#making him slowly spin in front of you as you “check” to make sure he's safely covered

[thinkinonsense]

Sit Still｡𖦹°‧

—gif credit: not mine!! i can't remember where i found it but if i can find it again or the owner comments, ill add their username <3

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: cockwarming (sorta?), innocence kink, p in v, logan attempts to teach reader how to ride.

a/n: apologies for this being so short but chapter two of bewitched should be out friday or saturday! also i'll be responding to some requests soon too in case i spam lmao

"a-are you sure 'bout this, lo?"

your timid voice echos around the bedroom, capturing logan's attention again. he's been dreaming for months of this sight in front of him; you sitting pretty in his lap, only wearing a pink lacy bra and a pair of matching panties.

"you want me to make you feel good, right sweetheart?"

a small sigh escapes you as you attempt to grind onto him again. logan places his large hands on your waist to stop you from wiggling around. he knows you can't help it, you're still new to this after all.

it started a month ago when you and logan were left alone together in the mansion. everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away. you were recovering from a cold and logan simply didn't want to chaperone. instead, he offered to stay back with you.

late one evening, he came in to check on you and ask if there was anything you needed. that's when you asked him the question that nearly killed him, 'will you take my virginity?' you didn't see a problem with it. the two of you weren't strangers, you trusted logan, and he obviously has experience since he's much older than you.

ever since that night, you two have been going at it like rabbits. tonight, logan promised to help you get used to being on top. more importantly, training you to take him from this angle.

"c'mon, baby..." he coos with one hand on your hip and the other holding a cigar to his lips. "do it just like i told ya'."

swiftly, logan removes the rest of the material between the two of you before resting back against the mattress. anxiously, you line him up to your entrance and slowly sink down until you're sat fully on his lap again.

"nice 'n slow for me, sweetheart. that's it, stay still..." logan hums, lost in your tight, wet heat. he can hear every little noise coming from your lips. "atta girl."

it's a struggle to take all of him at once. you can feel him deep in your gut, nudging that sweet spot inside of you. logan can tell that your nerves are still tangled in knots, practically strangling his cock.

"lo, i c-can't do it." you huff, upset at yourself. "too full to move."

"poor fuckin' baby." logan teases with faux sympathy. "how 'bout we try something else for now?"

too caught up with the soft grind of his hips, you nod your head mindlessly to his proposal. logan brings his thumb to his lips, replacing the cigar which is now back on the nightstand. he sits up, making you whimper as he does so. you lean forward to capture his lips with your own, whispering how badly you needed him to just fuck you himself. instead, logan's got something else in mind.

"ah!" you gasp as he starts to rub your button with the wet pad of thumb. "f-fuck, right there..."

the soft rocking of your hips makes your toes curl and fingers pull at his little kitten tuffs. logan's mouth moves south to your chest. one nipple in his mouth then the other until both are swollen and kiss bitten. vibrations pour from his mouth as he groans at the tight squeezing of your cunt around his girth.

"ah-ah." he tsks, hand coming up to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together gently. "what did i say 'bout staying still?"

"s-sorry, lo.." you whimper voice muffled by your squished pouty lips.

despite having incredible stamina, logan was ready to release just from looking at your pretty face. he never been this close to cumming so soon but feeling you tense around him and wiggle in his lap made his head spin. all of this movement from only his thumb drawing circles.

"christ..." he grunts in your ear, moving faster now and with more pressure. "you're tryin' a kill me, sweetheart."

all logan gets in response is incoherent babbles of 'don't stop' and 'please, please, please'. he knows you are close when you claw at his back and start to bounce on him little by little, just enough to make you see stars. it all feels too much yet not enough at the same time. logan's circles start to get sloppy as he approaches his high too.

"l-logan!" you squeal, heavy eyes trying to focus on his face. "wanna feel you..."

in a rush, logan picks up the pace, torturing your button with his thumb. a loud moan falls from your lips, trying to wiggle out of logan's grip as your orgasm washes over you with intense euphoria. logan growls in your neck from your tight fucking grip on his cock, pumping his load inside of your walls. some of it spilling out of you and drenching the sheets.

the two of you catch your breath in silence for a moment. your nails scratch his scalp softly while logan pulls you down to kiss him. after a second, you move back, smiling down at him in a way that makes him harden again.

"thought you were gonna show me how to ride?" you tease.

logan shoots you a cocky eyebrow raise before leaning back again, one hand on your hip and the other returning to his cigar on the night stand.

"alright, baby..." he chuckles, re-lighting the cigar and paying little attention to the roll of your hips. "let me see what you got."

[wcnderlnds]

home sweet home | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: after his big interview, you go over to make sure he's okay and there's a shift in the friendship. ・❥・word count: 941 ・❥・warnings: none! oh, except for kissing, i guess. ・❥・ authors note: ok im nervous about this one. i havent wrote fics for musicians, etc. in years so we'll see how it goes but im so down bad for this man

Each glance at the clock made your heart beat just a little faster, the hours ticking by slowly. If you were nervous then you couldn’t even imagine how he felt. His first interview in years — it had to be the most daunting experience to put himself back into the spotlight like that. Your foot tapped against the floor of your apartment as you waited for the clock to hit 3PM. That was the time you’d told him you’d go over to his place to check on him. His interview would’ve been over by then and it gave him some time to process things on his own. Most of the time Seung-hyun liked to isolate himself but if there was one person in the world that he’d let see him at his most vulnerable, it was you. Not like he had a choice anyway. Whether he wanted it or not, you were always checking on him. He was your nearest and dearest friend so you couldn’t let him face his demons on his own.

Seung-hyun appreciated it more than he would ever be able to explain to you. As of now, you were the only person he hadn’t shut out — his guiding light in the darkness of his life for the past few years. You were a big reason why he thought more positively these days, why he even had the courage to pick himself up and get back out into the world.

Finally, 3PM came and without hesitation, you made your way over to his place. As you raised your fist to knock, the door pulled open. There he stood, a smile on his face as his dark, floppy hair got in the way of his glasses. He pushed his hair back as you stepped inside. It really was a crime how this man could look so good at any given time. He really had been blessed with amazing genes. His hair with no product in, the glasses framing his face and the comfortable hoodie he was wearing made your heart almost skip a beat.

“How’d it go?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Okay,” he replied, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against his chest. “Scary but I did it and that’s the main thing. It’s long overdue.”

“I’m so proud of you,” you smiled. As you pulled back, you let your arms rest on his forearms, gazing up into his gorgeous dark eyes. “Baby steps, yeah? Go at your own pace. But, for now, let’s eat and you can tell me all about it.”

The dinner was spent with you both laughing, him telling stories of how the interview went, you telling him about your day — he was always so willing to listen to every word you said. The way he looked at you paired with the way he was always so attentive was any person’s dream. Seung-hyun was a catch; anyone with eyes could see that. Yours had been closed for so long but now? You were starting to realise that maybe, just maybe, what you both needed had been right in front of you this whole time.

As the two of you stood in the kitchen clearing up, you ran a plate under the sink, rinsing off the debris so you could put it in the dishwasher. Spinning around, you came face to chest with Seung-hyun who had been standing behind you placing something in the cabinet above your head. You gulped at the proximity, his fingers sliding over yours as he took the plate from your hand. It was only brief contact but it was enough to make your heart speed up.

“Here, let me do that,” he said quietly, his deep voice like music to your ears. It took him all of two seconds to reach over, bend down and place it in the dishwasher before he was back facing you. 

“Thank you,” your voice was soft, eyes locking with his as you glanced up.

Seung-hyun gently tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, his fingers skimming your cheek as he pulled back. Your breath caught in your throat. It was like time had frozen still for a moment — nothing but you and your best friend locked in this monumental piece of time where you realised this was more than friendship. Maybe it always had been. Your heart had just finally decided to catch up and realise it. From the moment you had met this amazing, incredible man, he’d had a piece of your heart. All you ever wanted to do was protect him, care for him like he deserved. The world had been cruel to him but you’d make sure that nothing would be again.

It was as if he was reading your mind, his hand cupping your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing the soft skin of your cheek. Who was going to be the first to make a move? Was it worth risking the friendship? It seemed like it to Seung-hyun as he leaned forward and ever so gently pressed his lips to yours, eyes fluttering shut. Your hands rested on his chest, lips moving together in perfect sync. Like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. You could feel him smiling against your lips, pulling back ever so slightly. Your lips parted, chest rising and falling with each breath. 

“Can I do that again?” He asked almost breathlessly. 

You didn’t even say a word instead placing your hand at the back of his neck and pulling him back down to your lips. Yeah, there was definitely no going back now.

[marblehazel]

Sitter

dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Part One | Part Two: Deeper

You’re spending spring break alone at home while your father is five thousand miles away when all of sudden, you fall sick. Enter Joel Miller: your father’s buddy, sent by him to check on you.

Tags: Explicit MDNI, no outbreak, age gap, no mother in the picture but your father has a named girlfriend (sorry), no bra household, dry humping, footjob while watching SpongeBob, oral (m and f receiving)

Word count: 6.8k

“Dad,” your voice is hoarse like it has just come out from a dying goose, and you spend the next five seconds trying to clear your throat.

