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literalgrill · 4 months

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Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

#video games #patreon #hard drive #ai critical

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svmjaeyvn · 26 days

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hidden love, l.hs

synopsis: there were two things that park jongseong reiterated to you growing up.

1: he was the better, funnier, smarter, awesomer sibling and always would be, and 2: you were to never, ever, fall for any guys like his friends, literally and figuratively.

the first was a lie, one you always rolled your eyes at and the second was something 12-year-old you always agreed to without hesitation. but with time, they soon both became a fib from your lips, 14-year-old you coming to the disastrous realization that boys weren't as icky as you once thought and your older brother's best friend had the prettiest smile (when he wasn't being annoying.) as you continued to grow older, those fluttering emotions grew as well, even with him heading off to university it seemed to leave you with a sense of longing, happier than ever when he'd visit.

until you were 16 and he came home with a girl, one that was far prettier than you were able to compete with in your head and nice enough to be a saint. your hopeless, devastating one-sided crush was forced to be swallowed without much pride, though it held no avail until you dramatically decided to never speak to heeseung again. and it worked, ignoring all his calls and texts, avoiding your family home like the plague whenever your brother was home for break if he was visiting, and simply acting entirely clueless in the unfortunate circumstances that you did end up caught by him, chalking it up to dramatic teenage hormones.

once you reached the age of it being your turn to head to college, you signed up for every exchange program possible, leaving you traveling the world for three years that passed with no contact and your once-upon-a-time crush nearly forgotten. that was until you came back home, finally settling to finish uni and all of a sudden you were a kid again, fawning over your brother's best friend who didn't know how to leave you alone. this time though, heeseung didn't see you as that annoying kid who followed jay around, he saw you for you which scared him so much more with how you've grown and nothing was worse than him feeling something for his best friend's off-limits little sister.

featuring: lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon, nishimura riki, kim sunoo, yang jungwon, hanni pham, kim chaweon, yoon keeho, yoon yechan

status: writing. start: 03/30/24. end: tba.

genre: non-idol!au, college/young adult!enha, heeseung x reader, slight age gap (4 years), brothers best friend trope

content & warnings: age gap??? (slightly questionable morality but no romantic feelings or grooming since they end up with no contact for years until adulthood), cursing, drinking, all that jazz, innuendos, sexual humor, suggestive content, possible smut, forbidden relationship, sneaking around, overprotective jay, jay tries to fight heeseung cause duh, crazy exs, stalker mention, slow burn since they're both in denial, heeseung kind of toxic mentality which is forced to be fix, angst but fluffy ending (?)

a/n: based off the cdrama. watched it months ago but shit had me giggling and kicking my feet even if it's cliche. heeseung is so forbbidden older love coded i had to. im trying to make this a oneshot so well see how long it is,,,,,,, the plot will develop from when they were kids to adulthood to provide some background. once the actual romance starts heeseung will be 24 and reader will be 20 (the year will be 2025). all my drafts and writing has been about jake so im branching out (i love my man tho so he'll have his moments here). anyway! lets see how long it takes me to finish up this one

word count: 6k (as of now)

taglist: closed! (86 of you have responded omg)

#enhypen #enha x reader #enha #enhypen masterlist #enhypen heeseung #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #heesung enhypen #lee heesung smut #enhypen x reader #enha fluff #enhypen smut #enha masterlist

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ozzgin · 2 months

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okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭

Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?

Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere nerd #yandere loser #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere scenarios #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #tw yandere #female reader #obsessive love

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fangswbenefits · 9 months

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Sweet Girl

Summary: Miguel isn’t all that excited about you joining spider society, so why and how does he enter a spiral of maddening obsession?

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Soft/inexperienced reader. Pining.

This is more an of an introduction to my current series Frustration. You don’t have to read the first 3 parts to enjoy this.

Miguel crossed his arms as he stood on the lowered platform.

He was waiting.

And he hated being kept waiting.

Tense minutes went by until a swirling flash of light tore through the space continuum right in front of him.

Jessica Drew stepped out first, followed closely by Peter B. Parker.

And you.

You seemed so out of it, that Miguel wondered how a spider person could have been this badly affected by a mere dimensional travel.

As you tumbled out of the portal, you immediately lurched forward. “Oh, I’m going to be sick.”

Without further warning, you emptied the content of your stomach onto the floor.

Amazing.

Arching an eyebrow, he glared at Jess who was patting your back reassuringly.

“It’s her first time, Miguel,” she frowned lightly, helping you straighten up.

Peter offered you a tissue. “Oh, I remember my first time. My intestines were not the same for a week, and I do-”

Miguel immediately cut him off, not at all interested in hearing about Peter Parker’s bowl movements. “Welcome to Nueva York,” he stepped out of the platform, extending his hand to you. “I’m Miguel O’Hara.”

You cleared your throat and shook his hand. “So… you’re the boss.”

“I’m the boss.”

Miguel saw your eyes scanning him him up and down, widening slightly. “You’re… big.”

Peter snorted and Jessica chuckled.

But he could only roll his eyes. “You’ll eventually get used to your portal jumps.”

You scanned the room with curious eyes. “That portal really needs stabilisation,” you then mumbled, adjusting your suit. “The motion sickness…”

He scoffed. “You’re a spider-woman. I’m sure you can manage motion sickness.”

“Well… it’s not the same as swinging around in your web,” you retorted with a light shrug.

Jessica patted your shoulder. “That’s why we recruited you. Your intel might be able to helps us with some of these… instabilities.”

You immediately smiled brightly. “Oh, sure! I can’t wait to get started. This place looks so cool.”

Miguel groaned inwardly. Amateurs.

He had scanned your file thoroughly and had been against your recruitment initially, but Jess had brought up valid points in your favour, despite the fact that you had only been bitten less than six months ago.

Inexperienced and ambitious.

These two hardly ever worked together, but your vast knowledge in tech compounds had made him give Jess the benefit of the doubt.

“Follow me. I’ll have to draw blood to run some tests and Lyla here will fill you in later on other procedures.”

The hologram popped in obnoxiously by your shoulder. “If he asks nicely, that is.”

Your mouth dropped open in absolute bewilderment. “Woah! AI? That is really, really awesome!”

“Thank you, pumpkin,” she grinned with a wink.

Miguel paced through the long halled that stretched out towards Lab 1, with you following close by, as Peter and Jess flanked you.

From the corner of his eye, he saw you glaring out of the tall windows, completely transfixed by the the countless skyscrapers that sprawled out as far as the eye could see.

“You built this?” your voice echoed in sheer wonder.

“Yes.”

“All of this?”

“Miguel is really gifted with technology,” Peter chimed in proudly.

“Woah…”

That tingled his ego nicely.

As the four of you walked inside the lab, the surrounding spiders at work glanced over, voicing their greetings.

“Take a seat.”

You immediately did as he said with Jessica standing next to you, hand on your shoulder.

Miguel put his gloves on and readied the material for the blood testing.

“Give me your arm.”

“So you’re a tech guy…” you started, and he gripped your forearm, rolled the sleeve of your suit up with fingers probing for a vein. “What else?”

“A geneticist.”

“Nice! So you’re like a two for one type of deal?”

Once he found what he was looking for, he aligned the tube with your skin. “This will sting a bit.”

Before you could reply, you let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“And you work at the lab, too?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?” Miguel said, waiting for the tube to fill in.

You nodded with a warm smile. “I just like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

You had no idea, but Miguel was testing you, trying to gather as much of your personality as he could. He enjoyed piecing people together like puzzles. It stroked his sense of control.

“I thought Jessica had briefed you.”

“I did,” she immediately said.

“Yet you’re the one drawing my blood,” you chirped happily, your eyes fixed on his.

Well, maybe you had an idea.

Miguel felt the corner of his lips turn into a faint smile.

Good.

He needed perceptive people around.

He pulled away from from you slightly and pressed a cotton pad to the small puncture.

Sliding open one of the drawers nearby, he grabbed a watch, never letting go of your arm.

“This is a dimensional travel watch,” he explain, snapping it snugly around your wrist. “Keep it with you at all times.”

He let go of you and you seized the moment to inspect it closer, fascination never leaving your face.

“Let me guess… you also built this,” you said with a chuckle, pressing on the screen a few times.

He reached out his hand to stop you. “This is not a toy. Lyla will inform you on how to properly use it.”

You nodded firmly.

“Welcome to spider society.”

It didn’t take long for Miguel to start walking in on you sleeping in the lab.

For the fourth time.

He was all too familiar with the riveting excitement that came with scientific progress that often led to many sleepless nights.

But he still couldn’t allow this to keep happening.

Halting a few inches away from you, he took a moment to access the situation: you sat hunched over the lab table, head resting on folded arms and a string of drool dangling from the corner of your mouth.

A heavy sigh parted his lips.

He tapped his foot once on the leg of your chair, causing you to jolt upright with a yelp, nearly falling back from the loss of balance as the chair swayed dangerously.

But Miguel was fast enough to prevent that by steadying you with a firm grip on your shoulder. You then leaned forward, panting and clutching at your chest.

“Good morning.”

You turned your head to stare at him, deep bags under your eyes and sleep lines covering your face. “Miguel! Oh — hi! I’m… oh my… that was such a scare!”

His crimson eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s the fourth time this week.”

Trying to regain some composure, you straightened your clothes and wiped the string of drool trailing down your chin with the back of your hand.

“Right. I was… uh…” you paused abruptly and looked around, as if momentarily disoriented. “Oh. Yeah! I am — was working on running some diagnostics and must have dozed off waiting for the results… and-”

He clicked his tongue and spun your chair around, effectively silencing you, his eyes boring into yours. “This isn’t going to happen again. You need to rest.”

You swallowed. “I was resting…”

Miguel didn’t have neither the patience nor the time for this.

“You need proper rest,” he pressed on with a scowl. “Jessica scouted you for a reason, and if you’re too sleep-deprived to work, you’re of no use to us.”

You broke eye contact with him, lowering your head. “I’m sorry…”

The sincerity in your voice took him slightly aback, and he relaxed his face, wondering if he had perhaps been too harsh.

You were chewing on your lip, staring down at your entwined hands.

He had no idea why, but his heart skipped a beat.

Probably stress.

“Look,” he tried again, softer this time. “I know what it’s like to want more. To do more. I’ve been there,” he then crouched, so he could eye-level with you. “But you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. We have time to figure this out.”

You looked to the side, hesitating at first. “I… was talking to other spiders and some mentioned they feel the side effects of motion sickness if they use the portal more than twice a day,” you went on with newfound confidence, gripping the pad on the table and lighting up the screen. “I’m close to getting the chips to work and ther-”

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stop. Stop.”

You did.

“What part of me saying you need to sleep didn’t you understand?”

“I don’t mind sacrificing a few nights of sleep if it means I can help other spiders,” you said, a flash of defiance crossing your eyes. “Seriously, Miguel. I need to get this done… I need it.”

Miguel’s strictness shattered.

He then saw a reflection of himself staring right at him.

So much of your determination and persistence reminded him of his early days as a scientist. The struggle, the hunger for results, the need to achieve something that could help so many…

“I know you’re looking out for me,” you went on, placing one hand on his shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze. “And I’m grateful, but science and progress don’t wait. I know I can be helpful, so let me.”

For the first time in a very long time, Miguel O’Hara was left speechless.

“Please don’t fire me,” you laughed nervously.

He blinked a couple of times and stared down at his watch.

6:14AM

“You can come back in twelve hours.”

Your eyes widened in sheer excitement, lips parting into a wide smile.

He quicky lifted one finger. “If you try to sneak in, I’ll know.”

Your smile faltered, as he saw right through your intentions.

“And I’ll have you sent back to your dimension faster than you can say Nueva York. Got it?”

You lifted one hand in a salute and nodded.

He scowled. “And… stop hanging around Hobie.”

Dropping your hand, you bolted forward from your chair to hug him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The sudden motion nearly caused him to topple over and you immediately let go of him, as he rose to his full height again.

“Oh! Sorry!” you stepped away, patting his arm apologetically.

He blinked.

Then, grabbing your pad, you began tapping rapidly. “I’m uploading all the data to your watch, so please take a look.”

He blinked again.

You gathered your backpack and threw him a final warm smile. “If you find anything important, please let me know!”

Miguel nodded curtly, but remained rooted in place, as you hurried across the lab and past the sliding door.

His heart skipped a beat for the second time that day.

Then it dawned on him: the last person who had hugged him had been Gabriella.

Miguel should probably call himself a hypocrite.

He was heavily against you or any other spider dozing off in the lab, but he had been indulging in this quite often as of late.

By the time he rose from his slumber, and sat back on his padded chair, he realised something soft had been placed around his shoulders.

He tugged on it and was met with a blanket covered in tiny prints of Peter B. Parker’s face.

This was definitely Mayday’s.

“What…” he drawled out, blinking a few times to adjust his eyes to the brightness that poured in from the windows.

The clock on the wall marked nine in the morning.

He stared down at his desk to find a handwritten note next to a plate of… empanadas?

“Hi~

wanted to wake you up, but you were sleeping so soundly and I didn’t want to disturb you. I found Mayday’s blankie on my lab desk — I suspect Hobie is sneaking her around to pull a prank on me hehe xOx

P.S. Jess told me you like empanadas, so I tried making some for you. Hope you like them~ (I’m crossing my fingers)

P.S. 2 You need proper rest :)”

You.

It had been you.

He glared at the plate containing the pastries, and grabbed one.

His heightened senses allowed him to immediately get flooded with an overwhelming delicious smell.

Taking a bite, he fluttered his eyes shut, allowing the overwhelming combination of flavours to take over.

It tasted so, so good.

It tasted like home.

He rose to his feet and walked out, scanning the lab for traces of you.

But he was met with Jessica instead who had just walked in.

