The Key To His Heart - I
Description: As a hard-working novelist and single dad, Bill hasn't had much time for dating but gets an unorthodox chance to meet women when his friend persuades him to be a part of a dating TV show.
Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård, where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.
Setting: L.A, 2024, but in an alternative universe with Bill having a completely different life.
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.
Notes: I changed the title of this story! This is just a fun story; please don't overanalyze too much haha. Here is the teaser.
Bill would never confess how much he missed a woman in his life. He wasn't the type to talk loudly about his feelings with friends or family, so instead he carried the loneliness by himself. He did everything by himself and even for his daughters because he wasn't just a separated dad; he was a widower. He didn't have anyone else to parent with, but he didn't have anyone to be a man with either. He needed a woman in his life that could lift him up, share the good and the bad with, and snuggle up with at night. He was ready now, ready to let a woman into his and his daughters' lives, but he felt it would be hard, he had already had a big love.
He stood in front of a full-length mirror in his walk-in-closet. His bedroom had it when he moved into the mansion, but he didn't have enough clothes to fill it, so more than half of the shelves were full of books and movies instead. He wore a dark blue suit with a light luster in it, paired with a crisp white tee. His hair was combed messily back and to the side.
Bill knew he was handsome. He was tall, had an athletic build, and features that fit a high couture model. He rarely felt self-conscious about his looks; instead, it was his way of being that could make him doubt himself. He was a thinker, and because of it, he was not always fully present within the presence he actually was in. He got nervous in the spotlight and could be so goal-oriented he could sometimes stomp on others feelings, never on purpose; he just liked honesty and open communication, but not everyone could handle his ways. He was not a charming prince. He didn't have American charm and timing, he had Swedish awkwardness and ironic humor. Why he would participate in a dating program on TV confused him more than the people surrounding him, but his friend, Herman, had persuaded him it was a great idea that he could bring something new to the format. Similar programs had been made for years, but it had more or less been men shaped in the same mold.
Herman sat behind Bill on a bench with an emerald green velvet cushion and agreeably nodded towards Bill.
“You look great, man,” he said, and stood up from the bench. He cleared his throat to stress Bill a bit; both of them knew twelve women were waiting on him downstairs along with a film team. Bill swallowed hard; his chest even pained with nerves, and for some seconds he thought about refusing to go down. It all was so silly, and that twelve women would want to date him felt impossible; they would leave the first week when they realized he was a workaholic just thinking about his daughters and new projects. He had never dated, he didn't really know how you did it, and he didn't have female friends; he wasn't such a man twelve women would fight about.
“Time to meet the chicks,” said Herman playfully. He was a producer for the program, and it was important for him that Bill performed. Bill nodded and laughed nervously before going to the stairs. He could see how the cameraman, behind the camera pointed towards the stairs, started to film. He took a deep breath before walking down the broad staircase with a straight back and a hand in his pants pocket.
It started now, the adventure. He looked out over the sea of women standing by the end of the stairs, waiting for him; most of them were dressed in cocktail dresses and heels. They applauded when they saw him, and he smiled, embarrassed, looking away so they could see the deep dimple in his cheek. He could hear some giggles of endearment of seeing him blush lightly. A servant came up to him with a silver tray holding champagne flutes. He gave the glass a displeased look. It wasn't the glass he had said they would use. Champagne shouldn't be served in flutes, but he still gave the server a small smile before taking a glass.
“Ehm, Yeah, welcome to my place. I hope you will feel at home. I look forward to getting to know all of you. Cheers!”
He wondered if he sounded awkward, like a nervous teenage boy, but he could see Herman behind the girls smiling pleased. The girls lifted their glasses and cheered with him. Bill smiled wide at them because they actually looked at him like he was extraordinary, and some of the girls were so fine he could feel his heart beating with attraction. This would be interesting.
×××
It was not as bad, as he had thought it would be being the center of attention of twelve beautiful women. It was a cocktail party with just him, the women, and of course the camera team, but they kept their distance even if he knew they captured everything on tape. Wherever he was, the women looked at him, even if they talked to each other. It was strange, but he also felt himself grow a few inches. He talked lightly with some of the girls, but there were a bit too many impressions to take everything in. He was talking to two women about their hometowns when suddenly someone took his hand and pulled him out on the deck surrounding that part of the house. It was a woman with long raven hair and golden eyeshadow. She was probably some years older than himself.
“Maria,” she said confidently and stretched out her hand to him. Bill smiled, impressed by her self esteem, and shook her hand.
“Bill.” She laughed softly and nodded.
“I know that.”
“You do?” Bill said playfully and took a sip of the old-fashioned drink in his hand.
“Mhm, you know, you might be the reason I'm here.”
“Oh yeah?”
There was a flirty vibe between them at once, and Bill really liked it.
“Yeah…” She gave him a teasing smile before changing the subject. I'm a writer too.”
“Oh? What do you write?”
“I write for teens, like teen noir.”
Bill nodded; he had heard about the genre but couldn't really say what it was, and at that moment he didn't feel he needed an explanation.
“I guess I haven't read anything by you then.”
Maria shrugged her shoulders as a joke, and Bill smiled.
“I think we could be a fantastic team…” Her voice was low and she looked at him with big eyes. She was no longer as flirty; she looked more at him like she already had a crush, and Bill felt the nerves go up at once.
“Yeah, yeah…” He drank up his drink. “Time to find a new drink,” he said, and he showed her his empty glass. Her soft eyes became a bit much for him, but he also knew his assignment for the night was to talk with the women, as many as possible.
×××
“Violet,” she said with a giggle. She looked like that girl he would call an American “girl next door." They stood by the bar the production had put up in the living room while he waited on his Negroni, and she just had gotten her Cosmopolitan. She looked really young, and he was right.
“I'm 22. That's not a problem, right? You felt so open in that interview.”
“No, no… But I should be honest and say I've never dated someone so much younger than me.”
He gave her a quick glance. Her legs were long and golden and looked so smooth.
“I'm mature for my age. I have my own company, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” He said interested but started to imagine it was something silly, like selling unicorn keyrings.
“Yeah, I sell environmentally friendly plastic products to hospitals, like gloves and mugs, and so on.”
Bill looked at her, surprised. It wasn't what he expected from a 22-year-old.
“That's, that's impressive.” He smiled at her and she giggled proudly.
“Yeah, it actually works really well.”
“When did you start it?”
“Two years ago. I studied to be a nurse but saw how many plastic products the hospital used and felt I wanted to make a change.”
Bill couldn't stop smiling because the more she talked, the more impressed he got.
“I think it's my turn now,” said a girl next to them. She was short, so he needed to drop his gaze. He looked at the girl's face for a few seconds, then wiped the corner of his mouth while swallowing hard. Wow. Wow. He had said Ana De Armas was beautiful in his interview, and here was her lookalike. He turned to Violet with a smile, trying to mask his feelings.
“Thank you for the conversation, Violet.” She smiled disappointedly and looked at the girl who had enough guts to lay her hand on his arm and steer him away from her and the other girls. She steered him to the hallway where no one was and stood a few steps up the stairs to be as tall as him but also have her arms around his neck. Bill had his drink in his hand, but he also felt it would be a bit much for him to feel the girl's midnight blue chiffon dress with his fingers.
“I read that you're a leo,” she said sensually, and Bill smirked in attraction. Her name was Camila, and she radiated sexiness in such a natural way.
“Yeah?”
“That's why all of us look at you like you're a god. We want to worship you, and you love it, right?”
Bill laughed and snapped his neck as an answer.
“And you deserve the attention. You're really ambitious, creative, and full of passion.”
He just stood and smirked, especially because she dragged her long nails through the hair on his neck, and he could feel it tickle all the way down to his cock.
“What's your sign?” He said and took a sip from his drink.
“Scorpio.” It didn't say Bill anything, but even that sounded sexy, so he licked his lips and gave her a pleased nod. His full attention was on the sensual brunette in front of him, so he didn't notice that two women walked by the hallway and looked at them. They were on the way to the bathroom, talking about his latest book, when they saw Camila standing with her arms around Bill's neck. The redhead, Sandra, looked at them with big eyes while Maria looked away.
“So typical it's her he stands like that with...” said Sandra, and rolled her eyes. Maria didn't say anything but looked at Bill disappointedly.
×××
Bill saw a pair of eyes behind a camera that stared at him. It was Herman who, with a head movement, told him it was time to go to the next woman. Bill didn't feel the need though; he liked being worshiped under Camila’s gaze.
“Ehm, hm, I must give the other women my attention now…” he said. The sigh was close. He wanted to stay there.
“Do you?” She said it teasingly and dragged her hands over his shoulders. Bill nodded a little with a strained smile. “But thank you for your time.”
Camila released him slowly and turned on her heel. Bill looked her up and down while they both walked up the short stairs to the rest of the big hallway. Maybe he already knew who he would choose in the end.
While walking into the living room, several of the girls smiled at him to allure him to talk to just them, but Herman, behind a camera, nodded Bill towards a bleached bottle blonde by the fireplace. She looked like his own age, but not at all his type. Her dress was strapless and made of burgundy faux leather.
