#didn’t even touch the kitchen i…. yeah no

[therealcocoshady]

The Hoodie

A/N : Hey guys ! I'm sorry, I'm not uploading a lot, these days. I have been drowning in work for my PhD dissertation... Also, I've been super sick. I actually allowed myself a break for daydreaming about snuggling in Marshall's hoodie 👀. Anyway, here is a little blurb and I hope you enjoy it ❤️.

Summary : you are dating Eminem and you are sick while spending a few days at his place. Ever the thoughtful boyfriend, he comforts you and gives you one of his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie.

CW : Fluff

The Michigan wind whipped through the trees outside, rattling against the windows.Marshall sat at his desk in the corner of his home studio, trying to focus. Beats thumped softly in the background, lyrics half-formed in his mind, but something wasn’t right.A small cough echoed from the bedroom, reminding him why he couldn’t concentrate. You had been battling a nasty cold for days now. You’d tried to play it off at first, but the stubborn fever, the constant sniffling, and the exhausted look in your eyes were impossible to ignore.He sighed, running a hand over his face before standing up. He was busy and he had tons of work to do for his upcoming projects, but he didn’t like the thought of being locked in the home studio while his girlfriend being sick in bed. It felt incredibly selfish. It was bad enough that he had to spend part of what should have been a lazy weekend with you working, and he wanted to be there to comfort you. You’d been together for a little while, nearly a year, and, though he’d been guarded at first, he had come to care for you deeply and it was time to put the feeling in action. 

He walked down the hall, pausing at the door to the bedroom. You were curled up under the thick comforter, your nose peeking out from the blankets. Your hair was a mess, but even like this, he couldn’t help but think that you had that effortless beauty that always caught him off guard.“You okay?” he asked softly, stepping into the room.You peeked one eye open, offering him a weak smile. “Been better,” you rasped. “But I’m surviving.”Marshall frowned, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You should’ve told me earlier how bad it was. You’re burning up.” You chuckled lightly, but it ended in a coughing fit. You waved a hand dismissively once it passed. “Just a cold. I didn’t want to bother you.” Marshall shook his head. “You ain’t bothering me. You should’ve said something.” He stood up, heading toward the closet. “Hold up. You’re always freezing. I got something for you.”

You watched him curiously as he rummaged through a pile of clothes before pulling out his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie. It was old, worn in, and oversized, but it was the softest thing he owned. “That’s your favorite hoodie.”, you pointed out. He smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, but you’re cold. And if you get better faster, maybe I’ll get it back sooner.” He tossed it onto the bed next to you. “Put it on. You’ll be warmer.” You hesitated for a second but then reached out, grabbing the hoodie and slipping it over your head. As soon as the fabric touched your skin, you melted into its warmth. It was so soft and smelled faintly of him—of cologne and something uniquely Marshall. You buried your face in the collar, sighing contentedly. “Okay, you were right. This is amazing.” Marshall chuckled, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “Told you. That’s a certified Detroit classic right there. Ain’t nobody who wouldn’t feel better wearing it.” You gave a small laugh, your eyes heavy with exhaustion but a bit of the tension seemed to leave your body as you got cozy in the hoodie. “I’m not giving this back,” you teased, your words a little slurred as you started to drift off. Marshall smiled faintly, watching you. “You keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”. 

After a few days, you finally got better. You hadn’t let go of the hoodie. The warmth, the smell, and the comfort it gave you had become your safety blanket. Standing in the kitchen, you caught your reflection in the window—there you were, swimming in his oversized hoodie, the faded Lions logo worn down from years of wear. As much as you loved how it made you feel, you knew you couldn’t keep it forever. You knew it was his favorite and you had come to understand that he could get very sentimental when it comes to certain items. You heard Marshall come in behind you, his steps heavy on the wooden floor. He dropped his keys on the counter and cracked open a bottle of water, taking a long sip before leaning against the kitchen island, watching you with that half-smirk of his.

“You look better,” he commented, his eyes flicking to the hoodie you were still wrapped up in. You tugged at the sleeves, glancing down at yourself. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. Thanks to this, mostly.” You gestured at the hoodie, then gave him a sheepish smile. “Speaking of which, I should probably give it back.” Marshall raised an eyebrow, setting his water bottle down. “Why would you do that?” You let out a soft laugh. “Because it’s yours? And I’ve been hogging it for days now. I mean, it’s your favorite.” He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness. “It was my favorite,” he said, his voice low but teasing. “But now it’s yours.” You blinked, surprised. “What do you mean? You love this thing.”. “Yeah, but I love seeing you in it more.” Marshall shrugged casually, but there was an earnestness in his voice that caught you off guard. He reached out, gently pulling at one of the sleeves, the fabric falling long past your fingertips. “You look good in it. Better than I ever did.”. Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to downplay it. “I don’t know, you kinda rocked the baggy hoodie look,” you teased. Marshall chuckled, his eyes softening as he gazed at you. “Nah, you can keep it. I’ll grab another one. It’s just a hoodie, anyway.” You bit your lip, looking down at the oversized garment again, fingers tracing the worn-out logo. It felt like more than just a hoodie. It felt like a piece of him—something intimate and familiar, something you never realized you needed until now. “But it’s not just a hoodie,” you said softly, glancing up at him. “It’s yours. It smells like you… and it’s—" You paused, realizing how cheesy you were about to sound. “It’s kinda special.” Marshall gave you a small, crooked smile. “Yeah, it’s special. And that’s why I want you to have it. You’ve been through a lot this past week. It makes me feel better knowing you got something to hold onto when I’m not around.” You looked at him, your heart warming at the sentiment. He wasn’t always good with words when it came to this kind of stuff, but when he was, it hit you right in the chest. You stepped closer to him, arms wrapping around his waist, your face pressed against his chest. “Thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled but sincere. “For everything.” He rested his chin on top of your head, his arms coming up to hold you close. “Don’t mention it. Just... don’t forget to wash it every once in a while. I don’t want my hoodie to smell like Vicks forever,” he joked, the vibration of his chest making you giggle. You pulled back slightly, smirking up at him. “No promises.” Marshall laughed, shaking his head, but his smile lingered as he looked down at you, still tucked into his hoodie like it was made just for you. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “it’s not about the hoodie. It’s just... I like knowing you’re taken care of. Even if it’s something small like that.”. You tilted your head, your eyes softening as you gazed up at him. “You’re sweet, you know that?”. He groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Don’t start with that,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if he couldn’t hold back the smile completely. You laughed and stood on your  tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Too late.” For a moment, you both stood there in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s arms, the hoodie now a symbol of something more between you. It wasn’t just about the comfort it gave you—it was about how it made you feel connected to him, even in the simplest of ways. As you settled back against his chest, Marshall kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. “Keep the hoodie,” he said again, this time almost a whisper. “It’s yours. Like me.”

[evanescencelovrr]

Part 8 college!simon x reader. Reader works her first shift at the bar and meets team 141 🙊 feel free to like comment & reblog!

Masterlist here ✉️

First shift. You muttered to yourself, buckling your black belt in your jeans. All black outfit, perfect for waitressing. Your hair was tucked in a bun to keep it neat, some strands fallen. Closing shut your mirror, you eyed your dorm room, taking off the lights before leaving with your bag.

“I wonder what that crew is like…apparently they must mean a lot to him.” You said, under your breath as you walked to the main street. The bar was located behind Campus apparently and took about 15 minutes to reach. It wasn’t horrible—you saw shitty motel buildings and broken neon lights along the way.

Cars passed by every now and then. Your mind drifted back to Simon. Maybe that was where he got those eyebags from—working all these night shifts.

The bell rings as you enter and of course, you hear an electric guitar strumming over the speakers. Glasses clink and the displays are showing a football match. You nervously approach the counter and soon a man comes in—mohawk, beard and sharp eyes. Tanned. Tall, muscular and a rag thrown over his shoulder.

What you didn’t expect what his strong scottish accent. “Aye, y’er ere’ fa’ the job, lass?”

“Yes—“ You furrowed your brows, slowly comprehending it to which he barked out a laugh. You weren’t sure you heard him right and the words just spilled out your mouth.

His shiny teeth glittered in the lights. “C’mon, love, no reason t’ be scared. Names Johnny.”

“Of course sir—“

“Johnny.” He said firmly, eyes cutting a glance at you as he began cleaning the glasses with his rag.

You nodded and bit your lip—first mistake. You then made your way behind the counter, boots thudding against the ground. You always wore your lil platform combat boots—added a nice touch.

“Lieutenants got a hold on’ ya?” Johnny said suddenly, eyeing you. Confused, you turn to look at him and you shake your heard, lips tugging down a bit.

“I wouldn’t—“

“Damned man. Cannae help it, you’re a pretty one.” Johnny smiled, rolling his eyes and grinning.

You stare mildly shocked at his carefree attitude, not knowing what exactly to say—or how Simon would respond to this.

After a pause, you then say, “Show me around, yeah?”

“Look at er’ givin’ me orders.” Johnny teased and then got to work, dropping his causal persona. He led you gently to the kitchen, showing you where to restock the fruits. Oranges went in one crate.

Apples in another.

Lemons to the side.

You nodded.

He then showed you how to clean the damn ice maker, which took a good portion of training. He even had you do it, watching you. A half hour at least passed.

“Y’er gettin’ it.” Johnny said, pleased. He patted your back hefty, and you nearly groaned at each pat. He was heavy handed.

You scoff a bit and smile, slowly getting comfortable. After that, was washing and soaking the glasses in lukewarm water to get stains out and debris. And then drying them. And then placing them on the hanging racks by the bar counter for use.

Just then, the door rung and Simon walked in, ready for his shift. When he rounded the counter and saw you, back facing him and drying a glass, he froze momentarily. He then slid his hands into the dark wash of his jeans, black button up wrinkling.

“See ya’ made it in one piece.” A gruff voice said from behind you. You recognized it.

You turned around and grinned, brow raising slightly at his appearance. He sure cleaned up nicely, although his stubble remained rough, hair uncombed. It looked like he ran his fingers through it multiple times.

“Johnny over there s’been keeping me alive. Does he always have a knack for teasin’?”

“Shit, shoulda mentioned that to ya. Don’ let em’ talk his way in y’er panties.” Simon said gruffly, although eyes flashing in amusement. His heavy lidded eyes raised and you found yourself staring a bit longer than necessary, and then turned around. Carefully rearranging the glasses so they stood upside down—the wet ones draining.

“Would be funny all he found were a pair of balls. Steel ones.”

With that, Simon let out a small laugh. A choked out chuckle, shoulders jerking up and grin stretching wide. The curve of his nose wrinkled, eyes flashing down to undo his cuffs to raise his sleeves over his hair forearms.

“Steel ones you said? Quite the image.” And with that, leaving you dazed and flustered, he went off to the kitchen.

——

As Simon approached the kitchen to begin slicing the oranges, and lemons, Johnny appeared.

“Ya’ got a lass under ya now?”

“Shut it, before I stuff Price’s unwashed sock in y’er mouth.” Simon is at it, gruff and glaring. Brows pinched together, big hands cradling the lemon. He tosses it up, then catches it, giving a sharp glance to Johnny who grins mischievously.

“I ain’t signin’ myself up fa’ tha’.” Johnny winced playfully and moved back, to which Simon found it pleasing. Even at work, he was still regarded as Lieutenant—which should still be. Regardless of being at base or not. His position would remain.

He then glanced at you, who leaned against the counter and spoke to a customer. Your grin, although some strands fell delicately, most was tucked away neatly. You shook the drink, mixing and poured it over.

You seemed to be adjusting pretty well.

‘’Aye, lass, come work the back, yea?’’ Johnny called out, from the kitchen. You moved swiftly on your feet, after given the man his drink to which he dropped tips on the counter.

‘’Ya forgot—‘’ Simon started when you breezed past him, sighing through his nose. He walked up, cleaning his scarred hands with the rag, and then slid the tips over.

‘’For that girl.’’ said the man, drinking his mojito and eyeing Simon. He didn’t like this fella. Something itched at him. Maybe it was the sly twinkle in the mans eye, the slight lift of his lip. Bushy eyebrows peeked out.

“Didn’t need ta’ explain yourself.” Simon muttered, stuffing the tips in his pockets, although in his left, making sure to keep his tips separate from yours. Seems you still had some learning to do.

The man returned to his drink, although occasionally eyeing Simons back who now worked the front of the bar. He used the calculator to punch in numbers. Just then, a crowd of people came in—as usual. Night settled now and chatter arose in the bar.

Barstools shook as people sat, slamming hands and cheering. Simon approached and leaned his hands on the edge, eyeing them. “What ave’ we got?”

“Whiskey, neat.”

“Same here.”

“Gimme a scotch, good man.”

Behind, you worked cutting the oranges skin off. Stealthy hands worked and even Johnny let out a whistle. “Things ya’ canna do with those hands.”

You found your breath catching and you shifted on your boots, leaned over the table. You pinched your brows. “You woke up cheery today.”

Johnny laughed and sautéed the vegetables, steam rising. A crackle sound rung in the air, then hissing as he mixed in steak. About halfway, he flipped it expertly. “Jus’ focus on makin’ them hands work, yea?”

“You got it, Johnny.” You quirked, releasing some of your rigidity. He grinned, eyeing you for a second appreciating your tenacity. Slowly, you were getting used to this work environment. It appeared to be smooth, occasionally filled with teasing and banter. Maybe this wasn’t so bad—you thought.

Simon didn’t like as soon as you arrived—new recruit—you’d gotten stares. What he didn’t like were the usual assholes that crept up here every night. He figured he should give you a heads up, although maybe you knew. He wasn’t sure.

And he also wouldn’t lie, you were a pretty thing. He stilled himself once he realized his train of thought, then went back to shaking the drink harder. Almost as if threatening the damn drink. Brows pinched in semi focus— and a hint of irritation at himself. He then removed the shaker and poured smoothly the drink into the glass, pushing it towards the rugged man.

Just then, he spotted Price who arrived. He took his jacket off, resting it on the hook in the small closet next to yours. The man didn’t take long to realize what had changed. ‘’We got a new one?’’

“Aye, shes in the back.” Simon responded, voice lowered.

“She?”

“Got a problem?”

“Nah, just thought you’d bring in a little lad, is all.” Price grinned widely, small eyes crinkling. His mustache brushed his lips.

Price earned a look from Simon. His usual stoic, and cold demeanor not wavering. As Simon leaned against the soda machine, he then perked up when a woman approached the bar, lipstick smudged and hair a wavy mess. Price took this to his advantage and moved to the back.

“Gimme—“

“Gimme a…Malibu mixed with pineapple and cranberry.” She mumbled, grasping the counter and smiling at Simon.

Price then saw you, peeling away at the oranges skillfully. Beside you were a whole basket—unpeeled. And another—ready to go. Price grabbed his apron and tied it round’ his waist, chin tilted down, eyes not leaving you. “Recruit, see ya’ made it to the team.”