“Oh, you look terrible.”

He swallowed what was left in his mouth. “Thanks.”

Her gaze dropped to your hand. “Oh! Did she make those for you?”

“Uh… yes.”

He felt ridiculous for having mumbled it like that.

The two of them paced along the corridors and into Lab 2, where you were sitting, back turned to them, visibly engrossed in your tasks.

“How’s she been doing?”

He took another bite. “Good. She’s persistent and focused. Those are good traits to have in this field.”

“She reminds me of yourself.”

Miguel wasn’t surprised in the slightest, because it was an undeniable fact.

“Hopefully, she won’t make the same mistakes I did.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll make some along the way,” she shrugged casually. “And she’ll learn from them, as you did.”

Miguel kept his gaze fixed on you and felt a strange need arise in him.

To look after you.

He took the last bite and savoured it in silence, as Jessica eyed him curiously.

“She really is a sweet girl,” she ended up saying lovingly. “She asked me what your comfort food was.”

Sweet girl.

He let the name replay in his head, and determined he liked the sound of it. It was fitting.

“Go on. Say it.”

Miguel arched an eyebrow at this. “Say what?”

Jess threw him a smug look. “That I was right for recruiting her. That you were wrong.”

In truth, Miguel hated having to admit to his mistakes, and it wasn’t even related to his ego or inability to take criticism.

As he had come to learn the hard way, his mistakes would usually lead to catastrophic consequences.

But when it came to you, he had no problem admitting he had been in the wrong. You had proved to be quite capable of handling a multitude of tasks.

… and now you were starting to grow on him.

“Yes. You were right, Jessica,” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on you. “She really is… something.”

She patted his back a few times. “Are you turning into a softie, Miguel?”

He scowled. “No.”

“Go ahead and thank her, then,” she said with a smile.

Miguel didn’t like being told what to do. He had every intention of letting you know he was grateful for your efforts.

But it had to be in his own way.

He parted ways with Jess and mad his way to you.

“Hey.”

You turned in your chair, bearing that kind smile he had grown so accustomed to. “Hi! You’re awake.”

“Cearly,” he grumbled with a shrug.

“Did you like the empanadas?”

He nodded. “They tasted amazing. Thank you.”

Like home.

“Great!” you beamed, your smile never wavering. “You looked really adorable while sleeping. Sorry for not waking you up.”

Adorable…?

He felt a lump form in his throat. Your energy was contagious, and he considered embracing it.

But he didn’t want to cave in…

He was a stubborn man by nature.

But he also didn’t want you to think he was too cold and distant like many in Nueva York thought.

“I want to show you something,” he said, tapping on his watch.

You waited expectantly and the screen in front of your flickered momentarily before a video started playing.

File: Gabriella.006

He didn’t even bother staring at the screen. He already knew by heart its content, and he didn’t want to revist the pain today.

No.

His eyes were fixed on you, instead.

He knew Lyla had already mentioned the event that led to him deciding to protect the multiverse.

He knew you knew of Gabriella.

Of what he had done.

Your smile dropped as the video went on, even though the sound of giggles and splashing water echoed around you.

“I’m not showing you this for you to feel bad for me.”

You shook your head, parting your eyes from the screen. “That didn’t even cross my mind.”

He paused the video.

“Right.”

Your eyes held kindness and your voice became softer. “I know why you’re showing this to me.”

He highly doubted it, but he waited for you to go on.

“We take care of each other here,” you began, twirling your chair to fully face bim. “And that means being open to showing vulnerabilities.”

He remained silent, digesting your words.

“Am I wrong?”

Partially, but he wouldn’t tell you that. The justification he had settled for in his head didn’t come close to your own.

And his heart skipped a beat.

He grown used to it happening whenever around you, but this time it felt more alarming.

More urgent.

“Miguel?”

You were eyeing him with concern, your hand reaching out to touch his arm.

He snapped out of his thoughts, and took a step back. “Send me the files you were working on yesterday. I need to check the coding.”

You gave him a nod, and he saw understanding soften your expression. He had expected you to press him on for an answer, but he was grateful you hadn’t.

“Oh, and… thank you, again. For… you know…” he drawled out as he ran a hand through his hair.

“You got it, Miguel,” you said, smiling sweetly.

Sweet girl.

His sweet girl.

It took Miguel one week to start dreaming about you.

At first, it would be a conglomerate of nonsensical blobs with your face or voice here and there. But as days went by, some began to take shape.

Your shape.

Nowadays, it would be your face and voice that would keep him company after tiring missions.

He had gotten quite fond of it.

Until things took a turn.

And he would wake up with a throbbing ache in between his legs, begging for relief.

That was when he knew he was letting his admiration for you get the best of him.

As he rose from his bed and walked to the tall window in his bedroom, he saw the sun lighting up the horizon line, bathing Nueva York in rays of orange and yellow.

He had built all of this in the hopes of a better future.

But now he started longing for one that had you in it somehow.

As a fellow spider.

A fellow scientist.

A friend, even.

He squinted as his sensitive eyes became increasingly sore from the intense light, so he moved to his bedside table and grabbed the peace of paper you had left him days ago.

Your handwriting mirrored your personality: graceful and captivating.

Maybe he should have tossed it away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

Walking into his living room, he booted up the screens on the wall.

There was this crescendo inside him that urged him to look for you.

He tapped through various sections of the lan, but he found you near the refrigeration area, tapping on your chin with a pencil, as you glared at the screens in front of you.

He wanted to call you.

To hear your voice first thing in the morning.

To commend you for being up so early already and committing to your duties.

Suddenly, he saw your lips turn into a soft knowing smile, and he knew you must have figured something out.

Of course you had.

Your perception and tenacity were unmatched.

As much as he wanted to talk to you, he decided against it.

In his mind, he was too undeserving of anything more than a friendship with you.

He convinced himself that he was not good enough, and that he was meant to watch you from afar.

You were just like a flame. Too close and it burns. Too far away and it freezes.

He grazed his thumb across the screen, close to you.

His sweet, sweet girl.

It would be better off this way. Not for him, of course. He was already in too deep. But it would be better for you.

You deserved better.

But he still craved you.

Miguel recognised the feeling that was started to seep into his heart and mind. He had almost forgotten how suffocating that felt.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from your face.

He couldn’t tear his heart from your hold.

The level of despair was unmistakable and he knew exactly what this feeling was.

Frustration.

Next part (if you can’t access it, click here)

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099

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beesarekindaswag · 4 months

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Prompt : The Mean Girls of Wayne Enterprises

Hear me out…. Mean Girls but make it DCxDP.

The public personas that the bats present, modeled after “Brucie” Wayne are the perfect templates for Mean Girls shenanigans.

Imagine : Our favourite ghost boy has decided to venture out into the world after making sure that Amity would be safe and secure (perks of being the recently crowned King). Danny knows he’d never pass the physical tests to be an astronaut but that doesn’t mean he can’t at least achieve part of his space dream. He’d done his research, very thoroughly at that, and overall it was Wayne Enterprises that came out on top. Their aerospace department was miles ahead of the competition - presumably something to do with Bruce Wayne literally being the one funding the Justice League (and if rumour is to be believed, the OG sugar daddy for a certain Bat).

Disregarding Danny’s personal feelings about the JL, the chance to create technology that will be used in SPACE, for space exploration and understanding was too good to pass up.

Just the thought alone filled him with a sense of contentment. Thankyou space obsession.

Which is what had lead to the current situation - an internship at Wayne Enterprises itself. How he landed it, he has no clue - sure, he’s got some smarts (much more than he’ll give himself credit for) but his grades had suffered from his years of literally saving the city (and by extension, the world). Perhaps it was fate? Or more likely, a meddling time god…

Danny wasn’t complaining though.

Only three hours in to the position and he was barely containing his excitement - literally, the fulfillment of his secondary obsession, regardless of how second hand it might be, created such a buzz in his core. He was having to consciously stop his more ghostly attributes from shining through - not even metaphorically shining, damn you LED freckles (yes we’re using the concept of Danny’s ghost from reflecting his love of space - constellation freckles and all)

Now though, he had been released to break in the cafeteria. There was a panicked moment of ‘oh shit, where do I sit?’ But thankfully, his (half) life was saved by one of his new coworkers calling him over with a friendly wave.

“Hey, Daniel, right?”

“I go by Danny but yeah, thanks for the save there” a awkward laugh at his own words, “didn’t expect it to feel like high school all over again”

There’s polite laughter amongst the table and the conversation flows over to casual small talk. At least, it does until out of nowhere, all eyes jump to the doors.

Enter : The Plastics.

Richard Grayson - the dumbest guy you’ll ever meet.

“Once, he asked me why aster isn’t the opposite of disaster”

Timothy Drake - knows everything about everyone.

“That’s why his eyebags are so big - they’re full of secrets”

And the queen bee, Damian Wayne.

“Once he called me an uncultured swine… it was awesome”

(I don’t know what’s better - Damian aged up to match Danny or tiny Damian being Regina)

What follows is a comedic story: Danny meeting the three, them assuming he’s going to be out of touch being from the Midwest (he is but only in the sense that his version of normal is Fenton dumbfuckery) , him eventually getting past their public personas by just not giving a shit for their drama - he grew up with the QUEEN of mean girls, the Wayne boys have nothing on Paulina Sanchez.

Just, Mean girls Waynes… that’s it - that’s the post.

#dpxdc #funny #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #space core danny #batpham #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #mean girls #danny is just happy to work with space tech #he doesn’t care for the drama #let the boy do his space stuff

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godslino · 2 months

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GUTTER BALL | changbin first date series. one night stand to lovers.

pairing: changbin x fem!reader word count: 5.2k genre: non idol au, fluff warnings: implied sexual content, swearing, mentions of drinking summary: a one night stand with changbin ends in pancakes and the promise of a date. the rest is history.

a/n: finally! the changbin chapter! i just want to take a second to say THANK YOU for all the support you guys have given this series so far. reading everyone's comments is genuinely the highlight of my day and i'm so happy you're all enjoying it. please remember that both my taglist and my requests are open, so don't be shy. once again, any and all feedback is appreciated. you guys are awesome, happy reading <3

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that this is not your room.

Blackout curtains, a lamp on the bedside table painting the walls in a warm glow, navy blue sheets that are pulled over your bare chest and—oh.

Oh.

“Fuck,” you mutter, throwing your arm over your eyes, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Everything comes flooding back in an instant: the bar, dark curly hair, one too many drinks, a voice low in your ear, stumbling through his apartment door, the most ripped arms you’ve ever seen, and that tongue—

The sound of a door unlocking shakes you from your thoughts, followed by shoes being kicked off as you scramble to sit up and hug the sheet tighter around your body.

What was his name—Changbin? Changbin. That sounds right. At least from the memories you have where it was coming out in strangled moans from your throat. Which is dry, by the way, undoubtedly from the amount of alcohol and the…strain it was put through.

You don’t really have time to unpack that particular part of last night’s events when there’s a knock at the door—funny, because this is his room.

Flattening your back against the headboard, you clear your throat as best you can, “Come in.”

When it opens, Changbin’s head pops through, tufts of his hair sticking out from under a baseball cap. “Hey,” he says softly before stepping all the way in. He takes one look at you, your hands holding the bedsheet in a death grip, and wordlessly walks over to his dresser.

“I bought food,” he says with his back turned, pulling out a sweatshirt. He pulls out a few sweatpants too, shuffles through them until he finds some with a drawstring, and then turns back around to face you with the clothes held in his hand.

He looks…apologetic? Nervous? Really, really cute? That’s not a question, actually. He is cute.

You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’re seeing him in better lighting for the first time, or maybe because you’re sober, or maybe because the only other image you have of him is when he’s hovering over your body and making you see stars, but you can’t help the little fluttering feeling that starts in your chest when he gives you a small smile.

“Your dress is kind of…I, uh…it’s ripped.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at the same time you feel heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh,” is all you can say as you desperately try to remember that part of the night. Hands are all you see, big and strong, and you silently let your gaze fall to them as he moves forward to place the clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, “You can have these. They should fit you, and I don’t mind losing them. Consider it my reimbursement for ruining your dress.”

You lean forward slowly, still holding the blanket to your chest, and Changbin has to stop himself from staring at the exposed skin of your shoulder when your hair falls forward in the process. “These are—” your eyes go wide, “Balenciaga?!”

He blinks like you didn’t just name drop a brand that sells singular articles of clothing for double your paycheck. “Yeah?”

“I can’t take this.”

“Why not?”

“This costs more than me,” you say incredulously.

He moves to argue, but then a slow grin starts to spread across his face. He tones it down, minimizes it to a single upturn of the left side of his mouth. “I mean, you don’t have to wear anything. I don’t mind either way.” Changbin smirks, and you narrow your eyes.

“However,” he continues, “I would really, really like to see you in my clothes.”

🎳

“He gave you a what hoodie?” Felix’s voice is distant on the other end of the line. The clicking of his keyboard stops, there’s a rustle, and then suddenly his mouth is a lot closer to the speaker than it’d previously been.

Changbin’s en suite is huge, just like his bedroom. Once he slipped out to give you privacy, claiming he was going to set up the food, you’d allowed yourself to fully take in your surroundings. A california king sized bed, a walk in closet, an attached bathroom with a balcony.

You sigh, leaning back against the marble sink. Changbin’s sweats sit low on your hips, his hoodie all but swallowing your figure into the material.

“That’s not the point, Felix. Were you even listening to me? An entire five minute monologue about how I’m in his house and all you care about is the Balenciaga?”

“Does he have any, like, really hot friends?”

“Felix.”

“Wait. Is he really hot?”

“Felix!” you bring a hand to your forehead, using your thumb and middle finger to rub at the spots just above your eyebrows. “You’re not helping here.”