“What's your name?” He asked her kindly while she played with her bleached hair.
“Victoria,” she said with a sweet smile. Her voice was soft as silk and nothing he had expected. “We have actually met before.”
“Have we?” Bill furrowed his brows but also felt stupid that he didn't remember her. Victoria smiled and shrugged her shoulders.
“My dad owns a bookstore close to Central Park, and you were there to sign some books... I understand you don't remember me; it was a long time ago, and I had another hair color.” Bill nodded, trying to remember her or even the bookstore, but he couldn't find anything in his head. He did so many signings, especially in New York, so he couldn't remember.
“What hair color did you have then?”
“Light brown, sort of, the boring kind.”
“Like me?” Bill quipped with a smirk.
“What? No, no. Yours is much more chocolate; I was just… Like a rat.” He smiled amused and took a sip of his drink.
“What do you work with?”
“Ehm, I actually work at the bookstore. It's fun because my dad lets me try all kinds of business.” Bill didn't want to be the person judging her for her work, but standing behind a counter in a store felt really uninspiring. He was himself super ambitious and wanted a woman with similar attributes.
“I'm sorry, Victoria, but it's time for me to give the other women a chance.” Victoria nodded.
“Of course, of course.”
But Bill didn't go speak with another girl; instead, the team led him to an armchair between the plants out in the orangery. He knew why they wanted him there; it was time for him to receive questions about the girls that they would edit so it would seem like it was his own thoughts. It would be cut into the show so the viewer could follow his feelings and thoughts.
“Camila is something else… I can't deny I already like her,” he said with a smirk and dragged his hand over his thighs. “I like Maria too; I think she might be intelligent, and we would have much in common. Violet is impressive for her age…” Bill got lost in his own thoughts, thinking about the girls, but mostly Camila.
“What about Victoria?” Asked Herman. Bill knew the viewer wouldn't hear the question, so he must answer it like it was his own words.
“It doesn't feel like Victoria and I have so much in common.”
Bill nodded to himself but then realized he didn't know a thing about Camila but still had her as a favorite. Was he just shallow?
Bill was questioned on whether he believed his soulmate was there. He wasn't really that sappy, talking about soulmates, but he knew what was expected of him.
“I think my soulmate can be here; I look forward to getting to know them all.”
×××
Two girls with similar looks stood and looked up the big stairway leading up to the second floor, where they didn't have permission to be. By the first look, it looked like the brunettes looked at it dreamily, imagining themselves walking up the stairs with Bill, but it wasn't what they looked at. On the wall by the stairs was a big family portrait. Bill looked skinnier with a young girl in his lap; next to him sat a woman with dark blonde hair, heavily pregnant. The couple looked at each other with small, loving smiles while the child smiled big at the photographer. The girls look at Bill's wedding band, then at the woman's big diamond on her finger.
“Isn't it a little bit strange he let it hang there? I mean, it is his ex,” said Julie.
“It's not his ex; it's his late wife. His daughters’ mom,” said Esmeralda lowly and gave Julie an annoyed look.
"Yeah, but couldn't he have taken it down for now? It feels like he’s picking a mistress when she's up there.”
Esmeralda didn't say anything, just crossed her arms and shook her head. Just then they heard footsteps from the top of the stairs, and they both looked up, seeing Bill walking down with elegant loops. He smiled at them and wondered if they stood there waiting for him. He didn't notice how they were looking at the picture, he was so used to it hanging there he didn't really think about it.
“Hey?” He said and walked down to them. Julie blushed and smiled. She felt stupid for commenting on the portrait now when he stood in front of them and gave them a look a married man wouldn't. Esmeralda smiled a bit nervously but answered his hey with a hello.
“What were your names again? I'm sorry, there are so many names.”
They were the girls he had talked about their hometowns with. Both of them answered with sweet smiles, hoping they gave a better impression than the other.
“But both of you're models?”
He said, and looked at them up and down. It was just a reflex, their most important tool was their bodies, so it just went that way.
“Yeah, but with quite different things, I think? I do mostly lingerie shoots.”
Bill looked at her pretty face, trying not to look at her body. He wanted to imagine what she looked like under the black dress, but he didn't want to be that sort of pig and just smiled and nodded. Esmeralda didn't say anything and let Julie continue to talk.
“Are you interested in fashion? Maybe you have seen something with me then?”
Bill laughed uncomfortably and scratched his jaw.
“No… I'm dressed more or less the same way every day. I'm completely lost when it comes to fashion.”
He turned his gaze towards Esmeralda too, but she looked away. He got the feeling she might have lost interest in him all ready. Julie laughed and took a step closer to him, so she stood a bit in front of Esmeralda.
“I could help you with that.”
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
Bill smirked, and without thinking, he got that feeling he wanted to tease her.
“I think there’s a fashion designer here, isn't there?”
Julie looked at him a bit irritated and put the tip of her tongue against her top lip. It was unnecessary, and maybe she would take offense for real, but it has just come as an impulse to tease her a bit. It didn't seem like it was appreciated, though.
“Bill?”
He turned towards Herman's voice, who stood at the entrance to the big living room.
“Time to give the keys.”
×××
In a popular TV show, the man gave the girls roses as a symbol they could stay; Bill would give them the keys to his house. They were just symbolic keys because his manor had fingerprint locks on every door, but it looked nice that he gave them each a golden key. He thought it was silly; why couldn't he just say who got to stay?
“It's better TV,” said Herman, but Bill still thought it was silly. Oh well, he would just play along.
This time all the girls would get a key. It was only more than right because he hadn't even had time to talk with them all. It wouldn't be fair, not to himself either. He would call them up in order of his interest. The first being who he was most interested in, then continued down to the one he was least interested in. He looked at the girls standing in front of him expectantly, like he had their lives in his hands. He took a key in his hand, looked at its old style but in shiny gold, then up towards the girls.
Camila.
He smiled big when she walked up to him, feeling a tickling feeling in his lower belly, but when he looked behind her, he could see several girls looking at each other pointedly. He felt his throat dry up. He knew they thought he was predictable. Maybe they had even seen them in the hallway. He turned his gaze towards Camila again and smiled warmly at her. She didn't seem to notice the girls judging stares, and he wouldn't let her know about it. He gave her the key, and then she walked away to the side, being an audience to the rest of the ceremony.
Maria.
Julie.
Violet.
Odette.
Tiffany.
Sienna.
Sandra.
Rose.
Brigitte.
Victoria.
Esmeralda.
×××
The camera team also took some of the girls to the armchair in the orangery, one by one, to see what they were thinking about the man they would move in with. Bill pretended he didn't notice that it happened, but in reality he was completely aware of who they brought with them, and it stressed him a bit.
Rose: He's super handsome! But still cute with his big eyes.
Victoria: I don't know why he didn't think I made a good first impression. I don't know; he's hard to read.
Sienna: He seems sweet; maybe even a bit shy?
Camila: I think we have some sort of chemistry. It feels good.
×××
Bill stood in the closet again, but now dressed down to his boxers. He hung up the suit again and then stretched out his back so it cracked satisfyingly. It had been a long day with many impressions, and more would come. Twelve women lived under his roof, and it made him a bit nervous. Five of them lived in the mansion, while seven of them lived in the guest house on the property. Some of them shared a room, and he wondered if it might have started some drama between them. He wouldn't have liked sharing a room with a stranger either. He laid down on the bedroom floor and stretched out before starting to do his obligated pushups. It was especially important now because he couldn't sag up when they would film him every day. While doing his workout routine, he thought back on the women. Several of them had Hollywood good looks, but he wondered if they were more than that. He needed someone who could challenge him intellectually and who could inspire him. A pretty face would maybe be interesting for a few weeks, but in the long run, other things were more important. He thought about Camila. Sexy, sexy Camila. He hadn't even asked her about her profession or her age. He felt ashamed while thinking about it.
Bill did his nightly routine but couldn't stop thinking about the girls’ looks behind Camila during the ceremony. They had judged him so hard. Sandra, Maria, and Esmeralda had looked at each other like he was a pig. Was he? He had never seen himself as shallow, but Camila was just too good to be true. While crawling down into bed, he instead thought about how nicely the dress had fallen over her curves and how erotic she looked when she licked her blushed lips. What did she wear under such a tight dress? It didn't look like she wore a bra, and he couldn't see a visible panty line. Did she wear underwear? If he had been so sneaky and let a hand move in under her dress, had his fingertips met a wet pussy? He would have petted it like it was the sweetest little kitten.
Fuck, he was a pig. He looked down at his erection like it had betrayed him. It wasn’t starting well if he was already getting hung up on one of the girls. He needed to get to know Camila instead of just thinking filth. She would be his first evening date. He nodded to himself and looked up at the ceiling.
She looked horny. She had wanted him. She was probably that sort of girl who loved sucking cock. She would deep throat him completely and look up at him with tears in her eyes while he hit the back of her throat over and over.
Bill didn't feel ashamed when he pulled out his cock and dragged his hand over it harshly; he just thought about how he would have thrust his cock hard into her mouth and made her feel distress for a few seconds by the suffocated feeling. When he came over his stomach, he felt ashamed though and took a napkin out from his nightstand table and wiped his stomach, grossed out by himself. It wasn't okay that he sexualized her like this already. He needed to treat these women with respect and not reduce them into sex objects when he was alone. He could do better. He was better.