You jumped as you were stuck in focus and the man smiled, one corner lifting up. He looked like a millennial dad, you thought. Shifting on your boots, you watched as deft fingers made a skill-full knot behind his back and then he moved to the table beside you.

He grasped at the large knife, as it shined in the overhead light.

“Names y/n.” You said, Johnny taking a long glance over at the scene as Price began slicing smoothly at the chicken.

“You up for waiting tables?” Price said gruffly.

“You got it, sir.”

And at that, Price gave you a smug smile, eyes flashing over you. Johnny then prepared a plate, handing it to you. His tall form towered over you for a moment before going back to prepare another round.

“That ones’ fa’ table five, love.” Johnny said and your eyes peeked up at the nickname. Honestly it seemed casual for him—maybe there was no meaning behind it.

Nodding, you grasped the plate and then caught eyes with Price. He was busy slicing the flesh clean.

Wasn’t so bad for my first shift, you thought.

[acesgayhusband]

Write more Sanji fics or Ace GETS IT (this is a threat)

🍩🔫

Let me get what I want.

Warnings: None I don’t believe? Self deprecating Sanji if you squint. Crybaby reader. Angst to Mild Fluff. I was threatened to make this /j.

AN: sorry for being dead for so long, I had a job and then abruptly didn’t have a job, I went to galaxycon early this year, then a concert, then got into a car accident, then lost my job. So I’ve been struggling! Thank you guys for being so patient with me! I’ll be writing more fanfics soon I promise. Requests are still open! I don’t get nearly enough.

Also this fic is mildly inspired by @onlymurphy ! Their works are fantastic and they write sanji so well!!! Please go read their works if you haven’t already!!

Sanji could hear your feet clacking along the sunny as you began to walk from the deck, where he presumed you were sitting and chatting with Robin and Nami, before you made your way to the kitchen.

He didn’t think it a creepy habit to have memorized your footsteps he did it with everyone’s, yours just stood out the most. But he kept all of that to himself, not wanting to drive you off by knowing you just by the sound of your feet, his heart already racing in his chest well before you opened the door to the kitchen.

“Hi, Sanji.” Your voice was so heavenly, he had to prevent himself from swooning too hard at it. He’d treat you like every other woman he spoke to.

“Hi, [Name]-Swan! Is there anything I can do for a beauty such as yourself.” He said as he turned around, seeing you roll your eyes at him, it made him falter a bit, the smile on his face drooping a bit as you walked over to the cupboard, opening it and grabbing a cup out of it.

“I just needed some water, thanks though.” There was no malice in your tone, perhaps he was reading too much into you? His eyes followed you as you walked to the sink. “Well you know I wouldn’t mind getting you three something to drink.” He walked up behind you and smiled, tapping his fingers along your spine gently, enjoying the slight shiver he felt from you.

“We’re fine, and stop doing that.” Hissing as you swatted his hand away before reaching for the faucet to fill your cup up. He retracted his hand ever so slightly. You’d never been remotely sour to him, nor had you ever swatted him away when he touched you.

“Is everything okay, pretty?” He peaked around to your front to look at you, just to see a scowl on your face. He could feel his heart drop in his chest.

“Yeah! Everything’s great when you don’t constantly have your hands over me and the other girls!” You yelled out, snapping towards him, before turning the water off and storming out of the kitchen, your footsteps stomping back to where you were previously before you came into the kitchen.

Standing there, dumbfounded, he stared out the kitchens door. You’d never shown any distaste for how he treated you? Sure he could be a little handsy but he never took it too far, you weren’t dating, and he never disillusioned himself with the thought you’d want him.

After a moment, he walked to shut the door and pressed his back against it.

Ever since you had joined the crew, he’d been far more infatuated with you than Nami or Robin, you were down right beautiful to him.

You weren’t abrasive, but you weren’t incapable of taking care of yourself. You had a sweet, simple smile on your face most of the time, but you were sensitive. Loudly wailing whenever any one of your crewmates were injured, screaming out for Chopper even if he was no where in sight. Even over a slight cut.

This was so out of character for you, the off chance you were rude, you typically apologized as soon as the words came out of your mouth.

Pushing tears back, Sanji walked back over to the stove and thought about what to make for dinner, hoping to keep the tears away for as long as possible.

“I dunno guys, that felt really mean.” You said as you sat down in your beach chair on the deck of the sunny, right in between Robin and Nami, resting your glass in between your thighs.

Robin didn’t look up at you as she continued to read her book, but Nami looked at you and scooted a little closer. “C’mon. You’ve been complaining to us for months about how he acts, plus, some guys like it when we play hard to get. Maybe it’ll get him to notice you instead of you just going along with whatever he does.” She smiled at you, running her fingers up your spine just like Sanji had done a few minutes prior, in a teasing manner.

But Nami’s fingers didn’t elicit a shiver from you, it just caused you to look down.

“I dunno, maybe? But he seemed kinda upset. I don’t wanna hurt his feelings.”

Nami rolled her eyes at you and put her sunglasses over her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. “You won’t, he probably wasn’t upset. You’re just overthinking it, keep up with it, at the worst maybe he’ll ask you if he did something wrong, he wouldn’t be mean to you.”

Looking down at your reflection in the glass, you sighed. “Okay, I trust you, Nami..”

For the rest of the week you have been unreasonably rude to Sanji- minus to his food, you would never stoop that low- shoving him away when he touched you, ignoring him or snapping at him when he said anything slightly flirty with you. By the fifth day he had completely stopped interacting with you, and that shattered your heart.

Yeah nice going Nami, all that trust down the drain.

During one of your night watches, all of your emotions had finally bubbled up as you looked over the rail at the ocean. Tears streaming down your cheeks as you fall to your knees, your hands gripping onto the rail as you choke back sob after sob. You’ve been hurting him, hurting the man you’ve had feelings for, for so long, he’s done nothing but be gentle with you and you’ve been hurting him.

You don’t have the sixth sense Sanji does with shoes, so when you hear footsteps walk up behind you, you assume it to be Nami, maybe even Robin.

So when you look over your shoulder at the person who came to you, you go wide eyed at the blonde haired cook behind you.

“Pretty? Is everything okay?” You take a moment to examine his face, his eyes seem red and puffy as well. But he’s taking the time to come to you and make sure you’re okay.

Shaking your head, he takes a single step closer before stopping himself. “May I?” He asked as he opens his arms, implying he’s trying to hug you, you nod your head so furiously you think if it wasn’t attached it would have fallen off.

He steps towards you and joins you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you in an almost suffocating hug, you in turn cling to his shirt and wail.

Although he hates to see you cry, apart of him is glad, maybe that means you’re back to your old self. Maybe he won’t have to beat himself up over what he did to hurt you, maybe he didn’t hurt you? But then why would you be so angry with him..

As you cry into his shirt, he can make out some words through your sobs. But not the whole story. Pulling away for a second, he lifts up your chin with his finger and smiles at you. “Hey.. hey- breathe, okay? You can tell me afterwards, alright?”

Nodding as you try to catch your breath, his other arm hasn’t left you. Oh how you missed him, so badly.

Once you calm down, you let out one more hitched breath before gripping his shirt even tighter.

“I’m.. I’m so sorry, ‘Ji. Nami told me maybe if I was mean to you maybe you’d stop flirting with everyone, maybe you’d truly… pay attention to me..” you mumbled as you looked down at the wood on the deck, using one of your fingers to trace against the grain.

Sanji swears in that moment god looked down on him and blessed him, you could hear his heart racing in his chest in that moment, even inches away.

He lifted your chin up once more. “Pretty, I do pay attention to you, far more than anyone else.” Smiling down at you as he saw your cheeks flare up.

“So you’re telling me, not only did I do the exact opposite of what I wanted, but you… actually like..” you motion your fingers between to two of you, Sanji chuckles a little bit and nods.

“I’m so sorry!” You wail out again as you throw yourself on top of him, suffocating him in the tightest hug you can manage, also probably waking up the rest of the crew in the process.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m just glad you’re back to normal, pretty.” You look up at him and see the widest grin across his face, all you can manage back is a weak, not nearly as strong, smile, as he leans down to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll sit with you the rest of you watch if you’d like.”

“I’d like that a lot, thank you, ‘Ji.”

“No need to thank me.”

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Yangyang x fem!Reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Unprotected vaginal sex. Creampie. CNC themes. "Forced" breeding. Breeding kink. Mentions of exhibitionism. YY curses in German. Pet names-- YY calls reader "his bunny" (that'll be a recurring theme if i ever write about him again) and reader calls him "little sheep".

| wc: 2.5k

| aurora's note: …I’m on a cnc kick. Sorry. Blame Twitter. I was about .0002 seconds away from adding mommy kink to this too, ok. Everyone say "thank you, aurora" for sparing you all lmao

You’ve been teasing Yangyang for so long that he’s beginning to wonder if he did something wrong— He dyed his hair pink for you since he knows how much you like it! And he did the laundry, all the dishes, he cleaned the house, made you dinner on your anniversary… Where did he go wrong? But it’s not that he upset you. Quite the opposite, actually, because ever since he dyed his hair for you, all you’ve wanted to do is fuck him 24/7. You wanted to keep him home from work all day, every day just for the sake of milking him dry… and you didn’t care if he’d sleep or not… You just- Fuck- You needed him so badly, but you knew that you couldn’t have what you wanted, so you withdrew slightly, trying your best to keep your hands to yourself because if you slipped up for even a moment then you’d have to go all in.

“Can you pass me the gochujang?” Yangyang asked as he stirred the pan on the stovetop. You agreed with a nod, opening the cupboard above your head to grab it from the first shelf, only… it wasn’t there like normal. No, it was higher up on the third shelf, a tad out of your reach. “You got it?”

“Yeah, one sec.” You stretched up high to grab the container, but your finger tips only grazed it, sending it shuffling an inch backwards. You huffed. “Who the Hell put it where it doesn’t belong?” Still, you tried your best, even putting a knee up on the counter to give you something to push up on to get more height.

“Don’t hurt yourself—“ Yangyang immediately abandoned the stove to step behind you, hands firmly grasping your hips to hold you steady while you finally got the gochujang and landed back on the floor safely.

You hesitated. Standing pressed against the counter, Yangyang’s hands on your hips, his breath hot on the back of your neck… You were slipping into dangerous territory which you’d tried so hard to avoid for so damn long. So you attempted to avoid the inevitable and shrug off his touch by accusing him of not putting the gochujang where it belonged! He apologized quietly. But his hands didn’t waver like you wanted, instead they tightened on your hips, and he pressed further against you. Inadvertently, your gaze flicked to the clock on the stove. 7PM. Dinner was supposed to be ready by 7:30PM so that he could go work out with Kun and Hendery at 8PM, then he would be home and in bed with you by 10PM— And you would pretend to be asleep like usual in order to avoid having him think he could finally fuck you.

“The food’s gonna burn,” you warned quietly.

Yangyang reached over to turn off the stove. The sizzling in the pan slowly died out, and the kitchen went quiet,

“You’re gonna be late to the gym.”

“I’ll cancel,” he whispered in your ear.

“You have work tomorrow.”

“I’ll call in sick.”

“You can’t fall behind in rehearsals before tour.”

“Not much anyone can do about it if I’m sick…”

And then Yangyang’s lips were pressed against your neck, leaving soft, gentle, teasing kisses, as if he were waiting for you to elbow him and kick him out of the apartment because all you’d done for weeks is look the other way when he showed any interest in fucking you. The erection pressed against your ass proved just how torturous those long weeks without your attention had been. How could you neglect him? He did so much for you. All he wanted was you…

Suddenly you spun around, letting Yangyang readjust his grasp onto the opposite hips now that you were facing him, and you immediately began kissing him passionately. He seemed a bit caught off guard. For the first few moments, he didn’t kiss you back, but once you tangled your fingers in his long pink hair, he was a goner, kissing you with so much passion that you tilted back into the counter, your head brushing the cupboard you’d fought with minutes prior. His hands wandered down until he found the soft spot right under your ass where he could grab you and lift you onto the counter, the perfect height for him to fuck you. 

It was completely unceremonial the way Yangyang pulled your pants down to your ankles and you simultaneously tore his shirt off his body all at the speed of light— Like the two of you were a pair of starved dogs who couldn’t hold back from feasting on their next meal. Your shirt went next, then his pants and underwear. Yangyang fiddled with your bra for a moment before unclasping it with a victorious moan vibrating against your nipple that he took into his mouth. The hold you hand on his pink hair tightened, urging him to move things along faster, having him stand up straight so that he could palm his erection with one hand while the other fell down to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit while two fingers teased your entrance to get you wet at quicker pace. You moaned, pulling him in for another deep kiss.

What happened to holding back? You promised yourself that you wouldn’t give in— Especially now when he was feeding your delusions about lying to his friends, coworkers, and bosses about his wellbeing just so he could stay home with you all day to fuck you dumb… or vice versa, if you ever had it your way. Honestly, you were distracted by the surprise that his hair was still so soft after all the dye and products he had to use to keep it such a bright pink color, and even then it was already fading, so he would have to decide sooner than later if he wanted to freshen it up or dye it a different color. Knowing hair dye, you knew that the pink wouldn’t come out or be covered up easily, so the unfortunate reality was that he would have to go a dark color… You hated that. The best thing in the entire world was whenever he would come home with some kind of new bright hair, like his famous pink or your favorite platinum or gray colors.

“Why’ve you been ignoring me?” he asked prior to a quiet grunt as he slid his fingers into your wet hole.

“Because—”

He hit your g-spot once he was inside and curling his fingers upwards.

“Because—”

And then he scissored his fingers open to stretch you wide enough for his waiting cock.

“Because I didn’t want to fuck you!”

He hesitated. “What?”

That wasn’t what you meant… It sounded wrong when you said it like that, but he was being a nuisance with his fingers, and it was the only way you could think to spew out your thoughts quickly before another pathetic moan could escape you.

“I mean… You’ve been so busy… Rehearsing, recording, working out, having meetings… I didn’t want to distract you…”

Slowly, his fingers thrusted into you again, but it was so slow that all it did was remind you that he was inside you rather than him trying to push you towards an orgasm.

“I didn’t think we’d have any time, Xiao Yang…”

He moaned at the nickname, his eyes rolling while his eyelids shut. “You’re so silly sometimes,” he whispered, curling his fingers again to make you arch your back and moan out his nickname for him. “I always have time for you.” He leaned in close to kiss your cheek. “Why do you think I keep dying my hair pink?”

That did it for the both of you— Within an instant, you were reaching out for his cock to stroke it while he stepped closer to the counter and you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. He took one last moment to appreciate that warmth of your tight walls wrapped around his fingers, then he pulled them out, only to replace them with the tip of his cock both of you were working together to line up at your entrance.

“You just wanted me that badly, hmm? Had to keep yourself away?” He grinned smugly.

With a roll of your eyes, you wrapped your legs around his waist and put one of your hands on the small of his back while the other remained in his hair. Yangyang let you take the lead by having you contract your legs and push on his back so that he slowly started pressing into you, filling you up inch by inch until he was completely inside, his length twitching with excitement.

