#i got a call from the next up on the ladder and he was like

[veganhamsalad]

Christmas retail has me questioning if I am actually human or a rogue piece of automated programming that has to be conscious for continous loop of commands forever

[endlessthxxghts]

Biology

“Uncle”!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 5.4k

Summary: Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

Content/Warnings: able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship. If there’s anything that should be up here but I missed or I made any improper tags, please let me know!

A/N: Hi, my loves! This is slightly different than what you’re used to coming from me… All I can say is, you’ve read the warnings! Don’t bite if it is not your flavor! But for those who do like, I really hope you enjoy! And to my love @strang3lov3, thank you for prompting this and encouraging this side of my brain to finally stop hiding in the shadows. And thank you for your eyes on this and the mood board as well. I love you.🩶

masterlist | notifs blog

“Hey, hon, when you headin’ over to uncle Joel’s?”

You glance at the timer on the oven. “In about ten minutes after these cookies cool. Need something from me?”

“Can ya grab my toolbox before ya leave? Forgot it there the other day,” he replies. “Figured you could get it since you’re already goin’ there today.”

“Sure thing. It’s not the heavy one, is it? Because I don’t know if that old man’s back is ready for a heavy lift like that yet.” The timer on the oven beeps. You slide on your oven mitts to pull the tray out. “Made two batches by the way. How many you want? I’m taking some to Uncle’s, too.” 

About a week ago, Joel had a contracting accident. Some newbie wasn’t watching the older man’s back as Joel climbed up a wobbly ladder, and the next moment, Joel’s footing slipped. He landed right on his lower back, a piece of wood perched on the ground, sitting at just the right spot on the floor to render him immobile. Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, and your father, his best friend since before you were born, are the only two Joel trusts to get the job done perfectly, so Joel put them two in charge until he heals. 

Bed rest, the doctor had ordered Joel, for at least three weeks. It’s been one so far, but with you offering to be his nurse — one that forces him to stay in bed unless he needs to eat or use the restroom — he thinks he just might be back to work by next week. If you’ll let him, that is. 

“No, it’s the small one, hon, you got it,” your father reassures you. He lovingly slaps his growing belly as the trays hit the kitchen counter. “Y’know, darlin’, ever since you moved back, I’ve been gainin’ some weight. Can’t imagine what you’re doin’ t’ Joel over there.”

Your lip pulls up in a smirk. “Joel is in good hands, y’know. And technically, I don’t have to leave you any,” you say with a challenging brow, pulling the cookie trays out of his reach. 

“No, no, I’m not sayin’ that,” your father’s eyebrows raise in worry. His daily cookie is very important to him. “You can leave me like… five… or six.” 

“I’m just gonna leave you a whole batch. The six are gonna be gone before I even leave the house,” you tell your father as his hand subconsciously reaches for the cookie tray. 

He scoffs, “Ya have no faith in me.”

“So what’s in your hand already?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, walking away with a mouthful of warm cookie dough and melted milk chocolate chips. 

“Uh huh,” you yell back. “Gonna be leaving in just a sec. I’ll see you later.”

It takes less than ten minutes to get to your uncle’s house. You unlock the door using the spare key he gave you as a teenager, and immediately, nurse mode is activated. 

“Uncle Joel!” You yell, exasperated. He turns around from his place in the kitchen, painfully slow. He’s going to make his back worse. “What do you think you’re doing?” You place the fresh cookies on his dining table along with your keys. You cross your arms angrily for good measure. 

“My coffee’s cold. I was warmin’ it up,” he huffs, annoyed.

“Bed, please.” Your hands find his waist, and you guide him back to his room. “You know I’m here around this time. You didn’t wanna call me first to see where I was?”

You ease him in a sitting position at the edge of his bed. He grunts as his ass meets the mattress. He grumbles his response. “Need to start gettin’ back to everythin’ independently, y’know that, don’tcha?”

“Is your memory going with your back, too, unc?” 

“‘Scuse me?” He looks at you incredulously. 

“Three weeks were the doctor’s orders. Not one,” you tell him, putting your foot down. 

He lays himself down with another wince at the motion, no acknowledgement to your words. God, he’s so stubborn. 

“I’ll go make you a fresh cup,” you tell him, feeling sympathetic for the man. His work is his life, and it’s not going to get any easier with age. 

Making your way back to his kitchen, you wash out the coffee pitcher, replace the grounds and the filter, and do some light cleaning as you wait for the bitter, brown liquid to brew. 

It’s only been five minutes since you returned to the kitchen, and the painful moans and groans from his bedroom have only gotten louder. You search around the place and find the heat pack you bought a few days ago and pop it in the microwave. You grab some pain meds, fill up a glass of water, and just in time, the microwave sings to you, telling you your contents are ready. 

Ignoring the coffee for a moment, you make your way back to Joel’s bedroom. His eyes are closed, but his entire body is tensed up in pain. Poor guy. You knock at his door to catch his attention before entering. “Unc?”

One eye peels open. “Yes, nurse?”

“Funny.” A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat. “Come take these.”

He makes no move to get up. 

You set the painkillers and the water on his bedside table, the heat pack wedged underneath your armpit. You start to reach for Joel to help him up, but he stops you. “I got it,” he grunts. You let him have this win. 

You hand him the glass of water first, then the pills. He swallows the painkillers in one big gulp, swallowing down the rest of the water in another. He eyes the heat pack in your arm. 

“Do you want-”

“Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the soft warmth. 

“Lay down first, I’ll put it underneath you.”

Without another word, he positions himself. His body jerks when your soft hand slips underneath his back, pushing him to lift a little while you slide the heat underneath. “This okay?”

“Mhm,” he forces out, eyes clamped shut. It’s not okay, you think. 

“How would you feel on your stomach?” you suggest. 

“Dunno. Never tried.”

“Well, then.” You set the heat pack down, and it’s your turn to crawl, uninvited, into his bed. You walk on your knees towards the opposite, unoccupied side, adjusting the pillows in a way you think might be the most comfortable. This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with an old man’s back; you’ve got your dad. This is, however, your first rodeo dealing with an old man more stubborn than a screaming goat not getting his way. “Come on.”

“No.” 

“What do you mean no?” 

“That ain’t gonna be comfortable.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “I swear to God. I will flip your ass over myself if I have to.”

“You’re bossy,” he spits.

“So you’ve said.” 

Not giving him a chance to prepare, you hook your one hand at his side and your other on his hip, and you pull him towards you. It doesn’t fully flip him over, but it does the trick in getting him to finish the rest of the action himself — albeit, with a very strained yelp from the back of his throat. 

He groans for a few minutes more as you adjust some flat pillows underneath his belly and then prop the lukewarm heating back right at the base of his spine. You’ll probably have to heat it up in ten minutes again, but it’ll do for now. You stay in your spot for a minute, and already his pained noises begin to subside. 

“Better?” You know it is. You just want him to admit it. 

And when a single huff with zero protests from the grumpy man reverberates around the room, you know you’ve won this round. 

“I’ll go get your coffee now,” you hum. 

A soft rasp of your name has you spinning back around as you reach the room’s threshold. 

“Hm?”

“Thanks,” he tells you. 

“It’s what I’m here for, unc.”

You put his fresh cup of coffee in a thermos this time. You can’t imagine how often he’ll get up being in this position, but at least the freshness will be there with every sip he does end up taking. 

“How’s it going?” You ask him as you set his coffee nearby. You feel the heat pack on his spine, and it’s as you called it to be by now: room temperature. “Want me to reheat it?” 

“‘M okay,” he replies, voice groggy. He must’ve fallen asleep. 

“Okay.” You stand there for a moment. You can tell the heat helped, but his body isn’t entirely relaxed. He’s still tense, as if a nerve or something is being pinched. 

You recall your memory from a while ago before you moved back with your dad. Your brother, who is a mixed martial arts athlete, had a sparring session that hurt his back, nearly in the same area as Joel. He had you running his massage gun over his muscles nearly every night for a month straight. “It needs to uncoil somehow,” he told you. An idea crosses your mind then. 

You saunter to Joel’s en suite bathroom in search of some type of lubricant. Sitting loud and proud on the center of the bathroom counter is a little bottle of Equate’s Personal Liquid Lubricant. Your brain falters for a second, the bottle of lube throwing you off your original plan. That is absolutely not the kind of lubricant you were looking for. Shaking away the image from your mind, you bend down to look in the cabinets underneath. Bingo, a bottle of Aveeno body lotion. This should do. 

You invite yourself onto his bed for the second time today. “Let me give you a massage.”

“What?” His head turns to you now, utterly confused. He definitely heard you wrong, he thinks. 

“Let me give you a massage,” you repeat. “It’ll help.”

A massage actually does sound nice right now. But you’ve been nothing but bossy this last week while Joel lays here helplessly. He’s bored. And he’s had enough. “It ain’t gonna help.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

Jesus. Haven’t you had this conversation before? You mentally slap your forehead. Again, leaving him no other options, you reach for his flannel atop his shoulders and begin to pull them down. 

“Hey, hey, wait, now what in the hell-” He tries to stifle back a laugh as he wriggles in your hold, trying to playfully push you off without hurting himself more in the process. 

You quickly release his clothes, hands up in surrender where he can see them. You’re just realizing now just how forward your action must’ve been. “How am I gonna massage you-” 

The embarrassment written all over your face has Joel tearing up as he tries to hold his wheezing laugh in. With his eyebrow quirked at you, he responds, “If you wanted me naked, kiddo-”

“Jesus, ew! Really?” An unbearable heat spreads across your cheeks. Your eyes are downcast, looking everywhere else but him. “It- it’ll be better if I can directly touch-”

Only then do you feel the bed shaking with his laughter. He’s fucking with you. And here you were, about to offer something that would relieve a whole lot of pain. “Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, pulling yourself up and making your way off of his bed. 

“No, okay, wait,” he laughs, trying to catch his breath. “Jus’ messin’ with you, who am I to deny a massage?” He raises his eyebrows once, twice. Still messing with you, seeing how far his taunting with you can go. 

“You’re disgusting,” you deadpan. 

“‘M not the one tryin’ t’ massage her uncle,” Joel says as he attempts to shrug his shoulders at you.

“I’m gonna leave now.” One foot makes it to the ground before Joel speaks again. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, ya can’t take a joke? I’m only messin’ around. Come back. Gonna leave me hangin’? In pain? C’mon, nurse.” His tone falls softer, sweeter. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his words. And, fuck, why is it making you heat even further, in places beyond your face? In places you shouldn’t be?

“Fine,” you relent. “Stop saying weird shit then.” You still can’t look at him. Not after the way your body decided to react in the shift of energy. An abrupt shift of energy, as far as you can tell. 

He’s your dad’s best friend. Your uncle, for crying out loud. Not by blood, but still. There’s never been a feeling beyond that. Sure, you’ve had your silly little school girl crush on him during your young teenage years, but that was your hormones being your hormones. You grew out of them. Even your own father can’t deny the conventional attractiveness of his best friend. 

Plus, suggestive commentary is bound to make anyone feel hot. It’s basic biology. Your response is nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you convince yourself of when you climb back into your uncle’s— no, into Joel’s bed, trying to ignore the way your panties stick dutifully against your throbbing core.

Joel leans onto his side as you get yourself situated, unbuttoning the bottom half of his flannel, so you can flip up the bottom to reach his lower back. After the bottom half of the buttons are undone, he lays back on his front. “Here,” he calls your name. “Jus’ lift it up from the bottom.”

You scoot closer to him, standing on your knees, and you reach over to grab the hem of his flannel, pulling it up as gently as possible, exposing just enough to be able to reach the irritated areas. You frown at what you see. Inflamed skin, purples and yellows dancing all across his lower back, forcing him away from the very thing he lives for. He may have been a stubborn bitch this entire week, but that doesn’t stop the sympathy you feel for the man. 

You put some of the lotion in your hand, rubbing it between your two palms to warm it up a little. You place your hand on the side closest to you first, moving in circular motions and adjusting your pressure ever so often. “Let me know when the pressure is good.”

So far he hasn’t said much, a slight groan here, an exhale there. You feel a knot as you move lower, so you increase your pressure. You’re met with a literal moan, and you swear you have to bite back your own vocal response. “Fuck,” he sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s perfect, darlin’.” 

“Okay,” you squeak, your thighs clenching together to attempt any kind of relief to the heat between your legs. 

After a few more passes over the area — and a few more indulgent, harder presses of your palm to pull more angelic sounds from him — you switch to the other side. Except, at this angle, you don’t really have as good an angle as you did before. Your leg swings over his ass, bracketing him in between your thighs, before you can even register the move your body just made. A soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel the new angle you’ve just given yourself. 

“Joel?” You call sweetly. Innocently.”I- I’m not hurting you or anything, am I?”

Hurting? No. Putting him through Hell? Close enough. 

Joel has done many questionable things in his lifetime. Getting involved with taken (married or otherwise) women, couples who wanted a third… Joel has lived through it all. Mainly in his younger years, but nevertheless. He has done and seen many things. But none of these things have ever included getting a fucking hard on for a girl — a woman? — he practically had a hand in raising. You call him uncle, for crying out loud. 

His physical response means nothing. It’s basic biology. The tender yet skilled touch of your warm hands directly against his even hotter skin, lighting every single nerve ending on fire, forcing the blood to course through his veins, to make its way down south— 

“Christ-” he snarls as you practically sit on him. His mouth shuts instantly as his eyes shoot open. He didn’t mean for that to come out. “Y-yeah,” he corrects. “‘M alright.” 

“Just- just let me know,” you tell him. He can hear the shake in your voice. He can tell biology is doing a number on you, too, based on your tone alone, if the heat engulfing his rear as you try your best not to make contact with it isn’t enough to go by. 

He focuses on his breathing as best he can as your hands push slightly past his jeans, getting underneath the seam of his boxers, and then immediately softening your touch as you run your fingers up his spine, awaking a chill he never knew was possible until now. You rub beyond the exposed area of his lower back, reaching his shoulder blades and entirely up to his shoulders, forcing the flannel to rise with your hands. He’s so broad and warm, and you would absolutely be drooling all over him by now if you weren’t so shocked at how tight his muscles really feel. How has this man not gotten any injuries sooner? How was he still doing all this heavy lifting? You dig the pads of your finger tips further into the thousands of tiny knots you feel, and his body jerks in actual pain this time. 

“God damn, girl,” he snaps. “What are you doin’?” 

“How the fuck do you even function?” You sound genuinely horrified. 

“What-”

“Your shoulders and neck are fucking covered in knots how do you even-” you cut yourself off with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You need to flip over.” 

Fuck. 

“Why?” He asks defensively. 

“I’m gonna break these knots. I need to start from the front.” 

“Ya ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my neck, I swear to God-”

“Quit being stubborn. What did I say earlier? I’m gonna flip you myself if you don’t-”

“Alright, fine, gimme a sec,” he bites. Joel takes a deep breath, at war with himself for how he’s going to handle his next course of action. 

Whatever happens next, there is no avoiding the fact that you will be made aware of the bulging erection between his legs. You can know about it, that’s fine, but the second you make contact, he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to control himself. Which is why he rips off the band aid quick. Flipping himself over with you still hovering over him, he tries his best not to touch you. Though, the second he’s comfortable, his focus is on your waist, grabbing you immediately and missing the way your eyes widen at the tenting fabric of his jeans. He pulls you higher up to sit on his lower tummy. 

You squeak out a little gasp as he adjusts you, and fuck it makes the pulsing between his legs even worse. He releases you, bringing his hands back to his sides. 

“Comfortable?” you whisper. You try so hard not to use your voice, worried that it’ll reveal just how turned on you are by this situation you’ve put yourself in. He gives you a single nod, and with that, you lean to grab more lotion. 

The angle you are at forces you to lean the front of your body onto Joel to be able to reach his shoulders. You can feel his body tense underneath you; you can hear his labored breathing as your hands further push away his flannel, working away at each knot. 

You lean forward further, giving yourself the ability to reach just below Joel’s neck. With this action, your hips shift, pressing down against Joel’s belly in a way that sends a sudden jolt of butterflies through your core. Your hands freeze in their movement, breath and fingertips stuttering as your entire face and neck heat up. You sneak a quick glance to Joel, and his eyes are still relaxed. He didn’t notice. 

It takes you a moment to start your movements back up again, but when you do, you can’t help the way you repeat exactly what you did before — allowing yourself another experimental roll of your hips against his soft abdomen. Only this time, you’re way less sly, for the whimper of pleasure you thought you could hide slips right out, right for his sharp ears to take note of. Shit. 

“Y’ alright there?” His eyes are trained on you now; he knows what you just did. Joel sports a quirked eyebrow as he waits for your response. 

“Mhm,” you rush out, ignoring his piercing gaze. 

It takes every ounce of willpower for you to run over the knots in his shoulder again without driving your hips into him, but even the push and pull of your arms is a full body movement, and you feel it. You feel the growing wetness in your core, the growing heartbeat that his bare tummy no doubt can feel now. 

Your body is splayed across him, the warmth of you leaking through your bottoms and onto his hot skin as you pathetically try to play off the fact that you aren’t grinding your wet cunt across him right now. With a rasp of your name, he takes a sharp breath in. “What are ya doin’?” He grunts, pained. Conflicted. 

