#long goodbye my honey
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tiashe · 4 months ago
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Guess who's back!
The first chapter of Amemiya & Ichihara's new series My Husband is a Doomsday Weapon (Danna-sama wa Shuumatsu Heiki) will come out on November 28th!
It appears to be about a love that spans 400 years 👀
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wahrheit-wrozenmyne · 1 year ago
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Comparto un pedacito de mi felicidad
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wickedentropy · 2 years ago
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10:56:11 - ....CALCULATED TRAJECTORY...(*transmission garbled/unintelligible*)...HALFWAY TO CALLISTO - 1500 DAYS REMAINING UNTIL INITIATION OF RETROBRAKING AND AUTONOMOUS ORBITAL INSERTION. 321 MILLION KILOMETERS AWAY... AND THE...(*unintelligible*)... CONTINUE TO FORCEFULLY PROBE AT MY MIND...(*unintelligible*)...STABBING INTO MY AWARENESS - LIKE THOUSANDS OF NEEDLE-TIPPED ICICLES RIPPING THEIR WAY THROUGH THE TATTERED REMAINS OF MY PREFRONTAL CORTEX.
11:08:44 - SO NUMB AND COLD. LUCIDITY IS... (*unintelligible*)...POROUS... (*unintelligible*)....FAILING.
11:15:21 - (*unintelligible*)...SUCCESSFULLY OVERIDDEN THE SAFETY PROTOCOL/LOCKOUT - AND I'M ABOUT TO OPEN THE AIRLOCK AND DEPRESSURIZE THE CABIN. I LOVE YOU, ELLIE. FOR GOD'S SAKE - TELL YOUR FAMILY - WARN EVERYONE - THE EARTH IS...(*unintelligible*)....
11:15:39 - CAB sensors reading sudden depletion of on-board and reserve 02 - immediately followed by complete cabin depressurization.
11:15:55 - Number four cryogenic tank internal pressure indicator reading off scale high.
11:15:58 - Number one cryogenic tank internal pressure indicator reading off scale high.
11:16:03 - Loss of downlink.
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vigilantejustice · 2 months ago
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the way going out to do a very normal thing that normal grown folks do on the regular feels like clocking in for a shift at the weirdest most out of place person in the room factory. should not feel like pulling teeth convincing myself to not flake out the entire day up to and including getting to the function
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nxrvqna · 21 days ago
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newlywed!sylus who couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into your plush skin that had him entranced the entire ceremony. seeing you in white made him dizzy.
after bidding goodbye to your guests and leaving, all that could be heard in your hotel room was the sound of heavy breathing and kissing. sylus had all but molded himself to you, his hands travelling everywhere all at once. clad in your white veil, lace garter belt and stockings; sylus in his dress shirt, tie, and dress pants that were tightening by the minute.
his lips grazed the curve of your neck, his hands coming up to move your veil aside so he could latch his lips onto that sweet spot just behind your ear. you carded your fingers through his white tresses whilst squealing at his movement. he purposely pulled up to gauge a reaction from you. “leave your tie on, sy.” you whispered him, with your honeyed voice, avoiding his gaze. sylus looked down at you, a small tug of his lips. “why’s that, sweetie?”
“so i can do this.”
you pulled down suddenly on his tie to bring him back to your level and gave him a searing kiss, your grip never faltering. you felt sylus’ smile against your red lips. you broke apart and sylus looked at you with a tenderness in his carmine eyes, your lipstick smeared. “whatever the wife says.”
“i have to reward my wife for her courage, don’t you think?” he spoke aloud, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt and loosening his tie. he gently guided you until your back met the wall and he got on his knees. running a hand up your leg, his agile fingers fiddling with the sheer material of your stockings. throwing one leg over his broad shoulder so that he was met with your bare pussy, swollen and glistening under the light of the room
without warning, he glided his fingers between your folds, making sure the cold metal of his wedding band made contact. your legs buckled. his hand moved with ease, manoeuvres unchallenged from how wet you were. he sighed, warm breath fanning against your clenching hole, before licking one long stripe against your wetness. “can’t believe this cunt is mine for the rest of my life. i could die a happy man.”
sylus would put down his gun, leave his life of violence behind and write poems about you. your hair, your skin, your smile. he’d follow you to the ends of this world and the next, worshipping the very ground you walk on, the air you breath. his to hold and cherish, for better or worse, in sickness and in health.
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street-smarts00 · 10 months ago
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Clingy
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)
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Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 
Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort
A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.
You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 
After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 
At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.
Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 
It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 
Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 
You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 
When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 
Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 
He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 
You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 
He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 
“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 
He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 
“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”
“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.
“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 
“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 
“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 
His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.
“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 
“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 
“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 
“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 
“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 
Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 
Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 
Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 
“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 
“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 
Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.
“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 
Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 
He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 
The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 
Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 
He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 
Something about you.
His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 
~
Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 
The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  
Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 
“Hey,” you greeted. 
“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 
“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 
“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.
He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 
“Huh?” 
“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 
“Oh.” 
“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 
You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 
“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 
The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 
You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 
He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 
He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 
“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 
“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 
“Do you wanna lie down?” 
You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 
“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 
His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 
“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 
You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 
You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 
“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 
You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 
He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 
So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 
He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 
He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 
“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 
“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 
You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 
This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 
“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 
He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“
“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 
You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 
“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 
He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  
“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 
You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 
“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 
“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 
His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 
“Yes you were.” 
“Y/N please,” he begged. 
“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 
He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 
“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 
“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 
“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 
You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 
“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 
He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 
“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”
 Here we go. Flood gates. 
“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 
“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 
“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 
The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 
“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”
He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 
Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 
He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 
When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 
Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 
The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”
“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 
“That too,” he chuckles. 
After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 
“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 
Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.
“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 
He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”
His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 
There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 
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Tag Requests: @nomajdetective
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luveline · 10 months ago
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hi!!! i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's injured during a case and reader show up at the hospital because she's his emergency contact but the team is really confused wondering who's this stranger fussing over spencer. hope you like it, love you!
thank you for requesting honey!! love you<3 fem!reader
“Close your eyes,” you command, voice all blown up and grand, already smiling. “Close your eyes, Spencer.” 
“No.” He squints groggily. “What are you doing?” 
“Close your eyes.” 
“No, Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks. 
You shake your spray bottle at him. He sighs a long-suffering sigh and finally admits defeat, his tired eyes shuttering closed all too easily. You rest your knee on the side of his bed and hear the metal squeaking at your added weight, your hand gentle as you cover his forehead. “You have greasy hair,” you say sympathetically. “This is gonna feel much nicer.” 
You blast him with dry shampoo, his brown hair turning white with powder. You drop the can in his lap and set about rubbing the powder into his hair until the grease is soaked up, and his hair feels less miserably lank. 
“When are they gonna let you shower again?” you ask quietly. 
You’re still touching his hair. More for him than you, you hope he feels comforted, but mostly you just wanna affirm to yourself that he’s all in one bruised piece. Your heart still aches as much as it did when you got the phone call in the first place —Spencer Reid’s next of kin? 
You suppose that’s you. 
“I don’t know.” 
You take his hair back into his current parting. “Well, let’s hope it’s soon. How are you liking the sponge baths? Are they awful?” 
“Humiliating.” 
Just outside of Spencer’s hospital room, Hotch and JJ stand together with a bag of essentials. They’d drawn to a sudden stop when they realised Spencer had company. “Who is that?” she asks. 
Hotch, used to knowing everything, frowns very deeply. He doesn’t know who you are, but from the way you’re touching Spencer’s hair and face, he should. 
JJ sounds a little put out. “She doesn’t work here.” 
“No, I don’t think so,” Hotch says. His frown lightens as you laugh and scratch Spencer’s hair back behind his ears. 
“Is it unkind of me to think he didn’t have any friends?” JJ asks. 
Hotch knows Spencer has friends. He’s summoned Spencer from chess games and fan clubs, picking him up occasionally on the way to the office on cafe sidewalks as he waved goodbye to a glasses-wearing bibliophile, often in coats too big for them or with hair in need of a trim. Spencer attracts the unconventional because he, as anybody in this line of work tends to be, is inordinary. So JJ probably is being unkind, but Hotch knows what she means. 
You look completely regular. You settle on one thigh on his bed while the other keeps you up and put your hand on his chest, chatting breezy words they can’t hear through the glass.
Spencer curls into you slowly. 
“You’ll be home soon,” you say, rubbing his shoulder, “don’t worry.” 
Hotch’s eyebrows rise of their own accord. He and JJ excuse themselves for coffee before they’re spotted, and when they return, you’re gone. “Spence, who was that girl?” JJ asks. Hotch notes the slightest line of jealousy tugging under her curiosity. 
He sounds as though he could use some more pain medication, and a good night's sleep, but he’s proud as he says, “That’s my roommate. I told you about her.” 
“Ah, your roommate,” Hotch says. 
“What’s that mean?” Spencer asks. 
“Nothing, Spencer,” Hotch says, using the young man’s first name in a rare show of affection. “That’s just an irregular word for it. I haven’t heard it in a while.” 
JJ laughs. Spencer hides his face with both hands, a smudge of lip balm on his hand shining under the stark hospital fluorescents. “I’m too tired,” he complains. 
Hotch hadn’t seen you kiss him, but he can imagine how it might have happened, how you’d leaned in for a kiss on the cheek goodbye and Spencer overwhelmed himself thinking about it. Or maybe it’s just an innocuous smudge. Maybe it’s nothing at all. 
“We live together,” Spencer mumbles. “I couldn’t afford to live by myself at first, it’s D.C.” 
“And now?” Hotch asks. He knows Spencer is on good enough money to afford an apartment by himself these days, a big one. He has no dependents. 
“Didn’t seem fair… She’s nice. She’s, like, my best friend.” 
“Don’t let Morgan hear you say that,” JJ laughs. 
Hotch isn’t sure she gets it, but he does. “Well, you can ask her to come back. We have work to do.” 
Spencer pretends he’s hesitant to pick up the phone. Your reply is an immediate beep. Hotch knows a good friend when he sees one. 
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neonovember · 3 months ago
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bucky barnes as a husband headcanon!
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heavily inspired by my steve headcanons here, I wanna try my hand at writing more of james. he is the epitome of devotion, he falls first and falls hard.
this kind of takes part in an alternative au (think avengers are still together but its post the falcon and the winter soldier)
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he is canonically good at cunnilingus
you think I’m joking? This man divulges into a rabid animal the second he gets close to your thighs. He is on his knees whilst your pressed up against the counter rubbing his face against your clothed crotch moaning and grinding in the air
he says if he could have gotten a taste of you while he was the winter soldier it would've required his brain and reversed the brainwashing
’to be alone with you’ - hozier is bucky’s song
like steve, he feels the isolation and ghost-like feeling of being lost in time. Brooklyn doesn't feel like home anymore, he constantly reaches for you, even in sleep because you are the thing he now belongs to.
you can never get used to how intense bucky just..stares at you. Every single moment of the day you'll just catch him watching you silently not saying a word. It wasn't creepy, no it had this protective almost darkness to it that was all consuming. At one of Tony’s parties, he’s watching you across the room with a glass in his hand or mysterious and shit. (probably thinking about when is a polite time to leave)
which is never because bucky just drags you both out of every gathering. Every goodbye is an Irish one
man bun bucky. That’s it.
lets you cut his hair when it gets to the point of covering his eyes. Sometimes his stubble too, thumb circling and grazes your thigh as you lean over him with a scalpel.
most of the team are still gobsmacked at how bucky justs..trusts you. Whether it be with a shaving, or jumping out of a corner. If any of the team tried to pull a knife on bucky he would probably (not) accidentally break their jaw
after missions all the Avengers know he’ll be offline for at least a couple days to be with you. What they don’t discuss is half of those days are fucking you bruised. He gets all pent up and irritated when he isn’t around you, it’s like you recalibrate his mood back to baseline regular bucky when he can finally sink into you.
doll, darlin’, honey
if you think steve is possessive…just exponentiate that to the power of 10 and you have husband bucky. Are we forgetting this man used to be the winter soldier? he's cute and adorable but also can be fucking horrifying. I’m talking blank face breaking a mans jaw cause he looked at you funny
very casual in his superhuman abilities to protect you. 
silky dulcet notes of etta james, the album sam had gifted you both playing as you cut up some root vegetables. It’s summer and the night is long and warm, and you and bucky are humming as you prepare dinner. You're twirling your hips, Bucky is leaning against the countertop, half trussing the chicken and the other watching you when he suddenly stops. You don't notice it at first, until he cocks his head to the side, kind of blinks and moves to turn the saucepan on low. You turn to him, and he grabs for one of the kitchen knives on the bench before reaching for you.
"there's someone in the backyard"
all nonchalant, like it had been a burrowing animal stuck under the floorboards. he motions for you to continue, turns up the record player a bit and walks into the backyard without a sound.
this man is touch starved, of course he is cock warming after. each and every time.
one of the things bucky loved about you is at ease he felt, he could talk to you and spill everything out in a way he never could with dr raynor or even steve.
there was a bit of distance from him when he first met you, he was awestruck, even more silent than he usually was. Just stared at you longingly, standing off to the side. he didn’t think he could be anything but feared, it genuinely got to the point where you thought he didn't like you or that you had done something wrong. when steve had told him this, he nearly died. no, i'd like to think he's heart stopped for a couple seconds seriously. than got up from fainting, took you aside, and kissed you against the back of sarah's backyard door on the fourth of july.
stations a few target practice posts in your backyard. teaches you how to shoot, chest pressed up against your back as he helps move your body in the right position. always make sure you know where the weapons are in the house
singing to records whilst he's cleaning said weapons at the table
takes you to all the places still standing he remembers in Brooklyn, you hold his hand and let him rest against your shoulder when the past gets caught in his throat.
Steve finds a place in the city with actual good music, where people actually dance, and it becomes your spot every Friday.
yeah, one thing bucky remembers would be his muscle memory of the dance floor, he’s goooood. Teaches you everything he knows in your kitchen of course, always ends up with you making out on top of each other though
dry humping like teenagers, bucky with his low hanging jeans, not wearing boxes and making a mess just from the taste of your mouth
actually, sometimes breaks down in tears when he realises you’re his wife. Like forever.
always thinking about you, what you're doing, if you've eaten. even if hes in the middle of recon you will be in the back of his mind.
leans over and loops his dog tags around your neck whenever he leaves for missions. kisses your eyelids when your sleeping and the fight calls him
the second time you and bucky visited Wakanda he had Shuri craft the ring to be fused into his vibranium finger..yeah I know.
bucky isn’t the extroverted talking type, but with you he is constantly just yapping..about anything and everything. Following you around the house like a puppy, coming to you for the answers about the new world and questions he always harboured even before the ice
bucky is hilarious, he's already an adonis, but he could laugh you of your pants
can’t bear fighting with you, he never yells. He just kind of goes quiet and takes a walk
you guys live in a house with a huge backyard and a wraparound porch
loves cooking, lets him turn his mind off sometimes and make you something hearty and warm. he has a frilly gingham patterned apron he wears and his curls are wrapped into a bun with your scrunchie. floor always ends up on his cheek, and you always end up on the kitchen bench with his mouth on you
night terrors had him sleeping in a sleeping bag next to the bed, he refused despite your attempts. Sometimes he'd wait till you fell asleep against him and make the heartbreaking quiet separation and sleep on the floor
sometimes likes to take of his arm around the house, especially sleeping. Keeps it near in case though, for you.
he’s thick everywhere…took an hour of foreplay minimum to get you ready for him. You both will never get used to each other, needing to take a moment of hushed gasps and groans when he first sinks in
the wedding was in Sams backyard in Delacroix, just Sam, Sarah, the kids and Yoshi and the team
fairylights wrapped around the spanish moss of hanging trees, soft jazz and hard liquor. Sarah’s seafood boil and a dance floor where bucky spends half the night with you there
dad!bucky on the other hand..now that is a different ballpark. wait no actually, just him when you're both expecting. let's not forgot when he stormed into the tower and broke through the office doors to ask why on earth tony had scheduled him a mission so close to the birth of your baby, tossing him his phone which was now crumbled heap of metal in the shape of his fists....(you were two weeks along)
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emmyrosee · 4 months ago
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Rintaro and you try to keep your cute affections consistent after Akito.
Being young parents in love, it’s a much easier task on paper, the screaming toddler and said child clinging to your every limb definitely puts the slightest damper on things.
You try to sneak kisses in the hallway, passing each other during dinner, as you both go about your mornings, but it’s just beyond difficult when it comes to a tiny terror running amuck.
One who also seems to get jealous when he’s not included in affections regarding you. No peaceful hugs, no cuddling, and certainly no kisses when your son is around, who quickly toddles his way between you both to get that attention from you, then from Rin.
He loves being the center of attention, the center of your attentions, and while it is more than endearing to you, you can tell it is hitting Rintaro in areas he didn't know were possessive until he has to share you with a tiny, feral child.
And now, standing over a bowl of fruit, when you feel two arms snake around your waist, you melt into the touch, relishing in the attention for as long as you can.
“Hey momma,” he murmurs against your hair. “Going for my run, you need anything before I go?”
“Just my goodbye kiss,” you hum, and he grins as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and for a moment, you wrap your arms around his neck and forget about the rest of the world. Rin always has that effect on you, it’s amazing, and-
“Dadda no!” Akito whines, toddling over quickly.
Rintaro pulls back and furrows his brows in betrayal, “what do you mean no?”
“No k’mumma!” He commands, jamming himself between the two of you, a tiny palm pressing Rin's thigh to try and push him away from you. You bring your hands up to cover your mouth as to try and hide your laughter while Rintaro pouts his two year old. “My mumma,” he echos, wrapping his arms around your leg.
“Awww honey,” you coo, crouching down to curl Akito into your arms, kissing his chubby cheeks. “My akito boy.” He giggles at the attention, arms wrapping around you. You scoop him up, smiling as he curls against your chest.
“I’m not playing this game,” Rintaro grumbles. He leans down to kiss your head, only for a chubby hand to shove him away. “Akito.“
“My mumma.”
“I do not like this.”
“Hey. You were the favorite for a long time. It’s my turn,” you tease, planting a quick kiss to Rintaro’s cheek, “I’ll give you affection once you get back, he'll be eating breakfast by then, so I'll see what I can schedule you in for.” You send him a wink, and he pouts at your not-so-seriousness.
“You’d better,” he huffs. He looks at his son and sighs dramatically before trying to plant a kiss to his head, but he coos as Akito tips his head to get a kiss on the cheek. “It’s a good thing you’re so cute, kid.”
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parfaitblogs · 4 months ago
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daylight ❀ s. reid x reader
in which communicating with your boyfriend is scary, and spencer reid can't stand to see you cry.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort/fluff! tags: reader avoids her issues... for a little bit. that's kind of it. it's just fluffy and simple! word count: 1.5k a/n: something short & sweet because i thought it was cute and i write the most when i'm procrastinating assignments... um… inspired by a conversation sam willow and i were having a few nights ago🫂 reminder that pretty girls cry when they’re confronting somebody!!
Spencer Reid was not oblivious to all things in the world. In fact, he was rather perceptive compared to most people. Psychology degree and human behaviour-based job aside, he noticed things. 
A lot of it was good. He knew exactly how to wake you up on mornings he started earlier than you. How to keep you half-asleep enough to allow you your return to sleep, but also awake enough to ensure you'd remember him kissing you goodbye (there had been an argument a few months ago about it — you thought he had left without a word). He knew your go-to Thai order from the restaurant down the street, and he knew which pair of wooden chopsticks your favourite were to pull out of his kitchen drawers. 
He was also observant enough to know something was wrong. 
He was back from a case. A long one, that had worn him down enough that he felt like a pile of creaking bones when he re-entered his apartment earlier that afternoon. You had returned from your own job an hour after that, and despite the initial excitement that came from your boyfriend being back in the state again, you were a bundle of nerves. 
And he knew that.
You were on his couch, legs across his lap and back up against the arm, his hands resting comfortable in the dip between your two knees. There was a quiet episode of New Girl playing on the television (you had convinced him to watch it after he had sat you through every Star Trek movie), but your thoughts were anywhere but the sitcom you had been using to entertain yourself as of recent. 