“Go on, then, pretty boy, show me how much you missed me,” you told him.

“Ah, sheise,” he moaned in response, rushing to fuck you as a rough pace that made it hard to keep your legs wrapped around him. You didn’t want him going anywhere though. It’d been so long, both of you were so pent up, there was no reality in which you would ever let the two of you go on without fucking each other for so long in the future.

Yangyang’s thighs slapped against the cupboards underneath the counter you sat on every time he thrusted all the way inside of you. In and out. Tip to base. The sound of the two of you panting and moaning echoed throughout the apartment, the constant pace of his thrusts surely letting the neighbors know what you were up to. What if you guys took too long… What if Kun and Hendery came by to see what was wrong, why Yangyang missed their scheduled gym time for the first time in years— Honestly, you wouldn’t have cared, you would’ve kept going even with his friends watching, but you wondered if Yangyang would’ve stopped due to his embarrassment of being caught with his pants down and ball deep in his girlfriend.

“Harder, Xiao Yang,” you pleaded with him.

He pressed one hand against the cupboard over your head to support himself while fucking you even faster and leaning in to kiss you as a distraction from the way he was getting noticeably closer to his orgasm even though it hadn’t been that long. At least he was cute after denying him for so long… His desperation left him incapable of speaking or keeping his eyes open, and there was no way for him to fight against the tight hold your legs had around his waist.

“Fuck— Mein hase—“ He toppled a bit. “Need you to cum first…” He trailed his hand from your waist to your clit to rub fast circles around the sensitive bud, hoping to race you towards your orgasm faster than his own was approaching. “So fucking pretty when you take my cock, hase.”

You tugged on his hair, and Yangyang faltered slightly with a blissful moan. “So fucking pretty when you fuck me, Xiao Yang.” You won that battle. He immediately submitted to your Dominance with just a rough pull on his pink hair. “Make me cum, baby. Just like that!” Your hips bucked against his, the counter creaking under you.

The faster his fingers worked, the slower his hips went, but that was okay because you were finally teetering on the edge, your orgasm creeping up on you sooner than you thought possible… Maybe it really was a bad idea to stay away from him for so long. Not only was he desperate for you, but you were obviously just as eager to feel him in you again, his thin but long cock pistoning inside of you while his fingers expertly played with your clit the way you taught him. He really was the best listener. Your best boy.

“Yangyang!” you moaned.

Suddenly, you were cumming before you could warn him. Your walls tightened violently around him, causing him to hiss while flicking your clit even faster to make sure you properly rode out your high.

“I’m cumming— Sheise—“ He jerked his hips back like he was trying to pull out of you and instead elect to cum on your stomach, but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was the hold your legs had on him tightening, forcing him to stay buried inside of you. “Wait, wait, baby, I’m cumming—“ He struggled again. You held true.

“Cum inside of me, pretty boy.”

His legs shook under him as Yangyang couldn’t fight off his orgasm any longer. With a defeated moan, he came inside of you, panting in your ear, a cry of disbelief overtaking him. The two of you hardly ever fucked without a condom, so the idea of taking birth control consistently was… Well, not really important to either of you. With your hips tilted up, and him being held inside of you with nowhere to go, the thought of getting you pregnant scared him slightly, but even worse was that it made his orgasm hit him even harder. He could be the one to knock you up, to claim you. Everyone’d know you were his. His damn friends who took up so much of his time, preventing him from getting home to you, they would know you were his.

“I’m cumming again—“

Now you were the surprised one. Never before had Yangyang cum twice in a single round of fucking… And he didn’t even take time to fuck you again, building up to the orgasm. No, it just hit him like a ton of bricks. He remained in you, riding out his second strong orgasm that took his breath away, his hand wrapping around the cupboard handle tightly. When he tried to pull out of you again, you didn’t let up as either of you expected— No, you stared at his red cheeks, his heavy lidded eyes, and his jaw hanging agape, admiring the way he looked so fucked-out all because of you.

“Please,” he begged quietly.

You shook your head. “Gotta make sure it sticks.”

He moaned again, biting his lip and looking down at where your bodies met, the creaminess of his two loads already seeping out around his cock, standing his pelvis and the inside of your thighs.

“You’re so pretty when you can’t think straight, baby…” You smiled at him, brushing his sweaty pink hair out of his face. He blushed in response. “You’ll have to call in sick… I don’t think you’ll be able to leave bed tonight or tomorrow.” He gulped at the thought. “Pretty boy.”

Yangyang leaned back in to kiss you one more time. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And then there was a knock at the door. “Liu Yangyang! Where the fuck are you?!” Shit, Kun sounded pissed…

Yangyang tried to pull out of you again, as if he hadn’t learned his lesson yet, you weren’t letting him go, not even for his friends. He accepted his fate willingly. With a quiet sigh, he said that he’d text them that he was sick… and that he couldn’t make it to work the following day… You smiled at him, content with that conclusion, patting his pink hair to show your appreciation.

[screampied]

plz write a domestic toji fic

៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, house husband toji, reader is pregnant, toji attempting to cook, petnames.

wc. 1.8k

toji quirks an arched brow in frustration. with a concise glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday, it reads three am. sighing, the back of his wrist smears a sheet of sweat off his forehead as he gets a good sniff of the cuisine. like always, he stayed up all night, watching those random cooking mom videos on youtube. trying so hard to mimic their recipes and methods but failing anyway. “tch. fuckin’ shit,” he grumbles under his breath, covered in nothing but flour. the sizzling of the pan was quite loud. the smoke detector went off at least four times. he was wearing another thing you bought him. an apron that had the words of ‘kiss the cook’ imprinted near the front in bedazzled little sparkles. “why does it keep stickin’ to the pan.”

as his annoyance grows, he hears familiar little footsteps approach the linoleum kitchen floor. it’s you, his shoulders lower and his mood softens at the sight of you in comfy silk pajamas and a grouchy expression. “toji? ‘s like three in the morning,” and as you take a whiff of the air, you furrow your own two brows. “are you . . cooking?”

“yeah yeah,” he gruffly grouses, going back to whisking the flour. “go back ‘ta bed, baby. almost done. ‘m jus’ practicing.”

“at three am,” you deadpan, a hand rubbing against your plump growing tummy.

so cute, you were a few weeks pregnant yet everything was moving at such an rapid speed. with the way your body was changing so quick, he could barely keep up. toji hears the sass in your tone as you speak and he knows good and well he should be back in bed with you. you wondered why the left side of the mattress felt empty. you waddle over beside him, hugging him from behind. his bulging muscles rub against you and you let off a playful little whine. “tooooji, you need sleep. come back to bed.”

“princessss,” he plays along with a fake pout, his entire hands covered with piles and piles of doughy flour mix. “but ‘m makin’ breakfast for us two,” and with a brief notion of turning the fire down a bit, he utters last minute. “er— three.” and you smile at him not forgetting to include your unborn child.

toji never cooks, it’s always been just you.

it’s not like he was incapable or anything. he’s always found a liking to watching you cook though.

you always prepared him the best of meals, so good that it had his mouth watering, licking the tips of his tongue in sweet sweet relish.

right before you’d got pregnant, you’d pack him the most divine lunches for work, always with such loving care. you’d never forget to leave him a little adoring note or two, wishing him the best of shifts. so the moment you ended up getting knocked up, he wanted to try.

try to do better,

for you.

sacrificing his sleep wasn’t really an issue—he didn’t mind if it wasn’t for you and his unborn baby. and if toji had to learn how to cook simple meals, he’d do that.. despite the struggle it was.

giggling, you stretch your arms over his torso.

“toji . . making pancakes is easy,” you hum, and his muscles relaxes from your gentle touch.

he’s missed you dearly, even though he was only out of bed for at least a good hour now. hearing him swear vulgar curses underneath his breath at messing up the instructions was quite near adorable. peering at the mess in front of you, you take the cerulean blue mixing bowl from him. “you could’ve woke me up if you needed help, you know.”

“i know,” he grumbles, his voice softening a bit.

you pause—toji’s body language seems a bit different. it shifts. he looks a bit ashamed.

once toji turns off the stove, he deeply sighs. “i just wanted ‘ta learn how to cook for us— you know, like as a family. so when the baby’s here, i’ll uh- be prepared. don’t want ya to be doin’ everything, darlin’. y’er gonna be limited to do lots of stuff soon ‘n i jus’ wanna help out a bit more.”

with a smile, you stroke a thumb against your husband’s chin, right near his little scar. “awww,” and there’s an immediate embarrassed scowl stretching against his thin lips.

toji wanting to try more for you made your heart swarm up with a variety schools of butterflies. it flutters and flaps as he spoke. speaking in a soft tone, a thumb swipes a few remnants of flour near the crevices of his lip. “you’re sweet, toji. but i don’t want you stressing out over cooking. ‘s okay, besidessss we can always do it together.”

“eh,” his eye twitches at your smug growing grin. “that’s… not what i meant, mama.”

“don’t eh me. yeah it is, you want me to teach you how to cook like me,” you simper, planting a kiss against the back of his arm. “you wanna learn how to be a househusband?”

toji groans, turning to face you. verdant eyes leer at you for a long time—but he could never stay too vexed at you, you were so adorable, especially whenever you were this enthusiastic.

“that’s not the term i’d use for myself, but i guess,” and he wipes a few pounds of flour off his apron. “don’t worry ‘bout the mess. i’ll clean that up too.”

“i like this new toji.” you tease, leaning up close to press a wet kiss against his temple.

toji buries his hands in his pockets, staring off to the side and trying to ignore the incoming flush setting against his skin.

oh, you had him weak,

weak everywhere—weak in the knees.

he was feeling himself getting soft as the seconds pass. toji couldn’t lie, he was starting to like this new side of his too. he’d never in a million years admit it though. “baby please,” he grunts, switching the sink on to wash his hands. as the water screams out of the faucet, he lathers everywhere with soap before grumbling. “been watchin’ so many of those damn mom vlogs of cooking. was so annoying, wanted to pull my hair out.”

“you could have just asked me for help, silly,” and your arms securely wrap around his beefy body once more. toji’s frame was a lot more broad and built compared to you. he sucks his teeth, leaning into your touch before staring at the kitchen counter. “okay, good. you have all the ingredients . . eggs, flour, milk, umm sugar..”

and as your words continue and you observe his unkempt handiwork, toji clears his throat. “i gave up once the things kept stickin’ to the skillet.”

you let off a pretty laugh that makes his ears twitch. “welllll that’s probably because you didn’t add enough oil or butter to the pan,” and he watches as you grab a nearby stick of butter. you cut near the end part it with a butter knife before spreading it on the middle of the pan.

toji cutely stays quiet, staring intently and taking in everything you’re doing. he’s attentive, he doesn’t wanna miss anything because he’d soon be doing this for you and his soon-to-be baby.

after a few long seconds, you turn on the stove and it starts to sizzle again. “okay, so you mixed the batter, that’s good. now all you have to do is just pour a good amount into the pan and flip it once it’s a brownish color.”

“ehhhh.”

“toji, you wanted to cook so you’re gonna cook.”

“yes ma’am.” he sighs, his tone playful.

some minutes pass before you both finally finish making a fresh, scrumptious batch of pancakes. with your arms wrapped around him, you showed him all the steps slowly. you were patient with toji, helping him pour the batter and mix it. every time he messes up, you’d kiss the edge of his arm, reminding him that he can just try again. he calms down after a while, and you step away to watch him make a pancake of his own. he flips it over, and he has a sly grin—glancing back toward you, hoping you caught that. you did, giving him an encouraging smile before showering him with praise.

it was almost four am and toji was desperately trying to stay awake—you could tell he was struggling to keep his eyes open with how he’s swaying a bit. turning off the stove for the nth time, you set the steaming hot spatula aside before looking in toji’s direction. “we can always eat them when we wake up.”

“we?” he grumbles, combing a hand through his messy strands, giving it a solid scratch.

“yes, we,” and you wrap the heated pancakes with plastic wrap, tucking the undersides of the plate with the material before putting it in the microwave to preserve heat. you then grab onto toji’s hand. “we’re going back to bed.”

with a sigh, he knew he wasn’t gonna win this little spat. toji squeezes your hand back, yet before the two of you could go back into bed, he bends down.

raising your brow, toji gets on his knees before bringing a chaste kiss toward your tummy. “hey little one,” he whispers, rubbing a palm gingerly against the front of your stomach. dark, tired eyes meet yours and he bedaubs a thumb near your the print of your navel poking through your his oversized t-shirt. the cold, frigid texture of toji’s fingertips almost tickles. as he softly runs a finger down the center of your growing belly bump, a bit of flour gets against your clothes. “how are my girls? any cramps or pain i should know about?

girls,

the gender was still too early to determine but toji always pondered about how it might be a girl.

“n- no,” you breathe, moving a few raven strands of hair out of his face. everything felt different, it was as if you were walking with volumes of water stored within you. toji’s always been supportive during your pregnancy, he was trying. he stands up again before kissing the crown of your head. “you still think ‘s a girl?”

“kinda, yeah,” he utters, and a strong arm slings around your shoulders.

toji guides you to bed, not minding your cute slow waddle of a walk. “up we go, c’mon,” and he helps you up the steps, lowly chuckling into your neck at your adorable state. toji was always patient, the moment you finally reach the bed, he pulls down the fat cover so you could climb in. “…. thank you baby.”

“for what?” you slump against the cushioned sheets, slipping off your baby blue socks. toji crawls in beside you, leaning in to switch off the lamp. he still had a bit of flour on his face—and he spots you swiping some of it off with your thumb.

toji groans, acting as if the next incoming sentence was gonna kill him.

“for . . teachin’ me how ‘ta be a good househusband,” he pouts, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “i love you.”

“i love you too toji.”

“i love ya more,” and he lowers his neck to kiss the middle of your stomach. “oh, ‘n papa loves you also, little one. love my girls so much.”

[eddiesxangel]

Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think— "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

[dragonsholygrail]

It broke your heart to leash and put a muzzle on your Werewolf bf. But ultimately you really didn’t have any other option.

Not when he was growling and snarling at anyone who dare to look at you too long. Protecting his territory and constantly preparing to fight off any human who he thinks is planning to take you away from him.

Even now with a leash attached to his pretty collar and the muzzle fit snuggly on his face, he still pulls and tugs on the leash, growling lowly as other hybrids pass by on your daily walks around the park. But at least now you nor anyone else has to worry about things getting out of hand.

Or at least that’s what you think…

Your bf is silently stewing, practically seething at the fact that you’ve done this to him. His bad mood only increasing the amount of times he snarls at his competitors for your affection that pass you by.

His limitations only serve to remind him what you’ve done to him. And boy does it make him want revenge. To teach you who’s really the one in charge here as the desire to make you submit roars inside of him.

That feeling only grows as your walk continues and by the time the two of you have gotten back to your home, your bf is practically vibrating in his skin. The need to pounce on you and mount you pumps through his veins and electrifies the urge.