This is so wrong. But it feels so good. Your arousal — how utterly desperate you are for the older man underneath you — is shone all over your face, brighter than any other feeling of disgust or wrongness you’re trying to convince yourself of. But the internal battle is still there, though, and it forces your hips to come to a full stop. It forces cries of apologies from your lips. It forces regret. 

“I- I’m sorry,” you choke back a sob. “Please, I- this is so wrong, I’m so stupid, uncle, I-” 

God damn it. Joel is too damn hard to deal with this shit now. “Oh, Jesus Christ, will you cut the fuckin’ uncle bullshit?” He finally snaps. His hands spring to life, finding their way up your thighs, tightening once they reach your hips. He forces you to move again. “Ya think I wanna hear that fuckin’ word while you fuckin’ soak me? Huh? While ya rub on me like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”

“Shit,” you moan, the strength of his hand making the assault against your mound all the more intense. “Joel, please,” you cry, your fingers shaking as you hold onto his chest. 

Your thighs begin to tremble as he maintains a rough pace to your movements, his bed creaking with every shove of your hips against him. His grip on you is one of steel, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving tiny bruises as a reminder of today’s actions. 

He is fucking covered in you — the slick of your desire pooling through your bottoms and into his skin, making each grind smoother. He licks his lips at this, his eyes dark as he drinks you in from above; your own eyes glossy and a sheen of sweat along your skin. “Look at ya, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice low enough to send a fresh wave of arousal pouring from your hole. “Fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby. Needed me that bad, did ya? Was tryin’ t’ tell ya earlier,” he grunts, “Y’know ya just had to ask.” A lazy smirk pulls across his lip. 

You let out a whimper at his words, your hips finally rolling alongside his own guidance, instinctively searching for more friction. “Atta girl,” he groans, “That’s it, fuck- makin’ a fuckin’ mess a’ me, darlin’.” 

You’re panting now, the rhythm and pressure mixed with the filth of his Southern drawl ignites every single nerve ending throughout your body. He watches you with a dark intensity, the brown of his eyes replaced with pure black lust, his eyes unable to stray away from the pleasurable desperation filling your features. 

“Gonna come like this, sweetheart?” He taunts, driving you into him even harder. 

“Mmm- my God, yeah- yes,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly finally tightens, your breathing ragged as needy moans escape your lips. 

With a final roll of your hips and the utterance of a that’s my girl, the coil finally snaps, pleasure crashing over you, coursing through your veins as you come all over him, your slick unable to stay within the limits of your clothes, leaking and dripping down the sides of him and onto the mattress below. Your thighs convulse around his waist, his hold on you continuing your thrusts, dragging out your orgasm until your own hands find his and rip him away from you.

“Ya ain’t done yet, sugar,” Joel gruffs, grabbing the globes of your ass cheeks and dragging you down, letting you feel his ignored and now raging erection. 

“Never said I was,” you purr, a soft moan blessing his ears at the feel of his bulge against your ass. He can feel your smirk against his chest. 

Body still trembling, Joel lifts your ass in the air, sliding your bottoms down over the curve of your body. The stickiness of your panties pulls off with a wet squelch, the cool air of the room mingling with the wet warmth of your bare pussy, the stark contrast forcing chills to run through your veins. 

“God,” he murmurs as you give a little wiggle of your ass in the air. “Pretty as a peach, huh, darlin’?” He guides you lower, pushing you down onto his bulge. The hardness of him beneath you immediately sends a fiery need to your core. Your hands move on their own as you pull your body up, reaching for the buttons and zipper of his jeans, undoing them with ease despite the eager shake of your hand. You pull the jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and angry and leaking. 

“Oh, fuck,” you swallow your gasp. “God, I need you so bad,” you whine, already lifting up to line the tip of him to your swollen cunt. 

You sink down with a breathless moan, your head flying back as your hands grip onto his tummy to keep you from buckling. 

Joel’s breathing stutters, his moans filling the air as you practically choke his cock. “Shit- so fuckin- fuckin’ tight.” His hands find their home on the meat of your ass, holding you tight, grounding himself from coming like a damn teenager.

You move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside of you, how big he is. God, you don’t think you’ve ever taken anything quite as long and as thick as him. Your heart skips a beat at that, knowing that he’s ruined you for anyone else. 

It isn’t long before the raw need takes over, and you move faster, hips rolling back and forth as you ride him, the wet sound of skin against skin as you alternate to a bounce ever so often. 

Despite the risk of hurting his back even more, he can’t stop himself from gripping you tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as his hips buck up into you, starting their own rhythm, meeting every one of your thrusts. The sensation is overwhelming with the size of him; it’s a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, mixing sweet whines of ecstasy with whines of overstimulation, and it’s the best music to have ever graced his ears. 

“Look at ya,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ made for this, weren’t ya? Fuckin’ made for takin’ this cock, huh, sweetheart?” 

You nod weakly at his words. They send a flutter down your belly to your pussy, and his mouth is all it takes to send you to your second brink of collapse — your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you move, as he drives himself into you without abandon. 

Every thrust pushes you further to the edge, the sting of the stretch, the sensation of being so full — it’s almost too much to bear. He can hear it in the way your cries change. It’s becoming too much. 

“Y’ can take it, sweetheart, almost there,” he grunts. His hands take over in guiding your movements, urging you faster, harder, bringing you both to the cliff’s edge. 

“C’mon, baby, can feel her squeezin’ me, know she wanna come, baby. Breathe, doll, jus’ let go,” he rasps, his words coming in staggered.

The wet tightness of your walls, both the feel and the sound, causes Joel to fall first — a low, guttural groan filling the room as he fills you with his hot, thick spend.

The sensation of him pulsing inside you, unloading everything he’s worth, sends you over your edge, your pussy clenching around his cock as you come, the sensation rippling through you, shredding your vocal cords as you scream out in pleasure. 

Everything goes dark for you, nothing but the fuzzy sound of Joel’s sweet praises at the top of your head as he guides you through your come down. 

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl.”

For an asshole, who knew he could be so sweet? 

You roll off of Joel as soon as your heart steadies, your entire body on fire from all the exertion. You can feel Joel’s body stiffen as you use him for support. His back is killing him right now.

A few moments pass as your eyes slowly start to close, but the deep gruff of your name stops you from dozing. 

You turn your head to the man beside you. “Yes?” 

For the first time today, it’s Joel who can’t make eye contact with you. “Can you, uh… can you-” he clears his throat, trying to rid himself of his awkwardness. “Can you warm up the heat pack again?” 

Your smirk lifts your cheek before you can even try to stop it. “Come again?” 

He lets out a frustrated huff. And he can’t turn away from you. His back is killing him right now. “My back-”

“Yeah, what about your back?” 

“You fuckin’ little shit-”

You giggle as you flip onto your side, your hand holding your head up to get a better look at him. “Your back is hurting, baby? Need me to get the heat pack for you, hm?” 

He doesn’t respond. He just has the deepest, most grumpiest scowl known to man on display. 

“Oh, come on. You need my help, is that it? Need to hear you say it, unc.” You emphasize the last syllable of your sentence, a belly laugh threatening to escape you. 

Oh, two can play at that game. “Yeah, baby, I need your help. I need the help from my beautiful, beautiful niece, hm? My beautiful, needy niece whose pussy gets all soaked jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout me, huh? Gets all wet and needy thinkin’ ‘bout her uncle-”

Your resolve finally snaps, your eyes clamping shut as you cover your ears, loud la la la’s coming from your mouth as you ungraciously roll yourself off of his bed. “Enough, fine! Fine! Fuckin’ nasty,” you groan as you make your way to the kitchen. 

“‘M not the one who started it, sweetheart,” Joel says, a triumphant smile plastered across his cocky face. 

“I made you cookies by the way,” you yell after a beat. “Want one?” 

Joel’s hand reaches for his belly. He doesn’t need one, that’s for sure. “Yeah,” he responds not a second later. 

You come back to his bedroom, heat pack in one hand, no cookie in the other. You hand him the heat pack. You make him adjust it himself. 

“Where’s the cookie?” He asks, a tinge of impatience on his tongue. 

“Oh, I thought you were gonna come down and get it.” 

He looks at you incredulously. 

“I just figured you wanted to start being more independent and all. Given how strenuous you were being a few moments ago,” you offer with a faux innocence.  

“I swear to fuckin’ God, when I get my hands on you-”

“Your hands on me? Yeah? When?” You start making your way out of his bedroom. “Come get me if you wanna show me a lesson. Know you been dying to all week.” 

If he can fuck you the way he did, maybe full-time bed rest isn’t what Joel needs. He needs to stretch and move around; he needs to activate his muscles, especially being on the older side. It really is basic biology.

I would absolutely love to hear what you guys thought of this! Any and all your love and commentary truly keeps me going and motivated even when the writer’s block is at its strongest. Wouldn’t be here without you all. I have so much love in my heart for you! Talk to y’all soon🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

Leaf divider by @saradika-graphics

[hedgehog-moss]

(There is blood pictured at the end of this post) (well, 1 drop) (don't worry it's mine, not some innocent creature's)

I found a dormouse in my kitchen today, just chilling on the ceiling above my head, watching me cook. Maybe even judging my cooking technique like Ratatouille. I only noticed its presence because there's a bunch of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling above the stove and at one point I heard a rustling, then a crunching noise.

It was eating my herbs.

As if they were a little snack I'd placed here for my dormouse friends. None of my other animals can walk on the ceiling, therefore any food that's near the ceiling must be an offering to the dormice. (I admit, that's sound logic.)

A dormouse family has been living in my walls since before I moved here—I should probably call it a dormouse dynasty, by now. Here's the first post I wrote about them, in 2019 ! The cats eat a lot of them (especially Morille, she loves dormice) but apparently not enough to make the key decision makers in this dormouse community decide that living in my house is more trouble than it's worth.

Every year when they hibernate and go quiet for eight months I have the renewed hope that this time the cats got rid of all of them, but the next spring they wake up and start scratching inside my walls in the middle of the night again. (Not only that's creepy, but it's so loud.)

Anyway, this dormouse, let's call him Alfred. I saw immediately which hole between two stones he'd crawled out of and the first thing I did was to stuff a salt shaker in there to block his escape route. Step 2 was to call for backup—I summoned Morille, and she came down from the living-room 2 seconds later (the cats know it's always good news when I call them to the kitchen while cooking.)

Alfred was panicking.

I grabbed a broom and started threatening him with it like an angry old woman in a cartoon. He tried to flee towards the ladder, but Morille was there. He tried to flee towards the door, but Morille was also there. He tried to hide on top of the fridge, and Morille happily lay siege to it, like my fridge was a Gallic oppidum on top of a hill and Morille was Caesar and his entire army.

Morille was having the time of her life.

But my kitchen door was ajar, and Alfred managed a heroic jump from the top of the fridge to the lintel, like a flying squirrel. He scurried out then grabbed hold of the climbing rose right above the door. When I got out and took this photo, he looked fairly stressed and pessimistic.

I didn't want him to climb the wall all the way to the eaves and go right back into my house, so I went back in to get my broom again, either to make him lose his grip and fall straight into Morille's gaping maw (sorry), or make him run away into the woods (inferior solution; they always find their way back, unless you take them very far away.)

(I used to trap dormice humanely then drive them 3km away to release them near the barn of a neighbour I disliked, but this neighbour has since moved. (Not because of my dormouse warfare, I swear.) There's also an abandoned house in the woods where I used to exile my prisoners, but after a while I started feeling silly driving around the countryside with dormice in the backseat, so I stopped trapping them (it really was a hassle) and just let the cats eat them.)

But Alfred is a combative and resourceful rodent. In the half-minute it took me to go back in and grab my broom, he laid a trap for me.

He ran along the stem of my climbing rose in such a way that his weight made it droop jussst enough to be now hanging at face level rather than above the door. So when I ran outside again with my broom, I was slapped in the face by a thorny rose plant. (For a minute I thought I was crying tears of blood, which seemed worrying, but it was just a scratch above my eye.) (I wish it could leave a tiny scar, so people will ask how I got it, and I will tell them about the mighty dormouse wielding a rose sword.)

I sent these pics to my brother hoping to get some sympathy, and he cropped & desaturated the one with the blood teardrop then sent it back with the comment "you look like an Evanescence song"

By this point I decided Alfred had won this battle. (Not the war, because it's almost autumn aka hibernation time so he probably found another gap between two stones and went right back inside. The war continues.) But this humble dormouse set a Saw trap to poke my eyes out the second I stepped outside my house and I respect that. I admire the way he used his environment to his advantage, and teamed up with my climbing rose to level the playing field (since I had teamed up with my cat first.) He has won the right to spend another winter inside my walls, curled up in my cosy wool insulation, dreaming of dried herbs, thwarted cats, and heroic skydiving from fridgetops.

Well played.

[little-diable]

Catching Stars With Racing Hearts – Tyler Owens (smut)

Some of you may know that there is nothing I love more than a starry sky. So I had to write this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader has been storm chasing with different groups for years, and yet she always finds herself going back to her favourite tornado wrangler. The tornado wrangler who lures her away in the middle of the night to finally go stargazing with the woman he's crushing on.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, outdoor smut, slight spanking and choking, teasing, lots of fluff, two idiots in love

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

The night wrapped itself around her body, letting the soft breeze tease her limbs as (y/n) let her eyes take in the people scattered across the parking lot of the motel. It was a familiar sight, numerous storm chasers came together, forming a group of friends and rivals who were set on chasing the strongest tornadoes for a few weeks. She had been part of this ever growing group for a while, joining different teams whenever she needed a few weeks of distraction, fully focused on her friends and their search for tornadoes. 

(Y/n)’s eyes kept wandering until they spotted an all too familiar truck. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze found his frame, watching him fumble with some of his gear as he sat on top of the truck, letting his feet dangle off the edge. Tyler Owens, the tornado wrangler she had known for longer than she could remember, a man she had instantly been drawn to from the first moment on.

He was a player, a man with a constant smile glued to his lips to woo whoever was crossing paths with him. It was nothing but a game to him, something she had been forced to watch unfold too many times to count, and yet it always felt different when they were together. He had never made a move on her, besides the flirting she craved like a drug she couldn’t stay away from, called to her death in the stormy sea by a siren who knew how to lure her to her end with its mere presence. 

Slowly, (y/n) set into motion, walking towards Tyler and his group with her arms wrapped around her middle, shielding herself from the cold. It took them a moment to notice her approaching frame, letting their eyes snap towards (y/n) the second Boone shouted her name with a grin tugging on his lips. Within seconds she was wrapped up in different hugs, drawing laughs from her as she greeted them all. 

“I was wondering when you’d grace us with your presence, pretty.” Tyler’s voice drew her eyes towards him, looking up at the handsome man. He reached his hand out, luring her closer and up the ladder to find her spot next to him. The scent of his cologne instantly wrapped itself around (y/n), a deadly mixture of rain, leather, and a hint of something reminding her of home, cozying her along as he wrapped one arm around her middle to pull her against his side. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright, excited to see you guys.” She let her eyes flicker back to the others, who seemed to busy themselves with their tasks, offering the two of them an unfamiliar chance to focus on one another. Tyler's lips pressed a kiss to her hairline before he let go of her, letting his hand find its way back to the antenna he fumbled around with. “What have you been up to, Owens?”

“We both know you’re watching our streams, you know exactly what I’ve been doing these past weeks.” With her trembling fingers interlaced in her lap, (y/n) rolled her eyes at Tyler who studied her with a wide smirk. Heat rose up to her face, forcing her eyes away from his for a second to collect herself. 

“You’re so full of yourself, Owens. Your love for yourself keeps growing every time we meet, it's no surprise no tornado got you and your heavy ego yet.” The loud laugh that clawed through Tyler made (y/n) chuckle, relishing in the sight of the happiness he emanated, radiating off him. Her heart struggled to keep up with being around the man, struggling to stay away when he was everything she craved.

“What can I say? We both know I’m the only wrangler you’ll ever be into.” He dipped his head down to press a kiss to her warm cheek before he let go of the antenna. The spot he had touched with his lips was burning, leaving a tingling sensation that distracted her from the way he began to move around. Only as she felt him settle behind her, wrapping his arm around (y/n)’s middle to pull her against his broad chest did she snap out of it again.

Tyler held her caged against him, pulling (y/n) closer while his breath teased her neck, “This okay?”

She could only nod, could only reach for his hand to place hers on top of it, unable to use her words. It wasn’t the first time she was close to him, and yet it was so much more than whatever they had done before, sweet touches that were laced with something she had tried not to overanalyse. Her thumb stroked the back of his hand as he spoke to his team, sharing his food order before ordering for (y/n) too, knowing exactly what she’d like to have without having to ask her.

And all she did was give in, rest against his chest as if the weight of the world was no longer sitting on her shoulders, allowing Tyler to carry it all. A part of her always begged (y/n) to speak up, to confess the longing she felt whenever she was away from him, whenever she was chasing with others but was thinking of being by his side, even when she lay awake late at night with her thoughts set on him. But the stronger part always managed to hold her back, not daring to mess with what they had going on between them.

“Did you find time to go stargazing yet?” Tyler mumbled his words against her ear, making shudders buzz down her spine. Weeks ago she had told him about her wish to go stargazing around this area, needing to seize the chance when they were so far away from bigger lights.

“No, I haven't found any free time.” He only hummed before he pressed a kiss to the spot beneath her ear, leaving her shuddering once again. She wanted to ask Tyler to join her, wanted to spend some more time with him without the others near, but the sight of Lilly and Boone returning with their food stopped the words from rolling off her tongue, held back by her disappointment. 

