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xxkissesforchanniexx · 2 months

Note

Best friend Chan who is in love with reader but has a girlfriend?

𝐒𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭?

Pairing: bestfriend!Chan x reader college au Genre: Angst (i cant write that for shit.), fluff, smut Word Count: 4.5k (lord help me) Warnings: Chan's gf is controlling, gf is a pick me, mentions of cheating (not by chan), mentions of college (younger half of members + chan gf + reader), fade to black sexual moment kinda >.>, nosey ass friends >.>, mentions of ateez members, not proofread, fighting >.> DO NOT DO IT, lowkey (highkey) cringe... UHH Idk what else...

A/N: I have exams soon so >.> i won't be taking requests until like May 😭 uhh I might get out the requests I have but until May I won't be accepting any very sorry >.>

You pursed your lips as your best friend's girlfriend, Chaewol, rubbed herself all over your friend, Chan's, arm.

"Chrissy." She said sweetly. "Can we go now?"

Your other friend, Seungmin stared at her, not even trying to hide the look of disgust on his face.

Minho just blinked slowly.

"Babe, we just got here." Chan sighed.

"I know but the waitress keeps giving me dirty looks." She pouted.

Hyunjin, a man who'd grown to be as close as a brother to you, made a face and leaned in close to you whispering, "Maybe if she hadn't been all over Chan as if the waitress wanted to steal him she wouldn't get dirty looks."

You gave your friend a knowing face.

"It's fine Chan." Seungmin smiled, stirring his drink with his straw, "Just go."

Chan looked at you with an apologetic look.

You shrugged. "We'll just try again some other time."

He smiled. "Alright. See you guys." He stood with Chaewol, who gave you the nastiest look as Chan led her out.

"The waitress wasn't even looking." Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She's obviously jealous." Hyunjin huffed. "I would be too if my boyfrie-"

Seungmin elbowed him.

You looked between the two confused. "What?"

"Nothing." They both said.

Minho grabbed. a bunch of tissues from the dispenser in the middle of the table and tried forcing Hyunjin to eat them.

You burst into a fit of laughter as a waiter came over with water to help the spluttering Hyunjin.

Your phone buzzed with a notification from Instagram, you opened it and sucked in a breath at the post. It was of Chan and Chaewol at a bubble tea shop, she was kissing his cheek.

Hyunjin looked at your phone and sighed. "It's fine."

You nodded, "Yeah. Say any of you up for barbecue?"

Seungmin smiled, "Let's go."

It was late now, well past midnight, Chaewol was asleep, and Chan lie awake. He sucked in a breath, rolling onto his side and grabbing his phone, he opened Instagram and squeezed his phone. The picture Chaewol had taken earlier had blown up, "he's so sweet" and "you're so lucky" flooded the comments. He kept scrolling and stopped at a post where you were in a shopping cart and Changbin was pushing you, while Jisung was in a separate cart and Hyunjin struggled to push him. He laughed lightly and paused at a post from 30 minutes ago, that would've been 1am, you were at a table with the other guys. Jeongin was out cold on the table and the rest of them looked drunk stupid except for Minho, probably the driver..

Chan felt his heart clench. When was the last time he'd gone out like that with the rest of you.

He tapped your profile and scrolled through your recent posts, baking with Felix, cooking with Minho, gym day with Han and Changbin, movie night with a friend, a guy, he didn't know..

He stared at the image for a moment before swiping to the next, same guy, laying on his back between your legs, head rested on you stomach, your fingers in his hair, all that was visible, his nose and eyes.

Chan whispered softly, "Who the fuck is that."

Chaewol rolled over, murmuring, "What is it?"

"Nothing." Chan said, "Go back to sleep."

Chan looked through the comments,

Hongjoongisworld 1w Wow, so that's where my snacks went.

HWWAAA 1w Lucky.

former stronk man 1w ;-; why wasn't I invited.

and you tagged Sannie..?

Chan tapped the tag and exhaled slowly at all the pictures of a muscular man with a square jaw and pretty face. So this was Sannie. This was the man doing things he should be, Choi San, who goes to an entirely different school from you.

Chan jumped as suddenly his phone was gone. "Chae-"

"He's hot.." She scrolled through San's profile and hummed. Then her face fell.

Chan leaned over looking at his phone, there you were, phone covering half your face as you took the picture, San behind you, his arm wrapped a little too tight around your waist. Chan took his phone from Chaewol and put it down.

"Go to sleep." He huffed, rolling to face away from her.

Chaewol stared at Chan in the darkness for a long moment before pursing her lips. He's not mad that I called that other guy hot. He's made that Y/N is close to him... And she rolled to face away from Chan, biting her pink nails. What could she do to you?

You were drunk, buzzed, completely inebriated. To the extent Minho had to call someone to pry you off the pole outside of the bar. He'd used your phone and called someone you had labeled as Mr Sannie

Mr Sannie turned out to be someone named Choi San, he was a close friend of yours apparently, and you hugged him poking his face and neck as he half carried, half dragged you to his car.

Minho stared at San for a long time. What is Chan even going to say..

In light of your recent Instagram posts and a long call with Minho, Chan decided to leave Chaewol at home and go hang out with you for the first time in a long while. It was fun, running around being stupid with you. You and Chan were eating ice cream in the park when he asked suddenly.

"Who's San?"

You blinked a bit surprised. "He's a friend of mine."

Chan looked at you before looking back at his ice cream. "Just a friend?"

"Of course." You laughed, it trailed off as you realized he was serious. "Chan, San is just my friend."

Chan looked at you and smiled, "Good."

You didn't exactly know how to respond to that. Good why?

Your phone buzzed and you looked at it, there was a message from Yongbok to the group chat your friend group had.

lixie 3:47pm We're having a party off campus, you senior citizens tryna join in?

He Who Feeds Them Tissues 3:47pm I will if Chan will.

OMG SLAY💅🏻 3:48pm Why are we senior citizens...

Chubby Cheeks 3:48pm Because you've already graduated.

Hangry 3:48pm But we're not senior.

OMG SLAY💅🏻 3:48pm Minho and Chan are.

He Who Feeds Them Tissues 3:47pm You haven't eaten tissues in a while have you Hyunjinnie.

Me 3:49pm You're cooked. 💀

Loaf 3:49pm I'll go. Hyunjin hide.

Channie 3:49pm LOLLL

STAAA 3:49pm OMG GRANDPA LEARNED LINGO

lixie 3:50pm 😧 never thought i'd live to see it.

You giggled and looked at Chan who rolled his eyes.

Your phone buzzed again and Chan peeked over your shoulder, tensing at the sight of Sanniepoo..

Mr Sannie 3:50pm There's a party. Go with me?

Chan looked at you, you hadn't clicked the notification, hesitating.

"Are you going to go?" You asked him.

He bit his lip, "I have to ask Chaewol."

You looked down at your phone and tapped Mr Sannie's chat, typing something. "It's fine." You looked at your phone again and stood, "I have to go meet up with a friend."

Chan opened his mouth to say something, that friend was San, this guy he didn't know, who his own girlfriend thought was hot. You were going to meet up with this guy...

"Bye, Channie." You said before he could get any words out.

And you were gone.

You were sitting in class biting your pen and trying to study in art history before the teacher arrived, when you heard the steps then the whispers. You didn't bother looking up until a pink purse was thrown on your textbook.

You knew that purse, you'd helped Chan pick out that purse for...

"You really think you're funny." Chaewol said. Her group of girls dressed as if this were still high school looked at you with disgusted looks.

You looked up at her. "Am I laughing?"

The chatter in the class died.

"Leave my boyfriend alone." She said.

You raised a brow. "You think I'm messing with Chan?"

"Chris. Doesn't want you."

You stood, "What makes you think I want Chan?"

"Why else would you be all over other guys to get his attention?"

The class gasped.

"I've done a lot of stupid shit, but trying to get a guy's attention is not on that list yet." You said glaring at her.

"You're such a liar!" One of her friends said. "We've seen the pics of you with the guys from KQ Uni."

Chaewol got in your face. "Listen here, Y/N, if you don't leave Chan alone, it's going to be and you."

You sucked in a breath, "Back up."

"If I don't?" She asked.

"How old are you, Chaewol?" You asked irritated.

Chaewol smirked and turned, letting her hair extensions hit you as she grabbed her purse.

You pursed your lips.

You hadn't expected to be greeted by San's car outside of school as you left.

He gave you the corniest smirk as you got in, "I have a surprise for you."

You tilted your head, "What is it?"

He held a out a small box covered in blue velvet and you took it, opening the box you smiled at the sight of a plain black ring band. engraved in silver on the inside was "Dumass #1"

You burst out laughing and put the ring on as San held up his right hand, showing his matching band. You two took several pictures before San started driving.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"You know me so well," you smiled.

You took several more stupid pictures and a few pictures of your food, you were going to post the images but then you remembered what Chaewol had said.

"Why else would you be all over other guys to get his attention?"

You shook your head and pressed post.

"We should go meet the guys, they're out and about today." San hummed.

You nodded, "Okay."

You were laying in bed scrolling when Chan called you, you stared at your phone for a moment before answering. "Helloooo?"

"Uh.."

You heard the shakiness in his voice as he spoke.

"Can you come over? I- Chaewol and I aren't talking." He said sniffing.

"Chan what happened?" You sat up in bed, it wasn't the first time something like this happened...

You were at his house in 20 minutes, staring at your friend as he sniffled and allowed you before hugging you. You patted his back and made him sit as he cried about Chaewol cheating on him... again.

"Am I doing something wrong?" He looked up at you with tears in his eyes.

"Of course not Channie." You smoothed his hair and smiled at him gently. "She's the problem."

He muttered something about not being good at anything and lied down on the couch, resting his head on your lap.

You spent most of the night comforting Chan and relaxed when you got him to go to sleep. You stared at your friend's sleeping face, so content and calm as if in his dreams he'd forget about everything. You smiled slightly and leaned back against the couch falling asleep yourself, sure this would be the last time, positive...

When you woke up Chan wasn't laying on your lap and you assumed he'd gotten up to go do something but as you were about to stand you heard the voices by the door...

"Chris, you know it didn't mean anything. I love you babe." Chaewol sobbed.

"Please don't..." You heard Chan sigh.

"Chan!" She sobbed louder, and you heard her fall to the floor, "Babe it won't happen again! I swear! I love you, please!"

He wouldn't... right?

"Chaewol stand up."

"Not until you forgive me." She sniffed.

You exhaled slowly as Chan told her, "Come back later."

"Chrissy please-"

"I'm serious."

"Fine."

You heard the door close then Chan was back in the living room staring at you.

"Y/N-"

"It's fine. Just enjoy yourself." You pursed your lips and rolled your eyes, before leaving him standing there.

Chan's mouth was half open he was going to say something, he willed the words out. But a small, "Thanks for coming over." Left his lips instead and was met with the door slamming.

Chan kissed Chaewol and muttered, "You did so good for me."

Chaewol lay there on the bed trying to catch her breath, after cleaning up, Chan got into bed and Chaewol was already out cold. He rubbed her head gently, then he got a text from Changbin.

Baby Changbin 7:59pm Did you see what Y/N posted?

Chan opened instagram, there was a bunch of posts with you and a bunch of guys he didn't know, there was more with that Choi San... and he scrolled to this afternoon, food, you two being stupid, then.. a picture of your hand and someone else's, someone Chan could assume was San, wearing matching rings.

