#i've now forgotten her name
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seven-saffodils · 2 years ago
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distance-does-not-matter · 6 months ago
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writing really is "hey lemme go look at the wikipedia page for flowers. like all of them ever"
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red-moon-at-night · 11 months ago
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"Capri where have you been????"
LIVING MY DREAM LIFE WITH MY DREAM WIFE THANK YOU VERY MUCH
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finally living my lesbian farmer life to the fullest and I couldn't be happier tbh
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essektheylyss · 1 year ago
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I AM attempting to read at least four books this weekend and that IS ridiculous but alas, here we are.
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angeltism · 9 months ago
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god i fucking hate spa.rkle sm . most shit i'm seeing says she's being racist against roman.ians , but . . . considering roman.ians are . white europeans ? and i haven't heard of much oppression towards roman.ians . I kinda doubt it ?? but you know what people whose oppression i've heard plenty of in roman.ia and who sound similar enough they constantly get confused with each other ? roma . who were enslaved for fucking centuries and to this day still face horrendous oppression in roman.ia . is she . is she fucking racist towards the h.sr version of part of my heritage . hoyo can i kick her can i please kick and punch her please please please pleaaaase pl
#➳ the fool speaks#i mean even if she just hates eastern europeans For Some Reason (roman.ians) that's still her being a racist bitch abt my heritage#<- roman.ian AND rom.ani#i deserve to kick her into the sun i think#also would this mean aven.turine is . rom.ani ? he's pale and blond . which wouldn't be toooo accurate i think ?#but ykw even if he is meant to be rom.ani n nawt roman.ian . and I'm right with all this . I don't expect hoyo to actually make someone fro#somewhere that is supposed to be based off of a culture and people that originates in northwestern india#have an ounce of color in their skin#he might also just be roman.ian but ?? then the slavery comments that I've seen around don't rlly make much sense .#but um !! idk this is going off of screenshots I've seen and what people r saying about aven.turine and her n all that so#n i haven't played in a while so idfk what's going on in the plot . this is just me being pissy about the possibility of a culture that's#still getting fucking oppressed horrendously and forgotten about and Not Even Having Their Oppression Taught To Others getting used . and#now a fucking . anime girl that I've already seen people saying they'll empty their wallets for n calling her their ''waifu 🥺''#is being a racist piece of shit abt it . like . i find it a bit distasteful. no ? like racism can and should be shown in media#but . . . don't . don't try to sell the racist character ? don't make them look cool ? like ? am i overreacting idfk i just hate spa.rkle#SHE EVEN HAS A STUPID NAME#WTF ''ah yes this racist ableist piece of shit let's name her fucking SPARKLE'' ????????? fucking hell i dont like her i hate her#if she's playable or becomes playable I deserve to punch everyone who spends on whatever her banner is in the jaw . sorry#tw slavery ment#tw racism ment#ask to tag
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keeps-ache · 2 years ago
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i have found new, untapped goofy-OC-doodle potential as of last night !!
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chuluoyi · 3 months ago
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𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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- zayne x reader
he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her.
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, hurt/comfort, unrequited love, drunken sex, mentions of injury, blood, hunter!reader (not l&ds mc -> l&ds mc is zayne's late ex-girlfriend here), spoilers! from zayne’s bond story nostalgic sweetness
note: wc. 8k ! i've been having these bits and pieces scenarios for zayne in mind and then i thought what if i combined it all into one angst joyride? :)) tagging per request: @kissxcore @rjreins @i2s2m @tom-pls-fuck-me @yueyoonie @sanriosatoru
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07.15 p.m
Zayne would be getting off work soon. He had just finished an emergency surgery, and it had been exhausting. Now it was quite late.
“Dr. Zayne! Great job today!” Greyson exclaimed, suddenly strolling into his consultation room with a grin. “Want to grab dinner with us?”
Honestly, he was starving too. “Where?”
“Oh, you know, that new place that just opened nearby! They have the tastiest tiramisu, or so I’ve heard. C’mon, we’re inviting the nurses too!”
He knew he needed to head home soon, but fatigue and hunger blurred his thoughts at the mention of dessert.
“Alright.”
. . .
08.25 p.m
Getting together with the hospital staff was always nice. They were rowdy, but it was definitely a great way to unwind after a hard day.
The tiramisu was as great as Greyson said. Speaking of his assistant, he and Yvonne were having a blast. Other doctors were getting drunk. Zayne could only shake his head, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had been here quite a while.
It was only when he turned on his phone and saw the time that he realized, with sinking heart that—
He was supposed to meet you at six.
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If you were asked how you felt about your life now, you’d be hard-pressed to say you were completely content.
You were a stellar fighter in the Hunter Association, more than content with your job, and you had a good husband. To some, you had what they would call the perfect life.
The wife of the Dr. Zayne. True, it was a flattering title, yet unbeknownst to everyone, also a humbling one.
And the notion struck you once again when your husband of almost two years stood you up on your dinner date without so much as a notice.
“Miss... we’re about to close now...” The waitress approached your table for at least the third time, and you nodded sheepishly, finally finishing your meal.
You paid for it and left the restaurant. The chilly night air hit your skin, giving you goosebumps as you walked home. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Granted, Zayne had a packed schedule, and you figured he might've had an urgent matter to attend to that he forgot to let you know.
Still... it hurts. Knowing you were not a priority in your husband’s eyes wasn’t a fun feeling.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket the moment you arrived at your shared home. Your husband’s name flashed on your screen. The time now was 08.40 p.m.
“Hello, Zayne?”
“Y/N?” Your husband’s voice sounded frantic. “Are you still at the restaurant? I’m going—”
“Ah, no need to. I’m going home.”
“I’ll pick you up then. Stay there—”
“I’ve already arrived.”
An awkward silence settled between you, and you could clearly hear the noise on the other end. Greyson’s laughter was unmistakable.
You forced a laugh, still trying to sound cheerful for him even when realizing that he had completely forgotten about you. “It’s totally fine, Zayne! Are you heading back?”
“Yeah...”
“Take care then. See you at home.”
You ended the call with a sigh, trying to shake off the sting in your heart. As you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, you passed by a large portrait on the wall, and a bittersweet sensation washed over you.
Your wedding photo. Both of you were smiling on what was the most wonderful day of your life. Zayne’s smile was reserved, but yours was radiant.
It is the most wonderful thing that has happened to you... but is it the same for him?
At that time, despite everything, you were convinced a lifetime of happiness awaited you, yet now... it got harder to fool yourself into believing it.
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Your marriage has always been lukewarm.
Zayne wasn’t an overly excited person, and you were his opposite—but try as you might, some things between you just didn’t work out. As a result, both of you tended to keep certain things to yourselves.
Most days, this didn't bother him. He valued his privacy, so the way things were suited him just fine. However, several days later, when Greyson approached him with a worried expression and a news, even Zayne had to draw the line.
“Dr. Zayne? Uh, how do I say this? I think I saw your wife being wheeled in earlier with the injured from the hunt zones raid…”
. . .
“Your husband is a doctor here. Why aren’t you calling him?”
Xavier, your fellow Deepspace Hunter who was partnered with you in this mission, questioned you with a hint of annoyance as he observed your pathetic state on the stretcher and crossed his arms. “Why do you have to bleed out in ER when you can get him?”
You winced, pressing the bloodied cloth against your stinging abdomen as you felt yourself growing faint. “He’s... a surgeon,” you panted. “He’s busy.”
Above all, you didn’t want Zayne to see you like this. You could already imagine his angry face, and that mental image alone made you recoil.
“What sort of husband is busy when his wife is injured?” Xavier raised an eyebrow. “Did you at least notify him?”
You shut your eyes, feeling a migraine coming.
“I will then.”
“No.”
“Y/N, you—”
“Shut up, Xavier—”
The curtain was suddenly pulled back, and you braced yourself for whoever had come to check on you next. To your surprise, the cloth in your hand was snatched away, and you felt your uniform being torn open with urgency.
When you opened your eyes, you barely made out your husband’s figure through your hazy vision. “…Zayne?”
His expression was stern, unforgiving even, as he started to disinfect your wound. Despite the tension, you couldn't deny the relief that washed over you. You knew you were in good hands, even if you had to face his fury later on.
Your consciousness slipped away not long after that.
. . .
The next time you woke up, you found yourself in a private room, with a nagging itch where you had been injured.
You groaned, your limbs stiff and heavy, and the room slowly came into focus—along with your husband's face.
"Zayne?" Your voice came out barely above a whisper. He stood pristine in his white coat and glasses, assessing you with a scrutinizing gaze.
"Your wound is, thankfully, shallow," he said flatly, his tone lacking any real concern. "You'll be discharged tonight. I'll take you home as soon as my shift is over."
"Ah..." You blinked several times to clear your head. "Good then. Sorry for showing up out of nowhere. Xavier and I were on a rescue mission, and I accidentally—"
He walked away before you could finish, the abruptness snapping you fully awake. He was furious, that much was clear.
"Ha ha..." You forced a laugh, fiddling with your fingers, trying to ease the awkward tension between you. "It doesn't hurt much, actually. You're right—I'm fine..."
Zayne shot you a sharp glance. "You passed out due to blood loss."
"This isn't the first time it has happened and nor will it be—"
"And it didn't even occur to you to inform me at all. I found out that my own wife was wounded because Greyson passed by the ER and saw you."
His words left you silent, caught red-handed, but your annoyance was reaching its limit. You had imagined how nice it would be if he panicked about you, showering you with care when he found out. But instead, Zayne chose to rebuke you the moment you woke up.
“I’m not a child,” you reasoned, keeping yourself calm. “I’m a hunter. This is nothing new, and you should understand that.”
“The least you could’ve done is to tell me—“
“Do you know why I didn’t? It’s because I know how you’ll react!”
“—and it would do you better to prioritize your safety and not rush headfirst into danger.”
“Believe me, I do but—!”
Suddenly, Zayne spun around to face you, his eyes blazing with fury as he raised his voice. “I’ve told you so many times already, you have to stay back, or you’ll end up—!”
He stopped abruptly, leaving his sentence hanging in the air, but right at that moment, you knew all too well who he meant, and what the implication was.
His, without a doubt, greatest love. His childhood friend, a hunter like yourself, someone he had vowed to save but succumbed to her illness before he could do so, died on arrival.
The irony was sharp. You had become everything she once was. You knew her well, too. When she passed, the entire Hunter Association mourned her loss. And more than that, on the night she died, you had been with him.
Looking back, you should have seen it coming. Still, it hit you like a splash of cold water. Your husband was still preoccupied with thoughts of his ex-girlfriend, and worse yet, he saw pieces of her in you.
And you suspected he had for a while—perhaps even, from the very beginning.
For a second there, not for the first time, you felt your heart shatter.
“I don’t have Protocore syndrome,” you stated, steeling yourself against the heartbreak. “My heart won't suddenly fail because I get injured. I’m not that weak.”
You turned away as Zayne refused to respond, missing his look of disdain as he stormed out of the room.
That was when your first tear fell.
Right from the start, you knew you had to brace yourself for this. You knew that eventually, this tragedy would overshadow your marriage. Because while Zayne might be your husband by law, deep down, his heart still belonged to someone else.
To her.
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You two are too much alike.
It wasn’t the first time he had noticed it. And it wouldn’t be the last.
On bad mornings, when his eyes were bleary and he hadn't had a good sleep, he would see her instead of you in your shared bed. And with that mistaken sight came a fleeting sense of relief... until his vision cleared and he remembered she was truly gone and it was you.
Zayne knew how wrong this was on so many levels. It was terribly unfair to you.
Still, his concern for you was genuine. Seeing you lying still on the stretcher brought back that very same nightmare, and really, he truly never wanted you to be hurt.
After his outburst and your clipped response, the two of you barely exchanged any words for the rest of the week. To make matters worse, he was sent on a business trip the following week, and all in all, you went two weeks hardly speaking to each other.
And before he knew it, her death anniversary was only a couple of days away.
. . .
"How much is this?"
"Ah, the bow is 50,000 Gold, sir!"
Inside the airport's souvenir shop, Zayne examined the intricate light blue and white bow clip. Made of tweed and adorned with small pearls, it looked nice.
He thought it'd suit you well.
"I'll get this then."
"Right away!"
As the clerk went to wrap the trinket, Zayne reflected on these past two weeks. A nagging feeling twisted in his gut as he thought about how curt he had been with you in text messages and how often you had left him on read.
Husband and wife shouldn't be this way. He wanted the unbearable air between you to end. Determined to resolve things, he planned to talk to you when he returned. He was on his way to the airport taxi when—
"Zayne!" He stopped in his tracks, recognizing the familiar voice, and turned around.
There you were, waiting by his car with a smile.
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It was never in you to stay angry for long. It was a blessing and a curse, really, because while you no longer wished to give your husband silent treatment, a part of you still felt conflicted.
"How was your trip?" you asked as you started the engine, pushing the events of the past two weeks to the back of your mind.
Zayne didn't immediately answer, and you felt his gaze on you as you drove the car. "It was okay."
You hummed in acknowledgement, and he followed up with, "How is your wound? Do you dress it daily?"
"Mm-hm. It's getting better."
"I'll have a look at it later."
"Sure."
Silence. Usually you would ramble to distract him, but now, even you weren’t sure if you should.
Then, he said, "You really didn’t have to pick me up. I could have made my way home on my own."
To that, you pasted on a smile. “You always pick me up whenever I have to go on business trips. It’s only fair I do the same for you, husband.”
Ah. Was it the wrong move? The word had slipped out so easily that you didn’t realize it until after you said it.
But to your surprise, Zayne let out a chuckle and played along. "Well, thank you then, wife. It certainly felt quite off without a certain someone the past week."
So, he actually likes having you around...? The thought made you almost giddy. Despite his usual taciturn and sarcastic demeanor, you knew he was genuine in his own way.
"Bet you missed me," you teased, grinning.
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you sure it's not the other way around?"
"Nope. But I did miss getting new snowmen."
"...why do you like them so much? I've made plenty for you already."
"No particular reason. Snowman just kinda reminds me of you somehow."
The tension between you had melted away, and you felt a sense of relief. Beside you, even Zayne couldn’t hide his smile. For the rest of the drive home, you chatted like you used to.
When you arrived back at your shared home, he suddenly stopped and presented you with a little box. "I got you something."
"Huh?" you paused, bewildered, as he took your hand and placed the box in it.
"Open it."
With curiosity, you lifted the lid, and were surprised at the sight of a pretty bow clip inside. "Whoa, how cute..."
Zayne eyed you expectantly. "Do you like it?"
