#i just feel people change and it drives me up the wall
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no need to be brave
adult Van x fem!reader
as your lover deals with a hangover, which is only made worse by her illness, she insists that you leave her to deal with it by herself, but you have other plans -with a bit of tenderness and heat, you manage to make her feel it: that you want to be with her, always, not just on her good days
authors note: hi! I was on a break from posting these fics but that promo clip where adult taivan are bickering gave me some inspiration, so I just took the idea of being sweet with her while shes suffering and this came from that, hope you enjoy <3 (5.8k words)
warnings: some smut (both receive in certain ways), mentions of cancer/grief etc.
it was a sunny winter afternoon as you laid on Van´s couch and listened to the outside noise, cars driving by, the day going unfolding while you relaxed with your legs stretched out, your eyes closed, your breathing slow and steady.
you´d been dating Van long enough by that point to feel like her apartment had become your second home, and she was more than glad to leave hers years of solitary living behind, but in that moment she had no idea that you were still there.
the night before, you had gone out to a nice dinner and against all better judgment she had insisted on getting a few drinks at the bar next door; you were aware of her diagnosis, unlike when you´d first started dating, and asked her if she was sure, to give her a chance to change her mind, but she did not budge, she wanted a proper drink for once, a few even, so, instead of playing mother and telling her that she was forbidden, you caved and indulged her. for the next few hours you joined her in enjoying the present moment, regardless of consequence, soaked up the atmosphere of the dimly lit room as you stole touches under the table and both got tipsy from a few shots and two drinks, kissing to taste the citrusy booze on each others lips.
as you walked home, arm in arm, you were glad that you hadn´t dragged her home, that you got to see her face glow pink as she smiled at you under the light of the moon, paused on your way back to kiss you in an empty street, to feel you up against a wall until you heard a group of people approaching and ran, or rather stumbled, away. you had fallen asleep later on in a tight embrace while caressing each others hair, whispering sweet drunken thoughts, "my baby..", "I´m so lucky..", falling into a dazed slumber.
that burst of sparkling euphoria was replaced by a dull dread the next morning, at least on Vans part.
she couldn´t blame anyone but herself for the banging migraine she woke up to, she knew this, so she refrained from complaining to you, even though she radiated a palpable air of "I am gonna die today. not in the near future, this is it, I´m fucking done for.", her body punishing her for her recklessness, her joints and muscles aching with every move.
you were already familiar enough with her physical makeup to know exactly what she needed on mornings like that: an ice cold coke, some strong pain killers, a flaky pastry, and you doting on her, even though she denied it. Van felt embarrassed from the moment she woke up, aware of how beyond rough she looked, her hair disheveled, her face puffy, failing to suppress her groans of discomfort, and yet, you weren´t put off by it, any of it, even when she was convinced you were surely losing all of your attraction to her by the minute, it never happened, not once; you had yet to see Van in a state that didn´t elicit feelings of adoration or warmth in you, her freckled nose and cheeks, the shape of her lips, her voice, her flame colored hair, that distinct sweet warm scent she had in the morning, they were never diminished in their effect on you by a cranky attitude or signs of her sickness, ever.
you knew that she did not always believe you, that she often wondered why on earth you stayed with her, through everything, even though you weren´t even girlfriends, not officially, not really. you knew Van well enough to know that she would not ask you to be exclusive, much too afraid of the unbearable sense of guilt of locking you down, when she might die within the year, when she might evoke widow-like feelings in someone who had barely just started their adult life.
you had no way of knowing, but in her darkest moments when she was cruelest to herself her mind told her "youre a fucking monster. you already knew you had a few months at most and still looked for a lover. you tell yourself that you werent looking for more than sex but you know its not true. you were too selfish to die without having anyone wrecked by your death. you wanted someone to really grieve your loss. and now youve found a poor soul. enjoy it."
still, even when she kept things undefined and told you you were free to date other people - while dying of envy at the mere thought - in your head, and in hers, Van was your girlfriend, she was, you didn´t need her to say it because her behavior sufficed, she treated you like a partner, not just a a hook-up, she was far from detached and you let her believe that it was casual, that you weren´t at risk of having your heart shattered by her death, that you weren´t already in love with her.
the way you´d found out about her cancer had been less than ideal.
during your first date, her attitude was "no need to tell her about it, I doubt I will see her more than a few times" at the time still very attached to her idea of keeping her love life non-committal, unromantic, only allowing hook-ups and maybe a few low-key dates here and there. this plan was abandoned fast when your first date went so beautifully that you ended up kissing her goodbye in her car, which inevitably turned into a heated make-out, which turned into you asking her to come up to your room, both of you a little shocked by how deeply into each other you were after just a few hours of talking over a dinner table.
one of your fondest memories from that night was after you´d gotten lost in each other for hours, laying there tired but far from sleepy, exhilirated by your natural chemistry, when she laughed and shook her head, still breathless, and said "what the fuck are you doing to me..", since she was not used to it: a stranger being as overtly sweet and intense during sex as you´d been, kissing her not just in the obvious places but on the back of her hand, wherever you could reach in the heat of the moment, still reeling from the way you´d begged to taste her after she´d done it to you, the way you´d caressed her sides, had given her a type of intimacy that she usually felt like she’d have to earn by being more open, more vulnerable during a date - but you didn´t care to hear her life story, you were eager to feel her, fully, and it broke her down, hit her at her weak spot, the romantic in her, that she´d kept buried, coming back up to hold you as you slept together that night.
you saw each other again two days later and you ended up spending the weekend at her place, which went so smoothly that Van abandoned her rule of "no sweet stuff, nothing relationship adjacent" : she started inviting you out for breakfast, always offered to drive you to work or to meet up with a friend, picked you up at night, listened and calmed you down whenever you seemed worried or stressed; you returned the same energy by randomly showing up at her store with flowers for her place or her favorite take-out or to just keep her some company and sit near the counter while she talked to you about her recent film discoveries, gossiped about some customers, pulled you into the back-room to make out until the bell rang, you pushing her away as she groaned and uttered "I´m not done with you" as she left the room and prayed that the person would leave within a few minutes.
this honeymoon period made her feel an acute sense of shame. she had tried again and again to find the right moment to tell you, to just say it: "I am so sorry. I have been keeping something from you." but the love she had so unexpectedly stumbled into with you, that light she felt in her chest, that unfamiliar warmth that had wrapped its soft arms around her soul, she was too desperate to keep it in tact, so weeks passed before the moment came, unplanned, she didnt want it to go the way it did.
one night as you laid on top of her, still breathing heavy, still trembling a bit from the way she´d wrecked you, her hands drawing soft circles on your back, her heartbeat under your ear, you had fantasized about possibly going on a summer vacation that year, to get away from everything, to have a few days just to be together and lounge around and jump into the ocean together, eat good food, be at ease. it hit her then, the inability to picture her future because she did not know how long she still had, so she went quiet and burst into tears.
at first, you were shocked, unable to speak, since you´d never seen her shed a single tear up until then, but you quickly recovered and held her face and tried to soothe her in any way you could as the confession came spilling out: "I´m so sorry, I´m so fucking sorry, but I don´t even know if I´ll.." she choked up in the middle "if I´ll..." you coaxed it out of her, rubbed her shoulders, listened quietly as she cried, "if I´ll still be alive in summer. I have cancer. terminal."
Van had expected you to be angry with her, to feel blind-sided and betrayed by her stringing you along for weeks without ever mentioning her severe predicament, but all you could think to do then was to pull her head against your shoulder and assure her that you weren´t going anywhere, that you would figure it out together, that she had no reason to apologize.
you put on a brave face for her but later that night the other person who was home with you had to stop you from almost hyperventilating at the thought of having to watch her lose her physical strength and suffer til her premature death, which you would have to survive, somehow. you allowed yourself one night of fully falling apart and grieving the loss you were being asked to face in the near future, but the next day a determination took over, you told yourself, "I love her. I love being with her. and I will make the most out of every second. I will ease her pain in any way I can, until the end."
Van could sense this energy from that point on, your protective spirit, and it humbled her while also making her feel a bit uneasy about her being older and yet being taken care of by you, almost shedding tears when you did things for her like massage her temples and joints with essential oils to relieve some of the pain or when you clocked her lies about having eaten enough during the day and cooked her elaborate meals at night, when you made her switch during sex to keep her from exhausting herself just to make you come again and again, a sweetness to it, the way you´d sometimes move away from under her and push her back into the pillows with a pleased smile that said "your turn now, I´m very satisfied, no need to prove yourself".
that morning, the guilt had come back to haunt Van, so she told you to leave her to deal with her aching bones and hangover by herself, to go out and have a fun Saturday, to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about her, to not turn into her "unpaid nurse", as she put it.
she´d insisted quite aggressively, her mood not helping at all with her self-loathing, so you´d assuaged her by saying "okay fine, I´ll go, call me if you need any help though" and left her room, walked down the stairs, loudly, on purpose, to make it sound like you´d left, only to quietly creep up again and stay.
you refused to leave her to her own devices in a state like that. it was out of the question. not when you were afraid she might pass out on her way to the bathroom or in the shower. about two hours after she´d fallen asleep again, around 3pm, you heard some noise coming from her room that signaled to you that she was awake.
you wouldn´t just sit there and listen, so you got up from the couch and made your way over to her room, cracking the door open and preparing yourself for her to tell you off, which of course, only took a few seconds to happen, a barely suppressed grin on your face as you saw her laying there, her eyes still half-closed, her cheeks pink from sleep, and heard her voice crack as she whined your name and said "noo come on, you said you´d go, what the fuck are you still doing here??".
you smiled as you took a few steps further into the room and crossed your arms, eyeing her with an unmistakably loving gaze, "oh, perfect way to be greeted while walking into the room" an air of smugness to you as you walked over to her nightstand and popped an aspirin into the glass of water you´d left there for her earlier. Van shook her head as she rubbed her eyes and let out a "fucking hell..", clearly still out of it, so you sat down on her side of the bed to get a closer look at her, your hand resting over the blanket, a twist in your heart when you saw how tired she still looked, but a bit of life had thankfully come back into her from the nap.
"this isn´t funny... take a fucking look outside!" Van told you, gesturing wildly at the window "it´s so nice out today, you should be with friends, moving your body, enjoying the sun, whatever, not staying inside to take care of an old decrepit woman." her tone low, an attempt at sternness that wasn´t unattractive to you, still, her pout took away from her ability to seem intimidating, to seem anything but sweet to you. you watched her, brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucked it behind her ear and said "uh, would you mind pointing to the woman you´re talking about because I dont see anyone decrepit here".
Van rolled her eyes and squeezed your arm then for emphasis, trying not to be charmed, "listen to me lady, I told you, I don´t want to feel guilty all the time, I really don´t, this is my fault, I chose to drink, so you go, be free, have fun, please, I will call you when I am better again, I promise".
she was trying her best to sell it to you, the simple idea of: let us part ways, let me deal with it, and get back to you when I am fit again. but what you heard was "abandon me" and you never would. so it was pointless. she couldn´t sway you and maybe deep down she was secretly glad for it, your unwavering loyalty, the way you never seemed fazed or annoyed by her ailments, her moods, her little moments of melodrama.
"do you really think I am doing all of this out of pity? really? that I secretly hate this and just put on a brave face? come on. Van. you know me by now" you said, earnest, holding her hand then, clasping it tightly as she softened from your impact, felt touched by your gentle way of handling her. "yeah... yeah I do" she agreed and squeezed your hand, her voice barely above a whisper, a wistfulness to her tone, her eyes drawn to where your fingers were interlaced, a light kiss to her cheek from you before you took the glass with the dissolved aspirin and ordered her "drink.", which made her drop the tough act and smile, genuinely, pleased by that subtle sound of authority.
she obeyed and drank about half of it before pausing to take a breath and then finish the rest, a pleased "good, there you go" from you, which made her laugh as she wiped her mouth and lightened up a bit.
"do you have some kind of savior complex kink going on, is that it?" she teased, nudging you in the side as you sat closer to her and took in the sight of her eyes finally getting that familiar sparkle again.
"oh I see, you think I am getting off on all this, huh?" you joked, pretending to be offended, which only amused her more. Van leaned back against the headboard, stretched her limbs a bit and shrugged, "you tell me." a pause before she added "I´m sure you loveee seeing me all frail and helpless, hm". she´d slipped into the playful tone she often used when she was trying to get you to come onto her, to make her pay for some out of pocket comments by grabbing her and rendering her weak with certain kisses and touches.
Van was not in a state that allowed you too much aggression, but you had your ways, so, you nodded and said "hm sure, I love having you at my mercy", which made her flush, a hit to her core, her utter weakness for being overpowered by her lover, being toyed with, flustered by them.
you eyed her and saw it, that she was getting turned on as she responded "yeah. you could do whatever you want, couldn´t even fight back, not like this".
"hmm" you sighed and moved from the side of the bed to take your place on her thighs instead, carefully, making sure she was fine as you slowly settled on her and straddled her, your hands on her shoulders then, smiling at her as her face got colored in both surprise and arousal, her hands immediately on your hips, holding you in place, a soft groan as she felt your weight pressing down on her and sighed "okay. maybe I dont want you to leave.." her hands wandering up to your waist, a sound of pleasure from you as you nodded, pleased that you´d won, that she was finally surrendering, going quiet, letting you be good to her, make her feel wanted, even then.
"see, that wasn´t so hard hm" you cooed at her, your finger tracing her facial features in awe, the way you always did in intimate moments, her eye briefly closed as she leaned into your hand, let you caress her for a moment, sounded like a purring cat, until she grew eager for a little more skin contact and said "take this off" while tugging at your shirt.
within a few seconds you were topless, and to give her a bit more you also freed yourself off your bra, leaving you on her just in your jeans, a sight that enticed her to no end, the contrast of your fully covered legs and the soft flesh of your chest, all for her, her hands running down your shoulders over your collarbones down to your tits, your head falling back, a pleased "hmm" sound as she teased you a little, kept her hands over your tits while pressing her fingertips down, feeling you up, savoring the sight of you on her like that.
"come here" she whispered and beckoned you forward, so you leaned close enough for her to wrap her arms around your back and press kisses to your neck, quiet moans from you as she breathed in your scent and kissed her way up your pulse point, sighed to herself, kept a tight grip on your back, holding you as if she was afraid you leave, after she´d begged you to do just that mere hours before.
after a minute or so of letting her have her way, you grew too needy to restrain yourself and grabbed her face to give her proper, deep kiss, to run your tongue over her lower lip and bite it lightly before turning it more intense, slowly making out with her as she caressed your hair and sighed into your mouth, your hands on her face, your hips moving a bit from sheer need, a heat between your legs as you felt her desperation, the way she moved under the blanket to sit more securely and have a stronger grip on you, her tongue soft and warm against yours, her hands firm as they wandered from your hair to your neck, pulled you closer, until you both lost your breaths and separated for a moment, shaking, deeply turned on.
"god.. I want you so fucking bad right now. but I´d pass out, I´m already dizzy... " she confessed, her head resting against your arm, her breath hot on your skin, "the second I am stronger again, I swear to god..." she uttered and gave your hips a squeeze, another wave of heat to your core from the words, the touch, her sudden intense need for you, your hand on the back of her head, cradling her almost.
"we can still do something..." you said, unable to leave it at kissing, so she nodded eagerly and asked "oh yeah? like what?".
"I could.. help myself.." you said, which made her perk up, so you went on "I could jerk off and you could watch, if you want. help me out a bit, touch me.. my chest, your fingers in my mouth, anything", a pleased smile when you saw that the image alone thrilled Van from the way her expression changed, that look she always got when she was hungry for you. she hadn´t considered it before, watching you masturbate, adding to it, when she was too weak to follow her instinct to please you, and it moved her as much as it got her hot, your way of finding moments of deep pleasure and joy to offer her even on her worst days.