“Okay,” Felix says, his voice low, “It’s just that I’m having an issue seeing what the problem is.” You pinch the bridge of your nose to fight the oncoming headache as Felix rambles on.

“This guy brought you back to his place, rocked your world, and then what? Cuddled you? Bought you breakfast? Gave you his clothes that are worth more than my car and is now waiting for you to come out of his bathroom and enjoy a nice meal? And that’s bad because…?”

“You know what? I’m hanging up.”

“The hell you are! I left my fucking fortnite match for this! You’d better go out there and—” You slam your phone down on the bathroom counter, the sound echoing. If Felix wasn’t going to validate your very unnecessary nerves, then so be it.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, unfamiliar with the person looking back. It’s a little jarring, the sight of you in someone else’s clothes. A man’s clothes, no less.

It’s been a long time since you’ve had anything close to this sort of…intimacy. Hookups are normal for you, sure. But the mornings after are usually never more than a hurried goodbye as you gather your things and haul ass out the door. Most of the time you don’t even stay, sobered up enough after your post-coital state to slip out into the night and call an uber.

Your memory had come back in full as you were slipping Changbin’s clothes on once he left the room. The sex was great—amazing even. But afterwards, when he turned over and slipped an arm around your waist and hooked his chin on your shoulder was what really scared you.

Okay, maybe scared is an exaggeration. You aren’t scared, it’s just been a while. So what if you don’t crave male validation? Sex is the fun part anyways. Dating doesn’t necessarily go well for you, and feelings are definitely off the table when it comes to hookups. Because that’s all it is: a hookup. Changbin is no different.

You give yourself a total of thirty more seconds before braving a step out into the hallway, sheepishly peeking around the corner.

The apartment is unsurprisingly huge as well: a high ceiling, intricate marble flooring, a chandelier hung in the center of the living room that reflects the sunlight coming in from the floor-to-wall windows on the opposite side.

“Woah,” you say to no one in particular, walking into the dining room area, “This place is intense.”

Changbin looks up from his phone. His hat is off now, a mop of curls sit messily on his head, thick-rimmed glasses are situated at the tip of his nose, his arms—straining against the fabric of his black t-shirt—rest heavily on the table. You watch as he lets his eyes travel the length of you, painfully slow, something unreadable behind them.

“Food’s ready,” is all he says with a smile.

You sit down across from him, eyes wide. It’s like he bought out the entirety of an IHOP while you were asleep. There’s pancakes and waffles, hash browns and toast, an assortment of fruit, two different omelets, two cups of coffee, and at least five different types of syrup options.

“Are we…” you trail off, meeting his expectant gaze, “…expecting other people?”

Changbin nervously scratches his chin. “No, uh, I just—I didn’t know what you liked. And you were sleeping, so…yeah. I tried to cover all the bases.”

When you don’t respond, your eyes transfixed on him, he clears his throat. “Please eat,” he says, extending a hand to gesture at the food, “Let me know if there’s anything else you want.”

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing a fork. Changbin waits until he’s certain you don’t immediately hate it and then starts to eat, too.

It’s quiet, comfortable, sounds of cutlery clinking against plates are the only thing filling the silence as the two of you try to soothe your hangovers with full stomachs. You steal glances at him throughout, watch the way his lips pout when he chews, and then shyly look back down at your plate when he catches you staring. It’s kind of sweet, the idea that he did all this despite only having met you twelve hours ago.

It should be more awkward, too. You’re going to have to talk at some point. There’s an elephant in the room that’s shaped a lot like post-nut clarity mixed with morning-after regret and neither of you are making a move to address it.

“So um, about last night…” Changbin starts a few minutes later. He looks nervous, like he doesn’t know how to vocalize what he plans on saying next.

You nod, putting your fork down. This was to be expected. “I’ll be out as soon as I’m done eating, don’t worry.” Changbin’s head snaps in your direction. “It was really nice of you to get food and stuff, so thank you. I can put my dress back on too so that way I don’t have to take—”

“What?” Changbin furrows his eyebrows, “No. Wait. I’m not kicking you out, Jesus.”

You blink. “You’re not?”

“Of course not.” He stills. “Is that how these things usually go for you?”

Well that isn’t exactly a question you planned on answering. What are you supposed to say? Yeah haha I actually just kind of leave before they have a chance to come back from the bathroom?

“I mean, is that not how it goes for you?”

The blush that spreads across Changbin’s cheeks is hard to ignore. “I don’t—uh…I don’t do this.”

“You don’t buy girls breakfast after you sleep with them?”

“No I don’t—I don’t bring girls home.” He admits.

Oh.

“So I’m…?” The first, you want to ask.

“Yeah.”

Oh.

You’ve never been in this situation before. Apparently that’s Changbin’s specialty: helping you experience things that you normally wouldn’t.

“Listen,” he starts again, licking his lips. His leg is bouncing nervously, visible through the glass table. “I didn’t intend to sleep with you last night. Not because I didn’t want to! Fuck, I—I wanted to. And it was…God, it was amazing. But I feel kind of bad, because everything is out of order and I don’t want it to seem like I’m only trying to ask you now just because I want to get in your pants again or something but like—”

“Changbin,” you cut him off, “Breathe. You don’t—whatever it is you want to say, you can say it.”

He visibly relaxes as soon as his name comes out of your mouth.

“Can I take you on a date?”

There’s a long silence that follows, one that makes you question whether or not he actually said what you think he did. It feels a little surreal, not just the situation but Changbin himself. You went into this blind, completely void of any expectations, but somehow came out of it with—

“A…date?” you ask hesitantly.

“A date.” He repeats, more confident this time. “A real one. Not just a hookup. I mean, I thought you were beautiful—still do! That’s why I approached you at first. I wasn’t expecting to come back here but we were both drinking and then one thing lead to another and your face was so close and I—”

“Okay.” You say, stabbing at a piece of pancake with your fork.

“Okay?” Changbin asks, blinking at you like he didn’t hear correctly.

“I mean,” you swallow your food, “Typically I’d say you’re just trying to sleep with me, because what guy does all of this for a girl he knows literally nothing about?” Changbin nods in understanding. “But we’re kind of past that, aren’t we? So clearly you don’t have any other motives.”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No. Nope. Definitely don’t.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, to which he visibly pales. “Wait, not like that. I just mean that I’m motivated by the fact that you’re beautiful and I want to get to know you not…anything else.”

When you laugh it’s soft, no more than a few heavy exhales out of your nose. Changbin wishes he could hear it more, could get you to open up to him. “I’m not too sure there’s much you’d want to know.” You admit.

“Well that’s for me to decide, isn’t it?”

His tone is different now, much more confident. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s more at ease with the conversation, or maybe it’s because he wants to prove you wrong. Either way, it makes anticipation stir deep in your gut. Changbin is different, a good different.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.”

“So it’s a date?” He picks up a piece of watermelon with his fork, holds it out to you in some sort of a toast.

“Depends,” you poke another piece of your pancakes and let it hover in front of your face, “Are you gonna buy more of these?”

“I could make that happen.” He smiles, and for the first time you let yourself get lost in it.

“Then yeah,” you push your hand forward, clinking the sides of your forks together, “It’s a date.”

🎳

changbin [8:30am]

for you 🥞

you [8:31am]

are you going to do this every day?

changbin [8:31am]

absolutely

what kind of a man would that make me if i didn’t deliver your pancakes in the morning?

you [8:34am]

a normal one

changbin [8:34am]

sounds boring

do you want syrup with those?

🎳

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Felix says, leaning against the doorframe. He watches as you adjust your hair in the mirror, a wary look on his face from where you can see his reflection over your shoulder.

It’s been two weeks since you and Changbin hooked up. You’ve texted nonstop since then, most of it just casual conversation. It’s kind of nice; you get to hear about his day, what songs he’s currently listening to, and find out that he’s one hundred percent committed to the pancake bit. You let him know more about yourself too: your job, your annoying coworkers, which one of your comfort shows you’re rewatching for the fourth time. Changbin makes it a point to text you every morning and every night. You open your eyes to a pancake delivery and then close them after answering the question of: What type of pancakes do you want tomorrow?

Today, it was blueberry. Because today is the day you’re finally going on your date—and because Changbin’s sheets (that you haven’t stopped thinking about for some reason) are blue.

“What’s there to not believe, Lix?” you ask, turning to face him.

“I’m just worried.” He says, walking forward to place both hands on your shoulders. His face is serious, eyebrows pulled together slightly in that concerned look you know too well. Felix has seen firsthand what your last relationship did to you, spent nights with you tucked under his arm as you cried it out and he shoveled ice cream into your mouth. So yeah, he has the room to be worried.

“What if you mess up and I lose my chance to be his friend so he can give me a Balenciaga hoodie?”

Record scratch. Freeze frame. Whatever the hell happens in the tv shows. You shove his arms away with a scoff, rolling your eyes when he stumbles to the side as he laughs.

“You are so annoying.”

“And you better not ruin my chances of getting with one of his producer friends!” Felix calls out as you walk towards the living room. “I saw a cute one on his instagram. Don’t know his name—there was no tag, but oh my God, I love his nose.”

“You went through his socials?” you ask in disbelief, staring at him as he bends down to rummage through the fridge.

“Uh, yeah? Had to make sure he wasn’t some sort of weirdo that could possibly turn out to be a serial killer. Please, I’m not that bad of a best friend.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” You smile, laughing at the pout he shoots your way.

Changbin’s got his hands in his pockets when you swing the door open. His hair is even fluffier than you remember, a white t-shirt hugging his chest perfectly beneath his jacket and—the glasses. The damn glasses. Your stomach starts churning at the sight, the smallest of cracks in your reserve starting to form.

“You’re early,” you say, giving him a questioning look.

Changbin shrugs. “I was excited.”

“Sweet talking to me isn't gonna work, you know?”

“I don’t have a reason to sweet talk, I’m just being honest.” Changbin’s teeth are white when he flashes them, bright and sincere. He makes talking so easy, like he’s practiced it a thousand times. You like that.

“Well,” you clear your throat, “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Changbin grins, grabbing your hand and leading you down towards his car.

🎳

Changbin, as you come to find out, is full of surprises.

First, he’s ridiculously good at driving. One hand on the wheel, the other mindlessly playing with yours where his hand rests on top of your thigh. The way he maneuvers the car is, well, it’s hot. It’s also really hard to focus your attention anywhere but his hands, especially when you know what they can do.

Second, he’s really, really silly. Most of the usual small talk made on a first date was done over text since it took so long to find a day that both of you were free, but that just made it so falling into step beside one another was that much easier.

Changbin isn’t afraid to sing along with whatever song is on the radio. In fact, he’s actually really good at singing. Well, when he’s not forcing the dramatics and belting at the top of his lungs while he pretends to romantically serenade you in the passenger’s seat. You can’t help but giggle, swatting his hand away when he makes exaggerated gestures in your direction during certain high notes.

Third, he makes your heart flutter. And not just the usual Oh you’re cute kind. No. Changbin makes your heart feel like it’s going to melt into the floor, all of your senses hyper aware of every part of him, wanting and craving more even when he’s right next to you.

He makes you laugh at unexpected times, encourages you to keep speaking if you ramble on for too long about something completely random, and his smile—oh man. Maybe Felix was right to be worried. Not about you messing up, but about you being absolutely head over heels for this guy.

By the time Changbin pulls into an empty parking spot, the two of you have settled into a natural back and forth that has your head reeling with how much fun it is.

“A bowling alley?” you ask, turning to him. Changbin turns the car off, stares at you in expectation. “You spent, like, five minutes telling me that you were taking me to the one place you feel most at home and it’s a bowling alley?”

“Woah, hold on. Are you mocking me?” Changbin smiles again, and suddenly nothing else matters.

“No I’m just—I feel bad.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Bad? Why?”

“I’m gonna, like, kick your ass at this. You know that right?” You say, chuckling.

Changbin stares at you for a moment, and then he’s laughing. A high pitched, steady trill of laughter that sends you into your own fit of giggles just from the residual joy that’s oozing out of him.

Once he’s composed himself enough, he points a finger in your direction, “Oh you are so on.”

The alley is pretty empty, the only other bowlers being at a far lane at the end of the building. Changbin takes the liberty of paying and grabbing both of your shoes, and you silently follow behind him as he leads you to your assigned lane.

“Weight?” he asks, tying his laces.

You glance up from your own shoes, watching as he shucks off his jacket. His arms flex nicely under the material of his shirt, straining against the fabric as he ties a knot.

“Huh?” you ask, not entirely present.

Changbin stands, smirks slightly. “What ball weight do you use?”

“Oh, uh, an eight please.”

He nods and disappears off towards the racks of balls, leaving you alone to scold yourself.

“Christ. Get a grip.” You mumble, smacking your forehead lightly with the palm of your hand.

It’s been a while since you bowled. When you were younger, your dad used to take you every once in a while and marvel at how good you were. That was a long time ago, when you had the time to enjoy things rather than work nonstop to keep yourself afloat. It’s kind of bittersweet being back in an alley, different circumstances but still the same familiarity.

Changbin comes back with two balls in his hands and places them on the ball rack. He glances over to where you’re keying in the names, smiling softly when he notices that you put him down as BIN.

“Ready to have all of your hopes and dreams crushed?” you ask, knocking your shoulder with his.

Changbin fakes a stumble, rubs his arm like you full on punched him. “Oh God, I don’t think I can play now.”

“Nice try sweetheart,” you scoff, picking up your ball just as the screen signals for the game to start, “Watch and learn.”

You move up to the beginning of the lane, trying to ignore the way Changbin whistles playfully when you do. The ball fits perfectly in your hand, round and smooth. One deep breath, you pull your arm back, slowly walk forward, and bend at just the right moment to send it off with a thud as it hits the lane. You watch with your breath held, hope that you’re able to prove you’re not all talk, and smile proudly when the ball goes crashing through the center pin, knocking them all out.

