your forehead with a towel as if you’ve just finished a full-body workout. Your shoulders feel tense, you can’t stand up straight without shuddering so you’re hunched over awkwardly hoping it doesn’t come off looking too strange.

People are still milling about, setting things up while the drivers assemble. You don’t really notice on account of the fever state you’re in, but you end up standing between the McLaren boys. You must brush against Oscar because he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a line and his eyes wide like a puppy dog. You get lost in them a little— because of the fever. Definitely.

“Dude,” Oscar says to you, “You’re really hot.”

On your other side, Lando breaks into a fit of laughter. You frown, your brain trying the puzzle through the sentence. You feel foggy, your eyes feel heavy. You need more Sour Patch Kids, or a shot of espresso, or five Red Bulls. Max could swing it for you.

Oscar leans past you and swats at Lando’s shoulder, “She’s burning up, stupid.”

Lando’s laughter pauses, and he says seriously, “Oh shit.”

Suddenly, you’re being twisted around and you’re wincing at the contact on your shoulder that makes it ache even more. Lando puts a hand on your forehead and then immediately rips it away.

“Eugh. You’re sweaty.”

The back of Oscar’s hand replaces it. You twist away, brushing it off.

“You’ve got a fever,” he tells you, his voice thick with concern for you, “Have you told anyone? Does Toto know? Lewis?”

Instead of answering you press a hand over your eyes and crack your neck, trying to work through some of the stiffness in your back. You roll your shoulders and stand up as straight as possible, pushing through that aching, sickly feeling that runs through your whole body. When you finally drag your hand from your face— a thin sheen of sweat coming with it— Oscar is staring at you with a deep-set frown on his mouth. At his shoulder, Lando looks at you with a markedly less severe, but still concerned, expression.

“I’m fine, Oscar,” you insist.

You’re not. He knows you’re not. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want to seem weak. Not barely thirty minutes before the race. You can’t have either of them thinking you’d be easy for an overtake or that you’ll back out of a fight first. Off the track, fine— you’ve been vulnerable and honest with both of them at times. On the track is a different story. This is Formula One. You’re not here to make friends. They are not here to make friends.

“Mm,” Oscar hums, “Pretty sure you’re not.”

“You’re sweating bullets,” Lando adds, “Can see it from here.”

Something white-hot and pissed off flares up your spine. Oscar is not this kind of person, even on track; but the suspicion that he’s just trying to eliminate you as competition rises anyway. You think it because if the situation were flipped, you’d be weighing the pros and cons of having a sick driver on the track. Their weaknesses, what it means if they’re distracted. It doesn’t make you a good person, but you’re already pretty sure you aren’t one.

“I am fine,” you bite.

Oscar’s expression drops. Into something not quite offended… accepting, maybe? Resigned? It closes off to you, is what you mean. That’s fine, you’re trying to close yourself off to him. You’re re-drawing a line that you’ve been crossing without a thought for at least two years now. You’re not here to make googly eyes at Oscar and let him put his hand on your fever-ridden forehead and have him reprimand out-of-line, so-called professionals for you. You’re here to get in that car every Sunday and put your life on the line for a shiny trophy and fucking glory. Even if you’ve got a fever. Even if you’ve got a weird crush on Oscar Piastri.

“I’m racing,” you add in a different tone, feeling as if you’ve been a bit harsh on a well-meaning Oscar, even if you mean what you’re thinking.

Oscar nods, and says, “Okay,” in a way that really means, ‘If you say so, then it is’.

In the car, on the tarmac, sitting in your starting grid position, you’re shitting bricks.

Your cheeks are squeezed tight into your helmet, you can feel sweat, slick and soaking through your balaclava. Your arms hurt, your legs hurt, your ass hurts where it’s pressed into the seat. You’re not crying, but your mouth— hidden away by your helmet— is open like you’re about to. Set into a grimace that you breathe raggedly out of. Toto says something over the radio before the lights go out, you don’t hear it. You’re too busy regretting how earnestly you’d begged him to let you race. It would have been better if George had taken over. It might have been better if you’d passed out during the national anthem so you really had no choice but to sit it out. No one could say you weren’t committed to this sport if that had happened. They’d have plenty to say about women and their weak constitutions though.

You’re on autopilot when the lights go out. One second you’re freaking out like it’s your first time in a car, the next second everything is fading into background noise and you’re fighting a Ferrari and a McLaren for your original grid position. Twenty of you tear down the straight to turn two and you find yourself slotting easily into what you think is P4. Ferrari— not the same one— in front of you. Your mirrors reveal the McLaren behind you. It’s Oscar, you’re sure. You can tell by the way he sticks to your ass. Every nudge of the car you make he makes with you.

You press the radio button, “That Piastri behind?”

Crackle, “Yeah.”

“Knew it. He’s up my butt, Rach.”

“Okay. Go faster then. Not sure what to tell you.”

You make a face. You weren’t looking for sarky advice, you were trying to commiserate. You press the button and make a vaguely mocking neh-neh noise that gets a laugh and then radio silence because you’re supposed to be fucking concentrating. Which, okay, fair.

You press the throttle, done with trying to manage your tyres for the moment and taking Rachel’s comment as permission. You tear away from Oscar, stopping his fight to overtake you through the chicane in its tracks. You start slowly gaining on the Ferrari in front of you, its red rear wing growing closer and closer.

“Sainz in front?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup,” Rachel confirms before rattling off some lap times when you ask for them.

By lap thirty-something, you’re on Sainz’s ass like Oscar was on yours. You’re fighting him through every chicane, threatening him on the straights and generally behaving in a way that you know for a fact is putting him on edge. But Carlos isn’t giving up P3 without a fight.

A safety car goes out around lap forty, and you pit. Everyone ahead of you does as well. Oscar doesn’t, Oscar is lucky to have gone in earlier. Rachel tells you he’d made up four places after being forced to box for some tyre issue. You feel a strange mix of pride and jealousy swirl in your chest as you all file into a discordant line behind the safety car.