"hm.. yes please..." she said and waited, giving you a light slap of encouragement, looking at you with eager eyes as you climbed off her and took your place next to her on the empty side of the bed, pulled your jeans and underwear down, and got comfortable, spread your legs apart, ran your hand over your thigh, a sound of desperation from her as she took it all in, turned her body to face you more directly, leaned over to give you a kiss while whispering "show me, show me what you do when you´re alone", "when I´m thinking of you?" you corrected and smiled while moving your hand between your legs, a nod from her, "yes, yes that´s right..", a groan when she saw you part yourself to slick your fingers up to start rubbing your clit, slowly, taking your time with it, enjoying the act of performing for a devoted witness, for her. you let out a moan as you increased the pressure and felt yourself grow even wetter, already swollen and sensitive from before, the effect that making out with Van had had from you right from the start, you regularly soaking your underwear just from messing around on the couch a bit.
Van´s gaze remained your cunt, what your fingers were doing, how you were playing with yourself, salivating almost, until she moved her eyes up to your stomach, your chest, your face, and sighed "my angel.." as she felt overcome with affection and desire from hearing your sweet sounds, the vulnerability of it all, letting her see you the way you looked when you touched yourself in the privacy and dark of your own room, the distinct sound of your wetness almost making her black out for a second, stirring her need, her mouth watering.
she ran her hand over your chest, squeezed the flesh and got you to moan louder, teased your nipple, hardened it, felt your body shudder and react, "fuck.. please yes.." you whined and nodded, begging for more of her touch, as you rubbed yourself more aggressively, still, not too hard to come already, drawing it out, the ache, to have Van lavish you with her attention, so she did, gladly, her fingers digging into the swell of your breasts, hard, until she traced a path up to your neck, your jaw as she whispered "so fucking pretty..." and swiped her thumb over your lower lip, slowly, touching the tip of your tongue, which got a pathetic moan from you, so she took the cue and smiled as she pushed her index and middle finger into your mouth, slowly sliding them over your tongue, until you closed your lips around them and started sucking, intensely, as if you were giving her fingers a blowjob, perverse with it as you sucked and swirled your tongue over them, as she lost her mind from the feel and view of it and groaned "jesus christ...", trembling as you shut your eyes and savored the feeling of her fingers in you, as you felt your cunt throbbing with the need for release and picked up the pace of your fingers again to really come hard, to use that moment of double pleasure, both your face and lower half stimulated, rushing with blood.
Van licked her lips and let you keep her fingers wet and enclosed by your lips, an appraising "god look at you baby.. always so sweet for me...", only to move her fingers once you were close to finishing and touch your inner thigh, tracing a path up to where you were a soaking mess and helping you out by touching you below your clit, while you focused on your most sensitive spot, her fingers teasing your entrance lightly, which gave you the final push and made you shudder and come undone, the orgasm hitting you hard, your face twisted to the side, sounds muffled by a pillow, Van also moaning as she felt and heard and saw you come for her, to make not just yourself but her feel good, which she did, shaking as if she´d been the one to come as you went slack and laid there, bare, panting, flushed, smiling up at the ceiling as she kept caressing your thigh while you came down form the intense high.
you reached over to pull her hand to your mouth and lick yourself off her fingers, which made her laugh to herself in a resigned way while muttering "you know I might just die from this before the cancer has a chance to kill me.." which made you laugh too, still breathless, trembling. you kissed her hand before letting it go and rolled over to prop yourself up and look at her, "you good there, love?" you asked, grinning as she fussed with your hair and smiled back at you, "oh yeah, perfect, look at me, the picture of vitality" clearly alluding to her tired, worn out state but to you she was beautiful as ever, so you leaned in closer and said "I am looking yes, and enjoying it very much" a tap to the tip of her nose before you gave her a brief kiss, a scoff from her at your comment, which didn´t conceal the pleasure she took in being admired by you, earnestly.
"I am pretty fucking spoiled... some other chronically ill lesbians would kill to be in my position" she joked as you rested your head on her lap for a moment, felt her play with a strand of your hair. "well, I think some others would love to be in mine as well, so" you countered, smiling, but Van shook her head, a bit emotional all of a sudden. "I don´t know about that..." she said quietly "god. sometimes I feel so fucking sorry that I let things get this far. really. it was pretty selfish of me to keep you to myself like this.. like I should´ve told you from the jump, I should´ve made you -" she was falling into that familiar spiral of guilt so you interrupted her, "shhh" you said while moving your head up again and looking at her "easy there, take a breath, okay? and not to be morbid but even if you died right now you´d have still already given me way more than anyone else I´ve been with, and they were younger and fitter, so..." you told her, not lying, still, playing it up a bit, to amuse her.
"well they must´ve been doing something really fucking wrong if I of all people blew your mind" she said, raising her eyebrows, her tone dry, which got a genuine laugh out of you "maybe" you said, cocking your head, touching her arm "or maybe I just love you".
you didn´t plan on saying it but it was true and you had no desire to waste your time pretending you didn´t love her when you had for weeks and weeks already. it was natural, to say it, matter of fact, and it resonated deep within her should, the utter seriousness of your words. "love", she hadn´t heard anyone tell her that in years. she couldnt help it. she teared up, "please..." she begged, almost as if to say "I don´t deserve it.. don´t.. not me..not like this.." but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop you from doing so, so she leaned in and buried her head in the crook of your neck while shedding a few tears, clinging to you, as you held her close and whispered "I love you, I do, I´m not leaving, not today, not next week, not ever. so you can stop trying to convince me."
you sounded determined in a way that cooled her burning mind, so she wiped her tears and held your face in her hands, kissed you, a faint taste of salt from her tears, an urgency to her lingering kiss before she pulled away and said "I love you too. so much." her thumb running over your cheek, your eyes closed, a smile, a reversed image of what she´d done earlier, your turn to melt into her open palm.
you felt the need to be closer again so you laid on her more directly, which got a suppressed groan from her as she laughed and said "ah, careful there.." her hand gesturing at where you were laying, only the blanket and her sweatpants separating your elbows weight from pressing against the spot where she felt the effect of the previous actions. you knew Van was sensitive, but the idea that she had gotten wet from it, that she was soaked enough for it it hurt when you applied too much force, made you want to alleviate her from the ache, to taste her, to have her relax from your mouths work. you loved being devoured by her but sometimes nothing satisfied you more in bed than knowing that you were reminding her that her body was not just diseased but deeply desired, capable of giving her deep pleasure, giving had become more intense for you after youd found out about her illness, and at times she did almost cry from it, your energy of "I will heal whatever part of you I can, I will".
"let me help you with that" you told her as you slowly moved the blanket down her legs and tugged at her waistband, smiling, "I´ll be gentle, don´t worry" assured her when you saw that she feared she might react in an undignified way, lose her composure, faint from it.
she nodded as she felt you kiss her forehead once, twice, before you moved down between her legs and pulled her pants down, glad that she wasn´t wearing underwear, getting comfortable, softly licking and kissing over her freckled thighs before doing anything else, easing her into it, enjoying the intimate, sacred vibe of having her in that weak state, in bed, while the winter sun was casting a golden hue over your bodies tangled in the sheets, your lips glued to her inner thigh, perhaps your favorite part of her, the divine tenderness of the skin there that made every little touch from you send shivers down her spine.
Van was at peace then, free of the earlier intense pain, lulled into a full bodied warm state of arousal, one that wasn´t overwhelming but got some soft moans out of her as she laced her fingers through your hair, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as you held true to your promise and ever so gently ran your tongue over her, gave her kisses and soft licks, teased her, tasting her just on the outside at first, slowly, only the tip of your tongue, before you felt her open her legs further, silently begging for more, so you moved your tongue in deeper, your arms firmly hooked around her thighs, holding her in place, caressing her stomach, more romantic with it than in moments of a shared urgent hunger, your hands eventually moving up to find hers, staying like that as you savored her taste, the deep, barely suppressed groans from her that always drove you to go a bit harder, to hear more of that, her voice strained from what you were doing.
you remained down between her legs were for a while, both of you sinking into the delicious rhythm of it, the faint sighs and whimpers, her encouraging you "feels so good... don’t stop", finally able to let you show her how much you always wanted her without pushing you away but pulling you closer, asking for more, receiving it with a smile, her head pressed back against the pillow as you made "hmm" sounds from the pleasure of eating her out for that long, a brief pause when she looked down at you, tapped your shoulder, met your eyes and said "thank you, for staying."
Van didn´t just mean that exact moment, you could tell, so you kissed her lower stomach before looking up at her again and said "always" as if you had years and years ahead of you, because in moments like that, it felt like you did, everything was forgotten, love collapsed time and made the threat of her death vanish into thin air.
#blacked out and wrote this in one go 😭 which was kinda nice tbh#saw her looking rough and wanted to jump through the screen to shield her from all harm like girl.. thats a fictional character.#anyway I would keep her alive forever I would find a way#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets#van palmer#van palmer x reader
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Why won't my man (<- not my man <- delusional <- obsessive) pay attention to me it's like he only texts me when he wants sex (<- literally the arrangement)
#well he's also supposed to be my friend#he's busy as shit tho I'm just a needy clingy bitch!!!!#too old for this and we're not even anything why can't i be normal about it#i just feel people change and it drives me up the wall#but i was crazy to him first (told him my insecurities about getting too attached)#he treats me so softly like more than I'd expect for what we are#and it confuses me#at least if he held that distance i wouldn't be confused#like why are you trying to hold my hand in the grocery store 🤨#aaaahhhh kms whatever#I'm just trying to control myself#i should've known better#journaling#the worst#texting me he's thinking of me 💚 then he's actually only thinking of my pussy. kms#whaaaatever
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Hello Dead Boy Detectives fandom
#Sorry Payne just drives me up a wall I don't understand why the tv shows changed it#& I can't tell if people just don't know how it's spelled originally or if they actually prefer Payne to Paine#I KNOW IT SHOULDN'T MATTER BUT IT FEELS WRONG. TO ME.#dead boy detectives#edwin paine#edwin payne#You could say it even PAINS me. ha ha. ha#dear followers who have no idea what I'm talking about you can vote too whatever#anyway I really liked the show tho
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no series has and probably will never drive me as crazy as trc (exquisite) (derogatory) for better or worse it just makes me feel sick to my stomach 😭 not even in a bad way most of the time
#like i love it so much i want to eat the pages but also it genuinely drives me up the walls some parts of the whole production#are soooooo annoying to me personally......#also it occupies this very weird position in my life because compared to a lot of other art that i love this really feels like one#that would not change any other aspect of my life except for my feelings about this series#a lot of art ive loved has shaped my life in concrete way in that i remember who gote into it/bonded with irl people/felt profoun impact et#but trc is just. i gained some cool online friends. and perhaps saw a perfect depiction of my exact neuroses a cpuple of times.#and yet it drives me INSANNNEEEE
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😕
#scheduled my cat to be put down this Friday#don’t wanna make a post about it but I wanna talk about it#asked my mom to come with to drive me and do the talking. dad asked to come too#except he doesn’t do earnest emotions well and says really stupid and insensitive shit when people are emoting#and I will be sobbing through all this. I already am#on a zoom call with family so they can say goodbye to Chloe and he’s going on about how bad she is sees I’m trying not to cry and says#gee! I don’t think she’ll make it through this! hohoho!#I don’t want anyone to be there with me at all but I know I just won’t be able to talk to the vet and pay#really just a fucked up year. ducked up like 6 years running but whatever#really tired but I can’t sleep. don’t want to talk to people but isolated#I want Chloe’s suffering to be over but I don’t want to let her go.#meanwhile I have bumble person on discord talking to me and it feels like such a slog. I want to ghost. I’m just tired in them and having#to keep up this like essays long reply chain about the minutia of our lives that doesn’t change ever#but that also feels mean because they haven’t been pushy and have been really considerate even when they asked to meet again and I said to#hold off because of my cat and it’s been like two weeks#I haven’t been in instagram because I don’t want fish store person to ask me out#trying to get stuff done for friends baby but realized in all this mess I forgot to block anything. feel like such a failure at everything#making baby presents. keeping my cat alive. making connections#I just don’t want to be perceived at all. I feel like such a non entity#or rather I feel like I should be a non entity. a picture on the wall of a disused room.#I’m so tired.
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my colleague is vaping at the desk next to me and the windows in this office do not open and the vibes are all wrong and I am going to SCREAM
#i have been here 1 hour#this is why i called in sick last friday fuck this#i understand that i signed up for an admin/secretarial role#but frankly i resent it every time i am asked to format someone's document#I HAVE A MASTERS DEGREE I AM CAPABLE OF SO MUCH MORE THAN JUST CHANGING YOUR FUCKING FONT WHICH FRANKLY IT WOULD HAVE TAKEN YOU TWO SECONDS#TO DO YOURSELF#god we love being employed#the vaping is actually driving me up the wall i feel like i cant breathe in here#so many people do it in this office even though im pretty sure its illegal
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Just realized I have 0 super close friends anymore and haven’t really since undergrad. And even in undergrad i never saw them anyway because I pushed myself to graduate early and was always super busy, so I haven’t really hung out with friends regularly and with deep conversations since high school. And wish I could just snap my fingers and fix that
#vent#i’m fine just am stuck in self pity world with no way to actually#ya know#change things rn#my closest friends live an hour away#and no offense to them but they never really are good about texting me back and i’m usually the one texting them first#so it just feels like we aren’t actually friends anymore and i’m just clinging to that memory sometimes#and then my closest friend in my current city was one of my coworkers#and now that i don’t work there anymore and she’s super busy i never see her and always feel like i’m bothering her if i reach out#i know a couple of people at church but not close enough to hang our#or talk to out of the blue#and it doesn’t help that i had my daughter somewhat young#at least to today’s standards and in my age group#AND my church skews old#so the people that are young in my church usually still have kids aged like 6-10#because they’re still older than me#and are busy with completely diff things#i need to get back to going to the women’s bible study except i don’t really like the woman that runs it and that’s awkward#i was going to start a new sunday school until i realized the pastor’s class (that i don’t go to bc the pastor is so disorganized#and it drives me up the wall)#uses the same studies that i love and was so excited to introduce and lead with#so now i’m faced with either starting a new sunday school on a completely different topic which defeats the purpose#or going to a sunday school class for the content that i love but in a teaching style i despise#i still have to nurse evie to sleep every night so i can’t go out in the evening anyway#so even if i had someone to go hang out with and have a girl’s night#i still can’t bc I have to be home by 7 at the absolute latest#and almost everybody else works normal jobs and not work from home part time like me so they’re not free that early in the day usually#or that would only give us like. an hour#i want to do what my husband does and go out and just have a night where i hang out and play games and come home at 11#and ALEX IF YOU’RE READING THIS I’M FINE
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FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/12e6363a0e399820497a3378b8dcc47e/8d526a7a131f8ef5-bf/s540x810/0f2fab67a6c550b8f42c4a5c89b1d9eb50da9ce9.jpg)
SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.
or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.
NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!
PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).
WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.
***
“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”
Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away.
Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well.
Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation.
Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.
Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.
“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?”
“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”
“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.”
“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”
“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm.
“Drive safe.”
When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long.
You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.
Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them.
His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.
Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.
At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash.
Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another.
The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people.
It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another.
Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life.
His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day.
Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life.
Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up.
(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)
Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since.
The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb.
You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own.
The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time.
I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning.
Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes.
Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist.
Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side.
“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.”
You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.”
“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.”
“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.”
“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?”
“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.”
The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay.
“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”
Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft.
“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this.
Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.”
“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh.
“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.”
“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position.
“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you.
Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.
“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.”
“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”
“I’m right here.”
He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him.
“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”
He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”
“Jay said you were asking for me.”
“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you.
“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.”
“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”
“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist.
Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door.
“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys.
“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off.
“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car.
“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp.
“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling.
It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile.
“Need help?”
Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”
Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.
“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”
You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.”
He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried.
He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.
“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”
“What?” you ask. “Why?”
He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”
“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.”
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.
“I love you.”
Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment.
When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him.
You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him.
The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.
“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck.
“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?”
The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.
He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs.
Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over.
You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use.
“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.”
You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.”
He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t.
“Did you have fun tonight?”
Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.”
“Was it any good?”
“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.”