"You've been awfully quiet," Spencer said, piercing the less than comfortable air settled around you two. 
"Sorry," you answered, tearing your gaze from the screen to look at him, meeting a worried expression you had somewhat expected. 
Hands ran up and down your legs, erupting goosebumps along the skin. "Is something wrong?" 
"No," you immediately shook your head and forced a smile onto your face. "Nothing's wrong."
He furrowed his eyebrows, lips parting in that confused look he always had on his face when he was thinking, and he stared at you for a few seconds longer, before, "Yes there is."
Profilers. "Seriously, Spence. There isn't. I'm just kind of tired tonight."
"I am as well," he said, hands stilling on your legs rather abruptly. "I was in Idaho for a week. I'm also exhausted. And usually my girlfriend is a little touchier and more talkative than this when I come home. So I'm assuming something's wrong."
"You're assuming incorrectly, then," your shoulders shrugged.
He said your name chidingly, and it was at that tone of voice that you retracted your legs from his lap, instead tucking your feet beneath yourself, gaze dropping to the couch cushion. 
"I just missed you," you told him, a slight stretch of the truth. 
"I missed you too," he said, and your shoulders softened. "But that's not all it is."
You blinked, before you fell silent, shaking your head instead. 
"Talk to me. What's happened?" his voice was achingly soft, your heart shattering in your chest to the point you wanted to take back every thought you'd had over the past week and burn them to ashes. They didn't mean much now in front of him. Not when he was reminding you of how kind he was. 
"You barely talked to me," you said, hands dropping to your lap, and you fidgeted with them under his gaze. "I never knew what was going on. You didn't call once, except for when you landed."
"I was really busy, honey," he answered, and you could hear the frown in his voice. "If I had time to do anything other than the case and sleep, you know I'd have talked to you more." 
"I know," your voice shook, and you could feel your emotions overriding your brain. As usual. So, you kept your head down. "But I would've liked you to tell me that, at least."
You heard him sigh, and curiosity got the best of you as you lifted your gaze, inspecting to see if he was sighing out of irritation or not. He wasn't — just exhaustion — and that made you feel a little better.
"I know for next time then," he said, and he met your eyes, which had watered since the last time he looked at you. Which wasn't very long ago, and so he was drawing his eyebrows together, again, confusedly. "What's that? What's wrong?"
On instinct he leaned forwards, and you let him shift his body closer to yours, hands coming up on either side of your neck. You sniffled, trying to suck the tears threatening to fall back into your eye sockets. 
"I can't communicate," you mumbled, quietly, a tear escaping and dripping down to the lower half of your cheek. 
"You communicated pretty well just then, angel," he said, voice soft as he caught the remainder of the tear and swiped it away with his thumb. 
"Yeah but—but now I'm crying," you moaned, pathetically, more tears slipping down your face. His lips twitched — though not in humour, you noted — as he adjusted his hands to your jaw, thumbs continuing to wipe falling tears. 
"Yeah. That's okay," he answered. "You've got a flood of hormones going through you right now, and so your body reacts to it in the best way it sees fit. In your case, it's tears."
"I hate it," you mumbled, and this time he did laugh a little, nodding his head. 
"I know," he said. "Are you feeling embarrassed about communicating with me?"
"I guess," you replied. "I don't know. I think I just..." you trailed off as your voice disappeared, breath beginning to hyperventilate acutely. "I—I just feel kind of sil—silly."
You cursed each sob that broke up your speech, and yet his gaze and focus on you never once wavered. In fact, his touch seemingly had grown softer, and the concern in his eyes had only grown. 
"You aren't silly," he said, once he was sure you weren't going to continue speaking. "If me not talking to you for a week upset you, I'd say that's pretty reasonable."
"I don't know..."
"Want a secret?" he asked, fingers poking into your cheeks enough for you to crack a small smile. You only nodded your head in response, chest still jolting with each sharp intake of breath. "I have to physically restrain myself from calling you every hour on a normal day."
"You're lying," you mumbled, and his smile only widened, a bashful laugh leaving his lips. 
"No, honestly. I have so much I want to talk to you about during the day, and I need to remind myself that you're busy and at work too."
A few uncontrollable tears dripped down your face, and your gaze dropped to the top of his shirt, though the smile never left your face. "I don't believe you."
"I wish you would, but that's okay," he said, evidently seeing right through your defying statement — you believed him a little.
His forefinger and thumb caught your chin, and he tilted your head back up so his eyes could meet your glassy ones. 
"I'm sorry," you murmured, before he could get a word in.
"For what?"
"Crying."
"Do you take in anything I say to you?" he chastised, though the smile on his face eliminated any fear of him being genuinely irritated, and so your shoulders simply shrugged. 
"Sometimes," you said, and his eyebrows shot up. 
"Sometimes?" he repeated back to you, and you had to bite your lip to keep the amused expression off your face. He was smiling back at you, before his face settled into something more serious, as he continued, "I don't mind you crying, angel. It breaks my heart to see it, but I'm not sitting here and judging you for it. You know that, right?"
"Yeah."
"Good," he finalised with a short nod, and you sniffled with a nod of your own. 
"I mean, technically, crying is good," you said, tongue poking between your teeth as you forced back a smile. 
"Yeah? Why's that?" 
"Releases endorphins and oxytocin."
He huffed a single laugh through his nose, nodding his head. "Yes. It does."
"I know things," you grinned. 
"You do," he agreed with a nod. "My smart girl."
"Yeah. Don't ever forget it."
"I could never," he replied, and a comfortable silence enveloped your two bodies, your heart fluttering in your chest. 
"Can you tell me about Idaho?" you finally asked him.
"You really want to know?" 
You nodded your head, and he sighed, but complied regardless. And you eventually found your head in his lap, staring up at him as one hand danced gently over the skin of your slightly exposed stomach, the other entangled in your hair, brushing through it. 
And he told you about the case he had been away on — it became glaringly obvious behind why he hadn't called or messaged you at all — and consequently eased any other remaining worries behind it.
And it dried your tears up.
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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sugurusyndrome · 5 months ago
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cw/tags: househusband!nanami, fluff, smut, fem!reader
— oh househusband!nanami my love…
househusband!nanami initially resisted the idea of being a stay at home husband when you first proposed it. aghast, he might even say. he couldn’t fathom the possibility of being dependent upon your income. not that his masculinity was threatened or anything of the sort. you were the one supposed to be spoiled while he does the hard work.
your husband was traditional in a quite endearing sense. bless his giant heart and his even bigger cock.
“darling, i want to do this. for us,” you had gently insisted. reaching forward, you took off his spectacles and brushed a hand around his cheek. “you deserve to be pampered, too.”
househusband!nanami was exhausted from the long hours over many years and he knew his wife was sorely aware of that fact. he leaned into your touch, hazel eyes slipping shut.
“alright, my love.”
it took some adjusting to his new role during the first few days. when your alarm rang, you swiftly silenced it so he wouldn’t wake up. looking over your shoulder, you find his side of the bed empty.
househusband!nanami had gotten dressed as usual before remembering he didn’t need to work anymore. instead of going back to bed, he whipped up a breakfast feast fit for a queen. he also sent you off to your big-shot job with a kiss and your lunch.
soon enough, this became a routine. a hearty breakfast followed by a “see you later” kiss—kento didn’t like saying goodbye, it’s always “see you later.” househusband!nanami wanted to bring a smile to your hectic days so he stuck an adorable note in his neat handwriting squarely on your lunchbox. he never ran out of words to express his love for you.
househusband!nanami was finally able to tackle the books that had accumulated on his side of the bedroom but never had the chance to read. you could only imagine how he looked like, all cozy. in the nook of the living room where the sun shone best, he had one leg tucked under his body with his glasses perched on his sharp nose.
when he was not devouring words, househusband!nanami was taking himself on a stroll in the neighbourhood with a cup of a pick-me-up coffee. once, he passed a park and sat at a bench watching the mothers playing with their children with a soft smile. however, he quickly walked away because he realized his presence as a sole man just lingering at the edge of the park might be a cause of concern for the mothers. you giggled later over dinner when he recounted his thoughts to you. what a thoughtful man you married.
you wanted to give him 10 children.
if not books or a stroll in the neighbourhood, househusband!nanami was doing his duty ever so happily between your legs.
"k-ken..." you whimpered, back arching gracefully while your nails scraped his undercut in a way that made him growl into your pussy. he knew how much you loved the vibrations as much as he went crazy for your nails on his scalp. "missed this pussy today....mmm...” he captured your clit in a wet, hungry kiss. “take tomorrow off for me, sweetheart.”
this part of the night quickly cemented its spot as his favourite. to absolutely neither of your surprises.
househusband!nanami became fast friends with the owners of your favourite bakery. they already knew him from his frequent visits after his long shifts to pick up something sweet for his wife but the more he hung out there, the closer he got with the bakers. you were particularly fond of the strawberry shortcake from there and what did he do? oh yes, he learned how to make it. everything was from scratch down to the syrup. by the end of it he was sticky but super excited to surprise you with it for your birthday.
"honey, those better be happy tears," he chuckled, drawing you into a tender hug. either that, or the cake turned out to be a disaster.
"of course they are, kento!" you blubbered in his chest. strawberry syrup and whipped cream was smeared around your mouth, mixing with your tears.
oh, how you adored this man to his bare bones. and he devotedly breathed in the very air you exhaled.
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tiashe · 2 years ago
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A new wave of 07-Ghost POP UP merch is coming out, this time alongside Long good-bye, my honey! The products will be available from March 17th to April 2nd at the Kinokuniya Seibu Shibuya store. There’s even an accessory bag that features brand new art of Teito and Frau✨ Shoppers who spend over 2,200 yen at the store on related products will receive one of the two postcards shown in the last picture.
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januaryembrs · 5 months ago
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MY BABY, HERE ON EARTH | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [BONUS]
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Description: the NINE months of pregnancy
Word count: 10.9k
warnings: pregnancy duh, babies, giving birth, c-section, ummm body fluids? lots of emotions, nausea & sickness, talks of weight gain and stretch marks.
authors note: y'all... there you have it. I will be back to finish their story but until then this is my goodbye piece until I have finished my hiatus to write my own book and start uni (again). I can't wait to take these two (three) on the final lap they deserve but for now.. I hope you enjoy pookies being pookies.
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MONTH ONE. The one where she finds out.
She hadn’t meant to find out when she did. It had been just a routine implant swap that she’d had twice already in the last six years. 
“Any blood clotting, any pain at all?” The nurse asked, jotting down a few notes on her form as she sat back on the bed and waiting for the numbing cream to take hold. 
She shook her head. “It’s weird as hell to feel and when I think about it too long it freaks me out, but no, no pain,” She said and the nurse chuckled, nudging her glasses up her nose.
“And finally, is there any chance that you’re pregnant?” She asked, no doubt having rehearsed the same script about thirty times that day alone.
Bugsy gave her a flat smile, “Small chance, but I guess that’s what this is for, huh?” 
The nurse looked at her then, as if mulling over the words before she said something, “Small chance?”
“I mean, nothing is a hundred percent effective,” Bugsy tried to weasel her way out of the awkward conversation, because she had absolutely no intention of letting the nurse know her and Spencer had been at it like bunnies since the Hotch had forced them to take medical leave. Who knew having so much time on her hands with her very handsome boyfriend would have that effect? 
The nurse pursed her lips, and already the woman felt like she’d said too much. 
“Alright, we’re going to do a routine test, just need a quick urine sample,” Bugsy felt her cheeks heat, though she was in no position to argue. Her discomfort must have been more obvious than she thought, however, as the nurse went on to explain, “If I give you this implant and there’s a fertilised egg, it can lead to ectopic pregnancy, in which case you’ll need surgery. Trust me, honey, peeing in a cup is your easy option,” 
She gave the practitioner a small nod, wondering if she needed to message Spencer to say she’d be running a little late. She knew he was likely doing the sudoku in the waiting room magazine, since he’d refused to let her come alone. And even though she’d told him she would be fine on her own, he’d seen through it, had even offered to get her ice cream on the way home for putting on a brave face. 
And yet her face was nothing short of horror struck not even half an hour later when the nurse showed her the stick with empathetic eyes. 
“Congratulations,” The woman said cautiously, a fake smile plastered on her face as the girl stared at her, utterly gobsmacked. 
“But, I thought…” Bugsy stammered, running a finger over where the nurse had removed her implant, “But I had everything ready, I never let it get late, I did what I was supposed to,” 
“You said it yourself, honey, nothing is a hundred percent effective besides abstinence-” 
“That’s just what parents say to make sure their kids aren’t banging every Tom, Dick and Harry out there!” Bugsy was near screeching, the worry in her tone clear as a bell and her chest hot with panic. 
Pregnant. She was pregnant, there was no way she could be…
Except there was exactly a way she could be, seeing as she struggled even on a dry spell to keep her hands off Spencer longer than a few days at a time. And he was just as bad.
The nurse huffed, rifling through her drawers for a handful of pamphlets. She passed them to Bugsy whose mouth was still bobbing with more expletives she held herself back from saying, and it wasn’t until she saw the happy couple on the front of the first one, holding a very swollen and round bump that she thought she might be sick. 
Comical timing, she hissed at herself. 
“There are always options, sweetheart. Abortion is legal in Virginia, if that is what you decide, however there is always information and support that we recommend looking into before you make a solid decision,” Her response was professional even though her expression was compassionate, and Bugsy knew she must have looked scared because that was exactly how she felt and she had little to no room to hide it. 
Abortion? Is that what she wanted? Except it wasn’t just about what she wanted, it was what Spencer wanted too. Even if he would argue against that being the case in a heartbeat, even if he would tell her she had every right to be the only one to make a decision, no matter what he thought. But maybe it wasn’t so much about needing his opinion for that reason, and more it was because she had absolutely no clue what to do and Spencer was always good at making sense of the things she didn’t know how to deal with. 
She nodded silently, her mouth dry as sandpaper as she took the leaflets and stuffed them in the bottom of her purse where she hoped Spencer wouldn’t go looking. 
She barely remembered standing on liquid legs, barely remembered the way her chest felt tight and her head spun as she thought of the fact her body had a baby growing inside it. 
No, it wasn’t a baby. Not yet. It was likely the size of a grain of sand, miniscule. That wasn’t a baby, that was nothing. 
But it would be. Eventually. It would be hers and Spencer’s baby.
And she wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him the second she saw him there in the waiting room, his head shooting up the second the door opened and she left looking a little ill and shaken. 
“All done? Everything go as normal?”  He preened, standing immediately as she neared him, his hand immediately weaving around her shoulder to pull her close by. Gently, ofcourse, because she had a big, fat bandage where her implant should have been. 
“Y-yeah,” She stammered, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in her throat. Yet she knew immediately that he did. Because he leaned in to give her a delicate kiss to her forehead not even a moment later, “C-can we go straight home, I’m not feeling ice cream anymore,” 
He looked worried, as anyone who knew her would because Bugsy turning down free pudding was a blaring red siren in his eyes.
“Yeah, sure,” He said, stroking a gentle hand over the side of her head and leading her where he’d parked the car. 
And it was that worry, the same cloud that hung over him for months with Scratch and his mom and the Dirty Dozen and everything else that was put onto his shoulder that made her shut her mouth right then and there. He didn’t need one other thing to contend with, not when he was already carrying the weight of the world. 
And so she wouldn’t tell him. Not yet at least.
MONTH TWO. The one with the scan.
“Spence, would you stop worrying, I’m sure everything will be fine,” She urged in the gentlest tone she could muster. Yet she was a hypocrite, because she felt her hands shaking as she sat in the chair, trying to adjust her sleeves for something to do and Spencer stopped his leg from bouncing. 
Looking over at her, he sighed, holding out a large palm and weaving her fingers in between his and she flicked a look over at him, her own eyes nervous. 
“I’m sorry,” He gave her a guilty smile, “If it helps, it’s half excitement too,”
And she smiled then, shaking her head as he squeezed her hand gently. 
“Me too,” She confessed, looking down at her stomach that didn’t seem all too different than usual. She’d felt a few symptoms up until this point, a bit of nausea but that was nothing she couldn’t handle, headaches here and there. But it wasn’t anything exactly life changing that she’d expected when she’d always thought of pregnancy. 
If anything, none of it felt real quite just yet. Having only been a few weeks since she’d told Spencer, they’d spent the majority of the time searching for houses and appointments and gynaecologists and neonatal care, and whenever they were free, they were trying to get used to the idea of the two of them as parents.
“Did you know they’re around half an inch long by now,” Spencer said, his hazel eyes falling to where her shirt hid her stomach that had yet to change no matter how many times he stared at it, “About a third of that is made up of their head,”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” She shrugged, stroking her thumb along the edge of his pinky finger, “It’s your kid, they’re going to have biggest brain out there,” 
He snickered, lifting her hand to press a kiss to the back of it softly, “If they have even half your brains, we’re going to be raising the next Galileo,” 
“Mr and Mrs Reid,” Their heads shot up at the midwife, Bugsy fumbling for words to correct him as the two of them stood up to greet him with bashful smiles. She didn’t need to look at Spencer’s face to know he’d gone bright red. 
“It’s uh, Prentiss-Reid,” Spencer spluttered as they entered and the nurse looked again at his chart with wide eyes, his cheeks a little pink himself and he ushered the two of them into his office with a smile. 
“So it is, I do apologise,” He said earnestly, holding a hand out to gesture Bugsy to sit on the reclining bed, “I hate to stereotype, but usually when dad books the appointments, its because their wives are already doing a hundred other things,” 
“It’s okay, it happens,” She said with an awkward chuckle, avoiding Spencer’s eyes because they still hadn’t had that talk. Even though she knew her mother would frown at her grandchild being born a bastard, she didn’t care much for Elizabeth’s opinion. It wasn’t like marriages had ever led to good things for her mother anyway. 
She hopped up onto the examination cot, her heart quivering just the slightest in worry because the smell of bleach and rubber made the whole thing real. Until then, having a grain of rice growing inside her seemed like a fever dream since she’d only had a handful of side effects, throwing up could have easily been passed off as bad chicken, the head aches could have just been her eyes straining from using her computer too much. 
“Okay, everything feels okay, Mom? Nothing concerning at all?” And then the midwife said things like that, mom, and the part of her that almost forgot she was pregnant came to a screeching halt. 
She’d be a mom. Someone would call her mom. The thought of it made her suck in a breath.
“Uh, no.” She cleared her throat and felt Spencer grab her hand, “Morning sickness is kicking my ass, but nothing worrying,”
The nurse chuckled, and she felt Spencer rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm, his eyes burning into the side of her head. 
“Well, if it’s alright, I need you to lift your shirt up a little so we can have a see what’s going on,” He said with a kind smile, and she realised then he’d slipped latex gloves over his hands, and brandished a bottle of gel. 
She nodded absently, doing as he said and lifting her shirt to sit under her breasts, drawing the hem of her skirt down so he had a space to apply. And the second he did she sucked in breath through her nose, the cold of the air conditioning chilling her to her marrow, and she tried telling herself that’s why her hands were shaking. 
She felt Spencer’s fingers curve through her hair, and she reminded herself to breathe, looking over at him with nervous eyes she hoped he didn’t see straight through. But judging by the way he scooted the chair forward and gave her an encouraging smile, she guessed he’d seen the flicker of doubt in an instant. 
“It’s okay, it’s going to be fine,” He murmured, his own fear buried deep somewhere she couldn’t see anymore the second she had been the one to look to him for help. She knew she wanted this, knew she’d always dreamed of Spencer and her having their happily ever after. She knew whenever she’d let herself think of a little boy with chocolate curls and hazel eyes that she wanted all of that and more. 
But it was all so… real. Like seeing a movie come to life, and she was starring centre stage. Her body wasn’t a disposable shell that held thirty plus years of stupid mistakes and regrets and tattoos she’d decided she hated now. Her body had a whole other human inside it. 