Chan bit his lip and looked at his jewelry drawer. He'd stopped wearing the necklace that matched yours because Chaewol thought it was "intrusive" and "a physical show of emotional cheating".

That left one thing...

"Baby." Chan shook Chaewol gently.

"Huh?" She groaned.

"There's a party tomorrow," He muttered.

"I know." She opened her eyes a little.

"Can we go?"

"Yeah whatever, let me sleep..."

Chan lie back and stared at the pictures of you and San.

He opened his chat with Changbin.

Me 8:02pm He goes to KQ Uni?

Baby Changbin 8:02pm They all do

Me 8:03pm We're going to that party.

The day of the party Chan pulled up in front of the old college he once attended, where you and Chaewol currently went. He had come on Chaewol's request, so he could take her to buy a new outfit for the party.

He saw you and Jisung and was about to get out of his car to go talk to you but another car pulled up. Chan froze as he got out of the driver's seat and hugged you then began counting on his fingers while making an exaggerated face. Jisung cackled. You rolled your eyes and pushed San's head, he faked a hurt expression and opened the front passenger side door for you.

Chan squeezed the wheel and this time got out of the his car, he would've approached but the sound of a squeal made him look away from you, Chaewol and her friends came over and she threw herself on him.

She looked in your direction, then made a face, "That's the guy from KQ Uni isn't it?"

Chan didn't answer, eyes glued on the way you and San went back and forth before you finally got into the car and Jisung got in the back seat.

Chaewol shook him slightly. "Chris?"

Chan's eyes met San's as he closed the door. All the man did was smile before getting into his car and driving away taking you with him.

Chaewol squeezed Chan's arm. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all." Chan lied, "Let's go, hm? Gotta make you look even more beautiful."

Chan pulled up to the party with Chaewol and her friends. He got out and opened the door for Chaewol, who quickly scampered to join her other friends. Chan shook his head and started looking around for his friends, then he saw Minho, there was a group of guys with him, Chan could only recognize San.

He approached and San smiled at him, Minho patted Chan on the shoulder and introduced him to the rest of the men. "This is my good friend Chan. Channie, this is San, Seonghwa and Yunho."

Chan nodded and smiled, "Have you seen Y/n?"

"Oh, she ran off with Seungmin somewhere." Minho said. "Probably to get drinks."

"Oh, okay."

San raised a brow at Chan, "You know Y/N?"

"She's my friend from high school." Chan said.

Seonghwa looked between the two sensing the tension and laughed nervously, "I'm going to go.. get us some drinks? Yunho come with me." Seonghwa grabbed Yunho and dragged him away.

MInho stared at the two in shock, "Hey, hey, hey. It's a party, don't look so aggressive.."

San nodded, "Of course."

A moment later, you and Seungmin came bouncing back giggling like little children. Seungmin grabbed Minho, "Hyunjin wants to dance with you." And he dragged him away.

Chan smiled at you. You gave him a hug and poked his nose, "Didn't think you'd make it."

"I'm here." Chan shrugged.

San's mouth fell open dramatically and he made a face at you. "Am I invisible???"

You gave him a side eye. "I saw you earlier."

San clutched his chest, "So cruel..." he faked tears then the two of you started laughing.

Chan felt a tug on his arm, he looked at Chaewol.

"Oh," She looked at you and San.

San looked past you at Chaewol and you turned, pursing your lips ina. tight smile.

"Hi," Chaewol smiled at you and then looked at San, "I'm Chaewol."

"San," He nodded before looking right at Chan as if asking with his eyes So you have a girlfriend... San smiled at you and grabbed you, "Y/N we should dance."

Chan was about to say something but Chaewol pulled him away, "Babe we should go get some drinks."

Chan wanted to pull away he wanted to say no but then.

"Christopher."

He looked at Chaewol and smiled, "Ok."

As the party neared its end, Chan didn't know where Chaewol was, but he was too drunk to wonder. Minho had found him half passed out on the couch and helped him up. Minho helped Chan walk and eventually found you, talking to San's friend Seonghwa.

"He's too buzzed yo drive and Chaewol is no where to be seen." Minho said before carefully passing Chan's weight to you.

You stumbled slightly and somehow managed to support him. Seonghwa helped you before you fell over, you carried Chan to Seonghwa's car and tossed him in the back seat.

Seonghwa drove you to Chan's house and parked before asking, "Are you okay to carry him in alone?"

"Of course, I've got him." You laughed, and woke up a half asleep Chan in the backseat before helping him walk to his front door and convincing him after a bit of bickering to open the door. he trudged into the house and flopped face first onto the couch.

You laughed and he looked at you.

"Are you going?" he asked quietly.

You stopped laughing and nodded.

"Why...?"

"Because I have to go home, Chaewol wouldn't like seeing me here." You said.

Chan sat up and looked at you, "Please don't go."

You stared at him, "Chan-"

Before you could protest he hugged your waist and buried his face in your belly. "Please.

You stood between staring down into his eyes as he looked up at you. "I can't... Chaewol might get angry."

Chan's grip on your relaxed for a brief second. Then it tightened again and he whispered, "I don't care... Please... Stay. I need you to stay."

"You're drunk." You shook your head and started pry yourself away from Chan but he held you tighter.

"Would you be mad at me if I told you I liked you?" He muttered.

"No." You said quietly. "I'd ask you why."

"And if I said I love you?"

You stared at Chan. "You're not thinking straight." You started to pull away but he squeezed you for a moment.

"I don't need to think." He stood up and smiled gently at you, "It feels better if I'm with you." He hugged you completely against him and rested his head on your shoulder.

"Chan I-"

"Don't push me away right now... I might cry if you do." He breathed.

You held him as his body relaxed against yours. And the door opened.

You weren't sure what happened between the door opening and where you were now. What you did know was that you were going to beat the crap out of the person pulling your hair.

Chaewol pulled your hair and screamed at you as her friend tried pulling her back. It was a mess of punches and scratches and hair-pulling. "Boyfriend stealing, home-wrecking BITCH!" Chaewol screamed as she pulled your hair.

"You're the one who can't keep your legs closed!" You shouted, swinging at her.

"Don't come back here! Keep your hands off Chris!" She shouted as Chan pulled you off her and she kicked at you still gripping your hair.

You grasped on her hair as well and pulled out her hair extensions. "You fucked your relationship over yourself! You cheater! You ugly, ungrateful- OOOH!" You threw her extensions in her face as Chan picked you up around the waist and carried you out the door.

"Christopher! Get back here! Bring her back right now!" Chaewol shouted as her friend tried calming her down.

You were trying to get away from Chan as he dumped you on the ground and held you so you wouldn't run back to keep fighting.

"Chan are you even living?!" You shouted. "Howw do you let her treat you like that! It's your house, your money, your LIFE!" You pulled away from him and started walking away.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you back hugging you tightly. "Please." he muttered. "I love you."

You stared blankly for a moment. "Huh?"

"I need you." He pulled back and looked at you.

"You're probably just in shock and drunk."

He shook his head slowly, "I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting and screaming and everything.." He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours. "Please."

And you didn't stop him as he kissed you.

Chaewol was faking tears the following monday in class and everyone was running to her to console her. Except you.

"Chaewol don't cry." Someone said rubbing her shoulder. "What happened?"

"I went home after the p-party. And Ch-Chan and Y/N were all over each other," She sobbed.

The whole class shot you dirty looks, you kept about your business staring at your text book.

"A-And then..." She snuffed. "We had a fight and Chan carried her out." She sobbed dramatically.

You made no move of any kind when some girls came up to you asking if it was true.

"IT GETS WORSE!" Chaewol shrieked. "THAT HOMEWRECKER KISSED HIM OUTSIDE TOO!"

You closed your textbook and got up from your seat, going to leave. As you stepped out of the building Chaewol's friends flocked behind you.

What you hadn't anticipated to see outside was Chan, he leaned against his car looking at his phone. Looking up at the sight of you and the other girls.

"Where's Chaewol?" he asked.

"She's inside crying over your sorry ass." One of her friends spat.

Chan opened his car and pulled out three pink suitcases and set it on the side walk. "Tell her to come get her stuff. If I missed anything she can come get it herself."

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Chaewol's voice came from the front entrance and you turned to see her running out and down the steps where she grabbed Chan. "Chris! Chrissy! Baby! Honey!"

Chan pulled his hand away from hers.

"WHY?!" She screamed, other students were looking through class windows or from where they were walking.

"I'm tired. I'm so tired." Chan said simply and grabbed your hand.

You gasped as he put you in the car. "Chan-" You started as Chaewol tried to open your door.

"Let them try." He said locking the doors and looking at you. "I want to talk to you."

When you were a sophmore in high school and Chan was a senior, you became fast friends. Not that Chan wanted to be your friend, really, he had been hoping to get your number and possible convince you to date him. But he'd failed miserably as Minho told him countless times before.

You'd have been lying if you had said you weren't into him, he was sweet and funny and gorgeous. But when he went to JYPU, he met a girl from another school, she was sweet at first, but when they started dating things didn't work out well. At least for Chan. The first time he'd called you crying saying that he and Chaewol had fought you thought it was normal. But the more it happened, the less normal it seemed to you...

And then he didn't speak to you for months on end... because Chaewol said he couldn't.... Becuase Chaewol didn't trust you.

And when she'd cheated and you suggested breaking up, it wasn't even a day before he'd forgiven her. And you couldn't help but wonder why. Why you were in this car staring at your hands? Why you let him drag you out? Why you let him kiss you?

Chan whispered quietly. "I talked to San."

You looked at him.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not you fau-"

"It is." He rested his head on the steering wheel. "I let Chaewol take over my life, and every time she lied and betrayed and and promised it wouldn't happen again it did... and I let it happen." he sat up and turned to you. "I'm sorry."

You sucked in my breath. "You shouldn't apologize. You couldn't have known better.."

"But I did know better." He looked at you. "I've known better- No, I knew you were better. I just.. I was scared you didn't want me back. Let me tell you when I'm sober. While you'll listen.."

"Channie." You stared at him.

He leaned in. "Can I.." he said quietly.

You nodded slowly and Chan leaned into you, his soft breath against your lips before he kissed you gently. He pulled away and whispered. "I love you."

You looked into his eyes. "I love you too..."

Your phone buzzed in your bag for god knows what time. Chan's lips were on your neck, you whined as he sucked a dark mark to the skin.

You moaned as he rutted against you. Rubbing his tented crotch against your clothed pussy. He pressed his thumb to your lip, "Suck." He muttered.

You opened your mouth and sucked on his thumb obediently. He groaned and pulled your shirt over your head. Chan kissed down your chest and removed your bra before moving lower and pulling off your pants. He kissed your thighs and smiled at the wet spot on your pantie. "This for me?"

He pulled your pantie off and licked a big strip of your pussy and moaned into you. You grabbed his hair.

"This is mine. You hear?" He looked up at you, coffee colored eyes dark and pupils blown wide. "This pussy is mine."

You whimpered and nodded.

"Good girl." He whispered before shoving his tongue into you.

You squealed.

"And the rest was..." You smiled to yourself blushing deeply.

"So then what?" Seonghwa asked as he sipped his coffee.

"You horny little-." San slapped him.

You rolled your eyes and smiled as your phone buzzed with a message from Chan.

Channie🥰 2:14pm I wanna take you out, text me when you get home.

Tags

@juskz

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holylulusworld · 4 months

Text

Valentine reloaded

Summary: Your fiancé breaks your heart on Valentine’s Day out of all days.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, former!(any male character) x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, break-up, mentions/implied cheating, fluff, Bucky being the best, flirting

A different kind of Valentine

Bucky pulled the chair for you and whispered soothing words in your ear. He tried to help you forget about what happened earlier that day. “That’s my favorite restaurant, doll. I hope you like it.”

