#plus it's a monday and i don't work monday so I can be there on time!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedgito · 1 year ago

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night.

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed.

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm.

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept.

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already.

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes.

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right.

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?”

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire.

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—”

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far.

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items.

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately.

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse.

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse.

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen.

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment.

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea.

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment.

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness.

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice.

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him.

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time.

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.”

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

“If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him.

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof.

But, here he was, lusting after you.

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made.

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet.

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play.

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid.

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake.

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you.

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves.

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water.

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly.

Like you’d been caught.

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite.

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind.

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect.

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape.

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration.

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind.

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut.

Joel was safe, he was good.

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it.

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning.

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedrostories #MMITW #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x fem!reader #my writing #let's just pretend ellie isn't in that gif lmao

477 notes · View notes

sebscore · 2 years ago

Text

PRIZE OUT

pairing: charles leclerc x sister!reader

warnings: rbr. mention of horner and marko. this doesn't really have a plot, tbh- just felt like writing it.

author's note: idk how this came to me, but it did in the middle of the night and i hope you enjoy it as well. also, the way i keep writing things that no one requested- i know yall hate me.

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Yeah, I'll let you know. Goodbye, bye.'' Charles hung up the phone, sighing loudly as he put it back in his pocket. His mother watched him, frowning at her son's obvious frustration. ''What is it, Charles?'' She asked him, slight concern in her voice.

''I have to let them know who my plus-one is for the FIA Prize Giving this week, but I have no date.'' He explained, his hand going through his hair.

Pascale chuckled, relieved it wasn't some bigger issue her son was dealing with. ''I thought you were about to reveal a big crisis to me, but it's just about finding you a date.'' She laughed, much to Charles' dismay.

''It's serious, Maman!'' He exclaimed. ''Normally I would take Charlotte, but you know…'' the couple hadn't split for too long, the topic still a bit sensitive for him, ''maybe you can go with me? You love Italy!''

The offer was tempting, but Pascale had a better idea. ''How about you take your sister with you? She likes dressing up and the two of you will get to spent some time together.'' She suggested.

Charles thought for a moment, thinking about the idea. His little sister would indeed enjoy going to a formal event like this and with her by his side, it would be way less boring than usual.

''Yeah, I'll ask her.'' He smiled.

His mother walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, putting her arms around him. ''Oh, that's so great! My two babies!'' Pascale beamed. ''And she's been so stressed with her exams coming up, it will take her mind off of that.''

''I'll go ask her then.'' Charles got up from his seat, wanting to move to his sister's room. However, his mother's voice stopped him in his tracks. ''Oh, don't forget that we have dinner with Ollie's parents Monday night.'' She told him.

''I didn't know about that.'' He furrowed his eyebrows, confused on why this is the first he has heard of it.

''That's why I'm telling you about it now.'' Pascale retorted, matter-of-factly.

Charles had the urge to roll his eyes, but managed to hold himself in. ''So who's coming? The five of us, and then him and his family?''

''Y/N, me, you, Lorenzo and Arthur is also bringing Carla, and then Ollie is coming with his parents.'' She replied, getting up from the couch.

''Aren't they from England?''

''Yeah, but they're in Monaco for the Formula 3 Prize Ceremony on Sunday.'' Pascale clarified for him, amused by his attempt to appear uninterested. ''Charles, I know you're not too happy about your sister dating, but he's a good kid and I want you on your best behaviour Monday.''

''I just don't want her to get hurt. This is her first relationship and it's long distance so I'm just looking out for her.'' Charles didn't have anything against the young Brit, he really didn't. Ollie is a polite guy and from what he has seen, he has a bright future ahead of him as a driver.

But he's her big brother and even the mere thought of his baby sister getting hurt by anyone breaks his heart. Charles knows she'll have a hard time with Ollie being away so much, because he knows the experience himself. Yes, there are many drivers who are able to make long distance relationships work, but most of them are adults. She's 17 years-old and still in school, she shouldn't be stressing about what her boyfriend is up to on the other side of the world.

''Trust me, Chérie- I don't want her to get hurt either, but we can't stop her from experiencing life. Whatever is meant to be will happen, whether it works out with the kid or not. Until then, I want everyone to be as supportive as they can be.'' Pascale understood his worries, she shared them with him. Y/N is her youngest and only daughter, she wants to protect her girl from all the evil in the world. However, shielding her away from everything will do more bad than good.

Charles nodded at her words, knowing she's right. ''I know, I am supportive of them, but if that little guy makes her cry, I'll give him something to cry about.'' He tried sounding scary, clenching his jaw.

His mother simply laughed. ''I think that 'little guy' is a bit taller than you, Charlie.''

''Oh, whatever.''

''That's the Red Bull car?'' Y/N observed the winning machinery that was displayed for everyone to see at the FIA event.

Charles looked from his sister, to his rivals' car, to her again. ''Yup, that's the one.''

''It's kinda ugly.'' The blunt comment made the Ferrari driver snort, garnering some weird looks from bypassers and other drivers.

''Be careful, Y/N!'' He hushed her, putting his hand over her mouth. ''Don't get us in trouble.''

''It's the truth, though.''

''I know, but just keep it in your head.''

The siblings walked further into the building, Charles greeting some people he recognised here and there. Y/N held onto her brother's hand for dear life, her anxiety going through the roof. It wasn't just the large space with all the strangers that was freaking her out, it was also the new pair of heels she was rocking.

Charles glanced at the shoes. ''Why didn't you wear flats? I don't want you to break your ankles.''

''I wanted to look a little taller next to you and they go well with my dress.'' She answered him, a bit agitated by his questioning. ''Let's link our arms, if I fall- you fall.'' Y/N did as she said and put her arm around Charles'.

Her brother laughed, momentarily patting her hand. ''How about no falling at all?''

They arrived at the big hall where someone led them to their seats at one of the many tables present in the room. Seated on the table next to them was the RBR family: Max, Checo, Christian Horner, Helmet Marko and their significant others who subtly greeted the Leclercs upon seeing them.

''You look really pretty, Y/N.'' Kelly complimented the young girl as they walked past them.

Y/N shyly smiled at the older woman, surprised at the sudden praise since the two of them haven't had many interactions throughout the years. ''Thank you, you too.'' She politely replied.

''Hey, how are you?'' Max focused on her when his small talk with Charles was done, sticking out his fist for a bump.

Both Leclerc siblings chuckled at the greeting. ''I'm good and you?'' She didn't leave him hanging and gently bumped her fist with his.

''I'm great.'' The dutchman smiled.

The youngest Leclerc remembered how she would taunt Charles by running after him while shouting Max's name, knowing it would annoy her older brother- especially if he had just lost to him in karting. She found it funny how they're still rivals after all these years.

''Congratulations on your championship.'' Y/N quickly told him before following Charles to their seats, not wanting to lose her brother in the crowd.

Max thanked her, but she was already gone and didn't hear it. The Red Bull driver was very fond of the young girl, because he had known her since she was a toddler. He would always remember how Charles would take her on the podium with him if the Monégasque had won, and that one time a 7 year-old Y/N gave him a high-five despite having won against her brother.

''This shit is really boring.'' Y/N whispered as the two hosts started announcing a new category, a yawn almost escaping her mouth.

Charles chuckled, feeling the exact same way about the event. ''I have to get up to give the 'Rookie of the Year' award in a few minutes so I'm just trying to look alive.''

''Who won it this year?'' She asked him, not aware of the winner.

''Zane Maloney, he was second in the F3 championship,'' he answered before smirking, ''oh, he finished in front of Ollie.''

Y/N gave him a side-eye, unimpressed by her brother's teasing. ''Yeah, by like 2 points.''

''Maybe you should have dated Zane instead.'' Charles continued, still grinning like an idiot and raising his eyebrow.

''How many points were there between you and Max again?''

''I gotta go now, I think.'' Charles got up from his seat, looking mildly annoyed by his sister's comeback. Meanwhile, Y/N had a satisfied expression on her face knowing she pissed her brother off. ''He's so stupid.''

''You had fun tonight?'' Charles asked her on their drive back to his home in Maranello, his tailored Ferrari jacket draped over her as the coldness of the night settled in.

Y/N nodded her head, a tired smile on her face. ''Yeah, it was funny seeing you on the stage.''

''You kept laughing at me! You know how hard I was trying to keep my laughter in?'' He exclaimed, recalling his sister distracting him while he accepted his award. ''And you were filming it as well!''

''Of course I was,'' Y/N cackled, ''it's for mum.''

''Well, I'm happy you had a good time at least.'' Charles grinned, his tone changing from offended to loving.

The youngest hummed, a comfortable silence falling upon them.

''Are you, uh, gonna be home Monday?'' Y/N interrupted the quietness, a hint of nerves in her voice.

Charles confusingly glanced at his sister. ''Yeah, we're having dinner, haven't we?''

The unexcited sound of his voice made her roll her eyes. ''You sound very excited about, thank you so much, Charles.'' Y/N told him, sarcastically.

''I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like that- I am looking forward to it, it's gonna be great.'' He apologised, his arm going over her shoulder.

Y/N nodded to his words. ''I hope so, Ollie's very nervous about it.''

''Why?''

''Cause he says Arthur has been acting weird with him, and he thinks you and Lorenzo absolutely despise him.'' Ollie's concerns over her brothers had greatly upset her, the sad look on his face when he told her breaking her heart.

Charles felt guilty upon hearing his sister's answer. ''I don't despise him and neither does Enzo, and Arthur is always weird,'' he denied her words, ''I'm sorry that we made him worry about that, that's not our intention- he's a good guy.''

''I don't need everyone to be like best friends, but he shouldn't be shitting his pants any time you guys come near him.'' Y/N joked, although there was a truth to her words.

Her brother squeezed her hand. ''We like him, alright?

''That makes me happy.'' She said, a genuine smile on her face.