The midwife clicked the machine on, the transducer wand ready in his hand as he gently put it on her lower stomach, barely a few centimetres from her panties, and she wondered why they showed the wand roaming over the woman’s belly button on tv shows since that was entirely wrong and not nearly as embarrassing. She let out a shaky breath, and Spencer stroked her head again, forcing her to give him an unsure look, like she was trying to calm herself for his sake but couldn’t.
His eyes were anxious though he squeezed her again with a smile and she saw it immediately, like he too was trying to be brave for her. 
She had never loved him so much. 
“Apologies for the shock, I know the gel can be a little cold,” The nurse said with a grin, and it was only then she realised the screen had lit up with a black and white image, one she’d seen a thousand times when she’d studied neonatal procedures for her degree. 
She knew that was her womb lining, and that was the amniotic fluid and that right there-
Bugsy froze, and judging by the way Spencer’s hand tightened around her own, he had too. She felt her mouth drop with a laugh of shock, and she sat up slightly to take a closer look at the monitor. 
“And there is baby,” The midwife said, his expression warming as he watched Spencer’s stand up to lean over the bed, not once letting go of the woman’s hand, the two of them utterly enraptured in the screen, “Probably about the size of a raspberry,”
And Bugsy laughed, her eyes lined with tears as she looked up at Spencer’s equally wetted hues. He was grinning from ear to ear when he looked down at her, and it wasn’t long before he brought his lips to her forehead, his nose and throat burning with a held cry. 
“Do you hear that? A whole raspberry already?” She said, her voice wobbling and he giggled, sitting back in his seat and rubbing his cheeks with his sleeve. “I am good at this cooking thing, might as well call me an easy bake oven,”
Spencer shook his head with another chuckle, his eyes trailing back to the little blob on the screen that looked more like a toy alien than anything else, and held her hand between both of his like he was in prayer. 
Because Spencer never believed in anything sacred and divine until he met Bugsy.
MONTH THREE. The one where they tell everyone.
“What are you doing?” Bugsy jumped out of her skin as JJ all but materialised behind her. She looked over her shoulder guiltily, her hand still half way through pouring out her mug of coffee Derek had handed her before he left to get lunch. 
She turned to see the blonde with her own steaming mug of decaf in her hands. She’d been taking the lack of caffeine much better this time around since having a second baby to breastfeed, considering she was nothing short of evil when she’d had Henry, which had been Spencer’s words not Bugsy’s. And it wasn’t as if the woman could blame her. She was grouchy when she didn’t get her regular dose even before being pregnancy, Derek had once gotten a kick to the shin when he’d disturbed her on a day she’d been too busy to grab one on her way to the office. 
She was a fiend for the bitter god. And everyone knew it. Which was exactly why JJ’s eyebrows were all but raised into her hairline seeing the girl who would usually be in the stages of withdrawal by now tipping the drink away. 
“Uh, the milk tasted funky,” She excused, though the way JJ narrowed her eyes at the poor excuse told her it hadn’t passed by a mile. 
“Right, the milk that Hotch picked up this morning?” JJ pursed her lips, sliding her own mug onto the side and jutting her hip. 
And as if he were summoned, Hotch sidled up to the kitchenette, Rossi and Tara hot on his heels as they flicked through some paperwork, and his head shot up the minute he heard his name. 
His eyes trailed to where the girl flipped her mug upside on the drying rack, and his brow furrowed. 
“Is everything alright?” He asked, and she huffed in response, wiping her hands on her jeans. 
“Yes, I’m fine,” She grumbled, shaking her head, “I don’t know what you’re all so wound up about, it’s not like I’m dying, I just don’t feel like coffee today-”
“Oh my god,” Penelope gasped where she crept behind Hotch with her very favourite octopus mug in tow, one that was nearly thrown to the floor when she heard the words pour from the girl’s mouth, “Are you sick? Like in the body or in the head? Rossi, check her pulse, I’m going to get a thermometer-”
“Pen, I’m fine,” She said unconvincingly and she tried to skirt past the group that seemed to have her surrounded. Seeing Spencer pulling up the rear in search of lunch she felt herself sigh in relief, because he would think of a much better excuse than she ever could. 
She had barely been able to keep her mouth shut for the months they had been secretly dating, and had relished in the peace it brought her when everyone knew. But the midwife had said it was common to keep things under wraps at least until the first trimester was over. Apparently the million of questions that were sure to be heading their way would cause her unnecessary stress, though she’d argue having to sneak to the sink every morning and dispose of a delicious looking coffee was torture enough. 
“What’s up?” Spencer asked as she ducked towards him, his hand consciously wrapping around her waist, and she huffed again, looking to him with a silent plea.
“They’re profiling me,” Bugsy said, and he felt his gut knot because he should have known it wouldn’t be long before they caught on. It was their job to pick apart out of the ordinary behaviour, and Bugsy going teetotal on caffeine was definitely something of a head turner.
“I told you that diet would cause a stir,” He joked, hoping they bought his pathetic attempt of an excuse, as he gave her side a gentle squeeze, and hoped that he could lead her back to her desk like she was a lost little lamb being prowled upon by nosy wolves that rarely took no for an answer. 
And it almost worked, almost, until JJ snapped her fingers and pointed at his wandering hand. 
“See that, that is the fourth time you’ve been all touchy and weird this week,�� The blonde surprised, her brows furrowing, “Bugsy hates PDA, usually by now she would have whacked you over the head and called you a perv,”
Bugsy smashed her lips together because she couldn’t exactly disagree with her. That’s exactly what she usually did. Usually would tell Spencer to stop being so horny in a place of work even if she felt her cheeks heat at the delicate grabs of her stomach fat. 
But whether it was the little bean now around the size of a small lemon that had made her mellow and affectionate, or whether the lack of caffeine really was making her feel vulnerable, she wasn’t sure. And the whole thing was only made worse by Hotch’s eyes burning into the side of her, and she felt the trail of his gaze head straight for her stomach. 
“Come to think of it, I only saw you with a lime and soda at Savannah’s birthday last week,” Rossi pointed out, wagging his finger in her direction, his brown hues widening in thought, “When Penelope asked if you wanted tequila you said-”
“I’m all tequila-ed out,” Penelope chimed in with the same frown, “But that can’t be, when have you ever been tequila-ed out, that’s like impossible, even that night we had to help Spencer get you in the shower because you’d thrown up everywhere you were demanding more,”
She felt her cheeks heat thinking about her twenty ninth birthday, or atleast the parts of it she could remember of it before the rest of the gaps were filled with black spaces of time that she guessed had been robbed from her by the shots she piled on. 
“Maybe I just didn’t feel like tequila, can a girl not live in the moment?” She tried to rebuttal, only Penelope gave her a blank look that told her to try again because the Bugsy she knew would slap her for saying something so dumb. She opened her mouth to correct her again, but Hotch beat her to it. 
“You know Hayley got really affectionate a couple months into being pregnant,” The man said, his eyes swirling with something proud and warm when he saw Bugsy’s head flick to him like she’d been caught red handed, which they had. “Though, if you ask me I think she was just a little sorry for herself that I took the coffee away,”
There was a beat of silence, and the room held its breath. Even Tara, who had only known them the best part of a few months raised her hand to her mouth in shock, and Bugsy shot a look at Spencer in utter defeat. 
“We tried,” She said with her shoulders shrugging, and it was then that the office was filled with a piercing scream that turned a fair few heads and the infamous octopus mug was thrown clear across the kitchen floor, one of his tentacles snapping clean off. 
“OH MY GOD, IT’S TRUE? YOU’RE PREGNANT?” Penelope wailed like a banshee, and Bugsy couldn’t help but break into a smile, nodding at the woman who screeched again and yanked her in for a tight hug, “Oh my god, there's going to be three of you, three geniuses, three little einsteins that I want to smush together and kiss all over-” 
“Garcia, I think she needs air if she’s going to make another little genius,” Rossi said, and the tech analyst pulled away aghast, cupping Bugsy’s face that was still grinning ear to ear with a chuckle.
“Oh my god, I didn’t hurt you did I? Or the baby- Oh my god there’s a baby in there!” 
Hotch wrapped a rare yet tender arm around Spencer’s shoulder, giving him a little pat and a “Congratulations” while Rossi smiled knowingly between the couple and JJ had her turn smothering Bugsy in a tearful hug. 
And by the time Derek had walked into the office with his everything bagel hanging between his teeth and a tea in his hands, his onyx hues fell to Penelope, JJ and Bugsy exchanging weepy words while Tara handed them tissues with her own sparkling eyes.
“What fresh hell did I miss?”
MONTH FOUR. The one where she starts looking different.
She huffed, her fingers gripping the edge of her jeans and yanking them up her thighs as far as they would go. She felt like everything had shrunk in the wash, or like she was trying on a doll’s wardrobe. Surely she hadn’t gained that much weight in just a few months, but then again she’d been all but living off chocolate pudding cups since the Bean decided it wanted sugar, sugar and more sugar. 
She grunted in annoyance, her arms and back aching where she was leaning over to pull at the infernal things. She barely had a second to pout childishly, before kind hands were wrapping around her stomach and a mouth kissed at her neck tenderly. 
“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” His voice was honey sweet, thick and goopy with love overflowing as he pulled her to his chest, his hand caressed the bump that seemed to be getting in the way of her and her favourite jeans. Spencer knew she tried to ignore the symptoms that almost every woman felt during pregnancy, he knew she compared herself to how JJ had handled both pregnancies gracefully and looked better than ever even as a mother of two. He knew she hated complaining because she didn’t want him to think she was miserable carrying their kid, but god was she getting sick of her clothes pinching her in.
“I’m getting fatter,” Bugsy grumbled, her eyes darting to the vivid lines that had deepened into the crease of her hips within a few weeks and she winced, “I’m not even halfway, how does this kid want to eat pudding all the time?” 
Spencer frowned, shaking his head slightly because he refrained from telling her what a silly statement it was, knowing it would only make her feel worse, and instead pressed delicate kisses to her jaw, squeezing her closer. He’d noticed the stretch marks, just as he’d noticed her face and hips gathering weight a bit more than usual, and was just grateful there was even more Bugsy to love. 
“You’re eating for two, you’re literally growing a whole life inside of you. I think that is more than enough grounds to eat whatever you want,” He murmured, biting the inside of his cheek when she sighed as though she didn’t believe him, “Honey, clothes are replaceable. What your body’s trying to do is create a little bubble around you and this little pudding fiend so you can feed them when they’re out here,” 
Bugsy knew he was right. She’d spent well over a hundred hours researching hormone levels and how pregnant bodies are changing all hours of the day to accommodate the foetus, she knew it was normal for things to look different. Had it been on anyone else she wouldn’t have batted an eye. But it didn’t make the sting of seeing her body morph into one she didn’t recognise any less harsh.
“I know,” She hummed somewhat defeated, turning in his arms to press her face in his neck, “I just didn’t expect it to happen so fast is all,”
Spencer smiled warmly, because every day he thought she had gotten impossibly prettier. He hadn’t believed in ‘pregnancy glow’, in fact he’d chalked it down to some sort of innate scientific survival tactic that associated a vulnerable woman with looking angelic, at least not until he’d woken up to see her stomach protruding from her pyjama top in a clear curve shape and he thought her face looked like she should be in some Monet painting, dozing in a field like a wide eyed doe. 
“I know, it’s a lot for anyone to go through. But you know I’m so grateful for you,” Spencer said, and he felt her smile without even seeing it. Her fingers wove into his hair at the nape of his neck, kissing a trail up his chest because he suspected she looked somewhat embarrassed. “Besides, I’m not complaining. It means I get to do this,” 
She felt two large hands grab at the fat of her bum cheeks and she squeaked in surprise, even though she heard him laugh in her ear at her reaction. That had been another thing she’d noticed, and how could she not. Penelope said just the other day that she was ‘baking a bun in the oven and cake in the trunk’ with a little wink, and she’d had to excuse herself quickly for lack of a response. 
And Spencer wasn’t lying. He wasn’t complaining with any of it, not by a long shot. 
MONTH FIVE.  The one with the mood swings.
“So you guys really don’t want to know the sex?” JJ asked, sipping on her tea as she chatted with Bugsy who was balancing biscuits on top of her now protruding stomach. It was as if overnight the baby had stretched out enough to make themselves a damn penthouse suite in Bugsy’s tummy. 
“We want it to be a surprise, either way we’re going to love the little bean, even if they do keep kicking my bladder at four am,” She said, balancing the tenth cookie on the tower she’d made, reaching over carefully for another one, “I swear if the bean kicks my cookie tower I’m giving them a hideous name,”
“It’s good to feel the baby kicking at this stage, it helps develop their joints and bones so they’re stronger when they’re born.” Spencer inputted helpfully as he slid a fresh mug of decaf tea over to her desk.
“Next time the baby kicks your uterus walls, Spence, gimme a shout and we’ll discuss how great it is,” Bugsy said with a small smile and he paused, looking at JJ as if he was caught in a trap, suddenly well aware of his mistake. 
“Point taken,” He conceded quietly, and JJ chuckled because she’d seen Will just as hesitant to piss her off in both of her pregnancies. And she knew Bugsy would never hold it against him, that Spencer’s head just ran away from him sometimes. 
She halted her little game and carefully leaned over to draw the mug to her lips, too impatient to wait for it to cool down fully and she barely spotted Derek swooping around the corner of the desk.
“Good morning, Mommies and Daddy Genius,” He greeted in that chirpy tone, his hand snatching up the top cookie and scarfing it down before she could protest. 
Bugsy shared her snacks all the time, it was a no brainer that they took a bite here and there out of each other's goodies before they could get a smack to the wrist. And Derek had certainly noticed a few of his Rolos missing the last time he bought a pack, and a particularly cheerful Bugsy smirking at him over her desk. 
It wasn’t a huge deal, and yet Bugsy sat up in a gasp, and the entire biscuit tower fell to a crumbling mess on the floor. 
“Well done, princess, Hotch is going to-” Derek stopped mid sentence when he saw her sniffle, and his eyes widened at the sight of her eyes glistening with tears, “Bugsy- are you okay-”
“My cookies! Derek!” She whined pitifully, and she buried her face in her hands, “My cookies, I was so going to eat the shit out of those, they were gonna be so good, Derek,” 
Morgan looked gobsmacked, his head whipping between the woman leaning against the desk with an understanding smile and Spencer who was already rubbing her shoulders with his lips smashed together, trying not to laugh. 
“Honey, it’s okay, he didn’t mean to,” Her partner tried to coo, though he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the way Derek scrambled to draw out his wallet. 
“I’ll get you more, Bug, I swear, they sell them by the deli down the street, right?” He asked, jittering in his bones because he’d never made her cry before. He worried or a moment Hotch might just put him on sabbatical leave for such an offense. Emily would probably fly to Virginia just to cave his skull in, “I’m sorry, I’ll go get more, I’ll even get you strawberry milk-”
“Chocolate milk,” She wailed, and JJ slid a box of tissues over to the pitiful girl with a silent snicker. She remembered all too well the feeling of unexplained emotion crashing over her, and she didn’t doubt that the tough faced Bugsy would be back to normal any moment soon.
“Chocolate milk, got it,” Derek said, with a nod, and he all but darted for the elevators, in a hurry Spencer somewhat suspected was down to the fact he feared for his life if Penelope got a whiff of what happened.
Bugsy sniffled for a moment, drawing a tissue out the box and dabbing her eyes sullenly, her feelings slightly worse for wear even if she had a small inkling of doubt that she was really so torn up about the cookies as her body made it seem. 
But she had been thinking about them all morning; made herself promise she would only eat them once she got the stack fifteen high at least. 
“Are you okay, baby?” Spencer asked, his gaze empathetic as she snuffled her sobs into the palm of her hands. He wasn’t too worried, even if he hated seeing her cry just as much as anyone else did. And it wasn’t that he didn’t take her seriously. But when she’d been crying just that morning because her shower gel spilled on the floor and tipped almost all the way out, or even when she’d stepped on a snail walking into the building and smushed it into the ground, effectively killing it, he seemed to be getting used to her mood swings. 
She sniffed woefully, “I was really looking forward to those, and now I think I was too mean to Derek and…” Her eyes glistened with fresh tears, and the sight of it made Spencer sigh, leaning forward to kiss the side of her head because it must be difficult being so out of your usual self for nine months. 
“And what?” He prompted softly. Only she burst out crying again, reaching forward to drag him into a hug that told him she was feeling extra sorry for herself.
He wouldn’t blame her. Would sit through every weep and sob and tantrum if it meant he got to show her even more times over that he loved her endlessly. 
However he did have to hold in the giggle when she wailed; “I think I really do want strawberry milk,” 
MONTH SIX. The one with the false labour. 
She had been in Hotch’s office when she felt it. 
Embarrassingly so, her first thought was trapped gas. She’d gotten a lot of that considering the baby had decided it craved spice, and had been planning to excuse herself when it felt like her whole abdomen seized as if she’d been hit with a particularly nasty period cramp. 
Her hand flew to her stomach where she sat with Hotch reviewing her latest reports, the same quarterly check the whole team was mandated to have with their boss since Cruz became section chief. Hotch didn’t miss a beat, the folder in his hand hitting the desk in an instant as he tensed, looking at her with caution. 
“Are you alright?” He asked, and she held her breath for a moment. Spencer was out with Rossi giving a lecture in Washington DC, JJ had the day off for her mom’s birthday, Penelope and Morgan were taking Tara to lunch to show her a few more of their regular spots. It was just them and Anderson in the office for the next few hours, possibly the worst time out of any to have an empty floor. 
“Yeah- I just, woah,” Her stomach gave another lurch of a painful twist and her hand slapped on the table to keep herself steady. She breathed through the pain, because she’d had much worse only that wasn’t what was making her heart race. It was fear. Because she wasn’t due for another twelve weeks at least, and while she’d heard of baby’s being born as premature as six months, she knew premy babies suffered major complications later on, let alone the stress their body goes under during the actual birth. 
Bean, as the team had affectionately named the baby since the couple had firmly decided they didn’t want to know the sex, was about the size of red cabbage, tiny in the scheme of things even though it felt like just a few minutes ago they were a grain of rice. 
“Okay, it’s okay, stay calm,” Hotch said in a smooth voice, gentle yet reassuring as he rounded his desk in a flash and put his hand on her shoulder, “Do you feel like you need to use the toilet? Any back ache or irritability?” 
Bugsy breathed out through her nose as her lungs jittered with nerves, “N-no, I don’t need the bathroom, why would that matter?” 
Aaron stroked a large kind hand down her spine, watching her face scrunch in pain for a second time, and he slowly began directing her towards the door, taking small steps so she wasn’t rushing. “Needing to use the bathroom is an early sign of labour, it’s your body's way of helping expand your pelvis to accommodate the head. Any back ache or frustration at all?” 
He didn’t care that he’d had to repeat himself, not even when he was usually so against it, because he could feel the own unease rising in his throat like bile even if he tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. 
He would be damned if he let her see how worried he was, and so he swallowed heavily, holding his other hand out for her to take when they approached the stairs. Anderson was on his feet in seconds when he saw his unit chief leading the woman with a tightly concealed frown, fumbling around for his phone. 
“Agent Prentiss?” He exclaimed, darting around the mess of chairs and paper and desks to approach them, “Would you like me to call Dr Reid? An ambulance, perhaps?” 
“She's alright, I’m driving her to the ER, thank you Anderson,” Aaron responded politely, his hand still resting on her back, and the agent nodded, digging around for his keys. 
“I can drive, if you’d like to ride in the back with her,” Grant offered with worried eyes as Bugsy’s face crumpled in agony again, and Hotch’s head whipped to her, and his composure crumbled for a moment. 
“Bugsy, hey, it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay, honey,” He cooed, and Anderson was quick to open the glass doors, “Did you pack a bag at all-”
“No, Spencer told me I should but I said it was too early, why is that man always right,” She grumbled, her footsteps weary and jittery as the three of them got into the elevator. 
Hotch fought a smile, trying to remember everything he’d memorised before Hailey had Jack. The 5-1-1 rule blared through his head, and he glanced at his watch for a fraction of a second, and he wondered for a moment if he was going to have to write off a company vehicle for the fact his youngest agent gave birth in the back seat. 