“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone.
“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”
“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”
“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.”
“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face.
“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”
“And clingy, apparently.”
Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose.
While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you.
Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat.
He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy.
“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.”
“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.”
Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh.
“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head.
“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it.
“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.”
“If we wake up early enough.”
You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.”
Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep.
He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.
***
comments and reblogs are appreciated! x
#enhypen x reader#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon x reader#kpop x reader#enha x reader#enhypen imagines#sunghoon imagines#park sunghoon imagines#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon#my writing*
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Embarrassed?
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/378483c7bd9fc1e7bf8157d3c62a74a1/b894a61fe1903e86-11/s540x810/6b7990ca38117af0706c9bbc85b410bd49c1c3b2.jpg)
Tom sat there staring down at his phone, typing like his life depended on it.
"if this is true I will literally trade anything to get bigger, you can make me a dumb jock, make my dick small, Ill even take being a walking joke, you can take anything you like so long as I can get huge!"
He had stumbled upon a site called "give'n'take" which was claiming that it would allow him to trade something he currently has for something he wanted. He had seen claims from guys claiming to of turned into their dream self over night by giving up something that they never really liked about themselves anyway.
But it was Hard for Tom to pick something he wanted to give up, he had almost won the genetic lottery in his eyes. A fat nine inches down stairs, 6.5ft tall, a good amount of body hair, not enough to be annoying but enough to drive guys wild. Everything had made him a walking stud that oozed confidence with every step. All but one thing that is. Tom had loved bodybuilding ever since he could remember, he loved the look of huge guys and he loved the idea of being one, but on his 23rd birthday he looked in the mirror and saw after years of work he looked nothing like a bodybuilder. sure he had some size but there was no real mass. He just looked like a guy who played sport on the weekend. He wanted to be so much bigger. He got hard imagining himself being the guy who had to turn sideways to get through a door or who rocked up to a house party in gym shorts and an XXL stringer tank top that clung to him like it was about to snap. Unfortunately his height was against him, his long muscle fibers took ages to develop and when they did it was so evenly spread out it didn't look like he had done anything at all.
He'd do anything to be bigger, he'd be happy with anything taken away so long as he was huge. So he left the choice up to the people behind the screen.
---
The next morning Tom woke up and instantly felt strange, he felt off balance some how like his body had gone up 30 pounds over night and when he got up and looked in the mirror he realised...it had.
"HOLY SHIT" Tom yelled out into his empty apartment.
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His body had beefed up and become more defined without any more work. He couldn't worship himself for long though as he instantly began investigating to see what had been taken, but it didn't appear like anything was missing at all.
He was still packing, he hadn't shrunk in fact he might of even gained an inch or two and he didn't have any issues remembering anything from his engineering degree or any day to day stuff. The thought crossed his mind that maybe they had forgotten to take something, or maybe because he wanted to be big so badly they cut him a break.
Tom's worries melted away as he smiled and flexed his newly enhanced biceps.
"mmm, not as huge as I was hoping for but I'll keep working on it"
Tom picked up his gym bag and decided to head out to see what his new size could do, and to stick to the habit, he didn't want all this new size to make him forget to work out and end up losing it all in a few months.
Tom arrived at the gym and changed into his workout gear but he looked and felt different was he...bigger? nah, he thought to himself, its just him getting used to being this big although as he stared at his new size in his reflection a new thought entered his mind.
"Maybe this tank top is too tight...I probably shouldn't be such a show off and buy some looser clothes to cover up"
He shook his head and decided to think about it when he got home, right now he just wanted to see how strong he had gotten.
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As Tom worked out something weird was happening, he knew how to exhaust his muscle, he new how to overload the weight and really make it feel like work but as he added weight with each set it felt just as easy as the last.
He'd occasionally see his reflection in the mirror wall and he looked like he was getting even bigger, and his tank top felt even tighter than before. Surely it was just the pump he thought to himself as he continued to lift and push his body.
He sat down at the cable row and put the pin almost at the bottom of all the plates, surely this would be a struggle for him. Tom leant back and pulled when suddenly.
Cutcshhhhhhh!
the sound of ripping fabric rung out in his ear as he felt the shoulder strap snap and felt the fabric split across his back.
"aw shit" Tom said as he stood up and took of his shirt.
Immediately he saw his reflection in the mirror, he looked huge. His muscles bulging he couldn't help but pull his gym shorts up and flex, this is what he wanted to be an absolute tank...
but, everyone probably thought he was a dickhead flexing outside of the changing room, he thought to himself. He started to wonder if he was that guy now, the guy who'd workout shirtless and annoy everyone in the gym.
He noticed a few dudes looking at him like they were waiting to get on the machine. His face turned a slight pink on his cheeks and he was flushed with embarrassment.
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"oh s-sorry" Tom stuttered as he quickly tried to move out the way
Originally he thought he'd just move on to the next exercise but he realised he was shirtless and bolted for the changing room. Once inside he gazed at his reflection again.
"maybe...I shoulda asked to be just a little smaller, fuck now I gotta walk outta here shirtless"
Tom couldn't get a grip and didn't no what had come over him. He had never felt a shred of embarrassment in his life but now he was worried what people would think about him being shirtless in the gym.
The changing room was empty and Tom took the time for a few more poses before he was gonna make a run for the exit. He flexed his arms as hard as he could and felt the blood rushing into the muscle, but it was strange, the muscle wasn't just pumped up, it was like it was still pumping up. He tilted his head and watch in the mirror, slowly but surely his shoulders and arms were expanding, his chest was filling with mass and size. He saw his already huge legs slowly expanding out into colossal pillars as they stretched his shorts. He could hear the fabric starting to strain and quickly bend down to get his gym bag.
The moment he leant over he heard the changing room echo with a large tearing sound as he felt the tightness relieve across his ass. Tom's face turned bright red as he quickly reaches around to make sure it was just the shorts he had split and not his underwear.
He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his underwear was still in tact, he stood up and took a step hearing has his massive thighs tore and split his shorts with just one step. He was almost at the door when he saw his hulking figure in the mirror.
He stood frozen admiring his huge body, he flexed his entire body at once loving how huge he had become, he noticed his underwear was straining and the fabric was starting to become see through and then he remembered....he had to walk through the gym like this to get out....
A wave of embarrassment washed over him, everyone was gonna be staring at him
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Tom quickly grabbed his bag and made a break for it through the busy gym. He had hoped to run but his body was so big that was almost an impossible task, so jogging was next but even just a slight jog left him out of breath and gasping for air. By the time he reached the door he had multiple people staring at him confused as he was huffing and puffing like he had just run a marathon.
He swung open the door to the gym and bumped between two guys that were on their way in. Tom tried to apologise but the only noises that came out were him gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. He flashed a quick apology wave as he climbed into his car which was luckily parked right in front of the entrance.
Tom looked down trying to slow his breathing and catch his breath when he noticed his huge hard on. His dick was like steel, the thought of everyone staring at him....judging him....
Tom started his car trying to ignore it but he heard the two guys he had just bumped into talking, muffled by his window.
"bro did you see that guy, there is just a thing as too big"
Hearing those worse Tom felt a swirl of shame and embarrassment swell in his stomach and work its way to his pelvis as he started taking deep and slow breaths.
"I know right dude, and the way he was so out of breath just walking through the gym, and working out in his underwear? what a loser"
the two men walking into the gym laughing as the door shut behind them
The words echoed in Tom's ears, he couldn't help it, he gripped his steering wheel so tight he thought he was going to break it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes as his dick began to twitch and erupt. Tom let out a pathetic moan as he looked down to see not just his underwear soaked but his car seat and thighs caked in cum.
Tom looked into his rear view mirror, his head, traps and shoulders completely blocking the view, his face was flush as he felt more embarrassed than ever before in his life, He started his car and quickly reversed out.
"god...I'm such..."
His dick instantly got hard again.
"fuck, I'm so big....I'm...too big"
Tom started panting as he drove out of the parking lot.
"I'm a fucking big, freakish, loserrrr--eerruuuuughh!!"
Tom couldn't help unload himself into his underwear and over his car seat thinking about how pathetic he was...
Well...he did say he was happy for them to take anything, His confidence seemed like a fair price.
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : A SECOND CHANCE : :;
╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Hwang In-ho x F!Reader
・❥・GENRE: Fluff
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆FANDOM: Squid Game
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Nothing major! mentions of [Y/N] (sorry), let’s pretend that for the storyline sake’s, everyone in the fanfic is speaking Korean
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: A story where In-ho falls in love with a girl who makes him feel alive again after he had sworn to himself to never love again.
Next part
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IN-HO WAS IN LOVE. It felt strange, almost absurd. Love had been a foreign concept to him for so long, buried under years of bitterness and regret. After everything that happened with his wife, he had promised himself he would never feel that way again. Not for anyone. Love, he decided, was a weakness, a fissure in the armor he had painstakingly built around himself.
When his wife died, it shattered more than just his faith in relationships. It destroyed his faith in humanity as a whole. The games had only made his belief stronger that people were selfish creatures at their core, willing to do anything, betray anyone for survival. He had seen it all firsthand. desperation turning to violence, trust changing into treachery, and the raw, primal instincts that stripped people of their masks. He’d grown numb to it, the horror no longer shocking him, the blood no longer making him flinch. If love once held the power to warm him, it now only served as a warning tale, a reminder of how deeply pain could cut when you let someone in.
So he threw himself fully into the games, immersing himself in their structure and chaos, their cruel order. He told himself he had no room for anything else, no capacity for emotions beyond the cold logic of running the games. It was easier that way, easier to stay distant, detached, and invulnerable. Love was a distraction, and distractions were dangerous in his world.
That was until you entered his life.
Every wall he had built around himself crumbled the moment he laid his eyes on you and he hated it. He hated every little second of it. But what could he do? You were so kind and sweet.
It all started when In-ho returned to Seoul after the 33rd edition of the games was over. First he dropped Seong Gi-hun off somewhere on a sidewalk before he ordered the guard who was driving to drop him off at his apartment.
He was actually dreading to go back home. If he could even call it a ‘home’. He’d much rather stay on the island, but he was forced to go back to Seoul by his boss, Oh Il-nam.
The moment he stepped into his apartment, his heart ached. He tried his best to stay calm as he wandered around the small living space. After his wife died, he moved to a much smaller apartment, not seeing the need of having a bigger place for just himself.
When he walked into the kitchen, he realized that he needed to go grocery shopping as everything he had in his kitchen, had turned bad.
With a sigh he walked back to the front door. He checked if he had his wallet and keys before leaving the apartment.
While heading towards the store In-ho felt empty. He actually felt like he wasn’t alive. Nothing mattered to him anymore. Especially now he was away from the island.
He decided to go to a convenience store nearby as it was already well past midnight. In-ho groaned when he was met with the bright lights of the store as he walked towards the food section.
“Oh come on!”
In-ho looked up. He scanned his surroundings until his eyes fell on a woman trying to reach for something on the highest shelf. It was you.
“Why do i have to be so damn short!” You groaned to yourself while standing on your tippy toes. You were already standing on an empty crate, but you still couldn’t reach the top.
In-ho wanted to look away, but something about you pulled him in. Until he realized that you were staring at him.
“Hey sir? Would you mind helping me?” You asked while trying one more time to reach those instant noodles you so desperately craved.
You watched how the man quickly looked down. He tried to look busy, scanning some products with his eyes before grabbing a lollipop. You could see how the man internally cursed himself for grabbing such a random object.
“I know you heard me.” You said softly, not sounding at all angry. The man sighed to himself before making eye contact again.
“I’m really sorry for bothering you, but I really want those noodles and I can’t reach them. Would you be so kind to help me?” You asked with a slight smile.
In-ho wanted to walk away. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He cleared his throat, placed the lollipop back and walked towards you. “Which one do you want?” He asked while looking at the top shelf.
“That one please.” You pointed at the noodles you wanted and In-ho nodded, grabbed them and handed them to you. “Here you go.” In-ho tried to avoid making eye contact, but he failed when he accidentally looked into your eyes to see you giggling.
“You are really bad at this aren’t you?” You smiled as In-ho awkwardly stood in front of you. “At what?” He asked gruffly. “At being around other people, let alone helping them.” You said softly.
In-ho scoffed and looked away. You tried to hold back your smile as you jumped down the crate you were standing on. In-ho didn’t want to look, but he did. Even when you were standing on the crate, you were still a good amount shorter than him, but now that you were just standing on the floor, the difference only got bigger.
“Well thank you sir for helping me.” You gave In-ho one last smile before heading towards the cashier. In-ho blinked a few times before shrugging it off. He quickly grabbed the items he wanted before following after you.
Why did he feel the need to follow you?
When it was his turn to pay, you were already outside. You were trying to light a cigarette but your lighter wouldn’t work.
A small smile crept onto In-ho’s face as he looked at you and he hated every second of it.
Nonetheless, he was quick with paying for his groceries before walking out of the store. In-ho carefully took a few steps towards you, reaching in his pocket to pull out his own lighter.
“Here.” He said as he held the lighter in front of him. You quickly looked up to see the man again. You looked at his face and then at his hand.
“Thank you.” You said as you grabbed the lighter to light up your cigarette. “It’s nothing.” In-ho mumbled as he grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of his other pocket.
You handed the lighter back and watched how he used it to light his own cigarette before putting the lighter back in his pocket.
It was quiet for a moment. Both not really knowing what to say until you cleared your throat.
“My name is [Y/N].”
In-ho’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you. Why would she introduce herself to me?
Suddenly he realized that you were staring at him, waiting for him to introduce himself as well.
“My name is In-ho.” He said awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck. “Well nice to meet you In-ho.” You smiled as you took a drag from your cigarette.
As In-ho looked at you for a moment, he suddenly realized that he didn’t feel so empty anymore. Was it you that did that? It had to be, what other reason did he have?
“You seem to be deep in thought.” You giggled. In-ho glanced at you which made you smile even more.
“God I thought that I was awkward!” You laughed. In-ho shot you a glare but when he saw you laughing he couldn’t help but crack a slight smile. And you noticed.
“Wow you can smile!” You joked making In-ho roll his eyes. He watched how you threw your cigarette on the ground and stood on it.
“Well I guess I wil see you around, In-ho.” You said softly as you started to head home. “Wait!” In-ho internally cringed at himself for saying something.
You turned around and looked at him. In-ho sighed before speaking. “It’s dangerous to walk alone this late.” He commented, causing you to smile. “Don’t worry, i’ve done it before.”
Why does she have to be so stubborn? In-ho thought to himself. “Let me walk with you.” You seemed surprised by his words and so did he. Why did i say that? “I was going to head that way anyway.” A lie. If In-ho wanted to go home, he actually needed to go in the opposite direction you were heading for. But you didn’t have to know that.
“If that’s true, then sure why not.” You said with a slight shrug and smile. In-ho threw his cigarette away as well and followed after you.
“You didn’t grow up here did you?” In-ho suddenly asked. You looked at your feet and smiled.
“Is it that noticeable?” You asked softly. In-ho lifted his shoulders and let out a deep breath. “You have a slight accent when you speak Korean.”
“Oh…” You said quietly, not sure of what to say now. In-ho quickly tried to think of something to say, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable. So without thinking he said,
“I think it’s rather cute.”
Fuck. Thought In-ho the moment those words left his mouth. Your head shot up at his remark and In-ho quickly looked away.
“I mean…” In-ho stopped talking when he heard you laughing. He slowly turned his face towards you. “You are really, really bad at this.”
In-ho tried his best not to smile, why would he? He had not one reason in his life to smile right now. But somehow he just couldn’t help the way his lips moved on it’s on into a small smile. For a second time! What was happening to him?
“Here this way.” You said as you tugged on In-ho’s sleeve, pulling him into a small alleyway that led to your apartment building.
In-ho let himself be pulled by you and soon enough the two of you had arrived at your apartment.
“Can I have your phone?” You asked suddenly. In-ho raised his eyebrows while giving you a questioning look.
“Please.” You smiled. In-ho didn’t want to give his phone to you. So he had no idea how it ended up in your hands. Did I really just gave her my phone?