''But if he makes you cry-''

''Yeah, you're gonna give him something to cry about- mum already told me.''

taglist :: @missskid @maxiel-jpg @glitterquadricorn @stillbreathin @obsessed-fan-alert @booknerd2004-blog @kageyamama-hinatatata @reblog-princess-blog @maezenin12 @gly-exe @lighttsoutlewis @topguncultleader @jaydensluv @nora_moon @erinisrightheree @7leb-kakaw @theamazingsimp @lovelyxlily @princessmiaelicia @mehrmonga @champomiel @rowansshit @mbappebby @maemaesthoughts

if you want to be added to the taglist, fill in this form !

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x oc #f1 imagines #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic

2K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 9 months ago

Text

Adult Education Part 22 | Hangman x OC

Summary: After visiting Jessica's family in Massachusetts and his family in Texas, it's time to officially finish moving in together. It's also time for Jake to take his girlfriend on a little adventure she has always dreamed about.

Warnings: Fluff, sex in public, language, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Epilogue Part One

Three months later...

The airport in San Diego was absolutely overrun with business travelers and families on summer vacation. It seemed like there were people rushing in every direction, trying to catch connecting flights or grab their luggage and go. But Jake was in no hurry at all. He'd just left the laidback state of Texas. Tomorrow was Saturday. His girlfriend was on term break.

In fact, he missed his luggage going around the baggage carousel twice because Jessica had her lips pressed to his. "You know," he murmured after the second time, "we would already be home by now if you weren't so damn distracting."

She shook her head. "We have to stop by my apartment on the way and pick up the last few boxes."

Jake smiled. "I know. Then it's official, Baby." Her lease was ending on Monday, and they left those boxes of old textbooks and scientific journals so they could still claim she was going to be moving in, not that she essentially already had. Jake didn't want to make a poor impression on her family, but it turned out he didn't have anything to worry about. And neither did she.

"So Thanksgiving back in Massachusetts and Christmas in Texas," she murmured against his neck as she let her head rest on his shoulder. "We're going to be very busy this year."

"There's no escaping my mom now," he told her. "She's probably already crocheting a Christmas stocking with your name on it. I think she almost evaporated into thin air when she hugged you. Physical proof that her son is dating someone with a PhD who looks like a supermodel nearly took her out."

"Jake," she whined with a laugh. "Supermodels don't wear glasses or read the science joke of the day emails."

"Mine does," he insisted. "There's my bag again. Now can we please go home?"

"Absolutely," she replied as he grabbed his luggage before it could sneak by a third time. "I'm determined to cook an edible dinner one night while I'm off. Plus, I really wanted to spend this week while you're at work organizing all of my stuff at the condo."

He grinned as they exited the airport holding hands. "Actually, you're coming to work with me on Monday."

"I am? For what?"

"Well... that's a bit of a surprise."

---------------------------

Jessica watched Jake stack the three remaining boxes of her things in his arms and carry them out to his truck. She could have only managed to take them one at a time, but he even humored her barrage of questions while he went.

"When are you going to tell me what the surprise is? Will you tell me now? How will I know what to wear to base with you on Monday if you don't tell me what it's for?"

He was silent for the first part of the ride from her old neighborhood as they made their way toward the pacific coast and his condo, and she looked out the window while she tapped her foot anxiously. When he took an unexpected right turn instead of a left, she turned to look at him.

"You really want to know?" he asked, his face just gorgeous in the orange and purple light as the sun finished setting.

"Yes!"

He chuckled. "Well, I thought this would be a fun little celebration of sorts since you found out Brian isn't coming back in the fall. And I think it's something you've been wanting to experience."

Jessica tipped her head back against the headrest and smiled. Advanced Calculus had texted her when they were at the airport in Boston about to fly to Texas, letting her know Brian took a position at the local community college. She wouldn't even have to look at him when her classes started up again next month. She had been so excited, she and Jake had very awkward but enthusiastic sex in the airplane lavatory as they flew over Pennsylvania.

When he pulled his truck off the main road and along the bay, Jessica had to hang on as he drove down an unpaved street as the sky darkened. "Where are we going?" she asked, as they bumped along, driving parallel to a tall fence with barbed wire across the top of it.

"I want to show you something," he muttered, coming to a stop between the rocky bay beach and the fence. "There's the hangar, and there's my jet."

Jessica looked to where he was pointing, and she could barely make out HANGMAN printed across the side of one of the aircrafts. "Oh!" she gasped, realizing she'd never even visited him on base before.

"Come here, and I'll tell you the surprise," he crooned, killing the engine and unbuckling her seatbelt. He coaxed her to his lap and said, "If you want to fly with me on Monday, I got special permission to take you up since you're a physics professor."

"What?!" Jessica's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"

His smile was soft and genuine as he nodded. "Does that mean you still want to do it?"

"Jake!" She pushed his shoulders back against the seat and shook him slightly as he laughed. "I wrote my PhD thesis on jet propulsion in military aircrafts! Of course I want to fly with you!"

"I know," he drawled as he smirked. "I read your thesis, remember? Barely understood a word, but I did read it."

"Smart Boy," she moaned as she kissed him. "I can't wait for Monday." As she raked her fingers back through his hair, his hands came to rest on her hips. She kissed and nipped at him, pausing to say, "I'm so excited."

When Jessica's tongue slipped between his lips, she rolled her hips against him. He groaned and cupped her butt, guiding her to do it again. He was so obviously hard in his jeans now, and she didn't want to wait until they got home. "Feels like you're excited, too," she said with a grin before she licked his lip.

"Fuck, Jessica. If you're like this today, you'll be a mess on Monday after we actually fly together."

She gasped and nodded. "Oh my god. You're right."

"I know I am, Baby. You'll be dripping wet for me by then."

When she clenched around nothing as his hand snaked up the front of her shirt, she admitted, "I already am." She ground down against his cock and whispered, "You know how we had that quickie the other day way out on your parents property?"

Jake moaned and said, "I'll remember that for the rest of my life. Bending you over the tailgate of my dad's old truck."

"Well," she murmured, licking a stripe from his chin slowly back to his ear. "It's pretty dark now. You could bend me over your own tailgate."

Jake's hand was opening his door before she finished her sentence, and he hauled her back behind his truck. He was a little rough, pulling her against him and making her stumble as he dropped the tailgate down. He kissed her lips and rubbed the front of his jeans against hers before he said, "It'll have to be quick again. Before any of the guards drive by."

"Okay," she agreed, and then Jake had her pinned down from behind as she made a surprised noise. She let her head rest on her folded arms as she turned toward the fence. It was now too dark to see the hangar or any of the jets as Jake reached around and undid the front of her jeans. He yanked them down along with her sage green thong before unzipping his own pants and letting his cock rest against her butt.

"You weren't kidding, Smart Girl," he whispered, teasing her clit and running his finger through her slit. "You're soaked."

The evening air was cool on her bare skin, and when he separated her with his long fingers, she shivered for so many reasons. Then he connected them together, plunging inside her as she cried out.

"Shhh," he warned, and she bit her lip. "Be a good girl. I'll make it fast."

"Oh god," she groaned softly, her whole body bouncing against the tailgate with each of his rapid thrusts. She couldn't stop the little grunts and needy sounds she made for him every time his hips slammed into her butt, but he was moaning her name softly too as he fucked her.

He just went harder and harder, and Jessica had to hold onto the tailgate with quivering fingers as he hit the spot that made her shake for him. "Jake," she whispered as he leaned down over her back as she came. But he wasn't done yet.

His voice was rough like the gravel beneath her feet. "I love you. I love fucking you. I can't wait to take you home. I can't wait to fly with you." He grabbed her hips and drove himself deep as she continued to clench softly around him, and then he came too. And this time she had to remind him to be quiet.

"Jake, you're so loud," she warned as his thrusting grew shallow. "And I see headlights," she hissed.

"Fuck," he growled, pulling out of her and sending his cum dribbling down the insides of her thighs as she yanked up her underwear and jeans. There was definitely a security vehicle headed past the hangar on some sort of patrol route. "Let's get out of here," he said, pulling her toward the driver's side door.

Jessica scampered inside, barely making it to the passenger seat before Jake had the engine roaring to life and the truck shifted into reverse. Deftly and with a smile on his face, he reversed back down the bumpy road like it was nothing. "That was a little close," he said as he slowed down before making it back to the pavement.

She bit her lip and said, "What if I said I kind of love tailgate quickies?"

He glanced at her as he slowed at a stop sign. "Well then I would say I'll come up with a list of places we can sneak off to."

Her hand stroked his thigh as she said, "Get to work on that."

-------------------------

The fact that Jake managed to pull this off after weeks and weeks of planning left a smile on his face. On Monday, he watched as Phoenix helped Jessica into a flight suit in the hangar, and then he handed her a helmet. She was grinning at him as she slipped it onto her head. "You look like you're ready to go, Dr. Reed," he said as he fastened it into place for her.

"I'm so ready, Lieutenant Seresin," she replied, bouncing slightly on her booted feet as she ran her fingers along the HANGMAN patch on his own flight suit. "How many Gs do you think we'll hit? Can we roll upside down?"

"Jesus," he laughed. "Next thing you'll be leaving me in the fall to go to flight school."

She pouted and said, "My eyesight is too poor."

He kissed the tip of her nose before picking up his own helmet. "Not to be a WSO."

"Oh my god, Jake! You're right!"

She asked him a million questions in a row as she followed him across the tarmac, and he could only answer about half of them for her. "Why don't you tell me, Reedy," he finally said as she climbed the first rung of the ladder. "You're way smarter than me."

She turned back and looked at him. "Maybe just a little bit. But you know how to do the one thing I'll never get to do. Actually fly this thing!"

He placed a hand on her waist, giving her a squeeze through the rough fabric. "I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself. I'll try to answer any questions you have when we're in bed later. How does that sound?"

She nodded at him as her eyes went wide. "That actually sounds great. Let's go." She then climbed the ladder in record time, leaving Jake laughing on the tarmac before he followed after her.

He would be happy to follow her as long as she would let him.

--------------------------

Jessica Reed is just winning so hard now. Fuck off, Brian. One more filthy part of this story to come. Thanks for reading! And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 23

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@katiebby04

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

380 notes · View notes

hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog · 3 months ago

Text

Happy Monday Everyone! So I have a new series for you that I will be dropping either one chapter a week or multiple chapters this week, I am still deciding.