Verstappen leads the pack, as per usual. Then Oscar, Sainz and you. Leclerc is behind you, then Lando. You’re in P4, right where you started and right where you’ve been fucking sitting the entire race so far. twenty-five laps to at least make it onto the podium. Then you’ll be happy. Or not quite happy, you’d need pole for that. Content. You’d be content.

Max starts weaving. The safety car goes off and Max keeps you all ready and waiting until the exact millisecond that he decides the race can properly begin again. You hate when he does this— you know that’s exactly why. Eventually, finally, he gets going.

You have to run defence like crazy for a few laps to keep Leclerc behind you until everything is warmed up. The gap widens as you drive. At some point, you stop worrying about the Monégasque so much and focus your attention on car fifty-five like your life depends on it. The laps fly by as time ticks on. Twenty-five to go, twenty, fifteen, ten. You’re back on Sainz’s rear wheel, a gap of 0.2 to 0.3 that’s been consistent throughout this last stretch of the race. You’re watching him like a hawk, waiting for the smallest slip-up to take advantage of. Somewhere you can push, somewhere he’s weak. It’s hard— he’s covering all his bases. Not giving you an inch so you can’t take a mile.

You’re closing in on sixty-four laps— with only three to go— when he gives you that fucking inch. It’s in the first chicane. His wheel locks up, and he jerks the car slightly the wrong way, something like that. You get in his space and you push and he backs out first. You press down on the throttle and rocket past him, shouting FUCK! FUCK YES! to yourself.

P3. P3. God, you hope it’s P3.

You press the talk button, “Rach?”

“Yes, P3,” she barks, “Fucking, focus. Three laps to go.”

Those last three laps of Imola are some of the hardest of your life. Defending against Carlos is a task, of course, but it’s not even that. The sickness starts to creep back into your awareness as the adrenaline that had hit its peak during the overtake starts to subside. Two laps to go and you’re remembering the fever again. The sweat soaking your hair and streaking down the back of your neck. Your whole body is on fire and it aches everywhere. It feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to the inside of your skull. You want so badly to close your eyes and drift away to sleep, but the car is flying through the air demanding your attention with the way it thuds against the track. You’ve got one lap to go and Carlos is on you like white on rice. You can’t afford to make a mistake until you’re firmly over that finish line.

So you don’t. You grit your teeth and you refuse.

Carlos is downright reckless in the last chicane, he tries to bait you by moving to one side and pushing but you’re not going to fall for something like that even if you’re near delirious from the 39.4-degree fever. Though surely it’s higher now, the car temp can’t be helping. You hardly realise you’ve crossed the finish line because you’re thinking so hard about how lightheaded you feel. On instinct, you slow down to a safe speed as Oscar’s McLaren enters your vision, but you think your toes have pins and needles and there’s some feeling tingling up into your shoulders. You blink hard and take a long sip of water so you can make it to the pits before your head starts to spin.

Crackle, “Where are you going? That was P3.”

“Huh?” you realise you’re following the other drivers instead of heading into the pits where you’re supposed to go, “Shit. Sorry.”

You edge back as carefully as you can, avoiding other cars that pass by, lucky you’ve not overshot too far so you can turn into the pits and park your car in front of the P3 sign without going around the entire track. That would be embarrassing. Or that would be more embarrassing than how disgusting you’re going to look when you take your helmet and balaclava off.

Toto, Rachel and a few of your engineers are there to meet you at the barricade when you clamber out of the car, unsteady on your feet. Rachel’s eyebrows are furrowed as she tries her best to smile at you, trying to put on a brave face even though you can tell she’s concerned you’re going to keel over. You brace yourself with a hand against the gate and tear your helmet off, then your balaclava. You’ve never been so fast to put a cap on your head, trying to cover the sweaty mess that is your hair right now.

“That was phenomenal work,” Rachel says, reaching to put a hand on your burning hot bicep, “You look fucking terrible, though.”

You suck in a ragged breath and you nod in agreement, trying to keep the black tinging your vision from taking over completely.

“Get her something to drink,” you hear Toto bark, though it comes to your ears, muffled and staticky.

You’re fine. You’re fine. Until you’re not and your sweaty hand is slipping against the guardrail and your vision is fading into darkness and you’re falling face first into a metal railing. And, and, someone’s got their arm around your middle and you’re not on the ground with your face in the asphalt. You blink, hot tears— from what you assume is exhaustion— burning your eyelids. The arm around your middle is covered in something orange and black… Oscar. It’s Oscar who’s got you propped up, held firm into his body so your legs don’t collapse underneath you. The two of you sway and stumble for a second as you gain your footing back, your vision returning to normal, the buzzing in your ears going away.

“You’re good,” he breathes, “I’ve got you.”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine, you attribute it to your current state.

You remember the cameras that are on all of you right now. You try not to look panicked as you step away from him. You try to do it calmly and not frantically like you so want to. Toto has some electrolyte drink held out right in your face and you take it, chugging half of it straight away while you swivel around to face Oscar. You nod, feeling slightly better, but gripping the guardrail tight so as not to repeat earlier.

“Thanks,” you try a smile, but it’s just turning into a grimace because you feel like shit.

Oscar shakes his head, “Don’t mention it.”

“Great driving out there.”

His eyebrow goes up, touching the curl of his hair that peeks out from his cap.

“You’re kidding?” he says, tone laced with amusement.

You frown, which is much easier, “No. You drove great.”

He makes a face like ‘yes, obviously’, but somehow does it in a humble and endearing way that you find you like a little too much. It leaves you confused as to his point.

“No,” he scoffs, “Okay, yes. What I mean is that you just got P3 with a raging fever.”

You purse your lips, countering, “You don’t know I have a fever.”