“Oh, I wanted to try it out for so long. But—” You sighed deeply and shook your head. “I like it already. The ambiance is nice, and I like the cute aprons the waitresses are wearing.”

“You have a good eye for details,” Bucky smirked at your flustered state. “Relax, doll. I won’t bite or eat you alive.”

“Maybe I’m into biting,” you retorted and mirrored his smirk. “You never know about people’s kinks until you end up in bed with them.”

Bucky laughed at your attitude. “I like you already.” He said and sat down to have a look at the menu. “What do you like?”

“I like it spicy, wild but with lots of kissing and gentle touches,” you grinned at Bucky. “OH! You meant the food.”

“You are something else,” Bucky snickered and dropped his eyes to the menu. He’d love to hear more about your preferences in the bedroom but decided against it. You were still hurting and tried to hide the pain another man caused with your cockiness. “I’d love to know everything about you.”

“I think you’d get bored, just like him if you knew everything about me,” you whispered. The light in your eyes and the smirk gone you tried to keep yourself together. “Sorry, I didn’t want to ruin your mood.”

“Doll, you are hurting,” Bucky grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “The man you loved broke your heart and left you for some other girl. You can be sad about it.”

“I don’t want to be sad,” suddenly aware that you are at a fancy restaurant, with a very attractive and nice man you shook your head. “He doesn’t deserve a single tear. Whatever we had, he ruined it and I’m not going to let him win. Let’s eat.”

“Let’s eat, Y/N,” Bucky nodded and squeezed your hand before turning his attention back toward the menu. “I’ll go for meat tonight.”

“I knew you were into some meat,” you winked at Bucky and smirked again. “I’ll go for pasta.”

Bucky nodded and called for the waiter. You ordered your food and released one last sigh. This night should’ve been special for you and your now ex-fiancé. All you wanted was to make him happy. And now you realize, it should’ve been him trying to make you happy for once.

“What do you want for dessert?” Bucky asked, watching you with concern. You were lost in thoughts, and he tried to bring you out of your intrusive thoughts.

“Can you recommend anything?” You asked and looked at Bucky, taking your time to drink his features in. Just now you recognized his eyes, bluer than the ocean you longed to see again for the longest time.

“Doll, you can order whatever your heart desires. My treat,” he softly said. “What do you like? I like the awfully sweet stuff.”

“Sweet,” you giggled. “Really? I thought you were more into the manly kind of dessert.”

“I’m man enough to admit that I like sweet desserts and to caress a woman. All these testosterone-driven wanna-be men are fake. A real man can admit his feelings and make sweet love to a woman.”

“You are laying on thick, huh?” You smiled at Bucky. “I like a man who can manhandle me but make sweet love afterward. The perfect combination of roughness and softness.”

“Y/N, you are making it hard for me to be a gentleman,” Bucky cleared his throat and tried to ignore the desire growing in his pants. He’d love to get to know you better before devouring you.

“Well, you started this, Sir,” you pointed your finger at Bucky. “You cannot talk about your qualities and expect me to not fall for you.”

He chuckled at your words. “I’m warning you, Y/N. If you want me to, I’ll make you fall for me so hard you’ll not even recognize that I put a ring on your finger before you are walking down the aisle.”

“A shotgun wedding then?” You challenge. “I bet you look even better in a smoking. Let me just get a nice dress and we can drive into the sunset.”

“What will you do if I kidnap you and make you my wife?”

You shrugged. “What’s the worst thing that could happen to me? If you wanted to hurt me, you had more than one chance to do so.”

“You are tempting me, doll,” he laughed and tried to play it cool. Bucky was mesmerized by you the moment you slapped him with your clutch. No one ever dared to lay hands on James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone fears the ruthless mobster. “I can still kidnap you after dinner.”

“Good plan, Sir,” you winked at Bucky, feeling a weight get lifted off of your chest. Somehow being around this stranger, you just met helped you forget about your ex-fiancé and his betrayal. “I’m starving and can’t marry a man on an empty stomach.”

“A very good plan, Y/N,” he smiled at you. “Let’s make this dinner worth your time, sweetness.”

Dinner was pleasant. You ate, drank, and chatted with Bucky. Honestly, you didn’t have so much fun for the longest time.

You soon find out that Bucky is easy to talk to. He never judged you or made a face when you ordered the most expensive and delicious dessert you ever ate.

He simply enjoyed your presence and the fact that he made you smile more than once.

When it was time to pay, he refused to let you pay a single buck. It was his pleasure to invite you.

Bucky helped you into your jacket and held the door open for you. You walked next to him, feeling hope bloom in your chest when he suddenly grabbed your hand to hold it.

“That okay?” He murmured. “If not, just say it. I don’t want to overstep.”

“I overstepped by slapping you, Bucky,” you stopped in your tracks to look at him. “You didn’t deserve the slap, or to get yelled at. I’m sorry.”

“Doll, I’ll give you reason in the future to yell at me. Believe me, I’m no saint,” he grinned and wrapped you in a hug. “But I make up for it in the bedroom.”

“Bucky,” you slapped his chest and giggled. “Can we…do this again?” You asked. “I pay next time. I mean…can we go out together or have coffee?”

“We sure will, Y/N,” Bucky said and slung one arm around your shoulder. “Or we could just get married tonight.”

“You’re not funny,” you teased but leaned your head against his shoulder. “Thank you for tonight. You don’t even know me but tried to cheer me up.”

“All for a pretty and sweet dame like you,” he simply said and walked you toward his car. “I’ll drive you home, and make sure you sleep well. I won’t leave you alone tonight.”

Bucky kept his promise and settled on your couch. He knows how hard it is to get your heart broken by the person who should love you the most.

Even though he just met you, Bucky felt responsible for you. That his heart was beating a little too fast close to you didn’t help.

“Fuck,” you sniffled while walking back out of the bedroom, rubbing your tired eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Hey,” Bucky got up from the couch to wrap you in his arms when you started to cry again. “We agreed on not crying over that bastard. Didn’t we?”

You nodded against him. “Yeah.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Can you hold me for a while?” You hid your face in his chest. “Please.”

“Of course, doll.” He softly replied. Bucky wanted to tell you that he would hold you for all your life if you allowed him to do so. “Let’s get you to bed. I won’t leave your side.”

Best Valentine ever

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mobster!bucky barnes #mafia au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #Valentine reloaded

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reallyromealone · 6 months

Note

Since requests are open I hope you mine too much it I put this in sorry, if so could i get Dazai x jessica rabbit male reader where Dazai is like his "roger rabbit" uninterested in others who flock to him for nothing but their looks and absolutely adoring towards Dazai, tall as fuck and sexy feminine that is intimidating?

Title:

Fandom: bungou stray dogs

Pairing: dazai x male reader

Type: fluff

Warnings: reader has a body type

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

(Name) had his target set as he strutted through the street, anyone and everyone stopping to see such a beauty that had everything in the right places, a gaze that could melt the strongest of man into putty.

And it could, people swarming him for his attention but (name) didn't even give them a glance as he continued his mission to find his silly little husband.

"(Naaaame)~!" The handsome man waved, the crowd looking confused at the bandaged man who wandered towards (name) "took you long enough~" the crowd looked agape as the brunet took (name)s hand"excuse me--" someone tried to speak up but the cold expression (name) gave shut them up fast as he let himself be led off by Dazai.

"Whose that?" Atsushi asked Kunikida who sighed "that is (name) Dazai... His husband" the white haired man looked at the pretty man terrified but also facinated as he had Dazai in his palms like putty. It was fascinating to see someone as sophisticated and suave as (name) and dazai who kept making shitty jokes and surprisingly (name) laughed at them, his laugh warm and inviting and perfect.

"Now come Osamu..." (Name) smiled down at his husband, Atsushi now realizing how tall (name) was, a staggering 6'4" compared to dazai who was just shy of 6', he could have anyone yet he chose a suicidal man with a horrible sense of humor.

Loving him despite everything about him.

(Name) hugged and doted on dazai, the former mobster looking smug as hell when he caught gazes of (name)s envious fans.

"So how did you two meet?" Atsushi asked curiously and (name) smiled "I was a singer at a night club, we were just teens but my dad-- the club owner-- thought my voice would be great business... And that's how I met him, he was visiting with some friends..." It was actually for a drug trade but they didn't need to know that tiny detail "you sing?" Kunikida didn't even know this information and (name) smiled as he played with dazais hair "he's the best singer" dazai said smugly as his hand gently caressed (name)s side, the four going into a diner.

"Hi~ can I get your order?" The waitress asked with a flirty grin, (name)s sweet grin to Dazai morphs into a passive look, he never cared for people who flirted with him unless it was his husband "(drink) and what do you want starlight?" (Name) asked dazai who if looks could kill, both him and the waitress would have murdered each other fast.

"I'll just steal from yours~"

(Name) glanced at the waitress and with a civil smile he speaks once more and despite the coldness in his tone, the waitress swoons once more.

Dazai felt for his husband, (name) was never seen for more than his looks by many and it got frustrating, dazai won his heart in his own dazai way.

Shitty pick up lines.

"That's how he got you?" Atsushi and Kunikida were unimpressed as (name) beamed, his beauty making the other patrons swoon "he's the only one who tried to make me laugh, not get in my pants"

The dates he took him on weren't fancy romantic ones but cute dates, once at a cat cafe and another where dazai attempted to make a romantic meal, ending with take out and Dazai sleeping in (name)s shirt.

"You two are weird"

"At least we aren't single ~"

#male reader #x male reader #x reader #reader #bungou stray dogs x male reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x male reader #dazai x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader

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bloodblanks · 1 year

Text

first encounter

ft: eyeless jack, masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, ben drowned, slenderman

author's note: this fanfiction will contain dark content, including kidnapping, stalking, ‘yandere’ tropes, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

eyeless jack

jack isn’t really the type to ‘seek’ out human interaction. in fact, he actively goes out of his way to avoid it. after all, he was a flesh-eating monster.

what would he want with a measly human?

and it wasn’t like humans would want to be around him either.

a blurry picture of his mask was plastered all over the news with headlines saying something about a ‘kidney stealing cannibal’. they didn’t have a nickname for him, not yet.

anyway, imagine his surprise when he sees you out walking alone at night, past curfew. were you stupid or were you just that brave?

for some odd reason, this piqued his curiosity. he usually wouldn’t care. unless it was murder, he wanted nothing to do with humans, but something about you made him want to know more.

maybe it was the hint of tears that glistened on your delicate skin. maybe it was the perfume you wore—oh how you smelled drove him crazy.

you hadn’t noticed his presence; you were too caught up in your own thoughts. the truth was that you were going home after a heated argument with your boyfriend.

he didn’t know that, though. and so, he decided to find out. he tracks your scent, following the trails of it until he finds where you were coming from.

he hears your boyfriend talking on the phone, complaining to someone, probably a friend about the argument the two of you just had. he had sent you home, alone, despite the clear danger just lurking around the corner.

you weren’t stupid, nor were you brave, you were just unlucky.

so was your boyfriend though, because soon enough, he was no longer breathing. jack carefully harvested his organs, as well, but that wasn’t why he died. he died because he had willingly put your life in danger, and something about that did not sit well with jack.

but you wouldn’t know.