This series came way of a message/ask from @hobby27 she asked:

"I would love something with Jensen and reader. He sees her when he’s at a convention and he’s bonkers for her. She isn’t so interested in a relationship with him because of the fame. So he has to woo her. Make her understand that he’s not a typical movie/tv star. Slow burn."

So I give you the Limelight series- It's a Jensen x reader (plus size, curvy girl) story, Jensen meets the reader in a bar, he falls fist, she is reluctant of course, but secretly she fell for him the second he walked through the door. So can a small town girl and a celebrity make it work?

Warnings for the whole series: language, multi-pov and switching between the pov mid chapters (sorry I can't help it), Jensen coming off aggressive for a hot second but then cooling off. Some douche side characters and some lovable ones, body shaming, angst, fluff, swoon, Jared is there and Micha is mention.

This story takes place an AU where Jensen is not married but Jared is and has kids.

This chapter is 2K+. Feedback, likes and reblogs are always welcomed. Please don't post as your own work, this is my work.

Thanks!

Chapter 1

You weren't sure what possessed you to come out tonight. The city is a small lakeside tourist trap in the height of summer. It's Friday night, so it's already going to be busy. Add the fact that the first-ever Supernatural convention is taking place in a town over, and there are rumors that some cast members might appear in small-town Haven. Has every woman, single or not, out looking to catch the eye of Jared Padalecki or Jensen Ackles.

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less. That's not to say you didn't think both men weren't great actors. You're the first to put your 'Supernatural number one fan card' against anyone. You watched the show religiously, even re-watched it whenever you needed comfort or a break from the world. You had also fallen into reading and writing a few fanfics under a pen name.

You also weren't immune to their handsome good looks; both are sexy men in their own right. You lean more towards Jensen than Jared if you had to choose. Something about those hypnotic green eyes and the 'Dean voice.' God, that got you through some lonely nights, for sure.

So why aren't you going boy-crazy at the fact that your celebrity crush was just one city over, or for that matter, could be in the same bar as you right now? One, you are a realist: the likelihood of him coming out, or you actually seeing him, is slim, if not nonexistent. Second, the idea of celebrity life - living in the limelight, having all eyes on you, never getting a moment to yourself - no thank you. You will take being an anonymous nobody and being able to look and act however you want without ending up on the front page of the gossip rags.

Pushing your way through the crowd of the local dive bar, you survey the crowd to see the overabundance of female to men ratio. You finally squeeze past and grab the last open barstool at the corner, next to where the wait staff come to grab their orders. Saying hi to the waitress as she loads up her tray, you take a seat and wave over at the bartender.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." The bartender, James, gives you a smile and wink.

Stuffing the bar towel in his back pocket, he walks to you and tosses a cardboard coaster. "Didn't think you would be one of those desperate celebrity chasers." He jokes.

He places his hands on the bar and leans towards you. His lean, muscular frame is accented by his dark denim jeans and black button-down, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, showing off the nice tan he's been working on.

Shaking your head at him, "Now, James, I wouldn't knock your guest too loud; God knows you're not mad at the extra business…or the female clientele." You quip, picking up the coaster to fiddle with.

You survey the room and guess it's a two to five-ratio of guys to girls in the bar tonight. "Besides, I wanted a drink." Letting out a sigh, you try to convince yourself that's why.

Not buying it, but not having the heart to call you out on your bullshit this early in the night, James gives you a nod, "OK, sure, so the usual?" He asks as he grabs the tequila to make you a margarita.

"You know my weakness."

"That I do."

Later that night

You felt good and relaxed over an hour in and two margaritas down. The day's stress dissipates, and you're glad you came out. Besides chatting with James every time he had a few minutes, you also got to reconnect with some of the other bar staff you hadn't seen.

The crowd has started to thin out, with news that the cast members were staying in the city to party. Sightings of them all over at the more trendy bars had the sober guests heading out and the not-so-sober ones heading home. James let the last waitress clock out early, leaving only you and James. James made his way back over to you.

"So, you're still here. Thought you would have hightailed it to the city by now." He jokes, running a hand through his dark, short locks. His blue eyes locked with yours.

"I told you, I just came out for a drink, not to hunt down a celebrity. Besides, we never get to hang out anymore. Why is that?" you question, pushing your empty glass toward James in a not-so-subtle attempt to have him refill it.

He takes the hint. Grabbing the glass, he slightly laughs at this, "Come on, Y/N, we see each other. I mean, yeah, not as much anymore, what with me taking over this place and you working in the city more on your art. How is that going? Are you happy with your decision?" He asks, saying so much with those questions. He finishes up your drink and sets it down.

You were happy with your choice; it was for the best. Even if it meant you gave up half of the bar and steady income so you could pursue your passion. You're about to answer him when the sound of the front doors opens. Looking over, you can't believe your eyes when you see, fucking Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki walk through the doors.

You snap your head back after staring at them both for what seems like forever. Fuck, they both look even better in person.

"No fucking way!" James almost screams out. You look up at him to see he is nearly hyperventilating.

"OK, James, you got to calm down." You counsel, slightly put off by him freaking out when he, on multiple occasions, would tease you for liking the show. Watching him flap his hands and pull out the bar rag to wipe the sweat from his forehead as his cheeks red.

You had to call him on this. "Are you a fan?"

He looks over to you, sees the twinkling of mischief behind your eyes, and sighs, "OK, fine, yes." He quips back in defeat that his big secret is out.

"I watched the show, and so did you." He tries to defend himself.

"Yeah, and I was open about it. You were the one that made fun of me every time I talked about it. Bitch."

"Jerk." James quips back out of reflex, which gets you to point at him.

"Hey, can we get a pitcher of whatever the house draft is?" Deep and smooth, his voice hits you like a freight train, pulling James and you out of your impending tiff and back to reality. A reality where Jensen Ackles is standing ten feet away from you, on the other side of the bar, wanting to get a pitcher of beer.

He is standing there in well-fitted light-wash jeans and a faded blue T-shirt. Sunglasses hang off the v-neckline and a baseball cap tuck in his back pocket. Your eyes lock with his, and the rumors are true—they are green like a fairy princess.

You look away and see Jared sitting with two other guys at a table. They are not actors from the show; they must be friends or bodyguards.

"Umm…Yeah, man, coming right up. Just the one?" James stammers as he reaches the well to pull the pitcher.

"Umm…better make it two, Jared's a big guy and all." Jensen jokes. Pulling his eyes from you to the bartender.

"Umm…you got a kitchen back there?" He questions, trying to keep the small talk up so he can stay here for a few more minutes. There is something about you; he can't place it, but it's like he's drawn to you.

"Yeah, but our cook bailed on me tonight," James replies. Setting the pitchers on the bar. Scrabbling when he sees Jensen's slight disappointment in the lack of food.

"But I am sure Y/N wouldn't mind going back there and whipping up something." Turning his attention to you and giving you a shit-eating grin.

Your head snaps up to look over at James and Jensen. "What?" You question, wondering why he dragged you into this.

"Yeah, she's an excellent cook, chef really, she actually…"

"I am sure my cooking wouldn't match your sophisticated palate." Cutting off James before he can give Jensen your life story, giving him a stare down that conveys 'shut the fuck up.'

James has a habit of making your accomplishments sound grander than they were. He takes up the role of a proud parent, which you never ask him to do.

Y/N, hmm, beautiful name. Letting the name roll around in his head. Jensen takes this opportunity with your eyes, shooting daggers at the bartender to let his eyes take you all in. She is in light-wash jeans, tall black boots, and a leather jacket over a vintage concert t-shirt that hugs her curves in all the right places. She's giving off a 'don't fuck with me vibe,' but he can tell it's just a front.

"Darling, don't let celebrity status fool you. We're just a group of guys out for a few drinks and looking for good local food." Giving a smile to seal the deal.

His voice pulls her attention back to him, and he can see the front crumble away, her cheeks tinting pink.

"Jared there will eat just about anything you put before him." He says, thumbing back towards the guys.

You look over his shoulder to see Jared and the two other guys watching your interaction. Jared gives you a half smile.

"Jensen, stop harassing the girl already. I can't take this guy anywhere." He jokes and turns his attention back to his buddies.

Getting up from the barstool, you put some money on the bar, "I should be going, night James." Keep your voice low and as even as possible.

You can feel yourself becoming embarrassed by the seconds with all the attention on you. Unfortunately, you must walk past Jensen and his friends' table to get to the door. As you walk past the table, one of the anonymous guys pipes up.

"Seriously, I am starving. Why did we even come out this way? Dumb bitch, not like she doesn't know her way around a kitchen, just look at her." He spits out.

You know you should keep walking; it's not like you haven't heard your fair share of fat jokes and comments about you before. Especially from drunk, pretty boys. Something about this time, though. Maybe it's because it's in front of your celebrity crushes. After all, you have a few drinks in you as well. Whatever it is, you turn on your heels so you can face the douchebag.

"Oh, real original, ass. God, you must be the brains of the group." You spat back. Placing your hands on your hips to really show off your frame.

He doesn't say anything at first. He is your typical frat boy, with short blonde hair and brown eyes staring back at you. You can see the wheels turning in his head. The other anonymous guy sitting next to him is a carbon copy of him, but he is looking across the booth to Jared for some kind of help.

"Dude, Evan, come on," Jared says, giving him a look of dismay that he just said those things. Turning his attention to you, "I am sorry…" He starts to apologize to him.

You hold up your hand to stop him. "It's fine, really." You reply, giving him a half smile. You're tired, and dragging this out any longer is not something you want to do tonight.

"Yeah, Jared, it's fine. A bitch like that, this is probably the most attention she has had from a guy in a long time." Evan jokes and playfully punches the guy next to him, wanting some backup on his 'stellar' dig at the local girl.

Turning away from them, shocked that he is still talking, you just want to escape. Your eyes lock with Jensen, but his attention is on the table. He's fuming and looks like he is about to punch Evan. He starts the short walk towards the table.

