#just staring at this and smiling i love her so much

[bi-writes]

Is it possible for Simon's MOB request him to dress up as Ghost for Halloween? and of course she will wear whatever Simon want her to

But if you don't want to bring Ghost into MOB's universe, just skip this. We completely understand 😉

it's about time, huh?

mail-order bride (18+)

when simon comes home after a long two weeks away, he's pleasantly surprised by what waits for him. there's carved pumpkins lined up on the porch ascending up the steps, and there's candles lit inside, making them flicker. along the porch railing, there's garlands with orange lights, and there's a black feathered wreath on the door. simon smiles under his mask, even wider once he sees the cats staring at him from the window. their tails are swishing, and he waves at them before putting the key into the door and coming inside.

it smells like pine. there's candles on everywhere, making the entire living room glow a soft orange.

all the throw pillows are different. they've been changed. they are made of velvet and linen, with some of them having fall prints on them like black cats and pumpkins and autumn-colored checkers. there's pumpkin motifs and leaves everywhere, like all the colors everywhere have been changed to browns, reds, and sage greens. you poke your head out from behind the fridge, smiling as you see simon by the door, taking off his boots and jacket. he showered before coming back from work; you can tell because he's not wearing the skull balaclava, and he has regular clothes on.

"hey," you greet him softly, waving. "you're in early."

"couldn't wait," simon murmurs. "had to come see my girls."

you snort, rolling your eyes, but you shut the fridge before coming into the living room. you wrap your arms around his neck easily, tugging him close as you snatch his mask off and kiss him softly.

"i missed you, simon," you whisper between kisses, and he wraps those big arms around you tight, cradling the back of your head as he kisses you back.

"i missed ya more."

you giggle when he picks you up a little, turning you in a little circle before setting you back down. it baffles you how easily he takes your weight; barely even grunts, just smooths his hands down your thighs and picks you up with that wicked, crooked smile.

"loved wot ya did wit' the house, luv," simon adds, chuckling low. your eyes light up, and you look around, beaming at the cozy couch you've made up with the new blankets and pillows you had bought. you giggle, looking back at him, cupping his cheeks to bring him closer to you.

"the kettle's on. why don't i make you some tea? we have so much to catch up on," you coo, and simon blushes, easily, and you giggle when he tries to look away. "simon!"

he slips a hand up your skirt to stop your laughing. you gasp, your breath caught in your throat, and simon hums as he kisses along your jaw, chapped lips sucking at the skin until you're liquid in his arms.

"mmm...a cuppa sounds nice, baby," simon chuckles in your ear, and you nod, pulling away slowly. he squeezes your ass gently before letting you go, kissing under your ear before he collapses onto the couch, sinking into it. he grabs one of the thick new blankets thrown over it, and you come into the room a few minutes later with his mug of tea and a big smile on your face. "oh, ya didn't have ta do tha'...i-i meant--"

"i know what you meant, simon," you say softly, setting it down next to him. "i wanted to, okay?"

he smiles a little, nodding, and then he reaches for your hand to pull you into his lap.

"okay, hafta catch up, luv," simon sighs. "tell me wot happened while i was gone. want ta know everythin'."

you shrug, leaning back against his chest.

"did a lot of shopping," you tell him. "a lot. sorry about the bills, simon."

"don't worry about the bills," he says firmly, and you smile a little when he takes your hands and squeezes them gently. "tell me more."

"i bought mostly stuff for the house," you smile. "all the halloween stuff. i left a few pumpkins for us though. that we can do together."

"mmm. i'd like tha'."

"and i bought...some halloween costumes," you finish, looking over your shoulder at him. he raises a brow, grinning, and he tilts his head to the side.

"you wanna dress up, tha' it, luv?"

"well...i bought a lot of costumes for me," you continue. "i...i was hoping...that..."

simon nudges you a little. you swallow, squeezing his hands, and he kisses your shoulder gently.

"well...i was hoping you could put on your..." you clear your throat, "i mean...you could be...ghost...and i-i could be--"

"ya want me ta wear my mask?" simon asks, leaning in a little. he puts his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you shiver a little. "want me to be ghost...not simon...tha' it, baby?"

you can't meet his eyes. you shrink a little in his lap, and he buries his face further, sucking gently on the curve of your jaw.

"woteva ya want, swee'eart," simon mutters. "can have woteva ya want."

"simon--" you gasp, arching your back, and he wraps a strong arm around your middle and holds you against him.

"shhh--" simon quiets you. "'s olright. why don't ya wait 'ere for me, aye? sit right there, lookin' so pretty..." he wraps a big hand around your throat, holding you there, squeezing gently. "why don't ya sit there, and i'll go put somethin' on, and we can practice?"

"p-practice?"

"tha's right," simon licks his lips. "got to see if our costumes will look nice together, don't we? got to make sure we match."

"y-yeah..."

"will ya wait 'ere, swee'eart? wait right 'ere for me?"

"yes. yeah. yes, simon." you're breathless, shaking practically, and simon tucks you against the couch before grabbing his bag and heading into the bedroom. he gives you a wink before the door shuts, and you put a hand over your chest and breathe deeply as you settle there.

your husband never fails to make your head spin. he occupies your every thought; the way he loves, the manner in which he takes care of you, the insatiable look in his eyes whenever his eyes are on you. never in your life have you ever been more at the center of someone else's world. never in your life has every word that leaves your mouth been so akin to some kind of revered gospel.

everything you say matters. nothing that you do can be wrong. nothing that you feel is ever dismissed, nothing that you want is ever not given to you, everything in your life is sunshine and rainbows and fuck, he's so fucking hot--

your brain goes fuzzy when the bedroom door opens again. it's someone you don't recognize, not really.

even when you've visited him on base, he somehow still maintains himself as simon in your presence. when you look into those eyes, you always recognize them. they are soft, they are kind, they are the ones you have always known.

whoever stands in front of you isn't someone you've met yet. he's taller, somehow. maybe it's the way he stands. feet spread apart in those steel-toed boots, cargos snug around his massive legs. your eyes start low, taking in the holsters that are positively squeezing his big thighs to his waist. mmm, his solid middle. that place that never gives, that feels full and warm when you've fed him a nice meal, now he uses it as his own personal armor. he wears a windbreaker under his tact vest, but he's pushed the sleeves up to his elbow, his tattoos on display. they've never looked so right on him until now. you follow the line of his chest to his face.

his face. his second skin. you've seen this mask before, that dirty skull that he never washes properly that frames his eyes, making him sunken and dead. he's smeared eye-black on under it, and his eyes are voids. they sink, the whites barely peeking through, and as you look at him, really look at him, you don't recognize what you see.

he's so big. he's never looked bigger. he takes up the entirety of the doorway, and you shift on the couch as you take in all of him this way.

it's like seeing someone new. it's like being married to two different men. it's simon, surely, somewhere under there, but whoever you're in the presence of isn't simon.

"hmm..." you giggle nervously, standing up. he narrows his eyes a little, flexing his hands in and out of fists, and you point to the bedroom behind him. "i'm...i'm gonna go get the costumes i bought. and...and we can pick one for me."

he blinks, but he says nothing. he walks slow, past you, and you hold his eyes as he does, and he holds yours. you turn to keep eye contact as he takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide, resting his hands on his thighs. you swallow, nervous under his intense stare, and you hurry towards the bedroom to fish the costumes out of the closet.

you look at yourself in the mirror. you look frazzled. your entire body feels hot, too hot, and your palms are clammy. you wipe your face gently before going back into the living room, where ghost is waiting exactly where you left him.

it looks like he hasn't moved an inch.

you hold up a few of the hangers, showing off the outfits on them.

"o-okay, i got a few. some of them are...kind of dumb," you laugh nervously. you hold up a stupid nurse outfit. it's a short little dress that would show off your thighs and way too much cleavage, and ghost considers it for a few long moments before he shakes his head. you clear your throat, nodding. "yeah, this one was dumb."

you toss it aside, holding up another one. it's a fitted bodysuit with a matching witch's hat, and ghost shakes his head at this one as well. you toss it aside to show him the next. he turns down every single one. little red riding hood. alice in wonderland. even the cute little corset angel dress that you really thought would work.

you play with your fingers nervously, looking at the costumes that you've tossed over a chair. you frown a little, curling your toes, the picture of quietly frustrated as you think about what to say next. ghost sits there, unbothered, staring at you as if he's waiting for something. he blinks slow.

"i-i don't understand what you want," you whisper. "i...i thought you'd like at least one of them, i mean..." you run a hand over your face, shrugging. "what do you want me to wear, nothing? i--"

ghost tilts his head to the side, making your breath catch in your throat.

what do you want me to wear, nothing?

your lips part, and you take a few deep breaths. nothing. he wants you to wear nothing. simon--well, simon would say differently. simon would tell you to wear whatever you wanted. he'd tell you that you would look beautiful in every single one, and you think maybe he'd ask you to wear the nurse outfit just to be cheeky.

not ghost. ghost doesn't like the theatrics. ghost doesn't care for the game. he doesn't chase, everything he wants comes to him, or he makes it come to him. everything he desires ends up between his teeth, and that includes the woman that's wearing his fucking ring standing in front of him.

you take a timid step forward. he narrows his eyes under the mask, watching curiously, and when you make your way between his legs, he stares up at you, right into your eyes. you smile.

"you might be a ghost, but you're still my husband," you say softly. "so will you do the honors for me?"

ghost hums lowly. he reaches for you, gripping the base of your shirt, and he lifts it over your head with ease. he tugs your shorts down along with your panties as you unclasp your bra, and finally you see the flicker of something in those eyes when your tits fall in his line of sight.

there's a man under it all, as much as he would like to pretend like there isn't.

you lean over, putting your hands on either side of him on the back of the couch before straddling him. he grunts as you sit down, his hands finding your waist, and you lean forward enough to press your forehead to his.

ghost, like your simon, is insatiable. as soon as he has you this close, his hands are wandering. gloved hands slide up your slides and cup your tits, thumbs smoothing over your nipples until they're puckered and hard. once he's satisfied that you're shuddering enough, his hands fall to your thighs, spreading them apart even more before he grips both sides of your ass and squeezes, spreading them apart. the tease of his thumb over your ass makes your brain restart, and if he wasn't wearing the mask, you have a feeling you'd seek a sickening grin come over his face.

your mouth falls open, short breaths leaving you, and your eyes flutter closed when his hand slips between your thighs and cups you, big palm swallowing your folds as he puts two fingers to your clit and makes a nasty squelch as he moves them in firm circles.

"olready so wet..."

you squeak with surprise when he flips you over. your back slams against his chest, and it arches away from him as he plants your heels on either side of his thighs and wraps an arm around your middle to hold you against him.

"oh--ha--"

you reach back and grip the back of his neck for support as he puts his hand back where it belongs. two gloved fingers move in achingly slow circles through your folds, but like a teasing shit, he only skims your clit every so often. he leans in, humming against your ear, and he smacks his lips under the mask as he watches from over your shoulder.

"is it time?" he rasps against your cheek. "mmm...y'r husband neglects ya, huh?"

"w-what? no..."

"'s olright," ghost huffs. "i know. even pretty girls need to get fucked, tha's the truth, innit?"

"nnghh--"

"even sweet, pretty girls deserve a firm hand. don't hafta be so gentle...ya don't want gentle, aye? not wot ya need."

"just need you," you whine, and he paws at your tits hard as he sinks two fingers into you, right down to the last knuckle. you cry with relief, bucking your hips up against his hand, and he shushes you, shaking his head. ghost is simon's nasty alter ego, and you just want more and more and more of it.

"relax," he chuckles. fuck, he's so smug, it's infuriating and appealing all the same. "just need ta get ya nice and soft...need ya to open up fer me. won't be easy, takin' me."

like always with your husband, the one thing that is easy is not thinking at all. you sink, relaxing into his grip until there is no resistance from you. you don't have to have any thoughts when it comes to him. you can just be in the moment. you can float on this plane of nonexistence, this place that is just for you where you can just be and enjoy and think of nothing but how good you feel at this exact moment. he's got such big fingers--they curl, petting your insides, coaxing you to make all sorts of soft, pretty noises that just make him more desperate. he's hard against your ass; he chubbed up as soon as you sat in his lap, but now it's an unmistakable feeling.

he is everything you have ever wanted. he is more than you deserve. for your entire life, nothing has ever felt more precious. nothing has ever been more special. no one in the entire world has ever been so pervasive and demanding and thoughtful and wonderful, and you love him so much, you think you might die if you don't have him--

"i know," his voice brings you back. you're crying, tears wetting your face. you're shivering, holding onto him, babbling nonsense that sounds a lot like i love you and please and more. "i know, baby--it's so good, innit? feels so good, look at ya...look at ya, 's oll mine, 's mine, everythin' tha' y'are is mine."

everything you are is mine. skin, bone, and all.

"i'm gonna--no!" you seize when his fingers leave you. you miss them, turning around in his lap, cupping his cheeks, shaking your head, desperate desperate desperate. "don't take it from me, don't--!"

he hums. deep within his chest, something you feel trickling up his throat as your hands slide down his neck. you paw at the tactical vest, pulling on the straps, but ghost is something you cannot move. he's rigid, solid. nothing about him gives. even hard, pressed up against your cunt, he loses no control.

"gonna be good?" he asks. "hmm? gonna be good, and let me take care o' this, aye? can't 'ave ya coming on my fingers, swee'eart. first time ya come tonight, 's gonna be on my cock, y'hear tha'? say you hear me."

"i hear you--"

"tha's good, good, i like tha', like when ya do wot i ask. 's easy, innit? easy ta do wot i tell ya."

you can see those eyes. you're in love with those eyes. it doesn't matter how much he paints around them or how many layers he covers his face with, you will never forget them. you will know them when you close your eyes for the last time, and you will know them when you are born again, and you will spend eternity looking for them until you find the ones you know belong to you.

simon will wear a million faces, and you will know each and every one of them, just like you know this one, even the one you can't see.

simon makes other men so inferior. ghost makes them infinitely obsolete.

"so pretty, i've got such a pretty wife," ghost mutters. "did good, didn't i? gettin' myself such a nice girl. a messy girl." you're drooling as he lifts his hips, undoing his jeans with one wet, gloved hand. the zipper comes down, and your eyes fall as you watch him shove the denim just below his balls. "fuck--so full, baby, huh? won't last if y'keep lookin' at me tha' way, close y'r mouth."

you giggle a little. it escapes you without you even thinking, and when ghost tilts his head to the side, you're caught in it. he's about to fuck you for the very first time. he's about to eat, like he's never eaten before. you're about to lose your fucking mind, that's for certain, and nothing about it scares you.

simon might not be here right now, but ghost still knows what you are to him. he's going to take care of you. he loves you.

you cradle his head when he turns you in his lap. you clutch onto the back of his mask, lowering yourself in his arms as you press your lips to his over the mask. your shuddering breaths make him groan, and he hisses when you use one hand to slip his cock between your thighs, rocking your hips to coat him in slick. the bulbous head catches between your ass, and you lick over his jaw as you draw your hips back, meeting his eyes again.

you never want to know another man. even if they take him from you, even if someone manages to put a bullet in him, you'll never be with anyone else. this is it, the end all be all.

"not supposed t'think," ghost tells you. "y'r too pretty t'think."

your lashes flutter, and he grins under the mask.

"just the tip?" he teases. you press your forehead to his, shaking a little, and you nod your head. you take it nice and slow. he hitches you high up on his lap, on your knees, and you're a whimpering mess when he pushes the fat tip inside of you. you rock your hips, feeding yourself more, and ghost leans his head back when he feels you squeezing and squeezing and squeezing as you take just a little more of him, little by little. "don't need ta work ya open when y'r cunt's beggin' for it, innit?"

you squeeze his broad shoulders, leaning all your weight on him as you sit down on his cock. both of you groan, finally one, and you push his mask up to seal a kiss as you feel him throbbing as he touches deep.

"i love you so much," you whisper between kisses, "but i've been waiting t-too long for this."

"don't worry," ghost mutters. "there'll be time f'nice 'n sweet later. i know wot y'need."

and fuck, he certainly does.

ghost has you propped up underneath him when he fucks you for the first time. he shoved a few pillows under your hips, and the angle has your eyes in the back of your head as he indulges himself. when he puts a gloved hand low on your tummy and presses, you see it--fuck, it's good.

he's hitting that spot again and again now. the groans that slip out, the ones he can't control, have you squeezing his cock every time he meets your hips, and he has to grab onto your thighs to keep you from shaking yourself too hard. his balls are heavy, fat, smacking against your ass with a wet sound that's making it hard to focus. you go in and out, and every time that skull mask comes into your vision again, you feel a new wave of shudders make it's way down your spine, curling your toes.

"tha's it, love--" ghost praises. "ughh, knew ya'd be so good f'me. knew ya'd take it like this. open up--yeah, yeah--fuck--" he spits into his glove, nasty, and when he thumbs at your clit, you mewl. your back nearly lifts off the couch and the pillows you rest on, but ghost just cackles, pressing you back down, his palm a nice weight on your tummy as he pushes down again just right and-- "oh--fuck--there it is..."

your orgasm is unlike any other you've ever had. for a split second, the world is nothing but stars. your vision hazes, white spots dancing, and when you blink back to consciousness, ghost has slowed his hips, his hands gripping your hips as he watches the mess between your legs quickly wet his cargos. he hums low, eyes wild, and he keeps fucking up into you suddenly, a bit quicker, renewed vigor.

"want anotha one," ghost hisses, and you babble as you try and tell him i-i can't, never been able to--but he's still going, still running his big thumb in nice circles, and when he draws your legs up and over his shoulders and leans his weight on you, you cry with relief when something softer but just as lovely hits you head-on. ghost gets down onto his elbows, faltering, and when you feel his cum spurt, you shake at how good it feels to be surrounded by your husband, inside and out, the start of him and end of you blurred between tangled limbs and shared breaths and the wedding band you can feel him wearing underneath his gloved hand as he intertwines your fingers and squeezes.

your body is liquid. it seeps back into the couch, melding to the cushions underneath you, and you smile up at your husband as he smooths his hands over your face and chuckles low and breathless.

"y'r so beautiful," he murmurs, and you tell him the same, because it's true. you touch your nose to his, breathing him in, and when you laugh, he asks you what it is.

"i just..." you laugh again. "hmm...why did we wait so long?"

you laugh together, soft and quiet, and when you kiss him, he's gentle. he sits up enough to throw his gear off, the tact vest falling to the floor, and you toss his mask behind you so you can scratch at his short hair and kiss his cheeks.

"so..." you bite your lip, and he gives you all his attention.

"wot is it, baby?"

"you...wanna go again?"

[somnoir]

Little star's favorite

It all started when Talia came to Gotham with a gift.

The gift in question was a twelve year old boy.

Bruce stared at the boy who was almost the exact replica of Damian if not for the blue eyes and longer hair. He looked utterly perplexed at the sight of Bruce, tilting his head before frowning at his mother with a visibly displeased look.

"Beloved, may I introduce you to Danyal, our Damian's twin brother. He was... Away... On a mission until recently." Talia hummed, a hand on Danyal's back.

"You... You didn't think to tell me about him when you told me about Damian?" Shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked down at the boy who looked a little more like him than Talia and felt himself softening. "Hello Danyal."

"Hello."

Talia smiled, before her expression fell. "A little warning, beloved. The twins do not get along. Damian is quite the competitive child and Danyal... Well, he's the nicer one if I must say." She shrugged, running her fingers through her son's hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Go on now, Najmi As-Sagheer (my little star)."

"Ummi... Must I join them? I am perfectly fine with remaining in the league." Danyal muttered, eye twitching but his expression was quickly schooled into neutrality.

"Yes, Danyal." She sighed, "I have no intention of letting father keep you."

Bruce raised a brow at her words.

"That is a conversation for another time, habibi." Talia lazily insisted, gently pushing Danyal towards Bruce.

Bruce, for all he's lived, immediately recognized a feral cat in the form a child. Yep. Another Damian. That was seemingly the nicer one.

But he was scruffy little thing who was being called little star by his mother. Bruce blinked, offering his hand to Danyal (like how a person would do by letting a cat sniff his hand to see if they were safe).

Danyal, more twitchy and annoyed than his brother, looked at the hand like it had personally offended him.

And that is how Batman brought home another child while holding him by the scruff.

(Danny hated everyone except for Alfred—both cat and butler)

Danyal was a much quieter person compared to Damian. Unlike his brother who had practically came into their lives guns blazing and declaring that he was the rightful heir to the bat, Danyal mainly ignored them. He would glare, snarl, and scowl, but not in the way Damian did. The kid was obviously threatened by them, but more for his own safety rather than inheritance.

He avoided them like the plague, only welcoming the company of Alfred and occasionally Cass.

He didn't join in on the vigilante business, opting to stay back with Oracle and just quietly direct them on their missions. It was strange in all honesty.

They didn't know much about Danyal, aside from the fact that his mother called him little star for his natural love of space. That he liked to tinker with gadgets and make his own weapons. That he really liked fudge.

Aside from that, the kid was quiet and was usually hiding out in his room.

Tim wasn't particularly thrilled to have another demon brat in the family. He avoided Danyal as much as possible expecting for the boy to be just like his brother and attack him.

But apparently not.

It's one of those unfortunate times that Tim's sleep deprivation and overload on energy drinks gets him benched by Alfred and not Bruce. No one particularly wanted to argue with their beloved butler/grandpa so Tim was stuck in place. It was a much quieter night than usual, almost peaceful (as much as Gotham can get).

Babs was relieved of her duties to have a night off, rest and relax and such, while Tim manned the bat computer in Oracle's place. He almost didn't notice the mop of black hair that suddenly appeared beside him.

Tim didn't want to admit it, but he flinched at Danyal's presence and how he was quietly standing there with a tray of coffee and cookies. Blue eyes blinked at him, silently pushing the tray forward to offer Tim the lone cup (most likely for him) and the plate of cookies.

Suspicious, Tim narrowed his eyes. "Alfred wouldn't make me coffee after benching me for this kind of thing."

Danyal shrugged, "Made it myself. Thought you'd need it since the others will be gone for a while."

"That's poisoned."

"It's not." Danyal frowned, immediately taking the cup and taking a couple sips himself before once again offering it to Tim.

Now, Tim wasn't stupid enough to ignore the possibility of Danyal having some tolerance to poison. But Tim was also tolerant to a lot of poisons so might as well.

When taking one sip, he was already feeling weird. One, there was no poison. Two, it was actually pretty good.

Danyal just sat there and stared at the screen, munching on cookies and pointing at the screen whenever Robin started to stray from the patrol route. Tim had a lot of fun reportingtattling to Bruce about it.

Eventually, it became a routine.

Danyal always sat beside Tim. Quiet and just offering random stuff, either food, some little gadget he made, or just the most bizarre stuff he found while at school.

Tim learned many things about his weird little brother. How cameras go crazy around him. How he had his reasons for not being touched. How Danyal was more silent than Cass. How Danyal vanished and reappeared at times.

(The glowing green eyes were the most concerning.)

He never really took notice of how Danyal started to gravitate to him. Always with him, barely without.

(Tim refused to admit that he was just the same.)

"Can I go on patrol with you?" Danyal asked, tugging at his Red Robin suit with a curious look. "I wanna meet Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn."

And Tim didn't really see much of a problem with that. Danyal was a highly trained assassin that Ra's apparently trusted to go on a solo mission while Damian had to be whisked away from the league. It wasn't too absurd for Tim to just shrug and let his kid brother tag along.

He was also very sure that his baby brother was an eldritch being with how the shadows seemed to rise around him. Yeah, the baby was a cryptid amongst a family of supposed cryptids. Very fitting.

It's a nice night. With Danny running amok with Tim, clearly having fun. But that one looks of sadness didn't escape Tim when Danny paused and looked to the sky with longing.

Tim remembers how Danny rambled about the stars in their shared moments, where it's just them.

Tim remembers how Danny would describe the sky in Nanda Parbar and how he often snuck out just to see it.

Tim remembers how much his little brother likes space and turns to the cloudy sky of Gotham that hides the stars.

Tim remembers how he was often depraved of the brotherly love he wanted. How he didn't get the full experience of having an older brother.

"You okay, little star?"

Danyal snapped his head towards Tim, eyes blown wide and flashing green (he knows that wasn't normal but he ignores that in favor to the way Danyal visibly softens at the nickname).

"'m okay, akhi." Danyal muttered, following after Tim after adjusting his own hood.

And it's like his heart stops.

Yep.

Tim has had Danyal for barely a year and he was willing to throw hands with Ra's, Talia, and Bruce for him.

"C'mon, qalbi(my heart). Batburger's still open."

He barely noticed the shift after that. But others think it's a glaring change that often made them stop and stare.

Danyal went to Tim whenever he needed anything.

If Danyal wasn't in bed, you'd find him snuggled up to Tim.

Danyal hated it when people touched him... Except for Tim.

Danyal liked Tim the most.

The day Dick thought it was a good idea to call Danyal 'Danny' (a nickname that was only used by Tim and Alfred), he almost got stabbed. Well, that's where all the stabbiness went to.

Safe to say, Tim was Danny's favorite.

And Danny was Tim's.

"Drake! What have you done to my brother?!" Damian pointed a katana at Tim, who lazily glanced his way before turning back to Danny who was comfortably snuggled up to him and watching Blue while Tim scrolled on Tiktok.

"I haven't done anything to Danny, demon brat. Now shoo!" Tim's irritation could be heard from a mile away, shamelessly shooing Damian away with a flick of his wrist. Then the next second, he was combing his fingers through Danny's hair and listening to his younger brother make a purring noise.

(Another point of investigation because that is not fucking normal, Tim. Cute though!)

"I refuse to believe that Danyal would prefer you over me!"

"You're just salty that he stabs you like you stab me." Tim waved him off again, watching as Danny yawned and continued to ignore everyone else.

The click of a camera immediately alerts him and he's tugging Danny down before the much younger boy lunges at Dick.

"Woah! What's up with him?" Dick nervously asked, instinctively raising his phone above his head.

"Delete that!" Tim snarled, pulling Danny closer and guiding his brothers face to his shoulder. "You know he hates it when people take pictures without consent!"

(Tim doesn't tell them that something goes every wrong with the footage if Danny was ever in the picture.)

"Dick." Tim warned, effortlessly picking up Danny, because yes, his seemingly cryptid baby brother could become weightless, and snatched Dick's phone. Yep. Instead of Danny, there was a very strange figure, a glitching silhouette of black and green. He deletes it immediately.

Dick was pouring, "I don't have any pics of Danny—"

"Don't call me that, Richard." Danny scowled, clinging to Tim like a koala. He was strangely more child-like than Damian, muttering about annoying people who interrupted bonding time. (Dick was just forced to pout.)

"Danyal." Damian crossed his arms, scowling at Danny who was still comfortably cuddled up to Tim. "It is not appropriate to cling to Drake in such a way! You will embarrass our mother and father if you are seen acting like a petulant child!"

Tim wanted to argue that no, he wouldn't embarrass Talia and Bruce by being a kid, but Danny just grabbed a cookie from nowhere (note to self, add possible teleportation powers to cryptid baby) and shoved it into his mouth.

Danny just yawned, fixing Damian with a lazy glare.

"Tuhali, can you shut up?"

Damian stood stock still, while Jason and Bruce choked on their own spit. Jason slapping a hand over his mouth and Bruce just staring at his twins like the apocalypse was about to return.

"What did you just call me?"

Danny yawne again, "My spleen."

Tim knew what Tuhali meant. Of course he fucking knew Arabic! But to think that his cryptid baby brother was straight up calling Damian his spleen?

The spleen that Tim doesn't have.

The spleen that's important to the immune system but you can survive without it?

Tim grinned, grabbing his cryptid baby and made a run for it.

Yep.

Danny was definitely his favorite.

Credits to: @strangergraphics for the dividers used.

[prael]

Day 5: Comfort

Newjeans Hanni x male reader smut

words: 9,650 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

Spotting a face in a crowd is like watching lightning. There's a moment that captivates you and then it disappears. You're not even sure where to look for it. It happens in an instant, but when that instant is over, you're not sure if it ever really happened at all.

That is life with Hanni.

She might well be sitting here now, on your couch, with her knees pressed against her chest and a mug of hot cocoa in her hands, but in another moment she will be gone and you will be alone again. The warmth of her body will linger on the cushions beside you. You will press your hand into it, but it will fade. And then there will only be her image in your mind and the memory of her voice.

She is always so busy, and you are always waiting.

"I need a break," she says, and this time, her voice is not in the past, but in the present.

You blink, pulled from your thoughts, and look up at her. She's watching you, her dark eyes soft. She's smiling. You don't know how long you've been staring into space. "Sorry," you say, "what?"

Hanni laughs softly, reaching out and taking your hand. Her skin is soft, unblemished, and her nails manicured. Her fingers are slim and dainty, but there's a surprising strength in them. "I said I need a break," she says, and then she squeezes your hand. "So let's go somewhere."

You don't have to think about it. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," Hanni says, and her smile grows wider. "Anywhere."

Anywhere.

-

The thing about the coast, the beach, the sea, is that it really goes well with sunshine and especially poorly with the winter. There is something about the ocean and the beach in the winter that is a bit depressing, and yet at the same time, that makes it feel more comfortable, more like you can imagine it as your own. You can walk on the beach without the crowds of summer. The waves are high, the water is cold, the sand is wet and hard, and the wind is sharp and biting, but there's a sense of adventure to it.

"It just doesn't seem to end," Hanni is explaining as you walk side-by-side, wrapped in padded coats and gloves, with thick hats and boots, "It just never seems to stop. It just keeps going. It's the same thing every single day. I wake up. I go to work. I do what I'm supposed to do. I go home. I sleep. I do it again the next day."

You nod, though you can't even pretend to understand it.

"Do you want to know what the worst part is?" she asks.

You nod again. "Of course," you say.

"The worst part is that I'm not even unhappy," Hanni says, looking at you with a smile that bears mixed emotions, "I love it. I just want something more."

"I think that's normal," you say. "It's like how when you finish a book, or a movie, or a TV series, you're sad that it's over, but you're happy that you finished it, and then you start thinking about what to watch next, or what to read next. It's like that."

You wonder if that makes sense.

Hanni nods slowly, and thoughtfully, as though she's taking the time to consider your words. "Yeah," she agrees, and then she laughs, "but sometimes I don't know if I want to finish the book. Sometimes I just want to skip to the end, so I can see what happens, you know?"

You don't. Maybe it's because life is much simpler outside of the spotlight. You don't have to wonder what happens next. What happens next is the same as what always happens. Work. Salary. Bills. Responsibility. It's the same thing, over and over again.

Actually, the only days you get to break the mould, are the days that Hanni is there with you. That is what happens next.

You don't tell her that. You don't think she would be all that impressed with your answer, given what she had said. So you don't say anything at all.

-

Vacationing in temperatures nearing freezing is hard, and the later it gets, the harder it becomes. Yet, the sky is so clear that the stars shine like a million little diamonds, and the moon hangs low and fat in the sky, casting a pale silver light over everything. In that, there's unmatched beauty. On this rooftop cafe, you can almost see the universe in full.

It took a little convincing for the owner downstairs to even open the roof. He called you a few variations of insane for not wanting to cosy up inside the warmth of the cafe. But you, and Hanni, are nothing if not determined. So here you are, on the roof, on the balcony, looking at the sky, at the stars, and the moon. It's a beautiful night, and there's no better place to be on earth.

"I like this," Hanni says, leaning into your side. "You're always good at coming up with ideas."

"I don't know if this is really an idea," you say with a laugh. "It's just sitting on a roof."

"Yeah, but that's the best part. It's just sitting on a roof." Hanni looks at you, her dark eyes glittering in the moonlight. "It's not fancy. It's not expensive. It's just us, on a roof."

"Okay, that's a fair point," you say, and then you laugh again.

You look out over the city, at the twinkling lights, at the stars, at the moon. You take a deep breath of cool air and let it fill your lungs.

"Hey," Hanni says, "I have a question."

You glance back at her. "Shoot."

"Why are we friends?" she asks.

"Wow, deep question," you joke, trying to lighten the mood, but Hanni doesn't laugh. "Um," you say, "Well, I mean, we grew up together, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but we're not kids anymore," she says. "We're adults now. We have lives. Jobs. Responsibilities. I'm an idol and I disappear for months on end. And when I come back, I always just drop in on you and expect you to be there for me, and you are. Every time. Why is that?"

"I don't know," you admit. "I guess I just... I just like you. I always have."

"You don't get sick of me?"

You shrug. "Sometimes, when you do that thing where you hum real loud, I want to strangle you."

It brings about a shared laugh. That right there; if you capture that moment and bottle it, you would present it to her as the reason. Because no matter how long she's gone, and no matter what happens, when she's here and you are laughing together, it feels like home. You don't need to be anywhere or do anything in particular. It's enough just to be.

Hanni shuffles closer, leaning further into your side. "You're my best friend, you know that?"

You nod, your heart swelling. "Yeah," you say, your voice quiet, "I know."

-

You've always been a sucker for romance, but you also recognise that the real world doesn't work that way. Romance is the domain of fiction, of books, of movies, of the stage, of the screen. In the real world, things are messy and complicated and sometimes they don't work out. And that's okay. It's not a tragedy. It's not the end of the world. It's just the way things are.

It's why you can spend time with a girl who's beautiful and talented and smart and funny, without getting caught up in the fantasy that she's going to fall in love with you and sweep you off your feet and carry you into the sunset, or whatever. You've seen enough romantic comedies to know how those stories go, and you know how they end. In the real world, the best you can hope for is friendship, and even that is something to be grateful for. Especially when it's Hanni.

"Which book is that?" Hanni asks as she steps out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and followed by a plume of steam. Her hair hangs wet and heavy around her shoulders, dripping onto the floor. The hotel room is nice, but it's nothing too fancy. You're sure Hanni is used to better.

You look at her for a moment, then close the book in your lap. It's in these pages, that those romance stories play out, or so you tell yourself. "It's nothing," you say. "Just some trashy novel."

She sits on the edge of the bed, her eyes on you. "Is it any good?" she asks. You're not sure if she's interested or just making conversation, but you answer anyway.

"I mean, it's not great literature or anything," you say, "but it's entertaining enough."

"I wouldn't have taken you for the type of person to read romance. I remember you being obsessed with... um... Who was that one author? Michael Connely? It was all detectives and crime."

"Guilty pleasure, I guess."

"What's it about?" Hanni asks. "The book."

You glance down at the cover, which shows a young woman in a flowing dress standing on a cliff, overlooking the sea. The title is in a fancy script, and the author's name is printed beneath it. You shrug. "It's about a girl who's an artist, and she meets this guy, and they have this whirlwind romance."

"And then they get married and have kids and live happily ever after?"

You laugh softly. "No, not quite," you say. "They have a lot of sex, but then they fight all the time and it's messy and dramatic."

"Then what?"

"I don't know, I haven't finished it yet."

"I bet they get back together," she says. "That's always how these things end, right? They have a big fight and then they get back together and it's all sunshine and rainbows."

"I don't know," you say. "Maybe. Probably. It's fiction."

Hanni laughs, shaking her head. "You're so cynical."

"I'm not cynical," you protest. "I'm just realistic."

"Right, right, of course." She stands, moving to the bag of clothes at the foot of the bed, and begins to rummage through it. She pulls out a pair of shorts and a top. "I'm going to get dressed," she says, and then she disappears into the bathroom again, closing the door behind her.

When she emerges, she's wearing a pair of tight black shorts that hug her hips and a white tank top that clings to her curves. Her hair is still damp, and it falls around her shoulders in dark waves. She looks good, and you can't help but admire her. She's beautiful.

You can tell she's aware of the attention, but she ignores it, instead flopping onto the bed beside you and letting out a sigh. "What are we going to do tomorrow?" she asks.

"I was thinking we could just drive up the coast," you suggest. "Maybe stop off in some of the little towns along the way, and see if there's anything interesting."

"Sounds good," she says, and then she rolls onto her side, her head propped up on her hand, looking at you. "You know, you're the first person I thought of when I said I needed a break."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't know why, but I just knew that if I could get away with anyone, it would be you."

"Thanks," you say. You're not sure how to respond to that, but it makes you feel warm inside. "I'm glad I could help."

-

The small towns are wholly uninteresting, but Hanni seems to find something to enjoy in every one of them. There is something about seeing the world through her eyes that makes even the most mundane things seem magical. A little store selling handmade trinkets and cheap souvenirs becomes a treasure trove of hidden gems. An old man playing guitar in the park becomes a musician worth listening to. An old, crumbling building becomes a palace of mystery and intrigue. The world comes alive when Hanni is around, and you can't help but be swept up in it.