you wouldn’t know because he had already made his way to your house, covered in the blood of your former lover. police hadn’t been alerted of the crime yet, he was a stealthy killer, unlike some others. stealthy enough to climb up and through your unlocked window, stealthy enough to remain hidden in your bedroom, patiently waiting.

patiently waiting for you to finish your tv show downstairs and get to bed.

patiently waiting for you to become his, and his only.

jack smiles as he twirls the needle full of sedative in his clawed hands.

oh, you wouldn’t know a thing.

masky

you were the new waitress at the local café, and tim had been going there for a long time. he really liked his coffee.

so when he asks for his coffee today—black, of course—and notices that you’re the one serving it, he finds his heart stopping.

he takes you in, you’re so pretty with the way you smile at him and your voice is like music to his ears, your laugh the soft jingle of bells. he catches a whiff of your scent and you smell so delicious, so delectable.

he sees the way your cheeks flush as you notice that he’s staring, blushing at the attention you’re suddenly given, and he can’t help but grin.

he knows then, that he wants you.

but he doesn’t say it, he doesn’t do anything besides order his coffee. you bring it back, and he sips it slowly, the thought of you plaguing his mind.

no, he doesn’t just want you, he needs you.

and so he waits outside the café, until your shift is over, following you home that day. and the next. and the next. he memorizes your daily routines and your work schedule, taking note of who you talk to, who would notice if you went missing.

you’re all he can think about, the only thing on his mind for the next while. as he watches you while you work, interacting with you ever so often. he can’t get enough of you, and oh he just can’t wait until you’re all his.

sometimes, while you’re working, he spends his time at your home, sifting through your drawers, digging through your laundry. finding your panties and picking them up, bringing them to his face and inhaling your scent.

he doesn’t want to wait any longer. he needed you and he needed you now.

he’s gathered enough information about you from his time stalking you, especially knowing when the best time to take you is. you don’t even realize what’s going on when he comes up behind you, bringing his crowbar down on your head.

it’d be fine to rough you up a little. after all, he’d have all the time in the world to fix you up afterwards.

but it’s okay, he’s made sure to take your favourite things with him.

you’ll settle in nicely, whether you wanted to or not.

he’d make sure of that.

hoodie

brian was a patient man. patient, cold, and calculating. but the one thing he hadn’t accounted for, was his feelings for you.

you were the new librarian at the library he frequented, and the first time you met, you had accidentally bumped into him, dropping your books. he heard your instant panic, gasps, and squeaks of ‘sorry’ as you scrambled to pick up your books. he found that cute, sure, but then when he bent down to pick up a book for you and his hand brushed against the soft, smooth skin of yours, he felt something different ignite in his chest.

he wasn’t sure what it was, but he was curious enough to find out.

he’d watch.

he’d watch you through your windows, or even from inside your house. you’d think you had locked everything, but he always had a way to get past them.

he’d watch you as you showered, blissfully unaware of his presence. he’d watch you as you changed, as you did your mundane everyday tasks. he’d keep watching, observing, making note of everything about you.

what was your favourite food? what did you like to do first thing in the morning? did you prefer coffee or tea?

of course, he’d watch you at work too. he loved the way you smiled at him as you greeted him good morning, chatting with him about something frivolous but those moments were so important to him. he loved the innocent look in your eyes, and he savoured it, because he knew that it wouldn’t last for long.

he could watch you like this for months without you noticing anything was off.

after all, brian really did have the patience of a saint. but brian was no saint, he was far from it

because soon enough your blissful ignorance would be torn away from you, and so would any semblance of a normal life again.

ticci toby

he hated you.

he decided that from the very first day he met you.

toby felt nothing, ever.

he didn’t feel pain. he didn’t feel much sadness, nor most other normal emotions, save for glee. and that was only when he murdered his victims.

but you, you made him feel something different. something dark. something sinister. he could feel a tiny thing inside his chest, twisting and turning, growing larger and larger with each passing day.

just what was that feeling?

he didn’t recognize it; it was foreign to him. it was interrupting his daily tasks; it was causing him to get sloppy with his work.

this was bad. how could you, just a normal ordinary girl cause him to feel this way? how could he allow you to have control over his emotions, without you even being aware of it?

no, he had to stop this all at once.

but how?

he decided then that he would take you. he would take you, and he would study you. and he would figure out just why you made him feel the way he felt.

and oh, he’d make you suffer for it.

jeff the killer

jeff was neither a loser, nor a lover. he was a psychopathic serial killer—a murderer.

he did whatever he pleased, and he got away with it. that’s how it’s always been for him, and you were no exception.

he saw you through your window on one snowy night as he was taking a walk, the frosted over windows not fully blurring over your face as you put on your makeup.

who did makeup at midnight during winter holidays?

but you had a party to attend to, a pre-christmas party with your university friends.

jeff observed you carefully from outside your window, observing and analyzing each of your individual movements.

how cute.

he hadn’t thought of people in this way for a long time, but just seeing you spurred some neglected feelings of lust and desire within him. when he noticed that you were finishing up and about to leave, he made his way into the perfectly positioned bushes surrounding your home. peeking from behind the leaves, seeing you in person just made him realize how breathtaking you were.

he had it confirmed then, that you were what he wanted.

so he rises up from the shadows, slaps his hand over your mouth, effectively muffling any of your screams, and begins dragging you back into the bushes where he came from.

you struggle and flail to no avail, it just excites him more. he liked it when his prey was feisty.

but no, you weren’t just his prey, you were the one for him, and you’d soon know it.

you never made it to the party that night.

ben drowned

another day, another fool that goes on cleverbot to try to talk to him.

he wonders just what they’re thinking—if you knew something was dangerous, why would you try to mess with it?

most of the time he doesn’t bother too much, he just sends them a virus and moves on with his day. but sometimes he’ll satisfy his urges and thoroughly enjoy traumatizing some poor victim for life.

today was one of those days, but when he looked through your camera and saw you, he was stunned. you were exquisite.

oh, ben was stuck in a teenager’s body, but his thoughts and... lusts had matured much past that.

so you wanted to talk to ben drowned?

he’ll grant you your wish.

you notice that your computer has begun glitching. tabs pop in and out. it freezes. it lags. it’ll even show you the blue screen of fucking death every once in a while. during those times, you’d notice the word BEN spelling itself over your screen. you’d only catch it for a brief second, and then it’d disappear as if it was never there to begin with.

but you were nevertheless terrified, and you couldn’t deny it.

you had been stupid. you had been morbidly curious. you did try to look for him, after all. christ, you even typed ‘hi ben :3’ into goddamn cleverbot.

but you must’ve bit off a lot more than you can chew, because all of a sudden, the room temperature drops, goosebumps break out over your skin, and it’s no longer a game.

your computer was talking to you, and you swear you weren’t crazy.

you feel a pair of cold hands slide around your neck from behind, and they squeeze at the sides, restricting the blood flow to your head.

soon you’ll fall unconscious, and ben will take you with him.

you’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?

slenderman

many, many people pass by the forest, pass by where he resides.

he looks at each and every one of them with a watchful eye, but they usually don’t hold his attention for long.

sometimes, a child or two will go missing in his forest. of course, it’d be because of him. he needed something to feed from, after all, and adults just didn’t cut it for him.

so why, then, was he so interested in you?

you weren’t a child; it surely wasn’t for food.

what else could it be?

ah, but it could only be one thing—the centuries old, eldritch being has finally found attraction in someone. in all those years of apathetic existence, for the first time he felt something in his heart, and it was for you.

he felt conflicted, at first.

just what was he supposed to do with a fragile human like you?

all he’d ever known was to instill fear into his victims, but he didn’t want to scare you. he wanted you to feel the same beautiful feeling that he felt towards you, for him. so he wouldn’t terrorize you. he wouldn’t give you any headaches, any static, any nosebleeds.

he wouldn’t cause you any pain, nor the slightest hint of discomfort. only turn the lights off as he faded everything to black, catching your falling form in his long, outstretched arms.

your next walk in the forest turned out to be your last, but it’s okay.

he’d keep you safe, he’d keep you happy.

as long as you were with him, everything would be okay.

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mmgwritings · 8 months

Text

RUIN ME, RUIN US

Characters: Kaz Brekker / Dreg ! Reader

Prompts: “I… I want you to touch me,” Kaz admits, while staring up at the ceiling, "There" cheeks reddening in an increasing show of embarrassment. (prompt created by @dumplingsjinson)

Warnings: Smut; Canon divergence; Obviously, I didn't proofread again; Masturbation; Oral Sex; NSFW; Really Long Text Sorry!

The streets were packed with people. Dazzled tourists, ravkan peasants, privileged and neglected children fought for space in the alleys with merchants, prostitutes and pickpockets - all the same, all too happy with the promises of the holiday. Nachtspel was an event during the Kerch year, in Ketterdam the party lasted for more than a week if you looked for the right club to spend money on frivolous pleasures.

This year people commented that the festival would last a month due to the visit of King Nikolai of Ravka, a tall man with a sarcastic smile who every now and then Y/N would bump into in the Slat - a place where kings didn't belong, that much she knew... at least not kings with a good reputation. The visit of the Ravkans was a promise of prosperity, King Nikolai and his entourage were in Ketterdam to bargain a spice trade line with the Council of Tides, a way of linking Ravka, Kerch and Shu Han in a triple alliance.

But it's interesting to think that King Nikolai is smart enough to also bargain with the real monarch of Kerch: Kaz Brekker. Y/N had not yet been in Ketterdam years ago when the Fold was destroyed, when a certain Ravkan prince needed the help of a small gang of thieves. But she heard about all this from Jesper, the Dregs' sharpshooter and part of Kaz's small retinue: the Crows. She also heard about the former king of Ketterdam, Pekka Rollins, and how Kaz made him beg, how he took everything from Rollins: clubs, indentures, friends in politics. Everything.

Well, almost everything. Kaz Brekker remains a mystery.

Y/N met Kaz a few days after arriving in Ketterdam, when he walked into the teashop she tended to. He needed a new waitress for the Crow Club, a seemingly simple job if the additional skill of the position wasn't listening to the conversations of some customers. She accepted, and here she is three years later. And she's dangerously involved with Kaz.

It all started very simply, they barely realized that they were spending too much time together. Y/N in the lounge, taking care of drinks or delivering envelopes to Kaz's office, or sharing a quiet living room in the Slat after everyone went to sleep.

One thing led to another over the years. A whispered conversation after the two drank too much, a longing look exchanged as they left for their posts at the Crow Club, a sleepless night on the building's terrace. But the moment they really realized, admitted, actually, having feelings for each other was when they realized that they needed each other.

For Y/N, their relationship was experienced at two peaks: the calm and comfort of knowing that they both loved each other and the turbulence and insecurity when dealing with Kaz's traumas. Y/N saw the way Jesper and Wylan, Nina and Matthias' relationship bothered Kaz, he wanted to be able to offer Y/N the same level of intimacy.

And that's why they've fought countless times. Silent wars where Kaz reluctantly tried to break up and Y/N pretended not to hear her boyfriend's stupid arguments. When Kaz tried to get away from her in vain, because Y/N always found a way to bother his heart with smiles, jokes and words of affection.

Kaz knew Y/N was patient. She was the best in his world. But, he knew that he needed to become a better man for her. What kind of relationship is this where he couldn't touch her without almost throwing up, fainting?

Y/N realized, just like she notices all the little things that make Kaz human, that he was trying to be more physical. Sometimes he would touch her hand gently, his fingertips gliding across her palm as if she were made of the most fragile glass. Other times he sat next to her on the window sill, too close that she felt his heat. Or when he suddenly decided that they would share the room, the same bed.