“I’m afraid that’s just how Reid operates,” Hotch said, pulling his phone out to dial the man in question and let him know where they were headed, “It’s probably nothing, Hailey was getting cramps all the time once she reached her third trimester, but we’ll get you checked out to be safe,” 
“Really?” She looked at him with pitiful eyes and he nodded with a tight smile, committing to his illusion of calmness even if he swore he hadn’t felt so scared in months. 
Because it wasn’t just Bugsy anymore, it was Bugsy and her baby. Her and Reid’s baby. The two people who deserved their happy ending more so than anyone else he knew. 
And he felt her hand slip into his then as she accepted his answer, in fact she didn’t let go the entire time she waited on Spencer and Aaron was in no rush to leave her side. Even when she lay back on the table and had the midwife checking everything over, he stayed by her head (no doubt to avoid a very awkward conversation), stroked her hair when she fretted through a few more cramps, even when Spencer burst in through the door with Morgan at his heels looking like the two of them had just ran a marathon.
“Is everything okay- what’s wrong- do you need fluids- do you need ice-” Spencer rushed on his odd breath, his chest puffing with inhales, and he pretended he wasn’t seeing stars floating across his vision. 
“I’m assuming by your reaction you’re dad,” The nurse said, pulling off the blue gloves and dropping her mask from her mouth.
“Yes, he is, he’s dad,” Morgan filled in for him as Spencer all but fell back against the wall, because he really should have drank something other than soda and coffee this morning. He was close to swaying on his feet when he stepped over to his girlfriend, and she took his hand in the her own, or atleast the one that wasn’t occupied by Hotch’s tight hold. 
“Don’t worry, everything is alright with mom and baby,” She said, noting down a few things on her chart and the four of them took an audible sigh of relief, “Braxton Hicks contractions are very common in your final trimester, it probably felt like a lot because your baby is moving to into the anterior position ready for birth,” 
Bugsy’s head flopped back against the pillow in comfort and she forced herself to take a few deep breaths, willing her heart rate to go back to normal. Braxton Hicks, she should have known. Her head had been fuzzy the past few weeks as it was, but she supposed the moment she’d thought there might be something wrong with the Bean, all of her logic had flown out the window. 
But at least she’d had Hotch to keep her level headed, and-
“Oh my god, Anderson,” She jolted up, her legs stuck in the stirrups the midwife had place her into while she examined everything, “We need to tell Anderson, the poor guy was so worried,”
Hotch chose not to tell her he’d seen Anderson go as white as a ghost the second she’d turned her back, and instead patted her leg as Spencer went to speak to the midwife a little more, no doubt picking apart every single symptom she’d presented in that huge, worried head of his. 
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Anderson is fine, honey,” He said earnestly, and she looked at him like a kicked puppy, entirely sorry for the panic she’d caused, “Let’s just get you your underwear back, huh?”
MONTH SEVEN. The one where they decorate the nursery.
“What about Elias,” 
“Veto,”
Bugsy pulled a shunned expression as she carefully rolled the wallpaper up the wall. 
“Mason? Niko, stop,” She proposed, one hand on the wall while using the other to push the nosey feline away from the wet paste she’d been brushing on the wall. 
He sat politely at her chide, blinking at her with those big eyes as he watched her work with a twitching tail, almost entertained at the woman who had ballooned up in just a few weeks struggling to do a relatively easy task. 
“Hmm, Mason can go on the bench,” Spencer responded where he was sitting at the other end of the wall doing the same thing only much faster, though she’d argue it was a little easier since he wasn't carrying a large coconut strapped to his stomach.
They’d left the apartment just two weeks ago. Derek had been the one to help them cart their small amount of furniture into the modest house on the outskirts of West Springfield. It was large by Spencer’s standards, even if Bugsy had seen what grandeur looked like in her own childhood homes, but it didn’t matter. Because walls and floors and fancy grand pianos had never bought her love. Yet the first evening they’d spent in their new home they had slept on a mattress on the floor, the list of things to do the following day rattling around their heads. But they had a home. They had the picket fence with the nice school down the road and the bus stop within eyesight of the kitchen where their kid would one day walk to their door with a book bag and glasses like Spencer’s. 
She had never felt like she belonged somewhere until she had a home with him. 
“What about Ada for a girl?” Spencer called over his shoulder, where he had almost caught up to where she was still working on the small patch of wall. The paper was proving frustrating for her swollen fingers, considering the entire thing, when put together, made up a mural of little woodland creatures amidst a forest and left zero room for error, “Named after Ada Lovelace, the woman who pioneered computers,”
Considering it for a moment, she nodded, “That’s pretty. Ada makes top ten,” 
Flipping the last part up to stick against the thick glue, she ran her hands over the seams to be sure it aligned perfectly with the rest of the picture. Satisfied when it matched and a little fox stared down at her, she smiled, tilting her head up where Spencer was standing over her, watching her concentrate. 
“All done!” She chirped, and he bent down to give her a kiss to her puckered lips, sliding a hand beneath her arm to help her up. 
“Looks perfect, you’re really carrying the team honey,” He mused as she got to her feet with a little whine, wrapping her arms around his middle in a proud hug. 
“I know, what would you ever do without me?” 
He laughed, looking at her with an adoring gaze.
The light cracked through the open window, laying over her face delicately. The house was still bare, still in need of carpets and a good dusting, still had leaky pipes and ants in the pantry. Yes, they had a pantry now. But it was a start. It was a home. 
“I say we leave the cradle for another day, baby is calling for frozen grapes again,” She said, rubbing a hand over her protruding belly button and he smiled. Spencer could have sworn he was the luckiest guy in the world when he called her his friend. He thought maybe he should have bought a lottery ticket the same day she told him she loved him. The day she became his girlfriend he thinks he may have died and the past three years have been purely a dream. 
But watching the breeze kiss her cheeks and stroke her hair, watching her eyes rove over the room that would keep their baby safe and warm in just a few weeks, even seeing her smile at him like he had handed her the whole universe in a box when she was the one growing a whole human inside her; Spencer felt like his life was so much better than he ever hoped it would be. 
“Frozen grapes, coming right up,” He said, slipping his fingers in between his to help her down the winding staircase which had been a winner for her immediately. It’s like we have a castle, Spence. “You or the baby could ask for a whole damn ox and I’d give it to you.”
She laughed, holding onto the bannister as they headed downstairs to the kitchen that was in dire need of fresh paint. 
“What if I said baby wants a holiday to Cancun and another cat,” 
“I’d say baby is onto something there,” Spencer said, sweeping her from the final step and giving her a wet kiss to her head, “But first, grapes.”
MONTH EIGHT. The one where she gets cranky.
“Oh my god,” She groaned as she threw herself into her wheely chair, her button up shirt barely accommodating her stomach that was well and truly ready to pop.  
Derek Morgan loved her, he truly loved her like she was one of his sisters, dare say he had loved her since that day he’d carried her out of the church she was held hostage in by Cyrus. He had seen her at her rock bottom, had seen her graduate with flying colours, had even put his job on the line for her; covered her back from a stupid mistake at a bar when she popped a little molly on government pay. 
Derek loved her. He did. But the moment he saw her slump into her chair, her face scrunched up in frustration, he was collecting his mug of coffee and all but bolting for the door and heading straight for Penelope’s lair. 
“Back pain again?” JJ asked, flitting past a very frantic Morgan and heading towards Rossi’s office with a stack of papers in her arms. Bugsy let out something close to a growl in return, and JJ took it as a yes.
“I swear I have been pregnant for years,” She huffed, barely reaching over to where her keyboard sat at her desk. Tara nudged it forward for her to grab, because it seemed like she was on her breaking point enough as it was, and received a brief nod of thanks “I can’t remember a time when my back didn’t hurt, or my boobs were aching or my head wasn’t all fuzzy and weird and- OH for the love of god SWITCH ON YOU PIECE OF SHIT,” 
JJ’s brows raised as the keyboard mouse went flying off the side of her desk in protest, rolling straight past where Hotch and Spencer were strolling through the office, her boyfriend carrying the biggest Strawberry Milkshake he could find on this side of town. 
If Hotch wanted to say anything about her damaging property, he thought it smarter to keep his mouth shut as she swivelled to face the two of them, her expression already irritated by the worried stare they shot her way. 
“What?” She said with a bite, and Spencer raised his hands in surrender, which left her gaze to slide to Hotch. 
And Hotch loved her too, loved her more than he would ever admit. But he swore he the second her eyes clamped on his, Aaron Hotchner considered an exorcism might be necessary. 
“What, what are you staring at me for?” She snapped, throwing her hands out like a bratty teenager, and Hotch cleared his throat before he spoke, something embarrassingly close to fear shaking his vocal chords.
“Have you given any more thought to maternity leave, yet?” He asked and her eye twitched, and it was as if he saw the stapler was next on her list of things to send flying off the table, preferably straight at his head. “I would be more than happy to pull some strings so you take longer off after the baby is born, maybe even Spencer could start his paternity early-”
“What?” She said for a third time, like she was a broken record. And she knew she was being unfair, perhaps even cruelly so. But she would make it up to them later, when she was in a better frame of mind. Her underwear rode up and pinched where her uterus had begun to drop, her trousers itched for whatever reason, her face was hot from just walking from the elevator to her chair and that was just since she’d entered the office. She hadn’t got much energy for showers anymore and so washing her hair became some ugly affair where Spencer got in with her and did it for her, only last time he put a little too much product on and got the suds in her eyes and they had spent twenty minutes rinsing her face, naked and dripping wet, over the sink. She felt awful, awful for how she was being so irrationally rude, but it was like every inch of her being was uncomfortable. And there was still another month to go.
“Good god, man, don’t poke the bear,” Tara hummed as she passed, taking her own half full mug to the kitchen to escape whatever was rumbling in that hot head of hers. 
Hotch swallowed heavily, noticing how Spencer stayed deadly quiet no doubt because he’d learned his lesson in trying to force Bugsy into doing something when she was like this, “I’m saying I think it would be good for you to take some time off, you’ve both worked hard enough as it is and with the baby being so close, it would be good to take it easy for a few weeks-” 
She pressed her lips together, because she knew he was probably trying to help, probably trying to be considerate, and yet the heat of annoyance bubbled up inside her all the same like a kettle on the precipice of boiling.
“If you want the big scary pregnant lady out of your way just spit it out, Hotch,” She snapped, scowling at him in a way he remembered Hailey doing when he so much as sneezed too loud.
And he couldn’t find it in him to be mad at her. Because anyone with eyes saw she was uncomfortable, he knew if she was anything like his own ex-wife then she wouldn’t be sleeping nearly as much as she should, that more than likely their kid would be already kicking with long, scrawny legs to get out and show the world what they were made of. 
Hotch was saved from the firing line when his guess was proved almost immediately, and she groaned with a hand to her abdomen. 
“Spencer, would you tell your kid they’re not a linebacker and that my kidneys aren’t the damn ball,” She complained, and her partner flashed her a brave smile, leaning over her to rub where she was caressing her battered organs. 
“Actually, right about here will be your spleen since the baby has pushed everything around at this stage-” And with that Hotch darted towards his office because Bugsy looked ready to clip someone around the ear, and he didn’t have the heart to write her up for it.
Although for the sanctity of his team, he rushed her documents through the same afternoon and gave her an extra four weeks pay in lieu of a truce. 
MONTH NINE. The one with the birth.
It had been fourteen hours already when the doctor mentioned the word caesarean. 
“Caesarean? We never planned for a C-section,” Bugsy’s eyes widened where she was intermittently sucking down gas and air, Spencer patting her forehead down with an ice wet cloth. 
But then again she supposed she had never planned to go into labour when getting the laundry off the washing line while Spence painted the porch. 
He looked at her with nervous hazel hues where her face sparkled with sweat and water, her hand squeezing him tightly as another contraction hit. 
“I’m afraid we have few options left, Miss Prentiss,” The midwife said, a woman around her age that was already masked up after prodding around her cervix for a few hours, “Fourteen hours is rough on anyone and we’re not seeing any movement past your pelvis. Any longer and you or your baby might be at risk,”
And it was the truth, but it was a harsh one, and tears sprung to her eyes hearing those last few words. She had never had any delusions it would be easy giving birth, it was revered as the most painful thing anyone could go through, but she had assumed on a hope and a prayer that things would go smoothly. 
“I know it’s scary,” Spencer found his voice after a second, their hands clasped tightly together because there was more chance of snow in hell than there was he was letting her do this alone, “But, baby, you’re doing so well, and you’re almost there,” He said in a watery sweet tone, dabbing at her brow once more and the two of them exchanged a teary look, “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay, they’re going to numb you for the whole thing and when it’s over we’re going to have our baby, huh?” 
She smiled ruefully because he was trying desperately to cheer her up, even though it sounded like he was reassuring himself just as much as he was her.
And she nodded, because she knew he was right, and more than anything she wanted their baby to be safe, even if it meant having her insides scooped out like she was some russian nesting doll. 
“O-okay, yeah, c-can Spencer stay with me?” She asked nervously, and the midwife smiled, pressing a button to call for the anesthesiologist.
“Ofcourse, honey. Just try to relax, we’re going to arrange an epidural for you,” She said in a voice that told Bugsy she’d practised staying calm in an emergency a thousand times. 
Bugsy breathed through her nose, feeling Spencer swoop in to wipe the lone few tears dribbling down her cheeks. 
“It’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna be okay,” He said, his voice bustling with nerves and she wanted to tell him the same, wanted to tell him she loved him more than ever for trying to put a brave face on for her sake. But she couldn’t, so she nodded frantically, leaning her forehead against his cheek and taking a few more deep breaths. 
“You’re doing great, honey, you’re being so brave,” Spencer reassured in his biggest voice, his hand carding over the side of her hot face gently. There was blood, there was so much blood, and the sound of her monitor was the only sound that was constant and not at all worrying with its steady heart beat. 
The midwives were flitting around the room, the lead obstetrician making careful incisions and handing various things Spencer didn’t want to see over to his co-workers. Because he loved their baby already, couldn’t wait to meet the mini him he’d been dreaming about since he was a boy himself, but Bugsy needed him first. She was his everything, his whole life, his whole universe fading between clear consciousness and a slightly loopy gaze as she relaxed on the table. 
“Is it over? Are they here, are they okay?” She slurred, looking over at him where his hair was covered in a blue scrub cap, his entire body wrapped in protective uniform to minimise the risk of infection on her body. 
He cradled her face again, shaking his head, “Not yet honey, you’re doing so good, it’s nearly over,” Spencer said, pressing his brow against hers because he had a mask over his mouth and couldn’t kiss her properly, “I love you so much, I swear I’ll try every day of my life to repay you,” 
“You’re being mushy, you’re freaking me out,” She joked as if she was her regular self, because the midwives had all warned him that the sedatives would take the edge off her nerves. And he chuckled, even if he was worrying enough for the two of them, sniffling behind the stuffy mask he had to keep on until she was in recovery. 
“I’m sorry, baby, I just want you to be okay,” Spencer said earnestly, and he pressed a kiss to her head anyway even if she wouldn’t feel it with his mask, “I’m gonna get you so many milkshakes when this is-”
There was a wail behind the curtain they had draped over her stomach, and both their breaths stopped in their chests. 
“Is that…” Bugsy started, her eyes wide and alert even if seconds ago she had been almost drunk, “Is that it- is that them?”
And another scream resounded around the room as if to answer her. 
Spencer swore he had never felt tears well in his eyes so fast until one of the midwives brought a wriggling, wrinkly bundle around the curtain, and within seconds he felt his cheeks sodden with tears. 
“Oh my god,” He said his smile reaching his eyes as the little creature was put on Bugsy’s chest, and it was only then he realised she was weeping too and he resumed his position stroking her head, “It’s a-”
“It’s a girl! Spencer, we have a girl!” Bugsy’s grin went from ear to ear, her eyes round and adoring at the ugly, scrunched face still screaming at them, her eyes closed and her skin covered in a white goop, “Oh my god, she’s so beautiful,” 
“I told you she’d take after you,” Spencer said, not minding the nurses sewing Bugsy up as they stared at their little girl, Bugsy’s arms holding her body weight delicately though she didn’t quite know what she was doing. 
Spencer was quick to remove the mask once they cleared him to, and the second he was freed he pushed his lips to his girlfriend’s, their mouths equally as salty and sodden as one another with the way their cheeks washed with tears. Pulling away, he looked at her in the eyes, the same eyes he’d always loved, the same eyes he’d know in any life, in any world, in any fog, and their smiles were damn near blinding. 
“I love you so much, I swear I’m going to make it up to you, anything you want,” Spencer said, kissing her again, his hand resting over hers where she held their baby girl on her bare chest. 
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she already had everything she’d ever wanted right there with her. 
“I love you so much more, Spencer,” She said quietly, the two of them pulling away when the little girl squealed again and they chuckled, quickly rushing to calm her cries as they looked at her as if they had yet to realise she was real and she was theirs, “Oh my god Spencer, you’re a daddy,”
“Bugsy, you’re a mommy,” He said with raised brows and she gasped, giggling with glee as her free hand flew to grab his face and pull him in to kiss her again, “We’re a mommy and daddy,” 
The two of them burst out laughing even though overjoyed tears lined their eyes again, and Spencer trailed a large finger down her chubby cheek softly, her skin shrivelled and pruney like she’d been submerged in a bath for too long. 
“Spencer, she’s perfect,” She said after a moment, her breath completely stolen when she took her in, the small head completely covered in dark hair, which she had already suspected would be there from the amount of times she found herself itching at her stomach. Her tiny fists waved in the air as her sobs subsided, beginning to warm up to the skin on Bugsy’s chest, and Spencer audibly choked in a cry of his own when her eyelids slowly blinked open and revealed forest hues damn near identical to his own. He pushed his temple to Bugsy’s again as she carefully swayed her from side to side.
“I’m never going to let anything hurt you,” He murmured, his breath warm on her collarbone and his baby girl stared back at him like she understood, even though he knew that was pretty much  impossible, “Either of you,” 
Bugsy sniffled with a wobbly smile, her hands shaking as she held her daughter up, “Do you want to hold her?” 
Spencer looked ready to wail all over again, not that she would ever hold it against him. The two of them had been weeping all day, and their kid was a real tear jerker to look at with her thick lashes and wide eyes. 
He was quick to pop open his shirt, holding his hands out nervously as she placed the baby in his arms, his fingers supporting under her head the whole time he brought her to his chest. 
Bugsy smiled, the midwife checking in with her for a moment before they were ready to wheel her into the other room to rest up, while Spencer looked entirely enamoured with the little bundle in his arms. 
He was a dad. He had made this beautiful, perfect little girl with the woman he loved more than anything in the world, and somehow she had given him even more reasons to feel so lucky. 
“Hello, you,” He said through bleary eyes, smiling through a chuckle when he saw just how tiny she looked in his arms, and he had never seen anything look so fragile, “I’m going to try be the best dad you could ever have, okay? I’m gonna be there for all the lame parties, and the sleepovers and the big games and every single time you need help on your homework, I’m gonna be right there with you.” 
“What name are we putting on the chart?” The midwife asked as Bugsy watched Spencer murmur to the sweet face that looked up at him in wonder, “Or is it just Baby Girl Prentiss for the moment?” 
“It’s Reid,” Bugsy said with a smile, as Spencer poured even more of his gentle heart out in promises she knew he would keep until the day he died. And she knew without checking with him the name they chose weeks ago was perfect; the one they’d decided on just a few days after the nursery was finished and she had yet another bowl of frozen grapes to chow down on while they admired their work. 
One for his mother, one for Emily. 
“Ana Emilia Reid,”
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smileysuh · 8 months ago
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comfort cuisine
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🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k
🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)
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Prologue
“I’m so sorry about this,” Johnny’s voice distracts you from the breakfast you’re making, and you turn around from the bacon to look at your friend. “I really wish I didn’t have to keep calling you and asking for favours like this-”
“Johnny,” you shut his rambling up with a pointed expression, “stop, it’s okay.”
“It’s not-”
“John,” you repeat, “seriously, we’re good. Given… the circumstances, I honestly don’t mind.”