“So like, I’m… sick, kinda, but it’s not really bad, so—” A train of coughs that feels like they are going to tear your lungs apart. “—sorry about that. It’s nothing. Don’t worry too much, don’t even think about it. I just wanted to let you know.” Another coughing fit. “Okay. Have fun, I love you.”

You click your phone screen and let the voicemail find its way to your father’s ancient block of telecommunication. It’s 11 p.m. for you, 5 a.m. in Tuscany, you calculate with your fingers. You might be wrong. Either way, your father is probably asleep. He had been away for a couple of days with his girlfriend Amy for her nephew's wedding. And they plan to spend another week there, because it’s their anniversary, and Amy had always wanted to go to Italy.

“Will you be okay?” your father asked, apologetic. He leaned onto your bedroom door’s frame while you were unpacking your backpack.

“Yeah, Dad, what am I, eight? Go.” you laughed lightheartedly.

“It’s just you came down here from school and then I go, you know. I wish you’d said yes and come with us.”

“And third-wheeling you and Amy for ten days?” you giggled. “Dad, it’s okay. Come on. We’ll still have the weekend together when you come back.”

You heard Amy call for your father from downstairs, followed by a question about his dress shirt. You grinned, gesturing for him to go.

“Me and Amy will make sure the fridge is full, okay?” he says, voice fading as he steps down the stairs. You shook your head. You’ve survived on dry ramens and day-old coffees in college. You would be okay. Right?

Loud buzzer sound. The game show on the TV you put on to distract yourself from the fever is not doing a good job. You try to focus, but the noises coming out of it sound muffled, and the colors are just so bright and saturated that they make your head spin. You click on mute before slamming the remote on the coffee table, and it lands safely on some crumpled Kleenex. A thermometer is sitting next to the box, the tiny display screen blank. It’s broken, and you make a mental note to scold your father for always keeping faulty things around the house as if he’s going to fix them. A few bottles of pills you fished out of your father’s medicine cabinet to at least ease your aching muscles are toppled next to a half-empty Nyquil Nighttime Relief bottle with its cap screwed but crooked.

You second-guess your decision to let your father know that you’re unwell. But again, he hates surprises, so letting him know that he might find your rotting corpse in front of his TV when he gets back is, perhaps, doing him a favor.

It’s dark in the living room, and the leather couch is sticking to your sweaty leg. You should probably put sweatpants and a hoodie on instead of biker shorts and a stretched out shirt that looks more like a rag than a proper clothing item. But climbing the stairs now? No, thank you.

You shift your body, trying to find the best position to fall asleep in since the wrong angle seems to block your nasal passage. A groan leaves your throat when you can’t pull the fleece blanket to cover your body. You find out you are sitting on both ends of it. To hell with it.

You blink slowly. The Nyquil seems to start working. Can’t sneeze or cough if you’re knocked out, you think. You close your eyes, the colors from the TV somehow find their way in and flash washed-out red, white, yellow behind your eyelids. You’re too tired to reach for the remote.

Maybe you’ll feel better when you wake up.

You jolt when something cold makes contact with your forehead. Within microseconds, you yeet the thing away hysterically, hitting yourself in the process. The thing flies and lands on the wooden floor with a wet, thwap sound.

“Easy, easy,”

If it was just a little bit not so sudden and confusing and designed to constrict your blood vessels until your organs fail, you would have yelped. You nearly snap your neck trying to find the source of the voice, and your tense shoulders fall as quickly as they were raised when you notice the familiar face belonging to a broad frame standing next to the couch.

It’s Joel Miller.

Of course it’s him. Your father likely has him on speed dial.

He and your father go way back. Went to the same school, crushed on the same girls, hit the same bong, and so on. They were even in a band together. Your father has pictures of them from years ago, with greasy hair, earrings, bass and drumsticks in their hands. Cringe.

Well, just your father. Not Joel though.

You haven’t seen him in like, what, a year? And yet he looks good as ever. Well, Joel has always looked good his whole life. When you saw the pictures of him from high school you thought, Oh Fuck, I Would Totally Have A Crush On This Guy. And then you had to sit in silence and ponder, because, well, you are having a crush on this guy. Sort of. Maybe.

He bends over to pick up the thing you just yeeted on the floor, which is apparently a washcloth, and dunk it in a basin on the side table, which is now clean from all the stuff that was previously there.

“Joel,” you chirp. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he smiles as he squeezes the washcloth. Beads of water come trickling down his knuckles back to the basin, gleaming in front of the still-turned-on TV.  “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. What time is this?” you straighten up, rummaging around the blanket to find your phone to no avail.

“One-thirty. Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Your old man asked me to check on you." He folds the cloth in two and dab it before stepping closer and pressing it against your forehead, nice and cold. His other hand supports your head from the back, basically cradling your skull.

“Your front door was unlocked when I came in.” says Joel, as if you are capable of digesting any kind of information at the moment. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “And sorry my Dad made you come here. You didn’t have to, it’s not so bad.”

“Come on, it’s only a ten minute drive. ‘S okay. I checked your forehead. Not too bad, but still a fever, y’know. You took the Nyquil?”

The thought of Joel Miller touching your forehead with his palm in the dark while you were asleep somehow makes the neurons in your brain stop interlinking for a second. Were you sleeping with your mouth open the whole time? You knew you did fall asleep that way since you couldn’t breathe through your nose. Man.

“I did.” you nod, shaking the thought away. You feel your lungs tighten, though. Another coughing fit incoming.

“Good,” Joel presses his hand to your forehead again as if trying to make sure the wet washcloth is properly glued onto your face. The soft pressure disrupts your composure and you cough like a machine gun submerged in a container full of Elmer’s glue, hacking up thick mucus up your throat. Joel leaves your side with hurried steps and, within seconds, somehow has a paper cup under your chin for you to spit into.

You try to grab the cup, flustered, but he doesn’t let go and instead helps you sit up straight, patting your back.

“Spit.” he says as you wheeze with phlegm in your mouth like an imbecile. You awkwardly grab his wrist for support and spit the mucus out into the cup. Soon you’ll realize how foolish it is to grab someone’s wrist using the same hand you used to cover your mouth while coughing. The string of saliva takes a ridiculously long time to break free from your lips, but Joel is unfazed. He takes a glance at the mucus, likely checking the color and consistency.

“Thanks,” you blink rapidly, still processing.

“You wanna go to urgent care?” Joel asks.

“Nu-uh,” you shake your head. “I’m okay, I promise. I feel a lot better already.”

“It’s probably just a bug,” he pats your back again before walking to the kitchen to dispose of the cup. “How long has it been going on?”

You wait until he comes back because you don’t think you can speak loud enough for him to be able to hear you from the kitchen without tearing your throat apart. Joel thinks you didn’t hear him the first time and is about to repeat his question when you say, “Uh, it got progressively worse last night.” you realize how serious that sounds and quickly add, “But not like, worse worse. I mean, compared to,”

“And before that?”

“Just a scratchy throat.”

He looks like he’s mentally taking notes with arms folded in front of his stomach. It’s the first time that night you take a full look at him under the glow of the muted TV. You can’t really make the colors out, but he’s wearing a dark t-shirt under an unbuttoned flannel shirt and jeans. He’s keeping his beard kind of thin compared to the last time you saw him, but still the same, well-tended mustache that makes a strong presence over his lips. You can’t help but notice the graying strands of hair that stick out among his dark, messy hair, complimenting him so well. You are pretty sure the ratio between light to dark hair has been shooting up this year. You like it.

And his eyes. They’re rich, and dark, and the fact that he furrows half of the time that it creates permanent dents between his eyebrows just makes him ridiculously hotter.

The mucus factory must be working overtime tonight because you can feel the slight slippery feeling of lubrication where you’re sitting. Fucking stupid, you think, read the room.

All of sudden, a lightning flashes, lighting up your surroundings before the grumbling roar of thunder follows through. For a second, you can make out the shapes and silhouettes of everything in the room like a photograph. Joel fits rightly in the left third of this main piece in your mind exhibition. You wish you could take screenshots with your eyes and keep it to admire later.

Joel glances out the window. Heat lightning reveals the blobs of clouds outside, and the strong wind is starting to blow debris to rattle the windows. He shifts his focus on you again. “Did you eat?”

“I’m okay,” you shrug. Storm is coming, Joel better go home before it gets worse.

He chuckles. “Yes or no?”

That chuckle tickles something deep inside of you. You smile shyly. “Yes, Joel. I’m okay.”

Joel stares at you, and you are pretty sure he senses that you did not, in fact, eat dinner. “I’m starvin’, actually,” he gets up and takes his flannel shirt off, and then tosses it on the couch before making his way towards the kitchen. You scream internally at the sight of his biceps like a deranged fangirl.

“Mind if I take a look in the fridge?” he yells while opening the fridge door. Just being polite. He knows your father will let him dismantle the house and take the pieces home if he wants to.

You free the tangled blanket from around your legs, only noticing now how under your old, sweat-dampened, Marlin Club shirt, your nipples are as erect as fireman’s poles. Was it the temperature, Joel, or both, you can’t conclude.

Joel whistles when he finds that the fridge is full. He grabs a can of beer and pops it open, studying the contents of the fridge and thinking of what he can cook for you as he gulps the beer down.