You gently take off the leash and the muzzle and he finally feels free. Your soft smile and sweet touch never leave his face as you hang them up. For a second his heart warms at your affection but the clank of metal rings in his ears and he’s reminded he’ll have to wear them again for your walk later.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” You ask lightly, leaning in and giving him a chaste kiss before turning around and heading to your room.

Your bf’s eyes follow you closely like a predator hunting their prey. He smirks wickedly and lifts the leash off the hook before following you, tail wagging in excitement thinking about how he’s gonna demolish that sweet pussy of yours.

“You deserve a treat for being such a good boy. Can get you some from the kitchen in a minute,” you call out as you flick on the bedroom lights, preparing to change into your pajamas for the night.

At your comment he freezes outside your door, vision flashing till all he sees is red. That was the final straw and before he can stop himself, your bf is swiftly jumping out to pounce on you.

You yelp as his body barrels into yours, pinning you to the bed before you can even blink. He chuckles darkly, claws digging into the flesh of your wrists to keep you still for him.

“A snack?! No, babygirl, imma take the whole meal. I think I’ve earned it after what you put me through.”

Your eyes widen as you realize where this is coming from. Your body squirms but he pushes his hips against yours and you whine as his cock nudges against your wet folds. His dominating presence turning you on more than you can admit.

“I-it was just a precaution, please,” you beg, though you don’t know what you’re begging for.

But as he takes out the leash he was holding and starts tying it around your wrists, binding them to the bedpost, you know. You’re begging for more.

“Yeah, well I can’t have you squirmin’ ‘round on me. So this is just a precaution,” he mocks with a dangerous smile that has his fangs glittering in the sunlight.

With a harsh tug your bf exposes your messy folds. He runs his fingers down your soaked slit and you cry out, hips jerking up to meet his teasing touch.

“Ahhh, it seems like you’ve been lying to me. You like it when I’m like this. It gets you all hot and wet— fucking hell you’re dripping all over my hand, love.” A rumble moves through his chest as he sees just how desperate you are for him.

Not waiting a moment more he removes his pulsing cock from its sheath and slams himself inside you in the blink of an eye. You moan loudly, body bucking at the sudden intrusion. But the leash and his hands keep you tied down as he pounds his length deep inside your pussy.

Whimpers leave you as you’re left defenseless against his attack, his brutal pace jolting your body with each thrust with no way to add to the pleasure he forces onto you. No matter how much you try and squirm it’s no use. You can’t reach him.

“Oh fuck, please. Take the leash off. Let me touch you, please, let me touch you!”

You let out a strangled whine as he starts aiming for the soft spot along your walls. Your bf shushes you gently, a clawed hand moving to hold your neck in a firm grip.

“Sh, sh, sh. No talking. Wouldn’t want me to get the muzzle now,” he rasps as he quickens his pace, leaving you mewling as your back arches unnaturally.

He goes on for what feels like forever. Bringing you to climax over and over again. Only allowing short sounds of pleasure to leave your lips. His grip on your neck squeezing every time you talk until you cum on his cock and it all starts over.

By the time you’re done and he gently removes the leash from your wrists, your body is nothing but a limp bag of bones. Yet you still have the strength to immediately cling onto your bf, keeping him close as he whispers praises in your ear about how good you did for him and how he can’t wait for your next walk so you can do this again.

[starkwlkr]

Can I request some hung with old man Logan? Something domestic or soemthing like reader baking for him. I love reading fics of Logan and reader being an old married couple

just the two of us | old man logan

an: anon ily for this request old man Logan needs more love <3 credit to pinterest for the gif btw this doesn’t follow the logan storyline so i added laura hope that’s ok!! sorry if there’s an spelling mistakes!

reader and logan live in a nice little cozy home because i said so 😍

“Taste.” You held the wooden spoon up to your husband’s mouth. Logan sighed, he knew you weren’t going to let him walk away without tasting the brownie batter so he licked the spoon.

For a while you had been craving brownies. While Logan was out working, you and Laura drove to the city to pick up the ingredients to make brownies. It was a fun small girls trip until it was time to come back home. Laura had helped you mix everything together until she got tired, she then decided to go up to her room to watch cartoons. You continued working on the brownies by yourself, that’s when Logan had arrived from work and now here you were giving him a taste test.

“So?” You waited for an answer.

“Bub, you are the best baker in this whole town, city, state, planet.” Logan was going to dip his finger in the batter until you slapped it away.

“No! You’re going to wait like the rest of us, but I did tell Laura she could have the first brownie so just wait.” You told him.

Logan groaned and walked to the kitchen sink and washed his hands. “How was your day?”

Logan always asked about you day. It didn’t matter if you stayed home and read a book or did some gardening, he wanted to know.

“Good. Laura and I read a new book, we went to buy ingredients to make brownies and now my old man is home so I’d say it’s been a pretty good day.” You started to pour the brownie batter into a pan.

He didn’t mind you calling him old man, in fact, he loved it. Yeah, he wasn’t as young as he used to be, but you still loved him. You did admit to him many times that the grey hair was a turn on for you, which made him laugh.

Before you could react, Logan quickly dipped his finger in the batter and licked it clean.

“James! Don’t you dare do it again!” You scolded him. “These are for Laura too.”

“Come on, Laura’s not going to know that I ate some batter,” Logan leaned on the counter next to you. “I’ve been thinking. .”

“Oh no, that’s concerning.” You teased, finishing up with the brownies and putting them in the oven. You turned to face him then wrap your arms around him, bring him closer to you.

Logan chuckled at your response. “I’ve been thinking about taking you and Laura to some place nice. We can do that family shit you always talk about.”

You laugh at his choice of words. “Family shit, yeah that’s what I said.”

“Tomorrow then, I’ll drive us to the nicest place you’ve ever seen, get some ice cream, watch a movie, whatever you want.” Logan leaned in closer, you doing the same.

Before your lips could touch, Laura interrupted you asking about the brownies.

“Not yet, my love, I just put them in. I’ll call you when they’re done,” You pulled away making Logan groan. Laura nodded then ran up to her room. You noticed the frown on his face so you quickly gave him his after work kiss. “Don’t be so sad, old man, the neighbor’s kid wants to have a sleepover with Laura this weekend so it’ll just be the two of us.” Logan definitely liked the sound of that.

Half an hour later, the brownies were ready. Laura took several with her to her room while you and Logan took a plate outside to the patio where your porch swing was. It was a beautiful evening, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, and now you were ending the night beside your husband eating some homemade brownies.

“I think Laura is going to ask you for a dog.” You mention, scooting closer to Logan and laying your head on his chest. You held a brownie up to him so he could take a bite.

“No, we are not getting a dog.” He said.

“It would be nice, you know . . .” You bit the brownie after Logan.

“Is this why you made brownies? You want me to get you and Laura a dog?” He looked down at you.

“No, but can you?”

He sighed defeatedly. “I’ll think about it.”

[smileysuh]

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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[alltheirdamn]

My Kink is Karma | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend breaks up with you, so you decide to get revenge... Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 3k Warnings: no-outbreak AU, undefined age gap (pick your poison), teasing, revenge sex, unprotected piv sex, size!kink, daddy!kink, joel folds you like a pretzel, filthy language, pet names (sweetheart, daddy, good girl, etc.), orgasm, creampie, a touch of cuckholding i guess??, slight voyurism, heavy kissing, language... is that it? A/N: Y'all already know I get influenced all too easily when it comes to music... anyway, the song inspo is, of course, My Kink Is Karma

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Stupid. So fucking stupid. 

Two years together, and he decides to break up with you? Granted, things were already on a downward slope, but over text? Seriously. Fucking asshole. You were cramming his shit into an all too-small cardboard box, huffing a slew of obscenities. Old t-shirts, bullshit birthday cards, photos… you didn’t want a single one. You should burn them all, but you wanted him hurt. You wanted him to stare at those memories and regret it all. 

Pulling up to his house—well, his dad’s house since he was a deadbeat without a place to stay—you hauled the box into both hands and staggered up the porch. You had put on what you considered your ‘revenge dress’: a flowy sundress that barely covered your ass. Yeah, I hope you regret this, you thought to yourself. Princess Diana would be looking down at you proud as fuck. 

Hoisting the box on your hip, you pounded on the front door, a scowl on your face. Jesus, the box was heavy as you balanced it in one arm. The door wrenched open, and you were ready to toss angry words in his face. 

His father, Joel, stood in the doorway, and you were quick to bite your tongue. Soft, brown eyes nestled under thick eyebrows gazed down at you. His lips twitched into a cautious smile, the plush pout covered by a dark mustache. Joel’s frame practically filled the doorway, and damn, was he always this attractive? 

“This is a surprise,” he stated. “Whatcha doin’ with all that stuff?”

You shoved it into his chest, your arms tired from holding its weight. 

“Your piece of shit son broke up with me,” you grumbled. 

Joel wrapped thick fingers around the edge of the box, his eyebrows furrowing together. Guess his son didn’t fill him in on his latest fuck up. Real shocker. 

“M’sorry to hear that. Y’wanna come in for a minute? I’ll get you some iced tea to cool down.”

“I don’t wanna impose on you. I figure I’m probably not welcomed here anymore.”

“You’re more than welcome here,” Joel argued. You didn’t miss how his eyes fluttered over your body, catching sight of your dress blowing upward in the breeze. 

Ohh…

“If you insist,” you said.

Joel nodded toward the doorway, letting you walk in first. He discarded the box by the front door and led the way to the kitchen. You kept yourself fixated on how his back flexed under his flannel, the muscles in his shoulders stretching across the fabric. If only his son had been this hot, maybe you would’ve had sex more often. 

You propped yourself on the kitchen barstool, swinging your legs beneath you as you watched Joel pour you a glass of sweet tea—typical Southern gentleman. After pouring himself a glass, Joel leaned against the counter, his muscular forearms braced against the edge. 

“So…” He drawled. “Y’been alright since the break-up?”

You rolled your eyes, bringing the glass to your lips. Joel’s dark eyes tracked the movement of your lips around the rim, and you rewarded him with a coy smile. It was enough to make him clear his throat and readjust his stance behind the coverage of the counter. 

“Oh, I’m great,” you smiled, licking your top teeth. “It’s always fun when your boyfriend breaks up with you over text. He didn’t even have the balls to do it in person.”

“He ain’t the brightest,” Joel commented. 

“No, he definitely isn’t.” 

Joel quirked a grin, and you quickly realized you were talking to your ex’s dad; you should hold back a bit. “Shit, sorry. That’s not nice of me.”

He shook his head, tipping his glass to his lips. Now, it was your turn to obsess over his mouth and how his plush bottom lip curved around the rim as he gulped down the liquid. You pressed your thighs together, attempting to quell the throbbing ache between your legs. 

“No need to be sorry,” Joel said. “You’re too sweet of a girl for a man like him.”

“Calling him a ‘man’ is generous of you,” you laughed sarcastically. “Barely got a few inches on him to call himself that.”

“No need to kick him while he’s down, sweetheart.”

“Respectfully, Mr. Miller, fuck him. I deserved better,” you argued. 

Joel’s jaw clenched, and you could almost see the wheels turn in his head. Stepping away from the counter, he strode to where you sat, towering over you with a flicker of lust behind his chocolate eyes. The lace thong barely covering your sex was already drenched just from the way he looked at you.

“What you’re sayin’ is that you deserve a real man,” he offered. 

You parted your legs just a few inches, but it was enough of an invitation for Joel to step forward and crowd your body. With his knee pressed to the apex of your sex and his hand braced against the back of your chair, you had nowhere to go. The thrill of it all was electrifying your veins. 

“I think I do,” you said defiantly. 

“Would that make y’feel better, sweetheart? Fuckin’ a real man?” He asked, his fingers twirling in your hair that hung over your shoulder. 

“God, yes,” you whined, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning at his words. 

Joel leaned forward, a breath away from your lips. Were you seriously about to do this? Hell, it was too late now to even think twice. You wanted revenge, and here was the perfect opportunity. You craned your neck higher, waiting for him to close the gap. Joel only gave you a pitying smile, the silver strands in his beard glittering in the kitchen sunlight. 

“Naugty lil’ thing,” he taunted, grinning wide.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond. Joel crushed his lips to yours, his tongue prodding your mouth open wider. The moan you had been holding back slipped out at the same time he sank his teeth into your bottom lip. You reached up to tug at the soft curls atop his head, your nails scratching against his scalp. Joel groaned into your open mouth, his hand coming down to grip your bare thigh. 

“Gonna let your ex-boyfriend’s daddy fuck you, sweetheart? Gonna let me show y’what a real man is like?” Joel panted. 

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, the word slipping right off your tongue.

You pulled away embarrassed, your lips swollen and wet and your face burning a bright red. Joel didn’t seem phased at all by your little slip-up. In fact, he looked at you with even more hunger than before. Pupils blown wide and a smile brighter than the sun, you were so in over your head. Whatever he was promising, you knew you’d be in for a treat. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, y’can’t be callin’ me that and expect me to go easy on you,” Joel said. 

“Then don’t go easy,” you insisted. “Show me what I’ve been missing out on, Daddy.”

Joel practically lost it as you repeated the word, his arms coming around your back to haul you up and out of the chair. You quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking your heels together, and let him drag you away from the kitchen and into the living room. 

Your back hit the couch in seconds, the sundress on your body billowing onto the cushions. Joel hunched over your sprawled body, sucking marks down the column of your neck. Everything in your body hummed with pleasure, the growing need inside your stomach building. 

Joel dipped a hand under your dress, his fingers brushing up the lacy thong that stuck to your skin with arousal. You preened into his touch, lifting your hips to seek any sort of relief from the tension twisting inside your core.

“Damn, sweetheart,” Joel exhaled. “Y’already this wet for me? Fuckin’ soakin’ my hand, and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Mhmm,” you whispered, rolling your hips against his fingertips.

Joel pinched your lace-covered clit between his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud softly until you cried out. Your hands clung to his forearms, digging into the bulging veins hidden under the fabric of his button-up. God, revenge would taste so fucking sweet.

“S’alright,” he cooed. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”

It shocked you how fast Joel managed to yank your underwear off, tossing it halfway across the room before working at undoing his belt. Your eyes nearly fell out of your head when you saw his cock spring free from his boxers. His son was definitely not packing this kind of heat, and your sex clenched around nothing as the anticipation flowed through your veins. The shocked silence and wide-eyed stare you wore garnered a laugh from Joel.

“We’ll make it fit, sweetheart. You’re gonna take every inch of me like a good girl, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” you nodded, biting your lip.

Propping one leg on the couch, Joel gripped the back of your thighs and pinned them at either side of your head, nearly folding you in half. 

“Keep ‘em right here, y’understand?” 

You muttered a quick yes, settling your fingers around the backs of your knees. Joel gave his cock a few lazy strokes before lining the weeping head of it at your entrance. Brushing the tip through your silky folds, he pushed in an inch, grunting as you cried at the intrusion. Fuck, it hurt. 

“Tightest pussy I ever felt, sweetheart,” he groaned, sinking in another inch. 