His tongue darts out to wet his top lip, hiding the small smile that threatens on his face.

He shrugs, “Bit obvious, unfortunately.”

You roll your eyes. You think what he means is it’s a bit obvious because you look like absolute death. There’s probably sweat rolling off you in buckets, your cap is jammed on your head and your hair is probably sticking out at crazy angles. There were dark circles under your eyes before you left for the track this morning, they’re probably ten times worse now. He might also mean it’s obvious from the way your skin is burning hot, like touching a radiator in the middle of winter. Or, perhaps, the way you’d passed out into his arms a few minutes earlier.

You suck your teeth, “Well. I told you I was racing today.”

Oscar nods, biting the inside of his lip, “Yeah. You did.”

There’s more that neither of you are saying. A conversation that you’re trying desperately to have with prolonged eye contact, small little smiles and breaths out through the nose. You think it might be ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘You’re very impressive and I’m going a little bit crazy about it’. That’s how you feel at least, somewhere in between the fever chills and the urge you’re suppressing to curl into a ball on the tarmac. This is okay, you think. You don’t have to be Oscar’s sworn enemy just because you’re both chasing the win. You can let him worry about you, but make sure he understands he can’t stop you from taking the things that you want. You can say things that mean other things and Oscar can smile at you like it’s something private for just the two of you.

You can be happy with that. Or not quite happy. Content.

🏎️ song inspo (fiona apple my Beloved) -> https://open.spotify.com/track/5h9Iek7Hp9wayRt7fBp7Ab?si=9PnuH5CDSC-qTurLPGiTwg

💫 fill out this form if you want to be added to my tag list: @clowngirlsstuff @leclercsluvs @c-losur3 @mael1pastry @papayamusha @mvk1ma

#🍓anon #oscar piastri #f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x driver!reader #oneshots:op81 #driver!reader

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soaked-ghost · 2 months

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I forgot to add the bonus on the post so I might as well just send it to you lol

This was the first draft of our Nightmare's interaction. I tried my best to replicate your style and I think I did pretty good. I was struggling with the others tho so I just drew them in my style in the end

i thought i was looking at my own art for a second holy hell.... u even went on ahead and used the pixel brush to draw my nightmare.

honestly I'm so glad u used ur own art style to draw my guys cuz they look WONDERFUL. seeing ur own spin on my designs is just so. oough..... so awesome.... ESPECIALLY nightmare he was my favorite

#mail

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11queensupreme11 · 2 months

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First of all: Long Live the Queen! Hope you're doing great, your stories are a real delicacy... I first discovered your Tsunami fic when I was in my jjk era, but your Arsenic Blues woke up my inner pjo fan. So eager to see how this all unfold.

But for now, time for the Rankings!

My personnal RoR favorites based on the manga only:

1) Shiva--> Not in the harem, but I had to place him somehow. Was searching for a Shiva fic in the first place. Love the himbo energy. At least it's good to see he's one of the "sane" one in your story.

2) Anubis--> Same, feral himbo doggo energy, can we ask for more?

3) Beelzebub--> Noo don't unalive yourself Bb love u so pretty haha🥺

4) Hadès--> All Hail to the King, here for the BigBro energy

5) Poseidon--> Mytho/Pjo fan here, of course he's one of my favorite gods, but I'm not a fan of his RoR portrayal. He's pretty tho.

6) Apollon--> Too effeminate for my taste, I was rooting for Leonidas anyway.

7) Loki--> U ugly ass, stinky ass, nasty ass bi***

Now, the interesting part, the Ranking based on [Arsenic Blues], as for now, until chapter 31:

1) Beelie Bestie 🤗! It seems you will soon give us reasons to hate him, but for now he's my personal favorite. Hope he will overcome his current difficulties. Fun fact: I tried to translate "Beelie" in my language, tried to find an equivalent nickname, I found "Bébou" (pronounced beeboo, another way to say "baby"). That’s so cute!

2) Loki--> I know it's unlikely but... is this bad that I really want him to take Percy's virginity 😳? Your writing is soooo good, it made me root for him of all people. Everyone loves a good outsider, and since he doesn't want to kill Percy anymore, he climbs up the ranking.

3) Anubis--> Favorite from the manga, I was sooo happy to see that u included the doggo. Didn't appear yet, but I have really high hopes for him. Beware the Allmighty Knot!

4) Poseidon--> This is a dark fic, I understand the appeal, the taboo of the incestual relationship, but since he's already her father, her family, the one who has authority over her, I think he has an unfair advantage compared to the others. This is the reason he's kinda low ranked, but I really loved the relationship he built with our best girl. Embrace Fatherhood (but not too much😰)

5) Hadès--> Same here, too much authority over her, doesn't have the appeal of the gradually evolving relationship. Creepy old uncle, hope your non-existent liver bursts. For now, he's the one who had the most "action" with Percy, so it seems unlikely that he will have her virginity as well.

6) Apollon--> Well, at least he's funny 😅. I'm sorry, but based on his pathetic simpy behavior, I have to give him the stamp of the "Whiny Little Bitch" of this story. Don't worry tho, there always have to be one in a fic, and he's not as bad as his Tsunami counterpart (Yuuta you nasty motherfucker I had faith in you-).

7) The Seventh--> Seeing the results of the poll, it seems I'm one of the only weirdos who voted for Ahura Mazda. Raa would be awesome too, but I have to say I was disturbed when I first saw that angry buff dude in the spin-off. For me, Raa was still that muscle mommy from the webtoon/manhwa Ennead (read Ennead. Ennead is good for your health). I just want the 7th to not be Cu Chulainn. I know I would still love it if you include him (cause ur writing is golden) but that's just a preference of mine.

I hope I'm understood. That's a big ass message, my thoughts are all over the place and my home country is known for having a shit level in english.

If you're interested I could do the same kind of ranking for Tsunami/Bloodflood. Have a great day, Peace!