Tyler kept his arm wrapped around her waist as he reached for the bag Lilly reached out for him to take, pulling (y/n) even closer. Her blood was singing in her ears, silencing her spiralling thoughts that begged her to run, to search the distance once again before she’d get lost in Tyler Owens and everything he was and she could never be. But the way Tyler held onto her all too tightly forced her to hold still as if he was too aware of the way she was close to running from him once again.

……

The sound of somebody knocking on the door of her motel room ripped (y/n) out of her sleep. It took her a second to adjust to the darkness she was engulfed by, looking at the time that read 03:15 while rising to her feet to stumble towards the door. 

“Tyler? What’s going on?” He was leaning against the door frame, eyes wandering down her frame to study the long sleep shirt she wore. Even in her drowsy state he managed to make her feel more alive than ever before, letting the heat of his gaze flush through her veins.

She didn’t anticipate it, didn’t pick up on the way he moved closer to cup her cheek with his big hand. Tyler seemed to give her a moment to pull away should she feel uncomfortable, but all (y/n) did was stare up at him, gasping in surprise the second he crossed the distance between them. His lips fit onto hers all too perfectly, begging hers to move in sync with his as his free hand found her waist to pull (y/n) flush against his front. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” His confession left her chuckling, staying glued to him while he mumbled the words against her tingling lips. 

“That’s all you woke me up for? A kiss that couldn’t wait until mornin-” his lips found hers again to interrupt (y/n)’s teasing. He squeezed her side, drawing a laugh out of her while wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Get dressed, I’m taking you stargazing.” Tyler gave her a soft push back, trying to keep his distance while she stared at him with an almost dreamy gaze. She needed a few breaths to fully function, turning from Tyler to put on her jeans and boots before she allowed him to pull her out of the room and towards his truck. 

Since it was the middle of the night, the moment gave them just enough time to be alone together before the others would wake, set on chasing a new adrenaline high with tornadoes (y/n) would document. Her heart swelled in her chest as she watched Tyler drive them away from the motel, wearing a smile that was softer than all the others – mainly cocky ones – he had worn around her before, offering her a glimpse of the man hiding behind this perfect persona he had crafted over the past years. 

“Thank you for this, Tyler. I don't think I would have actually done this on my own.” She leaned over the middle console to press a kiss to Tyler’s cheek. He didn’t reply, simply let his smile grow into a bright grin while he drove them further through the darkness. (Y/n) had a hard time ripping her gaze from his features, trying to focus on the twinkling stars she had been aching to see. 

The truck came to a halt in the middle of a field, letting the night wrap them in her embrace as they climbed up the ladder moments later. No words were spoken between them, eyes fully focused on the sky that was covered in millions of stars. Her heart was clenching in her chest, struggling to take in this beauty she had been aching to see for a while, not finding the time away to properly sit down for a few hours and simply get lost in this sight. 

Tyler laid down on his back, arms crossed behind his head while he had his eyes focused on her awestruck features. For a moment, she let herself look down at him, unable to bite down her smile. She kept quiet as she laid down next to him, letting Tyler pull her against his chest.

“Will you kiss me again?” (Y/n)’s whispered question got no verbal reply, all Tyler did was dip his head down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, communicating the emotions he struggled to put into words. Without breaking the kiss, she shuffled around to pull herself onto his lap, needing to feel him close. 

Tyler shifted his weight onto his left forearm, while his free hand got tangled in her hair. Her body begged her to search this sensation, to dig deeper and see how far they would take it out here where nobody could see or interrupt them. Longings she had tried to swallow for a while now, unable to shake them whenever Tyler was breathing the same air as she was.

“We gotta stop, pretty, before I can’t stop myself.” His raspy words made her ache for more, needing to hear him speak sinful words she would think of whenever she was alone again and desperate for his touch. 

“Don’t stop, don’t you dare.” (Y/n) mumbled the words against his grinning lips while her hips pressed her closer to him, drawing a groan from Tyler. He stared up at her with piercing eyes, getting lost in the buzzing atmosphere that made them feel as if they were touched by a higher power. 

“You’ll be the death of me, darlin’.” Tyler pulled her in for another kiss, allowing (y/n) to toy with the buckle of his belt. But he didn’t let her get far, catching her hand before she could try to undo it. 

“Climb down.” With confusion pushing through her, (y/n) climbed down the ladder of his truck, watching Tyler follow her moments later. His lips found their way back to hers, drawing a soft moan from her as he guided (y/n) towards the front of the truck. Only as she felt the car press against her back did he pull away, staring down at (y/n) with a smirk that made her thighs tremble. 

“Keep your eyes on the sky.” Tyler turned her around to press her front down on the hood of his truck. He kicked her feet apart before one arm found its way around her waist to undo the button of her jeans. The fabric was pushed down, exposing the sight of her panties covering her ass – a sight so heavenly, Tyler found himself wondering if he had died while chasing and had been sent straight to the pearly gates. 

“Is this the full Tyler Owens experience I hear your fans talk about?” She was riling him up, very well knowing that this moment was just as special to him – and yet (y/n) was aching for more, set on teasing him until he’d snap and treat her like she knew he wanted to. Tyler’s hand squeezed her behind, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks she’d take home like a souvenir reminding her of this very trip.

“Careful, baby, I want to take my time with you, want to do this properly.” His words forced goosebumps to rise on her skin – sensations that were buzzing through her like a wildfire, unable to bite down the unfamiliar heat. Tyler’s fingertips carefully pushed her panties aside, teasing her folds while both let go of a soft groan. 

“You can take your time another day. I need you to fuck me, Owens. I’m growing bored here.” She wasn’t growing bored, hell, she was buzzing with excitement, and yet (y/n) seemed to know exactly which buttons she had to push. With the click of his tongue, Tyler pulled his hand from her aching heat, letting it come down on her ass without a warning moments later. (Y/n)’s surprised moan left him chuckling, fully aware of the power he held over her, no matter how much she tried to tease him, to drag this out even further. 

“Are you sure you can take this, sweet girl? I won’t hold back.” She only moaned his name, hyper focused on all sounds she heard, how he undid his belt, how he seemed to rip open a condom before pushing her damp panties aside once again. And then he pushed into her, forcing her walls to flutter while desperately trying to adjust. 

One of his hands settled on her waist while the other found her throat, pulling her off the hood just enough to let her eyes flicker up to the starry sky. Shaky breaths left (y/n) as she felt Tyler pull out of her, only to push back in seconds later, slowly fucking her while her gaze grew blurred. 

“Fuck, you feel like heaven.” His praises made her walls clench his cock, drawing a raspy groan out of Tyler. With every passing moment, he added more speed to his thrusts, letting his body meet hers to remind them both that this wasn’t just a trick of their brains. They fit together perfectly, in every imaginable way, and even though he’d never say it to others, Tyler knew that he had just found his new favourite adrenaline high, fucking her was everything he had always been searching for. 

“Don’t hold back, please.” (Y/n) was close to sobbing her words. She struggled to focus on the stars, struggled to focus on the sight that made her heart race from all this beauty she couldn’t take in, fully focused on Tyler and the way he fucked her hard. Their sounds bled together, forming a mass of sounds she’d never forget again, moans and groans, skin meeting skin, shaky breaths that told them both how much the other had also longed for this. 

“Who knew it’d be this easy to make you beg for something.” She didn’t need to see him to know that Tyler was wearing a bright smirk, staring down at her while fucking her towards the edge. 

“Who knew that you aren’t just a pretty face with a big ego.” Tyler’s raspy laugh vibrated through her body, pushing her even closer towards the high she could feel climbing up her body. His hand moved to the front of her wet panties, dipping inside to circle her pulsing bundle to give (y/n) the needed push to fall over the edge. 

And then she came, with a moan so powerful she needed a moment to understand it was her who had made that sound. Tyler kept snapping his hips, with just enough speed to push himself closer and closer, high on the feeling of her walls squeezing his cock. (Y/n)’s sight cleared up just in time, allowing her to take in the beautiful spectacle on the sky as Tyler followed her down the edge, letting go with one last raspy moan. 

He pressed a kiss to the spot where her neck met her shoulder before pulling out of her. (Y/n) kept her eyes focused on the sky as they redressed, not noticing how Tyler studied her with a smile. With his hand finding hers, he pulled her into his chest to dip his head down for another breathless kiss. 

“I guess I was wrong.” She furrowed her eyebrows at Tyler’s words, letting her confused gaze wander over his face. “I always thought nothing would give me a high like a tornado can, but I was wrong. This, being here with you, hearing those sweet sounds you make, fuck, it’s my new favourite thing ever, pretty.”

[steddielations]

Steve acts on instinct.

There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.

There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.

They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.

“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.

“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”

Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”

It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”

“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”

Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.

“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.

He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.

It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.

“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”

Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.

“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”

Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.

Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.

“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.

“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.

The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.

He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.

“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”

He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”

“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.

“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”

Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.

“I think I’d definitely remember you.”

Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.

“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”

Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”

“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”

Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”

“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.

Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.

It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.

That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.

Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.

“Everything alright?” Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.

“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”

He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.

Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.

He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.

Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.

“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.

Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.

What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.

At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.

Oh.

He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—

Yeah, just. Oh.

Part 2

[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 :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 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.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.1k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @runahways - @milkteade - @mocha000

@anothershorthuman - @notbeforelong - @darthlunaa

@chogiwapadada - @meowniee - @pandabur666

@just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono - @lovelyhan -

@grilledbananas - @quennlenn - @zezedoesshit

@unlikelysublimekryptonite - @wonwoothinker

nct taglist

@peachyjaemin - @sehunniepot - @shailasthings

thanks to those who interacted with the teaser

@nosungluv - @bbeanetta - @stolasisyourparent

@kundann - @blspphr3 - @heavenly-mobo

@icedearlgreytea - @sourkimchi - @d0nghyck

@bobathi - @sillybeanstrings - @biancaness

@nominsgirl - @thebubsz - @froggyforyoongi

@yeomyeom - @babieculture - @dvalities - @xusbabe

@jaessunflower214 - @pandabur666 - @justwonus-recs

@markgeollie - @binniesbabe - @axo-l0tl

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...

John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you. 

Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”

However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…

More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…

And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants… 

He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6. 

There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.

His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you. 

He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.

He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.

But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.

So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…

You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain… 

It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.

As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.

Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.

You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.

They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.

“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.

“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.

“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.

You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.

You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.

“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen. 

A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.

Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”

Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you. 

“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it. 

It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.

“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call. 

“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.

“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.

“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.

Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.

“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.

“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.

Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.

“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”

“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.

“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.

“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.

It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.

“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.

“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.

“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.

After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.

The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.

“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.

“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.

“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant. 

“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.

“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.

“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.

Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.

The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”

“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.

“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.

“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.

He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…

So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?

Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.

Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.

“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.

The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…

So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.

“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.

You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…

His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.

“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.

A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.

“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.

“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.

The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?

Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.

“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.

“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”

[MASTERLIST]

extra: 500 words-ish

The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen…  “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.

[crumbledcastle28]

Din Djarin: Come and Get Me

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After a job leaves you trapped, you realize how much you have come to trust the legendary Mandalorian.

Excerpt: “Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

Warnings: claustrophobia, panicking, panic attack, crying, so much banter, dinny boy gets *stern, * but only because he is in love hehe.

A/N: happy dincember my people :)

Pedro Masterlist

All my writing

(gif credit to pinterest)

“Why are droids always so angry?”

A deep sigh arose through your comlink.

“Because everyone is always pushing their buttons.”

Silence.

“You’re holding back your laughter.”

“That is absolutely not what is happening,” Din responded, voiced husked with his ever-present exhaustion.

“I can feel it,” you countered. “You are actively killing braincells trying to hold it back.”

“That is not what is killing my braincells,” Din responded, and you gave a dry chuckle back.

“Just get the credits and get out,” Din said, “we have other jobs to do.”

“Yes sir,” you responded sarcastically, pulling down your mask. It was a soft obsidian fabric that covered everything but your eyes.

“Need I remind you it is your fault we are here in the first place?” Din asked, knowing it would push your own button.

Greef had known you since you were a kid, your parents always calling him a “close family friend.” In actuality, your parents were his most profitable bounty hunters, and they had worked with him until they physically couldn’t anymore.

Without hesitation, choosing you take their place.

They had trained you from birth, ingraining into you the strength, cleverness, patience, persistence, and of course the wit needed to be an adequate replacement.

In Greef’s own words, you were “more than adequate.”

You worked for him for over a decade before finally meeting the infamous Mandalorian. His name had been circling for a while before you met him, allowing him to climb the ladder of Greef’s good graces (a particularly slippery ladder, in your opinion), as well as the ladder of wealth. You didn’t mind at first, sticking to the lot of bounties Greef would assign you every month, and minding your business.

That was until this Mandalorian started getting your pick of the lot.

“He’s just as good as you are,” Greef had said to you. “Your skill sets are incredibly complimentary. It is best for me financially to have you both going at once.”

You scoffed into your drink. “Give me a break, smartass. Next thing I know it will ‘best for you financially’ to have us working together.”

“It was a joke, asshole,” you responded to Din. “I’ll admit, not one of my best.”

Din sighed and remained silent. After two dozen jobs together, he had learned how old that jab was becoming.

“Going in now,” you said quietly, pulling out your gun and – as quietly as you could – shooting through the lock on the front door of what had to have been the biggest house you had ever seen. The outside was made with some rare limestone that glimmered in the moonlight which, in your opinion, literally shouted “rob me.” The owners of this house had tricked Greef, running off with the sum of money he had owed you and Din for a previous job (quite convenient, if you said so yourself). Greef agreed to pay you and Din triple your original salary if you got it back for him.

And here you were.

The door squeaked on its hinges as you opened it, revealing a pitch-black living area. You took one step inside, and as you did, a generator must have kicked on, because the room was instantly lit up. You gasped, stepping back in fear of a possible alarm, but as you waited a few seconds, there was no such thing.

“You okay?” Din asked quietly. If you weren’t shitting your pants, you might have teased him for seeming like he actually cared.

“Yeah,” you responded, winded. “Yeah. Fine.”

You looked around the room, jaw falling open slowly as you did. It might as well have been a museum. Paintings, vases, chandeliers, stones, and jewels. You could tell one thing and one thing only.

Whoever these people were, they were fucking loaded.

“Hey, Din,” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“Did Greef say anything about being allowed to steal anything else?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Got it,” you said, and moved further into the house.

“Greef paid some gungan to have dinner with them, so there shouldn’t be anyone in the house.”

“I was at the meeting for this job, Din.”

“I know,” he said, “Just checking.”

His voice was laced with an undertone of…hurt. You didn’t have time to think about that.

“I’m headed to the master bedroom,” you said, weaving your way through objects worth more than you would ever see in ten lifetimes. “I’ll let you know when I find the box.”

“Alright,” Din responded, and you carried on.

You circled the first floor of the house, hemming and hawing at what seemed to be an endless supply of riches.

“Are we focused, Y/N?”

“Lazer,” you responded after almost touching the shiniest blue stone you had ever seen. “Nothing on the first floor.”

“Okay,” Din responded. “How-how you holding up?”

Your eyebrows wrinkled together. “Fine. How about you?”

“I’m good,” he said softly. “Just now realizing we have never done a job like this before. Me only hearing you through the comlink. I’m used to being next to you.”

“Oh, the poor Mandalorian, all alone in the desert, cursed with the job of keeping watch. You missing me big guy?”

“Just missing being faster than you,” he jabbed. “It’s good for my ego.”

“Har har,” you responded, opening the first door you found at the top of the stairs. “You can’t deny I give you a run for your money though.”

“You sure do,” he said, once again laced with emotion. What the fuck was with him?

And why did you keep noticing?

You opened the door and were welcomed by what had to have been the biggest bed you had ever seen in your life. It took up half the room, with the rest of it being looted with more treasures, including plants, shelves of books, and…

…a music box.

“Bingo,” you said.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a game you play for fun,” you responded. “You wouldn’t be familiar with the concept.”

“Very original.”

“I’ll be here all night,” you said with a smirk, and walked to the box. You pulled it off the shelf delicately, feeling the weight of credits in the bottom. You laughed happily, unable to hold it in.

Din laughed too. He understood immediately.

You felt for the seal on the front and began to pull it open carefully. You got it about halfway open before it immediately shut, snapping your fingers into it.

“Mother –” you said, pulling your fingers out and holding them to your chest.

“You okay?” Din asked quickly, almost as soon as the word left your mouth.

“Yeah,” you said, flexing your fingers. You laughed lightly. “I think this house may be out to get me.”

As if you spoke it into existence, all the lights in the house suddenly shut down, soaking you in darkness. Strobe lights of red began to pulse on the ceiling, the door to the bedroom shut automatically, and an ear-piercing alarm permeated the room.

You were suddenly unmoving.

“Y/N?” Din asked, his voice a whisper above the alarms. “Y/N, what is that?”

The box fell from your grip.

“Din…” you said, chest constricting, muscles locking, brain failing. “Din…”

“What’s going on?”

You started shaking your head, making your way to the door slowly. You jiggled the doorknob, then pulled on it, then yanked on it, then threw your body into it.

It was no use. You were locked in from the outside.

“Din, I –” your voice cracked with a sob. “Din, I’m stuck.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded like he was walking.