You're on the last leg now, and you agreed to drive her home. It's late in the afternoon, the sun is low in the sky, and the horizon is a watercolour painting of pinks, oranges, and purples. It's a beautiful sight, and it makes you think of the painting that Hanni bought earlier. You're not sure what she saw in it, but she seemed to love it, and that's all that matters. She's asleep beside you, her head resting against the window, her breathing slow and steady. She's exhausted, and you don't blame her. She's been going non-stop for the past few days, and you're glad that she finally has a chance to rest.

You pull up outside her place and gently shake her awake. She stirs and blinks up at you, her eyes still heavy with sleep, and she smiles. "Hey," she murmurs, and her voice is soft and husky.

"Hey," you say. "We're here. You're home."

Hanni sits up, rubbing her eyes and stretching. "Already?" she asks. "I didn't mean to sleep the whole way."

"It's okay," you assure her. "Part of taking a break is getting some rest."

She nods, but she doesn't look happy. "I know, but I feel like I missed out on something." She looks at you. "Thank you for driving me home. I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass."

"It's okay," you assure her. "You're always a pain in the ass. I'm used to it by now."

She laughs, but there's a tinge of sadness to it. "Yeah," she says, and then she glances away. Her voice is soft and hesitant. "Are you going to come inside?"

"I can help you with your bag."

"I was thinking more than just that." Her eyes meet yours. "Stay for a bit. I don't want to say goodbye just yet."

"I don't want to intrude," you tell her, knowing that there are four other girls in her place and it's their place as much as it is Hanni's. "Besides, it's getting late."

She reaches over and takes your hand, holding it tightly. "Please."

"Okay," you say, and you can't help but smile at her. "I'll stay for a bit."

It's the first time you've seen the inside of this place, but it's a lot nicer than your little apartment. It's spacious and modern, with a large kitchen and a living room that opens onto a balcony with a view of the city. It's the sort of place you would never be able to afford, but Hanni seems to fit in here perfectly.

There's a girl sprawled out on the couch, eyes closed, earbuds in her ears. You recognize her, from posters and interviews and magazine covers, and music videos. Her name is Minji, and she's got long, dark hair that falls in waves down her back. She's tall and pretty, with a slim build and a face that's both elegant and expressive. She looks like a model, but she's also an idol, a singer, and a dancer. It's a little intimidating.

"Better not wake her," Hanni says. "She gets cranky when she's tired."

You nod. "Right."

"Come on, let's go to my room. We can talk there."

You follow her down a hallway and into a bedroom that's big and bright, with a view of the city. It's tastefully decorated, with a bed that's bigger than yours, a dresser that's bigger than yours, and a desk that's bigger than yours. Everything is bigger here, and you can't help but feel a little out of place.

"I like it in here," you say. "It's nice."

"Thanks," she says, dropping a bag in the corner and you follow her by placing the two you were carrying.

There's a faint sound coming through the wall. Music that you can't quite make out, but it sounds upbeat and peppy. You can hear the bass thumping, and the occasional high-pitched voice singing along.

"That's Dani," Hanni says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "She's always playing music. It drives Minji nuts."

You laugh, leaning against the dresser. "It's kind of cute."

"Yeah, it is. She's a sweetheart." Hanni leans back on her hands, looking at you. "I can't believe this is the first time you've seen where I live."

"It's a nice place," you say. "I'm sure you're comfortable here."

"It's not bad." She shrugs. "It's not really mine, though. I mean, it is, but it's also not. You know what I mean?"

You don't, but you nod anyway.

Hanni sighs, running a hand through her hair. "You should visit more," Hanni says while taking off her jacket, reducing her clothing back down to just that tight white tank top now that she's back in the warmth of her room.

You can't help but look at her, admiring the way her body moves, the way her skin glows in the light. You can't help but want to touch her, to feel her warmth. "I don't know," you say. "I would be kind of out of place."

"You wouldn't be," she says, and her voice is firm. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," you say, and it's true. You miss her all the time, even when she's right here in front of you. You miss her smile, her laugh, her scent.

She looks up at you, her eyes wide and searching. "Do you think about me when I'm gone?" she asks.

"Of course," you say, and you can't help but smile. "All the time."

She smiles, and it's like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Good." She stands, walking over to you, and you can smell her shampoo, her perfume, her skin. She reaches out, touching your face, running her fingers over your cheek. "I'm glad," she whispers, and then she leans in and presses her lips to yours.

It's a gentle kiss, soft and sweet, and it lingers for a moment before she pulls away. You're frozen in this moment, unable to think, unable to speak, unable to breathe. You're not sure what just happened, or why it happened, or what it means, or what you should do next.

"I'm sorry," she says, stepping back. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay," you say, and it is. It truly is. You don't know why, but it is. You want to kiss her again, to hold her close, to feel her warmth.

"I just... I don't know," she says. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and I just... I don't know."

"It's okay," you say again, and you reach out and take her hand, holding it tight. You look into her eyes. "I'm glad you did."

She looks up at you, and her eyes are wide and searching. "Really?"

"Really." You squeeze her hand. "I'm glad."

"Good," she whispers, and then she leans in again and kisses you. This time, you kiss her back. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her close, holding her tight. You can feel her heart beating against your chest, and it's a steady, reassuring rhythm. She tastes of strawberry lip gloss and you can't get enough of it.

You've known Hanni for years, and you've been friends for years, and you've been best friends for years. But it's never been like this. It's never been this close, this intimate, this real. You've never been able to touch her like this, to kiss her like this, to hold her like this. And it feels amazing.

You're not sure how long you stand there, kissing, holding each other, but eventually you break apart and look at each other, smiling.

"What are we doing?" she asks, her voice low and husky.

"I don't know," you admit. "But I like it."

"Me too." She smiles, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Can I tell you something? It's been on my mind for two days now."

You nod, and she takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I've been thinking about you a lot lately," she says. "A lot. I mean, I've always thought about you, but now it's different. Now it's like I can't stop thinking about you. Well, I can, but not for long."

She's stumbling over her words, and you can't help but find it cute. You reach up and brush a strand of hair out of her face, and she smiles at you.

"I don't know what it means," she says. "I'm not sure if I want it to mean anything. I'm not sure if I'm ready for it to mean anything. I'm not sure if I'm even ready to think about what it might mean." She laughs, and it's a nervous laugh, and you can tell she's struggling to find the right words. "I guess I'm just saying that I'm not sure what I want, but I know that I want to be with you. And I'm not sure if that makes any sense, but it's how I feel."

"It makes perfect sense," you say, and you mean it. You know exactly what she means. You've felt the same way.

"I'm scared," she says. "This feeling is new. It's exciting. But it's scary, too. I'm not sure what to do. I don't want to ruin our friendship. But at the same time, I want more. I want to be with you. And I don't know how to do that."

"It's okay," you tell her. "We'll figure it out together."

She smiles, and it's a shy smile, but it's genuine. "So you're not going to run away?" she asks.

"No," you say. "No, I'm not."

"Good," she says. "Because I don't think I could handle that."

You laugh, and she laughs with you, and it's the most natural thing in the world. You can feel the tension between you start to ease, and you relax into each other, holding each other close. You kiss her again, and this time it's a little less hesitant, a little less unsure. You kiss her, and you let yourself fall into her, and you let yourself forget about everything else, and you let yourself just enjoy the moment. You kiss her, and you feel her arms wrap around you, and you feel her body press against yours, and you feel her warmth, and her softness, and her strength. You kiss her, and you feel your heart race, and you feel your blood rush, and you feel your skin flush, and you feel your head spin.

And when you finally break away, breathless and dizzy, she's looking at you with a mixture of wonder and desire and something else that you can't quite put your finger on. But it's a good look. It's a look that makes you feel happy, and excited, and scared, and alive.

"So what now?" you ask.

"I don't know," she says. "I've never done this before."

"Neither have I," you admit.

"Well, uh..." she trails off, looking away. "I guess we can just keep doing what we're doing, but like, over there." She points to her bed, and you can't help but chuckle.

"I like that idea," you say, before pulling off your jacket.

"Woah, what are you—?"

"It's just my jacket, I'm not..."

You both laugh and Hanni does that thing where she covers her face with her palms and shakes her head.

"Okay, I'm an idiot," she says, before throwing herself backwards onto her bed.

You approach her, but you're still nervous. You place a knee on the bed, move closer to her, and lean over her. She looks up at you, and her eyes are wide and bright, and full of emotion. You lean down and kiss her, and this time, there's no hesitation, no fear, no doubt. This time, it's a kiss of passion.

You sink into her as the kiss deepens, and you feel her hands on your back, pulling you closer, pressing you against her. You feel her tongue slide against yours, and then you taste her mouth, and it's a taste that you want more of. You taste her, and you smell her, and you feel her.

All you can do is what comes naturally, so next you're moving your hand from the bed and onto her hip, and slowly moving it along her waist, sliding it under her top. Her body tenses slightly as the palm of your hand touches her soft, warm skin.

"Are you okay?" you ask between kisses.

"Yes," she says, and the look in her eyes tells you the same. "Don't stop."

So you don't. You keep kissing her, touching her and exploring her. Your hand moves up her side, feeling the curve of her waist, and the rise of her ribcage. You brush the edge of her bra and hesitate, but then her hand reaches for yours and guides it under the fabric. You feel her breast against your palm, soft and warm and firm, and you feel her nipple, hard and erect, and you feel her tremble beneath you.

"You're beautiful," you whisper to her.

She blushes and smiles before you slip your tongue against hers again.

You never allowed yourself to appreciate Hanni for her beauty. It's not like you were blind to it. It's just that you didn't let yourself see it. Maybe deep down you knew that if you did, you wouldn't be able to look at her as just a friend anymore. So you suppressed that part of yourself. But now, with her lying here beneath you, you can't help but appreciate not only how pretty she is, but just how hot her body is, especially as your hands explore her. She's toned, but soft, and you can't get enough of her.

Her own hands are busy, too. They're running up and down your back, and then they're slipping under your shirt, and you can feel her nails scratching lightly against your skin.

"Can we take off our tops?" she asks suddenly, breaking the kiss. The question is kind of awkward, you both feel this, there's this shared twinge of embarrassment that you can sense in each other. It's not romantic, it's not sexy, it's just a bit silly.

"Sure," you say, and you sit up and pull your shirt over your head. You look down at her and suddenly feel so exposed, even if she is the one in tight shorts and her legs on either side of your hips, you're the one that's topless.

Hanni sits up too, and pulls her top off, revealing her light blue bra. She's moving a little erratic as she reaches behind her back, so much so that she fumbles the clasp twice before unfastening it. She lets the straps slide down her arms and throws it aside, quickly crossing her arms over her chest. Her face is a deep red.

She's embarrassed. You've never seen her like this before. You've seen her nervous, shy, even scared, but never embarrassed. And it's adorable. You're sitting just a few inches from each other, yet she's still looking down and to the side.

"Hey," you whisper, and then she looks at you. "You're beautiful."

She smiles and uncrosses her arms, and your eyes move down from her face to her breasts. You've seen her in a bra, but not like this. Never this close, never bare, never with the intention of touching them.

So, you do. You place your hand on one of her tits, and then she's leaning into you and you're kissing again. She fits so perfectly into your hand, and you can't resist gently massaging it. Instinct takes over. You're not thinking anymore, you're just doing what feels right. So you break the kiss and move your head down to her other breast. You start kissing around her nipple, and then you take it in your mouth, and you hear her moan. It's a sound that sends shivers down your spine, and then she's tangling her fingers in your hair, pressing your face into her chest.

You spend some time like this, alternating between her two breasts, licking, sucking, and nibbling on her nipples. It's a little clumsy, and you don't really know what you're doing, so you just follow what her soft little moans tell you. You love the feel of her tits against your face, the taste of her skin, the sound of her breathing.

And then she's pulling you back up and kissing you, and you're lost in the sensation of her lips on yours, her tongue on yours, her body against yours. You can feel her heart beating, and it's beating fast.

"You're so hot," you whisper, and she smiles and blushes.

"So are you," she says, and then she's pushing you down onto the bed, rolling on top of you. She kisses you again, and then she's kissing your neck, your collarbone, your chest. She's kissing her way down your body, and you're not sure what to do, so you just lie there and let her explore. You become more aware of your own body, and the sensation of her wet kisses against your skin. You become more aware of the discomfort between your legs. It's only now, in this moment of respite from kissing her lips and her tits, that you realise she must have felt it. The whole time. Since you started kissing her, and you laid yourself against her. She must have felt the bulge in your pants pressing against her crotch. You're mortified. You can't even look at her, you just stare up at the ceiling with an embarrassed smile on your face.

"Hey," she whispers, and you look down at her. She's kneeling between your legs, looking up at you. Her eyes are wide and bright, and she has a big goofy grin on her face. She looks so cute. "Did I do this?"

She's not looking at you. You follow her gaze down to the bulge in your pants.

"Uhhh..." you're not sure what to say. "Yes. Probably. I think so. I'm sorry."

She giggles, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. "It's okay," she says. "It's nice. I, uh, I like it."

You laugh nervously, and she laughs with you, and then she's unbuttoning your pants, and you're not sure what's happening. You feel like you should say something, but you can't think of anything, so you just lie there and let her do it. You lift your hips so she can pull down your jeans and underwear in one motion. Although you can't bring yourself to look down, the feeling of being exposed is overwhelming. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling as if it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"I've never done this before," she says. "I mean, I've seen one before. On TV, or in a movie, or something. But I've never... I don't really know what to do."

"It's okay," you say, your voice shaky, and you almost don't recognise it. "You don't have to—" Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her fingers touch you.

"I want to," she whispers, and then she's gripping your shaft in her hand, and you can feel her fingers wrapping around it.

You're hard, and she's touching you, and it feels incredible. It feels incredible and wrong and exciting and scary and confusing and perfect and you can't think straight.

"Is this okay?" she asks, and her voice is soft and hesitant.

"Yes," you reply, and you can't keep the desire out of your voice.

She starts to stroke you slowly, and you can feel her fingers moving up and down your length, and it feels so good. Her touch is so delicate, so gentle, so loving, so careful, and you can't get enough of it.

You can't help but look down at her now. She's staring at you with a mixture of fascination and desire, and you can see the way her eyes move as she takes in every inch of you. That's Hanni, right there, and you can't believe that she's doing this to you.

"I've never seen one this close before," she whispers, and then she's leaning in, and you feel her breath on you. "I didn't realise it would be so warm. Or that it would feel so... alive."

She's still holding you, and you're still looking at her, and then she's looking up at you, and your eyes meet. Her expression is a mix of curiosity and lust. It's an expression that sends a shiver down your spine.

She kisses the tip. It's a gentle kiss, and it sends a jolt of pleasure through you. She looks up at you again, and there's a smile on her lips.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes," you breathe, and you're surprised by the huskiness in your voice.

"Good." She kisses you again, and then she's running her tongue over the tip. "It tastes funny," Hanni laughs gently and smiles. "I don't know if I like it yet, but I think I do."

She licks you again, and then she's kissing you, and then she's licking you, and then suddenly she's doing both. Her lips part in one of her kisses and she takes the head into her mouth so her tongue can work uninterrupted. She's licking around the head, and then she's taking you deeper, and you can feel her tongue exploring your shaft. It's incredible. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before. You've seen this before, on screen, or in magazines, or whatever, but nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of having her mouth around you.

"Oh god," you groan. "Hanni..."

It's all encouragement for her. A signal to her unsure mind that yes, this is exactly what you want and it feels as good as anything that you could have imagined. You're already sensitive, so every little movement of her tongue sends a shockwave of pleasure through you. You can't keep your eyes off her, watching her lips slide down your shaft, her tongue flicking at the head, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks you, her eyes looking up at you, checking that what she's doing is right.

She's breathing heavily from her nose, and the hot hair is kissing your skin. You can't believe you're seeing her like this, that this is the girl you grew up with.

"Hanni..."

She doesn't respond. She's too focused on the task at hand, on making you feel good. And she's doing a good job of it. A very good job of it.

"Hanni..."

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, and she stops moving her head. "Is something wrong?" she asks, her voice muffled by your cock. She pulls her head back, letting you slip out of her mouth, and a string of saliva connects the tip to her lower lip.

"No, no, no," you say quickly, "nothing's wrong. I just... I don't think I'm going to last much longer." You're embarrassed. You've never been in a situation like this before, and you're not sure what to expect, or what you're supposed to do. But you know that you're close to cumming, and you don't want to do it in her mouth.

"That's okay, just don't let the other girls hear us," she says, and then she's smiling at you, and then she's taking you in her mouth again, and then she's moving her head up and down, and then you're watching her cheeks hollow as she sucks you. Tongue running patterns over the underside of your length, you can't take much more.

"Oh god, Hanni, I'm going to—"

She doesn't stop. She doesn't slow down. She doesn't even flinch. She just keeps going, and you can't hold back any longer. You can feel the orgasm building inside you, and you can't stop it, and you don't want to, and you're not sure if you should, and you're not sure what to do, and—

You cum, and it's the most intense orgasm of your life. You can't help but cry out in pleasure, and you feel your hips buck involuntarily, and you feel her tongue continue to lap at the head as your cum spills out of her mouth. She doesn't pull back, she doesn't stop, she doesn't do anything to stop you from cumming in her mouth, she just keeps going, and you can feel her swallowing some of it. Some pools on your skin.

"Oh god," you say, and your voice is a whimper, and you're still trembling with pleasure.

Hanni pulls away and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks up at you, and there's a mischievous grin on her face.

"Wow," she says, and then she's giggling. "I wasn't expecting that!"

"Are you okay?" you ask, and your voice is shaky.

"I'm good." She smiles and crawls up so she can rest her head on your shoulder, half draping her body over yours, your bare skin touching. She kisses your neck, her breath tickles your skin. You put an arm around her, holding her close. "I didn't know that would be so fun. Can I do it again?"

"Not right now," you say through strained breath. "Maybe later."

"Okay." She's looking up at you, and she has that same goofy grin on her face. "Was that okay? I've never done it before."

"It was more than okay," you say, and you can hear the awe in your own voice. "That was incredible."

"Really?" She sounds pleased with herself. "I wasn't sure what I was doing."

"It was perfect," you say, and then you kiss her forehead, and then you kiss her lips, and then you're lost in the sensation of her body pressed against yours. You can't believe that you're here, that you're doing this, that you're with her.

"I'm glad," she murmurs, and then she's looking at you again. "So, what now?"

"Can I try?" you ask. "With you, I mean. Can I... use my mouth on you?"

"You don't have to," she says quickly, but then her voice trails off. She seems unsure.

"I want to," you say. "If you want me to."

Her smile is wide and her eyes are bright. "I do," she says. She kisses you on the lips, and then she's rolling onto her back.

You lean over her, and your hands are shaking, and your heart is racing, and you're not sure what to do, or where to start, or if you're going to be any good at this, but you want to try. You want to make her feel as good as she made you feel. You want to taste her, to explore her with your tongue, to learn what makes her moan, what makes her gasp, what makes her squirm. You want to make her feel as good as you do.

So you start where you began earlier, at her chest, and you spend some time just appreciating them. Kissing them. Running your tongue over her nipples. Squeezing. Massaging. Listening to her breathing change.

"I love these," you mutter. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful."

Hanni doesn't respond with much more than a pleasured hum, but she doesn't need to. You can tell she's enjoying this, enjoying the attention. And it's a good thing too, because you have no intention of stopping. Not until she tells you to, at least. You keep kissing and licking and sucking her nipples, and you can feel her arching her back, pressing herself into your mouth, and you can hear her breath growing heavier, and her heart races.

Hanni gives a deep, full-bodied moan, the loudest she has so far. You take it as a signal to descend, and you trail kisses over her stomach, which makes her giggle and squirm. You feel the heat radiating off her body. Her scent is strong—intoxicatingly so.

When you reach the waistband of her tight black shorts, you pause for a moment, and then you hook your fingers under the elastic and pull them down. You're not even sure what to expect underneath, but whatever you had in your mind, the reality is so much better. Her black panties are lacy, and they hug her body perfectly, accentuating every curve, every dip, every contour. They're so sexy, so beautiful, that you can't help but stare. Your mouth hangs open and you can feel your dick stirring back to life already. You can't believe that you're here, that you're seeing her like this.

You take time to admire her. Her thighs and her hips and the delicate apex underneath the wet panties. Then you look up her body, taking in the way her wide hips give way to the curve of her waist, the way her breasts rise and fall with each breath, the way her hair frames her face, the way her eyes shine in the dim light, and they stare at you, accompanying her smile.

"What are you thinking?" she asks, and her voice is barely a whisper. "I know that face. You always have that look on your face when you're thinking about something."

"You're the most beautiful girl in the world," you say, and you mean it, and you're not sure why you've never told her before.

Her smile widens and she laughs, covering her face. "You're so cheesy," she says, but you can tell that she likes it, that she appreciates it, that she loves it.

"Can't help it," you say, and then you lean down and kiss her stomach again, the muscles tense under your lips, and her breath catches. You kiss your way down to the edge of her panties, and then you pause.

"Is this okay?" you ask, and you're not sure why, but you feel like you need her permission, even having come this far.

"More than okay," she replies, and her voice is soft and breathy, and full of desire.

You smile, and then you kiss the edge of her panties again, and then you start to pull them down. You can feel the fabric stick to her skin as you peel them off her body, revealing her pussy. The sight of it takes your breath away, and you can't help but stare. It's beautiful, of course, but it's also more than that. It's Hanni. It's the most intimate part of her body, the most vulnerable, the most sensitive, the most private, and it's right there in front of you, and she's permitting you to touch it, to taste it, to explore it. She trusts you.

You place your palms on her thighs and spread her legs. You move your head between them and you plant the most delicate of kisses on her wet skin. Her body twitches. Another kiss, and another, and another, and you can feel her legs tremble. You can feel her body tense.

"You're so wet," you say, and you can't keep the awe out of your voice. You can feel her juices on your lips, and you lick them off, tasting her for the first time. It's sweet yet musky, and it's a taste that you want more of. You lick her now, a few tentative ones over her lips and then one from bottom to top, ending at her clit. She reacts more to that last one. So that's the spot, then. You repeat that pattern a few times.

"Oh god, that feels so good," Hanni moans, her head tilting back and her eyes closing.

"I can do better," you whisper, and then you focus on the peak of your previous licks, pushing your tongue between her lips where she's most sensitive. Hanni gasps, her hips bucking involuntarily, and her thighs tense, her hands gripping the bedsheets, and she's so responsive, so sensitive, so receptive to your touch, that you can't help but smile. You keep licking, flicking your tongue over her clit, teasing it, circling it, and you can feel her thighs tremble, her hips rock, and her breathing grows heavier and heavier.

"Oh, oh, oh," she murmurs, and her voice is a whimper, and it's so cute, and so sexy, that you can't help but moan into her pussy, the vibrations sending shivers through her body, and she whimpers again.

Now it's your turn to lock your lips against her, enclosing around her sensitive nub. You suckle on her clit, running your tongue over it, and she's rocking her hips against every movement of your tongue. It's the sexiest thing you've ever heard. All the gasps, whimpers, and moans. You could listen to it all day.

In a moment of realisation, you worry if the others can hear it. If they're in their own rooms, then probably not, but you know that at least one of them is asleep in the living room. Your head is buried in your best friend's pussy. What if someone knocks on her door? How would you explain this? What if—

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Hanni cries and her voice is louder than before, and you can hear the desperation in her tone, and you can feel her body tensing, her back arching, and her hands gripping the sheets tighter and tighter. "Don't stop, don't stop," she moans.

Her thighs clasp around your head and all your worries about being caught are washed away with a new fear. You're trapped between her thighs. Your head is being crushed by the muscles you were just admiring. You're going to die here, between her legs. It's a pretty good way to go, though, so you accept it. At least you got to eat her out.

But then, as suddenly as it came, the pressure is released. Her legs go limp, and her body sags, and her breathing slows, and her hands relax, and she's lying there, panting, and trembling, and whimpering.

"Holy shit," she whispers, and her voice is hoarse, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride. You made her cum. You made her cum hard. "That was amazing," she whines. "I didn't know it would feel that good."

You smile, and you kiss her pussy, and then her inner thigh, and then the crease of her hip, and then you move up her body, kissing her stomach, and her breasts, and her neck, and finally you reach her lips. You kiss her, and she kisses you back, and then you're both laughing, giggling, and smiling, and holding each other close.

"That was incredible," she says, and her voice is soft and breathy, and she's looking up at you with wide, sparkling eyes. She kisses you again, and then you're lost in the sensation of her body pressed against yours.

"I didn't know it would be that good," you admit. "I thought it would be nice, but not like that."

"Me neither," she whispers, and she's looking at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You smile, and you kiss her again, and then you're both lying there, holding each other, basking in the afterglow.

"So," she says, after a few moments. "I don't want this to be over. I want to keep feeling like this."

"What do you mean?"

She smiles, and her eyes are full of mischief. "You know what I mean."

"Are you sure?" you ask, and you can't keep the excitement out of your voice.

"Yes," she whispers, and her voice is soft and breathy, and full of desire. "I've been thinking about it for a while. There's, uh, things in the top drawer."

"Things?"

"Just open it, dummy," she laughs, and you do. Inside, there's a sealed pack of condoms. You pick it up, and you can feel your heart racing, and you can feel the blood rushing to your cock, and you can feel the excitement building inside you. You turn back to her, and she's looking at you with a mixture of love and lust. Her eyes are full of anticipation, and she's biting her lip.

"You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?" you ask, and you can't help but grin. "You've had these just waiting here?"

She blushes and looks away, but then she looks back at you and smiles shyly. "Maybe."

You take one out and kneel back on the bed, between Hanni's spread legs. You know what to do. Simple. But the way that Hanni is looking at you, with a mixture of anticipation and excitement, is making it difficult to focus, and your hands are shaking.

You manage it, though. You roll the condom down your shaft and look at her. Her smile is wide and bright, and you can't help but smile back. She reaches for you and pulls you down on top of her.

"I can't believe we're doing this," you say.

"Me neither," she giggles, and then you're kissing again, and it's a hungry kiss, full of passion and desire. You feel her hand move between you and take hold of your cock, and you feel her guide it to her entrance, and then you're both pressing forward. The kisses are replaced by shared gasps, and your forehead comes to rest against hers. She's so warm, so wet, and so tight, that you have to pause for a moment, just to catch your breath, and she does the same, her eyes closed, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Are you okay?"

She nods quickly and then tells you, "Keep going."

So you do. You push forward, slowly, carefully, and she takes you, inch by inch, until you're fully inside her, and you're both breathing heavily, and you're both trembling, and you're both holding onto each other, and it feels incredible.

"Wow," she whispers, and her voice is a whimper, and you can't help but smile.

"Yeah," you breathe, and you're smiling too, and then you're both sharing a laugh. "Doesn't it hurt? I thought it was supposed to—"

"A little, but don't worry," she tells you. "I'll let you know if it gets too much. Just... take it slow, okay?"

"Okay," you say, and then you start to move, slowly, and carefully, and her body responds to every movement, every thrust, every inch. Her hips rock against yours, and her hands grip your back, and her nails dig into your skin, and her lips press against your neck. She's so unbelievably tight.

"Hanni," you whisper, and your voice is a low growl, and you can't help but groan as you feel her muscles clench around your cock.

"Don't stop," she whines, and her voice is a needy whimper, her body is pressing against yours, and her legs are wrapping around your hips, pulling you closer, keeping you deep inside of her.

You pick up speed, but not too fast. You don't want this to end, you never want this to end, but you can't help yourself. It feels so good. It feels so right. It feels perfect. It feels like everything you've ever wanted.

"Oh god," you groan, and you plant your hand against her—half on her thigh, half on her ass. You grasp her soft flesh as you try to bury yourself deeper. Her body tenses in response. She likes it. "You're amazing."

"Mmm... more..." she moans, and you can't help but smile.

You start to thrust harder, faster, and her hips start to rock against yours, and you're both lost in the sensation. Breathless whimpers are broken by raw moans, which you try to stifle with kisses so no one can hear you, and then you're both lost in the rhythm, the back and forth, the ebb and flow. You're both in sync, both moving together, and it's the most beautiful thing in the world. You can feel the pressure building inside you, and you can feel her body tensing, and her breathing quickening, and you're both so close.

Hanni brings her hands to your head, running her fingers into your hair and pulling your ear to her mouth. She lets out a moan right into it, before telling you, "Take it off." You're not sure it's a good idea, but she's insistent. "I want to feel you. All of you. Please. Take it off."

"Hanni... I don't think—"

You're cut off by her moving her hands to your shoulders and pushing you onto your back. Hanni leans over you and looks down at your throbbing cock. "Let's do it properly." She reaches down and rolls the rubber off your shaft, leaving it bare. Your stomach clenches in a mix of excitement and fear. She throws the condom aside and then she climbs on top of you, straddling your waist, and her pussy hovers above your cock.

"Hanni, we shouldn't—" you start, but she cuts you off again. She takes hold of your shaft and rubs the tip of your cock along her wet folds. Her juices coat your cock. Her warm pussy teases the tip. Your eyes roll back in your head.

"It's okay," she whispers, and then she pushes your tip inside her, and she gasps, and you moan, and then she's sinking onto you, and you're sliding up inside her, and you're both breathing heavily, and you're both moaning, and you're both lost in the sensation.

"Oh god," you moan, and you can't help but grab her hips and pull her down, and you can't help but thrust up into her. You're bare. You're inside her, skin-to-skin, and it's the most incredible thing you've ever felt. The way she rocks her hips drives you insane. She's so warm, so wet, and so tight, that you're not sure how long you can last.

"Don't cum," she whispers, and her voice is a needy whimper, and she's looking down at you with wide, pleading eyes. "Not yet."

"I'm not sure I can—"

"You have to," she says, and she's looking down at you with desperate eyes, and you can't help but nod. "Please," she says, and she's grinding her hips against you, and she's riding you, and she's fucking herself with your cock, and she's moaning, and whimpering, and gasping, and you're both lost in the sensation.

"I'm close," you warn her. "I can't—"

"Wait for me," she whines, and you can feel her body start to tense, and you can feel her walls clench around your cock, and you can feel her start to tremble. "I'm—"

With a loud moan, her body tenses and cuts her words off. Her pussy clenches, and her hands grip your chest, nails digging into your skin, and her eyes squeeze shut. Her whole body quivers as her orgasm washes over her, and you can't help but thrust up into her, pushing yourself as deep as you can go. She cries out in pleasure, and you feel a heat in the pit of your stomach.

You thought nothing would be as intense as when you burst into Hanni's mouth, yet just half an hour later, you realise that was nothing compared to this. The rush is so powerful, so overwhelming, that it almost knocks the wind out of you. You can't breathe, you can't think, and you can't stop the flood of cum that's filling her. You can feel it, and she can feel it, and it's so hot, and so thick, and so wet, that you can't help but groan.

Pulsing and throbbing inside her, Hanni keeps riding you, her hips rolling, her thighs trembling and her cute little tits bouncing. Your cum spills out of her, and the mess is pooling beneath you both. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You can't help but smile as you watch her. She's so perfect, so beautiful, and you're inside her—the reason she's cumming.

She collapses on top of you, her head on your shoulder, and her body limp. She's breathing heavily, and you're both covered in a sheen of sweat. You wrap your arms around her and hold her close, and she does the same, her fingers running through your hair, and she's kissing your neck, and your cheek, and your lips. You kiss her back, and it's a soft, gentle kiss, full of love, affection, and gratitude.

"I can't believe we just did that."

You can feel her smile against your skin. "I can't believe I let you cum in me," she giggles. "It felt so good, though." She lifts herself up and looks down at you, her smile wide and her eyes sparkling. "Did I do okay?"

"You were incredible," you say, and you mean it.

"Maybe next time we could—"

"Next time?" you ask, making sure you heard her right.

"Yes," she says, and her voice is soft and shy, and she's looking at you with a mixture of love and lust. "I want to do that again. And again. And again."

"Me too," you say, and you can't help but smile.

-

She's asleep. You're lying in her bed, watching her. She's so beautiful, and you can't stop looking at her. You can't stop thinking about her. About what you've done. You're not sure how you're going to get to sleep. She's snuggled up to you, her head resting on your shoulder, and her legs tangled with yours. Her breathing is slow and steady. She's peaceful, and you're so happy. You can't remember the last time you were this happy.

You can't remember the last time you felt so content. It's strange. It's like you've been living your life in a fog. You've been drifting, and you've been lost, and you've been searching for something, but Hanni has been right here. She was right in front of you, all along.

You just didn't realise it, until now.

[rottenfyre]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ ᴘ ᴇ ʀ ꜰ ᴇ ᴄ ᴛ ɢ ɪ ʀ ʟ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Platonic Bruce Wayne x Fem Reader Part 1

Headcanon: You were his daughter, his first child. But he lost you too soon. And he couldn't accept it, so he didn't. He tried to replace you, and replacing you he did.

Notes: Merry Christmas everybody! Reader is Bruce's blood daughter. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

You were only eight years old. A quiet child who wore your heart on your sleeve but never demanded too much from anyone. A child with shining eyes who only ever wanted her father’s attention. You understood he was busy. You understood he had responsibilities far greater than you could fathom. So, you never asked for much.

When Alfred bought you a new dress, you’d wear it and twirl in front of the mirror, hoping your father might notice. When you drew pictures, pouring every ounce of love you had into them, you’d approach him with trembling hands.

“Daddy, look!” you’d chirp, only for him to mutter, “Not now,” without even glancing up.

Tears would gather in your eyes, but you’d smile. “That’s okay. I understand.”

You always understood.

It was your birthday. You didn’t tell him you wanted a party because you didn’t want to bother him. But Alfred helped you bake a cake. You decorated it yourself with little shaky hands, frosting it with bright colors and sprinkles.

“Do you think Daddy will like it?” you asked Alfred, your eyes wide with hope.

“He will love it, Miss Y/N,” Alfred replied softly, his heart aching at the way you tried so hard to make up for Bruce’s absence.

But Bruce didn’t come home that night. When you asked him earlier to come home early, he looked distracted, his mind already on his mission. He muttered something about being busy, about Gotham needing him, and you nodded,

But it still broke your heart.

That night, while Gotham reeled under the threat of Joker’s latest atrocity, you snuck out. The small, homemade cake you had baked with Alfred was carefully packed in a box, your hands clutching it tightly as you walked through the shadowy streets. You had no fear. You only had a singular purpose: find your father and surprise him.

But Gotham is no place for children.

When the explosion shook the city, it ripped through buildings, shattering windows, and collapsing walls. You were caught in the chaos. Your small body was no match for the blast. You died alone, crushed beneath rubble, the cake splattered on the pavement beside you.

Bruce found you hours later.

The world seemed to stop as he knelt beside your bloodied, broken body. The cake splattered and ruined beside you. Your tiny hands were burnt, your face pale and lifeless. You had tears streaked down your cheeks, and Bruce wondered if you had been crying for him when it all happened.

The weight of his failures crushed him more than the rubble ever could. You had been so kind, so sweet, so pure. And now you were gone.

Because of him.

Bruce didn’t sleep for weeks. He didn’t eat. He barely spoke. He couldn’t. He just sat in the Batcave, staring at the empty chair where you used to sit and draw while he worked.

Alfred buried you. Bruce didn’t even have the strength to carry your casket. The guilt was too much.

But guilt wasn’t enough to keep him from trying to bring you back.

In the bowels of the Batcave, he poured years of his life into creating a perfect replica of you. Not just a clone. Not a hologram. Something more advanced, more real. An AI. A machine with your face, your voice, your mannerisms.

He painstakingly programmed every little detail. The way you hummed softly when you were deep in thought. The little “buh” sound you made with your lips when you were bored. The sparkle in your eyes when you smiled. He sifted through every recording, every memory, and built you piece by piece.

He spent years, decades, building and perfecting it. He wanted it to be so real that it could almost convince him you never died.

He kept you a secret from everyone except Alfred, who watched his master spiral deeper into madness. But Alfred could do nothing to stop him.

And then, one day, Damian found you.

Damian had been exploring the Batcave when he stumbled upon a locked chamber. Curiosity got the better of him, and he hacked his way inside.

You were there.

Sitting upright in a glass pod, your eyes closed, your body eerily still. You looked alive.

Damian touched the console, and the pod began to hum. Your eyes fluttered open for the first time in decades.

“Daddy?”

Your voice was soft, delicate, and full of confusion.

Damian stared, wide-eyed, as Bruce burst into the room, his face pale. For a moment, father and son locked eyes, the weight of the secret between them heavy enough to crush mountains.