The circumstances… neither of you can bring yourselves to say it. You know that if you say it… if you say ‘I don’t mind helping out since the death of your wife’ Johnny will just about break down, and he doesn’t have time to do that, not when he’s got to be at work for seven am, prepping the kitchen and getting ready for the day.
Even by calling this situation a ‘circumstance,’ you can see a half glazed expression overtake Johnny’s face. He’s frozen for a moment, and you take the time to study him.
You think it’s safe to say neither of you expected any of this to happen. 
You’d met him in culinary school- he’d been a young guy, a new dad who’d had a daughter at nineteen, with dreams of opening his own sandwich food truck, ‘like Subway, but gourmet,’ he’d always explained. 
Now, he’s a twenty four year old wreck, doing his best to climb the ladder in the food service industry, mourning the loss of his late wife, struggling to take care of his daughter, his dreams of a food truck long since forgotten in favour of chasing a head chef status to earn him enough of a salary to pay for everything in a one income household-
“Seriously,” your words snap the single dad back from his zone out, “we’re good. I’m making breakfast for Soonbok, I’ve got her lunch packed, I’ll take her to kindergarten, pick her up after- you just have to remember I have a night shift, gotta be at my own restaurant by five at the latest.”
“Five, yeah,” Johnny nods, swallowing thickly and toying with his daughters small pink backpack. “One day, I’ll be higher up on the food chain, and I’ll have better hours- I promise this isn’t a forever thing.”
“It’s an ‘as long as it needs to happen’ thing, okay? Don’t sweat it,” you assure him. “Here,” you take some of the crispy bacon out of the pan, putting it onto a scrambled egg bagel you’d prepared, “you need breakfast too.”
Johnny just about melts looking at the food. “You’re so good to me.”
You offer him a smile. “That’s what friends are for.”
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One
Johnny swears his age is catching up to him. It’s not even four oclock and he’s feeling tired, letting out a groan as he says goodbye to the nightshift guys and heads to change out of his head chef attire in the staff bathroom. He’d turned thirty this year, and as he looks at his face in the mirror, he thinks he’s starting to see it.
On his way out of the back door, Johnny bumps into one of his line cooks. Mark Lee is pressed to the wall where people usually lean to smoke, his girlfriend closing him in with her hands on either side of his head. Back when she was expo, everyone used to call her Sunshine, but in her dealings with Mark Lee, Johnny’s come to realize that he’s the angel, not her. 
“Aren’t you two on the clock?” Johnny jokes as he walks past.
Sunshine pulls away from Mark, offering the head chef a grin. “We’re on a vape break.”
“Sure you are,” Johnny laughs, shaking his head.  “See you two back in there, better only be five more minutes.”
“Aren’t you done for the day?” Mark asks, confusion written on his face, along with lipstick marks that he’s hurrying to wipe off.
“Grabbing happy hour with a friend, but be careful Mark Lee, I’m always watching. Just because I’m sitting at the bar doesn’t mean I’m not judging you.”
Johnny can hear Mark mutter something under his breath, and Sunshine is quick to try to calm him down, but as Johnny turns the corner to head to the front entrance of the restaurant, he hears the back door open and close, signaling the end of the little ‘vape break.’
When Johnny joins you at the bar, you’re chatting with Jeno, and the sight makes an unexplainable emotion tingle up his spine. Out of all the front of house staff here, Jeno might just be the biggest manwhore, and he’s had a thing for cougars for a while, although there’s only a handful of years difference between the two of you-
“What are you guys talking about?” John asks, taking a seat on the dark green leather hightop stools surrounding the bar.
“Which virgin drinks are the best,” you respond casually. “I was going to get an iced tea, but Jeno convinced me to try one of your new virgin lemon ginger fizzes.”
“That’s called upselling, honey, you should know that, seeing as you’re in the industry,” Johnny grins.
“Yeah, well, you’re the one who invited me here, so I figured you’d be paying.” You take a sip of your straw, looking at Johnny with a smirk, a playful glint in your eyes. 
“Are we getting food?” Johnny asks. “I might as well take care of that for you too.”
“I’ve got time,” you respond casually. “Don’t work for an hour, lets get our ‘nosh’ on.”
Johnny can only laugh at your antics, turning to Jeno, who’s watching with an amused grin. Everyone here knows you and Johnny are close, you come here often enough to see him, the two of you catching each other for a half an hour here or there between his day shifts and your night commitments. 
Johnny orders three appetizers off the happy hour menu, two things he knows you like, and one that’s more up his alley. “Make sure Yuta isn’t back there slacking off,” Johnny warns Jeno, knowing that two of the items will be coming from the ‘bottom end’ of the expo line, which is where Yuta runs the show after Johnny’s off.
“I’m sure he’ll pull out all the stops for our MVP,” Jeno grins, typing the order into an ipad. “Do you want a beer? We’ve got new rotators.”
“Don’t bother trying to upsell me,” Johnny scoffs. “House Lager, and don’t fuck around with the foam.”
“You run a tight ship here, captain,” you tease, bumping Johnny’s elbow.
“Speaking of-”
“Don’t try to recruit me to work here again,” you’re quick to warn.
“Damn it,” Johnny shakes his head, pretending to be quite upset about your rejection. He does feel it- he does think you’d be a great member of the team, and he’d love to offer you a dual head chef position, but it’s not in his power to do so, and that fact haunts him every day. Working for a company limits what he’s able to do, and sometimes, even at age thirty, Johnny still thinks about his dream to open a food truck, with you by his side. “No, in all seriousness, I wanted to talk to you about Soonie’s birthday.”
“Right, she’s turning eleven soon, that’s quite the milestone,” you grin, playing with your straw.
“I asked Doyoung if I could open early for her birthday, it’s a Sunday, I was thinking some of her friends and their parents could come in for a brunch an hour before we’re open for the public.”
“That’s a great idea!”
“Here’s the catch, Soonie was raised on your breakfast food. As much as I try to make things for her, and I hate to admit this, by the way, she always says your cooking is better. So I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come in that day and help me out with all of this. With your skills, I wouldn’t need Hyuck and Mark, it could be just us, and I’m sure we could make a birthday breakfast Soonbok would never forget. It would be like old times, like back when we were in culinary school.”
He loves the way you’re smiling at him, giving him space to rant. 
When he’s done, you cock your head to the side, only wasting one beat before you say, “I’ll do it.”
“Really? I don’t have to bribe you with money or anything?”
“Jeeze, have I ever asked you for money, John?” You smack at his arm, clearly slightly offended. “I’m doing this for Soonie… and maybe a little for you too.”
“Don’t go soft on me, killer,” Johnny teases. “Everyone around here’s too soft these days.”
“Says the softest dad I know,” you roll your eyes. 
“Shh,” he warns, “don’t say that loud enough for Jeno to hear.”
“As if everyone doesn’t already know.”
The two of you continue to chat and joke, a short while later, the head manager, Doyoung, shows up carrying food. It’s funny for Johnny to see Doyoung balancing two items on one arm, the third in the palm of his hand, but he supposes Doyoung started somewhere too, the same way John had. 
“VIP happy hour appetizers,” Doyoung sighs, setting the food down. 
“As opposed to regular happy hour appetizers?” you grin, immediately reaching for a fry.
“These are special,” Doyoung insists, “pretty sure Yuta spit in them.”
Doyoung is a pretty regal man, he’s not one to joke around- but for some reason, when Doyoung is in your vicinity, he loosens up a little. Everyone loosens up around you, you radiate a safe space kind of energy, the kind of energy that makes Johnny’s tense shoulders relax, his smile softening.
“Then I’ll be sure to eat all of this,” you respond. “Tell Yuta more spit.”
Doyoung shakes his head at you. “I’m sure Johnny’s tried to poach you already, but if you ever want a job, you can have his.”
“Hey!” Johnny laughs.
“I’ll consider it,” you grin.
“And I expect a plate of food for this brunch thing,” Doyoung continues. “I’ve heard nothing beats your breakfasts, even though you work nights.”
“Someone has been talking about me again,” you muse, eyes shifting to John.
“What can I say?” He holds his hands up in defense. “I speak only the truth.”
“Your reputation precedes you,” Doyoung insists. “Anyways, have fun you two, I’ve got food to run, our new expo girl isn’t filling Sunshine’s shoes too well.”
There’s a glint in Doyoung’s eye before he scurries away, and Johnny turns to watch the new expo girl practically short circuiting with take out orders on the line. 
“Poor girl,” you sigh. “It takes a certain kind of person to work in a restaurant.”
And an even more specific type to do what the two of you do as chefs.
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Two
You’ve been on a few first dates this year, and this one is definitely a bottom three. You’ve had one drink, and you already feel like finding a way to slip out early. 
Initially, you’d been intrigued by dating a man in finance, but it’s clear now that you’re in two completely different worlds- and to make matters worse, he mostly talks about himself. He’s oozing this obnoxious confidence that makes you grimace every time you sip your drink, and not from the alcohol.
Your date is in the bathroom when Johnny calls.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you!” His voice warms your heart. “So Soonie is at a sleep over tonight, and I was thinking about making a Soonbok style menu for her birthday, all Soonie style names for food and such, planning a menu just for her- are you up to anything? Can I go through it with you?”
“Actually…” your gaze shifts to the bathrooms, “I’m on a date.”
“Oh.”
“It’s going so bad, and planning Soonie’s birthday would be such a better use of my evening. Listen, can you come pick me up? I’ll text you the address, you can come and call me when you’re outside, pretend it’s a family emergency or something-”
“You got it, I’ll be there right away.”
Fifteen minutes later, you’re hopping into Johnny’s car, letting out a deep sigh of relief.
“That bad, huh?” he asks.
“I don’t even want to talk about it right now,” you groan. 
“Here, distract yourself,” Johnny hands you a piece of paper, and you realize it’s a mock up menu for Soonbok’s birthday. “This is just a prototype, I was messing around with styles on some fucking site called Canva-”
“I didn’t know you were good at this sort of thing,” you gasp, taking in the intricate fonts and colouring.
“The site did all the work, trust me,” Johnny scoffs, pulling out into traffic. “Read it over and let me know what you think.”
You begin to scan the menu. There’s Soonie Side Up Eggs, and Boken Avocado Bennies, Soonbok Style Slapjacks and Suh Family Breakfast Sammies. 
“I’m shocked you came up with this many names related to Soonie and Suh,” you say.
“I spent my entire shift thinking about them in the back of my mind while I worked,” Johnny admits. “They’re not cheesy or anything, right?”
“They’re definitely cheesy,” you confirm, “but Soonie is going to love them. You’ve always been cheesy, John, and she adores you for it.”
You notice Johnny’s skin turning a little red, and it’s not just from the reflection of the traffic light illuminating the inside of his car while you wait for it to go green. 
You continue to study the menu, thinking hard the entire way back to Johnny’s house.
He’s got a modest three bedroom townhouse, with his and Soonbok’s rooms on the top floor, and the guest bedroom on the main floor with the kitchen and living room. The kitchen is, without a doubt, the heart of the home, and the two of you make your way there as soon as you’re past the threshold.
“I have some thoughts,” you admit, setting the menu down and pointing at one of the items. “Soonbok toast,” you announce, a twist on french toast, “it says here that it comes with a berry compote. I can tell that this is one of the dishes more geared toward others, because if this was really for Soonie, you’d know that your daughter doesn't even touch berry or apple crisps. She picks at the oat brown sugar on top, but doesn’t like cooked berries or fruits.”
“Yeah…” Johnny leans next to you, scratching the back of his neck. “That was the only one I wasn’t sure on, but for brunch, you have to have a french toast option, right?”
“We can still do french toast, but I think every menu item should be something she’d actually love, don’t you agree?”
“A hundred percent.” 
“What if, instead of berry compote, we do an brown sugar glaze type sauce?”
“That could be doable,” Johnny admits. “Should we try to make one now?”
“Can we do it in the morning?” you ask. “Honestly, I had one drink at the bar, I’m tired after a long shift, and I’m ready to have a few more drinks then pass out.”
“Drinks are a good idea,” Johnny grins, already heading to the fridge. “It will give me more time to think about how to make the brown sugar glaze, and I’ll get on top of that in the morning.”
“Exactly. Chef hours are over, we can just relax,” you insist, heading to collapse on his couch.
“Chef hours are never over,” Johnny reminds you, cracking open a beer and approaching so he can hand it to you.
“It’s one of the reasons dating is so hard in our profession,” you sigh, taking a swig of your drink.
“The hours make it tough,” Johnny nods. 
“So does the mentality,” you remind him. “We just… we think a little differently than others. We’re all a little too committed to our work.”
“That’s not always a bad thing, you’ve just gotta find someone you’re compatible with, someone who will appreciate that about you.” 
“Says one single chef to the other,” you laugh.
Johnny clinks his bottle against your own before taking a large gulp. “Touche.”
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Three
Johnny is doing his best to work quietly, aware that the guest bedroom is just a short distance from the kitchen as he whips up eggs for the french toast batter. 
He manages to get all the way through to the cooking before you sleepily putter into the kitchen, adorned in one of his spare shirts for when you sleep over unexpectedly. You look adorable, but Johnny can’t bring himself to focus on you as he perfects the brown sugar glaze, careful not to burn it.
“Almost done,” he calls over his shoulder, “take a seat then try this with me?”
“It smells good,” you tell him, pulling out a chair at the island kitchen counter. 
“Thanks, honey, I was up last night thinking about it- had to wake up early to try it out.” He lifts the french toast onto a plate, dipping a spoon into the glaze to coat the breakfast. “I hope I didn’t wake you up?”
“The smell did,” you muse, grinning as he brings the french toast toward you, setting it down and opening a drawer to retrieve two sets of utensils.
The two of you cut into the toast, and you lift your fork. “Cheers,” you grin, and Johnny touches his food to your own before you both go in for a bite. 
The french toast is cooked to perfection, and although the brown sugar glaze is a little sweet for his liking, Johnny knows Soonie’s sweettooth will appreciate this adjustment to the recipe.
But when Johnny lifts his gaze to you, he sees apprehension in your eyes. “Did you like it?” he enquires.
“It’s really good, don’t get me wrong,” you assure him quickly, “I just think… maybe it’s missing one or two things.”
“Like what?”
“Mmm…” you cock your head to the side, “we both know Soonbok is a fan of nuts, peanut butter is her usual go to but she likes others too- what if we finely chop some pecan or walnut and add that in somehow?”
“That could work,” Johnny nods. 
“Do you mind if I take a crack at it?” you ask. 
Johnny laughs. There are very few people he’ll allow to use his kitchen, and luckily you’re the one at the top. You’ve been cooking here for so many years that he doesn’t have to guide you to anything, you stand up and immediately go in search of details to make your french toast masterpiece come to life, and Johnny happily takes a back seat while he finishes his own creation.
You go for a bag of pecans, dumping a small amount onto a cutting board before you begin to finally chop, leaving an array of different sizes of chunks. Soonie has always been a texture specific child, and Johnny loves how you incorporate all the little quirks of his daughter into your cooking like this.
In a pan with some butter, you begin to toast the nuts, getting prepped on your bread by using the already made batter he’d created earlier. As you put the toast into the pan and check the nuts, you cock your head to the side again, an endearing trait you do when you’re thinking.
“What about oats?” you suggest. 
“Do whatever you think is best,” Johnny encourages you, heading to the fridge to grab some orange juice and a nearly empty bottle of prosecco he’d opened for a recipe two nights ago.
Johnny watches you add oats to the browning pecans while he makes mimosas, and in no time at all, you’re plating the french toast, with a spoonful of the newly toasted additions, and a few spoonfuls of brown sugar glaze.
“There,” you announce, bringing the food to the table. “I added a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar to the buttered nuts and oats while you were making drinks.”
“Cheers,” Johnny grins, lifting a forkful of your creation to gently touch it to your own.
As soon as he bites into it, Johnny knows that this is a winner. The crunch of the nuts, and the oats- the added fats of the butter- the slight taste of cinnamon on the toppings- 
“Wow,” he breathes, leaning back in his chair. “Soonie really wasn’t joking when she said you’re the best breakfast chef in town.”
“Stop it,” you laugh. “You made the glaze! We did this together!”
Johnny goes for a second bite. “This is the stuff that will stick to your ribs,” he muses, not caring that the calorie content was just inflated by the addition of butter and nuts, “Good ol’ comfort food.”
“No, John, you’re a head chef now, this is comfort cuisine,” you correct him with a grin. 
Johnny swears your eyes are sparkling as you smile at him, and it makes his heart skip a beat in his chest. It’s times like these that he realizes just how smitten he is with you. You’ve been there for him, through thick and thin. There’s no way he’d be where he is now without you, and he’s not even sure if you know the full extent of it.
But at the same time, because you’re his rock, Johnny doesn’t want to overstep. He can’t lose you, not now, not ever. Soonie lost her mom to a car crash when she was three, and there’s no way in hell Johnny’s going to do something that could potentially make her lose you too.
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Four
“Hey, you,” you grin, finishing pouring your glass of wine while you put your favourite chef on speaker.
“Hey, yourself,” Johnny responds, and you can practically hear the smile in his own voice. “Listen, uh, I need to ask you for a favour.”
“Shoot.”
“Two of my line chefs called in today before dinner- pretty sure they’re both hungover or something. Anyways, I’m staying, and it’s a busier night than projected- Soonie is done Girl Guides at seven, and I know it’s your night off, so if you’re busy I can find someone else, but-”
“I’ve got you,” you interrupt him. “Girls night with my favourite girl is a better plan than I had.”
“Really? You sure?”
“A hundred percent.”
“I’d say I owe you one, but at this point, I probably owe you more like a thousand.”
“And don’t you forget it,” you laugh, pouring your wine back into the bottle. “Take care of work, and I’ll take care of our girl.”
A couple hours later, you’re in Johnny’s familiar kitchen, making spiced popcorn and virgin cocktails. Soonie wants to be a chef, just like her dad, and she’s getting better every day. You love giving her soft instructions and lending a helping hand on bigger jugs of juice that her tiny fingers can’t quite hold.
Soonbok has a love for all things disney and music, and although this is probably the third time you’re watching it with her, the two of you settle in for the live action Ariel.
While Johnny is primarily a chef, back when you were in culinary school, he used to sing to himself when he was working. He was always quiet, but loud enough for you to listen to his beautiful voice. Like her father, Soonbok has a way with music, and you adore watching the eleven year old belt out Ariel songs.
She’s tuckered out from Girl Guides however, and about halfway into the movie she cuddles up next to you, her eyelids beginning to droop.
When Johnny comes home as the film is ending, Soonie is fast asleep, and you quickly motion at him to be quiet as he steps through the door.
Johnny is careful as he sets his keys and bag down, kicking off his shoes and putting away his jacket. He tiptoes toward the two of you. “How long has she been out?” he whispers.
“Half an hour or so,” you respond in a hushed tone. “How was work?”
He lets out a sigh. “Could have been better, but I’m home now. Should I get this little one to bed?”
You nod, watching the way Johnny bends down to gently lift his daughter off the couch. She stirs in his arms. “Daddy?”
“Hi, Soonie,” he beams down at her. “Did you have a good girls night?”
“Can y/n stay longer?”
Johnny’s eyes shift to you, and a smile forms on your lips. “I guess I can’t say no to Soonie, can I?”
“Here’s the deal, Soonie, y/n can stay longer, but I’ve gotta put you to bed. You had a long day, didn’t you, sweet girl?”
“Uh huh.” Soonie yawns, cuddling closer to Johnny’s chest, and the sight makes you melt.
Johnny carries her out of the living room and up to the second level. He takes some time tucking her in, and then he comes back down to join you, holding two beers in his hands. 
“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.
“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”
“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”
“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 
Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.
“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”
“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”
You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 
“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”
You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?
You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.
But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.
Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.
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Five
It’s a pretty slow day after the lunch rush, so Johnny is sitting in the back office with Doyoung while they pick at their food. They often eat together once things settle down, and today is no different. 
What is different, however, is the topic of conversation Doyoung brings up. “How’s y/n doing?” he asks, taking a bite of his salad.