The stretch of his cock inside you was unbearable, every part of him rubbing against your walls until you were filled completely. The moment Joel bottomed out, you lost all capacity to breathe correctly, your voice coming out in small whimpers and cries. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Just suckin’ me right in. God damn, y’feel like Heaven.”

“It’s so big, Daddy,” you moaned. 

“Takin’ it so well for me, sweetheart. Y’ready for more?”

You bobbed your head, your eyes falling to see where your bodies connected. The hair around Joel’s cock brushed over your swollen lips with each shallow thrust, his hips colliding with yours in a steady rhythm as you adjusted to his size.

“My son ever fuck you like this?” He growled. 

“No,” you exhaled shakily. 

“Didn’t think so.”

Then he was ramming into you…hard. Your sweaty fingers slipped off your legs, but Joel was quick to replace them with his own hands, molding you into the couch as he took you rough and fast. The room fell apart around you, leaving you crying out every time his cock shoved deeper inside you. You swore you felt him in your stomach, the thick girth of his cock stretching you beyond measure. 

“Fuckin’ take it, sweetheart,” he choked out. “Keep takin’ daddy’s cock. Lookin’ so pretty folded up under me.”

“Yes! Yes!” You shouted.

The weight of your breasts bounced with each onslaught of thrusts, your chest heaving for air as he stole it from you over and over again. Even with your ears muffled by your legs, the sound of your sex suctioning around his cock was unmistakable. Reaching between your bodies, you pressed your fingers against your clit, blindly searching for release as it trembled through your muscles. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” Joel teased, glancing up at you.

He pinned you with a violent stare, his lips twisted up in a smirk, and a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead. Christ, you were a fucking whore for this, but you loved it. You couldn’t give a damn about your ex when his dad was balls deep inside you. 

“Daddy, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

Your fingers were working twice as fast now, chasing that inescapable bloom of pleasure unwinding inside your core. You pulsated around his cock, sucking him in further as his thrusts grew ragged and out of sync. 

“Yeah, you are. Can feel this pretty pussy milkin’ my cock already.”

“Harder, Daddy. Need—fuck—need you deeper inside me.”

Joel tensed at your words, his movements slowing down—the exact opposite of what you begged for. He tilted his head over you, studying how your eyes welled with tears, and your lips trembled.

“Daddyyy,” you pleaded. 

He bent down over your body, his weight crushing into yours and plunging his dick as far as your core would let him. You cried out as he molded his mouth to yours, swallowing down every noise you tried to make. From this angle, you could feel Joel everywhere. The bruising hold of his fingers around your legs, the twitch of his cock against your cervix, the heat of his tongue intertwining over yours. 

Why hadn’t you considered dating older men from the start? This was ecstasy. 

Joel rocked his hips into you in a slow rhythm, the urgency having left his body and replaced now by determined movements only to bring you closer to the brink of release. You lapped at Joel’s tongue, sloppy wet sounds from your mouth mixing with the lewd noises of your bodies slapping together. 

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” You cried, the sound muffled against Joel’s lips. He buried his head into your neck, his teeth bearing down on your scorching skin. The precipice of release was at your fingertips, and you were toppling over. 

“That’s it,” Joel crooned. “Cum all over daddy’s cock. Wanna feel you chokin’ it when you come undone.”

Stars shot across the back of your eyelids, your orgasm ready to barrel through you. You heaved in a breath, anticipating the spiral ready to unfurl inside you when the sound of the front door opening paralyzed you. 

“Dad?” A voice called out.

Joel whipped his head toward the hallway, his cock throbbing inside you. You pinched his chin, dragging his face to meet your eyes. 

“Keep fucking me,” you demanded. “Let me be your good girl, Daddy.”

Joel’s lip parted, a protest on the tip of his tongue. You wordlessly shook your head, lifting your hips to meet his in a silent plea for more. This was the moment. This was your chance at revenge.

“S’gonna get me in trouble, sweetheart,” Joel hissed, assaulting you with another series of quick thrusts. 

You arched upward, your mouth brushing against his ear.

“I wanna cum for you,” you whispered. “Let’s show your son what it looks like to make a girl really orgasm.” 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned.

You anchored Joel to your chest; your legs pressed into his shoulders as he drove his hips against yours over…and over… In the distance, you could hear your ex-boyfriend call out for Joel again, a hint of suspicion in his voice. Let him fucking listen to you; let him see what his dad was doing to you. You clawed at Joel’s back, your nails tearing into his shirt as your orgasm vibrated in your muscles. Right as the spark of adrenaline hit your veins, your ex came into view in the doorway, his eyes wide with horror. 

“Yes, Daddy!” You pleaded.

Everything inside you tensed up, your sex gripping around Joel’s cock until his movements strained above you. Joel groaned in your ear, your name falling off his tongue in choked syllables as he painted your insides with his release. As he slumped against your body, you peered up at your ex, a satisfied grin on your face. 

“What the fuck?” He seethed, standing motionless just feet away. 

“Your shit’s by the door!” You shouted at him. “Why don’t you take it upstairs? Your daddy and I are busy.”

Joel loosed a breath, chuckling softly in your neck. 

“You’re mean for that, sweetheart,” he mumbled. 

“Fucking your son’s ex-girlfriend seems a whole lot worse,” you whispered back, keeping your voice low enough for only him to hear. 

Peeking back over the back of the couch, you noticed the doorway empty, all signs of your ex gone from view. You tapped Joel’s shoulder lightly, urging him to unwind your limbs from above your head. You ached all over but in the best fucking way possible. Straightening his spine, Joel lowered your legs down and slowly pulled out of you. The warmth of his seed leaking from your entrance was a welcomed reminder of what you had done. Revenge tasted sweet but felt so much sweeter. 

You groaned as you stretched your legs, staring up at Joel with a wide smile. Despite the wreckage you caused, Joel smiled right back, and his eyes shifted from your red face down to your dripping sex. You squeezed your legs together, swinging them over the edge of the couch. 

“Shit,” you muttered. “Where the hell did you toss my underwear?”

“M’sure they’re ‘round here somewhere,” Joel shrugged, tucking his cock back into his jeans. 

“Well, if you find them, you can keep them.” 

Joel extended a hand, insisting on helping you to your feet, which you appreciated since your legs felt like jelly. Heavy footsteps shook the roof above you, no doubt from your ex, as he stormed through the house. You giggled at the thought, knowing you had just given him the best taste of karma. You glanced at Joel, seeing his wild curls sticking up at odd angles. 

“I should probably get going.”

“Leavin’ me with a whole lotta mess, sweetheart,” he huffed. 

You leaned into his solid frame, kissing his lips quickly. 

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” you smirked. “It’s him you might need to worry about.”

Joel swatted your ass, urging you out of the living room and toward the front door. You gave him a quick flutter of your fingers and said goodbye before skipping down the porch steps with his cum dripping down your inner thighs.

[sooniebby]

,,,,, reader (ftm) is Megumi's babysitter n when DILF Toji comes back he rails the reader (Megumi is asleep upstairs so he doesn't hear anything lmao),,,, yes i know this is one of THE cheesiest porn plots ever but I love it sm

ఌ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

꧁ 𝙏𝙤𝙟𝙞 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 6.4k

Warnings › a broke man and a nasty ass house.Also age gap.. reader is around 20. Reader is trans masc. I went too far guys omfg… the plot took over. Slow-ish slow burn.. they kinda start fucking randomly.. also mamaguro didn’t die until Megumi was 6.

Kinks › use of pussy/cunt/feminine terms, breeding, manhandling, degradation, size kink. Reader is called housewife. Mention of getting pregnant.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“What… the fuck..?”

You were shocked. Baffled. Bewildered. What the fuck was this mess?! You weren’t even inside the house and could see what looked to be ants having a conga line as they stole crumbs off the floor.

The kid you were set to babysit didn’t look bothered by the mess. Megumi..? Was it?

Megumi hummed, noticing your shocked stare at the mess he was forced to call a home. “It’s… it’s not too bad if you ignore the kitchen.”

“Where’s…?” You whispered, slowly walking into the house. You didn’t even want to take off your shoes but it seemed Megumi was wearing his shoes.. so you kept yours on.

“He went to work.” Was all Megumi said as he shuffled over to the small living room. He plopped down onto the couch and began watching tv. You gently placed your bag down on the floor in the only clean-ish area of the house. Just.. how can it get this bad? Was he never home?

“Uhm.. well… I’m guessing you’re Megumi?” You asked, walking over to the couch. Megumi gave you a hum as he began shifting through channels with a remote that looked as if it was one press from combusting. As you sat down, Megumi quickly spoke.

“No! Not that—”

Crack!

You blinked in perplexity as you weren’t sitting on a comfy cushion of a couch. No.. you were sitting through the couch, your ass practically touching the floor. You grunted, your legs flailing as you tried to get out of this death trap masquerading as a couch.

“What… the… fawk?!” You screamed, already wishing you didn’t accept this gig.

“Dad broke that side of the couch.. he hasn’t replaced it yet.” Megumi muttered, getting up as he grabbed your hand and began pulling.

He was only around ten the most… there wasn’t much strength to his pulls. It took an embarrassingly long time until you finally got out. If Megumi wasn’t going to be alone in this devil trap, you would’ve ran out screaming. But you quickly took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“Usually.. they all leave around this time.” Megumi whispered, seemingly waiting for you to just bolt out the door. “Can you… at least stay until I go to bed, Mister…?”

He looked up at you. The usual cute little kid puppy eyes and pouted lip. You sighed and simply nodded. It wasn’t the kid’s fault he had a lazy man as a father. You briefly wondered where the mother was but didn’t think it was right to ask Megumi such a question.

Instead… you glanced over at the clock.

9:30 a.m.

Okay.. the father should come home at around 6 p.m.? The latest? So you could stay for this kid. Might as well, you travelled a bit far. Because surprisingly, the pay was pretty good. But now you wondered if you weren’t getting any of that money when you glanced at the state of the home.

“Well. Have you eaten?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you eat?”

“….cookies.”

You groaned. You stormed over to the mess of a kitchen and began opening the cabinets to find nothing! You opened the pantry—zilch! You opened the fridge with a look of despair—nada!

You would’ve screamed and cried if you didn’t want to embarrass yourself more in front of a kid ten years younger than you. With a grunt, you looked back at Megumi who looked unconcerned with his poor excuse of a kitchen.

“Let’s go to the grocery store….” You muttered through your teeth. You were glad Megumi was already dressed. But it was confusing.. his clothes looked decent. Did the dad spend all money on Megumi’s clothes?

10:10 a.m.

You fucking hated the city! All this damn traffic. And you almost lost Megumi!! The two of you were now in the grocery store, you hand gripped tightly around Megumi’s as you stomped around with a look of anger. Your lips in a permanent snarl while your eyebrows furrowed.

This wasn’t even your kid but it certainly felt like it!

Megumi, despite a bit confused on why you seemed so worked up, had a small smile on his face. It was.. normal to just grocery shop—even if it was with a man he didn’t even know well.

Once you began to check out, you almost cried at the price. You slowly handed your credit card to the clerk, your grip tight as she had to wrestle it out of your hand. Silent tears streamed down your face as you spent money on someone who’s not even your kid..

Gosh.. why’d you have to care so much, (Name)?!

“What does your dad even do?” You asked as you two sat on the train back to Megumi’s house. The train was empty—the only two souls being you and Megumi. And this random guy towards the end but he doesn’t matter.

Megumi hummed, lost in thought. “Dunno.”

You groaned. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. You were just going to take care of this kid today and never come back. As you began checking your phone, the soft weight of someone resting on your arm jolted you. You glanced down and saw Megumi snuggled up against you, already deep in sleep.

Fuck…

Curse kids being cute.

11:50 a.m.

The sounds of harsh scrubbing filled the Fushiguro household. Clinking pots and sounds of labored breathing were one. Megumi was on the couch, the safe side, eating an omelette you made for him. It was an actual healthy meal—filled with protein and fiber. But you…

You were on your knees scrubbing what looked to be weeks old spill of pasta. Or.. something. It was red and smelled a bit. But you weren’t quite sure. As you scrubbed the spot away—you glanced around the kitchen with a frown. The only thing cleaned up.. was the sink and now the floor.

Everything else was still dirty.

So, for the next few hours, you began cleaning. Maybe it was for Megumi.. you felt terrible that he had to live in such a dirty home. Perhaps you saw yourself in him—being forced to live in a house that your parents didn’t care to make it feel like a home.

“Mister (Name), can we go to the park later?” Megumi suddenly asked. You glanced behind yourself to see him holding his now empty plate as he dropped it in the sink.

“Sure. Will your dad be okay with it?”

Megumi shrugged. “Maybe.” He walked away after that.

This kid didn’t seem to care that much on his father opinion. But you were just a babysitter, not some type of disciplinary parent. The smell of the fumes from the cleaning sprays was getting to you, so you grabbed a random candle and lit it.

The candle looked to be a lavender one. It’s case still brand new. Compared to most things in this house.. it looked taken care of. The smooth container was soft against your skin as you placed it on the newly cleaned kitchen counter. It smelled nice.

It was a lavender candle. You couldn’t go wrong with lavender.

“You lit it?” Megumi suddenly whispered, his eyes turned over to you.

You hummed. “Yeah. Is.. this not for lighting?” You muttered, realizing you should’ve asked first.

“No.. it’s fine. I doubt he even remembered it was there,” he muttered, his voice a bit angry before he turned his body back to the tv.

You wanted to ask.. why he wouldn’t remember it. But you thought back to the missing mother. Oh. Was this hers? You felt awful lighting it now. So grabbing the covering, you covered the candle, letting the flame die out. As you watched the light go out—it felt worst letting it die than letting it burn.

“Megumi, I’m going to check out the bedrooms, okay?”

“Ok.”

You walked up the stairs and opened the first door you saw.

The bigger bedroom.. wasn’t the father’s. It was Megumi’s. And it was perfect. A nice citrus smell filled the room from the fragrance plugs. A nicely painted blue colored walls. Toys packed neatly and a bed that looked cared for.

Even the floor was cleaned. It squeaked beneath your shoes.. you quickly took them off. As you left the room, closing the door with a soft smile on your lips, you walked to the spare bedroom. Opening the door, the bedroom was small. More like an office.

But it certainly was more fit for the child—not the father. You wondered why he gave Megumi the bigger room but it made sense in that, perhaps he just wanted to give Megumi more space. The room was dirty, just like the rest of the house. Wrappers crinkled beneath your feet as you shuffled around, trying to see what was in the room.

When you turned on the light.. you noticed that this was also Megumi’s space. The wrappers were candy and there was more toys all over this room. But it didn’t make any sense. This was a two bedroom home..? Or.. you thought about the room downstairs that was locked when you were searching for cleaning supplies.

Ah, that must’ve been the true master bedroom.

You cleaned the spare bedroom and noticed that it was more like an office. You checked the closet and saw dresses, skirts, and heels. It was obviously the mom’s—but they haven’t been worn in awhile.