You follow him to the kitchen, jump to sit on the kitchen island as Joel grabs some produce off the fridge and sets them next to you. He looks at you, blinks a couple of times, then occupies himself with the food cabinet over the counter. You try to be helpful by unwrapping the basil and cherry tomatoes.

“So, how’s school?” Joel breaks the silence as he washes his hands. “And don’t just say okay, please.”

“You got me there,” you laugh. ��Nothing really amusing, really.”

Then a few more superficial, classic-catching-up questions while you both prepare the pesto. Joel asks about the trip to Italy, how your father mentioned proposing to Amy soon, what do you think about that. You ask about his brother Tommy, work, and the average cost to renovate a room, to which Joel answers in detail really nicely. Then come the usual do-you-remember-when stories, melting down the strange and awkward atmosphere between the two of you. Laughters fill up the room. It’s fun and familiar.

“Did you remember when you used to call me Uncle Joel?” Joel sneers as he tosses a pan to the sink. “You used to be so nice and polite.”

“I was like six!” You snorted. “And you can’t even pay me to call you that again, Joel.”

Then, the once-your-pops-and-I anecdotes. You’ve heard some of them from your own father’s mouth, but you still listen to Joel’s versions eagerly anyway.

At one point, you start to cough again so Joel instructs you to just sit down on the counter. You don’t complain—it means you can just sit back and watch him from the back and imagine how it would feel to run your fingers through his hair.

When Joel stirs the pasta with the pesto sauce, the weather has gone full-blown insane out there.

“You should stay the night,” you try to sound as nonchalant as possible. His presence is sending arrays of erroneous signals to your reproductive organs, which will most likely result badly if he stays, but how can you let him drive home in this kind of weather?

Joel hands you a fork and pushes a plate of fusilli for you to eat. “Eh, we’ll see,” he shrugs. “I don’t mind drivin’ through a storm, but I can’t just leave you alone if you don’t feel well.”

“Dad told me you got a folded chair smashed through your windshield last summer.” You take a bite, the thick sauce coats your tastebuds and you groan in satisfaction, even though you can’t really taste it to the fullest because of your stuffy nose.

“Oh, yeah, that.” Joel chuckles. “I was lucky it aimed for the shotgun.”

He eats standing up across you, one elbow on the counter. When you both finish the meal, he takes your plate and starts washing the dishes. You tell him to do it later, and then offer your help, and he says no to both. You insist on drying the dishes anyway, standing side by side with him.

After the very late dinner, the two of you retreat to the living room. Joel asks you to take some medication again and you decline, stating that you feel better already.

“Headstrong, ain’t ya?” Joel sighs. “Okay, sleep then. Wanna sleep in your bed?”

“Not really sleepy,” you shake your head. “Feel free to take Dad’s bed, by the way. You have work in the morning, right?”

“Nah, I’m alright by the couch.” Joel scoots to make room for his legs and lies on his back, groaning like every other old person when they finally get to be horizontal. His feet are dangling on one side, his head on the opposite armrest. You take the old recliner that doesn’t even recline anymore near Joel’s feet, facing both the TV and Joel at an angle.

The TV is still on, showing the same game show but already on a later season. You unmute it and watch it together with Joel for five minutes before you realize that none of you has laughed yet, and you ask Joel if he wants to watch a movie instead. He says why not.

You open a streaming service and browse for movies on the home page. Joel probably likes action and other classic old man genre types. You pretend to read some of the summaries and see if Joel perks up at one of them, but he doesn’t seem to really care about the TV.

“I don’t know what to watch,” you admit. “Do you wanna pick the movie?”

Truth is, Joel can’t give a single shit about no goddamn movie. He’s been distracted by so many thoughts in his mind. But he gestures for you to scroll back up anyway.  “Let’s see the trending ones.”

You stop at a tally of newly released and currently popular films at the top of the page, giving Joel a chance to read about them before moving to the next one.

“This one looks excitin’.” Joel points at the screen. The poster shows a man in classic Viking attire, staring intently at the viewer with striking blue eyes. Some kind of pelt is draped over his shoulders. His hands are on top of each other, resting on a sword handle, the blade facing the earth. Dried mud and blood are splattered over his face and armor. The Conquest, it says. You don’t recognize the actors listed. The summary says something about revenge, passion, blood, power, blah blah. You click play.

The movie opens with a battle scene. The movie looks like it runs out of lighting budget, and you need to squint to be able to tell what they are actually doing. Nothing can be heard except grunts and blades clashing. You look over at Joel to see his expression, but he’s looking at you. He quickly averts his gaze back to the screen.

Twenty minutes pass, and none of you are really paying attention to the plot. Not until the main guy enters a wooden tub filled with steaming hot water with his asscheeks out, and then a woman enters the scene with nothing but a thin white veil covering her body. She drops the cloth and joins him. The warm light from the torches is highlighting her breasts.

“Woah,” you look at Joel again, but he says nothing, but you can see his Adam’s apple moving awkwardly.

They kiss, and he grabs her bosom with his humongous palms and knead them. Then he buries his face between them, with the woman kissing the top of his head. After what feels like a millenia, he lifts her lower half from the water, and then puts her down to sit on the edge of the tub before performing cunnilingus. She moans.

You start to feel a pool of heat brewing inside of you. This feels invasive of their privacy, somehow, with no soundtrack added, just fire crackling and water splashing and erotic moaning.

Joel clears his throat. “Uh, maybe we shouldn’t watch this,”

“You’re the one who picked the movie.” you say, eyes fixated on the screen.

“Well, it didn’t say nothin’ about eatin’ a lady out in the summary.”

He reaches for the remote and turns the TV off, leaving only the sound of rain hitting your window in your eardrums.

“Hey,” you whine. “That’s not nice. I didn’t say yes.”

“It’s late. Go to sleep.” Joel folds his arms over his chest, partly staying warm, partly because he’s so flustered he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He then closes his eyes, knowing damn well he’s far from feeling tired let alone fall asleep.

“We’re both adults anyways,” you mutter, but Joel doesn’t move. He’s probably actually tired.

Your gaze is affixed on him. He surely doesn’t look like he’s sleeping in peace right now but he’s still handsome nonetheless. His old shirt is a tad bit too tight around his biceps. You can see the protruding veins beautifully decorating his arms and hands. His legs are slightly crossing with one ankle on top of another, and his breath is steady. He’s gorgeous.

In your wildest dreams, you would jump to straddle Joel, and he would grab your hips and fuck you to death. Is it bad that your immune system is fighting one of the worst battles in your life, and yet your number one priority is somehow to get laid, by this man specifically? It’s both excruciating and foolish. 

The movie you just saw doesn’t help, either. In fact, it makes everything worse. Your mind keeps wandering back to it, the way the man eats the woman out, and then back to Joel, imagining the top of his head would look like when he eats you out. Fuck. You know that if you don’t get to touch this man in the next 30 minutes, you are either going to combust or burn everything in the vicinity.

You close your eyes, try to do the mindfulness practice you once saw in a magazine. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. You repeat “Release me from this earthly desire” in your head like a rookie buddhist wizard trying to cast a spell with a broken wand. You ball your fists in your lap so hard the joints start to hurt.

It’s not working.

Your mind keeps wandering back to different scenarios, different positions, different spots around the house. Low grunts, fingertips pressing your sides, tongue between your lips…

You can’t do it anymore. You need release. You need to at least be able to feel something, a little reward for your throbbing clit. Trying your best to be as casual as possible, you pull your folded legs closer to your body, your left heel even closer to your biker-short-covered cunt, and shift your body weight on it.

The pleasure that has been building up there bursts like a balloon. You sigh.

There are two things that Joel is not: young, and oblivious.

Oh, he is totally aware of what’s happening. You are not doing a good job trying to be subtle. From the non-stop staring, to the constant fidgeting, to the borderline sexual sighs, to the hard nipples, Joel knows you are going through something that is completely different from just being ill.

And he totally understands. He’s been there, done that. There was a time when his back wasn’t hurting and his face hadn’t been ‘graced’ with crow’s feet and age spots yet, when his hormones were at all-time high and his blood liked nothing more than flowing to his cock recklessly at the slightest inducement. He understands what you are going through.

So when you start grinding yourself onto your left heel followed by soft moans, he is not exactly surprised, just mostly in awe of your debauched audacity.

That is too much, even for him. He clears his throat, hoping you’d catch the hint and stop for good. But you don’t, and your eyes are closed and your eyebrows are knitted together in concentration, and your hips are moving slowly, sensually, chasing something, the sight of it stirs something up in his guts.

It is vulgar, and most importantly indecent in every way, but Joel can feel his own arousal creeping up no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that it is not happening.

He calls your name. Your body responds faster than the critically thinking part of your brain and you stop like you just got cursed by Medusa. 

You can physically feel your heart drop to your ass. Your neck moves stiffly to find his eyes like a broken animatronic. “Yeah?” you croak.

“Do you think I don’t know what you’re doin’?”

You blink. Deny? Act stupid? Admit? Deny, deny. Wait, deny? No, act stupid.

“What… Do you mean?” you say, and you realize that you chose the dialogue option that actually sounds the dumbest.

Joel clicks his tongue. “Might as well hump me if you want it that much.”