"What the fuck…" he yells.

Stepping in his path, he stops just inches from you when you put your hand on his chest. The feel of your hand on him, you standing right before him, snaps him back.

"Well, we wouldn't want you boys to starve now, would we?" You say sweetly. Your voice is low and even. Knowing that you need to diffuse this situation before a bar brawl breaks out and somehow the gossip rags hear about it.

The feel of his shirt under your fingers as you lightly tap his chest is soft. You would give anything to stay like this for a bit longer, taking in his smell of whiskey and leather. That's the one thing the fanfic girls and guys got right. Maybe they got other things right, too, your mind wonders.

You give Jensen a smile and turn to face the table. "Do you guys have any allergies I need to know about?" Your question, "Don't need to have anyone go into anaphylactic shock and have the media all up in my ass."

The two unknowns say nothing and seem interested in the countertop, then looking up at you. You don't blame them. Seeing the fury that Jensen was in, you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

Jared also looks pissed at them, glaring at them both before replying. "No, I think we're all good."

Giving a short nod, you turn back, seeing Jensen's eyes lock on you now. He has calmed down a bit, but he also looks slightly disappointed. You cock your head to the side.

"Hey, you OK?" You question, your voice low, only for him to hear.

He takes a second, giving you a nod. He clears his throat. "Yeah, umm…I am sorry…" he starts apologizing, but you stop him.

"It's fine, Jensen. If you haven't noticed, I am a big girl in multiple ways." You wink at him and pat his chest before side-stepping him and heading back towards the kitchen.

Back to the bar, you shuck off your jacket and toss it to James. "Good because, honestly, I don't care." You quip back to let them all know you could give a rat's ass what their dietary needs were.

This gets a laugh out of Jensen, pulling him back into a better head space. He can see more of her; the short-sleeved gray t-shirt contrasts sharply with her deep purple hair. Letting his eyes roam over her beautiful curves, god, he wishes he was the only one that came out tonight. She is feisty and can hold her own. Her voice is heaven, and he wants to listen to her talk all night.

"I'll have some food right out." Saying over your shoulder as you push open the kitchen doors.

To Be Continued.....

96 notes · View notes

mymegrokosmos · 4 days ago

Text

B specifically asked not to be hurt but it's her bday weekend so instead of listening we are writing Yunho smut on this fine Friday evening. Anyway, uh yeah... best friend Yunho. 🔞

content : mentions of drinking, thigh riding, unprotected sex, slightly dubious consent, best friends Yunho and reader fooling around.

The evening started the way Thursdays typically did. You showed up at Yunho's cramped little excuse for an office, shared with the always courteous San and Seonghwa, to find him the only one working late. San was just packing up when you walked in, Wooyoung perched halfway on his desk chattering away as you offered them both a wave. You weaved your way past them, carefully avoiding Seonghwa's little shelf of lego creations, to drop down onto the corner of the desk Yunho typically had half covered in papers and miscellaneous stationary.

"Fancy meeting you here."

He glanced up from his grading, pen tapping against his bottom lip as he sat back with a sigh when he finished the page. "Hello stranger."

You smiled as he ran a hand through his already messy dark hair. It was always in disarray after these classes. His TA position stressing him out more this semester than it usually did. He was better at managing most of the time but his course load was heavy lately and he'd been staying later and later to finish marking and assignments. The balance wasn't exactly work life balancing and you had yet to see him actually sleep once this week.

He ran a hand over his face when you quirked a brow at him, glancing between him and the pile of papers on his desk. "When are these marks due in?"

"Tuesday."

"How many do you have left to get through?"

"Maybe twenty more? I should be able to finish a few more tonight and then run through the rest tomorrow. Then I can sit down and study for that Stats exam Sunday and help you with our presentation Monday."

"And are you planning on sleeping any time between now and then?"

He sighed. "y/n you know I'm doing my best here. I just don't have time."

You shook your head. "Finish that one and I'll borrow Hwa's or Sannie's desk space to sit down and get through more of our presentation. Then we can go back to mine, since Mingi is definitely not going to let you get any sleep tonight, and I'll help you with the rest of these tomorrow."

He blinked up at you. "You've already done like three quarters of the work on this presentation."

"So it won't be much more when I make up 85% and you have a fresh, functioning, brain to look over everything before the final draft Monday. Plus, you're my best bet at actually passing stats and if we're going to be studying all weekend we can at least get some rest in between. And I have plenty of caffeine."

He groaned. "Please do not even talk to me about caffeine right now."

His leg jiggled and you laughed. "On your fifth americano of the day or something are we?"

He shrugged and held up four fingers, biting his lip. You shook your head.

"I'm not even going to ask. Speedrun your marking, I'll be over there and then I'm buying you a drink on the way back to my apartment. If anyone deserves it, it's you. And maybe it'll counteract some of the blood in your caffeine system."

A laugh and then you both turned to set back about your own tasks.

You hummed softly as you worked, only glancing at the time once you'd finished the last section of the powerpoint. Yunho's fresh eyes would catch a ton of small details you'd missed but that was fine. It was why he was always the final run-through on these things. You cracked your back and stretched, pressing save and closing your laptop. You found Yunho pretty much exactly where you had left him.

He sat hunched over his desk, chin resting in one hand as a red pen tapped against one cheek while he poked his tongue into the other. He was so focused or lost in whatever train of thought he was currently jotting down in the margins of the paper he was nearly done that he didn't even start when you came over. You leaned back against the corner of Hwa's desk and watched. He adjusted the glasses on his face as he finished and you bit your lip as he cracked his neck.

"If you keep doing that one of these days you're going to break something important."

It always made you just a little nervous. He grinned, dropping the pen as both arms came up over his head in a stretch you could almost feel. He flopped back into his chair, legs spread, and adjusted the glasses that had begun slipping down over the bridge of his nose. You just sighed and dropped into his lap.

"Done for the night?"

His forehead dropped forward to rest against the back of your shoulder as you cleaned up his desk, hands resting on your thighs as his fingers drew abstract shapes on your jeans.

"Mhm, if I start another one right now I think my head might just explode."

You smiled and started shuffling his things into a pile. "Help me clean up and then we can leave. I have a bottle of soju or seven with your name on them in the fridge."

His little cheer was muffled against the back of your shirt as you both got up.

It didn't take long to walk to your building, your apartment wasn't far from the building all his classes were in this semester and Yunho's long legs forced you to walk a little faster than you would have alone. His presence did make the dark campus feel a little less foreboding so you stuck close as you headed inside and up to your unit.

He followed you in like he always did, at home here since he'd lived part time in your apartment before he and Mingi moved in together last fall. He was more than familiar. You dropped your things in the living room and headed to the kitchen to see what flavours of soju you had available. There was a selection.

It had maybe been a bad idea to suggest alcohol on an empty stomach.

You found yourself half naked, having lost a round of strip poker or two before the takeout arrived, leaning against Yunho's shoulder as you both burst into laughter for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour. The food was great and you shoved another bite into Yunho's mouth before he could launch into another story.

"Please shut up and eat your noodles before I suffocate. I think I broke a rib just now."

He chuckled, taking the chopsticks from you and scarfing down the rest of the container while you wiggled around trying to get your bones to sit right again. Your ribs and face hurt from laughing and you were pretty sure you'd cried off most of your mascara already. You took a deep breath.

"Why do I ever listen to you? You're so ridiculous, you know that?"

He grinned and you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted to his lips, lingering a little as you reached up to brush a bit of sauce from the corner. His breath hitched and you blinked up at your best friend.

"Okay?"

He nodded.

"Sorry, I should have asked first."

He shook his head, hand coming up to capture your wrist. You knew, in theory, that they were large but the ease with which his long fingers circled your wrist had you staring. This was new. Or was it?

You didn't think you were that tipsy.

"Hey Yun?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you pinch me please?"

He smirked. "I can think of something better."

You blinked. His face hovered closer, moving slowly. You didn't stop him. Then his lips were on yours and oh, you were so not dreaming. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, making you squeak into his mouth and he laughed as he pulled away.

"I can't believe we've never done that before."

You reached up to touch your lips, and then to pinch him.

He jumped. "Yah! Hey! You can just tell me if you didn't like it."

You smiled. "I did like it. I was just making sure I didn't black out and accidentally dream this."

He sighed. "No, we're both still awake. Was that really necessary?"

You shrugged and then you were leaning up to kiss him again. He tasted like soju, what was new there, and the strawberry chapstick Hwa had bought him for his birthday last month. His lips were soft and everything but gentle as they worked against yours. You lit up when his tongue parted your lips and plunged into your mouth, sighing against his lips.

He was a good kisser, you'd give him that. Your hands found his wide shoulders and you braced yourself as you climbed into his lap to get closer. Something about Yunho was just addictive and as long as he was good with where this was going, you didn't want to stop.

He was right, why had you never made out before? You'd definitely gotten drunk and tried other things together over the years. It should have been only natural that this was on the list of experimentation, you'd known him since high school after all, but kissing was just one of those things you'd never dared to initiate with Yunho before now.

His hands were everywhere and you found yourself whining into his mouth when they slid down to cup your ass. He squeezed and you rocked forward, gasping as he adjusted you like you weighed nothing. You let Yunho manhandle you, moving you from his lap to straddling one large thigh. You nipped at his jaw when he pressed your hips down, guiding them over his still jeans-clad leg.

"Yunho." You whined.

It was unfair that he was still so clothed while you sat there in just your underwear. It was a matching set at least but neither of you was really paying attention to that particular detail. You tugged on his shirt and he leaned back to watch you unbutton it, hand coming up to fold behind his head. His eyes were dark as they trailed over you and you could feel the heat pooling in your gut.

"Tell me to stop and we can."

You shook your head. "If you stop now I'm disowning you. Hongjoong is going to be my new best friend."

He laughed and leaned in to press kisses down your neck, humming softly against your skin as you finally managed to get him out of his shirt, shoving it off over his shoulders.

He pulled you back in, one hand on your waist guiding you to rock against his flexed thigh as the other came up to cup your breast. "Do you have any idea how pretty you are like this?"

