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#and they watch ryland in the ring with the devourer
kerra-and-company · 1 year
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Does Kerralind have any particular opinion of Rytlock? (@commanderhorncleaver)
Thanks a bunch for the ask!! :D And yes, yes she does.
Kerra, during the personal story, was kinda...friendly acquaintances with Rytlock, I guess? She didn't know him all that well, but also didn't dislike him and thought he was a pretty damn good fighter, and was more focused on bringing Destiny's Edge back together than on him individually. HoT was the start of them actively Not being on the same page--Rytlock was kinda in the "they belong to the dragon now" mode re: sylvari, and Kerra (as a sylvari) did not appreciate that, to say the least.* The fact that he wouldn't say exactly what happened in the Mists was also frustrating, but she'd mostly let that go until PoF.
After learning the whole story about Balthazar's release, Kerra is furious with him. That broke her trust in him entirely. She does believe that he didn't know who he was releasing, but considering the fallout and the fact that he did it entirely to relight Sohothin, it doesn't matter all that much to her that he didn't know. She assigns partial blame to Rytlock for all the havoc Balthazar wreaks in Elona (including the lives lost)--and for Vlast's death. (Kerra blames him a bit for her own death as well, but wouldn't say that out loud and barely acknowledges that even to herself.)
Rhi (her kid) awakens after LWS4. They don't meet Rytlock until a solid year/year and a half after that, and that's only because they're tagging along with their mom to the All-Legions Rally.**
I guess the gist of Kerra's opinion on Rytlock at this point is that he's a friend, but one where their relationship has a lot of baggage. She wants him to be happy, but that trust is never going to come back.
(bonus facts for the asterisks under the cut!)
* - I mentioned this here, but it's worth noting that Kerra takes Canach and Caithe with her into Mordremoth's mind at the end of HoT, and Caithe is someone else that Kerra went through a period of not fully trusting. Kerra and Caithe also were on rough terms for a decent bit, but while Kerra didn't trust Caithe not to keep things from her at that point, she did trust her to fight against Mordremoth. And she was very angry but wanted her sister with her regardless.
** - Kerra brings her kid to the rally, which also happens to be where we meet Ryland for the first time. Part of the reason Kerra and Rytlock are on as friendly terms as they are at this point is because of Icebrood and the fact that Rytlock is so focused on his son during it. There are also things that happen that aren't great for their friendship (the bit where Rytlock and Crecia fall fully victim to the whispers for a bit, for example), but the first time Kerra and Rytlock ever sit down and actually talk about personal things is during Icebrood, when he tries, with limited success, to ask for (very late and also definitely too late) parenting advice.
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caiuscassiuss · 5 years
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Homecoming (M)
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Pairing: NCT Johnny ♡ Female!Reader
Description: When a high school reunion drags you back from the bustling city to your hometown, you can’t help but feel inadequate compared your friends’ settled lives, who have thing you want most— kids. You may get your most desperate wish when your long-lost best friend sweeps into town, not quite the introverted nerd he was from 10 years ago.
Genre: high school reunion au smut | romance  WC: 16k Warnings: graphic smut (Dom! Johnny + Sub! Reader, dirty talk, !!!pregnancy kink!!!, unprotected sex, oral sex, rough sex, bulge kink, slight exhibitionism, footsie, slight cum eating, overstimulation), mentions of adultery
(A/N: I’m dedicating this fic to my bestie, my Ten to my Taeyong, my vanilla bean to my weird kinky shit: @kookyong. Thank you so much for supporting me through the creation of this fic and cheering me on when I felt down. Also, fuck you, you stole my idea of dedication before I even told you. Also, a huge thanks to @lovingyong for beta-ing a part of this story and providing such great feedback! I’d also like to thank @galaxybeeji and @aveluant1a for helping me translate some Korean.)
Also, please don’t have unprotected sex and stay safe.
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A sigh leaves your lips as you sip at your beer, basking in the electronic light of your phone in the dim, crowded bar. You started reaching over for another fry in the basket, but as you looked up from your phone you noticed there was less than a fourth of the fries remaining.
Apparently, you were steadily but surely devouring the fry basket no one had touched. 
Truly, you had no idea why you were here, sitting alone in a dark booth, watching your co-workers slowly lose their inhibitions as the night went on. The little get together your coworkers made took over the whole bar, filling it with laughter and yells all around.
You scrolled through more pictures of your friends’ perfect family lives, each photo of a white-picket house they were moving into or the welcoming their new child slowly piled weight onto your chest. While you have never been claustrophobic, you felt the walls and the people of this little dingy bar on 43rd street close in on you like a vice.
Scooting out of the booth, you stayed to the sides of the crowded room while attempting to navigate groups of tipsy adults. You inwardly cringed of how much you stood out, a dark spot staining the convivial atmosphere.
“Y/N?”
You whipped around wide-eyed to see Sara standing behind you, a slight sloppy smile plastered to her face as your middle-aged co-workers stared at her unabashedly. Young, beautiful, vivacious— Sara was the office catch, in her red slip and heels. She was dressed to kill.
“Hey! Sara,” you said awkwardly, twiddling with the flap of your purse. Even standing in your best slinky dress in front of her, you felt like a washed out, pale imitation of her.
“Where are you off to? The party just started!” she giggled, the shimmery sequins of her dress sparkling along with her smile.
You quickly tried to formulate a valid excuse. “I actually—”
A loud ring came from your cell phone, vibrating against your thigh.
“I just need to step out real quick to answer this call,” you smiled softly, hoping to convey you needed to take this urgent call as quickly as possible.
“Well, okay,” she pouted. You motioned to step out but a soft hand on your arm stopped you.
Turning back to Sara, she looked unusually serious as she gripped your arm slightly.
“Y/N, have some fun here, alright? You work so hard, you deserve a night out. Especially since you’re all alone-”
What you hoped was a smile was plastered to your face as you shook yourself out of her grip, your small “thanks” murmured into a loud bar unheard as you stepped out.
“Cynthia?” you asked into the phone, sitting on a chair on the terrace.
“Y/N! Oh my god, girl, how are you?” your high school friend squealed into the phone.
Wondering how she could be awake at this time as a new mom, you quickly realized she was a few hours behind New York time.
“Hey yourself, I’m doing well. How about you?” you asked softly.
“I’m doing well! I just had to tell you about Ryland! Our new son, remember? So-”
As she gushed over the first words of her newborn baby, you hummed and agreed at the appropriate moments. You marveled at how much she had changed since your high school days. This was a big difference from the wild girl from high school you knew, the girl with sharp cheekbones with an even sharper wit. Now, in her profile pictures she was rounded and aglow from the joys of motherhood. Your hand slowly rose to meet where your eye and cheekbone met, feeling the flesh that lay there. You had no laugh lines.
“-invitation?”
“Huh?” you asked, shaking out of your stupor.
Cynthia huffed. “Sily, I said did you get my invite on Facebook?”
“No,” you said plainly. You were lying, of course. You had seen the invite, but you scrolled past without even looking at the title.
A groan resounded from the phone. “Y/N, what am I supposed to do with you? God, it’s an invite to our high school reunion!”
Immediately, you wanted to say no. Like, hell no, but you thankfully held your tongue.
“Oh, really? That’s great, Cynthia, but I’m afraid I can’t go—”
“Wait! I haven’t even mentioned the date! It’s a few weeks from now, and you just have to go! Everyone does!”
Truthfully, you had no desire to go back to your old town and see your friends’ perfect families and their perfect kids, their perfect domestic lives. Your high school reunion was always popular with alumni as an event to flaunt how much they were making, how gorgeous their significant other was, how adorable their kids were. It was all one big clusterfuck of gossip and arrogance— not endearing at the slightest.
“Everyone misses you, Y/N. I know I do.”
“I miss you too but I don’t know, I’m really busy with work—”
“Shut up, Y/N. You’re just using that as an excuse since you’re too scared to face everyone.”
Ah, there’s her sharp riposte. Her wit had not dulled with her age, it seems.
“Cynthia—” you stuttered, unable to reply to her retort.
“You bet your ass I will fly out to New York, find you in that concrete jungle then drag you back to attend this goddamn reunion.”
“...I’ll see,” you relented.
“Great! So—” a baby’s cry resounded in the background. “Oh my gosh, I have to go to Ryland now! I’ll text you the details later, bye bye!”
The dark screen of your phone stared back at you as she hung up on you. You could only pray to some higher being this reunion wouldn’t turn out badly.
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The skyline of your hometown was unfamiliar to you.
There were a few shadows added, maybe some missing, maybe not. It is not the familiar curves and dips you always used to see when you glanced out your bedroom window.
Even passing through the main part of the town itself, it was so surreal. There were so many new buildings of glass and concrete that juxtaposed the old timey feel of the main street. New signs, new roads, new people passed by you in your Lyft ride.
You had to stop yourself from wondering over the town when you saw your breath fog up the windshield and you hastily jerked back. You hoped the driver didn’t see you looking like an excited 8 year old.
As the car slowly turned into your parent’s neighborhood, a wave of pure nostalgia hit you like a truck. As your eyes traced over the familiar houses on your street, a whole flood of innocent, child-like memories came back to you. All the times playing ball in the street with your neighbor, or even waiting nervously at the bus stop for the first day of school— long forgotten things from your past rose up.
Memories of tanned skin and wide smiles filled your memory, and you felt a pang with in your heart.
Johnny Suh.
“Uhm, ma’am? We’re here?”
You were shaken out of your memories but the sound of the Lyft driver looking at you nervously through his rearview window. 
“Oh, sorry sir! Thank you for the ride.”
Your two heavy suitcases rolled behind you as you strolled through your parents’ large driveway, and your heart started to beat nervously as you saw the front door slowly getting larger.
Hands trembling, you rung the doorbell and stared into the cloudy glass.
You heard flurry of footsteps pitter patter to the front, and you thought you were prepared when your mother opened front door, but turns out you weren’t.
“Y/N?”
Your mother looked as beautiful as ever, the crow lines underneath her eyes and the wisps of grey in her hair looking gorgeous. You haven’t seen her in years, and you could feel a gathering of tears in your waterline.
“Mommy,” you said, choking up a bit towards the end.
“My darling girl? My sweetheart? You’re here?”
“Yes, mom.”
“Y/D/N, come! Y/N is back!”
As your dad came tearing down the hall and his eyes focused on you, you saw his old eyes brighten and fill up with tears.
“My little turtle?”
“Hi daddy!” you smile weakly, giving a little wave.
“Come and give your dad a hug! I haven’t seen you in so long!”
As you rested in the embrace of your mother and father, you thought that maybe coming home wasn’t so bad at all.
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The afternoon sun beat down upon your bare shoulders, your wide-brimmed boater hat offering no respite.