Wait, what? Your eyes light up. “Really?”

Joel stares at you in genuine perplexity before lifting one hand up to massage his temples. He takes a deep breath, and in the softest way possible—like telling a puppy she can’t eat electronic parts—sighs, “No.”

“Oh,” you cover your mouth. “I thought you meant—“

“Yeah, yeah. My bad.” he sighs again, sounding significantly more frustrated. He then uses his hands to support himself to a sitting position, composing himself.

Silence. You don’t dare to look at Joel, but your cunt keeps pulsing like a metal detector. You understand that the beeping—desire—will not die down unless you get the valuable artefact from the bronze age—Joel—in your hand. Is this time to be bold and brash?

“Joel,” you call, and you can swear that was not a sober decision, but the stage curtains have been pulled back, and you are pushed to the stage to play your part.

“Hm?”

“What if… I hump you anyway?” you stand up, and your knees are slightly buckling but you act tough and bold regardless.

Joel’s jaws opens and stays slightly agape for a while before he says, “That fever is really messin’ with your brain, huh? Sit down.”

“You’re bricked up, Joel.” you accuse. You don’t actually know for sure since Joel keeps a hand on his lap to cover his crotch, but Joel gulps. Gotcha.

“Unrelated to you.” he hisses in defense.

You scoff.

“Joel, please,” you grouse, voice cracking and desperate. “I want this so bad.” you whisper as you take slow, threatening steps towards Joel until your crotch is not even an inch away from his knee. “I want you so bad.”

“This ain’t right, kid.” Joel puts a hand on the outer side of your arm, and it’s worth pointing out that he’s shaking. “You know that.”

Joel doesn’t tell you that he’s battling demons in his head, and he’s currently losing. A million impulses are catapulting burning boulders onto the gate of his conscience, and all he got is one bleeding, sickly troop with a chipped wooden sword. But he puts his best stern expression despite the fact that his body is betraying him.

He could leave now. Push you away. Clear his head. Come back later. Or not come back at all.

But he knows he doesn’t want to. He can hear his blood rushing and his heart singing battle cry. Not to mention his cock, hard and nearly burns a hole through his jeans.

A long pause. You want to push him further, but you know you don’t need to. The black marlin printed on your shirt does a worthless attempt at distracting Joel from your hard nipples, putting him into a trance.

Joel takes a deep breath. He knows he has lost. “You can help yourself, that’s all,” he nods, more trying to convince himself rather than talking to you. “Just to make you shut up and get rest. That’s it.”

That’s an unenthusiastic barf-colored green light, but it is a green light nonetheless.

You put your hands on Joel’s shoulder before putting your left knee next to his right leg and lower yourself down onto his thigh, while your other knee rests in front of his crotch and presses onto his raging hard-on. Your cunt pulsates in pleasure upon contact, and you let out a gasp. Joel anxiously places his hands on your sides to keep you steady, one thumb ‘accidentally’ brushing your nipple, earning a whine. You lock gaze with him, and start moving.

The friction sends buzzes up your head. You make each grind count, and every single one feels like heaven despite the layers of fabric between your cunt and his beefy thigh. Moans and Joel’s name spill from your lips indeliberately, and he tightens his grip on your body until his fingertips turn white as if you would fly away with a gust of wind if he doesn’t. If you weren’t so absorbed in your own pleasure, you would’ve noticed how shallow and rapid Joel’s breath has become. It turns him on watching you getting off because of him, using him, how your eyelids flutter and your pupils are having a hard time staying in place.

Joel wants to break free from his denim, badly. While he consciously thought, planned, and stated that he’s doing what he’s doing only for your satisfaction and be done with it, it isn’t exactly nice having your kneecap pushing button-flies shaped caves on his crotch repeatedly. Especially not when his cock, which probably has its own brain, has been begging to be taken care of, too.

You, on the other side, are having the best time of your life. As your climax is building up in your south region, you smile at Joel, who smiles back. His hand leaves your ribs briefly to brush the hair that is sticking to your sweaty forehead away from your face.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod weakly. “So good, Joel, so good,”

For a moment there you consider kissing him. His face is merely two inches away from you, and he looks ravishing, all sweaty and blushing. And how you just want to have your tongue inside his mouth, his lips all over yours sloppily. But that feels like overstepping boundaries, like a whole uncharted area you can’t cross, spreading the flu aside. You opt to put your chin on his shoulder instead, trying to focus on your orgasm.

“I want to see your face,” Joel says in your ear, his beard grazing your cheek. Takes you three whole seconds to process that, and when you do, it tingles your core. Before you can answer, he continues, “You’re so beautiful like this.”

You pull back, meeting his gaze with flushing cheeks. You don’t know what to say, and maybe you don’t have to. You continue to be dumbfounded when Joel stops your motion and helps you to stand up.

“Hold on,” he says as he undoes the buttons of his jeans. “I need to take these off.”

He quickly kicks the jeans off his legs, revealing a dark gray boxer briefs under. A wet patch adorns the bulge right in the center. He then manspreads and gestures for you to come back onto him, to which you comply. “C’mere,” he says, “I need to feel you on me.”

You straddle him, positioning your cunt right on his cock, and on everybody and their mother, it feels good. No, it feels right. Joel lets out a groan that cuts into a gasp when you start to grind. “Fuck, yeah,” he grabs your ass, helping you settle on a rhythm.

The contour of Joel’s cock, albeit still covered by the fabric of his boxer briefs, touches every last nerve ending of your cunt in such a different way that his thigh did. You pick your pace up, getting the pleasure to build up again. 

“Joel, I’m gonna come,” you moan, voice quivering. You rake your fingers through his hair, your noses almost touching.

“Keep going, baby,” he says through a smile. “Don’t hold back. You sound so pretty.”

The encouragement is shooting up fireworks in your lower belly, and you start making more sounds. You’re close. So close.

“Makin’ me so hard all night, you,”

You whimper as you come, hips convulsing. Time slows down, and it feels like your cunt is pulled towards a strong gravitational force within your own body as you are sinking down a quicksand, all while pleasure forces your brain to reboot itself.

“That’s it, that’s it. There you go. You’re so good.”

Joel holds the back of your head while you’re laying on his chest, limp. When you pull yourself away from him, he presses a palm to your cheek, smiling. “Attagirl.”

When you finally gather yourself, you pull away from Joel, leaving a huge wet spot on where you just had your cunt on, and scoot to the spot next to him on the couch. You are about to lean onto his shoulder when he stands up and picks his jeans up from the floor. He sees the wet trail of arousal you left on the fabric in the thigh area and snickers.

“Damn, kid, you’re practically a snail,” he points to it. “Poor thing.”

You wince. “What are you doing?”

“Puttin’ my pants on?” he answers in the exact same tone, fixing the position of his boxer briefs.

“But you haven’t even come yet!” you protest. “What the fuck? Take them off!”

“That’s not what I agreed to, remember? I help you come so you’ll shut up and sleep. You’ve come, now shut up, and go to sleep.” he lays it out like basic math while you press the base of your palms onto your eyelids, confounded.

“You’re a sick person,” you shake your head, and then point to his crotch. “You’re literally still hard.”

“That has nothin’ to do with anythin’.”

You stare at the open space, like you’re trying to break the fourth wall in a sitcom. Can you believe this guy?

“Joel, your line is ‘I’m going to fuck you so hard.’ Now let’s start again from the top.”

Joel, who’s struggling trying to fit his bulge back in the jeans without hurting it, stops fussing with his button-fly shortly to push your head back—softly—to the couch. “Sleep,” he drags his palm over your face to close your eyelids.

“Joooooel,”

“Your line is ‘Yes, Joel, good night.’”

“Yes, Uncle Joel, good night, Uncle Joel,” you mock as you swiftly jump from the couch and pull his jeans down to his ankle and force him to step out of it. You hear Joel yelling hey, hey, hey as he tries to simultaneously fight you and not hurt you. You throw the pair of pants across the room with all your might and it lands with a loud thud.

“What are your pants made of, steel?”

“What is wrong with you?” he takes a step to fetch it, but you stand up and push him back to the couch. Joel is for sure going easy on you, because if he wanted to, he could definitely launch you through the walls. Instead, he just accepts his fate and stares at the ceiling, defeated.

“Nobody sleeps with jeans on, Joel,” you reach for the TV remote again. “Now let’s watch something again and then sleep.”

“We’re not watching the viking movie again.”

“We’re not watching the viking movie again,” you repeat. “We’re watching SpongeBob.”

Joel groans.

“What, you don’t like SpongeBob?”

“Not my era,” Joel says. “I watched Gumby. Tom and Jerry. The Muppet Show.”

“No wonder you act like the heckling old guys.”

“I don’t, but, sure,”

“Oh, you’re more like the eagle. So serious all the time.”

Joel rolls his eyes. You play the first episode of the first season of SpongeBob Squarepants, and the familiar intro begins. You take a look at Joel in the corner of your eyes, how he has one of his forearm on the top of his head, bicep almost as thick as his head. The other hand is resting on his thigh, and you can tell that he’s at least still half-hard. You wonder how he looks under those boxer briefs.