You hummed. "A mess?"

He shrugged, the hand on your breast moving to unclip your bra in one smooth motion. "For me, yeah, that's hot."

"Mm, because you're the one making me desperate?"

He nodded, head dipping down to catch a nipple in his mouth. You gasped, hand tangling in his hair and he groaned as you tugged when his tongue flicked over your skin.

"You have no idea how desperate you make me. It's nice being the one with the upper hand for once."

Before you could ask what, exactly, he meant by that his hands and mouth busied themselves making it impossible to think. You gave in, only getting a minute to breathe when he flipped you around and pulled you back against his chest.

You leaned your head back, tilting your neck to give his lips better access while his fingers moved to trace your wetness over your panties. He bit down on your shoulder when you gasped, fingers trailing under the fabric to ghost over where you needed him the most. He groaned against your skin and you gasped when one finger slid inside you, slowly sinking up to the knuckle.

"Fuck."

"Mm, too much?"

You shook your head, hand grasping his wrist. "No. No, don't stop."

The chuckle against your neck had you shivering. "Oh, greedy tonight are we? My good girl wants another?"

You struggled to force your eyes open. "Please Yun, feels so good. Fill me up. Please."

He didn't ask again, sinking two more fingers knuckle deep as they continued to pump in and out at his pace. He worked you fast and didn't let up until you were shaking, clawing at his thighs and begging. You were pretty sure you'd started crying and you didn't care, the orgasm that swept over you was worth it.

When you caught your breath enough to whimper his name again he was already pulling out his cock, groaning as he adjusted you on his lap again, legs hooking underneath yours to keep you spread open for him.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you cum."

He was stroking himself with the hand that, moments ago, had been mostly inside you. You forced your thighs to cooperate a little longer as you turned to straddle him properly again, hips rocking as his tip slid along your slit, now slick with your own release. He moaned and you found yourself smirking.

Oh, so this was what he had been on about. It did feel good, seeing him such a mess for you, especially when you had barely done anything.

"Let me, please, don't need to be inside but can I...?"

His pathetic whines had you biting your lip and nodding. "Yes, yes Yun. Use me however you need."

You swear he almost came at those words, stopping to stare you dead in the eye and then he was guiding his length along your slit like a man possessed. He felt so good you let your eyes slide shut, hands anchored on his shoulders as you felt him slip inside.

"Mm... just the tip. Please y/n."

His begging nearly undid you. You nodded, hips rolling with his and then suddenly he was grasping you by both hips and slamming up into you. The size of him knocked the breath from your lungs and he groaned.

"Fuck, shit, sorry. Just felt so good. Couldn't help it."

You rocked your hips a little, testing the stretch, and his hips stuttered. You'd never seen him like this and fuck if it wasn't more than a little intoxicating. The breathy moans, the whines as he held himself still just long enough for you to adjust to the sheer length of him pressed fully inside you.

You both paused as he pressed a hand to your pelvis and you caught a glimpse of him bulging in your abdomen. You gasped, he groaned, and then you were being pressed down into the couch while he hovered over you.

"Please please let me do that again."

You guided his hand, back arching as he slammed into you. You watched as he traced his fingers over the outline, cursing under his breath, and whimpered when his pace suddenly went from manic to man on a mission. He was rutting into you so hard he had to hold your waist to keep you from sliding all the way up the length of the couch but neither of you noticed the way the sofa creaked beneath you with every snap of his hips.

By the time he pulled out, hand fisting his cock as he painted your stomach, you were already seeing stars again. You arched up against him, whining and moaning his name as your hand slid down to your clit, fingers working you through your climax while he caught his breath.

"Who knew all needed was to get railed?" You teased, when you glanced up and met his eyes.

He laughed, sweat dripping down his forehead as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. That set you off and then you were both shaking with laughter.

"At least let me clean you up before we make another mess."

#ateez x reader #jeong yunho #university #teaching assistant #ateez scenarios #ateez #yunho x reader #smut

56 notes · View notes

mewhenimanangel · 1 year ago

Text

everywhere ʚɞ miles morales x reader

pairing: 42!miles morales x reader

synopsis: you beg miles to help you write your extra credit paper so he invites you over.

wc: 3.2k

warnings!: swearing, harassment, creepy men, n word use, making out, google translate spanish

prev ʚɞ fin

why are you everywhere, fuck. miles couldn't get you out of his head it's like you were taking over his life. you became the center of his drawings, spending like three hours perfecting the small details on your face, your wispy eyelashes, the brown and pink in your lips, everything. and that kiss didn't make it any easier, it wasn't his first kiss but god it made him obsessed.

it was becoming a problem for his prowler work, his uncle told him to get his head in the game.

you were sitting in physics and he wouldn't stop trying to touch you. he kept his knee pressed on yours the whole class and kept crossing the imaginary line on the table to touch your elbow with his. you looked through the side of your eye and saw that he was staring at you. "the way i can feel your stare right now is insane" you giggled, whispering. "i literally don't know what you're talking about" he pressed his lips together and shook his head.

neither of you have spoken about the kiss you'd shared three nights ago. things weren't awkward it just kind of went back to the way it was before. at least that's what you thought.

it was the end of class and your teacher assigned a partner paper that was due on monday for extra credit points, miles didn't need the points however you did. "can you pleasee just work with me?" you begged, following behind him down the hall. "i don't even need it? i have a 98" he told you. "alright well unlike you my grade sucks, pleaseee i wanna make honor roll, and right now i have a 79" you pleaded, hooking his arm. he let you keep your hand there, secretly enjoying the contact. "why don't you ask somebody else who needs it?"

"cause you're the only one i talk to there, everyone else seems boringgg. plus you're smart" you tried to inflate his ego to work in your favor. he didn't say anything he just looked down at your pleading eyes. "milessss" was all you said until he rolled his eyes. "relájate maldita sea, i'll do it with you. can you come to my house tomorrow night or your dad still hate me?" he joked and you laughed a bit. "if i tell him it's for school he might relax a lil" you said "so does that mean you'll help??" you asked again with a smile on your face.

he loved that on you, definitely going back in his sketchbook. "ain't that what i just said chiquita"he scoffed. you squealed "thank youuu, okay i'll see you later" you pulled off his arm and turned down the hallway to your locker.

ʚɞ

you walked out of the grocery store with bags and a small baguette in hand that you were chewing on. god you adored the bakery in that store. you turned down the street in the direction of your building when you heard someone "ay pretty lady what you doing out here this late" you turned to your side and saw some random guy talking to you. "ha, don't worry bout me." you nervously said back, deciding to just keep walking. "ah mami, don't be so cold~" now you could hear the slurring in his words, obviously drunk. you still kept it pushing and he just followed behind. "that ass is looking tight though" he reached a hand out and squeezed at your butt.

"what the fuck?!" you shouted, reaching into your pocket for your mace to spray him. you turned around but paused when you saw the familiar mask you knew from the news, the prowler. he was staring at you with a finger over where his mouth would be and reached his claws around the guys neck and pulled him into the alleyway nearby. you heard the guy scream, and some thuds before ultimately what you thought was blood splatter and a body dropping to the ground.

that was when you decided to make a run for it, and when the grocery store was out of sight, you walked as fast as you could back to your building. even though he'd just helped you, you did not want to get caught up with the prowler at all. he would be on the news for various crimes - theft, arson, aggravated assault, murder, etc. again, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. you ran into your building and up the stairs unaware of that mask staring at you from the building across.

♱

miles was on his way home jumping from the rooftop to rooftop when he heard some voices on the street. he looked over and saw you being followed by some guy who looked drunk out of his mind. he followed on the roofs before jumping down, as silently as he could, behind the guy. he looked at the fright on your face and put a finger up to his mouth.

he grabbed the guy by the throat and pulled him into the alley behind him. he threw him down on the ground sending a kick to his face. he sent a punch to his face with his clawed gloved before throwing him up against the wall, sending another harsh blow to his face. it enraged him knowing that guy was tryna hurt you..or worse. he used the sharp claw to slice against his neck, the pressure sending his blood on the walls. he went limp and dropped to the ground. "one less fucking weirdo." he spat. he peeked out from the alley to see you were gone and practically sprinting back to your building, smart girl.

he followed behind you on the rooftops, something he's grown quite fond of doing when he would see you out on his patrols, to make sure you got home safe. he'd figured out which window was your bedroom a few weeks ago and didn't leave until he saw the lights turn on and your shadow illuminating against your curtains.

ʚɞ

it was friday afternoon and you got dressed to go over to miles' house. you got dressed in a pair of track pants with a baby tee and sneakers. you still wanted to look cute but you didn't want to feel like you were doing too much. you threw on your sweater and put your things in your bookbag and left.

you felt your palms getting sweatier the closer you got to the door. you knocked on it when you heard a muffled shout from behind the door. a few seconds later, you were met with miles - hair out and curly afro falling at the sides of his fade, black wife beater on that exposed his gold chain and well defined muscles. he had a pair of black joggers on that showed the waistband of his boxers, god he looked good.

"you gonna keep standing there or do you want to come in" he joked with you. you rolled your eyes fondly before taking your shoes off by the door "you took your braids out" you pointed out. "getting em redone tomorrow" he told you. "by the way, my mom's here and she insisted on making you dinner" he told you, you nod your head before following him to the kitchen. "ahh cariño, you must be y/n" a woman greeted you with a smile and a hug. "i'm miles' mom, rio. when he told me he was bringing his little girlfriend over i had to meet you. and i made dinner, hope you don't mind" she told you. "momm" miles groaned making you giggle.

"not at all ms morales" you smiled at her. "miles baby be a gentleman, take her bag and her sweater for her" she told her son. he went up behind you and gently pulled them off your back before going to his room. "you want a plate baby? i made pollo guisado y arroz" she asked you. "that sounds really yummy, thank you" you answered. miles came back from his room and shared his own plate along with you guys' and you all sat at their dining table. you sat in the chair that you figured was his dad's and you found yourself growing a little sorry.

you took a bite of your food and your face twisted in delight. "oh this is so good, been too long since i had good home food" you admitted, taking another bite. "thank you sweetie" her face softened with a sorrowful look. she'd heard about your mom after miles explained why he ditched school and why she got a call from some man telling her he was kissing his daughter.

