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tuiccim · 2 months ago

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We're Gonna Burn

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen, Non/DubCon (because sex pollen), enemies to lovers.

Summary: When an exposure to a strange powder makes you feel as if you're burning to death, your only relief is in the person you hate the most.

A/N: Special thanks to my beta reader @whisperlullaby

We're Gonna Burn Masterlist

“What the hell was that, Barnes?” You practically yell as you push open the front door of the safe house you’d been directed to.

“I don’t know! I’ve never seen anything like it. God, the smell!” He shakes his head.

“It’s burned into my nostrils. All I can smell is that sweet flower smell. You’ve never seen that pink powder?” You throw your things to the floor, looking around the small, remote house.

“No, I’d tell you if I did, damnit! Why do you keep asking?” Bucky growls.

“You’re not the most forthcoming person! Shit, I think you’ve spoken more in the last two minutes than in the three months I’ve known you! Jesus, fuck, I’ve gotta get rid of this smell. I’m so fucking hot,” your voice gets smaller as you speak. You can’t think straight but head towards the bathroom, unzipping your tac suit and pulling it from your arms as you go. You slam the door and lock it. You turn the cold water on full blast and nearly fall over in your haste to get your suit off. The frigid spray helps for a few moments and you revel in it, but soon another type of heat begins to take over. Your clit throbs and when you place your hand between your legs, your wetness coats your fingers. The shower stops bringing relief and instead, the water coursing down your body seems to only make you hornier. You give in to the need that takes hold and circle your clit. It feels amazing and it takes only a couple of minutes for your orgasm to break over you. You bite your lip to hold in the moans, not wanting the asshat on the other side of the door to hear you.

Your body has a moment of relief but then the heat builds again, even quicker this time. You dip your fingers inside of you in a desperate attempt to stop it. The second orgasm you managed to pull did little to help your body and your fingers keep working furiously to bring another in hope of relief. Your moans are spilling from your lips without a care now. You just need to get this to stop. You’re disturbed when the door rattles and a fist bangs loudly.

“Open the door! I need to get in there,” Bucky bellows.

You wanted to scream at him to go away but you could barely form words. You hated the stupid supersoldier from the moment you met him. He questioned your every turn. Whether it was about your skill, experience, or motives. He never lets you get through a single conversation without making you feel like a lesser part of the team.

“Goddamnit, let me in!” He yells more loudly.

Nothing your hand was doing was helping any longer. You couldn’t think straight and, before you can make a move or form a thought, the door splinters open from a kick. A very naked Bucky comes through the door and your eyes widen as you see his cock standing at attention. He steps into the spray of the cold shower and growls. His hand works his cock furiously while his other rests on the tiles. His head falls forward as he lets the cold water fall down his back. You stand behind him, your hand still between your legs.

“Fuck, what’s happening to us?” you whimper as you lean your feverish forehead onto his back. The cool water does nothing to help but where your skin touches his tingles with relief. Abandoning all pride, you press your entire body to his and the fever seems to cool wherever you touch but your clit throbs even harder. Your cunt weeps, begging for attention.You rub yourself against him, your nipples pebbling at the contact with his back.

With a growl, Bucky turns around and you quickly back up to press your back against the wall of the shower. He stares at you, breathing hard.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble in your haze, “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m so hot and-”

You gasp as Bucky bends down, grabs your legs, and drags you up the tiles. You squeal and reach for any handhold as he puts your legs over his shoulders and attacks your clit with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” You scream as one hand lands on the ceiling to help you balance and the other buries in his hair. His tongue swirls over your clit expertly. His hands squeeze your ass as he gorges himself on you. It doesn’t take long for you to buck your hips as you come all over his face. As he sets you down, you squeeze your thighs together but your body simply screams that it wants more. You stare at each other, breathing heavily. “It’s not working. Nothing helps,” you whimper, tears forming. It’s obvious by watching him that this is affecting him almost as much as you. His supersoldier serum must be helping him but he was burning just the same.

Bucky sighs as he steps closer to you. He presses his forehead to yours with his eyes closed and whispers, “I think there’s only one thing that’s going to help.”

You put your arms around his neck, “Just do it!” You wrap a leg around his to encourage him and he lifts you up. He presses your back into the wall as he lines himself up with your entrance. He paused there for a second as if he was fighting himself. “Please, Barnes, please! I need it!” You can’t believe you’re begging the man you hate to fuck you but your body was demanding it and if he didn’t you were sure you would burn to death. If you had been thinking straight, you would probably prefer to burn but, at this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled.

“Goddamnit,” he whispers as he presses in. Your body bows with pleasure.

“Yes! Yes!” Your voice reverberates off the tile walls as you shout with relief. He begins to pump and your body trembles with each motion of his cock. He grabs your ass as he pounds into you and you know he’s as lost in the meeting of your bodies as you are. Your cunt flutters around him, pulling him in, begging for him to come inside of you. Your rational mind has gone completely silent and you are filled with only carnal lust. Every motion of his hips takes you higher and it’s all you want. “Don’t stop,” you grip his shoulders harder.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunts. He couldn’t stop if he wanted to and, truth was, this was the best thing he’d felt in a long time.

“Oh, God, oh, God, I’m- yes!” You release a long, high-pitched moan as you come. Your pussy grips his cock as his hips stutter. He comes with a long moan that makes you clench around him more firmly. You stay there for a few moments, catching your breath, and blessedly your body finally starts to cool. You release your legs from around his waist and he gently sets you down. You can’t look at him and instead maneuver yourself back under the cold spray. You rinse off quickly and step out of the shower. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you exit the bathroom to find your pack and some clothes. While you rifle through your pack, you feel your temperature creeping up again and then you double over from the intense wave that rolls over you. “No, no, not again,” you whisper to yourself. You look over to the broken bathroom door where Bucky still is and consider your options. Sex had given you the relief you needed but it was short lived. Your mind runs amuck with questions. What the hell was that powder? What was it doing to you? How long would this last? How many times would it take to stop this heat from trying to burn you alive? Was sex really the only relief you would find? Another pang hit and knocked the breath from your body. You were gasping in pain when an arm picked you up around your middle.

He was still wet from the shower and hadn’t bothered to dry off. The pains had hit him and he went to the only place he knew he could find relief. He carried you to the small bed in the house and set you down on your hands and knees. He grips your hips tightly and pauses for a moment as another rush of heat spreads over him, “I need-”

“Just do it,” your words come out in a rush, pressing back into him.

He enters you without preamble. Pulling you back to meet each motion of his hips, his moans give evidence of the pleasure and relief that the connection brings. You reach under you to play with your clit, trying to bring your orgasm on more quickly. Each of Bucky’s swift thrusts has you crying out with pleasure and he moves your hand away to bring you to orgasm himself. He wanted to feel you clench around him as you had before.

“Oh, fuck, just like that,” you whine, “Just like that, don’t- don’t stop, oh, fuck.”

Bucky moans as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock with your orgasm. The sounds you release are a hit straight to his cock and he comes hard, thrusting with each spurt into you. Breathing heavily, you both collapse on the bed. You lay on your side facing away from him while taking stock of your body. The relief you felt with your orgasm was short lived as heat began to build again after only a few minutes.

You feel like crying as your body radiates waves of heat. You turn over to face Bucky. He is lying on his back, his metal arm slung over his eyes, and his right hand fisting his hard cock. You make your decision quickly. Pulling his hand away, you straddle him and guide his cock inside of you. You move your hips slowly, hoping that perhaps if you stretched out the sex, it would keep the pain at bay longer. His hands grip your thighs as you rock slowly, his head is thrown back with eyes tightly closed. You looked at him for a moment and still couldn't believe that of all the teammates this could happen with, it had to be this asshole. When you first met him, you thought he was hot as fuck but as his personality (or lack there of) reared it’s ugly head you found him less and less attractive. Your anger at the situation grew as you rode him and you found yourself leaning forward, chasing your orgasm to just get this over with.

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky bucks up into you, causing you to cry out. He repeats the motion over and over again until your body spasms around him. He comes with a grunt as he watches your face contort with pleasure. You collapse on his chest without looking at him. You wondered if keeping your bodies connected would keep the heat from returning.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks softly.

You sigh weakly as you felt the now familiar warmth beginning to spread, “I was hoping…” You let out a frustrated grunt, “I was hoping if we stayed touching it would be enough. But it’s starting again.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Bucky acknowledges his own heat building. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t know that,” you grouse.

“I think… I think this might be a pheromone or something Hydra created to force procreation. I heard of the experiments but they abandoned it when it didn’t produce the results they wanted.”

“Which was?” You ask as your hips make slow circles. You can feel his cock quickly hardening inside of you.

“Naturally born supersoldiers,” Bucky strains out the words.

“So, we’re gonna have sex until we die or what?”

“Usually wore off in a few hours but until then…” he trails off as he gots lost in the sensations.

“Fuck,” you groan, partially out of frustration, partially from the pleasure his thick cock was producing.

“Basically,” Bucky says and you surprise yourself by laughing at the droll comment. You are even more surprised a second later when Bucky rolls you under him. He buries his face in your neck as he pulls your leg up higher and thrusts. You throw your head back as the pleasure begins to build again.

“Harder,” you whimper.

Bucky complies immediately and you whimper with each stroke. Grabbing onto him, you get lost in the feeling of his cock pounding into you sharply. You were glad that he at least was decent at this. Or was it that whatever the damn contaminant was made everything feel amazing? You were getting close with the steady way he fucked you and words started to pour out of your mouth. You were usually quite vocal in bed but hadn’t wanted to give Bucky the satisfaction. Now, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Oh, god, it’s so good. Don’t stop, right there. It’s so fucking good. Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna- fuck!” You let out a loud moan as you come hard and Bucky’s hips work even faster as he nears his own end. When he comes on a broken cry, your body revels in the feeling of him emptying himself in you.

The rational side of your brain sounded far away but was still screaming at the situation. In a moment of it managing to take hold, you push Bucky off of you and roll away from him. Breathing heavily, you pray that this is over. Surely, this was enough to satisfy anything. You will yourself to stay cool, to not allow the heat to return, to hold onto any shred of sanity you can find, but despite it all, the heat built again. You felt like screaming but you knew that nothing you did would help. You turn back to Bucky and say frustratedly, “Ready for another round?” You can’t meet his eyes but you knew neither of you could handle the pain and heat. You needed each other.

Bucky turns to you, “Hey.” He waits, wanting you to look him in the eyes but you just stare at his chest. “Hey.”

“What?” You say waspishly, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“Never mind,” he says as he grabs you and pulls your back against his chest. His cock nudges you from behind and you maneuver your hips to allow him entry. His thrusts are quick and sharp but his fingers on your clit are pure magic. He’s learned your body quickly but instead of leading you straight to orgasm this time, he works you to the precipice and then backs off repeatedly. You understood what he was trying to do. He was trying to prolong the sex in hopes of not having to come inside you any more than he already had but it was as if your body only got angrier with each denial.

“It’s not working! Just let me come!” You finally cry out, your frustration having reached its breaking point.

“Say it,” Bucky growls.

You wrack your muddled brain trying to grasp what he wants and latch on to the only word you can find, “Please!”

“No, say my name.”

You would normally reel angrily at a command from him but the effects this powder had on you makes you compliant from need. You stutter as your tongue tries to cooperate, “B- Barnes.”

“No,” he says darkly, “Say it.”

“Bucky,” you grind the word out through your teeth. You had never once called him that. It had always been some variant of his last name. You felt even more vulnerable now.

Bucky doesn’t utter a word but he moves his hips faster and his fingers do their job. When you finally come, your whole body spasms and you scream. The sound was foreign to your ears but the orgasm just kept going. You fluttered around Bucky’s cock, milking him of cum. You stay in that position for the next two rounds of sex. Then you got on top again to give Bucky a break but this time you faced away from him. You couldn’t look at him. When you had rode him to two orgasms and yourself to utter exhaustion, he turned you on your stomach to fuck you again. You lost count of the number of times you had sex. More orgasms than you’d ever had in your life were accomplished and you didn’t have any clue how many times he came. You fucked until you both passed out.

Waking up fourteen hours later, you felt as if you had the worst hangover you’d ever experienced. You glance at the spot Bucky had been in but he was gone. On the table by the bed was a couple of bottles of water, a protein bar, and a bottle of pain reliever. You raised your eyebrow at the items but just shrugged as you tore into all of them. You notice your pack is by the bed and you get up to put clothes on. The first thing you notice is the soreness between your legs but really your whole body hurts. You listen for a moment but don’t hear anything in the house. Peeking out the door, you see the empty living room and slip into the bathroom. You shower quickly, trying not to remember what happened in the small space just yesterday.

You jump when a knock sounds while you are dressing. You call out, “Yes?”

“Exfil will be here in five minutes,” Bucky says through the broken door.

“I’ll be right out,” you say. Your stomach is in knots. You can’t imagine facing him after everything. Would he act like nothing happened or gloat like the asshole he is? You wonder if you will ever be able to look him in the face again. You look at yourself, surprised that you still look the same as you did yesterday because you know you’ll never be the same again. But you didn’t have time to dwell on that. Now, you had a jet to catch.

Part 2

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

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smallvictorianchildwhofoundwifi · 12 days ago

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Guess who’s thinking about this again!

Also I reached the tag limit so just know there’s very gore ish stuff in there

Huh? Oh yeah yeah I'm fine I'm just thinking about the Sad Man's Parade appearing behind the Erasure group and throwing them into the concrete, constantly making more doubles and growing in mass, meaning that as they were falling on top of Eraserhead and Monoma, the ever-growing weight of doubles on top of them made them hit the ground even harder and definitely should've been enough to kill them but it didn't because the writers decide if they live or die and that's their only saving grace

#it’s just so insane to me #they should be DEAD. reasonably that should have KILLED them.#part of me really wishes we got to see their injuries. they don’t look that badly injured in the anime but we can make them WORSE #You have no idea the things I am thinking #the twice clones wanted to stop them because they are heroes but also because they were getting in the way of shigaraki #okay I’m about to talk gore so be careful #just just just the twice clones absolutely FUCKING TTHR #UP #monoma and manual getting brought down and Manuel’s got a bashed in forehead and a broken arm #nasty break it was absolutely on purpose. gotta break the heroes in any way they can right?#monoma has a severe depressed skull fracture #bloody sight and fukidashi and Kaminari are having to witness and deal with it #you know what? might fuck him up a bit more- crushed ribs #no mercy for these guys #they are actively bleeding out and dying and there’s no proper medical treatment for them bc no one expected this AT ALL #there’s no way to save them and the students just have to try their best to help the #them*#they are going to die. there is no denying that. these two are going to die in their arms and the best thing they can do is slow the process #fight back the tears and help as you feel their pulses slow. be a hero and extend their lives even if it’s ten measly minutes #you wanted to be a hero? now you know what it’s like. now you get to experience what it’s #like to fail as one and have someone die in front of you #you can try to help but the suffocating tie you’ll be wearing to their funeral is distracting you #as you comfort their limp bodies with your arm you question what color flowers you should give them. anything but red should be fine. you’ve #seen enough of that color #what will you say to their coffin lid? no one can stand to have it open because they’re too disfigured to look at #say your last goodbye while they can still hear you because they will not live to see the stars at midnight #woah guys #went kinda crazy there sorry #tw gore description #gore description

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rafesangelita · 3 months ago

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kook!sweetheart!reader participating in a charity car wash and rafe is there as her big manly body guard to scare off anyone who ogles her in her tiny bikini >.<

warnings: jealous!rafe, john b & jj & pope make an appearance lol, a littleee bit of an altercation

rafe wasn’t happy about this. at all.