“She’s good. She helped me lock in a french toast recipe for Soonie’s birthday, so that was pretty helpful.”
“That’s nice,” Doyoung nods, “but I’m more interested in what’s going on between the two of you.”
“What do you mean?” Johnny asks, looking up from his schezwan beef noodle bowl. 
“I mean, you two have been friends for a long time. There’s a lot of history there.”
Johnny’s shocked that Doyoung is bringing this up. Out of all of the chef’s coworkers, he had not pegged Doyoung as being the man to bring up relationship gossip, and the whole thing takes him off guard for a moment. 
“We’re good friends,” Johnny says finally.
“I know that,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. “What’s holding you back from being more? It’s clear how much you two care about each other.”
Johnny looks down at his food, using his chopsticks to play around with a red pepper. “We do care about each other,” he confirms. “She was there for me with Soonie when no one else was, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”
“So why don’t you tell her how you really feel about her?” Doyoung presses. “It’s obvious in the way you look at each other- a smart woman like y/n, I’m shocked she hasn’t figured it out for herself by now.”
“I think, because of our history, there’s this… invisible line,” Johnny tries to explain. “Things are good the way they are now, if I try to mess with that… I could lose everything. And I wouldn’t just be losing it for myself, I’d be losing it for Soonie too.”
Doyoung lets out a breath, turning to face Johnny. “I get that it’s hard, but, you’ve got two paths ahead of you. If you give it a try, it could either end well, or badly. But if you keep yourself in this weird middle friend zone place, it’s like you’ve created a house at the crossroads, and that will never lead you anywhere.”
“When did you become so wise about love?” Johnny scoffs.
“Sumi has helped me with it,” Doyoung admits. “I met her here, we started off as friends. I’m her manager, so I had my own reasons for never taking the leap. I had my own house at the crossroads.”
“What made you finally give it a try?”
“She was there for me when my dad died,” Doyoung frowns. “Anyone can be there for you when things go badly, but when a woman truly gives her all to making things easier on you- it’s not something that should be ignored. After everything you and y/n have been through, you both deserve to give it a try.”
“How are you so sure she’d want to give it a try?”
“Because she looks at you the way you look at her.”
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Six
Cooking with Johnny might just be the easiest thing in the world. You’d thought that, due to it being Soonie’s birthday, maybe tensions would be high, but as the two of you collaborate in the kitchen, bumping hips and easily communicating, things feel as they always have: easy. 
Within fifteen minutes, the two of you have seamlessly cooked thirteen breakfasts for yourselves, Soonie, her four friends, and six adults… well, seven, if you include the Boken Avocado Bennies you’d whipped up for Doyoung.
While there are a number of staff puttering around doing pre-opening tasks, it’s Doyoung who takes the time to help you and Johnny bring all the food to the table. You love watching the stoic manager announce the Soonie-inspired brunch food names, and it’s clear that Soonbok is also enamoured by the shift in Doyoung’s countenance. 
Before everyone begins to eat, you take a group picture on Johnny’s phone, loving the massive smile on Soonie’s face.
As you’re about to sit down, Johnny asks one of the other moms to take a picture of just you, him and Soonie. With the two of you on either side of the birthday girl, you can’t help but think that this feels like a family picture. 
In a way, Johnny and Soonie are your family- but in the same breath, you’re cognisant of the fact that - had circumstances been different - it would be Soonbok’s mom in this picture right now, and not you. These are shoes that can simply never be filled, no matter how much you wish you could.
The thought isn’t one you like to hold on to, and it’s a thought that’s popped into your head innumerable times throughout the years. Taking your seat next to the birthday girl, you watch her try the french toast, her eyes lighting up.
On top of her own food, Soonie picks at yours and Johnny’s. Both of you are more than happy to share so she can taste more than just one of the special items Johnny had concocted for her. 
Brunch is full of laughter and girlish giggles that light up the deserted restaurant. It’s clear how important Johnny has made Soonie feel today, and that brings you more joy than you could ever express out loud. 
As things wind down, you and Johnny begin clearing plates to the dishpit. The two of you are shoulder to shoulder, and you’re overwhelmed by an odd sense of longing that you can’t quite describe.
Johnny turns to you, mouth opening as if he’s about to say something- but as servers pass behind you, it’s clear that there’s no room for him to say whatever it is that he wanted to say to you.
You clear your throat, watching a line chef pop up next to Johnny to stack the dishes for dishwasher prep. “You should go back to Soonie,” you tell him, “I’ll finish up with the cleanup.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Of course, it’s Soonie’s day, go be with her.” You offer him a smile, and Johnny reacts by reaching out to squeeze your hand.
Without another word, he leaves you to your thoughts, and the feeling of need that’s growing steadier and steadier in your chest.
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Seven
Johnny doesn’t know quite what to do with himself. Soonie’s birthday was yesterday, and today's day shift had been quite slow. He’s feeling restless with Soonie over at a friend’s place tonight, and he tries to drown himself in liquor- whether it be to chase away the loneliness or to gain courage, he’s not sure, but by nine oclock, Johnny finds himself dialing up your number.
“Hey, you,” you answer.
“Hey, yourself,” he grins. “Watcha up to?”
There’s a pause, and Johnny can hear people in the background. “I’m out actually.”
“Oh?” Johnny’s spirits dampen. “Out on another hot date?”
“Not so hot actually.”
Johnny bites at his lip. “I’ll let you go anyways.”
“It’s alright, I stepped out when you called. Do you need something?”
“I guess…” Johnny takes a breath. “I got into the liquor-”
“Say no more, I’ll be right over.”
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Eight
“So…” Johnny grins as the two of you head into his kitchen, “how did the date go?”
You scoff, watching him pour a glass of wine. “How do you think it went? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
“I mean… I am pretty hard to compete with,” Johnny flashes you a sexy grin… and proceeds to knock over the glass of wine. “Shit- fuck!”
“Listen, you go take a seat, and I’ll clean this up,” you laugh, watching him lumber toward the sofa. You make quick work of the mess, and when you’re done, you approach him in the living room.
“Come sit,” he prompts, patting the spot right next to him.
“Someone’s feeling awfully cuddly today,” you giggle when he grabs your hand to pull you down where he wants you, leaving no space between the two of you.
“What can I say? I’m a cuddly drunk.” 
“I can see that,” you note, assessing him.
His gaze dips to your lips, and your skin tingles. 
“Thank you for yesterday,” he says quietly.
“I told you, I was happy to help for Soonie’s special day.”
“It’s not just that,” he insists, “you’re always happy to help. I seriously-” he swallows thickly, “I seriously couldn’t have done anything I’ve done without you.”
“Don’t be so self deprecating,” you warn him, gently pushing his shoulder. “You’d have gotten anywhere you wanted, with or without me.”
“I still don’t have a food truck,” Johnny pouts.
You’d thought maybe he’d given up on that dream- although you’ve held onto hope for Johnny, more than he knows. “Now that you mention it, actually,” you say, pulling out your phone, “I’ve been looking at food trucks for sale online for a minute, and-”
Johnny’s gaze softens. “You’ve been researching for me?”
“Just a little,” you brush it off, trying to find the listing that you’d saved three days ago. “I found this decent looking one at a good price-”
“I think I love you.”
“Huh?” you freeze.
“I didn’t mean it,” Johnny says immediately, and your heart sinks. “I don’t think I love you, I know I do.”
“John, please, that’s the liquor talking.”
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he insists. “Look, you’ve always been there for me. We work together- and not just because we’re both chefs. Something about this,” Johnny gestures between the two of you, “it just works, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it.”
“Yeah?” You decide to play a little coy, seeing as this confession is coming from a drunk man. “And who else sees it?”
“Doyoung, for one.”
“Doyoung?” You let out a laugh. “Have you been gossiping about me with him?”
“I swear I didn’t bring it up,” Johnny defends himself. “Doyoung said I look at you with love, and that… that you look at me the same way.”
“Well… maybe Doyoung needs to get his eyes checked?”
“Don’t play with me,” Johnny begs, pulling you closer. “There’s always been a line between us, one we’ve both been too scared to cross… but, I think-”
“Now you’re crossing it,” you finish for him. “What made you want to do that?”
“Soonie’s birthday,” Johnny admits. “Our little family picture.”
“Our family picture,” you repeat, melting inside at the fact that he’d viewed the photo in the same light you had.
“Yeah.” Johnny nods. “Our family. Mine, and yours.” 
His hand finds your thigh, and you can’t help but reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across his angular bones. “I’m not sure what to say,” you admit.
“We don’t have to say anything,” Johnny assures you. “Just kiss me, and we can forget about the world for a minute.”
Your heart is racing in your chest as you hesitantly close the distance between your lips. It’s a gentle first kiss, but it soon grows hungry, and you’re not sure if that’s due to his appetite or your own.
His tongue swipes across your lip, and you open your mouth for him, letting out a soft sigh as you get lost in the feeling of the man who’s been your best friend for years.
His hand on your thigh squeezes, and before you know it, he’s pulling you onto his lap. Your knees dig into the sofa on either side of him, and you’re hesitant to fully sit down- a kiss is a kiss, but grinding on Johnny is something else entirely.
“Johnny,” you whisper, throwing your head back to look at the ceiling, wondering how you got into this situation.
“Yes, honey?” He presses kisses along your throat that have tingles shooting up your spine.
“You’re drunk,” you say finally.
“If I’d known you liked me too, I would have done this ages ago.”
“It’s not about that,” you laugh. “It’s about the fact that you’re drunk, and I want you sober when we do this.”
“Do what?” he teases, squeezing your hips, his tongue grazing over your jugular.
“You know what,” you retort with a huff. “Look, you’re right about the line neither of us wanted to cross.”
Johnny pulls away from your throat, looking up at you. “Huh?”
“The line. The unspoken line. All these years, something has been there, between us- but, we both respect your wife, we respect Soonie- I think… I think the time is right for this now, well, not right now, but, once you’re sober again.”
“You’re right,” Johnny concedes. 
“How about we watch a movie, then we can go to sleep.”
“You’ll stay over?” There’s a boyish excitement in his voice and it makes you melt.
“Uh huh.”
“Will you stay in my bed with me?”
“Just for cuddles, but only if you promise to drink a bunch of water before we sleep, I don’t want you hung over in the morning.”
Johnny grins. “You got it, honey.”
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Nine
Johnny wakes up next to a warm body, and it’s the first time in years. Your presence is the only thing that proves to him that last night wasn’t a dream, some twisted fantasy- No, you’re real, and you’re here, and you’d kissed him back-
He stays cuddled with you for a while, basking in the glow of being in love, truly in love, and finally able to admit it to himself. It’s been so long since his wife, and part of him had forgotten the feeling- maybe that’s why it had taken years for him to realize how much he adores you.
After a while, Johnny decides he needs some water- and he wants to make breakfast for you. He wants to spoil you the way you spoil him.
Johnny is careful as he exits the bed, taking one last look at your peaceful face before heading down to the kitchen.
It’s easy for Johnny to get lost in the act of cooking, focusing on bacon at first before switching to eggs. As it was a few days ago, the smell of food wakes you up, and soon you’re joining him by the stove.
“Watcha making?” you ask, wrapping your body around his.
God, the feeling of you is- fuck, he can’t even describe how good it is.
“Wanted to make you breakfast,” he tells you, plating your food first. Once he has you settled and sitting, he quickly throws together a breakfast sandwich for himself.
“You and your sandwiches,” you laugh, digging into your bacon and eggs.
“How did you sleep?” he asks, coming to join you.
“So well,” you tell him, bumping your knee against his own, “even if someone snores.” 
Johnny can only laugh, he’s dealt with Soonbok complaining about his loud snoring for years. “How are the eggs?”
“Good!” 
You’re so chipper this morning, and he loves it. Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich- you’d cooked the eggs at the brunch birthday two days ago, and he realizes Soonie was right. “Your eggs are better,” he muses.  
“I’d planned on making breakfast for you, but you jumped the gun, big guy.”
“I wanted to pamper you for a change.”
“Cooking is my love language,” you tell him. “I’m excited to make you breakfast more often.”
“I like the sound of that,” he smiles.
“When’s Soonie come home?”
Johnny checks the clock on the stove. “In an hour or so.”
“As much as I’d love to see her, I think maybe it’s better if I’m not here when she gets home,” you say thoughtfully. “She’s a smart girl, I bet she’d be able to tell that something is up.”
“She definitely would,” Johnny confirms. “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you that much if you stick around.”
You giggle, reaching over to squeeze his knee.
“How are you feeling about last night?” Johnny asks.
“I’m feeling good, how about you? Still remember all of it?”
“In perfect detail,” he breathes. “Although… a little reminder wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you tease as he leans in, cupping your face so he can press his lips to your own. 
God, you’re such a good kisser. It just works. It’s hard for him to even pull away, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.
“Take me out on a date,” you say.
“Hmm?”
“A date,” you repeat. “Just because we’ve known each other for years doesn’t mean we can skip steps.”
“I respect that,” Johnny nods. “I’ve got a busy week, and it will have to be a night where Soonie is out, but… we’ll make it work.”
Johnny’s so certain it will work, because things between you have always worked, and he can’t wait to see where this takes you. 
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Ten
It’s been a week, but finally Johnny found time for that date night. Soonie is out with friends again, so it’s the perfect opportunity to get some alone time with the man who’s been on your mind constantly.
He picks you up in his old Dodge truck, compliments your outfit, and refuses to tell you where you’re going or what the plan is.
When you arrive back at his place, you’re honestly not even surprised. “Let me guess, you took me to the best chef in town?”
“You know all my lines, honey,” he grins. 
“So, chef, what’s on the menu?”
“I thought maybe you’d take a seat and let me cook for you.”
“As if I’d take a back seat,” you scoff. “What are we making?”
Johnny had made hand made fettucini before he’d come to pick you up. You let him take lead in making a white wine, garlic cream sauce with button mushrooms, spinach and crispy prosciutto, but you insist on being his sous chef and taking care of the chicken.
The smell is heavenly, and as he finishes it all off with fresh herbs, you think you start to drool a little.
“For a guy who claims to specialize in sandwiches of all things, you’re pretty good with italian,” you muse as you take your first bite and nearly moan.
“I’m pretty good with a lot of things,” Johnny laughs. 
“Look at you being all cocky.”
“You love it.”
He’s so right.
The two of you chat and laugh together while eating. It’s one of the best meals you’ve had in a very long time. When dinner is over, Johnny suggests a movie. As the two of you settle on the couch, he prompts you to come closer, and soon, the two of you are cuddled together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He’s so warm and comforting- you find yourself dozing off a little, although, maybe it’s something of a food coma from all the pasta.
Johnny brings his lips to your ear, and you shiver when he asks, “Should I carry you to bed, honey?” 
Part of you wants to tell him you’re not Soonie and you won’t be calling him daddy any time soon- but another part of you wants to lean into this. It’s been so long since you felt like you could be babied, and if anyone is going to bring out that side of you, it’s going to be Johnny.
“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask, cognizant of the stairs he’ll have to climb.
“Have you seen my arms? I won’t drop you, honey, I promise.”
You allow him to scoop you up, and you feel like a giggling school girl again as he takes you up to his room. “Do you have a shirt I could wear to sleep?” 
“Choose anything,” he tells you. “When you’re changed, you can join me in the bathroom, I went and got a toothbrush for you.”
Before you know it, you’re cuddled in Johnny’s bed, wearing panties and one of his big shirts. He’s pressed to your back, his mint tinged breath warm on the nape of your neck. There’s no pressure for sex, no pressure for anything other than the situation at hand, and you can tell you’re both very content with it. 
Soon, you’re drifting off to sleep in the arms of a man who’s been a cornerstone of your life.
It’s a deep, dreamless sleep, and it passes in the blink of an eye. You awaken to light beaming through his window, a warm body behind you, and something hard pressed against your ass.
You laugh to yourself- morning wood isn’t something men can help. Even so, you stir a little, adjusting to get more comfortable.
Johnny releases a sleepy groan.
You stay still, not wanting to wake him, but it feels like the damage is already done when he wraps you tighter in his embrace. “Morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
“Hi,” you respond lightly.
Now it’s Johnny’s turn to shift, and you feel his body tense when he does so. “Fuck,” he goes to pull away, “sorry, I uh-”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, grabbing his forearm so he can’t move away, “keep cuddling me.”
Johnny returns, flush against your back, his hard cock pressing even more firmly to your ass.
“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” he asks.
“More than okay with it.”
“Yeah?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your throat. “Are you okay with this, too?” Johnny mumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin.
“Uh huh,” you sigh, wiggling your bum back against him and arching your neck to give him better access.
His hand finds your hip, gently squeezing you through the shirt you’re wearing. His lips are soft against you, but there’s a need in his motions too, and he begins to grind against your ass.
You let out a groan when he finds the sweet spot just below your ear, and he licks at it, making you moan louder.
“Are we going to do this?” he asks, nipping at your earlobe.
“Fuck it, yes.” You can’t hold back anymore, you turn in his embrace, quickly mounting him and smashing your lips to his own.
Johnny grins into the kiss, holding your hips while you settle on top of him, grinding down against his clothed cock while your tongues begin to clash.
His kisses have you seeing stars, your mind going blank except for him.
Soon, his hands slip under your shirt, slowly grazing up your sides. “Can I take this off of you?” he asks.
You open your eyes to look down at him, studying his pretty lips and his chocolate eyes. 
Instead of responding, you sit up, grabbing the hem of the oversized T and lifting it over your head, tossing it to the side and baring yourself to your best friend for the first time.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, gaze falling to your tits. His hands stay at a respectable location on your hips, and you grab one to lift it to your breast, adding pressure so he knows he’s allowed to give you a test squeeze.
Johnny begins to massage you, and you throw your head back, releasing a groan, swiveling your hips against him.
His thumb brushes over your hardened nipple and you mewl loudly, core throbbing from the stimulus.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, propping himself up so he can take your nipple into his mouth.
You cup the back of his head, keeping him on your chest while he worships you. His other hand finds your neglected breast, gently pinching and massaging while he sucks on your sensitive bud.
“John-” You don’t even know what to say, you’re entirely wrapped up in him. 
You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. 
Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more. 
Johnny pulls away from your breasts, cupping the back of your head and drawing your lips to his again. “We should take our clothes off,” he suggests.
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all week,” you laugh. 
He helps you off of him, and you lay next to each other for a moment, both fumbling to get naked. As soon as you’re fully nude, Johnny rolls on top of you, slotting between your thighs. His lips find yours again, and his free hand trails down your body, teasing through your pussy lips.
“You’re already so wet,” he muses.
“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” you admit.
“Me too,” he assures you, capturing your mouth with his own while he teases a finger into your hole. You push your hips up, wanting more, and you latch onto his strong shoulders, moaning into the kiss.
Johnny’s a big man, and his finger is enough to have you wriggling below him. “Easy, honey,” he grins, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration. “Gotta stretch you open.”
“Fuck,” you groan- does this man read erotica in his spare time? How is a thirty year old, single dad, this well versed in dirty talk even though you’re pretty sure he hasn’t been laid in forever?
He adds a second finger, curling them to find your gspot. As he pumps his hand, lips pressed to yours in a mad frenzy, you can hear your wetness with each motion. 
It feels unreal- have fingers alone ever done a number like this on you?
Johnny twists his hand a little, knuckles dragging along your sensitive inner walls. It’s like he’s trying to carve out a space for his cock, although, you know now that this won’t be enough. He’s thick and throbbing on your hip, his length so large you think he might just blow your entire back out when he slips it into you.
Even though you’re eager to be - for lack of a better word - impaled on him, Johnny takes his time kissing you, his fingers continuing their motions. “Wanna rub your clit for me?” he asks, moving his mouth to your neck. “I want to watch you cum.”
Your toes curl at his words, and you bring your hand to your pussy, drawing circles on the sensitive bud while he continues to stroke your inner walls.
Your core throbs around him, whimpers of pleasure escaping you. 
“You’re being so good for me, honey,” Johnny tells you, making your insides flutter even more from the sincere words of praise.