"your house is really nice by the way, i love the feel of it it's so pretty" you told her. "ahhh you're gonna give me a big head, thank you bonita" she smiled at you. you looked up and saw a picture of miles sitting on the wall ledge when he was a toddler, mean mug on his face. "awww is that you?" you asked him, pointing to the picture. he looked at where you were pointing and smiled a little before nodding his head. "ahhh you're so adorablee" you said in a baby voice. he looked at you and you continued "and you still got that same mug" you joked, poking his cheek.

rio began sharing stories of miles when he was a kid and how stubborn he was. how he would test his parents' patience even though he knew they didn't play like that. she pulled out her phone and opened an album she had dedicated to miles and gave you to scroll through. you giggled at how cute and silly he was, but he did not seem amused. a video popped up of rio recording jeff throwing a small miles in the air and telling him how much he loved him. the air grew a little somber and rio cleared her throat "um don't you guys have a project or something, i don't wanna keep you waiting all night" she said picking up the plates.

"uh i can help wash up" you offered. "no, está bien. go hang out and do your work." she smiled. you followed miles to his room and looked around at his choice of decor. his bed sheets were a plain black, not much decorations on his wall except for a few rappers and album covers. he had a desk by his window and a mirror on the side of it. on his desk sat a laptop, notebooks, a lamp, pictures of his mom and dad and a sketchbook off to the side. it was open to you decided to be nosy and move closer to take a peek.

your eyes jumped a little bit when you saw what was an unfinished drawing of your face mid smile. "is this meee?" you picked it up and turned the page back one. this time it was multiple sketches of you from different angles. he moved to pull the book out of your hand and you gave him an awkward smile. "someone's obsessed. am i your muse?" you teased him. he closed the notebook and hid a smile shaking his head, "you are mad nosy" he told you. "draw me like one of your french girls, miles" you teased him some more.

you looked at his posters "frank, tupac, okay tasteee" you said. you continued looking around the room but he didn't seem too bothered by it considering he was sat on his bed just watching you. you looked a little through his shelves, checking out his book collection "i didn't know you read, scholar" you said, taking one down to read it. when you did that, something fell to the floor. miles jumped up to stop you from picking it up when he realized what it was. your smile dropped when you saw the mask you'd just encountered the night before.

"wait what is this?" you asked, tone a little more serious. "listen" was all he got out before you kept going. "don't tell me you're..." you looked at the mask and then back at him, mouth dropping as you made the connection. "ohh don't tell me you're the prowler!" you got a little louder and he slapped a hand over your mouth. "would you hush?! my mom doesn't need to know" he whisper yelled. you stuck your tongue out to lick his hand and he pulled it off you wiping your spit in his sweats. "well that's a really fucking dumb hiding spot!" you yelled back in a whisper.

"miles, you are the prowler??" you asked holding the mask in your. he looked away from your eyes before letting out a sigh and nodding his head "you cannot tell anybody" he pointed a finger to you . "aren't you literally killing people and stuff?? how could you do all of that?!" you argued in a hushed tone. "listen, you don't get it alright? im doing this to help my situation out so don't be coming up in here and judging me!" he argued back.

you sympathized with him a bit before biting back "but you're killing people, oh my fucking god you killed that man last night!" "i was doing that for you! stop fucking walking by yourself at night by the way" he said back to you.

"when did i ask you to do that for me?" you pointed a finger to your chest. "y/n don't you get it. i would do anything for you" he was getting desperate, moving closer to you. "what?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "there's not a line in the world that i wouldn't cross for you." he grabbed your hands. you didn't know what to say next. the tension was so high and you two just looked at each other.

he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, the force pushing you back into his shelf. his hands moved to your waist and your arms crossed behind his neck, deepening the kiss. he pushed his knee between your legs and your breath hitched in your throat. rio opened the door coming into the room "miles gonzalo morales, no hanky panky! you have work to do. ��puerta abierta!" she shouted before leaving. your heart sank in your chest and you took a deep breath before looking back into his eyes.

"right that's why i came here. didn't come here to argue with you, think i'm gonna leave now" you said moving past him to your bookbag. "don't. i can still help you, i could write it for you if you want" he tried to stop you. you pushed your feelings down, you do still need his help, you could be mad at him later.

you spent the next thirty minutes searching through your textbook for information and typed it while miles looked up formulas and concepts. you groaned and threw your head back on his pillows. "ey i told you i coulda just wrote it for you, you wanted to be stubborn. ahora haz el trabajo" he told you. you only whined in response before staying silent with your thoughts.

"why are you doing it?" you spoke up. "what?" he furrowed his eyebrows. "the whole prowler thing" "i told you. to help my situation out" he shrugged. you got up on your elbows "no but like why?" he sighed and rolled his eyes

"i do it to help my mom out. she keeps taking mad shifts at the hospital and no matter how much she tells me not to worry, i do. i don't wanna see her stressing herself out like that, it's not fair. so me and my uncle help her out, he was the one who had told me he was the prowler and then i took over but now he just helps me out. and listen i'm not killing people like that. i know what the news says about me and i've only really touched like three people, plus that guy last night. and if i do kill someone it's never innocent people." he explained.

"so like a vigilante typa thing?" you asked him. "i don't know maybe. probably not the good kind though. " he chuckled, feeling a little sorry. you sat and listened to everything he had to say "i know i'm not innocent either, not anymore. but i'm not gonna stop till things are right for us again. i really hope you can understand?" he asked you. you thought for a second before nodding your head. "i don't even know why i'm telling you all that, you not an opp right?" he raised an eyebrow at you. "no, please i could never" you giggled.

he leaned so his face was close enough that you could feel each other's soft breathing while you looked into each other's eyes. he pressed his lips against yours, loving the way your soft lips felt against his. the kiss was softer this time, different from the one before. he put his hands on each side of your jaw.

he moved to line kisses down your neck and you reveled in the feeling it gave you. you bit your bottom lip and put your fingers in his hair before you caught yourself. "wait" you pushed him back a little "your mom said no hanky panky" you mimicked her with a giggle. "so?" he said moving back to your lips. "so..your door is literally open and she's in the room next door" you told him. he moved back to your lips "i can close it" you kissed back for another minute before pulling away again.

"i have a paper to finish" you licked your lips and you could still taste him on you. he helped you finish your writing and after about an hour and a half you clapped, glad to be done. his mom poked her head through the door "mijo, it's getting late. think it's time y/n head home?" she asked the two of you. you both frowned a little bit but you figured it was pretty late and nod your head "yeah okay, we finished up anyways" you smiled at her. you packed your stuff in your bag and miles shoved his feet in his uggs.

"you're coming?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "duh. don't think i'm letting you walk by yourself" there was so much sass in his voice you had to laugh. "alright nigga relax" you giggled.

"have a good night sweetie" rio called out to you from the couch. "you too, mrs morales" you smiled and waved. miles opened the door and followed behind you.

the two of you walked down the few blocks in comfortable silence side by side. miles copied the speed you walked and made his feet match yours in sync. "thanks for helping me by the way. i deadass wouldn't have finished this until probably second period on monday" you told him. "and that's why your ass was pushing a D" he joked with you.

you got to the outside of your apartment building and said your goodbyes, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and entered the building, heading up to your apartment. you showered and went to lay down with a lot to think about.

taglist ౨ৎ

@prettypink-princesss @itsnotino @r3d0n33 @iluvprowlermiles @jmsanchoo @stevenknightmarc @melllinaa @

#NIA WRITES ࿐#across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles x black reader #spider man: across the spider verse #prowler miles #earth 42 prowler #black reader

645 notes · View notes

eclipixels · 1 year ago

Text

His Preformer

Summary: A wealthy and privileged classmate, Coriolanus Snow, visits a strip club with friends. Unexpectedly, he discovers you performing on stage. A little OOC Coryo.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Your hands shook as you looked at your paycheck from your current job waitressing. This wasn't going to be enough to cover your groceries this month if they went towards the bills.

You'd been debating for some time now on finding a new job but it was very hard. Especially with your schedule.

"Hey girl," your regular customer came in.

"Just a milkshake, I got my paycheck today and I'm trying not to splurge." The customer spoke. Her name was Sarah and she had become a regular customer at the local cafe where you worked. Every morning, she would stroll in, her vibrant personality shining like a beacon. She was friendly, chatty, and it didn't take long for Sarah and you to strike up a casual friendship.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep working here. My paycheck just isn't cutting it, and I'm drowning in bills." You spoke as you worked up the vanilla caramel milkshake.

Sarah sighed, "I totally understand where you're coming from, girl. I used to be in the same boat."

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You were? I had no idea. What did you do to change things?"

Sarah leaned in, lowering her voice. "I work as a stripper at the club down Stover street, it turned out to be a game-changer for me. The pay is much better, and I have more control over my income. Plus, it's given me the financial stability I was struggling to find before."

You consider Sarah's words and are intrigued, to say the least. Are you sure you wanna go into this?

"How do I start?" You ask.

♡

A low whistle drags through Casey's lips once he spots the dimly lit stage. Casey was one of Coriolanus's friends along with Sejanus. Coriolanus quickly glanced around the club, observing the tables and wasted men. He followed Sejanus and Casey into the heart of the building, where red LED lights buzzed as it flared through the perimeter of the ceiling.

"Table for three?" The lady at the desk asked, pen hovering over a clipboard. The boys look over at Coriolanus, and he gives them a slight shake of his head in response. They already knew he would say no. He says it every time. They still ask.

"Just two." Sejanus answers.

"Just so you know, we only take cash here." The lady said as she looked up past her computer.

"Shit- You can cover this, right, Snow?" Casey gave him Sheepish smile.

"Yeah." Coriolanus replied, pulling the $530 out his wallet and handing it over to the woman with the tight sleek bun.

"You're all set, right this way!" She smiles as she escorts the two capitol boys into the VIP private rooms.