Changbin’s jaw is on the floor when you turn around. “Your turn, hot shot.” You say sweetly, patting his shoulder as you plop down in the seat next to him.

He clears his throat. “Alright.” He grunts, stretching his arms for dramatic effect. He lets out a loud yell, one of those Hoo! noises that people make before they’re about to do something crazy.

As he lines up to go, he turns, kisses his hand and blows it in your direction. “This one’s for you!” He shouts, winking when you hide your face in your hands out of embarrassment.

You watch as he rolls it forward, leans his body to the left when it curves way too far to the right, and then your hand is flying to your mouth to stifle your laughter when the neon pink ball goes straight into the gutter.

“Ah!” He screams, throwing his hands up and behind his head. He whirls around, points an accusatory finger in your direction, “You did this!”

“Me? What’d I do?”

“You distracted me!”

“I did not!

“How am I supposed to focus when the most beautiful girl in the world is watching me?”

“I—” you scoff, fighting the blush on your cheeks as Changbin walks toward you with a shit-eating grin, “Shut up. Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He crouches in front of you, trying to catch your eyes when you avert his gaze.

“Stop sweet talking. That’s a violation of the game rules. Cheating. You’re trying to distract me.”

“Trying to distract you or trying to get you to fall head over heels for me?”

You blink, “You don’t have to try and do that.”

Changbin searches your eyes for a long while, like he’s trying to decipher whether or not you’re being sincere. It looks on his face is one of disbelief, like it’s hard for him to be convinced that you reciprocate any of what he feels.

“Now who’s sweet talking?” He laughs.

“I’m not sweet talking, I’m just being honest.”

“That’s my line!”

“Well,” you say, standing to take your turn, “I wasn’t gonna steal your bad bowling skills was I?”

The game continues on after that. Changbin somehow manages to score three more gutterballs until you decide to take pity on him.

“Here, like this,” you say, walking up behind him. Changbin freezes when you press yourself up against his back, your hand steady on his forearm as you adjust his positioning.

“This is a little—”

“What? Don’t like it?” You giggle.

He clears his throat, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

When he sends the ball straight into the middle of the pins, earning his first strike of the night, he can barely contain his excitement as he yells, picking you up and spinning you around while you laugh and throw your arms around his neck.

It feels like floating, being with Changbin. He’s goofy and sweet and he knows exactly how to push your buttons all while making you feel as though you’re the only girl in the world. His smile is as bright as the sun and the way his eyes lock on to yours at any given point in time have you wishing you could lose yourself in them forever.

🎳

In the end, you win. It’s not a surprise to either of you, but Changbin couldn’t be bothered to care less. It doesn’t matter to him, not when he feels like he’s won the lottery every time you smile in his direction. And if that wasn’t enough, when you silently slip your hand into his as the two of you walk back to the car, he swears that he’s the richest man alive.

The feeling is mutual for you, too. Changbin has a way of making you feel like nothing else exists, not when he’s grinning at you from ear to ear and making you laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He’s unprecedented, a stroke of good luck, someone who came into your life when you least expected it.

Changbin, to you, is uncharted territory. He laughs loud and smiles unabashedly. If there’s a lull in conversation he’s not afraid to fill it with one of his many noises or silly dances. He says what he thinks and doesn’t care if it’s too cheesy or makes your cheeks turn just a shade darker with embarrassment.

Changbin is consistent; the first guy that hasn’t thrown you for a loop when it comes to figuring out who he is and what he likes. Changbin is someone you could see yourself falling in love with, one terrible pick up line at a time.

“So…” he says as soon as he walks you to your front door, “I had fun.”

You laugh, glancing down at where he has your pinkies linked on both hands. He’s so cute, everything about him. Changbin, Changbin, Changbin.

“Mmhm, it was really fun teaching you how to bowl.”

Changbin groans, leans his head against your front door. “I was under pressure.”

“That’s okay, I thought it was cute.”

“Hm. Does that mean I didn’t ruin my chances at a second date?”

“Depends,” you say, moving your hands up to clasp behind his neck. Changbin’s immediately fall to your waist, almost like second nature. Right, right, right. Everything feels right. “You could come inside and show me if it’s worth it or not.”

“Jesus,” he mumbles, “Don’t do that. You’re gonna drive me crazy.”

Changbin’s words are slow, each one more breathless than the last. It’s almost intoxicating.

“Maybe I want that.”

“Good,” he whispers, leaning down to brush his nose against yours in silent question, “Because I’ve been crazy about you since the moment I first saw you.”

When his lips finally connect with yours, you’re thankful for the grip he has on your waist that prevents you from stumbling. Sweet like the syrup he bought for you that first morning, kissing Changbin is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not hurried or messy; it’s not done with the intent of something more to be given. It’s slow, purposeful, Changbin takes his time like he’s worried if he doesn’t you might break right beneath his fingertips.

He hums softly when you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulls you closer until you’re flush against him. Chest to chest, heart to heart—Changbin holds you like he never wants to let go.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are glossy, shining with adoration. You could get used to that.

“So you don’t want to come inside?” You ask again, smiling when he bites his lip.

“Not tonight babe, it’s only the first date. I don’t put out like that.”

You scoff. “Yeah? Well you definitely put something somewhere when I was—”

Changbin cuts you off with a palm over your mouth. “What kind of pancakes do you want tomorrow?” He laughs.

“Mmrrnnf.” You say, muffled his hand. When he removes it, you push your lip out into a pout. “I don’t want pancakes—just want you.”

Changbin closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then lets his forehead fall against yours. “You’re making it really, really hard to hold myself back right now.”

You giggle, jutting your lips forward to give him a quick kiss. “Good, it’s working.”

He sighs. “Second date, and then maybe we can talk about…other things. But right now, I just want you to enjoy this. Let yourself settle with the fact that I really, really like you. This wasn’t just a one night stand for me, nor did I ever want it to be.” He plants a kiss on your nose, “I’m kind of, like, crazy about you.”

“Me too,” you say quietly, “About all of it. I want to keep seeing you, Bin. I want to see where this goes.”

Changbin beams. “Good.” He leans down to kiss you one last time, nothing more than a press of his lips to yours, but it’s more full of emotion than the last.

When he pulls away and starts walking backwards to head back down to his car, he feels like he’s on top of the world.

“I’ll text you in the morning?”

You nod. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Good,” he says with a wink, “The pancakes are on me.”

There’s a tug in your chest at his words. It’s crazy how something so small, something so simple can make you feel so strongly for someone. But you guess that Changbin is just like that.

And when you open the door, Felix’s entire body falling over the threshold from where he was leaning against it, you can’t even be bothered to get mad.

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie @drhsthl @shays-library @giuliadesu @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @snowyquokka @caitxx1 @skzstarnet] **colored tags indicate my inability to link your account. this could be due to an error when you filled out the google form or you do not have tags on.

#changbin x reader #skzstarnet #changbin fluff #changbin smut #changbin angst #changbin scenarios #changbin imagines #changbin au #changbin one shot #changbin fanfic #changbin fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #skz x reader #first date series #first date series : gutter ball

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breadbrobin · 3 months

Note

So i saw of a guy getting lipstick kisses on him and im just obssessed with it. I want it with Luke but maybe we could have Luke put our lipstick on to mark us with kisses? Thanks for the lovely Luke fics ;3

revenge is best served red

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!reader, from any cabin]

summary: little pranks are a great way to keep a relationship fun, and if they involve lipstick? well, neither of you are going to complain too much.

warnings: kissing, reader wears makeup (lipstick mostly stated), slightly suggestive content

word count: 786

(hiiii!! i love this request it’s so cute! thank you for the awesome request, i hope you like it!)

——————————————

one thing new campers often noticed about luke castellan were the lipstick stains on his collar and skin and the silver bracelet on his wrist, both a perfect match to your lips and your own wrist. he wore both with pride, always one to wear his heart on his sleeve and, well, your lipstick on his shirts.

you’d never tried to hide your relationship. how could you, after all, when luke stumbled out from behind your cabin with lipstick marks all over his face and you followed him not long later, makeup smudged and hair messy? that was a pretty good giveaway that you were together.

luke had always liked revenge. good, cold, sweet revenge. but you had never been a target. nope. never.

until he drew a heart with an ‘L’ in it on your cheek while you slept one night, and you went around camp as usual for three hours before you realised it was there. then all bets were off.

you wore your brightest, boldest lip looks, pressing kisses to his cheeks, to his hands to the corner of his mouth. he wore them with pride.

“you’re never embarrassed,” you’d whined to him one day.

he’d wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, smiling. “i’d never be embarrassed by you. how could i be?”

that had been enough for you to shut him up with more deep red kisses for a while.

revenge came to you one day though. cold and sweet.

you went simple. and cold. definitely cold.

a bucket of ice was tipped over luke just before he was set to start training, courtesy of you, of course. what you hadn’t expected, was getting chased by a soaked, cold, luke, and hugged tightly as the ice permeated through your clothes too. regardless, he admitted that you’d got him, and finally, you could relax. pranks had never been your strong suit anyway.

as time went on, all of that took a backseat. more than anything else, you were just… happy.

luke was, first and foremost, a picture perfect boyfriend. always opening doors for you, pressing kisses to your cheeks and lips, carrying your bags and always respecting you. but he was so annoying sometimes.

like now, as he sat on your with your makeup bag in front of him, tipped out onto your sheets.

you were sitting on the floor with a colouring book as he sorted through your products, studying some of them and swatching them on his hand and wrist. you weren’t quite sure was he was doing—you had your back to him—but whatever it was was making you slightly nervous. he hummed every now and then, either in confusion or satisfaction, you weren’t quite sure. that was the only thing that broke up the silence in the otherwise empty cabin.

“hey, babe,” he said suddenly.

“yeah?” you didn’t look back at him.

“what colour lipstick do you think would suit me best?”

you frowned and turned around, then covered your mouth with a giggle. “oh my gods.”

luke’s lips were painted in a deep red, messy and over-lined more than kylie jenner. he was smiling goofily. “what?”

“you look like the joker. and not the cool one.” you giggled, hand still over your mouth.

“so not this colour?” he grinned.

you shook your head, lowering your hand with a laugh. “no, not that colour.”

“hm…” he looked in a handheld mirror and pouted dramatically. “guess i’ve got to take this off then.”

you were about to reach for your makeup wipes when his lips landed on yours. you were confused for a moment, before you couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss as the lipstick rubbed off onto your lips and face.

he pulled away and smiled. “i see why you like doing that.”

“like doing what?” you asked breathlessly.

his thumb smeared the lipstick just below your lips slowly. “making such a mess.”

he kissed you again, slowly guiding you up and pushing your makeup aside so you were on your bed with him, then pushing you down gently so you were lying below him.

he peppered lipsticked kisses all over your face, eliciting giggles from you, and, when he finally pulled back, your face was more red and pink than anything else. he smiled down at you, his hand resting on your waist as he shifted his weight to the side. “yeah. i get it now.”

“i hate you.” you teased.

“yeah, i hate you too. but revenge is sweet. at least i’m not freezing you right now.” he grinned, his lips meeting yours again as you both laughed. you didn’t even mind that he was wasting your lipstick. with luke, nothing was a waste.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell

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starsainzjr · 3 months

Text

Study Abroad

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x university student!reader Faceclaim: None

A/N: inspired by me very very much wanting to study abroad

✷✷✷✷✷

yourusername posted a story

yourusername Berlin, Germany

Liked by ybfusername and 182 others

yourusername Spring 2024 starts now

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ybfusername I'll be waiting for the "you were right" text

yourusername It's not gonna come ybfusername Sure. That's what they all say

yourusername posted a story

mickschumacher Berlin, Germany

Liked by mercedesamgf1, logansargeant, alex_albon and 415,936 others

mickschumacher Home 🇩🇪

View all 12,861 comments

mercedesamgf1 See you soon!

mickschumacher Counting down the days! 4️⃣4️⃣

logansargeant When am I getting the tour?

mickschumacher When you provide me with tickets to a Dolphins game logansargeant Ooh this'll be fun

micks47 His ability to switch from golden retreiver to... that will never not astound me

mercedesgirl63 Is this man taken? Asking for a friend

shoemaker477 I'm crying, he's literally not doing anything and he's making me emotional

yourusername posted a story

humboldt.uni Humboldt-Universität

Liked by yourusername, mickschumacher and 10,863 others

humboldt.uni Huge thank you to today's guest lecturer, Mick Schumacher! Mick spoke to a group of students, including study abroad students coming from all corners of the globe, about following their dreams and becoming successful.

Our guest lecturer series continues this semester with more surprise guests!

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yourusername posted a story

yourusername Berlin, Germany

Liked by ybfusername and 186 others

yourusername Current events

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ybfusername I still can't believe you hate me

yourusername I do not hate you ybfusername If you loved me you'd show me who the guy is yourusername I'm not gonna come back. I'm just gonna stay in Germany ybfusername I'll follow you, bitch don't think I won't

mickschumacher

Liked by yourusername, logansargeant, alex_albon and 421,936 others

mickschumacher Last few days have been incredible, and would not be possible without @/yourusername by my side. So grateful to have you with me Liebling

View all 8,927 comments

yourusername My rock ❤️

mickschumacher Can't wait to do great things together

logansargeant Oh okay, I'm the only single one now. Awesome

yourusername I have a friend, it'll be okay Logan ybfusername Hi, I'm the friend

alex_albon Lily just punched me so hard

lilymhe I HAVE A NEW FRIEND EXCUSE ME IF I'M EXCITED

mercedesgirl63 GOD

shoemaker477 He is such a golden retriever boyfriend oh my god I can't wait for this content

micks47 Hate to break it to you bestie but she has a private account micks47 And like 400 followers shoemaker477 Somehow that makes all this even more adorable. That he didn't go for some actress or singer or model and someone normal

✷✷✷✷✷

All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher social media au #mick schumacher fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x you #social media au

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proxima-writes · 11 months

Note

I’d like to request a boyfriends dad fic where reader is on vacation with their family and Joel gets handsy with her but she convinces herself it’s okay. Then when her boyfriends ditches her Joel fucks her. Bonus points if boyfriend comes back super drunk while Joel is fucking reader and Joel just puts his hand over her mouth and continues fucjing her and bf passes by them but doesn’t notice 🤷🏻‍♀️

Just some thots…if it inspires you a fic/Drabble would be awesome

I may have....gotten carried away with this one.

title: karma is my boyfriend's dad

pairing: boyfriend's dad!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6588

summary:

Your boyfriend, Sean Miller, is an asshole. The one redeeming thing about him?