On the screen, Squidward and Mr. Krabs are climbing a post with a sea of raging anchovies under them. Joel’s lips slightly turn upward. Ha, eat that, Mr. Old Cartoon Head.

You shift so that you’re on your back, legs resting on Joel’s lap. He gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything. Minutes later, totally absorbed with SpongeBob pestering his neighbor with a reef blower, he has a hand on your ankle, caressing it without much thought.

They would have written about you in a Greek tragedy the way you’re consumed by greed and lust. When your toes stroke Joel’s bulge, totally by accident and not precalculated at all, you pretend like you’re captivated by the TV. It’s hard and you can definitely discern the ridge of possible veins and the head of his cock.

Joel exhales, sounding so done and tired.  “I know you were going to do this,”

But he doesn’t push you away. And that excites you.

You don’t say anything or look away from the screen, but you keep rubbing the outline of his cock, which is now more visible and grows slightly larger, with the space between your big and index toe. Your brain automatically puts the ice clinking in a vase while SpongeBob is getting dry under Sandy’s treedome as background noise to amplify Joel’s restrained grunts.

You like this. You like having Joel wrapped around your finger. Soon after, you withdraw your legs and sit up, causing him to open his eyes over the sudden halt.

You stare at him, bold. “Would you like my mouth?”

Joel nods.

You don’t even wait for a second. Joel helps you take off his boxer briefs, the length of his hard-on springs out like jack-in-the-box. You admire how it looks, how the tip is totally sticky and glistening, before lowering your tongue. Joal lets out a sound akin to a whimper as you let your saliva ooze down the underside of his cock and quickly retrieve it into your mouth using your tongue. He tastes slightly salty, like sweat. And if you could smell better you’d see how hypnotizing his scent is, like calling you to stick his cock down your throat until the world collapses.

“That’s it,” Joel says, out of breath. His cock is now grazing the soft wall of your cheek, and he wonders how experienced you actually are because you definitely don’t act like an amateur. You use one elbow to support yourself, the other one taking turns massaging his balls and the base of his cock.

The only downside of this is that Joel can’t really look at your face. He craves the sight of you, how your lips are wrapped around his cock, and how your cheek is bulging like a squirrel full of him. One of his hands crawls up your back under your shirt, rubbing it before it finds a new target: your breasts. He kneads on one, thumb flicking the bud. You can’t help but moan and take him deeper, sending vibrations from your throat to his cock.

Joel knows he won’t last much longer, and he would very much like to keep this thing going as long as possible. So he asks you to stop, averting your disappointment by lifting up your shirt and sucking on one nipple. He’s surprisingly tender with it, taking his time. You reach a hand to his cock again, trying to at least get him off with your hand, but he pulls your wrists back and locks them on your sides.

“Joel,” you whine. “Fuck me. Please.”

“No can do,” Joel answers as his lips are trailing down to your stomach, where he peppers kisses all over. You scoot backwards and like reading your mind, he tugs the hem of your shorts down to your ankle before yanking it away, revealing your throbbing, desperate cunt. He then dives down, nose pressing against your mound as his tongue explores the new treasure island.

Just like in the movie.

You try to grab on something, anything, but the leather couch does nothing but squeaks, and Joel instinctively laces his fingers with yours. The view of the top of your head is exactly how you imagined it would be. The moans released from your lips are rather loud, especially when Joel creates a suction cup with his lips right on your clit.

“Joel, Joel,” you grasp his hands with all your might. “This is fucking unfair, I’m so— I’m gonna—”

Before you get to finish your sentence, your body already decides that it’s time for another release. Your heels are planted firmly against the couch as your hips lift to the air, and Joel lets go. He kneels before your cunt, pumps himself to oblivion and comes all over you before you get to collect yourself, staining your stomach and breasts. Later you’ll realize that the first spurt went a little bit rogue and landed on your hair.

“Fuck you, man,” you complain, sticking out a middle finger at him. “I was supposed to make you come.”

Joel rests his head on the couch armrest, eyes closed. “You did.”

“I meant technically,” you attempt to nudge him with your leg, but he dodges and stands up to grab the washcloth he used to compress you with earlier. He then wipes your stomach and breasts with it, the cold water making you squirm.

“What now?” you ask when he hands you your clothes.

“Sleep. It’s four in the mornin’.” he says as he puts his stained, sticky, wet boxer briefs on and sits on the recliner. So you can’t drive me mad anymore, he says.

You whine, but you realize that your eyelids are actually very heavy. “Blowjob first time in the morning?” you offer before letting yourself drift off.

“Thought you were s’pposed to be sick.” Joel shakes his head. But he grins.

[seospicybin]

THE BABYSITTER.

PART I

Felix x reader x Hyunjin. (s,f)

Chapters: Part II / Final part.

Synopsis: Working as the family's babysitter, you learn a lot from Hyunjin and Felix's happy marriage, including their sex life. (13,3k words)

Author's note: Sorry for the late delivery. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Unlike any other toddlers, little Aster has a liking for vacuum cleaners. Instead of going to the toy store, he prefers going to the electronic store to look at vacuums, he doesn't play with them but likes hearing their sounds. You believe it's because it offers a similar sound to the white noise machine he has in his room.

"Vacuum!" He adorably shouts, jumping on his little feet while pointing at the vacuum on the display.

"Yes, vacuum!" You nod.

"Wanna play!" He cutely mumbles while tugging his index finger between his two front teeth.

Seeing that it is displayed on the top shelf, there's no way you can put it down yourself and risk knocking the other things on the display, you squat down to be on the same eye level with him.

"It's too heavy," you tell him, gently patting his small head.

You point at the one on the bottom shelf and offer it to him to play, "How about this one?"

He eagerly nods, watching you take the vacuum cleaner for a spin even though it's not turned on. You carefully hand it to him, letting him hold the handle with his small hand, and push it through the aisle of the electronic store.

"Do you like it, Aster?"

He's laughing as he keeps pushing and making vacuuming sounds through his little mouth. His laughter is so infectious that you can't help but laugh as well.

The journey in the electronic store continues to the lawnmowers. You let Aster walk on his own and observe the lawnmowers parked throughout the whole section.

"Car!" He says as he taps at the tire of the red lawnmower.

"It's not a car," you inform, lifting him by the waist and putting him on the lawnmower.

He turns his head at you with a questioning look on his face.

"It's a lawnmower," you tell him.

"Lamoomoowee," he incorrectly pronounces it, riding the lawnmower like a hobbyhorse.

"Lawnmower," you slowly enunciate it for him while steadily holding his back to prevent him from falling.

"Lammowah," he gets it even wrong this time and as if he knows he says it wrong, he breaks into a wide grin.

Oh, this is why you like children, they're pure and innocent, as opposed to adults who are oftentimes complicated and messy. With children, you get to be honest and open, you don't have to be afraid of being judged, and they see you for what you truly are.

"You're blessed with a beautiful boy," a lady says as she gently gives Aster a quick ruffle on his hair.

You feel flattered whenever someone thinks that Aster is your child but if his real parents caught anyone saying that to you, you're sure they'd be offended.

"Oh, thank you!" You mutter with a smile, "But I'm just the babysitter."

"Oh?" The lady gasps in surprise, then gives Aster another ruffle and a gentle pinch on his cheek before leaving you be.

Your phone dings in your jacket pocket and you pull it out to check if it's coming from Aster's dad. Indeed it is and he's almost finished getting his hair done.

"Aster baby, we have to go," You say to him, taking him by the hand and putting him back into the stroller, "Dada is waiting!"

You're told to meet him by the entrance of the supermarket so as you're pushing the stroller, you're craning your neck to find him.

"There's dada!" You exclaim once you spot him.

Aster is giggling as he is strapped into his seat as you push the stroller at full speed and start wriggling his body when he notices his father waving his hand at him.

"Hi, sweet boy," Felix says to his son, unbuckling the straps around his chest and lifting him.

"Are you having fun?" He asks the little one with a boop on his nose.

"Yes," Aster answers with a nod and presses his mouth onto Felix's cheek.

"We just got back from looking at vacuums," you share while holding onto the stroller.

"Must be fun. Dada is jealous," he jokingly says while hoisting Aster higher in his arms.

He then turns to look at you and shows his new hairstyle, it's still blonde but it looks like he trimmed it a little.

"What do you think?" He asks for your opinion while giving his hair a subtle flip.

You lowly chuckle, "You look stunning!"

"Thank you," he says, then turns at Aster to ask for his approval next, "Do you like it, Aster?"

"Yes," he shortly says, it's unsure whether he understands the question or not but it's enough to make Felix smile in response.

This is when you find the resemblance between Aster and his dad, they share the same warm genuine smile with their nose slightly scrunched.

The trip continues with a grocery shopping and Aster gets distracted by the plush toys on the shelf, pointing at the one that looks like the pet dog at home.

"Mandu!" He shouts in excitement.

You grab one and hand it to him, letting him play with it as he sits inside the trolley.

"It indeed looks like Mandu," Felix says as he puts a loaf of bread into the trolley.

"What a lovely couple!" An elderly says as she walks past the three of you.

Felix and you automatically exchange a look and then burst into laughter at the same time.

This is not the first time both of you have heard such a thing. Whenever the two of you are together, especially with Aster around, it seems to them that the two of you are married and Aster is your love child.