A SHIVA LOVER OMG HIIIII

the anime did him sooooo good, he's so hot there, i'm glad they didn't fuck him up like LOOK AT HIM

the bonus chapter for chapter 91 is about shiva AND IM SO PISSED IT HASN'T BEEN TRANSLATED YET, I WANNA READ IT SO BAD I DON'T EVEN CARE IF ITS SUPER SHORT 😭😭

also, YES PLEASE you're free to give me your own bloodflood/tsunami rankings too!!!

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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vivaladicamillo · 1 year

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Okay so I don’t know why but I’m just so fixated this idea? I can imagine a female reader, being the first and only girl in the jackass crew and also being apart of wildboyz. Her, Chris, & Steve-O are all attached at the hips obviously and maybe one day after filming for Wildboyz they all go back to the hotel and clean up, have a big smoke sess and it just leads to these two tag teaming her while there all high as hell? (Which btw I feel like it’s very much a common occurrence 🤭 especially if they’re in like a poly relationship)

STEVEO/READER/CHRIS PONTIUS IMAGINE

im literally so obsessed with this idea, know that chris and steve-o were so close anyways it always makes me giggle. sorry i didnt get to do this sooner i have had a kidney stone and have been super sick bc of it, welp enjoy!! this is also my first ever like actual written out smut so sorry if its absolute shit but i have the writing skills of a idiot so….

WARNINGS: cursing, drinking, talks of drugs and alcohol, and smut

—————————————

ok so u, steve-o and chris have always been pretty close

yall all met through the first season of jackass

u were good friends with steph so she invited u to go watch her and the guys do stupid shit

and ofc u wanted to participate

so u go onto set looking around for her

instead u see two half naked men just chillin, standing around

after some first awkward glances u meet with steph and watch everything unfold

everyone was in the middle of a type of field with a huge loop that ppl were trying to ride with skate boards and bikes and shit

it was actually super cool

after a few hours of filming in the hot sun u pretty much were beat

u walk over to ur friend to tell her u think ur gonna head out for today

but little do u know the two guys from earlier are also friends with steph

so the four of yall get to talking

and u learn that the one man whos tan, in pretty good shape and is now wearing bunny ears and a flower bra is chris pontius, and the other bald man wearing a cheetah speedo is steve-o

they both invited u to join them to get ihop after the shoot

and just like that a trio was born

the three of u were always together

either just chillin, partying, or filming

u guys were never apart

u were the only one out of the three who actually had an apartment

so the two mostly (basically) lived at ur house

after the seasons of jackass ended steve-o and chris ended up doing a spin off called “wildboyz”

obviously u were still gonna be with them

u do hella cameos in wildboyz

u do all the shit that the guys are too pussy to do

swimming with alligators, sharks, bears rlly anything

also when steveo didnt wanna jump off the bridge with wings on, u def did

so lets set the scene

after doing some filming in australia, the crew and u three decide to go out on the town in melborne

just doing some bar hopping

eventually the crew gets tired and drunk and go off back to the hotel room

not the three american idiots tho

u steveo and pontius are just having a grand ol’ time drinking, goofing around and just having fun

it seems awesome

until pontius ends up fist fighting with some random guys which leads to steveo also getting involved

that gets everyone kicked out the bar

after some mumbling and complaining from the two u bring up a solution

“hey lets just go back to my room, i brought some weed we could go smoke or something..”

it was a absolute yes

who says no to weed?

the three of u go back to ur hotel room and smoke 2 whole joints together

yall were HIGHHHHH

the three of u guys were just in a cluster on the cheap ass hotel rug, giggling and cracking jokes till way into the night

the thing is, when ur high, u tend to get a little touchy

so little touches on chris’ chest while laughing here and accidently touching steveos thigh there

totally innocent touches

things start to get a little intense tho

longer eye contact from chris, steve-o trying to make u laugh more

and just like that steve-o has u in a bear hug, ur back to his chest while chris is next to u guys

after u calm urself down from having a giggle attack

u look over at chris

“have i ever told u, u have a pretty face y/n” chris says

u kinda had to stop in ur tracks a bit, only bc ur surprised

“yea, ur right chris, i also never say how good u smell dude, its like heavenly” steveo chimes in

u start to get a little nervous

yea u thought ur two friends were super hot but u werent gonna tell THEM that

“yea its probably because i actually shower, unlike u two” u giggle trying to ease the tension

“im serious y/n, ur actually gorgeous, ive just never told u like out loud in person before” chris says

ur face starts to turn bright red

“guys wha-“

“aweee chris ur making them blush” steve-o chuckles

at this point ur beat red, and a little sweaty

ur just baffled bc u know all abt the type of ppl chris and steve-o go for, you the last person u would ever think they would even come close to saying that stuff too

“hey, lets put a proposal on the table” steveo says, snaking his hand around ur waist

“its been a hell of a night, why dont we end this shit off right, chris? y/n? u down?”

“LIKE SEX?” u blurt out in ur intoxicated state causing the two guys to burst out laughing

“yes y/n, like sex” chris says

welp who knew this was gonna happen

ur two best friends wanting to fuck u??? like what?? how did this happen

i mean u were already in steveos lap, having his hand wrap around ur waist as his head rests on ur shoulder and chris on the opposite side of u playing with ur hair, curling it in between his fingers