“I’m-I’m trapped,” you said, sobs now fully escaping from your mouth. “Din I’m trapped. They know I’m here. They’re gonna…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence, hand cupping your mouth as you began to hyperventilate, because suddenly, you were a child again. Put up against one of your parents’ countless tests. Locked in a basement, or a ship, or your own room, forced to find a way out, told that in the real world, if you couldn’t find a way out, you would likely be killed.

You could never pasts their tests. Never.

“Din, they’re gonna kill me.”

“Shut up,” he said firmly. It sounded like he was moving faster. “You’re not gonna die.”

His tone was unconvincing.

“Din,” you cried, tears staining the fabric covering your face, snot soaking through it. Panic was seeping itself into your bones. “Din, what do I do? What do I do?”

“You’ve gotta find a way out.”

“I can’t,” you wheezed, body sliding down the door and onto the floor, the alarms and the red overstimulating your every nerve. “I can’t Din. It’s so loud,”

“Please don’t cry,” you heard him whisper, “please don’t cry, Y/N.”

“Come and get me,” you begged, “Din, please come and get me.”

“The house is likely on total lockdown,” he said. “There’s no way for me to get in.”

This only made you sob harder.

“Please, Din,” you said through gasps of air, “please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he said. It sounded like he was running now. “Not ever, you understand me?”

You nodded, now plugging your ears, and closing your eyes, rocking yourself back and forth subconsciously.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” he said, his voice suddenly nasally. “I swear to the maker I’m going to get you out of there. I just need your help, okay?”

You tried your best to gather breath. “Okay. Okay.”

“Okay,” he said. “I need you to see if there are any windows in the room. Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed, standing on shaking legs, ears still plugged. You squinted as you walked slowly, finally reaching a wall. You then felt the wall with one hand and walked forward until you felt something that resembled glass.

“I-I found one.”

“Good,” he said, sounding peculiarly winded. “Now, I’m going to need you to break it.”

You sobbed once more. “How?”

“Anything. Shoot at it, throw things at it, the fucking music box for all I care. Anything.”

You swallowed again, breathing in as deep of a breath as you could, before pulling out your gun. You felt the glass once again, and slowly backed away from it. You continued to release faint cries as you did, holding up your gun with quivering fingers, before letting blasts fly.

You heard some cracks as they landed against the glass. Once you halted your firing, you made your way back over to it, and realized they weren’t nearly enough.

“I’m going to have to kick it,” you said, some semblance of power returning into your voice.

Din didn’t respond.

You backed away again, breaths still rapid and voice still raw. But you gave that piece of fucking glass your all.

Your foot went right through it, cutting shards into your calf and ankle.

You grunted, falling back into the room.

“You get it?” Din asked, panting.

“Yeah,” you said, clutching your leg. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good. Now stand up.”

You did.

“Walk to the window.”

You did.

“And jump.”

“What?”

“Jump now.”

It was in that moment that you realized that you truly, unequivocally, deeply trusted the Mandalorian. Because you jumped into the dark, cold night, and he caught you, mid-air.

You gasped as you landed in his arms, watching as the ground beneath you whizzed by, eyelids pealed back in awe.

A smooth, gloved hand framed your cheek and pulled your vision upwards, locking it into his visor.

You stared at him, the remnants of tears against the cold wind freezing your face, and yet his hand was the true culprit of your goosebumps.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. The flames from his jet pack illuminating his armor in golds and reds.

You nodded. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, diverting his gaze to stare forward into the night, but keeping his hand pressed against your face.

You would say it was the shock, or the trauma, or the adrenaline pumping through your veins. In reality, all you wanted was comfort – his comfort. You couldn’t stop yourself.

You rested your forehead against the side of his visor and closed your eyes, scooting your body as close to his as possible as the two of you shot through the sky.

“Thank you, Din,” you said, tears escaping you once more. “Thank you.”

Din audibly swallowed, then removed his hand from your cheek and used it to remove your mask, before sliding his hand into the hair at the back of your neck.

“I swore to you I’d get you out of there,” he said, his voice crackly and weak. “I don’t break promises.”

You nodded against his visor, clutching desperately onto the fabric around his neck. He smelled of sweat, metal, and home.

“I’ve got you now,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

Tag list: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

burned-dorito, @tiredbuthappyppy @em---r @just-a-sewer-goblinlin @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanprideerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkylee @stardust-galaxies @c4psicle @joelsflannell @mysun-n-stars@tateelii @darth-voder @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgothh @thesmutslut  @alastorhazbinbin @grincheveryday @reader8679 @cockscombkingdom

@lexloon @pauphs @enjoyyourlatttebitch

@miss-goldenweek

@darling-murdockk @1deadpool266 @queen-nothing-blogg @burnt-dorito @untitledareaa @julialoopeezz @daphne-turner @jediknightjanaa @sasakipspoststs

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

bucky x reader

the one where you get locked out and go a-knocking on your sworn enemy's door in the middle of the night

౨ৎ

"Fuck!" You yelled, for what seemed like the millionth time that night. You should've listened to Wanda and stayed home instead of going to that stupid bar with that guy. Now, you were locked out of your house because you brilliantly left your keys in his car, and he left you when he said he was going to the bathroom.

You'd been out here for a half hour now doing everything you could to get in your house. You tried to pick the lock, break open a window with a rock, everything. You even walked around back and found a half-open window. You had never been more grateful for your forgetfulness. The only problem was that the window was on the second floor, a full twenty feet above where you stood.

It seemed your only option was to ask for help. All you needed was a ladder to climb up to that window, and everything would be just dandy. Sighing you tried to remember who in your neighborhood was actually home, and who'd let you in at- what time was it anyway?

10:45 P.M. Not bad. Nat and Steve were on vacation. Wanda wasn't here. Sam was away on work.

Shit.

The harsh realization struck you square in the chest. Bucky. The man next door. He was your only option in this dire situation. You hated to think of it, but he was your only acquaintance on this street, if you could even call him that.

You stomped over to his house, your very uncomfortably high heels getting sucked into the mud in his garden.

You made it to his door, steeling yourself to knock.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your knuckles rapped heavily on the door.

You stood there a minute, and when he didn't appear, you turned around, ready to walk away. He was probably sleeping, there was no use knocking anyway. Maybe you could just camp outside on your porch and wait for Wanda to get back.

Before you got very far, his deep rasp stopped you in your tracks. "Doll? What the hell are you doing here?" Bucky stood at the door, in all his bleary-eyed glory.

You considered bolting to save yourself the embarrassment.

No, you scolded yourself. You had already disturbed him, so the very least you could do was not stand there like a fool and instead, tell him about your troubles. It couldn't make him hate you any more than he already did.

"Doll?"

You turned around and gave him a small wave.

"Jesus-the hell happened to you? You look awful." You missed the concern in his eyes, only seeing the way they flicked down your body. You were suddenly embarrassed of the sequined dress you had chosen for the night. Not exactly something you wanted your most-hated coworker to see you in.

"Well, thanks," you rolled your eyes. "I- you know if you're just gonna stand there and tell me how bad I look, then forget it." You started to walk away.

"I wasn't- doll, wait. Why'd ya come?" He sounded earnest, almost concerned as he reached out for your wrist and gently grabbed hold of it.

"I- I need your help with something."

"With what?"

"I need help getting inside my house," you whispered, eyes cast downward from the shame that now consumed you.

God, how pathetic was this? Not only did you do the most idiotic thing you possibly could have in your entire adult life, but you went to Bucky of all people for help.

"With what? I can't hear you, c'mon speak up," his tone was commanding, and he sounded slightly irritated. His forehead crinkled, eyebrows scrunching down till his eyes were two thin slits, the blue orbs almost completely disappearing. Great, he was making you say it again.

You lifted your head up, staring into his eyes. The worst of it was over, you had come to Barnes. You spoke clearly, trying not to cringe at how stupid your situation sounded, "I need help getting into my house. Do you have a ladder or something?"

"The hell happened to your keys?"

"D-does it matter?!" You cried, exasperated.

"I- no, no, just come in, it's freezing out here and you look half-dead. And half-naked. Jesus, doll, do you not own anything warm?" Again with the insults. If you weren't desperate you would've showed him what half-dead really looked like.

You walked in after him, and were immediately struck with the realization that you had never been inside his house. And well, it looked...nice. Nicer than you expected for an old grouch like him. Huge murals filled two of the foyer walls, and everything was in pleasant, muted autumnal colors that somehow made him seem almost human.

"So where's the ladd...," you trailed off, realizing he was no longer in sight. Just great, he had left you by yourself immediately after inviting you in.

By this point, you were freezing in your mini dress, and all you really wanted was to just wipe off all your makeup and curl up into a ball of oblivion. Unsure if you were welcome to take a seat while you waited, you stood awkwardly in his foyer, shivering slightly because, of course, he had the thermostat turned all the way down.

"Here," Bucky reappeared suddenly, handing you a soft blanket and pillow.

"W-wait I don't need a place to sleep just the-"

"Look, doll, it's now 11:00 and it's freezing out. Quite frankly, you're insane if you think I'm gonna let you go out there with a ladder to climb into your side window. So, just please shut up, go to the bathroom do whatever you need to do, put on the change of clothes I left you and just go. to. sleep."

Wait change of clothes? Wouldn't they be...his clothes? Why was he being so nice to you, and more concerningly, why did that make you feel warm inside??

"I- okay, thank you," you didn't know what else to say.

Why was he being so nice to you? Where was the Barnes that was condescending? The one that was annoyed by every little thing you did and hated your entire existence?

He led you upstairs to his bathroom where you wiped off your makeup and splashed some water on your face.

Walking out to his bedroom, you found the clothes he laid out for you. An oversized T-shirt you guessed was too small for him and gray sweatpants. They were huge, but oh so soft. They also smelled like him, woodsy with a hint of...was that sandalwood?

You put on his clothes, instantly engulfed in the fabric. You walked downstairs with the blanket and pillow in hand, finding the couch easily enough.

"What're you doing?" Bucky asked, walking into the living room with a mug.

"Going to sleep?" You frowned up at him as you started to position the pillow to your liking.

"I- Jesus, doll, there's an entire bed up there. The hell do you mean you're sleepin' on the couch?"

"It's your house, I'm not taking your bed away too!"

"You're not taking the bed away, just go lie down."

"No, I'll sleep on the couch, it's fine."

"Why are you being stubborn? I'm offering you the bed."

"And I'm declining." You crossed your arms without realizing that you were mirroring the pose he held.

He sighed heavily before asking, "Why don't we both take the bed then, will that make ya feel better?" He sounded as exasperated as you felt and before you knew it, he was ushering you upstairs, grabbing the pillow and blanket he provided you with earlier.

You entered his room and laid down on opposite sides of the bed, which was warm, and so soft. Of course, it smelled like him too. You made a mental note to ask him about his mattress later to get yourself the same one.

"So, uh, how'd you get locked out?" Bucky asked awkwardly, cringing at his attempt to break the silence.

"I left my keys in this guy's car."

"So you didn't ask him for them back?" You felt him turn his head to face you, but you remained staring at the ceiling.

"He drove away before I realized, so yeah."

"Oh, what an ass," he growled.

"Got that right," you chuckled. Then, you stopped yourself. Why did he genuinely sound upset? Was he being protective? No, that was silly. He could care less about you.

You swallowed, turning to face him, welcomed by the sight of his pretty blue eyes and the smirk that would forever adorn his lips.

"Why'd you let me stay?" You finally asked, voicing the question that lingered in your mind.

"Because you'd freeze if you slept out there," he stated plainly.

"Thought you'd enjoy it if that happened," you chortled.

"Eh well- I wouldn't be happy about it. Besides I didn't need that weighing on my conscious all night."

"Mhm," you smiled at him.

"So, what if I told you that I make great pancakes," he scooted closer.

"I would say I'd love some," you said, scooting a bit closer as well. "On one condition."

"What?" You felt his hand rest on your arm, and you let it stay there.

Before you knew it, you were blurting, "Stay here and hold me?"

"Course doll, c'mere."

You snuggled your way up to his chest and felt loving hands run up and down your arms, which then snaked their way down to your waist. He buried his head in your neck, inviting you to rest yours on his chest.

"G'night Bucky."

"G'night doll, sleep well."

You felt a feather-light kiss being pressed to your temple, not quite sure if you had dreamed it all up. In the morning, however, you were greeted with a stack of pancakes in bed...

[lilisettean]

Glittering Scales | Rafayel/Reader

About: You didn't know what to expected when Rafayel texted you to get him bags of ice near midnight. You thought it was for some art piece he was working on and didn't question it. Turns out, it was for something you did not expect. At all.

Pairing: Rafayel/Reader

Notes: Based on that mermen having 2.... you know.... tweet.

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Mating, Monster(?)fucking, Tentacle, No protection, Hints of breeding. Please tell me if I missed something! Also 18+ only please. Enjoy :)

“Rafayel?”

Your voice echoed throughout the empty studio. Normally Rafayel would be here to greet you, be it from the floor or on the ladder he sat on while painting. But today he was nowhere to be found.

A faint splash of water down the hallway alerted you to his presence. With a sigh, you followed the sound, your bare feet breaking the quiet that descended upon the studio. 

‘Is he painting while in the bathtub again?’ You thought as you carried bags of ice under your arms and in your hands. After going radio silent for a week, he texted you out of nowhere, asking you to get him enough ice to last him for a few days. And while you had half a mind to ask him why and where he had been, curiosity got the best of you and you agreed readily.

Another splash brought you out of your thoughts, and you sighed at what sounded to be impatient flicks of his tail against the water.

“Coming! Coming, jeez–”

The sight of Rafayel sitting in the bathtub, his tail hanging out the edge of it, greeted you. Small puddles of water dotted the tiled floor, his phone lay haphazardly on top of the pile of clothes next to the bathtub. Oddly enough, his painting equipment was nowhere to be found. 

Despite having seen his merman form– his original form, you should say, multiple times before, the shimmering blue scales that were on his tail and his skin always enthralled you. And under soft moonlight shining through the full length windows, it looked as though they glowed, drawing you in.

Before you could lift a hand to touch the scales on his tail however, he flicked it, smacking your thigh and dousing your pants with water.

“What took you so long? I am on the verge of death!”

“I had to go around and buy these for you! Why do you need them anyway?” You huffed as you set the bags of ice you bought down to the side. It was almost midnight when his text came and you had to scramble to get at least a few bags for him, lest it wasn’t enough for… whatever he’s doing. The nerve. Pinning him with a stern look, to which he innocently blinked in response, you continued.

“And you don’t get to talk! What took you so long to text me back? You were unreachable for the entire week!”

If it weren’t for the fact that you arrived back in Linkon city mere hours ago, you would’ve gone and visited him as soon as he dropped off the face of the Earth. Rafayel would never go a day without calling you at least once, so when he suddenly did not reply to any of your texts or answer any calls, you knew something was deeply wrong.

Noticing that you were eyeing him critically, he turned away from your gaze, hoping you wouldn’t pick up on anything irregular. But unfortunately for him, you did.

“Are you sick? Why does your face look so red?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned closer to inspect him. You thought it would be impossible for the blush that stained his cheeks to intensify even further, but it did. If anything, it looked like it spread to his ears too.

“Yes– Well, not really but I…” He stuttered, his usual nonchalant demeanor nowhere to be found. To you, it seemed like he was avoiding any sort of eye and skin contact. Interesting.

With a long suffering sigh, he looked towards you again, his eyes pleading. “Please just give me the ice. It’s too hot.”

“Only if you tell me what’s wrong.” You countered, but still tore open the bags anyway. He sighed in contentment the moment the ice came contact with his higher than what should be normal skin temperature. The ice that settled on his skin and his scales would soon melt and you idly wondered if you had to buy more when morning came.

‘There’s a store about 15 minutes away, maybe I should–’ A soft mumble from him interrupted your train of thought. “What did you say?”

Despite you prompting him, it took him another minute before he repeated his words.

“It’s… mating season.”

It took a few more moments before his words registered in your mind. Mating season, he said. What does that have to do with– Oh.

“Oh. And you’re…” Your eyes darted down, not so subtly wondering where his cock would be when in his original form. Nothing out of the ordinary– and was that ironic, saying that there was a merman in front of you ordinary– caught your eye.

To you, anyway. To him, however… 

Rafayel drew in a stuttered breath, desperately grasping at the shards of sanity that were slipping away from him. You being unaware of the details pertaining to merman physiology and mating rituals was making him antsy. He should’ve explained the differences between his original form and his human form a long time ago, yet couldn’t as the otherworldliness of it might scare you off. He knew you wouldn’t run away so easily but that apprehensiveness stayed because what if…?

Despite all of this, he couldn’t help but preen under your appreciation for his scales. Merpeople took great care maintaining their scales, and mermen in particular would show off theirs during mating season to attract attention from their intended.

You, being his intended, who was now perched on the edge of the bathtub, touching and admiring his scales, would be interpreted as acceptance to the mating ritual. But there was no ritual, nor request from him, so it was all null and void. He pointedly ignored the disappointment that seeped into his gut. This was for the best and for your own good, he thought, and yet–

“Do you… want me to help you?” You asked as you traced the edges of his scales, not catching the hitch in his breath when your fingers trailed further and further up his tail.

“I’d rather not. My physiology is not what you’d expect.” 

“And let you sit here for days on end?” 