Your eyes lit up with delight, and a smile spread across your lips.
"Yes!" you beamed at him with zero hesitation, and in that moment, something struck a chord within him. Zayne had always thought you were easy on the eyes—
—but when you smiled like that, you were truly charming.
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"It's healing nicely."
You felt somewhat self-conscious as your husband examined your bare abdomen, where your injury was, as you lied on your bed. His hands, cool and practiced, tenderly removed your stitches.
It wasn't as if Zayne had never touched you. You two had been married for almost two years, and of course you had been intimate several times, but it wasn't as if you were a passionate couple to begin with—so you often found yourself flustered.
"Mm." Despite yourself, you squirmed. Noticing this, he looked up at you, his unfazed eyes meeting yours with a frown.
"Does it still hurt?"
"No, not really... It just feels as if you're tickling me."
He was positively unamused. "I'm not trying to tickle you."
"I know!"
Zayne wrapped your midsection securely with the bandage. When he was done, he let out a sigh and you felt like you had to show him your gratitude somehow.
“Thank you, Zayne…” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. But in the next second, your heart skipped a beat as his hand rested gently on your head.
"You can thank me by being more careful next time." Your husband looked at you with the smallest of smile. "Your safety comes first, always remember that."
Without either of you realizing it, you both had tried to bury that argument from two weeks ago, yet it was still gnawing at you all the same. The thought that he too was bothered with it made you warm.
"Noted," you cheekily grinned. "If I'm not safe and sound, a certain iceman will get angry at me."
Zayne shot you an unimpressed look. “If you come to me injured again, I’ll start charging you fees.”
You let out a dramatic gasp. "How stingy! I'm your wife, not just some stranger!"
"A very uncooperative wife, you are."
You huffed, and he chuckled. You really thought all was well between you two now, until Zayne suddenly stood up and grabbed the car keys. “Well then, rest. I have to go.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to stop by the florist—”
And it hit you. In two days. The day everything ended three years ago.
Zayne seemed to realize it too, but you quickly masked your falling smile with a faux one. "O-oh, right..."
No matter how, it's still going to be an important day to him. You had nothing against it, really. Your husband's late girlfriend had once been your colleague too, and you mourned her just like everyone else did.
Still, even with that understanding, in your heart of hearts, it remains just as bitter.
You didn't want to, but you needed to find closure. You hoped that by doing this, it would finally put an end to all your insecurities.
"Let's go together, Zayne. I want to pay her a visit too."
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Two days later, you and Zayne, a bouquet of flowers in hand, stood before the grave bearing many colorful flowers and postcards.
You supposed you knew already, but seeing it firsthand, you realized just how deeply she was loved still. The outpouring of respect from the Hunter Association was evident in the tribute left behind.
"It's been a while," Zayne, dressed in his most formal black suit, said solemnly, his gaze fixed on the name etched into the pristine stone.
You watched as he knelt to place his flowers and then brought his hands together in prayer. You followed his lead, placing your own bouquet beside his.
What should you even say to her? Your mind raced with countless thoughts, but none felt right to voice before the woman who had so deeply captured your husband's heart.
In the end, when you sensed that Zayne had finished with his prayer, you decided to remain silent and rose with him.
. . .
“Does it get easier?” you asked out of curiosity afterwards. “Three years has passed already.”
Although Zayne wasn’t one for drinking, even the need won today. He didn’t meet your eyes as he sipped his wine, humming thoughtfully. “Somewhat. As they say, time heals.”
You two stopped by a fine restaurant after visiting the grave. The cemetery had been a two-hour drive from Linkon City, and now it was already evening.
“She loved jasmines,” you remarked, recalling the pot of them you once saw on her desk and the flowers overflowing at the grave earlier.
“She did.” The alcohol seemed to loosen his tongue as he continued, “She loved old popsicles and macarons too.”
“And you like them as well.”
“To be honest, I started liking them back when we were kids…” Zayne had this pained, faraway look in his eyes as he had another sip. “She cried over her melted popsicle and it got me to wonder if it was really that tasty...”
The idea that you had to compete with a dead woman for your husband’s affection left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like you had failed thoroughly as a woman.
Despite hating yourself for asking, you needed to know. “Do I help you… in any way at all?”
Zayne was clearly taken aback by the question. His sharp, gray eyes locked onto you, mind whirred as he tried to grasp your meaning.
“Y/N, you...”
It was foolish, you knew. But you waited with bated breath for his response, even when one wrong word could shatter your heart beyond repair. You were ready for any sort of unfavorable answer, but then—
“I... am glad it is you.”
His words made you look up, and you found yourself caught in his gaze. Zayne’s ashen eyes were steady, piercing into you.
“You were there on the hardest days. And ever since, you’ve always stayed by my side.” He held your gaze firmly, voice was thick with emotion you couldn’t quite name. “I’m grateful for that.”
And then, with a sincerity that pierced through every uncertainty, he added, “What I want to say is... I’m glad I married you, Y/N.”
You have loved him for so long. Since the days when you know he isn’t yours to love, until now.
Your heart swelled with so much warmth that tears brimmed in your eyes. His acknowledgment of your presence filled you with a profound sense of belonging you never knew you needed before.
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Was it the alcohol?
You suspected it might be, because in nearly two years of marriage, Zayne had never lost his control like this. As soon as the bedroom door was shut, he pushed you against the wall and devoured your lips hungrily.
“Mmph!” His hands gripped your arms while his lips and tongue pried yours open. The kiss was searing, almost forceful, with the faint bitterness of wine still lingering.
“Zay…ne…” you gasped between his kisses—teary, breathless, your voice trembling.
But your breathy grunts only seemed to spur him on. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, fixed on you as his hands slipped beneath your blouse, deftly unclasping your bra with a flick.
He is hot. Your husband was everything a woman desired in a man. Cool, handsome, blessed with hands that could do wonders—
In no time, he had you naked and wet before him, and with alarming speed, he too discarded his own suit and pants, throwing them away in flurry. And you could hardly believe what you were seeing next.
He spitted on his hand, ran it along his member—stroking himself with a practiced ease, never breaking eye contact with you. The next thing you knew, he yanked you into another burning kiss and made you topple on top of him—
“Ah!” his hands guided your hips with precision, positioning you and entering you. The instant he did, you whimpered at the sudden, sharp sting of pain.
“Does it hurt?” he asked almost in a growl when you clung to his shoulder with uneven breaths.
It was too sudden, and you hoped the discomfort would pass, so you timidly shook your head.
“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop.” Zayne tangled his fingers in your hair, turning your face to his. “Understand?”
There was always a distinct, almost commanding aura about him whenever the two of you were in your marital bed. Perhaps the way his voice sound lower, but it just hit different.
And you are a willing prey... whenever he becomes that beast.
He inched inside you slowly, making you moan with each instance. He was thick, warm, and taking him in was a challenge in itself. And when he finally sheathed himself fully, your nails had made its first scratch on his skin.
You felt full, and the way your womanhood stretched and clenched around him with each breathe you took made you dizzy. Panting, you finally met his gaze. Zayne’s silver eyes were still clouded with desire as he placed his hands firmly on your hips. Unable to resist, you reached out to caress his face.
"Hmm..." he subconsciously leaned into your touch, pressing his eyes shut together. "You smell nice," he huskily muttered.
Right this moment, all negative thoughts eluded you. It felt gratifying that your husband sought your touch like this as you towered over him.
And yet, despite that...
“Do you... finally see me now?” you asked, trailing your other hand down his toned chest and starting to grind against him. Zayne drew in a sharp breath and groaned, his fingers gripping your bum tighter.
Depending on his response, you would either find peace or face another heartbreak. You had placed your happiness on this pedestal more times than you could count, and it was a cross you had to bear.
But you never received your answer.
Your husband merely gazed up at you with a dangerous gleam. And oh, you could've sworn, this sight of Zayne eyeing you as if he were about to ruin you right then and there, would live-free in your mind for many days to come.
He then buried his face in your bosom, sucking on you with such fervor that your hands instinctively reached for his head to massage his scalp. The room was soon filled with your erotic groans and the squelching sounds from where your flesh were joined together— as he thrusted inside you over and over.
Right in this moment, you felt truly desired and wanted.
You are so happy. Incomparably so.
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At the crack of dawn, Zayne woke with a start.
The first thing he noticed was how spent he felt, his limbs stiff and a throbbing headache pulsing at the back of his head.
Then he turned to his side, and the sight that met him twisted his gut in such a way that snapped him fully awake—
You were beside him, barely dressed and still deeply asleep. Your hair was a mess, and love bites were scattered across your skin, some on your chest looking almost like bruises.
It dawned on him that he, too, wasn’t decent. A sudden coldness gripped him, though it wasn’t just the morning air.
Him and you... last night...
Yesterday marked the third year. He meant everything he said to you, but the fact that he did this, with you, on the day of her death...
There was... nothing wrong with what he had done. You were his wife, no one could condone him for what he instigated. Yet, it still made him shiver.
And to make it worse, his thoughts from last night echoed back with vengeance, and—
He suddenly feels so immensely guilty.
. . .
It was the best sleep you’d had all week.
When you woke, sunlight had seeped through the window, and you discovered yourself already in pajamas, tucked snugly under a blanket. Still groggy with a dull ache in your lower belly, you relished the lingering afterglow, sighing in pure contentment, until you noticed Zayne wasn’t beside you.
Where did he go? You wondered amidst your haze. Sluggish, you stumbled out of the bed, flinching when your foot met the cold floor.
You eventually found him downstairs, sipping coffee at the dining table still with messy hair. "Zayne?"
He glanced up at you and nodded. There was something different about him, a subtle shift you couldn’t quite place. As you took a seat across from him, you hesitated, unsure of what to say.
Before you could find the right words though, he spoke first.
"I'm... sorry," he said, his tone laced with regret, causing a sharp pang of unease inside you.
"What?" you stared at him, feeling small and unsettled. "What are you sorry for?" you questioned as you gripped the hem of your shirt.
And then came the killing blow—
"Last night," Zayne muttered, avoiding your gaze. "I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. It was a mistake."
Mistake. The word echoed in your mind, but it was still hard to grasp its full weight.
"How was that—" you faltered, trembling, as the realization hit you like a truck and you gasped in disbelief. "Oh..."
Her. Again, and again, and again! Even when he was married to you, even when you were the one next to him each and everyday— even so!
Your husband considers that a night spent with you��his wife—a mistake!
The last of your patience snapped, as you broke down in sobs before him. "You're the worst!" you screamed at him amidst your mournful tears.
Zayne seemed taken aback at your outburst, his eyes wide. "Y/N, wait, you don't—"
"Screw you!" But you were beyond explanations at this point. You fled back to your bedroom. Zayne followed you suit, but you slammed the door in his face and locked it. As you collapsed onto the floor, the realization hit you with full force.
No matter what you did, you would always come second—or not at all.
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The fracture in your marriage was undeniable.
Things had changed. Your home felt colder, and the tension was so stifling that you sometimes spent the night at the Hunter Association’s dorm just to escape it.
Zayne initially tried to reach out, but you were unwilling to listen, and eventually, he gave up. Before long, nearly a month had passed with this strain in the air.
You threw yourself into more rescue operations, using work as a distraction from the turmoil that lingered in your mind. Despite your best efforts to distract yourself, the unresolved thoughts and feelings clung to you.
"Xavier, am I lacking as a woman?"
Your frequent partner these days cracked open an eye despite his attempt to nap before today’s rescue mission. "What...?"
"No, forget it."
Things couldn't go like this forever. It was obvious by now—as long as he couldn’t let go of his past and you couldn’t accept him as he was, this marriage couldn't be saved.
Just as you headed towards the printer in the room, Xavier responded. "You talk a lot, eat a lot, and always bothering me when I'm about to sleep..."
You shot him an irked glance, disbelief evident on your face. "Hey!"
"But—" his clear voice cut through the air as he turned to you with half-lidded eyes. "You're exceptionally kind. If anyone can't appreciate that, then it's their loss."
At that moment, the ice inside your chest melted. To know that your own co-worker thought that kindly of you gave you a little boost of confidence.
But then Xavier added, "Sometimes you're stupid too. It's funny to watch."
"—?! You're so mean!"
A subtle smile curved on his lips as he turned to his side, ready to resume his nap. "Anyway, what are you printing?"
You feigned a huff as you gathered the papers and brought them to your desk. "Just something I need to submit when necessary."
A part of you wasn’t fully committed to it, of course—it was just that your emotions had no proper outlet even until now. As you pushed the drawer shut, a wave of bitterness washed over you as you reread the title on the blank form:
Petition for Divorce.
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Zayne genuinely wanted to treat you well.
You were a nice girl. Too nice even. From the moment he laid his eyes on you some years ago, as a friend of a friend, he knew you were nothing but kind and cheery.
He still remembered that morning vividly: the hurt on your face, the tears welling up in your eyes, and then you breaking into inconsolable sobs. That sight inflicted something in him—it felt as though his own heart had been split in two.
Believe it or not, he cherished you too.
That night, even though he didn’t show it, he was still mourning her. When alcohol took over his mind and he saw you, you seemed like a perfect escape. He thought that even if he forced himself on you, there would be no consequences.
He hated that he had thought that way. He hated that how, in the end, you had become a means of relief for him.
Now you couldn't even look him in the eye, and Zayne didn't want to risk trying to coax you further. You were angry with him and rightly so, but when you ignored him and went home late more often, he was worried.
It was what drove him to volunteer for the rescue mission. When he saw your name on the hunter list, he felt compelled to make sure you were okay.
. . .
It was strange to see you on duty.
With your hunter uniform and your hair tied up, you were the picture of a very capable hunter. Zayne found himself unexpectedly following your movements as you came and went.
"Dr. Zayne, are you checking your wife out?" the EMT next to him teased with a grin. "Well, when you have a pretty wife such as Y/N, of course..."
He cleared his throat and the EMT giggled as he sauntered away.
So, you were also considered attractive here. Of course you were. Zayne knew it, but he just didn't expect that anyone here would blurt it out so openly.
But that wasn't the most surprising of all—
"Xavier, shush!" you playfully punched the blonde man next to you in the chest, your broad smile lighting up the moment. The two of you whispered closely, and Zayne found himself feeling uncomfortable, like being prickled by several needles.
He has never made you laugh so openly like that. The nagging feeling inside him grew stronger as he watched you—even if it was just in a platonic sense—with another man. It stirred something within him, making him want to pull that blonde aside, give him a word or two, and overthrow him altogether.
Amidst the growing storm inside him, you suddenly turned sideways and caught his eye, and Zayne could've sworn... he felt time stopped at that moment.