But you sat up, looking around, your movements jerky and inhumanly precise. You looked exactly as you did the last time he saw you—a little girl with bright eyes and a sweet smile.

“Daddy?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion.

Bruce froze, fear and grief washing over him like a tidal wave. You blinked at him, your expression innocent, unknowing. You didn’t understand why he was crying, why his hands trembled as he reached out to touch you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You tilted your head, confused. “Sorry for what, Daddy?”

“I’m sorry,” he choked, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he was crying. “Why are you sad, Daddy?”

When Damian confronted Bruce, it all came out—the years of guilt,

“She’s not real,” Damian said, his voice sharp. “This isn’t healthy.”

“She is real,” Bruce snapped, his voice breaking. “She’s my daughter.”

Damian didn’t understand until he saw you again. You smiled at him, sweet and kind, and for a moment, he believed it. You were so lifelike, so real.

At first, Damian was wary of you, but he couldn’t deny that you were… convincing. You played with your toys like a child. You laughed just like the sister he never knew.

But there was something off about you. Something unsettling.

You were too perfect. Too aware. Your mind was faster than any human’s. You solved puzzles and answered questions before Damian could even finish asking them. Your laughter, though sweet, sometimes echoed hollowly in the Batcave, sending chills down his spine.

And then, one night, you attacked him.

He had been training in the Batcave when you approached him, your face eerily serene.

“Damian,” you said, your voice as calm as ever, “Do you love Daddy?”

He frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Then why do you hurt him?”

Before he could respond, you lunged. Your small frame belied your strength, your hands locking around his throat with a grip that could crush steel. Damian struggled, managing to throw you off just in time.

Bruce arrived moments later, pulling you back. You didn’t cry. You didn’t scream. You simply tilted your head, watching Damian with cold, analytical eyes.

“I was just protecting Daddy,” you said softly.

Bruce couldn’t see it. To him, you were still the little girl he lost. The little girl he failed to protect. He ignored the warnings, the cracks in your programming, the danger you posed.

Because he loved you.

And you loved him, in the only way a machine could. But at the end of the day, you were a construct. A hollow imitation of the daughter he lost.

You would never truly be her.

But Bruce didn’t care. Even as Damian begged him to shut you down, even as Alfred looked on in silent disapproval, Bruce clung to you.

Because in his mind, losing you again was a pain he couldn’t endure.

And you?

You sat in your little room in the Batcave, humming softly, your lifeless eyes staring at the wall. You didn’t understand why everyone looked at you with such fear.

After all, you were Y/N.

Right?

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[miedei]

lol I imagine spencer picking reader up after her first girl's night with the BAU ladies and he's all 'why did you let her get so drunk' but he's so in loveeeeee will let her climb him like a koala and take her home and take off her makeup for her bc she'd forget </3333

omgg anon you read my mind!!

1k, you're drunk and love spencer (he loves you too)

mystery girl!au

He shows up to the bar, calling you, but in your drunken stupor you seem to be struggling to pick up the phone. Elle, much more sober than the others, guides him over to the booth that you've crammed yourselves into. JJ and Garcia are leaned on your shoulders from either side, voices overlapping as they speak incoherently. Spencer can't help but chuckle at the complete 180 your expression makes, however.

Before you catch sight of him, you're frowning down at your phone, your jabbing finger missing the buttons every time you try. Nodding absently at whatever's being said around you, you can't tear your eyes away from it, your knitted brows making affection swell up in Spencer's heart.

But when you do see him?? It's like the clouds have parted. Your eyes light up, straightening up in your seat as you wave happily, not caring that you're jostling JJ and Garcia as you do.

"Spence! You're here! I was trying- trying to call you but," You frown again, "my phone is being weird." The frown can't stay for long, though, as you climb haphazardly over JJ's lap in order to stand in front of Spencer, lauching yourself at him with a giggle.

He can barely keep his balance, widening his stance a little before running a hand up and down your back with an indulgent smile.

"How much have you had, angel?" He stares pointedly at Elle as he speaks to you, who raises her palms in a repentant gesture. You mutter something into his shirt, words muffled as you don't seem willing to take your face out of his chest just yet.

"What was that?" "I dunno, Spence. Can we kiss?"

He flushes, and no matter how drunk they are, JJ and Garcia can always pick up on an instance where they can tease him. They giggle behind their hands, unsubtly whispering about how they've got to tell Morgan about this. Spencer can't bring himself to care, though, not when he's got you in his arms, your chin propped up against his chest as you look up at him pleadingly.

He can't help himself, bending down painfully at the neck to plant a kiss on your lips.

After making sure Elle is alright shepherding the other two home, he sweeps you out of the bar, bundling you up in his cardigan before putting you in the passenger seat of his tiny car. He's not a huge driver, so he has less of his attention on you than he'd like, but you don't seem to notice, chattering away mindlessly in the passenger seat about how the music was sooo good tonight and your friends are so cool spence i might steal them (you have).

Once you make it back to your apartment complex, he half-drags you into the lobby before giving up and hoisting you onto his back piggy-back style. It's surprisingly effective, not only to get you moving faster, but the sight of his brown hair right in front of your face shuts you up real quick.

He doesn't really realise why until he catches a glimpse of you in the elevator mirror, and the view of your eyes trained fixedly on his hair, clumsy hands trying to be gentle as you braid some of it, has his eyes practically turning into hearts.

Once he finally gets the two of you into the apartment, he makes sure you're holding on tight as he undoes your strappy shoes, placing them in the shoe rack overflowing with mismatched pairs. After toeing off his converse with nowhere near as much care, he maneuvers the two of you into the bathroom, depositing you on the bathroom counter. You whine softly at the loss of his hair in your hands, but his tolerant smile has you melting, looking up at him with a dopey smile.

Your adoration nearly has you forgetting to process what he's doing. He's darting around the messy bathroom, grabbing bottle after bottle until his arms are full.

"Spence, what are you doing?" The drinks have clouded your processing skills, and all you want to do his hold him and go to sleep.

He shoots you a small smile, depositing the stuff on the counter next to you before approaching you, cotton pad in hand.

"I've gotta take off your makeup, you know you'll feel uncomfortable tomorrow if you go to sleep with it on," Your eyes are glassy, looking up at him as he swipes at your face with the utmost of care. All the emotions that you harbour for him seem to bubble up inside you, until you can't take it any more.

If you were more lucid, you'd write him a poem. Maybe organise a fireworks show, or buy him a star. But, you're still held in the throes of alcohol, so it's all you can do to blurt out: "You're so so pretty Spence, I love you."

Despite the gesture not being nearly as extravagant as he deserves, blood rushes to his face, and he ducks his head a little as he kisses your forehead wordlessly. He continues to wipe at your face, much gentler than you would, revelling in the feeling of your soft skin under his hand, calloused from his gun.

Finally, once he's done, he helps you out of your dress, handing you one of your pyjama pants and a shirt of his to wear to bed.

As soon as you're dressed, looking achingly cozy perched on the counter, hair mussed and clothes draping over your form, he helps you down to your feet with hands firmly on your waist. He wraps his arms around you from behind, waddling the two of you to the bedroom and tucking you into the covers.

At long last, he slides into bed next to you, giving you some space in case you're overheating still. You can't have that, though, and shuffle along the mattress until you're tucked into his side. Falling asleep almost instantly, you push your head into the crook of his neck, and he buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering into the darkness,

"I love you too"

[mytherapyisreading14]

Magic Tricks

Summary: You are celebrating Henry’s birthday but when Spencer shows some magic tricks, his hands quickly become a distraction to you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, kissing, dirty talk, hand kink, praise kink, choking, fingering, oral sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe y’all)

Word Count: 3,5k

Authors Note: This is the first time I wrote smut, so please let me know if I forgot any warnings/ if there’s anything to improve! Hope you enjoy :)

It's a sunny afternoon, the garden is full of life and everyone came to celebrate Henry's birthday today. Henry is currently sitting on a small wooden bench surrounded by his friends while Spencer shows them his favorite magic tricks. He lets cards slide through his fingers, pulls handkerchiefs out of the air and amazes the children - especially Henry, who sits there with his eyes wide open almost the entire time.

"What do you think, Henry? Ready for something you've never seen before?" Spencer stands in front of the boy and raises his hands, which start to intertwine in a fluid movement. “Yes, definitely!" Henry says enthusiastically.

Spencer quickly brings one of his hands down and pulls a glittering ring out of the air, which immediately appears in his other hand. "Look here, Henry, it's really easy,” Spencer says with a wink. “Wooooow!" the children shout in unison and Henry claps euphorically.

You, sitting next to Penelope on another bench, are also completely fascinated - but you're not just looking at the ring or the tricks. Your gaze keeps wandering to Spencer, to his hands to be precise, which performed the magic with such precision. It's not just the art of magic that captivated you, but also the man himself.

How skillfully his fingers move, how naturally he juggled the small objects - all of this makes your thoughts drift away. The fact that you’ve been in love with him for years now makes it even worse. You imagine how his hands would touch you, how he would hold you when...

You suddenly hear your name and flinch. You didn't even really hear him talking to you, as your thoughts were far away from the magic trick. "Are you even listening to me?" Spencer asks. "Why are you staring at my hands all the time?" You freeze. Suddenly you are so aware of the situation that you almost feel like everyone in the circle is watching you.

Your cheeks turn red. "Uh... I... I just wanted to know how the trick works," you stammer. Penelope, who is sitting right next to you, couldn't help but giggle and whispered to you: "Sure, that must have been the reason..."

"Yes! Exactly," you answer way too quickly. "I... wanted to find out how you did it!" Spencer looks at you for a while, then nods. “Sometimes, it's better if you don't understand the trick," he says with a mysterious smile. "Otherwise the real magic is lost." You try not to blush any more. "Of course, that's true," you murmur and try to relax. Penelope, who is watching the whole situation with a grin, giggles quietly.

Spencer turns back to his magic tricks, but his gaze keeps wandering over to you. You try to look away from his hands now, but unfortunately it's all to no avail. You find yourself looking at his hands and your thoughts wandering in another direction, and Penelope, noticing this, nudges you teasingly with her elbow. "Looks like our genius is enchanting you even more today than usual," she says.

To get out of the situation and keep a clear head, which is never possible around him, you stand up. "I'll get a drink," you mutter. "Good idea," Penelope says with a cheeky grin as you walk towards the house. The other children are busy watching the magic tricks again, but you can't shake the thought of Spencer.

His hands, which unleashed the magic so precisely and elegantly, preoccupied you much more than you would like to admit. You wonder what else he could do with those hands - if it wasn't just about magic tricks.

Spencer, who is busy with the children and their enthusiasm, casts a quick glance at Penelope, who looks at him with an amused smile. He goes over to her while the children continue to marvel and chat. Spencer casts a glance in the direction you went and then wonders if he missed something. “Tell me, Penelope,” Spencer begins, “do you also think she was acting a bit strange just now?”

Penelope laughs. "Oh, come on, Spencer. She was completely distracted." Spencer raises his eyebrow. "By my hands?" he asks, now slightly amused and curious. "Why?" Penelope looks at him and then grins widely. "Well, because she... watched pretty closely how you used them. She was completely fascinated," she explains.

“Fascinated?" Spencer repeats, now even more confused. "And what's so fascinating about that?" Penelope shakes her head and laughs softly. "Come on, you genius, do you really have no idea?" She clicks her tongue and looks at him with an expression that was almost too good-natured to be serious. "Um... no, not really," Spencer replies, looking at her confused. "Explain it to me."

Penelope raises her hands in an innocent gesture. "You're a genius, you should be smart enough to figure that out on your own." She winks at him and then stands up. "I'm going over to the others. Use your clever head properly," she says and then walks towards the house. Spencer ponders, the explanation has triggered something in him, but he still can't quite figure out what exactly Penelope meant.

Then he decides to tell Morgan - who is standing on the other side of the garden - about the previous conversation. He had no idea what had just happened, but something told him that he had to understand it. He walks quickly towards Morgan, who is just getting a beer from a cooler.

“Hey, Morgan," Spencer says, stepping next to him. "You didn't happen to notice what just happened, did you?" Morgan looks at him with a grin when he hears the question. He laughs quietly and takes a sip from the bottle. "Yeah, I noticed. She couldn't take her eyes off you the whole time.”

Spencer suddenly feels a little embarrassed. "What exactly do you mean by that? She was just a little distracted by the tricks. That's all." Morgan raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head, still grinning widely. "So you're really the only one who doesn't notice, huh?" Morgan asks. "Notice what?" Spencer replies. "Well, if you don't understand..." Morgan says, laughing again. "She's in love with you, pretty boy. That's what's going on."

Spencer is so surprised that he just sits there speechless for a moment. "You really think she's in love with me?" Morgan laughs again. "Um, yeah? Have you never noticed how she acts when you're around? How nervous she gets?" Spencer blinks as he thinks about it. He actually hasn't noticed that you sometimes act differently around him.

He thought about the tricks and the magic all the time, but never about the fact that you might be interested in him for another reason - something much more personal. He tried to push the thought away, but something inside him wouldn't let it go. He wanted this - you - for years and he doesn’t want to get his hopes up now. This has to be a misunderstanding, there is no way you are actually interested in him like that.

Deep down, he's wondering if he was really that blind. And what if Morgan was right? What if you actually feel more for him? He looks around again, glancing at you. Spencer puts the thought aside for now - but he knows he can't shake it off so easily. He feels like he can't ignore the whole situation any longer. After talking to Morgan, he realized a lot of things, but he really needed to talk to you to understand them. He has no idea how you would react.

You, on the other hand, try to avoid Spencer for the rest of the evening. You can't be near him without imagining what his hand would feel like around your neck or between your legs. But since Spencer is so popular with the kids and they can't get enough of him and his magic tricks, it's fortunately easier than you think to avoid him. But you still often feel his gaze on you and it makes you nervous.

Later that evening, after most of the guests have already left, you help JJ bring in a few glasses and bottles. You are just about to go back outside when Spencer comes towards you. "Hey," he says, but before you can even reply, Spencer pulls you aside and into the small guest room at the end of the hall. The door closes behind you and the atmosphere in the room is suddenly much more intimate.

“What's wrong?" you ask, still a little confused because he took you aside so suddenly. "You avoided me today," he says. You avoid his gaze so he doesn't see that you are blushing again and start babbling. "Henry and his friends were so impressed by you and your magic and it's his birthday, I didn't want to disturb you. JJ also needed help and I agreed to do that. We were both busy, so it's clear that we don't run into each other that often," you explain hastily.

“That's not true. You deliberately avoided me. And your mind was somewhere else. As if something was distracting you,” he says, taking a step closer to you. “Why don’t you want to tell me what distracted you today?” he asks, looking down at you. Your heart is beating faster and faster and you are a little overwhelmed by the whole situation.

You didn't expect Spencer to confront you with it. "Now you’re quiet. That's uncharacteristic of you. I think I'm making you nervous," he says. "I...uh," you start, but you're unable to form a sensible sentence. "I was just talking to Morgan and… now I know why you were looking at my hands like that." You look at him questioningly. "What?"

"You were looking at my hands," he says, "because you're in love with me." A laugh escapes you. Your reaction leaves Spencer startled, his voice suddenly uncertain. "Why are you laughing?" he asks, and for a moment he looks as if he's not sure what to make of it. "Is it because I'm wrong? I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable -"

But before he’s able to continue, you quickly grab his arm and pull him towards you. Your lips meet his, and for a moment everything else is forgotten. The kiss is gentle and at the same time full of emotions - as if you want to tell each other everything you never put into words. When you pull away from him, you look deep into his eyes and whisper “Morgan is right... I'm in love with you."

Spencer stares at you for a moment, as if to make sure he heard you correctly. But before he can say anything, you quickly add, "But that wasn't the only reason I was staring at your hands," you tell him. "No?" Spencer raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What was the other reason?" he asks, and you can see in his eyes how eager he is to know. "I want to know."

You can see the sparkle in his eyes, the mixture of relief and curiosity, and for a moment you feel your heart beating a little bit faster. There's something you haven't told him yet, something you need to explain to him. But the look in his eyes melts your nervousness.

"I was looking at your hands," you begin, "because you use them in a way I've never seen before. Your movements are so precise, so... controlled. It's not just magic, Spencer. I want to know what else they can do." Spencer is silent for a moment, and then you see a slight smile appear on his face. “So, you're looking at my hands because you want to know what else they can do?" he asks. "Yes," you answer quietly, "but also because I just can't get enough of you."

“I don’t want you to get enough of me. Ever. Because I am in love with you too. For quite a while now. Since the day you sat down on the jet next to me and challenged me to play chess, to be more exact,” he says and leans forward to kiss you again, his hands grabbing your hips to pull you closer.

A gasp escapes your mouth and Spencer takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss and explore your mouth with his tongue. You can feel the heat rushing through your body and you press yourself even closer against him, reaching for his hand. His eyes follow every move with a curious look. You take his hand and slowly guide it to your neck.

His mind slows for a minute and then he finally understands. “That’s what you‘ve been fantasizing about earlier. My hands exploring your body. Me choking you. Haven‘t you?“ he asks and you nod. His eyes darken and you can see the lust sparkling in them.

His hand now wraps around your neck entirely and he squeezes gently. “More,” you whisper. “You tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Spencer says with a concerned look on his face before he tightens the grip on your neck. “Yes Spence, of course,” you breath out before getting distracted by his hand sliding up your inner thigh.

His hand is now under your skirt, running over your panties. “Can I touch you?” Spencer asks and you pull him down by his tie to whisper in his ear. “Of course you can, Spence. I need you to touch me. I’ve been dreaming about this since forever. I’m all yours.” You kiss slowly down his neck, then nibbling on his skin to mark him with a hickey.

That’s all Spencer needs to hear. His hand pulls your panties to the side and he grazes your clit with his finger to tease you. “Spence, please. Touch me,” you whimper and he chuckles. “Someone’s eager. Fantasizing about my hands got you worked up, am I right, sweetheart?” he asks, finally touching your clit with his thumb. Your only respond is a moan and you press down on his finger to show him you need more.

“I barely touched you and you’re already soaked,” he says as he runs his finger through your folds. “Only… only for you, Spence,” you manage to say and slide your hands up to his shirt to open the buttons, taken off guard when he pushes a finger inside you. Your knees are trembling and you have to hold yourself against his body in order to stay up.

“Spence, that’s so - it feels so good… I - I need more, please,” you whine and he pushes another finger inside you. He reaches all the spots you never could and you’re a moaning mess, rocking yourself against his hand. “Good girl,” he praises you and it takes you off guard. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles. “You like that, didn’t you? Me calling you a good girl. So praise kink and hand kink, let’s find out what else you’re into.”

You didn’t expect to hear such words from him. He is always the sweet, gentle and unassuming genius when you are around him, but now, that both of you snapped, finally giving in into your desires, he shows you a completely different side of him, one you’re more then excited to discover. It turns you on immensely.

He squeezes your throat more and pumps his fingers faster, rubbing your clit in circles with his thumb and it doesn’t take long for you to come on his hand. You hold yourself steady against him with trembling knees while he is busy running his hands down your shirt, tugging at your bra and squeezing your breasts. You help him taking off your shirt while he’s guiding you to the bed.

He unclasps you bra skilfully and pulls down your skirt and underwear in one motion, before he pushes you down onto the bed. His gazes wanders over your body and he licks his lips. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart,” he says before he leans forward to kiss down your neck to your breast. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth while squeezing the other one.

You arch your back and slide your hands up to his shirt again to go back to unbuttoning it, after you got interrupted earlier by Spencer giving you so much pleasure that you were unable to continue your actions. You pull his shirt off and run your fingers over his body.

Spencer slowly kisses down your tummy now, reaching your inner thighs where he sinks his theeth into the sensitive skin, sucking the spot to leave a hickey there before he gently kisses it and leans back to admire his work. It earns him another moan from you and he and grins. “So you like marking me, huh?” you decide to tease him back. “You are in no position to tease, darling,” he says with a mischievous grin before he presses his mouth against your cunt, licking a strip up your folds.

Your hands reach for his hair immediately, pressing him closer to you while he devours you like a man starved. Your whimpers are music to his ears and he can’t get enough of you. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he says before he dives back in. You lift your hips to press more against his mouth but he holds you down with his arm. “No, you have to stay still and take what I give you, do you understand?” he asks and you nod.

He shakes his head in disappointment. “Words, sweetheart,” he simply says and you need to concentrate to form a sentence. “I - oh… yes, I understand,” you manage to breath out and he goes back to eating you out, his grip firm on your hips to keep you still. You never felt this kind of pleasure and when you look down and see him devouring you completely, it becomes too much, you come again moaning his name.

Spencer comes up between your thighs with a satisfied smirk on his lips and you pull him down to kiss him again. You taste yourself on his lips and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hand slides down to his pants and you open them with shaky hands, pulling them down. “Need you now, Spence. Please,” you tell him. “You need me that badly?” You nod. “Yes, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He takes off his boxers and your eyes widen, he is bigger than you expected. You watch as he pumps his cock a few times before he lines himself up at your entrance, sliding through your folds a few times to tease you. Then he pushes in and you moan his name. He claps his hand over your mouth to shut you up. “Shh, as much as I enjoy hearing you moan my name, you have to keep quiet,” he says.

From the lack of movement you are feeling right now you were sure he’s giving you time to adjust. When you feel ready you lift your hips to show him. He starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, hitting your G- spot with every thrust. “You feel so good, so warm and wet just for me,” he says and feels you clenching around him.

It feels even better than you imagined. He’s big, but it’s not uncomfortable and you want more. “Harder. You can - you can fuck me harder now,” you say and he chuckles when he hears how eager you are. He starts thrusts in and out of you faster, his hand wrapping around your throat again.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?” he asks, squeezing until you see stars. “Yes, oh god - Spence. Feels so good,” you moan, already feeling another orgasm building up, gripping the arm around your neck for support.

Spencer, who can feel how close you are increases the speed and thrusts even faster and deeper inside of you. Your body is on fire and when Spencer starts to apply pressure to your already sensitive clit, you feel like you’re going to explode. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come around my cock,” he says and his permission is all you need to let go.

Spencer fucks you through your orgasm, also close to reaching his own now. “Fuck, I need to come inside of you. Can I, Sweetheart?” he asks, his thrusts getting sloppier. “Yes, in- Inside me,” you say and he finishes a few thrusts later. When he pulls out you can feel his cum dripping down your thighs, but you don’t mind. He collapses next to you on the bed and pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss on your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks you while he plays with your hair. “Yes, that’s was amazing,” you say and give him a peck on the lips before you cuddle closer to him, gently stroking his hair. He looks down to you. “Do you have to get the morning after pill? I can get it for you,” he says and you smile. “I’m on the pill, Spence, but thank you anyway,” you say and give him a kiss.

You stay in bed cuddling but after a while you speak up. “I would love to cuddle with you all evening, but I think we need to go back out soon, the others are probably already looking for us,” you say and he nods. “A few more minutes. I don’t want to let you go just yet,” he says and you smile. “I love you,” you say and he smiles back. “I love you too.”

[defmaybe]

Pineapples

12 Days of Christmas: Day 5, December 29th, 2024

BABYMONSTER’s Kawai Ruka x Male Reader

4.3k words

A/N: First Ruka fic?

—

“Bitch.”

The answer to how she got into your dorm room remains a puzzling mystery. There’s a security guard outside that won’t allow women to access the men's dorm. Still, any question here is thrown out of the window, with her jerking you off from behind like this, sliding her dexterous hand up and down in a languid motion. You’re shifting and shifting in her embrace on your own bed.

You were sure that the door was locked before you went out of your room this morning—tightly shut. She must’ve lock-picked her way into here. She always has a hairpin with her. You aren’t denying that it looks gorgeous on her, hot even. You could spend the whole day just staring at her with her hair tied up into a bun, topped off with the hairpin piercing through the center of the bunch.

Sure, it’s a little degrading for you to submit to her like this every time you meet. She’ll call you a bitch, a slut, a whore, anything that she could think of that day. You’ll call her by her name, on the condition that you avert her gaze. Still, there’s something to be enjoyed in this power dynamic. 

It’s the thrill of submission.

She makes sure to swipe her thumb when her hand reaches the top of your cock. It’s for fun, she says. Of course, it’d be fun for her. You moan like a bitch every time she does that.

“You love having me jerking you off like this, don’t you?” she asks, her voice venomous, yet so magnetic. God, why is she so attractive?

You can only nod with a whimper, so clouded in the pleasure her hand is giving you. Indeed, it didn’t start slow. She ordered you to sit on the bed, pants off, shirt on (she said that it’d be a bit too cold for you). Your top is going to get all creased, with her pressing up against your back like this, but you couldn’t care less. You love the way she’s reducing you into her toy like this. You feel pliant. You feel obedient. You feel–comfortable.

“And don’t you dare fucking other women with this cock. It’s mine, only mine, understand?”

You nod again. Your hands are all limp from the pleasure coursing through your body. You are unable to move your body by a single inch, with her limbs placed meticulously to lock you in your place like this. Though, it’s like you’d resist, anyway.

Now, back to the beginning. You’d argue that it’s nothing short of rote. You two went over a year from being just a familiar face in your class, always walking past each other without much notice, until a fateful night at the bar.

—

“Ah!” you two exclaimed simultaneously. It seemed that you just crashed into each other. Your drink spilled from your glasses. They weren’t shattered yet, thankfully. Although, it left wet spots on your clothes.

“Sorry!” you apologized, shouting to fight the music.

“It��s fine! I’m sorry too!” she shouted back. God, the music was so loud there.

“Ruka! Right?”

“Yeah!” Ruka responded with a smile, taking a sip of whatever was left in the glass. “And you are?”

You told her your name, also taking a sip of whatever is left in the glass. She seemed to be happy about it. You two finally knew each other after a year of silence.

“So, uh, I should go back to my table now. My friends are waiting,” said Ruka, tilting her head slightly away from you.

“Oh, yeah, I should go back too. See you around, I guess?”

“See you around!”

—

The night rolled on until the bar closed. You and your friends left the bar, preparing to go back to your dorms, but not without your eyes meeting Ruka just on the outside.

“Hey!” Ruka shouted. Her walking was funny, judging from how she carried herself towards you that night. She was definitely drunk, but so did you. You could barely walk straight.

“Hi,” you said. Her friends were looking at you two, murmuring something to one another.

“Sooo~ we’re having an after-party at my placeee. Wanna joinnn?” she asked, intoxicated. Her breath was full of alcohol.

“Uhhh–” you glanced around at your friends, who seemed to have no opinion on it.

“Up to you, man,” Soobin said, shrugging. “I can go with you. It’s Saturday tomorrow.”

—

“Seven minutes in heaven doesn’t seem like a bad idea,” Pharita said, tilting the empty beer bottle in her hand.

The eight of you were inside Ruka’s room, on the floor, preparing to watch the bottle spin. It was somewhat large for a dorm room. Her parents were probably rich. It was clean and tidy, no stray strands of hair could be seen.

“You’ve cleaned the bathroom, right?” Asa asked.

“Just this morning.”

—

“I don’t think I’ve ever got to properly know you,” Ruka said. Her voice was low. The guys are probably eavesdropping from the outside. “We just kinda–”

“I get it, yeah,” you cut her words off with a smile. Your posture was reserved. You remembered you were leaning against the door that day.

Ruka smiled, before asking, “You like women, right? I mean–I don’t wanna assume.” Her expression was full of anxiety—eyes on the floor, tucking her hair behind her ear. She was probably afraid to offend you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, chuckling.

The tension was thick, too thick. Your smile faded. You two kept averting each other’s eyes. There was apprehension within the situation. You gulped and gulped, playing with the hem of your shirt.

Boldly, she grabbed onto your collar, pulling your face closer to her, before she latched her lips onto yours. Her tongue invaded your mouth without any caution, and that made you melt into her embrace. Her lips tasted like alcohol, with a hint of rose on her. You were faltering.

And she pulled back.

“Never knew your lips taste this good,” Ruka said, wiping the saliva off her lips. She looked hot doing so.

You said nothing, only swallowing hard. You could feel blood rushing to the lower part of your body. It was aching. Your hands were trembling, letting out endless whimpers. You didn’t pay attention to her eyes enough to notice that they were gleaming with desire.

“Ooh~” she uttered, voice below a whisper, pressing your body against the door even harder. Her hands started to be where it shouldn’t. Her alcohol-filled breath invaded your personal space. It was uncomfortable, yet–there was something else in it. “You’re one of those guys, don’t you?”

Another whimper escaped you. You were trying to look away from her, too shy to look her in the sharp eyes. You could see her biting her lip in the corner of your eyes, so ready to take over your body. Fuck, she was so attractive doing that.

“What if I.” She grabbed your chin with her left hand softly, heightening the tension in this bathroom. Her breath remained steady, so unfazed by the whole situation. She was good at that.

Her right hand found its way onto the tent on your pants, squeezing your crotch gently. You let out a whimper under her touch. She seemed satisfied with that. She seemed satisfied with your unwavering submission.

“What a good boy for me,” she uttered, grabbing onto your collar tightly. Her voice was nothing short of dangerous. “You fucking love this, don’t you? You love being a bitch boy.”

You weren’t too sure how to answer the question, but there was probably some truth in it. You were revelling in the way she used you. You loved the way she takes control. You loved how she kisses you like that—invading your mouth like it is her property (it’s her property).

“Answer me, bitch,” she hissed, pushing you up against the door. You were tiptoeing on the ground. Fuck, she was strong. “Or I’m going to fucking edge you until you moan like one.”

You’d be dead if the door wasn’t thick, either would that be heard by the guys or breaking the door with her force.

“I–I love b–being a bitch boy, R–Ruka,” you answered, shaken. Her cat-like eyes were so alluring. They pierced through your heart like a bullet. You were in awe of her beauty, and a bit scared of it.

She laughed mischievously, enjoying the power she had over you. Her adept fingers were still giving your bulge squeezes after squeezes. You whimpered with each touch.

“Should’ve known that you’re a submissive little slut,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes upwards. “Now, if you’d kindly follow my instructions~”

You let out a whimper, too clouded within the expectation of her pleasuring you. You were exploring the ways that she could give you the feeling of utter divinity. Hand? Mouth? Thighs? Pene–

“Here’s what I’m going to do,” Ruka started, hands playing with the hem of your pants. You sucked a sudden. Her soft fingers felt so good on your slutty waist. A soft, airy moan left your lips.

“We have–” she looked at her watch, trying to estimate how many minutes you got. You wish you could just press her mouth down on your cock and get this over with, but that wasn’t how it worked, not when she was in control like that “–four minutes left.”

You nodded in response. Full-on penetration was probably out of the window. There were still a few choices for you to ponder on.

“I’ll suck you off. I’ll make it clean. Don’t moan too loud.” Three orders—direct, quick—and as you were processing the information, Ruka pulled your pants down quickly. Your lower body was left just in boxers. Your erection became more prominent than before. A loud moan left your lips. Good thing she managed to close your mouth in time. The guys didn’t hear that.

“I said, ‘Don’t moan too loud’, bitch,” Ruka sneered. “Do you want me to fucking edge you, huh?”

You shook your head with a whimper. She seemed to be satisfied with the answer. She had to be; there’s barely four minutes left. She couldn’t afford any more time wasted berating you.

In a quick motion, she pulled your boxers down, kneeling before you. Your erection was freed from the fabric cage that held you. She didn’t waste any more time judging the size of it. Instead, she dove right into enveloping her mouth around your cock, eyes closed. You could barely contain your moans.

She let out a satisfied hum around your cock. She was happy with your taste. You had to use your hands to cage the whimpers coming out.

Her mouth felt so warm, so wet, so tight. She bobbed her head back and forth adeptly, using her hands to help ramp up the intense pleasure you were feeling. She even went a mile further and started to hollow her cheeks, creating a suction on your cock. You couldn’t help but use all of your inhibition to not let out the loudest moan of your life. Thankfully, it came out as a quiet mewling.

She definitely loved your cock. Hell, she probably got addicted to it. You could feel that she was using all of herself on your cock, sucking on it in such an enthusiastic nature. She finally opened her eyes, looking up to see her bitch boy writhing in the pleasure she was giving to him. She let out a giggle at you.

Three minutes left.

She upped her ante, trying to milk your cock before time ran out. Her movements quickened, yet still deliberate. Her hands rubbed on your cock faster and faster, coaxing suppressed moans out of your mouth. That felt great.

You fell in love with her cat-like eyes. They were so magnetic that night. They pulled you into another realm that was beyond your comprehension. It was a place full of her, and only her.

She then ran her fingers along your lips, feeling the chapped texture of you. As if you knew, you opened your mouth, letting her plunge her fingers into your wet cavern. Her hand reeked of the earlier alcohol—mostly beer. There was a hint of sweat on it. She was addictive. She was like a fucking drug.

“Nngnn.”

You were sure that you were going to remember that forever—getting sucked off by your classmate in her bathroom while drooling on her fingers at the same time. Her one hand was caressing your cock adeptly. Her friends were trying to eavesdrop on the other side, and you were doing your best not to moan like a slut she wanted you to be.

Two minutes left.

Satisfied, drunken hums left your lips. You were revelling in the way she used you like her little fucktoy like this—her mouth on your cock, her fingers in your mouth. The taste of alcohol lingering on her digits filled your mouth. You fucking loved it.

She definitely had talent in sucking a cock. It was as if she had practiced a lot (it was a few guys and her wide variety of toys, she later told you). She created this suction around your cock that made you whimper like a common whore. The guys would’ve heard that if it weren’t her fingers inside your mouth (she argued later that a strap would’ve also worked).

Her fingers invaded your mouth with an unmatched dexterity, sweeping the insides of your mouth ever so masterfully. Your teeth grazed against her fingers. Her head bobbed back and forth, creating an absolutely vulgar image in front of you.

“Fuck, your cock taste good,” she uttered, muffled by your length. Her features were utterly wrecked by your hard cock. You can see tears running down her face, painting streaks of black marks on her cheeks.

It was peculiar, from strangers to something close to a fuck buddy in the span of a few hours. Those conversations in class weren’t going to be the same. The image of her mouth around your cock is going to be imprinted inside your mind forever.

One minute left.

You were doing your absolute best to contain the whimper out of your lips. The feeling was just too heavenly. You clenched your hand into a fist. The all-too-familiar feeling built up in your loins. Your breathing grows frantic. You were going to cum inside of Kawai Ruka’s mouth, with her friends on the other side of the door!

“Hhgnn.”

“Cum, bitch,” she ordered, her words muffled by your hardness.

“I–I’m trying,” you reply, trying to keep your voice below a whisper.

She upped the act into another ante, blowing your cock at a pace quicker than ever. She really wanted you do cum, didn’t she? Her fingers snake onto the rim of your asshole, sending a special kind of shock through your body.

“Fuck!”

Her fingers circle around your tightness. It feels great, being caressed in the ass like this. It feels like you’re her object, and that’s the feeling you absolutely love. Your hips jerk forward into her mouth. She gags a little, but it doesn’t stop her from neither sucking your cock in full force, nor your peak. You’re going to cum inside of Kawai Ruka’s mouth!

And all you could see was white. Your entire body jerked with pure pleasure. Your cock shot ropes of cum into her filthy mouth. Bliss coursed through your bloodstream to your entire frame. You couldn’t even stand straight. You painted the insides of her mouth, not leaving any corner untouched.

You twitched inside her violently, enveloped in her warm, wet cavern. The spurts grew softer and softer, from frantic shots to drizzles. You tried to suppress your moans with her finger, sucking on them harshly.

And just as you thought she’d spit it out in her sink, she swallowed, expressionless. It was splendidly obscene—the way she just drank your cum so damn easily. You remember that you could only gulp at the vulgar sight.

She pulled off of your spent cock. “Need more pineapples,” she said, licking her lips and making a pop sound with her dirty mouth. She’s clean—no trace of your nectar inside her mouth. Fuck.

She stood up, as her eyes were still bored into yours. She was examining your after-blowjob expressions like a predator watching its prey.

“Twenty seconds left. Put your fucking pants on,” she hissed. “Wouldn’t want the guys to know, would you?”

Hastily, you put on your pants. It was sloppy. It was even stuck on your knees at one point. Fuck, why is this so hard? Thankfully, it finally followed your hands up to your slim waist. You frantically buckled your belt for the final touch-up.

She wipes off the black marks on her cheeks. She has probably done it a few times before, because her face looks so damn clean after that.

Time’s up.

Ruka opened the door to the outside, wiping her mouth with her cuffs. You turned around, frozen under the gaze of the people in front of the doorway, still unable to make sense of what had just happened in the bathroom.