“fuck it” u say, turning to chris

chris leans in and starts kissing u

eh well not kissing

more like very drunkly making out

steve-o starts kissing and licking on ur neck

all this is making ur face bright red

and tbh making u hella turned on

u eventually crawl out of steveos lap straddling chris

he runs his hand up ur shirt and up the small of ur back, steveo then helps chris take off ur shirt and ur bra

steveo then starts massaging ur breasts while whispering sweet nothings into ur ear

u pull away from the two

“guys i really think we shouldnt do this on the gross ass hotel room floor, the room comes with a bed for a reason” you say

the two look at eachother then look at u and nod

chris throws u over his shoulder while steveo runs ahead and plops down on the bed

chris then puts u on the bed, leaving u in ur jean shorts from ur guys night on the town

chris then unzips ur shorts and looks up at ur for permission

u nod and he starts kissing down ur stomach, taking off ur jeans and panties as he does

chris starts to eat u out while u push ur back into steve-o

u go to tangle ur fingers into chris’ hair

steveo quickly takes ur wrists into one hand

“awee come one sweetheart ur giving him all the attention” he chuckles

u turn to him, not even able to make out a word bc of how good chris is doing

who knew that he could eat pussy like THAT

u lock lips with steveo and u both moan into the the kiss

chris pulls away from u

he gets up and crawls onto the bed with u and steveo

damn good thing u got a king bed with ur room

u turn to straddle steveo, grinding against him as u do causing u both to groan

u pull away helping steve-o get his pants off

u look over at chris and hes already intensely watching u too, dick in hand

bc thats just how he rolls

u take steve-os cock out of his boxers, lick up his shaft then get on top of him

u put his tip at ur entrance and slowly sink down onto him

u both moan at the feeling

as u start to ride him, u turn to chris once again and hes slowly stroking his dick, once u really get a look at it u realize how big he is

“hm what? u like what u see sweetheart?” chris mumbles in between moans

u nod, still riding steveo, feeling urself slowly creep towards release

steveo then pulls u off him

“i feel like this isnt fair, i shouldnt have to keep ur gorgeous body all to myself, thats just selfish.” he beckons chris over

“turn around” steve-o says

u do as he says, chris now on the bed in front of you

“whats wrong darling? u look like u want something, dont be shy” chris says caressing ur cheek to make u look him in his eyes

god u couldnt get enough of his big beautiful eyes

“yes..” u say lowly

“what was that? i cant hear u?”

“yes chris, please.” u say glancing down at his dick

while this is all happening steve-o is just groping ur ass

“ohh u wanna suck me off dont u?” he rubs his thumb across ur bottom lip “ofc u can, anything for u”

u lean down to his dick, putting it in ur hand and giving it small licks here and there

as ur ass is up in the air, right in front of steveos face, he pushes himself back into u, fucking u from behind

u start to take all of chris into ur mouth, moaning as u feel steveos hand reach for ur clit

the room was just filled with moans, groans, and the sound of skin slapping, steve-o and chris just making intense eye contact the whole time

“ah fuck y/n just like that” chris mumbles as u take his whole length down ur throat, gagging

steveos thrusts start to speed up quicker and u feel like ur going to cum and minute now

u pull off chris’ dick with a pop, jerking him off in place of ur mouth

“shit, im-“

u dont get to finish ur sentence before u feel urself cum all over steveos cock

steveos fucks u through ur high, pulls out and cums on ur back

then a few minutes later chris came onto ur face

after the three of u have calmed down from ur highs, chris gets up and grabs a towel from the bathroom to clean u guys up

well mainly u

after u three all get into bed and fall asleep, u cuddling into chris’ chest and steveo spooning u from behind

“man we should do that more often” steveo says

and u guys sure did

after that night u three all kinda agreed to be a thing, u recommend a poly relationship which they didnt know much about but were completely down for

they both are in love with u (and lowkey eachother) so it was a win for everyone involved

———————————————————

ok hope yall enjoyed! as u can tell i cant take smut srsly at all ive never rlly written smut before at this detail level so i just kinda went with it, hope its not too bad. im also way to lazy atm to read over this for mistakes so ima just got with it, please keep recommending stuff for me to write! its very fun!

#jackass #jackass x reader #chris pontius x reader smut #chris pontius #chris pontius x reader #steveo x reader #steve o #steveo x reader smut

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fish-eat-fish · 8 months

Note

Pavitr x male! Spiderman! Reader

They meet through Gwen or Hobie and they click instantly! Their friendship blossoms and so does there feelings , then confessions and first kisses

Hopefully it isn’t too much and if it is you can shorten it to confessions and kisses :)

Thanks in advance! Have a good day and light or afternoon!!

(Summer Boredom) ☆ pavitr prabhakar x male!spiderman!reader ☆

tags: group hangout, sleepover, mutual crush, confession

wc: 3.9k

a/n: had to do this request first since there’s not a lot out there for male readers. sorry it’s incredibly late! thank you sm to my beta reader aster who literally whipped this out so fast. finals are over so i’m hoping to get into writing again and getting to requests eventually. i’m also interested in writing for pjo next because of the show (obviously), that’s all!

☆ ☆ ☆

It was summer break, and you lay on your bed bored. Two weeks into summer and you hadn’t done much crime-fighting or anything too exciting for that matter. You’d just finished your routine patrol of your city. You even took some time to do a little sightseeing, perched on the edge of the tallest building you could find, taking in the sight of your beautiful neighborhood.

Joining the Spidersociety had been awesome, and you’d loved meeting all of the other spider-variants, but now with not much activity going on with anomalies or villains, you were left to watch over your dimension. In absolute solitude. You sighed, missing being able to talk to other people about your hidden superhero identity.

You needed to hang out with the others, desperately. So, you initiated the conversation, typing in the group chat to get everyone’s attention in the hopes of meeting up later. A little chatting, crime-fighting, maybe a little sleepover after. You needed something. Anything. Socializing wasn’t always the easiest, but this strange little group of Spider-peopleall of you clicked with each other. Being spider-variants is the most unifying feature.

Hobie sat in your room and scrolled through his phone as well, tapping a rhythm onto his guitar across you. You smiled at him and glanced back down at your phone.

Miles and Gwen replied instantly.

“Sounds good!! B ther after fite (ㆀ˘･з･˘)”

“Miles! Stop fighting and texting!!” With an angry emoticon displayed on your screen.