You held his phone in front of his face to unlock it and immediately went to his contacts. In-ho watched how you clicked on ‘add a new contact.’ He saw how you wrote down your number and added your name at the top.
Then he watched with wide eyes how you handed him his phone back. “Give me a call sometime.” You smiled at him. In-ho said nothing.
“Thank you for walking me home, In-Ho.” Was all you said before entering your apartment complex, leaving In-ho outside at a loss for words.
“What the...” He mumbled as he suddenly came to his senses and looked down at his phone, staring at your number.
He wasn’t going to call you. He didn’t want to. What would even be the point? He didn’t want friends and he sure as hell didn’t want to fall in love. He had sworn that to himself.
But then why the hell did he call you the next day?
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(A/N): I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS FANFIC!! I FEEL LIKE TUMBLR NEEDS WAY MORE SOFT IN-HO CONTENT, SO WHY NOT DO IT MYSELF?
I’M ACTUALLY PRETTY EXCITED ABOUT THIS FANFIC SO I MIGHT MAKE A PART TWO
WHAT DO YOU ALL THINK?
#squid game x reader#hwang in ho x reader#in ho x reader#lee byung hun#squid game fanfic#lee byung hun x reader#frontman x reader
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RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME
➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST
a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!
summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.
word count: 5.9k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.
NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST
He can hear it when he sleeps.
Their screams.
The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.
There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.
"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.
He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.
Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.
"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."
"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."
"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."
A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."
"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."
"Who?"
"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."
"Who the fuck is they?"
Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."
Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.
"Only when I swallow."
"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."
The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."
Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.
Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.
Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.
He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.
Nothing beyond that.
Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.
"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.
Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."
"Human–”
"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."
Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.
With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.
"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.
"Is it safe for her to own a car?"
The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.
"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."
He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."
The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.
Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.
"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."
He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.
The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.
"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"
Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.
Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.
All because he couldn't do his fucking job.
"Logan–"
He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?
He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.
A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.
His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.
Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.
The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.
"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.
A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."
He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.
"I can't say I've seen you around before son."
He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."
"Coworker huh?"
The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.
Complications which made living that much harder.
The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.
"You look lost."
Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"
"More than some of the others that come around here."
"And who comes around here?"
The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."
He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.
But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.
"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.
"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."
Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"
The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."
"Book night huh?"
"She loved to read."
Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.
"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.
"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."
A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.
You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.
He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"
"Travis."
Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.
"Nice to meet you Logan."
"Yeah you too."
He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.
Fighting meant he could ignore it.
Existing is what made it worse.
The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.
Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.
"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.
But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.
He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.
And there you were.
"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."
You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.
That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.
"Baby, it's me."
The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.
He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.
You saw him as a man.
Not a disappointment.
He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.
But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.
"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"
"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.
He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.
"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.
What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.
"You smell different."
You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."
Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.
"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.
"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.
But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.
Otherwise...what was the point of living?
"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"
"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.
He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.
You were afraid of him.
That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.
That...he couldn't live with.
"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."
Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"
"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."
Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?
He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.
"Did your sister have the baby yet?"
You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."
"Named Wade I hope."
Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."
"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."
Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.
He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.
"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."
"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.
Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.
He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.
Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.
"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."
"How do you know her?"
Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.
"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"
Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"
"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."
"Wade," he bit out.
"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."
"WADE!"
He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."
Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.
"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."
"Knew her? Or knew her."
He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."
Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.
You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.
"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."
"Neighbors."
Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."
Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.
If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.
"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"
His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.
Or so he believed.
"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.
Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.
"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.
You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.
"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."
Logan groaned. "Alright–"
"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"
Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.
"Marvel...Jesus right?"
"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"
Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."
"AND the Wolverine."
Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.
He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.
"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.
Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.
Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.
"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.
Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.
"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."
"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"
You smiled. "I'm just across the street."
"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.
"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.
Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.
The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.
"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."
He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.
Certainly not that he was Wolverine.
"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.
You started to walk. "In what way?"
His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."
"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"
He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."
The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.
"You said were."
Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"
"Were friends. What happened?"
The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.
He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."
"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.
A week before they came.
"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."
Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"
"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.
"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.
"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."
I'll always keep you safe.
Words he refused to say again.
How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.
Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.
"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.
Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.
He didn’t want to be saved.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett x f!reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x y/n#my writing
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I know this is not new information, but I've seen a fresh wave of people confused about what the fuck Andrew planned to do as a 5'0 man with a knife against the literal mafia, so.
I think the fact that neither Neil nor Kevin lost their faith in Andrew’s ability to protect them after he was attacked by Drake (unable to stand his ground against a single man with a bottle, let alone the Yakuza/Nathan with their guns) is the best proof we have that the deal was never about physical protection. This is confirmed by the way Neil never expects Andrew to save him from his father, in fact cuts him loose before Baltimore as soon as danger is truly near.
Andrew is a pretty self-aware character, and he wouldn't make promises he knows he can't possibly see through, so I think he knows what Kevin and Neil also know: what they need from him, and thus what he promises, is not physical protection.
To Kevin, he promises safety from the Moriyamas, and the way we see him enact that safety (at Kathy's show, at the banquet) shows exactly what it's about: when Riko starts getting into your head, when he makes you doubt yourself, makes you think maybe you should go back to Evermore, I won't let you. I will get you away from him, I will treat him like he's just some dude to remind you that you can face him without kneeling. I will be your spine until you find your own, I will stand my ground for you until you can do it yourself.
That's why the scene when Kevin gets to the dorm with his tattoo and Andrew's eyes show so much feeling is huge not just for Kevin but for Andrew: because that was the whole point of their deal, Kevin has found his spine, Andrew bought him the space and time to do it.
To Neil, he promises safety from the people hunting him down, and that means: I will give you something to build a life around (keys, drives to nightly exy practices, someone to lean on, someone who will listen without flinching). When you feel like running, I will be someone you can call to come pick you up. When you forget, I will remind you who you are: Neil Abram Josten.
Andrew stands between Kevin and Riko and between Neil and his father not as an impenetrable wall but as an obstacle in their vision: not shield but focal point.
(Makes me think of that scene in The Haunting of Hill House, Hugh holding Steven's neck to keep him from looking at the ghosts, saying, Look at me, just look at me, keep your eyes on me. That's what Andrew’s constantly doing --even literally, when Kevin is spiralling after Wymack tells the team about the district change and Andrew makes him look away from his broken hand and up at him).
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comfort cuisine
🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k
🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)
Prologue
“I’m so sorry about this,” Johnny’s voice distracts you from the breakfast you’re making, and you turn around from the bacon to look at your friend. “I really wish I didn’t have to keep calling you and asking for favours like this-”
“Johnny,” you shut his rambling up with a pointed expression, “stop, it’s okay.”
“It’s not-”
“John,” you repeat, “seriously, we’re good. Given… the circumstances, I honestly don’t mind.”
The circumstances… neither of you can bring yourselves to say it. You know that if you say it… if you say ‘I don’t mind helping out since the death of your wife’ Johnny will just about break down, and he doesn’t have time to do that, not when he’s got to be at work for seven am, prepping the kitchen and getting ready for the day.
Even by calling this situation a ‘circumstance,’ you can see a half glazed expression overtake Johnny’s face. He’s frozen for a moment, and you take the time to study him.
You think it’s safe to say neither of you expected any of this to happen.
You’d met him in culinary school- he’d been a young guy, a new dad who’d had a daughter at nineteen, with dreams of opening his own sandwich food truck, ‘like Subway, but gourmet,’ he’d always explained.
Now, he’s a twenty four year old wreck, doing his best to climb the ladder in the food service industry, mourning the loss of his late wife, struggling to take care of his daughter, his dreams of a food truck long since forgotten in favour of chasing a head chef status to earn him enough of a salary to pay for everything in a one income household-
“Seriously,” your words snap the single dad back from his zone out, “we’re good. I’m making breakfast for Soonbok, I’ve got her lunch packed, I’ll take her to kindergarten, pick her up after- you just have to remember I have a night shift, gotta be at my own restaurant by five at the latest.”
“Five, yeah,” Johnny nods, swallowing thickly and toying with his daughters small pink backpack. “One day, I’ll be higher up on the food chain, and I’ll have better hours- I promise this isn’t a forever thing.”
“It’s an ‘as long as it needs to happen’ thing, okay? Don’t sweat it,” you assure him. “Here,” you take some of the crispy bacon out of the pan, putting it onto a scrambled egg bagel you’d prepared, “you need breakfast too.”
Johnny just about melts looking at the food. “You’re so good to me.”
You offer him a smile. “That’s what friends are for.”
One
Johnny swears his age is catching up to him. It’s not even four oclock and he’s feeling tired, letting out a groan as he says goodbye to the nightshift guys and heads to change out of his head chef attire in the staff bathroom. He’d turned thirty this year, and as he looks at his face in the mirror, he thinks he’s starting to see it.
On his way out of the back door, Johnny bumps into one of his line cooks. Mark Lee is pressed to the wall where people usually lean to smoke, his girlfriend closing him in with her hands on either side of his head. Back when she was expo, everyone used to call her Sunshine, but in her dealings with Mark Lee, Johnny’s come to realize that he’s the angel, not her.
“Aren’t you two on the clock?” Johnny jokes as he walks past.
Sunshine pulls away from Mark, offering the head chef a grin. “We’re on a vape break.”
“Sure you are,” Johnny laughs, shaking his head. “See you two back in there, better only be five more minutes.”
“Aren’t you done for the day?” Mark asks, confusion written on his face, along with lipstick marks that he’s hurrying to wipe off.
“Grabbing happy hour with a friend, but be careful Mark Lee, I’m always watching. Just because I’m sitting at the bar doesn’t mean I’m not judging you.”
Johnny can hear Mark mutter something under his breath, and Sunshine is quick to try to calm him down, but as Johnny turns the corner to head to the front entrance of the restaurant, he hears the back door open and close, signaling the end of the little ‘vape break.’
When Johnny joins you at the bar, you’re chatting with Jeno, and the sight makes an unexplainable emotion tingle up his spine. Out of all the front of house staff here, Jeno might just be the biggest manwhore, and he’s had a thing for cougars for a while, although there’s only a handful of years difference between the two of you-
“What are you guys talking about?” John asks, taking a seat on the dark green leather hightop stools surrounding the bar.
“Which virgin drinks are the best,” you respond casually. “I was going to get an iced tea, but Jeno convinced me to try one of your new virgin lemon ginger fizzes.”
“That’s called upselling, honey, you should know that, seeing as you’re in the industry,” Johnny grins.
“Yeah, well, you’re the one who invited me here, so I figured you’d be paying.” You take a sip of your straw, looking at Johnny with a smirk, a playful glint in your eyes.
“Are we getting food?” Johnny asks. “I might as well take care of that for you too.”
“I’ve got time,” you respond casually. “Don’t work for an hour, lets get our ‘nosh’ on.”
Johnny can only laugh at your antics, turning to Jeno, who’s watching with an amused grin. Everyone here knows you and Johnny are close, you come here often enough to see him, the two of you catching each other for a half an hour here or there between his day shifts and your night commitments.
Johnny orders three appetizers off the happy hour menu, two things he knows you like, and one that’s more up his alley. “Make sure Yuta isn’t back there slacking off,” Johnny warns Jeno, knowing that two of the items will be coming from the ‘bottom end’ of the expo line, which is where Yuta runs the show after Johnny’s off.
“I’m sure he’ll pull out all the stops for our MVP,” Jeno grins, typing the order into an ipad. “Do you want a beer? We’ve got new rotators.”
“Don’t bother trying to upsell me,” Johnny scoffs. “House Lager, and don’t fuck around with the foam.”
“You run a tight ship here, captain,” you tease, bumping Johnny’s elbow.
“Speaking of-”
“Don’t try to recruit me to work here again,” you’re quick to warn.
“Damn it,” Johnny shakes his head, pretending to be quite upset about your rejection. He does feel it- he does think you’d be a great member of the team, and he’d love to offer you a dual head chef position, but it’s not in his power to do so, and that fact haunts him every day. Working for a company limits what he’s able to do, and sometimes, even at age thirty, Johnny still thinks about his dream to open a food truck, with you by his side. “No, in all seriousness, I wanted to talk to you about Soonie’s birthday.”
“Right, she’s turning eleven soon, that’s quite the milestone,” you grin, playing with your straw.
“I asked Doyoung if I could open early for her birthday, it’s a Sunday, I was thinking some of her friends and their parents could come in for a brunch an hour before we’re open for the public.”
“That’s a great idea!”
“Here’s the catch, Soonie was raised on your breakfast food. As much as I try to make things for her, and I hate to admit this, by the way, she always says your cooking is better. So I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come in that day and help me out with all of this. With your skills, I wouldn’t need Hyuck and Mark, it could be just us, and I’m sure we could make a birthday breakfast Soonbok would never forget. It would be like old times, like back when we were in culinary school.”
He loves the way you’re smiling at him, giving him space to rant.
When he’s done, you cock your head to the side, only wasting one beat before you say, “I’ll do it.”
“Really? I don’t have to bribe you with money or anything?”
“Jeeze, have I ever asked you for money, John?” You smack at his arm, clearly slightly offended. “I’m doing this for Soonie… and maybe a little for you too.”
“Don’t go soft on me, killer,” Johnny teases. “Everyone around here’s too soft these days.”
“Says the softest dad I know,” you roll your eyes.
“Shh,” he warns, “don’t say that loud enough for Jeno to hear.”
“As if everyone doesn’t already know.”
The two of you continue to chat and joke, a short while later, the head manager, Doyoung, shows up carrying food. It’s funny for Johnny to see Doyoung balancing two items on one arm, the third in the palm of his hand, but he supposes Doyoung started somewhere too, the same way John had.
“VIP happy hour appetizers,” Doyoung sighs, setting the food down.
“As opposed to regular happy hour appetizers?” you grin, immediately reaching for a fry.
“These are special,” Doyoung insists, “pretty sure Yuta spit in them.”
Doyoung is a pretty regal man, he’s not one to joke around- but for some reason, when Doyoung is in your vicinity, he loosens up a little. Everyone loosens up around you, you radiate a safe space kind of energy, the kind of energy that makes Johnny’s tense shoulders relax, his smile softening.
“Then I’ll be sure to eat all of this,” you respond. “Tell Yuta more spit.”
Doyoung shakes his head at you. “I’m sure Johnny’s tried to poach you already, but if you ever want a job, you can have his.”
“Hey!” Johnny laughs.
“I’ll consider it,” you grin.
“And I expect a plate of food for this brunch thing,” Doyoung continues. “I’ve heard nothing beats your breakfasts, even though you work nights.”
“Someone has been talking about me again,” you muse, eyes shifting to John.
“What can I say?” He holds his hands up in defense. “I speak only the truth.”
“Your reputation precedes you,” Doyoung insists. “Anyways, have fun you two, I’ve got food to run, our new expo girl isn’t filling Sunshine’s shoes too well.”
There’s a glint in Doyoung’s eye before he scurries away, and Johnny turns to watch the new expo girl practically short circuiting with take out orders on the line.
“Poor girl,” you sigh. “It takes a certain kind of person to work in a restaurant.”
And an even more specific type to do what the two of you do as chefs.
Two
You’ve been on a few first dates this year, and this one is definitely a bottom three. You’ve had one drink, and you already feel like finding a way to slip out early.
Initially, you’d been intrigued by dating a man in finance, but it’s clear now that you’re in two completely different worlds- and to make matters worse, he mostly talks about himself. He’s oozing this obnoxious confidence that makes you grimace every time you sip your drink, and not from the alcohol.
Your date is in the bathroom when Johnny calls.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you!” His voice warms your heart. “So Soonie is at a sleep over tonight, and I was thinking about making a Soonbok style menu for her birthday, all Soonie style names for food and such, planning a menu just for her- are you up to anything? Can I go through it with you?”
“Actually…” your gaze shifts to the bathrooms, “I’m on a date.”
“Oh.”