You could only drink your ice-cold lemonade in hopes of cooling down and not feeling like a sweaty rat, fanning yourself with a menu and looking over the balcony.
“—and Ryland goes “I wanna pear, mommy!” and then Callie says ,”Ryland, that’s a potato.” It was a mango!”
Cynthia cracked up laughing, and you let out a few peals of laughter so as to not seem awkward. Every time Cynthia mentioned her darling kids, a burning jealousy gripped your heart until you could only see green. You truly wish you could enjoy your friends’ stories about how her kids could say the darndest things, but it only increased your yearning for kids tenfold.
“Well, enough about my life. How’s your job in the Big Apple? You’re one of those white collar types now, aren’t you?”
You sipped at the lemonade, wishing it was something much stronger. Your eyes swept over her appearance; the Facebook pictures were wrong, she was much more radiant in person. “You could say that, I guess. I travel a lot, though I’m only in New York half of the year. Usually I end up in the UK or Beijing. My work is very good to me.”
Cynthia sighed in faux envy, her hand resting over her swollen breasts from pregnancy. “You’re so cool, Y/N. It must be so fun traveling all over the world and seeing all these new things, tasting all the great food!”
You thought back to your large, empty apartment overlooking the Greenway that felt more like a showroom.The film of dust your housekeeper had to clean. The vacant adjacent plane seats. The uncomfortable fact you never had someone to go home to.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
After a few minutes of light hearted chat, your straw was sucking at your almost empty glass. God, you needed to pee.
“Sorry, Cy. I gotta go to the restroom for a minute, un momento!”
After relieving yourself, you stepped out of the restroom only to walk face first into a well-built chest. As much as you wanted to press your whole body onto his delicious one, it wasn’t exactly societally acceptable to be seen rubbing yourself against a stranger like a dog in the heat.
You (unfortunately) moved back, apologizing profusely. “I am so sorry, are you alrig...”
The last syllables left your mouth at the pace of molasses at your shock of seeing this god of a man in front of you. Tall, broad shouldered, with hidden muscles flexing under his casual white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his veiny forearms.
And his face. His face was like sin, chiseled as hell with pouty lips and sharp eyes. But as your gaze roamed over his features, you saw the scar near his lips that was barely visible. Only one person you knew had that unique scar, in its unique placement. He got it from accidentally knocking his trumpet too hard into his lips in sophomore year.
“Johnny?!” you gasped.
His face brightened up for a second, a brilliant gleam to his eyes until it went away in a flash.
“Y/N.”
His dark, tenor tone raised gooseflesh along your bare arms and shoulders. This was definitely not the Johnny you knew so well from high school.
After a moment of awkward silence (he didn’t look inclined to embrace you in a hug or even speak), and you spoke up. “Um, it’s great to see you. You look good.”
“Thanks, you too,” he said shortly.
A slight crease formed on your brow as you frowned lightly, not used to his coldness. If this were the Johnny you knew in high school, he would’ve wrapped you in a big bear hug with his long, lanky limbs flailing. He looked like he grew into those limbs.
“Well, do you have time to catch up? I haven’t seen you in a decade,” you breathed out.
He pursed his lips for a moment. “Sorry, I’m afraid I can’t. I’m only here because I’m meeting an old investor.”
It was only then you noticed his fancy watch and his shined Weston shoes, along with the dark leather briefcase he had in his hand. He looked like a Wall Street shark.
You were sure your face fell for a second, since he frowned minutely, until you felt a mask of pity snap into place. “That’s a shame. Well, have fun with your investor. See you… sometime.”
You bravely moved to pat his arm, and his face did not change even when you passed by him. You felt his intense gaze upon your retreating figure and until you were sure he couldn’t see you, sprinted through the crowded cafe to your balcony table with Cynthia.
“God, what took you so long?” she complained. “Our food already arrived.”
“Did you know Johnny Suh was in town?! I just ran into him!” you fake whispered.
Her brows lifted in surprise. “No? I didn’t see him on the Facebook guest list—”
You quickly pulled out your phone and opened the invite list. There, in dark navy font, was Johnny Suh.
“He was your best friend, right? The nerdy band kid you was always with?”
You felt the edges of your mouth pull down. “Hey, he’s not like that. He was a great and friendly guy! But I haven’t seen him in forever.”
“Well, how is he?”
“I-He looked like a damn god, Cynthia. He’s so different from high school. I couldn’t even recognize him,” you breathed out.
Her eyebrows only climbed higher in surprise. “Well, I’ll be. Was not expecting that.”
You snorted. “No one was, even his fucking best friend of 4 years didn’t.”
Cynthia took a bite of her salad, a look of contemplation upon her rounded features.
“Something wrong, Y/N?”
You hugged yourself and looked away. “Well, when I say he’s not like from before, he really isn’t. I wasn’t expecting him to be this cold.”
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This really wasn’t a situation you wanted to be in. At all. 
Sitting here in a pretty, floral sundress, sitting on a park bench in the midst of all your former classmates chatting with decked out strollers parked beside them.
You tried your best to not feel uncomfortable, as Cynthia looked like she was enjoying herself, but this was simply not your speed. You’d never expected Cynthia to be friends with the popular kids at school in the future, but look where she was now. Chattering and giggling with the rest of them.
Your discomfort was only enforced by how different you looked from everybody, how Cynthia’s PTA mom friends were dressed like they were about to go to play tennis. They knew each other well and could giggle and gossip, but you were in your own isolated world.
Last, but not least:
They all had children.
You stared enviously at the little angels ran around the playground, screaming and cavorting about. Some stumbled on their legs, new to the concept to walking, but some sat quite passively staring out in space. Reluctantly, a smile crept upon your face as a group of little ones played tag. They ran, weaving in and out between children and playground equipment. Your eyes followed a darling girl dressed in red, with her cheeks flushed in excitement as she zoomed around but then--wham!-- slammed into a playground pole.
A gasp escaped your mouth and you almost stood up to go to her, until a tired groan resounded from across from you as a tanned blonde lazily got up to attend to her child. Then, you were bitterly reminded that, no, that was not your beautiful child.
“Oh my, poor Kayla, that little darling is always getting hurt! Bless her poor heart!” a woman (Kendall, maybe?) dressed in neon pink cooed her concern.
You could only sulk in pathetic silence as you deliberately excluded yourself from the conversation, too uncomfortable and upset to truly feel at place. Hell, it wasn’t just because you were clearly an outsider, it was the way this group of women treated people they thought lower them. Sudden memories came to you of Johnny’s crooked smile fading as he realized they never thought of him as a friend. How his friendly, warm personality was used against him as he helped them with their homework but was never truly thought as “in”.  He cried so much that night.
“-you nowadays, Y/N?”
You whipped your head back around to see one of the nicer women, Katie, smiling at you as the whole group focused on your angered face.
“I’m sorry, come again? I’m afraid I was distracted.”
She laughed. “No problemo, sweetie. I just said ‘How are you?’ What’s going on in your life?”
A tight smile spread across your mouth. “I’m doing well right now. I work in New York as a private manager for J.P. Morgan,” you said politely, steeling yourself for the onslaught of questions.
“Ooh, so do you get paid well? Do you travel a lot?” someone butt in. You turned to see it was that one noisy theater kid (Anna?) and you decided to answer politely.
You tittered out a delicate laugh, the type you emit when you have to play nice with a client. You turn a modest smile Anna’s way. “I get by comfortably, and yes, I’m usually out of the country until someone here,” you side-eyed Cynthia, who waved cheerfully, “convinced me to come back for the reunion.”
Noises of approval came from the group, and they continued to ask polite questions until one sugary sweet drawl slithered in.
“Well, you sound so accomplished! This is all so amazing,” the tanned, voluptuous brunette 2 seats down from you piped up. “But, do you have anyone to share it with? Any hotshot hubby? Darling kids?”
You gritted your teeth, “No, unfortunately my job hasn’t allowed me to have much personal time.”
The other part of group turned away, wandering into other conversations and leaving the two of you relatively alone. She gasped dramatically, showing her immaculate gel manicure. “Are you even of the female kind?!” she playfully joked, but you could hear the undertone of smugness beneath.
Oh. Now you remember.
Victoria Edwards, that little bitch from the church group that always seemed to hate you. You had no idea what was her problem, especially since your parents had long been friendly with hers. Perhaps it was the fact you were amiable with everyone while many were tired of her spoiled attitude. Nevertheless, every chance she had to spite you or make things uncomfortable, she took it. Victoria did it with such calculated anger, you wondered what you ever did wrong to her. You never found out; she just had it out for you.
You shrugged modestly, careful to hide your trembling fingers in the folds of your dress lest you reach out a put her in a chokehold.
“But don’t you want kids? Who’s going to take care of you when you get older?” she continued, a look of faux pity on her heart-shaped face.
She just can’t stop, huh?
“Perhaps if everything slows down,” you replied carefully.
“Your eggs are going to get cold if you wait too long! I’ve heard those new fangled procedures for older women are very risky with a low chance of—”
“Thank you for the advice, Victoria. You seem very well-read on it— since your husband is always busy, you know— and you sound like you have some good experience under your belt. I’ll come to you for any help.”
You send a charming smile her way, and slowly rise up from your comfortable perch. Waving a goodbye Cynthia’s way, you continue to depart.
You refrain from sashaying away.
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Wandering through the paths of your town’s best park, you reveled in the feeling of truly being in nature for the first time in over a decade. New York had Central, sure, but your town’s really immersed you in the outdoors without sky-scraping structures looming threateningly over you.
Closing your eyes to feel the radiant sunshine on your skin, you were startled when a little girl’s cry broke the peaceful silence of the area. It sounded muffled, but not too far away from where you were from.
“Hello? Sweetie, where are you?”
The cries only grew louder, and your footsteps only grew more frantic as you searched through the undergrowth.
“Hold, I’m coming to get you—”
You burst into a secluded part of the path and see a familiar little girl in a yellow jumpsuit bawling her eyes. You spotted a blotch of red and brown on her pale elbow and you practically ran to her shaking figure.
“Oh, poor sweetie, are you okay?”
She pulled her head out from her knees and cautiously stared at you, her cries dying down. You recognize her immediately. She was Cynthia’s snarky little 5 years old, Callie.
“I want M-mommy,” she pouted, rubbing her eyes so adorably you couldn’t help but melt.
“Hey, hey, don’t worry it’s Aunt Y/N,” you smiled kindly at her.
“A-Auntie?” she sniffled.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
She put her arms up and you obliged, careful not to jostle her wound too badly.
“Let’s go to Mommy, alright? It’s gonna be A-Okay.”
She buried your face in your neck, her soft puffs of hair brushing your cheek and you almost melted right there on the spot.
“You wanna tell me what happened, baby?” you asked, taking a fast past towards the trail path.
“I twipped on somethin’,” she mumbled.