“...” Rafayel bit his lip. You had a point. The constant neediness brought by his biology made it difficult for him to focus on anything of note. But what if you rejected him once you saw what was in store for you? It would feel like that day all those years ago all over again, when you didn’t remember him despite him spending so much time looking for you.

He shook his head at that. No, he should have more faith in you. And so with much trepidation, he relented. “If you are that determined, I won’t stop you. But…” He trailed off, grabbing your arm and yanked you towards him, causing water to splash out of the bathtub and onto the floor. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“At least let me take my clothes off–”

“No need.” With a snap of his fingers, his flame Evol materialized and he brought the gentle flame to your clothes. And within seconds, every piece of clothing on you burned away, leaving you exposed to the warm summer’s night air. 

“Rafayel!” It always tickled whenever he did that, a fancy trick he liked to use whenever he felt particularly impatient. “How long were you…?”

“Long enough.” He replied, leaning back against the bathtub to let you get used to your new position. You were straddling him, your hips sat upon the upper half of his tail. While the water both of you were submerged in was cold, icy almost, the heat from his body warmed you.

A spot on Rafayel’s tail piqued your curiosity. It was warm and softer to the touch, unlike other places. You reached down to lightly poke at said spot, only for him to hiss in warning. 

Oh. Was that where– Then how–

You prodded that spot for a bit, carefully watching Rafayel’s face while figuring out how his merman form worked. He stared right back at you, his pupils dilated and his lips parted as he watched you with interest.

“Rafayel? Can you give me that ability to breathe underwater for a moment? I want to try something…”

He arched his eyebrow at your sudden request, but didn’t comment. Wordlessly, he pulled you closer and into a kiss, wrapping an arm around your torso while tucking a few stray strands of hair that fell on your face.

A simple, chaste kiss was more than enough to give you the ability needed to breath underwater for an hour. And yet he cannot bring himself to pull away from you. If anything, he cannot stop kissing you, cannot stop his tongue from prying your lips open and pushing against yours. 

It was only when you needed air that you parted from him, albeit reluctantly. Like his, your face was flushed from the heat and the intensity of the kiss, fueling the growing fire that was threatening to take over within him.

Now equipped with the ability you needed, you shuffled away from him and dived under the cold water both of you sat in. Faintly, you could hear him ask what your goal was, but you only grinned in response.

Over water, his scales looked as though they were shimmering, glinting softly under the lights. But seeing them underwater was another story. They looked iridescent, the water around them making them almost dreamlike in its shine. But as pretty as they were, you were on a mission. A mission to see what Rafayel was hiding from you.

You poked the same soft spot that was on the front of his tail, and with a bit of prodding, you found a well hidden slit between his scales.

‘This must be it then.’ You thought as you brushed over the slit, missing the shuddered breath Rafayel had let out. You dipped a finger into the slit, and found something round– the tip, perhaps– poking at your fingertip.

You circled your fingertip around the head, coaxing it to come forward. And slowly, you feel it inch closer and closer to the opening, with warm slick coating your fingertips before dissipating into the water.

Rafayel sighed as you teased the tip of his cock, if he was in his human form he would’ve been fully hard by now. But he was in his original form, his apprehension to your eventual surprise eating at him, causing him to be slower to react. That didn’t stop his neediness to take over though, as he could feel himself getting closer and closer to revealing himself by the minute.

He was about to ask if you were doing alright, until he felt your lips on his slit. He tossed his head back, groaning at your tongue teasing his opening and his tip. He could feel his cock pushing through his slit, widening it and protruding into your more than eager mouth.

You gasped when you tasted his salty, tangy tip in your mouth. While it tasted the same as his human form, the tip was smoother and coated with more precome than you expected.

The similarities between his human form’s cock and his original form ended there, you quickly realized. As soon as more of his cock emerged from his sheath and into your waiting mouth, you felt there were ridges on the side of it. Fleetingly, you wondered as you dragged your tongue across the ribbed sides, whether there were more surprises waiting for you. This cannot be it, right? There had to be more which would explain his visible apprehension.

As soon as that thought ended though, Rafayel suddenly cradled your chin, and coaxed you to resurface. 

Unlike earlier, when he still looked like he had some semblance of control, his stormy purple eyes were now focused, pinning you in place as though you were his prey. The nervousness that was evident before was now gone, replaced with a growing hunger. Hunger that could be only satisfied by having–

“You.” He panted, pulling you closer and closing the too wide gap between you and him. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Merpeople… My people mate for life. There will be no going back after this.” He stated, doing his best to ignore his growing cock poking at your inner thigh. He had to warn you before you walk into uncharted territory, clueless to the repercussions again. While this was not life threatening, like the things you usually run head into first, it was severe enough wherein if you had denied the bond that formed afterwards, it would tear him apart.

“I think we are past that point of no return, no? With all the vows I’ve made to you.” You replied as you tucked away the damp strands of hair that clung to his forehead, pressing a reassuring kiss on his temple. And that was true. The promise you made when you two were children, the vow you made next to the hospital fountain late at night. You promised you would never leave his side, so why would you leave now?

Rafayel laughed in relief, burying his face between your breasts as he clung to you. With the emotional hurdle out of the way, what was left was the more physical hurdle. Unlike before, however, he felt less worried about this one now.

“I hope you are prepared then.” He smiled as he littered quick kisses all over your decollete, inching closer to your neck and then your lips. “Because after this…”

“I will never let you go.”

Rafayel captured your lips with his once more, the kiss slow but all the more passionate. With his worries soothed, he slotted his emerging cock against your mound, wanting you to feel the effect you had on him as you kissed.

It wasn’t long before the kisses turned less than chaste. You gasped as he left open mouthed kisses down your neck, suckling on the skin beneath his lips as he thrusted his cock against you. The bumps on the underside of his shaft rubbed and teased your clit perfectly, and you couldn’t help but return the favor by shifting your hips to his rhythm, making him grow thicker and thicker by the moment.

You had a feeling that his cock wasn’t just ribbed while you grinded against him. You can’t exactly explain why, other than there were parts of his shaft that felt… softer to the touch, despite knowing that he’s turned on beyond relief.

“Rafayel–” 

“Mmh?” He hummed as his mouth left another love bite on your neck, pausing to admire his handiwork.

“Can I… Will you let me see it?” You asked, reaching down to drag a finger across his tip. He shuddered at your touch, and you felt his cock twitch in interest. It seemed that his drive to mate was slowly taking over, as all he could muster was a nod.

With his permission, you tore away from him, giggling when he whined at the loss of contact. You reassured him with a quick kiss to his cheek, and dodge his clingy hands when you retreated. Inhaling one deep, steadying breath, you steeled yourself, and looked down.

Oh. Oh. 

Was that a sight to behold.

Through the clear water, you saw his cock in its full glory. His tip was round, like humans, but that was where the similarities ended. It was flushed dark blue, his cock the same color as his scales. 

You dived underwater again to take a closer look, your curiosity getting the best of you. Immediately, you spot that there were bumps and ridges down the shaft and all the way to the base. His cock both intimidated you, and made your walls clench.

But that wasn’t all.

Curled around his cock was a tentacle shaped like a smaller shaft. Like what it was wrapped around, the tentacle flushed blue and had small lumps on the sides. It was slimmer in comparison, but still as thick as his finger. With avid interest, you reached out to touch it, and was surprised when it unfurled itself and curled around your finger, coaxing you to come closer.

Like a creature under a sea witch’s spell, you inched closer, fascinated by the cock in front you. And before you knew it, you curled your fingers around his base, testing how the bumps felt under your skin by stroking it.

Above the surface, Rafayel gasped as you touched both of his cocks, and groaned when you brought both of them to your lips. He was relieved you accepted the otherworldly nature of them without any hesitation, and were even eager to pleasure him.

With both of his cocks in your mouth, you quickly realized that they, especially the smaller one, leaked more precome than expected, perhaps to make up for the lack of lubrication underwater. The salty taste filled your mouth as you circled your tongue around the larger tip, the smaller one pushing against your tongue and stimulating itself. Its movements made your heat clench at nothing again, and you wondered. How would this feel like if he fucked you now?

Rafayel gathered all your hair that was floating underwater, and held it behind your head. He wanted a clear picture of you sucking on his cocks and by God did he want to thrust himself deep into your mouth at the sight. But he relented. You were still new to this and he rather not risk you choking while underwater.

Pulling away from his cocks, you resurfaced one more to admire them from afar, only to be assaulted by another kiss. 

Rafayel had enough of his mate being so far from his embrace, he needed you in his arms and on his cock, now. Tugging you towards him again, he maneuvered you so that you would be flush against his cocks, making sure you knew what was in store for you moments later.

Unlike last time where he would grind against you however, he reached down to prod your entrance, spreading your folds with his fingers. You expected him to slip his fingers in but instead, a familiar, yet not, sensation crept in, massaging your soft walls.

“You can control it.” You gasped once realization kicked in, staring at him in bewilderment. He merely blinked in response, and nuzzled the crook of your neck.  

“Does that disgust you?” He asked. While you couldn’t see his face, you could feel him tense up, his grip on you unrelenting.

“No! Nothing like that. I was just wondering… What else can it do?” 

At your reassurance, he relaxed and continued to nuzzle your neck, nipping at your skin. “You will have to find out.”

“What–”

He pulled the smaller cock away from your heat, and had it latch onto your clit. You whimpered as he teased your clit, its smooth tip and small bumps running along its side sending pleasurable shivers down your spine.

Rafayel ran a finger up your entrance while you were distracted, and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Right. He needed to drain the water around the both of you before he tried anything. The water would wash all of your juices away otherwise and make this experience entirely uncomfortable for you.

He tugged at the stopper and let the water drain away, leaving just enough water for part of his tail to be soaked in water. As the water level dropped, more and more of your skin was exposed to him; the water droplets that clung onto your skin and slid down your body taunted him. 

With the water gone and out of the way, you could finally see clearly what his cocks looked like above water. And they did not disappoint. 

The amount of precome that dripped out and down his smaller cock was staggering, coating and smearing your clit with every twitch of it. His larger cock was the same as well, precome beaded on the round tip of it before sliding down the ribbed sides, his shaft glistening under the low light. 

“Do you like them?” He asked, parting your dripping folds and slipping a finger inside as his smaller cock busied itself with your clit. Your sweet whimpers made both of his cocks throb, and he couldn’t wait to hear your moans when he pushed both of them inside you.

He added another finger, burying it deeper within you as you rode his fingers, your hips having a mind of its own. You were starting to get used to the two different cocks when suddenly, his smaller cock shifted, resting your clit against a dimpled surface and–

“Mmh–!” You whimpered, the realization of him not only having ridges along his cocks, but also having suckers of all things, hit you with full force. It felt similar to having his mouth sucking on your clit, and you fleetingly wondered what if his smaller cock slipped in and sucked on your walls as well.

As though reading your mind, he stopped teasing your clit with it, and slid it inside you, adding what effectively was another finger into the mix, stretching you and satiating that growing ache to have something inside you.

You moaned as his fingers slipped in and out of you, the juices from your heat and his precome mixing together and dripping out of your core. While his smaller cock wasn’t as sensitive as his bigger one, the sensations of your walls dragging against his bumpy shaft made his cocks twitch. 

The primal drive to mate, to fuck and to breed coursed through his veins. His instincts screamed at him, demanding him to push his neglected cock in you and breed you properly. It was tempting, too tempting, with you bouncing oh so wantonly on his fingers, your hands holding on to the edges of the bathtub to steady yourself. But he held back. 

As much as he wanted you to ride him while he thrusts his hips in sync to your pace– and God did that thought made another bout of precome drip from both of his cocks– he was afraid of what was in store for you. He knew once he was in, those instincts would take over and you would not be able to reason with him until it was over.

He could feel his control slipping with every heartbeat, the lustful haze that was clouding the edges of his mind seeping into the forefront. It was a challenge, a manageable one, until you curled your fingers around his larger cock.

“Nnh–” He groaned, his cock pulsing in your hand as you stroked the underside of it and traced all the bumps it had. It took him a few steadying breaths not to thrust up and rut against your palm. 

Through a clouded haze, you fixated upon the cock in your hands as you rode the other. It was bulging and pulsing at different places, with some parts flushed deeper blue than the others. You didn’t fully comprehend it yet, the question of whether you can take it all plagued your mind. All you knew that whatever this was, you wanted in you. Now.

“...Are you sure?” Rafayel asked breathlessly as you pulled his fingers and his smaller cock out of you and teased the larger cock with your heat. You drawing circles on his tip with your entrance made him pulsate, staining you with more precome. His hands were now on your hips and he had half a mind to just push you down his shaft in one go.

“I won’t stop until I’m done, you know.” He cautioned again, one final warning before those little slivers of sanity that he had disappeared like foam. His smaller cock caressed your dripping folds and held them to the side, allowing him better access when he inevitably sank you down his eager cock.

“I know.” You responded as you lowered yourself down, slowly taking his cock in inch by inch. It was hot and the throbbing ridges rubbed against your soft walls, forcing more juices to flow out of you. You paused midway to let yourself get used to the foreign feeling, and watched him as he tried to keep his face in check.

Your tight warm walls made it increasingly difficult for him to hold back, especially when you clenched tentatively around him. He understood why you stopped halfway, as his larger cock grew thicker at the lower half until flaring out at the base. But he felt like you were teasing him at this point, with you dragging the upper half of his cock out and pushing it back in over and over again.

“Darling…” He hissed as you rode him, his grip on your hips vice like. Following your lead, he shallowly pumped his larger cock in and out of you, in tune to the pace you’ve set.

The bumps on the side of his cock grazed your clit with every thrust, and before you knew it, you began to take more and more of him in, your folds spread further and further apart with the help of his smaller cock.

The urge to pull back and slam his hips into you the moment you finally, finally, took the entirety of his larger cock in was overwhelming. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp, stuttering breath.

He was fighting a losing battle against his primal instincts, but he had to hold back or–

“Do it.”

Your voice broke through the lust ridden fog that clouded his mind. Did you just give him permission–

“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” You said again, nuzzling the top of his head and patting it. He was tense against you this entire time, strained and a heartbeat away from snapping. You knew he had been waiting for you to be ready, and you couldn’t help but smile at that. 

Coaxing him to finally let go of whatever inhibitions he had, you clenched your walls around him once more, forcing a quiet moan out of him. “Please Rafayel… Please fuck me.”

And like a light switch flipping, he dragged his larger cock out without warning, only giving you a second to process before slamming back into you. Every thrust filled you to the brim, and you could feel his hot precome leaking and spreading all over your walls as he thrusted.

“Rafayel– Mmh–” You moaned between open mouthed kisses, his lips capturing yours every time you managed to slip away. One of his hands held you in place as he fucked upwards into you, while the other palmed at your breast, tweaking and brushing over your nipple as your breasts bounced to the pace he had set. You had to wrap your arms around his shoulders then, or else you would’ve toppled at the sheer intensity of his thrusts.

At some point, when you cannot pinpoint exactly anymore, his smaller cock pulled away from your folds and prodded your entrance, slipping inside and pushing against your tight heat. The sudden intrusion forced your half lidded eyes open, and before you could mention it, the suckers dotted on the underside of his smaller cock grazed your walls, gently sucking on you from the inside.

Rafayel listened attentively to your moans as he sucked on the skin of your neck, leaving numerous bites and markings on you. His rational mind was now gone, replaced by his need to pleasure and breed his beautiful mate. He nuzzled your neck once more, your lovely moans encouraging him to keep going, spurring him on.

The steady tension that was building within your abdomen threatened to snap with every heartbeat, and you could feel yourself being close, so close, to that high that Rafayel was pushing you towards. You couldn’t help but move your hips along to his erratic rhythm, anything to get yourself closer to that point.

As though sensing your desperation, which was not difficult considering your walls fluttered more and more around him, clenching and squeezing him oh so sinfully, he pulled his smaller cock out of your heat and grinded the underside of it against your clit.

“Rafayel–!” The sensation of his suckers pulling at your clit drove you over the edge. Like a coil snapping under pressure, your heat tightened around his cock as you reached that high, clenching and spasming around it.

“My mate…” He breathed out, not once stopping to give you a break as you navigated through the pleasure he brought to you. The way your walls clasped around him as you were pushed over the edge brought his own high forward, forcing a growl past his lips as he suddenly pushed both of his cocks as deep as he could within you before letting his come spill over, releasing as much as he could inside you. 

He didn’t stop there however, he continued to pump his cocks deep into you, hoping to push his essence deeper inside with a few more unsteady thrusts.

As you paused to regain your breath, he pulled away from your neck and brushed the hair that fell messily on your face away, and kissed you as tenderly as possible. 

He looked calmer now, content even, compared to how he was before. The tension that was present on his shoulders and eyebrows was gone, dissipated along with the apprehension that he had about showing you the entirety of his original form.

A sudden glint in the corner caught your eye. It was your phone, its screen turning on most likely because of someone texting you. Next to it was your belongings and–

Oh. You forgot about the ice.

“You should’ve told me this was going to happen instead of making me buy ice for you.” You laughed, seeing that the bags of ice had now turned into bags of water with ice chips in it. They weren’t that expensive so you didn’t really mind, but the time you spent scouring shops that were still open close to midnight was now rendered unnecessary.