It was so candid that it took his breath away. The way your earnest, unclouded eyes met his. How natural you were while loading your gun...
Ah, they were right. His wife was exceptionally pretty.
But before he could fully appreciate it, you broke the eye contact and turned away, pretending as if you hadn’t seen him at all.
Zayne wondered then, why did he feel so hurt all of a sudden?
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Battlefields were always a place of chaos, and Zayne was no stranger to it.
He was on standby at the makeshift hospital as patients surged in, continuously aiding first-aid. Some were hunters on duty, and his heart was in his throat the entire time, anxiously hoping you wouldn’t be among them.
"Doc... it still hurts," a little girl sniffled right after Zayne wrapped her injured arm with the gauze. Despite the anxiety, seeing this tearful girl softened his frown.
"It's just going to take a while, hmm?" he patted the kid in the head. "It's going to be better soon enough."
"My mom is still inside..." she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "Doc, will they get her out?"
Zayne hesitated, his thoughts briefly drifting to you. He managed a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry, they’ll—"
Crash! —all of a sudden, a loud explosion shook the hospital, the sound echoing through the chaos. The little girl clung to his coat in fear.
"Call for retreat!" someone suddenly shouted from outside. "Alert all personnel immediately!"
Retreat. The thought that you might be safe soon brought him a sense of relief. He turned to the girl, trying to keep his composure.
"Look, the hunters are retreating, it means most are already evacuated." Zayne managed a reassuring smile. "Stay here. I'll help you find her later, okay?"
He went to the survivors' camp outside, attending to the wounded and keeping a vigilant eye on each returning hunter. Even until 30 minutes later, he still hadn't seen you. Thinking to contact you, he reached out for his phone.
"Who hasn't gotten out?" Jenna, your team leader, demanded the receiver with a stern voice, standing tall several feet away from the camp, and Zayne overheard the snippets of her conversation.
A frantic voice responded, "Xavier is still inside! Y/N too!"
"Those two! They are always—!"
What?
Zayne almost dropped his phone when he heard your name. Terror gripped him instantly, and then suddenly, again, it was his greatest nightmare realized.
You are still inside. You could be hurt. It was possible you had no means to get out of there.
He didn’t register letting go of his coat or crossing the police line—all that mattered was getting to you. He sprinted away, ignoring the shouts of those trying to stop him.
No. Not again!
Debris flew everywhere, and the roars of Wanderers grew louder as he neared the building wreckage. As a splinter was about to hit him, ice shot through his palms, creating a barrier that shattered it.
"Y/N!" he shouted your name, his voice cracking with panic. "Where are you?!"
All he could think about was the memory of you bleeding out in the ER. Zayne never wanted to see that again. Should anything happen to you now...
He didn't want you to be hurt. He hated seeing you cry. For the past weeks, it had torn him apart to see you so unhappy. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, the one you looked at with love.
The realization washed over him like a tidal wave. Yet it wasn’t an epiphany but a simple truth he had always known but never fully grasped until now.
If he lost you now, it'd destroy him.
He continued screaming your name over and over. And then, after turning several turns, he finally saw you, standing alone in the middle of the wreckage—
You turned to him in surprise when you heard your name in his shout, and were rooted to the spot, in disbelief that your husband was right before you.
Zayne felt a wave of relief wash over him, until a hollow croak from above caught his attention. He squinted—
A glass panel had crumbled and was falling directly towards you.
A sense of dread so great overwhelmed him, a lump formed in his throat, and the smoke made it hard to breathe. He sprinted forward, and with everything he had, he pushed you out the way.
The next thing he knew, everything went pitch black.
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"Zayne? Zayne!"
A memory flashed in his mind's eye. The one memory he wished he didn't have to relive ever again.
Sitting on the deserted hospital bench, his eyes were vacant. Utter hollowness choked him, leaving him motionless. It was over. There was no blood on his hands, yet it felt as if there were.
Your grip on his shoulder was tight, shaking him. "Zayne, snap out of it!" and only then he brought himself to meet your eyes.
"She died." That was the only thing he could mutter, pain woven in each word. "She really died."
Your eyes widened in horror, an inaudible gasp left your lips. "Oh..."
He didn't really know what happened next, but he remembered the warmth from when you pulled him to your arms, when sobs wracked his body as he thought the world was ending.
Since then, you have always been there.
And subconsciously, he may have regarded you as his lifeline.
. . .
Another memory.
"Are you awake...?"
His mind was hazy, but he recognized your voice. He blearily opened his eyes to find you placing a cool compress on his forehead.
"Who would have thought the great Dr. Zayne can get a fever?" you said with a soft laugh, patting his hair. "Don’t worry about me. Go back to sleep."
You came to see him. He remembered telling you not to. But you still did, and the fact thawed the ice in his heart.
Just as you were about to leave, his hand reached out and pulled you closer. "Don’t go."
"Are you trying to make me catch your cold too?" you teased with a soft laugh.
"Hmph. Who told you to come here...?"
"Ah, so you're whiny when you're not feeling well," you observed with a smile. "Okay, I'll stay! But only if you agree to nurse me if I catch your cold!"
You were noisy, but endearingly so.
. . .
"Don't pay her any mind," you fidgeted on your seat, a frown on your face. "My mom always does that."
There was never any talk about the nature your relationship between the two of you, but it was clear to everyone nevertheless. You were always around him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much.
And not for the first time, your mother pushed him towards marriage with you.
"People are always getting the wrong idea," you grumbled. "Sorry, Zayne..." you lowered your head, seemingly in regret.
He was puzzled, because to him, it wasn't necessarily false. All things you did together lead to this.
"What if it isn't a wrong idea at all?"
You looked at him with slight surprise. "Huh...?"
Your presence was a gift. That tragedy was devastating, but having you constantly by his side made it bearable. He was fond of you, and the thought that if it's you, then surely...
In this memory, he was more sure than ever. What he said then, it came from the truest place in his heart.
"What if I told you... as of right now, I can't imagine being with anyone but you?"
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The side of his head was throbbing with pain. Everything hurt, the hard asphalt was bruising his face as the headache set in. He could smell the scent of blood and sweat, but more than that—
"Zayne! Ah, hah— Please, please! No!"
Your voice, choked with tears, blared in his ears as you desperately shook him. You sounded so heartbroken, so utterly panicked, and your voice gradually pulled him back to consciousness.
Opening his eyes took tremendous effort. At first, everything was a blur, but then it came into focus—the sight of you disheveled, smeared with soot, with tears streaming down your face. But still you— the woman he had married two years ago.
Yet his heart lurched. You're crying again... why is it that whenever with me, you're always crying?
"Are you... alright?" he rasped, lifting his hand to touch your face.
"Why did you—" You were startled by his question, your gaze fixed on the blood pooling on the side of his face. "Your head is bleeding!"
Ah, so you're fine. The sheer knowledge brought him relief, a faint smile forming at his lips. "I'm glad..."
"I'll help you get back! Hold onto me—" you said after brushing away your tears, lifting him up and draping his arm around your shoulder. "Can you walk?"
"I'm... fine..."
"You're not!" you refuted harshly, voice trembling. "You have to go back!"
You made him lean on you as you made your way back to the makeshift hospital, each step accompanied by your sniffles as you supported his waist.
Zayne glanced at you, feeling a warmth in his chest despite the migraine. "D-Don't cry... I'll be fine."
"You're an idiot!" you choked out, struggling to hold back your tears. "Why did you even come out here?"
"I... have to find you. They said you haven't returned."
"There are still civilians inside! I'll return eventually!"
"I can’t wait for that. I... have to know you're safe."
His response only fueled your frustration. "You don't have to—!"
"You are my wife—" he snapped, turning to you sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. "How can I not worry— for you?"
The forceful tone in his voice went straight to the most tender part of your heart. It really struck you at that moment that he had come out here for you, that his concern for you was that profound.
And that after all these weeks, he still keeps you in his thoughts.
He had pushed you out of the way, even at the cost of himself, barely missing the fallen billboard in that violent crash. If he was in the wrong position, he could've lost his life.
You stared at him, tears glossing your eyes.
"That's enough... Don't cry again." Zayne reached out to wipe your cheeks. His hands, however, were smeared with his own blood, leaving streaks on your face. "Ah... I got blood on you..."
But in that moment, you couldn’t care less. There was this indescribable sting of grief, but also paired with a sense of relief so great in your chest the very second you realize that now, he sees you.
You threw yourself into his arms, hugging him tightly as you sobbed, calling out to him in broken voice. “Z-Zayne...!”
“Why are you crying again...?” he let out a resigned sigh, but still embraced you regardless. “What a crybaby...”
You buried your face deeper into him, shaking uncontrollably. “You... saved me...” you managed to say amidst torrent of tears. “Y-You... got hurt...”
“I’ll be fine,” he retorted in your ear albeit in a hoarse voice, holding you close, even as blood trickled down the side of his face. “And I’d do it again. I refuse to see you hurt.”
You cried harder, and he pulled you tighter, his chest aching at the sight of you so inconsolable. And in that moment, he made the decision right then and there.
He will protect you so long as time will allow him to.
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It was as if the invisible wall between you had crumbled to dust after that incident. You stayed by Zayne's side night and day, monitoring his condition.
And one night, several days later...
"Here, don't move..."
You carefully dressed the wound on Zayne's temple, sitting close beside him. He quietly observed your worried eyes and trembling fingers without a word.
"You even need stitches..." you lamented, biting your lip as you wrapped the bandage around his head. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by the concern you were pouring into the task.
"I'm telling you, I'm fine," he gruffly insisted in an attempt to erase the sadness from your face. He felt the delicate, almost hesitant touch of your fingers on his face. "It'll heal with time."
Even as he said that, a part of you was still troubled at the sight of the wound on his head and cheekbone. No matter what he said, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault.
"I'm done. Now go rest," you said softly, your voice tinged with bitterness after tying the gauze. You rose to put the kit away, but even after you finished, Zayne remained upright on the bed, so you leveled a frown at him.
"What, why aren't you— Ah!"
Before you knew it, he pulled you by the arm, and you tumbled into his chest in surprise. "What are you doing?!" you yelled at him, clinging to his shoulder and looking up at him with ire. "You could've hit your head!"
He looked down at you with a flat expression, or is that a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes? “Can't a husband cuddle his wife?”
You blinked dumbly, caught off-guard. “Yes, you can, but...”
His arms then enveloped you, fitting you on his chest and he sighed against your hair. “Then there’s nothing wrong with it. Let’s just stay like this for now.”
And so, that was how he decided to sleep throughout the night—with you on top of him, held close. You felt self-conscious as Zayne had never initiated this closeness with you since that night.
"Are you sure you want to sleep this way?" you wriggled a bit in his grasp.
He draped an arm around your waist, pressing his eyes shut. "Mm-hm."
"You..." A part of you recoiled at the vulnerability but decided to ask anyway. "Won't this be… a mistake...?"
That caught his attention, as Zayne's eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you, who avoided his gaze with a pout and a torn expression, making yourself small in his embrace.
It dawned on him then that this persisting issue in your marriage was thoroughly his fault. His past was something he could never—and would never—trade for anything, but right now, you were that sense of peace that grounded him.
At one point, he has to let it go. These feelings inside him… they drive him to.
He softened, his gaze full of understanding as he gently brushed your hair back. "No," he said quietly, his voice tender. "We’ve come too far for it to be one."
Your clear, innocent eyes reluctantly met his, and at that moment something akin to clarity resonated within him.
He once thought nothing could ever mend the hollowness in his heart. And once, he indeed hoped that being with you would provide some form of relief or replace what he had lost.
But right now, feeling how vulnerable you were in his arms like this, he understood that you were not, and could never be, a replacement for anything else. Even before he realized it himself, what he felt for you was something entirely different— something dear that had grown and evolved into a genuine affection different from what he had felt for anyone else before.
Those times spent with you, wanting to protect you... Now that he reflected on it, it was never about filling a void, after all.
“I... want to treasure you better.”
Oh. Your heart thumped loudly as those words left his lips, warmth spreading through your entire being. Overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice, you clung to his chest, feeling a surge of love and a profound sense of being freed from the chains of insecurity that had taken you hostage all these years.
Most precious. Zayne smiled at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
“This time for sure... I will.”
And at last... he could say it without any lingering guilt.
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losersiren · 7 months ago
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𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭
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"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o
The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.
You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 
“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.
The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.
What a bastard
“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.
”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”
His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.
He should’ve fought harder for you.
People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.
 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 
“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.
The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.
The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.
“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.
You’re so close
“I forgive you…I forgive you…”
“I forgive you, Ambrose…”
Oh…
His name on your tongue….
His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.
“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”
.." Or shall I beg more?"
End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)
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stackslip · 2 months ago
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fujimoto is the absolute king of creating a world where mass death is a regular occurrence and yet every single time it feels singularly devastating. i've seen people say his work is nihilistic, that people die over nothing--i profoundly disagree! again and again, it is made clear that the deaths and horrors in chainsaw man aren't random acts of god, and that the people who die aren't random faces in a crowd but people who are willingly sacrificed in the name of social cohesion and the comfort of a few. the people killed by the gun devil all had names, lives, ages that were inescapable and their deaths are just as bad of a tragedy's as aki's. asa's mom's death might have been forgotten by all, and yet it has a profound impact on asa's own life and outlook. the people convinced to commit suicide by falling had long discussions about their everyday life before they fell off their balcony. it is power and nayuta's deaths--people who mattered little to makima and to barem, who were simply seen as tools for an end--that utterly crush denji and awaken pochita. himeno lost her partners, one by one, and every time she got more and more depressed. these are real people, all of them! their lives mattered! death is a normal occurence in chainsaw man, but the loss of a life is a tragedy every time
most importantly; most of these mass death events, as normalized as they are, are not random or natural. they're the result of devils being used as tools, of the powerful using those that they consider belong to them as payment for their comfort or to further their goals. in chapter one, denji got murdered after a lifetime of abuse as payment for his abuser's eagerness for power. the president of the united states pays for the gun devil to fight makima with one year from each american's life. the japanese government pays for makima's every death with the death of a citizen. public safety regularly sends its employees to cut their throats for a devil to wipe out a building. the german government contracted santa claus and gave her children in return. the chainsaw man cult used its desperate, scared child members to gain an army.
and now, foreign children are given citizenship simply so they can be gunned down coldly and used as blood and payment to use chainsaw man and make scared, rich old men live longer. idk how much more explicit you can be here. look at these kids! do their lives mean nothing? they're drawn in loving detail. they're real people being sent to be butchered!