His dad, Joel Miller.

And he's just invited you along on the family vacation to Panama City Beach, Florida.

author’s note: thank you for the request!! this was a fun one. my 1000 follower mark is quickly approaching and i cant wait to do something fun for it! thank you for all your support and love so far 💕

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), explicit language, alternate universe - boyfriend’s dad, age difference (21F and 56M), power imbalance dynamics, infidelity, asshole boyfriend, alcohol use, sunscreen as a flirting mechanism, reader wearing a bathing suit, touching in public, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, almost getting caught, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, sex against a door. let me know if any are missing!

Sean Miller is a shitty boyfriend. He constantly ditches you to hang out with his frat brothers, he’s left you at parties by yourself, he’s forgotten birthdays and anniversaries and, to top it all off, he’s never made you come. You’ve been with the guy for two years and not a single orgasm in all that time.

You deserve better. You deserve orgasms.

The only redeeming thing about Sean is his dad, Joel Miller.

Joel is the textbook definition of a DILF. He’s tall and broad with dark curly hair streaked with gray and kind brown eyes. Even approaching the upper fifties in age, he’s built like a tank. Wide shoulders and biceps that stretch his flannel shirts to the point where you’ll sometimes sit there willing a thread to pop, his thick thighs and a tight ass always hugged by the most sinful pair of Levi’s.

But besides looking like sin, Joel is kind. There’s been more than one occasion where Sean had forgotten your plans, leaving you waiting at his house where he still lives with his dad and Joel would always take pity on you and invite you to watch a movie with him, the two of you sitting on opposite sides of the couch while he played a comedy to cheer you up. On your birthday, he sent you a Starbucks gift card and a text when his own son didn’t even remember. When you would update him on how school was going, he’d always pat your shoulder and say, “‘Atta girl.”

That last memory in particular always makes your tummy erupt with butterflies.

In the last few months, things with Sean have been especially strained. He’s started hiding his phone from you, flipping the screen face down anytime you’re within arms reach of him. On the rare nights he spends at your apartment, he’ll get calls that he insists on taking privately.

Honestly, you were more than ready to end it before Joel caught you in his kitchen one day and asked if you wanted to come with him and Sean on their vacation to Panama City Beach.

“Really? I thought this was supposed to be, like, a guy’s trip?” You ask. You stayed the night last night and Sean was still asleep, always one to sleep until noon if given the opportunity. Joel is making coffee while you sit at the bar.

Joel shrugs. “I’m sure he’d want his girl there. You two can party and leave the old man behind for his bedtime,” he says with a playful smile that makes your heart flutter.

“I appreciate the offer, Mr. Miller, but there’s no way I can afford a ticket to Florida right now.” You reach for the cup he offers, only for him to pull it back out of reach.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover everythin’,” he replies. “Say yes and you can have your coffee.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a burden.”

Joel’s fingers brush against yours as he hands you your warm mug. A shiver runs down your spine at the contact.

“I’m positive, darlin’.”

________

Joel knows that his son treats you like shit, and he fucking hates it. He’s tried to talk some sense into the kid but all his wisdom just goes in one ear and out the other. He has to pretend that he doesn’t hear him bringing other girls over and it eats him up inside because he wants you to know, wants you to have better, but if he tells you, he’s severing the one tie he has to you and what then? He’s fifty-six, over thirty years your senior. He’s lived over two lifetimes in the course of your one. There’s no way in hell you’d look at him twice, and that’s not even including the fact that he’s your boyfriend’s dad.

Joel’s not sure what possessed him to invite you on vacation. You’re right, it was supposed to be a guy’s trip, a gift from Joel to Sean for his twenty-first birthday that was unfortunately right in the middle of his finals. He knows damn well Sean is, in fact, not going to be happy that you’ve been invited along. He’s certain the younger man fully intended to turn his hotel room into a revolving door for women he picked up at the bars along the beach, one time flings he could write off before returning home to a sure thing.

He tells Sean about the change of plans that evening over dinner. His son whines petulantly, slamming his fork down on the table.

“Dad, seriously? Why the fuck would you invite her, this is gonna ruin everything,” he says.

“Shouldn’t be talkin’ ‘bout your girlfriend like that,” Joel admonishes. Sean rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t even put out anymore, I don’t even know why I keep her around. I should just break up with her before the trip.”

Joel’s jaw clenches with frustration. “I already bought her ticket. She’s comin’ whether you like it or not and that’s final.”

“Fuck this shit,” Sean says, chair scraping across the floor as he stands. “Whatever. Won’t stop me from having a good time.”

Joel’s counting on it.

________

Joel and Sean pick you up from your apartment at 4 am for the 7 am flight to Florida. Your boyfriend is passed out in the front passenger seat, but Joel shakes him awake and tells him to get in the back. The younger man grumbles but does as he’s told while Joel helps you load your luggage into the bed of the truck. The trip will last four days, so you’ve squeezed everything into a single carry on and your backpack.

After all, it’s Florida. You plan on spending every day in a bikini.

Sean passes back out as you settle in his vacated seat, placing your travel mug of coffee in the cup holder besides Joel’s. He gives you a polite smile as he puts the truck in reverse, placing his arm on the back of the seat and twisting to look out the rear window, his other hand deftly turning the wheel.

You can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, your core already aching at his proximity.

You’re in for a long four days.

_______

The three of you make it through airport security quickly, the early hour lending some reprieve from the crowds.

“Why is this flight so fucking early?” Sean grouses, slumped in one of the uncomfortable terminal seats.

“Did you want more or less time in Florida?” Joel replies, flipping through his newspaper.

“Whatever,” Sean replies with a roll of his eyes, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up and burrowing into it.

You return from your quest for breakfast at that moment, a white paper bag in your hands and a bright smile on your face as you sit between the two men.

“I got you a bagel,” you say to Joel, pulling a plain bagel wrapped in wax paper from the bag.

“You get me anything?” Sean asks, peeking from beneath his hood. Your shoulders drop.

“Oh…no. You don’t usually eat breakfast,” you reply. Sean groans. “We can share mine?” You offer.

“No, it’s fine, whatever. Thanks for thinking of me.”

Joel’s brow pinches in irritation, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he watches your smile fade into a frown as you look at the bag in your hands. He nudges you with his shoulder.

“Hey, I appreciate it,” he tells you quietly. You give him a tentative smile.

He misses the bright one.

________

“I call window,” Sean says when the three of you have boarded the plane, flopping into the seat after haphazardly tossing his bag into an overhead compartment without waiting for a reply.

Joel fixes his son’s bag before settling his own beside it and turning to hold a hand out for yours. You hand your duffel over to him with a quiet, “Thank you.”

“Which seat do you want, darlin’?” Joel asks you.

“I can sit in the middle,” you offer, scooching past him in the tight space. Your back brushes his chest and he catches a whiff of your strawberry shampoo, the scent making his mouth water.

He sits beside you, tucking his backpack beneath the seat in front of him. Your thigh brushes his as you get comfortable in your seat, the row a tight squeeze for the three of you.

“How long is this flight?” You ask, pulling a pair of headphones from your backpack. Sean’s already unconscious again, his head tilted against the window and his mouth open in a snore.

“‘Bout two hours,” Joel says. You nod, shifting in your seat again. Your shoulders knock into his when you do, and you give him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. Tight fit,” you tell him. He swallows around the lump in his throat.

He can think of something else that would be a tight fit.

The flight attendants go through their pre-flight duties and take-off occurs without any issue. When they give the green light to use electronics, you pull out your phone, cursing when the screen remains black even as you hit the power button.

“My phone died,” you explain. He smiles sympathetically.

“You wanna watch a movie on mine? I downloaded a couple,” he offers.

“Sure. We can share my headphones?”

“Good idea.”

Joel plugs your headphones into the jack on his phone and passes you the right earbud before sticking the left one in his own ear. He queues up a movie, some action film called Triple Frontier that seemed interesting based on the synopsis, and holds the phone on his lap. You lean into him, that strawberry scent settling over him once again.

You keep fidgeting in your seat, twisting and readjusting your upper body against the arm rest between your seats. After the third time, he reaches down and flips it up, your body slumping closer to his. When he looks down at you, your face is tilted up towards his and he has to concentrate very hard to keep his gaze trained on your eyes.

“Thanks,” you whisper before returning your attention to the movie. “Hey, that guy kinda looks like you.”

________

The flight passes quickly, much to Joel’s dismay. He would have liked to keep sitting pressed up beside you for longer.

At the car rental facility, Joel gets handed the keys to a Jeep Wrangler. Sean’s eyes light up when he sees it.

“Can I drive?” He asks.

Joel sighs. “Fine, just be careful would ya?”

Sean lowers the soft top before hopping in the driver’s seat. Joel insists that you sit in the front passenger, because he’s a gentleman, but he quickly regrets the choice.

With the top down and the music blaring, Sean is in a relatively good mood. He’s smiling at you and even reaches over to grab your hand, pulling it towards him to press a kiss to the back of it. Joel can feel the tug of jealousy in his gut as he watches you smile back at him but there’s nothing that he can do about that.

After all, you’re Sean’s girl.

And he’s just going to have to live with that.

________

Sean is standing behind you with his hands on your hips, lips trailing kisses along the exposed skin of your shoulder in your tank top while Joel is speaking with the hotel clerk, checking into the rooms. You squirm away from Sean’s attention, the man dropping his hands from you and frowning.

“Why are you being such a prude?” He snaps.

“I’m not being a prude,” you say with a sigh. “Your dad is right there.”

He tries to pull you back towards him with an arm around your waist. “Come on, babe. He’s probably already heard you moaning my name,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Not likely, you think.

“I just don’t think it’s appropriate.” You step out of his grasp again as Joel approaches, holding three key cards.

“Room 102 for the two of you,” he says, handing two of the cards to Sean. “And I’m in 104, if y’all need anything.”

“Great,” Sean says, grabbing your hand. “Come on, let’s go put our stuff away.”

You trail behind Sean, but can’t help looking back at Joel.

You’re surprised to find his dark gaze already fixed on you.

________

“Come on, let’s go find a bar,” Sean whines. You’ve just left the bathroom after changing out of your travel outfit of leggings and into a bikini and a sheer cover-up dress.

“It’s so early. I highly doubt there are any bars open. Besides, I need to charge my phone,” you tell him, packing a tote bag with your sunscreen, a book, your copy of the room key, and your sunglasses. “Why don’t we go to the pool?”

“It’s PCB, babe, there’s bound to be a bar open,” Sean says with a roll of his eyes. “But if you wanna be boring then by all means, go to the pool.”

You sigh. “You do whatever you want, Sean.”

He grabs his wallet from the nightstand, shoving it into his pocket. “Fine. I will. Come find me when you’re done being such a fucking bitch.”

The door slams behind him as he leaves, the sudden noise making you jump in surprise.

You can’t even find it in yourself to be upset.

________

Joel’s just opening the door to his room when he hears his son’s raised voice across the hall. He freezes, the door half open as he listens.

“Fine. I will. Come find me when you’re done being a fucking bitch,” Sean says before slamming the door.

Anger courses through Joel’s veins as he listens to his son’s heavy footsteps echo down the hall. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, before opening the door fully and crossing the hall to knock on your door.

When you open the door, you look surprised to see him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. Joel has to make a conscious effort to not let his eyes wander your body. He can see the neon pink strings of your bikini tied around your neck and god does he want to see more.

He clears his throat. “Hey. Everythin’ alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. I was just about to go to the pool,” you tell him.

“I’ll come with you,” Joel immediately offers without thinking.

“If you’re sure. I don’t want to get in the way of any plans you had, Mr. Miller,” you mutter.

“I’m sure.”

________

Joel sets some hotel towels on loungers positioned beside each other on a sunny part of the pool deck. The pool is fairly busy and to your surprise there’s a live DJ and a bartender is already making a steady flow of drinks behind the poolside bar. The pool itself is huge and even boasts its own lazy river that you’re looking forward to floating down.

Your attention is dragged to Joel once more as he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it up. Your mouth goes dry as you watch his back muscles work, rippling beneath miles of tan skin that you want to trace with your fingertips.

You shake your head free of thought and remove your coverup while his back is still turned, stuffing it into your tote bag you’ve dropped beside the lounger. You pull out your sunscreen and sunglasses, slipping them over your eyes to combat the harsh Florida sun.

When you look up, you’re surprised to find Joel already watching you, gaze fixed squarely on your chest. You clear your throat, wiggling the sunscreen bottle at him.

“You want me to get your back?” You offer.

“Sure. Thanks,” he replies, voice rough. You have to fight the urge to rub your thighs together for relief from the ache between them, your brain conjuring scenarios of that deep timbre in your ear telling you how good you feel around him.

He sits on the lounger with his back to you, waiting for your next move. You squirt some sunscreen into your palm, rubbing your hands together before smoothing it across his back. His shoulders tense briefly at the first touch of your hands before he goes lax against you, his head dropping as you smooth the lotion on him.