×××
The alarm clock rang at 06.30, but Bill shut it off and turned to the other side. He had two more alarms, so he never listened to the first one. He wished he could just sleep until 11.00, but he hadn't been able to do that for five years. When the alarm clock rang again at 06.40, he turned it off, but sat up on the edge of the bed with a loud grunt. If he wanted to go out for a run, his chance was now. At nine, they would all meet for a shared breakfast, and he needed to take a shower before that and make himself presentable for the girls, but also the camera.
Once again, he stared at himself in the full-length mirror. He flexed his stomach a little but felt so stupid that he looked around to see that no one was looking. It would be impossible, but still he felt watched. He flexed his stomach again. It looked good. Actually, really good. He had worked out hard before the show and would continue; he would not look like some tired old dad.
After putting on his running gear, he walked down the stairs, but realized then he wasn't the only one up early. A blonde was just on the way out through the entrance door, but she turned around when she heard Bill's heavy steps behind her. Rose looked at him surprised.
“I thought I was the only one up,” she said with a smile, even if the both of them could see the cameraman in a corner.
“I thought the same. Are you always up this early?” Bill walked down to her. She was tiny, and he almost laughed when he realized their height difference. Her hair was long and golden, gathered in a high ponytail. She looked up at him, then laughed a little.
“This height difference…”
Bill laughed a little too.
“Yeah…” He looked at her running gear and opened the door.
“Do you want to run with me?”
They ran in silence; often Bill ran a bit in front of her because he had such long legs and she couldn't keep up, but he waited for her before running around a corner.
“Problem keeping up?” he said teasingly.
“Fuck you! It's because you have legs like a damn giraffe!” She laughed when she came up to him. They stood panting together by a little park while Bill smirked at the blonde.
“Would you just have guessed your way if you were out alone, or do you have a GPS?" He looked at her wrists but couldn't see a watch.
“I just guess. I don't like running with all this technical equipment. I just want to run. Like Phoebe in Friends, you know?” She joked and corrected the high ponytail. Bill made an amused nod. “I always find my way home; that's my talent.”
“Even to my home?”
“It's my home too right now.”
They looked at each other with big smiles for a few seconds before running back to the house together.
“I can help you stretch if you want?” said Rose when they stood outside of the manor. “I don't mean that in such a suggestive way as it sounded like. I'm a personal trainer,” she said with an embarrassed laugh and looked down at her running shoes.
“Sure, okay,” said Bill, and he led her to the side of the house where they could be on the deck. He looked at her a little amused because of her size, but when she started to stretch out his muscles, he realized there was more power in her than it looks like.
“Do you have problems with your left shoulder?” She asked and dragged her hands over his broad shoulders when he sat on the floor in front of her.
“Yeah, I got it in a mountain bike accident, actually. I wasn't as great as I thought I would be.” He looked up at her with big eyes but was forced to squint because she stood close to the morning sun. She was beautiful like that—rosy cheeked and healthy-looking. She didn't wear any makeup.
“You must take care of yourself,” she said sweetly. And massaged his shoulders lightly. Bill nodded and looked down at his bare knees, where he could see the scars laying on top of each other. Taking care of himself was not his specialty.
“I should go and shower... So I don't smell like sweat all day,” giggled Rose and made Bill stand up, towering over her again.
“I think you smell great.” He smiled kindly; it wasn't even flirty, just his thoughts. Rose looked away a little embarrassed, and it made Bill feel a bit confident, so when she was about to walk away, he took her hand in his and pulled her into a soft hug against his warm chest. Rose giggled and looked up at him, still pressed against his chest.
“I didn't think about how sweaty I am.” He laughed, embarrassed, and released her.
“No worries, I like it,” she said with a flirty smile before walking through the house to the entrance door. Bill stood and looked out over the lawn for a while with a small smile. He thought he probably would need just a few minutes of alone time before meeting all of the women again; what he didn't know was that several of them were already awake and planned how to get some time alone with him. One of them even stood by the window watching him when he thought he had some privacy.
×
The girls:
Maria: Writer, 38.
Violet: Entrepreneur, 22.
Camila: Engineer, 31.
Victoria: Shop assistant, 34.
Sandra: Fashion designer, 36.
Julie: Model, 25.
Esmeralda: Model, 27.
Rose: Personal trainer, 22.
Odette: Pediatrician, 33.
Tiffany: Actress, 30.
Sienna: Painter, 28.
Brigitte: Chef, 29.
×
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comfort cuisine
🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k
🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)
Prologue
“I’m so sorry about this,” Johnny’s voice distracts you from the breakfast you’re making, and you turn around from the bacon to look at your friend. “I really wish I didn’t have to keep calling you and asking for favours like this-”
“Johnny,” you shut his rambling up with a pointed expression, “stop, it’s okay.”
“It’s not-”
“John,” you repeat, “seriously, we’re good. Given… the circumstances, I honestly don’t mind.”
The circumstances… neither of you can bring yourselves to say it. You know that if you say it… if you say ‘I don’t mind helping out since the death of your wife’ Johnny will just about break down, and he doesn’t have time to do that, not when he’s got to be at work for seven am, prepping the kitchen and getting ready for the day.
Even by calling this situation a ‘circumstance,’ you can see a half glazed expression overtake Johnny’s face. He’s frozen for a moment, and you take the time to study him.
You think it’s safe to say neither of you expected any of this to happen.
You’d met him in culinary school- he’d been a young guy, a new dad who’d had a daughter at nineteen, with dreams of opening his own sandwich food truck, ‘like Subway, but gourmet,’ he’d always explained.
Now, he’s a twenty four year old wreck, doing his best to climb the ladder in the food service industry, mourning the loss of his late wife, struggling to take care of his daughter, his dreams of a food truck long since forgotten in favour of chasing a head chef status to earn him enough of a salary to pay for everything in a one income household-
“Seriously,” your words snap the single dad back from his zone out, “we’re good. I’m making breakfast for Soonbok, I’ve got her lunch packed, I’ll take her to kindergarten, pick her up after- you just have to remember I have a night shift, gotta be at my own restaurant by five at the latest.”
“Five, yeah,” Johnny nods, swallowing thickly and toying with his daughters small pink backpack. “One day, I’ll be higher up on the food chain, and I’ll have better hours- I promise this isn’t a forever thing.”
“It’s an ‘as long as it needs to happen’ thing, okay? Don’t sweat it,” you assure him. “Here,” you take some of the crispy bacon out of the pan, putting it onto a scrambled egg bagel you’d prepared, “you need breakfast too.”
Johnny just about melts looking at the food. “You’re so good to me.”
You offer him a smile. “That’s what friends are for.”
One
Johnny swears his age is catching up to him. It’s not even four oclock and he’s feeling tired, letting out a groan as he says goodbye to the nightshift guys and heads to change out of his head chef attire in the staff bathroom. He’d turned thirty this year, and as he looks at his face in the mirror, he thinks he’s starting to see it.
On his way out of the back door, Johnny bumps into one of his line cooks. Mark Lee is pressed to the wall where people usually lean to smoke, his girlfriend closing him in with her hands on either side of his head. Back when she was expo, everyone used to call her Sunshine, but in her dealings with Mark Lee, Johnny’s come to realize that he’s the angel, not her.
“Aren’t you two on the clock?” Johnny jokes as he walks past.
Sunshine pulls away from Mark, offering the head chef a grin. “We’re on a vape break.”
“Sure you are,” Johnny laughs, shaking his head. “See you two back in there, better only be five more minutes.”
“Aren’t you done for the day?” Mark asks, confusion written on his face, along with lipstick marks that he’s hurrying to wipe off.
“Grabbing happy hour with a friend, but be careful Mark Lee, I’m always watching. Just because I’m sitting at the bar doesn’t mean I’m not judging you.”
Johnny can hear Mark mutter something under his breath, and Sunshine is quick to try to calm him down, but as Johnny turns the corner to head to the front entrance of the restaurant, he hears the back door open and close, signaling the end of the little ‘vape break.’
When Johnny joins you at the bar, you’re chatting with Jeno, and the sight makes an unexplainable emotion tingle up his spine. Out of all the front of house staff here, Jeno might just be the biggest manwhore, and he’s had a thing for cougars for a while, although there’s only a handful of years difference between the two of you-
“What are you guys talking about?” John asks, taking a seat on the dark green leather hightop stools surrounding the bar.
“Which virgin drinks are the best,” you respond casually. “I was going to get an iced tea, but Jeno convinced me to try one of your new virgin lemon ginger fizzes.”
“That’s called upselling, honey, you should know that, seeing as you’re in the industry,” Johnny grins.
“Yeah, well, you’re the one who invited me here, so I figured you’d be paying.” You take a sip of your straw, looking at Johnny with a smirk, a playful glint in your eyes.
“Are we getting food?” Johnny asks. “I might as well take care of that for you too.”
“I’ve got time,” you respond casually. “Don’t work for an hour, lets get our ‘nosh’ on.”