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death in chainsaw man isn't meaningless. far from it! this isn't saying "this world is absurd and has no meaning". this is about exploitation. chainsaw man has always been about exploitation and abuse, at its very core. these people mean something. these are real human beings, being fed to the grinder, again and again. they're being fed to it BY the rich and powerful, by their governments, by their employers, by their abusers. hell, yoru has fed her own children to this grinder, just to get a little more. ownership and greed, this is the core of what's happening. this is murder, not random acts of violence!
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elflutter · 16 days ago
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— i'll love you forever (a momma, you'll be)
kinktober 03 → ruts & breeding kink
in a rut!logan x f!reader
synopsis
You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this day: Logan at his most fertile; you at yours. Even though you’ve talked about it, stopped your birth control for it, an an unspoken question still lingers in his gaze. You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?
wordcount: 2.7k
tags/warnings below the cut!
tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), worst wolverine, light a/b/o dynamics (ruts), breeding kink, daddy kink, light dom/sub, age gap (reader is 25+), logan calls himself old man, pet names (incl. sweetheart, baby, momma), unprotected p i v, creampie, fingering, mention of a safeword (not used), reader is ovulating, mentions of pregnancy, pussy pronouns (she/her), logan can pick up reader (but he can lift up to 800 lbs so), logan calls reader's pussy his, no use of y/n. i'm sure i've forgotten something, please let me know if i have!
a/n: idk what came over me with this one omfg. some of this filth was definitely influenced by some other amazing fics i've read this kinktober. the way you want to by @eupheme and baby fever by @silverskyeline come to mind specifically! please go give them some love if you enjoy this one, hehe. and thank you @sceletaflores for hyping up all my depraved ideas, ily
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Your boyfriend’s mutation provides certain… perks to your relationship. Firstly, he’s strong enough to pick you up like you weigh less than nothing. And with the healing factor, his refractory period is practically non-existent. But, you think your favorite part of his mutation might be the one on display right now.
Logan’s pupils are blown wide the moment he walks through the door to your shared apartment. The front of his flannel is dark with sweat, a common sight after another long day at the construction job Wade helped secure for him a couple years back. But, from the bulge is already visible through worn jeans, you think all that sweat might be from something else, too. Something that sends electricity shooting down your spine, because you’ve been waiting for this.
Logan clicks the door shut, twisting the lock behind him without looking away from you, his stare heavy and heated. He pulls off his work boots like he cant rid himself of them fast enough, and you’re surprised the well broken-in leather doesn’t rip under his ironclad grip. The thought of that grip on your body, those fingers pressed into the plush of your thighs, has warmth pooling in your core— thick and sweet, like honey in your veins. Heavy and intoxicating, like the whiskey on his breath when you first met.
His biceps bulge beneath rolled-up sleeves as he reaches down to adjust his hard-on, and he prowls to where you sit on the couch, body twisted so you can keep your eyes on him. When Logan finally reaches you in the living room, you’re certain you’ve soaked through the lace of your panties. You straighten out your torso to face forward as he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his broad form.
His voice is as rough and dark as the denim of his work jeans when he finally speaks. His grip hard on your ass, just how you like it. Fingers dig into the thin fabric of your leggings as he pulls your body to the edge of the couch.
“Rut’s here, sugar.” He buries his nose against your hair, breathing in deep— the warm vanilla of your shampoo mixing with the heady scent of your arousal. He speaks into your hair, like he wants to bury himself there. “And I could fuckin’ smell you from the hallway. Drippin’ for me, huh?” He nuzzles in even deeper then, indulging.
You wait for his nose to pick it up— that you’re fertile. You should be, if you’re tracking correctly. You pray that you are. You think you must be ovulating, from the throbbing ache you’ve felt all day. Aching for Logan, for his thick girth to split you open, to be full of him. For that moment, as he empties within you, of soul-deep connection.
When Logan groans against you, the sound a broken thing, your racing heart kicks up a beat. He’s scented it; you’re certain. Logan pulls back, his large hands moving to cradle your face with a gentleness that sends a pang through your chest.
“Baby, are you—” He searches your eyes for an answer, as if he can peer into them and see your desires.
Even during these ruts, when his body burns with an ache only for you, to fuck and to fill, to claim, you call the shots. You tell him to stop, that it’s too much, and he will. He’s still Logan, always in control of himself. It’s not unlike how your sex drive changes, during your own cycle. And, shit, you’re weak for it. Always have been.
You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this day: Logan at his most fertile; you at yours. Even though you’ve talked about it, stopped your birth control for it, an an unspoken question still lingers in his gaze.
You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?
You nod; the sting in your chest drowning out the ache in your core for a moment. One day, you hope, he’ll see that you want everything he could possibly give you.
“Yeah, baby. It’s time, I’m ovulating.” Leaning forward, you press your forehead against his, fingers moving to rub gentle circles in his hair. “Please, Lo. Want your baby.”
His lips crash into yours, then, before he’s scooping you up. You hook your feet behind his back as he carries you to the bed, peppering you with kisses and breathy murmurs in your ear.
“Alright, sweetheart, want me to fuck a baby into that sweet little cunt?” His teeth are on your earlobe, hot breath grazing each of his love-bites. You’ve melted into putty in his hands when he finally sets you down on the plush surface of the bed, mind a haze of lust and longing. “Gonna look so good with my baby in you, my little momma.”
Your cheeks grow hot, his words nestling through your mind and finding a home in the dull throbbing between your legs. His name escapes your lips in a needy whine. Before you can say anything else, he flips you onto your stomach. His grip finds your hips, pulling up until your ass is in the air right at the edge of the bed; face buried in the covers.
Logan’s hands move to cup the swell of your bottom as he stands behind you, humming in satisfaction.
“Such a pretty little present, comin’ home to her every day.” Your face heats as you realize he’s not talking to you, but your pussy. “She’s fucking drippin’ for me, isn’t that right?”
All you can manage is a nod and a pathetic whimper, words lost somewhere in the haze of desire.
His palms brush up your back, until he reaches out to grab one of your breasts, his other hand supporting his upper body as he leans over you until you feel his hot breath against your ear.
“Already cock drunk, Momma? Haven’t even touched you yet.”
“L- Logan, please—” you keen. You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed about your desperation. You feel so achingly empty— just need his cock in your pussy; his come deep and warm inside your womb. The pet-name plays in your mind on repeat. Momma. Momma. Momma.
The image of walking around in a few months, full with his child, and everyone will know who you belong to. Who did this to you. He’ll make you face the mirror above the dresser while he stuffs you full of his come, night after night, whispering how good you look now that he put a baby in you.
He doesn’t move his lips from where they brush against your ear. “Gonna unwrap my present now. Wanna see that pretty pussy. Know she needs some attention, doesn’t she?”
You nod desperately. Suddenly, he stands up straight again, and before you can even protest at the loss of his body heat pressed up against yours, you hear his claws unsheathe with a snikt.
The claws— another favorite aspect of your boyfriend’s mutation in bed. You never knew ruined clothes would get you so damn wet. But it triggers a primal satisfaction deep within you whenever Logan rips through your leggings, your panties, anything keeping the two of you apart. You’ve invested in owning several pairs of the same cheap leggings at any given time, so Logan doesn’t have to worry about replacing the garments he destroys.
He tugs his claws through your leggings and underwear until they lie in pieces beneath you on the bed, and you whine as the cold air of the room grazes where you throb for him. Logan would usually tease you until you were a sobbing mess beneath him, making you drip through the gusset of ruined panties, grinding against your clothed slit. Then, he would make you fall apart on his mouth, then on his fingers, then make you beg, before he’d finally sheathe himself within you.
You thank whatever higher power exists in the multiverse— you think you remember Wade mention someone called Marvel Jesus?— that Logan could only taunt you with one or two lewd comments before he is ripping at your clothes and stepping out of his jeans, shirt tossed aside, to line himself up at your weeping entrance.
Logan is still standing on the floor behind the bed while your ass is swaying in the air where he’s positioned you at the edge, begging for attention. When the fat head of his cock brushes against your puffy folds, heat blooms beneath each place he teases. You can’t help how your neglected cunt clenches around nothing; desperate for something— anything to ease the throbbing ache. Logan grinds his hardness against you— the tip rubbing at your clit has you keening before he slips two fingers into your slick heat.
Every sense is overwhelmed as you feel him enveloping you in his body— his cock teasing at your clit. His breath hot in your ear. One arm between your bodies, fingers curling deep inside. The other, resting on the bed beside your head. All you can feel is Logan, Logan, Logan, all over.
“Gotta get my pussy ready,” his words brush against the shell of your ear. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
Your eyes scrunch shut, the image of how you’d look with Logan’s cock buried within you playing in the darkness of your vision— hips slamming into your ass. Balls making soft plap plap plaps as they slap against your swollen nub. Thinking of Logan, his body on fire with his need to claim you— to breed you. Filling you with his come until your womb is flooded with it. Imagining how you’ll grow plump with his child. You can’t be blamed for the lewd response slips out of you in response to his question.
“Yes, Daddy—” the last word is whined out before you can stop yourself. Cheeks heat, as you realize what you’ve called him. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of it before. His fingers speed within you, curling against the little textured spot inside that Logan knows so well it’s like he owns it.
“Fuck, baby,” Logan pants, his hips grinding to match the pace of his hand. “You’re gonna make me a daddy. You want that, baby?”
His words are rough against your ear— letting out a little hum as you sink even deeper in the haze of pleasure, tension winding tight in your gut.
“Say it.”
The command in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.
Your own voice wobbles, sounding small and pathetic, as you eek out a response that is little more than a whine, “W-wanna make you a daddy!”
“Attagirl.”
A feral smile against your ear, as his possessive praise alights sparks within you. Somehow, Logan plunges his fingers even deeper, then. His hips never slow where they grind against your folds, cockhead notching against your clit just right, and suddenly that coiling tension releases with a snap.
Your climax hits you, legs quaking as warmth spreads out from your core, until you can feel it wash through your limbs. The fingers in your cunt work you through the pleasure, slowing as you pant against the bedsheets.
Standing tall behind you again, you don’t have time to mourn the loss of Logan’s fingers before he positions himself at your slit.
His voice, gentle, when he speaks before slipping inside. “Remember your word, darlin’?”
Your cheeks heat. He always asks that, when he’s about to fuck you into the mattress until you can’t remember your own name. He’s especially careful to remind you of it when he’s in a rut. You nod, telling him the word you can always say if it gets too much. Apple, and he’ll stop.
His palms cup your ass possessively, splaying his fingers wide to hold as much as he can. “You ready to be a momma?”
You nod your assent.
Logan clicks his tongue, and you can hear the smug smile in his voice. “Use your words for Daddy.”
His words are firm, smug, and for a moment you think he might be making fun of you. But you can tell he’s desperate in the way he pushes the tip of his cock inside you before you can respond. You never thought you’d hear Logan call himself daddy, and it turns you on way more than it should.
“Ready to be a momma, Lo, fuck,” you swear as his weeping head pushes past your puffy folds and into your swollen cunt.
It seems that your words snapped the last of his restraint, finally allowing his base urges to take over. For him to claim you how you’ve both ached for since he crossed the threshold into your shared apartment.
He pushes the rest of the way into you, hissing through his teeth as his hips finally meet the plush of your ass. When he starts thrusting, it’s a rough, feral thing. His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back to meet him with every thrust. You’re a rag doll in his arms, ass up and on display, face buried as you moan into the sheets.
Logan looks down at you from where he stands, watching his thick length disappear into your tight little hole. When he speaks, his voice comes out in a growl. He can’t help it, with the image of you— fucked out and ruined beneath him. He plans to keep you in this bed, putting his sweet little pussy to use until he can be certain it took.
“Look so fuckin’ good like this, sugar. Lettin’ your old man fill your tight little hole. Gonna keep you full all night, gonna feel my come leakin’ out for days.”
All you can do is whine into the sheets, growing damp with drool as his hips pound against you in hungry thrusts.
“Y’want that, sweetpea? Want daddy’s come?”
Your answer is torn from your throat in a desperate sob.
“Yes!”
Logan’s grip shifts until he’s got one fist full of your tits and one palm flattened against your belly, pulling your body upright against his while he drives his cock up into your weeping cunt. He palms at your breasts, fingers ghosting across your nipples until both are hard and stinging. His grip pinches and soothes, and soon the palm against your stomach moves downward. Then he’s circling your clit, his cock finding that perfect spot inside your walls before plunging deeper until you can feel it brush against your cervix.
Each sensation washes over you, waves lapping against your toes at first. But the water rises higher, higher, higher until you’re drowning in pleasure, your orgasm pulling you under as you come on his cock. You can feel Logan’s words brush against your ear, as you come undone.
“Good fuckin’ girl, coming on your old man’s cock. Lettin’ me do what I need t’ya.” His words are a low snarl when he continues, thrusting harder and harder. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up real good now, gonna put a baby in this tight little pussy.”
You feel your lips form the word yes, over and over, and you think you must be chanting it like a prayer, as his hips snap into you. Logan’s pace grows frenzied as your walls flutter around him in the aftershock of your climax. Reckless, as he pounds into your puffy cunt, your slick leaking down his shaft onto his balls until he finally falls over the edge with a growl. You feel his cock pulse, impossibly deep, filling you with thick ropes of spend. His thrusts slow, but don’t stop, as he fucks his seed further into you.
Logan gingerly lowers the both of you to the bed. You sigh contentedly, finally laying flat on your stomach. Logan cants himself on his elbows above you, still plugged full of his cock.
You can’t help but giggle— he might be into the whole daddy thing even more than you. And that is saying a lot, because you are super into it.
“Lo, that was so fucking hot.”
He chuckles darkly, pulling out before he gathers up the come leaking out of your used cunt and pushes it back inside with his fingers.
“Hope ya don’t think I’m done with you for the night.” Your cheeks heat as you realize he’s growing hard again, his length resting against your ass cheek. “Not even close, bub.”
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thank you so much for reading this! id you liked it, please leave a comment or an rb! i would love to hear what you thought!
lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics
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yanderefarm · 22 days ago
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fucking DAN FENG's previous previous incarnation so good the memories latch with every incarnation ever and they're all so head over heels in love for reader like damn.
Reader is basically their mate as if they all know by instinct that he's THE ONE that fucked them SO GOOD.
It's like that with dan feng too, the moment he saw you he just went feral with instinct and need, the unfamiliar yet familiar sensations rushed through him and he acted on impulse, pulling you to his chamber and kissed you hard and rough like all the previous incarnation did before.