“oh, how generous of you!” you took the hundred dollar bill from one of the regulars at the country club, blowing him a kiss as he rode away in his sparkling clean car. “was the kiss really necessary?” rafe grumbled, pulling you against his sun tanned skin. you giggled, your hand coming up to stroke the side of his face. “yes. maybe then he’ll tell his golf buddies to come down here and empty their wallets too.”

sensing your boyfriend’s distress, you turned around in his hold. “hey..” you cupped his cheeks, “we only have to be out here for one more hour, okay? think you could hold out from punching someone in the face?” rafe laughed, both of his hands squeezing your ass as he pulled you in for a kiss. hearing it before you felt it, you yelped when rafe slapped the globes of your butt.

“you’re terrible!” you pushed him away playfully, both of you watching as none other than the twinkie pull into the country club’s parking lot. “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” rafe was quick to go up to the van, john b, jj, and pope all smiling at him innocently. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” rafe kicked the door, making you gasp. “rafe!” you scolded, quickly making your way over to pull him away.

“woah, man! we just wanted a wash. is your girl available?” you flashed jj a look, reaching for rafe’s arm. “like you can afford it.” rafe scoffed, his fists clenching at his sides. “i bet you i can.” it was silent for a moment, your heart dropping when rafe attempted to reach for jj inside the twinkie. “john b, do something!” you panicked, your strength comparing to nothing against rafe’s.

john b stopped laughing, separating them before pulling out a twenty dollar bill. “okay, alright! on a serious note though, can she just get cleaned up?” rafe shoved the bill against john b’s chest, spitting a ‘keep your pocket change, asshole.’ as you shook your head. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.” rafe finally let down, pulling you into his side. “aw, come on! i’ll make it fifty if you lather up for me.”

your eyes widened, jj wearing a smug look on his face. “motherfucker-�� the twinkie sped off before rafe could lunge at it again, pope’s laughter echoing out of the parking lot. “i hate them.” rafe was seething at this point, his skin hot as he grabbed the small box your money was in. “go tell your friends you’re leaving, i’ll pay the rest of what you need.” without wanting to argue, you quickly told your friends bye before joining rafe in his truck.

“are you mad at me?” apart of you felt pathetic for asking, but with the way rafe was gripping the steering wheel, you couldn’t help but say something. “no, babe, i’m not mad at you,” he sighed, “i just can’t stand those fucking pogues.” he cursed, grabbing your hand. “you promise?” rafe pressed a kiss to your knuckles before turning on the engine. “i promise.” you sighed in relief.

“gotta’ get you home now. m’gonna rip that poor excuse of a bikini right off of you.”

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hanasnx · 1 month ago

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“ I CAN FEEL IT, CAN YOU FEEL IT, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING IN THE AIR ” — rafe cameron.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: kinktober; takes place in obx s4 e1 but there’s a slight change; also happy birthday @princessbrunette :) i wrote this for you in mind; and based off of the scene in f&f where dom picks letty up calling her his trophy. WARNINGS: spoiler warning for obx season 4 episode 1 ノ non canon compliant: i made rafe win the race ノ size difference ノ established relationship ノ objectification ノ impact play: ass smack ノ mild exhibitionism bcos of pda ノ praise ノ sexual content: p in v stuff ノ dirty talk.

Your feet sink into the sand as you traipse alongside RAFE CAMERON to his station in the race. His large hand envelopes yours, keeping you balanced as he leads you to his bike. The roar of revving fills your ears, loud enough for your boyfriend to have to lean down to your level to speak to you, walking you through the process and your role here. You’ve never been a flag girl before, but he told you she needs to be a “hot piece of ass” and he wants these boys heads still spinning when he wins the race. As a distraction, you were the only girl he wanted for the job.

“… and all you gotta do, baby, is make sure those guys are lookin’ at you. Show off a little something—just this once, I don’t care.” he explains, and you nod your head while brushing your hair out of your face from the wind. The two of you stand aside his bike and he mounts it, swinging a long leg over it. It creaks from his weight, and you roll your tongue between your lips. Without sunglasses, his gaze is narrowed, meeting yours in the light as he tugs you closer to him. “You look good. Prettiest girl on Figure Eight.” he assures you, the corner of his lips quirked as he checks you out. The tiniest booty shorts you could find and a stringy bikini top, you looked good enough to eat. If Rafe wasn’t so concerned with crossing the finish line while these cucks were still drooling over you, he’d be a little jealous they get such a treat. “Man, you are eye candy. Give me a twirl, c’mon.”

It eases your nerves, grinning bashfully to yourself as he raises your hand over your head, twisting on your toes to show him your outfit. He bites his lower lip hard at the sight of the underside of your ass hanging out of your shorts, and he can’t help but give you a tap. You whirl around from the swat, and catch his eyes flash up.

“Mm, baby.” he exclaims, talking about you like you’re dessert and he’s got a sweet tooth. He doesn’t give you a chance to scold him for smacking your ass around all these people, “C’mere,” he murmurs, yanking you to him until your body is draped over him on his bike. Your manicured nails brace on his chest while he steals a kiss, humming in surprise at him when he tilts his head to deepen it. Takes advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue along yours in a proper good-luck-kiss, which only makes for a string of spit to connect the two of you when you part. You breathe hard, chest rising and falling from thrill as you search his expression. There’s a glow of love-sickness in his eyes.

You try to milk more attention. “I don’t know if I can…” you begin, alluding to how shy you’re gonna be in front of all these people.

“Oh, don’t start that shit, you’re gonna be fine.” he dismisses, seeing right through you and shrugging you off him so you get it’s time to stop being clingy. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” He plucks his helmet up, and rounds his body to place it on his head while you reluctantly leave him.

When it’s time to start the race, you hold up two bandanas—donated by some guys trying to buy you drinks—and Rafe scoffs to himself, patting himself on the back for being such a genius. “Who wouldn’t be lookin’ at you?” he thinks, while he revs his bike. You even give the crowd a little shake, your girls strapped in your bikini top swinging teasingly right before you set them off with the bow of your bandanas and the low dip of your arch. Rafe could’ve sworn one guy glanced over his shoulder to check out your ass bent over because he lost control of his steering for a second after. The race was on, and you did your job exactly how your boyfriend wanted you to.

Some kook with too much time on his hands made his way through the crowd to invite himself into your atmosphere, watching you as you eagerly await Rafe’s return and your signal to drop the flags for the winner.

A voice too close to your ear alerts you, resulting in a minute jolt of your body when he speaks. “What are you doing after this?”

Brows furrow as you glance over your shoulder at him, “Oh, uh, I dunno right now.” you reply, but you’re not showing interest. It would depend on Rafe’s victory. You refocus, keeping an eye on the horizon and the roaring metal of competitive bikes. Rejoining the crowd’s enthusiasm, you react with them when someone wipes out.

“Me and the boys were gonna head to a kegger in the boneyard. You should come.” he tells you. Again, too close for your liking. He’s not particularly bad-looking, or grabby, but you don’t like how he’s standing right next to you and stooping to speak in your ear.

You face him again to respond, but the race takes your attention away, shutting your mouth to whirl around just in time to see Rafe drive back into view, sand kicking up behind his wheel.

After a close call, he wins, and when it’s safe, the adoring crowd cheers as it floods the scene to congratulate the riders. You’re one of them, beelining to Rafe without a second thought. He’s discarded his helmet, tossing it haphazardly to the sand as he meets you.

“Ah, there’s my trophy.” he says, hands clamping onto your waist to lift you from the ground. You squeal with delight, bracing on his shoulders and kicking your feet up. Slowly he lowers you until you can wrap your arms around his neck. He’s hot and sweaty, and smells like it too, inhaling his scent deeply as you embrace him and he spins you around. You’ve completely forgotten about that kook you left behind.

“Did so good, precious, did exactly what I told you to.” Rafe murmurs against your lips, whipping his bike jacket off behind him while you lead him by his jaw deeper into his place.

“Mhm, had to give them a show. Like you said.” you exhale, nodding fervently as you press yourself to him, desperate for some friction.

“Didn’t I say you’d be fine? Huh? What’d I say?” he goads, and stoops, signaling you to jump into his arms. He catches your legs, securing them around his waist before his hand cups your backside and his other pins you to him by the back of your neck.

“I did so good!” you reply, a little perkier than you’d meant to. It breaks him out into a grin against you, and he snickers through his nose. Bringing you to his bedroom, he settles your back onto the bed.

Lips locked, and bodies tangling together, he struggles to find a spare second to keep talking, “Gonna give me my prize? You gonna put out for the winner?” His hips surge, and a familiar hard outline sweeps across the crotch of your denim.

You nod, poking your tongue out in concentration as you help him to undress fully, and you wiggle out of your booty shorts. The peek of your tongue doesn’t go unnoticed, and Rafe’s lips overlays yours, sucking on the pink tip there toyingly. You relax into it, untensing them to melt into a real kiss as the tip of something else nudges against your sex. Already wet and aching from all the teasing today, you go limp at the promise of what’s to come. Bulging mushroom head lazily thumbing in and out of your slit makes your head throw back and jerk. “Rafe��” you whine. Sodden lips mouth at your cheek and jaw, working their way down to make out with your neck as his hips shallowly rut.

Ringed fingers clutch your face, tucking your chin in the web of his index and thumb. It faces you to him, and you look up at him with doe eyes and pretty brows in an upturn. He wants to watch your reactions as he pushes in deeper and deeper, finally sheathing as you cry out. It’s a stingy stretch, and he can see your want for it in the roll of your eyes and the flinch of your delicate expression. “Yeah, baby, gimme that trophy. That’s right.”

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hoshifighting · 29 days ago

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"helloooo lyla!! ive been reading your fics for a long time and I love them sooo much your such a great writer!

I was wondering if I could request jeonghan saying “marry me” in the middle of a rough sex?? ive been thinking about it for ages omg😭😭 (if your comfortable I’m not forcing!! <3)”

jeonghan saying “marry me” in the middle of a rough sex

warnings: smut, penetrative sex, cockriding, crying, needy moans

it wasn’t like you ever imagined that jeonghan, of all people, would let that slip. not when he’s got you riding him like you’re racing to some invisible finish line, his hands gripping your hips so tight it’s like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. you barely register the words at first, too caught up in the rhythm, in the filthy sounds coming out of both of your mouths, but then it hits you—

“marry me,” he breathes out, like a fucking confession, strangled and wrecked.

you freeze, body tensing. “wait, what?”

the room goes dead silent. the only sound left is your labored breathing. and his. and the stupid creaking bed under you both. you choke on your own spit, damn near swallow your tongue trying to process it, and jeonghan’s eyes are wide now, just as shocked as you. his face is this violent shade of red, cheeks flaming, and you swear you can hear his brain short-circuiting.

“i—” he stammers, looking away like that’ll save him from the mess he just made. “shit. i um—fuck.”

your brain’s doing cartwheels trying to catch up, but it doesn’t take long for the absurdity to hit you. you start laughing, like actual laughing, trying to hold it in but completely failing. you double over, one hand resting on his chest as he groans, embarrassment swallowing him whole.

“what the fuck did you just say?” you tease. “riding you so good you gotta wife me up, huh?”

“oh, shut up,” he groans, slapping your back in retaliation, though it’s more out of embarrassment than anything. his face is still red as hell, lips pressed together like he’s praying the earth’ll open up and swallow him whole. but the way he’s looking at you... that little crack in his usual cocky, rough persona has your heart doing this weird, fluttery thing in your chest.

“nah, nah, hold on,” you mock, starting to move your hips again, slow and teasing, feeling the way he twitches underneath you. “you really just—fuck—asked me to marry you?”

his hands snap back to your waist, that grip turning punishing. “i swear to god, don’t start.”

“why not?” you grin, feeling bold. “you mean it, hannie?”

“you want me to stop?” he asks, threatening, but you can hear the edge of it, the desperation he’s not quite able to mask. his hips buck up into you, almost instinctively, and you moan, losing some of your playful edge as your body melts back into his rhythm.

you bite your lip, trying to hold back another laugh. “didn’t say that.”

“good,” he hisses, grinding up into you harder, making sure you feel him. “then don’t fuckin’ tease me.”

but now, all you can think about is how real it feels, how intense his gaze is, and suddenly, his usual roughness feels... different. more desperate. he’s not just trying to make you moan, not just focused on his own pleasure—he’s unraveling, for you. “you didn’t answer me,” he mutters, words slurring together as you pick up speed again, each bounce making the bedframe shake. his hands are gripping your thighs now, pulling you down harder onto him, like he’s chasing something.

“huh?” you barely manage, mind spinning, trying to focus on anything besides the overwhelming feeling of him deep inside you.

he bites his lip, eyes glued to where you’re connected, his voice dropping to a low, shaky whisper. “say yes.”

you blink down at him, heart skipping a beat. he’s serious. fuck.

you’re not even thinking when you say it. “yes. i-i do.”

it’s like a switch flips. he lets out this sound—this needy, broken moan, and fuck, you’ve never heard him sound like that before. he sits up, practically yanking you down to meet his thrusts, arms wrapped tight around your waist, face buried in your neck. the pace is brutal, desperate, and you’re a mess of gasps and moans, every single one drawn out by the intensity of it all.

you don’t realize he’s crying until you feel it, those warm tears soaking your skin as he buries his face deeper against your shoulder. he’s shaking, breath hitching, but he doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop giving it to you exactly how you need it.

“fuck, you’re mine,” he whispers, voice wrecked, wet, needy. “all mine.”

you can barely respond, every nerve in your body on fire, but you clutch him tighter, fingers digging into his back, matching his rhythm with everything you’ve got. “yours,” you choke out, and that’s all it takes for him to fall apart completely. he’s holding you so close it’s like he’s afraid you’ll slip away, fucking you like he’s staking a claim, making sure you never forget this moment.

and then he cums, hard, dragging you over the edge with him, the two of you tangled in each other, breathless and whiny. jeonghan pulls back just enough to look at you, tears still clinging to his lashes, but he’s smiling now—the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“married to me, hm?” you tease heartily caressing his hair, panting, but your chest is warm, full.

“baby.” he groans, face contorting ready to cry again, making you chuckle, he pouts, burying his face in your neck again.

but you don’t miss the way his arms tighten around you. you don’t miss the way he holds you like he’s never letting go.

1K notes · View notes

sugume · 9 months ago

Text

YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU

✧･. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.

( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.

word count - > 6.6k

authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me!

“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle.

‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72 types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer.

“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.

‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types.

“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.

‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’

“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.”

‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’

You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop.

—

“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.

“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in.

“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”

You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself.

“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles.

“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening.

“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.”

You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car.

“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car.

“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.”

“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop.

“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...”

“Suguru is coming?” You scream.

“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.”

“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.

“Y/n!” You mom gasps.

“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better.

“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad.

“Sweetheart...”

“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.”

“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket.

“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?”

“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport.

“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior.

“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.”

—

“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.”

“Kay, thanks.” You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.

After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72.

‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.

‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’ Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies.

‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’

“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’

‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’

‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’

‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’

‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’

‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’

‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’

‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’

‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’

‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’

‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’

‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’

—

You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents.

“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.

“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different.

“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile.

“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces. You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.

‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile. Suguru has different plans.

“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster. Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?

...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t.

You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.

“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.

“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you.

“What?” You ask.

“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.”

You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it.

“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say.

“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare.

“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost.

“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling.

“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—”

“I don’t care.”

“Please—”

“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him.

—

You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.

You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72.

‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’

‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’

‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened.

‘Oh wow.’

‘I know.’

‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’

‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’

‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring.

“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care.

‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box.

“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.”

‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’

“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh.

‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’

“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight.

“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.

‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’

“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.”

‘And what is that?’

‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight.

"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please...

‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’

You nod.

‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’

You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand.

You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day...

“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt.

“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.

“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder.

“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.

You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming.

“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out.

“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water.

“N-no!”

—

“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.

“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress.

“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously.

“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie.

“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.

“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad.

“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back.

Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.

You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.

You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.

Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.

“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.

“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks.

Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him.

He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.

“No babydoll—”

“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed.

“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase.

“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.

“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.

“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.” You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him.

“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”

You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother.

“I know it’s a lot of information.”

“It is.”

“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.

Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.

“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.

You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?

You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.

Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—”

“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.

“Suguru—”

“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face.

“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.

“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.

He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.” You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair.

“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you.

Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.

“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.

“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.”

You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.

“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.

“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.”

“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.

“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders.

“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks.

“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips.

“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.

“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man.

“You okay babydoll?”

“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.”

“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.”

“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.

Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt.

“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.

“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.

“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.

“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch.

Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.

“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.

“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.” he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark.

“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you.

“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy.

“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.

“T-that was—”

“The best sex ‘ve ever had.”

“Same.” You smile before wincing.

“What’s wrong babydoll.”

“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble.

“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly.

“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”

“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.” He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.

#𐙚 ࣪ ˖ sugume writes #𐙚 ࣪ ˖ smut journal #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto smut #jujutsu geto #geto scenarios #geto x y/n #geto x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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nottsangel · 2 months ago

Note

oh oH OH but i need matteo, theo and enzo to be extremly frustrated and jealous when they noticed that we do bring home some guys!! like they're trying so hard to act nonchalant and like they don't care at all BUT they're secretly seething and plotting how they can stop us from getting any because how dare we?? we have three premium dicks at home, we don't need mediocre dick from the street heLLOOO

new girl au — in which you live with theodore, mattheo and lorenzo

“you gotta be quiet, okay? my roommates are fucking annoying and i really want to avoid them.” you whisper urgently to cedric as you slowly turn the creaky handle of the front door, carefully opening it and swiftly dragging him inside. from the kitchen, you hear theo, mattheo and enzo’s loud voices, overlapping as they chat and laugh uncontrollably, the noise echoing through the apartment.

“go that way.” you whisper again, pointing as you tip-toe nervously toward your bedroom while tightly gripping cedric’s hand to guide him. you hold your breath, tense with anticipation, desperately trying not to make a sound. and you think you’ve succeeded— until you hear mattheo’s nagging voice.

“so you’re not even going to introduce your new friend to us?” you groan in frustration, slowly turning on your heel before forcing a bright, yet clearly fake smile. “oh! i didn’t know you guys were home.” “bullshit.” theo mutters under his breath, making you roll your eyes in sheer annoyance.

“anyway, this is cedric. now, if you guys don’t mind—” “cedric, huh? welcome to our glamorous house. make yourself at home.” lorenzo says in the laziest, most indifferent tone, not even bothering to look at cedric.

then mattheo chimes in, his voice dripping with mocking amusement, “you’re like the fifth guy he’s had to say that to this week, so he’s a bit tired of it already, y’know.” your eyes widen in surprise, and your lips form a thin, displeased line while feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“what!? that— that’s not even true! cedric, don’t listen—”

“yeah, she’s fucking a guy in there like every night. we’re barely getting any sleep these days.” theo adds with a derisive chuckle, sarcastically winking at you as he takes a sip from his drink.

“and she doesn’t just fuck guys from outside these walls, if you know what i mean. but i’m sure she told you.” lorenzo smirks cockily, a self-satisfied and arrogant expression plastered on his face. at this point, you see red as you glare at each of them with narrowed eyes and your jaw tightly clenched, while cedric stands awkwardly by your side, giving you an uneasy and uncomfortable smile.

“uhm, hey… guys. nice to meet you. it’s— it’s a nice apartment you have.”

“cedric, you can go to my room. i’ll be there in a bit, okay?”

it’s dead silent as you’re glaring daggers at the boys, your arms folded tightly across your chest, before you finally hear your bedroom door click shut. “I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD! what the FUCK is wrong with you guys!? oh my god, i’m so done with—”

“relax, baby. it’s just guy banter, alright? you clearly don’t get it, but he does.” lorenzo explains nonchalantly with a smug expression, but you know he’s full of shit, seeing right through him. you furiously storm towards them and slap each of the boys angrily on the back of their heads.

“ow! what was that for?” mattheo asks, wincing in pain and rubbing the back of his head. “are you fucking serious?! you guys are cockblocking me, you dumb fuck.”

“calm down, piccola. you know we love you, hm?” theo comments teasingly, tightly wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close, planting a quick, playful kiss on your head.

“this isn’t love! pull shit like this again and i swear to god, i’ll kill each one of you with my bare fucking hands.” “yes ma’am. got it ma’am. please kill mattheo first, ma’am.” “oh fuck you enzo.”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

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c0ffeejelly1 · 3 months ago

Text

When you don’t say I love you back.

Multiple characters headcannon

Authors note: this is not spelling checked, grammar checked, punctuation checked so don’t come at me. I’m lazy.

Warnings: NSFW Content (kinda)

“Shit..babe!” He boomed to you across from the empty kitchen cabinet, before closing it to quickly put on some slides.

“I’ve gotta head out to the shop down the road for a quick minute, we’re outta snacks to eat with the movie.”

“Oh okay, see you later then, and don’t worry I won’t start the film without you..”

“You better not. Anyways bye, I love you.”

“Yeah.”

The type to walk back in and question it

He didn’t notice that you didn’t reply to him until he had closed the door behind him. That’s when it came to him.

Immediately after the door shut, he ripped it wide open again a confused and offended look on his face, as he stared down at you on the couch. “Babe.”

You turned to face him, an innocent expression painting your features. “Yeah? You forget something?”

“I think you’re the one forgetting something..” You glance around faking a puzzled look before returning your gaze to him,

“No...I don’t think I did. What are you talking about?” He was now crossing his arms at you, a disappointed look on his face.

“Y/N.” Yikes, he’s going first name bases with you; he was not playing around. It was a little funny to watch him react like this though, because you could see the small pout on his face despite the scowl he was presenting to you.

“Yes handsome?” You say mockingly wanting to see how far you could take this.

“Why didn’t you say it back?”

“Say what back?”

“y’know what I’m talking about.“

“Do I?”

“…”

You better kiss him now that you’ve made him sad.

Characters: MIDORIMA, kagami, giyuu, jean, kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, osamu, Ushijima, NANAMI, geto, LUCIFER, diavolo, todoroki, Iida. (Anyone you like)

The type to not process it until AFTER they’ve bought the snacks

It was while he was tapping his card to the register that he himself also registered-

“Wait a damn minute.”

He’s rushing his ass back home, the distant yell that he dropped his snacks, left unheard from the poor cashier.

When he arrives home though..

“So..” he starts, falling back onto the couch with you. “You know you're the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever met right?” He tries buttering you up a bit in hopes it’ll get you in a ‘good mood’.

“You’re just so SO beautiful, that every time I look at you there are only hearts in my eyes..y’know that right? Right baby?..” you only nod your head trying to stop the smile forming on your face.

“I just.. love you so much y’know?”

“Thank you.”

“Baby, I love you.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“I. Love. You.”

“Why do you keep repeating that?”

“You’re gonna make me cry.”

You say it back to him once he starts tickling the hell outta you.

Characters: dimple, REIGEN, KISE, rengoku, connie, armin, NISHINOYA, HINATA, OIKAWA, choso, gojo, MAMMON, DENKI. (Anyone you like)

The type to give you a dirty look and repeat it again LOUDER.

“..bitch.”

“Are you not gonna say it back?” Is what he would say to you, but instead he only resorted to giving you a not so…pretty look.

You knew damn well what you were doing. He’s no fool to you and your pranks, but that still didn’t explain the reason why he continued trying to make you say it back.

“Let’s try this again.”

“…” You give him a neutral look, a small smile dying to crack onto your lips.

“Bye, I LOVE you.” He tried emphasising the love part making sure you would get the hint of what he was waiting on.

“Mhm..yeah, now go buy the snacks I’m hungry.” Are you trying to get yourself killed? This is not the type of guy you should be fooling around with this kinda stuff.

“I’m not going anymore” he walks away from the door before striding over to you.

“What? Why? H-hey! What are you doin-” he grips onto your waist before hosting you onto his shoulder.

“Gotta find out why my girls being so stubborn, so what better way than..”

That’s how you ended up here, hands tied behind your back, and a blindfold on, all your senses focused on only him and the distant sound of the TV.

Every time he would say he loved you, If you didn’t reply back to him fast enough the restraints would stay on for an extra minute while he went ahead and watched the movie without you.

“I love you.” Jesus, you could practically feel the devious smirk he had on his face.

“I. Love. You. Too.” You reply with a small hiss through clenched teeth. He only chuckled at your tone giving you a slight pat on your head. “Bet you won’t try this again huh?”

He’s sleeping on the couch.

Characters: AOMINE, SANEMI, eren, UKAI, IWAIZUMI, tendou, ATSUMU, toji, satan, solomon, bakugou. (Anyone you like)

The type to immediately start apologising for no reason

“I’m sorry baby, I’ll never do it again.”

He doesn’t even open the door before he’s on his knees looking up at you for some hint that you weren’t angry at him. “Please say something..”

The reason you obviously couldn’t say anything at that moment was because you just didn’t expect him to go down on his knees and beg for forgiveness for who knows what-

“Look I know this must be about eating the takeout and only leaving the empty bowl behind to make it look as though I didn’t- and this obviously must also be about me stealing your shirt and accidentally using it as a washcloth- or maybe it’s the underwe-”

“OKAY!” You yell putting both your hands in front of his face rendering him confused, “I-I get it! Okay..”

he only cocks his head to the side moments before his face drops when you tell him it was a prank.

“Oh..it is?..”

“Yeah…”

“So you still love me?”

“Very much.”

…

“..wait- what did you do with my underwear?”

He’s gone silent.

He’s getting up.

He’s walking away.

He’s running now.

“Wha- Hey! Come back here!”

“Gotta buy the snacks now, bye!”

This man is NOT as innocent as he looks.

Characters: serizawa, tengen, REINER, kuroo, BOKUTO, LEVIATHAN, Asmodeus. (Anyone you like)

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imaginedisish · 3 months ago

Text

Savior Complex (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys! Here is the request I said I'd write. I hope it's what the anon wanted. It's quite long...and maybe a little different than my other Logan works...so I hope you guys enjoy. Inspired (obviously), by "Savior Complex" by Phoebe Bridgers.

Summary: You are willing to give up everything, including your own life, to save your found family. Logan, however, is not willing to let you do that. And he finally shows you why.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!! Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, friends to lovers, hurt to comfort, mutant!reader, omega!mutant!reader, fem!reader/afab!reader, allusions to death, canon typical violence, cursing, likely some grammatical errors, and I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,549 eeeeeesssshhhh

“Stay down!” Logan yells, his body hunched over yours, shielding you against the trunk of a thick tree.

You try to push him away. “We need to move!” You protest, shoving at him to no avail. He’s more solid than the tree at your back, firm, unwavering. Bullets fly overhead, swishing through the air. You listen to the sounds of triggers clicking and guns cracking. “I need to get out there!”

Logan presses himself further into you, his chest flush with yours. “You are not going anywhere,” he spits, his eyes trained on you. He’s studying every shift in your expression, every twitch in your shoulders and every flinch you make at the firing of a gun in the distance.

“Logan,” you say, trying to stand up straight, to force yourself from his hold. You raise your voice. “I’m going out there, and you are not stopping me.” You brace your hands at your sides, ready to use your powers if necessary. “Now is not the time to be the overbearing, protective friend, okay?”

Logan refuses to let up, unleashing his claws and digging them into the tree on either side of your body, caging you in, trapping you in place. “Well, isn’t that just too bad?” He mutters cockily, that shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Because I’m not going anywhere, princess.”

You swallow, flexing your palms, stretching your fingers down to the ground. “I’ll give you one second to reconsider that decision.”

He laughs, too self-assured for his own good. “And what are you gonna do—”

“Sorry, bub,” you chide, sarcasm heavy in your voice as you interrupt him. “But your second is up.” You shut your eyes, reaching towards the ground. Thin, black shadows—spirits—slip up through the blades of grass, nipping at Logan’s legs, wrapping around his ankles tightly.

He looks down as the shadows pull him away from the tree, his claws slipping from the bark with little to no resistance. More shadows emerge, twirling around his wrists and yanking them down to his sides.

“No!” He protests, thrashing as you step away from him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He cries out, trying his best to break free from the tight hold of the shadows.

“Using my powers,” you say nonchalantly, putting some distance between you and Logan as you step backward. You smile. “Spirit weaving. Started calling it that the other day, actually!” You’re gloating off now, showing off, manipulating the spirits to tighten around him.

You can see the irritation on his face—the fury written across his furrowed brow. “Oh! How cool!” He is far beyond sardonic—his voice a mocking jeer. “Now let me fucking go!”

You purse your lips, pretending to consider the thought as you backpedal through the surrounding trees. “Yeah…” you trail off. “I don’t think so. Think I gotta get a head start first.”

And then you make a break for it, sprinting through the trees, cracking the branches scattered along the forest floor. You can see the mansion in the distance, the government agents rounding up the children. The sight sets off something deep inside you. You can feel the anger in your heart, squeezing tightly, dread filling your stomach. You’ve let go of your hold on Logan, your focus now on something far more important.

You have to save the school. Your friends. Your family. You’re not an Omega-level mutant for nothing, after all.

You take a step closer to the school, grass dying underneath your feet as your boots tread along the ground—the bright green blades turn brown as you give in to your anger. Somewhere in the distance, a familiar voice calls your name, but it’s too late for that—too late to stop you now. Your eyes flicker closed and open again, changing colors as your powers take control: your left eye white and your right black—representing life and death.

My dear, Charles is suddenly your head. You must restrain yourself. You must back down.

“No,” you call out, your voice multi-dimensional, bassy and high, light and heavy. “It is time they learn we are not to be taken advantage of.”

It is too dangerous, my child, his voice bounces around your mind. Charles works hard to convince you, showing you visions of your death, of the potential consequences of your actions. This is not you. This is your anger.

“I know what I’m doing,” you protest, your voice echoing across the field.

The agents watch as you stalk across the lawn, spirits following closely at your ankles like a thick, massive cloud of black smoke.

Your name rings out from behind you. You can feel the tug of the familiar voice, the desire to turn around and see that face, to hear him call your name again. But you stifle the feelings down, struggling to ignore the way your heart begs to see him—Logan. You can feel yourself caught in the middle, split in two.

A tear slips down your cheek as you walk forward, closer to the agents. Their guns point at you—hundreds of fingers on triggers, aiming carefully with squinting eyes. You can see they’re no longer paying attention to the children. You’ve given the students their chance—their way out. You can see it in their faces; they know. They’re just waiting for your signal.

Spirits cloud your fists, climbing into your palms, eager for a fight. You bend your knees, digging your heels into the ground. The grass between you and the government agents has long since died. You can feel the tension, feel the spirits rumbling in the air and in your hands.

“You wanted a fight…” You pause, your voice a crack of thunder. “I’ll give you a fucking fight.” The spirits whisper in your ears, their hums filling the air. They aren’t dead; they’re drumming, living things. It’s time. Oh yes, it’s time. Go!

“Now run!” You scream to the children, unleashing the spirits across the lawn. You sprint across the field, black shadows knocking the agents over and throwing them away. You guide the spirits with your mind, directing them with the flick of your wrist and the point of your finger.

You’re bloodthirsty, searching for the mission’s organizer, hunting tirelessly for their leader. The spirits know what you want—what you need—and swarm around a man at the back of the lawn—the man following the children.