You get lost in the feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips as you drag your hands over the broad muscles of his back and shoulders and down his spine. In a moment of bravery, or stupidity, you let your fingers drag the tiniest bit beneath the elastic of his navy swim shorts, just enough that it could be passed off as an honest mistake.

When you’re finished, you hand the bottle to him over his shoulder. He takes it silently, lathering the rest of his body while you adjust your lounger flat and lay face down. You reach behind your back, tugging at the strings of your bikini until they fall to the side.

“Could you do me next?”

________

Joel takes a seat on the lounger, his hips brushing yours. He’s hard as a fucking rock in his swim shorts, has been from the moment you opened your hotel door wearing your sheer coverup, pink bikini taunting him beneath.

It was a stupid fucking idea to ask you to come to the pool with him. He was clearly thinking with the head in his pants and not the one on his shoulders because he didn’t stop to consider that he’d be getting a front seat to the soft skin of your thighs and tummy, the curve of your waist and ass and breasts on full display for him to commit to memory.

And now you were asking him to touch you. Giving him permission to have his hands on the same flesh he imagines when he’s gripping his cock roughly in his palm and chasing an orgasm that offers hardly any relief.

He swallows nervously before uncapping the sunscreen and squirting it directly on your back. You give a little yelp of surprise, the lotion no doubt unexpectedly cold, but you settle back down when he smooths a palm across your back.

You’ve untied the strings of your top, leaving him with no obstacles as he works the lotion into your skin. He loses himself in the repetitive motion, smoothing his hands across your shoulders and down your spine like you had done to him. He lets his thumbs press into the divot of your lower back, fighting the urge to drag them beneath the scant bit of fabric covering your ass.

As he finishes, he drags his hands back up your sides, his fingertips dragging across the soft skin of the exposed sides of your breasts. He feels the hitch in your breathing as he does and he worries for a moment that perhaps he’s gone too far.

“Thanks,” you say, voice breathy. “Would you mind getting my legs for me? I don’t want to get up.”

Joel thinks he should mind. He should absolutely mind being asked by his son’s girlfriend to rub lotion into her back and legs. The action is too intimate, it’s crossing a line and he knows this.

He just can’t bring himself to give a fuck anymore.

Wordlessly, Joel squirts some more sunscreen into his palm, this time warming it between his hands before smoothing it on your legs, starting with your calves. He slides his palms up your legs, high enough that his fingertips brush the crease where the curve of your ass meets your thigh. Your legs spread just the slightest bit and Joel lets his thumbs drift toward your inner thighs.

He’s playing with fire now as he presses his thumbs deeper, higher, the tip of one even grazing your bikini bottoms. He desperately wants to slide it beneath the elastic, to drag his thumb through your slit and find out if you’re wet just from the touch of his hands.

But Joel pulls his hands away and stands, moving over to his own lounger and laying facedown on the towel covered cushion. His dick presses uncomfortably into his thigh and he uses that discomfort as a means to will the hardness away.

He’s in for a long four days.

________

Your pool day with Joel runs from the early morning to the late afternoon. Neither of you hear from Sean during that time, but you can’t find it in yourself to be bothered. Not when Joel Miller is sitting beside you in an inner tube, floating down a lazy river as you talk about everything and nothing, drops of water clinging to his skin and catching the light. You could stay in a moment like this forever so long as he’s there, too.

As the intensity of the sun starts to wane, Joel suggests finding somewhere to get dinner.

“Pick somewhere nice, though. My treat,” he says as you’re parting ways at your hotel room doors. He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, shutting his door and leaving you smiling in the hallway like a girl with a crush.

You let yourself into your hotel room, not surprised to find it empty. Your phone is still sitting on the charger with no new notifications. The part of you that’s been in a relationship with Sean Miller for two years feels a pang of sadness at your boyfriend’s silence.

The part that wants to fuck his dad doesn’t give a shit.

You shower and change into a sundress before slipping your sandals back on. Checking the time, you grab your bag and head to the lobby to meet up with Joel.

Joel’s already in the lobby, leaning against the wall near the exit and scrolling through his phone. He’s wearing a light blue short sleeve button down that hugs his biceps deliciously, the tan of his skin popping against the fabric, his usual boots, and khakis. You were almost certain this man didn’t own anything besides perfectly broken in Wranglers. His hair is combed back, still damp from his shower, and he looks so good you have to consciously stop your jaw from dropping.

“Hey, you pick a place?” Joel asks as you approach, slipping his phone into the pocket of his pants.

“There’s an oyster bar nearby that looks good,” you reply. He holds the door open for you, broad palm ghosting across your low back as you exit the cool hotel lobby and out into the hot Florida night. The traffic on the sidewalk is thick, people moving like the nearby ocean as they ebb and flow from place to place.

“You hear from Sean at all?” Joel asks as you navigate the crowds, his arm brushing yours as he sticks close to your side. You shake your head and Joel sighs. “I’m sorry. I love the kid, I do, but goddamn if he doesn’t piss me off sometimes.”

You sigh. “It’s not your fault, Mr. Miller. You don’t have to apologize for him.”

You’re both quiet after that. You don’t know what’s going through Joel’s head as you sneak a glance at him and catch only his furrowed brow and tense jaw.

You nearly pass the restaurant in your distraction, but Joel catches you by the arm, tugging you with him to the entrance.

It’s a cute little bar and restaurant, the kind of place that’s cozy without being horribly cramped. The lighting is dim and booths line the walls while tables sit in the middle, candles flickering and casting shadows on the walls and across the white tablecloths.

The hostess seats you at one of the booths, tucked away in the corner. You sit across from Joel, setting your bag beside you after digging your phone out from it. When the waitress walks away without leaving menus, Joel looks adorably confused.

“You have to use your phone,” you tell him with a giggle. “They have the QR code menus.”

“I’m gettin’ too old for this shit,” Joel complains. You roll your eyes, standing and moving over to his side of the booth, settling beside him. His thigh presses to yours and you’re acutely aware of the contact as you lean close to share your phone screen with him.

When the waitress returns, you place your drink and food orders. Joel opts for whiskey, neat, and a medium rare steak because you can take the man out of Texas but you can’t take Texas out of the man. You order a spicy pineapple margarita and a plate of herb crusted oysters.

You should probably move back over to the other side of the booth, but you don’t want to. The feel of his body pressed to yours lights up your nerve endings in an unfamiliar way, his clean woodsy smell settling over you like a comforting blanket. He doesn’t say anything about how you remain seated next to him, just turns his head to talk to you.

The drinks arrive first. The sour tang of the pineapple makes your face pucker when you take a sip, making Joel laugh. You might be imagining it, but you think his gaze lingers on your lips for just a beat too long to be coincidence. You cross your legs beneath the table, squeezing your thighs together for some semblance of relief from the ache between your legs.

A second round of drinks is ordered and delivered while you talk about a TV show you both enjoy. This drink leaves you feeling pleasantly fuzzy around the edges. Joel makes a joke about one of the recent episodes and it makes you laugh so hard you’re leaning against him for support.

You place your hand on his thigh close to his knee. Joel tenses beside you but doesn’t say anything, his eyes dark over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip. You can’t bring yourself to look away but you’re also frozen in place, not daring to drag your hand further up. The spell between you is broken when the waitress drops by with your trays of food, setting them on the table and walking away with a request for another round of drinks from Joel.

“These look amazing,” you say, squeezing lemon over them. Joel’s started to cut into his steak, inspecting the center and giving a tiny nod of approval that makes you smile. “Hey, did you know oysters are an aphrodisiac?”

Joel coughs on the piece of steak he’d been eating, reaching for his whiskey and tossing the rest back as he swallows. “They’re what now?”

________

“Aphrodisiacs. They increase your sex drive,” you say, your lips wrapping around the bite poised on your fork. Your eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of satisfaction. “God, these are better than sex.”

“Must not be havin’ very good sex, then,” Joel immediately responds without thinking. His hand freezes halfway between his plate and his mouth, his eyes going wide as his brain catches up to his mouth. “Sorry that...that wasn’t appropriate.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Miller,” you say, patting his knee. Your hand lingers there again, the second time this evening, and it makes Joel’s brain misfire. This whole dinner has been a test of his self-control and he is quickly fraying at the edges the longer you sit pressed beside him, that god forsaken strawberry scent flooding his senses.

The waitress delivers the third round of drinks and your hand leaves his thigh to pick yours up and take a sip. His eyes track the way your lips wrap around the straw, mind wandering to something else he’d like to see them wrapped around.

He takes a sip of his own drink, letting the burn of the whiskey down his throat distract him. The third drink is making his mind spin, a voice in his head urging him to trace his fingers along the exposed skin of your thigh beneath the table. He sets his hand on his own thigh, casual as can be.

You’re telling Joel a story about the time a guy in one of your classes was so hungover he fell asleep in the middle of an exam but Joel can barely concentrate. His eyes keep lingering on your lips and trail lower, lower, lower, over the delicate line of your neck, the dip at the base of your throat, the swell of your breasts.

Joel stretches his pinky, the tip of his finger barely skimming the soft skin of your thigh. He watches your face for a reaction and finding none, he feels emboldened. He inches his hand closer, his ring finger joining his pinky in caressing you.

He’s focused on your face, watching for any indication that you notice what he’s up to beneath the tablecloth. He holds his breath as his fingers dip beneath the hem of your dress. You stutter in your story, tripping over your words and Joel’s fingers pause in their exploration.

Joel shouldn’t be doing this. He should pull his hand back and forget any of this happened, forget the silky smooth feel of your skin beneath his fingers, forget the way your smile lit up your face as he floated down the lazy river beside you.

Then you’re tilting your head, eyes boring into him like you can see right through him, see every depraved thought running through his head and your knee presses more tightly to his, your legs spreading beneath the table and Joel’s hand sliding to your inner thigh with the movement.

“Can I get y’all anything else?”

Joel rips his hand from your leg and swallows guiltily as he looks up at the waitress standing beside the booth. You sit up straighter, your heat leaving his side and he curses the interruption.

Perhaps it was for the best, though.

You’re still Sean’s girlfriend, after all.

________

Your skin is buzzing with the liquor in your veins and the phantom feel of Joel’s touch on your thighs. The man is quiet on the walk back, brooding even. His brow is furrowed, jaw tense, hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants like it’ll stop him from touching you again.

The thought makes you downright giddy.

“Thanks for dinner, Mr. Miller,” you say as you stand in front of the doors of your respective rooms.

He gives you a tight smile. “‘Course, darlin’. Have a good night,” he tells you before disappearing into his room, the heavy door shutting behind him and echoing in the hall.

You swipe the key for your room, opening the door to find it still dark, everything the same as you left it. You drop your bag on one of the beds, pulling your phone out to check if you have any missed messages and finding none.

The silence from Sean is the answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking.

You leave your room, crossing the hall to knock on Joel’s door. The man answers a moment later, already changed into a t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks, opening the door wider.

“Left my key in the room,” you reply. “You mind if I stay with you for a bit?”

You can see the struggle flash across Joel’s brown eyes, but it’s just as quickly swallowed by a shade of lust that makes your breath hitch.

“Sure, darlin’,” he finally says, stepping back and making room for you to cross the threshold.

You turn to face him when the door shuts. You can’t tell who makes the first move, only that one moment you’re staring at each other and the next your body is being pulled against his, thick fingers digging into your hair and pulling your mouth to his in a bruising kiss.

He turns your bodies, your back hitting the door as his mouth continues to explore, his tongue dipping between your lips to tangle with yours. He tastes like whiskey and feels like sin, his broad body pressing against yours. Your arms wind around his shoulders, pulling him towards you desperately like he’s the air you need to breathe.

“Fuck,” Joel groans against your mouth. “Been wantin’ to touch you so goddamn bad, you have no fuckin’ idea.”

His hands drag up your hips and over your waist, fabric of your dress bunching in his fists. He looks down between your bodies, watching as he slides a thick thigh between your legs, the sudden pressure against your sensitive core making you gasp. You rock against the hard muscle, unable to fight back a whimper at how good it feels.

“That feel good, baby?” Joel asks, lips close to your ear. “Come on, darlin’ move a little faster for me, that’s it.”

His hands grip your hips, urging your movements over his thigh. Your head tips back against the door with a thud as you gasp. His lips trail hot kisses across your jaw and neck, his teeth nipping at the skin just over your pulse point. One of his hands drags the strap of your dress down, exposing your breast to the cool air of the room, your nipples going tight with equal parts chill and anticipation.

Joel rubs a thumb across the tight bud, almost reverently, before bringing his mouth to it, pulling it between his lips and swirling it with his tongue. The sensation makes your hips move faster over his thigh and you can feel how slick you are in your panties with each thrust.

“You have any idea,” Joel groans, other hand leaving your hip and ripping the opposite strap down so that he can give your nipple the same attention, “how fuckin’ hard it is, huh? To keep my fuckin’ head on straight when you walk around lookin’ like an angel that a devil like me don’t deserve?”

“Joel,” you moan, your chest heaving with strained breaths as just this man’s thigh brings you closer to relief than your boyfriend ever has. “Joel, please!”

“Please what, sweetheart? I’m already in this deep, you gotta know I’d give ya anythin’,” he says. “You wanna cum, baby? Wanna soak my thigh for me, get these pants all messy so that I can’t think of anythin’ but you when I gotta wear them for another three days?”

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, your orgasm cresting unexpectedly. Your legs clamp tight around his thigh, the aftershocks coursing through you with surprising ferocity. When your grip on him loosens, the man drops to his knees, looking up at you with a wicked gleam in his dark brown eyes.