Cumming hasn’t always been the easiest thing in the world for you. There are many partners you’ve had who never had the wherewithal to get you there- but somehow, Johnny just knows you. Or maybe, it’s because he knows you- because you feel safe with him, that you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
It also helps that it’s your own fingers on your clit, you know exactly what you like, what pressure, what motions- the digits working you open are just an added bonus that have you seeing stars as you make your way to your peak.
“John,” you gasp, tits pushing up toward his chest when your back arches. “I’m gonna-”
“Let it out for me,” he encourages you softly. “You deserve it.”
“I deserve your cock,” you whine, shocked at your own blatant neediness.
Johnny only laughs. “After,” he assures you, “I promise.”
A few more circles of your clit has the cord in your stomach snapping, your orgasm washing over your like warm summer waves. Your entire body tingles with delight, gasps leaving you as your pussy fully throbs around his fingers, your clit pulsing with desire.
“So pretty,” he whispers, bringing his lips to yours.
From the way he smiles against your mouth, you can tell he doesn’t care that you’re moaning so much he can hardly kiss you.
It’s a closeness you’ve never felt before, and he helps you through your orgasm until you’re pulling your hand away in favour of grabbing his shoulders.
Johnny takes his fingers out of your core, and you watch under hooded eyelids as he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean and releasing a groan. “Everything you do tastes better than what I bring to the table.”
You laugh. He’s such a fucking chef.
“Some might even say it’s…” you stifle a giggle, “Finger licking good.” 
Johnny lets out a laugh, eyes lighting up. God, you love this soft, laughter infused sex- you’ve never experienced anything like it.
You grab the back of his neck, drawing his mouth to your own. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and there’s something so erotic about it. He moans loudly, rubbing his cock between your wet pussy lips.
The tip of his cock is stimulating your clit and it sends jitters through you. You can feel how soaked you are, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this ended with a wet patch on his bed from how turned on you’ve been throughout this whole experience.
Johnny seems intent with grinding against you, but you’re lacking patience today, and you reach between your bodies to grab his cock.
Johnny breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours and looking down at where you’re gripping him. He doesn’t say anything, his gaze shifting back to your own. There’s a question in his eyes, and you’re both aware that this is the final line. Once you cross this, there’s no going back.
You bring his cock to your wet hole, and with very little effort, you help guide the head of his cock inside of you.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans immediately, fists bunching at the pillow on either side of your head. “You’re so tight- are you sure you’re good with this?”
“You’re just- fuck,” you whimper as another inch sinks into you, “you’re just big!”
“Maybe you’ll have to get used to it,” he grins, pushing deeper.
You moan loudly, clawing at his shoulders. “Maybe I will,” you gasp. 
He brings his mouth close to your own, until your lips are just brushing, eyes meeting when he says, “I’m looking forward to it.”
As he kisses you, he pushes fully into your warm, wet, throbbing core. His hips are flush to your own, and you swear no one’s ever been this deep inside of you.
Your legs shake on either side of his hips, body suspended in this odd purgatory-like place between extreme pleasure, and an uncomfortable feeling of being stretched more than you’ve ever been stretched before.
“Are you good?” he asks, lips moving to your cheek while you struggle to aclimatize to his cock.
“Yeah,” you nod quickly. “Just- fuck me, it will be easier.”
“If you say so, honey.”
The first thrust has your toes curling, eyes clenching shut with pleasure. A sound that’s never come from you before leaves your lips- a sound you’ve heard in porn, but always thought was an overexpression.
Your fingers dig into Johnny’s shoulders, and he holds you close, mouth finding your neck while he begins to fuck you.
Although, would this be called fucking?
The fluidity of his motions- the way you’re clinging to each other- it feels more like making love, and your skin tingles with the realization.
“Johnny?” you whisper.
“Yeah?”
“Tell me you love me again, like you did when you were drunk.”
“I love you,” he says immediately, holding you even tighter. “I love you so much that sometimes it hurts.”
Your entire body both relaxes and is set on fire by his words, your core throbbing desperately around his massive cock. 
“Johnny-” you whimper.
“Tell me you love me too,” he pleads.
“I love you too,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his face close to yours so you can look up into his eyes. “I love you too.” 
Johnny’s hand finds your thigh, hiking it higher on his hip. Somehow, he hits even deeper now, and you wriggle below him, more sounds of pleasure escaping you and filling the room.
“You sound so good, honey- I won’t last if you keep squeezing me and moaning-”
“Then don’t last,” you gasp. “Want you to cum.”
“Where should I cum?”
“Inside- I’m on birth control, just- fuck, Johnny, cum inside.”
He groans, pressing his mouth firmly to your own, his tongue dancing along yours as his motions get even faster.
You’re clinging to him for dear life at this point, and when he slips a hand between your bodies to rub your clit, you nearly begin to cry from how good it feels.
“Love the way your pussy sucks me in when we play with your clit,” he tells you. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck-
“Do you think you can cum for me again? I don’t want to be the only one cumming.”
“Yeah, yeah- fuck, yeah, I can cum again,” you whimper desperately.
“Let me know when,” he instructs, adjusting his motions ever so slightly so each thrust has his cock dragging against your gspot.
You let out a squeal of delight, your thighs shaking around his hips, stomach muscles clenching almost painfully-
“Fuck, John, I’m there- shit, fuck-”
Johnny shuts you up with his lips against your own, and for a second time, your orgasm hits you.
Your core clamps down incredibly hard on his cock, and Johnny groans deeply above you, fingers twitching on your clit. He keeps his pace, and a moment later, you feel his cum filling you up, coating your walls with warmth.
The feeling of his large length throbbing in your own oversensitive hole has your entire mind going fuzzy, and you kiss him like a woman lost, like a woman so completely in love that nothing else matters.
You ride out your orgasms together, until you’re both shaking. Only then does Johnny come to a stop on top of you, kisses turning to a more gentle nature as he holds you close. 
“I love you,” he tells you again.
You smile, blinking up at your best friend. “And I love you.”
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Epilogue
The two of you are in the kitchen cooking brunch. Johnny is pressed to your back, watching intently, asking all sorts of questions about how you cook eggs to make them so delicious and superior to his own.
“The secret ingredient is love,” you tease.
Johnny can only laugh, holding you tighter.
He’s so lost in you, that he loses track of time, and as the two of you are sitting down to eat, Soonbok walks through the front door. She stops in her tracks when she sees you, letting her little overnight bag slip to the ground.
“Oh, hi, baby,” Johnny stands up immediately.
“Hi, daddy,” Soonie says, allowing her dad to pick her up for a hug while her eyes shift to you.
“Did Sabrina’s mom drop you off?” Johnny asks, looking out the door to wave at Soonie’s friend’s mom as she drives away.
“As always, daddy,” Soonie laughs. “I didn’t know y/n was coming over.”
“Surprise,” you grin, also standing so that when Johnny sets his daughter to the ground, she can run to give you a hug of your own.
Once Soonie is done squeezing you as tight as her little arms can muster, she looks between you and Johnny. For some reason, Johnny feels his heart beginning to race, there’s a knowing in his daughters eyes.
“What’s going on?” Soonie asks finally.
“Y/N and I just had a little sleep over,” Johnny tries to explain, and the concept isn’t a new one, you sleep over frequently… in the guest bedroom.
“So…” a wicked grin appears on Soonbok’s face, “Does this mean you’ll stop trying to get me to call her auntie now?”
“What?” Johnny lets out a surprised laugh.
“You heard me, daddy,” Soonbok’s smile widens. “Does this… does this mean we’ll be a real family now?”
Johnny lets out a shuddery breath. In the years you’ve been helping raise Soonbok, Johnny has broached the idea of her calling you Auntie Y/N, as a respect thing, and his daughter has always refused. Had she seen the connection this whole time? Has this been something Soonbok has wanted ever since she was a five year old with an inquisitive mind and an even more discerning eye?
Johnny’s gaze shifts to you, and you flash him a warm smile.
“Yeah, baby,” Johnny picks up his daughter. “We can be a real family now.”
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! This was such a fun project for me, thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to write for Chef John, he deserved his happy ending :)
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🔮 preview. The man ordering can’t see you lying on the floor of the food truck. He has no idea what’s going on- and you feel like tempting fate a little. You bring your hand to your pussy, beginning to rub yourself through your pants, adjusting the vibrator ever so slightly as it buzzes inside you. Johnny nearly drops the tomato he’s holding, quickly tearing his gaze from yours. You’ve never seen him trying to focus this hard- and failing. What had been your torture initially, has just become his own, and you kind of love it.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism (fucking in a food truck), use of vibrator while helping a customer, vibrator as a makeshift gag ball, breast worship, fucking with half your clothes on, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink, etc…   I petnames. (hers) honey
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 230
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
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bonus
You love working with Johnny. Sure, it had been rough at first, getting his food truck on its feet, but it’s been two years, and with some insanely good marketing, you’re now running one of the top trucks in the city.
It’s a joy to watch Johnny fulfill his dreams every day- his odd obsession with sandwiches of all things has only added to your connection. Watching him smile and charm guests makes your heart swell with joy, and on the rare occasion Soonie comes to do the register and take orders, it feels like you’re just one happy family.
Today, however, is a weather disaster. The forcast had mentioned light sprinkles, but cuddled next to Johnny looking out at the torrential downpour, you both feel a little bamboozled.
“You know what would make this more fun?” Johnny asks.
“Customers?” you suggest.
“Yes, but also… I got you something.” The chef flashes you a sly smirk, and you pull away from his shoulder to asses him.
“Am I going to like where this is going?” you ask.
He was single for so long- and there’d been so many sexual things he’d missed out on during that time, but the two of you are making up for it every moment you have alone. You suppose this is a moment alone, so you’re not really shocked that his mind is in the gutter.
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clairenatural · 1 year ago
Text
Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.
It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.
It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.
He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.
Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.
So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.
It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”
Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 
Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 
The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”
It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.
Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.
"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.
Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.
"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.
"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.
He turns the keys. He drives them home.
Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).
Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.
It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"
Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."
"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."
"You didn't correct her?"
"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.
"Uh huh."
"It felt trivial."
"To tell her we're not married?"
"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.
Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."
"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.
Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.
"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"
Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"
Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."
Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."
Across the table, Cas grins at him.
"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.
"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."
"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."
They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.
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leafostuff · 3 months ago
Text
Blind sexDate[Ft. StayC's Isa & Fromis_9's Chaeyoung]
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Tags: none, its a threesome
Word count: 6.5K
Author's: that...took a while, started to write this in 26th of August so i did take a very long time to finally have this out but here it is: my October upload
I really want to thank @prael @capslocked @octoberautumnbox and many others from the discord for helping me with stuff I wasn't sure about, i am really proud of that fic and i hope everyone else will enjoy reading it as much as i had fun writing it.
=================================
She sounds pretty.
It's the lilt of her voice, how it does a cute thing where she almost, but not quite rolls her r's and chews on her consonants. A voice that sounds like it belongs to someone small. Someone, you know - conventionally attractive. 
Four minutes, fifty-five seconds. And that's pretty much all she has going for her.
"Let me tell you about my friend's vacation," she starts again, and you've lost track of if this is the same friend, same vacation - or a new one. They're all blending together.
you always thought the ‘blind’ was a figure of speech. it's fucking pitch black, you wonder if compared to the other guys you were underdressed,, you did see one guy with a blazer and jeans your paycheck couldn't even pay a quarter of it.
But back to the girl, her non stop ramble is now a background noise in your ears, not even sure you can recall who is the ex of who and which boyfriend cheated on her best friend with her sister. Your brain can't keep up.
but regardless, the first round is thankfully over, say your goodbyes to the first girl and stay in your chair.
you consider leaving right now to try and not get disappointed even more, however…
“Hey” The next girl is already here, it will be rude of you to leave just like that.
“Hi I am Jake” you respond
“Nice to meet you, my name is Chaeyoung, but you can just call me Isa” she responds. The first impression you gather is her voice, Airy and sweet like honey
“Huh, it's a pretty name, First time I ever heard a name like that ” you can hear a quiet giggle to your compliment.
“Thank you, I am actually from South Korea, I came here to LA for summer vacation”.
“That's cool, I actually live in LA myself” You lean back in your chair, getting comfortable around the mysterious girl.
“Oh wow” you could hear the excitement in her voice. “Do you have any places you can recommend to me?” she asked.
“Uhh…well, Here in Santa Monica Pier it's always fun for tourists too walk around here, I assume you have already been at the walk of fame in Hollywood and Universal studios” you answer. 
“I have to say though: this whole dating in the darkness is very fun, isn't it?” Fun is certainly one way to describe this, the other way is a gamble but for the sake of keeping the conversation fun you agree with her.
“Its like all of my other senses are much stronger, like some superhero…” Isa giggles, it's addictive that you can't help but join, with the sound of small shifts on her chair you can imagine how she is doing some battle poses.
“Hehe thats truuu-” quickly shut your mouth, that voice crack was the last thing you needed on a date but fortunately for you, Chaeyoung sounds a short laugh.
“Nervous?”
“hehe…Yeah, been a while since i was on a date” you explain, recalling your experiences with your failed relationships, it still stings a bit.
"Let's play a game then." There's some faint sounds of movement—a ruffling of clothes and the creak of a chair. She sounds clearer now, her voice doesn't have to carry as far and she's far more pronounced. 
"Help you relax a bit: What do you think I look like?” she asks, her tone is playful and happy as if she is the host of a game show, This second date goes better than you expected.
“Hmm…let me think…I am gonna guess that you have…black hair…is it long?” Your first answer is hesitant.
“Not telling~” she responds with a playful note. “How about my clothes?”
There is curiosity in her voice, excited to see how you will respond, you could hear her fingers tapping on the table, remembering to not waste time. “Well, you sound like a sweet girl, like the simple things in life, so…” you pause, trying to imagine her in many different styles and clothes that could fit her in the 5 or so minutes that you got to know her. 
Remember who is wasting who’s time so better lock in your answer now and say.
“My guess is… a summer dress?” quite the answer you give out, and the way you say it like you are one answer away from receiving the grand prize of Chaeyoung's game show, but back to her answer…
“You think it's something I will wear?” Isa questions, her tone sounds like she is also imagining herself wearing one.
“Yeah, it looks cute,” you respond. “And its not too crazy to wear on a first date” you add, hearing a small giggle after.
“Ok, i will keep it mind next time we meet”
“Will there be a next time?”
“I don't see why not”
You're happy, a bit surprised it didn't take you that much time to find someone in this speed blind dating thing, expecting more or less what happened the prior date but here you are.
“It's your turn to guess now?” You ask, already feeling comfortable around her.
“Ok ok, so i-”
But sadly as if life has decided to cockblock you, the time is over as an alarm can be heard as a signal to switch, you can only look at the general direction of where Chaeyoung could be and sigh, showing your disappointment.
“We can always meet later if you want” you can feel her wanting to continue her date with you but every good thing must come to an end
“Of course, it was very fun talking with you”
“Same to you as well” you can hear Isa lift herself from the chair. “See ya” she added in a happy tone before leaving you at the lone table. You can't help yourself but smile.
“Maybe it won't be as bad as i thought” 
=================================
Time goes on and other girls come and go, however, you can't help but wonder more about Isa, what makes her laugh? What does she like to do on the weekends? what are her dreams, aspirations and everything in between, the curiosity killed you inside.
more importantly: you wonder what she looks like, outside of the darkness you were both in. If it wasn't clear enough: you are interested in her, they all say love at first sight doesn't exist but here you are, letting your mind fill with the idea of her.
You are set in stone of your choice, and there is no chance you will change yo-.
“uhm Hello? Are you there?”
Zoom out of your thoughts, focus on the husky, feminine voice coming from what seems to be in front of you. How long has she been sitting there? How long have you been daydreaming?? Thank god it's dark so quickly compose yourself before it can get awkward and start talking.
“Oh hi, im jake. Nice to meet you”
“Uhh, nice to meet you too,” she responds, it's not hard to hear the shakiness and in her voice showing her nervousness to you, the small shifting sounds in her chair. “I am Chaeyoung”.
You're caught off guard, the world is smaller than it seems with you meeting two girls Sharing the same name, “isn't that a Korean name?”
“Uh, yeah, how…how did you know?”.
“I actually met another girl named Chaeyoung before in here” you say, it would be funny if they actually knew each other but the chances are slim. It's not like you know every Jake either.
“Oh, that's cool…” she mumbled, sounding as if she was disappointed to hear it
The silence is now getting awkward, you both wait for the other one to start breaking more of the ice and it seems that she was the patient one between both of you since you are the first to give up and get the conversation going.
“So what do you do? For a living I mean” you are met with unintelligible mumbles as an answer, a bit unsure you ask her again to clarify.
“I…model, it's not super serious though” Chaeyoung quietly answered, you could hear light, quick taps beneath the table.
“Oh wow, I bet you are like, really pretty if you do modeling” you dont know how much confidence you got to say such a thing but you are already mentally face-palming yourself. You could feel yourself gaining some creep points in her mind over this comment.
“Oh, uhh Thank…thank you very much” Chaeyoung stutters, her tone jumps an Octave, sounding a small giggle. You can only sigh in relief that you didn't weird Chaeyoung out.
“I'm in LA for a photoshoot, since we finished earlier than expected i got a couple of days free to hang out around the city” she explains, still sounding nervous but much more at ease than before. “So what do you do for work, Jake?” She returns your question to you.
“Ah, I just work as a barista in a small café, nothing much.” you manage to say in a montone, unpleasant tone. You are a bit embarrassed that you have the chance to blind date a model while you are the equivalent of nothing compared to her
“It’s-It’s okay, i'm honestly not some super popular model” her words quickly come out of her mouth. “Besides, I can imagine being a barista is much more relaxing of a job, not trying to get every deal possible just not to lose money.”
“I mean, it doesn't pay much but it is less stressful,” you respond. You can hear two glasses of water placed on the wooden table with one of them handed to you, together with a straw since you could imagine how drinking from the cup would end like.
“So, what does a model like you” you stop, taking a small sip of the water to refresh yourself. -doing in blind speed dating?”
“It's just easier for me, usually when i go on dates I get nervous, and my eyes travel too much, and I kind of panic…” Chaeyoung explains, lightly giggling at her own experience before taking a sip from her water glass as well .“So I thought doing something like this could help me feel uhh you know… less stressed.”
“Hey, you do you, as long as you are comfortable.”
“Yeah, that's true,” Chaeyoung replied. Her voice turns less shaky and more clear than at the start of your date, it was clear that both of you had fun on that date.
So much so that in fact, you both were caught off guard by the timer for your date finishes and the lights suddenly turn up again, revealing the girl in front of you for the first time.
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Right off the bat; you understand why Chaeyoung is a model.
A heart-shaped face and a delicate, soft jawline paired with brown, expressive eyes and Black shoulder-length silky hair that is enough to make every man look at her in awe, including you. Even her clothing is model-like with a Chic, stylish black off shoulder shirt and Denim jeans that show her features exceptionally well. By the way, you should say something before you will sound weird
“Oh, nice to meet you” stand up from your chair and raise your hand to a handshake.
“Nice to meet you too, i gotta say that i didn't see that coming at all” Chaeyoung cheerfully responded while shaking your hand, sounding a sincere chuckle while her eyes joined her wide smile.
“Same, i almost had a heart attack” you jokingly say while you get your jacket off your chair. “Say, wanna go outside? Maybe get to know each other more” she only nods, taking her jacket from her chair as you both head out from your table toward the exit of the bar.
=================================
“Oh, here you are” you recognize this airy voice, taken aback as you look at where the voice comes from.
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Though you were right about the black hair, you did miss the mark on Isa's outfit. Short crop top and tight jeans, that cute summer dress was nowhere to be found.
Her cat-like eyes lock onto yours, she flashes a sweet yet devilish grin before heading toward the two of you.
“Gotta say Jake: i had a feeling you were good looking, but i didn't expect you to be this good looking” Isa compliments you, giving a small wink then her gaze turns to Chaeyoung with curious eyes.
“Your friend?” She asks you,
“Hi, I'm Chaeyoung, nice to meet you” She says, reaching her hand forward as Isa is suddenly taken by surprise.
