#saving this to show to my boss thank you.
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When Did Blitzø Fall In Love With Stolas?
I just re-watched Helluva Boss S1 so i could numb the pain from Full Moon (it didn't work i'm not okay) and I had a few thought about Blitzø.
We all know Blitzø has a massive crush on Stolas and that he KNOWS that. Or at least he knows that he likes Stolas enough to enjoy his company and pay attention to certain things he likes even if they are just based on sex that is still a lot of effort for BLITZØ of all ppl bc he barely shows that level of affection to anyone except Loona.
But this begs the question; when did Blitzø realize he was falling in love with Stolas?
Looking at timelines he had to have starting falling for him before this picture was taken, because no way Blitzø would have taken that picture if he know that he wanted Stolas in a "more than sex" way. The way Blitzø's head works is that even if he can't admit to Stolas that he likes him (for fear of ruining their arrangement and any sort of "normalcy" that comes with it as well as fear of ruining Stolas' life) so taking and revisiting this picture is a way to feel his feelings without having to confront them head-on (see my post on Stolas symbolizing blitzø with the moon).
So now that we've established that it had to have happened before Ozzie's but also during one of their "meet-ups". When could that have been? Oh wait...
Blitzø fell in love with Stolas off-screen. During the post-TruthSeekers "thank you for the rescue" thing. If you think about it, this makes perfect sense. This wasn't a planned meet-up where Blitzø had to be reminded of Stolas' power over his business, it was Blitzø CHOICE to fuck him that night and Stolas did not have any tangible leverage over that decision. Additionally, Blitzø has never been protected ot cared for in the right way, he has always had to protect himself either because there was nobody to back him up or he didn't want to feel dependent or weak. He is constantly in survival mode and prides himself on protecting others.
The day TruthSeekers took place, Blitzø was protected, Blitzø was cared for. By Stolas of all people. Stolas saved him and the people Blitzø cares about when they were in a tough spot but also didn't make him feel weak by interfering immediately (before I.M.P got to kick most of D.H.O.R.K's ass). Stolas' timing was perfect and made Blitzø realize how nice it was to be taken care of, if you don't believe me:
So. Blitzø was falling in love with him JUST before Ozzie's....
That's why Blitzø almost cried when he dropped of Stolas at his house. Because he was finally learning to love again, and look where that got him....
IM REALLY SORRY STOLITZ SHIPPERS IDK WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME
#helluva boss#helluva boss stolitz#helluva boss stolas#helluva boss full moon#helluva blitzo#helluva boss blitzo#helluva stolas#hellaverse#blitzø#helluva boss truth seekers#helluva boss ozzie#stolas x blitz#stolitz#stolas#blitzo#helluva boss season 2#full moon episode
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• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Seungmin x you
Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Jeongin
genre: friend to (implied) lovers
warnings: non graphic shitty date, nothing too specific
These have been the worst two weeks of your life. And it’s not just to say it. Sure, maybe other people had it worse, but yours was bad!
First: your boss blamed you for his mistakes in front of all your colleagues.
Second: you were so mad at him, you drank a bit too much (but apparently not enough to forget it) and decided it was the perfect moment to finally confess your love to your friend Seungmin.
He rejected you.
Something about being friends and not being the right moment and honestly? You stopped listening after having grasped the direction of his answer. Being rejected is the worst, and also the reason why you waited almost ten months to confess.
Third: you decided to go out with the first guy you met on a dating app just to try and forget about Seungmin and the awkward tension following your confession. And this is just the cherry on top: the guy was such an asshole you literally had to ran away from him and, in doing so, you:
1. Lost your purse
2. Fell down the stairs, slippery from the rain, spraining your ankle
3. Had to contact the last person you wanted to talk to, asking for his help.
So you’re now waiting for Seungmin, sitting at a small coffee shop, your penchant for keeping spare change on all your coats’ pockets is finally paying you back and you have just enough to order a scorching hot coffee to warm yourself.
Your ankle hurts and you hit your elbow on the stairs but you’re too scared to check it out. All this is less worse than the fact that you had to call him. Calling Seungmin is humiliating, but all your other friends are either out of town or too far to help you.
As you go to check the time on your phone, only a black display stares back at you. Because of course you forgot to charge your phone, why would something be in your favor? Luckily, it’s only a few minutes later when you see Seungmin enter the coffee shop.
“Sorry I had to call you”, you say as a greeting.
“You keep apologizing, it’s dumb.” Of course it is. Taking a deep breath you stand up trying not to put too much weight on your bad ankle and start walking towards the door. After just a couple of steps, Seungmin’s hand is on your arm, stopping you. “If you hurt your ankle, we should go to the hospital.”
“No, no thanks. A trip to the hospital is the last thing I need, right now. I just need my bed and to forget the last two weeks.” You try to walk but he’s holding you again, preventing you from going far.
“At least don’t walk on it.”
“Am I supposed to jump on my good foot? I’m wearing high heels.” You show him your heeled boots but it’s not enough to deter him.
“Just-“ he doesn’t finish his sentence but bends a little and in a second he scoops you up, one arm behind your knees and one behind your back. Your crush, to whom you confessed just a few days ago, just picked you up bridal style.
Nor your complaints or your attempts of being put down are effective, and Seungmin carries you to his car, setting you with your feet back on the ground just outside the car door. God, this is so awkward.
Once in the car, he’s quiet but you’re so tense you just open your mouth and start speaking.
“I’m sorry I texted you,” you apologize again, “I just-“
“How did you hurt your ankle?”
“I fell from the stairs, they were slippery from the rain.”
“Were you rushing somewhere?”
This is weird. You haven’t talked to him since the whole fiasco. You used to talk to him daily, silly conversations and serious talks; and now you haven’t talked for almost 10 days and you miss him so much, but how are you supposed to act after he rejected you?
“I was running away, actually.”
“From?” He’s driving, but every now and then he turns his eyes on you.
“From a guy I was on a date with.”
He wants to press down on the brakes right there and then, wants to scream at you and pinch whoever this guy is. But he knows it’s his fault. At least partially. He did reject you. True, he did it because you confessed and all he could think about was all the time he spent crushing on you (maybe even loving you?) and how it would inevitably end up with him hurting you, because you deserve better and he’s not boyfriend material. How can he give you what you deserve? He’s busy, dating openly would be dangerous for you, and you’re so pretty it hurts.
“Did he- what did he do?”
“Nothing that requires calling the police. But he was not a nice guy and to get out I left my bag there.”
“Are you okay? Ankle excluded.”
“Yes. Thanks for picking me up.” Why is it so hard? “I-“ You what? You miss him? You want him? You wanna go back to when you hadn’t confessed?
With a dry exhale, he puts his blinkers on and tersely pulls over. He turns off the car and turns to face you properly, a serious expression on his pretty face.
“You went on a date and the guy was so terrible you had to run away. And got hurt in the process. How is this okay?”
“Min, it’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, it is!” He sounds frustrated, and maybe it's because he had to come pick you up.
“Sorry you had to come pic-“
“STOP FUCKING SAY SORRY!” He never screams at you, not when you’re serious. He rubs his eyes and exhales loudly. “Where did you even meet this guy?”
“On a dating app.”
“Why the fuck are you on a dating app?”
“Because that’s how normal people meet someone who they might like.”
“But you already like someone.” Your blood turns cold, you weren’t expecting Seungmin to mention it. Is he mocking you? Wasn't it enough to be rejected?
“Seungmin.”
“You already like someone so why are you on a dating app?”
“To forget that someone I like, since it’s unreciprocated.” You mutter, annoyed by this conversation but not knowing how to stop it either.
“Why are you being so stubborn now?”
“I’m the one being stubborn? What do you want from me Seungmin!”
“Not to give up so fucking easily, maybe!”
“Why? So I have to suffer even more?” You shake your head and, in another situation, you’d leave this car. “You don’t like me like that, you made that clear.”
“I just said it because I didn’t know what to say!” He’s loud, like he never is. “I can’t give you what you deserve, but I don’t want you to want other men.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Very mature, Min.”
“Just don’t date.” He says it like it explains everything.
“Why?”
“Because!”
“Fuck, I can’t do this now. Can you just take me home please?”
“How are you gonna go in with no keys?”
“Fuck! Fuck fuck.” How did you not think about that? You have to go back and hope your bag hasn't been stolen. Your money’s probably gone, but maybe they left the keys. You rest your forehead against the cold window and take a deep breath.
“You can stay with me.” Seungmin offers, and his voice is so careful and you’re so tired, you nod and answer with a small yes.
The ride to Seungmin’s is quiet, and so is the time spent doing your night time routine. Brushing your teeth side by side, washing your face, trying to be quiet while letting him help you move from one room to another. You did it together lots of times, but now everything is so awkward. You’re about to ask him for some clothes to sleep in when he speaks.
“When I said I couldn’t be with you was because I am not fit to be a boyfriend and you deserve someone who gives all he has to make you happy and I don’t know if I can be that person. Not because I don’t like you, I really like you. I have feelings for you. Not the friend kinda feelings. The wanting-to-kiss-you feelings. And I don’t want you to have feelings for someone else. Can you- Can you wait and give me some time?”
You weren’t expecting his confession, this is a surprise for you. And it’s stupid that he thinks he doesn’t deserve you, cause he’s perfect in your eyes, but you’re not gonna belittle his worries.
“This is the most I’ve ever heard you talk uninterrupted.”
“This is all you have to say??”
“You can have all the time you want, Seungminnie. Just promise to talk to me when you reach a decision.” He nods solemnly, and then he gives you a small smile.
Neither of you knows what will happen, but for now you’ll cuddle together under the duvet and leave for tomorrow your worries.
(In a week, he tells you he’ll do anything necessary to prevent you from liking other guys. Which includes being your boyfriend and work hard to deserve your feeling. You tell him it’s stupid, because he already deserves them. He doesn’t believe you, but he kisses you anyway. It’s the best kiss of your life and when you call him your boyfriend for the first time, his smile is so bright you might have to invest on some good sunglasses.)
#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#bluejutdae#stray kids imagines#skz#seungmin x you#seungmin x reader#seungmin fanfic#seungmin fluff
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oh my, oh my. I adored your fics where reader is smitten over reid with his glasses and then where reid is smitten with reader in her glasses! can I request something similar with hotch, where he's the one flustered - or, at least, his reaction lol - by reader wearing her glasses for the first time? <3
thank you for your request <3 fem
“Hotch, can I ask you something?”
He hadn’t heard you knock, lost in thought behind his desk, and he knows you won’t begrudge him for failing to look up. “Of course,” he says.
“I went to the eye doctor a few days ago and everything was fine, but she said my contacts are gonna keep degrading my eye health, apparently, if I keep wearing them. Do you think I could wear my glasses in the field?”
Hotch takes a moment for your asking to catch up with him, desperately printing the last of his thoughts into a consult note. He makes a spelling mistake in his rush. Frowning, he crosses it out and corrects it neatly. “Uh, you want to start wearing glasses in the field?”
“Yeah. Do you think that would work?”
“I don’t see why not.” He stops himself firmly, before he can call you honey. Hotch doesn’t want to patronise or condescend you even in his thoughts, but he has to remark to himself that you sound adorably over-concerned. “Reid picks and chooses when he wears his own glasses, and he’s never…”
He’d finally managed to tear his gaze from his desk and found you standing further away than he’d thought, in a black pencil skirt that flares out gently at the end like a flower bulb, a neat shirt with a triangular collar showcasing just a slip of your chest and the small silver necklace you wear. None of this is unusual, Hotch is used to finding you charming and lovely by now, it’s the glasses that shock him. He hadn’t realised you’d actually be wearing them.
They’re not thick nor too thin, simple black frames made of a translucent plastic. They’re glasses like any other, and Hotch can’t diagnose his own reaction to it. Perhaps it’s how they sit on your nose, or the cutesying effect they give your expression. They make your eyes look a little darker than usual. They’re everything.
“Hotch?” you ask.
“He’s never had any problems,” Hotch finishes, ever so slightly breathless, his hands falling to his thighs.
“They look stupid.”
“What?”
You raise the back of your hand to your cheek and press it there with fingers curled loosely inward, “I know they look silly, I haven’t worn them in a while, but my eyes hurt everyday with those contacts, no matter how much saline I use–”
“No,” he says. He stands, and he swallows against nothing. It’s embarrassing for his age. “They don’t look silly. You should wear whatever makes you most comfortable.”
“I knew they looked silly,” you say again, turning toward the door. “Sir, you just stared at me. I never should’ve let Spencer tell me they looked cute.”
“They do look cute,” Hotch says, rounding his desk. He stands in front of it rather than crowd you at the door.
He isn’t unaware of his own influence. His moving has stopped you from leaving. His compliment, especially one far from his usual professionalism, sticks you like a flytrap.
“You look just as nice with them as you do without them,” he furthers. “I’ve never seen you wear them before.”
“Well, I was always underwhelming, growing up. I didn’t think glasses helped.”
“Underwhelming?” he asks.
You smile like you’ve caught him. He doesn’t like to be caught, and he turns away to pretend to look for something, but he’s saved by another presence on the landing.
“Oh my god,” Morgan says, looking you up and down with an affirmative, sweet appreciation. Morgan might make a show of it sometimes, but he’s genuine as he continues, “Sweetheart, what am I gonna do with you?”
“They’re not strange?” you ask.
“Is that what the boss man said?”
You look back at Hotch bashfully, and that look alone catches him all over again. Morgan watches through the doorway and he knows he’s doomed —Hotch’s feelings are, for that split-second, plain as day.
“He didn’t say they were strange, no,” you say gently.
Hotch wonders if he should insist on contacts after all. “They’re suitable for every day.”
“Suitable,” Morgan says.
Hotch gives him a you’re-pushing-it squint and everyone decides they have things to be doing, leaving him alone to panic. (He doesn’t panic, he’s not the type, he just remembers your new look and feels his heart give irregular pangs a few times an hour for the rest of the afternoon.)
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 ⁰⁰ ׄ ⑅ TW ˖ ֺ ᰮ
— DESCRIPTION ੭ just some fluff of toto forever adoring y/n and has been saving her a seat for years.
— PAIRING ੭ toto wolff x platonic!reader.
— FILE ੭ social media au (request)
— WARNINGS ੭ none.
— FACE CLAIM ੭ liz of IVE.
❪ main masterlist | f1 masterlist | toto wolff masterlist ❫
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ynusername
📍Shanghai, China
liked by zhouguanyu24, georgerussell63, and 988 243 others
ynusername (late) Shanghai dump ! Thanks again Zhou for showing me around 😊
（晚）上海垃圾场！再次感谢周兄带我参观 😊
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user1 ya'll, in here chinese trans she called zhou "big brother zhou" 😭😭, that's so cute
user2 if it was anyone else, toto would have never let them post that picture of him 💀
↳ ynusername 😛
zhouguanyu24 always a pleasure y/n ! and btw, ur chinese is getting much better !
↳ ynusername well, I do have the best teacher :) [ liked by zhouguanyu24 ]
↳ mercedesamgf1 she's off limits guanyu.
↳ user3 you can't tell me this ain't toto talking 😭
↳ zhouguanyu24 I...
↳ mercedesamgf1 don't need her coming back home reeking of sauber. back. off.