“I’m so sorry sweet girl, how much does it hurt?”
“Vewy bad.”
“Oh dear,” you whispered.
As soon as you saw a small shed that had a red cross over it, you quickly made your way on over. Sitting her on the counter gently, you smiled your best smile.
“Auntie’s gonna get you all cleaned up, okay?”
She nodded, and you took that as consent when you reached for a first aid kit. You immediately cringed, knowing the first step was going to be painful for both of you.
“Baby, to get rid of the red and black, I’m gonna have to clean it. It might sting a bit so can you a strong girl for me?”
You saw her stubbornness Cynthia frequently complained about, as she jutted out her lip and nodded resolutely.
Getting out the alcohol and pads, you gave her a warning as you lightly pressed, She made a noise of discomfort, and your head snapped up to see if she was any pain.
“Callie?”
“I-I’m fine, Auntie,” she mumbled firmly. 
Pinching her cheek playfully, you continued to disinfect the wound to reveal a light scrape on the skin of her elbow. Wrapping it up nice and tight, you patted her thigh.
“All done, baby,” you smiled. “Good job,” you pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Is she yours?”
You let out a little scream as you dropped the cotton pads. You snapped your head to see Johnny Suh in a sleeveless tank and jogging shorts, a light sheen to his muscles from his work out.
He has one fit bod, a part of you whispered. The veins in his toned forearms, his fit calves, the hint of his strong chest in his tank— 
There was a child next to you, for god’s sake!
Callie was laughing next to you, all her pain forgotten. Recovering from your shock, you rolled your eyes and playfully booped her on the nose, causing her to swat at it playfully.
“You silly little goose,” you chastized. She giggled even more, a beautiful smile split on her face.
A cough resounded from behind you and you remembered Johnny fucking Suh was behind you in the hottest workout gear you’ve ever seen and you blanched.
“So?” he raised an eyebrow, nodding towards Callie.
“Nope, this little sweetheart is Cynthia’s,” you said, squeezing Callie closer.
“Oh,” he merely said. You thought you detected a glimpse of relief on his face, before he moved it to that impassive mask.
His sharp eyes zoomed in on the bandage at her elbow and he frowned. “What happened? Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine, just a minor trip,” you soothed, picking up Callie from the counter.
“Auntie, who is that?” she inconspicuously whispered, causing you to muffle your laughter against her head. Johnny had a slightly amused grin on his face.
“That’s Mr. Johnny. He’s an old… friend of mine,” you informed her, shifting her on your hip.
“Hi Mr. Johnny! I’m Callie and I’m 6 years old!” Callie brightly smiled, holding up 5 fingers.
“Sweetie, you need one more finger to make six,” you giggled, as you uncurled another finger on her other palm to make six.
Johnny let out a chuckle and bent down to eye level with the child in your arms. “Hiya kid. You can call me Johnny.”
“How old are you Mister Johnny? You look… like… very old!,” Callie flails her arms, unable to properly express the number.
A small smile graced his face, a glow in his eyes as he looked at the small child in your arms. His face wasn’t the one you saw in the cafe. “Not quite, baby. I’m the same age as your mommy.”
Callie continued to entertain Johnny as the three of you walked down the path, towards where her mom was sitting. Eventually, the adrenaline of the whole experience of getting hurt and meeting someone new wore off, and she slept soundly on your shoulder.
An awkward silence permeated between you and Johnny, as you busied yourself with the scenery you had seen hundreds of times while he regressed to his cold persona. His presence next to you was too close yet too far, and you could feel how tense you were walking next to him. Sometimes, his arm would brush against your shoulder and it ignited a series of nerves you haven’t felt in years. It was like there was a furnace flowing underneath your skin. You curled Callie in your arms a bit tighter to stave off whatever he was doing to you.
You felt Callie rustle a bit and you knew that if she woke up, she would be extremely grumpy so you hummed lightly, bouncing her up and down in your arms while patting her back lightly. So focused you were in your task, the undecipherable look in Johnny’s eyes went unnoticed.
“How have you been?,” Johnny spoke, his low voice still so unfamiliar to your ears.
Your head snapped up toward his, him now towering over you when you had once been his height. His black hair lay across his eyes, his amber eyes intensely focused at you.
“I’ve been alright. Good,” you mumbled.
Another lengthy period of silence stretched between you.
“...I heard you were snatched up by J.P. Morgan when you graduated. That’s a good company,” Johnny said.
“Yeah, I’m now a private manager there. They’ve— the company—has been very good to me over these years,” you smiled slightly. It was true, the company had treated you well and given you a career, but you were still so...lonely.
“You look like you’re doing well for yourself.”
“....yes.” Silence. “You too— you look like you’re doing well.”
“I’d like to think so. I-, uhm, I’m the CEO of an online banking company— Banksy, have you heard of it?”
You were embarrassed to admit you gaped at him for a solid minute. Banksy? It was one of the trendiest e-businesses that had grown exponentially when the tech boom hit the market. The small start-up crested the wave until it had become a blue-chip name on the stock exchange. You even had an account with them!
“I-I have. I even have an account with them— you. Wow, Johnny, congratulations, that’s honestly amazing,” you smiled brightly at him, really and truly proud of your high school best friend doing so well for himself— no matter how cold he was to you.
A reluctant smile crawled over his plump lips, and you realize how much you had missed him. Yes, he was your best friend in every sense the word meant. He had been there and celebrated when you made it onto the softball team, offered you his hoodie when your period had come out of nowhere, even been there when you had gotten into an accident, senior year.
He had gotten there first. Not the police, not your parents— him, in his stupid Naruto pajamas, pulling up in his shitty 2001 Honda Accord and bawling his eyes out.
You hadn’t realized how much you relied upon him until you moved to college in another state, totally lost and confused without your best friend. Regret had always been an emotion associated with his name. You wished you had kept in contact with him, and even more so regretted you hadn’t ever truly revealed your...
“Thank you, Y/N.”
He opened up his mouth to say something, then immediately opened it again, but then paused. He looked like he was having a conflict within himself, but he shook his head and stared directly at you.
“Y/N, I’m sorry I couldn’t really talk to you that day with met at the cafe. It was a bit… rude in hindsight.”
You blinked in shock, mouth slightly ajar as you stumbled on the path.
“O-Oh, that? Don’t worry about it— I get it, we’re all so busy nowadays,” you offered a weak smile.
“No, I’m in the wrong here. We were… we were best friends for years, I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
His brows furrowed, you notice how much he has matured. Not just in his looks and the way he presented himself, it was the way he treated you. Don’t get it wrong (he was a sweetheart during high school), but he seemed more sure of himself, more able to take responsibility and address conflict. He had always had kind of avoided confrontation, the one part you hated of him you hated during high school, and would always just kind of awkwardly wait for any conflict to pass by and ignore it. He was so much Johnny, but so much less.
“Hey, it’s alright. We were both just not used to each other, y’know? You were probably stressed out at the time and took it out on me. There’s no need to get in a tizzy over that.”
“It’s just I haven’t seen you in years and I treated you like that—”
“Youngho.”
His Korean name sort of forced itself out of your mouth, hiding in the back of your throat all these years and finally popping back up when the man himself did. No one really knew of his other name other than his sweet mother and you, since your white-ass town would’ve butchered it until the point of disfiguration. Hearing you say it had always calmed him down.
“...fine,” he pouted. Maybe, just maybe, you saw bits of the old Johnny peek through the new mask, new body of his. “Man, I just feel terrible about it, though. It hasn’t left my mind in days.”
“Why don’t you make it up to me by getting a coffee with me sometime? I.. I’d love to catch up, Johnny. I’d really, really like to.”
His dark eyes met yours and yours widened.
“I’d love to.”
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By the time your unlikely trio reached the PTA moms plus Cynthia, it was already late afternoon. The sun had turned golden, the kids were getting tired, and the music from your town’s main street could be faintly heard.
“Y/N? Y/N?! Have you seen—” Cynthia called out frantically, waving her cell phone around but paused when she saw her child in your arms.
“Oh my god, Callie! Sweetheart!”
She sprinted across the sidewalk to immediately take the sleepy child from your tired arms. You could see the sunlight glint off her sweaty face, her unkempt hair frizzing out of her bun while she rocked Callie in her arms.
A slight grin graced your face as you tilted your head and took in the sweet mother-daughter moment. Unbeknownst to you, the man beside you had the same expression on as well, his hands itching to pull you closer.
“Cynthia? Sweetheart, did you find Callie?” someone shouted from the side.
A flock of moms headed towards your general direction, all carrying their kids with them and hoisting their heavy bags. As soon as they reached you, their eyes had wandered from Cynthia and zoomed in on the delectable piece of man next to you. You remembered how he looked with his toned and veiny arms on display in his loose tank, how good he looked with his hair windblown and disheveled and you inwardly smacked your head. He was basically bait for middle-aged women.
“Y/N, who is this? Would you care to introduce us?” the woman you thought was Kendall cocked out her hip, her eyes still fixated on Johnny.
“This is—”
“Am I late to the party? Well, thank god we found Ca— oh, who is this?”
Everyone’s favorite girl Victoria sauntered into your midst, her rambunctious kids following behind her.
You gave a tight smile. “Ladies, do you remember Johnny Suh from high school? This is him.”
The women present smiled brightly but did not seem to remember his name.
“I’m so sorry, I can’t seem to recall you from back then,” Victoria smiled apologetically. Your eyes zoomed in on the subtle movements she displayed— the slight stroking of her bare arms, the hooded lids— and you rolled your eyes.
“Hold on, weren’t you a trumpet in marching band? Vice president of the Anime Club?” Anne popped out, the glint of recognition in her eyes,
Johnny chuckles and shifted his weight. “Yeah, that was me,” he said, with a sort of secretive smile on his lips.
You watched with smug satisfaction as the ladies’ eyes collectively widened in disbelief, Victoria even going stiff for a moment before recovering. The boy they had excluded, used, looked down on, had grown into this man next to you.
“W-well, I’ll be! You’ve changed so much from back then,” Kendall (still unsure who the hell she is) grinned.
“You could say that,” Johnny smirked before pushing his hair out of his face, everyone’s eyes following his toned arms flexing.
Karma is so sweet.
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“Y/N, mom threatened to decapitate me if I didn’t invite you to dinner. Could you come over?”
Always the momma’s boy.
“You want to save this sexy face, right?”
There he was. That was the Johnny you knew.
“Mm, I don’t know. You could use a little ego beat down,” you laughed, bending down to open your suitcase.
“Don’t lie, love, you find me attractive,” he breathed, his voice rough. You bit your lip at the noise, gripping your shirt tight enough to create wrinkles.
A beat of silence passed before you moved to speak. “Dress code, Johnny?”
He snorted. “You could show up in pajamas and mom and dad would still be glad to see you.”