You stifled a laugh at their responses, watching Gwen’s text appear. You sighed watching them text and banter amongst themselves. You lay on your bed, phone up in the air as you scanned across your screen. You wanted to hear from Pavitr in particular. Always wanting to hear from him and his dimension. You felt a twinge of pain in your heart, remembering that you didn’t even exist in his world, nor did he in yours.

“Hey, that sounds fun!!! I’ll be there as soon as I can, Auntie is mad at me for skipping breakfast… D:”

You typed back, finding yourself grinning at his little emoticon. “Ur Auntie is right, bring me something plz!”

“Of course! I hope you’re taking care of yourself. It’s important to stay happy and healthy, and surround yourself with lots of animals, especially dogs.”

“Pav wgatr u talk g anout?”

“^_^”

“Someone get this man away from the dogs and up in this DIMENSION.” Hobie quipped, looking up at you.

You lightly tapped on your arm, grasping onto your forearm as you smiled at your screen. Hobie scoffed at the sight of you from across the room, to which you looked over in mock offense.

“Oh my god! What?” You questioned.

His low voice chuckled at you, his fingers lightly strumming his metal guitar as he sat sprawled out in your spinning chair. He had taken his shoes off at the door and had made himself rather comfy in your room and in your universe.

His voice hung heavy with a teasing tone, “You seriously need to let him know, you know that right?” He mused, spinning lightly in his chair. You shot him a shocked look before closing your mouth and glancing at your phone, checking for an answer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You muttered, tightening the grip around your pillow as you lay flat on your bed.

Hobie scoffed at you, stopping in his tracks as he spun back around and tapped on the strings of his guitar, the music flying off of it in strange paper cut-out shapes of displayed sound. You stared at it in awe as Hobie’s dimension always had you wondering how different he was. He chuckled as he looked at you in your eyes.

“Don’t be such a downer yeah? He likes you. He’s curious about you.” He replied quickly.

“Yeah, but that’s just him.”

“Just trust me on this mkay?”

You sighed and sat up on your bed, stretching out. Your room was all set up for a fantastic hangout, and your parents were gone to not raise suspicion as to why you were talking to strangers in your room. You adjusted and picked up a few things as you waited for the others to arrive, with Hobie watching you with a close eye as he swiveled in the chair. Just as you were about to go and get some refreshments for your friends, a loud crash caught your attention. You opened your curtains and grinned as you saw Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr outside on your fire escape.

You ignored how Miles had fallen and was writhing in pain as he clutched his foot. Gwen was in the process of helping him up. Pavitr kindly knocked on your window with the back of his hand and waved at you. You quietly chuckled at the scene in front of you and opened the latch of your window to let them in. Pavitr took one last glance around and grasped at his mask, pulling it off. You felt thoughts bubble in your head as you saw his familiar face. His soft features never ceased to put you in a trance. Over his suit, he wore an oversized tee and his shorts.

Gwen’s laugh rang through your head as she entered first, the other two following in behind. They were also wearing their casual clothes over their suits, in preparation for the hangout. “Sorry we’re late, Pav insisted on petting some strays on the way here.” She said, walking in and observing your room with interest. “You redecorated huh?”

You shrugged as you glanced back at Pavitr closing your door with care. “Yeah, just a little.”

Hobie’s voice took your attention as he greeted Gwen and then Miles.

You cleared your throat in offense, getting them to greet you too as you dapped up Miles. Gwen didn’t understand your hand gestures, but she tried it anyway. “I think we should start this hangout off with, perhaps a movie. Any recommendations?” You scanned across their faces.

Miles hummed in thought and perked up, “Spiderman!”

Hobie eyed him, “Oi real creative yeah?”

“Do you even have Spiderman movies in your universe Miles?”

“Yeah of course.” He said proudly.

Pavitr shrugged as he adjusted to sit on the floor, crossing his legs. You sat on your bed near him, unable to ignore his presence. Gwen got situated on your bed as well as Miles remained standing, leaning against your desk.

“Well, I guess so.” You shrugged, “You guys want to watch Andrew Garfield, Toby Maguire, or Tom Holland Spiderman?”

Pavitr looked up at you in confusion, “Is Andrew Garfield the cat who eats lasagna?”

You laughed, “Not quite.”

“You pick! But I’ve never heard of any of those actors before. Might be interesting to see how your movies are in your dimension.”

“I’m gonna go grab some drinks and snacks, can one of you guys set up the movie from my phone?”

Miles pitched in, “I got it.” Opening up his hands to catch your phone as you threw it to him.

Pavitr raised his hand as he got up onto his feet, “I’ll help you.”

He waltzed past by and walked ahead of you into your kitchen. Hobie eyed you and mouthed something and you already knew what he was implying. You left the room quickly, ruffling your hair in annoyance as you followed behind Pavitr. He hummed in thought as he looked around your kitchen.

“Sorry about the mess, I had to make lunch earlier.” You explained, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Oh don’t worry, I don’t mind.” He replied, glancing up at you, “Actually, I can help with your dishes.”

You chuckled at his offer and nodded, mouthing a thanks. The cups in your cupboards seemed to comically color code themselves as you reached in. You set five mugs down on the dining table and decided that with the winter air, tea wouldn’t be so bad for you and your friends. It would help everyone unwind and relax.

“Sorry.” You muttered as you walked past Pav to reach up into the pantry with all the tea. They were unconventionally stored to your dismay. Beside you, Pavitr quietly scrubbed at some stray dishes in your sink. Silence resided over you two as you grabbed the case of tea bags.

“Think English Breakfast will be okay for everyone?” You commented, holding the tea box in your hand. He hummed beside you, “Tea’s always good.”

“I guess I should’ve asked what everyone liked.” You mumbled, seeing an array of teas up on the pantry shelf.