↳ ynusername 😦 (the woman was too stunned to speak)
user4 poor zhou was just tryna be nice and toto just had to go all papa bear on him
ynusername added to their story ! • 1hr
seen by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and 977 243 others
user1 replied to your story !
girl, u underestimate ur power 💀
mercedesamgf1
🎧 That's My Girl – Fifth Harmony
liked by georgerussell63, mickshumacher, and 1 232 334 others
mercedesamgf1 our silver arrow princess 🫂.
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user1 how much ya'll wanna bet that toto posted this ?
↳ georgerussell63 he did indeed, and I totally saw him smiling like a fool doing it too
↳ lewishamilton and I thought I had toto wrapped around my finger, but bro praises the ground she walks on practically
↳ mickshumacher the girl gives the word "princess" a whole new meaning
↳ user2 help not the merc boys exposing toto 😭
ynusername merc 4 ever 💋 [ liked by mercedesamgf1 ]
user3 toto is literally yn's dad. prove me wrong- oh wait, u can't.
user4 so no one's gonna talk about the song choice ?? okay 😭
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anon: Silver Arrow Princess, please 🥺 ! Toto Wolff looks like he would be more like girl-dad instead of boss.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#smau#toto wolff#mercedes amg f1#ive liz#ive#liz ive#kim jiwon#kpop#silver arrow princess#lewis hamilton#george russell#mick shumacher#zhou guanyu
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𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔
summary: michael kaiser is a coward who needs a little incentive to finally confess his feelings towards you.
tags: f!reader, roommates to lovers, fluff, falling in love, kissing (more like, making out), jealousy, mutual pinning, possessive kaiser.
wc: 1.7k
notes: i do not know what possessed me into writing this, but man, it needs to do it again.
something you've realized early on in your friendship with kaiser is that he's a coward.
he hates spiders, makes you throw the trash out at night, and screams whenever something falls out of its place because he thinks the apartment is haunted.
in the year that you've spent as his roommate, you've come to terms with it. he's nice, cleans his dishes, and helps with the laundry. he keeps the noise down to a minimum and cooks you breakfast when he isn't preoccupied with practice.
another perk of living with him is the fact that he buys you things, expensive things. perfume. flowers. the dress you were eyeing online. your favorite snacks. a limited edition plushy you've been wanting since forever.
anything.
you realized early on that michael kaiser is rude to other people, scoffing and smirking as if he's above everyone else. he mutters comments about them under his breath, thinking you can't hear. he bosses people around, looking at them like they're ants. a waste of his time.
he isn't like that with you.
for one, he's sweet. if the gift giving isn't enough, he goes out of his way to seek you out after his matches. he asks for massages, for small pecks and fleeting touches. he video calls you when he's away, never forgetting to wish you a good morning and sweet dreams through voice notes. all with a grin on his lips.
you aren't blind. you know those are his ways of expressing affection. you just wish he'd finally man up and admit his feelings.
"so, how was the date?"
kaiser's sitting on the couch of your living room, remote control in hand as he stares at the tv, some random soccer match showing across the screen. his hair is wet, and he's got his glasses on. his posture is relaxed, seemingly nonchalant as he asks the question.
you know him enough to see him gritting his teeth even through his bored expression.
"good evening to you too," you laugh, airy as you take off your heels. putting them next to the door, you drop your keys in the sage bowl, letting them clink against his. "have dinner yet?"
leaning against the door, you can see the fine lines of his shoulder tense. the kaiser you're used to is a show pony, the person sitting on your couch isn't. he almost looks like a stranger with his neutral expression and bored eyes. such a difference to the guy who usually comes running whenever you walk through the entrance.
"i ordered takeout." he motions to the plates littered around him, pointing at the fridge. "i saved you some of your favorites."
internally, you flutter. happy to know that the kaiser you know, and love, isn't completely gone.
"thank you, that's very sweet of you."
he's adamant on keeping his eyes off you and on the screen, his shoulders becoming even more tense as you open your arms wide.
"no hug for today?" there's a hopeful smile on your lips as you say the words. happy to finally have everything the way they should be.
only to be shut down with a single side eye from him.
"what?" he asks lowly, almost conceding in his words. almost like your presence bothers him, like all those other people do. like you aren't special to him anymore. "did your date dump you? and now you're looking to me for comfort?"
the words are icy, and he gives no room for rebuttals. not when he looks at you with a quirked eyebrow and a cocky smirk.
it's the first time he's used his persona on you. one he uses to hide away from the world. you decide that you hate it.
"no. actually, he was sweet," you bite back, glaring when you decide that enough is enough. "asked to hold my hand and carry me on his back."
you watch as his face darkens, his eyes clouding over until you can't recognize the pretty blue color they usually spark in. you're riling him up, making him angry. and it's working.
"why? jealous?"
it's the question you've been dying to ask for months now. he flirts like you're more than friends, buys you gifts like you're something special to him, shuts down every time you go on a date with someone that isn't him.
but when it comes down to it, you not his to have. not when he's too much of a coward to do anything about it.
"and if i am?" his words surprise you. it's the first time he's come close to revealing his true feelings in months. they're said with an underlying tone of anger, jealousy, and possessiveness. like you're already his and no one else's. "what's it to you?"
"oh, you know, just happy you're finally being a man and talking about your feelings."
you shouldn't have said that. with the way his eyes are practically glaring, you don't know what else to say. you look up when he stands, practically looming as he stalks to you.
"you're so-"
his words are interrupted by his cursing. he glares down at you, pushing his hand next to your head, pining you against the door. you gulp, watching as he practically shakes in anger.
"du machst mich wahnsinnig, liebling. ich glaube nicht, dass ich mich zurückhalten kann, wenn du weiterhin so eine göre bist."
translation: you're driving me mad, darling. i don't think i can hold back if you continue to be such a brat.
"he even asked to kiss me too," you say, your voice trembling under his dark gaze. your sweet and funny roommate is gone, replaced by the man you see in front of you. your heart is pounding against your chest, in both fear and excitement for what he'll do when you finally push him off the edge. "he-"
kaiser surges down, cutting your sentence off with a kiss.
your eyes widen when your head hits the door from his force. a shiver running down your spine when he lifts a hand, placing it on the back of your head, gently caressing the area. closing your eyes, you wrap your arms around his shoulder, kissing him back with just as much fervor.
he relaxes at that, pulling back slightly only to swoop back in, keeping you in his arms for as long as he wants. by the time he finally breaks the kiss, you're both leaning against each other.
you've never seen his eyes as happy as they are now.
"ich bin mir sicher, dass ich besser küsse als er," he says, smug as he takes in the way you're panting. he chuckles, placing his hands on the side of your neck to pull you into another kiss. "richtig, liebling?"
translation: i'm sure i kiss better than he does. right, darling?
"i don't know what you're saying but yes. okay. sure." you nod, head still hazy as his hands start to stroke your cheek. "if it's something bad, then no."
he chuckles, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. he keeps you rooted in your spot, his eyes darting back between your eyes and your lips. "you're mine now, yeah? no one else gets to kiss you the way i did."
"about time," you say with a roll of your eyes when your breathing finally settles. you play with the hair around his shoulder, slightly tugging at the strands. "it went awful, by the way. he made me walk 3 kilometers because his car broke down."
his hands stop, freezing as he looks at you incredulously. "but you said-"
"i lied," you say with a cheeky grin. you lift yourself onto your tiptoes, placing a kiss on his cheek as an apology. "just wanted to see how you'd react."
you giggle when he groans, letting him settle in the crook of your neck. "you little minx. next time, call me. i'll pick you up and drop you off."
there's the kaiser you know and love.
"mihya." the nickname is odd on your lips, new and completely unrefined. you watch as he perks up, his eyes practically shining as he looks down at you. guess you'll just have to use the nickname on him more often from now on. "you're a terrible driver. you'd be picking me up at the mall and dropping us off at the gates of heaven."
"well, at least that means an angel will finally return home."
you smack his shoulder for that.
bonus:
you're walking down the stairs of your university a few weeks later, laughing at something your friend said when the sound of squealing fills your ears.
a sleek black lamborghini sits right in front of you.
you blink, taking in the over-the-top showcase before your eyes land on the figure right beside it. you snort as kaiser winks at you from his spot, still taking his time to soak up the limelight.
"did you have to come all the way here to be a showoff?" you greet him with a kiss to his cheek that kaiser visibly grins at.
ever since getting together, he's been hogging you all to himself. he insists on driving you to and from wherever you need because your time together is worth everything to him. "you are so petty. making sure no one even thinks of asking me out on another date?"
"you like it." the way he says it is breathless, like it's a secret he's been keeping to himself for a long time. "you like me."
who knew michael kaiser turned out to be such a corny romantic?
you snort, tugging him into the car before he makes any more of a scene. "i do."
he grins at that, revving the engine as loud as he can, smirking when a group of freshmen cheer and wave to him from behind the car.
"good." he takes your hand, placing a kiss on the knuckles. he holds it as he backs out of the university and into the open street. "be prepared because i'm about to spoil you even more."
#blue lock x reader#blue lock imagines#blue lock fluff#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser imagines#kaiser x reader#kaiser imagines#michael kaiser fluff#michael kaiser x you#michael kaiser x y/n#bllk x female reader#bllk x y/n#bllk x you#bllk x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock headcanons#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x y/n#kaiser fluff
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orange juice
Beta Female Reader x Y! Omega Male
Beta X Omega I rarely seen those so why not. Let us make it more spicy by making the lead yandere. I still don't understand some concept in omegaverse so... I'm gonna make my own rule lol.
Just a heads up, grammatically errors incoming. Not proof read. Anything that is in this fiction does not meant to offend anyone. That is why it's called fiction.
CW: yandere, cursing, mention of killing.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
(THIS IS REPOST BECAUSE I REALIZED THAT SIDE BLOGS HAS LIMITED ACCESS SO I MADE A NEW ACCOUNT ;∆;)
"H-hello!" You turn around to see a familiar face visiting your spa. His pretty purple eyes were eccentric the way it brightened up when he saw you acknowledging him. It's the pretty boy you've saved last week from being pick on by the Alphas.
He was surprised that a beta like you actually didn't get intimidated by the presence of them. Well technically you did, but you pretended to be a police officer showing your fake badge and that 'back-up' is on their way to apprehend them when you noticed they were not buying your bluff at first, thankfully the Alphas that were hovering on him retreated. It was kinda funny they weren't intimidated by you until you held out a fake badge that could get them in trouble by their own law.
That idea was dumb but most people always fell for your trick, though you might get in trouble someday for the false identity which is why you only use it for emergency. Long story short, your aunt taught you this for survival in this dog water society.
At first, the pink haired male glared at you, you could careless about him since you were getting annoyed by the fact that they are giving a ruckus outside your spa and its driving away your customers. You don't want your boss finding out about this. The Alpha who guards outside the house is still taking care of his wife, so all the responsibility falls onto you the only beta employee present the rest are omegas because the other betas and alphas employees has different schedule. You were the 'strongest' among the employees inside.
You stare at the omega for a second.
The heck did you do? Why's he glaring at you?
You mentally shrugged before turning around to go back to your shop, not waiting for him to whether or not he should thank you.
A sudden angry shout from him made you pause from your tracks, "You are the same as those men earlier! I-I don't need you to save me!"
You turn to him with a deadpan look. "What are you on about?"
"Y-you think omega's are powerless and need to be protected, that's why you saved me, right?!" You can see he was quivering a little bit, his eyes are starting to show disgust look towards you. "Y-you think we don't need a jobs or—or we just need to sit still and look pretty—to be use like an incubator!" You can feel in his voice that his emotions must have been bubbling out seeing that his talk is becoming incoherent.
You scratched your head and sigh irritation, "Calm down dude. First of all, that is how Alphas that are 'leading' the society viewed omegas which is bullcrap and I don't believe in that, People who thinks like that need to check their brains in the nearby hospital. Also, I believe everyone can be independent and take care of themselves long as they can, I could careless about what the society says they can't control my life. True, omegas may be weak in nature against others but that doesn't mean all of them are weak or they are only used to look pretty for giving an offspring, they can be independent too if they wanted to. Second, you probably know how to handle them seeing you are very composed earlier but this loud noise is giving me a headache and my customers are leaving because how noisy it was. Now, If I offend you in someway well then I apologize. Bye." You gave him a small lazy wave before turning away not waiting for his response, quickly strolling back to your parlor.
So here he was, late at night. You in a closing hours shift since you are the only masseuse left in the parlor on work except your friend who was waiting for you in the employees room clock out for the work and playing, from the game he just downloaded in his app called something impact. Gin san impact? Gone wrong impact? Whatever it was you were hooked when you saw it earlier and will probably download it once you got home.
"Ah yes, welcome." You acknowledge him, awkwardly. You didn't expect him to meet you on your work. He trudges towards you requesting for service menu. You quickly handed him the said item on what were on the lists of your parlor was offering for customers, telling him to sit down while he read the list of services. He skims around the menu for a few seconds before pointing at the service list and you wrote it down; Shockingly, you witness the stranger you met a week ago was going for too many services.
"Oh umm... We are 2 hours closing in. So I think I can only do the first three." You told him. He gave you an 'oh' before agreeing he will try the others the next time when he visits.
"Do you have a partner?"
He was surprised at your sudden question. So you cleared your throat."It's.... In our protocol to ask our customers...and We know that it is personal question."
You can tell he was weirded out but he told you he doesn't have one. You muttered alright and went ahead to take the menu from him. You put them back on the rack as you walk pass him to put the sign close from the glass entrance before going to a cabinet to carry a towel and some thin white cloth for him to change. You wrote his room number and guide him to his room.
He stood up and follows you.
Through out the walk you can feel him staring at your move, making you feel a little tense as the walk in the hallway of doors feels like forever.
You twisted the knob before letting yourself inside first. He smiles at you and walk inside, you gave him the items you brought earlier telling him to change and knock on the door when he is ready.
That's weird, last time you met him. He was very resentful and now he was being smiley and friendly to you. You don't mind at least he was tolerating you for now.
You closed the door behind you putting on surgical mask since some others weren't comfortable smelling their pheromones.
You heard a knock and a small 'I'm ready' and you go in.
He was sitting down. His top were bare, abs were shown on his frame except for his lower part since it was covered by the thin cloth you gave earlier, you can definitely see how smooth his skin was—no scars just a little bruise on his left thigh which is something you definitely won't asked, you quickly look anywhere before he catches you staring at him. The towel were neatly folded along the clothes he wore earlier at the other table.
The pink haired omega was looking at you and he did caught you staring but you don't know that. A small smile escape on his lips. You cleared your throat and lit up three incense candles for relaxation and turn on a relaxing music, you went on the other side of the room where the sink was and washed your hands, sanitizing it using your own towel. You look back at him to see that he was still gazing towards you. He was still sitting, you assumed this must be his first time going to a spa or massage parlor since he should be already laying on his stomach or he must be waiting for you to give him an order since he ask for three different types of session. "You should lay on your stomach so we could start now."
"Why are you wearing a mask?"
You stop applying oil on your hand at his question before resuming again. "...both parties might not be comfortable when a pheromones were smelled."
"Oh."
There was a silence between the two of you.
"I'm going to start now." He nodded, doing what you'd asked earlier and close his eyes. The small round stones were place on his spinal before proceeding on messaging him with your oily hands.