"Great." Coriolanus whispers to himself as he is now left all alone. Despite the type of people his friends are, it was out of Coriolanus's element to be at a strip club. But, here he was.

He decided to leave and pick up his friends when they were done. While he was starting to leave, he scanned the dimly lit room looking for an exit. His eyes widened with surprise when his gaze landed on a familiar face across the venue.

You, a fellow classmate from the academy, were on the stage, captivating the audience with your graceful moves. Your hair cascaded down your back, and your confidence was undeniable. Coriolanus remembered you as the easily angered and studious girl who sat next to him in statistics, not whatever this was. What a surprise, he thought.

He had always found himself behaving childishly with you with both your bickering and arguing. He swore that he always tried not to engage in it but he couldn't help it, it was so fun to tease and mess with you.

He couldn't help but watch you perform. Thank God there weren't many people here on Monday nights, but even with the very few people that were here, watching you, something burned in his chest. He didn't like this feeling.

After your performance ended, he made his way to the bar, trying to blend in with the crowd. Ordering a drink, he formulated a plan. He wanted no one else to see you like that. He looked at all the university boys and middle aged men in the crowd. They didn't deserve you. But, neither did he and he knew that. However, that didn't help the pang in his chest.

Coriolanus knew if you saw him, you'd kick him in the balls before he could even get out a word. So, he spotted a rack of masks for sale near the entrance and selected one that covered most of his face. It was exactly what he needed.

With the mask now concealing his identity, Coriolanus approached the reception lady and discretely handed her a wad of cash. "I'd like to purchase a week's worth of dances for that performer," he said softly, avoiding eye contact.

The reception lady, who was used to such requests, nodded and discreetly noted down the transaction. Coriolanus's heart raced as he watched her send the message backstage. You wouldn't know who had paid for your week.

As you finished your shift and emerged from the back, you were met by Linda, the receptionist, who handed you an envelope. "A masked man bought a week's worth of dances from you," She explained. "He's waiting in room 7"

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you took the envelope. You had no idea who could have done this. You opened it, revealing a substantial amount of cash.

Back in the room, Coriolanus was dealing with the consequences of his overthinking, debating whether or not to just leave a note saying he didn't want the dances and to accept the payment as a gift. But, he knew if he did that, you wouldn't appreciate it. You were a girl who only enjoyed the fruits of your labor and would never accept anything out of charity. Stubborn. That, and the fact that you would probably still perform, so he had to take up your slot so no one else could see you.

Coriolanus knew this was selfish and maybe even weird to some people. But it's a win for both parties, so what's wrong with it? You're still making cash.

The door opens and it snaps Coriolanus out of his thinking.

"So, You're the guy who rented my whole week out?" Your voice boomed through the confines of the room, he always heard you before he saw you.

God, there you were. Y/n L/n, and you were practically dripping in gold. Coriolanus never wanted an incarnation of something so desperately as in this moment. He scanned you from head to toe and a smile broke out on his lips as he watched you tap your foot and cross your arms.

"Yeah, got a problem with that– what was your name again?" He speaks.

"Angel" You huffed, not sparing him a glance. He stifles a laugh at your announcement.

"What's so funny?" You quirked a brow, hands now dropping to your hips.

"Nothing. It's just- you're anything but an angel." He laughed, throwing his head back as he leaned back on his palms.

"Who do you think you are?" You scowl, cheeks turning a shade of red, and he couldn't help but find it amusing. This whole situation humored him.

"Clock's ticking, babe." He takes a sip of scotch, gesturing with his fingers to the cool, metal pole.

"You want a show?" You smirk, walking over to the pole. "I'll give You a show" your voice saccharine as the words rolled off your tongue.

Your thighs gripped around the metal as you lifted both your feet up and twirled your body in a spiral. You gracefully flipped yourself and came back down, the muscle on your thighs and arms flexing as you did.

"How's that for a show?" You smirked, fixing yourself into a position known as the skater pose.

"Impressive. How about you strip for me now? I mean, that is what I paid for." He started to get cocky.

"Of course." You bit your lip in annoyance and gave a fake smile, swallowing back a snarky remark. You took off your fitted but revealing top and skirt, leaving you in a spaghetti strap crop with shorts that were given to you by the staff.

"All of it." He commanded sternly, resting his chin on his palm with a lustful grin. Your lips curved as you stripped into only your red two-piece lingerie. Unbeknownst to you, his favorite color.

"What a sight for sore eyes.." Coriolanus mumbled low, his heart starting to race. You looked extraordinary, like an image of a goddess and he couldn't believe it was all in front of him like that. He felt so unworthy but- fuck, was he so greedy towards wanting you.

"What? Got nothing to say now?" You teased. It took a few seconds, but suddenly, he grabbed your waist and stood up, his free hand going up to cup your face.

"Y’know, red is my favorite color, pretty girl" He states, face inches apart. So close. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

You didn't know what came over you, or what you were feeling for this stranger. Why did it feel like your heart was ready to jump out every time his hands wandered over your exposed skin?

"Who are you?" You ask finally, resting your hand on his neck. Gosh, you didn't realize how tall he was until now, or how his curly blonde locks of hair fell over his masked face. Who was he? Who was this man that bought out your entire week and indirectly helped you be able to pay rent for the next four months? The sound of a phone buzzing brought you back to reality from your thoughts

"Sorry darlin'," he playfully pouts, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear to get one last good look at your enchanting face.

"But, I gotta go. My friends are done." The mystery customer sighed sympathetically before grabbing his coat and leaving you inside the private room like nothing happened between you two.

You didn't know much about this job but what you did know was people came here for lustful reasons yet you felt something motivated by a different emotion behind that man.

Who was he?

♡ - a few days later - ♡

The sleep deprived woman, you, walked into class, the click of your shoes alerting the blonde haired boy whom you classified as an, 'arrogant, stereotypical asshole'.

"What are you looking at?" You snap, noticing his gaze on your ass. You were contemplating whether or not you wanted to stab him with your pencil right then and there.

"Nothing" he muttered looking away, completely dazed as his mind worked through the flashbacks of his hands kneading the supple flesh of your ass between his palms as he fucked you.

"Dumbass," You muttered to yourself.

"You're not much of an angel yourself, either.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

No one else would've thought anything of this. It was common for Coriolanus Snow and Y/n L/n to bicker the whole damn day if they ever had the time. So no one else caught it.

Except for you yourself. Dread set in as you tried not to overthink the word he used. Angel. There's no way in hell anyone knew about your new side job. How could anyone, you’d only been with one guy ever since you started. Shit, he's the only guy on your roster there.

You sighed and did you best to get over it. Besides, You'll confront the mystery customer tonight when he comes again.

In the meantime, oblivious to you, Coriolanus needed to do something about the tightening of his pants. Fuck.

♡

"Starting to think you’re wearing red more often on purpose" the mystery man spoke.

He was back there again for the fifth time this week. Same old routine and although you knew not to have sex with the customers, you couldn't deprive yourself the pleasure that came with getting fucked so damn good. You craved to have him inside you.

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be flustered by the little compliments he always gave you. It was hard for you to decipher if he was being genuine or not. Besides, what would it matter if this guy knew about you little infatuation with him. It's not like something could be done about it.

"But.." He whispers next to your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder. You shivered as a chill ran down your spine with the touch of his index finger roaming along your bare skin.

"I think," he glides the flat of his palm down from your arm to the small of your back.

"It suits you way better off." He finishes his sentence by placing a delicate kiss to your neck while unclasping your bra. The fabric fell to the floor, and a gasp issued out from your lips.

"I don't even know your name and I could get in so much trouble." You spoke as if the words that left your mouth mattered to you. You let this man fuck you before so many times within the past few days, so why was it different this time?

"You're saying you don't want me?" He pouts, trying his best to not cum in his pants from you ass rubbing against his crotch when you bent over to pick up your bra.

"Well..." You bit your lips in shame. You did, you really fucking wanted to.

"Just say the words, Angel," He whined. "and I'm all yours,"

"I-" You choked. Your brain was screaming yes.

"Don't think of the consequences." He reassured, trying his best to conceal the want in his tone.

"Okay." You answered breathly, giving in to your desires.

"Okay? Are you certain?" He wanted to make sure. "You can always stop whenever you want–" He was cut off by the abrupt kiss from your honey coated lips.

"Yes." You firmly stated. Coriolanus grinned mischievously before hoisting you up, legs naturally wrapping around his waist. Your cognitive thinking went haywire as soon as he snaked his arms around you, holding you steady.

His tongue explored the inside of your mouth and you could taste the liquor that stained his tongue. You knew he was muscular but you never truly took into account how strong that made him. His muscles flexed as he went lower and lower down your body, trailing sloppy wet kisses.

"So" kiss.

"Beautiful" kiss.

The mystery man finally placed you down on the counter of the mini bar, falling to his knees. You didn't know why, but your cheeks were burning red. No person you had sex with ever had you this damn flustered.

His kisses on your lower abdomen continued. Once he reached your thighs, your heart started to race ever faster. His platinum tufts of hair pooling against your pelvis.

"You wet for me?" He whispers into your skin, breath fanning against it and hands dangerously getting closer to your core.

"No…" You stuttered, clearly embarrassed by how much your body wanted this. Wanted him.

"Oh?" He lifted a brow as he moved your panties to the side and ran two fingers down your cunt, picking up the natural lubricant that was practically pooling.

"Why’d you lie to me, Darling?" His lips form a fake frown before he licks your juices off his fingers.

"You know I only wanna give you pleasure" He dragged his warm tongue against your folds. You couldn't help but let out a cry when his tongue flicked your clit.

"Is this good?" He asks, the words vibrating against your heat.

"Mhm," you moan, hands finding their way into his hair and using it to anchor yourself against his face, grinding your hips down on it.

"Fuck!" You moan out in pleasure. You’ve never felt this confident with a guy before. You guessed it was something about not fully knowing his identity that gave you more courage. That you can walk out of here and never see him again in your life. He only existed here and something about that made you less fearful.

"You close?" His words were muffled against your needy cunt.