“It’s going so bad, and planning Soonie’s birthday would be such a better use of my evening. Listen, can you come pick me up? I’ll text you the address, you can come and call me when you’re outside, pretend it’s a family emergency or something-”
“You got it, I’ll be there right away.”
Fifteen minutes later, you’re hopping into Johnny’s car, letting out a deep sigh of relief.
“That bad, huh?” he asks.
“I don’t even want to talk about it right now,” you groan.
“Here, distract yourself,” Johnny hands you a piece of paper, and you realize it’s a mock up menu for Soonbok’s birthday. “This is just a prototype, I was messing around with styles on some fucking site called Canva-”
“I didn’t know you were good at this sort of thing,” you gasp, taking in the intricate fonts and colouring.
“The site did all the work, trust me,” Johnny scoffs, pulling out into traffic. “Read it over and let me know what you think.”
You begin to scan the menu. There’s Soonie Side Up Eggs, and Boken Avocado Bennies, Soonbok Style Slapjacks and Suh Family Breakfast Sammies.
“I’m shocked you came up with this many names related to Soonie and Suh,” you say.
“I spent my entire shift thinking about them in the back of my mind while I worked,” Johnny admits. “They’re not cheesy or anything, right?”
“They’re definitely cheesy,” you confirm, “but Soonie is going to love them. You’ve always been cheesy, John, and she adores you for it.”
You notice Johnny’s skin turning a little red, and it’s not just from the reflection of the traffic light illuminating the inside of his car while you wait for it to go green.
You continue to study the menu, thinking hard the entire way back to Johnny’s house.
He’s got a modest three bedroom townhouse, with his and Soonbok’s rooms on the top floor, and the guest bedroom on the main floor with the kitchen and living room. The kitchen is, without a doubt, the heart of the home, and the two of you make your way there as soon as you’re past the threshold.
“I have some thoughts,” you admit, setting the menu down and pointing at one of the items. “Soonbok toast,” you announce, a twist on french toast, “it says here that it comes with a berry compote. I can tell that this is one of the dishes more geared toward others, because if this was really for Soonie, you’d know that your daughter doesn't even touch berry or apple crisps. She picks at the oat brown sugar on top, but doesn’t like cooked berries or fruits.”
“Yeah…” Johnny leans next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “That was the only one I wasn’t sure on, but for brunch, you have to have a french toast option, right?”
“We can still do french toast, but I think every menu item should be something she’d actually love, don’t you agree?”
“A hundred percent.”
“What if, instead of berry compote, we do an brown sugar glaze type sauce?”
“That could be doable,” Johnny admits. “Should we try to make one now?”
“Can we do it in the morning?” you ask. “Honestly, I had one drink at the bar, I’m tired after a long shift, and I’m ready to have a few more drinks then pass out.”
“Drinks are a good idea,” Johnny grins, already heading to the fridge. “It will give me more time to think about how to make the brown sugar glaze, and I’ll get on top of that in the morning.”
“Exactly. Chef hours are over, we can just relax,” you insist, heading to collapse on his couch.
“Chef hours are never over,” Johnny reminds you, cracking open a beer and approaching so he can hand it to you.
“It’s one of the reasons dating is so hard in our profession,” you sigh, taking a swig of your drink.
“The hours make it tough,” Johnny nods.
“So does the mentality,” you remind him. “We just… we think a little differently than others. We’re all a little too committed to our work.”
“That’s not always a bad thing, you’ve just gotta find someone you’re compatible with, someone who will appreciate that about you.”
“Says one single chef to the other,” you laugh.
Johnny clinks his bottle against your own before taking a large gulp. “Touche.”
Three
Johnny is doing his best to work quietly, aware that the guest bedroom is just a short distance from the kitchen as he whips up eggs for the french toast batter.
He manages to get all the way through to the cooking before you sleepily putter into the kitchen, adorned in one of his spare shirts for when you sleep over unexpectedly. You look adorable, but Johnny can’t bring himself to focus on you as he perfects the brown sugar glaze, careful not to burn it.
“Almost done,” he calls over his shoulder, “take a seat then try this with me?”
“It smells good,” you tell him, pulling out a chair at the island kitchen counter.
“Thanks, honey, I was up last night thinking about it- had to wake up early to try it out.” He lifts the french toast onto a plate, dipping a spoon into the glaze to coat the breakfast. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”
“The smell did,” you muse, grinning as he brings the french toast toward you, setting it down and opening a drawer to retrieve two sets of utensils.
The two of you cut into the toast, and you lift your fork. “Cheers,” you grin, and Johnny touches his food to your own before you both go in for a bite.
The french toast is cooked to perfection, and although the brown sugar glaze is a little sweet for his liking, Johnny knows Soonie’s sweettooth will appreciate this adjustment to the recipe.
But when Johnny lifts his gaze to you, he sees apprehension in your eyes. “Did you like it?” he enquires.
“It’s really good, don’t get me wrong,” you assure him quickly, “I just think… maybe it’s missing one or two things.”
“Like what?”
“Mmm…” you cock your head to the side, “we both know Soonbok is a fan of nuts, peanut butter is her usual go to but she likes others too- what if we finely chop some pecan or walnut and add that in somehow?”
“That could work,” Johnny nods.
“Do you mind if I take a crack at it?” you ask.
Johnny laughs. There are very few people he’ll allow to use his kitchen, and luckily you’re the one at the top. You’ve been cooking here for so many years that he doesn’t have to guide you to anything, you stand up and immediately go in search of details to make your french toast masterpiece come to life, and Johnny happily takes a back seat while he finishes his own creation.
You go for a bag of pecans, dumping a small amount onto a cutting board before you begin to finally chop, leaving an array of different sizes of chunks. Soonie has always been a texture specific child, and Johnny loves how you incorporate all the little quirks of his daughter into your cooking like this.
In a pan with some butter, you begin to toast the nuts, getting prepped on your bread by using the already made batter he’d created earlier. As you put the toast into the pan and check the nuts, you cock your head to the side again, an endearing trait you do when you’re thinking.
“What about oats?” you suggest.
“Do whatever you think is best,” Johnny encourages you, heading to the fridge to grab some orange juice and a nearly empty bottle of prosecco he’d opened for a recipe two nights ago.
Johnny watches you add oats to the browning pecans while he makes mimosas, and in no time at all, you’re plating the french toast, with a spoonful of the newly toasted additions, and a few spoonfuls of brown sugar glaze.
“There,” you announce, bringing the food to the table. “I added a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar to the buttered nuts and oats while you were making drinks.”
“Cheers,” Johnny grins, lifting a forkful of your creation to gently touch it to your own.
As soon as he bites into it, Johnny knows that this is a winner. The crunch of the nuts, and the oats- the added fats of the butter- the slight taste of cinnamon on the toppings-
“Wow,” he breathes, leaning back in his chair. “Soonie really wasn’t joking when she said you’re the best breakfast chef in town.”
“Stop it,” you laugh. “You made the glaze! We did this together!”
Johnny goes for a second bite. “This is the stuff that will stick to your ribs,” he muses, not caring that the calorie content was just inflated by the addition of butter and nuts, “Good ol’ comfort food.”
“No, John, you’re a head chef now, this is comfort cuisine,” you correct him with a grin.
Johnny swears your eyes are sparkling as you smile at him, and it makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s times like these that he realizes just how smitten he is with you. You’ve been there for him, through thick and thin. There’s no way he’d be where he is now without you, and he’s not even sure if you know the full extent of it.
But at the same time, because you’re his rock, Johnny doesn’t want to overstep. He can’t lose you, not now, not ever. Soonie lost her mom to a car crash when she was three, and there’s no way in hell Johnny’s going to do something that could potentially make her lose you too.
Four
“Hey, you,” you grin, finishing pouring your glass of wine while you put your favourite chef on speaker.
“Hey, yourself,” Johnny responds, and you can practically hear the smile in his own voice. “Listen, uh, I need to ask you for a favour.”
“Shoot.”
“Two of my line chefs called in today before dinner- pretty sure they’re both hungover or something. Anyways, I’m staying, and it’s a busier night than projected- Soonie is done Girl Guides at seven, and I know it’s your night off, so if you’re busy I can find someone else, but-”
“I’ve got you,” you interrupt him. “Girls night with my favourite girl is a better plan than I had.”
“Really? You sure?”
“A hundred percent.”
“I’d say I owe you one, but at this point, I probably owe you more like a thousand.”
“And don’t you forget it,” you laugh, pouring your wine back into the bottle. “Take care of work, and I’ll take care of our girl.”
A couple hours later, you’re in Johnny’s familiar kitchen, making spiced popcorn and virgin cocktails. Soonie wants to be a chef, just like her dad, and she’s getting better every day. You love giving her soft instructions and lending a helping hand on bigger jugs of juice that her tiny fingers can’t quite hold.
Soonbok has a love for all things disney and music, and although this is probably the third time you’re watching it with her, the two of you settle in for the live action Ariel.
While Johnny is primarily a chef, back when you were in culinary school, he used to sing to himself when he was working. He was always quiet, but loud enough for you to listen to his beautiful voice. Like her father, Soonbok has a way with music, and you adore watching the eleven year old belt out Ariel songs.
She’s tuckered out from Girl Guides however, and about halfway into the movie she cuddles up next to you, her eyelids beginning to droop.
When Johnny comes home as the film is ending, Soonie is fast asleep, and you quickly motion at him to be quiet as he steps through the door.
Johnny is careful as he sets his keys and bag down, kicking off his shoes and putting away his jacket. He tiptoes toward the two of you. “How long has she been out?” he whispers.
“Half an hour or so,” you respond in a hushed tone. “How was work?”
He lets out a sigh. “Could have been better, but I’m home now. Should I get this little one to bed?”
You nod, watching the way Johnny bends down to gently lift his daughter off the couch. She stirs in his arms. “Daddy?”
“Hi, Soonie,” he beams down at her. “Did you have a good girls night?”
“Can y/n stay longer?”
Johnny’s eyes shift to you, and a smile forms on your lips. “I guess I can’t say no to Soonie, can I?”
“Here’s the deal, Soonie, y/n can stay longer, but I’ve gotta put you to bed. You had a long day, didn’t you, sweet girl?”
“Uh huh.” Soonie yawns, cuddling closer to Johnny’s chest, and the sight makes you melt.
Johnny carries her out of the living room and up to the second level. He takes some time tucking her in, and then he comes back down to join you, holding two beers in his hands.
“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.
“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”
“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”
“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink.
Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.
“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”
“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”
You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue.
“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”
You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?
You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.
But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.
Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.
Five
It’s a pretty slow day after the lunch rush, so Johnny is sitting in the back office with Doyoung while they pick at their food. They often eat together once things settle down, and today is no different.
What is different, however, is the topic of conversation Doyoung brings up. “How’s y/n doing?” he asks, taking a bite of his salad.
“She’s good. She helped me lock in a french toast recipe for Soonie’s birthday, so that was pretty helpful.”
“That’s nice,” Doyoung nods, “but I’m more interested in what’s going on between the two of you.”
“What do you mean?” Johnny asks, looking up from his schezwan beef noodle bowl.
“I mean, you two have been friends for a long time. There’s a lot of history there.”
Johnny’s shocked that Doyoung is bringing this up. Out of all of the chef’s coworkers, he had not pegged Doyoung as being the man to bring up relationship gossip, and the whole thing takes him off guard for a moment.
“We’re good friends,” Johnny says finally.
“I know that,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “What’s holding you back from being more? It’s clear how much you two care about each other.”
Johnny looks down at his food, using his chopsticks to play around with a red pepper. “We do care about each other,” he confirms. “She was there for me with Soonie when no one else was, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”
“So why don’t you tell her how you really feel about her?” Doyoung presses. “It’s obvious in the way you look at each other- a smart woman like y/n, I’m shocked she hasn’t figured it out for herself by now.”
“I think, because of our history, there’s this… invisible line,” Johnny tries to explain. “Things are good the way they are now, if I try to mess with that… I could lose everything. And I wouldn’t just be losing it for myself, I’d be losing it for Soonie too.”
Doyoung lets out a breath, turning to face Johnny. “I get that it’s hard, but, you’ve got two paths ahead of you. If you give it a try, it could either end well, or badly. But if you keep yourself in this weird middle friend zone place, it’s like you’ve created a house at the crossroads, and that will never lead you anywhere.”
“When did you become so wise about love?” Johnny scoffs.
“Sumi has helped me with it,” Doyoung admits. “I met her here, we started off as friends. I’m her manager, so I had my own reasons for never taking the leap. I had my own house at the crossroads.”
“What made you finally give it a try?”
“She was there for me when my dad died,” Doyoung frowns. “Anyone can be there for you when things go badly, but when a woman truly gives her all to making things easier on you- it’s not something that should be ignored. After everything you and y/n have been through, you both deserve to give it a try.”
“How are you so sure she’d want to give it a try?”
“Because she looks at you the way you look at her.”
Six
Cooking with Johnny might just be the easiest thing in the world. You’d thought that, due to it being Soonie’s birthday, maybe tensions would be high, but as the two of you collaborate in the kitchen, bumping hips and easily communicating, things feel as they always have: easy.
Within fifteen minutes, the two of you have seamlessly cooked thirteen breakfasts for yourselves, Soonie, her four friends, and six adults… well, seven, if you include the Boken Avocado Bennies you’d whipped up for Doyoung.
While there are a number of staff puttering around doing pre-opening tasks, it’s Doyoung who takes the time to help you and Johnny bring all the food to the table. You love watching the stoic manager announce the Soonie-inspired brunch food names, and it’s clear that Soonbok is also enamoured by the shift in Doyoung’s countenance.
Before everyone begins to eat, you take a group picture on Johnny’s phone, loving the massive smile on Soonie’s face.
As you’re about to sit down, Johnny asks one of the other moms to take a picture of just you, him and Soonie. With the two of you on either side of the birthday girl, you can’t help but think that this feels like a family picture.
In a way, Johnny and Soonie are your family- but in the same breath, you’re cognisant of the fact that - had circumstances been different - it would be Soonbok’s mom in this picture right now, and not you. These are shoes that can simply never be filled, no matter how much you wish you could.
The thought isn’t one you like to hold on to, and it’s a thought that’s popped into your head innumerable times throughout the years. Taking your seat next to the birthday girl, you watch her try the french toast, her eyes lighting up.
On top of her own food, Soonie picks at yours and Johnny’s. Both of you are more than happy to share so she can taste more than just one of the special items Johnny had concocted for her.
Brunch is full of laughter and girlish giggles that light up the deserted restaurant. It’s clear how important Johnny has made Soonie feel today, and that brings you more joy than you could ever express out loud.
As things wind down, you and Johnny begin clearing plates to the dishpit. The two of you are shoulder to shoulder, and you’re overwhelmed by an odd sense of longing that you can’t quite describe.
Johnny turns to you, mouth opening as if he’s about to say something- but as servers pass behind you, it’s clear that there’s no room for him to say whatever it is that he wanted to say to you.
You clear your throat, watching a line chef pop up next to Johnny to stack the dishes for dishwasher prep. “You should go back to Soonie,” you tell him, “I’ll finish up with the cleanup.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Of course, it’s Soonie’s day, go be with her.” You offer him a smile, and Johnny reacts by reaching out to squeeze your hand.
Without another word, he leaves you to your thoughts, and the feeling of need that’s growing steadier and steadier in your chest.
Seven
Johnny doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. Soonie’s birthday was yesterday, and today's day shift had been quite slow. He’s feeling restless with Soonie over at a friend’s place tonight, and he tries to drown himself in liquor- whether it be to chase away the loneliness or to gain courage, he’s not sure, but by nine oclock, Johnny finds himself dialing up your number.
“Hey, you,” you answer.
“Hey, yourself,” he grins. “Watcha up to?”
There’s a pause, and Johnny can hear people in the background. “I’m out actually.”
“Oh?” Johnny’s spirits dampen. “Out on another hot date?”
“Not so hot actually.”
Johnny bites at his lip. “I’ll let you go anyways.”
“It’s alright, I stepped out when you called. Do you need something?”