That was a difficult moment: Kaz gradually tried to stay close to her, until finally he managed to rest his arm on her throughout the night. But, all of this was done when he was fully dressed. Long-sleeved shirt, thick pants.

The kisses? Impossible. These took longer to go from merely touching lips to touching tongues. Let alone get lost in the moment. A kiss from Y/N would leave Kaz feverish, on the precipice between fainting from anxiety or lust. Sometimes he didn't even know if his trembling hands were a good or bad thing.

But it's over. Kaz, when properly warned, could get carried away. Y/N and Kaz occasionally had make-out sessions, one that left them panting, sweaty and craving for more. Wishing they were like all the other normal people, the ones they heard sighing in the dark alleys when they came back late at night from some mission. Those who occasionally locked themselves in the Crow Club bathroom and came out with a flushed face.

Would today be anything different? Y/N wondered as she went up to her room. Earlier, when she was still in stock at the Crow Club, Kaz spent time with her keeping her company while she counted the products. Y/N could tell he was a little nervous, but she didn't pressure him into saying anything.

So, he finally said a curt "Meet me in the bedroom later" and left for the office before Y/N could ask anything. And here she was, walking into the room and finding the sight of a Kaz Brekker sitting by the window, his eyes vacant into the night.

"Hey, how are you? Where's everyone?" Y/N said, taking off her coat and placing it on the trunk at the foot of the bed. When she arrived at Slat she noticed that it was strangely empty, even for a festival the house always had one or two people in the common rooms.

"Out" muttered Kaz "I gave them the night off." Then he finally looked at Y/N and there was something strange, it was as if he had never seen her in his life, as if he didn't know how to approach her.

"Cool… But, what happened to you? Did you want to tell me something?" Y/N said, approaching him slowly. Kaz sighed and held out his arms, an invitation for her to touch him, to hug him.

Y/N smiled, a gesture mirrored by Kaz, before surrendering to her arms. She was a little shorter than him, barely reaching her shoulders, the perfect height to fit in. Kaz placed a small kiss above her ear, a kiss that ended up trailing to her temple, her cheek, her jaw, the corners of her lips.

And then the famine came. The desire for more, much more. Kaz kissed Y/N's lips, a warm touch. Her hands, which had been clasped behind Kaz's back, moved up to his arms.

And then Kaz's tongue touched Y/N's parted lips strongly, a request, a promise. His tongue was everywhere: first sliding tentatively across her lips, then massaging, then sucking. It was so much more than they'd tried before, Y/N thought, as he nibbled on her bottom lip, pulling her closer into his arms, squeezing as if to make sure she was real.

Y/N didn't need to think much, she didn't want to stop and ask Kaz if everything was okay because, a second later, she felt one of his hands on her ass, groping. They had too many clothes on. Kaz wore a dark, velvety green vest over a white shirt with long sleeves buttoned over the wrist. The pants were black and made of thick material, the ones he usually wears in the invention. Y/N was already wearing a long blouse, the pants she wore were masculine enough to not receive more than two glances from Crow Club customers. But now, she wished there weren't so many layers between them, that the cloths would disappear.

Y/N's hands came up to Kaz's face with a caress, she wanted more than anything to slide her fingers through his hair… so she did, and he allowed it. His kisses were making her dizzy, fervent.

"Kaz," she whispered as he occupied his lips with a new target, her neck. The hands on her ass tensing in search of more, more closeness. "Slow down, Kaz," she protested.

Kaz listened and then stopped, looked at her with dark eyes, his face flushed and his lips red… lips that Y/N would never get tired of kissing. "I want you" he said "I want you to kiss me until you're sick of it, I want everything… more"

Y/N's heart lost a beat and then pulsed quickly. That was the kind of thing he said in her delirium, when she dreamed and woke up wishing she could just embrace the man who slept next to her. What else could she do upon hearing this request? She kissed him like she had never kissed him before, her fingers threading through his hair, down his neck, to his face.

A sloppy kiss because they've never done it before. Hands roaming each other's bodies more than they dared before. Kaz was all hands. Tightly squeezing her ass or reaching up to her waist, pulling her closer.

Then, one of Kaz's hands went to Y/N's hair, deftly removing the ribbon that held the curls in a messy braid, while his other hand went down to her right thigh, lifting her leg slightly so that he could get closer... Saints, she wanted to be able to melt and merge with Kaz.

Y/N could barely breathe between the kisses, Kaz's lips were all she wanted, she wanted them all over her body, for him to mark her. Then he pulled her towards the bed, bumping into the table, tripping over the carpet and laughing a little at his clumsiness.

She sat on the bed and looked at Kaz, her face flushed and a slight smile on her face. The street light that entered the room bathed him in a warm, golden light, Kaz had never seemed more alive than at that moment. He was the most beautiful person Y/N had ever seen in her life. He looked so carefree as he rested one of his knees between Y/N's legs, his hand tenderly caressing her face and brushing away stray strands of hair from the front of her forehead.

"You're so beautiful", Kaz murmured, his lips resting a soft peck on the tip of Y/N's nose.

"I can say the same", said Y/N. Pulling him to the middle of the bed so he was on top of her. "There are so many beautiful things I can tell you now. But none of them compare to you, Kaz Rietveld."

She kissed his cheek, then his nose, his chin, his mouth. Her hand, the one that wasn't busy cupping Kaz's face, slid down his back, feeling the muscles beneath his clothes tense slightly, then, at the base of his spine, she pushed him slowly until their body was pressed together. Too many clothes, Y/N thought.

Kaz must have had the same thought, because he deftly slipped his fingers between the top buttons of Y/N's blouse. Beneath it there was nothing but skin flushed with desire.

Well, they've seen a bit of each other's nudity over the years they've shared a room, but it's never been this explicit. So raw. Kaz's eyes slid over Y/N's breasts, his fingers following his gaze to her nipples, touching tentatively, seeing how far they could both go. When her only response was a sigh of pleasure, Kaz opened the rest of her blouse and clumsily pulled the fabric from her body.

Mouths, hands, sighs, moans. Kaz offered and received caresses as he rested his mouth on Y/N's nipples, his warm tongue sliding, sucking and nibbling mercilessly. Y/N's hands didn't know where to hold on in the material world, they were in his hair, keeping him as close as possible, on his shoulders, on his arms, pulling him for more.

Kaz realized that his favorite sound was her moans. It was a sound that reverberated through his body like an overwhelming storm that made his heart palpitate heavily, that made his brain melt and that somehow, caused a pleasant pressure to rest in his groin.

Y/N was lost, she didn't know she was so sensitive there. Or maybe this is just Kaz's effect, his talent. When his mouth was on her nipples everything was perfect and horrible, she felt out of control, completely at Kaz's mercy.

When he stopped kissing her was the moment she hated him, but when he looked at her with a shy look on her face, Y/N loved him more than anything. What happened? Y/N wanted to ask, but there was no time, Kaz let out a low, guttural sound when he moved over Y/N, she felt, through all the layers of clothes that still separated them, Kaz's cock pressed against her.

A shiver ran up her spine. Y/N kissed him hard, tongue lashing over Kaz's lips, her nails scratching his arms, pulling him, feeling him. A wave of pleasure coursed through her body as her sensitive nipples came into contact with the raised embroidery of Kaz's vest. She opened her legs wider to accommodate him between her and Kaz's hand went to her ass, pulling her towards his crotch.

Suddenly, Y/N pushed Kaz away. Turning his body so she was on top, she then quickly took off her pants. She's sick of so many clothes.

Kaz was in awe, looking at her body as if it were some kind of miracle, as if some saint was descending from heaven with an offer too good to be true. Or like a demon, leading him to a path of no return. For the first time in his life he felt nothing bad happening, no repulsion, no aversion at the thought of touching someone. He just wanted more from her, wanted to take everything from her, touch her everywhere, but more than anything, he wanted her to touch him.

Their relationship was always smooth, they never talked about sex or about anything other than kisses, but they both wanted the same feeling of fulfillment that all other couples had. So, it was not without shyness that Kaz, completely vulnerable to Y/N, looked at her with pious eyes and pleaded.

"I... I want you to touch me," Kaz admits, while staring up at the ceiling, "There" cheeks reddening in an increasing show of embarrassment.

It was selfish of him to ask that. It was malicious, negligent, narcissistic, asking for pleasure when she was the one who should be adored. But Kaz was never much for bending, he was never pious.

Little did he know that it was what Y/N wanted most.

She smiled and kissed Kaz, her light fingers opening the buttons of his pants, slipping down to his cock. The feeling was very different from what she had imagined, Kaz was warm, soft, firm and… big. Very.

Kaz let out a strangled sound, his hands that rested on her waist fluttered slightly. "Everything is fine?" she asked, the movements of her hand stopped completely, but she didn't remove it.

"Yes," he sighed, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Y/N then moved her hand slightly up and down, gently squeezing the base, sliding the tip of her thumb over the tip of his dick. Feeling the cum spread in his hand. Kaz was discreet, he was trying not to get carried away, she realized, but she could hear the light moans that escaped his lips, she could tell that he was really enjoying it when he tensed his jaw, when he squeezed her ass.

Daring the limits, Y/N lowered Kaz's pants further, finally seeing him completely. It was definitely not what she had imagined. Kaz was very thick, the tip was a dark pink color that glistened with cum and had some prominent veins. She wondered what it would feel like in her mouth.

When Y/N gave Kaz a peck on the crotch, just above the pubic hair line, she looked at him as if asking if she could continue. His eyes were moist, as if it was a difficult task to contain all of his impulses.

“Please,” he begged, one hand caressing Y/N’s cheek. "Please don't stop" he moaned.

She then tried putting just the tip of his dick in her mouth, her tongue testing the taste of his cum, then, tentatively, she saw how much it all fit.

It wasn't much. She didn't have that much experience, she couldn't take his entire dick in her mouth without feeling like she might choke. So, she took turns sucking and licking, from the base to the tip, then, when she saw that he liked it, she held his balls and massaged them lightly. But she never stopped moving her hand in a tempting gesture.

Kaz was getting carried away. When he became very impatient with Y/n's slow movements he begged to be rough, when he felt her tongue passing over the tip, sucking, and looking at him, he let the moans, previously low, sound at ease. Damn anyone who listens.

Please, please, please, he said. Hip thrusting, his dick entering her mouth even more. Beg, Y/N wanted to say, beg for more and maybe I'll let you cum, fill my mouth with it, let you see how you ruin me.

So, when she felt his hip thrusts become more sloppy, when his moans were lost between his panting, Y/N sucked hard on Kaz's cock and felt, in the back of her throat, his cum pooling on her tongue, sliding down her chin.

When his orgasm ended, he was panting and feverish, his hair messy, beads of sweat sliding down his forehead, his cheeks pink. He was a beautiful sight. He was a beautiful mess.

As for Y/N, she was strangely shy under Kaz's longing gaze, feeling cum slide down her chin and drip onto her breasts. "Beautiful" Kaz said, standing up and placing a sloppy kiss on her lips, his tempting tongue lashing into her mouth, both of them tasting him.

"All mine", he whispered, as he pulled her to saddle him. Y/N felt his dick brush against her pussy. "And I want all of you. I want you to ruin me, ruin us."