First of all, you wouldn't mind having Felix as a husband, he's beautiful and kind, he's a successful food blogger who has written dozens of cookbooks, and ultimately, a good dad to Aster.

Unfortunately, Felix is very well taken and is happily married to his husband, Hwang Hyunjin.

-

"Bubba!"

That's a nickname Aster likes to call you, you pick up his toy from under the sofa in case it's what he tries to say to you.

"Yes, sweet Aster?"

"Water, please?" He sweetly asks while rubbing his chest with his hand, a sign language that means 'please'.

"I'll get it for you," Felix says from the kitchen even though he's busy preparing dinner.

You stay with Aster, keeping him company as he's playing with his toys in front of the TV.

Felix comes with Aster's water bottle and offers it to his son himself, he watches as he sucks water through the straw.

"My sweet boy is thirsty, huh?"

Aster swallows his drinks and gasps in exaggeration, "Thank you, dada!!" He cutely mutters.

"You're very welcome, angel," he says back and kisses the top of his head.

Felix may seem tough with his lean, toned body and his deep voice but that's just what he appears to be. As opposed to tough exteriors, he has a very tender soul and is not afraid to show it.

"Do you mind turning on the news?" He politely asks.

"Yep, sure," you say, flicking the TV channels to the one you know he wanted to see.

Felix's husband, Hyunjin, works as a news anchor in a TV station and he usually works either the noon or the night news but at times, he does one in between those times.

"I texted him, telling him to wink if he wants Martinis served when he comes home," Felix says as he's chuckling while his hand constantly playing with Aster's hair.

"Oh? What?" You gasp and you must admit that an interesting way to flirt with one another, "You think he'll do it?"

Felix shrugs but he knows what he's doing because who doesn't like having drinks served when you come home after a long day of work? Not you, obviously and it's sad that no one does that for you.

A few minutes later, the breaking news intro flashes through the screen and you guess this must be it. Hyunjin's long and angular face fills the screen, his dark hair slicked back and he wears a tie in a color that compliments his skin tone well.

"Look, Aster! That's Daddy!" You say as you shake his hand in excitement.

Aster looks up from his toy and sees his dad's face on the screen, his face lights up like a Christmas tree once he sees him.

"Daddy!" He shouts.

"That's Daddy," Felix says, planting another kiss on Aster's head.

Mandu barks noticing the familiar face on TV and starts standing on his hind legs as if he's trying to reach Hyunjin through the screen.

"The meeting of the 49th Asia Audit Committee was held on 11 March at the Asia Hall to discuss matters related to audit, risk, and governance of the secretariat," Hyunjin eloquently reads the news then there it is, the wink. It's so subtle that it may seem like he was trying to blink but it's a wink.

Felix cracks a laugh, probably not expecting that he would actually do it on national broadcast and in the middle of him reading the news.

"Well, guess we'll be having Martini tonight," he says as he gets up from the carpeted floor, "You should stay for dinner because you don't want to miss it."

You feel bad for always turning down his offer and you reckon it's time to accept the invitation for dinner. Also because Martini sounds like a nice treat.

"Well, since I'm driving, I'll only have one Martini," you remind him.

"Wise choice!" He comments.

To be honest, it's always a treat to have dinner at this household. Despite his specialty in baking, Felix is a great cook and you'd love to have dinner here every day if you could but you don't want to be greedy and exploit their kindness. Boundaries exist for a reason and you respect those boundaries because at the end of the day, they're your employers and you are the employee.

Hearing the familiar sound of his dad's car pulling up the driveway, Aster runs to the door with Mandu trailing behind him, he's squealing with saliva dribbling down one corner of his mouth.

You abruptly stop setting the table to follow him and are ready to help if he accidentally trips or falls, you stop him from going further and make him wait in the foyer.

"Daddy will be here soon," you assure him, containing his excitement with one arm around his waist.

A moment later, the door opens and Hyunjin steps inside, he's still dressed in his work attire sans the suit jacket, he has his white shirt loosened around the neck and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Aster jumps as he squeals and you can't contain him anymore, you let him run at his dad. Hyunjin is quick enough to get on his knees and catches him in his arms.

"Is this Aster or monster Aster?" He likes to baby talk to the little one while pressing ticklish kisses onto his neck.

"This is monster Aster!" He playfully tickles Aster's stomach, making him squirm and giggle, more drool dribbling down his mouth.

"Give Daddy a kiss!" He demands, offering his cheek at him.

Aster opens his mouth wide and instead of kissing, it looks like he's going to take a bite out of Hyunjin's cheek.

"Ouch! That hurts!" He exclaims, rubbing his cheek which is wet with Aster's drool.

You gasp when you see the faint teeth mark on Hyunjin's cheek, "Oh, my God! You have the—" you point at his cheek.

"This is not the first time," Hyunjin calmly says to you while walking further into the house, he drops his briefcase on the sofa and comes up to his husband who's busy making sure the spaghetti sauce is flavorful.

Hyunjin places a hand on the small of Felix's back and leans in for a long, lingering kiss on the lips. Felix drops everything he's doing to properly welcome him home with a hu and not enough with one kiss, Felix pecks his lips and smiles when he pulls away.

"Aster bit me," Hyunjin immediately tells on his own son like a child, pointing at the teeth mark on his cheek.

Felix hurriedly checks it and gently rubs it with his thumb, "Aster, you bit daddy?"

"Monster Aster!" He mumbles in response to Felix.

"Oh? Monster Aster who bit daddy?"

"Uh-huh," he repeatedly nods.

"Monster Dada is coming to bite you then," Felix jokingly says.

Aster breaks into laughter and then hides in Hyunjin's neck as Felix attacks him with kisses on his stomach. It's just the three of them in their loving bubble.

"What are we having for dinner?" Hyunjin asks with his hand placing gentle rubs on Felix's back.

"Spaghetti with meatballs, Aster's favorite," He answers while stirring sauce in the pan.

"Smell good," Hyunjin comments, and then they exchange a look that is filled with so much love.

The whole interaction makes you feel like you're watching a movie scene that describes what a happy, loving family looks like. Your heart bursts thinking if the future holds something like this for you too.

"Can you stay with Bubba, darling?" Hyunjin says to his son, coming up to you to hand him over.

"Daddy will get back soon, okay?" He convinces him with a kiss on the cheek before leaving to go upstairs.

"And you, young gentleman, time to wash those dirty hands," you tell him.

Dinner is served on the table and just from the look of it, you can tell Felix's cooking is going to taste so good like always. Once in a while, you check Aster if he's eating his dinner well and from the way his mouth is slobbering with spaghetti sauce, you can tell he is.

"Isn't it like spring break for you?" Hyunjin suddenly asks.

You swallow your food before answering, "Yes."

"And you don't have any plans for spring break?"

"I do. The plan is playing with your 18-month-old son," you playfully answer while twirling pasta with your fork.

Hyunjin doesn't ask more about it, you guess he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with those kinds of questions.

"She doesn't like going out much," Felix says then flashes a knowing smile at you, "Just like you."

Hyunjin pouts at him in response but Felix finds it cute that he grabs his hand on the table and squeezes it.

"Is that true?" Hyunjin asks for confirmation from you.

"Yeah. I just want to finish college as soon as possible and I can do all those things later," you explain.

You understand that this way of thinking is unlike most people but you like to keep your focus on one thing and that is finishing your education.

You didn't even plan to keep working as their babysitter, you needed the extra money to replace your crappy car but as time goes on, you learned that they're a nice family and Aster is such a sweetheart so you decide to continue working for them until you graduate.

"Look at me, baby!" You say as you wipe Aster's mouth with a wet wipe.

He keeps wanting to nestle his head in your neck but you can't let him do that with all the spaghetti sauce all over his mouth and cheeks.

"You're getting sleepy, mmh?" you sweetly mutter as you reach to clean his cheek but he keeps dodging away.

It's not even his bedtime yet and Aster usually plays for a bit after dinner, but it seems like he can barely keep his eyes open anymore.

Hyunjin checks on you and notices that Aster is getting drowsy, "I'll get him to bed," he softly mutters to you.

You carefully hand Aster to him and he immediately nuzzles his head into the crook of his neck, then rest his eyes closed.

Since Hyunjin is taking your task away, you decide to help Felix clean up in the kitchen, scraping the leftovers off the plate to load them into the dishwasher next.

"You don't have to do that," Felix says as he's busy gathering the ingredients for the Martini.

"But I already did," you say with a grin and close the dishwasher, "Can I help you with anything?"

He looks over his shoulder at you, "Yeah, can you take the cocktail glasses out of the fridge?"

"Got you," you open the fridge and have no problem finding the three chilled dainty cocktail glasses perched on the the middle shelf of the fridge.

Felix meticulously measures the liquor, one part dry vermouth, and 6 parts gin before pouring them into the mixing glass, then gives it a good shake.

Once he deems it's mixed well, he carefully pours them into the glasses and instead of olives, he uses the lemon peel as garnish.

You're impressed with his drink-mixing skill but more impressed with how elegant he looks doing all that stuff.

"I want to be you when I grow up," you say in awe.

That earns a nice chuckle out of him as he wipes the kitchen island with a napkin, "You will," he playfully says.