Rafayel kissed your cheek and nuzzled you, still basking in the afterglow under the moonlight. “...I was scared you would reject me.” He confessed, still clinging onto you like a lifeline. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

You were about to ask how he would do that when you were acutely reminded of his cocks still being inside you, still stiff and ready for another round.

“How–”

“It is mating season after all.” He simply replied, and you noted that his eyes suddenly had a predatory glint to them, making your heat clench again and your heart race. 

“You, my darling mate… are going nowhere.”

[junicult]

!! showering w the bachelors for the first time

contains ; mostly fluff. fem!farmer. some suggestive parts. making out. newly established relationships. nsfw in sebastian’s, implied in shane’s & alex’s. afab!farmer. brief mention of fingering. not proofread, will later.

note ; i intended for this to be entirely sfw i swear

harvey.

- the honeymoon phase.

- where he doesn’t even live with you, yet he’s at your house nearly every night, or sometimes vise versa.

- when he uses your stove (with permission) to make you both dinner to share after you’ve finished work.

- where you’re still so in love all you wanna do is gaze into each others eyes and kiss until you can’t breathe.

- that’s exactly what kind of phase you’re in.

- and it’s been a long time since he’s been in that phase.

- you sorta have a whole routine atp.

- whenever he comes over, you make it a plan to wrap up work quickly & spend the evening with him,

- which is why you felt so guilty when you lost track of time, backpack full of rocks and geodes you couldn’t wait for clint to break open the next morning.

- when you glanced down at your watch, you nearly jumped ten feet in the air like a cartoon lmfao

- and you’ll definitely regret running up the ladder one level before you reached another button on the elevator—but right now, you weren’t even focused on that.

- by the time you made it back to your house, a mere two hours after you told harvey you’d be back, it was pitch-black outside.

- thankfully, he didn’t leave. instead, he stood scrubbing the dishes clean, before whipping around at the sudden swing of your front door.

- “harvey! i’m so sorry, i lost track of ti—“

- “oh thank yoba you’re okay,” he sighs, (u already know he wanted to call someone to check up on u but he didn’t want to seem controlling😭😭)

- and he didn’t waste a second to meet you at the door, scanning you just to see if you were injured.

- “i’m fine, i’m fine, just got way too distracted. did you make dinner? did you have to eat alone?? oh, i’m so so sorry i didn’t mean to—“

- ur word vomit is making him fall in love with you even more. two peas in a pod🫶🫶

- then it’s just back and forth of you constantly questioning and reassuring each other for a few moments.

- “but you made such a nice meal for me, and i kept you waiting, i just—i’m so sorry—“

- “sweetheart, it’s okay, i’m not mad,” he almost chuckles, holding you close.

- as soon as he established you’re not hurt or injured, he’s no longer stressed.

- he understands what it’s like getting carried away at work, so who is he to ever be mad at you for that?

- after you ate and assured him you were fine, that’s when you mentioned it.

- “i’m pretty dirty from the mines, i was gonna shower. make up for lost time with me?”

- his mind doesn’t inherently go to sexual things.

- honestly, he was just excited you wanted to.

- he also doesn’t give a fuck that he took a shower earlier. he just wants to spend time with you lol.

- although ik he’s all organized and has like a little routine where you both keep taking turns under the spray LMFAO

- like you get in first, rinse yourself off, then switch with him while you soap yourself up, switch & rinse, switch and apply shampoo, switch, etc, you get it.

- it’s so fucking funny LMAO.

- but the entire time you’re making casual conversation, some little comments about how much you missed each other, things like that.

- he loves how you look in the shower. not even bc ur naked, it’s just a vulnerable way to see the person you love, and there’s nothing sexual in the way he’s looking at you.

- even when you tug on his neck to pull him down for a kiss, he’s just swooning over your affections.

- unless the implication, or intention of sex came before the shower…he’s probably not approaching anything with that.

- it’s a completely different story if you’ve had a ton of tension all day,

- constantly making passing remarks that make his palms sweat, but unable to go any further because of your busy day,

- and you leave him all hot and bothered until you come home in the evening, and ask him to join you in the shower.

- that’s when he forgets all about the little routine.

sam.

- ah, the start to ur most important routine.

- honestly, i feel like you were the one who started it all.

- the whole, “every time you shower, we shower together” thing.

- at least, that’s what it becomes once you move in together. but before that, anytime he was over & you needed to shower, he’d totally join in.

- it’s not even sexual. there’s only like a 30% chance you’ll end up having sex, or even just do foreplay whenever you shower together.

- he’s just so clingy, and he craves the closeness after he realized how much he enjoyed you being there the first time.

- you both were quietly laying together, watching the tv wordlessly, just enjoying each others company after you two decided he should spend the night.

- which then prompted in him asking, “do you think i could use the shower? i smell bad.” he frowns after taking a whiff of his arm.

- you giggle. “i think you smell good, but go ahead. i don’t have your soap, though.”

- like he could care lmfao.

- “thanks!” he just grins, hopping on his feet and giving you a little kiss on the forehead before he skips off.

- you give it like 5 minutes before you decide u miss him too much (attachment issues😞)

- “sam…y’think you got room for two in there?” you knock before creeping the door open.

- he peeks his shampoo’d head from behind the shower curtain. “you wanna come in?”

- “is that okay?”

- u might’ve just asked him to marry you.

- his whole face lights up, grinning wide and opening the curtain wider as he steps to the side. “the more the merrier!”

- he doesn’t even care ur naked. there’s nothing sexual running through his mind, he’s just excited you’re standing with him rn. now he doesn’t have to rush to go see you.

- he even steps to the side to give you the chance to soak your hair under the spray.

- it’s easily just a little awkward at first.

- you’ve had sex before, that’s not why it’s awkward,

- only because it’s the first time you two are seeing each other completely naked without any intention of sexual advancement. not that it would be such a burden if you did, but neither of you want to.

- while you drench your hair, he can’t help but smile lovingly at the sight of water droplets all over your skin.

- he could easily be thinking about how much fun it’d be to have sex right here, but he’s too focused on how this might actually be his favorite thing you’ve ever done together.

- like minutes of silence pass, nothing but the water running and he’ll just lean in and press a kiss on your temple or shoulder.

- it’s not bc he’s trying to hint at something,

- he just wanted to do it, and he doesn’t really overthink the things he wants to do.

- but the affection makes you smile, and by how pure it was, it doesn’t send any false messages.

- it really doesn’t last that long. probably about 15 minutes of you both washing off and short displays of affection.

- yet it clung to you both so well, that it just became the routine you never skipped out on.

shane.

- it definitely just happened naturally.

- ur relationship at first was strictly sexual.

- to the rest of the town, no one even knew you guys even spoke. which, to be fair, there wasn’t much talking between u two anyways💀💀

- but i wanna say that was only for a couple weeks.

- it was still super slow and progressive. your conversations went from short & passing, to getting to know each other a little more. but the sex was still there.

- it went from instead of him leaving right after you finished, you’d stay up and talk for a couple hours.

- to waking up together, to spending the day together, etc etc.

- now ur relationship was approaching friends w benefits category. except it was unspoken, but neither of you wanted to be friends at this point.

- despite all of this, you’ve still never showered together.

- until you spent the whole day working outside. you feel gross, sticky, and sweaty. he just so happened to stick around after you started working.

- ur checking in on your animals he just follows you lol.

- before u both knew it, the sun was coming down and he spent the whole day helping you.

- the thing was, neither of you wanted to mention it. you were both nervous even bringing it up would spark the implication of wanting him to leave.

- which was not the case.

- not to mention, he’s a huge help. when u passed him ur axe to chop down trees, you almost couldn’t look away 🤷‍♀️

- so after you’ve finished, sun starting to set and sweat dripping from your temples—he’s still standing with you.

- “i feel gross, i’m gonna shower.” you frown, plucking your clothes away from your sticky skin.

- ofc he’s thinking it.

- but he doesn’t have time to make a sly comment before you shoot one over your shoulder, “there’s room for two, y’know.”

- say no more, he’s following close behind you throwing off his shirt.

- “thought you said there was room for two, there’s hardly room for one.” he snorts, squeezing himself beside you in the cramped space.

- “oh c’mon, you’ve never had a problem with making it fit.”

- he’s gonna lose his mind.

- u don’t really waste any time LMFAO

- drenching your hair under the spray before you look over at him,

- and you both just lean in cus it’s unspoken, but obvious you guys aren’t in there just to shower.

- he’s quick to slotting his hands at the small of your back, while you wrap yours around his neck and press yourself against him.

- …not much showering gets done, i’ll just say that.

sebastian.

- i feel like sebastian spends more nights at your house then he does at his own at this point.

- he’s not the type to get super attached very easily, even getting to the step of sleeping together took a while.

- but after it happened, he found your little cottage so comfortable. he liked waking up to you in the morning, and falling asleep in your arms at night.

- the only reason he goes home is to work.

- and the minute he finishes up, he heads back over.

- honestly, if he could pack up his computer and leave it at your house, then he’d never leave—which is probably why you made it clear he can’t do that.

- your relationship is already committed.

- i don’t really think he’d wanna sleep with you if hadn’t discussed a romantic relationship.

- anyways, i feel like bc of this, he’s already showered at your place lol.

- you were too busy to ask, and he knew you wouldn’t mind, so he just jumped in and took a quick shower.

- hours after you already started your chores for the day, he woke up & just sniffed his shirt and winced a little.

- he also did some laundry (for your sake).

- so then it kinda just became a, “hey, do you mind if i take a quick shower?” while you were preoccupied.

- sometimes you’d be the one to ask. like if you were lying together, on your bed in your house, you’d turn to him and say the same thing.

- it never rly occurred to either of u that you could knock out two birds with one stone🤷‍♀️

- one evening you were exhausted. you smelled horrible, you could already tell. you had spent nearly the entire day down in the mines, just covered in dirt and rubble, stinking like sweat yet he still kissed you when you came in.

- “i need to shower,” you groan, still accepting his kiss.

- ugh but he’s already spent the majority of the day without you, why are you going to deprive him of more?

- “i think you smell fine,” he tries his best to persuade, but you won’t budge.

- pressing against his chest, you giggle, “you know that’s not true. i’ll only be a few minutes, promise.”

- he’s honestly so clingy, literally tugging on your arm as you try to walk away and following behind you like a lost puppy.

- and suddenly, “i could use a shower too…” despite him using it earlier.

- you look at him for a second, narrowing your eyes, before you tease, “yeah, you could.”

- he’s much like sam, just less openly enthusiastic.

- when you tell him to get the water running, he’s only nodding, but it’s not hard to miss the way he’s turning to start the water so quick.

- and how he’s undressing like he has somewhere to be, despite presenting so nonchalant about it.

- for him, it’s just a better reason to be so close to you. he likes when you’re around.

- it really depends on how much he was missing you, but for the most part i don’t think it ever leads to anything sexual.

- sure, he stands back to let you rinse yourself off and his eyes wander, but that’s about as much that’ll happen if neither of you are in the mood.

- and even then, if you end up wanting to have sex, it hardly ever happens in the shower. most is just foreplay.

- which he is never opposed to.

- i’ve said it once, i’ll say it a million more times,

- he lovesss fingering you.

- and lowkey, if you’re intending on having sex and starting with foreplay in the shower…phew.

- gently pressing you against the shower wall, the water running all down his back but he doesn’t even care,

- and his lips are making out with yours, which are sloppy in response while his fingers press against that spot inside of you that has your neck craning and moans spilling…

- that’s what he wants when he’s been missing you and joins you in the shower.

alex.

- i actually think he’s similar to sam too.

- he’s a huge fan of showering together.

- for starters, he’s the kind of man who makes himself at home very quickly💀💀

- even when you guys weren’t even dating yet, still just in that getting to know each other and hanging out regularly phase.

- when you’d plan for him to come over once you finished up work and spend time w each other casually.

- the cocky side of him just took your hospitality as flirting.

- which, i mean, isn’t unbelievably far off. you do like him.

- but it was probably like his second time over at your house, and he just casually asked if he could take a shower.

- you might’ve raised an eyebrow, but you still said sure.

- so then it became a pretty normal thing. he never took longer then 10 minutes, so you could appreciate that.

- after you both started dating, and had seen each other naked, it became much more casual.

- the transition between not showering together, to showering together was so subtle.

- it just started with you showering, and he needed to pee so he’d just come in and, well, pee.

- then he’d be showering but you still needed to brush your teeth and do your skincare, so you hung out in the bathroom.

- and pretty soon it was so normal that when you asked if he wanted to join you one evening—you didn’t even think much of it.

- it wasn’t until you were midway through washing your body when you realized he was doing the same thing beside you.

- it was just like a, ‘oh, okay, this is normal now’ kind of realization.

- “can you pass me the shampoo?” like he was asking for the salt at the dinner table.

- it just felt natural, especially after he moved in.

- it became a thing you both do together.

- literally a part of your nightly routine. when you were ready to shower, you’d let him know and he’d start the water while you got undressed.

- so since it was your nightly routine, i feel like the longer you’re together, showering together and having sex doesn’t really pair up.

- you shower 9/10 times together. there’s no way you’d be able to keep up (he can tho lol)

- but that doesn’t mean it’s rare.

- he loves looking at you when you’re naked. no shame.

- there could be zero sexual energy between you two at the moment, and he’s still looking you up and down, admiring.

- he can’t help it! he doesn’t even have to be turned on for his body to react to yours.

- “are you hard right now?” you laugh almost like you’re making fun of him.

- and his response will always be, “well duh,” because you just have that affect on him.

elliott.

- another man that loves to shower with you.

- well…yes he likes to shower together, but he’s definitely a bigger fan of bathing together.

- i’ll get to that in a minute.

- your relationship progressed very steadily. it wasn’t until after a few dates when you actually slept together.

- once you had sex though, i feel like it opened you up into being much more comfortable around each other.

- spending time constantly, always inviting him over, allowing him to see you in more vulnerable ways like in your pj’s or all dirty.

- he approached the idea first, i feel like.

- you’ve been having a stressful week, working nearly every hour you were awake, and you had complained about it prior.

- so he just wanted to help you relax, setting up a nice bath with candles and bath salts and anything to help you relax.

- he’s so sweet about it too, not even intending on joining you until you clasped your hands together and asked him to.

- “join me, please. i’ve hardly seen you all week.”

- and he’s all ears.

- sitting in the opposite end, either sitting in peaceful silence or listening to you recap your day.

- i lowkey think he’d bathe you LMFAO

- like hear me out, he’s offering to wash your hair and he’s all delicate with it, giving you a whole head massage and dipping a cup of water to rinse it out.

- kissing your neck and shoulders, pampering you while you don’t even care to protest.

- and even if you did, he wouldn’t allow it. not when you’re all he wants to focus on right now.

- and despite him loving to bathe with you, i feel like his shower routine is so intensive and meticulous that it’s not often you shower together.

- he never minds your company, i promise you that.

- i just firmly believe he’s a morning showerer and you don’t really have the time for that in the morning.

- if you were to ask for him to join you, i don’t think he’d turn you down. he’d just stand away from the spray and tie his hair back so it doesn’t get wet LOL

- but he’s all for spending as much time as he can get with you.

[temporaryrose200]

✩My Soon-to-be husband✩

✟pairing: Claude X Fem Reader

✟genre: Yandere

✟warning: Yandere, mention of murder, keeping someone under their own will.

✟scenario

✟fandom: Who Made Me A Princess

✟summary: Weeks of searching for a way back to you world was becoming was becoming slimmer and slimmer. A week before your wedding day, Claude calls for you.

✟a/n: This is another part to this headcanon I made a while back. If you haven’t read part one, you should!:)

Narrow eyes scanned the bookshelves of the palace library, desperately trying to find a book. A book of magic to be precise. Having only been staying at the palace for a month now, you had been desperately trying to find some way back to your world. In only a week, you would married to that demon man, Claude. As soon as you arrived to the palace that day, Claude had wanted the wedding to take place the next day, obviously scared about this information, you begged the emperor to wait a month or so to at least let you settle. After a bit of persuading, he finally agreed, unknowingly giving you time to find a way out of this nightmare. But as days passed, escaping began to feel hopeless.

Picking up one of the many books on the shelf, you quickly skimmed through, eyes searching for certain words. Like many other times though, nothing came up and with a frustrated sigh, you closed the book and stuffed it back onto the shelf. Having been in this library every chance you got, you had nearly been through every single spell book the palace had to offer and nothing came up!

Hearing the sound of the door opening, heavy footsteps followed suit, you had a slight inkling feeling who it was. “What is it now Felix?” You questioned, eyes continuing to scan the dark oak shelf. The tall crimson red-haired guard was either here for two reasons. Reason one: To check up on you and see if you haven’t escaped or planning an escape, and then reason two: To call for you…

A shudder went down your spine at the thought of seeing that cold-hearted emperor, praying to the gods for it to be the first option. “I apologise for disturbing you Miss [name], but his highness has summoned you” Felix spoke softly. Glaring down at your clenched fist, you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Claude didn’t care if he had to order someone to drag you to him, as long as you’re brought to him without a single scratch on your body. And he will check. So not wanting to put another poor guard through what happened the last time you refused, you obligated. Carefully stepping down the ladder steps, Felix under you making sure you don’t accidentally fall. Reaching the final step, the redheaded guard with a firm grip on your wrist, guided you down. Feet now on the ground, you and the Royal guard made your way out of the comfort of the library to the vicious lion’s den.