You closed the door, deciding you shouldn’t snoop too much in this family’s business. You whispered a quick soft apology for disbursing the room obviously left to the mother and walked out.

Downstairs, Megumi was still watching tv but he quickly stood up at the sight of you. He smiled a bit and sprinted over to you.

“Why’d you let it stop? You can burn it.” He said, pointing to the candle.

You glanced over at it. “I… I don’t know. Your father had it hidden between the cleaning supplies… I only found it by accident.”

“Please… I..” Megumi sighed. “I miss her smell.”

You felt guilty… but as there was no father to object, you started the candle once more. Megumi was considerably happy as he jumped back onto the couch and payed attention to the tv.

The gnawing feeling of guilt hurled in your guts but you pushed it back. The house still had spots to clean. Keeping yourself busy with that—you cleaned the living room and the front area of the home.

Lavender filled your nose as you moved about. It was comforting, swirling around as if it was livening up each corner of the home. Megumi was happy.

5:50 p.m.

Okay. Time for dinner. You felt a bit embarrassed forgetting to give Megumi lunch but he didn’t seem to mind. Probably has to do with the amount of snacks he was eating while you cleaned. You made the easiest thing ever, chicken Katsu curry. As you gave Megumi his portion, you noticed there was enough for at least two more people. So you placed them in the fridge. Despite having a bit of a grudge against the dad..

It wouldn’t hurt to leave him dinner.

It only took a near hour before Megumi was reminding you about the park. Your body was sore though, from slaving away in cleaning this damn house. And it was a job well done.. no more ants conga lining or the nasty smell of what could be assumed as blood.

“Okay, okay… Only for an hour the most—I don’t know if your dad will be okay with it.” You said, smiling softly.

9:00 p.m.

Okay, so it wasn’t an hour.. nearly four! But it was hard. Megumi was having so fun swinging and then you guys started playing tag.. and then hide and seek. And then—

Okay, you don’t have a backbone when it comes to cute kids.

You hummed softly as you walked back home—Fushiguro’s home! Megumi was in your arms, face nuzzled into your neck as he slept away. The sun was already down by now, the only light was the street lights shining down on you.

Even if the dad didn’t pay you much.. you would come back, just for Megumi. As you trudged up the slight hill to the house, you wondered how parents who carried their child did it so often. It felt like a workout.

Once you reached the house, you stopped in your tracks.

There was man standing at the door.

He was tall, certainly taller than you. Dressed in a long black t-shirt with baggy tan pants. You stepped back ready to start running when a gust of wind caused you to shriek.

The man was right in front of you. His eyes bore down on you with a look of pure bloodlust before his eyes flickered to the body in your arms. He calmed down, noting.. Megumi was in your arms.

So you must’ve been the babysitter. Huh, he never expected a man.

Well, he certainly scared you off with how he just acted.

“I,” his voice was deep. “I lost my keys.”

You blinked. Anger. Frustration.

“What the fuck?!” You screamed.

The man backed away a bit, raising his hand up in confusion. He obviously looked confused at your sudden burst of anger… did it anger you that much that he lost his keys?

You pulled out the spare keys you had in your pocket and opened the front door, storming inside with the dad right behind you.

“Put him to bed!” You yelled, pointing at Megumi.

He took Megumi from your arms and went upstairs. You took that as your chance to grab your bag. Well, you did what Megumi wanted, stayed until he fell asleep.

Just as you were about to leave, the dad was downstairs already. Okay, that wasn’t possible or normal but you didn’t know if you were just sleep deprived.

“The trains are closed for the night. Are you going to walk home?” He asked.

“Maybe! Why do you care?”

“It’s not safe.”

“It’s not safe to leave trash all over the house.”

He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow, as if waiting to see if you’d continue with your disrespect. But you pursed your lips shut. Yeah, it wasn’t safe going home this late. Especially when you lived so far away from here.

“Fine. I cleaned the spare bedroom anyway, it’ll be fine to sleep in.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. That room is off limits.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. The couch will do.” You whispered, storming over to the couch. But of course… you forgot which side was the broken one.

And once again, you were stuck in the broken couch. You didn’t even flail this time. Only a whine of disappointment as you decided to accept your faith. The dad was busy doing something as he didn’t come over to you until you heard the microwave turn on.

“That side is broken.”

“I noticed.” You grunted.

The man grabbed your arm and easily pulled you out, causing you to shriek.

“You shriek a lot.. are you a mouse?”

“A mouse?!”

“You’re so loud, mouse.”

“It’s (Name), oaf!”

“Toji.”

You rolled your eyes and moved to go sit down but his grip on your arm didn’t waiver. It wasn’t like he was putting much force into it, it was a light easy grip. But it still held you in place.

He leaned down a bit, his nose sniffing you. You gagged at him being so close but could only pull away a bit from him.

“You stink.” He simply stated.

“Stink?!” You screeched. “I busted my ass cleaning your dirty house for Megumi!”

“Huh? I didn’t hire you as a maid. You’re Megumi’s babysitter.”

“Well,” you muttered, trying to explain yourself. “It’s.. not good for Megumi to live in such a dirty space. Kids get sick easily!”

Which was technically true.

Toji hummed. “Okay, Housewife—you still stink.”

“Housewife—?!”

“—so go bathe before going to bed.”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“I’ll give you something.”

With that, Toji walked away to the kitchen and grabbed the plate of microwaved curry. You glared at him but walked over to the bathroom.

It was recently cleaned as the acidic scent attacked your nostrils. You started the bath, letting it fill in as you got undressed. Toji was right though—you certainly didn’t smell as nice as you did when you first got here.

“Hey, Housewife.”

You screamed out, covering your chest as the bathroom door opened. Toji kept his eyes closed as he tossed a towel inside.

“Stop screaming, you’ll wake up Megumi.”

The door closed after that. Your face was flushed red as your lips curled into a pout. Shit. You were so loud. You stopped the water and got inside, ready to just take a long relaxing bath.

9:50 p.m.

You hummed, feeling yourself being wrapped in a nice fluffy blanket. You only giggled, snuggling into the warm embrace. Strong arms held you up and suddenly you were moving.

It felt so nice being cuddled by warmth, especially after that cold bath. But you didn’t know why the bath was cold. It was hot when you started it.

You shook awake when you felt your body drop onto a bed. Toji had carried you from the bathtub. You quickly fixed your towel to make sure you were properly covered as you watched him walk to his closet.

“Be careful next time, Housewife. You were about to drown if I didn’t check on you.”

“Huh? Drown? And it’s (Name)! I’m a guy, damn it!”

“Your head was underwater.”

“Oh.. how long was I in there?”

“Almost an hour.”

You shivered. Well, thank god you didn’t even attempt to walk home. You would’ve passed out mid walk. Toji looked busy, moving clothes around in his closet as he hyper focused on them.

“Here.”

You flinched as a large t-shirt was thrown at your face. It was a black one that would certainly cover your body fully. But.. there was no underwear. You took the chance to slip the shirt on when Toji’s back was still facing you.

The t-shirt practically engulfed you, way too big for your body. As you examined the big shirt, Toji closed the closet door. You glanced up when you felt his eyes on you.

“You can watch Megumi for another day, yeah?”

“Wha? Why?”

“I got another job.” Was all he said as he left the bedroom.

With a grunt you shot out of bed and followed after. You watched as he slipped back into his shoes and was standing by the front door, ready to just leave! Who does that?

“Hey!” You yelled, before quickly quieting down when you remembered Megumi was asleep. “What type of job do you have to be leaving so late?!”

“You’re the babysitter.. Focus on Megumi. I’ll pay you extra.”

“The pay doesn’t matter, asshole! Megumi needs a parent that is actually here. It’s better for him,” you said, stomping over to Toji.

You opened your mouth to speak once more but was muffled when Toji grabbed your face. He stared down at you, a look of disinterest on his face. You could feel his eyes just taking you in, looking at your features. Your lips, eyes, nose.

His hand was so large against your face, so easily holding your jaw still and squishing your chubby cheeks. Your lips were pursed together as you tried to make a sound. He leaned down towards you, his lips right near your ears as he whispered to you.

“You should be careful when moving your arms up so high, especially without underwear.” Was all he said before leaving.

The door slammed shut when you finally realized what he meant. Your face flushed red in embarrassment. Fuck!

This guy…

12:30 p.m.

It was the next day and no sign of Mister Fushiguro “Toji”. You stabbed angrily at your salad. Megumi was unfazed but certainly happy that you hadn’t left last night. You had to stay in Toji’s shirt and just grab the smallest pants there.

Still no underwear.

Even the smallest pants kept falling a bit if you didn’t hold it while walking. You had pulled up the shirt and used a rubber band to tighten it so it wasn’t knee length anymore.

If Megumi noticed you were wearing his father’s clothes, he didn’t say anything.

“What time does your dad get home?”

Megumi hummed. “Dunno. Depends.”

“On what?”

Megumi seemed to hesitate so you didn’t push it.

Didn’t matter, as soon as Toji got home, you’d give him a piece of your mind.

11:20 p.m.

The door opened. You were right there in front of it, ready to yell when you froze. Toji had a gash on his arm, bleeding all onto the floor. But he didn’t seem fazed by it. On the contrary, it was as if it was another Tuesday to him. Your lips parted, only sounds that could out being a soft ‘huh?’

Toji looked at you, seeming to be a bit shocked you were still there. His eyes flickered down.

“You love flashing me, huh?”

You blinked in confusion and looked down to see the pants pooling around your legs. For fuck sakes! You quickly pulled up the pants and blushed heavily, thoughts rushing in your mind.

“W—Where were you?! Why are you bleeding?!” You whispered yelled. Megumi was upstairs sleeping.

Toji hummed nonchalantly as he walked to the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets, pulling out some napkins and bandages. The gash was still bleeding as blood began pooling around his feet.

Was.. that how…? You pushed the thought away and trudged over to him. With quick hands, you grabbed the materials from him and began cleaning the wound. You had so many questions—wanting to know just what type of job could do this to him.

But you were the babysitter. And that’s all you were.

When you finished, the makeshift bandages that were wrapped hazardously around his arm. It wasn’t properly secured as it slipped a bit when Toji moved his arm but he still thanked you and fixed it to be tighter.

Silence filled the room as you grabbed some paper towels to clean up the blood on the ground.

Toji didn’t say anything, just watching you clean. Were you just this weird? He didn’t know a boy like you would be interested in babysitting, much less cleaning the entire house.

He knew he should’ve thanked you yesterday for cleaning it—but he didn’t. He wasn’t even sure why.

“What job do you have?” You suddenly asked, standing up as you threw away the dirty paper towels. Toji glanced at you. You expected him to just answer but instead he said..

“Cook somethin’ for me, Housewife. I’m starving.” He said, walking over to the living room. He plopped down onto the couch and grabbed the remote, turning the tv on.

You stared at the back of his head in shock. And pure rage but since you didn’t want to wake up Megumi, you silently cursed him out as you made him the laziest dinner ever.

It was fucking 12:00 a.m. by now! No way were you going to go all out for this broke lazy man.

You gave him a bowl of leftover salad and store bought sushi you and Megumi had left over. You could tell Toji looked a bit disappointed but still took the bowl from you.

As he ate, you still wanted to know more.

“Why do you keep calling me housewife? I’m a man, y’know!”

“So?” He simply said. “You embody the housewife… so I’ll call you housewife.”

You glared at him. “How?! Just by cleaning?”

“Cleaning. Taking care of Megumi. Restocking the kitchen. Making me dinner.”

“I made the dinner for Megumi.” You muttered bitterly.

“Oh, right.” Toji muttered, fishing something out from his dirty pants. There were stains you knew weren’t water… you told yourself it was his blood—not someone else’s. He pulled out a wad of cash and placed it into your hands.

“Paycheck.”

You counted the money. “It’s more than promised.”

“You stayed longer than necessary.”

“Right.” You whispered. You walked over and placed the cash into your bag. No one payed with cash as much anymore but you didn’t want to know why he wasn’t sending it electronically.

You glanced over at Toji, getting a better look of him. He was as good looking as a man who obviously hasn’t been grooming himself often. His eyes flickered to yours, a raised eyebrow as he waited for you to say something.

“Oh.. uh.. will you be going out for work again..?”

“No. I have enough money for at least a week.”

“Will you.. at least spend time with Megumi?”

Toji hummed. “It’s only been two days but you’re already caring a lot for Megumi.” He looked over at you. “You enjoy being with kids?”

“Do you?”

Toji stood up suddenly, causing you to flinch in shock. He placed the empty bowl on the small wooden coffee table and walked past you to the front door.

“Where are you going?” You asked, watching as he grabbed a jacket from the small closet. He didn’t even struggle pulling the jacket on—it was as if his wound didn’t hurt him. He was leaving? Again? With no work to do?!

It wasn’t on purpose. Really, you just acted so fast. Your hands were gripped tightly on his. You were staring right at his hand. The rough feeling of his palms—certainly of one that has held… his hand was large against yours. Even two of your hands were small compared to one of his. Toji glanced down at you, noticing that your—his, really—pants fell down again. He was about to comment on it again, ready for you to jump in embarrassment.

But when he saw your face, he paused.

Your eyes were a bit puffy, watery as you looked up at him. You.. This random guy he hired two days ago to watch Megumi was going to cry over him?

His dick twitched in his pants.

“Just… stay tonight. You might not notice it.. but Megumi was so happy when he woke up to me still here.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Toji. “I know I’m just a stranger and I’m not supposed to be bothering you like this… but I—uh, for Megumi… it’d be nice.”

The soft hums of the tv from the random show Toji was watching continued on. Even if it had been almost two days, the soft lavender smell still danced around the house. Just breathing it in brought you a sense of peace. Your grip loosened on Toji’s hand as you realized that this was a bit much. Maybe you did care a bit too much about Megumi.

But you weren’t even sure why.

A low deep laugh caught your attention as you looked up. Toji’s lips were pulled into a smirk as he used his free hand to grab your face harshly. Panic filled you as you reached up and grabbed at his arm, believing he was about to hurt you.

“You’re really embodying this housewife role, (Name). I guess I need to let you do your other job as well.” He said. “I was going to have some fun with a prostitute but.. I should’ve just went to my housewife.”

“Let’s take a bath first, can’t smell bad during your first time.”

12:20 a.m.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t say shit. Toji was relaxed in the bathtub that was not made for two people. Especially not someone as large as Toji.

The water was warm against your skin as you stared at your knees brought up to your chest. You were between Toji’s muscular thighs, making sure your back didn’t rest against his chest. Toji’s soft hums began to sound like light snoring. And, weirdly enough, you liked hearing it. You began getting comfortable but still curled up into yourself. A large hand gripped your waist and pulled you back, forcing your back to lay on his chest.

You meeped in shock, face flushed. But Toji didn’t say anything. His hand continued to rest on the curve of your waist, his thumb slowly tracing little circles all over it. The feeling of the warm water and comfortable touching on your body, you felt your eyes flutter close.

It wasn’t until you felt the subtle touch of something on your ass was when you shook awake.

It was a dick.