Johnny can only laugh at your antics, turning to Jeno, who’s watching with an amused grin. Everyone here knows you and Johnny are close, you come here often enough to see him, the two of you catching each other for a half an hour here or there between his day shifts and your night commitments.
Johnny orders three appetizers off the happy hour menu, two things he knows you like, and one that’s more up his alley. “Make sure Yuta isn’t back there slacking off,” Johnny warns Jeno, knowing that two of the items will be coming from the ‘bottom end’ of the expo line, which is where Yuta runs the show after Johnny’s off.
“I’m sure he’ll pull out all the stops for our MVP,” Jeno grins, typing the order into an ipad. “Do you want a beer? We’ve got new rotators.”
“Don’t bother trying to upsell me,” Johnny scoffs. “House Lager, and don’t fuck around with the foam.”
“You run a tight ship here, captain,” you tease, bumping Johnny’s elbow.
“Speaking of-”
“Don’t try to recruit me to work here again,” you’re quick to warn.
“Damn it,” Johnny shakes his head, pretending to be quite upset about your rejection. He does feel it- he does think you’d be a great member of the team, and he’d love to offer you a dual head chef position, but it’s not in his power to do so, and that fact haunts him every day. Working for a company limits what he’s able to do, and sometimes, even at age thirty, Johnny still thinks about his dream to open a food truck, with you by his side. “No, in all seriousness, I wanted to talk to you about Soonie’s birthday.”
“Right, she’s turning eleven soon, that’s quite the milestone,” you grin, playing with your straw.
“I asked Doyoung if I could open early for her birthday, it’s a Sunday, I was thinking some of her friends and their parents could come in for a brunch an hour before we’re open for the public.”
“That’s a great idea!”
“Here’s the catch, Soonie was raised on your breakfast food. As much as I try to make things for her, and I hate to admit this, by the way, she always says your cooking is better. So I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come in that day and help me out with all of this. With your skills, I wouldn’t need Hyuck and Mark, it could be just us, and I’m sure we could make a birthday breakfast Soonbok would never forget. It would be like old times, like back when we were in culinary school.”
He loves the way you’re smiling at him, giving him space to rant.
When he’s done, you cock your head to the side, only wasting one beat before you say, “I’ll do it.”
“Really? I don’t have to bribe you with money or anything?”
“Jeeze, have I ever asked you for money, John?” You smack at his arm, clearly slightly offended. “I’m doing this for Soonie… and maybe a little for you too.”
“Don’t go soft on me, killer,” Johnny teases. “Everyone around here’s too soft these days.”
“Says the softest dad I know,” you roll your eyes.
“Shh,” he warns, “don’t say that loud enough for Jeno to hear.”
“As if everyone doesn’t already know.”
The two of you continue to chat and joke, a short while later, the head manager, Doyoung, shows up carrying food. It’s funny for Johnny to see Doyoung balancing two items on one arm, the third in the palm of his hand, but he supposes Doyoung started somewhere too, the same way John had.
“VIP happy hour appetizers,” Doyoung sighs, setting the food down.
“As opposed to regular happy hour appetizers?” you grin, immediately reaching for a fry.
“These are special,” Doyoung insists, “pretty sure Yuta spit in them.”
Doyoung is a pretty regal man, he’s not one to joke around- but for some reason, when Doyoung is in your vicinity, he loosens up a little. Everyone loosens up around you, you radiate a safe space kind of energy, the kind of energy that makes Johnny’s tense shoulders relax, his smile softening.
“Then I’ll be sure to eat all of this,” you respond. “Tell Yuta more spit.”
Doyoung shakes his head at you. “I’m sure Johnny’s tried to poach you already, but if you ever want a job, you can have his.”
“Hey!” Johnny laughs.
“I’ll consider it,” you grin.
“And I expect a plate of food for this brunch thing,” Doyoung continues. “I’ve heard nothing beats your breakfasts, even though you work nights.”
“Someone has been talking about me again,” you muse, eyes shifting to John.
“What can I say?” He holds his hands up in defense. “I speak only the truth.”
“Your reputation precedes you,” Doyoung insists. “Anyways, have fun you two, I’ve got food to run, our new expo girl isn’t filling Sunshine’s shoes too well.”
There’s a glint in Doyoung’s eye before he scurries away, and Johnny turns to watch the new expo girl practically short circuiting with take out orders on the line.
“Poor girl,” you sigh. “It takes a certain kind of person to work in a restaurant.”
And an even more specific type to do what the two of you do as chefs.
Two
You’ve been on a few first dates this year, and this one is definitely a bottom three. You’ve had one drink, and you already feel like finding a way to slip out early.
Initially, you’d been intrigued by dating a man in finance, but it’s clear now that you’re in two completely different worlds- and to make matters worse, he mostly talks about himself. He’s oozing this obnoxious confidence that makes you grimace every time you sip your drink, and not from the alcohol.
Your date is in the bathroom when Johnny calls.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you!” His voice warms your heart. “So Soonie is at a sleep over tonight, and I was thinking about making a Soonbok style menu for her birthday, all Soonie style names for food and such, planning a menu just for her- are you up to anything? Can I go through it with you?”
“Actually…” your gaze shifts to the bathrooms, “I’m on a date.”
“Oh.”
“It’s going so bad, and planning Soonie’s birthday would be such a better use of my evening. Listen, can you come pick me up? I’ll text you the address, you can come and call me when you’re outside, pretend it’s a family emergency or something-”
“You got it, I’ll be there right away.”
Fifteen minutes later, you’re hopping into Johnny’s car, letting out a deep sigh of relief.
“That bad, huh?” he asks.
“I don’t even want to talk about it right now,” you groan.
“Here, distract yourself,” Johnny hands you a piece of paper, and you realize it’s a mock up menu for Soonbok’s birthday. “This is just a prototype, I was messing around with styles on some fucking site called Canva-”
“I didn’t know you were good at this sort of thing,” you gasp, taking in the intricate fonts and colouring.
“The site did all the work, trust me,” Johnny scoffs, pulling out into traffic. “Read it over and let me know what you think.”
You begin to scan the menu. There’s Soonie Side Up Eggs, and Boken Avocado Bennies, Soonbok Style Slapjacks and Suh Family Breakfast Sammies.
“I’m shocked you came up with this many names related to Soonie and Suh,” you say.
“I spent my entire shift thinking about them in the back of my mind while I worked,” Johnny admits. “They’re not cheesy or anything, right?”
“They’re definitely cheesy,” you confirm, “but Soonie is going to love them. You’ve always been cheesy, John, and she adores you for it.”
You notice Johnny’s skin turning a little red, and it’s not just from the reflection of the traffic light illuminating the inside of his car while you wait for it to go green.
You continue to study the menu, thinking hard the entire way back to Johnny’s house.
He’s got a modest three bedroom townhouse, with his and Soonbok’s rooms on the top floor, and the guest bedroom on the main floor with the kitchen and living room. The kitchen is, without a doubt, the heart of the home, and the two of you make your way there as soon as you’re past the threshold.
“I have some thoughts,” you admit, setting the menu down and pointing at one of the items. “Soonbok toast,” you announce, a twist on french toast, “it says here that it comes with a berry compote. I can tell that this is one of the dishes more geared toward others, because if this was really for Soonie, you’d know that your daughter doesn't even touch berry or apple crisps. She picks at the oat brown sugar on top, but doesn’t like cooked berries or fruits.”
“Yeah…” Johnny leans next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “That was the only one I wasn’t sure on, but for brunch, you have to have a french toast option, right?”
“We can still do french toast, but I think every menu item should be something she’d actually love, don’t you agree?”
“A hundred percent.”
“What if, instead of berry compote, we do an brown sugar glaze type sauce?”
“That could be doable,” Johnny admits. “Should we try to make one now?”
“Can we do it in the morning?” you ask. “Honestly, I had one drink at the bar, I’m tired after a long shift, and I’m ready to have a few more drinks then pass out.”
“Drinks are a good idea,” Johnny grins, already heading to the fridge. “It will give me more time to think about how to make the brown sugar glaze, and I’ll get on top of that in the morning.”
“Exactly. Chef hours are over, we can just relax,” you insist, heading to collapse on his couch.
“Chef hours are never over,” Johnny reminds you, cracking open a beer and approaching so he can hand it to you.
“It’s one of the reasons dating is so hard in our profession,” you sigh, taking a swig of your drink.
“The hours make it tough,” Johnny nods.
“So does the mentality,” you remind him. “We just… we think a little differently than others. We’re all a little too committed to our work.”
“That’s not always a bad thing, you’ve just gotta find someone you’re compatible with, someone who will appreciate that about you.”
“Says one single chef to the other,” you laugh.
Johnny clinks his bottle against your own before taking a large gulp. “Touche.”
Three
Johnny is doing his best to work quietly, aware that the guest bedroom is just a short distance from the kitchen as he whips up eggs for the french toast batter.
He manages to get all the way through to the cooking before you sleepily putter into the kitchen, adorned in one of his spare shirts for when you sleep over unexpectedly. You look adorable, but Johnny can’t bring himself to focus on you as he perfects the brown sugar glaze, careful not to burn it.