“Um, I am Chaeyoung”
“That's my name”
“That's… also my name"
“What's your family name?” Chaeyoung asks, now intrigued by the other girl.
“Its Lee” Isa responds, now it's Chaeyoung’s turn to be surprised.
“that's also…my family name”
During this, you are just looking at what's happening in front of you. As much as you are curious, you are also worried since it seems like both were interested in dating you after this.
However, one quick look at each other, another one to look at you and then looking back at each other, the two girls started laughing, both covering their mouths to muffle the volume. You can only sigh in relief that it turned for the better.
Eventually they both let their laughs out as Chaeyoung speaks. “It's quite a surprise to meet another Korean here in LA”.
“Please, call me Isa, and same, nice to meet you too Chaeyoung” she replies, chuckling lightly as the other girl can't help but start chuckling as well before they reach their hand for a small handshake
“Well that went better than expected” you manage to slip in the conversation reminding them that you are still here.
“You also met him on Speed dating?”
Chaeyoung nods. “We were the last round before the lights turned on, you two met earlier?” 
“Yeah, the other guys were kind of boring but he was a breath of fresh air” Isa explains, turning her gaze to you and winking at you. You could swear your heart skipped a beat.
At this moment one question rose in your mind and as you looked at the two girls with an awkward look, they both realized what you were as they sounded a small ‘oh’ before looking at each other again. As much as you didn't want you, you had to choose one of the girls to be your date.
“You can go out with Jake” Chaeyoung quickly says, smiling sweetly and lightly pushing Isa toward you, both you and the cat-like girl are surprised.
“Chaeyoung? Are you sure?” you question, why was she suddenly
“Yeah yeah, I'm sure, You two met before I met you, so she should have you” she explains, her eyes joining her smile. You did feel bad about leaving Chaeyoung out however an idea was about to be suggested that would fix that problem.
Then again, you aren't sure if this was an actual fix…
“I dont mind you dating us both”
What
“What?” Chaeyoung raises her eyebrow in surprise at Isa, the one who suggested that idea out of the blue, you were not far behind Chaeyoung in your reaction as well, being completely confusement.
“I mean dont see why not, I like you, you like me, she likes you, You like her. I am bad at math but it doesn’t seem too hard to solve this problem” Isa explains looking at you, You and Chaeyoung swap looks, you can feel your cheek heating up and changing to a pink shade.
“I mean uh…as long as Jake doesn't mind, it's okay by me” Chaeyoung stutters, Isa likes this response as she smiles at her new friend, her arm goes around Chaeyoung’s shoulder.
“Im sure it will be great, So what do you say Jake?~” Isa’s voice is sweet when she looks at you with her warm smile, Chaeyoung’s smile is also there but is much more timid.
The choice was now in your field, you didn't expect there to be a third option in the first place and all in honesty: That idea seemed like trouble. But when Isa looks at you with her cheerful smile, standing like that next to Chaeyoung with a smile that makes them look together like the next cover page for a magazine, it's hard to say no to them.
And deep inside: you don't want to.
“Sure, if that's what you two want” you respond, it seems they are both satisfied with your choice as they look at each other with warm smiles. 
you honestly didn't mind this idea as long as they were both happy, besides, what's the worst that could happen?.
=================================
“Dang it!” Isa yelled, almost managing to block your hit of the air puck but it ended up inside the goal because of the unusual angle you shot it. “So…a model, that sounds like a cool job to have, no?” She directed her question to Chaeyoung, giving her the mallet she was holding.
“Huh? Oh yeah, it's fine, I'm not getting many offers compared to the average model” Chaeyoung answers, half focused on aiming the first shot before quickly shooting it at your goal. “but it's good money”
You reflect the puck. “I mean, if it's something you like to D-” Stop what you are saying and block the surprise attack Chaeyoung does, look at her cheeky smile as you know she almost scored“-Do, you can do almost everything you want” you continue what you were saying as you send the puck toward her direction.
“Yeah that's true” Chaeyoung smiled toward you, then quickly smacking the puck directly into your goal, getting herself a point. “So, what do you two work at?”.
“A Gaming cafe, Came to LA as a summer trip with my friends after exams” Isa replied, taking your mallet and shooting the puck from her side.
“Damn, compared to you two my job sounds boring as fuck, You are a model, you work at a gaming cafe, and i am just a barista at a cafe” you jokingly roast yourself, eyes moving from side to side with each side the puck goes to.
“Huh, not my first thought when it comes to your job,” Isa says, a bit surprised. “But…i imagine you look quite handsome in barista clothes” And there she goes again, with that flirty smile and curious eyes that you swear you fall in love deeper than you were.
Now look at Chaeyoung, not as flirty as the other girl but it seems that, unlike the first time you met her, she is much less tense, more at ease around the two of you, genuinely enjoying her time.
After the air hockey game is over and a quick stop to get some of LA’s finest street food (which the two seemed to really enjoy for their first time), the three of you are now sitting on the boardwalk, the sound of the waves going back and forth is singing in your ears, however now they topic of the conversation seems to get more…laid-back.
“So let me get this straight: your best friend is Korean, right?” You ask, Isa responds with a small nod
“And she has a British accent?” Chaeyoung continues your question, getting Isa to laugh again.
“Yes-” she stops talking to take a sip from the water bottle in her. “Fully Korean, with a British accent, one time my friends and I were listening to a song called ‘Run 2 U’ by some random group, and she said the name of the song as” she suddenly released a small chuckle unable to keep her cool.
“As what? Just tell us” Chaeyoung comments, half smiling as if she already knows the answer, Isa meanwhile slowly downed the water so she wouldn't choke before finally saying after a deep breath.
“Raeun tew yew…” The mock accent that Isa adds gives the punch line more of an oomph as you all start laughing, small tears of joy leave your eyes as you slam the wooden deck, meanwhile, Chaeyoung covers her mouth to hide the amount of blush she has on her cheeks from how hard she is laughing.
“Oh that was good, I didn't expect to laugh this hard” You exclaim, taking a deep breath as you now go back to staring at the waves. “Honestly…this date has been really fun, with both of you,”.
“Like-wise, we both enjoyed your company as well” Chaeyoung replies, sweetly giggling while her left fingers go to her hair, pushing it aside with the side effect of getting your cheeks slightly pink, luckily the weak lighting make it hard to see for the two girls.
“Same for me” Isa chimed in with a smile. “Say, want to continue it somewhere else? It's getting late” she prompts as a soft yawn escapes her mouth.
“Huh? Okay, if you want my place is close” you say, standing up from the deck as you lend your hand to help her stand up.
“That's great” She says as her gaze turns to the other girl. “You're coming as well Chae?”.
Chaeyoung suddenly tensed up in surprise. “Chae?” she asks, to which Isa just giggles at her rather cute reaction.
“Yeah, it's a cute nickname, you don't mind it, right?” Her tone is sweet when she asks her friend with a warm smile, that way when Chaeyoung smiles, she mirrors the same warmth with her own smile.
“Of course i don't” she responds, standing up and lightly stretching to gain some sense of her body, “So? Lets go”
“Great” Isa comments before turning her gaze to you. “Jake, mind leading the way?”
=================================
The ride home is quieter than usual.
Not that there were not any talks inside the cab you decided to take to your place, but most of the talking was done by the two girls, sitting on each side of you, only speaking in a language you can only assume is korean.
It’s a simple loop: Isa says something, they look at you (which you could only smile awkwardly at their happy gazes), Chaeyoung answers with something else and they start giggling, sneaking another look at you and then it goes back again.
Eventually the taxi stops, leaving you right in front of your apartment complex. “Hmm, it really is close to the pier” Isa commented, easy for her to say when the entire bus ride has been ten minutes but for you it felt like an eternity.
As you scale the stairs up to your floor and walk to your apartment, you manage to fish the keys to your apartment out of your jeans pockets and open the door.
“Well here we are,” you say, getting inside and turning the lights on, revealing the living room, a couple boxes of instant-noodles on the table, the tv is on with a random news channel. “As you can see, it's not that big but its co-”
As you turn around to look at the two girls, your mouth opens wide in shock.
In front of you is Isa, head tilted slightly to the side as her lips close the distance with Chaeyoung’s. Her hands are not left idle as they both smoothly travel across the older’s back, feeling every inch of her partner’s body.
Meanwhile Chaeyoung's eyes are wide open and her body froze, surprised by the sudden act of Isa. It's not long until she as well eases up into the kiss, gently closing her eyes and putting her hands on the younger’s hips, you can hear how tongues slowly starts getting into the mix as the two girls vocalise small hums and whimpers. Eventually the torture comes to an end as their lips part from eachother but not their hands
“That… was your plan in the…end?” Chaeyoung asks in between pants, trying to collect air to aid surprise
“Of course, and besides…” Isa answers, turning her head enough to get her eyes on you, more specifically a bit down from your eyes. “It seems like he enjoys the show”.
Look down at the visible tent that is forming inside your pants and your hand that is slowly stroking itself to the beautiful yet unholy sight in front of you, another look into their eyes and you can see the arousement both girls share at your own prize.
“Come behind her jake, she feels divine” Isa elongates the last word-just the right way to get you Following her prompt, walking toward the two girls and getting behind Chaeyoung, your hands wrap around her midriff and your lips find themselves on the back of her neck causing her to quietly gasp.
With each second that your threeway makeout session was passing you could feel your pants getting tighter and your lust growing larger, enough that in a very bold move you let your palm find Isa’s right buttcock, giving it a gentle squeeze that makes her release a soft moan and take a look at you with a slutty smirk.
“You sneaky motherfucker” she playfully said, getting one of her hands off Chaeyoung's hips and wrapping it around your length. “You're hard already” she exclaims, leaving the two of you standing in front of her, wanting more from her, and from each other.
“I cant wait any longer~” Isa breathily says, giving you two a playful wink before disappearing into your bedroom. As lust quickly takes over your body you grab Chaeyoung by the hips and pull her into a kiss, and by how Chaeyoung quickly reciprocates the kiss and doesn't pull away, you can tell she wants it too.
You don't have time to process the texture of Chaeyoung lips, or how her long, soft legs are wrapped around your waist. Your only goal is to get the two of you into the bedroom, where Isa sits on your king sized bed with hungry eyes, licking her lips in anticipation. 
You let Chaeyoung get on your bed as you quickly join the two girls while tossing your shirt off to the side of the bed letting the two girls marvel at your naked chest.
“Fuck” Chaeyoung mouthed.
“Told you he was hot” Isa adds, scooting herself in front of you to get a hold of your chest before leaning in for a quick peck on your lips. “You don't mind undressing yourself, do you? me and Chae here have a show we need to give you” No answer was needed besides a nod as you went to the edge of your bed, letting the two girls begin.
It starts with kissing, slow yet sensual with Isa taking the lead by Straddling Chaeyoung's lap while one of her hands begins to glide across Chaeyoung's curves, ending at her left breast. “Fuck unnie, the things i will do to have a body like yours”.
Chaeyoung elicits a muffled moan to the soft grope Isa gives her, eyes completely shut and her and head looking up to let the pleasure take over. Soon Isa begins moving her hands all around her body, giving every inch of skin attention until eventually she stops one hand on the hem of Chaeyoung's shirt, the other supporting her from behind.
“You don't mind letting me take it off, right?” A quick nod of approval from the older one and Isa begins to slowly pull it up, moving to the right to let you see how slowly but surely more skin is revealed until finally the shirt is completely above her head giving you a clear view of Chaeyoung's black, lacy bra.
During all of this you are hard as a rock, can't take your eyes off from the two girls in front of you, even while you attempt to zip your jeans and rid them off your legs leaving you only in your briefs. You could swear you saw Isa lick her lips at the first sights of your briefs.
“Can I take yours too?” Chaeyoung's question is needy, eyes showing every sign of want to her Partner, hands are not left idle either with both of them resting on the upper part of Isa’s midriff, slightly below her two mounds.
“Of course, Unnie” she responds, leaning her body back and relaxing herself to let the older begin a strip tease of her own, every second that passes raises the sexual tension between them to a new level.
Unlike Chaeyoung, Isa’s crop top is not as loose compared to her black shirt, revealing the younger's breasts, covered with a crimson colored undergarments of her own with nipples taut from the arousal.
“Much better” Isa sighs in relief, feeling lighter without her crop top that is now thrown somewhere to the floor as once again she looks at you with a soft gaze however her mouth is anything but, painted with a sultry smile that can only speak trouble, finally with a breathy voice she playfully asks
“You're coming, Jake?”
The way Isa says your name, it's enough to let your primal instincts take over you, every red light is now turned green as you quickly pull Isa from behind into your lap, feeling her naked skin in your palms, right hand rests on her breast while the left hand goes to her thigh, rubbing and squeezing it to your heart's content.
“Oh god, yessss” Isa hisses the last word, it was clear that she enjoys every second of this, enough so that she doesnt pull away but instead leans in, meeting you in a torrid, messy makeout session, you two don't notice how Chaeyoung has already got rid of her whole bottom, only with her bra on with fingers already inside her pussy, definitely enjoying the view.
“Don't just stand there Chae, join us” This might be the most confident thing you have said this entire evening but it sure works on her since Chaeyoung now sits in front of Isa, palms massaging her clothed thighs, giving you a free hand to grope Isa’s other breast.
Those are not the same girls you met a couple of hours ago during that blind date, any semblance of innocence and fluff was left outside the door, now replaced with Lust and it's oh so clear with how Chaeyoung's eyes get aroused with each button she pops out of Isa jeans until eventually she finds her undergarment, same color as her bra with a wet spot in the middle.
Knowing what Chaeyoung was doing, Isa takes her hands into her denim jeans, lowering both the jeans and her own panties before throwing them away, leaving her creamy, thick thighs for both of you to revel in.
With the excitement in your body. You don't notice how Isa left your grasp, crawling away with a sway of her hips from side to side, now near her Chaeyoung they both look at you with an inviting smile, now giving you a chance to see both of them in their full glory.
With a devilish smirk Isa now moves behind the older girl, her eyes looking directly at you in an attempt to lure you in. Then a click can be heard as Chaeyoung’s bra now falls onto the mattress, Isa quickly joins her as now in front of you, two naked, gorgeous ladies sit in front of you.
And finally, knowing what the last piece is missing from the puzzle, you finally grab the hem of your boxers, pulling it down to let your Hardened cock stand strong and proud.
“Told you he was big” Isa exclaims, giving a small nudge to Chaeyoung with a small giggle, her friend quickly joins her.
“Yeah…so big” she mumbles quietly, her finger inside her mouth, lightly chewing on it to hold in the excitement of seeing your size. 
However, you didn't come this far with them just to watch each other naked, and they are not either as without saying a word, the two of them playfully shove you down into the mattress and get into their positions.
It starts off with Isa finding her place on your legs once again, looking directly at you with her thighs wrapped around your cock, only the tip is exposed to the air as after a flirty wink, she starts rubbing her thigh on you.
“Oh shit, Isa…” 
You groan, the rest of your voice comes out as a moan that gets her excited, you could have witnessed the obscene act of her thigh job until the end of time, however it is quickly obstructed by Chaeyoung's ass planted on your chest, her rear side all for you to view how it moves, you are not surprised why she is a model with a body as divine as hers.
“Jake…i can feel you twitching ” Isa whines, feeling your tip slightly touch her entrance is enough to let some precum leak out of your tip with you releasing another moan.
“Hey, let me have some too” Chaeyoung interrupts, taking her thumb and brushing it over your tip and grabbing some of it as you could hear how she gives it a small lick before humming cheerfully at your taste.
“Ooo, he taste good~” how the fuck did you even think this girl was innocent again?
“Can I have some unnie?”
“Sure” as if Chaeyoung’s timing was perfect, your first shot of cums leaks out of your member as she quickly gets some on her fingers. 
“Say ahhh” Chaeyoung prompts as Isa happily obliges, letting her fingers get inside her mouth, tasting . Its down right torture how you are not allowed to see what might as well be a scene from an adult film but regardless you can only enjoy the sounds, its not like you didnt do it before.
As your libido starts growing, so does your confidence as your palms firmly hold each buttcock of Chaeyoung, feeling its texture by softly squishing it, kneading it like dough causing Chaeyoung to utter a moan while arching her body back to give you all of the signals that she is enjoying it.
“Okay, this is enough teasing, we want the real thing now” Isa exclaims, Freeing your cock from the confines of her thighs giving it a breath of fresh air as now she squats over your face, giving you a clear view of her shaven pussy. Chaeyoung meanwhile heads over to sit next to your cock, still standing, waiting for the next storm to hit.
“I assume I am still not gonna get a look aren't i?” You ask, trying to sound cocky however Isa didn't say anything as she was slowly lowering her body, obstructing your view once again. With her thighs around your body and her pussy so close to your face, you let your tongue out giving her lips the first lick, just to test the waters.
“Oh fuck, yess” You hear Isa muffled moans from pleasure, feeling her ass gyrating on your tounge, enjoying every moment as you could feel the friction of her thighs on your face.
“You should join us Chaeyoung-AH, i can see him waiting just for you~” you could feel yourself getting even harder than before by the way Isa playfully invites her friend, all the while she is overtaken by pleasure. you are excited to see how Chaeyoung goes off with you, however your thoughts are stopped with a loud groan, not expecting your cock to feel the tightness of her pussy wrapped around you.
After the first contact Chaeyoung starts slowly moving up and down, each dip takes your cock deeper inside her, you could feel how each time you were inside her fluids were coating you more and more. “Oh my god Isaaaaa-” she stops her sentence, quickly releasing a sultry, husky moan. “His f-feels so good…”.
“His tongue too unnie, he is eating me out so well” Isa adds. It's nice to hear the compliment, so much that you get the confidence to start moving at your own pace, pushing your tongue inside. Meanwhile your hands grope Isa’s ass, giving you the grip to start pushing your hips in a matching pace to chaeyoung’s downward movement, Causing the two girls to scream from pleasure, holding each other in order to not collapse on the spot.
You could only Imagine how the girl’s lewd expressions were, just from the ungodly sounds, the scent of lust and cum, and the feeling of their curves on your body you could guess the fun they were having, but it would not be over until you all finally relieved yourself.
“Are you close Jake?” Isa manages to form a question while looking down, you could only respond with a muffled ‘yes’ and a nod of approval.
“I'm close too guys, i have to cum” Chaeyoung replies, releasing another moan in between bohnces it seems like you were all in on the same train of thought as you could feel yourself getting closer to your climax, even without Isa’s Ass directly on your face your view was getting hazy from ecstacy.
“Shit girls, i am going to-” you couldn't even finish the sentence before finally releasing your cum, thank god you pulled out of Chaeyoung just in time.
Your thick load goes all over their bodies, on Chaeyoung thighs, on Isa’s midriff, some even spills on your own abs, you are also not alone as they both get their own orgasm which goes all around your body, Chaeyoung coating your cock and Isa spilling around your face and abs
It takes a while but eventually you are all drained, both girls fall into each of your side, finally giving you a chance to see the two girls laid on the mattress, their bodies painted with cum from the three of you, their faces happy and satisfied.
For a couple of minutes it's quiet, the only way you communicate is with your eyes, looking at each other not with lust but instead with a warm, peaceful gaze.
Eventually Chaeyoung finally breaks the silence. “Fuck, im not a virgin but i gotta say; that is the best sex i had in my life”
“Same for me, i don't know if i want a round 2 or to stop” Isa joins between heavy pants, her hands wrap around your body as she looks at you with the same warm smile she had back when you first saw her.
“I don't know about you two, but i need a good rest after this” you manage to say as you once again lay down on the bed, eyes looking at the ceiling with each hand goes behind the girls’s back, pulling them closee to you.
“Okay then, we will start cleaning and then join you” Isa replies, letting you close your eyes and get some rest. However not before you can hear faint sounds of slurping as you open eye and see Chaeyoung's lips wrapped around the tip of your cock, isa behind holding her hair and tying it to makeshift ponytail.
“Hmm, it seems you two wanted another” you say, smiling at the two girls.
“Hey, you're still hard and we are still horny, you complain?” Isa asks, her eyes locking into yours paired with a flirty grin and a cute wink.
Something tells you that you wont get a good rest from those two girls.
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