“Even in those silly Naruto pajamas you wore?” you teased.
“Hey! They were not silly-”
“- sure, anime club VP-”
“- and shut up, you stole them anyways.”
You sighed, remembering the orange pajama top stuffed in the back of a cabinet. “I mean, I could just show up naked if you’re not going to give me some kind of dress code.”
A muffled grunt met your ears as it sounded like he quickly moved the phone away from his mouth and your eyes widened.
“Ugh, sorry about that I...dropped something. But fine, woman, dressy casual. Mom just came back from church and she wants to see dad and I look at least somewhat presentable.”
“How is your mom, by the way? The church?”
“Both doing fine. Mom is running the back to school drive again. Remember Mark Lee? That kid in our youth group? He’s actually the Faith Formation leader now.”
“Markie? Oh my god, I missed him!” you smiled widely as you remembered the hyper boy 4 years younger than you, who was too kind and too pure for his own good.
“I’m starting to feel offended, what about me?”
“No, ‘cause he’s cute and you’re not, Johnny.”
“That right, ‘cause I’m sexy.”
“Oh my god.”
You both burst out laughing, the moment feeling so right it warmed your chest. You laid your floral dress on your bed and flopped down next to it.
“Well, if you’re done inflating your ego, I gotta get ready. Bye bye.”
“Bye, love.”
You sighed for the umpteenth time today and your eyes were drawn around your room. Colorful pictures, awards, and random stuff covered the walls and surfaces of your room. It looked so lived in, so alive and loved it hurt to think about going back home to your starkly empty bedroom. 
To be honest, you had no idea what happened. Cynthia liked to call you the ultimate girl next door, and while you vehemently protested it at the time, now you couldn’t help but feel she was right. Back then you thought you were antisocial as hell, but as opposed to the present, you were the life of the party. Clubs, church group, Johnny— you were so bright and bubbly back then, so many people surrounding you in your small hometown.
Now, as opposed to then, you lived life like clockwork. It wasn’t surprising, since after college you threw yourself into studying to be successful, forgetting everything and everyone that made you feel alive. Now, it was robotic, tiring, and lonely.
The picture at the very center of your room caught your attention. It was a lovely one, set during the late afternoon at your town’s park. You and Johnny stood close together, arm in arm, smiling brightly at the camera dressed to the nines.
Prom.
Picking up the frame, you brushed a reverent hand across the picture of the two of you. You both had no one to go with, and decided to go together since everyone else you knew paired off. You remember him awkwardly sliding the white corsage onto your wrist, you having to tip-toe to pin his to the lapel of his blazer. In hindsight, Johnny in senior year was starting to look like the Johnny of today.
That night was so fun. Dancing ‘til you had to take off your heels, Johnny pretending to spike the punch, stuffing your face with the fancy sandwiches provided— the classical prom experience. 
The highlight was when Johnny pulled you into dancing the last song of the night. The pair of you couldn’t look each other in the eye as you slowly swayed to the music, breaths hitching at the slight distance between each other. But at the end, when you two finally caught each other’s gazes, was exhilarating. He opened his mouth, his eyes shifting back and forth in nervousness.
You thought he was going to confess.
Instead, he seemed to stop himself and smiled weakly at you. That moment of what could have been, what you could’ve done, haunted you forever until you threw yourself into studying.
What would’ve happened if you had spoken up?
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“Y/N-ah!!! My love, come here!”
Heat diffused into your cheeks as you crossed the yard to the tiny woman under the patio bouncing with energy.
You struggled not to run and leap into Mrs. Suh’s arms while carrying a small roll cake from Tous Les Jours. But when you saw her wide smile and eyes folded up like crescents in happiness, you dropped your stuff on the ground and ran into her arms.
“Hi Auntie!” you murmured into her shoulder as you embraced her, tears coming into your eyes as you settled into her warm embrace.
“Oh, Y/N! I haven’t seen you for 10 years, don’t cry!” Mrs. Suh laughed as she held you at arm's length, eyes roving over your face. She wiped a tear off your cheek with her thumb and patted your neck.
“You’ve always been pretty, but now you’ve grown to be so beautiful.” She pinched your arm. “But why aren’t you eating more? Come, auntie will get you some good food.”
“I brought a roll cake, Auntie. I hope you like it,” you said, wiping tears off your face as she led you down the hall.
“Thank you, sweetheart. 여보 (Husband)! Y/N is here! Come out, come out!” she yelled down into the home office.
“Eh? Y/N?” Mr. Suh’s thin voice echoed from the office as a new wave of tears threatened to rise up.
Mr. Suh, a bit older and thinner than when you last saw him, opened the door to his office and a wide smile lit up his face.
“Give your uncle a hug!” 
As you gave your best friend’s dad a hug, more tears spilled onto your cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry!” Mrs. Suh said as she grabbed you into a side-hug, wiping off your tears.
“I just missed you guys so much,” you blubbered, struggling to compose yourself. Tears started to come to Mrs. Suh’s eyes and Mr. Suh laughed. These two had been more than your best friend’s parents, they had raised both of you through thick and thin. You were closer to them than most of your family when you were in high school, and they had never failed to welcome you into their home with open arms.
“Y/N, my wife has been missing her church helper. Bake sales don’t make themselves and she’s getting so old these days, you know?” he said, teasing his wife. 
She released you as she slapped his arm. “Yah! You know what, you can set up the table by yourself.. Go!”
You smiled at the utter love and admiration in their eyes as they teased each other. You had always hoped that one day, you could stare into your significant other’s eyes with an ounce of the love they have.
“Ah, Johnny’s probably still fussing with his hair upstairs. He’s missed you so much these days,” she smiled up at you.
“Moooommmm,” Johnny whined, coming down the stairs. “내 비밀 드러내지 마세요! (Don’t reveal my secrets)!”
“What? It’s true, John-ah,” she smiled at him she hugged his torso.
He turned to you, and you looked down, blushing. Johnny looked extra good today, in a casual Oxford and jeans combo that emphasized his proportions.
“Hi there,” he said, leaning on the railing. He gave you a discreet wink from above his mother’s head and affixed an intense stare on your person, his eyes roving up and down your body.
“H-Hey John,” you mumbled, your body curling on itself from his gaze.
“Well, I’m going to leave you two kids alone before my husband breaks something,” she said with a mysterious sparkle in her eye. As if on cue, silverware clattered onto a plate. “Oh dear,” she muttered as she sped down to the kitchen.
The two of you were left in silence.
“You look great today, Y/N.” Johnny smirking as he tilted his head towards you. Where did this confident Johnny come from?
“You too. Since when did you learn such good Korean?” you grinned, trying to lighten the mood. To be fair, Johnny only knew really basic phrases in high school and you were surprised to see unaccented Korean flow fluently from his mouth.
“Oh, I was kinda dropped into the Korea and told to swim, ha.”
“Cool.”
Another awkward silence.
“I missed you a lot, Johnny,” you whispered, foot tracing patterns into the floor.
“Me too, Y/N. I… I missed my best friend.”
You bit your lip as you opened your arms for him and he quickly wrapped his arms around your torso. Even with you standing on your toes, with his tall height he had to bend down slightly. So familiar, yet so different. Breathing in the scent of cologne and the clean linen of his shirt, you hoped he would not hear the pounding of your heart through the thin fabric of your dress.
The two of you stood there in the hallway, basking in the warmth of each other’s bodies until the noise of an iPhone shutter sounded.
Johnny lifted his head from your hair and you looked to see Mrs. Suh standing in the doorway, grinning at the screen of her iPhone which was directed at you.
“엄마 (Mom)!” he groaned, not letting go of you yet.
“I wanted to capture my two loves together, okay? Now give Y/N a pair of slippers, please,” she said, bustling off the kitchen once again.
You let go of him slowly, leaning back down onto the floor.
“You know, you look so different Johnny. I didn’t recognize you at first,” you said quietly, raising a hand to caress his jaw.
“I’ve changed a lot,” he responded, equally as soft. A grin split his face as he grabbed your hand. “You can ogle me later, let’s go before mom smacks me for not helping.”
His hand wrapped around your smaller one as he led you to the dining room table. You tried to go to the kitchen and help but used his grip to force you into a seat, citing you were a guest. You weren’t sure if he did it intentionally, but his hand stroked your arm as he let go of your hand to help in the kitchen, a caress so soft it sent shivers down your spine.
When dinner was served and everyone sat down, you could not resist hungrily scooping large portions of Mrs. Suh’s homemade kimchi-jjigae and Mr. Suh’s galbi onto your plate.
“Eat up, eat up, my love. I cooked your favorites.” Mrs. Suh smiled beside you.
You savored in the taste of her cooking as conversation languidly started, regular family chat you remembered from your many dinners here in high school. As you uncrossed your legs, you accidentally kicked Johnny’s long legs under the table. I’m so sorry, you mouthed silently. Turning back to Mrs. Suh, you couldn’t see the devious smirk crawl upon his plump lips.
You found out Mr. and Mrs. Suh were now fully retired. Mr. Suh spent his days at the Korean Golf Association, playing there and running the tournaments they hosted. Mrs. Suh was now fully committed to the church, taking on a busy schedule of events that was getting hard to manage.
Mrs. Suh was complaining about the new church moms when you quietly asked Johnny to pass the radish over, and he complied. Instead of just handing you the dish, he forked over some slices and dipped them in vinegar, just the way you like it. You grinned at him and he leaned over, then his leg brushed the smooth skin of your bare calves. Your eyes widened.
“...you would not believe how many mothers tried to get me to introduce their daughters to John-ah after I showed them a photo…”
You almost choked as his pant clad leg inserted itself between yours, the fabric of his pants tickling various spots on your legs causing every sense to be heightened. Feeling the goosebumps on your arms, you turned an accusing gaze to him but he looked nonplussed, eating his cabbage.
“...but I’ve met them already, and they’re not for Johnny, you know? They never liked Johnny in high school, so why should…”
You frantically grabbed for a glass of water as his knee brushed the inside of your thigh. A small whine left your lips as your pussy tightened, gripping the glass very tight. A drop of moisture collected in your panties, and quickly created a pool as his legs trapped yours.
“... Oh I love Mark-ah and Hyerim, but you were so good with the kids, Y/N-ah!...”
You let a curtain of hair cover your face to hide your reddening expression, breasts heaving as your breathing start to pick up. When his knee started move along the inside of your thigh, your teeth dug into your bottom lip hard enough to bleed, your remaining hand bunching up in your dress. You could see a small smirk form on Johnny’s face while he was eating and you scowled in his direction, squirming from the added moisture in your panties.
“...kids, Y/N-ah?”
You were shaken out of your daze when Mr. and Mrs. Suh looked expectantly at you.
“Sorry, auntie?”
“Do you have a husband? Or wife? How about kids— you are a born mother!”