“It’s been a while since we’ve hung out. It’s nice. Thank you for inviting me, I missed seeing you at headquarters.”

His voice filled your head as you opened the case of tea.

“You missed me?” You lightly chuckled, amused at the thought. “It’s only been a few weeks since I’ve dropped by.”

Glancing over at Pavitr, you caught him biting his lip as he glued his eyes onto the task at hand. He held a bashful expression that you memorized. You caught his gaze as you froze. He looked at you with what seemed to be embarrassment. This had you speaking before you could even register what you were promising.

“I’ll… stop by more often.”

A weird air passed between the two of you as he broke eye contact first, clearing his throat as he scrubbed harder at the plate in his hand. You went blank as you continued to place the teabags into the mugs, adding small spoonfuls of sugar into each cup. Pavitr finished up behind you as you heard the faucet turn off. You heard him shuffling in the kitchen as he placed the dishes on the drying rack.

He hummed as you felt his skin graze yours, your shoulders touching as he looked at what you were doing. “You have cute cups,” He said with a smile. “Reminds me of the ones I have.”

You felt your skin flush where he was pressed up against it. You tried your hardest not to look up at him right now. You were afraid your heart would drop at how close he was. “Yeah?”

It was pretty obvious Pavitr was looking at you from the side. But you didn’t realize how closely he was observing your every feature. He just naturally felt drawn to observing you, it wasn’t something he could help. He wondered if you’d start visiting headquarters again. It was embarrassing how much he thought of you in his dimension.

Without much thought, except his instinct to touch your skin, he spoke in a hushed voice. “You have an eyelash,” You felt him trap your body as he propped himself up by placing an arm on the counter. You turned to face him in shock at what was happening, as you felt his warm skin encase your cheek. He ran his thumb over your cheek as the two of you held your breath. Pavitr looked into your familiar eyes and searched for an answer, a sign that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. But Pavitr had already brushed the lash off and now wasn’t the time.

It was dangerous for him to be with you alone.

He cleared his throat and casually rubbed your cheek again. “Got it.”

It was unbelievable how much charm that boy had when it came to you. He casually walked off and grabbed a spoon, pouring hot water into the cups beside you. Being pulled out of that moment gave you physical repercussions, as you felt your stomach turn at his touch. Whatever had just happened made your mind explode with possibilities. The two of you finished prepping the tea without another word and took as many mugs and snacks as you could, returning to the others.

You pushed past the door as you held your mugs, and Pavitr was beside you with mugs and a bag of chips in his arms. “Here’s tea for everyone.”

Gwen thanked you softly as she took the pink mug. Gwen and Miles had gone and changed into their pajamas. You figured you’d encourage Pav to change and get comfortable as well.You hadn’t even thought of the sleeping arrangement but that was a later decision. Miles had already let you know he’d have to leave for the night since he was grounded again for some back talk to his parents.

She shared a curious look with you, the two of you speaking without words as she glanced back at Pavitr who now stood next to Hobie as he set the snacks down on your desk. You flashed a small panicked look at her before standing up to not look suspicious. You gave Miles his yellow mug, and Hobie his blue mug. Pavitr held his mug in his hands and took a sip, humming in satisfaction. Gwen took your pillow and hugged it as she looked towards Miles who was now connecting your phone to the small projector you had. He let out a triumphant noise as he finally navigated your phone, and adjusted the volume.

Hobie moved to sit on the floor next to Pavitr, and Miles next to Gwen. This made you move a bit up to get comfortable as you sat on the end of your bed. But with Pavitr sitting on the floor in front of you, you didn’t mind. You lay on your stomach again, placing your arms under your chin as your head was near Pavitr’s. As Miles pressed play on your phone, the five of you began your movie marathon.

☆ ☆ ☆

The night was incredibly uneventful, as most of you became tired quickly, opting to pass out before midnight. It made sense really, with everyone balancing their lives as a hero with their personal lives. The lull of the movies on the projector eventually compelled everyone to call it a night and situate themselves for sleep.

In front of you, Pavitr heavily yawned. Along with Hobie who had somehow dozed off with his hand in the bowl of popcorn. You laughed at the sight of him and asked Pavitr to wake him up. The others didn’t hang out in your dimension that often, so you had to formulate a sleeping situation. Miles was yawning actively as he threw on his suit and mask, getting ready to go home.

“I’ll see you guys later, thanks for the movies!” He spoke out after quickly saying goodbye to everyone. He sat at your windowsill before thwippingto a rooftop and disappearing with a bright portal flashing in the night sky.

Now it was just the four of you occupying your living room. You got up and left the room with Gwen discussing how strange it was to see Spidermen depicted in your universe. Hobie shot back that Andrew Garfield was his favorite Spiderman. You chuckled and brought out sleeping bags and blankets to create a small makeshift bed in your living room. The others held pillows from your room to use and began getting ready to sleep. Hobie instantly called dibs on your small couch, even though he was the tallest. And Gwen opted for the longer couch. This left you and Pav to share the bed, which you figured Hobie and Gwen had planned discreetly.

You sighed as you fluffed up your pillow next to Pavitr who was stretching out and yawning. He glanced over at you, “You okay? I promise I don’t snore. At least I don’t think so…” He trailed off. You smiled at this and got situated in the dark next to him, “It’s nothing. Just wiped out.” You lied.

He hummed in reply and stiffly laid down in the bed next to you. You couldn’t hear Gwen and Hobie speaking anymore, since they had complained about how it was too late for them to stay up any longer. You kept your voice quiet as you turned over to Pavitr, “Let me know if I accidentally hog the blanket, I have an issue with that.”