The first few minutes were the same awkward atmosphere except for the jazzy music on the background, Both of your hand slides to his shoulders, wrapping around and gave a small squeeze. You hear him whimper.
"S-sorry!" You shrugged his apologize saying that is normal for customers.
"I umm didn't say thank you when you saved me last week..."
He continued,"sorry for bothering you with your customers."
"Don't mention it. I actually didn't plan on going outside if it weren't for my coworkers since like I mentioned last time you can handle them pretty well." You bit your tongue inside since you don't know how to talk back when someone compliments you or apologize to you. You only wanted to let him know that
He must have noticed that so he continued, "...I didn't catch your name earlier."
You answered him,"It's (Y/n)..."
"(Y/n)." The way your name rolled on his voice makes your body feel a little bit weird.
"(Y/n), huh.. that's a weird name for a beta." You blink at him before chuckling at him. "You're weird. It's a normal name."
He giggled. "My names Luke."
"Your name doesn't suits you." You teased him before telling him to turn around so you can do second session.
He obliged scoffing at you as he lay back down on his back. "H-hey! Luke is pretty cool name."
"I never said it wasn't, I said it doesn't suit you."you gave him a smirk which he pouts. He look cute when he did that.
"The badge you'd shown were fake wasn't it?"
Ah shit, someone noticed it. No use of hiding it then.
"..uhh..yeah, I use it only if things goes out of hands."
The two of you talk for a bit laughing resuming the second session until it was time for his third and final session which is to massage his face.
"Is this your first time... Ummm..doing service for omegas?" His voice were small but you didn't notice he was anticipating at your answer. You hummed thoughtfully before answering. "Hmmm.. not really... I get omegas as my clients but I guess I would say this is the first time that I could finish my sessions with them."
He seemed confused which made you continue, "Ummm... Most partners of theirs were jealous and would almost instantly attack us, telling us that we shouldn't touch them, but we know that we were only doing our job as masseuse so. Of course, the customers paid us of any injuries or damage properties as well as others, we don't blame them, and it was starting to get out of hand.... Since, we don't have any other choice, we hired an Alpha to stop any ruckus. I would lie if I said I don't want to hit one of my clients' unreasonable partners."
"Oh..." You noticed his reaction when he got your question earlier about his status.
"He already went home though. He excused himself just earlier, his spouse needed him so we let him go now." You tell him. He must have realized there was no guard around earlier. Just you at the receptionist counter.
".. What's your thought about Alphas?"
"nothing much, regardless how some of them are uhh... unreasonable when it comes to greed. I'm pretty sure not all of them are all like that."
He didn't respond but you caught him rolling his eyes before closing them. He muttered something but you didn't quite catch it.
You slide and pressure your oily hands on his, you heard a purring, making you look around the room in confusion. Was there a cat somewhere?
You scan your eyes around the room for a bit more only to register that it was actually coming from him.
A little heat coming from your cheeks but you squash it down the feeling as it was inappropriate, it was good thing you were wearing a mask before he can see your reaction.
You didn't do anything about it and continue your work. Luke on the other hand felt euphoric, your hands were doing the God's work. He hasn't tell you what he felt when you save him from the bunch of alpha's trying to court him. He was grateful—no, he wasn't grateful; he was lightened up the fact you view omegas like a normal person and not dehumanising or infantilize them—considering you are a beta and has nothing to do with omega but still! He just felt happy that he wasn't the only one who has that kind of perspective.
You cleaned him up with a towel, you noticed his eyes were half dazed as if he was relaxed, you told him that he can now change back, as you blew off the candle and turn off the jazz music, washing your hands again and drying it off with your own towel. You put the other materials back to where they belong and look at the timer to see you over time. You opened the door and twisting it open to see your friend/co-worker.
He was pouting.
The pink haired male saw him through the doorway before you close the door behind you, and starts talking with your friend. His purple eyes realise he was an omega.
He felt a little pang from his chest.
"Hey, I thought you said you are going to clock out once it hits midnight~!" Tyrenn whined out. He tried to help you carry the items you were holding but you refused as the both of you struts back to the employees room, "He's the last customer."
You threw the towel and the cloth at the hamper before stretching yourself up. "Man, I'm tired." He threw you a bottle of orange juice and you catch it, twisting the cap open and drink a little bit before clocking out of work. You grab your bag and change at the changing room with your casual wear and goes outside from the employees room only with your co-worker. He tells you that you're gonna be excited on what he discovered on the game he played earlier while the both of you starts trudging at the main lobby where the counter was.
Luke was waiting, his eyes brightened up when you arrived. he waited to give you his money but your friend who was clinging at you took it from him, thanking him for accepting your service, putting them at the cash register before locking it.
He lick his dry his lips before turning to you, "Umm...thanks again. The service was great. I-I'll see you next time. It was nice meeting you." He smelled the scent of orange juice that you were holding. It was half full, there were some in the corner of your lips.
Tyrenn grabbed the bottle from your hand and you let him drink it as you start conversing with your last customer.
You nod at him, noticing he was a little taller than you. "Likewise. Should I call you a taxi? It's already past midnight."
He shook his head, smiling. "No it's fine! I live few blocks away from here." He put his left hand on his pocket while the other one was slowly pulling the glass door where he comes in.
"Oh, Be careful. I just heard that there was a serial killer roaming around this time at night killing Alphas. That doesn't mean you should be careless about it. You might never know when the killer change their mind on killing the others." You warned him. The pink haired male nodded again, smiling even more when you're worried for his safety. Tyrenn waved him a goodbye before talking to you again about the game he played earlier as he clings even more to your arms. Luke's eyes slightly twitches at the scene.
"Yes, yes I will! Thank you again!" He walked out of the parlor smiling. When he is few blocks away from the spa, his smile disappear.
He might change his mind on killing your friend though.
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want more of him? Tap here
#yandere male#yandere#yandere omega#yandere boy#yandere male x reader#yandere lover#yandere oc x y/n#yandere oc#yandere x you#soft yandere#pretty yandere#yandere boyfriend#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#omegaverse#yandere omegaverse#yandere omega x beta#omega#omega x beta#yandere alpha#yandere!omegaverse#yandere imagines#clingy yandere#scara writes oc#scara writes
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Jealousy
Summary: Miguel can't seem to get his way and for reasons he couldn't believe.
Word count: 2k+
Warnings: None(sneaky Miguel)
A/n: here is pt.3 I hope you guys enjoy I will be giving a pt.4 which will be the final part if anyone would like to be tagged just let me know and I'll be happy to! I hope I got every one who wanted to be tagged in Pt.3 there were so many of you and I just want to sat thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving my story! I hope you guys enjoy!xx
Tags list: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @m4zapan @luciiferian @stinygirl009 @anonymoussomebody345 @watamoteru @smolrain08 @amberpanda99 @hantheconqueror @mhm-ok-sure @chuckle-nuts. @a-helpless-romantic @witchofwhimsey @rin-matsuoka345-blog @cherripunch26 @anneliese500 @theleftkittycollection @ok-boke @nanushkka @gugggu6gvai @joestarbitch @distractionforyourthoughts @tanchosanke @lokiseason @hao-ming-8 @sport-lova @munixumai @capybaraaa . @dearrdarlingg @riddle-me-im-sirius @melovetitties @liyanahelena @bat1212 @christinesdemoness1958 @musicpookie @luujjvi @ilovejeansosomuch @m0chac0ffee @perrierbottleofproblems @zayxcc @shyshyshy-19 @futuristicpandakid @lilyevans1
Parts: One Two Three^ Four
Credits to the owner:)^
It had been quite a few months since you removed yourself from the spider society.
You thought that in doing so you lost your friends but Pete, Hobbie, and Gwen all stuck by your side and visited you every now and then.
Not all at once, you didn't want Miguel to figure out that they were coming to you and yell at them for it or worse, come too.
In that aspect everything was great.
When it came to your healing journey, you had good days and bad days.
Or more like bad nights.
During the day you kept busy working in your world's Alchemax, and at night you dealt with spider business which was slow this time around.
This is when you found yourself thinking about him.
The silence of the city only made your thoughts louder and all they reminded you of was Miguel.
But you hadn't given up on your promise to yourself, you would move on.
And then you decided to get a dog.
He was the best choice you could have made, your sweet little milo.
May Day absolutely loved him, she wanted to bring him to her birthday party but to be honest you didn't even know if you’d be taking yourself.
Pete didn't want to hide anything from you so he told you as soon as he found out that Miguel actually agreed to not just let him throw her party at HQ but go to it as well.
Risking him speaking to you and ruining all of your growth was not in your plans.
You had to be honest with yourself, if Miguel spoke to you with the slightest warth you knew you’d break so for your own sake staying away from him was best.
So, that's where you were with all of this, sitting on a rooftop enjoying a slice of pizza thinking about whether you should show up tomorrow or not.
Deciding to call it a night on saving the city you swung home looking forward to Milo’s greeting cuddles.
Back at HQ Miguel watched as everyone scurried to put together the decorations for May Day's birthday.
The chaos was loud and he almost regretted agreeing to it.
“Ay dios.” he mumbled as he walked past Gwen and Hobbie pretending they were there.
“So you think she’ll come? May Day is her favorite spider. She wouldn't miss it, right?” he heard Gwen say.
Suddenly he froze.
“There is a chance if you ask me. I believe in her.” Hobbie replied webbing up the sign he was putting on the wall, much easier than tape.
Miguel began walking again hoping no one would notice how he stopped to listen in on the conversation.
Walking into his office space he called for Lyla, “Give me the list of spiders coming to this party.” he said pulling up his screens.
“But boss, that's hundreds?” she asked confused but the request.
“That's fine, just give it to me, Please.” he asked, growing impatient with his AI.
“Alright calm down here it is, Who are we looking for anyways?” she said, sliding it over to him.
“No one, just making sure its a safe list.” he said looking over his shoulder.
Bles mary janes heart for added the yes, no and maybe option it made him easier to see who was actually coming.
All the names had a yes except for one, one big red MAYBE and it was next to yours.
Shoulders dropping in slight disappointment he let out a sigh.
These past months he’d been gloomy.
The only time he perked up was at the mention of your name, but sadly that's as close he got to you these days.
He found out that Pete, Hobbie, Gwen and even fucking Miles anomaly Morales snuck off to see you.
He was jealous.
He hated that you let them into your life.
Each time they came back laughing about something you said, he was jealous.
Everytime they mentioned a fun moment you shared, he was burning in jealousy.
It made him sick.
His blood boiled knowing someone else was making you laugh when he just wanted to have you to himself.
He liked it when you spent hours in his office “helping him” with reports.
He only ever gave you simple tasks just to keep you at his side.
To watch your face when you were focused on the footage, the way you bite your lip when you think you're getting close.
The way you kept eye contact and showed interest in whatever it was he said made him think about other things you could do together whilst keeping eye contact.
God, you drove him insane in the best way.
But not having you close like that was driving him insane in the worst way.
Spiders voluntarily left him alone now not wanting to cross him on a bad which now was very frequent.
The only reason he stuck around at the end of team briefings was to see if he’d hear any news on you.
He didn't think anyone noticed his intent, But then there was Jess always on his six.
She knew from day one that you had fallen, but oh was he gonna fall harder and he did.
She saw the way he searched for you in a room, how he’d ask you and only you to help him on reports.
Nothing went past her.
“Did a villain sneak onto the list?” she said, creeping up behind him.
Quickly removing the screen he looked over his shoulder letting out a simple shrug to answer her.
“Just want to see who I‘ll be dealing with for the evening.” he said trying to cover up his annoyance.
“Anyone stand out?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope. All good.” he said standing up, “ I‘ll see you tomorrow Jess, get some rest.” he said leaving his office.
Smiling to herself, Jess knew he was slowly breaking down.
All it would take to finish the job was see you.
She knew you had RSVP’d to come yesterday but she made Lyla change it just to confirm her suspicions further.
And he did just that.
----
Mentally preparing yourself for today was the hardest part.
You planned out your evening.
Go in, greet everyone, stick to Hobbie, Gwen and Miles, hold May Day, and then make the excuse that Milo had an accident and you had to get back home.
A solid plan.
Suddenly a portal opened and in walked Hobbie, “My lady.” he greeted extending an arm.
Taking his hand you stood up, “Oh, one sec.” you said as you sent a signal activating your suit.
“Woaahhh the new suit is wicked.” he said watching it go on.
“It's nano tech, you like it?” you said as it reached up to your neck before stopping.
“Killin it, as always.” he said before walking into the portal.
Well, here goes nothing.
“Be good Milo, Mommy will be home soon.” you said, patting his sleepy head before walking in.
Deep breath, here goes nothing.
Walking in you put on your brightest smile.
“Hey! There she is and get a look at this suit, this new? I like it!” Peter yelled, taking your hand and spinning you.
“Hey guys! Nice to see everyone again, Miles nice to meet you.” you said laughing.
“Nice to meet you, very nice lady, thank you for not hunting me down.” he said, shaking your hand viciously.
Laughing at your inside joke you pulled him in for a hug secretly taking a peak over his shoulder.
You could feel his stare on you, you just didn't know from where.
The party went on as planned, you stayed cautious, had a good time with your friends and held May Day until she eventually fell asleep.
Everyone told you that you had a gentle way when it came to kids so falling asleep just came to them naturally.
Taking that as your sign to leave you handed her over to Mary Jane and went to go look for Hobbie.
“Hey, has anyone seen Hobbie?” you asked not being able to find him.
“Rooftop, girly pop.” you heard Jess say as she hugged you goodbye.
“Oh great, we can open a portal there. Bye guys guess I‘ll see you around.” you said waving to the rest of the spiders.
Making your way up you looked around the rooftop to find it empty.
Huh. Maybe he went for a swing. You thought looking over the city.
He’d been told a couple times not to but that only made him do it more.
“He’s not here.” you heard behind you. Well shit.
“Thanks Jess.” you heard making you chuckle to yourself.
Of course.
“Well then it makes no use to stay up here.” you said turning to walk away.
“Wait, just give me a second.” he said, reaching out for you.
“One. Welp there is it and look I've given you five extra just by standing here.” you said sarcastically.
Trying to leave once more he actually Physically got in your way this time.
“Please.” he said trying to get you to look at him and you could've sworn you heard sincerity in there.
“Fine. talk.” you said crossing you arms sitting on the ledge trying to create some distance.
“ I am sorry,” he blurted out.
“ I don't forgive you. We done here? Great.” you said standing up ready to bee line it for the door.
Your tactics were failing you and your front could only last for so long.
“No no wait just-” he was cut off by a beeping sound coming from your suit.
It was your alarm for Milo’s dinner time.
Gasping you stood up from where you sat.
“Oh Milo.” you said turning off the alarm.
“What? Who the fuck is Milo?” he said anger began to rise up in his chest.
“Really wish we could finish this but I‘m late to a very important dinner with someone who does respect me, so excuse me.” you said finally getting past him.
Stunned by your response he watched you walk past him.
Who in the actual fuck was Milo and what rights did he have over you?
Following you back into the party he watched as you asked Pete to get you back home.
“Oh yeah sure, How's Milo by the way?” he asked while opening the portal.
Again with this fucking Milo.
“Oh he's really great, miss him more every second we're apart.” you said, putting your hands on your hips.
Time was moving real slow right about now.