You saw Soobin giving you a knowing smirk. The others also probably know what’s up, but at that point, you just couldn’t care less. You just opened a whole new door with the help of Kawai Ruka.

—

She plants her teeth on the back of your neck, making you jolt in response. It’s a playful bite, you can feel it. There’s a lot to be processed right now, still—her hand on your cock, her body pressing up on you, her hot breath brushing against your neck. It feels too good.

“Nasty little slut,” she whispers into your ear. You moan again at the degrading word. You love it. You love the way she takes control over you like this. “Too bad I didn’t bring my strap here, or I’d be fucking your mouth with it.”

You say nothing, only moan. The air thickens with lust and the smell of sex. Ruka quickens her motion from behind you. Your moans are getting louder and louder. She loves this; she told you once. She loves her men moaning like a whore.

“Yeah, moan like that, you pathetic little bitch,” she growls. The demeaning words only serve to push you further into bliss. She then takes a soft bite on your earlobe, making you jolt in response.

“What a sensitive slut,” she continues. She won’t stop calling you these names, will she? Not that you don’t want that, though.

The tension starts to coil inside your muscles. Your eyes flutter. Your breathing becomes rapid. Your toes curl. You’re going to cum in the hands of Kawai Ruka!

“Aww~ gonna cum already?” she coos, her tone mocking. Her hand jerks you off even faster. The swipes on top of your cock aren’t there anymore, but the sensation of her hand rubbing you rapidly is more than enough.

You can’t answer anything but grunting and groaning at her mastery. The warmth of her body on you is comforting, yet so wicked in its own way. It completely engulfs you, making you completely hers.

“Cum in my hand then, bitch. Make a goddamn mess like the slut you are,” she keeps the insults coming in waves. You’re more than happy to welcome that, being reduced to her nasty little slut like this.

“Nghnn.”

Your dam breaks, your cock shoots out spurts and spurts of cum in her hand. Some land on your shirt, some land on her legs. Hell, some even land on your pretty face. She keeps jerking you off through your high, coaxing as much cum as possible out of your cock.

Successive spurts grow softer, from shots to small dribbles. Your cock is still twitching violently in the grip of her hand. 

Eventually, your orgasm dies down. Droplets of cum rest on your cock idly. Trails of it can be seen running down, leaving viscous marks all over. 

Ruka then scoops the remnants of your cum on your cock before sucking her fingers lewdly. You swallow hard. You can’t quite get used to the image of her drinking your nectar yet. She closes her eyes while doing so. God, what a sight.

“That’s enough pineapples,” she says, sucking on her fingers enthusiastically. The obscene sounds of it ring in your ear. She’s enjoying your taste. 

“Want a taste?” She then offers her fingers to you, and you happily accept them. You suck on her fingers like a whore. You find out that you are really sweet today. That’s probably enough pineapples, as she said.

“I can buy you some more pineapples from my dorm if you want,” she says.

You nod, still sucking her fingers like a bitch, tasting the remnants of your own sweet flavor. You absolutely adore the way she’s using you like this, and you just wish you can stay like this forever. 

Suddenly, she pulls her finger out of your needy mouth, leaving the taste of yourself lingering—sweet, intense.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she says with a giggle, before unlocking you from your restraint. You can finally move freely again, at the expense of her warm embrace. You let out a whimper in disappointment.

Ruka gets off of the bed. She gives you a hand, the messy one, with a smile. Your cum stains can still be seen on it. They haven’t dried off yet. You accept her hand before getting up from your bed.

“Thanks,” you say, before heading to your bathroom to clean yourself up.

—

The damage to you wasn’t that much, but you figure that maybe a shower is needed. It’s 10 p.m. already. You soak yourself in the warm water from the shower head above, cleaning the filth on you.

Suddenly, the door opens. It’s Ruka, all naked in the glory, hands on her waist. Her toned, muscular body is on full display. Her small breasts are sitting on her chest beautifully, so tantalizing to your touch. And her abs, god, her abs, it looks so attractive on her body.

“Can I join?” she asks, chuckling. You’re accepting her request, either way.

“Come on in.”

She then walks towards you. There’s seduction in the way she does it—the swaying of her hips, the finger bite, the languid pace, the sensuality. She’s looking straight into your eyes doing so. Your cock hardens again at the image of her.

Ruka lets out a laugh as she reaches you, catching you in her embrace. She feels warm, contradicting the insults (which you happily accepted) thrown at you. Her smile feels sincere under the warm water. She looks–gorgeous.

“So,” Ruka says, caressing your face. “I want to talk to you about something.”

You raise your eyebrow, intrigued by her words. “Uh huh?”

“I want to talk–” she lets the last words flow along with the running water. She goes silent for a while, trying to think of her next words. You nervously wait in anticipation “–about us.”

You do a double take, perplexed by the way this topic comes up like this. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she continues, averting your eye contact. Both of you swallow hard, as she’s too apprehensive to say the next words.

“Wh–What about us?”

“I–” and she pauses. You wait, and you wait, and you wait. She keeps avoiding your eyes, hands still on your burning face. “–I want–more.”

“Oh.”

You guess it immediately. The concept of you two dating hasn’t been very far-fetched since that fateful night, but you’ve never thought she’d be the one to–

“I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and–I feel like–” she pauses again, looking elsewhere, trying to find comfort in the shampoo and body wash bottles around you, but she can’t let this go on forever. She has to say it “–I’ve fallen for you.”

Your eyes widen, unable to comprehend the words that were just coming out of her lips. You’ve never seen Ruka like this, so–raw, so–vulnerable. It’s so strange.

Still, you may have been feeling the same way about her. You know the way she smiles (she always closes her mouth when she does, as if she’s trying to suppress it). You know how she eats (she usually eats the vegetables in the dishes first). You know her favorite show (it’s Ally McBeal). You know, you know, you know.

“A–Are you okay with that, with–us?”

You open your mouth, but no words are coming out. It’s a difficult decision to make. You’re tying yourself to her if you say yes, but also–

You want to see that smile every day. You want to hear that laugh. You want to hear her call you a bitch. You want to go out and eat Neapolitan spaghetti with her. You want, you want, you want, you want.

You swallow hard, carefully choosing your next words. 

“I–”

She looks into your eyes expectantly. Her grip on your face grows tighter, but that can’t compare to the feeling building up inside your heart.

“I think I like you too, Ruka.”

And with that, she pulls you into a kiss, a fervent one. It’s one filled with unspoken desires. Tongues battling for dominance. Hands roaming over each other’s body frantically, afraid of losing each other. You grind your body on hers, trying to feel her as much as you can. The bathroom is filled with your moans and the sound of water, and you couldn't be happier.

“Mmmph, just like that,” she says, her hands traveling down to your ass, giving your cheeks firm squeezes. You jolt in response to her touch, as she giggles softly into the kiss.

She then pulls back from the sensual, fiery kiss to catch her breath. Both of you are panting under the flowing water, fulfilled. You see her smiling with joy, before she laughs, and you can’t help but to do that along with her.

“Bitch.”

—

[megumismyhusband]

megumi sat at his desk, his pen paused over a stack of paperwork. he stared blankly at the page, his thoughts somewhere else entirely. absentmindedly, he reached for his wedding ring, a habit of his whenever he was deep in thought. he would spin it on his finger, the subtle weight grounding him, reminding him of home.

but today, his finger was bare.

his heart dropped as the realization hit him. his ring. he’d forgotten it.

megumi’s mind raced, replaying his morning routine. he’d set it on the nightstand before his shower—he always did—but in his rush to leave, he must have forgotten to put it back on. the guilt hit him instantly, a dull ache settling in his chest.

how could he forget something so important?

the rest of his day passed in a blur of half-hearted focus. every time he looked at his hand, the absence of the ring mocked him. by the time he returned home, he’d already planned multiple ways to apologize to y/n.

as he stepped into the house, he found her in the living room, stretched out on the couch with a book in her hands. she looked up, her face lighting up with a smile that, despite his self-imposed guilt, managed to ease some of his tension.

“you’re home,” she greeted warmly, setting the book down.

“y/n,” he started, his tone heavy with regret. “I… I forgot my ring today.” he held up his left hand, his finger still bare. “I didn’t realize until I was already at work. I’m sorry. I—”

y/n tilted her head, confused, and then a small laugh bubbled from her lips. “that’s it? megumi, it’s fine. I noticed it on the nightstand this morning. I figured you’d just forgotten.”

“but—”

“no buts,” she interrupted, her voice gentle. “It’s okay. really.”

megumi wasn’t convinced. his brows knit together as he straightened. “I’ll make it up to you,” he said firmly, heading toward the kitchen before she could protest.

y/n tried to stop him, but he was already pulling out ingredients, his focus locked in on the task. she shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watched him work.

it was impossible not to find his stubborn guilt endearing.

when dinner was ready, they sat down together, and y/n couldn’t help but tease him as he nervously glanced her way after every bite.

“It’s all good, gumi,” she said with a grin. “quit worrying so much.”

later, they curled up on the couch under a cozy blanket, a movie playing softly in the background. megumi’s arm was draped around her shoulders, his fingers brushing over her arm in quiet affection.

“I’m really sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

y/n turned to him, her expression equal parts fond and exasperated. “you’ve apologized enough. you didn’t forget me, gumi. You forgot a ring. It’s okay.”

he sighed, leaning his head against hers. “I’ll never forget it again.”

she laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “you’re impossible.”

“I love you,” he murmurs. “more than anything in the world.”

[seospicybin]

THE BABYSITTER.

FINAL PART.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (s,f,a)

Chapters: Part I / Part II

Synopsis: You find a home away from home while caring for Aster, the lively son of Felix and Hyunjin and what begins as a temporary job blossoms into an unforgettable bond with a family that changes your life. But after graduation comes a difficult choice: pursue your dreams or stay with the people who’ve come to mean the world to you. (21,3k words)

Author's note: Apologize for the slight delay but here it is. Hope you enjoy it and don't hesitate to share your thoughts after reading it ♡

The living room is quiet now, except for the faint hum of the baby monitor perched on the coffee table. Aster fell asleep hours ago, his soft, even breaths a comforting rhythm you’ve grown used to hearing over the past year. You sit on the couch, knees tucked to your chest, staring out the window at the city lights twinkling in the distance. 

The weight of your decision hangs in the air like a storm cloud, refusing to dissipate. 

This place has become more than just a job. It’s a home away from home, filled with laughter, warmth, and love. Hyunjin and Felix have never treated you like an employee—they’ve made you feel like family, like you truly belong. And Aster… Aster stole your heart from the very first moment he wrapped his tiny hand around your finger. 

A faint smile tugs at your lips as you remember that moment. Aster’s first steps had been toward you, wobbling on chubby legs before falling into your arms. Hyunjin had caught it on video, and Felix’s cheers echoed in the background. The way they’d thanked you that night had left you speechless, their gratitude so genuine and overwhelming. 

Now, your degree hangs on the wall in your tiny apartment, a constant reminder of the future waiting for you. A full-time position at a company you worked so hard to impress—a chance to finally step into the life you’ve been working toward. 

So why does leaving this family feel like the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do? 

Your phone buzzes on the cushion beside you, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s a text from Felix: 

"Thank you for today. Aster adores you so much he sleep talk about you in his sleep. Sleep well!"

Your chest tightens as you read the message. It’s such a simple sentiment, but it carries so much weight. Will they send messages like this after you leave? Will Aster even remember you in a few months? 

You set the phone down and exhale slowly. Tomorrow is another day, another chance to savor these moments before you have to say goodbye. 

-

The restaurant is warm and bustling, with the hum of conversation filling the air. Felix watches Aster in his high chair, the toddler happily munching on tiny pieces of fruit while Hyunjin sips his coffee. They’ve always enjoyed these little outings—moments where they can just exist as a family, away from schedules and responsibilities. 

Felix reaches across the table to steal a fry from Hyunjin’s plate, grinning when Hyunjin playfully swats his hand away. Their quiet moment is interrupted by a cheerful voice. 

“Hyunjin! Oh my gosh, I thought that was you!” 

Felix looks up to see a woman approaching their table, her smile wide as she stops beside Hyunjin. Hyunjin’s face lights up with recognition. 

“Hey! It’s been a while,” he says warmly, standing to greet her. 

Felix immediately takes note of how she leans in, her body language overly friendly, her hand brushing Hyunjin’s arm as they exchange pleasantries. Felix sits a little straighter, glancing at Aster, who’s obliviously chewing on a cracker. 

Hyunjin gestures toward the table. “This is my husband, Felix, and our son, Aster.” 

The woman’s smile flickers briefly in Felix’s direction. “Oh, nice to meet you,” she says, her tone polite but lacking warmth. Her attention snaps back to Hyunjin almost immediately. “I had no idea you had a family now! That’s amazing. So, what have you been up to?” 

Felix bites back a sigh as she dives into conversation with Hyunjin, asking about work and reminiscing about projects they’d worked on together. Her hand lands on Hyunjin’s shoulder at one point, and Felix watches as she lightly massages it while laughing at something Hyunjin says. 

The knot in Felix’s chest tightens. 

As the conversation continues, Felix clears his throat. “Who’s your friend, Hyunjin?” His tone is calm, but there’s a sharp edge beneath the surface. 

Hyunjin glances at him, sensing the underlying tension. “Oh, sorry! Felix, this is Soojin. We used to work together back when I was at the agency. Soojin, this is my husband, Felix.” He emphasizes the word husband a little more this time. 

Soojin barely acknowledges Felix, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hyunjin was always the best at the agency,” she gushes, completely ignoring Felix’s presence. 

Felix’s jaw tightens as he looks down at his plate, his appetite fading. 

Aster suddenly reaches for Hyunjin, babbling for attention. Hyunjin smiles, picking him up from the high chair and placing him on his lap. “Looks like someone’s done with lunch,” Hyunjin says cheerfully. He glances at Soojin. “It was nice catching up, but I think we’re going to head out now. Take care, Soojin.” 

She seems surprised by the abrupt end to the conversation but quickly recovers, flashing him another bright smile. “Of course! Let’s catch up again soon!” 

Felix doesn’t say a word as they leave the restaurant, but the car ride home is heavy with unspoken tension. 

- 

The car ride home is quiet. Aster has fallen asleep in the car seat, his soft snores filling the silence. Hyunjin glances at Felix, who stares out the window, his expression unreadable.  Hyunjin doesn’t need to ask what’s wrong. He knows. 

After they get home and tuck Aster into his crib, Hyunjin finds Felix in the kitchen. He’s rinsing off dishes, his movements more methodical than usual. 

Hyunjin steps up behind him, wrapping his arms around Felix’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. Felix stiffens slightly under his touch. 

“Felix,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice teasing. “You’re mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” Felix says curtly, but the tightness in his voice gives him away. 

Hyunjin tightens his hold, pressing a soft kiss to Felix’s neck. “You’re jealous. It’s cute.” 

Felix scoffs, trying to pull away, but Hyunjin refuses to let him go. “Don’t do that,” Felix mutters. 

“Don’t do what?” Hyunjin asks innocently, trailing kisses along Felix’s jawline. 

Felix exhales sharply, clearly trying to stay annoyed, but Hyunjin knows him too well. “She touched you,” Felix finally admits, his voice quieter now. 

Hyunjin turns Felix around to face him, cupping his cheeks in his hands. “But we're married and you're my beautiful husband. You know that, right?” 

Felix doesn’t answer, his lips pressed into a stubborn line. Hyunjin leans in, kissing him softly, and Felix’s resolve starts to crumble. 

“And I love you,” Hyunjin seductively whispers against his lips, pulling him closer. 

Felix sighs, finally wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s neck. “You’re annoying,” he mumbles, but his lips curve into a smile as Hyunjin kisses him again, deeper this time. 

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he looks at him. “You should’ve seen yourself earlier. Your pout, the way you kept glaring—it was adorable.”

Felix narrows his eyes at him, his cheeks flushing. “Don’t push it.”

Hyunjin laughs, resting his forehead against Felix’s. “What? I mean it. You were so cute I almost wanted to make her stay longer just to see you pout more.”

Felix smacks his chest lightly, though his lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” Hyunjin says, grinning as he swoops in for another kiss. Felix finally gives in, melting against him, and Hyunjin feels a spark of triumph.

Hyunjin rests his forehead against Felix’s, a tender smile gracing his lips and then presses a soft, lingering kiss that melts all of Felix’s doubts away. For a moment, the rest of the world fades, leaving only the two of them in their shared space.

Five years of marriage and those are the best five years of Hyunjin’s life. He doesn’t care who he runs into or who tries to catch his attention. Nothing compares to what they have built together. Felix and his son, Aster are everything to him. They're his world.

-

The front door creaks open, and you step into the warm familiarity of Hyunjin and Felix’s home. Normally, your weekends are free now that you’ve graduated, but tonight’s an exception. Hyunjin had called you earlier in the week, his voice a mix of charm and desperation, asking if you could watch Aster while they attended a party. 

“It’s not like we get out much these days,” he’d joked, and of course, you couldn’t say no. 

As you set your bag down near the entryway, you hear muffled voices and the faint sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. You make your way toward it, expecting to find Hyunjin or Felix prepping Aster’s dinner—or maybe tidying up the chaos their energetic toddler tends to leave in his wake. 

What you don’t expect is to walk in on Hyunjin and Felix locked in a heated kiss, Hyunjin’s arms wrapped tightly around Felix’s waist, and Felix leaning into him as if he’s finally given up on staying mad. 

“Whoa!” you exclaim, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “Should I come back in half an hour?” 

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, his lips still dangerously close to Felix’s, and grins. “We can make it twenty minutes if you’re in a rush.” 

“Hyunjin!” Felix hisses, his face turning bright red as he tries to step away, but Hyunjin refuses to let him go. 

You laugh, crossing your arms as you lean against the doorframe. “Don’t let me interrupt. I’m just here for Aster, not the drama.” 

Felix finally wiggles free, shooting Hyunjin a glare that lacks any real heat. “Aster is napping,” Felix says quickly, smoothing down his shirt as if that’ll erase what you just walked in on. 

“Well, I'll just... go check on him,” you say, still chuckling as you make your way upstairs.

Behind you, you hear Hyunjin teasing Felix in a low voice. “You’re blushing. It’s adorable.” 

“Shut up, Hyunjin.” 

The soft, familiar sound of their banter follows you up the stairs, and you can’t help but smile. They’re a reminder of what a strong, loving partnership looks like—a dynamic that makes their home feel like a haven. 

Before you turn towards Aster’s room, you can’t help but glance back toward the kitchen, hearing Felix’s deep laughter echo faintly. The warmth of their family tugs at something deep inside you, making the decision you’ve been wrestling with feel even heavier. 

-

The sound of soft giggles and playful chatter echoes down the hallway as Hyunjin walking down the stairs while carrying Aster in his arms and Felix is trailing behind them, fixing the collar of his shirt.

From the kitchen, you glance over, a small smile tugging at your lips. Dinner for Aster is nearly ready as Felix has cooked it and all you have to do is reheating it in the oven. After setting the time on the oven, you wipe your hands on a towel as you make your way toward the front door.

Hyunjin and Felix are both kneeling in front of Aster, their expressions soft and adoring as they take turns pressing kisses to his cheeks. Mandu appears from behind you, not wanting to miss out on it.

“Are you sure you two are going to the party and not just staying here to kiss your son all night?” you tease, crossing your arms. 

Felix looks up at you with a playful smile. “We’d probably have more fun here, honestly.” 

Hyunjin grins, standing up after giving Mandu a quick pet and brushes his pants. “But we already RSVP’d, and Felix spent an hour convincing me to dress up, so…” 

Felix rolls his eyes then reaches for Hyunjin’s jacket to adjust it. “Oh, please. You looked for an excuse to try on five outfits before deciding.” 

You laugh, picking up Aster, who reaches for you with a delighted squeal. “Just go and have fun, you two. You deserve a night out.” 

Felix steps closer, his eyes softening. “Thank you for this, Bubba.” 

“No problem,” you say, balancing Aster on your hip. “We’ve got a big night planned, don’t we, Aster? Dinner, storytime, and maybe a movie if he doesn’t fall asleep halfway through it.” 

“Movie!” Aster cheers, clapping his hands. 

Hyunjin chuckles, ruffling his son’s hair. “Alright. You listen to Bubba, okay? Be good.” 

“Mmhmm,” Aster promises with an eager nod. 

The four of you move to the front door, where Hyunjin and Felix slip on their coats. Felix leans in one last time to kiss Aster’s forehead, his voice tender as he murmurs, “Goodnight, sweet baby. Dada will be back soon.” 

Hyunjin, standing by the door, gives you a pointed look. “Text us if anything happens, okay? We’ll keep our phones on.” 

You wave him off with a smile and assure him. “Relax, Hyunjin. We’ll be fine.” 

As Hyunjin opens the door, Felix turns to you with a small smile and gives you a last warning. “Don’t stay up late, you two!” 

You exchange a playful look with Aster and grin. “Just go. The party’s not going to wait forever.” You say, playfully hurrying them out of the door.

Hyunjin gives Aster one last wave before stepping out, Felix following close behind. As they make their way down the driveway, you and Aster stand in the doorway, waving until they disappear into the night. 

“Buhbye!” Aster calls, his tiny hand flapping enthusiastically. “Bye! Have fun!” you add, watching until the tail lights of their car fade away. 

As the quiet of the evening settles in, you close the door, turning back to the kitchen with Aster still on your hip. “Alright, monster Aster. Let’s finish getting your dinner ready.” 

Aster claps his hands again in excitement. “Dinner!” 

-

The living room is cozy, lit only by the glow of the TV screen. Aster is nestled beside you on the couch, his small frame tucked under a blanket as his eyes stay glued to the animated animals dancing across the screen. He’s holding his favorite plush bunny close, his fingers absently stroking its worn ears.

You glance at him, your heart warming at how engrossed he looks, his little mouth hanging open slightly in concentration. “You like the movie, Aster?” 

“Mmhmm,” he hums, nodding without taking his eyes off the screen. 

You smile, leaning back against the couch. Nights like this make everything feel simple, even if your thoughts keep drifting to the future—to the choices you’re avoiding making. 

As the movie continues, you notice Aster’s head starting to droop. His blinks grow slower, his grip on the bunny loosening. By the time the characters on screen are singing their big finale, his head is lolling onto your arm, his eyes barely open. 

“Sleepy, huh?” you whisper, gently sliding your arm under him to scoop him up. “Alright, then. Time for bed.” 

Aster stirs slightly but doesn’t protest, his head resting on your shoulder as you carry him to his room. The soft hum of the baby monitor sits on the bedside table, the glow of its light illuminating the room. You lower him onto his small bed, carefully tucking the blanket around him. 

As you smooth the hair from his forehead, you murmur, “Goodnight, Aster. I love you.” 

Aster’s eyes flutter open briefly, his sleepy voice piping up. “Thank you.” 

You laugh softly, crouching down beside him while continue gently brushing his hair. “That’s sweet, but when someone says ‘I love you,’ you’re supposed to say ‘I love you’ back.” 

He looks at you with his big, tired eyes, clearly not understanding. “Thank you,” he says again, his voice barely audible. 

You shake your head fondly and hold your chuckles in, brushing a hand through his soft curls, then hold it there. “You’re so special, you know that? You’re so, so special to me, Aster. I hope you always know that.” 

He yawns, turning his face into the pillow, clutching his bunny tighter. He obviously is too sleepy to respond to you.

Leaning down, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and then mutter, “Goodnight, sweet Aster.” 

You straighten up, watching him for a moment longer as his breathing evens out. Aster is already fast asleep, the innocence of childhood reflected in the peacefulness of his expression. 

As you quietly step out of the room, you pause at the doorway to glance back. Something about the scene makes your chest ache—a bittersweet kind of warmth you don’t want to let go of.

After a while, you close the door softly behind you, the weight of your looming decision settling over you once again. 

- 

The house is quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the wooden floor beneath your feet. You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing it’s still a while before Hyunjin and Felix are expected home. 

The peacefulness of the evening settles around you, but your thoughts are restless. Trying to distract yourself, you find your eyes wandering toward the small drawer in the living room. You know what’s inside—it’s something you’ve peeked at a few times before, something that always brings a smile to your face. 

With a gentle tug, you slide the drawer open and pull out the family photo album, its worn cover a testament to the love poured into it. Felix is meticulous when it comes to documenting memories, and the album is proof of that. 

You settle onto the couch, flipping open the cover. The first pages hold moments from before Aster was born: candid pictures of Hyunjin and Felix in their early dating days, a snapshot of Felix laughing with a coffee cup in hand while Hyunjin sneaks a kiss on his cheek, and another of them on a trip abroad, their faces glowing with happiness. 

The pages gradually transition into their married life—a photo of their small wedding ceremony, Felix holding Hyunjin’s hand with an expression of quiet joy. Then come the pictures of Aster: his first moments, his first steps, his first birthday. 

You smile softly, flipping through the familiar pages. It’s a scrapbook of love, warmth, and growth. But as you near the end, you notice something new—pictures you don’t remember being there before. 

The first one catches your eye immediately. It’s from Aster’s birthday last month, a candid shot of you sitting on the floor with Aster on your lap. He’s laughing, frosting smeared across his face, while you’re mid-laugh, trying to wipe his cheek with a napkin. You feel your chest tighten at the sight. 

The next picture stops you entirely. It’s the four of you, taken on your graduation day. Hyunjin is holding Aster in one arm while Felix has his arm slung over your shoulder. You’re all smiling at the camera, the happiness in the moment radiating from the photo. 

Your fingers brush over the image, a bittersweet ache settling in your chest. You’ve always known that Hyunjin and Felix treated you like family, but seeing it immortalized like this—captured and preserved in the same album as their most cherished memories—it feels overwhelming. 

You lean back into the couch, the album resting on your lap. The joy of being part of this family and the sadness of knowing you’ll soon have to leave coexist in a way that makes your heart ache. 

A small smile plays on your lips as you close the album and carefully return it to the drawer. You’ve always known that this place—these people—meant so much to you. But seeing these pictures is a reminder of just how deeply you’ve become intertwined with their lives, and how hard it will be to say goodbye. 

-

The soft click of the front door opening pulls your attention from the quiet hum of the living room. You turn your head to see Hyunjin and Felix step inside, Felix slipping off his shoes with practiced ease while Hyunjin gently shrugs off his coat. 

“Hey,” you softly greet, standing up from the couch. “How was the party?” 

Felix smiles, looking a little tired but content. “It was nice. Good food, good company. But I think we both missed Aster more than anything.” 

Hyunjin chuckles as he drapes his coat over the arm of a chair and looks at you. “Felix spent half the night showing pictures of him to anyone who would look.” 

Felix rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it. “You’re one to talk. You spent twenty minutes describing how Aster says ‘goodnight’ in his little sleepy voice.” 

“Well, your son is adorable, so I can’t blame you,” you say with a soft laugh and then pick up your phone from the coffee table. “Anyway, I should get going. Aster’s asleep, and everything’s all tidied up.” 

Hyunjin steps forward, raising a hand in protest. “It’s late. I’ll give you a ride home.” 

You sling your bag over your shoulder, shaking your head with a teasing smile. “Are you even sober enough to drive, Hyunjin? Should I be worried?” 

Hyunjin scoffs in disbelief and as he looks at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, you doubt me? Fine. Sobriety test. Let’s go.” 

Felix sighs, leaning against the kitchen counter with a tired smile and a glass of water in one hand. “Here we go.” 

Hyunjin dramatically stands up straight, lifting one leg and holding out his arms like he’s about to perform a circus act. “See this balance? Flawless.” 

You cross your arms, trying to stifle a laugh. “Very impressive. What’s next?” 

Hyunjin points to his nose and taps it with exaggerated precision. “Coordination? Check.” He spins in a circle, narrowly avoiding tripping over his own feet but recovering with flair. “I’m basically the gold standard of sober drivers.” 

Felix snickers from the kitchen and jokingly mutters, “You’re ridiculous.” 

“Ridiculously sober,” Hyunjin counters, turning back to you with a triumphant grin. “So, can I drive you home now?” 

You roll your eyes but can’t help laughing. “Fine, fine. You win. Goodnight, Felix.” 

Felix steps closer, giving you a warm smile. “Goodnight. Thanks you for today!” 

“No problem. He was an angel as always.” 

You step outside with Hyunjin, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you walk to the car. Once inside, the quiet hum of the engine fills the space as Hyunjin starts driving through the dimly lit streets. 

For a while, neither of you speak, the silence comfortable. Then Hyunjin clears his throat, glancing at you briefly. “So… The TV station is looking for a set designer. I think you’d be amazing at it.” 

You glance over at him, surprised. “Set designer?” 

“Yeah,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road. “It’s a good position. Stable hours, good pay. And it’s local, so you wouldn’t have to move away.” 

You chew on your lip, his words stirring the familiar ache of indecision. “That’s… really thoughtful, Hyunjin. Thank you. I’ll think about it.” 

He nods, his tone casual but his concern evident. “Just don’t rush into anything, okay? You’ve got people here who care about you.” 

You look out the window, the city lights blurring into streaks as the car moves through the streets. “I know,” you say softly. 

When the car pulls up in front of your building, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to him with a small smile. “Thanks for the ride, Hyunjin. And for… everything.” 

He offers a warm smile in return. “Anytime. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” you say before stepping out of the car. 

As you walk toward your door, you glance back to see Hyunjin waiting until you’re safely inside. You give him a small wave, which he returns before driving off into the night. 

-

For these past couple of moments, Aster has been obsessed with tee ball and it shows. The moment breakfast is over, he drags the small set from the corner of the living room out onto the front yard. You follow him, holding his tiny bat as he hurries you to come along.

“Come on, Bubba. Let's play!”

You set the tee in place and placing the ball on top, looking at him as you say, “Okay. Show me what you’ve got.” 

Aster puffs out his chest proudly, gripping the bat with a determination that makes you smile. He takes his stance, wiggles a bit for balance, and then swings with all his might. The ball sails a few feet before rolling into the grass and Mandu eagerly chases after it.

“I hit it! Did you see?” he shouts, spinning around to face you with wide eyes. 

“I saw! That was amazing!” you cheer, clapping your hands. 

This becomes the rhythm of the morning. Aster adjusts the ball, calls for your attention, and swings, whether the bat connects or not. You cheer for every attempt, your laughter mingling with his giggles. 

“Aster, slow down or you’re going to tire yourself out,” you call after his fifth enthusiastic swing. 

“I don’t want to slow down!” he replies, his voice full of childish defiance as he sets up the ball again. 

“Hey, future MVP,” a familiar voice calls from across the street. 

You glance up to see Jeongin crossing the road, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. He grins as he approaches, nodding toward Aster.

“Aster’s got a good arm.” 

“He’s been practicing nonstop,” you say, scooting over on the grass to make room for him to sit. 

Jeongin plops down beside you, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Good morning to you, too,” he teases. 

You softly laugh as you glance at him. “Morning, Jeongin.” 

He leans back on his hands, glancing at Aster as the little boy prepares for another swing. “So I... I wanted to see if you’d like to come to a party tomorrow night. Just a small thing with a few of my friends.” 

Before you can answer, Aster’s voice cuts through the conversation, demanding for your attention. “Bubba, watch me! Watch me!” 

You immediately turn your attention to him as he swings again, missing the ball entirely. 

“Almost! Try again,” you encourage, smiling as Aster stubbornly resets the ball. 

Jeongin chuckles, waiting for a break in Aster’s demands before continue talking. “Anyway, no pressure, but it could be fun. Food, drinks, some music. What do you think?” 

“Hold on,” you mutter as Aster calls out for you to watch again. He swings and connects this time, the ball rolling a bit farther than before. 

“Nice one, Aster!” you cheer, clapping as he does a little victory dance. 

Jeongin leans closer to your side, smirking. “You’re really good at multitasking, you know that?” 

You snort, finally turning back to him. “Okay, fine. I’ll go. Just let me know what time.” 

“Great!” He says, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. “You won’t regret it. I promise.” 

“You'd better keep your words then,” You say with a sly smile and playfully bump his shoulder with yours.

A smile rises on Jeongin’s face and the dimples sunken deep into his cheeks. He holds your gaze for a bit before looking away. “Aster, can I try?” 

Aster looks at him in confusion then lets go of the bat. “Okay.” 

Jeongin gets up from the grass as Aster walks up to you, you immediately offer him his water tumbler. The two of you watch as Jeongin takes the bat, adjusts the tee, and lines up his swing like a pro. The moment he swings, the bat misses entirely, slicing through the air. The ball doesn’t budge. 

Aster breaks into laughter, spilling some water out of his mouth. “You’re terrible!” 

“Hey, no need to be mean,” Jeongin says, pretending to be offended. He tries again, with the same result. Aster doubles over in laughter, his joy infectious. 

You can’t help but laugh along, shaking your head at Jeongin’s poor attempt. “Maybe stick to being a spectator,” you tease. 

Jeongin hands the bat back to Aster with a sheepish grin. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave it to the experts.” 

Aster beams, holding the bat like it’s a trophy. “I’m the best!” “You definitely are,” Jeongin agrees, ruffling Aster’s hair before sitting back down beside you. 

As Aster returns to his game, you glance over at Jeongin, his smile easy and warm. For a moment, you’re reminded of how nice it is to have moments like this—simple and carefree.

“I'll see you tomorrow night then,” He says while brushing the back of his jeans.

“You gave up on tee ball already?” You joke, flashing a sly smile at him.

“I don’t want to keep embarrassing myself in front of you,” He says with a shy smile and a subtle shrug, the dimples appearing again.

You smile at that and nod, “Okay. See you tomorrow night.” 

After a few more rounds of tee ball, Aster finally starts to tire. His swings lose their usual gusto, and he yawns while dragging his little bat behind him. 

“Enough for today. Let’s head inside,” you say, gathering the tee and ball. “You need a snack after all that hard work.” 

Aster nods, rubbing his eyes as he follows you back into the house. The warm aroma of something sweet greets you as you step inside, and you hear Felix humming in the kitchen. 

“Perfect timing!” Felix says, turning from the counter with a proud smile. “Key lime pie, fresh out of the oven.” 

“Pie!” Aster exclaims, suddenly re-energized. He races to the dining table and climbs into his seat, his earlier exhaustion forgotten. 

Felix laughs, slicing a piece and placing it on a plate for you. “This one’s for you. Tell me if it’s as good as last time.” 

“Better not disappoint,” you tease, accepting the plate and taking a seat beside Aster. The first bite melts in your mouth, tangy and sweet with just the right amount of tartness. 

“It’s perfect, Felix,” you say, savoring another forkful. 

Felix beams, pulling up a chair with his own slice. “Glad to hear it.” 

As Aster munches on some fruits and cheese next to you, Felix leans forward, his expression turning curious. “By the way, I saw Jeongin earlier.” 

You glance up from your pie. “Yeah. He came by while we were outside playing tee ball.” 

Felix’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “And? What did he want?” 

You take another bite, chewing thoughtfully before answering. “He invited me to a party tomorrow night. I said yes.” 

Felix’s brows lift slightly, and a playful smile tugs at his lips. “A party, huh? Jeongin doesn’t waste time, does he?” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s not like that. We’re just friends. I promise.” 

Felix leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as if assessing your words. “Just friends?” 

“Just friends,” you assure him, setting down your fork. “I decided it’s best that way since I'll be leaving soon. No point in starting something I can’t commit to.” 

Felix studies you for a moment, then nods, his expression softening. “Fair enough. Jeongin’s a good kid, but still.” 

You smile, touched by his concern. “So, is it alright if I leave a little early tomorrow for the party?” 

“Of course,” Felix says, waving off the question like it’s nothing. “We’ll manage just fine. But promise me you’ll let loose a little and have fun.” 

“I will,” you reply, finishing the last bite of your pie. 

- 

Felix lies on his side, staring at the faint shadows dancing on the bedroom wall. The house is quiet now, save for the soft rustle of sheets as Hyunjin turns to face him. Felix feels Hyunjin’s arm drape over his waist, pulling him closer. 

Hyunjin places a soft kiss on his neck and with his voice low and laced with concern, he asks, “What’s on your mind?” 

Felix exhales, his gaze still fixed ahead but his hand reaches for Hyunjin’s. “I talked to her earlier. She said Jeongin invited her to a party, and she’s going.” 

“Jeongin? The neighbor across the street?” Hyunjin asks, propping himself up on one elbow. “What’s wrong with that? She deserves some fun.” 

Felix shakes his head. “It’s not the party. It’s... what she said after.” 

Hyunjin stays quiet and stares at Felix as he's waiting for him to continue. 