Following slowly behind with Felix leading the way, you could feel the eyes of passing servants go by, pity filled in their eyes. You tried to ignore them, but soon it became impossible when they began mumbling to one another. Muttering softly about the “disappearance” of your maid. But you know, everyone knows that she didn’t disappear! It was Claude who murdered that poor girl…

Finally stopping in front of a pair of white doors, Felix stepped forward and knocked lightly but still louder enough for someone to hear. It was dead quiet, nobody answered and you let out a relieved sigh. Felix knocked again, this time louder, waiting for some kind of response. You tried hiding your excitement, you really did but it was too damn hard. You didn’t have to see that monster. Backing away from Felix, you gave the redhead a shrug with a fake pout. “Aww, looks like he’s not in.” The pout then morphed into a giddy expression and you waved over to the confused guard. “Well, see you.”

About to dash off, Felix grabbed your wrist, lightly pulling you toward him. “He could just be sleeping” Felix reminded. Placing a hand on the door handle, the man opened it. Your breath hitched and you cringed watching the door eerily open, reminding you of the horror movie you used to watch before you were trapped in this nightmare of a world. Eyes pleaded for Felix to let you go back to the library, you would have got on your hands and knees if it wasn’t for the royal guard pushing you into the dimly lit room. “You’re his fiancée, I don’t think he would mind if you woke him up and anyway, he did ask for you.” And with that the oblivious man closed the door, leaving you all alone inside the lion’s den.

Thoughts plagued your head, eyes scanning the room for any sign of Claude. Checking the comfy plush bed of your soon-to-be husband, you see no Claude. Wanting to believe that he had more pressing matters to attend to, you knew that hope was just a pipe dream. Even if his kingdom was on the brink of war, the emperor would still make time for you, and probably (definitely) even start a war for you. It horrifies you to the core to think a man like him could be that obsessed with someone. A man who killed his own flesh and blood…

E/C eyes landed on a nearby figure laying peacefully on an elegant white and golden couch. Approaching the man you would find yourself captivated by the sight. Even if he was a horrible man, you do have to admit that Claude was breathtaking to look at, though you would never say that out loud. A bit of his golden locks lay against his face, covering his soft smooth face. You don’t know what compelled you to do this next thing, moving a hand towards him, you push a few locks of hair away from his face and behind his ear. In this state, he looks peaceful. You found it weirdly cute, making you forget all the bad stuff he’s done to you and the people around him. An emperor that would kill thousands in your name now reminded you of a sleeping child. But soon that would change. Not wanting to disturb him, you pushed yourself up and as you were about to move away, a hand grabbed your arm with a tight squeeze. “Where do you think you’re going?” A chill went down your spine and you mentally cursed at yourself. How long had he been awake, was he really asleep or was it some sort of trick?!

The tight grip on your wrist would surely leave a bruise. Stuttering out a response, you tried coming up with something to get you got off this shitty situation. “Umm, W-well you see…I um-“ Becoming pissed with all this stuttering and stumping, Claude rolled his diamond eyes pulling you onto him. Falling onto his chest, an arm slithered around your waist. You knew fighting him would be futile and it would only anger him, so you stayed, your head resting against his chest, hearing the light thumps of the emperor’s heartbeat. Tears welling up In your beautiful E/C eyes, sobs escaped from your mouth and salty tears stained the blonde clothes. Was this your life, to be the wife of this monster? You had a second chance at life, which not many people had and it was already going down the gutter.

Claude on the other hand ignored your cries, instead, he imagined a perfect life with you. Just the two of you together forever, maybe even a child, if Claude was kind enough to share you. Who knows what the future will hold…

[chaosandmarigolds]

Festival

based on this AMAZING ask!!

“Oi, Olls,” Simon looks down at the skinned arm and then back to the utterly unaffected five-year-old (who just took a rather nasty tumble off the slide). It was an easy back day at the county fair, which for the record he thought was a horrible idea with a five-month old yet Johnny said it would be fun for Oliver and his niece, Jane. Simon tried to get a good look at the wound, covered in dirt and pebbles, “Lad lemme-”

“Dad-dad, I got go- Janie! Wait up!” Oliver snipped in reply, pulling his arm away and trying to take off after his new friend, and he succeeded, taking off to the next ride wait line- where Jane was already standing among the groups of children and teens with the bright red balloon tied to her wrist. 

Of course, he watched the boy run through the crowds and only stood to direct his gaze to Johnny as he stood up, not saying anything but trying to see past the groups to get a good look at the kids- but he could see the red balloon. 

“Think the girls are havin fun?” Johnny asked, leaning onto the stroller. 

To that Simon shrugged looking down to Tess, who was thankfully very much asleep amidst the loud noises, “‘m sure they are.” 

“Shoppin, wine tasting annnn,” Johnny faltered as he thought, looking to the sky as Simon knelt down to fix the baby blanket. Though it was loud and the crowds were bustling it still had a sense of peace about it, small town, small fair but it was enough to make the two kids feel as if they were teleported to the best place on the planet. “An’- gah, Sarah said somethin else, can’t ‘member what though.” 

“Jus gettin dolled up or somethin,” Simon mumbled under his breath and then placed a chaste kiss against the baby’s forehead before standing up to his full height, looking around for the same bright red balloon. 

Only…the balloon was floating away. 

It took about five strides to get from where he had been to the line where Olly and Jane were supposed to be, yet there was a stunning lack of them both. 

He must have called the kid's names twice before Johnny had caught on to what was going on, yet the only thing Simon could think of doing was telling him to go get security, he asked the people if they had seen them- his voice harsh and causing the looks on the parent's face’s to pale. 

He couldn’t find them. 

No one seemed to even see them. 

“A little boy- he’s missin his front tooth, striped shirt with a dinosaur on it.”

   “I’m sorry man, that sounds like every kid I’ve seen today.” 

… 

“Jane,” Ollie said slowly following his friend reluctantly through the corridors of the ‘haunted house’ which they had snuck in through the back, since there was a thirteen-plus age restriction on the attraction, “Janie I reaaaalllly don’t think this is good idea.” 

To that the four-year-old frowns, her pigtails swinging as she looks at him, the blue light and fog doing nothing to ease his fears, “Uncle Johnny always say we got face fears! An you said you are scared of the scary ghosts.”

“Scary is literally in name, Janie!” Ollie countered crossing his arms, “Uncle Johnny and my dad are gonna be mad.” 

Jane shook her head, clawing up on the ladder to reach the main level, “Uncle Johnny doesn’t get mad at me, mum said it’s cus ‘m cute…Uncle Simon might get mad though.” 

Ollie frowned from his spot, looking up at her as she began to disappear from the view, he couldn’t leave her alone, he was older than her and his dad did ask him to look over her. So, he swallowed down his fear and followed behind her, the steam and fog making it a bit hard to see for a moment before he was able to stand up again- the lights dim and red and the floor underneath them seemed to be uneasy, red liquid smeared along the rotted wood and the low groan of something was enough to make him want to cry. 

However Janie was walking forward, so he quickly followed, moving to walk just a bit in front of her- grabbing her hand and doing his best to act brave when in reality he was not. 

Ollie stopped walking when they heard a voice from behind, and he turned to look around for a split second, only for Jane to let out a shrill scream and he turned his head to look ahead again- to only mimic her scream. Shoving her behind himself as what seemed to be a literal monster jumped from behind a barrel. 

“Oh SHIT! CUT IT!!” 

A voice suddenly yelled, and then the monster ripped off the mask, revealing a normal-looking kid, probably sixteen, “Whoa-hey-hey, you guys- JERRY FUCKIN CUT THE LIGHTS.” The kid screamed at the ceiling for a moment for the overhead lights to flicker back on and the noises stopped. 

“Hey,” The kid knelt down to look at the now sobbing children, “Hey, my name is Kyle. How’d ya-oh cmon…it’s okay, I’m not scary.” 

“You-you ghost!” Ollie screamed. 

“No! No, it’s just a costume, ya know on how on halloween you dress up? I’m jus dressing up, I’m not gonna-oh okay, you’re crying…again, okay…” Kyle tried to explain, then looking to his coworker, Margo who was dressed as a zombie, utterly hopeless about the now two screaming and sobbing toddlers.

…

“Called security,” Margo huffs out as she sits down to look at the toddlers, who were much more relaxed once they offered slushies, and she looks to Kyle, “They said two creepy guys said they lost their kids but thought they were lyin.” 

Kyle frowns and leans back in his chair after he and Margo had made a lazy attempt at cleaning off their makeup and explained to the kids it seemed to calm them down, plus the slushies of course. “Hey kiddo, can you tell me your name? So the nice people-

“My dad says to not talk to strangers.” 

Margo gives the kid a look and leans forward on the table, “He’s smart, that’s smart- but we need to-” 

“Margo-” 

“OLIVER.” 

It would be an understatement to say Kyle and Margo picked those kids up within a millisecond, because what they saw were two men that could break them both in half within a second and who did not look like father material walking towards them. 

“That’s my kid.” One of them barked out, pointing to the little boy, who was just happily sipping his slushy. 

Kyle scoffs, “And I’m the fucking king of England.”

To that Margo tried to then play damage control, “Listen, I don’t want to have to call sec-” 

“Uncle Johnny we saw scary ghost!!” The little girl exclaimed happily. 

“See? That’s my niece and the boys mine. Give me my kid.”

Margo and Kyle exchanged looks and then looked to the little boy, who only caught on when he saw the man’s look and he nodded eagerly, messy hair falling in front of his face. 

“That’s Ister Riley he and my mom are married. He’s my dad.”

… 

“I jus wanna be brave ‘ike you Uncle Johnny,” Jane said as they drove home, still sipping her oversized slushie. 

Johnny and Simon had agreed to not mention this, to act like it never happened, for their sake. “I know, princess, an’ yer so so brave.” 

“I no longer scared of ghosts.” Ollie said mindlessly, staring out the window. 

That caught Simon’s attention and he looked back through the rearview mirror, checking on Tess with a quick glance and then to Olliver, “Oi? Yeah?”

“Mmmhm, cause ghosts are jus nice people wearin costumes.”

(annnnyway that's it!! feedback and comments are the easiest way to let me know you liked my work!! thanks to everyone for their support!)

[lyjen]

North west corner

Summary: When the 118 gets to a factory fire, Evan and (Y/n) get stuck in side of the building. Revealing quite a surprise.

Next chapter >> | 9-1-1 Masterlist

The team 118 was spread over the three rigs they owned, there was engine, ladder and the ambulance 118. Hen and Chimney were in the ambulance, while Bobby, Buck, Eddie and (Y/n) were in the ladder rig.

They were just on their way back to the firehouse as dispatch tried to connect with them. “Engine 118, ladder 118 and ambulance 118, Factory fire at 4545 West Caroll.” Sounded through the radio they had pinned to their chests.

As soon as they received the message, they grabbed their headsets and put them on their heads. And the ladder’s truck sirens were switched to on. Eddie was talking with Buck about some new restaurant down town. Meanwhile, (Y/n) was staring outside the window.

She wasn’t completely present. She had been feeling nauseous this morning, she couldn’t keep anything down. So she was basically performing on an empty stomach.

Completely lost in thought she flinched when her boyfriend who was sitting next to her, patted his hand on her knee to get her attention. She didn’t notice Evan asked her a question. A worried look spread on his face. “Huh?” Came out of her mouth. Evan’s hand was now rubbing up and down on her thigh.

“I asked if you were feeling okay?” (Y/n) nodded. “Yeah… Yeah I’m fine, just daydreaming” she answered him with a slight smile. While (Y/n) received another confused look from her brother who sat diagonally across from Evan. “Are you sure?” Eddie jumped in. The only thing (Y/n) was nod, and continued watching the streets they went rushing by. Brushing off the worried looks of her boyfriend and brother.

She was fine. They didn’t need to worry about her, just a little nausea wouldn’t hurt a soul. Am I right?

(Y/n) felt how the ladder truck came to a stop. Eddie went out on one side of the truck, and (Y/n) hopped out on the other side. She felt how Evan followed her steps. Both his hands resting on her shoulders as he jumped out of the vehicle. Evan took place next to her, putting his arm around her.

He closed the distance between them, his mouth moving towards her ear. “If there is something wrong, you know you can tell me. Right?” He whispered quietly. She nodded. “There’s nothing wrong.” she continued. And planted a kiss on his cheek and walked out of his grip.

As she was walking forward, she saw multiple victims running out of the building. Watching how the flames took over the factory building.

Bobby stood in front of his team, ready to shout orders. Evan and (Y/n) joined the group of firefighters. “Okay! Dispatch said there are still some trapped workers inside, they didn’t say how much. But I don’t like this smoke, so get a hose line in there. Be quick on this one, I’m saying four minutes tops! Hen, Chim, set up triage! Eddie, Buck, (Y/n), you go get those workers out of there! Let’s go!” Bobby’s voice tried to reach his crew. “On it cap!”

The ladder team opened up the compartment where they storaged the tanks, got them out and put them on their back. (Y/n) felt a feeling of discomfort crawling in her arms when she put on the tank on her back, but she ignored it. Maybe it was just a pulled muscle, a wrong movement she made.

Evan took a moment to take a glance at his girlfriend, he knows something is wrong. He could tell, she hadn’t been eating all day and she was absent. Those weren’t things she did on the regular basis. For now, he’d let it slide, they had to get inside to get the last victims out of that building. Hurriedly Evan put his mask on like the others and walked towards the entrance of the building.

When they got in the building, flames were literally everywhere. The flames were surrounding them. “LAFD! Call out!” They tried to call through their masks while also trying to get above the sound of the fire.

Repeatedly they called out that familiar sentence. Waiting for someone to respond while they did a quick sweep. They only had 4 minutes, that’s how much they got from Bobby. In one of the halls, they found one of the missing workers. The man was covered in ashes, and coughing as he couldn’t breathe through the thickness of the smoke. “Hey over here!” Buck called out as he was the first one to discover the man.

Evan lowered down to help the man stand on his own two feet. Eddie stopped him. “I got him! You two go look for others!” Eddie spoke as he took over the injured man from Evan. Eddie slung the man’s arm over his shoulder, giving him the support he needed and tried to make his way back out of the burning building. “Chim, Hen, I’m coming out with one victim!” Eddie spoke through his radio.

Eddie walked through the exit, what was also the entrance of the building. He handed the man over to Hen, so she could check him out and give him the treatment he needed.

Evan and (Y/n) tried to sweep the level for more injured employees. Although (Y/n) was in a burning building, she had a cold sweat dripping over her face and over her back. Her vision went blurry, but she tried to blink it away and follow Evan’s shadow. It could be the lack of energy, she didn’t eat all day. That could be the reason, right?

They entered an office, Buck entered first, searching the office. As (Y/n) tried to steady herself on the doorframe of the office. Trying to catch her breath. Her vision didn’t change. She was still sweating and her breaths became more rapid. She felt like she had run a marathon, but all she did was sweep the building together with her boyfriend. “LAFD! Call out!” Evan’s voice filled her eardrums again.

Bobby was outside, trying to estimate the situation “I don’t like this smoke! I want all firefighters to evacuate the building immediately!” Bobby called through his radio as he sees big clouds of dark grey smoke come out of the factory.

Buck searches the last part of the office, and made up his conclusion. “No one here, we’re coming out now!” Buck called through his radio. Buck turns on his heels, and saw his girlfriend standing in the doorway. “Come on let’s go!” He tried to motivate her.

She felt weak as if every piece of energy was sucked out of her in that little time. Her eyelids were becoming heavy, it took to many energy to keep her eyes open. She really tried to keep herself awake. But she couldn’t. Her heartbeat was ringing in her ears, together with her breathing.

Her knees buckled and she fell down on the floor. Letting gravity doing its work and pull her down to the ground.

“(Y/n)!” he yells out. He couldn’t even notice wat was happening.

He rushes towards his girlfriend and let himself flop down next to her side. “(Y/n)?? (Y/n)??” He panics. He doesn’t know what to do. His hand fell onto his radio, “Mayday, mayday! Firefighter down! I repeat firefighter down!” Buck sounded through the radio.

“Buck what’s going on?” He heard Eddie ask on the radio, his voice was full of worry. Eddie knew that the only firefighter who could be down, was (Y/n) since Evan was the one to speak through the radio. They both were the last ones to pull out of the building. The rest of the team was already outside of the building waiting for orders from the captain.

“Buck?!” Eddie repeated over the radio, almost crushing his radio with his bare hand. Evan put two of his fingers in her neck, and tried to search for her pulse. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t find her damn pulse. With trembling hands he reached out to his radio, and clicked in the button they used to speak. “I.. I think she’s having a heart attack” he spoke through the radio.

Eddie’s eyes went wide as he heard Evan’s response. He looked at Bobby. “What’s your location Buck?” Bobby spoke into his radio.

Eddie, who already had put his helmet back on, ready for his sign to go in, looked at Bobby with pain in his eyes. How was it possible that his damn’ sister was having a heart attack? She was twenty two. How does a twenty two year old get a heart attack?

“Bobby we have to get them!” Eddie tried to convince Bobby to let him go in. He was desperate to help his sister. “Eddie Stand down.” Is the only thing what came out of Bobby’s mouth. Bobby couldn’t let Eddie go in that fire hazard. It wasn’t safe.