The spirits pick you up by your knees and your shoulders, lifting you into the air and towards the man. You fall to the ground right behind him.

You smirk hatefully, extending your fingers toward his ankles. Shadows surge him, threading around his legs, twisting up his stomach, and wrapping tightly around his throat.

“W-who the fuck are you?” The agent chokes out.

You cock your head to the side, grinning widely. The spirits goad you along. Tap his little head. You know you want to. Take his life. Go on. Take it. One tap to his temple—that’s all it would take—and his life would be yours. It’s something you’ve never done before, something you’ve been able to resist in the past. But this time, you can’t help it.

“Who am I?” You repeat condescendingly, laughing manically. You lift your hand, inching closer to his forehead. “I,” you pause, your fingertips brushing against his skin. “Am death.” Your white eye flickers out, turning pitch black.

This is what the Professor had always been afraid of.

“Don’t!” There’s that voice again, tugging at your heart. “Please, don’t.”

You keep your hold on the agent as you turn around. Logan. He’s in front of you now, approaching you slowly. Behind him, spirits wreck the other government agents, sweeping them up, throwing them away, holding them down. The other X-Men fight off the few remaining agents easily.

“I am going to finish this,” you say, struggling to hold on to your powers. Your hatred and anger fade at the sight of Logan—wearing the uniform he said he never would, his hair a disheveled mess, his hand slowly extending out to you.

He shakes his head, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “It’s already over,” he says firmly, taking your hand. You turn around and see that the government agent is passed out on the ground, likely from the pressure of the spirits choking his throat.

“If you hold on any longer, you’re gonna hurt yourself, princess.” Your eyes flicker at the nickname, your grip loosening on your powers. You can feel yourself slipping, fading away.

“H-have to f-finish the job,” you stutter, fighting against that tear in your heart.

Logan pulls you towards him, his thumb brushing soft circles to the top of your hand. “Think you already did, sweetheart.”

“N-no, she didn’t,” you hear a voice mutter from behind you. BANG! A gun cracks, and there’s suddenly a stinging sensation in your side. You turn, and the government agent is freed from your hold, his gun aimed at your head now.

“NO!” Logan shouts, but you ignore him, your powers flooding back to you. The spirits swarm the agent again, winding up his body and holding him in place. The shadows trail up your body too, coming to where the bullet hit your side and pulling the metal shell out.

You fight through the pain, pressing your pointer and middle fingers to the temple of the agent’s head. “This might hurt a bit,” you mumble, taking a deep breath and stealing his life force. “Just taking retribution.” His veins darken as your wound closes, taking only enough of the man’s life to heal yourself.

You sigh with relief as the wound becomes nothing. You lift your fingers from the agent’s head, and he slumps down to the ground. He’s truly incapacitated now, passed out cold.

You turn around, and Logan is still standing there. He approaches you again. You suddenly feel overwhelmed and woozy. It was too much, you realize.

Your eyes flicker again—black, white, normal, shifting quickly, shakily, like power going out in a thunderstorm. “L-Logan,” you stammer, hunching over, your hands on your thighs. He crouches down, letting you lean into him.

“Hey,” he whispers reassuringly—but you can hear the secret panic in his voice. “I’ve got you.”

The others call your name in the distance.

“I did it,” you whisper.

The spirits disappear from the field, slipping back under the ground.

Logan’s eyes are glossed over. “Yeah, you did sweetheart.” You fall fully into Logan, his arms wrapping around you, a single tear slipping down his cheek.

And then everything goes black.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Still in here, Logan?” It’s Charles.

“Yeah,” Logan’s voice is raspy, tired. And it’s close, like you could reach out and strum the sound waves. “Are the kids okay?”

“They’re all safe and accounted for,” Charles says. “And Hank is handling the government side of things. It was an unsanctioned attack.” Silence settles over the room, the pause strained and tense. “She’s going to be okay. You should get some rest.”

“I’m staying.”

“Logan—”

“I said I’m staying.” And then the door shuts.

Your eyes slowly open, and you realize you’re back in the mansion—in your room, your bed. Logan notices immediately, standing from the chair next to your bed and rushing to your side.

“Hey,” he soothes, his hand reaching out, gently cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch involuntarily. It’s an instinct—something you simply have to do. “You’re awake.”

“No visit to the lab for me, huh?” You joke, sitting up a bit as your memories flood back to you. You’re surprised that you don’t feel any injuries or soreness.

Logan swallows nervously. “You were…” he trails off, his eyes searching yours. “Earlier. All day, actually.” His thumb brushes against your cheek. “Everyone was worried about you.”

You shake your head, smiling softly. “I’m alright. I don’t feel a thing.”

But Logan isn’t swayed. You can see the fear in his eyes, the stress in his shoulders. “You should’ve let me hold you back.” He’s serious, his voice firm and steady. “You could’ve gotten hurt…” He struggles to get the words out, his eyes grazing up and down your body. “You could’ve died.”

“Logan,” you mumble, sitting up. “I did what I did because I had to,” you pause, your heart squeezing at the look on his face. “I’d give my life for this family. I would—”

“You’re not giving your life for anything; do you hear me?” He cuts you off, furrowing his brows, his other hand cupping your cheek now, too.

You close your eyes at the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his palms. “I would give my life to save you.” The words slip freely from your lips. You’re so sure of that fact, so impossibly certain.

He pulls you closer to him, his hands sliding from your face to the nape of your neck. “I won’t let that happen.”

“Logan I will always—”

But he cuts off your protests. “Enough of your fucking savior complex.” His voice is shaky now. He pulls you into his chest, and you let him. His arms slip down your back, pressing you tightly to him. His lips are at the shell of your ear. “I am not losing you.”

The vulnerability of his words shocks you, your breath catching in your throat. “You won’t,” you promise, burying your face into the center of his chest.

“I almost did,” he chokes out, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. His words kill you, your heart aching at the sadness in his voice.

You lift your head from his chest, looking up at him as he looks down at you. He’s massive, towering over you. You can smell him on your clothes, on your skin—tobacco and pine and musk. There’s a shift in his expression, in the tension in the room. His chest heaves under his beater.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, your hands sliding up his stomach, trailing over his abs. He relaxes into your touch, the stress leaving his shoulders. He leans over you, his forehead pressing to yours. The contact and the closeness are dizzying, your mind hazy as Logan’s fingertips ghost the sides of your waist.

He swallows harshly as his lips brush against yours—a whisper of a kiss. “Wouldn’t even give you the chance,” he mumbles. You can feel the charge in the air, the anticipation. There’s a look on his face, and you recognize it immediately. You feel it too.

Longing. Need.

His lips capture yours, engulfing you like a fire. His hands slip under your shirt, exploring your skin. He’s breathing you in, and you’re breathing him out. You’re suddenly one extraordinary machine, working together, moving against each other in time.

Logan pushes you down to the mattress, his lips still on yours, the kiss becoming rushed and frantic. He climbs on top of you, his bare arms caging you in on either side of your head. You spread your legs for him, giving him room to settle in between. You can feel his erection strain against his jeans as he rocks into you. The friction feels good, but it’s not enough. You grind against him, needy for more.

“Fuck,” he pants between kisses, lowering himself down onto his forearm to close the gap between you. His free hand finds the hem of your shirt and slips underneath, his fingertips trailing up and down your body. He’s still rutting into you, his cock nudging against your needy core.

You grab at his back, pulling on his beater. “L-Logan,” you stutter, his fingers bumping into the bottom of your bra. You arch up into him, giving him the space he needs to bring his hand to your back and unclasp it. He sits up, quickly pulling your shirt up and over your head, slipping your bra off, too.

He lays you back down, hovering over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand drifts up to your breasts. He squeezes softly, his thumb tracing over your nipples. “Beautiful,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck, biting your pulse point. “So fucking beautiful.”

His soft bites turn into kisses, trailing down your neck to your collarbone. He kisses in between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your shorts. You swallow, nodding frantically as he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, yanking them down your legs in one fluid motion.

You’re exposed to him—bare. He settles back in between your legs, his mouth just inches away from where you need him most. His breath fans across your clit, a jolt of electricity sparking a fire at the base of your spine. You can feel the ache between your legs growing.

“Please,” you beg, Logan’s name hanging on the tip of your tongue as you look down at him. He presses a teasing kiss to your clit, his eyes focused on you, on every move you make. “Logan, I need—”

You’re cut off by his tongue—a long, flat stripe licking through your folds, up to your clit. His tongue flits out, flicking lightly before starting all over again. “Gonna take my time with you, pretty girl,” he murmurs against you, the vibrations of his bassy voice coursing through you. Your walls squeeze down around nothing, begging for more, begging for release. “Gonna make you feel good.”

He spreads his palm against your inner thigh, nudging you open for him. His nails dig into your skin, fingers trailing up closer to your core. “Please,” you whine. “Want you.”

Logan’s fingers finally meet your folds, his tongue flicking your clit and pulling it between his lips, sucking softly. “Tastes so good,” he mumbles against you. “So fucking sweet.” Two fingers nudge your entrance, testing the waters, spreading you open slowly.

You open your mouth to beg for him again, but then he’s thrusting inside you—knuckle deep—his fingers stretching you out. Your walls flutter around him as he pulls out and pushes all the way back in. His swirls circles into your clit, his tongue lapping at you, savoring the taste of you.

He slides his free hand under your back and to your hip, hoisting you closer to him as he buries his face into your cunt. There’s a hunger in his eyes. No, it’s so far beyond hunger. He’s starving—starving for you and only you. If he could live inside you, he would.

He’s relentless as he sucks your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you. He can feel you shaking underneath him, trembling. His thumb draws gentle, comforting circles along your hip. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers in between thrusts. “Doing so good for me, taking it so well.” Your muscles contract around him at the words, his praises overwhelming you.

He's getting you there—the fire spreading, creeping in, ready to consume everything in its path. “’M’so close,” you moan, overstimulated and fucked out. Logan doesn’t slow down, his fingers hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. You can feel yourself coming undone, unraveling before him.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he soothes between laps. “Come on my tongue, just like that.” And then you’re letting go, coming around his fingers. Fire washes over you, beat after beat, pump after pump. It hits you in waves, the sensation crashing into you as Logan works you through your orgasm.

He’s whispering praises as he savors your taste on his tongue. So good, sweetheart. Letting me take care of you. I’ve got you. So fucking pretty.

His thrusts slow down, gently rubbing at your walls before sliding out. But his tongue is still working at your clit, lapping softly. “Could eat you out for hours, princess,” he says, licking another long stripe through your folds. “Maybe I will.” You can feel him smile against you.

But you need him, need him closer—as close as he can possibly be. “Logan,” you call out, already close to coming again. “Want you now,” you plead.

He licks one more long stripe before lifting his head. He sits up, staring down at you as he lifts his beater up and over his head. You stare at his chest, the way his muscles flex as he breathes. Your arousal glistens on his lips, his chin.

He unbuckles his belt and slips it from the loops, casting it to the ground with a loud clank. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans, tugging them down his legs along with his boxers. His cock springs free, and he is so much bigger than you ever imagined he’d be. You swallow at the sight, and Logan smiles.

He is so cocksure, but maybe he deserves to be.

He lowers himself down over you, once again balancing on his forearm. His free hand trails up your sides teasingly before resting on your hip. “Gonna go slow, princess,” he whispers, biting your bottom lip and then stealing a kiss. “Nice and easy.” His hand on your hip disappears, leaving you suddenly cold and empty without his touch. But you know where he’s going—know that he’s wrapping his fist around the base of his cock. You spread your legs for him, inviting him inside.

He nudges against you, sliding up and down your folds, feeling you. His tip bumps against your clit, sending a shiver down your spine as you squirm underneath him. He finds your entrance again, his head slipping in, and then pulling back out.

His teasing is too much. You need him, more than anything, ever. “Please, Lo. Need you inside—”

Your words get stuck in your throat as Logan thrusts deep inside you, his cock rubbing against your walls, stretching you out. You moan his name, arching your back, your breasts pressing against his chest. He stays there for a moment, his cock throbbing inside you, giving you a second to adjust to the size of him. But it’s not enough—you need him to move. You lift your hips, searching for more friction.

Logan pins you down, his free hand stilling you at your waist. “Wanna take my time with you,” he growls, sliding out and thrusting back in. “Wanna feel every inch of you.” He’s setting the pace: slow, but building. Once he’s sure you’re not going anywhere, he lifts his grip from your hip and brings his hand down between where your bodies connect.

He finds your clit again, still swollen and overstimulated, and starts to work slow, gentle circles into it. You’re already close, already almost at that edge.

Logan’s thrusts become rougher, deeper. He rocks into you, plunging himself down to the hilt as he flicks your clit. He swallows your moans with a kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You open your mouth, letting him inside. You’d give him anything—absolutely anything he wanted. He never even has to ask.

“Yours,” you breathe into the kiss. “All yours.”

“F-fuck,” he curses, rutting into you, your words goading him along. “Mine,” He growls, his hips snapping faster, his pace quickening with every thrust. “All mine, pretty girl.”

And then the confession spills from your lips. You can’t control it. “I love you.”

Logan pounds into you harder. “I love you, too.” He can’t control himself either. You squeeze around him, the words practically pushing you over the edge. “Needed you this whole time, sweetheart. The whole fucking time.”

You throw your head back, exposing your throat to him. He buries himself into the crook of your neck as he pumps in and out of you, biting down on your pulse point again and then licking away the pain.

“Can feel you getting close, darlin’,” he coos, his fingers still stroking your clit. Your walls flutter and contract around him. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

Your chests heave together, one single breath flowing between the two of you as he thrusts deeper. You’re slipping, letting go, crashing beneath him. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him closer. “Lo…” you trail off, unable to form a sentence.

“Love it when you say my name, sweetheart,” he grunts. “Say it again for me.”

“Logan,” you whine, your legs wrapping around his waist as he fucks into you. You can’t hold back anymore. It’s too much. And he knows.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he says, rubbing at your clit. “Let go for me.”

You do, clenching down onto him, pulling him deeper. He groans at the feeling, his pace faltering as you come around him. You’re melting into the sheets, your muscles tensing and relaxing, white-hot heat spreading across your vision.

“Fuck,” Logan groans, working you through your orgasm. After a few more slow, languid strokes around your clit, his hand slips from your core and up your body. He squeezes your breasts before sliding his palm behind your back, lifting you up for better leverage. He fucks up into you, pressing you closer to his chest.

You tighten your legs around his waist, keeping him in place. He knows what you’re asking him for. “Inside?”

“Yes,” you murmur. He brings his lips to yours as he comes inside you, filling you up. He’s so warm, so solid. You cling to him as he finishes, not wanting to let go. His pumps slow until he’s still inside you. He holds you there for a moment, your foreheads pressed together.

Logan carefully pulls out. He rolls off you and pulls you with him so that you’re lying on your side next to him. He wraps his arms around you, keeping you pressed against his chest. Your legs tangle together.

The intimacy of the moment suddenly sobers you, and memories of today come flooding back. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes. Logan notices immediately.

“Hey,” he whispers, panic clear in his voice. “It’s okay,” he soothes, running his hands along your back. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so sorry…” you trail off, burying your face into his neck. “I’m so sorry for scaring you, for hurting you, for putting myself in danger. I just—”

“I know,” he interrupts you. “It’s okay, don’t cry. I’m here.”

“I won’t leave you,” you vow. “I promise.”

“Don’t promise,” he says softly. You look up at him, a sad smile spread across his face.

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

He swallows. “Because I would’ve done the same for you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’d tear the world apart for you.” He pauses. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smile, your tears subsiding. You take a deep breath and recall something he had said before. “So, who has the savior complex now?” You joke.