“Almost done,” he calls over his shoulder, “take a seat then try this with me?”
“It smells good,” you tell him, pulling out a chair at the island kitchen counter.
“Thanks, honey, I was up last night thinking about it- had to wake up early to try it out.” He lifts the french toast onto a plate, dipping a spoon into the glaze to coat the breakfast. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”
“The smell did,” you muse, grinning as he brings the french toast toward you, setting it down and opening a drawer to retrieve two sets of utensils.
The two of you cut into the toast, and you lift your fork. “Cheers,” you grin, and Johnny touches his food to your own before you both go in for a bite.
The french toast is cooked to perfection, and although the brown sugar glaze is a little sweet for his liking, Johnny knows Soonie’s sweettooth will appreciate this adjustment to the recipe.
But when Johnny lifts his gaze to you, he sees apprehension in your eyes. “Did you like it?” he enquires.
“It’s really good, don’t get me wrong,” you assure him quickly, “I just think… maybe it’s missing one or two things.”
“Like what?”
“Mmm…” you cock your head to the side, “we both know Soonbok is a fan of nuts, peanut butter is her usual go to but she likes others too- what if we finely chop some pecan or walnut and add that in somehow?”
“That could work,” Johnny nods.
“Do you mind if I take a crack at it?” you ask.
Johnny laughs. There are very few people he’ll allow to use his kitchen, and luckily you’re the one at the top. You’ve been cooking here for so many years that he doesn’t have to guide you to anything, you stand up and immediately go in search of details to make your french toast masterpiece come to life, and Johnny happily takes a back seat while he finishes his own creation.
You go for a bag of pecans, dumping a small amount onto a cutting board before you begin to finally chop, leaving an array of different sizes of chunks. Soonie has always been a texture specific child, and Johnny loves how you incorporate all the little quirks of his daughter into your cooking like this.
In a pan with some butter, you begin to toast the nuts, getting prepped on your bread by using the already made batter he’d created earlier. As you put the toast into the pan and check the nuts, you cock your head to the side again, an endearing trait you do when you’re thinking.
“What about oats?” you suggest.
“Do whatever you think is best,” Johnny encourages you, heading to the fridge to grab some orange juice and a nearly empty bottle of prosecco he’d opened for a recipe two nights ago.
Johnny watches you add oats to the browning pecans while he makes mimosas, and in no time at all, you’re plating the french toast, with a spoonful of the newly toasted additions, and a few spoonfuls of brown sugar glaze.
“There,” you announce, bringing the food to the table. “I added a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar to the buttered nuts and oats while you were making drinks.”
“Cheers,” Johnny grins, lifting a forkful of your creation to gently touch it to your own.
As soon as he bites into it, Johnny knows that this is a winner. The crunch of the nuts, and the oats- the added fats of the butter- the slight taste of cinnamon on the toppings-
“Wow,” he breathes, leaning back in his chair. “Soonie really wasn’t joking when she said you’re the best breakfast chef in town.”
“Stop it,” you laugh. “You made the glaze! We did this together!”
Johnny goes for a second bite. “This is the stuff that will stick to your ribs,” he muses, not caring that the calorie content was just inflated by the addition of butter and nuts, “Good ol’ comfort food.”
“No, John, you’re a head chef now, this is comfort cuisine,” you correct him with a grin.
Johnny swears your eyes are sparkling as you smile at him, and it makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s times like these that he realizes just how smitten he is with you. You’ve been there for him, through thick and thin. There’s no way he’d be where he is now without you, and he’s not even sure if you know the full extent of it.
But at the same time, because you’re his rock, Johnny doesn’t want to overstep. He can’t lose you, not now, not ever. Soonie lost her mom to a car crash when she was three, and there’s no way in hell Johnny’s going to do something that could potentially make her lose you too.
Four
“Hey, you,” you grin, finishing pouring your glass of wine while you put your favourite chef on speaker.
“Hey, yourself,” Johnny responds, and you can practically hear the smile in his own voice. “Listen, uh, I need to ask you for a favour.”
“Shoot.”
“Two of my line chefs called in today before dinner- pretty sure they’re both hungover or something. Anyways, I’m staying, and it’s a busier night than projected- Soonie is done Girl Guides at seven, and I know it’s your night off, so if you’re busy I can find someone else, but-”
“I’ve got you,” you interrupt him. “Girls night with my favourite girl is a better plan than I had.”
“Really? You sure?”
“A hundred percent.”
“I’d say I owe you one, but at this point, I probably owe you more like a thousand.”
“And don’t you forget it,” you laugh, pouring your wine back into the bottle. “Take care of work, and I’ll take care of our girl.”
A couple hours later, you’re in Johnny’s familiar kitchen, making spiced popcorn and virgin cocktails. Soonie wants to be a chef, just like her dad, and she’s getting better every day. You love giving her soft instructions and lending a helping hand on bigger jugs of juice that her tiny fingers can’t quite hold.
Soonbok has a love for all things disney and music, and although this is probably the third time you’re watching it with her, the two of you settle in for the live action Ariel.
While Johnny is primarily a chef, back when you were in culinary school, he used to sing to himself when he was working. He was always quiet, but loud enough for you to listen to his beautiful voice. Like her father, Soonbok has a way with music, and you adore watching the eleven year old belt out Ariel songs.
She’s tuckered out from Girl Guides however, and about halfway into the movie she cuddles up next to you, her eyelids beginning to droop.
When Johnny comes home as the film is ending, Soonie is fast asleep, and you quickly motion at him to be quiet as he steps through the door.
Johnny is careful as he sets his keys and bag down, kicking off his shoes and putting away his jacket. He tiptoes toward the two of you. “How long has she been out?” he whispers.
“Half an hour or so,” you respond in a hushed tone. “How was work?”
He lets out a sigh. “Could have been better, but I’m home now. Should I get this little one to bed?”
You nod, watching the way Johnny bends down to gently lift his daughter off the couch. She stirs in his arms. “Daddy?”
“Hi, Soonie,” he beams down at her. “Did you have a good girls night?”
“Can y/n stay longer?”
Johnny’s eyes shift to you, and a smile forms on your lips. “I guess I can’t say no to Soonie, can I?”
“Here’s the deal, Soonie, y/n can stay longer, but I’ve gotta put you to bed. You had a long day, didn’t you, sweet girl?”
“Uh huh.” Soonie yawns, cuddling closer to Johnny’s chest, and the sight makes you melt.
Johnny carries her out of the living room and up to the second level. He takes some time tucking her in, and then he comes back down to join you, holding two beers in his hands.
“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.
“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”
“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”
“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink.
Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.
“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”
“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”
You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue.
“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”
You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?
You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.
But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.
Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.
Five
It’s a pretty slow day after the lunch rush, so Johnny is sitting in the back office with Doyoung while they pick at their food. They often eat together once things settle down, and today is no different.
What is different, however, is the topic of conversation Doyoung brings up. “How’s y/n doing?” he asks, taking a bite of his salad.
“She’s good. She helped me lock in a french toast recipe for Soonie’s birthday, so that was pretty helpful.”
“That’s nice,” Doyoung nods, “but I’m more interested in what’s going on between the two of you.”
“What do you mean?” Johnny asks, looking up from his schezwan beef noodle bowl.
“I mean, you two have been friends for a long time. There’s a lot of history there.”
Johnny’s shocked that Doyoung is bringing this up. Out of all of the chef’s coworkers, he had not pegged Doyoung as being the man to bring up relationship gossip, and the whole thing takes him off guard for a moment.
“We’re good friends,” Johnny says finally.
“I know that,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “What’s holding you back from being more? It’s clear how much you two care about each other.”
Johnny looks down at his food, using his chopsticks to play around with a red pepper. “We do care about each other,” he confirms. “She was there for me with Soonie when no one else was, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”
“So why don’t you tell her how you really feel about her?” Doyoung presses. “It’s obvious in the way you look at each other- a smart woman like y/n, I’m shocked she hasn’t figured it out for herself by now.”
“I think, because of our history, there’s this… invisible line,” Johnny tries to explain. “Things are good the way they are now, if I try to mess with that… I could lose everything. And I wouldn’t just be losing it for myself, I’d be losing it for Soonie too.”
Doyoung lets out a breath, turning to face Johnny. “I get that it’s hard, but, you’ve got two paths ahead of you. If you give it a try, it could either end well, or badly. But if you keep yourself in this weird middle friend zone place, it’s like you’ve created a house at the crossroads, and that will never lead you anywhere.”
“When did you become so wise about love?” Johnny scoffs.
“Sumi has helped me with it,” Doyoung admits. “I met her here, we started off as friends. I’m her manager, so I had my own reasons for never taking the leap. I had my own house at the crossroads.”
“What made you finally give it a try?”
“She was there for me when my dad died,” Doyoung frowns. “Anyone can be there for you when things go badly, but when a woman truly gives her all to making things easier on you- it’s not something that should be ignored. After everything you and y/n have been through, you both deserve to give it a try.”
“How are you so sure she’d want to give it a try?”
“Because she looks at you the way you look at her.”