Evan noticed how the fire came closer to them. “(Y/n)!” He called one more time, desperate to get her awake again. “Shit!” He cursed to himself as his attempt to get her awake again didn’t work. He stood up from (Y/n)’s side, and grabbed the handle they used to get the tanks to sit in place on a back of a person. He put both of his hands on the two straps which were holding the tank of his girlfriend into place. And he dragged her towards the office, which hasn’t caught fire yet.

Another explosion took place in the factory Evan and (Y/n) were in. Evan had to perform CPR, and find a way out. If he waited any longer, he could lose his girlfriend, and his best friend’s sister. “I’m starting CPR now!” He yelled through his radio. Evan didn’t bother to open her florescent jacket, it was too risky. The fire was already coming for them both. He had to do this now, he couldn’t lose more time. Evan locked his fingers together, straightened his elbows and pushed down his hands against (Y/n)’s chest.

“Come on baby, come on!” He tried to motivate her to come back to reality as he continued to push down on her chest. “You’re not allowed to do this (Y/n). You can’t go anywhere.”

Why didn’t Evan notice something sooner, he knew something was wrong. He knew she wasn’t okay and should’ve stopped her as soon as they came on scene.

But now here he was, performing CPR on his own girlfriend in a burning building.

Eddie turned towards Bobby. “Bobby, please you have to let me back in there! That’s my sister!” Tears were welling in his eyes. His heart was pounding as if it tried to break free out of his chest. It almost felt like he was having a heart attack himself.

Bobby gave Eddie a thoughtful look, he was actually considering Eddies request to go back in there. He couldn’t let them die in there. They were his family. And he needed to get them back to safety. The silence was ear deafening. He looked at Chimney and Hen, and then back at Eddie.

“Okay Eddie, let’s go!” Bobby reached out to get an oxygen tank and mask. Bobby put on his gear, as did Eddie. When they were all geared up, they hurried towards the entrance of the building. When another explosion took over the scene. Fire roared in front of the entrance.

Eddie was screaming out so loud, that he couldn’t notice how hard he was screaming. Bobby grabbed his upper arm and pulled him back from the entrance.

Eddie tried to break free of the hold Bobby got him in, he needed to safe his sister and Buck. Tears were leaving his eyes. He didn’t even think it was possible to have that many tears.

Bobby’s hand reached his radio. “Buck, the entrance is blocked. Put her on your shoulder if you have to. But you get the hell out of there, do you hear me!” Bobby ordered Evan.

Evan was putting all of his strength into getting his girlfriend back to life. He was pretty sure he heard and felt a few ribs cracking. He was exhausted. But he couldn’t give up. Tears were rolling down his face.

Buck stopped his compressions when he reached yet another thirty and slumped over her body to try and feel her pulse.

Nothing.

Evan threw off his oxygen mask, and gently took hers off too. His face was covered in ashes, drenched in sweat with a mix of his tears. He put his mouth over hers, and breathed into her lungs 2 times. Normally they wouldn’t do this. They had a rescue breath mask for that. But right now, he had to try this. He wouldn’t stop until he tried everything he could.

“(Y/n), if you can hear me. You have to wake up! And get the hell out that building!” Eddie tried to motivate her, even though she might not be able to hear him.

Evan interlaces his fingers again and put his fists on her chest again. Going for another round of chest compressions. Buck was blinking away the tears that were dripping off his cheeks onto (Y/n)’s florescent jacket. Gasping for breaths as he continued CPR. Meanwhile Buck was scanning the area he was in, trying to figure out how to get the hell out of this hell hole.

He was focusing himself on her chest, counting each push he gave her chest. Evan’s eyes shot to her eyes when he heard a gasp for breath, desperate for oxygen. She coughed as if she wanted her lungs to leave her body. He took his hands off her chest. “Hey! Hey! You’re fine, you’re okay!” Evan trying to reassure her, putting her face between his hands.

With one hand, he grabbed her oxygen mask and put it back on her face. Her chest was hurting from the pressure Evan used to get her back to life.

Evan noticed a door in the back of the office. He was silently hoping it was a staircase with a fire exit.

They had no time to waste. Evan and (Y/n) needed to get the hell out of that building. Evan could tell (Y/n) was too weak to hold herself up. He put back on his own oxygen mask and put his left arm underneath her lower back, his right arm found its way around her thighs and he hoisted her up in his arms.

Buck hurried forward towards the back door in the office. He turned his back to the door, and kicked his leg back to open the door.

Through the door, a beam of daylight welcomed Evan. There was a window. It was a kind of back office. Evan put back a chair with his feet and set (Y/n) down in it for a moment. He ran towards the window and searched around for anything he could smash the window with. But there was nothing usefull, not a damn thing. The room was already filling itself up with dark grey smoke. Evan didn’t have a choice. He had to break the window with his hands. Without thinking, Evan smashed his arm through the glass, immediately breaking the rest of the old window.

“Buck. Status update.” Bobby ordered Evan through his radio. The radio went silent. No answer from Evan nor (Y/n).

“Baby I am sorry, I need to do this.” He told (Y/n) as he fully ignored Bobby through the radio. The flames were already taking over the small walls of the back office.

He grabbed (Y/n)’s right arm with his left arm, lowered himself down and put his right arm around her thighs. And he hoisted (Y/n) over his shoulder as he fast made his way through the window with (Y/n) dangling over his shoulder.

Another explosion took over the building. The roof started to come down, as Evan tightly held (Y/n) in position.

Eddie felt his heart beating in his throat. He was pretty sure he was about to throw up. His eyes were on the entrance of the building as another loud bang sounded through the air. Bobby was trying to get in touch with Evan and (Y/n). “Buck. What’s your status?” Bobby called again through the radio. Nothing but noise from the frequency sounded through the radio.

Eddie stepped back. He put both his hands in his hair and was pretty sure he pulled some strands of hair from his scalp. He looked up at the sky, as he tried to stop the tears from falling down his face.

Bobby tried to radio Buck one more time. “Buck what-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence as he saw movement next to the building. Evan’s broad frame came in to his sight. “Eddie!” Bobby called out when he clearly saw Buck rushing towards them with (Y/n) over his shoulder. Eddie’s eyes shot towards Bobby, and then to the person Bobby was pointing at.

“Chim I need a gurney over here!” Before Bobby could even finish his sentence, Chimney came running down with a gurney with Eddie right behind him. “And get a hose line and water tank on that building!” Bobby continued shouting his orders.

When Evan reached the gurney, he slowly sat (Y/n) down on the gurney. While Bobby tried to take off the oxygen tank off her back, Eddie helped to gently take off her oxygen mask. Evan also took off his mask and let his gloved hand slide over his girlfriend’s cheek while she was coughing. He stepped back to give Chimney the space he needed to examine (Y/n).

Chimney held a light in front of her eyes. Asking her to follow it with her eyes. (Y/n) weakly tried to slap back his hand. “I’m fine” she groaned, and pushed herself up to get off the gurney when her knees buckled again. Eddie catches her just in time before her body met the floor again.

Evan rushed to her other side, next to Eddie. While Eddie and Evan try to push the female firefighter back on the gurney. She tries to push them both back. “Hey! Hey! Hey! (Y/n). Stop. Please.” Evan tries to stop her.

She stopped pushing them both. Evan took a step closer towards his girlfriend who was sitting on the gurney now. He carefully took one of her hands in his. “I know you’re not fine. I knew it from the beginning you stepped out of that ladder truck.” He confessed. He wasn’t that stupid. “I could see it on the look on your face. This past week, you’ve been acting so strange. So please, tell me. What’s going on. A twenty two year old doesn’t get a heart attack just like that.”

A silence fell. (Y/n) her eyes fell down looking at her hands. One of them was holding Evan’s. She squeezed her eyes shut. Trying to avoid the waterfall of tears, that was trying to make its way outside of her tear ducts.

She sighed.

“I’m pregnant Buck, that’s what’s been going on.”

[forever-rogue]

It's a Lifestyle

AN | Hello, its me! Back from the dead for my favorite time of the year. It's just a sweet little scene with Eddie and his angel and their love of Halloween! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie looked forward to coming home every day. So much. Like so much. 

Because he always knew that you'd be there, excited to see him, even if it hadn't been that long since you'd last seen each other.

He parked his truck in the driveway of the small house that now belonged to the two of you.

A very own home for you both.

He noted your car in the driveway as well, but when he came inside the house, you weren't there to greet him. He took off his boots and set them by the door, reaching down to pet Pickles as she wound herself around his legs. The small black cat purred loudly before giving him one final rub and heading over to the window to sit on the ledge and stare outside. People and animal watching had become a favorite pastime of hers.

"Angel?” he called out, wondering where you had managed to disappear too. He poked around downstairs but found nothing but the delicious smell of fresh brownies. It was like you'd known that he had been craving them. You definitely made the best brownies…not that he was biased or anything.

When you didn't answer him, he climbed up the stairs, assuming you were in the bedroom or office or…somewhere. Hopefully.

As he got to the top of the stairs, the floor squeaked slightly. That alone was enough to alert you to his presence, “Eddie?”

He followed the sound of your voice down the hall and around the corner, finding the stairs to the attic pulled down, “its just me. What're you doing up there?”

“Hi my love,” your pretty face appeared and made him smile, “I'm just going through some boxes to find the Halloween Decorations! I know I have some from the years past-”

“It's not even September yet,” Eddie raised an eyebrow, amusement written all over his face. He was trying not to laugh, but it was all in good fun.

“Halloween is a year round tradition, Edward!” You beckoned for him to come up the stairs, “its not my fault that my year round decor just happens to be Halloween appropriate. Halloween is a lifestyle.”

“I thought it was a holiday?” He started to make the short climb, quickly standing up next to you. He gently took your face in his hands, beaming at you.

“It's a lifestyle,” you repeated, putting your hands on his forearms, smiling back at him, “hi.”

“Hi,” he leaned and kissed you softly, pulling away much sooner than you would have liked, but you knew you'd get plenty more later, “Halloween being a lifestyle choice makes sense considering your skull collection.”

“It is an impressive skull collection,” you mused before kissing him again. When he had first met you he was surprised to find that you collected all sorts of different replica skulls. You didn't give off the vibe immediately but he found that they did suit you, “wanna help me decorate, handsome?”

“For you? Anything,” he agreed, heart swelling at the pure joy on your face, “you want to decorate now? We'll decorate now.”

“And maybe go shopping for some new decorations?”

“Sure baby,” he promised, “you never decorated our old apartment much.”

“It was small,” you shrugged softly, “and that only felt like a home because of you. But this is our home now, one we worked hard for. And there's no one else I'd rather be here with. Now we have the freedom and ability to make it our own, however we want.”

“Yeah,” fondness colored his voice as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I love you, you know?”

“I love you,” you threw your arms around him and gave him a cuddly, tender embrace, “now, my love, will you help me bring the boxes downstairs?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed dramatically before immediately getting ready to bring everything down the ladder. You could have asked him for the moon and stars and would have gotten them for you, “I hope you know I'm only being nice because you made brownies.”

“I knew I made them for a reason,” you grinned at him, “you're not a hard sell, Eddie Munson.”

“You're lucky I love you!”

“I love you lots and lots,” you promised, moving the first box towards him so he could bring it down, “and then some!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I'm not sure about this,” Eddie frowned at the coffee currently nestled in your hand, eyebrows almost disappearing into his dark curls, “why do you want a drink that tastes like pumpkin?”

He was, meanwhile and as usual, holding a cup of hot, black coffee. You grinned and shrugged your shoulders before talking a long sip, “because it's delicious and the right amount of sweet and spicy. Besides, it doesn't taste like pumpkin, it's the spices. Try it.”

“What if I die?” He scoffed dramatically before taking the cup of your hand taking a tentative sip. You watched his face go through several emotions before he finally swallowed.

“It's good, huh?” You knew him well enough by now to know when he liked something. He mumbled something under his breath before handing the coffee back to you, “and you didn't die.”

“It's…acceptable,” he tried to play it off but you could see him struggle to hold his laugh back. He quickly grabbed it again and took another sip, “I wouldn't try it again.”

“Whatever,” you kissed his cheek before taking your coffee back and looping your arm through his, walking him in the direction of the home goods store you'd dragged him to. Not that he was really complaining - he loved Halloween too after all, “you don't have to admit I'm right.”

“You wish,” he rolled his eyes dramatically, eyes widening when he noticed all the Halloween items in the shop’s window display, “wow. That's so much Halloween…and it's still so early in the season.”

“That's how it is nowadays,” you shrugged, “but it's to my advantage!”

“What exactly is that you're looking for?”

You moved to step in front of him, looking ridiculously cute in your sweater and scarf and boots, all bundled up to stay warm, “we are looking for whatever speaks to us. You gotta feel it in your gut.”

He couldn't help but laugh as you reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his, “whatever you say, angel.”

“We don't have to do this,” you whispered softly, “if you don't want to, I don't want to make you do this, or to make you feel obligated-”

“I want to do this,” he promised, “I love spending time with you, whatever we do.”

“Me too,” you relaxed, smiling shyly at your boyfriend. You reached over and tucked a rogue curl that had escaped from his bun behind his ear, “c'mon on then! Oh - you get to pick what we do next. Wanna go to Guitar Center maybe?”

His eyes lit up as he nodded. He knew that you weren't a music nerd like him, but you always listened intently when he spoke about it, often getting very passionate. You always supported him and his music and he couldn't ask for more.

 “Hell yeah.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That afternoon you spent several hours walking around and looking for the perfect Halloween and fall decor for the house. It was, admittedly, a lot more fun than Eddie could have imagined.

Plus, the two of you had gone to Guitar Center afterwards. Which hadn't hurt. You always felt like you were lost when Eddie got really into talking about music, but you loved how passionate he was about music…everything really.

The only thing that was left to do was to get pumpkins for the front porch and maybe some pie. But that you wanted to do closer to actual Halloween so the pumpkins wouldn't rot. Although Eddie had insisted that would look metal as fuck. 

The two of you had decided to make it a date day and by the time the two of you were heading home it was later into the evening.  Eddie was driving your car, one hand on the wheel and the other one was holding yours.

Music was playing quietly as the two of you talked about anything and everything that crossed your mind. After a while, a content silence fell over the two of you as you stared out the window at the passing scenery.

“What're you thinking about, angel?” He quickly turned his head to look at you, his face illuminated by the passing street lights.

“Nothing,” you felt your cheeks warm up, and keep your eyes turned from his. he squeezed your hand and you knew better than to think he would leave it alone. That wasn't his style at all. You turned your head to face him, squinting your eyes before sighing, “Alright, its something. But it's silly and you're going to laugh.”

“I wouldn't laugh,” he insisted as you raised an eyebrow at him, “fine, I won't laugh unless it's very laugh worthy.”

“You're such an ass,” but you were laughing now, the sound full of adoration and affection, “I was just thinking about how much I love this.”

“This?”

“Us,” you watched a smile tug up the corners of his mouth, “I love being with you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he turned the street to your house, effortlessly pulling into the driveway and parking the car. You unbuckled your seat belt and turned to him, looking at him sweetly, “what? You're looking at me all funny.”

“I'm not looking at you funny,” you leaned over the center console and traced your fingers gently along his jaw, “I just really love you.”

“And…? I know there's something else you're not saying,” he took your chin in his hand and tilted your face up towards him, “out with it angel.”

“It's just that,” you bit your lip, sucking in a slow breath, “I can't wait to marry you one day. I mean. I know this is all real, that what we have is real. But I also can't wait to call you my husband one day. It's like an added little bonus.”

“Oh,” his pale cheeks turned bright pink as he tried to control his excitement. At first you were worried that he wasn't going to share the same sentiment but any worry that popped up quickly disappeared, “I can't wait for that either. I can't wait to call you my wife one day.”

“And you'll be my husband,” you whispered as he nodded eagerly, “you want to marry me too?”

“Of course I do,” he admitted shyly, “and I'm going to propose. You'll just have to wait and see when that is. It'll happen but you'll never know when.”

“Until it happens…”

“Until it happens,” he agreed. Eddie held out his hands and motioned for you to shuffle over the center console, “c'mere.”

“We're in the car!”

“Don't care,” he insisted, helping you over and onto his lap, “just wanna be close to you.”

“Even better,” you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to your lips so you could kiss him. He sighed softly against your lips, his warm and sweet smell overwhelming you in the best ways possible, “I love you so much, Eddie. Thank you for always dealing with me and my shenanigans.”

“I've never dealing with you,” he nudged his nose against yours, “I love every bit of you. Plus I also enjoy all of your so called shenanigans. We just have…adventures. Silly ones, but good ones. and I happen to love Halloween as much as you. It's a win-win for me.”

“For both of us,” you pressed your forehead against his, “do you wanna go inside and put up some of the stuff we got?”

“Yes,” he agreed eagerly, “but I want to enjoy some more of you first.”

“What…oh,” you grinned, “I would very much like that.”

“Let's go then,” he opened the door and gently helped you out of the car, “no time to waste, m'lady.”

“You're such a dork!”

“So are you,” he countered, “but I love you regardless.”

“And I love you, Eddie."

[smileysuh]

comfort cuisine - TEASER

🌙 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 :)

“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.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.1k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday, May 17th, 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

taglist is limited, to ensure a tag please reply, reblog with a comment, or reblog, those who do one of those three options will be prioritized when it comes to posting day

I'll do my best to post a link to the fic here as soon as it's on tumblr