Johnny’s foot slid to meet your ankle, forcing you to swallow hard. You hoped like hell your nipples wouldn’t peak through your dress. You already knew there was no saving your panties, shifting so your arousal wouldn’t stain your dress or the chair beneath you. You laughed awkwardly. “Ah, no, not quite. My job keeps me traveling around so much and I haven’t had time to start a family.”
“You still want one?”
Images of kids with hair like yours running around sunlit fields, a big house and a big belly, swollen with your baby flashed quickly in your head. Your smile turned sad.
“I’d love nothing more than one.”
Mrs. Suh smiled proudly, and turned to Johnny to nag him about her lack of grandkids or a daughter in law. Johnny had stopped playing footsie with you and was trying to avoid his mom’s hands grabbing at his face, but your breath still ran ragged when something occurred to you about your vision.
Those kids had the same eyes as Johnny.
(So caught up in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Mr. Suh nudge Johnny in the arm, silently telling him to “hurry up”.)
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“Y/N, I ban you from the kitchen! You are the guest,” Mrs. Suh stressed, waving you out of the question with a soapy glove.
“Absolutely not. I want to help you clean. Besides, you’re getting old, y’know?” you ribbed, pulling back your hair and grabbing a clean towel. As soon as dinner ended, you bolted out of the room into the kitchen, ignoring the stickiness between your legs.
“Aigoo! Fine, fine,” she relented, rinsing a dirty bowl.
Toweling off the glasses Mrs. Suh had recently cleaned, your gaze had wandered to Johnny’s tall figure in the dining room. As he moved about, Johnny seemed so much more comfortable in his lanky limbs, no longer the awkward kid you knew. His actions were done with surety of someone who knew of his own self-worth, sure of his abilities and flaws. Regret washed over you, mixed in with pride. You were so, so proud of the man you see before your eyes, but you desperately wished you could have been part of it.
Mrs. Suh watched you with a secret smile as your toweling slowed down.
“I know I said it before, but Johnny really missed you.”
“Huh?” you asked dumbly, taken out of your stupor.
“During the first few years after high school, I was so sure Johnny was going to break down. You two had become so busy and slowly lost contact— he didn’t know how to function without you! John-ah was like a blind man, stumbling around, aimless. But one day... it somehow all changed.”
“How?” you asked quietly.
“I found him in his room one day, one of the times he came back home. He was reading some of the Post-It notes he would randomly stick around his room, and it looked faded. I couldn’t see it, of course, but I saw John-ah slip into his pocket. The night I saw him, his eyes were bright, his shoulders, determined. His company took off right after he visited.”
Mrs. Suh stopped cleaning as she gazed at her boy, a small smile playing at her lips.
“I’m so proud of the man he has become. Yet… yet he’s told me he doesn’t feel satisfied, you know? Like there’s something empty in his chest. Like he’s looking for something but he doesn’t know what.”
Your breath caught in your throat and your heartbeat started to pound in your ears. How… how could it be so similar? How could he feel the exact same as what you do?
“Personally, I...I think he needs a family. He wants a girl he can love, and, dear god, you don’t know how much he wants kids.”
If you bit any harder, your lip would bleed onto your pretty dress.
“John-ah… you don’t see the look in his eyes when we pass by a child. He just completely stops listening to the conversation, and it’s like he can’t look away. He told me about your friend’s daughter— Callie, yes?— and then he finally realized how much he wanted kids. So, so much.”
A fine tremor wracked your hand as you put away the plates, lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t as if you were shocked, oh no. It was more the fact that you could finally see it: you and Johnny, looking into each other’s eyes, in each other’s loving embrace as your children with your hair and his eyes slept in the crib in front of you.
Distractedly, you toweled the rest of the dishes and kissed her cheek as you shuffled off to the living room.
“Y/N, dear,” she called out after you.
“Yes, Auntie?”
Her eyes suddenly seemed so old.
“You don’t know how scared he was when he thought Callie was yours.”
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As promised, the next day Johnny took you out to the best coffee place in your hometown. Broken Egg Cafe was a small place squeezed in between a boutique and an alcohol store on main street, and it was as shabby as it looked on its facade. Mix and match furniture dotted the rustic food place, dim lighting providing an ambient atmosphere. The cafe was the usual haunt of the local community college kids who liked the hipster atmosphere and comfy spots. That, and it was the place where everyone knew that if you went on a date, you were seriously committed to each other.
Trying not to dwell on it, you sat patiently while scrolling through your phone. A grin lit up your face as you saw the series of photos Mrs. Suh had posted on Facebook, all of the Suh family dinner you partook in. You clicked the heart and saved all the photos, and, embarrassingly, the one where Johnny had led you to the table. You were grinning at each other, his hand resting on your shoulder, as Mr. Suh was reached for something out of frame. Quickly, a few taps had replaced the generic background of your phone with the picture.
Funnily enough, all the photos posted had included you in it. Call yourself crazy, but you expected Mrs. Suh to post a few of her and her husband, or her and her son— but no. You could even see the ones where visible sweat gleaned from your brow, shakily smiling after Johnny had played footsie under the table.
“Y/N!”
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You gave him a quick glance over and, wow, he looked devilishly handsome today. An old Ramones shirt half-tucked into skinny jeans was an interesting contrast to his usual business attire, his ratty converse slapping on the wood beams as he strode towards you.
He evidently saw your glance-over as a shit-eating grin graced his lips, and you could only ignore the heat in your cheeks then bury your head into his chest.
“Hey sweet girl, how are you?” he whispered into your ear, your shoulders tensing as a breath of hot air hit your sensitive neck.
“Well, you?” you murmured near his neck.
“Great as you can be waiting for the reunion tonight,” he snickered.
A snort passed your lips as you flopped down onto the couch, tucking your feet under you and propping your head on your palm. His lanky figure settled into the couch, limbs comfortably positioned to face you.
“I ordered your ridiculous drink, you know. Grande Chai Tea Latte, 3 Pumps, Skim Milk, Lite Water—”
“—no foam, extra hot?” you asked disbelievingly.
“Yes, your frou-frou white girl drink that’ll cause cavities,” he grumbled.
“I could kiss you, you know that?” you blurted, eyes glued to the server bringing you your drink.
He murmured something as you said your thanks to the server, grasping the cup with 2 hands.
“Huh?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
You rolled your eyes and knocked your knee against his. “Didn’t Auntie tell you to stop doing that?”
Soon, a light hearted conversation reminiscing about the past started up. You could both of you slip back into that easy rhythm that was your dynamic back in high school, joking and ranting to each other. You laughed about everything from the time he took up skateboarding and briefly became emo, the antics the band kids had gotten up to, and even your horrible experience with AP Calculus.
“And, oh my god, remember what Jake did at senior prom? I can’t believe he wasn’t expelled,” you said, eyes wide.
“Jake? My lord and savior, Jake?” Johnny asked, his grin widening. “Man, that was my bro. Swag brothers forever.”
“Johnny, he put smuggled in a chicken. To this day I don’t how he did that!”
“Secret.” He put a finger over his lips. “But, I will tell you I had to distract to Prom Committee by B-Boying.”
You shook your head, hiding a smile. “Prom was so fun, wasn’t it? The theme was great that year, they ordered great food—”
“—You went with me, duh—”
“—and I didn’t trip over my dress! You were an okay date for prom.”
Johnny gasped loudly, and laid a hand over his hard, clearly offended. “Excuse me? I clearly remember you made me trip during the last dance! Here I was, being a great date, leading us through the dance, and you placed a wrong foot forward. You!”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “That was only because you–” you pressed a finger into his hard chest “–were too close.”
“Can you blame me?” he breathed.
It was in that moment you realized how close you were to him. Somehow, throughout the course of the conversation, you both had scooted closer to each other on the couch and ended up with both your legs tangled together.
“W-what are you talking about, Youngho?”
He sighed, his hands unconsciously seeking out yours. “Y/N, can I be honest?”
“Of course you can, you can always be with me,” you reassured, still confused as hell.
A soft smile came to his face. “I...  the day at the cafe. I was never in town to meet with my old investor. I came here, back to town and this reunion, in hopes of seeing my beautiful best friend.”
“I–”
“Hold on, let me… let me tell you what’s been on my mind.”
His thumb started stroking hands, your mind briefly registering the large difference in size before freaking out at how close he was to you.
“In high school, you were my only good friend. My pillar, my rock, the only one who held my hand before I became...me. From freshman to senior year, you enchanted me and I could only helplessly fall into you, like a singularity Mrs. Kee harped on about in Physics,” he chuckled.
“Sometimes, I would look at you and think, why me? You could have befriended every other boy, but no. It was me. Even when everyone made fun of me and rejected me, it was always me. And god, prom.”
“I was so damn close to telling you how I felt that night, dancing with you for the last song. I mentally prepared myself and everything, I needed to tell you before we graduated, and I opened my mouth and then it hit me: you deserve someone so much better. You had your whole life in front of you, and why should dorky ol’ me hold you back? I didn’t tell you, and I...I don’t regret it.”
Pain rippled over his face then he composed himself, his stare burning into yours.
“I was so lost without you for years. How could I be with you when I didn’t even know where I was going? But that one day… I decided I was going to find myself. Moved to Korea, started a company… you know the rest. I became the best I could be.”
Tears started to well up at the edges of your eyes, and as your lips quivered you brought a soft hand to cheek. You didn’t know his insecurity ran that deep; you thought those little self-deprecating jokes were just that–jokes. What kind of best friend were you that you let him think so badly of himself, from high school and the years that followed?
He leaned into your touch, and the tension evaporated from his broad shoulders.
“10 years later, and I think that maybe, maybe I’m good enough for myself– good enough for you. So I sign myself up for this stupid little reunion, fly back home, yet in that little cafe I was so unprepared to see you.”
His lips brushed over your palm, like the brush of silk, and then he leaned back.
“When I saw you that day, it felt like a dream. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing you for real and when I knew, I was so fucking happy. And, like a cruel imitation of prom, something held me back.”
“I didn’t realize that maybe you moved on without me, maybe you had a family and a new best friend. I felt so stupid at the time, seeing you look so beautiful, thinking I could just waltz back in we could pick up where we left off. It’s no excuse, but it’s why I lied and was a complete asshole towards you. I was so disappointed in myself.”
You couldn’t hear anything around you, see anything around you, and was engulfed by the vision of your best friend looking at you like a prayer.
“What do you feel now, Youngho?” you whispered.
“I will always see you as my everything.”
His lips brushed against your forehead and he walked out before you could process anything.
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“Thanks!” Cynthia calls out as she exits the Uber Black XL. You give a wan smile to the driver as you carefully step out onto the pavement.
The golden sign of the Langham shone bright against the rapidly darkening Chicago skyline, reflecting off the mirror-like glass. Perhaps it was the fact that you were a New Yorker, or the fact you were shivering and it wasn’t because of the cold, but you could not concentrate on the sight at all.