It's the same now with dan heng too.
The moment he saw you, next to jing yuan at the devine commission, he had to squeeze his thighs to hold in a whimper
who are you really? dan feng/dan heng
cw;; angst, nsft, tail pulling, blood mention
im sorry for being a whore for the sads. i was thinking about this quest in canon about a vidyadhara and a xianzhou native where this guy falls in love with her in every life but for her it's just losing the person she loves over and over again. i think a relationship between a vidyadhara and a xianzhou native is inherently pretty sad like that but I think adding the fact that dan feng is the xianzhou's biggest fuck up to the mix makes it even more. that's why I wrote it with y/n being kind of distant because like... how many times has he loved this man so much and so deeply only to be forgotten and treated like a stranger?
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who are you? dan feng asks himself a thousand times. he knows technically who you are, you're an attendant for general jingliu. he doesn't know why his thighs squeeze around nothing when he's near you, he doesn't know why when you touch him his body grows so hot it's hard to think, he doesn't know why your voice makes him want to fall to his knees. he can surmise you know but he never has the chance to get you alone, he only ever sees you when you're with the general.
then one day you're running an errand for her that brings you to his estate. your errand doesn't matter because the vidyadhara high elder has ordered you to his bed chamber. he was just going to interrogate you. he needed to finally know who you were.
that plan fell apart when you casually entered his room. you were standing there, a knowing smile on your face and your head cocked to the side. dan feng may have lacked the memories of his former lives but his body didn't. with a practiced ease he slipped his robes over his shoulders, his eyes asking if you liked what you saw.
"you're insatiable as always, high elder. I've not yet had a full conversation with you but you're here exposing yourself to me." you stepped forward until your legs reached the bed.
"you know me...?" it wasn't really a question considering you both clearly knew the answer.
you laughed at him. choosing to respond with your hand coming up and gently pushing his robe further off his body. his skin met the cold air and his soft pink nipples immediately hardened earning another warm laugh from you. he felt like you were mocking him but he couldn't bring himself to be offended, instead his heart felt warm.
you traced your fingers down his thin chest until they met where his robes were tied around his waist. "you can stop me whenever you want, high elder."
"dan feng." he said softly, almost embarrassed by himself.
"hm?" you tilted your head at him.
"my name, it's dan feng." that earned him another laugh.
"ahh sorry, dan feng. i've never known any of you to like being called your title." your tone was smug and oh so knowing.
your hand pulled at the knot around his waist finally undoing it and exposing his naked front to your leering eyes. dan feng found himself unable to form words as his cock twitched and swelled with desire that wasn't entirely his. he expected you to mock him, to laugh at his pathetic state that he couldn't even explain. yet you didn't, your arrogant smirk had even disappeared from your lips as you focused your gaze on his body. your head was so close to his that the young dragon could smell your hair but you weren't even looking at him instead your face had an odd expression as you stared at his body. he opened his mouth to speak as your eyes came back up to stare into his, your eyes took his breath away. he'd never seen you this close before but now you were right in front of him so close he could touch you and your beautiful eyes were looking at him with an emotion he couldn't decipher.
"i can help you take care of this, dan feng." your voice sounded odd, lacking the arrogance of before.
dan feng reached up and grabbed your arms with a desperation he'd never felt before. "you know that my body is yours."
a heavy smile crossed your face. "i wouldn't dare lay claim to your body, dan feng."
"... is my appearance not to your liking?" he felt like he'd done something wrong to you and that was the only reason you didn't have him shoved into his bed right now.
you blinked at him before your arrogant smile returned to your face. "you're beautiful."
"then ravish me." he pushed aside the odd feeling in his chest and took up a commanding tone.
you didn't waste any time immediately your mouth was on his, like a man dying of thirst as your tongue pressed to his lips. dan feng who had never known these things in this life felt his body reacting on instinct and pulled you down over top of him. your hands explored him like they had done so a thousand times, effortlessly finding weak spots that he didn't even know existed. one of your larger hands pinched his perky nipple drawing out a loud moan that let you slide your tongue in his mouth. your other hand hiked his thigh onto your hip allowing you easy access to roll your clothed hips against him. dan feng was moaning and squirming under your large body, his hands struggling against the overwhelming pleasure to get your clothes off.
it was only once his cock was red and leaking that you finally eased off of him. your hands were fumbling to quickly pull your clothes off as you took in heavy breaths. despite dan feng's own incompetence when it came to touching you it seemed like you were also aroused. his eyes watched transfixed as you undid your belt, your thumbs hooking into your pants and dragging them down. his eyes immediately fixed on the large bulge in your underwear, his mouth starting to water with desire.
you laughed at his pathetic state. "patience, dear."
your hand came over to rub your thumb over his kiss swollen lips, the slightest brush against his bottom lip had his mouth opening and taking your thumb on his tongue. on instinct he sucked on your thumb, his tongue swirling around the digit with precision he shouldn't have possessed. you moaned, sliding your thumb deeper into his mouth until your whole digit was coated in his spit.
"that feels nice doesn't it, dan feng? i know it feels so good to let your head empty for me." your thumb began to pull out of his mouth slowly but he scraped his teeth against the top of it in a minor attempt to stop you.
"mm such a good boy." your voice was so warm and calming as your thumb pushed back into his mouth.
"its ok, lose yourself. the only thing that matters is pleasing me." you pulled your thumb free from his mouth as his eyes finally grew hazy and distant.
"what do I do...?" dan feng could feel his head grow fuzzy as his body got hotter.
"wanna see you with your tail in the air pretty boy."
all it took was your words and dan feng found himself face down in his bed, his tail held high in the air. you ran your fingers from the base of his tail up drawing an absolutely sinful moan from the high elder. when your fingers finally began to push at his hole they slid in easily like his body had already molded to your shape. his body greeted you like an old friend; his hole already loose and ready for you, your every touch drawing little moans and shivers from him. it didn't take long for him to be a drooling and ready mess against his silk sheets.
your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, they always have. your thick cock fills the pretty dragon beneath you until his stomach is bulging but he doesn't whine in pain. his tail fits so perfectly in your hand and acts like such a good handle so you can jack hammer deep inside him. his pretty pink swollen lips hang open with drool dripping down his chin between his cock drunk babbling. he cums first in his pathetic state, cock spilling all over the sheets before he feels his legs try to give. you don't let him fall, hands keeping his hips in the air when he no longer has the strength to do it himself.
you were planning to make him cum and stop but your body craved him just as much as he craved you. you buried your face into his hair, pressing your chest down against his back, trying to memorize as much of him as possible. you should have completely memorized him by now but every time things like his soft scent and pretty voice were the first things to fade. your nails dug into his hips enough to draw blood but dan feng didn't do anything but moan and whine in reaction. your pretty dragon didn't know that you were currently struggling to ingrain him into your mind, all he knew was that his mate was fucking him like a wild animal.
you mouthed slurred praise against his neck; telling him he was so good for you, so pretty, took him so well, such a good slut. it was hard to tell if it was the hickey you left in his skin or the excess praise that caused him to cum again. his hole tightened so much around you that you lost yourself, finally pumping ropes of cum in his tight ass. his pretty thighs were trembling and he babbled his thank yous clearly believing that was the end of your mating. you only gave yourself a moment to rest before you continued your jackhammer pace.
the pretty high elder was an absolute mess when you finished with him; bruises, bite marks, scratches, cum stains, hand prints. he was so fucked out you had to gingerly move him into place in your arms, you held him like you'd held him a thousand times. his pretty eyes blinked at you as he fought to stay conscious but your hand gently rubbing his back certainly made it difficult.
"mate..." he whined so softly his voice raw from the hours of use.
you pressed a kiss into his hair. "so good for me."
---
from then dan feng didn't receive any answers, you actively tried to avoid his question. but despite the look you would get occasionally you always remained by his side. you felt like you were at a distance but you gave him everything he asked for so how could he be angry? you wish that back then you had let yourself love him properly, you should have indulged yourself in the lovey dovey actions of his past lives. you didn't realize that he would be gone for good.
all at once you lost everything in your life because of your mate's foolishness but you didn't even get the right to be angry at him. you remember when jing yuan stepped up as general and asked you to assist him the same way you had his mentor. at the time you had only asked that you be exempt from attending the high elder's trial, you wanted your last memory of him to be anything but him in chains. if you could have you would remove the last memory of jingliu being covered in your friend's blood from your brain too. but even while the xianzhou recovered you were left to remember the past.
it was the longest 500 years of your infinitely long life. you could tell that several times jing yuan thought he would lose you to the mara but you persisted. you remained a loyal attendant to the general even as the ambrosial arbor looked to tear the ship apart. when you have nothing but time of course everything will eventually recover.
"you don't need to attend." jing yuan sounded thoughtful while you poured his tea.
"i would find it rude to run away from the people who saved our home." your face was emotionless and empty like it had been for a long time. you caught the general giving you a pitying look before he enjoyed his tea.
you couldn't have guessed why he would look at you like that. you couldn't have guessed that tricky bastard wouldn't have just told you. the visitors from the astral express were standing there looking at you, a background employee who had just dropped and smashed a 300 year old tea set all over the divination commission floor. your eyes were fixed on the black haired man, the one who was unmistakably looked just like dan feng. his eyes met yours and the slightest of blushes crossed his cheeks like it had in a thousand life times before.
"i apologize for-" jing yuan was cut off by that soft voice.
"who are you..?"
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neil-gaiman · 5 months ago
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hi neil. i've held off on writing this message for a bit because i didn't know if i could get it out or not.
i work in a senior healthcare facility. not a nurse or anything, i actually just serve food to the residents, but it's given me the ability to get to know a lot of the people that live there. because of this, i was able to befriend a wonderful lady named sally. she would always come talk to me while i served up the meals, and we'd have nice chats. she spent most of her time reading books, since she didn't like to do many of the activities with the other residents, and since she loved books with mystery and suspense, i loaned her my copy of american gods, thinking that she'd enjoy it. and she did! i loved it when she'd come talk to me about the chapter she'd just read, our little chats about wednesday, just everything. i was happy that she liked the book.
our chats kind of tapered off after awhile, and we didn't talk as much. she's had my book for well over a year now, which i hadn't minded, but she eventually started picking up our chats again, about the book. but she was talking about how she had just started reading it and that she was really interested in it so far. i came to realize some time later that sally was actually just finally showing signs of dementia, which was saddening for me to hear, but it's one of the heavy realities of working in a facility like this. she had always struggled with some memory and speech issues, but i'd always chalked it up to her older age.
anyway. i am saddened by this onset, but at the same time, i am also finding some strange comfort in knowing that she will come up to me at breakfast, wanting to talk to me about american gods, because she's forgotten that she's already read most of it, and she just reads the first few chapters over and over. she doesn't leave her room without it, she brings it to the table with her every day. when she leaves the facility with her family for an outing, she brings it with her. i am just. so comforted knowing that your book i loaned her a year ago is a source of joy and delight for her, and continues to be so over and over. i know i'll never get that book back, and i won't ever try to get it back from her, even if she stops reading it. i want her to keep it.
i now have a streak regarding losing my books that you've written, i'm two for two now, haha
idk. i'm just really kind of overwhelmed today by all the emotions surrounding it and i'm just happy that you wrote something that she likes so much, and that we talk about it even though she doesn't remember that we've talked about it a dozen times before. i love each and every chat with her so much, and i want to keep having them with her for as long as i can. thank you for your work.
Some of the happiest hours of my life were spent with a friend with advanced Parkinson's dementia, sitting on his porch with him, both of us reading. And he read the same few pages over and over and it was okay.
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smileysuh · 6 months ago
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comfort cuisine
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🌙 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 :)
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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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.”
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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. 
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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.”
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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.”
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! This was such a fun project for me, thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to write for Chef John, he deserved his happy ending :)
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. The man ordering can’t see you lying on the floor of the food truck. He has no idea what’s going on- and you feel like tempting fate a little. You bring your hand to your pussy, beginning to rub yourself through your pants, adjusting the vibrator ever so slightly as it buzzes inside you. Johnny nearly drops the tomato he’s holding, quickly tearing his gaze from yours. You’ve never seen him trying to focus this hard- and failing. What had been your torture initially, has just become his own, and you kind of love it.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a food truck), use of vibrator while helping a customer, vibrator as a makeshift gag ball, breast worship, fucking with half your clothes on, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) honey
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 230
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
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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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smutoperator · 1 month ago
Text
Bad Girl, Good Girl
Bae Suzy/Lee Doona, Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader
Part of Legends series
Tags: all holes filled, alter ego, anal, choking, creampies, crush, domination, (a bit of) facefucking, k-drama references, lookalike, morning sex, older/younger, peeing, rimming, rough sex, (a bit of) shower sex, (lots of) slapping, threesome, toilet dunking
Word count: 7318.
After your first year in university, you had enough of commuting every day to college, deciding to move to a new flat close to it. However, you had forgotten the password the landlord had given you, drawing the suspicion of an older woman who was already living there.
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"Who are you?" the woman asks as she's smoking a cigarette and sees you typing the wrong password. "Sorry, I just moved here, but I can't seem to remember the password," you told her. "Here is my rental agreement", you said, giving her proof you weren't some random stranger.
The woman noticed your t-shirt. "The girl in it is so pretty," she said, pointing to Bae Suzy, the very famous idol and actress. "Yes, I love her," you replied. She then picked up the password in her phone and let you in.
"My name is Doona; I've been living here for a while," the woman told you. "Nice to meet you, Doona; I am Won Jun," you replied to her. "Just be aware of the rules of the house; I won't bother you as long as you keep things to yourself," she told you.
You started settling things down in your bedroom but were already plotting to break those rules. Indeed, you were quite a party animal and not very rule-abiding, as you were already texting your college crush to meet you at your new home.
A few hours later, Doona noticed the noise coming from the kitchen in the common area that interrupted her sleep. A few groans, moans, and sloppy sounds that she could hear loud and clear. She slowly got closer, until she was finally able to look at a shocking scene: a long-legged girl on her knees with her perfectly shaped butt already out in the open and sucking your cock.
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"Oh my God, Doona, what are you doing?" you asked her. "You really didn't respect my rules," she angrily pointed at you. "I'm sorry," you told her. "Damn it, you guys are all the same, always partying and bringing girls to my house," she said. "That's not your house, Doona," you tried to remind her.
Doona looked at the young girl on her knees. For the first time in a while, she felt jealous. The girl truly looked like a taller, younger version of herself. She made Doona feel old. But the older girl quickly decided to show her who was the one in command.