But for Miguel it was moving a little too fast, he didn't want you to get back to Milo.
He wanted you here, patching things up with him.
“Gotta love Milo am I right? May Day sure does.” he said, quickly shutting up when he realized Miguel was still there.
“Well thanks for the portal, tell Mj the party was great, take care pete.” you said hugging him goodbye.
Just as you are about to be free Miguel grabs your hand.
“Will you come back, Please?” he asked, the desperation in his voice could be heard from miles away.
“ I don't think so Miguel, it took me a while to realize that there was nothing wrong with me. And Milo helped with that even if it's just been a couple of months and I‘m still getting the hang of things. He loves me for it and he needs me.” you said, smiling at the thought of your sweet little furbaby.
Standing up straight Miguel let your arm go, “Lucky Milo.” was all he said before you took it as your queue to leave.
Defeated by the night's outcome he went back into his office and let out some frustration on the nearest machine.
There it was again, feeling sick of jealousy.
Someone else had your attention, time and love.
And all he had was your rejection.
At this point in time Miguel wished he was anybody else other than himself.
And just like that jealousy started following him wherever he went, never letting him go.
All because of some Milo.
#marvel#marvel men#spiderman#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#spider-man 2099#miguel#oscar issac fic
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OFF THE DASHBOARD
i. FEATURING — Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader
ii. SYNOPSIS — Relentless stacks of paperwork and arrests during patrols have Leon busy all the time. It doesn’t help that you’re out of town for some work business. Feeling deprived of your touch, he hastily calls you while in his car, needing to hear your voice.
iii. CONTENT WARNINGS — 18+ content (MDNI) Sub!Leon, masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, spit for lubrication, praise with tiny hints of condescending degradation (leon receiving) Focused mostly on Leon overall. Please check my DNI before interacting. Lowkey rushed, my bad LMAOO
Your boyfriend was a needy and pitiful mess. He stationed his car in an empty parking lot as soon as he got off his shift at the department. He had his lights turned off. He was ringing your phone, already having you on speaker in case you picked up. A bold move, but he never invested in a pair of earphones so it would have to do.
The slacks of his uniform were painfully tight, he needed you. Couldn’t get off on his own, he was fucking addicted to you. He used to be able to get off in just minutes by the simple thought of you. But he was getting greedy, you spoiled him rotten. He needed to feel you, or at least hear your voice coax him into an orgasm.
“C’mon,” he muttered out, running a hand through his messy hair out of desperation. His phone was beeping, the picture he had for your saved contact showing on his phone and illuminating his car a bit.
It was wishful thinking. It was midnight already, there’s no way you would–
“Hello?”
The greeting alone sent blood rushing to his cock, his mind was spinning at the sound of the voice he had been craving to hear the entire long and exhausting work day. His tongue ran across his lips, trying to make up for how dry his throat felt.
“Oh, thank god.” He let out an audible sigh of relief, one you could clearly hear over the phone. “I’m so sorry for calling so late and without any notice, it’s just…”
He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, not knowing how to continue his sentence. He couldn’t just straight up tell you that he had been fantasizing about you jerking him off for hours on end, right? The thought of your hands taking his uniform off at a tantalizing pace before finally wrapping your hand around his cock—it sounded so good. Or even the manner in which you’d teasingly run your fingers across his abdomen before tracing over the lines of his v-line, he was always so weak under your touch.
“It’s okay, I was awake catching up on a show anyway. You’ve been so busy lately and I miss you like crazy, I’m glad you called.” Your voice came through and he wanted to melt into a puddle in his car seat.
“I miss you too, so much. Listen—I’m kind of in a predicament right now,” he eventually managed to say with a breathless tone of voice, placing his hand on the bulge straining against his slacks, rubbing the area lightly and letting out a soft whimper. He hoped you’d get the picture, without having to vulgarly explain himself.
A beat, you registered the sound of Leon’s voice. He was horny, you could tell just by the undertone of need that seeped from his words. Usually he was more subtle, not so blatantly whimpering during a call. That was kinda hot though, your usually composed boyfriend was in need of release.
“Baby. Are you hard right now?”
The term of endearment made Leon’s heart quicken, there was something about the way you said it that made heat blossom across his cheeks. “Guilty.”
You could be cruel sometimes, but not today. Not when you hadn’t touched Leon in nearly three weeks because of conflicting schedules.
“Take your belt off,” your voice was gentle but Leon knew you were instructing him. “And let me hear it, too. Wanna know you’re listening to me.”
There was something about you bossing him around that was so incredibly sexy, he momentarily set his phone down on one of his thighs so you could hear the clanking of metal as he fumbled to take off his belt and gear. It took him longer than usual, and the adrenaline pumping through him made him hear his own pulse in his ears.
“Okay,” fuck, his voice was quivering and his belt was discarded off onto the passenger seat. “What now?”
“Mm,” you thought about it for a moment, just to tease him. Eventually, you settled on a response. “Stroke yourself over your boxers, and tell me what that pretty mind of yours was thinking about all day.”
He was a good boy, unzipping his pants and slipping his right hand underneath—finding the shape of his cock and gliding his hand up and down. The fabric of his boxers was already wet with his precum, it was sticking almost uncomfortably to him. His free hand found purchase on the edge of his car seat, short nails digging into the leather of it.
“I, uh.” He was stammering, mind struggling to formulate a coherent thought. You did this on purpose, making him talk even when he was struggling.
“C’mon sweetheart, you can do better than that. Don’t tell me you went all dumb just by touching yourself for a single second.”
Those taunts, fuck, that condescending tone you took. The windows of his car were undoubtedly going to fog up with all the ragged breaths he was taking. “Was thinking about your hand on my cock, and that thing you do with your thumb—like…oh fuck, when you rub the tip with it.”
A babbling mess, that’s what he was. “T–Thought about you spitting on my cock, and the way you look at me while you do. Want you. Need you.”
“Atta boy,” your praise made him gasp—the words shooting straight down the gutter. “Keep going, you sound so fucking pretty.”
He was almost drooling with the way his jaw was slackened, his lips feeling dry with each intake of breath through his mouth. Only you were given the heavenly experience of hearing all his little sounds, the hiccup of his breath and broken sobs.
“Can I touch myself now, please?” His request was quiet, spoken in a bashful manner.
You laughed at his question, wanting to play with him a little. “What do you mean? You are touching yourself.”
“Yeah but…” he let out a whine, beginning to feel frustrated. So damn impatient, the call had only been running for a few minutes and he was already being pouty. “Like, without my boxers. That’s what I meant. Please? I don’t know how much longer I can go.”
“So dirty. Where are you right now, Leon?”
He wanted to growl at you, how could you be asking such an unnecessary question in the middle of this? Were you trying to torture him? You didn’t even answer his oh so nicely worded request.
“Does it matter?” There was a little bit of frustration in his voice. Could he take his boxers off or not? “Parking lot.”
“Ah, right. So you’re asking me if you can take your boxers off in a public parking lot and touch yourself, then? You’re a cop, aren’t you? Isn’t that public indecency?”
“Babe.” His voice was so whiny, fingers getting ready to reach under his boxers. “Please. Just let me, there’s no one around, promise.” He craved your permission, even if he didn’t necessarily need it to touch himself.
You were so going to give him shit over this the next time the two of you hung out in person. “So impatient, fine, go ahead.”
His boxers were hastily shoved further down as soon as he got the green light, his fingers wrapping around his neglected cock. Tears brimmed at his eyes at the relief that flooded his senses, letting out a hiss as he stroked himself.
He imagined his hand was yours, mimicking the way you would touch him because he had it all memorized. “Oh god,” his eyes fluttered shut as his head tilted back towards the headrest—hips bucking up into his own hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”
“That’s it, keep going.” Hearing your boyfriend in such a messy state was getting to you too, your own hand snaking down your figure to the place that ached. “Spit on it.”
“What?” The command made him lose focus, his mind spinning with each passing second, “oh, wait, okay. Fuck, that’s hot.”
It was an easy task for him, saliva having already gathered in his mouth from the way he had been too focused on all the pleasure to even swallow. He let his spit land on the tip, watching as it ran it’s way down to the base.
With a high-pitched moan, he kept on going—a little faster than before. He was losing it, his rhythm progressively getting more sloppy as his stomach got tighter and tighter.
He really should’ve turned his ignition on so he could have some AC in his damn car, his uniform was going to be damp with sweat after this. Whatever, he owned a washing machine.
He could hear your encouragement and dirty talk, but he was too out of it to really pay attention. It didn’t matter, all he needed to know was that you were on the other line of the call, that’s the only way he could come in this situation.
“Not gonna last much longer,” he rasped out, giving the base of his cock some firm squeezes—the same motion you did to him whenever you gave him a handjob.
“I know,” you truly did, you could tell by the way he hadn’t responded to any of your praising comments, instead only receiving a mixture of heavy and uneven breathing as a response. “You can do it, sweetheart. Make a mess all over yourself.”
“Mm,” he heard that praise though, his knees felt like jelly. His hand was starting to cramp up but that was the last thing on his mind.
“Please,” he had no clue what he was begging for, the tears that glazed over his eyes started to spill. He hated that it wasn’t enough. Yeah, he was about to come, but his hand made only a decent substitute for yours.
“Gonna come, gonna come,” he repeated the phrase over and over again until his voice nearly gave out, “fuck, gonna—“
His eyebrows were knit together prettily, breathing momentarily paused as he gave some final tugs before his eyes rolled back, his hearing failing on him as all the noises turned to static.
He let out a silent moan, stripes of white landing onto the vest of his uniform. He inhaled and exhaled shuddering breaths as his body shook, slumping against his seat. His body felt limp and weak, hand cramping up from the way he had been going at it. “Oh my god…”
You gave him a couple moments to recuperate himself, “feeling good?”
“Better than good. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t picked up my call,” all the sexual tension of the day was finally exhausted from him, lazy smile forming on his face as he tried to catch his breath—he could hear you laughing over the phone.
“Gotten blue balls or something. Sooo, are you going to write yourself up now for public indecency?”
“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x gn!reader#leon kennedy smut#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#re2 smut#re2 x reader#my first post was supposed to be fluff but oh well
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THANKFUL
miya osamu x gn!reader
includes: bf osamu. afab!reader. smut lol. he uses a shit ton of pet names. he might have a bit of an oral fixation if you squint.
notes: old fic. wanted it here lol
You were just trying to bring your boyfriend lunch.
Walking in with your sweet smile and warm eyes and the packed container that Osamu had left on the kitchen counter this morning from running late. Granted, he does work at his own restaurant, so it’s not like he would’ve gone hungry (or been ridiculed for his tardiness) but still. You know how fussy he gets when he is looking forward to a certain meal and you didn’t want his poor employees to have to be subjected to that.
So in you came—like the absolutely great partner you are, regardless of what his brother (your annoyance) says—saving the day yet again with your boyfriend’s lunch in hand.
And it was damn near sickening, how his eyes lit up the instant he heard that bell jingle and saw it was you, the immediate softening of his face as a smile spread across his lips. He was pouting too, so yeah, you really did save his poor employees.
“Aw, baby. Ya didn’t have to do that,” he had cooed as you walked behind the counter to give it to him, letting him pull you into a big hug as he swayed you both side to side.
(But the thankful, knowing look his cashier had given you only confirmed your suspicions as you returned the embrace and let him peck your lips).
It was that same cashier that smiled at you both, waved you away, shooed you off. “You can go boss, don’t worry. I’ve got this covered. Rush time is over.”
Now normally, it would take a bit more convincing for Osamu to leave one of his workers manning the front all by themselves. Normally, he’d wait until one of the others returned from their own lunch before he deserted them and took his own. Normally, he puts his boss priorities first by a smidge in situations like this.
Normally, you don’t end up with your back arching off his hardwood desk with your muted moans echoing off his walls.
“What. A fuckin’. Sweetheart ,” Osamu grunts, each word punctuated by the pistoning of his hips as his hands grip onto your waist.
You grapple for him, for something, anything to hold onto as he mercilessly fucks into you. One hand wrapping around his wrist, the other trying to reach around his shoulders. He ruts into you again and you think you nearly bust your lip from how hard you’re biting it trying to keep your voice down.
“I just—you left it—so I—” a gasp rips out of your throat as he shifts, the head of his dick brushing against that spot in you that makes you want to scream. Nails digging into his skin, mouth dropping open to pant an ungodly variance of his name.
“You what?” he asks, and you fucking hate the way he sounds so collected when you’re literally losing your damn mind right here in his cramped office. “Thought about me, hm? Takin’ care of me, ain’t ya? My sweet baby.”
He leans over you enough to steal a sloppy kiss from your parted lips, drinks in the sighs and breathy exhales you push out. His eyes catch yours, stone grey pinning you, as if his arms coming up to cage you weren’t enough. A calloused, familiar hand cups your jaw, grips it like he thinks you would even dare look away.
“Yeah, my sweet fuckin’ baby,” he smirks in a way that has your stomach flipping ten times over, coil tightening up. “My turn to take care of you. Show you how fuckin’ thankful I am.”
And you want to dismiss him or shush him or curse him or something. He didn’t even lock the fucking office door for Christ’s sake, and it’s too loud. You’re both way too loud, and you want to tell him that. Tell him that he needs to be quiet, needs to keep you quiet, because you don’t think you’d ever be able to face any of his employees again if you knew they could hear you right now.
But all that comes out is a broken off moan into his mouth as his pace doubles. It’s hot in his office. You always berate him for not buying a fan, but you’re not too sure the lack of circulation is really what’s to blame for the heat this time as a rough hand slips between your bodies and the pad of a thumb presses to your clit.
“Shh, shh, baby.” And oh, now he worries about your volume? “Don’t want them to hear me showin’ my thanks, d’ya?”
His grip eases up a little on your jaw, just enough for him to slip his thumb up to rub against your bottom lip, tugging it down and letting it go. You can practically see the hearts in his eyes as he does it again, licking his own lips as he plays with yours. He’s always told you that you had a pretty mouth—when you were eating, talking, just sitting. You catch him staring, call him out just to watch him dopely smirk, listen to some cheeky remark he’ll give.
Now, though, it seems like every bit of cheeky is drained from him as he darts his tongue out to lap into your mouth, seemingly forgetting to even pull his thumb away before doing so.
If the chorus of thank yous he’s been spewing weren’t enough for you to get it, the ones he’s been quite literally drilling into you are. Your pussy flutters around him just barely, and that’s all the sign that he needs. His thumb on your clit speeds up, rubs patterns in a way you almost think could be the kanji for thank you as well. It’s what it feels like. Like every bit of him is exuding gratitude. Like he’s trying to engrain it into your pretty little brain one way or another. And you’re more than happy to help him.
He pulls back with a string of spit connecting you, warm pants into your mouth and on your cheeks as his hips stutter and his eyes go a little hazy.
“Fuck, fuck. C’mon sweetheart, cum f’me.”
And he’s just so damn pretty, flushed and breathless above you, chest heaving just a bit with every rock of his hips. You don’t think you could deny him even if you wanted to, and for some reason you’re nodding. Your frazzled little head bobbing as you tug him closer, bring him down again, let his mouth muffle your cry of his name as your legs start to shake and your cunt clenches around his cock. And Osamu, he’s never been one to receive without giving, and the same applies to this moment now as he gives your pretty cunt a few more shallow thrusts until a new type of warmth is being shot into you.