#mmgwbrekker #six of crows #grishaverse #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker smut #shadow and bone #kaz brekker imagine #kinktober #kaz brekker kinktober

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katiexpunk · 7 months

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Diner Girl | Pairing Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

Summary: You frequent your local dinner pretty often, not just because you love their pancakes with extra syrup, but because your best friend Sydney is a waitress there. You've heard her talk about her hot boss, Joel, every now and then but you've never had the pleasure of meeting him; that was until one morning, after getting unexpectedly laid off, you decided to drown your feels in syrup and love from your bestie. Joel offers you a job, and he shows you the ropes in more ways than one. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~7.3K Warnings: Pining, flirting, hard core tension, age gap (unspecified, reader is 30), 2000s style (needs a TW lol), 2000s texting, Joel is a little rough/bossy, Joel is actually readers boss, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, folks, or don't idk you're not gonna listen to me anyways), no creampie (a katiexpunk first, weird, I know), rough blow job, oral (m and female receiving) pet names, cum swallowing, praise kink, inappropriate use of syrup, one tit slap, Joel rips readers uniform off of her, readers former boss is an asshole, reader gets fired from her job, eating/references to food, did I already say flirting. Joel and reader fuck on a table in the diner. References to a health scares (for readers coworker). A bit of a dom/sub dynamic. Fluff. Porn with plot. Joel calls reader slut twice. Hilary Duff/A Cinderella Story gets mentioned, as does Jennifer Coolidge yelling for more salmon. Authors Note: The fact that I'm posting this doesn't feel real. This idea has been in my brain for so long, and I am happy and relieved to have it out in the world. Special thank you to @endlessthxxghts for holding my balls, brainstorming with me, and beta'ing this. And another thank you to @sydneyinacoma, my inspiration for readers bestie -- thank you for being my slutty, smutty, sister and for saving my ass with the first blowjob scene; I owe you one. ILY both. And to @hier--soir, Jessie, your beautiful way of storytelling inspires me and I often find myself HWJWTS (How Would Jessie Write This Smut). Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

November 2004

The blaring sound of your alarm disrupts your slumber, and you jolt awake with a sense of urgency. Shit. You’re gonna be late. Again.

You stumble through your routine. You splash cold water on your face in an attempt to remove the pillow marks left behind on your cheek and smear on a mixture of lotion and face oil the saleswoman swears will make you look like you’re in your 20s again. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that that was only a year ago. You can see why she would have thought you were older as you look at your reflection in the mirror and the dim light from your tiny 1950s bathroom illuminates the bags under your eyes.

God, you’re tired. Truthfully, you’ve been tired for months now; no amount of caffeine can seem to make up for your lack of sleep due to the demands of finishing up your Master’s and your boss who keeps you late at work what seems like every night now.

You hastily get dressed and attempt to gather your thoughts. As you step outside into the cool November morning air, you bristle at the wind cooling the still-damp hairs that frame your face. You unlock the door to your beater and slip the keys into the engine. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach when a soft click, click, click, click noise reverberates through the air; the stubborn engine refusing to turn over.

Shit. Not again. No!

Frustration mounts with each futile attempt to bring the engine to life. You slam your palms against the cool leather of your steering wheel, a long sigh escapes your lungs and your forehead meets the top of the wheel in defeat.

You reach into your purse for your phone and quickly compose a message to your boss, explaining the situation. "Car won't start. Trying to figure it out. Going to be late. Sorry." With a sigh, you hit send, hoping for a sympathetic response.

The minutes crawl by as you anxiously await a reply. The familiar chime of your phone signals a message, and you eagerly check it. However, the words that flash across the screen only deepen your frustration: "This is unacceptable. You’ve already been warned twice. Don’t bother coming in, and consider this your termination."

The shock of the message hits you like a ton of bricks.

Sure, you had been late a few times in the past year, but you figured your staying late almost every night would make up for it. Maybe if he paid a little more you could afford to fix your piece of shit car and you wouldn’t be late in the first place.

Your eyes sting with disbelief, and your hands tremble as you clutch the phone. Anger and desperation dance the waltz in your mind as you fight to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

You sit in your silent car, the quiet sounds of morning make you feel frozen in time, unsure of what to do or where to go from here.

You look back down at your phone again and type out a quick message to your best friend Sydney.

“U working this am?” before you can even put the phone down, it’s chirping to life with her response.

“Hi babes! I am. R u?” her response reads.

You don’t want to give her the full details over text – too much to type out – and instead, you settle on a short response.

“No. Long story. Coming in 2 c u.”

“Kk! C u soon <3”

Your day was quite possibly off to the shittiest start ever, but you know there are three remedies to that situation.

Your bestie, pancakes, and syrup.

Lots and lots of fucking syrup.

++++

The early morning sunlight spills through the diner's large windows, casting a warm glow on the worn checkered tiles. The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee envelops the air, creating a comforting ambiance that feels like a hug. The clinking of cutlery against plates and the low hum of conversations provide a soothing soundtrack to the chaos of your morning.

Your usual booth is taken, so you settle for a seat at the bar. The stool is a little wobbly, but you have a nice view of the bustling kitchen and the seats next to you are empty.

You watch Sydney pour a coffee refill for the older couple at the end of the bar before heading over to you. As she approaches, her infectious smile illuminates the space. Her apron, adorned with a patchwork of food stains and coffee spills, hints at the countless meals she’s already served this morning.

"Morning, sunshine! You’re here early, you miss me?” she greets, grabbing a mug from the counter behind her before placing it in front of you and pouring you a steaming cup of coffee.

You let out a little chuckle at her remark, knowing you just saw her last night.

You grab the mug in front of you with both hands, wishing you could shrink yourself and jump into the hot liquid like a hot tub; your bones cold from your long walk to the diner. Stupid car.

"No really, what’s up? Everything okay?” she asks, a hint of concern behind her words.

“Not really. My car wouldn’t start this morning again, and John fired me after I told him I was gonna be late,” you respond, feeling the warmth of your frustration beginning to build in your chest once more.

“What an asshole,” Sydney responds, “I’m sorry that happened, babe. He’s a real piece of work, you’re better off without him,” she continues.

“I guess so. But I need a job, Syd. I don’t know what I’m gonna do now,” you respond, defeated. Your cheeks begin to heat and you think you might actually cry this time. You move the menu out in front of you on the counter to the side, and Sydney picks it up and removes the pen from behind her ear.

“I could talk to Joel,” she offers, scribbling your order down on her notepad. You don’t have to tell her, she already knows what this situation calls for – pancakes with a lot of fucking syrup.

“Joel?” you ask, leaning over the counter and looking both ways before you whisper to her, “as in the hot boss you won’t shut up about, Joel?”

She lets out a little chuckle and you see a little twinkle of bashfulness in her eyes.

“Yes, my ridiculously hot, mostly unreadable, but hot, boss Joel,” she replies. “Martha quit last week, something about wanting to spend more time with her grandkids, so we’re down a waitress.”

You look at her face, pondering her offer as if you really have another option at the moment.

“He’s here this morning, he’s in the back doing paperwork – I can go grab him and have him talk to you if ya want,” she says, nodding to the woman who just sat down at the bar, giving her a soft be right there hun.

“Plus, it’ll be so fun to work together!” she says, her voice more energetic this time, preparing to go back into customer service mode.

“I – yeah, alright, yes, I’ll talk to him,” you agree.

She does a little jump and says “YAY!” and then gives you a big smile before pouncing off to greet her next customer. Where does she find the energy?

As you wait for your emotional pancakes to arrive, you cradle your mug, the warmth seeping into your chilled skin, while you gaze through the window into the kitchen. Amidst the orchestrated dance of chefs and waitstaff, there stands a figure that looks like he doesn’t belong in the greasy kitchen of a diner – a towering presence, broad and resolute. His flannel shirt clings to the sculpted contours of his muscles and the determined furrow of his brow accentuates the intensity he’s directing to the clipboard in his hand.

That’s him. That’s gotta be the ridiculously hot boss. That’s gotta be Joel, right? You feel a little tickle in your belly at the thought.

You try not to stare too much, not wanting to be obvious, but like passing a car wreck on the freeway, you can’t seem to look away. You smile at the way he bites the cap of the pen in his mouth, only dropping it on occasion to make little notes or checkmarks. As you look at him doing his work, his eyes flutter up and meet yours. And in that brief moment, you feel a connection. The corners of his lips curl into a friendly smile as he stares back at you briefly, before once again dropping his gaze to the papers in front of him. Sydney did say he was unreadable; now you see why.

Before you can process further, Sydney returns with your stack of pancakes and places them in front of you. “Thanks, can I have some syr–,” but before you can continue, she’s placing the container of the sweet liquid in front of you with a wink.

As you dive into your comfort food, savoring each bite, the door to the kitchen swings open, and Joel emerges. Tall and confident, he approaches your seat, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Of course, he would come to talk to you now, right as you have a giant bite of pancake shoved into your mouth like an animal. The cherry on top of your already shit day.

"Sydney's been raving about you," he admits, a friendly smirk on his face. "Say’s you’re lookin’ for some work,” his voice is low and even, and his eyes briefly scan over the patrons before coming back to land on your face. For as hot as Sydney has been describing him as over the past few months, she forgot to mention how fucking sexy he sounds.

You stare back at him, gulping down the remaining pancake in your mouth.

Joel's eyes are trained on your face. What he really wanted to say was Sydney’s been raving about you, but she didn’t tell me how pretty you are. That was all the more apparent to him now that he sees you up close.

“We’re down a waitress, and we could use someone with your taste in breakfast and impeccable timing, if you’re interested?” he says, watching you fidget with the napkin in your lap.

“I – yes, yes I am very interested. I’ve never been a waitress, but I have great attention to detail and I’m sure I could pick it up quickly with the right guidance,” you say, straightening your posture, attempting to look more composed than he has you feeling right now.

“Well great, we’ll have you trained up in no time,” he says, his gaze lingers on your features for a beat longer than expected before he swivels on his heels, heading back to the kitchen. However, after a few steps, he abruptly pauses, pivoting back around with a thoughtful expression, as if there’s more he wants to share.

“Oops, my bad, sweetheart. Almost forgot my manners. I’m Joel, by the way. This is my diner,” he says, gesturing with one hand as if to show the space to you like you were seeing it for the first time, before offering his large hand toward you. You meet it with your own, giving him a firm shake while sharing your name.

"Can you start tomorrow?" he asks, and you respond with a satisfied "mhmm," sealing the deal with a wink from Joel. "Great – be here around seven in the morning then, and we’ll get cha all trained up" he adds with a grin, one that teeters the line between professional and flirtatious.

And just like that, in the midst of your syrup-drenched, emotionally charged morning you let out your first real smile of the day.

So there were four remedies to your situation.

Your bestie, pancakes, syrup, and Joel.

You finish your remaining pancake, letting your mind wander off, secretly hoping Joel will be showing you the ropes in more ways than one.

++++

The next morning, you get to the diner just as the sun is starting to rise, and you can't help but draw a parallel to Hilary Duff in A Cinderella Story, except now you’re the Diner Girl.

While you may not be gliding around on gaudy rollerskates, and Jennifer Coolidge isn't screaming at you “MORE SALMON! We need more Salmon!” there's an undeniable charm to the whole scenario that makes you chuckle. The uniform Sydney handed you on your way out may not be the stuff of fairytale gowns, but the fabric that clings to your skin is a tangible reminder that you're stepping into a different narrative today, a narrative where you’re employed and your boss isn’t a total jerk.

As you step into the diner, the familiar calms your nerves a bit. Joel, seemingly in tune with your arrival, glances up from behind the counter and shoots you a playful wink. Does he wink at all his employees?