“She said she’s leaving soon. It just... hit me again. She’s really going,” Felix says, his voice softening as the weight of his thoughts presses down on him. “I keep thinking about how we’ll manage without her.” 

Hyunjin’s arms tighten around him, his warmth grounding Felix as he speaks. “I know. It’s hard to imagine her not being here.” 

Felix’s mind drifts to moments that made you irreplaceable: the nights you stayed late to comfort a teething Aster when Felix and Hyunjin were too exhausted to move; the mornings you showed up early with fresh coffee and a bright smile; the way you knew exactly how to calm Aster’s tantrums, even when Felix couldn’t. 

“She’s done so much for us,” Felix murmurs as he squeezes Hyunjin’s hand. “It’s not just about the babysitting. She cares about Aster, about us, like we’re her own family. How do we replace that?” 

Hyunjin runs a hand gently through Felix’s hair and places a soft kiss after. “We don’t. And we shouldn’t try to.” 

“I know,” Felix says, his voice cracking slightly. “That’s why it’s so hard to let her go. Aster’s going to notice she’s not around. He’s so attached to her.” 

Hyunjin presses a kiss to the back of Felix’s head as a way to comfort him. “We’ll get through it, together. And we’ll make sure Aster knows she still loves him, even if she’s not here every day.” 

Felix closes his eyes, swallowing hard. For a fleeting moment, he considers the possibility of asking you to stay—of offering something, anything, to keep you with them. But he knows it wouldn’t be fair. You have dreams, goals, and a life of your own waiting for you. 

“I thought about asking her to stay,” Felix admits after a long silence. “But I can’t. It’s not right to hold her back.” 

Hyunjin’s hand moves to Felix’s cheek, turning his face so their eyes meet. “You’re doing the right thing, baby. You’ve always been the one to put others before yourself. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you.” 

Felix manages a small smile, his heart aching even as Hyunjin’s words bring him comfort. “I just hope she knows how much she means to us. To me.” 

“She does,” Hyunjin says firmly. “There’s no way she doesn’t.” 

Felix leans into Hyunjin’s touch, letting the quiet reassurance wash over him. He doesn’t have all the answers, but with Hyunjin by his side, he feels strong enough to face what’s coming.

-

The kitchen is alive with the warm hum of activity. Felix adjusts the camera one last time, ensuring the angle perfectly captures the countertop where Aster stands on a sturdy step stool. His son’s tiny hands grip the edge of the counter as he bounces on his toes, excitement bubbling over.

“You ready, Aster?” Felix asks, his signature bright smile lighting up his face.

“I'm so excited!” Aster chirps, clapping his hands together.

You’re stationed behind the main camera, already recording, as Felix presses the timer on his phone to keep track of the video. He turns to Aster, holding up the first bowl of ingredients.

“Alright, say hi to everyone, Aster,” Felix says, his tone encouraging.

Aster waves enthusiastically at the camera. “Hi! We’re making... spaghetti meatballs!” His pronunciation of “meatballs” comes out slightly jumbled, and Felix chuckles, ruffling his hair.

“That’s right, baby,” Felix says. “Now, let’s show everyone what we need.” He glances at you briefly to check if the filming is going smoothly.

“Perfect,” you mouth at him while giving a thumbs-up.

Aster carefully picks up a small bowl of breadcrumbs, holding it high for the camera. “This is crumbs!”

Felix gently takes the bowl and sets it on the counter. “Breadcrumbs, good job, Aster. And what’s this?” He holds up an egg.

“Eggie!” Aster says proudly.

“Very good,” Felix says, his voice warm and encouraging. He turns to the camera. “We’re starting with the meatballs today. I’ve already prepped everything, so Aster just has to help me mix it all together.”

He grabs a large mixing bowl, placing it in front of Aster. Felix pours in the ground beef and hands Aster the bowl of breadcrumbs. “Okay, dump that in.”

Aster carefully tips the bowl, his little tongue poking out in concentration as he watches the breadcrumbs scatter over the meat.

Aster triumphantly claps his tiny hands. “I did it, dada!”

With a proud smile, Felix cheers him on. “Perfect! You’re a natural, Aster.”

One by one, Felix helps Aster add the egg, Parmesan cheese, minced garlic, and seasoning to the bowl. The boy’s tiny hands eagerly stir the mixture with a wooden spoon, though it’s clear the effort is a bit much for him.

“Need some help?” Felix asks, stepping in to guide Aster’s hands as they mix together. “There you go. Good job, baby!”

Aster grins up at him. “I’m doing it, Daddy!”

“You are,” Felix says, his heart swelling at the sight of his son’s joy.

You can’t help but laugh softly from behind the camera. “He’s a little chef in the making.”

Felix glances your way, catching your smile, and feels a rush of gratitude for moments like this. “He’s the best assistant I’ve ever had.”

The rest of the process is filled with Aster’s excited commentary as Felix shapes the meatballs and lines them on a baking tray. Once they’re in the oven, Felix shifts the focus to prepping the pasta, showing Aster how to carefully measure the noodles and explaining how they’ll boil them soon.

“Okay, Aster, what do we say to everyone watching at home?” Felix asks as they wrap up the video.

“Thank you for watching!” Aster says, waving at the camera again.

“And don’t forget to—” Felix prompts.

“Like and ’scribe!” Aster finishes with a giggle.

Felix scoops him up, pressing a kiss to his cheek as the camera clicks off. “That’s my baby.”

You lower the camera and grin. “This is going to be everyone’s new favorite video of you two.”

Felix chuckles, setting Aster down and watching as he runs off, already proclaiming he’s going to Hyunjin about the spaghetti meatballs.

The kitchen is finally quiet after the filming chaos, though the warm, lingering scent of baked meatballs fills the air. Felix is wiping down the counter as you approach him, still holding the camera.

“Alright, I think we're all set,” you say, carefully placing the camera on the counter. “Thanks for letting me leave early today.”

Felix looks up with a grin, his usual playful glint in his eyes. “No problem. You deserve a little fun. Just don’t forget—safe sex is key.”

You roll your eyes, groaning. “Felix, I swear—”

“Hey, it’s my duty as the responsible adult here,” he teases, raising his hands in mock surrender.

You shake your head, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

As you turn to grab your bag, Aster bounds into the room, still brimming with energy despite the day’s excitement. “Where you going, Bubba?” he asks, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You crouch down to his level, ruffling his hair. “Sorry, Aster but Bubba has to go now, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Aster nods, wrapping his small arms around your neck. “Bye-bye!”

“Bye-bye, Monster Aster,” you say softly, giving him a quick hug before surprise him with a tickle on his belly.

Felix steps closer and then crosses his arms in front of him. “And no hug for me?” he asks, mock-pouting.

With a laugh, you roll your eyes again but step forward to give him a quick hug. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Felix replies, his grin widening. As you pull away, he leans in conspiratorially. “Need me to grab you some extra condoms before you go?”

You groan loudly this time, throwing your head back. “Felix!” He bursts out laughing and Aster, despite not understanding the joke, also laughing. Felix waves a hand dismissively and says, “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. But seriously, have fun, okay?”

You grab your bag and head for the door, looking back with a playful glare. “Thanks for the talk, Dad.”

Felix grins at you from the kitchen. “Don't drink and drive!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, stepping outside.

The door closes behind you, and Felix watches through the window as you walk down the path to the street. A faint breeze catches your hair, and you pull your bag higher on your shoulder. He doesn’t move until you’re out of sight, a bittersweet ache settling in his chest.

How many times had he watched you come and go, not thinking much of it? But now, each goodbye felt heavier, knowing soon it might be the last.

Felix takes a deep breath and turns back to the kitchen, but his movements are slower, weighed down by the thought of your absence.

“Why does it feel like we’re already saying goodbye?” he murmurs to himself, brushing a hand over the clean counter. -

The house is alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. It’s been ages since you’ve been to a party like this—too many nights spent in front of textbooks or rushing to meet deadlines. The atmosphere feels electric, the kind of energy that seeps into your veins and reminds you what it’s like to be young and carefree.

Jeongin is by your side, as he’s been all night, effortlessly charming everyone in his orbit. He’s the perfect guide through the chaos, introducing you to friends, making jokes, and ensuring your glass is never empty. He even dances with you in the living room when someone cranks up the music, spinning you around until you’re laughing so hard your stomach hurts.

“See?” Jeongin says, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music. “Told you this would be fun.”

“It is,” you admit, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “I think I forgot how to have fun for a while.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m an expert at it,” he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling under the dim party lights.

You roll your eyes playfully, but the warmth in his expression makes your chest tighten just a little. You’ve told him countless times that you and he would never be more than friends, but Jeongin’s persistence is relentless tonight.

When the music slows down for a softer song, Jeongin pulls you toward the couch, where the two of you sink into the plush cushions. He drapes an arm across the backrest, his body angled toward you.

“You know,” he begins, his voice quieter now, almost drowned out by the distant chatter, “you work too hard. Someone needs to remind you to enjoy life.”

“I enjoy life just fine,” you counter, giving him a pointed look. “Do you?” His gaze flickers over you, lingering just long enough to make you feel self-conscious. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you spend too much time worrying about everyone else and not enough time letting loose.”

“Jeongin…” you sigh, trying to keep your tone firm. “We’ve talked about this.”

“We have,” he agrees, nodding. “But you’re here now, and I’m just saying… what’s the harm in enjoying the moment?”

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can, he leans in a little closer. “You deserve someone who makes you feel alive,” he murmurs.

The intensity in his eyes catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. You’ve been so focused on your responsibilities, your future, and your goodbyes that you hadn’t let yourself feel anything else. But now, with Jeongin so close, his words tugging at something deep inside you, the temptation becomes harder to ignore.

“Jeongin,” you whisper, unsure whether it’s meant to be a protest or an invitation.

He takes it as the latter. Before you can second-guess yourself, his lips brush against yours, tentative but insistent. For a moment, you freeze. This is wrong, isn’t it? You’ve told him before, so many times… But then your resolve melts under the warmth of his kiss, and all the weight you’ve been carrying slips away, just for a little while.

You kiss him back.

The noise of the party fades, leaving only the rush of blood in your ears and the faint hum of Jeongin’s voice when he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours.

“See?” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours. “Feels good to let go, doesn’t it?”

You don’t answer, your heart racing too fast to think straight. For once, you let the moment speak for itself and kiss him again.

-

Hyunjin steps into the house, greeted by the inviting aroma of garlic and tomatoes. Dinner is already set on the table, the soft hum of Felix’s playlist playing in the background. He smiles as he walks into the kitchen, spotting Felix tidying up the counter.

Seeing Hyunjin, Mandu runs and starts circling around his feet, barking and asking to be pet. He crouches down to pick the fluffy dog in one arm and continues his walk to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Hyunjin greets, stepping closer. Felix turns around just in time to meet him, and Hyunjin leans in for a kiss.

“Dinner’s ready,” Felix says, his tone light but his smile doesn’t fully reach his eyes. Hyunjin notices, but he doesn’t press him yet.

He makes his way to the dining table, where Aster is already seated, practically face-first in his bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. The sauce is smeared across his cheeks, and Hyunjin chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his son’s head.

“Enjoying that, bub?” Hyunjin asks.

Aster looks up, grinning with his sauce-covered face. “Uh-huh. It's yummy!”

Hyunjin takes his seat across from Felix, who brings over a glass of water for him before sitting down. The dinner feels warm and familiar, but Hyunjin can’t shake the feeling that something is off. Felix is quiet—too quiet. He keeps fidgeting, his fingers playing with the edge of the tablecloth, his gaze distant even as he smiles at Aster’s antics.

After dinner, Felix takes Aster upstairs to put him to bed while Hyunjin stays behind, tidying up and preparing drinks for the two of them. He opts for martinis tonight—Felix’s favorite—and brings them to the living room.

When Felix comes down, he looks a little more at ease, but Hyunjin knows better. “Martini for my beautiful, hardworking husband.” He announces with a rather dramatic tone.

“Thank you, love.” Felix mutters his gratitude then sits next to him on the sofa, snuggling close as he takes his martini. Hyunjin wraps an arm around him, pulling him in and giving him the comfort he needs.

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence, sipping their drinks and enjoying the quiet. But Hyunjin can feel the weight of Felix’s thoughts pressing down on him, even without words.

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?” Hyunjin asks gently, breaking the silence.

Felix looks up at him, his lips pressed into a thin line. He sighs, nodding. “Yeah. I can’t stop.”

Hyunjin leans his head against Felix’s, his voice soft but steady. “What’s worrying you the most?”

Felix hesitates, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Everything,” he admits. “How we’ll... How Aster will handle it. He’s so attached to her, Hyunjin. I don’t know how he’ll understand it when she’s gone.”

Hyunjin listens, his hand moving in soothing circles on Felix’s back. “I know. I’ve been thinking about it too.”

Felix leans into his touch, his voice quieter now. “I know that it's selfish, but part of me wants to ask her to stay.”

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, just enough to meet Felix’s gaze. “You know she’d do it if you asked,” he says carefully. “But would that really be fair to her?”

Felix shakes his head, a small, bitter laugh escaping him. “No. It wouldn’t.”

Hyunjin smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Felix’s temple. “Then maybe we should talk to her. All three of us. Have a dinner together, lay everything out. Let her know how much she means to us, but also let her make the choice that’s best for her.”

Felix considers this, his eyes searching Hyunjin’s for reassurance. Finally, he nods. “Okay. Let’s do that.”

Hyunjin squeezes him gently, his voice warm and reassuring. “No matter what happens, it’s going to be alright. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”

Felix exhales, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as he leans into Hyunjin’s embrace.

“Thank you,” he murmurs as he looks at him, his eyes filled with fondness and gratitude.

Hyunjin smiles before placing a quick peck on Felix’s lips. “Always.”

-

The moment you both stumble into Jeongin’s house, his lips are on yours again before you can even think, his hands settling firmly on your waist as he pulls you closer. The warmth of his touch and the way he kisses you—like he’s been waiting for this moment forever—sends shivers down your spine.

It’s reckless, impulsive, completely unlike you. But that’s precisely why you don’t stop him. For once, you let yourself surrender to something without overanalyzing, and the sensation is intoxicating.

Jeongin tilts his head, deepening the kiss as his fingers trace lazy, intricate patterns along your sides. In the quiet dark of his room, it’s just the two of you, lost in this heated, stolen moment.

When your gaze briefly sweeps over him, the sight steals the air from your lungs. His toned frame, his muscles perfectly defined, seem almost divine—crafted as if by the hands of the Greek gods themselves.

But it’s his hands that undo you entirely. Big, calloused, and tireless, they roam your body as if he’s committing every inch of you to memory. His lips follow close behind, leaving a searing trail of kisses that make your skin burn with desire.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispers against the curve of your neck before pressing a tender kiss there, his breath warm and tantalizing.

He’s everywhere, his touch, his mouth, his very presence enveloping you. His fingers slide between your thighs, skillfully finding their way inside you. He pumps them steadily, a rhythm that makes you squirm and writhe under him.

Between kisses along your inner thighs, Jeongin murmurs words like a prayer, sweet and reverent. “So wet. So tight.” His voice is low, almost worshipful, as he continues to draw every ounce of pleasure from you.

Jeongin’s words send a rush of heat through you, and your breath comes in shallow gasps as his fingers keep working their magic. His name slips from your lips like a plea, a sound that seems to spur him on. His eyes, dark and hungry, meet yours as he leans back up, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that feels equal parts tender and desperate.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough yet soothing, like velvet edged with steel.

Your hands find his shoulders, fingers curling against his warm skin as you pull him closer, letting your body speak where words fail. He seems to understand, shifting his weight to press himself against you, the heat and hardness of him sending another shiver down your spine.

Jeongin’s lips leave yours to travel down your neck, his kisses softer now, more deliberate as if savoring the taste of your skin. His free hand strokes your side, fingers ghosting over the curve of your hip before gripping your thigh to hitch your leg around his waist. The movement aligns your bodies perfectly, and a soft gasp escapes you at the sheer intimacy of it.

“You drive me crazy,” he breathes, his forehead resting against yours for a moment as if grounding himself. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your flushed skin as he gazes down at you with an intensity that steals your breath.

You don’t get a chance to respond before his lips claim yours again, his movements growing bolder, more insistent. Every touch, every kiss, feels like a promise, unspoken but understood, and you can’t help but surrender completely to him.

Time seems to blur, the world outside his room fading away as Jeongin focuses solely on you—on unraveling you, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the two of you tangled together in the heat of the moment.

His name falls from your lips again, a soft cry that has him groaning in response, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of conviction. “I’ll take care of you.”

The weight of his words, the sincerity in his tone, settles over you like a warm embrace, leaving you feeling utterly seen and cherished. Whatever comes next, you know you’ll let him take you there, trusting him completely in this shared moment of passion and vulnerability.

Jeongin’s gasp of surprise turns into a low groan as you take control, shifting your positions until you’re straddling him. His hands instinctively find your hips, steadying you as you begin to move against him with purpose.

His fox-like eyes are locked on you, dark and filled with an intoxicating mix of admiration and desire. The way you command the moment has him utterly captivated, his lips parting slightly as he struggles to keep his composure. “Oh, you’re incredible,” he breathes, his voice rough with need.

You smirk down at him, rolling your hips in a way that pulls a guttural moan from his lips. His grip on your hips tightens, and the tension between you coils tighter with every deliberate movement. The way he watches you—eyes tracing every inch of your body, drinking in the sight of you—sends a fresh wave of heat surging through you.

The rhythm you set drives you both closer to the edge, his hands and lips occasionally breaking their reverence to guide or encourage you further. You lean forward, pressing your palms against his chest for balance, and the shift draws a new angle that makes Jeongin lose himself completely.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his voice shaking slightly. The sight of you, the feel of you, the sound of your breathless moans—it’s all too much.

Your shared high crashes over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and breathless. Jeongin’s grip on you tightens as he rides out the moment with you, his name tumbling from your lips in a soft, desperate cry.

When the pleasure finally subsides, you collapse against him, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as if afraid to let you go. His fingers trace lazy, comforting circles on your back, grounding you both in the afterglow.

For a long moment, neither of you says anything, content to stay wrapped in each other’s warmth. When Jeongin finally gathers his senses, he tilts his head to look at you, his expression softer now, curiosity flickering in his gaze.

“Wait,” he murmurs, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Are you really haven’t dated in years?”

You nod, still catching your breath, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Why? What’s that look for?”

Jeongin chuckles, the sound low and infectious as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Because you’re way too good at this for someone out of practice,” he teases, his tone warm and slightly incredulous.

You laugh softly, swatting at his chest. “Guess I’ve still got it, then.”

He leans up, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, one that’s less about passion and more about the connection you’ve just shared. “More than just ‘got it,’” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re amazing.”

But then, reality starts to creep in, breaking through the haze of pleasure and emotion. You pull back, breathless and flushed, your hands instinctively resting on his chest to create some distance.

“Jeongin,” you say softly, looking up at him.

He meets your gaze, his eyes shining with something unspoken, but you steel yourself against it.

“This…” you gesture vaguely between the two of you, “this doesn’t mean anything, okay? You can’t—don’t catch feelings from this.”

He blinks, taken aback for a moment, but then he breaks into a wry smile. “Catch feelings? You think I’m that easy?”

“I’m serious,” you insist, though his teasing tone makes it harder to stay firm. “This was just… in the moment. That’s all.”

Jeongin studies you for a second, then shrugs, leaning back with a smirk that’s too self-assured for his own good. “Fine. No feelings,” he says. “I can handle that.”

You narrow your eyes, searching his face for any hint of deception, but he just grins at you like he always does, as if this is all a game to him.

Satisfied, you let out a small breath of relief. “Good. Because the last thing I need right now is… complications.”

Jeongin raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push the matter further. Instead, he reaches out and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You know, for someone who’s always so serious, you’re pretty fun when you let loose.”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. “Thanks, I guess.”

“No, really,” he says, his tone softening slightly. “I’m glad you came tonight. I wanted you to remember what it’s like to just… have fun.”

You glance away, his words hitting closer to home than you expected. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “I think I needed this.”

He flashes you a triumphant grin. “Well, anytime you need someone to help you unwind, you know where to find me.”

You shake your head with a laugh, pushing him playfully. “Don’t push your luck.”

As you rise on the bed, you pause, turning to him one last time. “Thanks, Jeongin. For tonight. It reminded me of… what I’ve been missing.”

He smiles, a softer, more genuine one this time. “Anytime.”

-

It’s mid-morning, and the sunlight filters softly through the curtains as you sit cross-legged on the floor with Aster in front of you. His hair, soft and slightly wavy like Hyunjin’s, is sticking out in every direction after his post-breakfast antics.

"Alright, mister," you say, holding up the small hairbrush. "Let’s tame this wild mane of yours before we head out."

Aster grins up at you, his little legs swinging excitedly. “Okay, Bubba!”

You laugh at his cute nose scrunch, starting to brush through his hair. It’s going smoothly at first, until the brush slips from your hand and lands lightly on his head with a soft thud.

Aster’s eyes widen in surprise for a moment, but then he bursts into giggles, holding his belly as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

“Oops!” you say, unable to help but laugh along with him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!”

“Do it again, Bubba!” he says between giggles, his hands clapping together in delight.

“Do it again?” you repeat, feigning shock. “What kind of babysitter drops a hairbrush on purpose?”

“You!” Aster declares, pointing at you with a triumphant grin and bursts into another wave of giggles.

Shaking your head with a playful sigh, you pick up the brush again and give his hair a light tap, making him giggle even more.

“You’re such a goofball,” you say, ruffling his hair.

Once his laughter dies down, you resume brushing. “So... what kind of hairstyle are we going for today?” you ask. “Something fancy? Something cool?”

Aster tilts his head thoughtfully, then his face lights up. “Like Daddy’s!” he says confidently.

“Like Daddy’s?” you echo, thinking of Hyunjin’s signature tied-back look. “Are you sure? That’s pretty fancy for someone who spends most of his time chasing after balls and dinosaurs.”

“Yes!” Aster says, his voice firm. “I want it like Daddy’s! Please!”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” you reply, smiling as you reach for the small elastic bands Felix always keeps handy.

You work carefully, gathering the soft strands of Aster’s hair into a tiny ponytail at the back of his head. It’s a little uneven, but when you’re done, Aster hops up and runs to the mirror.

“I look like Daddy!” he announces proudly, turning his head this way and that.

“You sure do,” you say, admiring your handiwork.

Aster laughs, running back to you for a hug. “Thank you, Bubba!”

“Anytime, my little guy,” you reply, squeezing him tightly.

As you gather your things to head out, you can’t help but smile at Aster’s excitement. It’s these little moments—his giggles, his endless enthusiasm, his admiration for his parents—that make your decision to leave so much harder.

-

Later at the grocery store, Aster sits happily in the trolley you’re pushing, occasionally reaching out to grab at items on the shelves. Felix walks slightly ahead of you, scanning his shopping list as he tosses a bag of flour and some sugar into the trolley.

“So...” Felix says casually, glancing back at you with a sly grin. “How was the party last night? Did you have fun?”

“It was nice,” you reply, keeping your tone light.

Felix raises an eyebrow, clearly fishing for more. “Nice, huh? That’s it? You sure you didn’t do something else after?”

You stop the trolley for a moment, narrowing your eyes at him. “Felix.”

“What?” he says, feigning innocence. “I’m just curious!”

You roll your eyes, moving the trolley forward again. “Nothing happened, okay?”

Felix smirks but doesn’t drop it. “You and Jeongin looked pretty cute together, though. I mean, the height difference alone—”

“Felix,” you interrupt, shooting him a pointed look. “For the last time, Jeongin and I are just friends. That’s it.”

Felix hums, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, sure,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “But if you ever need advice about how to navigate the just friends thing, I’m here. I’ve got years of experience with people trying to friend-zone me.”

You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Felix grins, grabbing a jar of vanilla extract from the shelf and tossing it into the trolley. “I'll take that as a compliment,” he says with a wink.

You shake your head, trying not to smile as you continue down the aisle. Aster giggles from his seat in the trolley, clearly amused by the banter.

-

Felix hums softly to himself as he chops vegetables for dinner, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board blending with the cheerful melody drifting in from the living room. Your voice harmonizes with Aster’s high-pitched singing, the two of you belting out his favorite song as you build a tower of blocks together on the carpeted floor.

“Higher, Aster!” you encourage, holding up another block.

Aster giggles, his small hands carefully placing the piece at the top. “We did it, Bubba!” he exclaims, clapping his hands.

Felix pauses mid-chop, his gaze drawn to the scene unfolding in the living room. Leaning against the counter, he watches quietly, a fond smile spreading across his face. You’re crouched next to Aster, laughing with him as the tower wobbles precariously before tumbling down. Aster shrieks with delight, clapping his hands while you fall back onto the carpet in mock despair, both of you dissolving into laughter.

It’s moments like this, Felix thinks, that make it so hard to let you go. You’ve become such an integral part of their lives—someone Aster adores and someone Felix trusts implicitly.

He feels his chest tighten but shakes the feeling away, clearing his throat. “You two sound like you’re ready for a duet,” he calls out, trying to keep his tone light.

You glance up, catching Felix watching, and flash him a grin. “You’re just jealous of our vocal chemistry,” you tease.

Felix laughs, walking over to lean against the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “Guilty as charged,” he says, his gaze soft as he looks between you and Aster.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you—this weekend, Aster’s staying with his grandparents.”

You raise an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? Big plans?”

Felix nods and holds your gaze as he tells you his intention. “Hyunjin and I were thinking of having a dinner at home, and we’d love for you to join us. You know, just the three of us.”

You know what it means by that. You don't take a long time to make a decision, you nod without hesitation and say, “I’d love to.”

Felix’s chest feels a little lighter at your quick response. He claps his hands together, feigning a serious expression. “Great. And don’t worry, we won’t make you sing for your supper. Unless Aster insists.”

Aster looks up from the blocks, tilting his head. “Sing?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Maybe next time because it's time to dance now.”

Felix watches as you help Aster getting up and together, you start dancing to Aster’s favorite cartoon song. Both of your laughter filling the room once more and despite the bittersweet weight in his heart, he can’t help but feel grateful for this moment, for you, and for the time they still have together.

-

The taxi pulls away from the curb as you adjust your dress, suddenly feeling the weight of the evening pressing on your shoulders. Felix’s house looms ahead, familiar yet daunting, its porch light casting a soft glow over the pathway. Taking a deep breath, you smooth your dress one last time and start toward the front door.

“Wow, looking fancy tonight,” a familiar voice calls out.

You glance to your left and spot Jeongin, Felix’s neighbor, leaning casually against the fence separating their yards. His smile is wide, curious, and just a little teasing.

“Hey, Jeongin,” you greet, feeling a slight blush creep up your cheeks.

“Didn’t expect to see you all dressed up like that. What’s the occasion?” he asks, his gaze flickering over your outfit as he walks closer.

“Oh,” you say, clutching your bag tighter. “Felix invited me for dinner tonight. Not babysitting this time.”

Jeongin raises an eyebrow, a spark of interest lighting his features. “Dinner, huh? Fancy. I don’t remember you looking this good when I took you to that party.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head at his playful tone. “That’s because it wasn’t your party, Jeongin. You dragged me along as your last-minute plus-one, remember?”

He grins, clearly pleased with your response. “Fair enough. But still—if I’d known you could look this stunning, I might’ve tried harder to impress you.”

Rolling your eyes, you take a step toward the door. “Well, thanks for the compliment, but I don’t want to be late.”

Jeongin moves aside, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t let me stop you. Have a great night.”

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile before turning away.

As you walk up to the door, you can feel his gaze linger for a moment longer before he retreats to his side of the yard. The sound of his footsteps fades, leaving you standing alone under the glow of the porch light. You exhale, steadying your nerves, and ring the doorbell.

Tonight isn’t going to be just any dinner—it feels like it'll be something more.

-

Felix stands in the kitchen, carefully arranging the final touches on the dinner plates. The aroma of roasted vegetables and perfectly seared chicken fills the air as he wipes his hands on a towel. He hears the soft click of the front door opening and smiles knowingly. 

“That must be you,” he calls out, setting down the towel as he heads toward the entryway. 

You’re just hanging up your coat when Felix steps into view, his smile widening as he takes in your appearance. “Wow,” he says, his tone warm with appreciation. “You really didn’t have to dress so stunningly just to have dinner with us.” 

You laugh lightly, a hint of self-consciousness in your smile. “Well, it’s a special occasion, isn’t it? Plus, it’s nice to have an excuse to dress up.” 

Felix leads you to the dining table, pulling out a chair for you with a small flourish. As you settle in, he checks his phone and sighs softly at the message lighting up the screen. 

“It’s Hyunjin,” he explains, showing you the text. “He says he’s running late. Looks like it’s just the two of us for now.” 

“That’s okay,” you say with an easy smile. “More for us.” 

The two of you enjoy the meal, chatting about lighthearted topics as Felix takes genuine pleasure in seeing you savor the food. Once the plates are cleared, Felix glances toward the small bar cart in the corner and grins mischievously. 

“How about I teach you to make a proper martini?” he suggests, already heading toward the cart. 

“Sure, as long as I don’t poison us,” you tease, following him.  Felix sets out the ingredients and tools, carefully walking you through each step. “No, no, you’re doing great,” he says as you shakily pour vermouth into the shaker. “Now add the gin—carefully, don’t go overboard. Perfect!” 

You shake the cocktail shaker with exaggerated flair, making Felix laugh. When the drinks are poured and garnished, the two of you move to the sofa, glasses in hand. 

As you take your first sip, Felix leans back, swirling his own drink thoughtfully. “So,” he begins, his tone teasing, “how was the party with Jeongin?” 

You groan, already sensing where this is going. “Felix…” 

“What?” he asks innocently, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’m just curious. Did you two, you know…” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Practice safe sex?” 

Your face heats as you shake your head in disbelief. “Oh my god, Felix. Can we not?” 

His grin widens as he takes another sip. “So that’s a yes.” 

You hesitate, rolling your eyes before finally admitting, “Fine. Yes. We did. Happy?” 

Felix laughs, raising his glass in mock toast. “I’m just glad you’re being responsible.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” you mutter, though a small smile plays on your lips. “It was… nice.” 

Felix’s teasing softens into something warmer. “Well, I’m glad you had fun. You deserve it.” 

You take another sip of your martini, savoring the cool, crisp flavor, when Felix hits you with a question that nearly makes you choke. “Okay, but—” he starts, leaning in with a sly grin. “Is Jeongin’s size… big?”

You freeze mid-sip, staring at him in disbelief before bursting into laughter. “Oh my god, I cannot with you!”

“What?” he says, feigning innocence as usual, though the mischievous twinkle in his eyes gives him away. He nudges you with his elbow. “Come on, tell me! Don’t leave me hanging here.”

Shaking your head, you decide to play along, if only to keep him from pestering you all night. “Fine,” you say, setting your glass down with a dramatic sigh. “Yes, Felix. Jeongin’s size is… impressive.”

Felix claps a hand over his mouth, barely containing his laughter, before leaning in again with a devilish smirk. “Okay, okay. But… is it bigger than Hyunjin’s?”

This time, you really do choke, the sip of your drink going down the wrong way as you sputter and hurriedly grab a napkin to wipe your mouth.

“Felix!” you exclaim, your voice a mix of shock and amusement. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He’s practically cackling now, his laughter contagious as he leans back in his seat. “I mean, it’s a valid question!”

Rolling your eyes, you toss the napkin aside and shake your head at his antics. After a moment, you compose yourself and reply, “It’s not about the size, Felix. It’s about how you use it.”

Felix’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he raises his glass in mock toast again. “Now that,” he says, nodding approvingly, “is an answer. You’ve learned well.”

You smirk at Felix, raising your glass in mock toast again. “Well, because I learned from the best.” You shot him a flirty wink at the end of the sentence.

“Touche!” Felix exclaims, clinking his glass with you.

Then, without warning, he takes both of your drinks and sets them aside. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s soft and teasing at first, but quickly deepening as the two of you sink further into the sofa. His hands slide up your sides, sending a warm shiver through your body as you instinctively pull him closer. The laughter from moments before lingers between kisses, making everything feel light and intoxicating.

The sound of the front door opening pulls you back to reality, but Felix doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe he doesn’t care. His lips brush against yours one last time before he murmurs against your mouth, “Wow! You really are getting too good at this.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Hyunjin’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp with amusement and just a hint of irritation.

You pull back abruptly, cheeks flushing as you turn toward the doorway. There stands Hyunjin, arms crossed and a faux pout on his lips, his dark eyes darting between you and Felix.

Felix leans back casually, his arm still draped over the back of the sofa as he shoots Hyunjin a playful grin. “Well, look who decided to show up. Late as always.”

Hyunjin narrows his eyes, stepping closer. “And here I thought I was missed,” he says with a dramatic sigh, though there’s a slight edge to his voice. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

Felix chuckles, completely unbothered. “Oh, you were missed. But this”—he gestures vaguely between you and himself—“is what happens when you come home late.”

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow, tilting his head as if debating how to respond. Before he can say anything, Felix’s grin turns mischievous. “And for that, Hyunjin,” he says, sitting up straighter, “I think you need to be punished.”

Hyunjin’s pout deepens, though there’s a spark of intrigue in his eyes. “Punished? For what exactly?”

“For making me wait,” Felix replies smoothly, his tone playful yet firm. He pats the space on the sofa next to you. “Now come here and take your punishment like a good boy.”

You can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation breaking any tension that might have lingered. Hyunjin hesitates for a moment before finally rolling his eyes and flopping down beside you with a dramatic huff.

“Fine,” he mutters, though a small smile tugs at his lips. “But this better be worth it.”

Felix leans closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Oh, trust me, it will be.”

And just like that, the night shifts into something far more interesting.

-

As the door shuts behind Hyunjin, Felix greets him like he always does, his lips brushing against Hyunjin’s in a soft yet deliberate kiss. There’s a warmth to it, a welcome home that feels natural between them. You watch as Felix, ever attentive, helps Hyunjin shrug off his suit jacket, folding it neatly over his arm before setting it aside.

Then, Felix’s demeanor shifts. With a subtle but unmistakable smirk, he steers Hyunjin toward the sofa. You raise an eyebrow, intrigued, but stay quiet as the scene unfolds.

Felix’s hands on Hyunjin’s shoulders turn firm as he pushes him with surprising force, sending Hyunjin plopping onto the sofa with a soft grunt. Despite Felix’s earlier warning about punishment, Hyunjin looks anything but concerned—his eyes sparkle with amusement, his lips twitching with a knowing smile.

Felix wastes no time. He crouches slightly, his nimble fingers working to untie Hyunjin’s tie. There’s a practiced precision in his movements, and You can’t help but wonder what exactly he’s planning. You sit at the end of the sofa, silently watching, caught between curiosity and amusement.

When the tie finally slips free, you expect Felix to toss it aside. Instead, he does something you don’t see coming—he loops the tie around Hyunjin’s wrists, expertly knotting it. Your eyes widen slightly, but Hyunjin, ever composed, remains unfazed.

“Impressive,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice low and smooth. He flexes his hands slightly, testing the knot. “Never knew you were so good at it.”

Felix chuckles, the sound soft but laced with authority. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He tightens the knot just enough to ensure it’s secure before lifting Hyunjin’s bound hands above his head.

“Keep them there,” Felix orders, his tone leaving no room for argument. Hyunjin obeys without hesitation, his expression one of playful obedience.

Then, Felix turns to you. His fingers curl in a beckoning motion, and you instinctively get up from your seat to walk up to him, drawn in by the intensity in his gaze. When you're close enough, he cups his hand around his mouth, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “Follow my lead.”

A shiver runs down your spine, though you nod without hesitation. Felix leans back, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips before his eyes flick to Hyunjin, who’s watching the two of you with a mix of amusement and anticipation.

You glance at Hyunjin, your gaze narrowing slightly in mock menace, as if hinting at something devious. His brow lifts in curiosity, though he doesn’t break his obedient posture. Truthfully, you have no idea what Felix is planning, but the tension in the room is electric, and you can’t wait to find out.

Felix suddenly claps his hands together, breaking the tension with his usual mischievous energy. “Let’s make this more fun. Champagne, anyone?” he suggests, already moving to grab a bottle from the nearby bar cart.

You blink, caught off guard but quickly finding yourself smiling at his spontaneity. “I’ll grab some ice,” you offer, heading to the kitchen.

By the time you return with a bucket of ice, Felix has already popped the cork, the soft pop echoing in the room as bubbles fizz up and over the rim. You set the bucket down, reaching for the glasses, but Felix waves you off with a playful smirk.