A.. uh, big one at that.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing Toji mostly asleep. His head was resting against the wall while his chest rose and fell slowly. You gently turned around to fully face him. He was hot. Sexy maybe.

But definitely older than you.

You reached out and rest your hands on his chest, leaning close to Toji. You didn’t know what exactly you were doing but you wanted to kiss him. Maybe constantly being called a housewife was getting to you.

Your body was fully pressed against his—lips close to his when a hand was squeezing your hips. You whimpered and pulled away, looking down to see Toji looking up at you with a lazy smirk.

“You’re not just a housewife, huh? Also a slut too.”

“No… ‘m not..” you muttered, blushing heavily as Toji’s hand trailed down to your ass and began to harshly knead it.

“You’re not? But what were you trying to do just now?”

You pursed your lips and looked away. Yeah, you were trying to kiss him. It felt embarrassing to be caught red handed like that. Toji hummed as he watched you squirm. His hands rose up and gripped your waist. You looked back at him and wondered if he was going to push you away.

But instead of pushing you away, he pulled you against your chest as he stood up. You gasped and quickly wrap your arms around his neck as a way to stay upright as he walked out of the tub. He didn’t even bother grabbing a towel—simply walked nude and wet to the bedroom with you in his arms. He was only even using one arm to keep you up.

He unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed. You let out a huff, glaring at him. The bed was now wet from the water on your body. It seeped into the blankets and when you tried to move off the bed, Toji grabbed your foot and pulled you towards the edge of the bed. You shrieked at his strength.

He had no problem just dragging or picking you up like a rag doll.

With your legs dangling off the bed, Toji lifted them up, causing your body to uncomfortably arch.

“Toji! This is uncomfortable,” you whined.

“I know.”

You watched with a bated breath as Toji kneeled at the edge of the bed, placing your legs on either side of his shoulder. The position was odd. You were resting on your shoulders and upper back with your lower half raised up by Toji’s grip. His large hands had a harsh grip on your thighs. You were sure there would be bruising in the morning.

“Usually, I don’t reward sluts.. but because you’re my housewife, I’ll be nice.”

With that, you suddenly felt a tongue graze right against your cunt. You shivered, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. The droplets from both of your bodies dripped onto the ground and bed.

“T…Toji..!” You whined, your legs squeezing his head as you felt his tongue lick between your folds. He was slow and sharp, one of his hands going down to flick your clit. Your toes curled and soft whimpers left your lips as his tongue reached deep between your folds.

You had to be control your voice—no matter how loud you wanted to be.

You cried out when his lips left your heat. His grip on your legs moved down to your waist and next thing you knew it, you were manhandled onto the bed. You were on your back, legs pushed up to where your knees reached your chin. The position was more comfortable than the one before.

Toji got between your legs and leaned over you, a sly smirk on his lips. “I never thought I’d ever be fucking Megumi’s babysitter. Most don’t make it after an hour.”

“Cause the house was awful..” You muttered.

You gasped when you felt a sharp tug at your hair. Toji smirked at you, obviously enjoying your cry of pain. He released your hair and you decided to keep your mouth shut.

“I was getting sick of having to hire a new babysitter every day—it’s good to know I won’t have to anymore.” You felt something rub against your pussy, slowly inching between your wet folds. “It’s a bonus you ended up being a good housewife.”

Crack!

Your mouth pulled open in a silent scream—back arched as Toji’s cock slammed right inside of you. It was painful, no doubt because he didn’t stretch you out for a cock that was so thick! It was stretching you, your cunt clamping down on it as you tried to get used to it.

The look on Toji’s face was of pure satisfaction. He was happy to be fucking such a tight wet cunt. Even more so it was yours. He didn’t wait long to start fucking into you, watching you come undone beneath him.

Your smaller body compared to his bigger form. Hands reaching up to claw at his back for some type of stability. The bed had broke one of its legs when he thrusted inside of you. You were sure it wouldn’t survive by how harsh his hips slapped against your ass, sending you up towards the headboard each time.

“I can’t really call you a slut if this is how your cunt feels. Were you one of those boys saving this,” he tugs lightly at your clit, earning a cry, “for someone special?”

You shook your head, moans and gasps leaving your lips as you tried to speak. It was so hard to speak that you didn’t even try, solely focusing on the cock stretching you full.

“Sorry to disappoint but this cunt belongs to me now.”

You didn’t tell him no. Because for some reason, you liked the sound of that.

As he continued fucking you, his hand rested down on your stomach as the other gripped your waist. You watched with hooded eyes as your continued crying and whimpering, your pussy clinching around his cock as you felt yourself reach your limit.

“You never answered me that time.” He leaned down close to you. “Do you like kids?”

You wanted to punch him for asking such a question during such a time but you simply nodded. “Yes…! Kids… ngh… cute…” you pitifully whimpered.

“Then Megumi deserves a sibling. Think you can give it to him?” He simply said. You blushed heavily at his words, mouth opening to ask what the fuck did he mean by that but he was now focused solely on fucking you.

Your hands scratched at his back as you arched yours, crying and moaning as his hips slammed into your ass. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to go through the whole ordeal of birth but just technically being claimed by Toji made your brain feel mushy.

It didn’t take long for you to cum. Your toes curled and your nails clawed at Toji’s back for purchase as your body shook with your orgasm. Toji didn’t let up, however, somehow going even faster. It was like he was using you like a toy, fucking your hole with reckless abandon as he chased his own release now.

He slammed his hips harsh, pushing his cock deep inside you before cumming. You whimpered, feeling the warm cum coat your insides. Cum seeped into the bedsheets as he pulled out, leaving your cunt to faintly clench around the missing feeling.

“You’re helping me save money. Don’t need to spend it on women when I got my housewife right here.” He patted your sore pussy. “If I knew fucking men would feel this good I would’ve done it earlier.”

You blushed. “I feel dirty..”

Toji simply laughed. “You are.” He grabbed your face, but much more gently than the times before and pressed a sloppy kiss onto your lips. “Now be a good boy and take a shower. I’ll join you soon.”

You bit your lip and mutely nodded as he got up from bed. With shaky legs, you slowly walked to the bathroom, feeling cum drip down your legs. You were sure some fell into the floor. God, you’d need to clean that layer. When you reached the bathroom and turned on the tub, you suddenly felt giddy.

Wow. You came here to babysit and suddenly you have a “boyfriend?”

Luck was on your side. You just wondered what it would be like dating someone like Toji.

6:30 a.m.

“T..Toji..!” You whispered, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. Toji was fucking into your already sore cunt. You were on your side with Toji behind you, his hand holding your leg up as his cock pumped into your pussy.

It’s been maybe four weeks since you got here. You haven’t gone home. Well, just once to get clothes since you couldn’t just stay in Toji’s clothes. Megumi was so happy that you were staying. Finally, something constant.

But you soon learned that Toji was a very horny man—he would constantly fuck you in the bathtub, living room, kitchen, and bedroom. It was always before he left for work and when he came back. You had gotten used to having your hole stuffed full of cum. It was getting tiring of cleaning it out.

You mentioned condoms… but that only resulted in him giving you continuous creampies until you apologized.

Toji finally cummed, once again coating your insides. He pulled and pressed a kiss onto your neck as he got up from the bed. He got dressed and turned to you.

“I’m going now. I want curry for dinner.”

That was all he said before leaving. It felt a little degrading, to be used and then told to make him dinner before he got back. But you still did it, no question asked.

You truly were a male housewife.

Definitely not what child you dreamed of being as an adult, but hey, things change.

At least the dick was good.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

First time writing deadbeatguro… how’d I do? Feel like I didn’t do him justice smh. But it was fun writing this, made it way too long but hey, plot just happened..

tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @remdayz @chill-guy-but-cooler @tehyunnie @smellwell @rhetorical-conscience @nakedtoasterr @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @tomoeroi @ofclyde @kaedezu

[nerdy-novelist017]

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly. 

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?” 

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

[jaylaxies]

HARD THOUGHT !

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

cw: smut, unprotected sex, usage of nicknames.

warning: 18+ content, minors dni

Best friend!Sunghoon had easily convinced you to move in with him. His reasoning sat well with you—low cost and splitting of the rent. As a university student, you would do anything to save up some extra cash and this deal was spot on as it saved you half the amount of your usual living expenses.

However, the provided reason wasn’t even close to what Sunghoon had actually wanted. He knew you had a crush on him, yet you never acted upon it due to your experiences regarding sex and love were limited, which made him want to ruin you beyond words. He was more on the possessive side of the spectrum, which was also laced with jealousy as he hated the idea of anyone else touching his little angel, his kitten.

So he took the matter in his own hands, pulling you even closer to him now that you shared an apartment with each other. He stared at you a little longer, walked around shirtless, his touch on your bare skin lingered for a second too long and you loved it. Your body always reacted to him in such a manner which made him lose his patience each fucking day, until he finally decided to cage you between him and the wall when you had freshly came out of the shower, clad in just your tiny towel.

“You like showing your pretty little body, don’t you, kitten?” He’d whisper in a deep tone, eyes dark as he stared right in your eyes. He could see you biting your lip, your thighs pressing close to each other as you tried to formulate a reply. “What are you talking about Hoonie—” you were shushed with his slender finger, which was now pressed against your lips. “I know you want me, baby. You just have to say it, yeah?” He assured you slow but serious.

You couldn’t wait any longer, not when you dreamed the filthiest of your fantasies with him, not when you touched yourself desperately hoping that it was him instead, even more so when he simply sat in the room next door. You nodded fervently, “want you so much, Hoonie,” you almost whimpered, feeling smaller than ever under his intense gaze.

“Oh baby, I’ll ruin your cunt and fuck you in every corner of this goddamn apartment,” he growled.

He was gentle with you for your very first time, he knew exactly how you’d like it, he was your best friend after all. But you didn’t bother thinking that he’d actually fuck you everywhere. It started from your bedroom, where he took care of your all night, trying his best not to go overboard with you. The next time, he took you to his bedroom. The task was simple, you’ll have to suck his dick and he’d make a mess on your pretty face.

It then progressed to you crying out his name in pleasure as he fucks you from behind on your couch which barely fit two people. He didn’t even leave the kitchen out of the deal as he fucked you on the marble counter, his cock hitting just the right spots as you dug your nails into his shoulders for support. Then he proceeded to take you to the bathroom, the reason was simple again—to save the water.

It didn’t matter if it was your study table or the wall next to the front door, it never mattered if you were on the carpet or his gaming chair, he had to fuck you. As for you, you loved every second of it, he made sure to get your wildest fantasies out of you, only to make them come true.

When you finally crawled up to him, giving him your sweetest smile as you asked him to fuck you, he knew he had won in life.

He had ruined you.

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[screampied]

NO NUT NOVEMBER ☆ JJK MEN

gojo, nanami, toji, getō, choso, jujutsu kaisen men & how long can they last during nnn

2.7k+ ☆ total wc ☆

☆ tags ☆ afab!reader. overstim , edging , dry humping , unprotected sex , oral [f] , orgasm-denial , semi-public sex , dirty talk , choking , dumbification kink, brat taming.

FAILED NOV. 1 ☆ GOJO SATORU

poor gojo fails on the first day immediately. he's so cocky once you suggest you two should try it—see which one breaks first and it's obviously gojo. you walking around in a sundress was just about enough for him to forget about the entire challenge.

“you really don’t think i’ll last for the entire month?” gojo says, and he’s just following you around. it’s november first and he’s already losing it. the pretty sundress that hung down you, practically and barely reaching your ass made him ten times hornier. “pft. please. i can last the whole month without—” and then he stops mid-sentence at the realization, and his lip quivers a bit whilst he’s rubbing himself against you from behind. “…can't i at least.. touch you, baby?”

“no,” you spoke, letting off a gasp once he bends you straight over the kitchen counter. all it took was for gojo to pull up your sundress a few inches towards your waist, and he nearly lets off a needy moan once he sees you’re wearing no panties. “you can last a month satoru. it's not that long.”

“hey ‘s not fuckin' fair,” he groans, and he’s so close propped up against you. his bulge hardens against you, he’s only wearing simple grey sweats and he slides his hands against your waist. “planned this all out, d-didn’t you,” and he lets off a low breathy sigh. “there's no rule sayin' i can’t bend ya over like this,” he speaks, his voice sounding whiner by the second—you gasp once he squeezes your ass, feeling his thumb brush against your slit. “is there, baby?”

gojo couldn't help himself. once he had you bent over, you now found yourself in mating press with him being pumped full over and over again. a day hasn’t even passed and he already lost—to be fair, in his defense it was your fault for walking around in a pretty short sundress that nearly showed the bottom parts of your ass.

“s-so nice ‘n warm f’me.” he’d pant again and again, having you in quite the position to where you’re laid flat on your back, his own cum is so much it’s oozing out of your pussy. your grip onto his wrist tightens as he dips his hips in and out, you’re moaning from his thrusts—already forgetting about the stupid dumb challenge you suggested for you and your boyfriend to participate in.

to think of going one month without being intimate with gojo.

“s-satoru,” you moaned, and his base just smacks just smacks and smacks against you. you're so dizzy, craving more of his sticky load by the second, desperately wanting to be even more full. it was such a mess between your legs. he’s panting and staring at you with that same hungry feral gaze, swiping a tongue across his sheeny lips—gojo leans in to kiss you hard, yet more so passionate. he’s moaning and whining into your mouth while preparing to cum again and he’s so sensitive. he can barely think straight. “m-mhm.”

your body is basically being fucked dumb into the fats of the silkened mattress. gojo’s weight hovers against yours as his cock thrusts in and out, giving you whiplash so good to where it has you digging your pretty nails into the pale roots of his arm.

“not finished with you,” he pants, his eye-lids were low, and he was still panting up a storm once he pulls out for a brief moment. gojo stares down at the mess he create—licking his lips once more before leaning down to briefly lick a little of his own cum from your thighs before letting off a sigh. “we… can try again next year, y-yeah?”

FAILED NOV. 3 ☆ CHOSO KAMO

choso would have honestly failed on the first day too, but he has a bit more self control which is surprising. he's a very needy man not to mention quite clingy too. three days felt so long for the poor guy though. three days without cumming inside—he'd go mad. so he had to improvise.

“just a taste princess, just a…taste,” he’d pant, staring at you with such intent. you’re just lying down on the bed, glancing back up at him while rubbing a hand over your tummy before smiling. “don’t look at me like that.”

“choso it’s only been three days,” you giggle, reaching for his hand and he was so warm—he lets off a soft moan just from your touch alone, so touch starved and it hasn’t even been that long.

a big baby.

but eventually, he was so cute and you gave in. choso didn’t even want to fuck you. all he wanted to do was please you, more than please himself. but he does end up pleasing himself just a tad bit. you getting off gets him off if that makes sense. the raven-haired man was propped securely between your legs, his tongue latched onto your sweet cunt, lapping it up continuously while his moans fanned against you—making you create out tiny whines and moans yourself.