He kept his voice low too, “Okay. Night.” He said, lying when he cut the conversation short. He had wanted to talk to you more, but he also didn’t mind sharing this peaceful moment with you. He kept far in order to respect your boundaries, as he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You breathed deeply as you looked up at the ceiling, aware of how close you guys were. It was hard to relax, but your eyes eventually closed as fatigue set into your body.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next morning, you were woken up by Gwen putting on her shoes and talking to Hobie quietly. You groaned slightly and rose, looking up at them. You spoke through your raspy morning voice, “You guys leaving?”

Gwen turned to you and nodded, “Yeah we have to go see Miguel on some business. Thanks for having us.” She glanced at Pavitr beside you.

Hobie adjusted his guitar onto his back, “Let Pav know we said bye.”

You nodded at this and mouthed a goodbye as they left into your room and probably out. Your parents would most likely arrive in a few hours, so you had to get up and get ready to clean your home and get rid of any evidence of people crashing here. You glanced over at Pavitr beside you, who strangely slept with the blanket covering most of his face. His black hair poked out from under the blanket as his body rose with each breath he took. You were sorry for breaking his sleep.

“Pav.” You spoke out softly, reaching a hand over to shake him awake, “It’s time to go.”

He tiredly opened his eyes under the covers as your raspy voice filled his ears. He dragged the blanket down slightly to look at you, mumbling. You laughed at his fatigued state and ushered him to get up. You yawned and walked into the kitchen, deciding to maybe prepare some quick breakfast for the two of you before you sent him off. Pavitr somehow had managed to spring out of bed with twice the energy you lacked in the mornings.

“Are you good with pancakes?” You spoke out as he sat at your dining table.

“You’re making breakfast?” He questioned, rubbing the last of his sleep out of his eyes.

You glanced back at him as he stretched, trying to ignore the fact that it was just the two of you again. You nodded, pouring the pancake mix onto the pan as you slowly cooked them. Standing with your hand on your hip as you waited for the pancakes to cook.

“You know, I like seeing you for this long.” Pav started, absentmindedly tapping on his mug from yesterday, “I mean…” He seemed to be in careful thought.

The pancakes sizzled behind you as you turned to look as you spoke.

Pavitr glanced at his side before managing to meet your eyes. He noticed how nervous you were too whenever he decided to speak out like this, and he hoped that it all meant you somehow managed to like him back. “You… your company, I like having it. I think you’re one of the coolest guys I’ve ever met and…” His words fizzled out in his throat as you looked away, scratching the back of your neck. You set your spatula down and grasped the counter to ground yourself, speaking before Pavitr would think that you’d shot him down.

“Pav.” You said, voice cracking embarrassingly drawing attention to your nervous demeanor.

He looked up at you, curious of what you were gonna say.

“I, I like you.” You said out loud with guilt. The heartbeat in your chest pounded, threatening to explode as blood rushed through your ears. This confession was practically making you nauseous, but you couldn’t bear to be selfish and take Pavitr’s kindness for romantic interest. He was always nice, that’s just who he was.

Across the kitchen, Pavitr held onto his mug tightly, processing what you’d said for a quick moment, before replying in a heartbeat.

“I like you too.”

Behind you, the faint smell of burnt pancakes snapped you back into reality and out of your worry. You panickedly scraped at the pancake, trying to get it off of the pan. Pavitr nervously looked at you as you momentarily attended to the task, patiently waiting for a resolution. You took the pan off of the stove and took a shaky breath.

“So, so that’s good.” You spoke out shakily.

“I want to be your boyfriend, and I want you to be mine.” He replied instantly, looking up at you expectedly, which made you almost choke on your spit. You felt very weak at this sequence of events.

“I’d like that.” You muttered, handing him his plate of non-burnt pancakes with a fork. You flushed as he beamed at you from across the table. He was happy that you’d somehow read his mind and had spoken up about your interest in him. Pavitr felt like he could happily return to his dimension without worry now. Expecting to share a lot more moments and firsts with you from now on.

You chewed on your pancake and glanced up at him as you flushed, “You’re staring.”

He laughed and filled your stomach with butterflies, just as he always did. “I just like looking at you.”

You groaned and lightly kicked him under the table. He happily ate the pancakes you served and offered to take the dishes to clean them again while you cleaned up the living room. Your heart pounded as you repeated that moment over and over in your head. So maybe Hobie was right, whatever. And speaking of Hobie, you’d have to tell him right away. You shot him a quick text, waiting for his response of, “I told you so.”

It was now time for you two to separate, as you collected Pavitr’s stuff from your room and folded it neatly for him to take. His eyes always seemed to find yours without failnow, and he shot you his golden smile, as he always did. He sat at your window sill in his suit and his mask as you stood out like a sore thumb, feeling less cool out of your suit. Pavitr waited for you to say goodbye before he left, letting light shine around his body. You could never get enough of him.

“I guess you have to go now, huh.” You muttered, feeling disappointed. He sadly nodded at you, taking one last look around your room, and then at you. Pavitr wanted to say something, as he lifted his shoulders and slouched as he mumbled in thought. Eventually, he looked at you with that endearing gaze and pulled his mask down.

“Is it okay, if I can ask for a goodbye kiss…?” He said innocently. You tried not to let your smile show too much as you stiffened up and nodded. He nervously smiled at you with his mask held in his hand. You walked up to him in the window, and he wrapped his arm around your torso as you shared a chaste kiss. It was quick, and Pavitr didn’t seem satisfied with that, as he brought his other hand to the side of your neck, pulling you in for a longer and deeper kiss. It was nerve-wracking, but it was sweet and vulnerable.

He grinned and giggled as the two of you separated, pulling his mask over his head as he readied his bracelets to swing. You blushed at the tingling sensation in your lips and your fingertips and spoke out with excitement.

“I’ll see you later Pav.”

He lightly laughed under his mask as he waved goodbye to you, “See you tomorrow.”

☆ ☆ ☆

#across the spiderverse #spiderverse fanfic #spiderverse x reader #pavitr my beloved #pavitr x reader #pavitr prabhakar x you #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar #atsv pavitr

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