“I guess…” Johnny takes a breath. “I got into the liquor-”
“Say no more, I’ll be right over.”
Eight
“So…” Johnny grins as the two of you head into his kitchen, “how did the date go?”
You scoff, watching him pour a glass of wine. “How do you think it went? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
“I mean… I am pretty hard to compete with,” Johnny flashes you a sexy grin… and proceeds to knock over the glass of wine. “Shit- fuck!”
“Listen, you go take a seat, and I’ll clean this up,” you laugh, watching him lumber toward the sofa. You make quick work of the mess, and when you’re done, you approach him in the living room.
“Come sit,” he prompts, patting the spot right next to him.
“Someone’s feeling awfully cuddly today,” you giggle when he grabs your hand to pull you down where he wants you, leaving no space between the two of you.
“What can I say? I’m a cuddly drunk.”
“I can see that,” you note, assessing him.
His gaze dips to your lips, and your skin tingles.
“Thank you for yesterday,” he says quietly.
“I told you, I was happy to help for Soonie’s special day.”
“It’s not just that,” he insists, “you’re always happy to help. I seriously-” he swallows thickly, “I seriously couldn’t have done anything I’ve done without you.”
“Don’t be so self deprecating,” you warn him, gently pushing his shoulder. “You’d have gotten anywhere you wanted, with or without me.”
“I still don’t have a food truck,” Johnny pouts.
You’d thought maybe he’d given up on that dream- although you’ve held onto hope for Johnny, more than he knows. “Now that you mention it, actually,” you say, pulling out your phone, “I’ve been looking at food trucks for sale online for a minute, and-”
Johnny’s gaze softens. “You’ve been researching for me?”
“Just a little,” you brush it off, trying to find the listing that you’d saved three days ago. “I found this decent looking one at a good price-”
“I think I love you.”
“Huh?” you freeze.
“I didn’t mean it,” Johnny says immediately, and your heart sinks. “I don’t think I love you, I know I do.”
“John, please, that’s the liquor talking.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he insists. “Look, you’ve always been there for me. We work together- and not just because we’re both chefs. Something about this,” Johnny gestures between the two of you, “it just works, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”
“Yeah?” You decide to play a little coy, seeing as this confession is coming from a drunk man. “And who else sees it?”
“Doyoung, for one.”
“Doyoung?” You let out a laugh. “Have you been gossiping about me with him?”
“I swear I didn’t bring it up,” Johnny defends himself. “Doyoung said I look at you with love, and that… that you look at me the same way.”
“Well… maybe Doyoung needs to get his eyes checked?”
“Don’t play with me,” Johnny begs, pulling you closer. “There’s always been a line between us, one we’ve both been too scared to cross… but, I think-”
“Now you’re crossing it,” you finish for him. “What made you want to do that?”
“Soonie’s birthday,” Johnny admits. “Our little family picture.”
“Our family picture,” you repeat, melting inside at the fact that he’d viewed the photo in the same light you had.
“Yeah.” Johnny nods. “Our family. Mine, and yours.”
His hand finds your thigh, and you can’t help but reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across his angular bones. “I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.
“We don’t have to say anything,” Johnny assures you. “Just kiss me, and we can forget about the world for a minute.”
Your heart is racing in your chest as you hesitantly close the distance between your lips. It’s a gentle first kiss, but it soon grows hungry, and you’re not sure if that’s due to his appetite or your own.
His tongue swipes across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, letting out a soft sigh as you get lost in the feeling of the man who’s been your best friend for years.
His hand on your thigh squeezes, and before you know it, he’s pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dig into the sofa on either side of him, and you’re hesitant to fully sit down- a kiss is a kiss, but grinding on Johnny is something else entirely.
“Johnny,” you whisper, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, wondering how you got into this situation.
“Yes, honey?” He presses kisses along your throat that have tingles shooting up your spine.
“You’re drunk,” you say finally.
“If I’d known you liked me too, I would have done this ages ago.”
“It’s not about that,” you laugh. “It’s about the fact that you’re drunk, and I want you sober when we do this.”
“Do what?” he teases, squeezing your hips, his tongue grazing over your jugular.
“You know what,” you retort with a huff. “Look, you’re right about the line neither of us wanted to cross.”
Johnny pulls away from your throat, looking up at you. “Huh?”
“The line. The unspoken line. All these years, something has been there, between us- but, we both respect your wife, we respect Soonie- I think… I think the time is right for this now, well, not right now, but, once you’re sober again.”
“You’re right,” Johnny concedes.
“How about we watch a movie, then we can go to sleep.”
“You’ll stay over?” There’s a boyish excitement in his voice and it makes you melt.
“Uh huh.”
“Will you stay in my bed with me?”
“Just for cuddles, but only if you promise to drink a bunch of water before we sleep, I don’t want you hung over in the morning.”
Johnny grins. “You got it, honey.”
Nine
Johnny wakes up next to a warm body, and it’s the first time in years. Your presence is the only thing that proves to him that last night wasn’t a dream, some twisted fantasy- No, you’re real, and you’re here, and you’d kissed him back-
He stays cuddled with you for a while, basking in the glow of being in love, truly in love, and finally able to admit it to himself. It’s been so long since his wife, and part of him had forgotten the feeling- maybe that’s why it had taken years for him to realize how much he adores you.
After a while, Johnny decides he needs some water- and he wants to make breakfast for you. He wants to spoil you the way you spoil him.
Johnny is careful as he exits the bed, taking one last look at your peaceful face before heading down to the kitchen.
It’s easy for Johnny to get lost in the act of cooking, focusing on bacon at first before switching to eggs. As it was a few days ago, the smell of food wakes you up, and soon you’re joining him by the stove.
“Watcha making?” you ask, wrapping your body around his.
God, the feeling of you is- fuck, he can’t even describe how good it is.
“Wanted to make you breakfast,” he tells you, plating your food first. Once he has you settled and sitting, he quickly throws together a breakfast sandwich for himself.
“You and your sandwiches,” you laugh, digging into your bacon and eggs.
“How did you sleep?” he asks, coming to join you.
“So well,” you tell him, bumping your knee against his own, “even if someone snores.”
Johnny can only laugh, he’s dealt with Soonbok complaining about his loud snoring for years. “How are the eggs?”
“Good!”
You’re so chipper this morning, and he loves it. Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich- you’d cooked the eggs at the brunch birthday two days ago, and he realizes Soonie was right. “Your eggs are better,” he muses.
“I’d planned on making breakfast for you, but you jumped the gun, big guy.”
“I wanted to pamper you for a change.”
“Cooking is my love language,” you tell him. “I’m excited to make you breakfast more often.”
“I like the sound of that,” he smiles.
“When’s Soonie come home?”
Johnny checks the clock on the stove. “In an hour or so.”
“As much as I’d love to see her, I think maybe it’s better if I’m not here when she gets home,” you say thoughtfully. “She’s a smart girl, I bet she’d be able to tell that something is up.”
“She definitely would,” Johnny confirms. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you that much if you stick around.”
You giggle, reaching over to squeeze his knee.
“How are you feeling about last night?” Johnny asks.
“I’m feeling good, how about you? Still remember all of it?”
“In perfect detail,” he breathes. “Although… a little reminder wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you tease as he leans in, cupping your face so he can press his lips to your own.
God, you’re such a good kisser. It just works. It’s hard for him to even pull away, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.
“Take me out on a date,” you say.
“Hmm?”
“A date,” you repeat. “Just because we’ve known each other for years doesn’t mean we can skip steps.”
“I respect that,” Johnny nods. “I’ve got a busy week, and it will have to be a night where Soonie is out, but… we’ll make it work.”
Johnny’s so certain it will work, because things between you have always worked, and he can’t wait to see where this takes you.
Ten
It’s been a week, but finally Johnny found time for that date night. Soonie is out with friends again, so it’s the perfect opportunity to get some alone time with the man who’s been on your mind constantly.
He picks you up in his old Dodge truck, compliments your outfit, and refuses to tell you where you’re going or what the plan is.
When you arrive back at his place, you’re honestly not even surprised. “Let me guess, you took me to the best chef in town?”
“You know all my lines, honey,” he grins.
“So, chef, what’s on the menu?”
“I thought maybe you’d take a seat and let me cook for you.”
“As if I’d take a back seat,” you scoff. “What are we making?”
Johnny had made hand made fettucini before he’d come to pick you up. You let him take lead in making a white wine, garlic cream sauce with button mushrooms, spinach and crispy prosciutto, but you insist on being his sous chef and taking care of the chicken.
The smell is heavenly, and as he finishes it all off with fresh herbs, you think you start to drool a little.
“For a guy who claims to specialize in sandwiches of all things, you’re pretty good with italian,” you muse as you take your first bite and nearly moan.
“I’m pretty good with a lot of things,” Johnny laughs.
“Look at you being all cocky.”
“You love it.”
He’s so right.
The two of you chat and laugh together while eating. It’s one of the best meals you’ve had in a very long time. When dinner is over, Johnny suggests a movie. As the two of you settle on the couch, he prompts you to come closer, and soon, the two of you are cuddled together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He’s so warm and comforting- you find yourself dozing off a little, although, maybe it’s something of a food coma from all the pasta.
Johnny brings his lips to your ear, and you shiver when he asks, “Should I carry you to bed, honey?”
Part of you wants to tell him you’re not Soonie and you won’t be calling him daddy any time soon- but another part of you wants to lean into this. It’s been so long since you felt like you could be babied, and if anyone is going to bring out that side of you, it’s going to be Johnny.
“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask, cognizant of the stairs he’ll have to climb.
“Have you seen my arms? I won’t drop you, honey, I promise.”
You allow him to scoop you up, and you feel like a giggling school girl again as he takes you up to his room. “Do you have a shirt I could wear to sleep?”
“Choose anything,” he tells you. “When you’re changed, you can join me in the bathroom, I went and got a toothbrush for you.”
Before you know it, you’re cuddled in Johnny’s bed, wearing panties and one of his big shirts. He’s pressed to your back, his mint tinged breath warm on the nape of your neck. There’s no pressure for sex, no pressure for anything other than the situation at hand, and you can tell you’re both very content with it.
Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of a man who’s been a cornerstone of your life.
It’s a deep, dreamless sleep, and it passes in the blink of an eye. You awaken to light beaming through his window, a warm body behind you, and something hard pressed against your ass.
You laugh to yourself- morning wood isn’t something men can help. Even so, you stir a little, adjusting to get more comfortable.
Johnny releases a sleepy groan.
You stay still, not wanting to wake him, but it feels like the damage is already done when he wraps you tighter in his embrace. “Morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“Hi,” you respond lightly.
Now it’s Johnny’s turn to shift, and you feel his body tense when he does so. “Fuck,” he goes to pull away, “sorry, I uh-”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, grabbing his forearm so he can’t move away, “keep cuddling me.”
Johnny returns, flush against your back, his hard cock pressing even more firmly to your ass.
“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” he asks.
“More than okay with it.”
“Yeah?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your throat. “Are you okay with this, too?” Johnny mumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin.
“Uh huh,” you sigh, wiggling your bum back against him and arching your neck to give him better access.
His hand finds your hip, gently squeezing you through the shirt you’re wearing. His lips are soft against you, but there’s a need in his motions too, and he begins to grind against your ass.
You let out a groan when he finds the sweet spot just below your ear, and he licks at it, making you moan louder.
“Are we going to do this?” he asks, nipping at your earlobe.
“Fuck it, yes.” You can’t hold back anymore, you turn in his embrace, quickly mounting him and smashing your lips to his own.
Johnny grins into the kiss, holding your hips while you settle on top of him, grinding down against his clothed cock while your tongues begin to clash.
His kisses have you seeing stars, your mind going blank except for him.
Soon, his hands slip under your shirt, slowly grazing up your sides. “Can I take this off of you?” he asks.
You open your eyes to look down at him, studying his pretty lips and his chocolate eyes.
Instead of responding, you sit up, grabbing the hem of the oversized T and lifting it over your head, tossing it to the side and baring yourself to your best friend for the first time.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, gaze falling to your tits. His hands stay at a respectable location on your hips, and you grab one to lift it to your breast, adding pressure so he knows he’s allowed to give you a test squeeze.
Johnny begins to massage you, and you throw your head back, releasing a groan, swiveling your hips against him.
His thumb brushes over your hardened nipple and you mewl loudly, core throbbing from the stimulus.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, propping himself up so he can take your nipple into his mouth.
You cup the back of his head, keeping him on your chest while he worships you. His other hand finds your neglected breast, gently pinching and massaging while he sucks on your sensitive bud.
“John-” You don’t even know what to say, you’re entirely wrapped up in him.
You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch.
Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
Johnny pulls away from your breasts, cupping the back of your head and drawing your lips to his again. “We should take our clothes off,” he suggests.
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all week,” you laugh.
He helps you off of him, and you lay next to each other for a moment, both fumbling to get naked. As soon as you’re fully nude, Johnny rolls on top of you, slotting between your thighs. His lips find yours again, and his free hand trails down your body, teasing through your pussy lips.
“You’re already so wet,” he muses.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” you admit.
“Me too,” he assures you, capturing your mouth with his own while he teases a finger into your hole. You push your hips up, wanting more, and you latch onto his strong shoulders, moaning into the kiss.
Johnny’s a big man, and his finger is enough to have you wriggling below him. “Easy, honey,” he grins, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. “Gotta stretch you open.”
“Fuck,” you groan- does this man read erotica in his spare time? How is a thirty year old, single dad, this well versed in dirty talk even though you’re pretty sure he hasn’t been laid in forever?
He adds a second finger, curling them to find your gspot. As he pumps his hand, lips pressed to yours in a mad frenzy, you can hear your wetness with each motion.
It feels unreal- have fingers alone ever done a number like this on you?
Johnny twists his hand a little, knuckles dragging along your sensitive inner walls. It’s like he’s trying to carve out a space for his cock, although, you know now that this won’t be enough. He’s thick and throbbing on your hip, his length so large you think he might just blow your entire back out when he slips it into you.
Even though you’re eager to be - for lack of a better word - impaled on him, Johnny takes his time kissing you, his fingers continuing their motions. “Wanna rub your clit for me?” he asks, moving his mouth to your neck. “I want to watch you cum.”
Your toes curl at his words, and you bring your hand to your pussy, drawing circles on the sensitive bud while he continues to stroke your inner walls.
Your core throbs around him, whimpers of pleasure escaping you.
“You’re being so good for me, honey,” Johnny tells you, making your insides flutter even more from the sincere words of praise.
Cumming hasn’t always been the easiest thing in the world for you. There are many partners you’ve had who never had the wherewithal to get you there- but somehow, Johnny just knows you. Or maybe, it’s because he knows you- because you feel safe with him, that you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
It also helps that it’s your own fingers on your clit, you know exactly what you like, what pressure, what motions- the digits working you open are just an added bonus that have you seeing stars as you make your way to your peak.
“John,” you gasp, tits pushing up toward his chest when your back arches. “I’m gonna-”
“Let it out for me,” he encourages you softly. “You deserve it.”
“I deserve your cock,” you whine, shocked at your own blatant neediness.
Johnny only laughs. “After,” he assures you, “I promise.”
A few more circles of your clit has the cord in your stomach snapping, your orgasm washing over your like warm summer waves. Your entire body tingles with delight, gasps leaving you as your pussy fully throbs around his fingers, your clit pulsing with desire.
“So pretty,” he whispers, bringing his lips to yours.
From the way he smiles against your mouth, you can tell he doesn’t care that you’re moaning so much he can hardly kiss you.
It’s a closeness you’ve never felt before, and he helps you through your orgasm until you’re pulling your hand away in favour of grabbing his shoulders.
Johnny takes his fingers out of your core, and you watch under hooded eyelids as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean and releasing a groan. “Everything you do tastes better than what I bring to the table.”
You laugh. He’s such a fucking chef.
“Some might even say it’s…” you stifle a giggle, “Finger licking good.”
Johnny lets out a laugh, eyes lighting up. God, you love this soft, laughter infused sex- you’ve never experienced anything like it.