“Me,” he says back, half joking, but half serious, too. You can hear it—the honesty, the intention. “I’d do anything to save you.”

“It’s not gonna come to that.”

“But when—” he stops himself. “If it does, I’ll be there.” He pauses. “I will always choose you. Always. Every time.”

Always. Always. Always.

It’s all you can think about as you fall asleep in Logan’s arms.

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ponderingmoonlight · 28 days ago

Text

Gojo watching 'How to Be a Better Husband' videos in secret so he'd be ready if you ever said yes

Satoru Gojo isn’t exactly known for being serious. He’s loud, playful, and the absolute embodiment of overconfidence dripping from each and every pore. So when you walk into the living room and see him hunched over his phone, intently focused on something, it’s strange enough to make you stop in your tracks.

You peer over the back of the couch, curious. His earbuds are in, and his eyes are glued to the screen. You can’t hear the sound, but the title of the video makes your brows shoot up and heart skip a beat.

“How to Be a Better Husband.”

Your first instinct is to laugh. Satoru watching something like that? The man who can't even remember what day of the week it is, let alone handle responsibility in any meaningful way? The man who never fails to make fun of you, who never gave you the feeling that your relationship is this serious before?

But as you watch him sit there, shoulders tense and gaze unwavering, a strange warmth curls in your chest. Is this...really how he feels?

He pauses the video to take notes - actual notes. Scribbling them down on a notepad with the same intensity he usually reserves for strategizing in battle. You blink, feeling heat shoot up your cheeks.

What’s more shocking is the care written all over his face. His usual cocky smirk is gone, replaced with concentration, like this is something he doesn’t want to mess up. And maybe that’s what hits you hardest. The fact that he’s trying. That he’s preparing for something you haven’t even agreed to yet.

You haven’t said yes to marriage, haven’t even had a real conversation about it. But here he is, studying for a future he’s hoping for, one where you’ve chosen him. He’s already thinking of how he can be better, how he can be enough for you.

The thought stirs something deep in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you finally ask, your voice teasing but soft as you lean over the back of the couch.

He jumps slightly, pulling out one earbud as he looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, y’know… just, uh… preparing.”

He waves his phone in the air, as if that explains everything.

“Preparing for what?”

You tilt your head, pretending not to notice the blush creeping up his neck.

“For… when you marry me, obviously.”

He grins wider, but there's a nervousness underneath it, like he's half-joking but also completely serious.

“Gotta make sure I’m husband material, right?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“And watching YouTube videos is going to make you a better husband?”

“Hey, don’t knock it 'til you try it. These guys have great tips.”

He taps his phone, the confidence slipping back into his voice, though his eyes still flicker to you like he’s waiting for your reaction.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself.

“Satoru, you’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” he teases, sliding his arm around your waist as you lean over the couch.

His tone is light, but the way his eyes hold yours for a moment longer than usual - it makes your heart flutter.

And he’s right. You do love him. In all his chaotic, larger-than-life glory. But this? Seeing him like this, quietly working to be better for you? It’s a different side of him, one that makes you realize just how much he’s thought about a future with you.

You press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he blinks up at you, surprised.

“What was that for?”

“For trying,” you say quietly.

"You’re already enough, you know."

His grin softens, and he pulls you down into his lap, wrapping you in his arms.

“Good to know. But I’m still watching these videos. Just in case.”

You chuckle, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Whatever makes you feel prepared.”

Satoru hums, content. “I want to be ready for the day you say yes.”

And the way he says it. Like he knows that one day you will makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to feel the same way.

1K notes · View notes

criminalamnesia · 6 months ago

Note

GOD I LOVE traitor and how strong you've made the reader. It's amazing! And I eagerly await any future parts, whether it's big proper story or drabbles. BUT, you come first and your life does so you do what you gotta and go be amazing! We can wait. Proud of you X

im so late to responding, but thank you! <3

here’s part six :) also not really proofread so I apologize for any errors! I’ll fix them later!

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the floor, cross-legged amongst broken glass, brittle flowers, and discarded clothes, when someone knocks on the door.

you don’t move, don’t say anything. the noise seems distant— too far off to be real.

besides, if someone is really knocking on your door, they know you’re in here.

and if they know you’re in here, it could be one of five people. your former squad mates, or the doctor.

the knock sounds again. it shakes you from your stupor, yet you still make no move to answer it. let them come in; let them see what they’ve made of you. of who you were. of who you could’ve been.

the person on the other side of the door is speaking now. you register the muffled baritone as it fights to be heard from the hall.

you clench your fists, then unclench them— stretching out your fingers as far as they go. clench them again. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it’s a tick— a calming habit. you don’t think it’s working at the present moment.

the doorknob turns. you still don’t move.

the door is being pushed in, light from the hallway aggressively slicing through the darkness you’d left yourself in. you fought the urge to curl in on yourself.

you’d been so consumed by your anger— are consumed by it— but coming into this room and seeing that damn note was earth-shaking. it was terrifying, and it was a tangible reminder of the team’s unapologetic tactics. simon’s unapologetic tactics.

the voice is speaking once more, clearer now that the door is out of the way— but you can’t make out the words over the ringing in your ears.

a hand gingerly lands on your shoulder, and that’s when you snap.

you whirl around, throwing yourself into the intruder like a cobra striking its prey. clearly caught off guard, the person lets loose a ‘oomph’ and falls backwards as you take out their legs.

everything is fuzzy. the ringing in your ears crescendos, and it brings pain with it. you’re striking your target with reckless abandon, still not registering who is flailing underneath you.

punches land and land and land. nails scrape and scratch and draw blood. all you see is red— all you hear is the sharpening of a knife or the whirring of a saw.

and then there are hands on you, yanking you away from your victim. the red slowly starts to recede, the ringing in your ears subsiding.

it’s only then do you release you’re screaming.

its only then do you see the swollen and bloodied face of your doctor, lying a foot away from you. she sputters a cough, blood leaving her lips and splattering onto the man leaning over her.

“you need to calm down,” a voice speaks into your ear.

“calm down, or they’ll sedate you,” it says, and you finally stop screaming. you take a breath.

clench your fists. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it takes you another minute to calm down enough to realize the person holding you is simon.

the doctor is being carried away now, and you notice it’s johnny and kyle carrying her. you notice john is standing to your left, eyes full of sympathy and guilt as he looks at you.

“get,” you huff, reaching down to slap at the arms circling your middle. “off me.”

simon releases you instantly. you don’t hesitate to put distance between the two of you. a few feet, at least. he just stands there, eyes watching with an expression you can’t place.

“what happened, love?” john’s voice is a soft rumble as he speaks. he moves a hand toward you, but decides against touching you— even if he only wanted to comfort you.

“I—” you start, glancing down at your hands. they’re bloody again.

“I thought it was—” you try again, but stop yourself.

you thought it was what? thought it was who?

you had heard man’s voice speaking to you. your mind had twisted things— had given you something you wanted to hear, deep down— because it gave you the chance to strike.

it gave you the opportunity to tear apart whichever man from the 141 had been there to check on you.

and you know you had wished it was simon.

john takes a cautious step forward at your silence. “let’s get you somewhere private, yeah? somewhere to cool down.”

the fire licking at your veins has subsided in favor of the chill of shame. of terror at what you’ve done— what you’ve done to the one person you had on your side. the person who was truly on your side.

you don’t fight this time. you give a nod, then solemnly follow him down the corridor. simon falls in behind you.

john takes you to his office, opening the door and ushering you inside. you move without protest, stepping into the dark room.

the two men enter behind you, john flicking on the light while simon pulls the door shut. you would’ve laughed at the scenario if you were in your right mind.

but you weren’t.

you weren’t okay. you knew that you weren’t, at least physically, but what you just did…

there was no way you were going to be transferred now. you doubted you would’ve even before you attacked the doctor.

you’re going to be discharged. you understand why.

but it hurts. this is your job, your life. years and years on the battlefield don’t prepare you for life off of it.

“love?”

john’s voice brings you back to the present. you realize you’ve been standing in the center of the room, unmoving and unblinking.

you feel simon’s hard gaze on your back. you want to cry.

how did things ever get this fucked up?

“im fine.” you say, not bothering to turn around. you didn’t trust yourself to keep it together if you faced them.

“you’re not,” john states, and you roll your eyes.

“im not talking about this with you,” you bite out, circling your arms around yourself. “either of you.”

“you should at least talk to someone, love— this isn’t healthy.”

“please, stop.” you tell him, but john was never good at taking orders. he gave them, not followed them.

“you hated the therapist, and you haven’t spoken to anyone else since… everything.” he continues.

“stop, john,” you try again.

“you need to let it out, love. we’re here—”

you spin around then, fists dropping to your sides. “for the love of god, john, shut the fuck up.”

that stuns him into silence, eyes slightly widened and mouth agape as he looks at you. simon doesn’t move from his position near the door.

“you are the last people i would ever fucking talk to! I don’t even want to be talking to you right now, but you won’t stop trying. trying to talk to me, trying to make it up, trying to wriggle your way back into my good graces.”

you pause, sucking in a breath. “johnny must’ve relayed the message, and that’s why you’ve back off a little— but one wrong fucking move and you’re swooping again! you aren’t my dad, you aren’t my lover, you aren’t my friend, and you’re sure as hell not my fucking captain anymore.”

“so please, john, leave me be. the four of you have done enough.”

the room is silent for a beat, then two. then three. and then simon takes a step forward, removes his balaclava, and looks you square in the face.

he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, so you take the chance to.

“don’t start with me, simon. just don’t.”

“the note,” he says. “you read it.”

you just look at him, a disbelieving scoff leaving your mouth as you give a nod. “yes, I read your fucking note. and I saw the stupid flowers, too, after seeing everything else you wrecked. tell me, how long did you wait after you tied me up to tear it all apart?”

he just watches you. you want to scream.

the note flashes back into your mind.

‘hope you can understand.’

“does it make you feel better, thinking what you did was right?” you ask him.

“I wouldn’t have done it differently.” simon tells you.

you clench your fists. unclench. stretch.

breathe in, breathe out.

“and if the roles were reversed,” you said, watching him. “if you were in my position, would you have expected me to do what you did?”

“yes.” he says, without hesitation.

“you’re unbelievable,” you huff. “is that how little I meant to you? all that time, wasted?”

“that’s not what I said.” he tells you, and you shake your head.

“no, but it’s what you meant.” anger is bubbling up again. you feel overwhelmed; shame and fury battling inside you. the ringing building up in your ears again, emerging from the background.

you can’t do this.

“what i meant is what i said.” he takes another step forward. “you’re just too damn stubborn to listen, always have been.”

“just go, simon.” you tell him. “both of you. go.”

“I wouldn’t change what I did,” he says again. “to protect my team, my family, I would do whatever it takes.”

you bite your tongue. you don’t want to keep arguing with him. he was an unmovable object— there was no way to reason with him.

“im not sorry it happened.” he speaks. “i did what i thought i had to do. what i had to do to make sure my team was safe.”

“and you should understand that, considering this team is all you have, too.”

you don’t respond— and even if you were going to, a knock on the door breaks the tense silence in the room.

johnny pops his head in, his eyes full of concern. “doc’s alrigh’.” he says, his gaze catching yours. “jus’ some bumps and bruises. she’ll be jus’ fine.”

“and she uh— said she’s not pressin’ charges or anythin’. says she still expects to see ya in a few days for your check-up.”

that’s what breaks you.

a tear slips from your eye, falling onto your cheek. another follows, then another, and you’re sobbing as you fall to the floor of price’s office.

the three men are staring, but no one makes any move to comfort you.

probably wise, considering what you did to the last person who tried.

you faintly register the click of the door as it shuts again. you don’t look up— your head in your hands as you cry.

cry about what you’ve done, what you’ve lost. mourn your career and your family and your love for the man who doesn’t regret what he did.

unbeknownst to you, simon is the only one still left in the room. his steps are silent as he approaches you— leaving only a foot of space between your bodies now.

he watches you as he sinks to the ground across from you, his long legs folded over each other, the fingers of his left hand twitching as he finds himself wanting to reach for you.

he still cares for you. his feelings for you were what made him do what he did in the first place.

the love he felt for you, twisting into betrayal and hurt and agony. fueling his actions, his desire to hear you admit your wrongdoings.

passion made people dangerous. passion in love, passion in rage. it was a fine line, and simon had crossed it.

he understood what this meant for you. recalls the conversation he had with price earlier— how laswell was planning for your discharge instead of your transfer.

this was the end of your time with them, and in the military. the hands of the 141, damaging one of their own beyond repair.

he finds himself mourning alongside you, then. mourning what was and what could’ve been.

what should have been.

“im sorry for what we did to you,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper that you don’t hear.

“im sorry.”

thank you all again for your patience! I plan on tying this little series up soon :)

as a reminder, I no longer do taglists. if you want to be notified when I post, follow @troiastitans and turn on notifications. I only reblog my works there.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

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backwzzds · 1 year ago

Text

ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren

eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.

thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.

your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.

eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”

you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”

eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”

don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.

but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you

“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.

eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”

it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.

you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.

after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”

with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.

in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?

when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.

with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.

eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”

#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐#plug!eren x reader #plug!eren #plug!eren x black reader #plug eren x black reader #plug eren x reader #plug eren #plug eren smut #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #plug!eren smut #aot x black reader #eren jaeger x chubby reader #eren x black reader #eren x chubby reader #aot x chubby reader

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smileysuh · 6 months ago

Text

comfort cuisine

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k

🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)

Prologue

“I’m so sorry about this,” Johnny’s voice distracts you from the breakfast you’re making, and you turn around from the bacon to look at your friend. “I really wish I didn’t have to keep calling you and asking for favours like this-”

“Johnny,” you shut his rambling up with a pointed expression, “stop, it’s okay.”

“It’s not-”

“John,” you repeat, “seriously, we’re good. Given… the circumstances, I honestly don’t mind.”

The circumstances… neither of you can bring yourselves to say it. You know that if you say it… if you say ‘I don’t mind helping out since the death of your wife’ Johnny will just about break down, and he doesn’t have time to do that, not when he’s got to be at work for seven am, prepping the kitchen and getting ready for the day.

Even by calling this situation a ‘circumstance,’ you can see a half glazed expression overtake Johnny’s face. He’s frozen for a moment, and you take the time to study him.

You think it’s safe to say neither of you expected any of this to happen.

You’d met him in culinary school- he’d been a young guy, a new dad who’d had a daughter at nineteen, with dreams of opening his own sandwich food truck, ‘like Subway, but gourmet,’ he’d always explained.

Now, he’s a twenty four year old wreck, doing his best to climb the ladder in the food service industry, mourning the loss of his late wife, struggling to take care of his daughter, his dreams of a food truck long since forgotten in favour of chasing a head chef status to earn him enough of a salary to pay for everything in a one income household-

“Seriously,” your words snap the single dad back from his zone out, “we’re good. I’m making breakfast for Soonbok, I’ve got her lunch packed, I’ll take her to kindergarten, pick her up after- you just have to remember I have a night shift, gotta be at my own restaurant by five at the latest.”

“Five, yeah,” Johnny nods, swallowing thickly and toying with his daughters small pink backpack. “One day, I’ll be higher up on the food chain, and I’ll have better hours- I promise this isn’t a forever thing.”

“It’s an ‘as long as it needs to happen’ thing, okay? Don’t sweat it,” you assure him. “Here,” you take some of the crispy bacon out of the pan, putting it onto a scrambled egg bagel you’d prepared, “you need breakfast too.”

Johnny just about melts looking at the food. “You’re so good to me.”