“Isn’t this place gorgeous? The girls and I worked hard to get a banquet hall here, like, hard. Who cares about the thirty minute drive when you can get a place like this?” your friend calls out excitedly, sweeping an arm to emphasize to view.
“You did well for yourselves this time. I bet the committee for the class before ours is steaming,” you shakily joked. Well, not quite. As said before, school reunions were huge for your school, each class trying to outdo each other at every turn, from the venue to the catering and more. Your class must be feeling quite proud right now.
“I bet this is so-so for you, city girl,” she ribbed. A yelp escaped your lips, accusingly looking towards her as you rubbed the spot where she elbowed you. “Oh shut up, PTA mom.”
No matter how much you liked to tease her, Cynthia looked the opposite of a PTA mom tonight. Her cocktail attire hugged her post-pregnancy curves, but, looking at her now, she looked like a mix of her youthful party persona with worldly maturity. She definitely would be turning a few heads tonight.
“C’mon, city girl, let’s go. I need to see if everything is perfect!” 
Your 10-year high school reunion was held in a ballroom 2 stories above the street, sumptuous in its decoration and looking more like a corporate dinner than anything else. Dozens of circular tables dotted the floor of the room, each set in the green and gold of your high school colors. A particularly large “Go Spartans! Class of 2XXX” sign was posted right outside the door, attracting people to sign their names onto the banner with a flourish. While you and Cynthia were on time, many people had shown up and milled about the room.
“Oh my god, there’s our val! Let’s see if she’s something cool or just peaked in high school,” Cynthia whispered conspiratorially, dragging your unsure figure towards the crowd.
You tried your best to greet everybody in the large ballroom, but a certain man was still lingering at the forefront of your mind. Every few seconds, you would catch yourself glancing around nervously, especially towards the large double doors that heralded anyone’s arrival. Eventually, when you caught yourself gravitating closer to the entrance, you knew you were being ridiculous.
An expensive-sounding roar sounded outside the building, and a collective head turn had the crowd’s eyes riveted on a white car in the valet lane of the hotel. You didn’t know much about cars, but even looking at it 2 stories up, it looked like something out of a movie. Male murmurs of appreciation were heard as the butterfly doors of the car opened up, even bystanders stopping and staring. You felt a sinking feeling at the bottom of your stomach as a good-looking man in a grey suit stepped out, his black wavy hair visible from a distance.
God, how were you even supposed to talk to Johnny? Somehow, telling him “I’ve secretly pined over you for years and would like to have your babies” didn’t quite do it for you.
“Y/N? Oh my gosh!”
Not this shit again.
Repressing an oncoming headache, you plastered your best fake smile that you put on especially for disagreeable clients and turned towards the snooty, entitled voice that was so familiar.
“Victoria! Wonderful to see you again,” you simpered. Goodness, you could see her fake tan glowing radioactively in the dim light.
“Oh, come here! It’s great to see you here, don’t you look just fab.” Victoria threw her arms out, as if you two were the best of friends, and you stepped into a polite embrace. Granted, now you could see her typical Brooks Brother dress was well-fitted, but screamed “country-club mom!” in your face.
“You’ve got to meet my husband. James, come here!”
A well-built man in a tailored navy suit lumbered towards her, two champagne flutes in his hands. Gazing at his chiseled features and neat blond hair, you could admit Victoria had caught quite the catch.
“Victoria,” he murmured, handing a glass to her. He caught sight of you, his eyes roving predatorily over your body that made you shiver in a not-so-nice way. 
“Sweetheart, would you care to introduce me to your friend?” he said, not taking his eyes off of you.
She clearly noticed the way he was speaking to you, her lined eyes narrowing and her lips curling into a snarl.
“Husband, this is Y/N, an acquaintance of mine. We didn’t hang out with the same crowd, she preferred those geeky types,” Victoria emphasized, making it clear that you were undesirable.
He hummed while still looking at your legs and you could spot the signs of a dysfunctional marriage right away. You saw it in the men you worked with, obviously bored with a taste for female coworkers, even though his wedding band shone bright on his left hand. You sort of felt bad for her, no matter how much of a bitch she was to you.
“Anyways, I saw you were looking for someone. Did you bring any hot hubby?” she giggled a bit too brightly.
You smiled tightly. She was clearly trying to humiliate you, but once her dear husband found out you were single, you wouldn’t be surprised if you found yourself cornered in a hallway. “Not today, Vicky,” you said, knowing it would irritate the hell out of her. Victoria hated the nickname ‘Vicky’, claiming it sounded too country-bumpkin for her tastes.
“That’s right! You’re single, with your fancy office job and all–”
“Y/N, I was looking for you.”
It felt like your senses were on superdrive, hyper-alert of the man standing behind you.
You really weren’t prepared for this. You really, really weren’t. You hadn’t had any time to mentally or emotionally prepare for when you spoke to Johnny the next time you saw him, cowardly languishing in a pool of anxiety and insecurity.
Well, you were L/N Y/N. Hired straight out of college for J.P. Morgan. You were promoted and trusted because you could handle high pressure situations like this. So, you put on your big girl face and turned to see Johnny.
His smirking lips were the first thing you saw, and then his eyes, wolfish and sharp. Johnny was indeed the man in the grey suit with the fancy car, and you could see the way this particular get-up highlighted his lean figure.
“Johnny, hey,” you smiled softly, though you were sure there was a nervous lilt to your voice. Evidently, he caught on as his smirk widened and he stepped closer to you. The whiplash was real. One moment he was a lovestruck boy confessing to you in a coffee shop and the next he was a smooth-tongued man that made your knees weak.
“Johnny Suh? Mister Johnny Suh?”
The pair of you looked towards Victoria’s husband, whom looked awe-struck.
“Yes?” Johnny asked, eyes settling on the man in front of him.
There was no masculine size-up moment you’ve always seen in Wall street meetings, but James postured and simpered his way to Johnny.
“It’s great to meet you! I’m James Bouchard, a financial analyst. I worked with Banksy’s finance department before on the 2015 Orchard project.”
A charming smile made its way onto Johnny’s face, the perfect picture of a suave businessman. As great as it was looking at Johnny in his natural element, it was infinitely more amusing to watch the changing moods on Victoria’s countenance. Currently, she was stuck on shock as she learned more about the boy she shunned.
“Is Ms. Y/N your lovely wife? My wife just introduced me to her, you caught a great one,” he winked, trying to flatter Johnny’s ego. 
Your best friend (crush? Classmate? Acquaintance?) merely chuckled and snaked an arm around your waist. He looked down at you with undisguised admiration, making you blush and look away. “I’d say she was the one that caught me, since we’ve been best friends since high school. Although, your wife didn’t quite seem to like me in high school. Pity.” Unable to resist, you looked sharply up at him. Since when were you his wife? Well, not that you’d protest, but these kinds of decisions require two consenting adults!
James looked down on his wife with malice in his eyes for potentially ruining a lucrative connection that she didn’t even know would exist. Victoria looked deeply embarrassed.
“Well, it was great seeing both of you! C’mon, James, dear, the food looks lovely,” she said brightly, beating out a hasty retreat with James angrily striding behind.
Sitting in silence for a few moments, you finally raised an eyebrow, a common signal that you used to ask him to ‘explain’. He opened his mouth, but a shout of his name had both of you turning towards the origin. Johnny rolled his eyes, and went to speak to you again but louder, greater shouts interrupted him.
“Look, baby, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated at the interruption.
“Go to your swag bros, Johnny. I think they miss you,” you said drily as they began clanging glasses.
“You’re the best,” he kissed your forehead hurriedly. 
“Ooh-la-la, what was that about?” Cynthia sauntered up beside you, looking in the direction of the tall man.
“It was nothing, Cynthia.”
“Nothing? Johnny-with-the-great-biceps called you ‘baby’ and kissed you on the forehead, I don’t think that’s nothing.”
“Cynthia, I…” you bit your lip, discomfited.
Her eyes softened, seeing the deeply troubled set to your face.
“Let’s go to somewhere else.”
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“—and now I don’t know what to do!”
Cynthia nodded mutely after hearing you explain the past days’ goings on, from the cafe to the walk and even to the dinner. She was uncharacteristically staying silent, soaking in the information as you recounted the tale.
She looked contemplative for a few moments, before her eyes sought yours. “You want to know what I think?”
“Aren’t you here for that?” you snapped.
She looked you dead in the eye. “You’re being an absolute idiot right now.”
You spluttered for a few seconds. “Uh- what? Hold on, Cynthia—”
“He’s deeply in love with you, and from what I’ve heard you sound like you feel the same. It’s that simple.”
“I-I—”
“Tell me right now, what would happen if he got married right now to someone that wasn’t you?”
“I would die before that would happen!” you snarled. Going back, you realized what you said and quickly deflated. “Well, I… I would be deeply devastated. God, Cynthia, from the time in school to now, I realized I love him. He’s my best friend, my pillar, my rock. He’s been there for me so many times I can’t even count it all.”
“And then it gets even worse knowing that he wants a family too. I don’t know if you know Cynthia, but I’m so lonely up in the big bright lights of New York. It’s gotten so bad that I’ve considered adopting and artificial insemination, even gone to an IVF clinic. But it won’t be the same, because I want a family and my belly round and my kids playing in the backyard, and it scares me that I can see it all with him.”
You sighed glumly. “I should’ve just confessed to him at prom.”
Cynthia smiled sympathetically. “Why don’t you just tell him what you told me?”
“She just did.”
You both started violently, and saw a large shadow blocking the doorway.
Johnny.
Your girl best friend snorted and quickly exited, patting Johnny’s back on her way out.
“Johnny! You scared the hell out of me!” you scolded, your hand on your rapidly rising chest.
A deep laugh rumbled from his chest as he took a seat next to you.
“Do you have something to tell me, baby?”
Heat rose to your cheeks. “Yes.”
“Go on, sweet cheeks. I won’t judge.”
However, his smug grin of a man knowing what’s about to come told you otherwise.
“Johnny!” you whined, flinging a throw pillow at him.
He ducked and snickered. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop.”
You settled down and hugged yourself. “This may not be as long as what you said in the coffee shop, but Johnny… I’ve loved you since freshman year. I’ve loved you in every year after that, even when we got separated for almost a decade. I didn’t realize what I was missing in my life was you, that my life wasn’t right without my best friend by my side. When I came back home I wasn’t expecting anything, but I think an unconscious part of me hoped to see you. Everything I said with Cynthia is true and I—stop staring at me!’’
“I can’t, you’re too beautiful,” he deadpanned, but you saw the mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“Just kiss me you– you tub of lard!” 
Johnny effortlessly pulled you into his lap to straddle, arms snaking around your hips as he placed his lips onto yours.