It’s static in the office for a few moments, staggered breaths and hammering heartbeats as the two of you stay pressed together. Slowly, Osamu raises his head up enough to look down at you again in his post-orgasmic glory, and with the look in his eyes you already want to kill him.
“Did ya get the message? Or do we need to go another—”
You shove his face away before he can even finish, rolling your eyes despite the slippery grin that spreads across your lips. And he just presses a kiss to your palm, giving it a lippy little bite when you try to shove him away the second time.
You were just trying to bring your boyfriend lunch, but now you’re rushing out of his restaurant with a red face and messy hair, trying to get to your car before his cum starts to leak out too much.
And pretending you didn’t see the look his poor cashier gave you as you ran out.
#yukimiyaz writing#miya osamu x reader#osamu x reader#osamu smut#miya osamu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut
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The perfect bunny
Pairing: Joel Miller x ff!reader
Summary: Christmas with Joel and bunny (for context joel is the boss of a group of criminals in the Boston QZ, and you are his girl)
Warnings: rushed writing, unprotected p in v sex, and a whole lot of fluff
A/n: Happy holidays guys, I love you all so very very much❤️
This is part of a series but it can be read alone. If you wanna read more of Joel and bunny, click here
He had done everything.
Everything you asked for, he had made come true.
Your house was filled with every Christmas decoration he had found in the whole QZ, garlands, mistletoe, little raindeers and Santa clauses overfilled your shelves, and then right there, in the middle of the living room, was the centerpiece... the tree, filled to the brim with ornaments you had put up together, as a family, because that's what you were, you and him, a family.
He even went as far as finding an old cd with christmas songs, all because you mentioned once how much you missed hearing them.
You'll never know what you did to deserve him, to deserve such unconditional, pure love, but what you didn't know is that he felt exactly the same, that the reason he did everything you asked, always, was because you had saved him in more ways he could have ever explained.
And now, now in a world gone to hell, in a world that in many ways wasn't even a world anymore, where people didn't live, but survived, thanks to him, and thanks to you, you were alive again, and you were celebrating Christmas in a way you thought had become unimaginable.
"this is for you" you grinned, handing him his neatly packaged present.
You were sat under the tree as you had insisted, having ignored his protests about his achy back.
"for me?" he asked, his excitement piercing through his tone.
He hadn't gotten a gift in years if he didn't count you, so of course he was happy.
"yes daddy, all for you" You nodded eagerly
"mhh" he hummed, unwrapping it with care, his lips splitting into one of those huge, almost childish smiles he didn't grant himself often enough.
"20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" he breathed, grasping the book as if it was the most precious treasure on this earth "Where did you even find this?"
You chuckled, leaning closer to him "You're not the only one who people answer to around here Miller"
"'s that right?" he smirked, amused
"damn right" you laughed, leaving a quick peck on his lips "You like it?"
"I love it bunny" he answered in a second, still smiling wholeheartedly "I can't believe you remembered, thank you"
"of course I remembered" you grinned, shaking your head before he brought his lips to yours again to show you just how grateful he was, which according to the way he didn't seem in any way willing to lean away, was a whole lot.
You giggled, breaking the kiss
"I've got you something too, baby"
Your eyes widened, every feature of yours brightening with glee.
"you did?" you smiled "I thought the ones you gave me this morning were my gifts" you murmured giddily.
"Not a chance bunny" he shook his head, stroking your cheek "Making you come is just as much your pleasure as it is mine"
You hummed in contentment, biting your bottom lip as he fished something out of his pajama pants, handing you a tiny wrapped something.
You took it in your hands, looking up at him with joy.
"I know the wrapping's not great," he said, a little self-conscious now that he saw what a gorgeous package you'd made him
"What are you talking about?" you reassured him "It's perfect, daddy"
You held your breath as you opened it, remaining immobilized at the sight before you once the paper was all gone.
It was a necklace. A tiny silver necklace, with the cutest bunny hanging at the bottom.
Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him, your hands shaking ever so little.
"Joel" you whispered, at a loss for words "This is... this is beautiful" you breathed "H-how did you even get it?"
"had to make just a few people mad, but that's about it" he shrugged, relishing in the amazement on your face.
"A few people?" you couldn't help but laugh, a small tear fleeing your eye "I-I don't know what to say, baby, this is- this is gorgeous"
"you don't have to say anything" he promised, "c'mon, let's go to the mirror so I can put it on you"
And so, with wobbly legs, you followed him to the mirror a few feet away at the entrance of your home.
He stepped beside you, and you handed him the piece, watching as he put it on you with care, leaving a little kiss on your shoulder when he was done.
And of course, it sat perfectly right between your chest, a little piece of him to carry everywhere you went.
"Joel I love it" you whispered "It's-it's perfect"
He hummed contently, his chin on your shoulder as he looked at your reflection
"A perfect bunny for my perfect bunny"
A smile erupted on your face at his words, and you couldn't help but turn around, towards him, towards the love of your life.
"thank you" you murmured, your hands on each side of his face, "thank you so much"
And then again, you were kissing, kissing as if there was no tomorrow, your lungs burning from how much oxygen you were robbing them of.
"I love you bunny" he breathed, earning another kiss
"I love you too, Joel" you promised, looking into his loving eyes for another moment before deciding on something.
"sit down," you said
"sit down?" he frowned, watching you confusedly
"just do it daddy" you laughed, taking his hand and guiding him to the couch
he did as told, his legs spread open and his eyes trained on you.
You could feel his gaze burn a hole in the back of your head as you walked over to the stereo to turn the volume up, a Christmas song flowing through the room better now.
"whatcha doing bunny?" he asked "You sure as hell better not be planning on handcuffing me again"
You laughed at that, and at the memory of the despair in his eyes that night.
"I'm not, daddy, don't worry" You smiled walking up to him until you were right in front of him,
"no, then what are you doing darlin'?"
"I'm thanking you" you said sweetly, your hips starting to gently move in synch with the sound
"'s that right?" he murmured, his eyes falling to your chest as you started unbuttoning the falnnel oh his covering it "what for?"
"mh" you hummed, smiling as you let the shirt fall to the floor "for everything daddy" you explained, slowly turning around and shimmying your shorts off your legs, making a show of bending down to pick them up just to throw them to your left.
he groaned at the sight, and you couldn't help but giggle, spinning back around.
"goddamn bunny" he purred, taking in every inch of your body as you started playing with the straps of your bra, forcing them to fall off your shoulders painfully slowly.
You looked as he watched every movement of yours like a hawk, and you would have teased him further if it wasn't that you were supposed to be thanking him.
So without any further ado, you undid the clasp of your bra, and let it fall to your feet, a soft "fuck" escaping his throat.
Next came your panties.
Your hips were still moving to the music as your fingers seeped through the waistband, gripping at the edge of them and then slowly pulling down, until they pooled at your feet making Joel's cock feel a moment away from bursting.
You smiled, wordlessly placing a hand on his shoulders to prop yourself up as you straddled his lap, his mouth immediately finding yours.
"thank you daddy" you whispered, kissing his cheek "Thank you for the necklace" Another kiss, now on right below his ear "Thank you for the decorations" now down his neck, your breath tickling his skin "for sitting under the tree even if your back hurts" you couldn't resist the urge to chuckle, your hands now trailing to his pants "thank you for the cd" again, another kiss on his neck, before you freed his cock from his pants, and looked up at him "thank you for everything daddy"
His cock slipped into you with ease, and he groaned loudly as you started moving on top of him, a position he didn't get to feel much (by his own volition), and you moaned into his mouth as you kissed him.
"thank you daddy" you continued, your words messy and breathy as you picked up your pace "for everything you do for me everyday" you said, his cock feeling every bit as good as ever "for- for listening to me" you moaned "and taking care of me" his dick was so deep you could feel it in your belly, hitting your g-spot with each of your movements "and for letting me take care of you" you smiled, as he gripped your waist, savoring the sight before him "t-thank you so much daddy" you breathed, embarrassingly enough slowing down, your thighs on fire.
"you're tired" he murmured with amusement
"no 'm not" You shook your head, trying to pick up your pace and failing miserably
"no?" he asked, smirking like a bastard
"no" you denied again, smiling a little at your obvious lie
"lay down bunny" he tried to persuade you
"no way" you protested "I'm supposed to be treating you daddy, to be thanking you"
"trust me this pussy of yours is enough of a thank you for a million lives"
"daddy..." you pouted, trying to convince him
"what if I just help out a bit, hm?" he asked, watching your eyes brighten
"just a bit" you accepted, and in a moment, he was thrusting up into you, and only a moment later, you were moaning loudly at the feeling, the thought of doing all the work well out the window.
"thank you daddy" you cried, "I love you so much" you promised, your orgasm taking over you
"thank you babygirl" he grunted "for being in my life" he said, his words falling into your gaped mouth "for making everything better"
"for being you" he breathed, watching as you came all over his cock "for being the best thing that ever happened to me, bunny"
#joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller fluff#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fluff#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
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boss benefits — simon riley "ghost" 💀🏴☠️
─── ☆ attention: english is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes, just clearing the web that I let accumulate; I missed writing, diving into something to get away from life, asks are open, and I write to all the men of cod (characters by Pedro Pascal & house of the dragon <3)
─── ☆ summary: What would you do to stand out? To take on a mission you always wanted to finally have new opportunities? Would you be willing to give everything? were you willing to sleep with your Lieutenant?
─── ☆ warings📣: +18, MDNI | Allusions to an unhappy marriage, Simon is a scoundrel here, a bit dark (since you have sex to get a job) , possessiveness, size kink, creampie, unprotected sex, sexual desire, sexual tension, Simon is jealous of his boyfriend (he doesn't admit it, but competes), infidelity, oral sex (m/f), mention of procreation, infidelity, abuse of power, hierarchical relationship, position advantage, extramarital relationship, both have relationships, mentions of lust, prosmic sex, high sexual attraction, big dick (I know, I know, Simon is a big boy), Simon makes fun of the reader's boyfriend a lot, Simon lives in a loveless relationship.
"Lieutenant?" You asked as you pushed open the door to his office, perhaps it was to ask for a new report or to explain the briefing for your newest mission.
But when you opened the door, you noticed Ghost's body leaning against the table, he was in uniform, the mask covering only his lips, his honey eyes looking at you, you couldn't help but smile softly while showing his teeth.
You can't help but see the rectangular photograph, the gold-colored frame on his desk, displaying the happy photo of him next to his wife, Lisa, Lana or Lenny, you don't even remember her name. "Do you really want that mission?" His bitter tone of voice, so drawn out and thick that it almost made you think you were negotiating with the devil himself.
The mission that you begged so much to be in your hands, you wanted, was a mission in an area that always interested you, come on, you even studied to perform such a role, but Simon said he would give you an answer, and you were grateful for himself for letting go of his laziness and coming to his office at night.
"Of course I do, Lieutenant." The way you seemed convinced you believed it would be the best for you, he couldn't help but laugh beneath the mask, a little thing like you saying you could take it all. You had fire in your eyes, and Simon wanted to taste that fire.
"Whatever you're willing to do, I say." He cleared his throat while crossing his arms over his chest, raising his body even higher. "Many other soldiers asked me for it, it's an important mission, to show your values and skills. Why do you think you deserve this mission?"
"I'm the most qualified, I'm tired of kissing babies or hugging people." The last mission, after saving a pile of hostages, you ended up becoming more popular in talking in front of the cameras — you were a kind, sweet woman and the photos of you holding a baby in your arms almost made everyone call you an 'angel' of the task force. You even got a five-day vacation to spend with your boyfriend, thanks to everything you saw, to all the scary things you saw while saving them. "That's not for me, Lieutenant."
"You still haven't answered me, little thing." The harsh tone, the way he leaned in, touching your chin with the same hand that had the gold ring on it, he was flirting with you, sending all codes of professional ethics to hell, the way he leaned in, without Don't even care about the photo on the table, the photo is his wedding. "What are you willing to give me... for this job to be yours alone."
You should run, escape, warn the HR people about his strange attitudes - no strange, he was harassing you, insinuating that you should give him something to get a job, this was against all regulations, using his own power to obtain sexual favors. But you knew, the army would never send him away, would never dismiss him, he was one of the most competent agents on the military installation.
Reporting him would ruin your career, it would throw all your efforts in the trash if you told anyone about it. Closing your own eyes while looking at him, why was he insinuating this? His wife was young, pretty, and you had a boyfriend - damn, why are you creating reasons not to have sex with him? "Simon, your wife doesn't deserve this, my boyfriend, Devon, doesn't deserve this."
"Don't be silly, little girl." The little flick he gave you on the nose, laughing as he noticed you dodge, trying to get away from him, were you creating reasons? Did you want it so much that you needed to create excuses to stay away? - "Look, don't see this as cheating, sex or whatever is in your head. See it as a business transition."
He laughed, you could almost see the wrinkles forming under his eyes, you could almost feel the way he was offering to have an affair with you. "We're not going to kiss, honey, I don't want you to kiss me, love me or leave your pathetic little boyfriend."
The silence that fell, your throat was dry, you seemed disappointed to know that there wouldn't be kisses? - the entire environment was silent, I could hear your mind pounding, I could hear the doubts, the uncertainty, and even the desire to have sex with your superior. Everything was silent for a few minutes, it seemed like an eternity, all the doubts, the uncertainties, the doubts, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him.
"you'll never tell anyone this, right?" you should be ashamed to accept it, you should walk away — leave, not accept this damn job and simply deny it, be faithful to your boyfriend, don't cheat on another woman, don't let him cheat on his marriage with you, in a damn case.
The way he took off his mask, showing off his thin lips, his strong facial expressions, his Greek nose as he couldn't help but laugh as he walked towards the door. He looked at your body, noticing that you were probably close to going to bed when they told you that he wanted to talk to you, his attentive eyes analyzing you, your curves, the entire contour of your body. "It will be a shame to never tell anyone that I was with a woman just like you, sweet." The pet name almost made you tremble, he spoke as if he had honey between his teeth. "But I agree, we can't let others know. It would be bad for my marriage and your little boyfriend- he would finally have to learn how to fuck a real woman."
At first it was strange approaching him, your lips tilting slightly, you didn't know where to touch, you didn't know how he liked kisses or how he liked to be touched, he approached, forgetting that it was you who wouldn't kiss you, but he lied, and you were stupid to believe him. Your eyes connected to each other, slow and slow steps towards each other, as if you were reading the deepest secrets of each other's souls — reading the darkest secrets that could exist, almost creating your own rhythm, a speed of yours. two. Simon couldn't help but bite his lip, he would be lying if he said he never desired your lips.
At first the kiss was so calm, sensitive, your lips pressing against each other, in an absurd harmony they were having, he held your face while he deepened the kiss, prolonging it, asking for passage with his lips, and when you moaned into his mouth of him, pulling his hair, everything seemed to go dark, to darken, your breathing in tune, your chest rising and falling, you needed to breathe, you needed air, oxygen, you needed so many things, Simon's hoarse voice, the way he just He smiled when he noticed how confused, airy and so confused you were.
"I have one condition" you pulled away from his lips, as you tried your best to hold on to something, fuck, you always imagined the sweet com could be his lips - you always knew he was as hot as the devil himself.