You offer him a smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

One

Johnny swears his age is catching up to him. It’s not even four oclock and he’s feeling tired, letting out a groan as he says goodbye to the nightshift guys and heads to change out of his head chef attire in the staff bathroom. He’d turned thirty this year, and as he looks at his face in the mirror, he thinks he’s starting to see it.

On his way out of the back door, Johnny bumps into one of his line cooks. Mark Lee is pressed to the wall where people usually lean to smoke, his girlfriend closing him in with her hands on either side of his head. Back when she was expo, everyone used to call her Sunshine, but in her dealings with Mark Lee, Johnny’s come to realize that he’s the angel, not her.

“Aren’t you two on the clock?” Johnny jokes as he walks past.

Sunshine pulls away from Mark, offering the head chef a grin. “We’re on a vape break.”

“Sure you are,” Johnny laughs, shaking his head. “See you two back in there, better only be five more minutes.”

“Aren’t you done for the day?” Mark asks, confusion written on his face, along with lipstick marks that he’s hurrying to wipe off.

“Grabbing happy hour with a friend, but be careful Mark Lee, I’m always watching. Just because I’m sitting at the bar doesn’t mean I’m not judging you.”

Johnny can hear Mark mutter something under his breath, and Sunshine is quick to try to calm him down, but as Johnny turns the corner to head to the front entrance of the restaurant, he hears the back door open and close, signaling the end of the little ‘vape break.’

When Johnny joins you at the bar, you’re chatting with Jeno, and the sight makes an unexplainable emotion tingle up his spine. Out of all the front of house staff here, Jeno might just be the biggest manwhore, and he’s had a thing for cougars for a while, although there’s only a handful of years difference between the two of you-

“What are you guys talking about?” John asks, taking a seat on the dark green leather hightop stools surrounding the bar.

“Which virgin drinks are the best,” you respond casually. “I was going to get an iced tea, but Jeno convinced me to try one of your new virgin lemon ginger fizzes.”

“That’s called upselling, honey, you should know that, seeing as you’re in the industry,” Johnny grins.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who invited me here, so I figured you’d be paying.” You take a sip of your straw, looking at Johnny with a smirk, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Are we getting food?” Johnny asks. “I might as well take care of that for you too.”

“I’ve got time,” you respond casually. “Don’t work for an hour, lets get our ‘nosh’ on.”

Johnny can only laugh at your antics, turning to Jeno, who’s watching with an amused grin. Everyone here knows you and Johnny are close, you come here often enough to see him, the two of you catching each other for a half an hour here or there between his day shifts and your night commitments.

Johnny orders three appetizers off the happy hour menu, two things he knows you like, and one that’s more up his alley. “Make sure Yuta isn’t back there slacking off,” Johnny warns Jeno, knowing that two of the items will be coming from the ‘bottom end’ of the expo line, which is where Yuta runs the show after Johnny’s off.

“I’m sure he’ll pull out all the stops for our MVP,” Jeno grins, typing the order into an ipad. “Do you want a beer? We’ve got new rotators.”

“Don’t bother trying to upsell me,” Johnny scoffs. “House Lager, and don’t fuck around with the foam.”

“You run a tight ship here, captain,” you tease, bumping Johnny’s elbow.

“Speaking of-”

“Don’t try to recruit me to work here again,” you’re quick to warn.

“Damn it,” Johnny shakes his head, pretending to be quite upset about your rejection. He does feel it- he does think you’d be a great member of the team, and he’d love to offer you a dual head chef position, but it’s not in his power to do so, and that fact haunts him every day. Working for a company limits what he’s able to do, and sometimes, even at age thirty, Johnny still thinks about his dream to open a food truck, with you by his side. “No, in all seriousness, I wanted to talk to you about Soonie’s birthday.”

“Right, she’s turning eleven soon, that’s quite the milestone,” you grin, playing with your straw.

“I asked Doyoung if I could open early for her birthday, it’s a Sunday, I was thinking some of her friends and their parents could come in for a brunch an hour before we’re open for the public.”

“That’s a great idea!”

“Here’s the catch, Soonie was raised on your breakfast food. As much as I try to make things for her, and I hate to admit this, by the way, she always says your cooking is better. So I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come in that day and help me out with all of this. With your skills, I wouldn’t need Hyuck and Mark, it could be just us, and I’m sure we could make a birthday breakfast Soonbok would never forget. It would be like old times, like back when we were in culinary school.”

He loves the way you’re smiling at him, giving him space to rant.

When he’s done, you cock your head to the side, only wasting one beat before you say, “I’ll do it.”

“Really? I don’t have to bribe you with money or anything?”

“Jeeze, have I ever asked you for money, John?” You smack at his arm, clearly slightly offended. “I’m doing this for Soonie… and maybe a little for you too.”

“Don’t go soft on me, killer,” Johnny teases. “Everyone around here’s too soft these days.”

“Says the softest dad I know,” you roll your eyes.

“Shh,” he warns, “don’t say that loud enough for Jeno to hear.”

“As if everyone doesn’t already know.”

The two of you continue to chat and joke, a short while later, the head manager, Doyoung, shows up carrying food. It’s funny for Johnny to see Doyoung balancing two items on one arm, the third in the palm of his hand, but he supposes Doyoung started somewhere too, the same way John had.

“VIP happy hour appetizers,” Doyoung sighs, setting the food down.

“As opposed to regular happy hour appetizers?” you grin, immediately reaching for a fry.

“These are special,” Doyoung insists, “pretty sure Yuta spit in them.”

Doyoung is a pretty regal man, he’s not one to joke around- but for some reason, when Doyoung is in your vicinity, he loosens up a little. Everyone loosens up around you, you radiate a safe space kind of energy, the kind of energy that makes Johnny’s tense shoulders relax, his smile softening.

“Then I’ll be sure to eat all of this,” you respond. “Tell Yuta more spit.”

Doyoung shakes his head at you. “I’m sure Johnny’s tried to poach you already, but if you ever want a job, you can have his.”

“Hey!” Johnny laughs.

“I’ll consider it,” you grin.

“And I expect a plate of food for this brunch thing,” Doyoung continues. “I’ve heard nothing beats your breakfasts, even though you work nights.”

“Someone has been talking about me again,” you muse, eyes shifting to John.

“What can I say?” He holds his hands up in defense. “I speak only the truth.”

“Your reputation precedes you,” Doyoung insists. “Anyways, have fun you two, I’ve got food to run, our new expo girl isn’t filling Sunshine’s shoes too well.”

There’s a glint in Doyoung’s eye before he scurries away, and Johnny turns to watch the new expo girl practically short circuiting with take out orders on the line.

“Poor girl,” you sigh. “It takes a certain kind of person to work in a restaurant.”

And an even more specific type to do what the two of you do as chefs.

Two

You’ve been on a few first dates this year, and this one is definitely a bottom three. You’ve had one drink, and you already feel like finding a way to slip out early.

Initially, you’d been intrigued by dating a man in finance, but it’s clear now that you’re in two completely different worlds- and to make matters worse, he mostly talks about himself. He’s oozing this obnoxious confidence that makes you grimace every time you sip your drink, and not from the alcohol.

Your date is in the bathroom when Johnny calls.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you!” His voice warms your heart. “So Soonie is at a sleep over tonight, and I was thinking about making a Soonbok style menu for her birthday, all Soonie style names for food and such, planning a menu just for her- are you up to anything? Can I go through it with you?”

“Actually…” your gaze shifts to the bathrooms, “I’m on a date.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going so bad, and planning Soonie’s birthday would be such a better use of my evening. Listen, can you come pick me up? I’ll text you the address, you can come and call me when you’re outside, pretend it’s a family emergency or something-”

“You got it, I’ll be there right away.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re hopping into Johnny’s car, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“That bad, huh?” he asks.

“I don’t even want to talk about it right now,” you groan.

“Here, distract yourself,” Johnny hands you a piece of paper, and you realize it’s a mock up menu for Soonbok’s birthday. “This is just a prototype, I was messing around with styles on some fucking site called Canva-”

“I didn’t know you were good at this sort of thing,” you gasp, taking in the intricate fonts and colouring.

“The site did all the work, trust me,” Johnny scoffs, pulling out into traffic. “Read it over and let me know what you think.”

You begin to scan the menu. There’s Soonie Side Up Eggs, and Boken Avocado Bennies, Soonbok Style Slapjacks and Suh Family Breakfast Sammies.

“I’m shocked you came up with this many names related to Soonie and Suh,” you say.

“I spent my entire shift thinking about them in the back of my mind while I worked,” Johnny admits. “They’re not cheesy or anything, right?”

“They’re definitely cheesy,” you confirm, “but Soonie is going to love them. You’ve always been cheesy, John, and she adores you for it.”

You notice Johnny’s skin turning a little red, and it’s not just from the reflection of the traffic light illuminating the inside of his car while you wait for it to go green.

You continue to study the menu, thinking hard the entire way back to Johnny’s house.

He’s got a modest three bedroom townhouse, with his and Soonbok’s rooms on the top floor, and the guest bedroom on the main floor with the kitchen and living room. The kitchen is, without a doubt, the heart of the home, and the two of you make your way there as soon as you’re past the threshold.

“I have some thoughts,” you admit, setting the menu down and pointing at one of the items. “Soonbok toast,” you announce, a twist on french toast, “it says here that it comes with a berry compote. I can tell that this is one of the dishes more geared toward others, because if this was really for Soonie, you’d know that your daughter doesn't even touch berry or apple crisps. She picks at the oat brown sugar on top, but doesn’t like cooked berries or fruits.”

“Yeah…” Johnny leans next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “That was the only one I wasn’t sure on, but for brunch, you have to have a french toast option, right?”

“We can still do french toast, but I think every menu item should be something she’d actually love, don’t you agree?”

“A hundred percent.”

“What if, instead of berry compote, we do an brown sugar glaze type sauce?”

“That could be doable,” Johnny admits. “Should we try to make one now?”

“Can we do it in the morning?” you ask. “Honestly, I had one drink at the bar, I’m tired after a long shift, and I’m ready to have a few more drinks then pass out.”

“Drinks are a good idea,” Johnny grins, already heading to the fridge. “It will give me more time to think about how to make the brown sugar glaze, and I’ll get on top of that in the morning.”

“Exactly. Chef hours are over, we can just relax,” you insist, heading to collapse on his couch.

“Chef hours are never over,” Johnny reminds you, cracking open a beer and approaching so he can hand it to you.

“It’s one of the reasons dating is so hard in our profession,” you sigh, taking a swig of your drink.

“The hours make it tough,” Johnny nods.

“So does the mentality,” you remind him. “We just… we think a little differently than others. We’re all a little too committed to our work.”

“That’s not always a bad thing, you’ve just gotta find someone you’re compatible with, someone who will appreciate that about you.”

“Says one single chef to the other,” you laugh.

Johnny clinks his bottle against your own before taking a large gulp. “Touche.”

Three

Johnny is doing his best to work quietly, aware that the guest bedroom is just a short distance from the kitchen as he whips up eggs for the french toast batter.

He manages to get all the way through to the cooking before you sleepily putter into the kitchen, adorned in one of his spare shirts for when you sleep over unexpectedly. You look adorable, but Johnny can’t bring himself to focus on you as he perfects the brown sugar glaze, careful not to burn it.

“Almost done,” he calls over his shoulder, “take a seat then try this with me?”

“It smells good,” you tell him, pulling out a chair at the island kitchen counter.

“Thanks, honey, I was up last night thinking about it- had to wake up early to try it out.” He lifts the french toast onto a plate, dipping a spoon into the glaze to coat the breakfast. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

“The smell did,” you muse, grinning as he brings the french toast toward you, setting it down and opening a drawer to retrieve two sets of utensils.

The two of you cut into the toast, and you lift your fork. “Cheers,” you grin, and Johnny touches his food to your own before you both go in for a bite.

The french toast is cooked to perfection, and although the brown sugar glaze is a little sweet for his liking, Johnny knows Soonie’s sweettooth will appreciate this adjustment to the recipe.

But when Johnny lifts his gaze to you, he sees apprehension in your eyes. “Did you like it?” he enquires.

“It’s really good, don’t get me wrong,” you assure him quickly, “I just think… maybe it’s missing one or two things.”

“Like what?”

“Mmm…” you cock your head to the side, “we both know Soonbok is a fan of nuts, peanut butter is her usual go to but she likes others too- what if we finely chop some pecan or walnut and add that in somehow?”

“That could work,” Johnny nods.

“Do you mind if I take a crack at it?” you ask.

Johnny laughs. There are very few people he’ll allow to use his kitchen, and luckily you’re the one at the top. You’ve been cooking here for so many years that he doesn’t have to guide you to anything, you stand up and immediately go in search of details to make your french toast masterpiece come to life, and Johnny happily takes a back seat while he finishes his own creation.

You go for a bag of pecans, dumping a small amount onto a cutting board before you begin to finally chop, leaving an array of different sizes of chunks. Soonie has always been a texture specific child, and Johnny loves how you incorporate all the little quirks of his daughter into your cooking like this.

In a pan with some butter, you begin to toast the nuts, getting prepped on your bread by using the already made batter he’d created earlier. As you put the toast into the pan and check the nuts, you cock your head to the side again, an endearing trait you do when you’re thinking.

“What about oats?” you suggest.

“Do whatever you think is best,” Johnny encourages you, heading to the fridge to grab some orange juice and a nearly empty bottle of prosecco he’d opened for a recipe two nights ago.

Johnny watches you add oats to the browning pecans while he makes mimosas, and in no time at all, you’re plating the french toast, with a spoonful of the newly toasted additions, and a few spoonfuls of brown sugar glaze.

“There,” you announce, bringing the food to the table. “I added a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar to the buttered nuts and oats while you were making drinks.”

“Cheers,” Johnny grins, lifting a forkful of your creation to gently touch it to your own.

As soon as he bites into it, Johnny knows that this is a winner. The crunch of the nuts, and the oats- the added fats of the butter- the slight taste of cinnamon on the toppings-

“Wow,” he breathes, leaning back in his chair. “Soonie really wasn’t joking when she said you’re the best breakfast chef in town.”

“Stop it,” you laugh. “You made the glaze! We did this together!”

Johnny goes for a second bite. “This is the stuff that will stick to your ribs,” he muses, not caring that the calorie content was just inflated by the addition of butter and nuts, “Good ol’ comfort food.”

“No, John, you’re a head chef now, this is comfort cuisine,” you correct him with a grin.

Johnny swears your eyes are sparkling as you smile at him, and it makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s times like these that he realizes just how smitten he is with you. You’ve been there for him, through thick and thin. There’s no way he’d be where he is now without you, and he’s not even sure if you know the full extent of it.

But at the same time, because you’re his rock, Johnny doesn’t want to overstep. He can’t lose you, not now, not ever. Soonie lost her mom to a car crash when she was three, and there’s no way in hell Johnny’s going to do something that could potentially make her lose you too.

Four

“Hey, you,” you grin, finishing pouring your glass of wine while you put your favourite chef on speaker.

“Hey, yourself,” Johnny responds, and you can practically hear the smile in his own voice. “Listen, uh, I need to ask you for a favour.”

“Shoot.”

“Two of my line chefs called in today before dinner- pretty sure they’re both hungover or something. Anyways, I’m staying, and it’s a busier night than projected- Soonie is done Girl Guides at seven, and I know it’s your night off, so if you’re busy I can find someone else, but-”

“I’ve got you,” you interrupt him. “Girls night with my favourite girl is a better plan than I had.”

“Really? You sure?”

“A hundred percent.”

“I’d say I owe you one, but at this point, I probably owe you more like a thousand.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you laugh, pouring your wine back into the bottle. “Take care of work, and I’ll take care of our girl.”