“s-so good, so hungry,” he whines, and choso can’t help but reach into his black and white boxers, stroking himself. he couldn’t help it, just hearing your sweet noises was enough to make him cum right through his sweatpants. “drivin’ me s-so insane.”

“fuck choso,” you whimper, some long strands of his hair tickles and brushes against your thighs, he’s so sloppy too. making sure to spit on your pussy only to clean it up. choso wasn’t never fond of his pretty baby to be messy. he’s so into it, his lashes remained closed as he ate you out, continuing to stroke his dick—moaning right into your folds, eventually your slick drips down his chin and he’s craving more and more. “don’t stop, your tongue feels so g-good, baby.”

“praise me more,” he whines, giving you a brief stare, his eyes opens for a second and his eyebrows raise down and furrow. a cute saddened expression of how wanting and needy he was. “want you to tell me how good ‘m makin’ you feel, gorgeous.”

you’re panting heavily from his tongue and how deep it reaches, each suck and slurp he creates before you dig your fingers through his hair to make him maintain eye contact. “you’re so good, choso. you’re making me feel so good.”

“….oh, s’ all i want, pretty,” he sighs, giving the front part of your pussy a sweet kiss before dragging a single orgasm out of you.

FAILED NOV. 9 ☆ FUSHIGURO TOJI

you make toji fail because you’re just…horny. toji believe it or not, toji could last a few days of nnn despite being an actual walking sex-machine. it was your idea, but now you regret it. it makes his ego boost tremendously seeing how you couldn’t take it anymore, such a cock hungry girl.

“toji!” you’d pout, desperate for him to at least touch you at least—but no, he was busy occupying himself by working out. raising the hefty bench pressed up and down, he looked so good. and he was just ignoring you. a smirk lightly pressed against his lips as he lifts the gym equipment up and down, counting his sets in his head and you bit your lip.

you had to do something, you couldn’t wait. it’s been nine days, you were sitting on toji’s lap. specifically, his hard bulge that was poking through his grey gym shorts. “yes baby,” he speaks, acting as if you weren’t squirming on his lap, so desperate to get him off.

“i need you,” was the only pathetic words leaving your lips, and he watches as you slide your hands up his white tank tee, brushing your fingertips against his abdomen—his rock hard abs just flexing, a bit sweaty and you nearly moaned. “so bad. sosobad. fuck me please. ‘s was a stupid idea.”

“tch. ‘bout damn time. and ya said i’d break first,” he chuckles, setting the black dumbbells aside to their original position. “mm. at least y’er aware. now now, be a good girl ‘n take those filthy panties off f’me.”

you whined, thankful you wore a skirt so all you had to was really slip your panties off—you stare down at toji as you’re riding him and he’s still laid flat on his back on the gym bench. at least it wasn’t many people around but they’d still probably see you. but from anyone’s perspective, it’d look like a silly girl on her boyfriend’s lap for whatever reason.

“s-shit,” you moaned, feeling his cock expand deep just from his girth alone. it was so good, it nearly had you drooling. toji’s fat dick was something you could never get enough of. it stretched you out so good—it was indescribable to say how great it made you feel, your pussy yearned for more each time, your mouth grows dry as you grind your hips against him. and he’s just staring at you with his toned arms are just smugly pinned behind his back, watching you have the time of your life. “s’big toji. fuck.”

“ya know how to take it every time though, doll,” he grunts, bringing a hand towards your waist to somewhat guide your movements. you whimper once he brings a hard smack to your ass once he feels you start to slow down, he’s so big, his tip kisses against deep inside of your pussy and you’re so dizzy, you can’t even speak words. “fuckin’ whore-” he groans, and you end up making toji cum quicker than he thought he would—it shoots right inside you, his head goes back for about two seconds and it’s sexy, you can see his adams apple just briefly.

“better savor that shit,” he grumbles, watching you catch your breath yourself, and he brings two fingers and dips them inside your pussy before letting off a grunt. “should make ya lick my fingers clean. bet you’d like that, little slutty girl,” and he gives you a brief head pat while you’re pushed into his chest, panting over and over. “yeah ya fuckin’ would.”

FAILED NOV. 18 ☆ SUGURU GETŌ

geto could last long, but everything changed once you decided to tease him a bit too much. sending him videos of you touching yourself while he’s out at work or busy. he comes home to you—and he just can’t take it anymore.

geto’s breath shakes once he holds his phone in one hand, seeing you on the screen—only in your bra and panties, sliding a hand up and down your body. his eyes trail and observe every inch, his mouth dry a bit, wishing you were with him right now. “suguru baby, you miss me?” you’d say in the video recording, dragging your fingertips further and further down until you eventually stopped at the very hem of your panties. “it’s been eighteen days since you last touched me.”

“yeah…” he pants, knowing you obviously can’t hear him, but he wished you could. so bad. “miss you so bad, princess. miss your pussy.”

“remember, you can’t touch yourself to me either. or cum until the month ends, okay? love you.” and the video clip ends. of course, he watches it at least seven more times—nearly cumming his pants just at the sound of your voice alone.

geto groans, feeling the bulge in his pants strain staggeringly get bigger and bigger. once he finally gets home, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

you were already waiting for him on the bed, with a sly smile—geto's quick to pick you up and kiss you all over, staring with your lips and your neck. “the tip, just the tip. swear. jus’ gotta feel you baby. feel your warmth.”

“fine,” you smile, already making your way onto him. geto tells you at least ten shaky thank you’s once you’re hovering over his cock—geto looks so pretty underneath you, his hair covers his face and he starts whining once you’re doing as promised, just the tip. “what’s wrong, do you want more than that?”

“yeah but baby, you’re gonna make me c-cum.” he moans, feeling you start to sink down lower until your hips rocks against him and he lets off a soft whimper by accident. “damn, just like that. ride me baby. make me cummm,” and his voice is so smooth but shaky, his dark pretty eyes nearly rolls back and it’s so sexy, he’s so sensitive he keeps swallowing and bracing himself before within seconds—geto ends up shooting white ropes inside, you feel his dick twitch as he’s still spasming, it’s been so long and his load is so much.

“shit.” he whines, leaning in to kiss you and he ends up moaning in your mouth once you return the kiss. “saved- saved s’much for you, baby,” he moans, grabbing ahold of your hips, making you continue to rock against him—only before he grips your waist, and starts to make you slam onto him and you whined, completely taken aback. “gotta remind this pussy who it really belongs to though.”

FAILED NOV. 30 ☆ NANAMI KENTO

nanami's the only one of the few who can actually go an entire month, although he just about barely makes it. he comes home from a long day at work and he’s just so pent up and stressed. all he can think about is using you as his personal cum dump.

“you don’t know how hard it was to not—” and he pauses, having you lied flat on your back, using a single hand to pry your pretty legs open. you shiver from feeling the cold band of his watch brush against your thighs. “woman, you torture me, you know that?”

you whimper from feeling him slowly sink himself inside—he’s staring down at you and his weight presses against your ass, he groans once he goes in and out, he’s teasing you. his cock was so thick, it stretches you out in every shape or form. your pussy hugs and grips him tightly, and he just can’t help himself. “kento, cum in me p-please,”

“thought you said i couldn’t cum until december first, sweetheart,” he says in a low voice, it’s almost seductive by the sounds of his pronunciation. nanami’s just sliding his tip in and out, it’s leaking with some of his own pre-cum, and he lets off a chuckle once he hears your cute whine of frustration. “this is your little game, i’m just playing by the rules.”

“didn’t mean it,” you cry out, so needy for him to fuck you. he was so warm, so so warm, your eyebrows parted together in annoyance and you bit your lip at him sinking a few inches inside your tight needy cunt before pulling out again. “kento please. fuck me, cum-cum in me, i need it.”

“oh, i know,” he breaths, and you gasp once you feel him spank your ass before rubbing it softly. nanami groans—swiping his fat reddened tip against your throbbing hole, spitting on his hand before rubbing it against your entrance to make you whimper, then spanks your pussy. “to think i haven’t touched this pretty body for a damn near month. you only ended up torturing yourself, sweetheart. can’t last a day without me filling this sloppy cunt up,” and as he’s talking, you’re growing more and more dizzy. you’re practically drooling from how needy you were.

and he dumbs his words down just a tad bit for you, his voice grows low once he leans up close to you purposely, wrapping a hand around your throat as his weight pressed against your ass. “tell me,” he whispers. “say the words and i’ll overflow your pussy with everything i have, pretty girl.”

“please kento, need your cum. need it so bad. fill me up please. breed me.”

“anything for my girl.” he kisses the top of your head, stroking a thumb against the middle part of your neck before stuffing two fingers of his into your mouth—he didn’t expect you to suck on them, but you did, whining and whining over and over again once he starts to thrust inside of you. he’s slow but his strokes are deep, and it’s so romantic. “that’s it, jus’ relax for me. let me claim these walls, then i’ll claim your heart next.”

[mirkoluvs]

★ SUPER SHY

sanji (opla) x fem reader

genre: angst to comfort !!

notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!

you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.

“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.

“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.

finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?

“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.

you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.

is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?

before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.

“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.

the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.

after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.

“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.

soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.

“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.

“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.

once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.

your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .

“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.

“one fresh plate coming up!”

© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!

[verstappensrealwife]

No regrets - Oscar Piastri x Inexperienced!Fem!Reader

fluff, smut.

approx 1200 words

warnings: fem receiving: fingering and oral, p in v, loss of virginity, not proof read. Pussy and shaft….

based on this request :)

oscar piastri masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

You never imagined losing your virginity to him.

He was your neighbor for goodness sake!

“Good morning!” He greeted each morning as you left your apartment at 8am sharp to head to work. You’d reply in kind and go on with your day, sometimes thinking to the cute boy across the hall.

Oscar, however, was not a morning person. He practically forced himself out of bed just to see you, speak to you, pretend to be going somewhere, then go back inside and chastise himself mentally for not even trying to ask you out.

One evening as you were coming home, he was leaving his apartment, and almost tripped over his feet when he saw you.

He was not prepared to speak to you. Each morning he’s silently sike himself up to utter two words. Now he was stuck in a situation: ignore you and pretend he didn’t just nearly fall straight into you, or mutter some words you probably won’t hear because of how quiet he would inevitably be.

“Hi,” You smiled as you pushed your key into your door.

“Hello.” He said back, not sure whether to walk away- very quickly- or stay and attempt to talk to you. It was the latter. “Sorry to be nosy but urm… well… I don’t think i actually know your name?”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” You replied, holding your hand out to him to shake. His hand felt more than limp in your grasp.

“Oscar… Piastri.”

“Nice to meet you, Oscar… Piastri.” you giggled, slightly making fun of his shy demeanour

He huffed a small laugh, “Sorry to be more nosy, but I don’t think I have your number either?” He tried… he really did. And he succeeded!

“Oh! Sure, yeah!” You passed him your phone, a small smile playing on your lips as you watched him press the digits into a new contact. “Well, I should be going, a girl needs to eat.”

“I- I mean you can eat with me…” He said, “I- that sounds weird- I- Do you wanna go on a date with me?”

That was the first of many dates he had invited you on. It became almost routine over the 2023 summer break for Oscar to take you out, every Friday evening, 7pm.

But by the end of August he had to of course go back to travelling the globe, racing cars.

The two of you stayed in touch, he gave you a key to his apartment to water his plants- of which only 2 were real. He routinely called you on a Friday night- unless team duties came upon him- to keep up with tradition.

But he grew tired of not being able to see you, physically.

The flight was long, and boring, but seeing Oscar as the first thing out the airport was more than exciting.He hugged you- longer than friends would hug- and led you by the small of your back to his car.

“To the hotel?” He asked you.

“Yes sir!” You smiled.

The hotel room you were put in was huge, the bed probably bigger than your kitchen at home.

Before you even touched your suitcase you fell, backwards, into the pristine white sheets of the hotel bed. Oscar falling in suit.

Lay next to eachother, you turned your head to see him already looking at you. He had a lovesick look in his eyes as he admired your face, eyes, lips. The more he stared at your lips, the more he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing them.

His body acted before his mind and he was kissing you before he knew it. You were a little taken aback but didn’t pull away- you didn’t want to.

Until he moved his hand from your face, to your waist, to the inside of your leg.

You jumped up quickly, almost headbutting him in the nose in the process.

He was more than swift to throw apologies at you, sorries and quick movement to the other side of the bed.

There was an uncomfortable silence which Oscar hated. He wanted to say something, anything, but no words could fix, what in his mind, was the most awkward encounter with a woman in his life.

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” You said quietly from the far side of the bed. He looked over at you, face flushed a light pink in embarrassment. “I– embarrassingly enough, im a virgin.”

He frowned confused. “Your a virgin? Like… never had sex… You?”

“Rub it in why dont you,” You laughed, “Why’s that so shocking?”

“Look at you! You’re like the most beautiful woman i’ve layed eyes on.” He wasn’t lying. “I thought men would be throwing themselves at you- I would.”

Now it was your turn to blush crimson, heat rising up your neck and across your face. You carefully shimmied towards him, holding his face gently. “If I’m gonna do it, I want it to be with you.”

That was all he needed to hear. He was on you like predator to prey, greedily kissing you, feeling your body needily. Until he went lower.

He was tentative, gentle in pushing his hands under the fabric of your underwear. Rubbing his finger up and down, smearing the wetness across your pussy. “Thats a good girl,” He said quietly. You weren’t meant to even hear him, but you did. And god, did it make you moan louder. He smirked at your visceral reaction. You heartbeat quickening as he pushed one finger, then two inside.

“See, no need to be nervous… Feels good, hm?”

You babbled some sort of response to him, a ‘yes’ somewhere in the jumble of the reply.

He pushed the clothes off of your bottom half completely, before moving to pull the shirt off your torso, unclipping your bra with ease and tossing it somewhere behind him. He was more than gentle as he kissed you, your neck, chest, stomach, thighs, and finally your clit.

He licked and sucked like there was no tomorrow. Indulging in the way your body reacted to him, to what he was doing to you, how he made you feel.

The first orgasm washed over you, legs shaking as he licked up everything. Climbing back up your body he was face to face, his mouth covered in a shine of liquid. “So, do you wanna do this. Really do it.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. He undressed, and kneeled between your legs, rolling a condom up the length of his shaft before positioning it infront of the entrance.

You took one final deep breath and he slowing pushed his hips towards your own. It hurt less than you had imagined- -but that didn’t take away from the fact it still stung.

He hadn’t moved in almost 2 minutes before you gave him the go ahead, pulling his hips back slowly and pushing them back towards you at the same pace. It hurt less as he carried on, eventually the sting turning to pleasure.

“Doing so- fuck- so well for me.” He groaned as he reached his peak slowly.

You could barely make words, so stuck to just moaning his name over and over again, whines of need flowing from your lips.

“Gonna cum, okay baby?”

You nodded quickly as he quickened his pace a little before his hips stuttered against yours before pulling out of you and immediately getting up. “I’ll be back- just need to clean you up.”

You never imagined losing your virginity to him.

But god, you didn’t regret it. Not one bit.