All the tension immediately evaporated from your body, as your limbs felt like liquid in his arms. His tongue swiped against the bottom of your lips, and you found a shred of will inside of you and playfully resisted. He squeezed your side, the sensitive bit right under your breasts, and your lips parted automatically as you moaned.
You felt shivers wherever he touched you, but felt it was unfair he was giving and not receiving. Your nails combed through his hair, found a section of hair, tugged sharply.
He growled into the kiss and you felt his hard erection through his dress pants, poking at your inner thigh.
“Still think I’m a tub of lard?” he whispered at the corner of your mouth, flexing his thick thighs underneath you and pulling you closer to his rock-hard chest.
“Mmph, no, Johnny.”
His smoky eyes looked into yours. “Also, don’t, Y/N.”
“...what?” you said confusedly as you calmed down. Did you do something wrong?
“Don’t try to have kids through those… those methods.”
“Do you mean IVF? Artificial insemination?”
A nod.
A frown pulled at your lips and you leaned back unconsciously. “Johnny, don’t you understand? I want my own children so badly I can barely think, okay? I never thought I’d want to have one a few years ago, but call it mother’s instincts— “
“When you have a child, it’s going to be mine. You’re gonna have one the proper way—by me throughly fucking a baby into your cunt,” he hissed through his teeth, right into your ear.
Goosebumps rose along your skin and you clenched his shoulders harder as he suckled kisses along the side of your neck. With some, he even added little presses of the tongue, making you clench your legs around his torso tighter.
“My baby likes dirty talk, doesn’t she? Just like she liked my little game of footsie,” he laughed, puffs of air blooming on your sensitive skin.
“Johnny,” you weakly reprimanded. You then noticed the hands that were clasped at your knees, rubbing the sweet spot underneath, and felt a moisture pool in your lacy thong.
“So, whaddya say? You say yes and I drive to my apartment and fuck you until your stomach swells with my children, or I do it regardless of where we are.”
You finally realize you are heavily making out in a side hallway where someone could see you easily. While the idea was tempting, if not a bit hot, you visualize your naked bodies writhing as he slides in and out of you—
“Yes, please, Johnny, please.”
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The ride to his apartment was surprisingly comfortable. After hastily leaving the party, you two hopped into his butterfly sports car and roared down the avenue.
Don’t get it wrong, the sexual tension was there and as present as ever, but it wasn’t awkward in the slightest. You folded your legs up to the side and leaned towards him, his right hand softly stroking your knee while he zoomed down the streets of Chicago.
An elevator ride later, you were admiring the night Chicago skyline from Johnny’s bedroom window as he pressed kisses onto your shoulders.
“Youngho,” you sighed, leaning into him.
He hummed and nipped lightly at your neck.
“C’mon babe, undress for me.”
He sauntered back to the bed as you fumbled with the pins in your hair, shaking your hair loose of the tight up-do it had been in.
You looked back to see Johnny at the edge of the bed, his legs spread wide and leaning back with an arm.
“I haven’t done this in a long time, so I’m probably going to disappoint you,” you warned as you set down the pins with a clink.
“Indulge me. I’ve been fantasizing about this moment since Junior year,” he smirked lazily.
You cast a doubtful look towards him, but obliged nonetheless.
Starting with your jewelry, you unclasped your necklace, earrings, and watch and carefully set them on the counter. Your heels were kicked off to the side, and that was left was your dress. You breathed in deeply and released, methodically unbuttoning your dress until it fell with a soft whisper on the floor.
You looked through your curtain of hair to gauge his reaction and Johnny looked dazed, his eyes slightly glassy with his mouth slightly parted.
“Youngho?”
“C’mere.”
You was sure your gait resembled a newborn foal rather than some sultry vixen, but Johnny did not seem to care. He pulled you into his lap once again, but this time sideways.
His kisses trailed innocently at the top of your bra and you find yourself impatient. “I thought you were going to fuck my cunt?” you pronounced succinctly.
Johnny’s teeth bit harshly at the tops of your breasts, eliciting a harsh hiss from you. “Now you’ve done it, baby.”
You giggled as he practically threw you onto the bed, a male moan of appreciation slipping from his lips when he saw you splayed out for him. He ducked in to steal a kiss, supporting himself with his toned arms and you grasped the back of his head.
Johnny licked a long stripe on your clavicle as you gave a sharp tug on the knot of his tie. Removing the black tie, your fingers quickly got to work unbuttoning his shirt. He got on his knees to tug it off in one glorious motion, exposing his well-built chest to your hungry eyes.
It was surreal to see this Johnny kneeling before you, topless and licking his lips, and it was hard to find any trace of the boy in Naruto pajamas everywhere.
“Get up for me baby, scoot up a bit,” he urged.
As you obeyed, you took the chance to slip off your bra. Heat rose to stay permanently on your cheeks as you unclasped it and shrugged it off. You nipples quickly stiffened to the air and Johnny looked absolutely delighted.
Your eyes tracked him as he leaned forward and carefully weighed one in his large hands. His thumb brushed the soft underside of your breast and your shoulders quivered like a leaf in the wind.
“All for me to play with?” he said under his breath, looking entranced by the pliant flesh in his hands.
Getting between your legs, his tongue laved at the skin of your breasts, “accidental” licks getting you to squirm. Johnny’s plump lips continued their trail to your stomach and finally kissed the edges of your thong.
“May I?” he asked formally, raising his gleaming eyes to yours.
You nodded and his nimble fingers dragged your panties down, forcing you to brace your calves against his shoulders. He tossed them carefully to the vanity before lowering himself to eye level with your pussy.
“My pretty baby has such a pretty pussy, doesn’t she?” he cooed, thumbs rubbing the crux of your thighs.
Whining in agreement, you opened your legs wider for his perusal and looked away in embarrassment.
Johnny tsked and forced your chin to look at down at him. “Look at me.”
He wouldn’t let go until you leaned your head into his palm. He held eye contact with you as he slowly pressed his lips against your labia, your eyes widening and mewl escaping your lips.
You slammed your hand against your mouth as he began exploring, curling into the pillow and looking heavenward. His tongue peaked out and caressed the hood of your clit, beckoning for it to come. You muffled a scream when he used his tongue more liberally, reaching deeper and curling into the walls of your pussy. Your hips lifted off the mattress as you writhed underneath his torturous tongue until Johnny’s hands clamped down and forced your limbs onto the bed.
He was truly gifted at this, easily finding the spots that made you squirm. It felt like hours passed as he used his flexible tongue on you, playing you easily, and you slipped in and out of reality. But then he suckled, and you lost it.
Your limbs flailed as you wailed, suffocated with a blanket of pleasure. You had no idea what to do with your hands, switching places from tugging at your hair to squeezing your arms and even grasping Johnny’s thick locks until you settled for grasped the edges of the pillow next to you.
“No! Johnny, I- I can’t— oh my god—Agh!”
He shushed you quickly, murmuring “you can take it” against your thighs. You felt the pressure inside your stomach build, holding your breath as it inched closer and closer to that edge. Johnny finally pressed his thumb against your clit and you let out a full-throated scream, succumbing to the wave of pleasure dragging you under. Your knees knocked together painfully and you slid further down the mattress, pussy gushing out underneath you.
But no; he cruelly drew it out, kept on rubbing circles into your sensitive flesh until your eyes rolled to the back of your head and were unable to speak.
A few breathless moments passed and he broke the silence. “Not only are my oral skills great, but my oral skills are too” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes, before yelping as one of the aftershocks wracked your limbs.
Johnny merely chuckled before flipping you onto your stomach, face down on the mattress. Peeking over your shoulder, you glimpsed Johnny tugging off his pants and boxers until his hard erection stood proud, springing back and forth in the air. You gulped; it was a beautiful pink, veiny as hell, topped with a mushroom tip oozing out pre cum. Most importantly, it was huge —you had no idea he was packing that underneath his gym shorts— and looked to be the girth of your wrist.
“Johnny, i-is it gonna fit?” you stuttered nervously.
He smiled proudly at you, his hand stroking his cock up and down. “You have one tight pussy, love, but I’ve prepped you a lot and we’ll make it work. Don’t worry, okay?”
With that he forced your head against the sheets, taking away your vision completely. You felt extremely vulnerable with your butt raised high up in the air, but Johnny quickly grasped your hips and rubbed his cock against the seam of your pussy lips, lathering it in your cum.
“Tell me, baby, how much do you want this?”
“So much!” you murmured into the mattress.
He thrust his hips just a bit and his tip quickly slid in and out of you. “What was that?”
“Johnny, please! I want it so much!” you moaned into the mattress.
“Say it. I want to hear filth from your pretty lips,” he hissed, sounding impatient. He certainly felt impatient, his hands gripping your hips so hard they would surely bruise and his erection throbbing against your quim.
“I want you to fuck me raw with your huge cock! I want your cum leaking from my pussy—please, Johnny, please! Fuck me!” you cried.
“My dirty girl,” he purred. HIs lined his cock up with your entrance and slowly sank in, both of you groaning reactively. His dick stretched you and it toed the line between pain and pleasure but, nevertheless, you sunk your hips into his.
“Not— not too fast, Youngho. You’re really, really big,” you whimpered. He waited for a while before leisurely thrusting in and then picking up pace.
“Oh fuck, Youngho, just like that,” you moaned. He also let out strangled groans of pleasure, echoing in his large bedroom. Crude slaps of flesh against flesh reverberated in your ears, puncturing the sound of blood roaring in your veins. His testes smacked periodically against your clit and you could not stop the indecent noises coming from your mouth.
“Good?” he grunted, his sweaty black bangs sticking to his forehead as he thrust. You could imagine his chest gleaming with sweat from the city lights and the image made you wetter, if possible.
A particularly sharp thrust jolted your hips, and kept his hips flush against yours with his cock in you. “I said, good?”
“Fuck, I like it—it’s so good— and, oh my gosh, I love it, I love it, I love it—” you rambled incoherently.
He snorted and pulled out.
“Youngho, don’t stop—”
“Get on your back, baby. Let me see you.”
With great effort, you rolled over and your vision of him did no justice. He looked ethereal, gleaming in his sweat. Shadows played across his body as his muscles flexed and contracted and you were breathless.
“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, Y/N.”
A terrible mixture of excitement and arousal arose from you. The idea of him fucking you full of his come and looking down at your round belly was almost too much. You whined up at him, wiggling your hips.
He tsked in disapproval. “Nuh-uh, legs up, sweetheart. Missionary is the best way to get you pregnant.”
You truly were worried that your arousal would leak down your legs as you lifted your limbs up to his broad shoulders. He firmly grasped the sides of your stomach and pulled you closer to him.