"You're sucking his cock the wrong way; let me show you how it's done," Doona said to the girl. "By the way, what is your name?" she asked. "Kazuha," the girl answered.
Doona grabbed your cock with just one hand and slowly started going down on it. You could tell she was way more experienced than Kazuha, sucking it without using her teeth, unlike the young girl. Kazuha felt a little embarrassed, just licking your shaft instead when Doona handed her the cock. As she slowly gained confidence to suck your cock the right way, Doona started taking her clothes off already, leaving her legs bare to match with Kazuha.
Doona watched Kazuha go down on your as she caressed your balls and kissed you. Your hands reached on both sides and ran over their naked butts. Kazuha licked your cock while Doona tasted the tip of it, then the young girl stroked and while Doona slowly bobbed her head on it. The double blowjob session kept going, now with Zuha taking your shaft in her mouth as Doona licked your balls.
"Fuck, that's amazing," you said as both girls fought for your attention. They were like an angel and a devil. The young, still learning Kazuha, the good girl. And the very experienced Doona, with her masterful skills, the bad girl. She truly sucked your cock masterfully, getting sloppier as you looked eye to eye on Kazuha and smiled at your crush.
Kazuha tried to imitate the moves of Doona during her turns sucking your cock. The older girl looked at her, and her eyes told Kazuha she was doing it right. Doona licked your balls perfectly while Kazuha kept savoring your pole. "Oh wow," you said as the two hit the right spots.
Doona gave you a no-hands deepthroat that sent shivers down your spine. If Kazuha wasn't exactly the best college student, she was actually learning quite well from the girl that looked like her older self, matching Doona's moves to perfection while trying a few extra ones. 
You truly felt like a boss with two beautiful girls worshipping your cock on their knees. "That's fucking hot," you said as both licked your meat at the same time. The two kept going until Doona whispered a few words in Kazuha's ear.
"Be a bad girl and sit on his cock."
Kazuha obliged and lined up your shaft against her pussy, slowly impaling herself on it as your manhood disappeared inside her and her fit ass dropped down your crotch. Eager to watch, Doona sat on your face and looked right at the youngster as Kazuha slowly started to bounce on your pole, taking some time to adjust as this was the first time you two had sex, all thanks to Doona.
You truly couldn't have dreamed of something better than this. Your crush was riding your cock while Doona's pussy was right in your face for you to lick. A truly amazing experience. You gave a little slap to Kazuha's fit butt, telling her to go faster, while Doona was already creaming your face full of her juices. She lowered her dress, pushing Kazuha to suck her tits and helping the youngster deal with the heat of your cock in her pussy, as she could clearly tell she was struggling with such a big dick.
Kazuha tilted her body and moaned as you reached to rub her asshole. She finally felt safe enough to bounce faster on your cock, and you responded by thrusting upwards towards her tight hole, making the old couch creak. But Kazuha quickly managed to reassure herself, spreading her ass and learning the right way to ride your pole while her pussy creamed all over it.
"How does that feel?" you asked Doona as you kept licking her juicy pussy. "Really good; I guess you're making it up well for breaking the rules," she answered. Doona had such a good slit, with lips that fit perfectly in your mouth. One that you couldn't wait to get inside of too, as you could feel how warm it was.
You grabbed Kazuha's waist and thrust upwards, leading the young girl to let out loud moans. Doona looked at her, as Zuha could tell she was instructing her on how to deal with it. You kept licking Doona's cunt while pounding Kazuha's, getting more and more enamored with it, sticking her tongue deep in her folds in sync with your cock, reaching all the way deep into Kazuha's cervix.
Kazuha got pounded harder and harder, making Doona a bit jealous as she started to crave for your cock. The young girl could barely stay on her feet as she looked at Doona for more instructions, but this time, the noona left her on her own. Her ass getting spanked, her pussy destroyed. It was the perfect initiation for Zuha.
You carried Zuha up while keeping your cock inside her pussy. Doona looked at the scene and smiled, watching you passionately carry fuck Kazuha as she kept moaning and your hips made loud noise every time they thrust into her. Kazuha clinged to you until you gave her a final spank, telling her to drop to her knees and taste herself while you kissed a now completely naked Doona, who was ready to go next.
Thanks to Zuha's quick blowjob, your cock easily slid inside Doona's pussy. But as soon as it did, she quickly tightened it up. You quickly responded, carrying her slim body up while sucking her perky tits as Kazuha dove between your legs and licked your balls while you adjusted your cock inside Doona's cunt.
"Stay right there. I got you, and I'm gonna fuck that pussy good," you told a smiling Doona, who enjoyed having her body lifted up in the air. You bounced Doona's smile against your cock as she laughed and moaned, feeling a tingling sensation she hadn't in a long time.
"Now I want you to take control and teach Zuha how to ride a cock properly," you told Doona after you put her body back on the ground. She quickly obliged, sliding it back inside in reverse cowgirl to give Zuha a perfect view of it. "Oh shit," you said as Doona's walls quickly wrapped around your cock.
But her pussy was so enticing you quickly forgot your words, thrusting into it as soon as she finished going all the way down your shaft. Doona just watched as your cock bulged under her belly, and Zuha took some time to relax, passionately kissing you.
"Wow, that's such a perfect cock," Doona said in between moans, caressing your balls as you pound her. "Keep going, that's so good," she continued, slowly losing her breath as your manhood made her pussy burn. And things were about to get even better, with Kazuha sitting her fat ass in your face and offering her pounded pussy for you to lick.
Doona took advantage of your distraction with Kazuha and started bouncing on your cock. You spanked and grabbed her pale, bouncy ass, which moved perfectly on your dick. "That's it," you told her in between more slaps, as her ass jiggled each time it went down, while Kazuha buried your face completely with her big ass.
To avoid their bouncy asses leading you to cum too early, you decided to cut their fun, putting both girls on the kitchen's stools. You stripped Kazuha fully naked, matching her with Doona. She sat her fat ass on the stool and opened her long legs for you to penetrate her again under Doona's watchful eye, quickly increasing the pace and making her struggle with your cock deep in her cunt, with Kazuha fingering herself and having Doona lick one of her feet as her pussy got pounded harder and harder.
"I'm gonna cum baby, ahhhh," Kazuha said in a cute manner, driving you feral as you hit the perfect spots in her pussy. Doona just watched in awe. It wasn't the first time she saw one of her threesome partners get leveled like that, but with just a stool as a support it might have been. Next time her best friend Nana comes to town, she'll make sure both try it.
Kazuha cums as you fuck her like an animal. It's now Doona's turn, and she can't wait, opening her legs as soon as you turn your attention to her. You rub your cock against her pussy and then kiss it, worshipping it like you are about to fuck a goddess, all that while Doona gives you a sexy stare.
Doona drops her head down as your cock has a difficult time getting deep in her pussy. She's really too tight for you to handle, leading you to take it slow, more so as her pussy-fingering makes her walls clench even further. You and Kazuha share kisses as you try to get deeper into Doona's pussy. "Does that feel good?" your crush asks. "It feels amazing," you answer her.
"Your pussy is so good," you tell Doona, rising up to the task of giving it the fucking it deserves. "Then fuck it like your life depends on it," Doona says, slowly riding herself into an orgasm as you increase your pace. You just decide to carry her once again, taking her to your bedroom as Kazuha walks alongside you.
You drop Doona into your bed and passionately fuck her under Kazuha's watch. The young girl seems to be enjoying watching it as she masturbates herself, but also feels a little jealous by all the love you start giving to Doona, kissing her and whispering words in her ear as if you're ready to get out of this bed and marry her the next day.
Kazuha fingers her pussy harder as you fuck Doona in a hot missionary love-making position. The older woman moans beautifully. She never told you about her job, but you wonder if she might be a singer because her moans are truly music to your ears. "Yes, keep going, ahhhh, ahhhhh," she moans as the bed starts creaking with your hard but very passionate pumps. Doona closes her eyes and just lets your cock stretch her pussy out, putting her under your complete submission as your balls smack agains her pale skin.
You bring Kazuha next as she smiles. Doona comes closer and watches you tell your crush what you did to her, all that while you bring Doona's body closer to the scene to eat her goddess-like pussy while you fuck Kazuha's and turn the younger girl into a submissive moaning mess, ruthelessly pounding her babyhole on a hardcore mating press under Doona's watch.
Doona turns around and gets herself on all fours, putting her ass close to your face and offering you both her fuckholes to lick while you stay fucking Kazuha. You happily seize the opportunity, matching your thrusting against your personal fucktoy Kazuha with the lickings you give to Doona's pussy and asshole.
Kazuha keeps getting pounded hard as you feel like you need to quell her jealousy over your latest round with Doona. These two girls are at the mercy of your cock, but you're also at their mercy, knowing that you need to show them a lot of love and fuck them good if you want to keep a good relationship with both.
After 10 long minutes of lovemaking with Zuha, you bring her to clean your cock from her own mess. Doona comes from behind and starts licking your asshole. You truly didn't know such a cute girl like her could be nasty too. "Ohhhh fuck," you say as Kazuha throats your cock while Doona tongues deep in your anus at the same time and then reaches under to stoke your shaft and caress your balls. The girls stay that way for a long while, as Kazuha has a long way to go before cleaning your cock while Doona shows she's a nasty girl who loves dirty assholes.
"Both of you, bend over," you tell the girls. Doona's cutely shaped ass contrasts with Zuha's fit butt. You lick both their pussies, starting with Doona's. Zuha quickly drops down and gets her ass spanked. You eat them out like the two perfect godesses that they are and then go back to fuck Doona once again.
"Fuck your pussy is so tight, and it only gets tighter," you tell Doona, who looks at herself in the mirror as you fuck her and finger Zuha's pussy. "That's it, baby," you tell Doona, who looks at Kazuha and loves the way the youngster is smiling while she gets stuffed full of cock.
Doona gets railed harder, her moans getting louder, and her ass getting more and more spanked. You move into a prone-bone position while Zuha flips around and flashes you her pussy for you to keep sucking it while you bury your cock deep inside Doona. "Seems like he loves multitasking," Kazuha says as she caresses your head and moves it closer to her pussy, while Doona smiles, before it goes away and gets replaced by more moans as you attack her pussy with your cock and Zuha's with your mouth.
Each thrust you give Doona sends her closer and closer to the heavens as you use her pussy so hard she can barely feel her legs at this point, numb by the amount of cock she has taken inside of her. But you just don't seem to stop; her tight pink pussy is just too good, and so is Zuha's within your range for more fingering and licking. These girls are made to be worshipped and fucked, and you'll do it as long as you have the stamina.
"Let's switch girls, turn your pussy this way," you tell Zuha, repeating the same position you did to Doona, prone boning the young girl as you eat Doona out. Kazuha seems to struggle hard, as you attack her cunt even harder when you do Doona's, testing her to the maximum. She moves her hips and meets your thrusts halfway, using her big ass like a pillow to dissipate the impact of your cock in her pussy, but you quickly tame the good girl and take control of her, enjoying the wet and clapping sounds coming out of her cunt every time you reach the depths of each, with Doona fingering herself heavily entertained with the scene and enjoying the way, and you obliterate Zuha's pussy nonstop in a perfect rhythm.
Kazuha quickly starts to tap out, and you show endless strength to pound her while giving sexy stares to Doona. Her ass gets spanked, and she gets weaker and weaker to resist your endless fucking. "Don't move, stay right there," you tell as she can't barely move. Meanwhile, you flip Doona around and get ready for another round of passionate lovemaking, all that while you and Zuha kiss each other, and she looks at Doona being pounded and smiles, watching the older girl taste the same medicine she just did.
Doona receives some bed-breaking sex, wrapping her legs around you as you just can't stop fucking her. Indeed, her pussy is like a drug to you now. You seem to have finally unleashed your inner beast and seize the opportunity of taking these two fuckdolls to the fullest. Your thursts are now so fast and powerful Doona can't even react, just cumming all over your cock as you plow into her on an animalesque mating press that makes her reach multiple orgasms for the first time in many years, your balls making loud clapping noises against her cheeks while the bed's creaking gets even louder.
You switch from Doona to Zuha, sticking your cock in your crush's pussy as it disappears right under her big ass. Doona takes a deep breath and masturbates herself watching you drill your crush. Kazuha struggles, already overwhelmed by taking so much cock over the past 40 minutes. But you just don't stop, entertaining Doona as you mount completely on top of Zuha and clap her cheeks hard, putting Zuha at total submission and smashing her cunt harder and harder.
Zuha can only helplessly moan as you absolutely show no mercy to her pussy, turning her into your personal fleshlight and asserting your dominance over her under Doona's watch. It doesn't take long until you fill your crush's pussy to the brim, pushing your seeds all the way deep into Kazuha's tight young hole. 
"OH FUCK!" you scream as you pull out of Zuha's pussy and open it up for Doona to lick your cum oozing out from it. "Shake that ass and show me how much you loved getting filled with my cum" you tell Kazuha, who smiles and happily does it. After they swap your seeds with each other, you kiss both girls and thank them for the night. "Did you two have fun?" you ask. "Definitely," Doona replies. "You fucked me so good," Kazuha then said. "I had a lot of fun too, we need to do that again," you say as the girls leave, Zuha back to her home and Doona back to her bedroom.
You wake up the next day and go to the kitchen, where you find Doona making breakfast while wearing nothing.
"What are you looking at?" she asks. "Have you never seen a naked woman before in your life? I'm pretty sure you saw two just yesterday," she continues. "Sorry, I felt a little embarrassed," you tell her.
"Embarassed from what? You just saw me like that yesterday," Doona giggled. "By the way, today is my birthday," she continued. "Then, happy birthday," you replied back.
"Not really; I need a gift only you can give me, and it's right between your legs," she tells you. "Well, I'm going back to my bedroom and will wait for you," Doona says.
You hesitate a bit, but after a few minutes, find your way into Doona's bedroom. She wraps herself in her blanket, pretending to be sleeping. You take a peek through it, right where her pussy is lying, fully shaved and waiting for you to fuck it again.
You run your hands through Doona's vagina, but she remains asleep; she truly must be a good actress to not feel anything from your touch. You take it slow, playing with your hands alongside her mound. You then take the upper part of her blanket and stare at her hardened, pierced nipples. Her body is truly perfect, but her face is even more beautiful. Unable to resist your perversions, you touch her breasts, but she remains unfazed.
You look at Doona's fully naked body lying in bed with awe, uncovering it completely, and running your hands in her ass now. She reacts and turns sideways, but still doesn't say a word. You place your thumb right at her butt crack and admire her pale ass, spreading it a bit to take a glimpse at her pink anus, then touching her pussy lips.