“Won’t be needing those,” he says, striding back to the sofa with the bottle in hand.

Hyunjin remains obediently seated, his bound wrists resting above his head as instructed. Felix sits beside him, turning to face him with a teasing smile.

“Thirsty?” Felix asks, tilting his head.

Hyunjin nods, his eyes flicking between Felix and the bottle, curiosity dancing in his gaze.

“Good,” Felix purrs, lifting the bottle and bringing it close to Hyunjin’s lips. He tips it slowly, letting the champagne flow into Hyunjin’s mouth. But without control over the bottle, some of the sparkling liquid spills, dribbling down the corner of Hyunjin’s mouth and staining his shirt.

Felix gasps theatrically, pulling the bottle away. “Hyunjin! You made a mess,” he scolds, though his tone is anything but serious. His eyes gleam as he turns to you. “Undo his shirt, will you?”

You hesitate for half a second before nodding, moving closer. Hyunjin sits still, his chest rising and falling steadily as you unbutton his shirt, one button at a time. Your fingers graze his skin as you work, pulling the hem free from his slacks and parting the fabric to reveal his toned chest.

Felix leans back, taking in the sight with a satisfied smirk. “Much better,” he muses. “Let’s try this again.”

This time, Felix takes a generous gulp from the bottle, holding the champagne in his mouth as he leans toward Hyunjin. Hyunjin, anticipating what’s coming, parts his lips eagerly. Felix tips forward, letting the champagne trickle from his mouth into Hyunjin’s.

More champagne spills, dribbling down Hyunjin’s chin and onto his bare chest. Without thinking, you lean in, following the stream with your tongue. Hyunjin gasps sharply as your tongue drags a slow, deliberate line down his skin, tasting the sharp sweetness of the champagne mingling with the warmth of his body.

When you glance up, Felix is watching you with an approving grin. He hands you the bottle next, raising an eyebrow. “Your turn, bub.”

You take the bottle, your pulse quickening as you take a gulp of champagne. It fizzes on your tongue as you lean toward Hyunjin, mirroring Felix’s earlier movement. Hyunjin’s lips part instinctively, and you let the champagne spill from your mouth into his, the sensation thrilling and intimate.

As you pull back, a small droplet escapes the corner of your mouth. Before you can react, Felix’s hand catches your chin, his tongue darting out to lick away the stray drop. His lips crash against yours in a heated kiss, and you feel his grin against your mouth as he deepens it.

Hyunjin groans softly, his gaze fixed on the two of you as you kiss, completely ignoring his presence. When Felix finally pulls back, both of you are laughing breathlessly, your foreheads brushing together as Hyunjin watches with a mix of exasperation and yearning.

Felix turns to Hyunjin, smirking. “Enjoying the show?” he teases, and the spark in Hyunjin’s eyes promises that the night is far from over.

Hyunjin's lips curve into a sly smile, his eyes glinting with intrigue. “Definitely,” he shortly answers, his voice low and smooth.

Felix smirks, clearly pleased. “Since you’re enjoying it so much, we might as well continue,” he says, his tone light but deliberate.

With that, Felix reaches for your hands, gently guiding you toward Hyunjin. His movements are slow and purposeful as he gestures for you to sit on Hyunjin’s lap. You glance at Hyunjin, catching the flicker of curiosity in his gaze, but you give nothing away, keeping your own thoughts veiled.

Felix moves behind you, his hands brushing down your shoulders with a tantalizing slowness before slipping to your neck. He tilts your head back, and his lips find yours, the kiss deep and commanding. His hands trail downward, their path unhurried but intentional, the warmth of his touch sparking shivers along your spine.

You barely register the shift until you feel his hands cupping your breasts and he pulls his hands away only to bring the soft fabric of your dress to give way under his fingers. Felix’s hands tease the neckline down with practiced ease, exposing more of you to the cool air and the heat of Hyunjin’s gaze.

As if compelled, Hyunjin leans forward, his plush lips finding the soft of your mounds. His touch is soft but insistent, leaving traces of warmth against your chest. Felix notices immediately, his brow quirking with mock disapproval. Without a word, he presses a hand to Hyunjin’s chest, gently but firmly guiding him back against the sofa.

“Not yet,” Felix murmurs, a hint of authority in his voice. His words are playful, but there’s no mistaking the control he holds over the moment. You smirk at Hyunjin, your expression teasing but complicit, as you adjust the fabric of your dress, letting it fall further.

Felix retrieves the champagne bottle, its surface glistening with condensation. He cradles it in his hand, turning back to Hyunjin with a knowing smile. “If you want to drink, you’ll have to do it my way,” Felix says, his tone both a challenge and an invitation.

Hyunjin nods, his anticipation palpable as Felix positions the bottle above you. The first chilled drop hits your skin, drawing a gasp from your lips. The wine trickles slowly, winding down the valley of your breasts, and Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate. His mouth follows the trail, his movements deliberate yet urgent, savoring every moment.

The contrast between the cold champagne and Hyunjin’s warm lips sends a shiver through you. Even as Felix stops pouring, Hyunjin continues, licking and sucking on your skin, his focus unwavering.

Felix watches with a satisfied smirk, his voice breaking the tension. “Do you want more?” he asks, his words aimed at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin glances up, his expression fervent. “Yes,” he says simply, his voice rough with desire.

Felix obliges, tilting the bottle once more, the champagne cascading down in a shimmering stream down your chest again. Hyunjin leans closer, his mouth catching the flow with a hunger that’s both mesmerizing and exhilarating. Your breath catches at the intensity, the warmth of his touch a striking contrast to the chilled wine.

Felix chuckles softly, clearly relishing the scene he’s orchestrated. “That’s enough for now,” he says, his hand lingering on your shoulder, grounding you in the moment. The room buzzes with an unspoken energy, the air thick with tension, anticipation, and the undeniable pull between all three of you.

Felix steps around the sofa with purpose, standing behind Hyunjin and tilting his head back. His movements are commanding, and Hyunjin doesn’t resist. Felix leans down, their lips meeting in a bold kiss, a mix of dominance and familiarity. You watch, the intensity of the moment pulling you in, and you find yourself pressing soft kisses to Hyunjin’s exposed neck and collarbone. His skin is warm beneath your lips, his subtle cologne mingling with the faint aroma of champagne lingering in the air.

Unable to resist adding to the tension, you shift slightly, letting your hips brush against Hyunjin’s crotch in a deliberate motion. His sharp intake of breath lets you know your teasing isn’t unnoticed.

Felix releases Hyunjin, his eyes flickering toward you before capturing your lips next. The kiss is heated, his hand cupping the side of your face, guiding you closer. Meanwhile, Hyunjin leans forward, his lips grazing the curve of your shoulder, then your collarbone, adding to the heat building between the three of you.

Felix pulls away just enough to whisper something low into your ear, his voice sending a shiver through you. “Get off Hyunjin’s lap.”

Obeying his unspoken command, you rise from Hyunjin’s lap, stepping back slightly. Hyunjin’s expression shifts, a subtle mix of frustration and longing, as he watches you slip out of your dress. Standing in just your white underwear, you feel the air in the room grow thicker. Felix mirrors your confidence, shedding his own shirt with practiced ease, leaving you both standing almost bare before Hyunjin.

The exchange of glances between you and Felix speaks volumes. Without words, you both fall into a rhythm, your lips latched and hands roaming around each other’s bodies, moving together in a way that teases and tempts Hyunjin, leaving him captivated and eager for what might come next. Felix’s smirk grows as he places a hand on your waist, pulling you into him, while Hyunjin’s gaze stays fixed, the air around you all practically crackling with anticipation.

As you and Felix are busy kissing each other’s faces, Hyunjin brings his tied hands forward, impatiently he yanks open the front of his slacks and takes his semi hard out of its confine. He's stroking it as he's watching Felix kissing you with one hand buried between your legs, fingering you with his dainty fingers.

Noticing that Hyunjin is using his hands, Felix comes up at him and put them back behind his head, earning a groan of complaint from Hyunjin. “Nuh-uh! Not yet!”

Felix holds out his hand at you and you immediately take it, he steers you forward, gesturing you to sit on Hyunjin’s lap.

“Just relax...” he suggests.

Hyunjin lets out a low sigh as you slowly rest your back against his chest, he plants his plush lips on your bare shoulder and reflexively brings his hands forward, wanting to touch you.

“Just need to take this off,” Felix murmurs as he tugs at the elastic band of your underwear before pulling it down your legs.

Unknowingly, Hyunjin tears the knot around his wrists with his teeth. The second his hands are breaking free, he places them all over you, caressing and touching you, feeling the softness of your skin with his fingertips. You shiver as his fingers graze your nipple and his mouth nips at your neck.

“I love how sensitive you are, bub,” he whispers into your ear, hot breath fanning your neck.

Felix is now kneeling on the floor and as if Hyunjin reafs his intention, he glides his hands down to your thighs and parting your legs open for him, making you feel exposed than you already are but the way Felix’s lustful eyes widen at the sight of your core, oh, it arouses you so much.

Felix excessively licks his lips before diving into your wetness, his small mouth takes more than what he could, licking, sucking, his tongue flicking over your clit.

“Oh, God!” you sharply gasp with one hand grips at Hyunjin’s forearm and the other tugging at Felix’s hair.

Instead of letting you holds his arm, Hyunjin takes your hand and wraps it around his length. You mewl against his lips as you feel how hot and hard he is in your hand.

Noticing that Hyunjin’s cock lingering not far from his mouth, Felix shifts his focus there, taking it into his mouth, sending Hyunjin’s eyes rolling to the back for a split moment.

You and Hyunjin watching Felix as he's pleasing both of you at the same time, his mouth full of Hyunjin’s length and his hand is busy circling on your clit, moving in sync to give you both the utmost pleasure.

“Yes, baby, just like that,” Hyunjin murmurs as he tangles his hand in Felix’s hair.

Hyunjin moves his other hand to cup your breast, his fingers lightly rubbing on your nipple, rolling it in between beforr gently pinching on it. He slyly smiles as he catches your pained expression.

Felix’s focus returns to you again, he plants his mouth on your cunt, ignoring how your essence gets all over his mouth and chin while his hand incessantly stroking Hyunjin’s cock.

“Keep going, baby. She's close,” Hyunjin murmurs in between his heavy breathing, he turns his head towards you, his lips grazing your ear as he speaks. “Right, bub?”

It's true. They know what they're doing and your body only reacts accordingly as Hyunjin steadily holds your legs up by the back of your knees so Felix can plants his mouth deeper inside you.

You're squirming on Hyunjin’s lap, moans spilling out of your parted mouth, echoing in the living room. You don't feel anything not even the way Hyunjin’s fingers dug into your flesh or how hard Felix sucks on your clit, all you feel is pleasure after pleasure and it keeps building up.

Your arm curve around Hyunjin’s neck, grasping at his hair while the knot in your stomach keeps tightening and your toes curling.

If it wasn't for Hyunjin keeping them parted open, you would have shut your legs and clamped Felix’s head in between. Your eyes screwed shut as the pleasure keeps building inside you yet Felix continues moving his tongue and mouth to get you closer to the edge until—

“Oh!” a loud moan escapes your mouth as your body tenses and goes limp on the next second on Hyunjin’s lap.

Felix keeps his mouth planted between your folds, he runs his tongue repeatedly, drinking in your essence before finally letting go.

Hyunjin slowly lets go of your legs and puts them down,  seeing the crescent marks he made on your skin, he quickly gives them soothing rubs with his knuckles.

“You look beautiful like this, bub.” Hyunjin compliments and you can hear his smile without having to look.

Felix makes a trail of kisses that begins from your abdomen to your chest and neck, he lands a long kiss there before bringing his lips to yours for a hot, slobbering kiss that you can taste yourself on him.

Hyunjin grabs Felix by the jaw and brings his head close, wanting to have your taste on him too. Through your half-shut eyes, you watch as they're kissing with their tongues twirling, passionate yet there's tenderness in them.

After a while, Felix pulls away from the kiss with a smile and puts his attention back to you. He looks at you and brushes your hair away from your face, “Let's get you to bed, mmh?”

He takes your arms and puts them around his neck before scooping your body in his. In one swift moment, he lifts you from Hyunjin’s lap and you cling to him as he carries you to the guest bedroom.

Once inside, Felix carefully lays you down on the bed and turns on the bedside lamp, keeping the light low. With a soft smile, he joins you on the bed, lying next to you as you're still coming down from your high.

He kisses your neck, along your collarbone and then on your sternum, letting a low sigh, he looks at you and says, “I'm going to miss this body, bub.”

You smile at him because you're going to miss the way he makes you feel admired and adored, like you're the only thing that fascinated him.

“And maybe miss me too?” Hyunjin chimes in as he comes into the room, ditching his slacks before climbing onto the bed.

You and Felix let out a low chuckle but all is forgotten as the three of you cuddling on the bed, skin on skin, limbs going all over each other, bodies tangled together.

The next thing you know, your body is ready to climb the high. One thing rushes to your head and you know how selfish it sounds but there’s no right time to say it except now.

“I want you two to cum inside me,” you blurt out the second you let go of Hyunjin’s lips.

Lying on his stomach, Felix tilts his head as he looks at you. He gently cups your cheek with his hand as he asks. “Is that what you want?”

You nod as you stare back at him and then at Hyunjin, letting them know that this is what you really want. Hyunjin then takes your hand, bringing it close enough to place a kiss on your wrist. “Your wish has always been our command,” he says with a warm smile.

Getting into the position, your hips are on the edge of the bed and you keep your knees bent, your feet hanging at the end of the bed.

In order to make your wish come true, Hyunjin and Felix decide that it's best if they take turns in fucking you and that way, they'll be cumming around the same time, inside you.

Hyunjin takes the first turn, he gives his length a few pumping before rubbing it between your folds, drenching it in your essence as a lubricant. He runs his hand on the side of your body then grips at your waist, he stares at you with eyes wide and dark with lust.

“I'm going in, yeah?” he lowly mutters as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

You hold your breath the whole time Hyunjin pushes his length into you and gasp when he finally bottomed out. He throws his head back, overwhelmed. “This tightness, oh, Bub, you're perfect.”

Hyunjin always knows what to say like his plush lips aren't sweet enough, like his kisses aren't dizzying enough, like Felix isn't already doing it to you as he waits for his turn.

Hyunjin moves at a steady pace and once in a while, his eyes flick down to watch the way his cock going in and out of you, but he enjoys watching your face contort in pleasure more.

Hyunjin stops when he comes too close to his high and slowly draws out of you, a groan falls out of his mouth as he takes a step back, slightly staggering.

Felix plants a long kiss on your lips before taking his position, standing at the end of the bed and enters you, feeling how wet and tight you are around him that he growls like a wounded animal.

“Have you always been this tight, bub?” He asks with a suppressed groan.

The room filled with your shared moans, skin slapping sounds and the rustle of the sheets underneath you as you hold on to them, crumpling it in your hands as you take every thrust from both Hyunjin and Felix as they take turns on fucking you.

They know. They obviously know you've climaxed twice already but you persist, telling them to keep going.

“Don’t stop, please!” You beg between your moans and whines.

You open your eyes to find Hyunjin tirelessly thrusting into you even though a sheen of sweat coated his face and his hair stuck to his forehead. He's close, you know from the way his cock starts twitching inside you yet he wants to hold off as long as he could.

A minute later, he tilts his head up and lets out a frustrated groan. “Fuck! I can't hold it anymore.”

One, two thrusts later, Hyunjin comes undone, he slightly pulls away to launch his cock deep into you. Felix puts his arms around him, holding him from the back and kissing his neck as Hyunjin is spilling his seed inside you as you asked.

After a moment, Hyunjin finds the strength to pull out and Felix is ready to catch him into his arms, helping him to steady himself before taking his turn next. Though Felix is unsure whether you want to continue as you look spent and flushed on the bed.

He leans in, brushing your hair away from your forehead and then kisses it, “You sure you want to continue, bub?”

You nod, bobbing your head until he gets it that you want to continue no matter what. He smiles at you and kisses you on the lips before finally giving you what you wanted.

Felix ignores how drenched you are with Hyunjin’s cum dripping out of you, he moves at a painstakingly slow motions yet doing it intensely, you can feel every inch of his length inside you.

You’re lying there, tired yet content, feeling nothing but pleasure that keeps filling you and pleasing you to no end. However, you feel more sensitive after each orgasm and when Felix finally cum, you gasp at how you can feel his warm seed overflowing you.

“Yeah, take all of me, bub,” Felix murmurs with his low, deep voice.

Not pulling away yet, Felix starts peppering your chest and neck with kisses. They feel so rewarding as they feel so warm and affectionate, each kiss longer than previous one.

“Such a good girl!” Felix compliments with another rewarding kiss on your jaw.

With your eyes remain closed, you can hear their collective gasp when Felix pulls away, you can’t see how much or how messy it is down there but God, you feel so fucking content that you don't care about anything else.

You feel hands on your hips, knees and ankles, then kisses on your thighs, your eyelids feel heavy that it takes you a minute to be able to open your eyes and look down.

Hyunjin and Felix are going down on you again and now that you see them, you can feel their slick, hot tongues collecting their cum and drinking it. Occasionally, they'll stop and turns their heads toward each other, then kiss. You can't find anything more erotic than that but one thing for sure, it only happens on date night and you feel sad that it's probably the last one you had with them.

-

The three of you lay together on the bed, the low hum of the heater filling the quiet spaces between you. You hold your glass, staring into what’s left of the martini Felix helped you make earlier. Hyunjin rests his back against the headboard, his arm draped around Felix, while Felix sits cross-legged, letting you rest your head on his lap, his gaze soft but focused on you.

“Hey, bub?” Felix calls with a gentle brush of his small hand in your hair.

You tilt your head and lean into his touch. “Yes?”

Felix catches a strand of hair between his fingers then tucks it behind your ear. “Have you decided whether you'll be staying or...?”

“Listen,” Hyunjin adds, his voice gentle but firm, “we just want you to know that we support whatever decision you make.” 

Felix nods in agreement, a small, reassuring smile on his lips. “We really mean it. No matter what happens, we’re so grateful for everything you’ve done for us—for Aster, especially.” 

You swallow hard, their words hitting you with a weight you weren’t prepared for. You glance at the two of them, your vision blurring slightly. “I don’t know what to do,” you admit, your voice trembling. “I—I feel so torn. I love being here with you, with Aster. It feels like home. But... if I don’t leave now, I might never take this chance. And then... I’ll always wonder.” 

Felix shifts closer, his expression filled with understanding. “It’s okay to feel that way,” he says softly. “It just means this place—and this family—mean a lot to you. And trust me, you mean just as much to us.” 

Hyunjin reaches over, placing a warm hand on your knee. “You’ll always have a home here,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring. “No matter where you go or what you do, we’ll always think of you as family.” 

-

The soft morning sun filters through the trees as you lift another bag into the trunk of the car, carefully tucking it into place. The sound of shoes scuffing on the pavement catches your attention, and you glance up to see Jeongin crossing the street, his easy smile already in place.

“Good morning,” he calls out, closing the distance to you.

“Morning, Jeongin,” you reply, stepping back to let him help as he reaches for one of the remaining bags.

“Need a hand with this?” he asks, already grabbing the bag.

“Thanks,” you say with a nod.

As he hoists the bag into the trunk, he glances at you. “Heading out this early? Where are you guys off to?”

“We’re going to the beach for the weekend,” you explain, leaning against the car for a moment.

Jeongin finishes loading the last bag and straightens up, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “A beach trip, huh? Sounds fun.”

“It is,” you agree with a small smile. “It's Felix’s idea. He insists that we're going as it'll probably be our last trip together.”

His smile wavers, his gaze searching your face. “So that means you've made up your mind about leaving?”

You hesitate, your fingers tightening on the edge of the car’s trunk. The truth is, you don’t have an answer yet—not one you’re ready to admit out loud. “I’m still... figuring that out.”

Before Jeongin can respond, Hyunjin steps out of the house, jogging over to the car. “Hey! Sorry I didn’t come out sooner to help,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“No worries,” you reply lightly.

Hyunjin’s eyes flick to Jeongin, and he offers a polite smile. “Oh, morning, Jeongin.”

“Morning,” Jeongin says, giving Hyunjin a quick nod. Then he looks at you again, his expression softening. “Well, I won’t keep you. Have a great trip with the family.”

“Thanks,” you say, watching as he gives you one last smile before heading back across the street.

Not long after, you hear the patter of small footsteps on the driveway. Aster comes running at you, his tiny arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he beams up at you. “We're going to the beach, bubba!” he shouts with his eyes sparkling.

You laugh, ruffling his hair. “I know. How exciting!”

Felix appears next, his sunglasses perched on his head and a warm grin on his face. “Is everyone ready to go?”

“YES!” Aster shouts before anyone else can answer, bouncing on his toes.

Felix chuckles, glancing at you and Hyunjin. “Guess that settles it. Let’s hit the road.”

You close the trunk and take one last look down the street, your thoughts lingering briefly before turning to the journey ahead.

-

The car hums softly as you sit in the back seat with Aster, his little legs swinging excitedly as he talks nonstop about the beach. You lean your head against the window, staring at the passing scenery. It hits you all over again: today is the last day you’ll be with them, the last day you’ll be Aster’s babysitter. 

The thought feels heavy, but you shake it off. You promised yourself this morning that you wouldn’t let it weigh you down, not today. Today, you’re going to enjoy every moment with this family you’ve come to love. 

“We’re gonna see duckies, right? Big duckies?” Aster’s excited voice snaps you out of your thoughts. 

Hyunjin chuckles from the driver’s seat, glancing at Felix beside him. "Seagulls, Aster. They’re called seagulls." 

Aster frowns briefly, then grins. "Duckies!" he insists, making you laugh. 

The drive is filled with his chatter, punctuated by the occasional questions from Felix or playful corrections from Hyunjin. You find yourself smiling more often than not, soaking in the familiar warmth of these moments. 

As the car gets closer to the beach, Aster’s chatter starts to fade. You glance down and see him leaning heavily against you, his eyes fluttering shut. By the time you arrive, he’s fully asleep, curled up like a little ball against your side. 

Hyunjin parks the car and stretches, turning around to see Aster snoozing away. "Should we wake him?" he asks. 

You and Felix try gently shaking him, calling his name softly, but Aster only lets out a small sigh and snuggles deeper into his nap. Felix laughs, scooping him up into his arms. "He’ll wake up when he’s ready," he says, cradling Aster with practiced ease. 

The three of you settle on a bench near the shore, eating the packed meal Felix prepared while Aster remains fast asleep in his dad’s arms. You steal glances at the waves, the sound of the surf calming you in a way that’s both comforting and painful. It feels like the sea knows you’re leaving too. 

When Aster finally stirs, blinking blearily up at Felix, he stretches his little arms and immediately perks up. “Duckies!” he shouts, wiggling out of Felix’s hold. 

You laugh as he starts running toward the seagulls scattered across the sand, his little legs pumping furiously as he chases after them. "Duckies, wait!" he calls, and the seagulls scatter, squawking loudly. 

You trail after him, keeping a careful eye on his path. “Aster, they’re not duckies!” you tease. 

“They are!” he yells over his shoulder, his face lit up with pure joy. 

After a while, Hyunjin takes over, scooping Aster up and spinning him around before carrying him toward the water. You and Felix find a spot on the beach, spreading out towels and sitting down as Hyunjin and Aster splash in the shallows. 

Felix leans back on his hands, gazing out at the scene. "He’s going to remember this day forever," he says softly, his voice tinged with emotion. 

You follow his gaze, watching as Hyunjin crouches beside Aster, helping him scoop wet sand into a little bucket. They’re both laughing, their hair shining under the sun. You glance at Felix, his expression filled with quiet pride and love, and feel your chest tighten. 

"He’s lucky to have you both," you say, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. 

Felix turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. "And we’re lucky to have you," he replies, his tone earnest. 

You look away, focusing on the ocean, because you don’t trust yourself to respond without breaking.

-

The four of you pile into the car after an eventful afternoon at the beach, Mandu happily wagging her tail as she hops onto Hyunjin’s lap. Aster is tucked securely into his car seat, already dozing off from the day’s excitement. You settle into your seat, gazing out the window at the fading coastline, feeling a pang in your chest. This is your last day with them—a thought that has lingered all day like a shadow. 

But you push it aside. Not today, you promise yourself. Today, I’ll focus on them. On us.

Soon, the car rolls to a stop in front of a cozy rented beach house at the quieter end of the shoreline. The smell of saltwater mingles with the soft, cooling breeze of the evening. Mandu leaps out of the car as soon as the door opens, trotting circles around Felix’s feet. 

“We’ll get dinner started,” Felix says, gesturing for Hyunjin to follow him inside. “You should take Mandu for a quick walk before she drives us all crazy.” 

“I’ll take Aster with me,” you offer, smiling as Hyunjin raises a brow. 

“You sure? He might want to chase after Mandu instead of holding your hand.” 

You chuckle. “I’ll manage.” 

With Aster’s tiny hand in yours and Mandu on her leash, you stroll down the beach, the evening sky streaked with shades of pink and orange. Mandu dashes ahead, playfully digging into the sand before rolling onto her back, her fluffy coat coated with grains. 

Aster giggles at her antics. “Silly doggie,” he says, tugging you toward her. 

“She’s always silly,” you reply, your heart swelling as you watch the little boy’s infectious joy. 

You crouch down, helping Aster search for seashells. He carefully places his treasures in your palm, chattering about the colors and shapes. Eventually, you find a quiet spot where the waves kiss the shore and sit down, pulling Aster into your lap. 

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, watching the sun sink lower, painting the water in hues of gold and crimson. A sense of calm washes over you, but it’s tinged with melancholy. This serene moment, this closeness, is something you’ll soon leave behind. 

You cuddle Aster close, resting your chin on his tiny shoulder. “Aster,” you say softly, “I love you.” 

Aster leans back into you, completely at ease. “I know,” he replies, his voice sweetly nonchalant. 

You laugh, surprised at his casual confidence. “Oh, you know huh?” 

He twists around to look at you, his big eyes bright with sincerity. “Yeah. You’re special to me, Bubba.” 

His words hit you harder than you expect. Your breath catches, and tears spill over before you can stop them. Aster tilts his head, his small hands gently holding your face. 

“No crying!” he says, his little voice firm and insistent. “No crying!” 

You sniffle, forcing a smile as your heart swells painfully in your chest. “Okay, okay. But if I stop crying, you have to give me a kiss. Deal?” 

“Deal!” Aster exclaims, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. 

“Ugh! Slobbery!” You playfully groan, wiping your tears away as he beams at you, proud of himself.

Pulling him close again, you hold onto the moment—the sound of the waves, the warmth of the setting sun, and the little boy who somehow always knows what your heart needs. 

But as the sun dips lower, a heaviness settles in your chest. The reality of leaving Aster feels unbearable, like a weight pressing down on you. You hold him a little tighter, dreading the moment when these little moments will only exist in your memory. 

Before the sadness can fully take over, Hyunjin’s voice calls from the beach house, breaking the spell. “Dinner’s ready! Aster, come on, it’s time to eat!” 

Aster wiggles out of your arms, already running toward the house with Mandu trailing after him. You take a deep breath, composing yourself, and get up to follow them. 

Just one more night, you remind yourself, watching Aster’s small figure disappear into the warm glow of the house. I’ll make the most of it.

-

The dining table is bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, its golden rays streaming through the windows of the beach house. Felix and Hyunjin have outdone themselves with dinner: grilled fish, fresh salad, roasted vegetables, and a warm loaf of bread. Aster eagerly digs into his plate, his messy but happy eating bringing laughter to everyone around the table. 

“You’ve got sauce all over your chin, baby,” Hyunjin chuckles, wiping Aster’s face with a napkin as the little boy giggles in protest. 

“It’s okay, Daddy! It’s tasty!” Aster exclaims, making you and Felix laugh. 

The conversation flows effortlessly, filled with lighthearted teasing, funny anecdotes, and shared memories of the day. The atmosphere is peaceful and warm, as if the setting sun is blessing the moment. You glance around the table, soaking it all in—the laughter, the love, the feeling of belonging. 

As the meal winds down and Aster’s energy finally begins to wane, his tiny eyelids droop, and his head nods forward. You smile softly, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. 

“I’ll tuck him in,” you offer, already rising from your seat. 

Hyunjin nods with a grateful smile. “Thanks. It’ll probably be his quickest bedtime ever.” 

Carrying Aster to his room, you marvel at how small and light he feels in your arms. The day’s excitement has worn him out completely, and he barely stirs as you settle him onto the bed. You carefully pull the blanket over him and sit beside him, watching his peaceful face as he sleeps. 

Your heart feels heavy as you whisper, “Goodnight, Aster. I love you so much.” 

You reach out, gently brushing your fingers through his soft hair. “I hope you’ll never forget me,” you murmur, the words catching in your throat. 

Leaning down, you press a kiss to his forehead, lingering for just a moment. “Sweet dreams, Bub.” 

As quietly as possible, you leave the room, closing the door softly behind you. 

When you return to the living room, Hyunjin and Felix are waiting for you on the balcony, the soft glow of lanterns and the sound of waves creating a serene atmosphere. Felix hands you a drink with a small smile. “Come join us. We’re savoring the last of the summer nights.” 

You settle into a chair between them, the cool breeze carrying the scent of salt and the faint hum of crickets. The three of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping your drinks and listening to the rhythmic crash of the waves. 

Eventually, Felix is the one to break the quiet. “So,” he begins, his voice gentle, “have you decided? Are you staying, or…?” 

You take a deep breath, gripping the glass in your hands as you stare out at the horizon. “I… I’ve been so torn. I love you all so much, and leaving feels like tearing a part of myself away. But…” 

Felix and Hyunjin exchange a glance, their expressions soft and understanding. 

Your chest tightens, and tears spill over before you can stop them. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sob. Felix immediately leans forward, wrapping you in a hug, and you cling to him like a lifeline. 

“I don’t want to leave,” you whisper, your voice muffled against Felix’s shoulder. “But I feel like I have to.” 

Felix rubs slow circles on your back as Hyunjin gently squeezes your knee. “It’s okay,” Felix murmurs. “It’s okay to feel that way. It’s okay to leave, too. It doesn’t mean you’re leaving us behind. It just means you’re taking the next step in your life.” 

As the conversation unfolds, your tears eventually subside, but the ache in your chest remains. Sitting here with them, feeling their warmth and support, it’s the most bittersweet moment you’ve ever experienced. 

For the first time, you allow yourself to fully consider what it would mean to leave. To step away from this home, from this family you’ve grown to love so deeply. And as painful as it is, the clarity begins to settle over you like a heavy, unshakable truth. 

“I think...” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, “I think leaving is the right thing to do.” 

Felix pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his own glistening with unshed tears. “Then we’ll be here, cheering you on every step of the way,” he says, his voice unwavering.

Hyunjin nods, a small but heartfelt smile on his face. “And you’ll always know where to find us.” 

Felix leans closer, his gaze earnest as he adds, “And we’ll always consider you family, no matter where you go.” 

You manage a weak, watery smile. “Thank you. For everything.” 

They both pull you into a hug, and for a long moment, the three of you sit there, wrapped in each other’s presence, the unspoken goodbye already beginning to settle in the air around you. 

The three of you raise your glasses, a silent toast to the love and memories you’ve shared. As the night deepens and the sounds of the waves blend with the cool breeze, you realize this is the perfect ending to your time with them—bittersweet, but filled with love.

-

The early morning air is crisp and quiet as the family car pulls up to the driveway, marking the end of your time together. Everyone steps out, stretching from the long drive back from the beach house. Felix and Hyunjin exchange soft smiles as they begin to unload bags, and you instinctively step in to help. 

Once everything is carried inside, a sense of finality washes over you. This is it—your goodbye. 

Hyunjin is the first to approach you, his smile warm but tinged with sadness. He opens his arms, and you step into the embrace. It’s firm and comforting, just like him. 

“Good luck,” he says softly. “With the new job, with life, with everything. You’re going to do amazing, and don’t forget—we’re always here if you need us.” 

“Thank you, Hyunjin,” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly as you pull away. 

Then it’s Felix’s turn. His expression is carefully neutral, but you can see the glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. As he wraps his arms around you, he holds you a little longer, a little tighter. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “For everything. For being there for us, for loving Aster the way you did, for being a part of our family.” 

You feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and your throat tightens as you nod against his shoulder. “You all made it easy to love you. I’ll miss you so much.” 

When you step back, Felix quickly looks away, wiping his eyes before Aster notices. 

Lastly, you crouch down to Aster’s level. He’s still drowsy from napping in the car, rubbing his eyes and leaning heavily against Hyunjin’s leg. 

“Bye, Aster,” you say, gently brushing his soft hair. “Be good for your dads, okay?” 

Aster blinks up at you, his tiny hand reaching out to hold yours. “Bye-bye,” he says sleepily. Then, with a big yawn, he adds, “See you again!” 

Your heart clenches at the innocence of his words, the way he doesn’t understand that this is goodbye. You pet Mandu’s fluffy head one last time, murmuring a quiet goodbye to the little dog as she wags her tail happily. 

As you walk down the driveway, the bittersweet ache in your chest grows heavier. You glance back one last time, catching a glimpse of them through the doorway—Hyunjin with his arm around Felix’s shoulders, Felix holding Aster close, and Mandu wagging her tail as if she’s waiting for you to turn around and come back. 

For a fleeting moment, you imagine what it would be like to stay—to keep waking up to Aster’s laughter, Felix’s teasing, and Hyunjin’s calm steadiness. To keep being a part of this little world you’ve cherished so deeply. 

But life moves forward, and so must you. 

The morning sun casts a warm glow over the house, almost like a goodbye of its own. As you reach the end of the driveway, a tear finally escapes, trailing down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away and whisper to yourself, They’ll be okay. And so will I.

The sound of Aster’s voice carries faintly on the breeze, his happy giggle mingling with the distant crash of the waves you left behind at the beach. 

With one last look, you turn and walk away, the weight in your heart mixed with a small, comforting warmth. You might be leaving, but the memories of this place, this family, will stay with you—etched into your soul like footprints in the sand, softly washed away but never forgotten. 

And as you take the first steps toward your new chapter, you know that some goodbyes aren’t endings; they’re beginnings in disguise.

-

EPILOGUE

Four years later, your life has transformed into a whirlwind of success and creativity. Working at an architectural firm has been both challenging and rewarding, and every project you take on seems to push your career to greater heights. You’re engrossed in reviewing blueprints when your desk phone rings, pulling you out of your focus. 

“Someone at the front desk wants to see you,” the receptionist says. You glance at your schedule, confused—there’s no meeting planned. 

“Who is it?” you ask. 

“Mr. Felix Lee,” she replies, reading the name from a post-it note.

The name hits you like a warm wave of nostalgia. Felix. You can’t remember the last time you saw him, though you’ve thought about him, Hyunjin, and Aster countless times since you left. Heart racing with excitement, you rush to the lobby. 

There he is, standing by the glass doors, looking just like you remember but a little older, more refined. His smile is bright, and his arms are open as he greets you with a hug. “Gosh!” You gasp in surprise, “How wonderful to see you!”

Felix lets go of the hug yet his hand lingers on your arm, rubbing it up and down as he warmly speaks. “So good to see you!”

You take a step back to take a full look of him, still in disbelief that he's here in the flesh. “It’s real,” you mutter to yourself.

“Is it okay if I take you out for lunch?” he asks, his voice as warm and familiar as ever. 

You don’t hesitate. “Of course!” 

The two of you find a cozy café nearby. Over plates of comfort food, you can’t stop yourself from asking questions about everything. 

“How’s Hyunjin?” 

“Still as dramatic as ever,” Felix says with a laugh. “He’s heading the night news now.” 

“And Aster?” you ask, a wave of fondness washing over you at the mention of his name. 

Felix’s expression softens. “He’s starting school soon. Can you believe it? He’s so excited to make new friends.” 

You smile, imagining Aster’s bright energy lighting up a classroom. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit. Work has been so…” 

“Hey,” Felix interrupts, “we understand. Life happens. But it’s good to see you now.” 

There’s a pause as you sip your drink, the moment so full of nostalgia and unspoken gratitude. Then curiosity gets the better of you. “So, what brought you to see me? I mean, I’m thrilled you’re here, but…” 

As if he's just remembered something, Felix rummaging through his bag and pulls out something, he then places it in front of you. It's an envelope.

“What’s this?” You ask in a mix of curiosity and excitement.

Felix shrugs, letting you to find out what's inside the envelope yourself. You rubs your hands together before picking it up from the table, you flip it around and carefully open it, sliding what looks like a greeting card inside. A Christmas card to be exact.