"Now, where's my hard-earned Martini?" Hyunjin says as he returns from putting Aster to sleep and comes back carrying Mandu in one arm.

Felix lifts the drink and shows it to him, "It's ready!"

After having a toast, you can't bring yourself to drink it because it looks so pretty but not drinking it would be rude to the one who made it. You take a small sip and try to reserve it as long as possible.

It's so refreshing and nice, you can taste a hint of citrus from the lemon. You believe it's the first time you have a drink that is skillfully made by some.

"This is so good," you genuinely compliment and can't stop yourself from getting another sip at it.

"Compliment to the chef!" Hyunjin says with a seductive smile and pulls Felix closer to his side, resting his arm around his waist.

There's the look of love again and you can tell what's coming after that, yep, Hyunjin kisses Felix on the lips with his smile lingers on his face.

Flustered, Felix hides his face in his neck exactly like Aster did earlier.

"You always smell good, babe," Felix whispers and he probably thinks that you don't see him planting kisses onto Hyunjin's neck.

Hyunjin tilts Felix's head to land a sweet kiss on his lips and they smile at each other after, "I like it whenever you do that," he mutters, pulling him even closer to his side.

All of a sudden, you feel like third wheeling, you abort your plan to savor every sip of your Martini and gulp it at once.

"It's getting late. I'd better go," you say, putting the glass down on the kitchen island.

Not waiting for their response, you gather your things and shove them into your bag. You're walking back to them to say bye.

"Be careful on the way home," Felix says as he gives you a quick hug.

You hoist the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder, "I will. Goodnight!"

"I'll send you off," Hyunjin offers, walking you out of the door, and as you take the car keys out of your bag, he snatches it.

"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" He asks.

"It's only one drink," you assure him.

"Sobriety test. Go!" He says, refusing to make a compromise.

You subtly roll your eyes at him and walk in a straight line to prove that you're not under the influence and sober enough to drive.

"See?" You tell him as you turn around to face him.

"Now, do a cartwheel!" He orders, leaning his side against the doorway.

"Seriously?" You groan.

Hyunjin bursts out laughing, "No. I'm joking."

He approaches you to hand your car keys back and puts them right in your hand, "Here. Drive safely."

"I will."

"Thank you for today," he says as he stands in the doorway.

You flash him a smile before getting into your car, "Goodnight, Mr. Hwang!" You poke fun, knowing how much he hates being called by his surname.

"It's Hyunjin," he insists while gritting his teeth.

You have the fun now and chuckle, "Goodnight, it's Hyunjin!" You shout as you pull the car out of the driveway.

That's pretty much how your day went in the Hwang-Lee household. You've been working for them for eight months and there's not a day where you don't feel jealous of their romantic and harmonious marriage life.

-

They don't make you babysit on the weekends but there's always an exception.

Tonight is a date night for Felix and Hyunjin, and you come a little after seven even though they'll leave at 8. You knock on the door and let yourself in, they probably know you'll be coming anyway.

"Bubba is here!" Felix says, knowing that it's you who came through the door.

Aster appears from behind the wall and grins when he looks at you, he's trudging his way to you and almost stumbles on his own little feet.

"It's Astalalala," you exclaim, calling him by the nickname you give him. You squat down to hug him and catch a whiff of that nice baby scent that clings to him.

"How are you, sweet Aster?" You ask.

"Good," he shortly answers.

"And where's my kiss?" You ask, tapping your cheek to show him where to kiss.

He rushes to kiss you on the cheek and instead of his lips, his nose bumps your cheek first.

"Thank you, Astalala," you sweetly say with a smile.

You carry him up as you walk inside and find Felix in the kitchen as you expected, he is already dressed in a dark silk shirt with a tie-neck collar and is making sandwiches.

"Hey, I made you a cold-cut sandwich," He says, shoving a piece of cheese into his mouth.

"Oh, no. I had dinner," you meekly say, feeling bad for refusing.

"Well, you can have it later," he simply resolves.

"With pleasure," you respond because it looks so good and you'll definitely eat it as soon as you get hungry.

"Aster had his dinner already," He informs you as he puts back everything into the fridge.

He suddenly lands a slap on his forehead as if he's just remembered something, "Oh, I forgot to change his pillow covers."

"Don't worry, I'll do it," you assure him.

He awkwardly stands in front of you and asks, "Is it too much?"

"Not at all. You look stunning," you convince him, turning your head at Aster to seek his approval, "Right, Aster?"

"Yesss," he hisses through his bunny teeth.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Felix says and presses a kiss on his round cheek.

As you take Aster to the living room to watch his favorite cartoon, Hyunjin appears from the top of the stairs and is dressed in a suit, he skips the tie tonight and keeps the top two buttons open.

"Are you ready to leave?" He asks his husband who's still busy in the kitchen.

Felix glances up to see Hyunjin descending the stairs, "Yeah. I just need to—"

"Oh, my God. Stop cleaning up," you scold him since he can't seem to relax without making sure his kitchen is clean and tidy.

Felix drops the cloth and washes his hands under the sink, "Yes, I'm ready," he replies to his husband.

Hyunjin and Felix take turns kissing Aster before leaving the house, you send them on their way out while carrying their son in your arms.

"Bye, baby," Felix throws an air kiss at Aster.

"Bye, bye, dada!" You make him say them to his dad and he follows suit, waving his small hand at him as he says it.

"Have a great night!" You shout at them before they get into the car.

There's not much left to do but play with Aster in the living room and at the first sign of him getting drowsy, you hurriedly run him a bath and prepare him for bed.

As he picks the storybook he wants you to read, you change his pillow covers per Felix's instruction, then you sit on the small sofa and have Aster sit on your lap to read the storybook together, he mostly looks at the pictures as you read it to him.

It doesn't take long until he drifts into sleep with his head resting on your chest, you cuddle him until he's deep in his slumber before putting him in his crib.

"Night, sweet Aster," you whisper and leave the door to his bedroom slightly ajar.

As a reward, you eat the sandwich Felix made and it's worth every bite of it, having it with a can of soda from the fridge. Finished with your second dinner, you take a tour around the house, looking at the photos hung on the walls.

One is of Aster when he was a baby along with his tiny footprints and then there's a picture of the three of them together on Aster's first birthday. On the biggest frame is Hyunjin and Felix's wedding photo, they're both wearing white suits but Hyunjin's is embroidered with a flower pattern while Felix has this lace tail on the back of his suit jacket. You've never seen a more beautiful couple than them and you believe they're what people call a match made in heaven.

Having nothing else to do, you curl up on the sofa and read a book you brought with you. The next thing you know, you wake up startled hearing someone entering the passcode to the house.

You scramble to get up and pick up the book falling off your lap, you check the time on your phone, it's a little after eleven so it must be them coming back from their date.

It's true, you can hear their laughs as they enter the house and their low chatter, you also catch them smooching through the reflection on the TV screen. You act like you're not seeing it and cover your face with the book, pretending to read.

When you hear their footsteps coming into the room, you slowly put down your book and smile, "Oh, you guys are back!"

"Oh, hey," Felix says, foolishly grinning with his cheeks flushed, looking like he's slightly drunk.

Hyunjin looks not that different, his cheeks red and he's all smiles when he places his hand on Felix's waist.

"I'll go check on Aster," he says with a soft smile.

You wait until Hyunjin leaves to ask something, "Hey, do you mind if I'm staying over? I'm so sleepy, I don't think I'll able to drive home—"

"Of course!" Felix hastily answers, then sits on the sofa next to you, "You know I don't feel good letting you drive at night."

"Oh, thank you," you sincerely say.

"Hey, since you're staying, why don't we have a glass of wine?"

It's a nice offer and you would love to accept it but you don't want to disturb their date night, it's better if you get yourself out of the scene as to not ruin it for them.

"I'd love to but I'm... I'm tired," you gently refuse with an apologetic smile.

He places his hand on your hand and squeezes it, "That's okay. You'd better rest then."

You smile at him and bring your book with you, "Goodnight."

"Night!" He says back.

Right before you enter the guest room, you see Hyunjin surprises Felix with a back hug and then he whispers something into his ear that makes him laugh, filling the space with his deep laughter.

Now you know that they're not drunk, they're just in love.

-

Sunday morning at the Hwang-Lee household consists of a hungry toddler and a cook who doubts his pancake souffle is fluffy enough. Then you enter the scene as a girl in search of her first intake of caffeine.

"Morning," you cheerily greet everyone, softly poking Aster's cheek as he chews on his mini pancakes.

"Morning!" Felix says back without looking up from the pan, "Coffee?"

"I'll get it myself," you say, getting yourself a cup from the cabinet and carefully pouring some hot coffee from the pot.

"How's your sleep?" He asks, serving you a delicious-looking pancake souffle, it jiggles as he pushes the plate across the kitchen island.

"I slept so well, thank you," you answer with a sleepy smile and start with a small sip of coffee, you can feel it rejuvenate you from the inside.

Felix anxiously watches as you eat the pancake, "Do you think it's fluffy enough?"

You take a moment to chew and swallow before answering, "I think it's perfect," you honestly answer, it tastes even better than the ones made in the pastry shop.

"More apple, please!" Aster cutely asks.