As you were watching him with a sort of breathless excitement, he was glued to the sight of his cock sinking into your pussy, bewitched by the way your folds parted for his cock like the blooming of a flower. Johnny quickly put a hand over the lower half of your stomach, thrusting robustly upwards and while you screamed, he wore a shit-eating grin on his face.
“W-What is it, Johnny?” you breathed harshly.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned loudly as he thrust once more. “F-feel this, baby.”
He put your hand where his had previously been and thrust upwards. Your lips parted in wonder when you felt a small bulge form underneath your hand. His cock was that big?
“Holy—Agh!— shit,” you pant.
His eyes flared with lust as he rammed his cock in again, just to see that little bump appear, and did so again and again until you heard his fancy bed frame start to creak.
This position was by far the best, even if it was good ol’ missionary. The slight curve to his cock caused the head to press deliciously into the walls of your pussy, and you felt him much closer than ever before.
You could spot his thick, muscled thighs ripple with the effort he was putting into fucking you and gripped the sheets much harder. Noises of content, ‘yes’s’ and ‘fuck’s!’ spat out with increasing frequency, permeated the air thick of the scent of sex and sweat.
He slipped your legs off his shoulders and around his waist before supporting himself above you with his veiny forearms. “Homestretch, baby.”
You were cut off from snorting as you screamed, his cock ramming into your hips. In-and-out, the delicious stretch repeating over and over again until you felt a familiar haze spread over you.
“I’m going to stuff you full of cum, Y/N. I’m going to knock you up with the baby you so desperately want, right? A baby with my eyes and your hair?” he growled.
You heart skipped a beat. How did he know what you saw?
“Mmm! Yes, yes! I’ll be barefoot and pregnant for you!”
“Your pussy takes my cock so well, baby, so well, you don’t even know. Fuck, I’m just imagining my cum on your pretty pink pussy lips.”
He went in so deep, until you felt his balls pressing into your ass and the tip of his cock pressing into your womb.You felt so filled, physically and emotionally, as you basked in the man thrusting into you like a piston.
The same in-and-out of reality experience occurred and you found your eyes rolling back into your head, not registering anything else. You felt like you were sinking in molasses, pleasure and bliss cocooning you tight and secure. The familiar wave was starting to build up again.
You came back to your senses as his hand drifted in between you and hovered near the crux of your thighs. In concurrence with his solid thrusting, his thumb began harshly rubbing circles into your clit, zings of delight firing over your whole body.
“Cum, baby, I know you want to. I can feel your tight pussy fluttering all over my cock,” he grunted.
His cock hit your cervix and your hands made vicious marks against his back as you wailed loudly in pleasure. The wave had crested but Johnny had not stopped whatsoever. Your best friend was still in desperate search for his peak that he thrust even faster, overstimulating you so much you inadvertently thrashed to get away from him.
A choked cry left your lips as he ruthlessly pulled your hips back and inserted his cock again, this time slamming into you with a force caused loud creaks from the bed frame.
“You don’t get to stop until there’s a goddamn baby in you. God, I’m going to cum so fucking hard.”
“Fill me up, Johnny.” you goaded. “Make me yours forever. Put a fucking baby in my belly.”
“Shit!” he hissed out.
You felt the spurts of his come from the tip and you wrapped yourself around him tighter as he let out a strangled moan, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Biting the spot between your collarbone and your neck, Johnny added to the collection of red and purple you were sure was already there. He gave little staccato thrusts as you felt more and more cum fill up your pussy, until an obscene squelching sound was heard as he was moving in and out of you.
He panted for a few moments, kneeling back onto the bed and spreading your legs wide. You attempted to cover your seeping pussy but he brushed your hand aside and focused on the small stream of white leaking.
“You look gorgeous like that, Y/N. Tired and sated with my cum leaking out of you.”
You scooped up some of the excess and brought it to your lips, sucking his salty cum off of your fingers one by one. You raised an eyebrow.
He groaned and wrapped you into his side, as if asking the universe “What am I going to do with her?”. You smiled snuggled into his side, happy that you finally weren’t alone anymore.
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“Johnny... I’m ovulating today. There is a huge, huge chance of me getting pregnant. D-do you really, really want to this baby? Do you really… do you really want a family? With me?” you whispered.
“Let me show you something.” He climbed out of bed, naked as the day he was born, and returned to the room a navy suit jacket when you saw him at the cafe. He pulled out one of the heart-shaped pink Post-It notes you gave to him ironically during sophomore year and handed it to you.
On the paper, it had a date and some scribbled words.
11/4/2XXX
I’m going to marry Y/N.
“I wrote that in 10th grade,” he murmured beside you. “I’m more confident in myself that I can owe up to those words. I feel like… like I’m worthy of you now.”
“Oh, Youngho,” you sighed, thumb stroking his plump lips. You kissed them and smiled up at the man who was your best friend, your lover—the man you wanted to marry and have kids with. How could you ever repay him for making you feel whole again?  “I accept the you from then and the you now. Whatever you are and wherever you are, you are always worthy of love.”
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Please don’t forget to like, comment and reblog! I would also really appreciate that if you liked my work enough, that you would consider supporting me by buying me a kofi at ko-fi.com/caiuscassiuss. Thank you so much for reading!
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hetooktheglass · 7 years
Text
Closing Time, 3
A twist...
Part one here Part two here
He wouldn’t ever be able to understand why he was here, at this place, in this time. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Alex he hated people. People brought out the worst in other people, and in him. Being alone was safe. At least alone, the only person who could hurt him was himself.
Ryland had been watching Alex. He caught a show once, back when the rest of the band actually gave a shit about the project, and he’d found himself drawn to the lanky singer, intrigued by his costume choice, the sway of those hips, the tones in his voice. It was so strange to hear something so beautiful come out of something so... gaudy.
To say he’d fallen for Alex was an exaggeration. He didn’t give two shits if Alex lived or died, if he became famous or continued to drown himself in his own sorrows. That’s why it surprised him so much when he found himself helping Alex that first night, going so far as inviting him into his shitty apartment and offering up his couch. He’d vowed it was a one time thing, that he wouldn’t be back to that bar. He wasn’t going to go seeking that trouble.
After Alex left, the first thing Ryland did was look up Gollum. He then proceeded to find and devour the Lord of the Rings movies, director’s cuts, because he didn’t have anything else to do or anywhere else to be, and for some reason he wanted to know more about this random reference the other man had made.
This other man he never intended to see again.
Ryland looked it up. Watching all three films took about 11 hours, give or take for piss breaks and stretches. He breezed through them in just under a day, and he ordered the book online as well. Why not? He didn’t read much, but Hell, it’d be nice to start, right?
When he was done with the movies, he thought that was it. His curiosity was sated, he didn’t need to do this anymore. Except he did. He needed to know more about this broccoli headed asshole that just barfed his way into his life and he didn’t even know why. He just... wanted to know him.
He kept himself away for a full week. He had beer in the house and he didn’t need to go out. These were his excuses. He had to keep to them. But a week passed and he found himself glancing at the door more and more, pausing his games and shuffling to the entry of his apartment, only to shuffle back to his couch and grumble about how stupid he was being. It was one guy.
One charismatic guy with a golden voice and puppy dog eyes that pulled you so far in you didn’t realize it until it was too late. One guy with hair that looked so touchably soft, Ryland actually wanted to try.
He hated people.
Alex wasn’t people.
On a whim, he decided to go down to the bar exactly a week after the first incident, for a change of scenery he told himself. As soon as he walked in and caught sight of that sequined, moppy headed mess that was Alex, he knew the real reason he’d come here. He was worried. He was curious. He wanted to know more.
He sat in the back, ordered a beer, and quietly watched as, just like a week before, Alex continued to drink. And check the clock. They weren’t coming. Ryland knew it. Alex knew it. The bartender certainly knew it.
Closing time came and the bartender started hinting to the small crowd. Alex was one of the first ones up, and that caught Ryland by surprise. As drunk as he was, he was the same last week. As though he was afraid he’d hurt the bartender’s feelings or inconvenience him if he stayed too long. Maybe he was. Ryland gave it a count of ten once Alex left before he stood, gathering his coat and making his way for the door.
Same flowerbed. Same Alex. Same vomit.
This was a pattern. This was something more than immediate sadness. This was not his business.
Ryland stopped and gently patted Alex’s back as he threw up, rubbing small circles and waiting for the other to look up at him again.
“What’d I tell you, Alex?” he asked, smirking at the other. God, if he wasn’t so shit-faced, he’d actually be kind of cute, the way he stared up at him with those doe eyes.
“That you don’t know what Lord of the Rings is?” Alex was so gone, so out of it, and it caught Ryland so off guard.
He sputtered, confused. He wanted to say that he knew, that he’d watched Lord of the Rings because Alex had mentioned it and it had left him curious. He wanted to tell Alex about his day of movie watching, how he almost pissed himself because he didn’t want to leave in the middle of the Balrog scene and he couldn’t find the remote. He wanted to tell him about how hard he fucking bawled over it all. Sam and his stupid selflessness. Frodo’s sanity slipping away. Gandalf... just Gandalf. How he’d laughed so hard over tossing a dwarf that he nearly fell off his couch. How he hadn’t laughed in... so long. How he’d wished Alex was there to laugh through it with him, and why the fuck would he want that when he gave the guy one night’s stay on his couch? Fuck this guy. Fuck him!
What he said was a little less articulate.
“What does that have to do with- No, the bit about not drinking- Damn it, you’re gone, aren’t you? Come on, buddy. Up you get. The couch is free tonight.” Why was he offering this to the guy again? It was a pattern. He knew they’d be right back here next week, and Alex wouldn’t learn anything. So why?
“You didn’t know who Gollum was,” Alex started as he let himself be hoisted up to Ryland’s side. A thin, shaking arm wrapped around his lower back and Ryland shivered slightly. Human contact. People touching him. People... talking to him. Seeing the softer sides of him.
“S’from Lord of the Rings,” Alex continued to babble. “It’s a great story. Book’s awesome- Books’re better than the movies, but the movies are still pretty good. You should try ‘em. They-”
He couldn’t listen to this shit, though. Ryland’s hand was over Alex’s mouth before he even thought about it. “Hush, Alex. It’s too late for this shit. We can talk in the morning. Over breakfast.”
“You said you didn’t do breakfast!” Alex squawked around the hand over his mouth, eyes wide.
“Yeah, well... There’s a lot of things maybe I ought to start doing.” And he would. Alex made him... want to. To do more. To be more. He’d start with Alex. Alex needed and friend and Ryland...
Ryland needed to remember what it was like to be human, and Alex could help him with that.
As he settled the other onto the couch that night, setting Tylenol and water on the table once more, Ryland began to devise a plan. The plan for how he’d maybe get out of this funk, make a friend. For once in so long, he actually felt like things might go well. He didn’t know why, but something about this Alex guy made him want to try.
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