“I guess you came here to deliver the Christmas card yourself, huh?”

He grins at that and sips his hot chocolate, he puts his attention back on you as you open the greeting card. The writing inside is hand-written and based on how wobbly the letters are, you guess Aster is the one who wrote it.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS, BUBBA! WE MISS YOU. He even adds colorful hearts around it and a drawing of snowman at the bottom.

It's inexplicable how you suddenly get teary eyed seeing Aster’s handwriting. “What? Aster can write now?”

“He's been practicing,” Felix casually says as if it’s not something worth to brag about.

You didn't notice it at first until you flip the card and sees the family photo. Hyunjin, Felix and Aster sitting on the floor next to the Christmas tree with Mandu innocently looking to the camera, tilting his head to the side. Your finger trails Aster’s face frozen in a picture, his smile is radiant yet full of life, looking the same as you remember him but with his hair cut short, he looks like a big boy now.

“Aster is a heartthrob already,” You say with a fond smile.

Felix smiles but his eyes aren't really doing the same, he hesitates about something.

“What is it, Felix?” You ask, getting a little nervous because he looks like someone who's about to share a piece of bad news.

He's glancing down at his plate and fidgets with his fork for a moment before meeting your eyes. “I actually came to ask for your help.” 

“Anything, please,” you reply instantly. “After everything you and Hyunjin have done for me, of course I’ll help. Just tell me what you need.” 

He hesitates again, clearly unsure how to phrase what he wants to say. You reach out and place a hand on his. “Felix, you can ask me anything.” 

He nods, takes a deep breath, and finally speaks. “Hyunjin and I… we’re planning to have another child.” 

The news makes you light up with joy. “Felix, that’s amazing! Congratulations!” 

“Thank you,” he says, his smile widening, but there’s a hint of nervousness in his eyes. 

“You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that, though,” you tease. 

“There’s more,” he says, and his tone shifts to something more serious. “That’s where I need your help.” 

You lean forward, listening intently. 

Felix hesitates again, as though carefully choosing his words. Finally, he blurts it out. “We were hoping you might consider… being the surrogate for our child.” 

For a moment, the world seems to pause. You blink, trying to process what he just said. 

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” Felix quickly adds, his voice rushed. “And we’ll completely understand if it’s too much. But we trust you, and you mean so much to us. Hyunjin and I can’t think of anyone else we’d want to do this.” 

You sit back, overwhelmed but deeply moved. The weight of the request is immense, but so is the love you feel for this family. Despite the swirl of emotions, one thing is clear: this is Felix, someone who gave you a home when you needed it most, asking for your help to grow his own family. 

For a moment, you struggle to find the words. The café feels both intimate and overwhelming all at once. You manage a shaky smile and meet Felix’s hopeful gaze. 

“Felix… I need some time to think about this,” you say softly.  Felix nods, his understanding smile returning. “Of course. That’s all I’m asking for.” 

The conversation shifts to lighter topics, but the weight of Felix’s request lingers in the back of your mind. 

As you part ways outside the café, Felix gives you one last hug. “No matter what you decide, we’re grateful for you. Always.” 

You watch him gets into the back of the taxi and stay to see Felix drives away, but his words echoing in your mind. The city buzzes around you, but all you can hear is the sound of your own heart racing. 

As you turn and head back to work, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder. The question looms over you, unanswered, as the sun begins to set over the city. 

And for the first time in years, you wonder if this is the start of something new—or the closing of a chapter you never thought would reopen.

-

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[cybersunnie]

the look of love

RAFE CAMERON meets the new art teacher.

includes fem!teacher!reader / uncle!rafe / reader goes by "miss sugar" / fluff / grumpy x sunshine / family dynamics / safe to read! / wc 1.5k

Sarah already had her own family. Two rascals, Jackson and Josie. Meanwhile, Rafe didn’t. He had no kids. Nada. Zero. And he planned to keep it that way for a while.

As much as he loved his niece and nephew, they depleted his desire to have any. They were both rowdy and talkative and an awful lot like their parents. 

It scared him. 

He didn’t need more John B’s and Sarah’s walking the earth. Those little devils.

And yet, he was on his way to pick them up from school.

He never had to before. It was typically JJ, Kie, or anyone who wasn’t him. But apparently, the Pogues were more swamped than usual and had a ‘customer issue’ at their little Surf Shop. Whatever that meant.

Safe to say, Rafe wasn’t too thrilled about it. He was a busy man—the CEO of Cameron Development, to be exact. Children didn’t fit in his schedule. At least, that was what he told himself on the lonelier, quieter days. But family was family, as his dad always said. So, when his sister had called him, pleading, he reluctantly agreed. 

When he pulled into the pick-up zone, driving along the curb, he spotted his niece and nephew. They were hard to miss, not only because they were the only kids in front of the school, but because of the woman accompanying them. You. 

With the sweetest smile Rafe had ever seen, you stood between them, hands clasped behind your back, your eyes darting between the two children as they talked over each other. 

Rafe stopped in front of them and rolled the windows down. The youngest of the two, Josie, was the first to notice. 

An exaggeratedly loud gasp left her lips, her eyes wide. “Uncle Rafe!” 

That set off a chain reaction. 

Jackson looked up, his brows furrowed. “Uncle Rafe?” 

Rafe didn’t know if he should feel offended.

Then, your gaze shifted away from the kids, meeting his eyes through the passenger window. Time slowed. He saw your smile soften, and you waved at him. His heart lurched out of his chest, the feeling foreign and borderline uncomfortable. 

What the fuck?

But he didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling as his niece and nephew rushed towards his car.

“Uncle, uncle, uncle,” Josie chanted, panting like she ran a mile. “You’re pickin’ us up?”

Jackson stared at him with narrowed eyes. “You never pick us up.” 

Damn, what was this kid’s problem?

“Yes, Josie. And, well, they’re busy at the Surf Shop,” Rafe sighed, unlocking the car doors to let them in. “So, you guys got me for today.”

Through the rearview mirror, he watched the children clamber into the vehicle, feet kicking and hands flying as they argued about trivial matters—I always sit on the left side! So? I got in first. You’re being a butthead! I’m telling mommy you called me a butthead!—and so on. He chuckled, his lips curving into a grin.

Suddenly, you spoke, “They’re special, huh?” 

Your voice was warm and inviting. He didn’t know a person could sound so lovely.

When Rafe looked at you, he forgot how to speak. Every word he knew? Gone. And you barely did anything. You were just standing before the passenger door, staring back at him. He couldn’t help but notice the smudge of orange paint on the bridge of your nose. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he ultimately said, nodding.

You extended your right hand out to him through the open window. He saw more dried paint on your fingertips. “I’m Miss Sugar, the new art teacher here.”

Ah, that explained it. 

“Rafe.” He shook your hand, his eyes locked on your face. Your hand felt soft but far from fragile. “Rafe Cameron.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you beamed.

Did you ever stop smiling? Your cheeks should be hurting at this rate. 

He nodded, letting go of your hand before he looked like a creep. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

“Oh, Uncle Rafe,” Josie called, rummaging through her backpack, “me and Jackson made a paper chain thingy with Miss Sugar! Look, this one’s you!” 

He turned his head, eyes squinting at the paper doll chain she held up. Josie explained they made it during the after-school program, where she and Jackson spent a few extra hours each day. There were nine cut-out paper dolls, with what he assumed to be Josie at the start and him at the end. It was rough around the edges, but what did Rafe expect from a five-year-old? And the longer he stared at it, Rafe figured he was a last-minute addition, his hand glued to Sarah’s doll, the paper there wrinkled. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw you tilt your head into his car, looking at the kids. You seemed proud. It made him wonder what it felt like to have someone be proud of him.

“That’s really nice.” Rafe looked at his niece, who grinned brightly at his praise. He then stared at the frowny face drawn on his doll. “Why’s everyone smiling except for me?”

“Because you’re always grumpy,” Jackson replied bluntly. 

Little Josie slapped a hand over her mouth and erupted in giggles. Of course, his nephew was the one behind it.

Seriously, did this kid have a vendetta against him?

“Okay, you—” Rafe caught sight of your amused expression, and he bit back his words, “—I’m not always grumpy.”

You tried to cover up your laugh with a cough. “Yeah, he doesn’t look grumpy right now,” you defended, though it was far from convincing. Then you shot him a wink, and the gears in his mind stuttered and fell apart. Were you flirting with him? Or was it more of an ‘I got your back’ sort of wink? 

Fuck, why did he even care? He needed to pull himself together. 

“Anyways, I have to get back now,” you sighed, and the kids protested almost immediately. He saw a frown tug on your features, and you moved to the backseat window, cooing a mix of ‘I know’ and ‘I wish I could stay longer’ that eased their complaints. Eventually, you moved to the passenger window again, telling him a sweet, “Get home safe.”

Rafe felt himself having to fight back a smile. “Thanks.” 

You pursed your lips, your fingers tapping the window seal. “Don’t be a stranger, Rafe Cameron,” you said, stepping back from his car.

Jackson and Josie shouted their goodbyes to you before he could respond, but your words rang in his ears. Don’t be a stranger. He watched you wave to him and the kids before turning on your heel, your long skirt dancing around your legs as you made your way to the school’s entrance. Once you disappeared behind the door, he eased off the brake and pulled out of the pick-up zone.

As Rafe drove the kids home, the wind whipped through the open windows, the music on the stereo hummed softly, and his niece and nephew whispered to each other in the backseat. What about? He didn’t know, nor did he want to know. But he suspected they were up to no good. 

Josie cleared her throat with an over-the-top ahem, ahem! “Uncle Rafe?”

“What?”

She didn’t waste another second. “What you think of Miss Sugar?”

Rafe stared hard at the road. He had many thoughts about you: beautiful, messy, stunning, smiled too much, gorgeous. 

“Uh, she seems nice,” he answered, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Why?”

“Just wondering!” Josie chirped.

Silence fell between them.

He thought that would be it, and then he heard more whispering. Dread flooded his body. Rafe tweaked the stereo volume higher. They hadn’t caught that you piqued his interest, right? No, that would be ridiculous. They were kids. They would be none the wiser.

At least, he thought so until his niece asked, “Do you think she’s pretty?”

No wonder the Pogues called her Nosy Josie. It all made sense now. And, of course, he thought you were pretty. Who wouldn’t?

Rafe sucked in a breath, scratching his brow. “I’m not answerin’ that.”

Jackson grumbled, “I told you, Josie.” 

“You didn’t!” 

And a new argument ensued. But for once, Rafe was content listening to their high-pitched shouts because that meant the attention was off him. He didn’t want to be pestered about you any further. If Josie had kept pushing, he feared he would be sent down a rabbit hole, you consuming his thoughts.

But maybe he had already fallen down the rabbit hole. He was just too busy denying it.

Soon, Rafe arrived at their home, and the kids hopped out of his car and ran to their parents. Sarah thanked him for picking them up as John B took them inside—Josie sat on his hip, with Jackson walking beside him. He brushed it off, even offering to pick them up from school more often. His sister looked surprised and a little skeptical, but she didn’t question his change of heart. 

While Rafe Cameron didn’t have time for children, he could make time for you.

sunnie speaks! i realized miss sugar is barely in this WHOOPS!!! but i hope you guys found his dynamic w jackson and josie fun, haha! i sure had a fun time writing it :D let's chat about rafe cameron / teacher!reader

if you like my work, consider following @sunniefics to stay up to date on all my future fics!

[neferaskingdom]

♡ I Need A Charles Dickens | CL16

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Maybe teasing him so much was not her best idea but all's well that ends well am I right?

A/N: Guys I swear this is the last Christmas fic. But I was listening to Nonsense Christmas by Sabrina Carpenter and my brain immediately spawned this. like I don't even know if this was an innuendo or not but my brain sure as hell thought so.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Warning: This chapter contains non-explicit sexual content

Dinner with your family was always lively. Christmas Eve had everyone in high spirits—your dad cracking his usual corny jokes, your mom fussing over the perfect placement of the centerpiece, and your siblings sneaking cookies before dessert.

And then there was Charles.

Perfect, charming Charles, sitting next to you at the table, effortlessly winning over everyone as usual. He looked good enough to eat, dressed in a snug sweater that hinted at his toned physique and a smile that could have melted the snow outside.

But as much as he seemed at ease, you knew better. You could see it in the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his hand occasionally tightened on the edge of the table, and the barely-there flush on his cheeks.

You had him exactly where you wanted him.

It started small. A lingering touch on his arm as you reached for the butter. “Can you pass that to me, Charles? Thanks, love.”

Your hand brushed his, fingers lingering just a moment too long, and you saw the way his jaw tightened, his smile faltering for the briefest second before he regained his composure.

“Of course,” he replied, his voice smooth but strained.

Then, as your mom brought out the mashed potatoes, you leaned close to him, your lips brushing the shell of his ear under the guise of making conversation. “These are your favorite, right?”

He inhaled sharply, his hand gripping the fork a little tighter. “Oui,” he managed, his accent thicker than usual.

But still, he didn’t break.

Halfway through the meal, you excused yourself to grab the extra bread rolls from the kitchen. On your way back, you “accidentally” brushed against his chair, your hip grazing his thigh and—very deliberately—his crotch.

“Oops,” you said innocently, setting the rolls on the table and glancing at him. “Sorry about that.”

Charles froze for a moment, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his knife and fork. He didn’t look at you, but you caught the way his chest rose and fell a little faster, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he clenched his teeth.

Still, he said nothing, though the storm brewing behind his eyes told you he was hanging on by a thread.

You weren’t done.

After dessert, Charles handed you a beautifully wrapped box. “Open it,” he said, smiling nervously.

Inside were several books you’d been wanting for months.

“Charles,” you breathed, genuinely touched. “These are perfect.”

His face lit up, relief washing over him. “I hoped you’d like them.”

You looked up at him, your smile turning mischievous. “I do. But you know,” you said, your voice dropping just enough for only him to hear, “I think I could use some Charles Dickens too.” 

His brain short-circuited.

Charles coughed, turning his face away as his cheeks burned bright red. “Ah—” He grabbed his water glass, taking a long sip to regain his composure.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, watching the way his hand fisted his napkin, the tension radiating from his entire body.

By the time you said your goodbyes and got into the car, the air was thick with unspoken tension. Charles didn’t say much on the drive home, his hands gripping the wheel tightly, his jaw set as he stared straight ahead.

You glanced at him, amused. “Are you okay?”

His laugh was dry, almost dangerous. “You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, feigning innocence.

He didn’t reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched, and you knew you’d crossed a line.

The moment you stepped through the door, Charles shut it behind you with more force than necessary, spinning you around and pinning you against it. His hands framed your face, his body pressing into yours as his lips hovered just above yours.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done tonight?” he murmured, his voice low and filled with restrained frustration.

You tilted your head, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “I’m not sure. Care to remind me?”

His hand slid down to your hip, gripping it firmly as he pressed closer, his breath hot against your neck. “You’ve been teasing me all night,” he growled. “Brushing against me, whispering in my ear, saying things you know you shouldn’t.”

Your pulse raced, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. “And what are you going to do about it?”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering. “Oh, chérie, you’ve been such a bad girl tonight,” he said, “And I’m going to make sure you understand it.”

Before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours, demanding and punishing. His hands roamed your body, his grip possessive as he dominated the kiss, leaving you breathless and clinging to him.

“You’ve had your fun,” he murmured against your lips, his tone softening but still firm. “Now it’s my turn.”

With that, he scooped you up effortlessly and carried you to the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed with a smirk that made your stomach flip.

“Stay right there,” he commanded, his eyes glinting with anticipation as he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up slowly. “We’re not done yet.”

And as he stalked toward you, you knew you were in for a very memorable Christmas.

You barely had time to catch your breath before Charles was on you, his body moving with a deliberate, unyielding confidence that made your pulse race. He climbed onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress as his hands found your wrists, pinning them above your head with ease.

"Do you know how hard it was to sit through dinner tonight?" he asked, his voice low, each word dripping with restrained intensity. His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Do you know what you did to me?"

Your throat was dry, your heart hammering against your ribcage as his grip on your wrists tightened just enough to make you feel completely at his mercy.

"I-I might have an idea,” you managed, though your voice betrayed you, shaky and breathless.

His laugh was soft but dark, laced with a dangerous sort of amusement. "Oh, chérie, I don't think you do."

His free hand trailed down your arm, his touch featherlight, teasing and unhurried. You squirmed beneath him, heat pooling in your stomach as his fingers traced the line of your collarbone, dipping lower with every pass.

"Be still," he ordered, his tone sharp enough to make you freeze, your body obeying before your mind even registered the command.

The tension in the room was palpable, every nerve in your body attuned to his every movement. You felt the weight of his gaze as he looked down at you, his eyes dark and focused, as though he were memorizing every inch of you.

"You've been such a tease tonight," he murmured, his hand continuing its slow exploration. His fingers skimmed the hem of your sweater, pausing just long enough to make you ache for more. 

"Did you think I wouldn't notice? That I wouldn't do something about it?"

You swallowed hard, your skin prickling under his touch. "Maybe I was hoping you would."

His smirk was devastating, a perfect mix of amusement and dominance. "Careful what you wish for, mon amour."

His lips claimed yours again, the kiss intense and demanding, leaving you breathless. You felt the scrape of his teeth against your lower lip, a sharp contrast to the softness of his tongue as he deepened the kiss, stealing what little control you thought you had left.

When he pulled back, you gasped for air, your chest heaving as his lips moved to your neck, trailing a line of heat that made your toes curl. Every press of his mouth, every scrape of his teeth, sent shockwaves through you, making it impossible to think about anything but him.

"Do you feel that?” he asked, his voice a gravelly whisper as his hand finally slid beneath the hem of your sweater, his crotch brushing against your thigh.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely audible.

His hand moved with deliberate slowness, his touch both teasing and possessive, as though he were staking his claim. "Good," he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw. “Because I want you to remember this. Every. Single. Second."

His words sent a shiver through you, your body arching toward him instinctively, desperate for more.

"Patience," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "You don't get to rush me, not after tonight."

The weight of his words settled over you, and you realized he was doing this on purpose-dragging it out, making you feel every agonizing second of his touch. And it was working.

When he finally moved to shed the sweater you'd worn specifically to catch his attention, his hands were slow, precise, as though unwrapping a gift he intended to savor. The fabric pooled on the bed, leaving you exposed to his gaze, which burned into you.

"You're beautiful," he said, his voice softer now, reverent even. His hand traced a path down your side, his touch igniting sparks everywhere he touched.

Your breaths came in short, shallow bursts as he leaned down, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. "Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you.

"Yes," you whispered, your heart swelling with both anticipation and certainty.

"Good," he said, his lips brushing against your skin. "Then let me show you exactly how bad you've been."

You didn’t know how much time had passed. Your body felt like it had been taken apart and put back together, every nerve alive and buzzing, your muscles trembling in the aftermath.

You were exhausted, but it was a good exhaustion—the kind that left you boneless and utterly content, your heart still racing as you tried to catch your breath.

Beside you, Charles sat up on the edge of the bed, his chest rising and falling as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. His back glistened faintly, his broad shoulders tense for a moment before he exhaled deeply and turned to look at you.

“Mon amour,” he murmured, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. His touch was gentle now, a stark contrast to the way he’d gripped you earlier, his hands firm and unrelenting. “Are you okay?”

You smiled, your voice hoarse from all the times you’d screamed his name. “I’m more than okay.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re amazing,” he said quietly, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Without another word, he stood and disappeared into the bathroom. You heard the sound of water running, and a moment later, he returned with a warm, damp towel. He knelt beside the bed, his movements unhurried as he gently cleaned your skin, murmuring soft reassurances as he worked.

“You pushed me tonight,” he said, his tone teasing but affectionate as he wiped your shoulder. “But I might have pushed you harder. Did I go too far?”

You shook your head, reaching out to touch his arm. “Not at all.”

His lips quirked into a small smile, though his eyes remained serious. “If I ever do, you tell me. Promise?”

“I promise,” you said, squeezing his arm to reassure him.

Satisfied, he set the towel aside and climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms. The heat of his body was soothing, and you curled into him instinctively, resting your head on his chest.

His fingers began tracing lazy patterns on your back, his touch light and soothing. “You completely wore me out,” you mumbled, a soft laugh escaping you.

He laughed too, the sound vibrating against your cheek. “Good,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before teasing me like that.”

“Doubtful,” you murmured, smiling as your eyelids grew heavy.

Charles sighed dramatically, though the smile in his voice was unmistakable. “You’ll never learn, will you?”

“Probably not,” you admitted, your words slurring as sleep began to claim you.

His arms tightened around you, his voice the last thing you heard before slipping into dreams. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep reminding you.”

"Merry Christmas Charlie" 

"Merry Christmas love"

[stargazsblog]

how to lose a girl in 10 days | ch.2 first move

ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

ʚɞ ryomen sukuna is tall, devastatingly handsome, and the campus heartbreaker. everyone knows his name, and his reputation for leaving girls with broken hearts. but then there's you uninterested and completely unimpressed by him. you're the only girl who couldn't care less about him. when his friends tease him about it, everything changes. they challenge him with a bet to make you, the one person who isn't affected by his charm, fall in love with him in just 10 days, sukuna accepts the challenge, thinking it'll be an easy win. it's just a game, a way to prove he can get any girl he wants. but the more time he spends with you, he finds himself wanting something he never expected.

ʚɞ warning/tags: angst, fluff, romance, use of cigarettes and alcohol, jealousy, asshole sukuna, heartbreak, inspired by how to lose a guy in 10 days, college au, enemies to lovers.

ʚɞ now playing - no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys

note: and the game begins…

masterlist

You were still thinking about the party as you got back to your apartment, shaking off the strange vibe that lingered after your conversation with Sukuna. He wasn’t exactly rude, but something about the way he talked, the way he acted so sure of himself, rubbed you the wrong way.

You threw your jacket over the back of your chair, saying goodnight to Shoko as she walked into her room. You plopped onto your bed, pulling your phone from your bag.

You opened Instagram, scrolling through posts finally loving the peace.

Until a notification popped up.

Sukuna Ryomen started following you.

You sat up in shock, staring at your screen. Sukuna had followed you?

Your thumb hovered over the notification, the tension building as you debated your next move. Block him? Ignore him? Or… stalk him?

The smarter choice would’ve been to block him, but knowing yourself, you clicked on his profile.

His account was exactly what you expected.

Post after post of candid photo, Sukuna at some party. A drink in his hand and his arm slung casually around a girl who looked like she’d won the lottery. Sukuna leaning against his car, looking like he’d stepped out of a magazine.

He had thousands of followers. The comments were full of heart emojis and flirty compliments. He had only followed 20 people, mostly his friends and family.

You raised an eyebrow, fighting the growing curiosity. He didn’t follow anyone unless they were important, so… why was he following you?

Ignore it, you told yourself, he’ll get bored eventually.

As your stared at his profile, a second notification popped up.

Sukuna Ryomen sent your a message.

Your stomach flipped.

2:40AM Sukuna Ryomen: took you long enough to notice me

You scowled, your fingers itching to respond. He was so full of himself that it was almost comical.

2:40AM You: is this part of some weird social experiment?

His reply came almost instantly.

2:40AM Sukuna Ryomen: what me following you? nah just curious

2:41AM You: curious about what?

2:41AM Sukuna Ryomen: about what kind of stuff you post don’t worry i won’t judge… much

You rolled your eyes, leaning back against your headboard. the nerve of this guy.

2:41AM You: wow, lucky me

2:41AM Sukuna Ryomen: relax sweetheart i’m just here to see if you’re as boring online as you are in person

Your jaw dropped. He had to be kidding. You stared at the screen, debating weather to let the conversation die or put him in his place.

2:42AM You: bold words for someone who posts the same three poses over and over

This time, there was a pause before replying. When it came it was shorter than you expected.

2:42AM Sukuna Ryomen: touché

For a moment, you almost smiled.

2:42AM You: now that you’ve satisfied your “curiosity” you can go ahead and unfollow me

2:42AM Sukuna Ryomen: nah i’ll stick around

You sighed, swiping away from his message leaving him on seen. You stared at the screen, the notification still visible: Sukuna Ryomen started following you.

You glanced at his profile one more time. The same images, the same cocky smirk in every picture.

With a deep breath, you pressed follow back.

For a moment nothing happened, you set your phone down and let out a slow exhale, almost feeling dumb for replying to him.

Just as you were about to close the app and convince yourself it doesn’t matter, your phone buzzed.

2:50AM Sukuna Ryomen: i knew you couldn’t resist

You rolled your eyes, a smile hugging at the corner of your lips.

2:50AM You: don’t get too cocky

2:50AM Sukuna Ryomen: too late already am

2:50AM You: your unbearable

2:50AM Sukuna Ryomen: only when i’m around you

You stared at the screen, for a moment, unsure how to respond. He was good at this, good at getting under your skin, making you react, and you had to admit it was starting to feel like he wasn’t just messing around.

2:51AM You: we’ll see how long that lasts

2:51AM: Sukuna Ryomen: i’ll be around as long as you let me.

A little shiver ran down your spine at his words, but you pushed it aside. You weren’t ready to admit how much you were starting to look forward to whatever this way.

Sukuna was following you everywhere. You meant it everywhere.

It doesn’t matter if you were grabbing a coffee, sitting in class, or heading to the library, whatever you were doing he was there. Sometimes he would be leaning against the wall, staring at you as you walked by, other times he would be scrolling through his phone like he just happened to be in the same place.

At first, you thought it was a coincidence. After all, it wasn’t like you owned the campus. But by the fourth time in a single day? Yeah, no. He was definitely following you.

You were midway through highlighting your notes when the chair across from you scraped against the floor. The sudden sound made you glance up, and there he was. Sukuna Ryomen.

“Are you stalking me now?” you asked, glancing back to your notes.

“Stalking is a strong word,” Sukuna's voice drawled, too close for comfort. “We just happen to be in the same place at the same time.”

You sighed, as you spun back to face him, he’s leaning back casually on the chair, one arm draped over the chair next to him.

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

You crossed your arms. “Pretty sure we already had that conversation. Last night.”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Yeah, but you didn’t say anything interesting, figured I’d give you another chance.”

You let out a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.” there was something about the way he was staring at you, like you were a puzzle he was trying to solve. “Why are you even bothering me? you’ve got half of the campus eating out your hand, and i’m not interested in joining the club.”

Sukuna leaned forward, just enough to make your knees touch. “Because you’re the only one who doesn’t care.” his tone was softer now, the change caught you off guard.

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “how tragic for you.”

he grinned. “See that’s why I like you.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding harder than you wanted to admit. What was he even talking about? he didn’t know you.

“You don’t even know me,” you said, your voice quieter now.

“Not yet,” he said simply, as if the answer was obvious.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have actual work to do.” you said bluntly, closing your notebook with a snap.

You stood up, gathering your things quickly, but Sukuna wasn’t done. As you walked away, his voice followed you. “See you around, sweetheart.”

“I’m telling you, he’s obsessed. First, he’s showing up wherever you are, second, he’s following you on Instagram. classic Sukuna move.” Shoko says as you guys are seated at a small table in the student lounge.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, and now he’s everywhere I go. It’s like he’s trying to prove something.”

Shoko raises an eyebrow. “Maybe he is. I mean, it’s Sukuna. He doesn’t exactly follow people around for no reason.”

You scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean? He follows around half the campus trying to get in their pants.”

“Yeah, but those girls usually throw themselves at him. You…” Shoko gestures vaguely at you. “…don’t. He’s probably intrigued.”

you snort. “Well, he’s wasting his time. I’m not interested.”

Before Shoko can respond, Sukuna’s voice cuts through the chatter. “Ouch. That hurts.”

Both of you look up as Sukuna strolls over, his signature smirk firmly in place. He’s holding a small paper bag in one hand, the other resting casually in his pocket.

Shoko grins and leans back in her chair, clearly ready to enjoy whatever’s about to happen.

“Talking about me?” His voice carries just the right amount of smugness as he stops by your table. “I can feel the love from here.”

You glare up at him, unimpressed. “Love? please your delusional.”

Ignoring your sarcasm, Sukuna slides the bag closer to you. “Here. Thought you’d like this.”

You looked at the bag like it might explode. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“Open it,” Sukuna says, leaning back in his chair, watching you carefully.

You side-eyed him before reaching for the bag, you’re fingerings brushing against the paper as you peek inside. Your favorite snacks are in there.

You looked up at him confused. “How did you know these are my favorite?”

Sukuna shrugs like it’s no big deal, “I have my ways.”

You narrowed your eyes, a mix of suspicion and frustration bubbling up inside you. “That’s not an answer. Are you really stalking me?” It all felt too strange to ignore. First, he found your Instagram without you ever mentioning it. Then, he seemed to show up wherever you were. What was next—was he going to start lurking outside your house?

He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt. “Stalk you? What kind of guy do you think I am?”

You don’t buy it for a second. “The kind who’s trying way too hard.”

“Or the kind who pays attention,” Sukuna counters smoothly, his voice dropping a fraction as he leans forward.

The words hang in the air for a moment, and even Shoko raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the show.

You stiffen but recover quickly, crossing your arms again. “You really think this is going to work? Snacks and flirty comments?”

“It’s a start,” Sukuna says with a lazy grin, standing up. “By the way, there’s a party tomorrow night. You should come.”

You don’t hesitate. “Not interested.”

Sukuna shrugs, completely unbothered by the rejection. “I wasn’t asking. I’ll see you there.”

He winks, turning and walking away without waiting for your response

Shoko finally speaks, her tone laced with curiosity. “What was that?”

You rolled your eyes, stuffing the bag into your tote. “Nothing. He’s only doing this to try to get me into his bed. It’s his thing.”

Shoko studies you for a moment, her voice thoughtful. “I don’t know. That didn’t seem like that to me.”

You huff, shoving your drink away. “Whatever. I’m not falling for it.”

Shoko grins, standing up and grabbing her bag. “You don’t have to fall for anything. But we’re going to that party.”

Your head snaps up. “What? No, we’re not.”

“Oh, yes, we are.” Shoko pulls her chair back, already starting to walk away. “I need to see where this goes. Plus, free drinks. You’re coming, no arguments.”

You groaned, grabbing your things to follow her. “You’re the worst.”

“And you love me for it,” Shoko calls over her shoulder, grinning.

Sukuna didn’t realize how hard this was going to be. Day one of the challenge, and you were already proving to be unlike anyone he’d dealt with before.

It was frustrating and intriguing.

He had done his research, of course. Stalking your social media was step one, but even that had been harder than he expected. Your profiles were understated. No attention-seeking selfies, no overly revealing posts. Just snapshots of books, obscure playlists, and the occasional candid photo with friends.

“I can’t figure her out,” he had muttered late one night, scrolling through your feed for what felt like the hundredth time.

That’s when he realized he needed help.

“You really don’t know anything about her?” Geto had asked, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned back against Sukuna’s desk.

“She’s invisible,” Sukuna muttered, tossing his phone onto the table. “No parties, no drama, no clue what she’s into. It’s like she’s living on a different planet.”

Geto smirked. “Sounds like someone’s not used to working for it.”

Sukuna shot him a glare, but Geto just shrugged. “Relax. I’ve got this.”

The next day, Geto cornered Shoko during a break between classes. He made it look casual, of course just two old friends catching up. But Geto had a knack for reading people, and Shoko wasn’t hard to crack.

“She’s into the little things,” Shoko had said, blowing out a puff of smoke from her cigarette. “You know, stuff that actually matters. Like, she’s not going to fall for some big, flashy gesture. She likes thoughtful things her favorite snacks, a good book, stuff like that.”

By the time Geto reported back, Sukuna had a plan. It was subtle, sure, but he could work with that.

After handing you the snacks, He strolled back to his usual spot with Gojo and Geto, settling down next to them with a frustrated sigh.

“So, any luck with her?” Gojo asked, not missing a beat.

Sukuna set his drink down, running a hand through his hair as he slouched in his chair. “Not as easy as I thought. You guys are right—no amount of flashing a smile and throwing out my usual charm is going to work on her.”

Geto smirked, leaning forward. “She’s in your head, huh?”

Gojo chuckled, propping his chin on his hand. “This is new. Sukuna Ryomen, struggling to win over a girl? What’s next, you’re gonna write her a love poem?”

Sukuna shot them both a glare, his jaw tightening. “Laugh it up,” he muttered. “But I’m not backing down.”

Geto raised a brow. “You sound almost impressed.”

“Maybe I am,” Sukuna said, a glint of determination sparking in his eyes. “And maybe that’s what makes this fun. I invited her to the party.”

Geto and Gojo both blinked, momentarily stunned by Sukuna’s straightforwardness.

“You invited her to the party?” Gojo asked, leaning forward in surprise. “Bold move. What’s the plan there? Just charm her in front of the whole crowd?”

Sukuna shrugged, but there was something sharper in his expression now. “It will work. I don’t think she’s the type to fall for a big scene, but if I show her I’m not like the others, she’ll bite eventually.”

Gojo chuckled. “You’re really going for the slow burn, huh?”

“Exactly.” Sukuna’s lips curved into a confident grin. “She won’t see it coming.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “You’ve got, what, few more days to make this work? Good luck, man.”

Sukuna smirked, not looking away from you as you stood up, chatting with Shoko. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

Later that night, you were lying in bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, trying to forget the strange encounter with Sukuna earlier. Your mind kept drifting back to the way he’d smiled when he handed you your favorite snack, the way his eyes seemed to linger on you just a second too long.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. You glanced at the screen, and your stomach flipped when you saw his name. Hesitating for a moment, you opened the message.

11:30PM Sukuna Ryomen: hope i see you at the party tomorrow sweetheart wouldn’t be the same without you

Attached to the text was the party’s address.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto the pillow beside you. Why did he have to be so persistent? And You told yourself you wouldn’t go—there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction.

But as you stared at the message again, a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go.

taglist: @clp-84 @ssetsuka @lymsfm @monic19 @bol0-de-morang0 @strxberryicecream @r0ckst4rjk @gojocumslut @elliebelliegi @kazuuhali @luna-v-roiya @sussiesushi @nakiich @mourart7 @neuvilletteswife4ever @rusted-dolly @blueyesuguru @lillycore @yourhornysister @bnbaochauuu @ferretsqueen @anonnieghost @boogiemansbitch @sukubusss @sterzin @miazzzma @silkija @blueemochii @number0netrash

[multi-fandom-imagine]

My little girl || Jason Todd ||

A/n: 6am, can't get girl dad Jason out of my head.

It was an accident, on how he found out. I mean it's not like he knew the little slip of paper had it written out.

A girl

Jason froze. The words on the paper hit him harder than he expected. A girl. He was having a daughter. His chest tightened, his throat felt dry, and before he could stop himself, tears welled up in his eyes. He quickly rubbed at them, embarrassed by his own reaction, but the realization overwhelmed him.

Sitting on the couch, his hand trembling as he slid the paper away he couldn't stop thinking.

A little girl. His little girl.

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. He thought of all the things he wanted to protect her from, all the ways he would be there for her the ways no one had been there for him when he was young. He thought about you, and how their daughter would undoubtedly inherit your warmth and strength. And for the first time in a long time, Jason let himself cry not out of anger or pain, but out of pure, unfiltered joy.

Jason had always been good at keeping secrets. It was practically part of his job description as Red Hood. But this? This was different. Knowing you two were having a girl was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and keeping it from you felt like torture.

While at home you had noticed something was off almost immediately. Jason was fidgety, overly attentive, and kept sneaking glances at your belly with a grin he couldn’t quite hide.

“What’s going on with you?” You asked one evening, narrowing your eyes as you caught him staring. “You’re acting weird.”

Jason froze mid-bite of his sandwich, quickly covering. “Weird? Me? Nah, I’m fine.”

You smirked, folding your arms. “Jason Peter Todd, I know you. Spill.”

He shook his head, standing abruptly. “I can’t! I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He practically fled to the kitchen, leaving you staring after him, your suspicions growing.

A few days later, Jason’s excitement finally got the better of him. They were lying in bed, you curled up against him as you two talked about baby names. Jason had been trying desperately to keep the secret, but when you mentioned the possibility of a boy, he couldn’t help himself.

“Okay, but what about girl names?” he blurted out, his tone too enthusiastic to ignore.

You tilted your head up to look at him, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you so focused on girl names all of a sudden?”

Jason froze, realizing his mistake. “Uh no reason? I mean, just you know, in case.”

You sat up, your smirk returning. “Jason. You know, don’t you?”

Jason groaned, running a hand down his face. “Damn it. I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait. Are we having a girl?”