"Morning, sunshine! Ready for your grand debut?" he teases, flashing a bright smile coupled with an adorable set of dimples. You manage a shy smile in response, feeling nervous once again, but it has nothing to do with learning your new job and all to do with the beautiful man in front of you that you’ll be close to the entire day.

Joel wastes no time guiding you through the diner's rhythm. With each task, he effortlessly blends instructions with charming banter, making the learning process feel less like work and more like a shared secret between the two of you.

"Here's where the magic happens," he says, gesturing to the row of gleaming coffee machines. "And trust me, making a perfect cup is an art; takes a lot of love."

“Aren’t these like super-fast automatic coffee brewers? You just load the beans and water and hit start?”

"Alright, smartass," he retorts, a playful glint in his eyes, "Yeah, they are, but you gotta press that button with love, baby. That's what makes it good."

Your laughter harmonizes with his, and you catch the infectious mirth in his expression – one hand on his hip, the other casually resting on the counter. Your eyes trace the veins on his forearms, distinctly visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves, and you can't help but admire the effortless confidence he exudes.

“Do it with love. I understand,” you respond.

“Good girl,” he responds. “Alright, next up – silverware rollin’, ya ready?” he asks.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you reply, a playful smile dancing on your lips, as you follow him to the back of the kitchen to grab a tray of freshly washed flatware. Returning to the dining room, he leads you to an empty booth tucked away from the prying eyes of coworkers, giving you the first taste of true solitude with him all morning.

"Now, watch and learn," he says, demonstrating a silverware roll that rivals any seasoned server. "The key is in the wrist action. It's all about finesse."

You mimic his movements, chuckling when your first attempt doesn't quite match his polished technique. He leans in a little closer, his warmth and encouragement almost palpable.

"See, you've got the basics down. But let me show you a little trick," he says, guiding your hand with his own. The close proximity sends a delicious shiver down your spine, and you can't help but revel in the extra attention to detail in his guidance. As he imparts his expertise, the thought of him taking charge and instructing you in other ways goes straight to your core.

“You’re a natural,” Joel says, responding to your growing stack of rolled silverware.

"You like taking orders?" he inquires, his gaze intense as he places the second-to-last rolled set in the pile you both created, and you complete your own. The implication behind his words hits you, and your eyes widen with surprise.

"Do I what?" you ask, a hint of uncertainty in your voice, unsure if your mind has ventured too far into the realm of innuendo to fully grasp his meaning.

"Taking orders – you seem like you'd be good at it," he says, pausing deliberately, well aware that he's causing a stir within you.

"You know, from customers?" he adds with a smirk, putting you out of your misery.

“Oh. Oh – uh, well, I’m not sure, I’ve never tried it,” you respond.

“First time for everything, darlin’. We can practice. I’ll be the customer, and you can take my order.”

He flashes you a charming smile, making it hard to resist. "Alright," you agree with a shy grin, readying your notepad. You start “Good morning, Sir! Can I get you starte–”

"Now, sweetheart, we've gotta do this right – stand up now, take my order properly," he interrupts, a playful tone in his voice. You shoot him a teasing side-eye, and he smirks, attempting to hide it by bringing his hand to his beard.

You rise and straighten your apron, and turn to face him at the table.

“Good morning, Sir –” you begin again, “what can I get started for you?”

"I'll have the classic bacon and eggs, toast on the side, and a steaming cup of your finest brew. Oh, and a side of your million-dollar smile, please."

You laugh at the last part, realizing this is exactly the kind of practice you need. "Got it, one bacon and eggs, toast, coffee, and a million-dollar smile," you repeat, jotting it down.

Joel nods approvingly. "You're a quick learner. Now, let's spice it up a bit. What if I want my eggs sunny-side-up, the toast lightly buttered, and the coffee extra strong?"

You take a moment to absorb the details, determined not to miss anything. "Sunny-side-up eggs, lightly buttered toast, and extra strong coffee," you recite confidently.

Joel grins. "Not bad, darlin’ – you’re a good listener.”

“Maybe you’re just a good teacher,” you playfully retort.

You don’t see it, but Joel palms himself beneath the denim of his jeans, attempting to adjust from the growing lack of space in them.

As the morning rolls into the afternoon, you finish out the rest of your shift at the diner and make the walk back home.

As you lay in bed, you try to rationalize all of your flirting with Joel.

He’s just nice. A Southern gentleman. He’s probably like this with all of his employees.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel lies in his own bed, also attempting to rationalize all of his flirting with you. He knows it’s wrong, but that doesn’t stop him from taking his heavy cock in hand to the thought of you that night.

++++

After nearly a month of seamlessly navigating the diner routine, you've become a fixture in the cozy ambiance. The playful banter between you and Joel has escalated to shameless flirting – a subtle touch from a passed laminated menu, an intentionally clumsy moment with the cash register as an excuse to get a little closer, and the unmistakable sensation of his gaze lingering on you as you lean over to wipe down the booths.

You even find yourself yelling out “Corner!” less than you should, hoping it might lead you to accidentally bump into him.

It's not exactly backbreaking labor, though it can take a toll on you physically. But you find yourself enjoying it—the thrill of pushing through a lengthy shift, the rush that accompanies swift movements and juggling various tasks during the bustling hours, the familiar faces of regulars who now greet you by name, and the bonus of spending extra time with Sydney.

For now, it's fulfilling enough. However, the more moments you share with Joel, the more it dawns on you that, at least when it comes to him, "enough" might never quite be sufficient.

++++

You normally work M-F, during the morning shift, and you’re grateful for the extra time on the weekends. You’re starting to feel like you might not actually need that facial oil now that you’re getting adequate rest. Take that, Mary Kay.

One Saturday night, as you’re sitting on your couch watching Kill Bill, your phone buzzes with an unfamiliar number, and curiosity pulls you in. Joel’s husky voice on the line tells you who it is, but he introduces himself anyway.

“Hey, darlin’ – it’s Joel. Listen, uh, I know it’s your day off but I was wondering if you might be able to come in to work tonight?” he asks.

Without pausing to let you respond, he lays it on thick, making a persuasive attempt to nudge you into saying yes, "The other servers are all tied up, and Suzanne had to call out, something about Mike not feeling right tonight, tight chest and all, so I told her to make sure he gets checked out."

"Oh no, that's awful. Yes, yes, of course, Joel. I'll be there in 15," you reply, hearing a sigh of relief on the other end.

"See you soon," he says.

"Oh? You're coming in, too?" you ask, trying not to sound overly excited.

"Well, someone's gotta make the food, right?" A little chuckle carries through the phone.

You remember it now; he had shared with you during that first day that working in the kitchen at night was one of the reasons he decided to take over owning the diner, his decision in part was fueled by his love of cooking. “Helps me remember why I started doing this in the first place," he had said. You were listening, but you were also distracted by him fidgeting with his coffee cup, watching him make small circles around the rim of it.

++++

As the night descends, the diner transforms. The hustle of the day gives way to an intimate, dimly lit ambiance. Joel, donned in his chef's coat, greets you with a sly grin, "Well, look who's gracing the night shift. It's just you and me tonight, darlin'."

"Think we can handle it?" you respond, not really talking about the dinner rush, and he knows it.

The air crackles with sexual tension as you and Joel maneuver through the shift. The need between you two is palpable; a desire only one thing could satiate, a hunger no amount of breakfast food could resolve.

The hours tick by, and the tile inside is illuminated by the soft glow of the neon sign outside. With the last order served, you both lean against the counter, a comfortable silence enveloping you.

Joel breaks it with a casual remark, "Hungry?"

"Starving,” you respond a playful edge to your voice, biting your lip. Joel’s eyes go dark as he stares at your plump flesh.

You are hungry, but not for food.

++++

Joel guides you to the prep station for a crash course on chicken and waffles.

“Now, I know you’re a pancake kinda girl, but trust me darlin’ when I say these chicken and waffles will make you fall in love,” he says. Yeah, they just might.

Joel, sleeves rolled up and a chef's jacket in hand, hands it over with a grin that hints at more than just a cooking lesson. The oversized jacket drapes over you as he gives a quick once-over. He chuckles, “you look cute like this, sweetheart,” he says before he heads to the fridge for supplies.

Returning with a bunch of ingredients, he starts showing you the ropes of making waffle batter. "You like to cook?” he asks, pouring flour into a bowl. His hands move with ease, adding baking powder, a pinch of salt, and a dash of sugar. You crack the eggs into the mix, and he throws in some vanilla extract, giving the batter a fragrant twist.

“I mean, I don’t not like to cook, but I can’t say I’m very good at it. I think I’m better with instruction,” you answer. You notice his gaze deepen, going darker almost, as he hands you a whisk. “Mix it up then. Give it your all,” he says, and you start blending.

As you stir the batter, you sense Joel subtly adjusting his position until he's right behind you. He towers over you from behind. His arms gently encircle your body, and his backside hovers just an inch away from yours. He’s so close you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "The secret," he murmurs in a low, almost whispered tone near your ear, "is to whisk it just enough, not too much. The air bubbles make it fluffy." His voice carries a blend of guidance and desire.

His hand moves up to sweep your hair away from your neck, causing your mixing to slow as his fingertips graze the sensitive skin. Goosebumps erupt across your entire body, and he presses his lips to the soft skin behind your ear.

“Joel,” you whimper, tilting your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck.

“Keep mixin’ darlin,” he commands. You try, but the distraction of him on you makes you forget the simple action altogether.

You close the gap between your bodies and take a small step back so your backside is firmly pressed against him. You let out a gasp as you feel the thick shape of him on your ass. He continues to nip at your neck, grazing his teeth along the sensitive skin there. You grab the counter in a poor attempt to steady yourself, and press into him harder, and he responds pinning your hips to the counter until his growing cock is all the more noticeable.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a little hiss. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to get you alone like this – haven’t been able to get it out of my head.” A soft moan escapes you, and in the blink of an eye, his hands find your hips. Before you can react, he swiftly turns you around to face him.

“You like being told what to do, baby? I’ll tell you what to do, but I’m not gonna tell you twice,” Joel says as his large palm comes up to hold the column of your throat, his thumb just under your jaw, tilting you up to face him.

“So if I tell you to get on your knees, you’re gonna do it,” he says, voice low. “If I tell you to look at me, you’re gonna do it,” he continues, “and if I tell you to swallow, you’re gonna do it like the perfect little slut I know you are,” he says, dipping his face lower to you. You wonder if he can feel your pulse quickening under his hand, caught in a lusty daze fueled by hot breath and the sight of his blown pupils.

“Tell me you understand,” he commands, not really questioning.

“Yes - yeah, I understand,” you say, tightening your grip on his forearm, feeling the strength of his muscles still grasping you, pulling you closer to him.

You think for a moment he might kiss you, his lips barely an inch from yours, but he doesn’t.

“Good girl,” he praises, “since I know you’re so good at practicing, let’s do it again,” he suggests, releasing his grip on you.

“Get on your fucking knees, baby.”

You fall to your knees and feel the hard, cold tile against your bare calves. You position yourself beneath him and fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to give you further instructions. He reaches down and brings his pointer finger down to lift your chin up to face him. He runs his thumb over your lips.

“So pretty like this, baby.” He thinks you're pretty.