A couple hours later, you’re in Johnny’s familiar kitchen, making spiced popcorn and virgin cocktails. Soonie wants to be a chef, just like her dad, and she’s getting better every day. You love giving her soft instructions and lending a helping hand on bigger jugs of juice that her tiny fingers can’t quite hold.

Soonbok has a love for all things disney and music, and although this is probably the third time you’re watching it with her, the two of you settle in for the live action Ariel.

While Johnny is primarily a chef, back when you were in culinary school, he used to sing to himself when he was working. He was always quiet, but loud enough for you to listen to his beautiful voice. Like her father, Soonbok has a way with music, and you adore watching the eleven year old belt out Ariel songs.

She’s tuckered out from Girl Guides however, and about halfway into the movie she cuddles up next to you, her eyelids beginning to droop.

When Johnny comes home as the film is ending, Soonie is fast asleep, and you quickly motion at him to be quiet as he steps through the door.

Johnny is careful as he sets his keys and bag down, kicking off his shoes and putting away his jacket. He tiptoes toward the two of you. “How long has she been out?” he whispers.

“Half an hour or so,” you respond in a hushed tone. “How was work?”

He lets out a sigh. “Could have been better, but I’m home now. Should I get this little one to bed?”

You nod, watching the way Johnny bends down to gently lift his daughter off the couch. She stirs in his arms. “Daddy?”

“Hi, Soonie,” he beams down at her. “Did you have a good girls night?”

“Can y/n stay longer?”

Johnny’s eyes shift to you, and a smile forms on your lips. “I guess I can’t say no to Soonie, can I?”

“Here’s the deal, Soonie, y/n can stay longer, but I’ve gotta put you to bed. You had a long day, didn’t you, sweet girl?”

“Uh huh.” Soonie yawns, cuddling closer to Johnny’s chest, and the sight makes you melt.

Johnny carries her out of the living room and up to the second level. He takes some time tucking her in, and then he comes back down to join you, holding two beers in his hands.

“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.

“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”

“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”

“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink.

Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.

“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”

“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”

You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue.

“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”

You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?

You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.

But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.

Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.

Five

It’s a pretty slow day after the lunch rush, so Johnny is sitting in the back office with Doyoung while they pick at their food. They often eat together once things settle down, and today is no different.

What is different, however, is the topic of conversation Doyoung brings up. “How’s y/n doing?” he asks, taking a bite of his salad.

“She’s good. She helped me lock in a french toast recipe for Soonie’s birthday, so that was pretty helpful.”

“That’s nice,” Doyoung nods, “but I’m more interested in what’s going on between the two of you.”

“What do you mean?” Johnny asks, looking up from his schezwan beef noodle bowl.

“I mean, you two have been friends for a long time. There’s a lot of history there.”

Johnny’s shocked that Doyoung is bringing this up. Out of all of the chef’s coworkers, he had not pegged Doyoung as being the man to bring up relationship gossip, and the whole thing takes him off guard for a moment.

“We’re good friends,” Johnny says finally.

“I know that,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “What’s holding you back from being more? It’s clear how much you two care about each other.”

Johnny looks down at his food, using his chopsticks to play around with a red pepper. “We do care about each other,” he confirms. “She was there for me with Soonie when no one else was, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”

“So why don’t you tell her how you really feel about her?” Doyoung presses. “It’s obvious in the way you look at each other- a smart woman like y/n, I’m shocked she hasn’t figured it out for herself by now.”

“I think, because of our history, there’s this… invisible line,” Johnny tries to explain. “Things are good the way they are now, if I try to mess with that… I could lose everything. And I wouldn’t just be losing it for myself, I’d be losing it for Soonie too.”

Doyoung lets out a breath, turning to face Johnny. “I get that it’s hard, but, you’ve got two paths ahead of you. If you give it a try, it could either end well, or badly. But if you keep yourself in this weird middle friend zone place, it’s like you’ve created a house at the crossroads, and that will never lead you anywhere.”

“When did you become so wise about love?” Johnny scoffs.

“Sumi has helped me with it,” Doyoung admits. “I met her here, we started off as friends. I’m her manager, so I had my own reasons for never taking the leap. I had my own house at the crossroads.”

“What made you finally give it a try?”

“She was there for me when my dad died,” Doyoung frowns. “Anyone can be there for you when things go badly, but when a woman truly gives her all to making things easier on you- it’s not something that should be ignored. After everything you and y/n have been through, you both deserve to give it a try.”

“How are you so sure she’d want to give it a try?”

“Because she looks at you the way you look at her.”

Six

Cooking with Johnny might just be the easiest thing in the world. You’d thought that, due to it being Soonie’s birthday, maybe tensions would be high, but as the two of you collaborate in the kitchen, bumping hips and easily communicating, things feel as they always have: easy.

Within fifteen minutes, the two of you have seamlessly cooked thirteen breakfasts for yourselves, Soonie, her four friends, and six adults… well, seven, if you include the Boken Avocado Bennies you’d whipped up for Doyoung.

While there are a number of staff puttering around doing pre-opening tasks, it’s Doyoung who takes the time to help you and Johnny bring all the food to the table. You love watching the stoic manager announce the Soonie-inspired brunch food names, and it’s clear that Soonbok is also enamoured by the shift in Doyoung’s countenance.

Before everyone begins to eat, you take a group picture on Johnny’s phone, loving the massive smile on Soonie’s face.

As you’re about to sit down, Johnny asks one of the other moms to take a picture of just you, him and Soonie. With the two of you on either side of the birthday girl, you can’t help but think that this feels like a family picture.

In a way, Johnny and Soonie are your family- but in the same breath, you’re cognisant of the fact that - had circumstances been different - it would be Soonbok’s mom in this picture right now, and not you. These are shoes that can simply never be filled, no matter how much you wish you could.

The thought isn’t one you like to hold on to, and it’s a thought that’s popped into your head innumerable times throughout the years. Taking your seat next to the birthday girl, you watch her try the french toast, her eyes lighting up.

On top of her own food, Soonie picks at yours and Johnny’s. Both of you are more than happy to share so she can taste more than just one of the special items Johnny had concocted for her.

Brunch is full of laughter and girlish giggles that light up the deserted restaurant. It’s clear how important Johnny has made Soonie feel today, and that brings you more joy than you could ever express out loud.

As things wind down, you and Johnny begin clearing plates to the dishpit. The two of you are shoulder to shoulder, and you’re overwhelmed by an odd sense of longing that you can’t quite describe.

Johnny turns to you, mouth opening as if he’s about to say something- but as servers pass behind you, it’s clear that there’s no room for him to say whatever it is that he wanted to say to you.

You clear your throat, watching a line chef pop up next to Johnny to stack the dishes for dishwasher prep. “You should go back to Soonie,” you tell him, “I’ll finish up with the cleanup.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course, it’s Soonie’s day, go be with her.” You offer him a smile, and Johnny reacts by reaching out to squeeze your hand.

Without another word, he leaves you to your thoughts, and the feeling of need that’s growing steadier and steadier in your chest.

Seven

Johnny doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. Soonie’s birthday was yesterday, and today's day shift had been quite slow. He’s feeling restless with Soonie over at a friend’s place tonight, and he tries to drown himself in liquor- whether it be to chase away the loneliness or to gain courage, he’s not sure, but by nine oclock, Johnny finds himself dialing up your number.

“Hey, you,” you answer.

“Hey, yourself,” he grins. “Watcha up to?”

There’s a pause, and Johnny can hear people in the background. “I’m out actually.”

“Oh?” Johnny’s spirits dampen. “Out on another hot date?”

“Not so hot actually.”

Johnny bites at his lip. “I’ll let you go anyways.”

“It’s alright, I stepped out when you called. Do you need something?”

“I guess…” Johnny takes a breath. “I got into the liquor-”

“Say no more, I’ll be right over.”

Eight

“So…” Johnny grins as the two of you head into his kitchen, “how did the date go?”

You scoff, watching him pour a glass of wine. “How do you think it went? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“I mean… I am pretty hard to compete with,” Johnny flashes you a sexy grin… and proceeds to knock over the glass of wine. “Shit- fuck!”

“Listen, you go take a seat, and I’ll clean this up,” you laugh, watching him lumber toward the sofa. You make quick work of the mess, and when you’re done, you approach him in the living room.

“Come sit,” he prompts, patting the spot right next to him.

“Someone’s feeling awfully cuddly today,” you giggle when he grabs your hand to pull you down where he wants you, leaving no space between the two of you.

“What can I say? I’m a cuddly drunk.”

“I can see that,” you note, assessing him.

His gaze dips to your lips, and your skin tingles.

“Thank you for yesterday,” he says quietly.

“I told you, I was happy to help for Soonie’s special day.”

“It’s not just that,” he insists, “you’re always happy to help. I seriously-” he swallows thickly, “I seriously couldn’t have done anything I’ve done without you.”

“Don’t be so self deprecating,” you warn him, gently pushing his shoulder. “You’d have gotten anywhere you wanted, with or without me.”

“I still don’t have a food truck,” Johnny pouts.

You’d thought maybe he’d given up on that dream- although you’ve held onto hope for Johnny, more than he knows. “Now that you mention it, actually,” you say, pulling out your phone, “I’ve been looking at food trucks for sale online for a minute, and-”

Johnny’s gaze softens. “You’ve been researching for me?”

“Just a little,” you brush it off, trying to find the listing that you’d saved three days ago. “I found this decent looking one at a good price-”

“I think I love you.”

“Huh?” you freeze.

“I didn’t mean it,” Johnny says immediately, and your heart sinks. “I don’t think I love you, I know I do.”

“John, please, that’s the liquor talking.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he insists. “Look, you’ve always been there for me. We work together- and not just because we’re both chefs. Something about this,” Johnny gestures between the two of you, “it just works, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”

“Yeah?” You decide to play a little coy, seeing as this confession is coming from a drunk man. “And who else sees it?”

“Doyoung, for one.”

“Doyoung?” You let out a laugh. “Have you been gossiping about me with him?”

“I swear I didn’t bring it up,” Johnny defends himself. “Doyoung said I look at you with love, and that… that you look at me the same way.”

“Well… maybe Doyoung needs to get his eyes checked?”

“Don’t play with me,” Johnny begs, pulling you closer. “There’s always been a line between us, one we’ve both been too scared to cross… but, I think-”

“Now you’re crossing it,” you finish for him. “What made you want to do that?”

“Soonie’s birthday,” Johnny admits. “Our little family picture.”

“Our family picture,” you repeat, melting inside at the fact that he’d viewed the photo in the same light you had.

“Yeah.” Johnny nods. “Our family. Mine, and yours.”

His hand finds your thigh, and you can’t help but reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across his angular bones. “I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.

“We don’t have to say anything,” Johnny assures you. “Just kiss me, and we can forget about the world for a minute.”

Your heart is racing in your chest as you hesitantly close the distance between your lips. It’s a gentle first kiss, but it soon grows hungry, and you’re not sure if that’s due to his appetite or your own.

His tongue swipes across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, letting out a soft sigh as you get lost in the feeling of the man who’s been your best friend for years.

His hand on your thigh squeezes, and before you know it, he’s pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dig into the sofa on either side of him, and you’re hesitant to fully sit down- a kiss is a kiss, but grinding on Johnny is something else entirely.

“Johnny,” you whisper, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, wondering how you got into this situation.

“Yes, honey?” He presses kisses along your throat that have tingles shooting up your spine.

“You’re drunk,” you say finally.

“If I’d known you liked me too, I would have done this ages ago.”

“It’s not about that,” you laugh. “It’s about the fact that you’re drunk, and I want you sober when we do this.”

“Do what?” he teases, squeezing your hips, his tongue grazing over your jugular.

“You know what,” you retort with a huff. “Look, you’re right about the line neither of us wanted to cross.”

Johnny pulls away from your throat, looking up at you. “Huh?”

“The line. The unspoken line. All these years, something has been there, between us- but, we both respect your wife, we respect Soonie- I think… I think the time is right for this now, well, not right now, but, once you’re sober again.”

“You’re right,” Johnny concedes.

“How about we watch a movie, then we can go to sleep.”

“You’ll stay over?” There’s a boyish excitement in his voice and it makes you melt.

“Uh huh.”

“Will you stay in my bed with me?”

“Just for cuddles, but only if you promise to drink a bunch of water before we sleep, I don’t want you hung over in the morning.”

Johnny grins. “You got it, honey.”

Nine

Johnny wakes up next to a warm body, and it’s the first time in years. Your presence is the only thing that proves to him that last night wasn’t a dream, some twisted fantasy- No, you’re real, and you’re here, and you’d kissed him back-

He stays cuddled with you for a while, basking in the glow of being in love, truly in love, and finally able to admit it to himself. It’s been so long since his wife, and part of him had forgotten the feeling- maybe that’s why it had taken years for him to realize how much he adores you.

After a while, Johnny decides he needs some water- and he wants to make breakfast for you. He wants to spoil you the way you spoil him.

Johnny is careful as he exits the bed, taking one last look at your peaceful face before heading down to the kitchen.

It’s easy for Johnny to get lost in the act of cooking, focusing on bacon at first before switching to eggs. As it was a few days ago, the smell of food wakes you up, and soon you’re joining him by the stove.

“Watcha making?” you ask, wrapping your body around his.

God, the feeling of you is- fuck, he can’t even describe how good it is.

“Wanted to make you breakfast,” he tells you, plating your food first. Once he has you settled and sitting, he quickly throws together a breakfast sandwich for himself.

“You and your sandwiches,” you laugh, digging into your bacon and eggs.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, coming to join you.

“So well,” you tell him, bumping your knee against his own, “even if someone snores.”

Johnny can only laugh, he’s dealt with Soonbok complaining about his loud snoring for years. “How are the eggs?”

“Good!”

You’re so chipper this morning, and he loves it. Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich- you’d cooked the eggs at the brunch birthday two days ago, and he realizes Soonie was right. “Your eggs are better,” he muses.

“I’d planned on making breakfast for you, but you jumped the gun, big guy.”

“I wanted to pamper you for a change.”

“Cooking is my love language,” you tell him. “I’m excited to make you breakfast more often.”

“I like the sound of that,” he smiles.

“When’s Soonie come home?”

Johnny checks the clock on the stove. “In an hour or so.”

“As much as I’d love to see her, I think maybe it’s better if I’m not here when she gets home,” you say thoughtfully. “She’s a smart girl, I bet she’d be able to tell that something is up.”

“She definitely would,” Johnny confirms. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you that much if you stick around.”

You giggle, reaching over to squeeze his knee.

“How are you feeling about last night?” Johnny asks.

“I’m feeling good, how about you? Still remember all of it?”

“In perfect detail,” he breathes. “Although… a little reminder wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you tease as he leans in, cupping your face so he can press his lips to your own.

God, you’re such a good kisser. It just works. It’s hard for him to even pull away, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

“Take me out on a date,” you say.

“Hmm?”

“A date,” you repeat. “Just because we’ve known each other for years doesn’t mean we can skip steps.”

“I respect that,” Johnny nods. “I’ve got a busy week, and it will have to be a night where Soonie is out, but… we’ll make it work.”

Johnny’s so certain it will work, because things between you have always worked, and he can’t wait to see where this takes you.

Ten

It’s been a week, but finally Johnny found time for that date night. Soonie is out with friends again, so it’s the perfect opportunity to get some alone time with the man who’s been on your mind constantly.

He picks you up in his old Dodge truck, compliments your outfit, and refuses to tell you where you’re going or what the plan is.

When you arrive back at his place, you’re honestly not even surprised. “Let me guess, you took me to the best chef in town?”

“You know all my lines, honey,” he grins.

“So, chef, what’s on the menu?”

“I thought maybe you’d take a seat and let me cook for you.”

“As if I’d take a back seat,” you scoff. “What are we making?”