He couldn't help but laugh, finding it so curious how you didn't push him away during the kiss, quite the opposite, he saw your eyes on his lips, he saw desire in you, lust, tension, so many things that were more than enough. just an arrangement, an agreement. "What's your condition, pretty."
"I want you to use a condom." It was your lifeline, of course you imagined the texture of Simon's fresh semen filling your pussy, you knew it was wrong, wishing another man would cum in you while forcing your own boyfriend to use a condom, it was so comical, the man who knew your parents couldn't cum, but Simon had the approval to do so?
"We have a little problem. I don't have a condom." He wasn't lying, tilting his gaze at you as he walked away, he didn't have condoms, since he always made his own wife take care of birth control a lot, he didn't want accidents, he didn't want an unwanted child, but with you, he didn't even At least he cared about his own regulations of only having sex when he was aware of birth control.
"I have a condom in my boyfriend's room, I can get it."
“don’t be stupid princess, do you think it fits me?” You wanted to hit him for being arrogant, he was just being self-centered by telling you that he had a huge dick, but before you could even argue that he was lying or making excuses, he took your hands in his, feeling the soft and smooth texture, so Sweet as an addictive drug, he fell into your trap.
He let you feel him, feeling the volume, but he made a point of undoing his belt, lowering the waistband of his pants, making you see his dick, the red bridge leaking, the thick outline, covered in bluish veins, you couldn't let it go and Closing his eyes, biting his lips, realizing how huge he is, Simon couldn't help but laugh when he noticed how surprised his eyes were, when he noticed that he had a huge cock. Simon knew he had a huge dick, fuck, he knew he should be proud to have all that stuff in his pants. "What's wrong, doesn't your boyfriend have a huge dick, kitten?"
You hated how cocky he seemed, how full of ego he seemed, surely getting so many compliments for having a huge dick that he probably got a big ego. "shut up. I want you to take it off before you cum."
"Yes ma'am."
And there you were again, crushing your lips against his, feeling the way your body shivered, he knew it was wrong - but he couldn't lie and say he was sorry about cheating on his wife, he didn't care, he didn't even care. The way he was devouring your neck, crushing his lips against your skin, giving bites, hickeys and even licks, loving the way it gave you goosebumps, how you squirmed in his arms. "You seem so needy, no man has ever touched you."
He was groping your body, crushing your breasts against his own hands, he could feel how round they were, even under a pile of clothes. Pulling at clothes, removing buttons and buttons, watching your skin be revealed, flesh soft and supple, he knew he shouldn't leave marks, that he shouldn't have the boldness, but he did, he marked you, bit your skin, kissed.
Simon couldn't help but moan when he felt your hands wrapped around his cock - starting to masturbate him, moving his fists around him, feeling his cock throbbing, the veins bulging, how hot it was, how luscious, fuck, he'd never had a man with such a strong reaction to simply touching. You stayed for a few minutes, teasing each other, Simon exploring your skin, discovering all the pieces, all the contours, trying to remember in his own memory what you were like, he would record this moment, because he didn't know when it would happen again.
And that would be his best secret, the image that would pass through his mind every moment he had, remembering how your body reacts to being touched, to being kissed, to being loved, he knew it was wrong to give you the role of a lover, an affair, how he hated not being able to love you with open doors, to reduce you to just that, an affair of a married man. When he saw you kneel, see you on your knees for him, he could almost cum, he could almost feel the air getting thin, you almost stopped breathing.
"how do you.. like being sucked?" He couldn't help but find it so captivating, did you want to please him? You wanted to know how he wanted you, you wanted to engrave yourself in his mind like gum.
"Just do what you do with your boyfriend, hmm?" That was a lie, he wanted it to be even better, for you to suck him with more love than you sucked your boyfriend, he wanted you to be even better with him but it was with that loser.
"If you talk about him, I'll get dressed and leave." You didn't want to remember that you were a damn traitor, that you were about to suck a man who wasn't your boyfriend, and to make matters worse, a man who was wearing a ring. When you opened your mouth, starting to suck the base of his cock — sliding your tongue along the slit, while holding his base so tightly, you loved how needy Simon seemed to feel your mouth against him.
When you started to suck him, sliding your mouth around his entire contour - the warm, wet mouth surrounding him, as you began to slide in and out, just wrapping the glans around your mouth, you couldn't help but smile when he wrapped it around you. his hand in your hair, fuck, you could feel his wedding ring against your head.
Simon couldn't help but smile when he saw you smiling, seeing the outline of your lips against his, seeing your eyes so big as you tried to relax your throat to take him, you've never taken a huge cock, while you felt the weight of his cock against your tongue. He waited for you to be ready, as he started to move his hips, hitting the back of your throat, he could see you fighting the urge to choke, there was saliva running down your chest, you were willing to take him whole, to please him , you knew that anyone could notice that you and Simon were missing.
You move your head back and forth, breathing through your nose as you move your tongue around him, trying your best to pleasure him, you didn't care about the pain in your throat, you would probably have to drink tea the next morning, and when you heard Simon's moans, you can't help but continue, now hungrier, taking him so deep in your throat, starting to choke around him, the disheveled sounds, Simon's moans and with him he seemed so excited to see you giving a blowjob sloppy, not caring about his appearance, he looked like a slut who would get paid a lot of money, but no, you were doing it willingly, trying to please him, trying to be good to him, sucking a married man.
Fuck, Simon imagined all the perverted things he could do, he could take a picture of himself like this, but he didn't want to be such a bad man. He was close to cumming, close to emptying down your throat and even though he wanted to see you swallow him — or cumming on your face, he couldn't wait, he wanted to hear you moan for him.
He used all the strength he had, placing you on the desk, laughing when he saw the photograph fall to the floor, his wedding photo shattered, and he didn't even care, stepping on the broken frame, crushing the happy image of his wedding, separating at your legs, taking off your panties, he almost salivated at the sight of your wet pussy, at the sight of how wet you were for him, patting your clit and just laughing when you moaned.
He wanted to make fun of you, laugh a little, but he just wanted to feel your pussy around him, smell your sweet and soft scent, he leaned over, not caring about his spine curved in a bad position, as he started rubbing your clit. with a circle of his tongue — like a kitten testing the water, and when it tastes sweet, damn, he can't help but growl, opening your legs even wider, using his own weight and arms to open you up. "Fuck, I can live under your legs. That wet pussy."
He purred as he went back to sucking you, playing with your clit, drinking in all your excitement, trying his best to make you wet, patting you to see how wet you were, spreading your legs, separating your legs, putting you on top of the shoulders. Damn, all those moans you let out as he attacked your pussy, moaning as if you had never received quality oral sex, if he was your boyfriend he would never leave your legs, he would leave with you hanging on his shoulders, lifting the head just to speak politely to people.
Noticing his wet mouth, feeling your scent stuck right under his nose, as you arched over the table, feet shaking, crushing your hands against his hair, you were close to pulling his hair, messing up his hairstyle, those straw hair stuck between your fists, you were close to cumming, close to messing up everything around you, moaning loudly, squirming.
As you arched your back, rising and leaning, you wanted to close your legs, but Simon couldn't help but fight you, using his arms as a kind of screwdriver to let you open. Tapping hard on your clit while rubbing two fingers against your entrance, making you take his fingers, feeling your cum soak his fingers, feeling how you were crushing his fingers. "Fuck, Simon!"
When he lifted himself up, you couldn't help but see his forehead covered in sweat, his lips stained with your juices, he couldn't help but smile at how confused you were, how high you were from your orgasm, as he pulled you in for more. close, he needed to stick it inside you before he came, the taste of your pussy, the taste against his tongue. Fuck, he was dripping like a beast, his dick so hard and throbbing he might have blue balls if he didn't come, when you pulled him closer, wrapping your legs around his hips, you were a demon, and he should have known from that.
"don't do that to a man baby.. it makes any man greedy." Seeing your eyes, how you were kissing him, how he was crushing his body against you. He felt his cock rubbing against your wet folds, and when you pushed in, he had to bite his lips, his jaw clenched, you were so tight, so wet, so welcoming that it took everything he had not to cum on the first thrust. . "You're a glove inside, as tight as a fucking virgin."
He was rambling, talking out loud, he never felt like this, he never needed to pull his dick out to relieve it, fuck, he didn't want to cum on the first thrust, he didn't want to disappoint you, he didn't know when he would have the chance again and I wanted to enjoy every second. You couldn't help but laugh, noticing how fucked he was, how he had hurt his own lips sinking his teeth in to hold himself back, he kept fucking himself, just pushing his head in and out, moaning as he felt the obscene sounds, the smell of sex in the entire office.
When he crushed his hands around your hips, using one of his arms to keep you from struggling before he fucked you into oblivion, before he fucked you like a beast. Feeling your hands against the back of his neck as you began to move, laughing as he moved in and out of you, seeing you roll your eyes and scratch at his shoulders, scratch at his back, he can feel you shaking against him, You can feel how deep you were, your pussy was wrapping around him so tightly.
You knew you shouldn't be moaning in another man's arms, you shouldn't be letting a man without a condom enter you, fuck, you could feel the cold, golden ring against your skin, throw your head back, feeling the sounds of sex, the creaking table, the obscene sounds your pussy was making as it clenched around him. Feeling him fuck him balls deep inside you, he knew there would be so many bruises, marks that were too difficult to explain to the people who were waiting for you at home, but damn, he didn't care.
The violent rhythm that your bodies intertwined, you were both sinning, you were both getting sick, he loved feeling the texture of your skin, how your pussy clenched around him, and when he buried himself deep inside, the way your eyes rolled back, the air that was trapped in his chest and his head thrown back, his nail scratched him as if his skin was a whiteboard ready to be painted, exposed and displayed as a beautiful work of art.
The heavy breathing, the sounds, the harsh and hot noises, Simon was growling, feeling your pussy to squeeze a huge amount of you, the smell of sex, all the items on the table hitting the floor, Simon didn't care about the mess, with all the papers, the cock buried, in and out the wet and lasives sounds, while the rhythm was so slow, he wanted to hear you moan — to hear you beg for his cock, beg for the mark, for the contour of his cock against your pussy . "Fuck, keep moaning for me, I want to remember how you can be so loving."
He noticed your bright eyes, the way you bit your own lip just to make him angry, and fuck, he started moving so slow, so slow, thrusting all the way in at a deadly pace, letting your clit rub against his His abdomen, just looking down Simon thought he was going to fill you up, the simple sight of almost burying his balls inside you drives him crazy, makes him so animalistic, lost in desire, bathing in lust.
His hips rock almost naturally, the sight of your lubrication gushing against his cock, the obscene sound of your pussy and how your moans sound so loud and needy, it was almost like another impulse to slide his fingers up to your clit, he wanted you Seeing you cum for him, seeing how your eyes rolled back, how your body would tremble against his, god, he was so wild.
Simon feels his charms completely over you, the way your belly twitched, he can feel the way you hugged him even tighter with your legs, almost forbidding him to leave, creating a limitation that made him almost merge. Your body rose from the table, your spine arching, your hair spread across the table, it was like a damn overdose, better than the adrenaline of being on the field. Your eyes were so dilated, your moans were confused, altered, the orgasm made you so needy, the way you looked at Simon, almost like a succubus ready to drain every drop of semen he had.
He knows he should have used the strength of his own body to pull away, to cum on his belly and even his thighs — the guilt was already gone, he didn't even remember his wife's name, Lisa, Lenny or anything, his mind was just I could think about you, your body, your pussy that seemed made for his dick, even the shock against your cervix. "I need you, Simon-"
His eyes were heavy, his hands were squeezing your flesh so tightly, as if he was stopping you from slipping between his fingers, he was so close to filling you, the way his name rolled across your tongue, as if it were a prayer, a song that you were the only singer who gave meaning to the musician. "Fuck, I'm going to fill you up..."
The devilish smile that played on those lips, now you know how Lucifer fell as he tried to dominate and rule heaven, the distorted pleasure before your eyes, the danger, the chance to father his child - the marks of the alliance against your skin If it's so wrong why did it feel so good in your mind?
Instead of pushing him away, yelling at him, telling him he's gone crazy, it was as if he had opened a box with all his darkest desires, fathering a married man's child, destroying a home, you should be ashamed, but all he felt was pleasure, desire, knowing that he was so immersed in this that he was willing to lose everything. Giving up everything he had for years, simply to fill you up.
The way Simon's hips seemed ready to give way, he was like a machine, rough like metal hitting you over and over again, and you were made of porcelain, fragile and struggling not to break, he was hitting you over and over again against your uterus, he was insatiable, it would only stop when it spilled, when all the semen was dripping from your pussy, he didn't even care how red, swollen and baked it would be. He could only think about the feeling, fucking you again, using his own cum as lubricant, imagining how your pussy would still accept him even after he had cum.
Knowing that you weren't letting your loser boyfriend do that, but you were letting him, a man who had his wife's photo on the table, the frame that was now broken — he didn't even know where it had fallen, if he was stepping on it or anything. thing, you pussy was his only focus, your body against his. The simple thought made him come, the firm, thick jets being spurted inside you, looking at you is seeing your eyes closed, your body trembling, he filled your pussy, and instead of pushing him away, you moaned, leaving another man marks you, another man kisses you, another man tastes and delights in your body.
Simon didn't want to leave, even though he heard the sound in the hallway, knowing that at any moment someone could open the door, but he didn't care about the danger, the suspension they would both receive, or the gossip spreading through the hallways. He just smiled, your breaths mixing, you didn't move a single centimeter, you knew your legs would give way - but you still did your best to lean over and sit down, the semen running down your leg, dirtying the carpet.
He was a knight, taking your panties that he had stolen minutes ago, cleaning your pussy, just rubbing the leaked semen and smiling as he smiled. "Never handled a big dick? If you want, I can walk you to your room."
"Don't feel cocky, you looked like a drooling dog tasting pussy for the first time" He couldn't help but laugh as he leaned in, giving you a soft kiss on your lips. "Unlike you, I assume my sins"
You gave him a light push, and he just smiled. "We are two sinners, the difference is that you will convince yourself that you have not sinned, and I-" he showed you semen-stained panties. "I like to remember my sins."
©thingsnia is the author and owner of the content, do not translate or post on another platform.
#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley smut#nia ; things ☆#﹟⠀notion's nia⠀୧#ⓘ 🧷 nia : smut#💀 simon riley by nia#cod mw2#ghost cod#cod x reader#Spotify
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YANDERE! DELINQUENT! OC x READER
As celebration for 1K followers and 1K likes on the HAIRPIN | POPPED short fic. I have drawn a sketch of Mori and made another fic for you all ! Enjoy ;D
Please read the previous fic linked above for context.
warnings: [y/n] is masc leaning though i don’t use anything specific to describe them. [y/n] is kind of a terrible person. perv! mori. mentions of sex. underwear theft. stalking. m. masturbation.
IT TOOK MORI AN EMBARRASSING AMOUNT OF TIME TO NOTICE THAT YOU TWO WERE IN THE SAME CLASS. But now that he knew, he made sure to attend as much as he can. Shamelessly staring at you like he was about to have you as his next meal.
This would have prompted your classmates to warn you, if you weren’t such a menace and a half yourself.
From what Mori learned from his stalking, you were about as bad as he was when it came to physical hostility only that yours came in the form of verbal and emotional assaults. You were known for turning even the most popular person in campus into an outcast with just a click of a button. It became your job to basically be on the know-how of everyone. You probably knew everything there is about Mori himself.