You grab the back of his neck, drawing his mouth to your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and there’s something so erotic about it. He moans loudly, rubbing his cock between your wet pussy lips.
The tip of his cock is stimulating your clit and it sends jitters through you. You can feel how soaked you are, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this ended with a wet patch on his bed from how turned on you’ve been throughout this whole experience.
Johnny seems intent with grinding against you, but you’re lacking patience today, and you reach between your bodies to grab his cock.
Johnny breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down at where you’re gripping him. He doesn’t say anything, his gaze shifting back to your own. There’s a question in his eyes, and you’re both aware that this is the final line. Once you cross this, there’s no going back.
You bring his cock to your wet hole, and with very little effort, you help guide the head of his cock inside of you.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans immediately, fists bunching at the pillow on either side of your head. “You’re so tight- are you sure you’re good with this?”
“You’re just- fuck,” you whimper as another inch sinks into you, “you’re just big!”
“Maybe you’ll have to get used to it,” he grins, pushing deeper.
You moan loudly, clawing at his shoulders. “Maybe I will,” you gasp.
He brings his mouth close to your own, until your lips are just brushing, eyes meeting when he says, “I’m looking forward to it.”
As he kisses you, he pushes fully into your warm, wet, throbbing core. His hips are flush to your own, and you swear no one’s ever been this deep inside of you.
Your legs shake on either side of his hips, body suspended in this odd purgatory-like place between extreme pleasure, and an uncomfortable feeling of being stretched more than you’ve ever been stretched before.
“Are you good?” he asks, lips moving to your cheek while you struggle to aclimatize to his cock.
“Yeah,” you nod quickly. “Just- fuck me, it will be easier.”
“If you say so, honey.”
The first thrust has your toes curling, eyes clenching shut with pleasure. A sound that’s never come from you before leaves your lips- a sound you’ve heard in porn, but always thought was an overexpression.
Your fingers dig into Johnny’s shoulders, and he holds you close, mouth finding your neck while he begins to fuck you.
Although, would this be called fucking?
The fluidity of his motions- the way you’re clinging to each other- it feels more like making love, and your skin tingles with the realization.
“Johnny?” you whisper.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me you love me again, like you did when you were drunk.”
“I love you,” he says immediately, holding you even tighter. “I love you so much that sometimes it hurts.”
Your entire body both relaxes and is set on fire by his words, your core throbbing desperately around his massive cock.
“Johnny-” you whimper.
“Tell me you love me too,” he pleads.
“I love you too,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his face close to yours so you can look up into his eyes. “I love you too.”
Johnny’s hand finds your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip. Somehow, he hits even deeper now, and you wriggle below him, more sounds of pleasure escaping you and filling the room.
“You sound so good, honey- I won’t last if you keep squeezing me and moaning-”
“Then don’t last,” you gasp. “Want you to cum.”
“Where should I cum?”
“Inside- I’m on birth control, just- fuck, Johnny, cum inside.”
He groans, pressing his mouth firmly to your own, his tongue dancing along yours as his motions get even faster.
You’re clinging to him for dear life at this point, and when he slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, you nearly begin to cry from how good it feels.
“Love the way your pussy sucks me in when we play with your clit,” he tells you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck-
“Do you think you can cum for me again? I don’t want to be the only one cumming.”
“Yeah, yeah- fuck, yeah, I can cum again,” you whimper desperately.
“Let me know when,” he instructs, adjusting his motions ever so slightly so each thrust has his cock dragging against your gspot.
You let out a squeal of delight, your thighs shaking around his hips, stomach muscles clenching almost painfully-
“Fuck, John, I’m there- shit, fuck-”
Johnny shuts you up with his lips against your own, and for a second time, your orgasm hits you.
Your core clamps down incredibly hard on his cock, and Johnny groans deeply above you, fingers twitching on your clit. He keeps his pace, and a moment later, you feel his cum filling you up, coating your walls with warmth.
The feeling of his large length throbbing in your own oversensitive hole has your entire mind going fuzzy, and you kiss him like a woman lost, like a woman so completely in love that nothing else matters.
You ride out your orgasms together, until you’re both shaking. Only then does Johnny come to a stop on top of you, kisses turning to a more gentle nature as he holds you close.
“I love you,” he tells you again.
You smile, blinking up at your best friend. “And I love you.”
Epilogue
The two of you are in the kitchen cooking brunch. Johnny is pressed to your back, watching intently, asking all sorts of questions about how you cook eggs to make them so delicious and superior to his own.
“The secret ingredient is love,” you tease.
Johnny can only laugh, holding you tighter.
He’s so lost in you, that he loses track of time, and as the two of you are sitting down to eat, Soonbok walks through the front door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you, letting her little overnight bag slip to the ground.
“Oh, hi, baby,” Johnny stands up immediately.
“Hi, daddy,” Soonie says, allowing her dad to pick her up for a hug while her eyes shift to you.
“Did Sabrina’s mom drop you off?” Johnny asks, looking out the door to wave at Soonie’s friend’s mom as she drives away.
“As always, daddy,” Soonie laughs. “I didn’t know y/n was coming over.”
“Surprise,” you grin, also standing so that when Johnny sets his daughter to the ground, she can run to give you a hug of your own.
Once Soonie is done squeezing you as tight as her little arms can muster, she looks between you and Johnny. For some reason, Johnny feels his heart beginning to race, there’s a knowing in his daughters eyes.
“What’s going on?” Soonie asks finally.
“Y/N and I just had a little sleep over,” Johnny tries to explain, and the concept isn’t a new one, you sleep over frequently… in the guest bedroom.
“So…” a wicked grin appears on Soonbok’s face, “Does this mean you’ll stop trying to get me to call her auntie now?”
“What?” Johnny lets out a surprised laugh.
“You heard me, daddy,” Soonbok’s smile widens. “Does this… does this mean we’ll be a real family now?”
Johnny lets out a shuddery breath. In the years you’ve been helping raise Soonbok, Johnny has broached the idea of her calling you Auntie Y/N, as a respect thing, and his daughter has always refused. Had she seen the connection this whole time? Has this been something Soonbok has wanted ever since she was a five year old with an inquisitive mind and an even more discerning eye?
Johnny’s gaze shifts to you, and you flash him a warm smile.
“Yeah, baby,” Johnny picks up his daughter. “We can be a real family now.”
☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! This was such a fun project for me, thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to write for Chef John, he deserved his happy ending :)
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🔮 preview. The man ordering can’t see you lying on the floor of the food truck. He has no idea what’s going on- and you feel like tempting fate a little. You bring your hand to your pussy, beginning to rub yourself through your pants, adjusting the vibrator ever so slightly as it buzzes inside you. Johnny nearly drops the tomato he’s holding, quickly tearing his gaze from yours. You’ve never seen him trying to focus this hard- and failing. What had been your torture initially, has just become his own, and you kind of love it.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a food truck), use of vibrator while helping a customer, vibrator as a makeshift gag ball, breast worship, fucking with half your clothes on, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, etc… I petnames. (hers) honey
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 230
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
bonus
You love working with Johnny. Sure, it had been rough at first, getting his food truck on its feet, but it’s been two years, and with some insanely good marketing, you’re now running one of the top trucks in the city.
It’s a joy to watch Johnny fulfill his dreams every day- his odd obsession with sandwiches of all things has only added to your connection. Watching him smile and charm guests makes your heart swell with joy, and on the rare occasion Soonie comes to do the register and take orders, it feels like you’re just one happy family.
Today, however, is a weather disaster. The forcast had mentioned light sprinkles, but cuddled next to Johnny looking out at the torrential downpour, you both feel a little bamboozled.
“You know what would make this more fun?” Johnny asks.
“Customers?” you suggest.
“Yes, but also… I got you something.” The chef flashes you a sly smirk, and you pull away from his shoulder to asses him.
“Am I going to like where this is going?” you ask.
He was single for so long- and there’d been so many sexual things he’d missed out on during that time, but the two of you are making up for it every moment you have alone. You suppose this is a moment alone, so you’re not really shocked that his mind is in the gutter.
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where'd you put those keys? we can share one seat.
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ellie w x f!reader
you and ellie fucking in all the postions listed in sports car by tate mcrae
warnings 𐙚 FILTHY SMUT/SEX, word count 2.9k, exhibition (car, alleyway, center of a room, beach), watched masturbation, penetration/oral sex (r!receiving), strap called dick, riding/doggy/missionary, overstimulation/high sex drive, making out, grinding, modern!au, established relationship, not proofread
In the alley in the back
Her body was pressed against yours–leaving you stuck between her and the concrete wall in front of you. Her hand was wrapped around your neck, the other–the tattooed one–was on your waist–tugging your hips back to collide with hers, trusting her length back inside you. Each one shoving against that spot that had you fumbling to keep yourself upright, knees growing weak.
All the sound around you–the club, the chatter–and she was focused on the ones coming from you.
“Mmm… mm Ellie.. Els…! Ellie…”
There was a slight nudge at her heart, the concern of getting caught–and the repremends that may follow. It was present, but it had the opposite. Rather than fear, you both felt adrenaline, a surge of heat. She didn’t even try to quiet you, didn’t try to slow her hips when the sounds of your wet cunt got louder.
She was quiet herself, enthralled with how you looked. Your back arched, face pushed against the wall, bottom lip dropped open, fingers digging at the wall, legs shaking–spread so wide for her. Just for her. Only for her. She almost wanted someone to find you two, to see how well she took care of you–her hips moving quicker at the thought. Her voice, rough and scratchy, brushed against your ear–whispering praises, describing how you looked.
“You take me so well,” she murmurs, kissing at your shoulder. “So well, baby.”
Her hand at your waist snakes down to your clit, stimulating it right along with her thrusts–elevating how you were feeling. Your hums before have turned into gasps, choked moans. Her steady pace and finger working at your clit had you squeezing around her length, feeling as hot as ever. Your head falls back onto her shoulder, back arched as much as possible.
“Oh fuck…oh fuck…! Ellie–!” you whine and she shushes you.
“I know, I’m here. I’m here.”
Your body shook with tremors as the climax washed over you, Ellie’s heavy breathing hitting your ear–her thrusting coming to a stop.
In the center of this room
It’s so extremely unprofessional, immature, and unrefined to fuck in the center of a room. But here you were at some dinner, in the center of a nice restaurant–and Ellie’s hand was between your legs underneath the table. Your hands gripped her wrist, your chest rising and falling faster than normal.
She had slipped her hand onto your thigh by the start of the night. Not even halfway through the dinner and it was between your thighs, middle and ring finger rubbing at your core. You were squirming around in the chair, struggling to keep your thighs spread as she worked you up. When nobody was looking, she would whisper in your ear hotly–dirty phrases that brought out subtle changes in you. The way you’d clench around nothing, gasp, grip her wrist in a bruising hold.
There were people beside the two of you, but with the table cloth and angle she had her hand–it was covered completely. Just her two fingers moved, rubbing at your sensitive bundle of nerves. Her voice reached your ear, her lips brushing as she spoke, “quiet, the others may hear.” She said it at the right time, knowing you were reaching your orgasm.
You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes almost rolling back at the euphoric feeling washing over you. Your body fell limp, head resting in the crook of her neck as the tingling sensation fills you. You walked out of that dinner with your inner thighs glistening with arousal under your dress.
We could share one seat.. with the windows rolled down
Pulled over on the side of the road, she had you on her lap–her lips rendering you dizzy. It was dark, the headlights on the car turned off. It started with a night drive, and halfway through she had to find some secluded area in the forest to park her car. Her hands were on your waist, moving your hips in circles down on her.
You were growing more and more aroused from the way she kissed you. Aggressive, passionate–pushing you to grip onto her hair, tugging her back again and again. Lips meeting one another in pure need, not letting the other breathe. She moved her hands away from your waist to unhook her pants, pulling them and her boxers down–just to pull her strap out. She did everything while kissing at your neck, pulling whimpers from you.
When she was sure you were ready, pressing her fingers into you a few times, she angled her length with your cunt and pulled you down onto her.
You gasped and slapped a hand against the fogged window. The activities inside the car were way too hot–contrasting the coolness in the air outside. Each inch was put in until it rested right against your cervix, splitting you on her length–fully taking the air out of your lungs.
She fucked you sensless. She moved you up and down, bounced you on her length. She kissed you breathlessly. Her hands were on the back of your neck, keeping you still for her so she could nip at your bottom lip. She had you practically screaming, moans so loud it had her soaking her own boxers and probably the car seat beneath her.
You shudder, hands gripping the headrest, “o-oh shit… mmm… ellie, don’t stop. Don't ever stop. Don’t fucking stop–oh!”
Her expression was one of pleasure and ego, a smirk laced in her grin. She kept you on her length, continuing her pace no matter if you’ve come already. Unbeknownst to you, the windows were rolled down–your pleas and cries of her name filling the surrounding area. It wasn’t one, not two, not three–but four rounds until she rolled them back up and held your exhausted and sore body against hers.
On the corner of my bed
Your hands were gripping the sheets beside your head, head tilted back–shifting back and forth. Ellie had your thighs in a vice grip, arms wrapped around them. She held you still, not allowing you to move an inch. Her muscles flexed each time your hips or legs jerked, eyes snapping up to you.
Her tongue was lapping at you–pushing inside you. She had you whimpering, crying her name out. All you saw was the blurry ceiling or pure black when you shut your eyes. Each lick, hum, press of her tongue was intentional.
“You love it like this don’t you,” she says against your wet core, pressing a kiss to your clit to watch you shiver. “Always go crazy for my tongue.”
You nod, too fucked out to even try to respond coherently. She’s been teasing you, keeping you on the brink of pleasure. Worked up that each stimulation felt like heaven, but she kept you at a hairs length from an orgasm. It felt amazing, and you truly wished you could stay here forever. She knew your body was like a backroad, working you up so fast. She knew exactly what setting, what words, and what actions had you weak in the knees for her. There’s no question why each session usually had three to four sessions following.
The reason why this was her own personal favorite was how she got to truly feel each reaction from you. Every clench around her tongue, how wet you got, your taste, your hips circling on her tongue–it was incredibly arousing.
Just now–when she felt you clench around her tongue–she didn’t stop. She moves it up your folds until she presses it against your clit, humming against it. Your jaw tightening, hands gripping the sheets so much they’re bunched up in your hands, eyebrows furrowed. Each second in overstimulation had you so weak, yet you begged for more.
Oh, and maybe on the beach
The bikini you had on, you should’ve known it would’ve set her off. It had a similar reaction in you as well, heat swirling in your lower abdomen at how her gaze darkened in intent. That night on the beach, under the moonlight–she had you straddling her face. The only thing that hid the two of you was a large rock.
Her body was laid on the said, legs bent–while you sat atop of her face. She left the bottoms on for a bit, teasing you over the fabric. She laughed at your pitiful whimpers, pleading for her to stop teasing.
“Don’t tease…. please–”
She only rolls her eyes, pulling your bottoms to the side and licks your cunt directly. The difference between with and without the fabric felt incredible. Her kisses, sucks, and licks on your clit now were much more defined, clear–it felt so good. You dug your fingers into the sand, hips jerking at how she was making you feel.
“Ellie–!”
“Shhh, I got you,” she whispers, continuing her ministrations against you. Your fluids were leaking onto her face–down her nose, over her lips. She’d have it as lip gloss if she could.
“Aah.. ahh please. Please keep going, don’t stop… feels so fucking good–”
As if she’d ever want to stop.
You could do it on your own while you're looking at me
She sat on a chair across from where you were on the bed. The intensity in her eyes was intoxicating, a hidden depth that seemed to see straight through you. You match her gaze, pulling your shirt up and over your head. She says nothing, eyes darting all around you. Your eyes, your breasts held in your bra, your stomach, your neck–
You grin. With a turn, you push your hips out towards her–giving her a glimpse of what was under your pencil skirt. Your cunt showing through the white lace underwear you were wearing. That was all was needed for her to start rubbing her thighs together–already hot and bothered.