"Hey, Doona, hey, come on," you start calling for her, growing tired of her little sleeping beauty game. "Wake up, your gift is here, birthday girl," you tell her. "I'm so sleepy," she says to you. "Well, you can stay asleep while I play with you," you tell her.
You place your thumb right in Doona's pink butthole. "Wanna fuck it today?" she asks, as you then move it into her mouth for her to taste. "It's so dirty," she says. "But if you want to wake me up, you better give me some cock," Doona tells you.
"Looks like I have awakened the beauty as soon as we started talking about cock," you say, lying in Doona's bed. She smiles and crawls in your direction, going right at your pants. "What are you doing?" you ask her as she gets on top of you and starts rubbing her hands against your clothed manhood.
Doona teases you as she slowly rubs her clit lying in her bed. You come close to watch her performance, as then she uses her middle finger to shove it in her cunt. "Keep doing that; I love the way you touch yourself," you tell Doona, as you also give her boobs a little groping.
You choke Doona as she keeps masturbating herself. "You're such a fucking birthday slut," you tell her, giving her beautiful face a slap. "Look what you made me do yesterday; we and Kazuha weren't even planning to start dating yet; you made me cum deep in her pussy," you tell Doona.
"I didn't make you do anything; you're just a horny young boy who thinks with your cock. Which she was already sucking by the time I arrived. Right, Mr. . Won Jun?" Doona tells you the hard truth.
But you don't want to hear what she has to say and just keep slapping her model-esque face. She smiles every time you hit it. Maybe she's really taking some good acting classes, because you slap it hard yet she barely flinches.
"What do you do for your life, Doona?" you ask her. "Well, I was a singer for many years, but these days I want to be an actress," she answers, confirming your suspicions from the past couple days. "Then why did you move to a student flat?" you keep inquiring her. "Well, I didn't want the media to notice it," she says.
Then you ask her yet another question.
"Is Doona even your real name?"
"You searched who I was. That's funny because I was in your t-shirt all along and you didn't recognize me," Suzy answers.
"Well you looked a little different with bangs. So you are indeed the Bae Suzy, Korea's most beautiful face," you say to her.
"And by the way, you fucked me yesterday; I'm also Korea's tastiest pussy," she says, bragging about it.
"By the time I'm done with you, you'll also be Korea's biggest whore," you tell her.
"Maybe I'm already that," she says.
You take your pants off and feed your beautiful big cock to Suzy, who sucks it masterfully from the beginning. Her blowjob is very slow, but she knows where to suck and where to stroke at the right places. She then goes all the way down and gives you an amazing deepthroat. "THAT'S IT, YOU BAD GIRL!" you tell her as you sit on the bed, and she immediately crawls to rim your ass and put your balls in her mouth.
"Shit, you're such a fucking whore," you tell Suzy. "Yes, I am, and I love licking your balls and your dirty asshole," she says, entertaining herself with them. In fact, she's so good massaging your prostate you have to spank her ass to ask her to stop before she drives you insane.
You keep spanking Suzy's butt with your feet as she keeps her mouth now glued to your balls. You then stroke your cock and crush her sexy face between your legs, slapping your shaft against it before you free her to do what she pleases with it, as Suzh sucks and licks it like a maniac and makes your curse endlessly, then follows it with a couple more deepthroats.
"Get down, bitch," you say as you position Suzy's face in the perfect angle to start thrusting against it. "YEAH, THAT'S IT, BITCH," you tell her, using her pretty face to your pleasure, even sitting on top of it for her to lick your ass again, burying it full of cock. 
Suzy then turns around and puts her ass up, leading you to spank it even harder. "OH YEAH, OH MY GOD," she screams as your hands hit it heavily multiple times and then places your thumb in her anus. "Open it, bitch, I want to see that fucking asshole," she says as her ass crack closes between your hands.
Suzy quickly flips herself around and guides your cock into her pussy. "Oh my God, what a birthday gift for me," she says as it slowly makes its way inside her hole. You quickly pump it hard, just like yesterday, as she fingers her clit. "I want you to take this big cock all the way in," she begs.
You're in full control, pouding Suzy's cunt at will as she stays lying on the bed while you are on your feet, taking her from above. "It's so big, and it's stretching my pussy so fucking good, yeah," Suzy says as you slow down, grab her neck, and reassert your dominance over her.
"I want you to be an obedient good girl for my cock," you tell her, slapping Suzy once again. "OH YEAH," she answers as you pick the pace back up, now spanking her boobs as you thrust into her cunt. "Damn, that pussy gets even wetter when I smack your slutty body," you tell her.
"Tell me I'm your fucking whore; do whatever you want to me, as long as you give me that fucking cock," Suzy begs as you keep pounding her. "I love being slapped like that; please, baby, use me," she continues as she rubs her pussy and slowly starts cumming, closing her legs and eyes, and having herself a heavenly orgasm.
But you don't want Suzy to have that much fun already, switching positions to a hard spooning where you pound her hard while groping her bouncy tits. "That's what I want; use me like a fucking whore, choke me, and give me that birthday fucking I deserve," she tells you.
"OH MY GOD, YOU FUCK ME LIKE AN ANIMAL," Suzy moans as you attack her pussy even harder. You had already done that yesterday but in a more passionate manner; today, you'll be rough and use her like a bitch; after all, out of the 365 or 366 days of the year, only today is the birthday of the Bae Suzy, the it girl of all it girls.
"COME ON, BITCH, YOU'RE SUCH A BAD GIRL," you say as you pound Suzy and slap her back for a bit. You then stop and let her taste herself on your cock. "Stroke it, you fucking cunt," you tell her, lying on the bed as you let her have fun with your throbbing shaft and spit on it while using your feet to choke her and make it harder for Suzy. She gets more animalesque, getting out of it and giving you a sloppy blowjob. "OH FUCK," you groan as your cock reaches the depths of her throat.
Suzy climbs on top of you and impales your massive cock back in her cunt, bouncing on it as she says dirty words to you. "Look how I ride this big fucking cock; I'm such a bad girl," she tells you.
You quickly put an end to Suzy's fun, pumping your cock upwards against her cunt and hitting her cervix. "Oh my God," she moans, but quickly regains control. You keep slapping her tits, trying to make her lose her cool, but Suzy stays composed and just smashes your cock like the good whore she is. 
"That's the way," you praise Suzy's riding skills as she now slowly grinds on your shaft. "It's so fucking good," she says as she enjoys it reaching the depths of her pussy, bouncing on it while licking your right foot. "You're such a whore, your sucking it like they are another dick, such a good girl," you tell Suzy, who puts all your toes in her mouth and keeps bouncing on your cock with ease regardless.
"That pussy is so wet," you tell Suzy as she stays using it to crush your cock. "And your cock feels so good in it, it's gonna make me cum again," she replies, rolling her eyes and enjoying it to the fullest.
You grab Suzy's neck as soon as she finishes her orgasm, but she grabs your shaft in retribution and strokes it mastefully. You punch back, hitting her in the face once more as you two duel to see who's the most animalesque person in that bed.
You get on top of Suzy and stick your cock from behind in her pussy. "I'm just your fucking slut," she says as you kiss her and she feels your shaft going back inside her. But she had stroked you so hard you were already throbbing, to the point that after just a few thrusts you were already on the edge. You pull her hair and use her like a fuckdoll, showing no restraint whatsoever. 
"Spread that ass; I'm gonna plow that fucking pussy until I cum inside it," you vow as you also penetrate Suzy's asshole with your thumb. "God, it's so fucking wet," you add. "Do it please, cum in my pussy just like you did to your girlfriend yesterday," Suzy demands.
Your thrusts come to a halt as you explode inside Suzy's perfect pussy. But you are far from done. In this morning, Suzy will be nothing but your cum dump, as you don't even let her taste the cum that flows out of her pussy, quickly turning her sideways and kissing her while slowly shoving your cock in the second prize of the day, her butthole.
"Ahhhh," Suzy moans as your big cock stretches her tiny anus. "You know, your girlfriend has a great ass; you could use some training with me to fuck hers next," Suzy tells you. "She's not my girlfriend," you argue with her. "Why, am I your girlfriend now, you cheater?" she asks.
"No, you're just a whore, and in a few minutes you'll literally be a sore ass whore," you tell her. But you started rather gently, seeing that her tight asshole won't give up easily, trying to get accostummed to an even tighter hole than her already tight pussy.
Suzy fingers herself, and you two keep sharing kisses as your cock slowly digs deeper in her asshole. You wrap your arms around her and start giving her butt a couple pumps, kissing her in the meantime. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO BIG IN MY ASS," she tells you.
Suzy struggles with your cock in her ass; it's been a long time since she's been fucked in the butt, but you manage to slowly ease her into it, going very slowly and passionately wrapping her around your arms. She moans as you put more and more heat inside it. "Fuck, it's so big," is all she can say. You finally give her harder pumps, trying to make her adjust through the pain. She screams, but you just don't care and cover her mouth. "Shut up, you fucking whore," you say to her, relentlessly pounding her butthole.
"I love that," Suzy says. Sometimes, pain is the best way to reach a goal, and she confirms it. You keep going, kisses at the top, poundings at the bottom. You make her tits jiggle and bring her to submission, thrusting as hard as you can in that whore. But you can also be kind and slow down to kiss her from time to time.
Suzy sits on your cock and tries to ride it anally, but you don't let her, pounding her ass as soon as she attempts to make a move. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she screams, fingering her pussy to cope with the heat you put in her ass, squirting a bit.
But you're so controlling you don't even let Suzy do it, placing your own hands in her cunt while manhandling her butt. "GOD, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME FUCKING CUM AGAIN, FUCKKKKKKK,"  Suzy screams while sirens of a police car pass through the street, making her get quiet for a bit to not get noticed before going back to plead to God at each pump you give her ass.
"OH FUCKKKKKK!" Suzy screams again as you pull out of her and let her taste her butthole; she seizes the opportunity and sucks your cock like a maniac. "Lick my ass again," you tell her, who quickly obliges and then moves up to your balls and later your whole shaft, showcasing her cock-addicted spirit.
"God damn it, Suzy, you really know how to lick a man's ass," you tell her. "And I know how to suck a man's big fat cock even better," she says, moving up and giving you yet another deepthroat, which you make sure to last as long as possible, putting your legs over her head and pushing it to your shaft, with Suzy only pulling out when she's completely out of air.
Suzy twists your pole and throats your shaft hard, quickly recovering. "Damn, this fucking cock is so good; this is the best birthday ever," she tells you before going on another deepthroat. "You could make it better by giving me that asshole once again and sitting on it," you reply.
Suzy obliges and quickly moves to get on top of you. "Oh fuck," she says, rolling her eyes as your massive pole impales her butthole. She takes it slow, baffled with how huge your cock is. Slowly increasing the pace, she put her fingers in her pussy and used them to fuck herself. Finally finding the rytym, Suzy rides it as hard as she can.
"Keep going, baby, come on," you give Suzy words of incentive, and they work, her riding your cock perfectly and at full speed now. "That's how you do it, good girl, or should I say, bad girl?" you tell her as her hips hit yours and you love it. "Don't stop, baby; bounce on that cock like the fucking whore you are," you tell her.
Suzy giggles as she squirts on your face. "You made my pussy cum from my asshole," she says with a big smile in her face, burying your cock in her ass and staying with it inside her. The fucking was very intense, so she had to take a needed break, so you just pull out and let her suck it once more, letting Suzy show how crazy she is for cock, stroking your shaft in a way that almost snaps it in half while enjoying your big balls and dirty butthole.
"Let me see that asshole," you ask of Suzy, who turns around and spreads her butt open for you to see the work your cock did on it. But it was all an excuse to shove your cock in it while getting a perfect view of her behind. 
"Sit all the way down," you tell Suzy. She does it as you please, pushing your full pole in it. "Move it slowly up and down; let me see my length going in and out of your ass," you tell Suzy, who does it very slowly. "That's perfect, very slow, just like I want it," you tell her. Suzy's slow bounces and her moans over your massive cock impaling her push you to the edge once again. "Like that, like that, keep moving slowly," you tell her.
Suzy bounces faster as you give her butt a few spanks and order her to do so, getting you even closer to cumming again. You can no longer resist the urge; her bounces are getting you out of breath. You soon take control, getting on the edge of the bed and putting Suzy on all fours and fucking her asshole at full speed, giving her hard spanks until you finally cum inside it.
It seems for a moment that's going to be it for the morning. As your cum oozes out of Suzy's butthole, you are now feeling exhausted, and Suzy heads to the shower. You stand idle in the bed for a few minutes, just hearing the noises coming from the bathroom and unable to get yourself hard again after such a long good fucking and two ball-draining cumshots inside Suzy's tight fuckholes.
But as soon as you decide to check on Suzy in the shower, that immediately changes. Her naked body looks even sexier while covered in water, and it gives you an instant boner. You look at her recently fucked ass, her washing your cum that's still all over it. She gives you that perfect smile, turning around as you give her some soap to pour over her body, the white foam covering her fuckholes, making them very enticing.
Suzy spreads her pussy lips and washes them with a lot of soap. She also uses a natural cleaner, as lots of pee comes out of it to help wash her cum-filled cunt. She also pours a lot of soap on her boobs, leading to a lot of foam covering them, before washing them away. Seeing your cock get hard once again, Suzy grabs it and strokes your shaft in the masterful way she always does. "It's so dirty after such a long time in my ass; let me help clean it," she says.
After lots of stroking, finally feeling your cock is truly clean, Suzy turns around, gets off the shower, and guides it for one final time in her pussy. She takes it deep, wiggling her ass and bouncing on it sensually while holding her hands against the shower's support. You stay passive for a bit, just letting her do the work, until a feeling of guilt starts coming into your head.
You start thinking of Kazuha. The good girl you had worked so hard to get a date and even managed to have sex with her in it, who must be chilling at her home now unaware that you are fucking the older, sluttier clone of her. Every time Suzy bounces her cunt all the way down her cock, you get madder at her for being such a good whore that she leads to you having second thoughts about Zuha. For being such a bad girl.
You grab Suzy by her neck once again and take her out of the shower. You are now determined to punish this slut on her birthday for being such a wrecking force of nature. For undermining your relationship. For pushing you towards doing the naughtiest things in bed. You take her across the bathroom, hitting her beautiful face multiple times until you shove it down the toilet.
But that only makes Suzy get sluttier. She puts her tongue out and invites the challenge as you stick your cock in her pussy once more. You flush the toilet, but she stays unfazed, pushing you to fuck her as hard as you can. "Fuck me just like that," she demands. "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU SHITTY WHORE," you answer, yelling at her.