Six
Cooking with Johnny might just be the easiest thing in the world. You’d thought that, due to it being Soonie’s birthday, maybe tensions would be high, but as the two of you collaborate in the kitchen, bumping hips and easily communicating, things feel as they always have: easy.
Within fifteen minutes, the two of you have seamlessly cooked thirteen breakfasts for yourselves, Soonie, her four friends, and six adults… well, seven, if you include the Boken Avocado Bennies you’d whipped up for Doyoung.
While there are a number of staff puttering around doing pre-opening tasks, it’s Doyoung who takes the time to help you and Johnny bring all the food to the table. You love watching the stoic manager announce the Soonie-inspired brunch food names, and it’s clear that Soonbok is also enamoured by the shift in Doyoung’s countenance.
Before everyone begins to eat, you take a group picture on Johnny’s phone, loving the massive smile on Soonie’s face.
As you’re about to sit down, Johnny asks one of the other moms to take a picture of just you, him and Soonie. With the two of you on either side of the birthday girl, you can’t help but think that this feels like a family picture.
In a way, Johnny and Soonie are your family- but in the same breath, you’re cognisant of the fact that - had circumstances been different - it would be Soonbok’s mom in this picture right now, and not you. These are shoes that can simply never be filled, no matter how much you wish you could.
The thought isn’t one you like to hold on to, and it’s a thought that’s popped into your head innumerable times throughout the years. Taking your seat next to the birthday girl, you watch her try the french toast, her eyes lighting up.
On top of her own food, Soonie picks at yours and Johnny’s. Both of you are more than happy to share so she can taste more than just one of the special items Johnny had concocted for her.
Brunch is full of laughter and girlish giggles that light up the deserted restaurant. It’s clear how important Johnny has made Soonie feel today, and that brings you more joy than you could ever express out loud.
As things wind down, you and Johnny begin clearing plates to the dishpit. The two of you are shoulder to shoulder, and you’re overwhelmed by an odd sense of longing that you can’t quite describe.
Johnny turns to you, mouth opening as if he’s about to say something- but as servers pass behind you, it’s clear that there’s no room for him to say whatever it is that he wanted to say to you.
You clear your throat, watching a line chef pop up next to Johnny to stack the dishes for dishwasher prep. “You should go back to Soonie,” you tell him, “I’ll finish up with the cleanup.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Of course, it’s Soonie’s day, go be with her.” You offer him a smile, and Johnny reacts by reaching out to squeeze your hand.
Without another word, he leaves you to your thoughts, and the feeling of need that’s growing steadier and steadier in your chest.
Seven
Johnny doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. Soonie’s birthday was yesterday, and today's day shift had been quite slow. He’s feeling restless with Soonie over at a friend’s place tonight, and he tries to drown himself in liquor- whether it be to chase away the loneliness or to gain courage, he’s not sure, but by nine oclock, Johnny finds himself dialing up your number.
“Hey, you,” you answer.
“Hey, yourself,” he grins. “Watcha up to?”
There’s a pause, and Johnny can hear people in the background. “I’m out actually.”
“Oh?” Johnny’s spirits dampen. “Out on another hot date?”
“Not so hot actually.”
Johnny bites at his lip. “I’ll let you go anyways.”
“It’s alright, I stepped out when you called. Do you need something?”
“I guess…” Johnny takes a breath. “I got into the liquor-”
“Say no more, I’ll be right over.”
Eight
“So…” Johnny grins as the two of you head into his kitchen, “how did the date go?”
You scoff, watching him pour a glass of wine. “How do you think it went? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
“I mean… I am pretty hard to compete with,” Johnny flashes you a sexy grin… and proceeds to knock over the glass of wine. “Shit- fuck!”
“Listen, you go take a seat, and I’ll clean this up,” you laugh, watching him lumber toward the sofa. You make quick work of the mess, and when you’re done, you approach him in the living room.
“Come sit,” he prompts, patting the spot right next to him.
“Someone’s feeling awfully cuddly today,” you giggle when he grabs your hand to pull you down where he wants you, leaving no space between the two of you.
“What can I say? I’m a cuddly drunk.”
“I can see that,” you note, assessing him.
His gaze dips to your lips, and your skin tingles.
“Thank you for yesterday,” he says quietly.
“I told you, I was happy to help for Soonie’s special day.”
“It’s not just that,” he insists, “you’re always happy to help. I seriously-” he swallows thickly, “I seriously couldn’t have done anything I’ve done without you.”
“Don’t be so self deprecating,” you warn him, gently pushing his shoulder. “You’d have gotten anywhere you wanted, with or without me.”
“I still don’t have a food truck,” Johnny pouts.
You’d thought maybe he’d given up on that dream- although you’ve held onto hope for Johnny, more than he knows. “Now that you mention it, actually,” you say, pulling out your phone, “I’ve been looking at food trucks for sale online for a minute, and-”
Johnny’s gaze softens. “You’ve been researching for me?”
“Just a little,” you brush it off, trying to find the listing that you’d saved three days ago. “I found this decent looking one at a good price-”
“I think I love you.”
“Huh?” you freeze.
“I didn’t mean it,” Johnny says immediately, and your heart sinks. “I don’t think I love you, I know I do.”
“John, please, that’s the liquor talking.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he insists. “Look, you’ve always been there for me. We work together- and not just because we’re both chefs. Something about this,” Johnny gestures between the two of you, “it just works, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”
“Yeah?” You decide to play a little coy, seeing as this confession is coming from a drunk man. “And who else sees it?”
“Doyoung, for one.”
“Doyoung?” You let out a laugh. “Have you been gossiping about me with him?”
“I swear I didn’t bring it up,” Johnny defends himself. “Doyoung said I look at you with love, and that… that you look at me the same way.”
“Well… maybe Doyoung needs to get his eyes checked?”
“Don’t play with me,” Johnny begs, pulling you closer. “There’s always been a line between us, one we’ve both been too scared to cross… but, I think-”
“Now you’re crossing it,” you finish for him. “What made you want to do that?”
“Soonie’s birthday,” Johnny admits. “Our little family picture.”
“Our family picture,” you repeat, melting inside at the fact that he’d viewed the photo in the same light you had.
“Yeah.” Johnny nods. “Our family. Mine, and yours.”
His hand finds your thigh, and you can’t help but reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across his angular bones. “I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.
“We don’t have to say anything,” Johnny assures you. “Just kiss me, and we can forget about the world for a minute.”
Your heart is racing in your chest as you hesitantly close the distance between your lips. It’s a gentle first kiss, but it soon grows hungry, and you’re not sure if that’s due to his appetite or your own.
His tongue swipes across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, letting out a soft sigh as you get lost in the feeling of the man who’s been your best friend for years.
His hand on your thigh squeezes, and before you know it, he’s pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dig into the sofa on either side of him, and you’re hesitant to fully sit down- a kiss is a kiss, but grinding on Johnny is something else entirely.
“Johnny,” you whisper, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, wondering how you got into this situation.
“Yes, honey?” He presses kisses along your throat that have tingles shooting up your spine.
“You’re drunk,” you say finally.
“If I’d known you liked me too, I would have done this ages ago.”
“It’s not about that,” you laugh. “It’s about the fact that you’re drunk, and I want you sober when we do this.”
“Do what?” he teases, squeezing your hips, his tongue grazing over your jugular.
“You know what,” you retort with a huff. “Look, you’re right about the line neither of us wanted to cross.”
Johnny pulls away from your throat, looking up at you. “Huh?”
“The line. The unspoken line. All these years, something has been there, between us- but, we both respect your wife, we respect Soonie- I think… I think the time is right for this now, well, not right now, but, once you’re sober again.”
“You’re right,” Johnny concedes.
“How about we watch a movie, then we can go to sleep.”
“You’ll stay over?” There’s a boyish excitement in his voice and it makes you melt.
“Uh huh.”
“Will you stay in my bed with me?”
“Just for cuddles, but only if you promise to drink a bunch of water before we sleep, I don’t want you hung over in the morning.”
Johnny grins. “You got it, honey.”
Nine
Johnny wakes up next to a warm body, and it’s the first time in years. Your presence is the only thing that proves to him that last night wasn’t a dream, some twisted fantasy- No, you’re real, and you’re here, and you’d kissed him back-
He stays cuddled with you for a while, basking in the glow of being in love, truly in love, and finally able to admit it to himself. It’s been so long since his wife, and part of him had forgotten the feeling- maybe that’s why it had taken years for him to realize how much he adores you.
After a while, Johnny decides he needs some water- and he wants to make breakfast for you. He wants to spoil you the way you spoil him.
Johnny is careful as he exits the bed, taking one last look at your peaceful face before heading down to the kitchen.
It’s easy for Johnny to get lost in the act of cooking, focusing on bacon at first before switching to eggs. As it was a few days ago, the smell of food wakes you up, and soon you’re joining him by the stove.
“Watcha making?” you ask, wrapping your body around his.
God, the feeling of you is- fuck, he can’t even describe how good it is.
“Wanted to make you breakfast,” he tells you, plating your food first. Once he has you settled and sitting, he quickly throws together a breakfast sandwich for himself.
“You and your sandwiches,” you laugh, digging into your bacon and eggs.
“How did you sleep?” he asks, coming to join you.