Johnny had made hand made fettucini before he’d come to pick you up. You let him take lead in making a white wine, garlic cream sauce with button mushrooms, spinach and crispy prosciutto, but you insist on being his sous chef and taking care of the chicken.

The smell is heavenly, and as he finishes it all off with fresh herbs, you think you start to drool a little.

“For a guy who claims to specialize in sandwiches of all things, you’re pretty good with italian,” you muse as you take your first bite and nearly moan.

“I’m pretty good with a lot of things,” Johnny laughs.

“Look at you being all cocky.”

“You love it.”

He’s so right.

The two of you chat and laugh together while eating. It’s one of the best meals you’ve had in a very long time. When dinner is over, Johnny suggests a movie. As the two of you settle on the couch, he prompts you to come closer, and soon, the two of you are cuddled together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He’s so warm and comforting- you find yourself dozing off a little, although, maybe it’s something of a food coma from all the pasta.

Johnny brings his lips to your ear, and you shiver when he asks, “Should I carry you to bed, honey?”

Part of you wants to tell him you’re not Soonie and you won’t be calling him daddy any time soon- but another part of you wants to lean into this. It’s been so long since you felt like you could be babied, and if anyone is going to bring out that side of you, it’s going to be Johnny.

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask, cognizant of the stairs he’ll have to climb.

“Have you seen my arms? I won’t drop you, honey, I promise.”

You allow him to scoop you up, and you feel like a giggling school girl again as he takes you up to his room. “Do you have a shirt I could wear to sleep?”

“Choose anything,” he tells you. “When you’re changed, you can join me in the bathroom, I went and got a toothbrush for you.”

Before you know it, you’re cuddled in Johnny’s bed, wearing panties and one of his big shirts. He’s pressed to your back, his mint tinged breath warm on the nape of your neck. There’s no pressure for sex, no pressure for anything other than the situation at hand, and you can tell you’re both very content with it.

Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of a man who’s been a cornerstone of your life.

It’s a deep, dreamless sleep, and it passes in the blink of an eye. You awaken to light beaming through his window, a warm body behind you, and something hard pressed against your ass.

You laugh to yourself- morning wood isn’t something men can help. Even so, you stir a little, adjusting to get more comfortable.

Johnny releases a sleepy groan.

You stay still, not wanting to wake him, but it feels like the damage is already done when he wraps you tighter in his embrace. “Morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Hi,” you respond lightly.

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to shift, and you feel his body tense when he does so. “Fuck,” he goes to pull away, “sorry, I uh-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, grabbing his forearm so he can’t move away, “keep cuddling me.”

Johnny returns, flush against your back, his hard cock pressing even more firmly to your ass.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” he asks.

“More than okay with it.”

“Yeah?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your throat. “Are you okay with this, too?” Johnny mumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

“Uh huh,” you sigh, wiggling your bum back against him and arching your neck to give him better access.

His hand finds your hip, gently squeezing you through the shirt you’re wearing. His lips are soft against you, but there’s a need in his motions too, and he begins to grind against your ass.

You let out a groan when he finds the sweet spot just below your ear, and he licks at it, making you moan louder.

“Are we going to do this?” he asks, nipping at your earlobe.

“Fuck it, yes.” You can’t hold back anymore, you turn in his embrace, quickly mounting him and smashing your lips to his own.

Johnny grins into the kiss, holding your hips while you settle on top of him, grinding down against his clothed cock while your tongues begin to clash.

His kisses have you seeing stars, your mind going blank except for him.

Soon, his hands slip under your shirt, slowly grazing up your sides. “Can I take this off of you?” he asks.

You open your eyes to look down at him, studying his pretty lips and his chocolate eyes.

Instead of responding, you sit up, grabbing the hem of the oversized T and lifting it over your head, tossing it to the side and baring yourself to your best friend for the first time.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, gaze falling to your tits. His hands stay at a respectable location on your hips, and you grab one to lift it to your breast, adding pressure so he knows he’s allowed to give you a test squeeze.

Johnny begins to massage you, and you throw your head back, releasing a groan, swiveling your hips against him.

His thumb brushes over your hardened nipple and you mewl loudly, core throbbing from the stimulus.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, propping himself up so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

You cup the back of his head, keeping him on your chest while he worships you. His other hand finds your neglected breast, gently pinching and massaging while he sucks on your sensitive bud.

“John-” You don’t even know what to say, you’re entirely wrapped up in him.

You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch.

Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.

Johnny pulls away from your breasts, cupping the back of your head and drawing your lips to his again. “We should take our clothes off,” he suggests.

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all week,” you laugh.

He helps you off of him, and you lay next to each other for a moment, both fumbling to get naked. As soon as you’re fully nude, Johnny rolls on top of you, slotting between your thighs. His lips find yours again, and his free hand trails down your body, teasing through your pussy lips.

“You’re already so wet,” he muses.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” you admit.

“Me too,” he assures you, capturing your mouth with his own while he teases a finger into your hole. You push your hips up, wanting more, and you latch onto his strong shoulders, moaning into the kiss.

Johnny’s a big man, and his finger is enough to have you wriggling below him. “Easy, honey,” he grins, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. “Gotta stretch you open.”

“Fuck,” you groan- does this man read erotica in his spare time? How is a thirty year old, single dad, this well versed in dirty talk even though you’re pretty sure he hasn’t been laid in forever?

He adds a second finger, curling them to find your gspot. As he pumps his hand, lips pressed to yours in a mad frenzy, you can hear your wetness with each motion.

It feels unreal- have fingers alone ever done a number like this on you?

Johnny twists his hand a little, knuckles dragging along your sensitive inner walls. It’s like he’s trying to carve out a space for his cock, although, you know now that this won’t be enough. He’s thick and throbbing on your hip, his length so large you think he might just blow your entire back out when he slips it into you.

Even though you’re eager to be - for lack of a better word - impaled on him, Johnny takes his time kissing you, his fingers continuing their motions. “Wanna rub your clit for me?” he asks, moving his mouth to your neck. “I want to watch you cum.”

Your toes curl at his words, and you bring your hand to your pussy, drawing circles on the sensitive bud while he continues to stroke your inner walls.

Your core throbs around him, whimpers of pleasure escaping you.

“You’re being so good for me, honey,” Johnny tells you, making your insides flutter even more from the sincere words of praise.

Cumming hasn’t always been the easiest thing in the world for you. There are many partners you’ve had who never had the wherewithal to get you there- but somehow, Johnny just knows you. Or maybe, it’s because he knows you- because you feel safe with him, that you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

It also helps that it’s your own fingers on your clit, you know exactly what you like, what pressure, what motions- the digits working you open are just an added bonus that have you seeing stars as you make your way to your peak.

“John,” you gasp, tits pushing up toward his chest when your back arches. “I’m gonna-”

“Let it out for me,” he encourages you softly. “You deserve it.”

“I deserve your cock,” you whine, shocked at your own blatant neediness.

Johnny only laughs. “After,” he assures you, “I promise.”

A few more circles of your clit has the cord in your stomach snapping, your orgasm washing over your like warm summer waves. Your entire body tingles with delight, gasps leaving you as your pussy fully throbs around his fingers, your clit pulsing with desire.

“So pretty,” he whispers, bringing his lips to yours.

From the way he smiles against your mouth, you can tell he doesn’t care that you’re moaning so much he can hardly kiss you.

It’s a closeness you’ve never felt before, and he helps you through your orgasm until you’re pulling your hand away in favour of grabbing his shoulders.

Johnny takes his fingers out of your core, and you watch under hooded eyelids as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean and releasing a groan. “Everything you do tastes better than what I bring to the table.”

You laugh. He’s such a fucking chef.

“Some might even say it’s…” you stifle a giggle, “Finger licking good.”

Johnny lets out a laugh, eyes lighting up. God, you love this soft, laughter infused sex- you’ve never experienced anything like it.

You grab the back of his neck, drawing his mouth to your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and there’s something so erotic about it. He moans loudly, rubbing his cock between your wet pussy lips.

The tip of his cock is stimulating your clit and it sends jitters through you. You can feel how soaked you are, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this ended with a wet patch on his bed from how turned on you’ve been throughout this whole experience.

Johnny seems intent with grinding against you, but you’re lacking patience today, and you reach between your bodies to grab his cock.

Johnny breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down at where you’re gripping him. He doesn’t say anything, his gaze shifting back to your own. There’s a question in his eyes, and you’re both aware that this is the final line. Once you cross this, there’s no going back.

You bring his cock to your wet hole, and with very little effort, you help guide the head of his cock inside of you.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans immediately, fists bunching at the pillow on either side of your head. “You’re so tight- are you sure you’re good with this?”

“You’re just- fuck,” you whimper as another inch sinks into you, “you’re just big!”

“Maybe you’ll have to get used to it,” he grins, pushing deeper.

You moan loudly, clawing at his shoulders. “Maybe I will,” you gasp.

He brings his mouth close to your own, until your lips are just brushing, eyes meeting when he says, “I’m looking forward to it.”

As he kisses you, he pushes fully into your warm, wet, throbbing core. His hips are flush to your own, and you swear no one’s ever been this deep inside of you.

Your legs shake on either side of his hips, body suspended in this odd purgatory-like place between extreme pleasure, and an uncomfortable feeling of being stretched more than you’ve ever been stretched before.

“Are you good?” he asks, lips moving to your cheek while you struggle to aclimatize to his cock.

“Yeah,” you nod quickly. “Just- fuck me, it will be easier.”

“If you say so, honey.”

The first thrust has your toes curling, eyes clenching shut with pleasure. A sound that’s never come from you before leaves your lips- a sound you’ve heard in porn, but always thought was an overexpression.

Your fingers dig into Johnny’s shoulders, and he holds you close, mouth finding your neck while he begins to fuck you.

Although, would this be called fucking?

The fluidity of his motions- the way you’re clinging to each other- it feels more like making love, and your skin tingles with the realization.

“Johnny?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me you love me again, like you did when you were drunk.”

“I love you,” he says immediately, holding you even tighter. “I love you so much that sometimes it hurts.”

Your entire body both relaxes and is set on fire by his words, your core throbbing desperately around his massive cock.

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“Tell me you love me too,” he pleads.

“I love you too,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his face close to yours so you can look up into his eyes. “I love you too.”

Johnny’s hand finds your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip. Somehow, he hits even deeper now, and you wriggle below him, more sounds of pleasure escaping you and filling the room.

“You sound so good, honey- I won’t last if you keep squeezing me and moaning-”

“Then don’t last,” you gasp. “Want you to cum.”

“Where should I cum?”

“Inside- I’m on birth control, just- fuck, Johnny, cum inside.”

He groans, pressing his mouth firmly to your own, his tongue dancing along yours as his motions get even faster.

You’re clinging to him for dear life at this point, and when he slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, you nearly begin to cry from how good it feels.

“Love the way your pussy sucks me in when we play with your clit,” he tells you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck-

“Do you think you can cum for me again? I don’t want to be the only one cumming.”

“Yeah, yeah- fuck, yeah, I can cum again,” you whimper desperately.

“Let me know when,” he instructs, adjusting his motions ever so slightly so each thrust has his cock dragging against your gspot.

You let out a squeal of delight, your thighs shaking around his hips, stomach muscles clenching almost painfully-

“Fuck, John, I’m there- shit, fuck-”

Johnny shuts you up with his lips against your own, and for a second time, your orgasm hits you.

Your core clamps down incredibly hard on his cock, and Johnny groans deeply above you, fingers twitching on your clit. He keeps his pace, and a moment later, you feel his cum filling you up, coating your walls with warmth.

The feeling of his large length throbbing in your own oversensitive hole has your entire mind going fuzzy, and you kiss him like a woman lost, like a woman so completely in love that nothing else matters.

You ride out your orgasms together, until you’re both shaking. Only then does Johnny come to a stop on top of you, kisses turning to a more gentle nature as he holds you close.

“I love you,” he tells you again.

You smile, blinking up at your best friend. “And I love you.”

Epilogue

The two of you are in the kitchen cooking brunch. Johnny is pressed to your back, watching intently, asking all sorts of questions about how you cook eggs to make them so delicious and superior to his own.

“The secret ingredient is love,” you tease.

Johnny can only laugh, holding you tighter.

He’s so lost in you, that he loses track of time, and as the two of you are sitting down to eat, Soonbok walks through the front door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you, letting her little overnight bag slip to the ground.

“Oh, hi, baby,” Johnny stands up immediately.

“Hi, daddy,” Soonie says, allowing her dad to pick her up for a hug while her eyes shift to you.

“Did Sabrina’s mom drop you off?” Johnny asks, looking out the door to wave at Soonie’s friend’s mom as she drives away.

“As always, daddy,” Soonie laughs. “I didn’t know y/n was coming over.”

“Surprise,” you grin, also standing so that when Johnny sets his daughter to the ground, she can run to give you a hug of your own.

Once Soonie is done squeezing you as tight as her little arms can muster, she looks between you and Johnny. For some reason, Johnny feels his heart beginning to race, there’s a knowing in his daughters eyes.

“What’s going on?” Soonie asks finally.

“Y/N and I just had a little sleep over,” Johnny tries to explain, and the concept isn’t a new one, you sleep over frequently… in the guest bedroom.

“So…” a wicked grin appears on Soonbok’s face, “Does this mean you’ll stop trying to get me to call her auntie now?”

“What?” Johnny lets out a surprised laugh.

“You heard me, daddy,” Soonbok’s smile widens. “Does this… does this mean we’ll be a real family now?”

Johnny lets out a shuddery breath. In the years you’ve been helping raise Soonbok, Johnny has broached the idea of her calling you Auntie Y/N, as a respect thing, and his daughter has always refused. Had she seen the connection this whole time? Has this been something Soonbok has wanted ever since she was a five year old with an inquisitive mind and an even more discerning eye?

Johnny’s gaze shifts to you, and you flash him a warm smile.

“Yeah, baby,” Johnny picks up his daughter. “We can be a real family now.”

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! This was such a fun project for me, thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to write for Chef John, he deserved his happy ending :)

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🔮 preview. The man ordering can’t see you lying on the floor of the food truck. He has no idea what’s going on- and you feel like tempting fate a little. You bring your hand to your pussy, beginning to rub yourself through your pants, adjusting the vibrator ever so slightly as it buzzes inside you. Johnny nearly drops the tomato he’s holding, quickly tearing his gaze from yours. You’ve never seen him trying to focus this hard- and failing. What had been your torture initially, has just become his own, and you kind of love it.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a food truck), use of vibrator while helping a customer, vibrator as a makeshift gag ball, breast worship, fucking with half your clothes on, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, etc… I petnames. (hers) honey

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 230

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You love working with Johnny. Sure, it had been rough at first, getting his food truck on its feet, but it’s been two years, and with some insanely good marketing, you’re now running one of the top trucks in the city.

It’s a joy to watch Johnny fulfill his dreams every day- his odd obsession with sandwiches of all things has only added to your connection. Watching him smile and charm guests makes your heart swell with joy, and on the rare occasion Soonie comes to do the register and take orders, it feels like you’re just one happy family.

Today, however, is a weather disaster. The forcast had mentioned light sprinkles, but cuddled next to Johnny looking out at the torrential downpour, you both feel a little bamboozled.

“You know what would make this more fun?” Johnny asks.

“Customers?” you suggest.

“Yes, but also… I got you something.” The chef flashes you a sly smirk, and you pull away from his shoulder to asses him.

“Am I going to like where this is going?” you ask.

He was single for so long- and there’d been so many sexual things he’d missed out on during that time, but the two of you are making up for it every moment you have alone. You suppose this is a moment alone, so you’re not really shocked that his mind is in the gutter.

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