“How’d that feel, baby?” He asks, running his hands up the outside of your legs until his fingertips find the elastic of your panties, easing the fabric down your thighs while he waits for a response.

“G-good,” you mumble, feeling a bit self-conscious in the aftermath. You’d just come from nothing but grinding against this man’s thigh for crying out loud. You reach up to fix your dress straps, but a pinch to your inner thigh has you yelping in surprise.

“Nuh uh, wanna see those gorgeous tits when I look up at you,” Joel admonishes. You can feel your cheeks heating, blood rushing to your face from just his words.

He lifts your leg, draping it over his shoulder. The position leaves you a little off kilter, your hands landing on his head for balance.

“I’m gonna eat this pretty little pussy now, okay?” He says, rather than asks. He gives you no time to respond, leaning in to lick through your folds with a deep, satisfied groan. You cry out from the overstimulation to your sensitive clit, your fingers pulling against his hair. He hums, the vibrations pulsing through your bundle of nerves and making you damn near sob at the sensation.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” is all you can manage to say, a slur of his name as his tongue circles your clit and dips inside your entrance, messy slides of it through your folds as he drinks you up. You look down briefly, only to find him staring right back at you, his heated stare making your blood boil.

“Gimme one more, baby, and then I need to get you on my cock,” he groans before doubling his efforts, licking and sucking and nipping at your flesh until you’re sobbing out his name as you come for a second time. “Fuck, that’s it. Good fuckin’ girl,” he growls.

He stands, shoving his pajama pants down his thighs, his cock bobbing free. The thick length of it makes your mouth practically water as you watch him give it a few rough tugs. He smirks at you, reaching down to lift one of your legs, holding it up with the crook of his elbow at the back of your knee. The position leaves you spread wide for him as he takes his cock in his other hand, positioning the thick head at your soaked entrance.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, the tip barely pushing inside of you.

“I want this,” you repeat dutifully. He shakes his head.

“No, sweetheart. Wanna hear you say you want my cock.”

You whine, the sound damn near pitiful to your ears. “Please, Joel, I want your cock.”

“There’s my good girl,” he says with a smile, finally easing into you with a burning stretch that makes you gasp. “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ tight.”

You moan as he bottoms out, hips pressing to yours. He kisses whatever skin he can reach as he gives you a moment to adjust before pulling out nearly all the way and thrusting sharply back inside, punching the air from your lungs as his cock drags against your g-spot with each thrust.

There’s a pounding at your back and a shout of your name, followed by, “Dad! Where the fuck is everyone?”

Your eyes go wide and Joel’s hips slow but to your shock, they don’t stop. He brings a hand to your jaw, fingers pressing to your cheek as he slips his thumb between your lips and shushes you.

“Haven’t seen her,” Joel shouts back, even as his eyes never leave yours. Your walls flutter around his cock as he continues to thrust, sharp but controlled so as not to make a lot of noise that can be heard on the other side of the door. “You should check the hotel bar. Said she might get some drinks there if you weren’t back when we finished dinner.”

“You guys went to dinner without me? That’s fuckin’ bullshit,” Sean whines. “Fine, whatever, I didn’t even want to see her anyways. Found me a blonde that I can bring back to the room instead.”

Joel’s eyes flash with rage and you shake your head gently. When Sean’s footsteps indicate he’s left, Joel’s hips resume a more punishing rhythm. He withdraws his thumb from your mouth as his hand slides lower, circling your throat possessively instead. You gasp, moaning loudly as your body relents to a third orgasm that leaves your vision fuzzy at the edges.

Joel’s own movements stutter before he’s pulling out, his cum splashing against your tummy as he grinds his cock against your hip, finishing with a gasp of your name.

You lean against him as you catch your breath, enjoying the feel of his hands smoothing over your hair.

“You okay?” He asks.

You grin at him. “Never been better, Mr. Miller.”

Sean may have found a blonde, but you’ve found your way into bed with his dad.

Karma’s funny like that.

Joel Miller taglist:

@huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfelll @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @evyiione @leeeesahhh @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @loveliestofthoughts @theviewfromtheritz @brittmb115 @uncassettodiricordi @pedritosgfreal @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @casa-boiardi @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @decemberdolly @spookyemorockbabe @reader-without-a-story @katmoonz @simping-soldat @mswarriorbabe80 @orphanbird95 @shatteredbaby @tusk89 @gingersince97 @mssbridgerton @internetobsessed1234-blog @sloanexx @manazo @bigboiseason123 @bean-is-reading @darlingpedro @silkiers @pascals-catt @bbyanarchist @therealcap @pedrosgrogu @Sadbloatedegg @dimitra300 @thesolarangell @pedrotonin @ievutebebee @peterrthree @worhols @lonesomecowboah @taraiel

Want more Joel Miller? Check out the master list.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #boyfriend’s dad!joel miller #alternate universe

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luveline · 9 months

Note

if you're still taking them I would love to make a request for Eddie and Roan! do you know how sometimes little kids will call their parents workplace just to talk about the most random things or just ask some totally super important question? I feel like roan would do that with the reader and Eddie

thank you for your request!! eddie and roan —roan learns how to use the phone, 1.3k

Eddie used to feel nervous when the phone rang for him at work. "Call for baby Munson!" shouted across the shop while Eddie was usually flat on his back under a truck or elbow deep in a scooter engine, he'd get this pit in his stomach thinking something was wrong.

It was usually daycare. Roan's sick, Roan's wet herself and her spare clothes aren't here, is Roan allergic to veggie sticks? Because she's saying she is.

But nowadays, a phone rings for him and it's almost always you with something nice to say. You miss him. You've been thinking about him. All manner of gooey soft confession that has him clutching the phone like a loser, desperate for your voice.

He springs away from his lunch when he's called. Darwin gives Eddie a funny look as he passes the phone.

Eddie shrugs it off. "Hello?" he asks. "Y/N?"

"It's me!"

Eddie feels his eyebrows leap up. "Hi, me." Roan hadn't ever used the phone unassisted, to his memory. "Where's mom?"

"She's trying to fix your hair dryer."

Eddie hears it, then, the roaring blow in the background. "Why does it sound like that?"

"She dropped it. I think she's sad."

"Ro, I fixed it!" you shout, followed by an even louder howling of air, and a heavy silence. "Okay, I didn't."

"Is that why you called me?" Eddie asks, bemused.

"No, I called you because I want to know how they make corndogs. How do they get the hot dog inside of the corn, dad?"

Eddie puts his hand on the wall to steady himself as he laughs. "You wanna know how they make corndogs? Are you gonna make some?"

"I could if I knew how!" she stresses. "I'd ask mom, but she's pre-oc-u-pied."

"That's a big word, babe, where'd you learn that one?" Eddie asks, impressed.

"Dad, corndogs!"

"Right, right. Okay, well. They put the hot dog on the stick first, and then the corn part is actually batter. They roll the hotdog around in the batter and cook them together in the fryer. So it isn't the hotdog going into the corn, it's actually corn going on the hotdog."

"Batter like for cakes?"

"No," he laughs fondly. "And it's not sweet corn, babe, it's something called cornmeal. Maybe we can make some this week, wouldn't that be fun? Then you can see how they make them for real. I think that would be super fun."

His bubbly tone attracts the attention and subsequent laughter of his colleague. He throws them all the bird, totally content and more than happy with his life and his curious girl.

"Yes," Roan cheers, dragging the 's' syllable until she's out of breath, "oh my god that would be so fun!"

"Okay, then that's what we'll do. Are you being good for mom?"

"I'm being awesome." There's a weird crunching noise. "Did you hear that? I think she put the screwdriver in the hairdryer again."

"Again?" Eddie asks worriedly.

Roan must put the phone down. Eddie genuinely can't hear a thing, until you pick up the receiver and say, "Hallo?"

"You blowing up the house?"

You make a pleased noise that has his heart doubling in size. "Hi, Eddie. I'm having a technological mishap, but rest assured, we are in no danger of explosion. Anymore. What did you call for? It's lunch, isn't it?"

"Actually, Roan called me. She wanted to know how to make corndogs."

"You do know everything," you say. "Go and eat your lunch, baby. We'll still be here when you get home, yeah? I love you. Roan, come and tell daddy you love him before we hang up."

A small silence. "Dad?" Roan asks.

"Yep, still here."

"I love you, okie dokie? Please come home in an hour."

Eddie laughs warmly. It's more like four hours, but whatever she wants to think is what he'll tell her. "I love you. Tell Y/N I love her, too, will you? Thank you."

"Yes!" Her voice comes quieter, "I love you," Roan says to you.

"I love you, too. Let's make dinner."

You must think he's said goodbye, because the phone gets a knock and the dial tone sounds.

—

You're sitting at your desk shovelling pretzels into your mouth while you click around your emails when the phone rings. You slide it between your ear and shoulder, pausing your frankly messy chewing. "Hello and good afternoon, Y/N L/N speaking, how can I help?"

"Y/N?" Roan says worriedly.

"Roan? What's the matter?"

"Oh, it is you! It didn't sounded like you at first, that's weird."

"Sorry, gorgeous, I was using my voice for fancy grown ups."

She giggles like this is the funniest thing you've ever said to her, "You're being funny," she praises.

You're secretly incredibly pleased. Making your six year old laugh never gets old. "So nothing is wrong, then? You know, those numbers on the fridge are for emergencies."

"This is an emergency."

"Yeah, I bet. What's going on? Where's dad?"

"He's making toffee cake for you. I was helping him do the buttercream but my arms got tired from whisking."

"Is that why you're calling me?"

"Yeah."

You dig for a saltier pretzel and chew thoughtfully. "What's the tiredest part? Your shoulders?"

"And my fingers."

"Asked daddy to kiss 'em better?"

"I would but he's trying to be perfect about the cake. It looks yummy."

"Did you get to lick the bowl?"

"Yeah, and dad let me eat a spoon of the melted chocolate. It was pretty great."

You grin into the receiver. "I bet it was amazing. Maybe you can try and rest your poor arms. Make daddy pour you a big glass of cranberry juice with the heart shaped ice cubes and watch TV until I come home, okay? That's an order."

"Okay," she laughs. "When are you coming home?"

"I can leave in about twenty minutes, and the drive home takes another twenty, so…" You check the time on your computer. "I think by five."

"Ugh, that's forever away."

"I know. Do what I said, okay? Sit down on the couch. I can have a little look at your arms when I come home, maybe we can have a pamper night tonight. We can use some of my fancy lotion and rub it in like a massage," you say.

"That sounds nice," she hums.

"Alright, sweetheart. Listen, can I talk to dad before I go back to work?"

"Yep, yep." You know what's coming as soon as she inhales. "Daddy!" she bellows at the top of her lungs, "Y/N's on the phone!"

It's flattering how swiftly he gets there. "Hey?" he asks.

"Hi, do we need anything for me to grab on the way home? I know you ran out of deodorant, was there anything else?"

"Nothing I can think of. You okay?"

"I'm awesome. I told Ro you'd make her a big cup of juice for her sore arms."

"She told you about those, huh?" He kisses her audibly. "She's the best mixer ever. I was thinking we'd change her name to kitchen aid."

You choke on a pretzel. Coughing, you laugh through a chastisement. "You leave her name alone. Roan is a nice name all by itself."

"If you insist," he says grandly. "See you in an hour? I've got a surprise for you."

"I can't wait," you say. You'll pretend to be totally surprised at his cake, no problem. Anything to make him smile. "Love you both. See you soon."

"Love you. Say love you," Eddie prompts.

"I love you!" Roan yells. "I'll make dad put your blanket in the dryer!"

You put down the phone with a small smile, wondering if you can weasel your way past your eagle-eyed coworkers for an early finish.

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angelltheninth · 5 months

Note

If you’re still taking requests how do you feel a about Modern Mizu? If you’re interested in that setting could you do one in which both the reader and Mizu are in college and they get paired together for a project? Could be the reader is super shy but has a huge crush on Mizu and this is the perfect chance for them to get to know each other but the reader keeps stumbling on her words or blushes whenever Mizu looks at her 😂 oooh what if after one of their project sessions they didnt finish what they were supposed to do so then Mizu suggets they meet up for coffee tomorrow and run by some ideas and the reader agrees and Mizu is like “great, its a date” gosh the backflips my little heart would do lol. If you like this request and would like to do it then awesome and thank you! If not that’s cool too and i hope you have an awesome day! 💖

Funny I was talking to @multi-fandom-imagine about modern Mizu. Check out her Mizu imagines too cause they kinda inspired these.

Pairing: College!Mizu x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, college au, studying together, coffee date, secret crushes, shy!Reader

A/N: Mizu brainrot is still strong. Also reminder that I appreciate the reblogs/comments, it lets me know that you enjoy my content.

College!Mizu keeps to herself and her small, very small, circle of friends. She is mostly focused on her studies and her various competitions, martial arts and swordsmanship. She's more passionate about those then her studies.

College!Mizu is very popular on campus. The target of many crushes, many confessions, bit never reciprocating them. She doesn't try to get attention, she really doesn't but it seems to follow her where ever she goes. That include attention from you.

College!Mizu was surprised when you approached her for the upcoming class project. Little did she know it took all of your courage to do so. She planned to do this with one of her friends but since you asked she'd feel bad refusing, she has seen you struggling a little in this particular class.

College!Mizu invites herself over to your place pretty casually. But don't you worry, she brings snacks. Explains why she asked for your favorites earlier that day. She was amused by how flustered you got trying to settle on just one so she brought more than one snack.

College!Mizu gets entirely too close to you, making it impossible for you to focus on the project. Try as you might you keep looking at her rather than focusing on the task at hand. Because of this time passes without you getting much done at all.

College!Mizu isn't oblivious to why you're so distracted. Her suspicions are only confirmed when she asks you to meet up for coffee and your eyes suddenly light up. When she puts her number into your phone you can't help but get the biggest smile on your face.