“So well,” you tell him, bumping your knee against his own, “even if someone snores.”
Johnny can only laugh, he’s dealt with Soonbok complaining about his loud snoring for years. “How are the eggs?”
“Good!”
You’re so chipper this morning, and he loves it. Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich- you’d cooked the eggs at the brunch birthday two days ago, and he realizes Soonie was right. “Your eggs are better,” he muses.
“I’d planned on making breakfast for you, but you jumped the gun, big guy.”
“I wanted to pamper you for a change.”
“Cooking is my love language,” you tell him. “I’m excited to make you breakfast more often.”
“I like the sound of that,” he smiles.
“When’s Soonie come home?”
Johnny checks the clock on the stove. “In an hour or so.”
“As much as I’d love to see her, I think maybe it’s better if I’m not here when she gets home,” you say thoughtfully. “She’s a smart girl, I bet she’d be able to tell that something is up.”
“She definitely would,” Johnny confirms. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you that much if you stick around.”
You giggle, reaching over to squeeze his knee.
“How are you feeling about last night?” Johnny asks.
“I’m feeling good, how about you? Still remember all of it?”
“In perfect detail,” he breathes. “Although… a little reminder wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you tease as he leans in, cupping your face so he can press his lips to your own.
God, you’re such a good kisser. It just works. It’s hard for him to even pull away, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.
“Take me out on a date,” you say.
“Hmm?”
“A date,” you repeat. “Just because we’ve known each other for years doesn’t mean we can skip steps.”
“I respect that,” Johnny nods. “I’ve got a busy week, and it will have to be a night where Soonie is out, but… we’ll make it work.”
Johnny’s so certain it will work, because things between you have always worked, and he can’t wait to see where this takes you.
Ten
It’s been a week, but finally Johnny found time for that date night. Soonie is out with friends again, so it’s the perfect opportunity to get some alone time with the man who’s been on your mind constantly.
He picks you up in his old Dodge truck, compliments your outfit, and refuses to tell you where you’re going or what the plan is.
When you arrive back at his place, you’re honestly not even surprised. “Let me guess, you took me to the best chef in town?”
“You know all my lines, honey,” he grins.
“So, chef, what’s on the menu?”
“I thought maybe you’d take a seat and let me cook for you.”
“As if I’d take a back seat,” you scoff. “What are we making?”
Johnny had made hand made fettucini before he’d come to pick you up. You let him take lead in making a white wine, garlic cream sauce with button mushrooms, spinach and crispy prosciutto, but you insist on being his sous chef and taking care of the chicken.
The smell is heavenly, and as he finishes it all off with fresh herbs, you think you start to drool a little.
“For a guy who claims to specialize in sandwiches of all things, you’re pretty good with italian,” you muse as you take your first bite and nearly moan.
“I’m pretty good with a lot of things,” Johnny laughs.
“Look at you being all cocky.”
“You love it.”
He’s so right.
The two of you chat and laugh together while eating. It’s one of the best meals you’ve had in a very long time. When dinner is over, Johnny suggests a movie. As the two of you settle on the couch, he prompts you to come closer, and soon, the two of you are cuddled together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He’s so warm and comforting- you find yourself dozing off a little, although, maybe it’s something of a food coma from all the pasta.
Johnny brings his lips to your ear, and you shiver when he asks, “Should I carry you to bed, honey?”
Part of you wants to tell him you’re not Soonie and you won’t be calling him daddy any time soon- but another part of you wants to lean into this. It’s been so long since you felt like you could be babied, and if anyone is going to bring out that side of you, it’s going to be Johnny.
“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask, cognizant of the stairs he’ll have to climb.
“Have you seen my arms? I won’t drop you, honey, I promise.”
You allow him to scoop you up, and you feel like a giggling school girl again as he takes you up to his room. “Do you have a shirt I could wear to sleep?”
“Choose anything,” he tells you. “When you’re changed, you can join me in the bathroom, I went and got a toothbrush for you.”
Before you know it, you’re cuddled in Johnny’s bed, wearing panties and one of his big shirts. He’s pressed to your back, his mint tinged breath warm on the nape of your neck. There’s no pressure for sex, no pressure for anything other than the situation at hand, and you can tell you’re both very content with it.
Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of a man who’s been a cornerstone of your life.
It’s a deep, dreamless sleep, and it passes in the blink of an eye. You awaken to light beaming through his window, a warm body behind you, and something hard pressed against your ass.
You laugh to yourself- morning wood isn’t something men can help. Even so, you stir a little, adjusting to get more comfortable.
Johnny releases a sleepy groan.
You stay still, not wanting to wake him, but it feels like the damage is already done when he wraps you tighter in his embrace. “Morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“Hi,” you respond lightly.
Now it’s Johnny’s turn to shift, and you feel his body tense when he does so. “Fuck,” he goes to pull away, “sorry, I uh-”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, grabbing his forearm so he can’t move away, “keep cuddling me.”
Johnny returns, flush against your back, his hard cock pressing even more firmly to your ass.
“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” he asks.
“More than okay with it.”
“Yeah?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your throat. “Are you okay with this, too?” Johnny mumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin.
“Uh huh,” you sigh, wiggling your bum back against him and arching your neck to give him better access.
His hand finds your hip, gently squeezing you through the shirt you’re wearing. His lips are soft against you, but there’s a need in his motions too, and he begins to grind against your ass.
You let out a groan when he finds the sweet spot just below your ear, and he licks at it, making you moan louder.
“Are we going to do this?” he asks, nipping at your earlobe.
“Fuck it, yes.” You can’t hold back anymore, you turn in his embrace, quickly mounting him and smashing your lips to his own.
Johnny grins into the kiss, holding your hips while you settle on top of him, grinding down against his clothed cock while your tongues begin to clash.
His kisses have you seeing stars, your mind going blank except for him.
Soon, his hands slip under your shirt, slowly grazing up your sides. “Can I take this off of you?” he asks.
You open your eyes to look down at him, studying his pretty lips and his chocolate eyes.
Instead of responding, you sit up, grabbing the hem of the oversized T and lifting it over your head, tossing it to the side and baring yourself to your best friend for the first time.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, gaze falling to your tits. His hands stay at a respectable location on your hips, and you grab one to lift it to your breast, adding pressure so he knows he’s allowed to give you a test squeeze.
Johnny begins to massage you, and you throw your head back, releasing a groan, swiveling your hips against him.
His thumb brushes over your hardened nipple and you mewl loudly, core throbbing from the stimulus.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, propping himself up so he can take your nipple into his mouth.
You cup the back of his head, keeping him on your chest while he worships you. His other hand finds your neglected breast, gently pinching and massaging while he sucks on your sensitive bud.
“John-” You don’t even know what to say, you’re entirely wrapped up in him.
You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch.
Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
Johnny pulls away from your breasts, cupping the back of your head and drawing your lips to his again. “We should take our clothes off,” he suggests.
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all week,” you laugh.
He helps you off of him, and you lay next to each other for a moment, both fumbling to get naked. As soon as you’re fully nude, Johnny rolls on top of you, slotting between your thighs. His lips find yours again, and his free hand trails down your body, teasing through your pussy lips.
“You’re already so wet,” he muses.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” you admit.
“Me too,” he assures you, capturing your mouth with his own while he teases a finger into your hole. You push your hips up, wanting more, and you latch onto his strong shoulders, moaning into the kiss.
Johnny’s a big man, and his finger is enough to have you wriggling below him. “Easy, honey,” he grins, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. “Gotta stretch you open.”
“Fuck,” you groan- does this man read erotica in his spare time? How is a thirty year old, single dad, this well versed in dirty talk even though you’re pretty sure he hasn’t been laid in forever?
He adds a second finger, curling them to find your gspot. As he pumps his hand, lips pressed to yours in a mad frenzy, you can hear your wetness with each motion.
It feels unreal- have fingers alone ever done a number like this on you?
Johnny twists his hand a little, knuckles dragging along your sensitive inner walls. It’s like he’s trying to carve out a space for his cock, although, you know now that this won’t be enough. He’s thick and throbbing on your hip, his length so large you think he might just blow your entire back out when he slips it into you.
Even though you’re eager to be - for lack of a better word - impaled on him, Johnny takes his time kissing you, his fingers continuing their motions. “Wanna rub your clit for me?” he asks, moving his mouth to your neck. “I want to watch you cum.”
Your toes curl at his words, and you bring your hand to your pussy, drawing circles on the sensitive bud while he continues to stroke your inner walls.
Your core throbs around him, whimpers of pleasure escaping you.
“You’re being so good for me, honey,” Johnny tells you, making your insides flutter even more from the sincere words of praise.
Cumming hasn’t always been the easiest thing in the world for you. There are many partners you’ve had who never had the wherewithal to get you there- but somehow, Johnny just knows you. Or maybe, it’s because he knows you- because you feel safe with him, that you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
It also helps that it’s your own fingers on your clit, you know exactly what you like, what pressure, what motions- the digits working you open are just an added bonus that have you seeing stars as you make your way to your peak.
“John,” you gasp, tits pushing up toward his chest when your back arches. “I’m gonna-”
“Let it out for me,” he encourages you softly. “You deserve it.”