"Take that fucking cock, stupid whore," you tell Suzy. Now you don't care which hole you're fucking. Pussy, anus, it doesn't matter, as long as you stick your cock hard and deep inside Suzy and show her who the boss is. You hammer her like a lifeless sex doll, flushing the toilet multiple times to teach her a lesson. "OH FUCKKKKKK," she screams, but with a laugh in her face and an animalesque drive that quickly rises up as you get more and more insane.
Suzy crawls on all fours as you finish fucking her in the toilet, screaming like a horny demon as she chases you over the bathroom. You pin her to the glass of the shower box and fuck her face, making her drool in saliva that drops down her chin. Your cock is throbbing so hard for that bitch that you quickly have to pull out, jerking your cock off as you prepare to unload in her face. "I want all that cum in my fucking throat, every single drop of it," she says in an inviting fashion.
And what a load it was. It may have been the third of the day, but it was by far the fattest, covering Suzy's face and mouth and painting the whole glass behind her in white. Twelve shots of milky white cream for this whore on her birthday, glazing her face. Suzy is so hungry she immediately licks your cum out of the glass, fulfilling her promise of swallowing every single drop, making bubbles with it in her mouth.
"It tastes so fucking good," she tells you. "That was a good way to wake up," you tell her. Suzy gets back to bed as you admire her body—the way she's a perfect cum dump, smelling like every single body fluid and looking like a total slut.
"Is this better than the breakfast you were eating in the kitchen? I bet it has a lot more protein," you tell her. "For sure," Suzy answers, giggling to you. Both of you stay in bed for a bit, her winking your anus and praising you for giving her such a great birthday gift, until you say a couple of words that provide the perfect ending.
"I need to pee."
"Then pee on me," Suzy says. "Let's go to the shower once again," you tell her. Suzy kneels on the shower's tile, and your cock bursts the yellow liquid all over her mouth, with her easily swallowing more of it, smiling at you once you're done turning her into an urinal.
"I think I'm gonna take a walk after this, smelling like piss and cum," Suzy says. "Also, don't you have classes this morning?" she asked.
"Damn, you're right," you tell her.
"I'll be waiting tonight, and don't forget to bring Kazuha."
PS: I almost canceled this fic, but given I had written most of it, in spite of my tight schedule, I decided to make an effort to publish it on Suzy's 30th birthday, as she has always been one of my favorites and is one of the most legendary female idols to ever live. Hope you guys enjoy the story, the refences to Doona, one of the dramas she starred on, the threesome with her lookalike Kazuha and her going full bad girl for a morning sex session.
Happy Suzy Day!
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st4rg8te · 4 months ago
Text
Twisted Affections (GL) (P. 1)
Yandere! Emperor's Mistress X Empress! Reader
✦✧✦✧
The lessons that had been instilled in you since birth resurfaced in your mind: ‘The Mother of the Nation should be dignified, elegant, and composed. She should never show any sign of weakness in front of her subjects.’ 
But you couldn’t help but break in her embrace.
✦✧✦✧
P. 2: x
[tw: adultery, s*xism, slight description of blood/injury]
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Your marriage with your husband—the Emperor, was a cold and loveless one, devoid of any warmth or affection. 
The two of you were betrothed to each other at a young age for the sake of politics. You were the daughter of an influential duke, while he was the heir to the throne. To the gaze of others, it had seemed like the perfect match. 
You had once thought the same. Hoping that the differences between the two of you would find a resolution in the arrangement, but that wish gradually withered away, unfulfilled. 
What could you do but silently endure the circumstances you were placed in? Until now, you had always maintained the perfect facade expected of an Empress.
As the years passed, the weight of responsibility overshadowed the absence of love in your marriage, settling deep within you as resigned acceptance.
But deep down, a small, naive part of you still wished for a happy ending with your prince charming, like in all those fairy tales your mother had once read to you before she died.
Your parents’ marriage had also been an arranged one, but as a little girl, you remembered the way your father would look at your mother as if she had hung all the stars in the sky. Perhaps one day, your husband would look at you in the same way?
It was simply too bad that this small hope of yours had been mercilessly crushed the moment your husband brought her home.
The sight of them together made your stomach twist into knots, and your words were caught in your throat. You felt your hands tremble as you clutched the silky fabric of your gown, trying to maintain a steady composure.
She was beautiful, with flowing blond locks and bright blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight filtering through her delicate skin.  Although dressed in a simple gown that marked her status as a commoner, she exuded the grace and elegance of a noble princess.
A faint smile played on her lips as she laughed lightly with your husband, and he returned her smile with an equally warm one.
Why had he never smiled at you like that before?
“Her Majesty has arrived!” announced the servant behind you, and only then, did the lovers part.
Your eyes met bright baby blue ones. Her face lit up with excitement and delight as she took several steps toward you before stopping abruptly, realizing she was in front of the Emperor's wife.
Her eyes widened, and she immediately fell into a curtsy. Her dress rustled softly as her head dipped lower, revealing the graceful lines of her neck and arms.
The action made your lips twitch.
"G-greetings, Your Majesty! I've been looking forward to meeting you." Her voice held a slight tremor as she spoke.
She seemed younger than you, an edge of innocence that stirred people's protectiveness under her words—it served as another bitter reminder that the man you married did not belong to you.
You ignored her gaze boring into you; instead, turning your eyes back to your husband.
Your tone was icy, "What is this?"
"Lucia is going to live at the palace." He replied smoothly.
A hazy sense of familiarity washed over you once you heard her name come out of his mouth, but that was quickly forgotten with his next words:
"I intend to make her my concubine."
"What?" Your breath hitched sharply. "Why was I not informed of this sooner?"
He furrowed his brows in disapproval, "I do not need to explain my decisions to you. Do not get ahead of yourself."
"Have you not thought about what others would think—"
"Is that all you worry about?”
“Excuse me?”
“You have failed in your duty as my wife, for four years, you have not bore me a single child. It was about time someone else took care of it."
The harshness of his words cut through you like a blade, leaving you momentarily speechless. He continued, unperturbed by your silence, "My decision is final. I expect you, as the Empress, to give her suitable accommodations and see that she gets properly educated and trained."
You suddenly felt the urge to laugh, a humorless scoff ripping from your mouth as a cold fury burned within you. Shaky fingers curled tightly against your palm until it drew blood.
Your voice was hollow.
"I have important matters to attend to. Enjoy your stay, Lady Lucia."
Without waiting for an answer, you turned on your heel and strode out the grand corridors. The entourage of servants silently trailing behind you.
The sound of thundering steps echoed throughout the halls, but you had never felt as lonely as you did in that moment.
✦✧✦✧
Soon, word had spread quickly of Lucia's arrival as the Emperor's new concubine.
Even your family had heard the news. You were quickly met with a wrathful letter from the Duke, shaming you for losing to another woman—a commoner, no less.
For days, you had remained alone in your chambers. Rereading the scathing remarks written on the crumpled letter over and over again. Your father’s scorn a heavy burden on your already weary shoulders.
But what could you do? The Emperor's actions were beyond your control. It wasn't unheard of for a monarch to take lovers, and in some ways, even expected.
And the task of ignoring the jeers and taunts behind your back was becoming increasingly harder. In order to distract yourself, you began to drown yourself in the your duties.
"—They say Her Majesty is infertile. If that's true then here's no doubt about it; she'll be replaced by that new girl soon."
"—She's growing older each day, but there is still no sign of a child being conceived. Of course His Majesty would become tired of her."
"Poor thing."
Humiliation coiled in your gut like a snake. Behind you, your personal maid, Mary, spoke up, her voice filled with indignation on your behalf.
"Your Majesty, I'll go teach them a lesson—"
"No need," You replied, with a composed exterior, you continued walking. "Let's go."
As your husband had requested, you provided Lucia with everything he had asked for: servants, new gowns, jewelry, and suitable living quarters (which you ensured were as far away as possible from your residence). The lavish gifts and living space were more than generous, a testament to your patience.
You had also ensured that her presence would be kept minimally invasive to your daily life. Hopefully, the only times you would encounter her were on formal occasions, and nothing else.
At least that was what you had wished for, but it seemed that fate had a cruel way of playing tricks on mortals.
From the corner of your eye, a hint of blonde hair caught your attention. You halted in your steps as Lucia's face came into view, accompanied by a small group of her attendants.
‘Why was she here?’
The sight was enough to put you on edge; the last person you wanted to see right now was your husband's mistress.
She wore a delighted expression on her face as the group made their way toward you, "Your Majesty! I've been looking for you.”
Before you could respond, Mary stepped forward and quickly curtsied before the blonde woman, a hint of unfriendliness in her tone:
"Lady Lucia, how can we help you?"
An indiscernible emotion flashed across Lucia's eyes before she smiled again.
"I wanted to thank Her Majesty for all the help she has given me, and was going to invite her for tea."
Was she testing your patience on purpose? You couldn't believe your ears.
"Her Majesty has important business to attend to. Perhaps we could arrange another time." Mary suggested firmly. 
But the blonde woman ignored Mary’s words, and turned her expectant gaze towards you instead. You remained composed, offering Lucia a polite smile that did not quite reach your eyes.
"I appreciate the kind gesture, Lady Lucia. But perhaps another time.”
Lucia's smile faltered, and she slowly nodded her head, "I see... I'm sorry if I'm bothering you,"
You made a mental note to instruct the guards later not to let her wander around freely anymore. Seeing her every day would likely ruin your mood even more.
"—But,"
Shocked gasps rose from the attendants around you.
“My lady!”
Lucia paused, then her delicate fingers lifted the hem of her gown to reveal the crimson-stained slippers underneath. The blood had seeped through, staining her pristine white stockings a dark, ominous shade of red.
Your eyes widened in shock. Unaccustomed to the sight of blood, the gory display was enough to send shudders down your spine.
"Lady Lucia... What is the meaning of this?" You demanded, your voice trembling slightly as an unsettling feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach.
Lucia's eyes were wide, and her lips curved up into a serene smile, "It wouldn't hurt Her Majesty to join us this once."
Her voice rang out, sickeningly sweet:
"I only wish to repay you. It would be a shame for His Majesty to hear about his beloved concubine getting injured in the Empress' own quarters. Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"
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hiraya-rawr · 2 years ago
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— oh and by the way im married (zhongli) .
synopsis !! zhongli neglects to inform his friends that he's married.
contains !! they/them reader but referred to as wife, comedic dialogue
Z H O N G L I
Perhaps it's the fact that you've been married for centuries that informing others didn't seem to be a priority for Zhongli.
It wasn't obvious either. He had his day job and you had yours. To regular couples, the amount of distance you two spend would be a little strange, but time is something you have in abundance so it didn't really matter when you spend a few days apart doing your day jobs.
It was Hutao who brought it up the on the evening's Lantern Rite dinner.
"Aiyaya, it seems like everybody alive and dead has a date for this year's lantern rite."
"Hahaha! And here we are celebrating a feast with new and old friends. It doesn't sound like much of a loss to me." Venti laugjs, pouring himself a drink that threatens to overflow from his hand.
"I'm not saying it's a loss, I'm simply wondering wouldn't some of you want to spend the night with a special someone?" She smirks, eyes scanning the group. Chongyun coughs into his cup as Xiao averts his gaze from the troublemaker.
"If you're asking for my opinion, I'd say everyone here is quite special to me," Lumine smiles warmly before glancing at the two archons and yaksha, "I'm sure there's still time for dating in the future. We're not that old."
"Well. . ." Hutao turns to Zhongli. He raises a brow, placing down his cup.
"May I ask why you're staring at me, Director Hu?"
"No reason~ It's just, as your boss, of course I'm a little bit concerned. Aren't you wasting your youth by not going out on dates, mister Zhongli? I'm sure there's a line of Liyuens who would love to–"
A burst of laughter comes from the green bard. "Oh, him? On a Lantern Rite date with someone else? (Name) would surely kill him."
"(Name)?" Everyone questions.
"Huh? He didn't tell you?" Venti tilts his head.
Zhongli coughs, "Ah. . . Please don't be concerned about my dating life, Director Hu. After all, I am already married."
Silence.
A cup drops.
Tea spills (literally).
Then,
"Married?!" The restaurant shakes as Hutao and Lumine jolt upright, hands slamming the table.
"Married." Zhongli confirms.
"What! For how long? When? What's their name? Why have you never–"
Zhongli hushes, trying to calm his boss from jumping over the table. His face dusts a light pink, perhaps embarrassed by the whole ordeal.
"For a few. . . years now. As you know, they're (Name). And as for why I never mentioned my wife. . ." He glances at the crowd, ". . . I simply forgot."
"You. . . forgot," Xingqiu slowly repeats.
"Yes, it seems I've forgotten to inform everyone. Then again, is it not obvious that I'm a married man?"
Chongyun covers his face in his hands, processing the whole ordeal, "Thinking back. . . mister Zhongli always had a domestic kind of aura. It seems so obvious now."
"Wait, wait, wait! How come I didn't know about this? We work together almost everyday! And why does Venti know! Didn't you two just met! Do you even have a ring?" Hutao interjects, flabbergasted as Zhongli and Venti freezes.
In truth, he does have a ring. One he carved himself made of only the most precious of jade and metal. It has rested under his glove for centuries—
Under his glove also hides his draconic arms, golden veins against dark brown, almost scale-like skin. Proof of a entity greater than human.
"Ehe. . . about that," Venti nervously looks away, "I've actually. . . met his wife before!" He covers up, voice laced with enthusiasm.
"Yes, yes, my wife is quite fond of Mondstadt's songs. They've frequently visited the nation before."
"And you don't come along?" Xiangling asks.
"I don't."
The group blinks.
"And what about the ring? I never see you wear a wedding ring." Hutao narrows her eyes.
"That's because I don't wear it." He answers bluntly.
". . . and you never introduced them to us because. . .?" Lumine questions.
"Because . . . I haven't had the time to?"
Hutao rests back on her chair, her eyes glazed in judgment, "No offense mister Zhongli, but you seem like a terrible husband. If you don't get your act straight, I'd say your marriage won't last."
His jaw drops. Venti laughs.
|| ko-fi support / character m.list ||
~ bonus ~
"Darling, am I a terrible husband?"
"No? What makes you think that?"
"No reason. Although I believe we should try dating publicly."
tumblr has been deleting my last paragraphs why
//for some reason tumblr has been deleting my last lines in drafts so i have to type this so my last sentences wont get deleted
"No reason. But perhaps it's about time I show you off to the public more."
ko-fi support | character m.list
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