College!Mizu texts you the very next day asking if you're available tonight. She was so shocked by how quickly you replied, but also a lot more talkative through texts then in person. She even sent you a picture of herself so you could figure out what to wear to your date.

College!Mizu was a little bit late because of her swordsmanship practice but she did let you know in advance. Besides you don't mind waiting because she did send you a picture while on break. You never knew how pretty she looked with her hair down.

College!Mizu enjoys taking a break from everything and just talking to someone with nothing impending happening. Yes, there's the project but you have lots of time. Truth be told she wanted to see what you were like when you're casual with her.

College!Mizu is well aware that she can be a little bit intimidating at first, so breaking the ice like this will be good for the two of you if you're gonna work together in the future. For that to go smoothly she needed to get to know you better and she can't do that when you're constantly staring at her, too shy to say anything.

College!Mizu hopes that you'll learn to be more relaxed around her as time goes on. Maybe even work up the courage to confess, cause she's been secretly waiting for it since your first shared class together.

#blue eye samurai #mizu #bes #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #bes x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #mizu imagine #bes imagine #blue eye samurai headcanons #mizu headcanons #bes headcanons #blue eye samurai fanfic #blue eye samurai fluff #mizu fluff #bes fluff #college au #x female reader

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katiemcabeswife · 4 months

Text

Awesome Parenting

Sam Kerr x Mum!Reader x Daughter || Sam's loss has a bigger impact on your daughter than Sam.

You were too focused on watching your girlfriend drop her head in disappointment to see the tears build in your daughter's eyes. The London derby was always a good game to watch and being present only amplified the tension you could feel through a screen. The derby had even higher stakes as Arsenal was following closely behind Chelsea in second place and while losing might not make them drop down on the ladder, it was an important game to win.

Sam never likes to lose, no one does really, she's even said herself she hates losing more than she likes winning, so to lose such a game to Chelsea's biggest rivals, you knew she would take it to heart.

It seems that your daughter has picked up on the trait.

Your eyes dart to the floor where your daughter now resides with tears rolling down her face. You crouch down and pull her into a sitting position with a concerned look on your face, "What's up hun? Are you hurt?" You ask confused as to why she had dropped to the floor.

Her hands went to her face as she was wiping her tears and simultaneously hiccuping, "Mama lose," A fresh wave of tears poured over the 2-year-old which, whilst you hated seeing your baby girl cry, brought you relief that she wasn't hurt.

You cooed as you picked her up and rested her on your hip, "Hey, it's ok. I know it can be really upsetting when things don't go our way and I know that we all wanted Mama to win, but it's ok. It happens sometimes and Mama will get them back next time, ok?" You bounced slightly while rubbing her back, trying to prevent a full-blown tantrum in the middle of a very busy stadium.

"But why!?" Your daughter screeched.

"Hey, hey, none of that, please. I understand your upset but we don't yell at Mummy, ok?" When you felt her nod into the crook of your neck you kissed her temple, "Sometimes the other team plays really well, and sometimes our team doesn't play as well as they can and as we know, mistakes happen. There are lots of things that could have happened but that's ok. We can't win all the time, even though we really want to."

"But Mama be sad." Adelia whimpered.

You pouted to yourself at how sweet your kid was, "Well, I know whenever I'm sad, you cheer me up so how about we go see Mama and see if you can cheer her up, yeah?" Adelia perked up at the idea and quickly wiped her tears.

You walked down to the barrier and got Sam's attention who then began to make her way over, "Hey, munchkin," She said as she reached the two of you, "Hey, y/n/n," She greeted you with a quick kiss and pulled Adelia over the barrier.

Adelia took Sam's face between her chubby little hands and gave Sam a kiss on the nose, "Mama, ok?" Sam nudged her nose into Adelia's cheek which brought out a giggle.

"I will be, thank you chicken." You smiled at your girls.

That night after you and Sam had put Adelia to sleep you were cuddling on the couch, "A was really upset when the whistle rang today, think you've rubbed off on her." You looked up at Sam with a little smirk.

"She is her Mama's girl, isn't she?" Sam smirked back.

You groaned into her chest, "It's not a good thing, Sammy," You giggled.

"Well, she seemed pretty happy when she saw me?" Sam accused defensively.

"Yeah, because of my awesome parenting skills," You countered.

Sam kissed the top of your head and sighed, "You are pretty awesome,"

You sighed contently with her, "I know,"

"Oi, cheeky," She laughed and you distracted her by planting a kiss onto her lips, smiling into the kiss.

#woso x reader #auswnt x reader #woso imagine #woso community #sam kerr imagine #sam kerr x reader #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #sam kerr #woso

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nahoney22 · 1 month

Note

wondering if you could do something fluffy with Tech where he walks in on reader (f) singing softly to herself and he’s completely enamoured and mesmerised please? Many thanks and congratulations on the following - that’s awesome 👏🏻 ❤️

Songbird

Tech X F!Reader

word count: 1.8k

When Tech hears you singing for the first time, he can’t help but fall for you just a little more and let slip his feelings.

warnings: SFW, fluff only, mutual pining, non-established relationship, first kiss. Crosshair being a wingman.

authors note: such a cute idea! I’m definitely missing him this season 🥺 hope this is okay anon and again, as always, sorry for the wait 🤍

Tech found himself perplexed by the notion of Crosshair's teasing when he began to declare that he, Tech himself, harbored feelings for you. He wasn't programmed for emotional attachment; his purpose was solely to fulfill his duties and utilise his expertise. Yet, as he contemplated Crosshair's jests and observed you with what he could only interpret as affection, he began to entertain the possibility that his brother might be onto something.

But of course at first, he dismisses it.

“Are you going to look me in the eye and tell me she,” Crosshair looks to you from across the threshold and then locks eyes with Tech, “is not pretty?”

“I do not recall ever saying that she wasn’t.” Tech states with a frown. “Any sane person would find her beautiful-.”

Crosshair said nothing as Tech ate his words, his mouth tight lipped at his spill. Crosshair could only smirk before he strolls away.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he scours his mind for a pinpoint in time where this crush had emerged; yet all he could find was that as he recalled being In your presence, his heart would race. His hands even fidgeted and his gaze lingered on you as you leaned over him, demonstrating a curiosity for his tinkering or the contents of his datapad.

Now that he thinks about it, he would try and control his breathing, not wanting to sound breathless when you asked him something. All the whilst Crosshair would smirk knowingly from across the ship. He was rather grateful he maintained the discretion not to divulge his feelings to you.

He knew he had to do some reasearch on this after recognising his unfamiliar emotions and so sought guidance from the holonet later that night. Though, he was unwilling to express his sentiments until he comprehended them himself. Thus, he opted to bide his time and maybe this will pass.

It did not.

As days turned into weeks, his affection for you only swelled. Simply witnessing you smiling at Omega or indulging in a mundane activity like blowing steam off your morning caf on your bunk brought a smile to his face. And despite his efforts to suppress these newfound emotions, he found the prospect of harbouring feelings for someone exhilarating. Albeit marred by bouts of jealousy, particularly when he observed a bartender attempting to woo you with pickup lines one time.

One warm evening, Tech finds himself outside the Marauder, engrossed in his weekly maintenance routine. Assuming you had accompanied the others into town for potential work opportunities, he's startled by your gentle greeting, causing him to inadvertently collide with a metal pole, eliciting a pained reaction.

“Tech!” Concerned, you rush to his side, apologising for the unexpected interruption. “I am so, so sorry! I thought you knew I was here?”

With a weak smile of reassurance, Tech brushes off the incident, though his heart races as you approach, your proximity sending a warmth to his cheeks. "I can confirm that I was not aware of your presence, but accidents happen.” Despite his attempt to maintain composure, your tender gesture—placing a hand on his face and tilting his head gently to the side to inspect him—sends a wave of warmth through him, momentarily leaving him flustered. "T-There is nothing to fret over," he added, his voice faltering slightly, though you seemed oblivious to his nervousness.

"No," you said softly, amusement dancing in your eyes as you smiled at him. "But there's nothing wrong with checking you over. Is there?" As you express your concern with a voice so soft and somehow alluring, his resolve wavers, unable to resist your caring demeanor. Succumbing to your gentle attention, he allows you to fuss over him, though he had initially insisted he was fine.

It was almost impossible for Tech not to melt under your gaze. "I suppose not, no.”

“So,” you begin, breaking out of the trance as you step back, “need any help with anything?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Tech, seizing the opportunity, requests your aid in powering up the ship, knowing your familiarity with the process from observing him countless times. Eagerly, you agree, practically bouncing with anticipation at the prospect of taking control of the Marauder's systems.

With a nod of confirmation, Tech passed you his datapad, meticulously detailing the steps for initiating the ship's systems from the pilot's seat.

To his relief, yet not entirely surprised, you flawlessly executed the instructions, following them to the letter and giving him your undivided attention. Another trait he mentally noted as a reason why he might harbor feelings for you.

After explaining over the comm channel that he would wrap up his work outside, Tech took just a few minutes to complete his tasks before returning up the gangplank. Yet, a soft noise caught his attention, causing him to pause in curiosity.

Quietly approaching the cockpit, Tech was taken aback when he heard it—your voice, singing softly. Entranced, he felt as though his entire being had turned to jelly, captivated by the angelic melody that seemed to cast a spell over him. Accompanying the serenade was the gentle hum of music from a makeshift radio, a project that you and Omega had persuaded him to undertake some time ago.

Normally indifferent to such things, Tech found himself utterly enchanted, simply content to stand and watch you. Seated in the pilot's seat with your eyes closed, swinging side to side slowly and lost in your own world, you appeared ethereal. It almost seemed a shame to interrupt you, but Tech couldn't resist the urge to linger a little longer, soaking in the enchanting moment.

As you swung around in the chair a bit too much, you ended up facing Tech directly. “Oh hi Tech!” You grin as you stand and approach him. “Are the repairs done?”

He found himself momentarily frozen, struggling to find his voice. When he finally spoke, it was not in response to your question about the repairs. "I wasn't aware that you could sing well," he remarked, his words lacking their usual technical precision.

Your laughter rang out softly as you tilted your head, teasing him gently. "I wasn't aware that I could either. Are you sure you didn't hit your head too hard?" you joked, though a hint of modesty coloured your words. However, as you noticed the earnestness in Tech's gaze, you began to reconsider.

"You sing beautifully," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your smile faltered slightly, replaced by a look of concern as you approached him. This was not like Tech to be so shy. You reach out to him once more, your touch gentle as you inspected his face for any signs of injury that you may have missed.

Closing his eyes, Tech savoured the sensation of your fingers against his skin, his thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. In a moment of vulnerability, his carefully guarded emotions spilled out before he could stop them. "I have romantic feelings for you."

Your eyes widened slowly, mirroring his realisation, as he watched the weight of his confession settle between you. Dropping your hand and meeting his gaze, you processed his words with a mix of surprise and disbelief. "Wait, what? You serious?"

Tech swallowed hard, his heart racing as he grappled with the consequences of his impulsive admission. "Yes, I am," he affirmed, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him.

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, punctuated only by the soft hum of the ship's systems and the radio that still played in the background. Then, with a deep breath, you spoke again, your expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity. "I... I don't know what to say," you admitted, your words tentative as you processed the revelation.

Tech's gaze remained fixed on you, his vulnerability laid bare in the openness of his confession. "I understand if you need time to think, I… I shall leave you to your thoughts. I hope this has not jeopardised our friendship.” He offered quietly, his tone gentle as he turned to walk away.

“Tech, wait.” As you reached out to stop him, Tech's movements slowed, his gaze shifting to where your hand rested on his wrist. A wave of warmth spread through him as your touch lingered, guiding his attention to the intertwining of your fingers, a simple gesture that held a world of meaning.

"I never expected you to feel the same way," you whispered softly, your voice a gentle caress against the stillness of the cockpit. Tech turned to face you fully, his heart racing as he met your gaze, searching for any hint of uncertainty or hesitation.

His breath caught in his throat as he tried to process your words, his mind reeling with disbelief and hope in equal measure. "'The same way'?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes locked on yours.

You nodded, a tender smile gracing your lips, a smile that seemed to light up the dimly lit space around you. "Of course. Why do you think I always stay behind or bother you with questions about tasks?" you teased, the playful lilt in your voice bringing a sense of ease to Tech's racing thoughts.

A surge of relief washed over him, the weight of uncertainty lifting from his shoulders as he realised the depth of your feelings mirrored his own. "I did not think you would reciprocate your feelings for me. At all. I am not the most ideal—" he began, his words faltering under the weight of vulnerability.

"Don't," you interrupted, your voice firm yet gentle, refusing to let him diminish himself in your eyes. "I think you are perfect."

A soft exhale escaped Tech's lips, his chest tightening with a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. Gently squeezing your hand, he found solace in the warmth of your touch, reassuring him this was not a dream. "This is very gratifying to hear, I confess. But I must admit I do not know where to go from here."

Your eyes sparkled with anticipation, a hint of desire lacing your voice as you leaned in closer, closing the distance between you. "If it's not too soon, may I propose a kiss?"

A soft chuckle escaped Tech's lips, his eyes softening as he drew you nearer, his free hand finding its way to your waist, drawing you into his embrace. "I'd be happy to oblige."

Leaning down, Tech closed the remaining space between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss that spoke volume. The galaxy seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of your touch, the rhythm of your breaths, and the gentle cadence of your shared kiss.

Your hands move to the back of his neck, your body flushed against his eliciting a soft moan of satisfaction. With fingers tangled in his hair and his hand tightening around your waist, Tech felt a sense of completeness wash over him, knowing that he had found something truly special in you. “May I suggest you sing more often by the way?”

“If this is the result I get. Of course.”

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