Dropping the skirt to the ground, you climbed onto her lap–eyes never leaving hers as you drag her hands up your body, guiding them sensually. You couldn’t hold back the shiver that escapes you at the look in her eyes, how her pupils are blown in desire.
Next second you’re pulling away–standing in front of her to strip off the last bit of your undergarments. Scooting back on the bed, now completely bare, you maintain eye contact. The moment you spread your legs, her eyes dart there. With a hand reaching down between your thighs, you bring your finger onto your clit–circling it.
Your head falls back as you use your own fingers to work yourself up. You play with your clit, push a few into yourself–gasping at the feeling. While you’re laid out on the bed, legs spread and playing with yourself–she’s matching your pace, touching herself to the sight of you. The show you give her makes her feel like she’s doing it for the first time, like she’s a fresh teenager experiencing arousal.
Watching you feels like standing too close to an open flame, the heat of your presence drawing her in, making it impossible to look away. You’re like a drug to her—something she craves even when she knows she should pull back, something that fills her veins with a dangerous kind of need.
Her eyes track your every movement, hungry for more, the warmth spreading through her like wildfire. Each shift, each subtle gesture, stokes the fire inside her, intensifying the pull she can’t resist. She feels it deep in her chest—this heat, this craving, this connection that’s more than just desire. It’s all-consuming.
When you come undone in front of her, she’s climbing on top of you–continuing to wreck you until the alarm you set on your phone to wake up for work rings.
taglist // @kaykeryyy
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem!reader#ellie x female reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x you#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams smut#tlou ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams fic#ellie williams fluff#ellie fluff#ellie smut#ellie fanfic#ellie fic#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams x f!reader#ellie x f!reader#modern!au
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I MEAN... Nam-gyu x Female guard 🧎♀️
THAT WOULD BE CRAZYYY
(NSFW) 🤭
Nam-gyu x femguard! reader
Sorry for being gone a family member of mine died🙁
I actually enjoyed writing this a lot so I hope you like it!
Anyone that knows how to make my posts prettier please hmu💔
The games were getting boring, the high the drugs have him initially didn't hit the same and his body constantly craved for another outlet. It was infuriating, it was like his body ached to release this frustration he couldn't make out where from.
Lately though, he's felt like he's been watched by one of the guards with the square symbol on their mask, he knew it was their job and all to keep an eye on them to shoot them down when players are eliminated but damn this one guard had been staring him down hard. He'd just spare a dirty look before but now it'd been making him paranoid.
So much so it had him tossing and turning in his bed, the mattresses are too thin and pillows too flat. It was driving him mad. Sighing with new found resolution he pushed himself off his back and made his descent down the bunk. A little splash of water would do him good. He hoped at least. Or he would actually lose his shit.
Dragging his feet lazily to bang at the door for the guards to open it. He didn't bother being polite, watching other people's experiences it was easier to let them know you're serious about going from the get go. And it worked. A circle guard begrudgingly opened the door and escorted him to the bathroom.
He'd spent quite a bit of time just staring at himself in the mirror blankly as he watched the water trickle down his face to the sink bowl below. The constant battling with the morals of himself and why he deserved to be in here in the first place were clouding his mind without the mind nulling effects of Thanos' drugs.
Swearing dismissively at his own thoughts he pushed himself off the sink and walks out of the bathroom. Except this time he's greeted by a square guard rather than the circle one from before, the fact alone had the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end as he warily followed after them at the silent gesture of their head.
He finds himself being backed up into the bathroom again, the door now closing with a resounding click that had him on edge immediately as his eyes scanned his surroundings then back on you.
"What do you want huh?"
| ₊˚⊹ᰔ
One thing lead to another and now he's backed up against the furthest wall from the door, his breaths coming out heavy as he looks down at you. It doesn't seem like you have a weapon on you but he really isn't feeling like fucking around and finding out.
And then you're pulling off your mask, pushing it off and tucking your hair to one side.
You're beautiful.
It takes him a second to collect himself as: first off he didn't expect you to be a woman, and second why do you have the prettiest eyes he's ever seen? Now he's enjoying this tension, you're staring him down still and you look oddly familiar. But he doesn't give a shit right now, he's been feeling so pent up this whole time and you're presenting a perfect opportunity to let go a little.
Before you can open your mouth to speak he's smashing his lips against yours amateurly, slim hands working their way down your back until one reaches your ass and squeezes hopelessly. His sudden neediness catches you by surprise but it's not unwelcome as you also let your hands roam up to his hair and down his chest causing him to sigh deeply against your lips.
He pulls away for a split moment, lips connected by spit and he's grasping clumsily at the zip of your uniform, pressing his already growing hard on against your thigh.
"Is that why you've been watching me so closely, huh?" he says between breaths.
"You want me right?"
"This is only for my benefit... don't get it twisted." you murmur between his rushed kisses, your hands finding themselves on the same sink he leaned on before.
"Yeah you keep believin' that, it's gonna change soon..."
He can't believe how fast his heart is beating just from seeing you shirtless in front of him. Had it really been that long?Who cares. There's a woman in front of him panting in his ear and he wasn't about to pass up this beautiful blessing.
Surprisingly he's more considerate of the maintenance of your uniform as he pulls the tracksuit down to your hips and let's it pool at your ankles. He can't help but bite deep marks into your collar when you cautiously push your hair out of the way causing you to gasp slightly.
He's pushing his hips hard against yours, each rock of his body sending shivers down both your spines as he grasps you harder. One hand is fondling your tits, tracing the outline of your bra with such focus it almost irked you.
"Think we're both worked up enough, just lemme fuck you, please..."
His words are whispered in short breaths against the base of your neck as he gives kitten licks to your collarbone. His half lidded eyes shoot up to yours excitedly when he feels the small hum of your approval against his lips. You'd honestly been waiting forever, quickly growing tired of squeezing your thighs together and resisting the urge to meet his dry thrusts against you.
He's kissing you even more passionately than before, reciprocating had made you accidentally nick his lip with your teeth. Your eyes widen when you taste the metallic crimson on your tongue and you're pulling away to apologize.
He's huffing softly like he's disappointed you bothered stopping and licks the blood from his busted lip, then yours before moving in to kiss you again.
Apparently unafraid of getting nicked again.
Slender fingers pull your panties down to pool at your ankles alongside your uniform, rushing to pull his own tracksuit off. You help him shrug off his jacket and pull his pants down for him earning a strained whine from him when your barely brush his crotch.
Pecking your lips repeatedly as he pulls down his boxers and crowds your space, forcing you to lean against the sink more. But he keeps moving forwards, lifting up your hips slightly so you're slightly sat on the ceramic top so you kick your tracksuit off completely, then he starts to line himself up against you.
He gasps sharply when the tip pushes against your clit, his body hunching over slightly as his head falls. Repeating the action a few more times, smearing his pre cum all over your pussy, making more of a mess than you initially planned to clean up. But it's like his mind is somewhere else completely, occasional whimpers leaving his throat, pink lips he bit down on harshly as he rubbed his cock against your folds.
"You feel so n-nice... not even inside you yet. Who woulda thought h-huh?"
And he's finally nudging himself inside, stretching you out more than what you were prepared for making you bite your lip as you place a firm hand over your mouth to muffle the moan about to leave your lips. He grins stupidly at the sight as he finally bottoms out. He's holding your hips in a death binding grip and you wish he would move already. What you didn't know is that he's internally willing himself not to cum on the spot. He definitely needed this.
Without any warning he's slamming his hips into yours, the hand over your mouth that had relaxed tightening again to quiet your sounds. You honestly thought he was stupid for a moment, not even caring for the sounds that fell from his own lips as his eyes locked with yours, their dusted hazily from the pleasure of your walls wetly wrapped around him. The sounds coming from your wetness was embarassing enough, reaching your ears and making them burn.
"F-uck...so good could finish right now...don't think I can pull o-out."
What? Can't pull out? Your eyes widen at the statement and one of your hands leave the edge of the sink to roughly tug at his hair to snap him out of it but you're met with a loud moan in response. The strong verbal feedback from the action that was meant to be harsh startled you slightly, but the sound he made went straight to your core, making you squeeze around him tighter. You're slowly forgetting what you had wanted to say as your body's response and your hand in his hair triggers his urge to finally cum.
Pressing his pelvis harder against you with each snap of his hips so your clit gets stimulated. You let go of your grip on the sink completely now, one hand dug tightly in his hair and the other clawing gently at the nape of his neck. You're slightly surprised his grip on your hips is enough to support you and honestly if he was more aware he'd be surprised too.
But he's not, he's pushing himself into you deeper and deeper and you swear his trying to shoot it right into your womb. Silent whines rack your body as he tucks his head into your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.
Then he's cumming, deep. Your eyes shoot open at the unfamiliar warm feeling filling you up. His hips are still stuttering to help you get there and you finally come undone with a small cry. The orgasm hitting harder than what you expected causing you to wrap your legs around his hips in a vice grip. His thrusts have slowed significantly, making sure he'd given you all of him before he'd even dream of stopping.
When he finally pulls out you're instantly met with the emptiness in your stomach, everything between your legs feels sticky and your legs trembled. He's panting softly against your neck and holding you close to him but now he's rubbing your back possessively as he whispers small thanks against your skin.
He's picking you up off the sink and placing you back on your feet carefully, you thank him quietly for doing so. But then he's laying his jacket openly on the floor and taking you by the waist to slowly lower you onto it?
"'m not done yet...just one more I promise. It'll feel great for both of us."
Small kisses along the curve of your breasts to your cheek urge you to agree playfully and your hair splays out on the floor. This probably wouldn't be the last one.
| ₊˚⊹ᰔ
You hadn't meant it to become routine, really, you didn't. But somehow he was able to figure out who you were each time you were on duty. He'd put in the effort of learning the guards rotation so he knew when you'd be around to escort him back from the bathroom. You always insist that this can't be a daily think but he only smiles as he pulls off your mask for you and backs you into a nearby stall.
#needthat
#squid game#squid game x reader#nam gyu#nam-gyu x reader#player 124#nam gyu x reader#player 124 x reader#nam gyu smut#nam gyu squid game#fem!reader#squid game smut
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strawberry float
soobin x fem!reader
synopsis: who cares if anyone hears you two? you haven't had space all week until now
warnings: 🔞!!! slight voyeurism, thigh fucking, slight fingering, no protection, creampie, mentions of breeding, soobin calls reader bunny once, prob forgot some sorry
wc: 1.28k
an: feedback appreciated! this is apart of my float event! check out the other members fics [float m.list]
[m.list]
for months you and all your friends have been talking about renting a beach house to celebrate classes ending. Every day closer to finals was closer to you being able to relax on the beach with no other worries besides what you would have for dinner. the first few nights had been fine, everyone in their respective rooms only the walls were thin enough for you to hear people doom scrolling before bed, the soft hum of everyone talking, and the alarms that had been left on without anyone realizing until we were all waking up at six am.
the whole week you have been happy to spend time with your friends and your boyfriend's friends only you had little time alone. every night all of you would try to squish on the one couch in your rental, the rest who didn’t make the cut spilling onto the floor spread out as you all played Mario kart.
you’re sitting on the couch between your boyfriend's legs, his arms wrapped around you, chin on your shoulder. you’re half asleep after spending all day outside, leaning into soobin trying to fight your sleep. not even paying attention to the chatter you don’t hear that this is the last game, your eyes shut when you feel the brush of soobins lips against your cheek you give a sleepy hum. “come on let's go to bed,” he whispers but you shake your head, “no the games not over,’
he gives a soft chuckle, “It's okay everyone is tired too we are all going to bed,”
Everyone is standing and getting their things together to head back to their rooms, calling one of the two bathrooms to shower before bed, and heading to the kitchen to stay up longer. but soobin guides you to the room you’re staying in together, shutting the door behind you as you collapse on the bed. “I don’t even want to change,” you groan rolling over to your back. soobins standing by your bags pulling off his hoodie his shirt under riding up to reveal the smooth planes of his stomach, hair a mess up top his head like he's just run his fingers through the strands. you watch him get ready for bed, unbuttoning his jeans, and tugging down the zipper without pulling them down his legs. “Are you going to watch me all night or do something?” his brow hiked as he gazed at you.
you roll over again pressing your face into the duvet without answering. if you two were anywhere else you would have immediately acted on his teasing, gotten down on your knees before him or stripped down for him. and you knew yourself, once you started you wouldnt stop, the ache between your legs persistent enough to drive you insane. but soobins not having you brush him off tonight, not when your skirt is flipped up showing off your black panties, all your exposed leg, and the outline of your cunt enough to make him not care about everyone else in the house.
you feel his hand slide up your thighs and you turn your head enough to see him leaning over you. “we could be quiet,” he suggests, one finger pulling on the edge of your panties letting the fabric snap back.
“soobin,” you warn but it's lost to him when he's already this far into the idea.
“I'll be quiet, no one will know,” he slides his fingers over your covered folds, smirking, sweet dimple now sinful, “You can be quiet, can’t you? you’re already getting wet,”
you roll your hips back into his hand, “I don’t know…” you don’t trust yourself enough to know the answer to his question. the two of you lived alone and neither of you cared if your neighbors heard you.
“I won't even put it in,” but he knew even that wouldn't keep you from whimpering. he swirled his fingers over your clit giving you enough pressure to arch your back. “please?”
“Okay,” you breathed and soobin couldn't push his pants down fast enough. He was fumbling with your panties sliding them down your legs and didn’t even turn you around.
he pressed his fingers back to your clit sliding them down to your entrance to gather your wetness, he rubbed back and forth trying to get his fingers extra wet. Already you were struggling to stay quiet, teeth digging into your lip with every pass over your swollen nub.
soobin rubbed his fingers along your inner thighs, leaving you a mess before pressing you further into the mattress. he slipped his cock between your thighs, his tip knocking your clit with every movement, veiny shaft pressed against your folds, “ oh fuck,” he whispered at the end of a soft moan, “even your legs squeeze me so well,” he pressed his chest to your back, face right at the nape of your neck.
soobin gave slow thrusts to test the waters, finding a rhythm that both of you could handle without being too vocal. but with every drag of his hips, he was finding it harder and harder to keep his steady pace. He wanted to pound against you without worrying about the sound of his skin against yours, he wanted to hear just how wet you got for him, to let you know just how good you made him feel. but his pants were pressed right into your hair, hands on either side of you to keep his weight off of you. he could feel you getting so slick that he could have slipped right into you, pressed into your cervix, and breed you into the mattress like he wanted to but he couldn't, not here. it was taking everything in him to control himself before he pressed his hips closer to yours, the strangled moan you let out breaking his resolve.
soobin pushed himself up giving one long stroke almost falling out from between your thighs but instead he notched his tip in your entrance, your breathy mewl so sweet to his ears as he pushed into your gummy walls, pussy sucking him up just like it did. his groan rumbled his chest, face twisted in restraint to try to keep himself in check. only it wasn't working at all because you were cumming around him from the feel of him pressing into your gspot.
you buried your face into the duvet, fist balled in the fabric but it didn’t keep soobin from hearing your moans. everything felt too good and it didn’t take him long to follow your climax. your name lost on his lips as he came, slowing thrusts making lewd slapping noises from how sticky your thighs had become from the mix of your slick and his precum. he didn’t want to stop, every drag of his hips showing peeks of his cream covered cock. he didn’t even notice his soft words of affirmation, the breathy words leaving his mouth without his knowledge. “you did so good bunny,” hot air on the back of your neck.
the two of you tried to catch your breath and when soobin pulled out you let out a soft gasp at the emptiness. “I don’t think you were quiet,” you say looking over your shoulder, soobin running his hand through his hair.
It's only then that you realize you hear some of the other boys yelling across the house, “could you be any louder?” “some of us are trying to sleep!” your hands slap over your eyes feeling your embarrassment wash over you.
“oh my god,” you bury your face back into the duvet and you feel soobin kiss the top of your head.
“ignore them, let’s go clean up in the shower,”
#soobin x reader#soobin smut#txt smut#txt soobin#choi soobin#soobin#kpop smut#Yeonjun#huening kai#taehyun#beomgyu
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