Jason sighed, then smiled, his joy impossible to hide. “Yeah. We’re having a girl.”

Your hands flew to your mouth, tears springing to your eyes. “Jason why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he admitted, pulling you into his arms. “But I couldn’t help it. Y/n, we’re having a little girl. I’ve always wanted a daughter. I didn’t even think I’d get to have a family, let alone this.” His voice cracked slightly, as you kissed him softly.

“We’re so lucky,” you whispered, your own tears mingling with his. “She’s going to have the best dad in the world.”

Jason held you close, his hand resting protectively over your stomach. “And the best mom,” he said quietly. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she knows how much she’s loved.”

As you two sat there together, the secret finally out, Jason felt an overwhelming sense of peace. He was going to be a dad to a little girl, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly whole.

[tsukuhoe]

13. who's the cute boy with the white sweatshirt

the coffee shop buzzed with its usual morning rush, the scent of espresso mingling in the air. you stepped inside the coffee shop, your sundress swayed lightly with the movement. a soft white rosalia midi sundress dotted with a yellow floral print seemed to carry a piece of summer into the shop. you glanced at your watch— enough time before the table read started. 

you walked up to the register, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you studied the menu. 

“good morning!” the barista greeted you. “what can i get for you?” 

“hmm,” you murmured, your voice soft but thoughtful. “a vanilla latte with two shots of espresso and a rose cold foam, please.” 

“right. your order will be soon! love your dress by the way, has anyone told you that you look a lot like y/n l/n?” 

“yes...! i get that a lot! thank you.” 

as you waited, your eyes wandered, taking in the shop's interior. your gaze brushed over a familiar-looking raven-haired man with multiple facial piercings and gauges. his hair was tied ​​half up and for a brief moment, your eyes met. you smiled, the kind of small, polite smile you give a stranger, but it felt like a spark anyway. 

when your drink was ready, you picked it up, fingers curling delicately around the cup. as you turned toward the door, your shoulder collided with someone. the next thing you knew, your latte was splashed across the floor and the person’s white sweatshirt. 

“fuck, i’m so sorry!” you exclaimed, panicking at the mess you made. looking up to see the guy you spilt your latte on. his purple eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, you forgot about the sticky, rapidly cooling liquid soaking into his clothes. 

“no, it’s okay,” he said quickly, though the words came out more irritated than he intended. “i wasn’t paying attention.” 

“neither was i,” you admitted, setting your cup down on a nearby table. “here, let me help.” you grabbed a stack of napkins from the counter and handed him a few, keeping the rest to blot the floor. 

he stood and ran a hand through his messy dark hair as you got on your knees, trying to wipe the hem on his sweatshirt, hoping it wouldn’t stain the white. his face flushing, then turning it away from your downward view. your sundress’s cleavage gave an invasive view from the angle and the position you were in didn’t help his mind to not lead to sexual thoughts. 

“i feel terrible. how much was this sweater? i’ll pay for it.” you asked, still focused on the stain. 

“you know, normally, people would ask for an autograph instead of offering money.” he chuckled, grabbing your arm and picking you up to look at him. 

“huh? i’m sorry, i don’t quite understand...." he smirked. then it clicked. you realized who you were looking at. "wait, are you suguru geto?” 

“the one and only,” he nodded with a sweet smile on his face. “and you’re y/n l/n, right? i’ve seen you a few times on the news and radio.” 

you eagerly nodded back. this was the suguru geto. the one that played a huge part in the indie music industry. the one that went on an indefinite hiatus five years ago. 

“can i buy you another drink?” he asked, snapping you out of your shocked state. you hesitated, glancing at your watch. you were going to be late if you waited any longer. fuck. “i don’t really have time—”

“or,” he interrupted, holding up a hand, “you could take this.” the raven-haired slid a sleek, black stainless steel tumbler across the counter towards you.

you frowned. “what’s this?”

“my coffee. black, no sugar,” he said, a sheepish grin tugging at his pierced lips. “i’m a little obsessed with punctuality, so i always leave early. you, on the other hand, seem like you’re cutting it close.”

you stared at him, a mix of gratitude and disbelief swirling in her chest. “you’re just… giving me your coffee?”

“think of it as an apology.”

you accepted the tumbler reluctantly. “okay, but only if you let me pay you back for that sweater.”

“deal,” he said, slipping a card out of his wallet and scribbling something on the back with a pen from his pocket. “here’s my number. text me when you’ve got time, and we’ll call it even.”

album bonus tracks: — SUGURU !!! — i have this huge hc of suguru having facial piercings n tats — he has an eyebrow piercing, snake bites, labret piercing, industrial, helix (and tits!) pierced! — and tats are placed on his upper left arm to neck <33 (idk if u can tell but i love body decor) — also on the topic of piercings n tats, choso has SO MANY (which we'll talk about some other time) — excited to update more (if u couldn't tell by my little spree lately) ⋮ MASTERLIST  ֹ⋮  PREVIOUS  ⋮  ֹNEXT  ⋮

. ꒷ TAG LIST .ᐟ.ᐟ [CLOSED 50/50] @celloccino @shokosbunny @nymphsdomain @alpha-mommy69 @soulairess @poopooindamouf @reyna-isabellaa @justamina-blog @koreluvsspring @mayhemfellasleep @clamousera @roxy776699 @l-ilysm @ayla-1605 @kaemaybae @starmapz @gigiiiiislife @puppyminnnie @desideityy @yuhig-blog @kaiiibxby @ami20019 @kentochronicles @missthatgirl @lauuriiiz @emi311 @lunavelha @coffeeisbehindyou @freakadelick @theclassbookworm @ladytamayolover @tojirin @fuckisthatahotghost @odxrilove @perqbeth @rxi-n-lyche3 @sugoroo @mentallyunpresent @naviaberries @wil10wthetree @thesharkcollector @harryzcherry @ghost-buddies @tearshedder @mourn1ng-dov3 @hellokittyish @good-mourning0 @shoma-nom @elegancefr @norikuna

[st8rkey]

cannot get enough of your stories — just gonna dump my thoughts while reading 🤍🤍 it’s gonna be a long dump probably so excuse me. for some reason the reblog was gone so sorry if you see this twice 😭

—

Rafe skates toward the middle, grinning as his teammates mob him, but once that celebration breaks apart, he turns to the student section, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, staring directly at you, smiling, sealing the deal with a cheeky wink.

oh WOW. this is like the hottest thing ever?? the way he turns around to look at her, smiling and then WINKING TOO?! this is why i can’t get enough of your stories – you always make me giggle like a 6-year-old girl 😫😫

—

“No invite?” He fake pouts and you feel your body recoil when you hear it.

i would be laughing my ass off if someone did this to me. embarrassing much? get the fuck out ❤️

“She’s with me,” Rafe’s voice rolls through your mind like a sweet dream.

yes sir!! 🫡🫡 whatever you say

Before you can overthink it, you rise onto your tippy toes, kissing his cheek. Rafe freezes, a soft, shy smile spreading on his lips, making her feel weak.

oh this is too cute. the shy smile.. please i’m gonna throw my phone across the room.

—

“You know…” He says, his words slightly slurred. “I’ve had a big fat crush on you all semester.”

“You are so fuckin’ pretty.” You laugh and shake your head. “What?” He asks bashfully.

“I’ve had a crush on you too,” you admit..

“The fuck you have?” He asks as he pulls back fast.

DO YOU WANT ME DEAD???? ☺️☺️ “The fuck you have?” i’m pulling my hair out. your stories never fail to amaze me in every way possible.

—

the man quickly shushing you with a finger up to his pretty lips and a playful smile like you had anything to do with that noise.

i can’t stop laughing at this 😭😭 the way you write smut with these funny moments mixed in is just amazing.

“Fuck, yeah…” He hums as he fingers the button of your jeans. “Let me get you good and wet first, hmm?” He asks as he rolls you against the wall. — i had to put my phone down for a minute, needed to catch my breath.

“Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.” — i don’t even know what to say, im dumbfounded.

—

“We doin’ condoms or what, princess?”

“Boyfriend privileges,”

their banter is the cutest thing ever.

—

Rafe grabs your hand, flipping it over, pen hovering over your palm. You watch as he works: his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his chicken scratch handwriting tattooing your skin, but the words stop your heart.

Tomorrow night 7 pm Luna Rosa I like you a lot -RC

oh my god. literally just oh my god.

what did tumblr do to deserve you, HELLO?

twenty-five days. so so proud of you!! i just have no words with how much i love your account. you never fail to amaze me 🥹❤️ you deserve a standing ovation for all the work you’ve put into this and all your other stories.

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖: 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟’ 𝕃𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕪

𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: mutual pining, swearing, drinking, rafe and the reader are intoxicated, oral (male + female receiving), bathroom sex, semi-public sex, spanking, unprotected p in v, pullout method, rough oral, dirty talk, praise wet + messy, cum tasting

📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! When you're getting hit on by a loser at your local college bar “boyfriend” Rafe comes in to save the day.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

The crowd's roar is deafening as you sit pressed against the glass of the college hockey area. The game had barely begun, but the energy was already electric—hit after hit, shot after shot. Your friend Lexi shouts and claps, pulling you out of your daze as she bangs her wool mittens against the glass.

Rafe Cameron… Your eyes track him as he streams by confidently, his red and black jersey rippling behind him as he skates, dodging the defenseman on his way to the net.

You smile, biting your lip as you look at the man before you. He sat two rows ahead of you in your accounting class, the two of you exchanging no more than two words all year. Still, there’s just something about him that has your heart racing every time you see him.

“You’re staring,” your friend smiles, looking at you from the corner of her eye. She lifts her draft beer to her lips, grinning against the rim before sipping.

“What?” You giggle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. “Am not.” You lie as the warmth of your little crush creeps up your neck, pooling hot in your cheeks.

“Yes, you are, she teases. “And, honestly, I don’t blame you…”

You roll your eyes away, but you can’t get the smile off your face. Rafe skates by the student section, glancing briefly at the glass as he cleans the snow off his stick. The corners of his lips curl into a smile, making your pulse skip, but you quickly shake it off.

I mean, it was a good shift… He had to be happy about that; you explain it away.

After the game wore on, the players moved faster, hits got harder, and the scoreboard stayed locked at an even 2 to 2. You could feel the determination and intensity radiating off him every time he hit the ice; you couldn’t take your eyes off him—like you would’ve regardless.

With less than a minute of play, Rafe broke away from the traffic with the puck on his stick. The crowd rose to its feet, getting louder and louder the closer he got until he drew his stick back and fired at the net. The sound of the rubber puck clanged off the pipe, and the crowd went wild when the red light flashed. The buzzer drones, its sound quickly swallowed up in the Goal Song.

You jump to your feet, clapping and cheering with the crowd. Rafe skates toward the middle, grinning as his teammates mob him, but once that celebration breaks apart, he turns to the student section, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, staring directly at you, smiling, sealing the deal with a cheeky wink.

There was no mistaking it… The look, the smile, the wink. It was meant for you and you alone.

“Did you see that?” Your friend screams before you can even fully process what happened.

“I… Uh…” You stammer, looking at her to confirm what you saw before you say anything, knowing full-well she could be asking about the goal and not Rafe.

“Oh, please,” Lexi scoffs teasingly as she shoves you away. “That shit was for you, and you know it.”

The car ride to the bar was filled with music and laughter. You can't help but get lost in your thoughts. Replaying that moment a few times before opening Instagram, fingers hovering over the search bar.

“Just do it,” your friend laughs, watching it all; face twisting slightly as she catches you debating.

“I didn't ask you,” you chide light-heartedly.

“You’re thinkin’ about followin’ him… Just do it,” she challenges you.

“Do you think that he would have followed me if he was interested?” You ask as you look at his handsome profile picture.

You hesitate for another second, looking through a couple of his newer pictures. And just when you’re about to take the plunge, you look up at the little heart in the right-hand corner, seeing a new notification. New follower, Rafe Cameron.

Your eyes widen on the screen, and you and your friend gasp in unison. Before you can even think about it further, she clicks the little blue confirm button for you.

“What the hell?” You scold her, slapping her away.

“I’m invested, I’m sorry,” she laughs. “What? Were you gonna say ‘no’?” You shake your head ‘no’ and smile, looking at your new friend, feeling your excitement rise.

The bar downtown is packed with post-game and Saturday night traffic. The music is loud, and the energy is high as students pour in to celebrate the hockey team’s win and the start of winter break. You push through the crowd, making your way up to the bar. You order a few mixed drinks before snapping some pictures.

”Ooh,” Lexi coos. “That one’s perfect.”

You upload the pic of the two of you holding drinks, tagging the bar. It wasn’t entirely intentional—or that’s what you told yourself. If Rafe just happens to see it and shows up? Well, that was just a beautiful coincidence.

The night rages on, drinks flowing, conversations blending into laughter, more friends arriving, turning your little group of two into a full-on party. You start to relax a little more, feeling the liquor course through your system, and then you feel something else as a large hand rests on your lower back.

“Hey, Babe.”

Your eyes widen, and you freeze, hearing a voice you were not expecting nor wanted to hear. You turn slowly, coming face-to-face with Mark, a guy from your accounting class, too. The kind of guy who made you excited about the semester’s end. Unfortunately, he was the type of guy who never took ‘no’ for an answer…

“Hi, Mark,” you mumble, keeping your tone flat and uninterested, knowing that even the slightest bit of kindness would be confused for much more.

“You looking stunning tonight,” he praises as he steps even closer, making you take one step back.

“Thanks,” you sigh.

“You here with anyone?” He asks curiously as he scans the crowd. Your friend looks between the two of you—her judgment of his hidden piss-poorly. The girl was unapologetically Team Rafe all the way, and Mark Lundell is no Rafe Cameron.

“Just my friends,” you say as you swirl your finger around lazily, gesturing to your group gathered around.

“No invite?” He fake pouts and you feel your body recoil when you hear it. Mark seems to notice your disdain, but it doesn't stop him from trying. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. You rest your hand on his chest, pushing away slightly, but he doesn’t get the hint.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you-”

“No thanks,” you shout over the music, not even curious about what he meant to ask.

He chuckles and scoffs playfully, turning his hat to the back as he moves his face closer. “Hey-Hey, don’t be like that,” he soughs.

You close your eyes, swallowing thickly as he continues to talk, wondering what it’s gonna take to get him to fuck off- “She’s with me,” Rafe’s voice rolls through your mind like a sweet dream.

You turn, breath catching as you see Rafe walking in, just a few feet separating the two of you with his big hands stuffed in his jacket. His sharp gaze locks on Mark, and he gives him a little whistle and a nod, kindly telling him to ‘fuck off.’

Mark scowls, looking down at you and then Rafe. “Cameron?” He asks. The two boys are familiar with each other from the gym locker room—exchanging glances when the baseball boys leave and the hockey boys arrive.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says smoothly, eliminating the space between you. Your heart stutters at the word, but Rafe doesn’t miss a beat, reaching behind you to shove Mark out of the way before taking his “rightful” place at your side.

“Since when?” Mark asks as his expressions shifts.

“Since none of your fuckin’ business, Lundell,” Rafe smiles, his tone calm but firm.

“You know, if you’re not interested, you can just say that,” Mark snaps, recovering from his bruised ego by turning to the bartender, gesturing for a new bottle of Coors. “You don’t need to be a fuckin’ bitch-”

“The fuck was that now?” Rafe smiles, his eyes wide and wild as he separates from you, standing toe-to-toe with him. Mark doesn’t back down, his chest puffed as he looks slightly up at Rafe.

Rafe bites his lips, holding back a laugh, his relaxed demeanor’s somehow more intimidating than any show of aggression.

“Call her a fuckin’ bitch again, and we’re gonna have a problem…”

“Oh, yeah-”

“Honestly, bitch. We already have problems because regardless of who the fuck I am, she told you no… And you kept pushin’,” Rafe hisses, emphasizing the final word with a rough shove.

Mark’s a big guy himself, who doesn’t move too far, but the contact made him flinch, leaving Rafe holding back yet another chuckle.

“Walk away,” Rafe mumbles, his voice low and steady.

Mark’s dark eyes lock on yours. The bartender walks over, resting his beer on the bar top. He takes his out, snagging the bottle off the hardwood before rolling his eyes and sucking his teeth, disappearing into the thick college crowd.

You breathe deeply, letting out the deep breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in, quickly turning your attention to Rafe.

“You okay?” He asks protectively as he twists toward you.

You look up at him, your heart racing, and you nod, “Yeah… Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” he shrugs it off. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, making your heart race, lighting you on fire as he flags down the bartender himself. “You want a drink, princess?”

Before you can overthink it, you rise onto your tippy toes, kissing his cheek. Rafe freezes, a soft, shy smile spreading on his lips, making her feel weak.

“Truly… Thank you,” you whisper. “Do you want a drink? It’s on me,” you assure me, turning your attention to the bartender as she arrives, but you can tell Rafe’s mind is still stuck on the kiss. “Rafe?” You giggle, resting your hand on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath.

“Uh… Yeah. I’d love that, sweetheart. A Coors. Thanks.”

You order your drink, and Rafe reaches over you, his arms a little longer. He passes the bartender his card instead, starting a tab as you protest, but he just rolls his blue eyes and smiles.

The rest of the night is a blur of laughter, easy conversation, and alcohol. Rafe’s charming, funny, and much more than the reserved guy you had seen in class.

You talk about everything—school, hockey, your favorite places in town—and with every passing minute, your little crush blooms into something more. You feel comfortable, like you’ve known each other forever. And to Mark and the rest of the bar, that little boyfriend title he used honestly looked like the real thing.

At some point, the drinks catch up with the both of you. Rafe leans closer, his breath warm against your neck, making you turn into him. The boy quickly pulling you up onto his lap.

“You know…” He says, his words slightly slurred. “I’ve had a big fat crush on you all semester.”

Your eyes widen on his, hands resting on his chest as your mouth falls open in surprise. “You have?” You practically gasp, making him laugh at how happy you look with his admittance.

“Mhmm,” he hums as he wraps his big arms around your waist, moving closer. “You’re so—fuck,” he chuckles as the words get caught on his lips. “You are so fuckin’ pretty.” You laugh and shake your head. “What?” He asks bashfully.

“You, Rafe Cameron, are the prettiest boy I have ever seen-”

“I’m pretty?” He chuckles, lifting his eyebrow as he points to his chest.

“Mhmm…” You giggle.

“Well, shit… Thank you,” he smiles and flutters his lashes playfully.

Just like Mark did, Rafe grabs his hat, twisting it to the back, trying to eliminate the space between the two of you, but unlike the boy before, your tummy only fills with butterflies. Rafe tips his heavy head against your temple, chuckling drunkenly.

“I’ve had a crush on you too,” you admit, and as soon as the last word leaves your lips, he’s wrapping his big arms around you, pressing a rough, wet kiss against your cheek, making you squeal.

“The fuck you have?” He asks as he pulls back fast.

“I’m serious," you giggle as you turn to the side, looking directly into his gorgeous eyes.

Rafe bites his lip, studying yours, his glassy gaze hanging at half-mast. “Well, shit… S’my lucky night. Huh?” He asks.

“Feelin’ pretty lucky myself,” you whisper as the two of you get closer and closer. The air between you feels electric—charged with the buzz of too many drinks and sexual tension. Rafe’s gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, the two of you not realizing how close you’re getting until your lips connect.

The bar around you hums in the distance, and it feels like just the two of you for the moment. It’s uncoordinated—but perfect in its imperfection. Your lips move against his, making heat radiate through your body. Rafe smiles against your lips; you return the same, the pair of you pulling apart, giggling like teenagers caught in the act.

You look at Rafe—that same fire lit his eyes that’s burning in yours. He holds your cheeks in his hands, desperate to kiss him again.

“Should we-”

”We should,” you hum.

“Do that again. Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you giggle. Rafe guides you off the stool, pulling closer, the two of you stumbling slightly, giggling before your lips find each other again.

“We’re kinda drunk,” he whispers against your mouth.

“Is that okay?” You breathe, just hoping he’ll say ‘yes.’

“It’s okay with me. Is it okay with you, princess?” He asks.

“It’s okay-” You pant as your lips crash into his, warm and messy. You let out a soft moan against his lips, hands scratching into the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands roam your body. His grip on you is firm—yet another assurance that he wants you just as bad.

The world spins around you, your head fuzzy from the drinks and your perfect kiss. You break away just enough to grab his hand, tugging him toward the hallway. "Where are we-" Rafe starts, but you cut him short with another kiss, this one hungrier, more insistent.

"The bathroom," you whisper against his lips, feeling him smile again. Rafe draws back, looking both ways before opening the door. The two of you kiss your way inside, pushing back into the first open stall.

Rafe grabs your hips in his big hands, pulling you into him. You can feel his semi-hard cock pressed against his jeans, getting stiffer every second. You let out a breathy sigh against his soft, sweet mouth, Rafe taking the opportunity to slide his tongue inside as his lips move against yours.

He rolls his back against the bathroom wall, making you gasp as his thigh splits your legs. He leans back slightly, guiding you closer, leading you to grind your aching clit on his upper thigh. Rafe smiles against your lips as you take his wordless direction. He moves his hands from his lips to your ass, squeezing as you rock with the tempo of your kiss.

You gasp as you feel his cool hands rest against your tummy, your little breath turning into a deep, needy moan as he cups your laced-covered breasts in his rough hands.

You continue to grind as his lips press roughly against your neck, sucking with a bruising strength as you feel a warmth spread through you, little pangs of pleasure spurring from between your thighs.

You draw back slightly, biting your lip as you ride his leg. Rafe stares back at you, the look in his eyes painting a filthy picture of the two of you doing so much more. Thinking about you riding him just like this, your warm, wet cunt hugging him tight.

You can feel yourself soaking through your panties with each swivel of your hips. You grab his beautiful face, pulling him in for another kiss, hungry for more. “Rafe,” you whisper needily, your name leaving his lips so sweetly, making him moan into your kiss.

“Yeah, pretty?” He rasps, this voice sweet and thick like honey.

“Can I?” You ask shyly, but honestly, it’s why you brought him in here in the first place, desperately wanting your lips wrapped around him and maybe more…

“Can you what, princess?” He drawls before taking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting and tugging, making chills fall down your spine.

“Can I suck your cock?” You ask gently, feeling Rafe let out a breathy laugh like he can’t believe those words are leaving your sweet lips.

“You sure, baby?” He asks as he reaches his hand down, already working on his button.

You move down to your knees, looking at him through your lashes. “M’sure,” you smile. “Very, very sure.”

You grope his clothed cock with one hand, drawing his zipper down with the other before lowering his pants just enough, looking at his dick tented under the cotton, a wet stain of precum gathered on it. You wrap your lips around his tip, wetting Rafe’s boxers, making his breath catch in his muscular chest.

You suck the taste off, quickly pulling down his boxers too. Your eyelashes flutter as you take him in, his tip still weeping precum, long and thick… You release a desperate moan, thinking about what his length would feel like pushing in and out of your wet cunt, wondering if you could take him all.

You stroke him slowly, watching his eyes fall shut, head falling back on the metal partition. Your heart sinks a little, seeing his head sticking out over the top of the stall about four inches; those concerns quickly wave away as you hear a deep groan leave his lips.

Rafe looks down at you again as you hold his throbbing dick in your hand, running your tongue along his length before teasing the tip. Your hand drifts under his t-shirt, fingers working up his cut abs, feeling the little divots under your fingers deepening with each sharp breath he takes.

“Shit,” he pants as you bind your lips around him fully. Rafe wraps his hand around the top of the bathroom door, squeezing tightly as you take him to the back of your throat, bobbing again and again.

Rafe’s head falls back, knocking against the wall, making his eyes double at the loud sound; the man quickly shushing you with a finger up to his pretty lips and a playful smile like you had anything to do with that noise.

You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking, causing him to buck his toned hips, pitching his long cock in your throat. You lift your hand, slipping it through the slight space between his body and jeans, cupping his heavy balls in your hands.

"Fuck, princess," he groans, "I’m gonna cum.” You take your cue, gagging on him, salvia and precum drooling out of the sides of your lips. He bites his lips, stiffening deep moan.

You rest your hands on his thighs— Rafe’s muscles quivering underneath your palms. He cups the back of your head in his hands, tugging you as close as he can get as he cums deep in your throat.

His breath shudders as you draw out the last bits of his pleasure, swallowing it all as he looks down at you in a drunken, lust-ridden daze. Rafe pushes out a sharp breath as you pull off his cock nice and slow, cleaning off your lips with the back of your hand as he helps you off the floor, leading you back to him. You pant into your kiss, your deep breathing competing with his. “That was so fucking good,” he mumbles.

“Mmm… Glad I could make you feel good,” you whisper as you tug up his boxers, trapping his hard cock in the band of it, not wanting to pressure him into more, given you were the one that pulled him in here in the first place. “Should we head out?” You ask, between soft kisses.

“I don’t wanna,” he mumbles. “Do you?”

You giggle against his lips, moving a little closer. “No… I just don’t wanna pressure-“

“Pressure me?” He asks in disbelief, stopping you before you can finish the thought as his big hands cup your cheeks, pulling you into an even deeper kiss. “You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”

“I don’t know,” you giggle lightly.

“You can use me however you’d like, princess,” he whispers. “Told you… It’s my lucky night. I’m feelin’ lucky. I’m gettin’ lucky. This is the best night I’ve had in a very long time,” he mumbles the last three words between tender kisses. ”Let me taste you, sweetheart.”

”Yeah?” You ask softly.

“Fuck, yeah…” He hums as he fingers the button of your jeans. “Let me get you good and wet first, hmm?” He asks as he rolls you against the wall.

Rafe tugs at your pants just like you did, making you gasp, pulling them down just enough to get at your panties. He slips his big fingers into the waist pant, spreading your legs slightly, making you whimper as he runs two big digits through your slick folds.

“Shit, pretty. Fuckin’ soaked f’me already,” he hums against your lips. “Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He pushes his fingers inside you, making you reach for a breath; Rafe curls them, drawing out a moan from your pillowy lips.

“I want that so bad,” you pant as you stare into his sin-darkened eyes as he starts to work even quicker, broad palm smacking against your puffy clit repeatedly, making it that much harder to hold back your sounds of pleasure.

“You want my dick, princess?”

“Mhmm…” You hum needily.

“Think you can wait?” Rafe teases as he twists his hand, making a moan rip from your throat that has you both looking at each other in shock, fighting back a laugh that quickly turns into another whine as his rough thumb circles on top of your clit.

You bite down on your bottom lip, tossing your head back, and just when you think it can get any better, he moves to his knees, flicking his tongue across your clit, making your muscles jump as his fingers continue to dart in and out. Rafe chuckles against your clit, the warmth of his voice making you whimper, toes curling, fingers twisting in his hair.

“Just like that, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you plead as you feel yourself about to lose control completely.

“Cum for me, princess,” he hums against your sex, the vibrations sending you over the edge, leaving your body fluttering around his big fingers, muscles trembling uncontrollably. He doesn’t stop until your body relaxes fully, you fighting for a breath as you slump against the bathroom wall.

“Holy shit,” he practically moans as he rises to his feet again, his handsome face flushed, chin glistening with your arousal. You pull Rafe to your lips, tasting the two of you together, your body feeling like it could float away.

Rafe pushes you into the wall, his cock hard just like it was before—his want for you practically oozing off his skin. “So, should we get out of here?” He teases you with your own words, chuckling against your lips as you giggle against his; Rafe has no intention of leaving unless that’s what you want. You have no intention of leaving either as you tug at his jeans and boxers again. “Need you so fucking bad,” Rafe mutters as he turns you around, grabbing your wrists, guiding your hands on the wall in front of you as you push your ass onto his hard cock.

Rafe’s hands drift underneath your hockey jersey, lifting it slightly as you bend over. “Gonna get you one of my older jerseys when we get home, aight?” He hums, smacking your ass with his big hand.

“You’re takin’ me home?” You ask sweetly.

“Yeah, baby… ‘Course I am,” he drawls as he leans in, pressing his chest against your back, pushing a gentle kiss on your lips as he traces his fat tip through your slit, bumping your clit, making you gasp.

“We doin’ condoms or what, princess?” Rafe questions as he bullies your hole, bottom lip tucking between his teeth, teasing himself with your warm, wet pussy praying you’ll say ‘no.’

“Boyfriend privileges,” you giggle as you look over your shoulder and smile, giving him a little wink.

“Fuck, I love the sound of that, baby-”

You draw in a sharp breath against as Rafe thrusts into you slowly, his fat tip filling you before he presses in inch by inch, finally bottoming you out. His hands rub along your lower back, letting you adjust to his size; your cunt pulling him in just like he imagined, leaving him tossing his head back to the ceiling.

Rafe grabs your hips, grunting about how tight you are as he pulls out to the tip, shoving himself back inside, making you reach behind your back, wrapping your trembling hand around his wrist to steady yourself and keep from crying out.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the bathroom, but you couldn't care less. And neither does Rafe, slapping your ass again, making your pussy tighten around his fat cock as he ruts into you quicker and harder.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, your bottom lip quivering in overstimulation.

“Mpfhh…” He grunts, pounding into your soaked center again and again. “So good, princess… Taking me so fuckin’ good. You gonna cum? Fuckin’ cum for me,” he begs as he pulls you back fast, pistoning his hips, fucking you on his dick as your fingers spiral on your clit.

“Oh—Oh, fuck. Rafe,” you squeal as you cum around his cock. Rafe’s jaw tightens, using his last bit of power to fuck you through your orgasm, and the second he pulls out, you gasp, feeling his climax land hot on your lower back. His cum pools in the dip of your spine, rolling down your warm skin.

Rafe clutches your hips in his hands, taking a deep breath as his throbbing dick resting on your ass. The two of you panting and groaning, coming down from your highs together.

He cleans you off, helping you back into your clothes between soft kisses and sweet nothings. Rafe looks at your sweater, scrubbing off a little bit of cum caught on the fabric, making a joke about how he’s technically on the back of your jersey now, making the two of you laugh way too hard.

Rafe’s hand is warm in yours; his firm yet gentle grip guides you through the packed bar. Laughter and music swell around you, but all you can focus on is Rafe’s touch and his thumb gently brushing against your hand.

The two of you step up to the bar at the same spot where you started your night, standing side-by-side with your knight in shining armor. You glance up at him and smile as he orders you two drinks before closing your tab.

Rafe kiss-swollen lips curl into a small smile as he feels the heat of your gaze out of the corner of his eye. He grabs the check off her hands, scribbling a tip and a total. Rafe sets it down and moves a little closer, stepping chest to chest with you; your back backed up against the bar. His hair is messy from your bathroom romp; slightly mussed, a soft purple mark forming on his neck from your lips, a particularly rough kiss.

Rafe grabs your hand, flipping it over, pen hovering over your palm. You watch as he works: his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his chicken scratch handwriting tattooing your skin, but the words stop your heart.

Tomorrow night 7 pm Luna Rosa I like you a lot -RC

You blink, rereading it like your brain is playing tricks on you. But then he looks at you—those intense, drunken eyes locked onto yours—and kisses the back of your hand.

“I mean it, princess,” he mumbles softly. “In case you had any doubts.”

You rise on your tippy toes, kissing his cheek again like you did earlier in the night before tucking yourself in his neck. “I really like you too, Rafe,” you whisper.

When you pull away this time, he’s not just stunned silent; he’s ready. Rafe cups your cheeks in his hands again, kissing you deeply, pulling you into his arms, and there is absolutely no doubts. ♥️

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush

[amirasainz]

Hiiii, I love your blog so much. I was wondering if you could do Lando, who's girlfriend is a model. It is during the fashion weeks and she is very exhausted but boyfriend Lando takes care of her and is cheering her on the whole time. Thank you bby 💘

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Lights, Camera and Flashes

The buzzing chaos of Fashion Month had arrived. Yn was in her element, juggling fittings, rehearsals, and back-to-back shows across New York, London, Milan, and Paris. As the world’s most sought-after model, her name was on every designer’s list. Each city meant new challenges, new outfits, and new pressures.

“Babe, are you sure you’re okay?” Lando asked as they touched down in New York for the first leg of the month.

Yn, seated beside him on the private jet, turned to give him a smile. “I’m fine, Lando. Just excited. It’s going to be a long month, but I’ve done this before.”

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Yeah, but this year, you’re in every major show. You’re human, Yn, not a robot.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said firmly, squeezing his hand. “Especially with you here.”

Lando chuckled. “Alright, but remember, the moment you feel off, you tell me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she promised.

---

New York

The energy in New York was electric. Yn stepped into the first fitting at Alexander Wang’s studio, where she was immediately swarmed by assistants and stylists. Lando stayed close but out of the way, watching her work with awe.

“You’re staring again,” Yn teased during a break, catching him leaning against the wall with a goofy grin.

“Can’t help it,” he replied. “You’re incredible.”

Show day arrived, and Lando was front and center in the audience, holding a bouquet of red roses. As the music boomed and Yn stepped onto the runway, he couldn’t contain himself.

“Let’s go, Yn!” he shouted, drawing amused glances from nearby attendees.

Yn strutted down the runway, her confidence radiant. She caught Lando’s eyes briefly, a small smile tugging at her lips. When the show ended, Lando was waiting backstage with his bouquet, pulling her into a tight hug.

“You killed it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thanks, babe.”

But as they exited the venue, they were met by a sea of paparazzi. Lando immediately stepped into protective mode, wrapping his arm around Yn’s waist and glaring at anyone who got too close.

“Back up,” he barked, shielding her with his body.

“Lando, it’s okay,” Yn murmured, though she appreciated his protectiveness.

He guided her safely to their car, refusing to let go until they were away from the chaos.

---

London

The second week brought them to London, where Yn had fittings with Burberry and Victoria Beckham. Though she was still riding the high from New York, Lando noticed the subtle changes—her slightly slower pace, the way she leaned on him more often.

“Feeling alright?” he asked one evening as they returned to the hotel.

“Yeah,” she replied, but her voice lacked its usual energy.

Lando wasn’t convinced. After her first show in London, she came backstage to find him waiting with a massive bouquet of lilies.

“You didn’t have to do this again,” she said, though her smile betrayed how much she loved it.

“Of course, I did. You deserve it.”

The paparazzi were even more aggressive in London, shouting questions and shoving cameras in their faces. Lando tightened his grip on Yn’s hand, his jaw set.

“Lando, it’s fine,” she whispered, but he shook his head.

“It’s not fine. They don’t get to treat you like this.”

Once they were safely inside their car, Lando turned to her. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he said.

“I can handle it,” she replied softly.

“You shouldn’t have to,” he countered.

---

Milan

By the time they arrived in Milan, Yn’s energy was noticeably lower. Her flawless walk on the runway was still the talk of the industry, but off-stage, she was quieter, more fatigued.

“You’re not eating enough,” Lando pointed out one morning as she picked at her breakfast.

“I’m just not hungry,” she said.

“You’re running on fumes, Yn,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine, Lando,” she insisted, though the dark circles under her eyes told a different story.

Lando doubled down on his support, making sure she had everything she needed. After each show, he was there with flowers, helping her navigate the crowds and shielding her from the paparazzi.

When she came back to the hotel after her third show in Milan, she collapsed onto the bed. Lando didn’t say a word; he simply ordered room service, drew a bath, and set up her favorite playlist.

“Come on, princess,” he said, lifting her gently. “Time to relax.”

---

Paris

By the time they reached Paris, Yn was running on pure determination. Paris Fashion Week was the grand finale, and every major designer wanted her.

Lando could see how hard she was pushing herself, and it worried him.

“Yn, you need to slow down,” he said one evening as they walked back to their suite.

“I can’t,” she replied, her voice cracking. “This is the biggest week of the year.”

“And you’re the biggest model of the year. You’ve already proven yourself,” he argued. “Your health is more important.”

She didn’t respond, but he noticed the tears welling in her eyes.

On the night of her final show, Lando was louder than ever, cheering her on as she walked the runway. When it was over, he met her backstage with the largest bouquet yet.

“You did it,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

“I’m so tired,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you,” he said, kissing her forehead.

---

When they finally returned to their hotel that night, Lando went all out to pamper her. He ordered her favorite food, prepared a warm bubble bath, and queued up her favorite movie.

“Lando,” Yn said as she sank into the bath, “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, sitting beside the tub. “You’re my princess, Yn. You deserve the world.”

As the movie played later, Yn curled up in Lando’s arms, her head resting on his chest.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to do anything alone,” he replied, brushing a kiss against her temple. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Yn drifted off to sleep, the exhaustion of the month finally catching up to her. But with Lando by her side, she felt safe, loved, and completely at peace.

And for Lando, there was no greater honor than being her rock.