He found out after seeing an underclassman confess to you. Poor kid had his heart shattered when you told him that you shared his declined terrific confessions about wanting to be railed by you, to not only the entire school, but the internet as well.
What was even worse was that kid still liked you after all that. Apparently you two were acquaintances and he had unknowingly saved the junior from getting his ass beat by kicking the bullies’. And that led to you and Mori meeting.
Tch. Why did he have to owe that lanky piece of shit the honor of encountering you?
After going through the 5 stages of grief that is falling in love with you. Mori decided to just fuck it and accept the fact that he ain’t getting you out of his heart and/or mind anytime soon.
Might as well indulge his feelings.
By that he means following you everywhere.
And he means everywhere.
His lackeys are so confused. Why was Boss stalking you? You had a horrid reputation like him, but you only attacked when provoked. But the way Boss was staring you down said otherwise. His horny was mistaken as anger.
This would have prompted them to ‘deal’ with you. If you didn’t threaten their social lives.
So for the next month it had been a standstill. Until one fateful day. When you dragged him to a dark, abandoned shed behind the school.
And started taking off your pants/skirt, and your undergarments. Your genitalia out for show.
“Wh-Wha—Wait— I’m—“ He stuttered. He’d seen you strip many times before. Even masturbating inside your closet and on your bed. But seeing you do it right in front of him with nothing between you two was still . . . new but nice . . . and a tad bit overwhelming.
“It’s my underwear.” You dangle the piece of cloth on front of his face. Using your free hand to put your pants/skirt back on.
“I can see that, why are you giving me your dirty ass—“
“I was thinking it may have been the kid. Taking all my laundry and all that. But then you started following me everywhere.”
“Y-You knew?!”
“I was guessing. But now I know.” You shrugged casually, as if you hadn’t just dropped the biggest bombshell in the world. As if you hadn’t just exposed his depraved actions towards youz
“Which brings me to my next point, I want you to go out with me.”
“What?!”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“YES! I mean, yes — But . . . why ?”
“Well it’s an equal exchange. I’d have a boyfriend to stop all those pesky confessions and attempts at my life, which you have been doing for me in the background. Thank you, by the way—“
“You’re- You’re welcome? You could have said something—“
“Let me talk properly before I change my mind.” Tired of holding your underwear, you decided to throw it on his face before continuing, “And you, get to take all the underwear you’d like. Get to take me on all the dates you’d like. Maybe even fuck me in whatever place or position you’d like.”
This was too good to be true. Mori was leaking from the words coming out your mouth, but he had to make sure he wasn’t getting himself into a situation he didn’t want.
“What’s the catch?”
“It’s simple. Know your place. I take the reins of this relationship. Not you. I make the decisions and adjustments to this exchange. Not you. We’ll break up when I say so. So there’s no backing out on your terms I’m afraid.”
The arrangements seemed unfair. Too perfect. It wasn’t as if he’ll break up with you at any moment, he’ll just have to focus on keeping your eyes on him. There was nothing to be afraid of. Doubt still permeated, but even then . . .
“Deal.” He answered immediately. The benefits were too good to care about essentially being a guard dog. He might as well indulge as he has been.
This time without the time spent hesitating on his decision.
“Let’s make good on that deal right now, shall we?”
[ YANDERE DELINQUENT / MORI CHARACTER PROFILE ]
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagine#yandere fic#yandere oc#oc#original character#yandere oc x reader#yandere original character x reader#yandere x you#yandere oc x you#yandere original character x you#yandere smut#yandere lemon#yandere lime#original character art#yandere concept#yandere fiction#tw yandere#tw stalking#yandere x reader smut#yandere x you smut#oc art#yan oc#yandere delinquent#switch yandere#yandere character#yandere chara#yandere character x you#hns.art🎨
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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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hi, jelly 💕 bee here!
about the Miguel blurbs, how about this: Migs has a crush on reader, but he tries to ignore his feelings and treats her like he would anyone else. but when reader gets stood up on a date, Miguel crumbles and comforts her.
it can be on Spider-Verse or any other au you prefere.
sending you lots of love!
Bee my lauvv!! Ty for the request!!! 🖤🖤🖤I also made it so you have a crush on Miguel too hehe. Here ya go!!
Stood up
Miguel O'Hara x Fem Spider!Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
CW: ANGST, FLUFF, BETRAYAL, PINING. MIGUEL AVOIDING FEELINGS, BIT SUGGESTIVE, MINORS DNI
----
Your boss is a hard egg to crack. You do your best to impress him. Going the extra mile, setting an example to your fellow spiders, even fine with bearing the label of boring co-worker once in a while when you gracefully shut down the banter between you, Hobie, Pav, Gwen, Margo, and Miles that has gone on a little too long. Reminding everyone to stay on task.
You do it for him after all. You pity the guy, just wanting to be the reason he has one less frown line and one less grey streak in his hair.
Also the fact that he's really handsome and has just about every quality you admire in a person. But that's besides the point.
He keeps the same stoic look on his face, almost like he's tired of you. After a while, you get the picture, backing off little by little. Doing your best to put all your efforts into being the best Spidey you can for your Earth. Putting your handsome boss out of your mind.
For now.
----
Of course he notices. He's not a professional at social cues but come on, you make it so obvious. How you wait up for him, the way you stop what you're doing just to turn your attention to him not even a second after he enters a room. You must have memorized his footfalls coming from a mile away, and not just because of your Spidey senses.
But the worst part is the fact that he not only notices. He also appreciates it more than you know. And what you don't know is he feels the same if not more strongly about you than you could ever imagine.
Shock.
Thank God that spiders aren't mind readers, a deep blush painting his face at the thought of you accessing the diary of cringe that was his brain that housed the obsessive and love sick thoughts he had about you.
You were everything Spider-Woman (or let's be honest, more like his dream employee) should be. Composed, focused, thorough, calculated, patient, and PUNCTUAL. (arguably his favorite quality out of all of them)
But one thing you won't get out of him is any blaring indication that this silly little crush exists. No, there's a multiverse worth saving that is permanently at the risk of imploding at a moment's notice, all because a Vulture decided to have a heyday on the beach in some aquatic dimension because he's never seen the ocean before.
No, he needs to keep it all business. Repeating that mantra in his head over and over again every time you come walking in with that glow on your face that he could just pluck effortlessly out of a crowd of many.
She's just like everyone else. She's just like everyone else.
But damnit when you showed him that gorgeous smile.
Those deep eyes of yours. Bottomless.
Sucking him in like the holes in the multiverse he dedicated his entire life to patching.
And when you spoke, it was like you had his full attention. Putting that advanced hearing to good use as he tuned out the rest to hone in on what enriching thing you had to say next, no matter how mundane it was. Clutching it like he was a seagull and you were a loaf of bread shredding crumbs.
---
To stifle the burning sting of rejection, you found your attention being taken by another, golden haired Spider-Man, Ben Reilly.
He'd tell jokes occasionally, smirking when you returned with equal friendly fire, indulging you with letting you try out his protein shakes and spotting you at the gym, jaw falling open with surprise and a growing attraction when you continuously reset your PR.
You thought you weren't misreading the signs he was giving you. He wasn't shying away from your touch. In fact, he was the one who couldn't keep his hands off of you. Feeling yourself get warm in tingly places when his hand lingered on the small of your back.
When you were eating the famous Miguel burgers in the cafeteria and he used his thumb to get a stain of ketchup off your lips, definitely making a point to keep those electric blues on you as he slowly brought the ketchup stained finger to his own mouth, licking it up.
But I guess you did.
Even though he was the one that pulled you into the closet, stealing breathy moans from your lungs as you kissed him like he was your only source of oxygen.
Even if he did tell you he's always been obsessed with you.
Even if he did send you memes and songs that reminded him of you.
Even if he did send you "Goodnight, beautiful." every night before he fell asleep.
And you sat there on the picnic blanket waiting with enough food for two people for the date HE asked you out on only to leave you hanging instead, wondering where he was all afternoon.
You made the mistake of calling his watch, only for a mystery woman's voice mixed with his, and sinful sounds to come out of it.
You hung up with tears stinging your vision.
No matter how perfect you tried to be or how diligent you were, how interesting or funny you thought you could be, how pretty you thought you looked, somehow every time you decided to lower your guard just a little bit, life swiftly humbled you and made you realize you should have never taken it down.
You weren't good enough for Miguel and you weren't good enough for Ben. You're a silly girl who projects her unrealistic standards onto things that just don't happen in real life.
Or maybe they just don't happen for you.
-----
Miguel is checking on the baby ducklings by the pond at the Spider Society HQ gardens when he hear what sounds like soft crying coming from a little spot tucked between some trees. Curious, he follows it until he finds you down on your luck, stood up by a guy who wasn't worth your time.
This tough guy act he had put up crumbles instantly when he sees tears flowing down your cheeks for the first time. There was no reason a lovely woman like you, who wouldn't hurt a fly, who worked her ass off, who was kind to others,
who inhabited every single thought he had and kept him awake at night, should be crying like that.
"You okay...?" He asks, ducking underneath a branch, sitting on the blanket with his feet off to the side so he doesn't spread any dirt on it.
"Heh...no..." you answer weakly, occupying your hands by opening a canned Arnold Palmer and popping a cracker covered in the homemade spinach artichoke dip into your mouth.
"¿Porqué?" (Why?) He leans forward on his elbows, patient cardinals peering at you waiting for your response.
So, you explain to him how you started falling for this guy and he sent you all these signs that said he was falling for you too, only for the road to lead to a dead end and a broken down car of disappointment, catching him standing you up to go mess around with some other girl instead.
Miguel silently seethes on your behalf, not loving hearing how wrapped around this guy's finger you were but happy to sit and listen if that's what you needed to feel better.
When you tell him it was Ben, he already has a little something planned for him, hoping that HR won't catch up to him for switching Ben's assignment to Earth-67. (A dimension with a notoriously annoying reputation among spider society with ungrateful and sassy inhabitants. That should do the trick.)
Besides he's the boss. Rules can bend if he wants them to. And he normally would never do this but he'd just about do anything for you.
".....I even made club sandwiches." You sigh at the end of your rant, gesturing to the stacked sandwiches in their matching containers with cute little puns written on them.
Miguel feels his mouth salivate at the buffet you got there. But that was the least of his concerns. He's here to cheer you up, not steal your food.
But, I mean, there's no way you can eat all of this by yourself, right?
His stomach makes a lengthy announcement to both of you that he hasn't eaten in 12 hours, much to his embarrassment.
With a smile, you shyly ask him if he wants to help you out here, since you'd hate for all this food to go to waste.
That's what lead to you both munching happily, the sun sinking lower in the sky but you both paid no mind, thoroughly enjoying the other's company.
That old little crush of yours started to set alight once again while his just fanned into an all out wildfire. Never guessing that actually spending some time alone together would go so well or that you'd wind up speaking like you've known each other for years.
"What is the perfect job for a spider?" He asks.
"Mmm, I give up."
"A web developer."
"Hah...uh...yeah... that one's honestly terrible." You shake your head, realizing your sense of humor really has gone downhill in recent years if that's the best one you could find.
He rolls up the sticky note, tossing it into the garbage bag of shame. "Total squander of his talents if you ask me."
Your turn, "Why was the spider so smart?" You barely wait five seconds before you answer your own joke.
"He spends all his time on the world wide web!"
"Lies." Miguel says with a chomp of his sandwich.
"What do you mean?!"
"Utter lies. I know anyone who spends more than an hour online daily is not the brightest." He smirks as he pops another spinach artichoke dipped chip in his mouth.
"Coming from the guy with over 6 surveillance monitors he watches every day from 9-5!"
"I work from 5-8 but that's besides the point."
You suddenly feel brave, after spending over two hours letting him cheer you up, deciding to put your comfort with him to the test.
"Well, you think you could shave off a couple hours for me so we can do this again next week?"
He looks at you like you're the answer to his prayers.
Yes, yes absolutely he could.
---
And so it became weekly. Then it became daily. Until you no longer needed a picnic basket.
Both sandwiches in complimenting lunch bags side by side in your shared refrigerator of your shared home together.
He smiles down at you while you sleep, knowing he slipped you an extra dessert in yours that he thinks you'll really like, closing his eyes to savor the final 3 minutes you have side by side before you both need to get up and shower for work.
----
🫶🏽
@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel x reader#miguel atsv#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara fluff#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel x you
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HEY THERE, SUBW4Y GIRL
one-last-stop au ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ | e.williams x fem!reader
cw? reader is painfully bad at asking women out (she will get better dw) new characters introduced, plot is beginning, literally just fluff for now, book dialog and possible(not really) spoilers, not proofread
nari note ᝰ.ᐟ Hi! I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the support on the first part of this series, it really motivates me to keep going and I hope I don't disappoint! Im not staying entirely book accurate but If you've read the book and want certain scenes to show up then please let me know! If you'd like to be part of the taglist then lmk also! That's all for now, and thank you again ♡
m.list [๋࣭🪻] part one [ 🌆 ] palestine-resources & daily click
"The spark in Subway girls eyes ignites so brilliantly that August half expect her to jump out her seat. "Wait, that's my sandwich! I invented it!" ── page 35
Weekday evening shifts were your favorite.
The lights were always dim, painting the old diner atmosphere in hues of orange and amber, and with how slow it was, you weren't forced to run around hoping that table six wouldn't holler you over as you ran to get pancakes for table nine. It was actually quite nice at times.
Being a waitress at a 24/7 diner was not in your plans when you moved away from your last campus all the way in the other corner of the country, but Millers was nice. The building, despite it’s age and outdated fashion, was homey and even with the annoyance of leaving the place smelling like pancake batter and greasey bacon, it was a place youve come to hold dear in your heart.
Having a soft spot for the place and liking your job, however, didn’t mean that you were necessarily good at it a hundred percent of the time. Sleep deprived rushes particularly, made you loath coming in saturday evenings, but today was good.
The evening had been going relatively smooth so far. In the two and a half weeks you’ve worked here, your mistakes have leveled down to now and then little to mix-ups —not counting wedsdays slip up— and your boss, Eliza, had yet to come in and save the day by placing an extra plate of toast on your tray when you accidentally forget them in the kitchen.
With it being close to nine on a Thursday, work was slow, thus, you found yourself leaning on the front counter scribbling random drawings on your notepad with a Miller’s House Of Pancakes pen in hand. With the scribbling, you mindlessly began to reflect on your week so far; your first full day of lectures went well, and balancing work and lectures hasn't been so bad yet ──but then again, the semester just started. Rent was coming up and you had saved enough to pay your share of the apartment and really other than Monday morning's coffee accident, things have been good.
Monday morning…
Subway girl.
Truth be told, you hadn't stopped thinking about the pretty stranger you met on the train a little over three days ago. Sure, she may have only offered her kindness out of pitty at the sight of your teary face, but it was something touching to you nonetheless. It was something that she needed that day, spmething that went right. You didn't see her on your commute to work earlier today, and a part of you couldn't help but feel disappointed. She was just some girl ──green eyes, freckled cheeks, tall and teasing── you had talked to for no more than five minute and yet your mind couldn't stop replaying her smile and her fingers brushing the curve of your shoulders as she wrapped her scarf around you.