"Yes." You gasp out. Suddenly, he pulls away from the grip between your thighs.

"What? Why'd You do that?" You confront frustrated.

"Well, it's not fair for you to come before you even touch me." He answers arrogantly. What the hell was wrong with him? How could he go from being so sweet to such a jerk?

"Fuck your feelings," You groan before undoing his jeans, about to pull his boxers down too but he catches your wrists before you gets the chance.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" He stares at you with something unreadable in his eyes.

"Since you're all about fairness, I'm gonna give myself a reward for all the hard work I've been doing." You state as if it's a matter of fact.

"No, what's fair is all that hard work has been rewarded with several bands." He chastised.

"So I can't enjoy my job?" You scoffed with a weak argument.

"Nothing in your job description says anything about fucking. In fact, You're strictly told not to." He chuckled. You didn’t know that he knew about the rules, how naïve.

"So you want to stop?" You challenged. Gosh, why were you so difficult?

"Do you want me to stop?" He fired back with the same tone. You turned your head to the side and scowled immaturely as a response

"That's what I thought," he conceited. He picked you up and placed you down on the loveseat. You peeked through the corner of your eye as he pulled down his boxers.

He was touching himself slowly but he really didn't need to with how hard he already was. You squeezed your legs and gripped the seat from sexual frustration. This was fucking torture. He knew how bad you wanted him and took that to his advantage.

"Want something, Angel?" He taunted.

"Need" You mumble the word.

"Oh, I know,” He mocks, pulling you legs closer to him which made you yelp in surprise. You were entranced with how he handled you, finding the delicate balance between rough and gentle to be perfect. Coriolanus committed to memory every aspect of your body, from its curves to the way it responded to his touch.

"Gonna fuck you ‘till you forget your name," He groans as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

"Yeah?" You breathe.

"Mhm, gonna fuck you so good, you'll forget any other person who's ever had the privilege of touching you like this." He says before sinking himself into your body. You didn't realize you were holding your breath until you let out an exasperated sigh.

"Tell me how much you love it." He throws his head back, hips grinding smoothly against you like sweet molasses.

"So much," your words were barely coherent and his pace unforgiving. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, and filthy noises spilled out from both your throats.

"Tell me how bad you want it." His voice was no longer as rough as it was but instead had been replaced with neediness and whimpering.

"Till I can't walk." Your mind goes blank, and you are starting to babble.

"You look so cute going dumb on my dick." He coos, swooping his head down to place sloppy kisses. You squeeze your eyes shut from the sensitive sensations of his teeth on your collarbone.

"Faster," you whine, clawing your fingers on his back.

"If I go any faster, this loveseat is gonna break," he replied, and he was right. The furniture wasn't very sturdy.

"But, if we take this to my place, maybe I could." He flashes a boyish smile.

"In your dreams, mystery man." You roll your eyes at him.

"Mystery man?" He quirks a brow, pace starting to slow.

"Well, you never really told me your name." You moan out, sweat starting to bead on your skin at the slow dragging of his cock against your walls.

"I really thought you'd know me by this point, Y/n." His lips curved into a cheshire grin and you felt your heart stop. What did he just call you?

"How do you know my name?" Your mouth parts.

The man sighs before saying, "Y/n L/n, you’re from the districts but somehow managed to attend the Academy, you’re studying economics and you sit next to me first and fourth hour."

"How do you know all this– wait. Did you say we go to school together?" Dread set into you, and you quickly pulled the blonde haired man off of you.

There's no fucking way. You went to school with this guy? Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were screwed.

For a moment, everything was silent. Coriolanus's amused look faded. All there remained was worry etched onto his face. You stood there, face twisted into that of fear and concern of the unknown. Your hands gently came up, and your fingertips grazed the plastic of the mask.

"Who are you?" You asked for the dozenth time in an almost rhetorical way. What you really meant was who was this guy that you got yourself so tangled up with.

Coriolanus shuts his eyes as you took it off. The object clatters onto the floor, and your hand quickly clasps over your mouth.

"Coriolanus? You fucking Capitol brat!" You scream. "You need to fucking leave, I don't care how much you paid, leave." Within seconds a switch got flipped off in your brain and you knew nothing but anger.

"C'mon, darling. Don't be like that." He pleaded with a frown.

"Be like what? Angry? Upset? Enraged? Because I am! I am furious, Coriolanus. Who the hell do you think you are? I bet you already told all your little other egotistical jerk friends about this. How many people know? You know what, I don't even care. I can't fucking believe this right now, I just–" This time, he cuts you off and places his lips against yous like his life depended on it. He wanted you to feel everything he felt through that kiss.

You stood shocked and fought off the way your body wanted to melt into the kiss. You wanted to give in so bad, so so bad.

He pulled away and trailed down your jaw, and you let him. His lips felt so delicate and plush against your body, like they belonged there.

"I didn't tell anyone." He whispers gently, voice fragile and genuine.

"Find that hard to believe,"

"Y/n, please." He begged, and that's when you really looked into his eyes and read his face. He looked sincere and like he was about to break.

"I know you think I'm an asshole," he starts.

"I don't think, I know." You interrupt. He sucks his teeth as a response.

"But, I would never do something like that to you. When have I ever done something like that to anyone?" He reasons with you.

"I guess... You're right." You admit. He was right, he never had done something like that. Maybe you had unjustly judged him. Now that you thought about it, you had no valid reason to hate him.

"That still doesn't answer my main question. Why? Why did you buy my whole week? Why me if it wasn't to embarrass me?" You spoke.

"I don't know, I don't know why I did it at first. But now, I just can't imagine you with anyone else. The thought of you touching anyone else or letting anyone else touch you, I don't want that." He shakes his head, not noticing how his body tensed up.

"You like me?" You question.

"Well, I don't just have sex with anyone." He frowns, a tad bit hurt.

"Doubt that." You mutter.

"I'm serious." The expression on his face is stone cold, and you could tell that he wasn't lying. Yet, you couldn't wrap your head around it. He was the mystery man? The same guy that had you weak in the knees and red in the face? The same guy that irked you every second of the day that he saw you at school?

"I believe you." You sigh, letting your crossed arms loosen and fall to your side.

"Do you still want me?" He asks, eyes looking up at you with desperation.

"Look, I'm sorry for flipping out, but I can't do this, especially with you of all people. You're lucky there's no sharp objects around me. But, fucking you would just be embarrassing to my self-woth." You proclaimed before turning around to pick up your clothes.

"Are you sure?" He asks, his whole demeanor changing. You stood back up and when you did, you felt your back against his chest and your ass pressed up against his cock that was still covered in your wetness.

"Because I remember quite fondly how bad you said you wanted me and how good it felt when I was so deep in you." His playful behavior returned, and his teasing touch was making its mark on your skin again.

"Whatever you're trying to do, it’s not gonna work." You defected, voice betraying you.

"Really?" He implored. "You don't want me anymore?"

You didn't respond, knowing that if you did, you wouldn't be able to lie. Not when he looked at you with those eyes.

"You're saying you don't wanna feel me in you again, fucking you over and over again?

You whimper in response, forgetting how to form sentences as you mind went in a haze of lust.

"Asked you a question, darling." He pressed on, giving a sharp and sudden nip to your ear with his teeth. He doesn't move, giving you some time to think.

"If we do this," You begin. "What will happen after?"

"Whatever you want." Coriolanus spoke with want and desire.

"You mean that?" You ask sternly to make sure.

"I really do." he says before kissing you once again, a form of reassurance. He couldn't ever get enough of you.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you’re in love with me." You spoke, clearly feeling the emotion he wanted the kiss to convey.

"Well, do you?"

"Do I what?" You ask confused.

"Know better." He restates.

"Coriolanus Snow, are you in love with me?" You gasp, holding a soft grasp on his shoulders.

"You have no idea..." He whispers lowly, anguish evident in his tone.

"Fine, we can do this. But I'm in charge, okay?" You clarify.

"Whatever you want, Darling." He spreads his legs for you and leans back. You get up and align yourself with his body once again before slowly sinking down onto him, hissing at the sensation.

Curses fall from his mouth, and gratification flows through him like tidal waves. He trembles underneath you, and each time you bounce back down on his thighs, it feels better than the last. He senses his mind on the verge of collapse every time, and he starts to short circuit. Pleasure has never been so satisfying as it rakes through both your bodies as you allow each other to be safely vulnerable.

♡

It's been two days since the incident and since you and Coriolanus both talked to each other. You said you needed some time to think after Coriolanus asked you if you wanted to formally court him. You weighed the pros and cons and how you wouldn't need to work at the club anymore.

"Hey, you coming to class?" The text on your phone read.

"Yes." You replied back to him. You made up your mind on your decision and plan to convey it to him in person when you meet face to face.

You walk into class and immediately notice how anxious the ivory haired man looked. His knee was bouncing, and his hand kept raking through his hair.

"Hey," You unintentionally startle him.

"Oh! Hi." He shoots you his classic Coriolanus Snow smile, charismatic and charming as ever. "You look gorgeous."

"I just got out of bed." You laugh at his attempt at flattery.

"I still think you're pretty."

"Well, thank you, Coryo." You smile before pulling out your chair and sitting down next to him. “You look pretty, too”

You catch the way his cheeks flush, but you don't mention it.

"Have you thought about what I said?" He asks, playing with the ring on his hand in anticipation, a habit he picked up since childhood.

“I have. Coriolanus, I think you're a pretty decent guy and all." You start off your sentence.

"You don't feel the same way?" He presses his lips into a line.

"Yeah." You sigh sympathetically, noticing how he didn’t catch the inauthenticity in your tone.

"It's fine, I understand." Coriolanus gave an understanding look, no matter how disappointed he actually was. What he didn't expect was the sudden laughter that followed after.

"I'm kidding! Yes, I'll be your girlfriend!" You throw your arms around his neck and give a quick kiss to his cheek.

"You're so cruel to me." He furrows his brows, "But worth it." He smiles back at you, engulfing you into his embrace.

#coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x y/n #the hunger games #hunger games

219 notes · View notes