“I deserve your cock,” you whine, shocked at your own blatant neediness.
Johnny only laughs. “After,” he assures you, “I promise.”
A few more circles of your clit has the cord in your stomach snapping, your orgasm washing over your like warm summer waves. Your entire body tingles with delight, gasps leaving you as your pussy fully throbs around his fingers, your clit pulsing with desire.
“So pretty,” he whispers, bringing his lips to yours.
From the way he smiles against your mouth, you can tell he doesn’t care that you’re moaning so much he can hardly kiss you.
It’s a closeness you’ve never felt before, and he helps you through your orgasm until you’re pulling your hand away in favour of grabbing his shoulders.
Johnny takes his fingers out of your core, and you watch under hooded eyelids as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean and releasing a groan. “Everything you do tastes better than what I bring to the table.”
You laugh. He’s such a fucking chef.
“Some might even say it’s…” you stifle a giggle, “Finger licking good.”
Johnny lets out a laugh, eyes lighting up. God, you love this soft, laughter infused sex- you’ve never experienced anything like it.
You grab the back of his neck, drawing his mouth to your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and there’s something so erotic about it. He moans loudly, rubbing his cock between your wet pussy lips.
The tip of his cock is stimulating your clit and it sends jitters through you. You can feel how soaked you are, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this ended with a wet patch on his bed from how turned on you’ve been throughout this whole experience.
Johnny seems intent with grinding against you, but you’re lacking patience today, and you reach between your bodies to grab his cock.
Johnny breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down at where you’re gripping him. He doesn’t say anything, his gaze shifting back to your own. There’s a question in his eyes, and you’re both aware that this is the final line. Once you cross this, there’s no going back.
You bring his cock to your wet hole, and with very little effort, you help guide the head of his cock inside of you.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans immediately, fists bunching at the pillow on either side of your head. “You’re so tight- are you sure you’re good with this?”
“You’re just- fuck,” you whimper as another inch sinks into you, “you’re just big!”
“Maybe you’ll have to get used to it,” he grins, pushing deeper.
You moan loudly, clawing at his shoulders. “Maybe I will,” you gasp.
He brings his mouth close to your own, until your lips are just brushing, eyes meeting when he says, “I’m looking forward to it.”
As he kisses you, he pushes fully into your warm, wet, throbbing core. His hips are flush to your own, and you swear no one’s ever been this deep inside of you.
Your legs shake on either side of his hips, body suspended in this odd purgatory-like place between extreme pleasure, and an uncomfortable feeling of being stretched more than you’ve ever been stretched before.
“Are you good?” he asks, lips moving to your cheek while you struggle to aclimatize to his cock.
“Yeah,” you nod quickly. “Just- fuck me, it will be easier.”
“If you say so, honey.”
The first thrust has your toes curling, eyes clenching shut with pleasure. A sound that’s never come from you before leaves your lips- a sound you’ve heard in porn, but always thought was an overexpression.
Your fingers dig into Johnny’s shoulders, and he holds you close, mouth finding your neck while he begins to fuck you.
Although, would this be called fucking?
The fluidity of his motions- the way you’re clinging to each other- it feels more like making love, and your skin tingles with the realization.
“Johnny?” you whisper.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me you love me again, like you did when you were drunk.”
“I love you,” he says immediately, holding you even tighter. “I love you so much that sometimes it hurts.”
Your entire body both relaxes and is set on fire by his words, your core throbbing desperately around his massive cock.
“Johnny-” you whimper.
“Tell me you love me too,” he pleads.
“I love you too,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his face close to yours so you can look up into his eyes. “I love you too.”
Johnny’s hand finds your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip. Somehow, he hits even deeper now, and you wriggle below him, more sounds of pleasure escaping you and filling the room.
“You sound so good, honey- I won’t last if you keep squeezing me and moaning-”
“Then don’t last,” you gasp. “Want you to cum.”
“Where should I cum?”
“Inside- I’m on birth control, just- fuck, Johnny, cum inside.”
He groans, pressing his mouth firmly to your own, his tongue dancing along yours as his motions get even faster.
You’re clinging to him for dear life at this point, and when he slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, you nearly begin to cry from how good it feels.
“Love the way your pussy sucks me in when we play with your clit,” he tells you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck-
“Do you think you can cum for me again? I don’t want to be the only one cumming.”
“Yeah, yeah- fuck, yeah, I can cum again,” you whimper desperately.
“Let me know when,” he instructs, adjusting his motions ever so slightly so each thrust has his cock dragging against your gspot.
You let out a squeal of delight, your thighs shaking around his hips, stomach muscles clenching almost painfully-
“Fuck, John, I’m there- shit, fuck-”
Johnny shuts you up with his lips against your own, and for a second time, your orgasm hits you.
Your core clamps down incredibly hard on his cock, and Johnny groans deeply above you, fingers twitching on your clit. He keeps his pace, and a moment later, you feel his cum filling you up, coating your walls with warmth.
The feeling of his large length throbbing in your own oversensitive hole has your entire mind going fuzzy, and you kiss him like a woman lost, like a woman so completely in love that nothing else matters.
You ride out your orgasms together, until you’re both shaking. Only then does Johnny come to a stop on top of you, kisses turning to a more gentle nature as he holds you close.
“I love you,” he tells you again.
You smile, blinking up at your best friend. “And I love you.”
Epilogue
The two of you are in the kitchen cooking brunch. Johnny is pressed to your back, watching intently, asking all sorts of questions about how you cook eggs to make them so delicious and superior to his own.
“The secret ingredient is love,” you tease.
Johnny can only laugh, holding you tighter.
He’s so lost in you, that he loses track of time, and as the two of you are sitting down to eat, Soonbok walks through the front door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you, letting her little overnight bag slip to the ground.
“Oh, hi, baby,” Johnny stands up immediately.
“Hi, daddy,” Soonie says, allowing her dad to pick her up for a hug while her eyes shift to you.
“Did Sabrina’s mom drop you off?” Johnny asks, looking out the door to wave at Soonie’s friend’s mom as she drives away.
“As always, daddy,” Soonie laughs. “I didn’t know y/n was coming over.”
“Surprise,” you grin, also standing so that when Johnny sets his daughter to the ground, she can run to give you a hug of your own.
Once Soonie is done squeezing you as tight as her little arms can muster, she looks between you and Johnny. For some reason, Johnny feels his heart beginning to race, there’s a knowing in his daughters eyes.
“What’s going on?” Soonie asks finally.
“Y/N and I just had a little sleep over,” Johnny tries to explain, and the concept isn’t a new one, you sleep over frequently… in the guest bedroom.
“So…” a wicked grin appears on Soonbok’s face, “Does this mean you’ll stop trying to get me to call her auntie now?”
“What?” Johnny lets out a surprised laugh.
“You heard me, daddy,” Soonbok’s smile widens. “Does this… does this mean we’ll be a real family now?”
Johnny lets out a shuddery breath. In the years you’ve been helping raise Soonbok, Johnny has broached the idea of her calling you Auntie Y/N, as a respect thing, and his daughter has always refused. Had she seen the connection this whole time? Has this been something Soonbok has wanted ever since she was a five year old with an inquisitive mind and an even more discerning eye?
Johnny’s gaze shifts to you, and you flash him a warm smile.
“Yeah, baby,” Johnny picks up his daughter. “We can be a real family now.”
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! This was such a fun project for me, thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to write for Chef John, he deserved his happy ending :)
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🔮 preview. The man ordering can’t see you lying on the floor of the food truck. He has no idea what’s going on- and you feel like tempting fate a little. You bring your hand to your pussy, beginning to rub yourself through your pants, adjusting the vibrator ever so slightly as it buzzes inside you. Johnny nearly drops the tomato he’s holding, quickly tearing his gaze from yours. You’ve never seen him trying to focus this hard- and failing. What had been your torture initially, has just become his own, and you kind of love it.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a food truck), use of vibrator while helping a customer, vibrator as a makeshift gag ball, breast worship, fucking with half your clothes on, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, etc… I petnames. (hers) honey
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 230
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
bonus
You love working with Johnny. Sure, it had been rough at first, getting his food truck on its feet, but it’s been two years, and with some insanely good marketing, you’re now running one of the top trucks in the city.
It’s a joy to watch Johnny fulfill his dreams every day- his odd obsession with sandwiches of all things has only added to your connection. Watching him smile and charm guests makes your heart swell with joy, and on the rare occasion Soonie comes to do the register and take orders, it feels like you’re just one happy family.
Today, however, is a weather disaster. The forcast had mentioned light sprinkles, but cuddled next to Johnny looking out at the torrential downpour, you both feel a little bamboozled.
“You know what would make this more fun?” Johnny asks.
“Customers?” you suggest.
“Yes, but also… I got you something.” The chef flashes you a sly smirk, and you pull away from his shoulder to asses him.
“Am I going to like where this is going?” you ask.
He was single for so long- and there’d been so many sexual things he’d missed out on during that time, but the two of you are making up for it every moment you have alone. You suppose this is a moment alone, so you’re not really shocked that his mind is in the gutter.
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