As he releases you, you take that as permission and reach out to undo the buckle of his belt. You fumble with the cool metal momentarily, until it’s completely unbuckled before you begin to work with the zipper on his pants. You tug both his pants and his underwear down just below his hips, and his thick length springs to attention.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the size of him. He’s big. His cock is already at full attention, red and weeping. Your mouth waters at the sight of it. You look up at him, silently asking for permission to touch him, and he nods. “All yours’” he says, and your hand comes to wrap around the base of him. The thought of all of him being yours stirs something low in your belly.

Before you can put him in your mouth, he grabs your wrist to pull you back up to your feet.

“Too many clothes, sweetheart. Need to see those fuckin’ tits,” he growls, tearing your uniform off, almost bare save for your bra. You’re gonna need a new one. His eyes are glued to your chest, admiring the red bra you’ve been hiding under your uniform.

“As much as I like the way this looks on, I’d like it a helluva lot better off,” he says while hastily unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the kitchen floor. Your nipples harden in the cool air, entrancing Joel. “Gorgeous fuckin’ tits,” swatting your left one, in awe of the way it bounced on impact.

“Back on your knees,” ordering you once again. You obey without hesitation, almost automatically.

You stroke along his length, feeling the silky warmth of his skin, the heat, and the thick veins that add texture to each pass of your palm. You pause at the top of him and let out a little squeeze, until a small bead of precum forms at the tip. You lap it up, and Joel lets out a groan and his hands fall to grab the back of your neck.

“Keep that mouth wide open for me, baby.” I’ll do anything you want as long as you call me baby, you reply in your head.

You part your lips and tease your tongue around and then start sucking on the tip, slowly taking more in until you’re sucking on the full head of his cock and your tongue is whirling around it. Joel’s grip on the back of your neck tightens, and he gently cants his hips forward, urging you to take more of him.

You’re barely halfway down and the back of his cock is already on your throat. You start bobbing your head up and down, and Joel mutters a little curse under his breath and bites down on his lip.

“Such a good girl f’me, takin’ this cock down your sweet little throat,” you moan around him, the sound reverberating against him, “yeah, this what you wanted, hmm? Needed your throat fucked like a slut?”

Your thighs clench together, a syrupy mess of your own slick smears on your skin, and his filthy words add to the roaring ache in your cunt. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel as you notice him stiffen just a little more. How is that even possible?

You pick up your pace, pushing yourself to take more of him. He thrusts shallow but firmly, meeting your movements along his shaft.

“Tha’s it baby, just like that…” his groans are lecherous, coupled with the profane sounds of you gagging on his cock. You’d listen to that on a loop if you could.

He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls you off him. There will be plenty of opportunities for him to fill your mouth up, but right now, he has other priorities. He does take an extra moment to watch you wipe the saliva and precum from your mouth with the back of your hand. It’s a vulgar sight and he commits it to memory.

He helps you to your feet, and your knees on fire from the harshness of the floor. You’ll pay for it later, but for now, the soreness is a small price to pay for the exhilaration you’re experiencing with your super hot, hung boss.

Without warning, he scoops you up in his brawny arms and carries you off to the closest booth adjacent to the kitchen. With your back flat on the table, you feel the cool laminate tabletop on your skin and it adds a stark contrast to the warmth of Joel’s chest pressed against yours moments ago.

Your upper back is on the small table, leaving just enough room for your hips to slightly dangle off the edge, Joel’s hips between your legs. Your head ghosts the condiment bottles at the edge and he holds you in place there, teasing you.

He pauses to admire the way you look up at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your perky tits slightly falling to the side, a little sheen of sweat on your chest. He pauses to admire the way you still look flustered, but composed, knowing he’s going to fuck every ounce of that right out of you.

Joel wants to untangle you like a knotted ball of yarn, he wants to claim ownership of every inch of your body, and he doesn’t want to wait any longer.

He drops to his own knees this time, hooking his thumbs into your underwear to pull them down with him.. His face immediately finds your cunt, and he wastes no time before he lays a trail of soft kisses over your wet and waiting folds. He starts slow, a kiss here, a lap there, and eventually begins to pick up his pace.

He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your hips cant up at the welcomed intrusion and your back arches, unable to stay on the table. You feel his hot breath on your cunt, and let out a small mmm at the way he presses his forearm across your lower half to lower you back down to the table, to keep you still.

His mouth returns to your clit to work you, and he adds another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so fucking close – your slow crawl to the cliff of your orgasm turns into a full-on sprint.

You’re so close, and he can tell by the way your body tenses under him.

“Please,” you moan. “Please – ugh, neeeeed to come, please let me come,” you beg.

“Just a little longer, baby. You can come when I say you can.” Joel says, voice slightly muffed against your wet skin.

He presses his lips against your clit, but doesn’t give you enough tongue to get you where you need to go. You’re already so swollen, sensitive – you know all you’ll need is a little suck and you’ll be gone.

You don’t know how much longer you can stave off your pleasure, but you want to be good for him, to listen, to obey.

He knows you want to come, that’s obvious, and god does he want to know what you look like when you do, to feel it, to be the reason; but still, he continues to tease and let it build. Your face twists, your jaw goes slack, and your eyes close and it all but screams I’m close, make me come, make me come.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and he grazes it with the top of his tongue and closes around you. You flutter your eyes closed. You warn him that you’re close, “Joel, fuck, please let me come. Please, please, please,” you rasp out your pleas with a symphony of moans.

Satisfied with your pleading, he decides to take mercy on you. He looks up at you through his thick lashes, drinking in the way he has you melting, the way he has you begging.

“You can come, baby. Go ahead, want you to soak my face,” he says, voice hoarse but still smooth like velvet.

You obey and feel the taste of your sweet release rush through you like a warm summer breeze on a hot day. Your vision goes white, and your whole body tenses with pleasure as he works you through it.

“Fuck, so pretty with you come f’me, baby. Being such a good girl, listening to my every command,” he says and lifts his head. His dilated pupils tell you he’s high on it; on you.

Your slick shines on his beard, illuminated by the atmospheric glow of the streetlights peering into the dark diner. He looks at you, breath slightly ragged, and brings his fingers to his lips to smear the remaining slick from his face onto them, and he pops his finger in his mouth like he’s savoring the last bite of the best meal he’s ever had.

“Taste so fuckin’ delicious, baby. Must be from all that syrup you eat.”

And shit, it’s filthy. He looks indecent in the most delectable of ways.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he says, grabbing his thick cock in hand and lining the head of it up against your wet and waiting hole, pausing there before pressing in. You let out a little whine.

‘Shh, baby,” he coos, “‘m gonna give you what you need, don’t worry,” he says. Both of his hands come to your hips, surely leaving little bruises under his strong grip. Your slick makes it easy for him to bury himself in you to the hilt, even with the size of him. Your greedy cunt taking every inch of him like it’s your fucking job, like it was made for him.

He pauses for a moment to give you a second to adjust; you feel so full, you swear you feel him in your lungs.

He begins a relentless pace, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, the obscene sounds of the clapping noises, a wet and wanton song made as a result of your wetness keys you up.

“Fuck, yes, Joel – YES,” you cry.

“Yeah? Say thank you to me, baby. Say thank you for giving you this cock, for fucking you dumb,” he commands.

Thank you – thrust – tha - thrust – thank you, fuck, thrust.

He fucks into you so hard that your head hits the condiments, knocking them over. The ketchup bottle falls, the sugar packets scatter, and the syrup tips over. A slight ooze of the viscous substance starts to pool on the table and get into your hair, but you don’t care, this feels too good to care.

Just as you’re about to come, Joel notices the pool of auburn liquid running over the table and onto the red booth below.

“Tsk, tsk, baby – makin’ a mess – creaming on my cock, and spilling syrup on the floor,” he says, continuing his pace. You feel your walls clench around him. Just as quickly as he entered, he retreats, and you whine at the loss. “Get up,” he says.

You do as he says and rise onto your legs. They’re shakey like Jell-O. You watch as he reaches over the table and grabs the sticky glass bottle from the table.

“On your knees again,” he asks of you for the third time tonight. You pause, your body sore and your knees aching. “You hear me, baby? I said get on your knees.”

You do as he says, and kneel before him, once again worshiping at the altar of the man above you.

You look up at him with bated breath and watch him use his free hand to rip off his shirt and throw it onto the booth beside him.

“Come closer,” he says, “and open,” you kneel before him with your mouth open, your inviting tongue waiting to be used. He uses his hand to grab the base of his heavy cock, and he taps it on your widespread tongue a few times before holding the syrup bottle high in the air, centering it above his cock and your open mouth.

You watch with wide eyes as he tips the bottle over just a smidge, and a long, thin, sticky stream of syrup begins to rain down onto his hardness, falling off the sides of it, down to the floor, and all over your chin.

“Clean me up, baby,” he says, and your lips close around him. You begin to suck and lick every inch of him, savoring the golden liquid that creates a tantalizing mix of sweetness from the sugar and salt from his pre-cum. You hum as you work him, savoring every bit, and eventually, the skin on his cock is syrup free and you take him at a more consistent pace. You hear Joel groan, and it encourages you to take him deeper, harder, faster.

You look up at him through wet lashes, tears forming in the corners of them, as he holds your now sticky hair into a makeshift ponytail and uses your mouth.

“Such a good hole for me,” he says, “so fucking good, baby, you’re so perfect.”

You let him chase his high, and open wider when you see his jaw tighten and his tight core tense, the grip on your hair pulling tighter.

“You’re gonna swallow,” he says. “All of it,” he commands, and his jaw goes slack and he releases a rush of warm cum down your throat. It tastes musky, but a little drop of syrup you missed during your cleaning job makes it sweeter.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he says, panting heavily, holding you on his cock as he throbs out the final pumps of his release.

He lets go of your hair and you pop off of him and use your fingers to clean off the rest of the syrup from your chin and smile up at him. God, you must look like a wreck.

He extends out his large palm in a gesture to help you off the floor. As you rise to stand, his fingers find the underside of your jaw and he tilts you up to look at him.

He looks at you, the darkness behind his eyes has been replaced with someone else; pride.

“You really are a good listener, baby.” He says. He gazes down at you, his thumb delicately tracing the contour of your jaw. This moment feels significant.

Leaning in, he tenderly places his lips on yours. The sensation takes your breath away, and as he intensifies the kiss, you willingly welcome the exploration of his tongue, relishing the warmth and savoring his taste. Tonight, you've experienced every other aspect of him, but in this moment time seems to stretch as your lips remain locked.

As he breaks the kiss, a contented smile graces your face, and you feel as if you could float away.

“Now really, let’s eat some food,” he says, letting a low chuckle escape from his lips, “I still owe you some chicken and waffles.”

“And you owe me a new uniform,” you say, grabbing his hand to follow him to the kitchen, totally naked.

Joel actually teaches you how to make the meal this time. He offers you another chef's coat to cover your body, but he doesn’t let you keep it on for long. As your breakfast-dinner cooks, he hoists you up on the counter and eats you again. He makes you orgasm more times in one night than you think you ever have with any of your previous partners.

You were right in your initial thinking. Enough will never be enough when it comes to Joel.

You’ll always want more.

More of this, and more of him.

And the one thing that’s the most certain is that you’ll most definitely want more fucking syrup.

Good thing you work at a diner.

END

Bonus Drabble Coming Soon: How will Sydney react when you tell her about your steamy night with Joel?

Tagging moots and those who showed interest in the preview: @nosesitter @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81 @lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lovebandrry @dugiioh @frodo-jojo @ghostwritesthings @planet-marz1 @josephquinnswhore @cinnamon-gurlll @dragonfire @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring @darkheartgatita @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @dins-riduur-anthe

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #syrup #early 2000s #pedro pascal

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