You were hopeless
Eliza comes up behind you, shaking her head with a tut of her tongue as she perches her elbow on the counter beside you. "Slacking off on the job, new girl?" Her brow was arched and despite the edge in her tone, you could tell she wasn't exactly scolding you for it either.
"Sorry," you respond as you straighten yourself up. There's a hint of a smirk on the women's face for a second before she shakes her head.
"You eat?" In the six hours you've been in shift, you hadn't eaten anything other than a pack of fruit snacks you'd taken from one of your roommates snacks in the pantry, but did she really have to know that.
‘Uhm, yes?”
"Liar. That's why you slack off. You don't eat. You have no energy," Eliza shakes her head calling out to the man on the grill before you were even able to argue back.
“Jesse!”
"What!" He responds, annoyance in his muffled voice.
“Ew special”
"I already made you one!" Eliza groans, responding with a "for the new girl, Jesse," in an even more annoyed tone before turning to leave at the sound of table 3 calling for more syrup.
What in the world was an ew special?
—
An Ew Special as it turns out, was a sandwich with hashbrown and some cheesy ketchup concoction which honestly, was way better than you expected.
The time on your cracked screen marked 10:07 as you made your way into the subway station for your commute back home. Atleast tonight you'd get a decent night's rest before another full day of lectures and another evening shift. And with that, you sat on one of the benches under fluorescent lighting waiting for your train.
Around your neck was the scarf from before, this time it being worn to keep you warm rather than to cover a stain on your shirt, and definitely not because it was a gift from the handsome girl from before. Nope.
It doesn't take long for your train to arrive, and as you walk in, you can't help but glance around for a familiar auburn haired girl. And again, she's not there, what were you expecting? She was merely a kind stranger, one of the few you've encountered and have never seen again, why would she be any different?
—
The following morning, you follow your usual routine. Wake up, take your vitamin c gummy and see if there's any breakfast worthy left overs before taking a shower, get ready, and leave the 4th floor apartment to make your way to your station. It was a nice routine, one you wouldn't mind repeating the rest of your days in Seattle with the exception of one new thing you've recently had the habit of doing: look around for the girl on the subway, Subway girl.
Subway girl was a smile lost in the tracks. A girl who showed up, saved the day, and blinked out of existence.
It was embarrassing the amount of times you've looked for her only for the same result, so, in order to save yourself another disappointment, you'd instead focuse on yourself and not look around.
And you don't look around, not intentionally atleast, not until a group of late-twenty year olds step off the car two stops into your ride and you catch a glimpse of a familiar auburn girl.
Subway girl. The flannel she had worn the day you'd first met her sat neatly on her lap alowing for a better view of the outlined tattoos on her arms as her white t-shirt sleeves were cuffed below her shoulders.
You couldn't believe your luck.
Her eyes were closed as her head leaned against the window sill, but as she felt your gaze from across of her, she slowly opened her eyes and her mouth formed a soft "oh" in surprise.
"Coffee girl," She smiles, sitting up in her seat as she turned to face you directly. There's a pleasant glint in her eyes as she looked at you, one that you hoped you'd see forever.
“Subway girl.”
Her smile spreads. “Mornin’.”
Your brain tries to reply with a "hi", perhaps ask about her day, but your mouth goes to say "morning", and so what comes out is, "Horny.”
Maybe it's not too late to jump out the emergency exit. You expect her to turn away, wonder why she'd even tried to talk to you, but instead she snorts.
Her eyebrows raise in amusement before she grins teasingly with her voice ever smooth, "I mean, sure, sometimes." She rolls her shoulders back and pulls down her faded green headphones, the ones you saw the day you met her, before setting them on her lap with her flannel and taking out her Walkman to pause her music. It was interesting, you'd never seen anyone actually use a Walkman ──much less walk around with it── but you didn't question it.
"Sorry, I'm─ morning brain. It's too early," you muster out and something shifts in her expression.
"Is it?" Subway girl asks with what seemed like genuine interest.
"Yeah, um... I had a late night.”
Her brows raise again, and you couldn't help but look away as she seemed to try and guess what it was that had kept you up. "Doing what?”
It's not necessarily a lie, but it's not exactly the truth, and really you just needed some cover to not look like an idiot after the word vomit from a moment earlier. "Oh, uh, I had a night shift. I wait tables at Miller's and it's twenty-four hours─”
"Miller's...? As in Miller's house of pancakes on the edge of the city?”
She rests her elbows on her knees and perches her chin on her hands. Her eyes are wide, and curious, her attention solely on you as she awaited your answer.
"You know it?”
She bites her lip, which is fine, and she shakes her head.
"Oh man, I used to wait tables there too," She says. "The owners would argue about how they wanted to name the place so it would always change until they stuck with that.. Jesse still in the kitchen?”
You laugh, her mind blown expression causing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. Lucky again. "Yeah, he's been there forever. I can't imagine him ever not being there. Everyday as I clock in he's all─”
"Mornin' buttercup," She says in perfect imitation which earns another small laugh from you. "He's such a babe, right?”
"A babe? Oh god," Your reaction gets yet another snort out of her, and as the two of you meet gazes again you both fall into a fit of laughter. It was sweet, and nice, and maybe, just maybe, meant to be.
"Man, there's this thing they serve there now and.. God, it's delicious. I had it the other day, an Ew special'.”
The spark in Subway girls eyes ignites so brilliantly that you half expect her to jump out her seat. "Wait, that's my sandwich! I invented it!”
"No way! Really?"
"Ew is a play on to my initials E.W," She explains. "I had Jesse make it specual for me so many times that eventually everyone else started having them too. Can't believe he still makes them there. He might be in love with me or something," She quips.
"Maybe. He makes them all the time and it's absolutely delicious, it definitely brings you back after a long shift, so, thank you.”
“No problem,” Subway girl says. Shes got this far-off look in her eyes as if she were reminiscing on the sights of customers and the smells of the diner, but she shakes the look off and lets out an exhale. “God, I miss that place. I don’t know if you feel it but, something about it… It's magic.”
You don’t do magic, but who were you to say that when she looks so wistful as if there was a deeper meaning behind her words so you simply hum in agreement.
‘I don't know how they haven’t fired me yet. I’m not the worst waitress, promise, but I accidentally dropped a pie on a five-year-old two days ago. We had to give him a free T-shirt.”
It takes a second, but Subway girl laughs, loud and hearty before shaking her head. “You'll get the hang of it soon,” She says with so much confidence that you believe her instantly. “Small fuckin’ world, huh?”
“Yeah…” You agree. “Small fuckin world.”
A comforting silence lingers in the air as you smile at each other. Subway girl is the first to break it as she glances at the scarf sticking out of your bag, “Nice scarf, by the way.”
You forgot you still had it with you so you quickly go to take it out and hand it to her but subway girl is quick to hold up a hand. “I told you to keep it and besides,” she pulls out a blue plaid one out of her bag, “It's been replaced.”
You look between the scarf in your hand and the green eyed girl in front of you, “I, yeah– thank you again, so much. I wanted– I mean, it was my first day of class and i was already late and didnt want to show up looking–”
“Hey, I mean, Its not that you looked bad,” Subway girl counters. “You just… looked like you needed something to go right that morning. So.” She shrugs, and the intercom suddenly comes on, announcing a stop that was barely audible from how unusually garbled it sounded.
Subway girl points over at the board. “Thats your stop right? The one heading to the college?”
Shit. It was your stop.
You realize as you swing your bag onto your shoulder and glance at the girl across from you that you might never get this lucky again. You seeing her again after 4 days of disappointment could have just been the world messing with you, raising your hopes up only to have her leave for good leaving you with only the memory of the pretty subway masc who saved the day and left you wanting more.
“I’m working breakfast tomorrow. At Millers,” You blurt out as you stand up. “If you want to stop by I could sneak you a sandwich. As payback for the scarf y’know?”
Subway girl looks up at you with an expression so strange and unreadable that you feel your stomach drop, of course, you had to find a way to ruin this. Whatever “this” even was.
Her expression clears up however and she smiles again, “Oh, man. I'd love that.”
“Okay,” you say and start walking to the door, still looking at her. “Okay. Great. Cool. Yeah-” You were going to stop saying words any second now. God, you usually weren't this awkward about asking people out.
Subway girl only watches you go, an amused look in her eyes as she moves a strand of hair from her face.
“What's your name?” she asks.
You stop in your tracks and turn around accidentally hitting another passenger getting off with your bag. “Ah– It’s [ ]. My names [ ].”
Subway girl's smile softens as if she somehow already knew.
“[ ],” she repeats. “I’m Ellie.”
“Ellie.. Hi, Ellie.”
Subway girl, now known as Ellie, smiles. She brings her hand up to her face and gives you a small salute as you say her name, a dorky gesture but one you found endearing nonetheless.
There's a little warning bell to announce the door closing so you quickly step off while still trying to keep your eyes on the auburn haired girl.
“The scarf looks better on you anyways,” Ellie winks, and the Subway doors close in front of you.
TAG LIST ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ @seraphicsentences @amberputh @k1ssesworld @mikellie @williamellieslilho @boobdrug
#HEY THERE SUBW4Y GIRL ᝰ.ᐟ#one last stop au!#subway girl!ellie ☆#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie williams au#ellie williams tlou#ellie x fem reader#ellie x you#ellie williams fluff#tlou fanfic
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okay but..... pathetic yearning beast!stalkerzai... he's so quiet abt his obsession with u making up any excuse to have u around for subordinate purposes and when ur not around him he makes sure he can still keep tabs on u AHHH hes so sad and so smitten
"pathetic" i dont need to hear any more. im on board.
The continuous knocking on your apartment door leaves you anxious, quickly pulling on a comfy sweatshirt before answering the door. A breeze flies into the room, causing you to shiver, before you make eye contact with,
"Why aren't you at work today?" Dazai crosses his arms, an angry expression on his face. Though, the pout he wears causes it to be less intimidating than he'd normally be.
You glance into your apartment briefly, still feeling chilly while exposed to the outside air. "Um... I don't work?"
"You always work."
"Right. Which is why I have today off." Awkwardly, you itch your arm. "Am I… needed, Boss?"
Dazai sighs before walking into your apartment (with no invitation) and closes your own door behind him. "You're freezing."
"I'm slightly chilled," you shrug, brushing off the notion. Any other subordinate wouldn't dare correct the boss of the Port Mafia, but he'd always been more lenient with you - supposedly because you ‘aren’t as dumb’ as the rest. "But that's what the hoodie is for."
Without another word, Dazai plops down onto your couch, making a show of looking around your apartment. It’s tiny - the whole thing barely the size of his office at HQ — and Dazai wonders if you’d rather move in with him. For more space, of course. And he guesses you’d be saving on rent that way, too.
“How do you know where I live?” You ask curiously. Sure, it’s probably somewhere in your files, but your boss never seemed like the type to care.
Shrugging, he murmurs, “It’s my job.”
You want to make this visit quick, but kicking out your boss didn’t seem like a smart idea. “Are you thirsty? Would you like a cup of tea?..”
Yes, Dazai wants to try your tea. Just because you’re his subordinate, and he needs to make sure it’s up to par. What if he needs you to serve tea to some associates in the future? “I’d love one.”
Biting back a sigh, you fill your kettle before placing it on the stove, watching as your old gas stove flickers on. Silence hangs between you two - you had no intention of carrying the conversation when he just barged in uninvited.
Dazai seems to have a similar idea, sitting laxly on your couch and waiting for his tea. You pour one cup, uninterested in making one yourself, before placing it on the coffee table in front of him. “Sugar? Milk?”
“This is fine, thanks.” He takes a sip. Heavenly, he’s sure. Well, all tea tastes the same, but something about it coming from your hands… delectable. It’s as though he can taste the love you must pour into every cup.
Mouth shut, you take a seat on the chair across from him. “May I ask, sir, why are you here? Am I needed?” The question is posed once again as you hope for a quick resolution. Kicking out your boss is wrong, but hopefully he’ll read between the lines and show himself out - the same way he showed himself in.
A long sip of tea permeates the otherwise silent room. He’s doing this on purpose, you’re sure of it.
“…I was worried,” he mumbles into the mug, sound muffled and quiet.
“Sorry?”
“You should be,” he replies, uninterested in repeating himself. “I needed you today, only to find out you vanished into thin air.”
“I didn’t run, if that’s what you’re implying,” your eyes narrow. You would not be mistaken for a traitor.
“No, no,” he grins. You were at your most entertaining when you became combative. Dazai much prefers you like this rather than subservient. “You took today off.”
Correcting the boss of the Port Mafia was risky, but, “You gave me today off. A month ago, after that mission, you told me to pick a day to relax.”
That’s… true. It was a strenuous mission, and while Dazai made sure to keep you out of the fray, he thought a gift like that would make you feel touched and indebted to him. Annoyingly, he’d nearly forgotten, since Dazai had planned on reneging at the last minute to trap you with him. For your work ethtic, of course.
A pout graces his lips, unhappy at your disappearance from his side. And that he had no rebuttal to it. “Well, I still need you. I made dinner reservations for two accidentally, and the restaurant is rather strict. You need to come with. The meal will be comped, of course."
“Sir, I don’t— “
“Don’t want your job?” His eyes narrow, pout vanishing immediately. You had to go along with it. “I’m sure you don’t mean that, over something as silly as a nice dinner.”
“...Of course, sir.” You tug on the strings of your hoodie, wanting to emphasize that you aren't exactly dressed for something 'nice.' "What time am I expected?"
Dazai has to stop himself from swooning. How adorable. Well, it’s not you that’s adorable, of course. It’s the juxtaposition of such n oversized hoodie on you that he finds adorable, not you yourself. Definitely. “We can leave now, actually. Get changed, please. I wouldn't say there's a dress code, but it's not a 'hoodie' establishment."
Rather than lashing out at him for the snide comment, you choose to bite your tongue and head into your bedroom.
Exhausted was too light a word to describe how you felt. Donned in a 'nice' outfit that was rather uncomfortable, you stood outside in the cold air and harsh breeze as Dazai suggested to the host to let him in. This bastard didn't have reservations for one, much less two.
After the manager is called over and recognizes Dazai, you're quickly ushered in beside him. Dazai pulls out a seat at a secluded table in the back, gesturing for you to sit. "Come."
Without a second thought, you sit in the very seat he'd pulled out, stifling a yawn as he pushes you in. You’re Dazai's best employee - he must keep you close at all times. Which is why he takes advantage of your position as his subordinate to orders you waste your day off in a fancy restaurant across from him. If you want time off of work, you’ll have to spend it with him - just so he can keep an eye on you, of course.
#🦌anon#🦌request#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd x reader#bsd x gender neutral reader#bsd imagines#bsd scenarios#bsd fanfic#bungou stray dogs fanfic#bungo stray dogs fanfic#dazai osamu x reader#dazai osamu#dazai x reader#osamu dazai x reader#dazai bsd#dazai imagines#dazai fluff#bsd fluff#beast dazai#beast dazai x reader#bsd beast#smth about this fic makes me hate it. why do i write the way i do.#anyway i posted smth on my side acct (stuffeddeer2) so maybe check that out#he the typa fella to be like. i made too many sandwiches for my picnic accidentally :// guess u gotta come with!#this blanket is too big :( i need someone else to cuddle up under it with me :/ oops!
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