Felix rushes to slice the peeled apple for him and places them on his plate, "More apple for Aster," he cutely says, then kisses his head.

"Thank you, dada," Aster mumbles with his mouth full of food.

He then pulls the drawer open and takes something out, "Since you're here..."

He slides an envelope toward you and you reckon it's your pay, he insists on paying weekly because he knows you may need it for gas. One look at it and you know they put extra bills in there. They have always been so generous with the pay.

"Thank you," you say, accepting it with gratitude.

"Do you mind running some errands for me tomorrow?"

"No. I don't mind at all," you answer.

Felix comes up with a list of things to buy along with his credit card, handing it to you, "You can come late tomorrow."

"Consider it done," you assure him, putting the list and the credit card into the envelope.

"The last one is for you," he says, putting a gift card in front of you, "So you don't have any excuses to not spoil yourself."

As expected, he knows you so well. You're reluctant to spend money on such things when it can be used for more important things but Felix oftentimes reminds you that it's okay to spoil yourself once in a while.

You crack a laugh and put the gift card into the envelope, "I will. Thank you," you say.

Not only generous, they always come with extra something like this. Just last week, he bought you a new laptop bag and scented candles.

The sound of Mandu's barks only means that Hyunjin is back from walking him. He comes in panting and brushing his dark hair to the back, exposing a layer of sweat coating his forehead.

"Mandu almost fought someone's dog," Hyunjin shares as he's getting himself a glass of water to quench his thirst. You find it cute that he likes to rant to his husband like a little kid.

"It's a Rottweiler and it's like this big," Hyunjin continues, describing how big the dog Mandu almost picked a fight with. He then goes to sit on the stool next to his son and watches his ear.

"What do you have here, baby?" Hyunjin asks the little one with a gentle ruffle on his hair.

"Apple," he shortly answers, offering a slice to him.

Hyunjin takes it into his mouth even though it's slobbering with yogurt, "yum..." he hums in delight.

Felix joins in with them, sitting next to him, and intently watches as Hyunjin digs into the pancake souffle.

"I don't think it's fluffy enough," Felix sighs, taking his baking very seriously.

Hyunjin takes a second to thoroughly taste it and says, "No, it's perfect," he disagrees with him.

He then looks at you to convince him more, "It's perfect. Right?"

"I told him the exact same thing earlier," you respond, shoving a spoonful of it into your mouth.

"It is?" Felix doubtfully asks as he also digs into the pancake and takes a bite.

"It's perfect," Hyunjin reassures him with a peck on his lips.

When he pulls away from the kiss, he softly mutters, "You're perfect."

This is too early for this but you have accepted the fact that there'll be not a day where it doesn't feel like you're third wheeling when you're around them. You look away and quietly sip your cup of coffee.

"Hey, we're going to the aquarium today. Are you coming?" Hyunjin asks.

You look around to check if Hyunjin is really asking you, "oh that sounds fun but I have to drive my mom to her book club meeting," you explain.

They had a date night and now they're having a family day, and it's endearing that they invite you along but you can only say yes once in a while.

You gently pinch Aster's round cheek and say, "Maybe next time.

-

The next day, you come to their house with both hands carrying bags of groceries. Notices that you're struggling to carry them yourself, Felix comes to your aid, taking a few bags out of your hands.

"Sorry I made you do all this," Felix says as he puts the bags on the kitchen counter with loud thudding sounds.

"No, it's okay. It's not a big deal," you assure him, putting the last few bags onto the counter.

Since everything is all accounted for, you take out all the receipts along with his credit card and give them back to him.

"I hope I didn't miss anything," you say.

Felix doesn't even glance at the receipts, he puts them inside the drawer and slips the credit card back into his wallet.

"I guess Aster is napping?" You ask, sitting on the stool with a glass of water.

"Yes, he just went to nap," he answers, "Lunch?"

"I had lunch."

"I just baked some Madeleine. Do you want some?" He offers.

"With tea?" You ask with your eyebrow raised.

He brightly grins as if you read his mind, "Of course!"

After putting away a box of party supplies in the pantry, you join Felix on the back porch for some tea and Madeleine he baked. The sunny weather makes a perfect ambiance for tea time.

You find Felix scribbling something in his notebook, the one he uses to write down recipes or ideas for his next cooking videos. You grab a Madeleine once you sit on the chair next to him.

"So, I assume you'll film a cooking video soon?"

After having Aster, Felix decides to be a stay-at-home dad and film cooking videos for his food blog, he's still has a great following and plans on writing a cookbook.

"Yes, and it's not going to be an easy one," He says, hinting at something with his scrunched nose.

"Does it involve your 19-month-old son?" You guess, raising your eyebrow at him.

One of Felix's most popular cooking videos is one with Aster in it, you guess people like seeing them together even though it could get messy at some point.

"It wouldn't be the first time," you say since you had the experience of helping them film the previous one and it was messy.

"Will you help me?" Felix asks with hopeful eyes.

"Absolutely!"

It's not even about the money anymore. Helping them comes as a second nature to you. In fact, they feel like a family to you that there's nothing that you wouldn't do for them.

-

Aster can indeed be a handful but not the kind that you can't manage. He was only 13 months old when the previous video was filmed and he's older now, hopefully, he's better at understanding what and how things work.

Once he wakes up from his nap, you give him snacks, some fruits, and cheese slices while Felix is preparing ingredients in the kitchen and setting up the cameras.

Now that he's refreshed from the nap and full from the snacks, Aster gets in the right mood to film with Felix. He makes him stand on the chair next to him to start filming.

Your job is simple, make sure that the cameras are recording well and filming at the right angles, the rest will be edited by Felix.

"Today, Aster and I are making banana bread," Felix says to the camera.

It never ceases to amaze you how that deep voice belongs to him.

"What are we making, Aster?" He asks his little one.

"Banana bread!" He eloquently answers.

"That's right," Felix cheerful responds and briefly kisses his head.

Felix starts peeling the banana and handing it to Aster, telling him to break them into pieces. Aster follows the instructions well but instead of dumping them into the mixing bowl, he eats it.

"You just had your snack a while ago," Felix says while laughing and letting him have a piece for now.

He then hands him the next banana and watches him breaking it off again. As he's about to put it in his mouth, he looks at him and says, "Aster, into the bowl!"

Aster gives in and dumps the banana into the bowl. However, on the third banana, he caves in and thinks of eating it again. Felix quietly watches him, letting him decide whether he would follow the urge or be able to resist it.

Aster looks at Felix and grins, catching him off guard, he shoves the banana into his small mouth. You hold the urge to laugh out loud watching the whole thing behind the camera.

"Bubba, I think we need more bananas," Felix mutters at you.

You hurriedly pick a couple of bananas from the fruit bowl and hand it to him, no need to worry about getting filmed, Felix will edit you out later.

After smashing the bananas in the bowl, Felix shows Aster how to crack an egg and dumps it into the bowl. He fails on the first try, completely shatters the egg and it drops onto the table.

"We'll do it together, okay?" Felix patiently teaches him to properly crack the egg on the edge of the bowl and successfully puts it into the bowl this time.

"You know what it is, Aster?" He lifts a bowl of flour at him.

Aster looks at you to find the answer, you inaudibly mutter the answer to him.

"Foufou," he hesitantly mumbles his answer.

"Yes, flour," Felix exclaims, letting him dump the whole thing into the mixing bowl.

Aster accidentally pours it off the bowl and some of it spills onto the table, "Oh, no..." he sadly mutters.

"That's okay," Felix assures him, adding extra flour from the bag.

"Now, sugar," he says, making Aster do it again.

He shakes his head, probably afraid would spill it again, "No. Dada do it," he says.

"Dada knows Aster can do it," he encourages but you can tell that he tries not to intervene as Aster lifts the bowl of sugar.

Aster manages to put it in perfectly and Felix gasps in pride, "See? Dada knows you can do it!"

Aster grins in response to his dad's praise and watches as Felix mixes the whole thing with a whisk. He stops to switch turns with his son, letting him mix it as he pleases.

"There you go," Felix sweetly mutters.

It indeed gets very messy at the end of the filming but it's nothing compares to how heartwarming it is watching them baking together. Felix is so patient and gentle the whole time and Aster is smart for his age, precocious even.

As everyone waits for the banana bread out of the oven, you take Aster to the back porch and let Mandu out to play in the backyard. Together, you're watching the sunset and a flock of birds flying in between the burst of gold and orange in the sky.

"Do you see that, Aster?"

"Birdies!" Aster exclaims, tilting his head and looking mesmerized by what he's seeing.

"Yes. Birdies flying," you say.

Aster raises his hand in the air and waves it at the birds, "Bye, bye birdies!"

"Bye, bye birdies," you follow suit, also waving your hand high.

When you come back inside, you are greeted by the delicious smell of freshly baked banana bread. Despite the messy process, it turns out really well.

Felix takes a few pictures for the blog and slices it to have a taste at it, he hands you a slice on a plate. As for Aster, he breaks a piece, blowing on it before feeding it to him.

"Does it taste good?"

"Good," he answers even though he's still chewing.

Considering that it was made by a toddler, it tastes alright and probably tastes better than the one baked by an amateur at baking like you.

"Good job, Aster," you raise your hand at him for a high-five.

In the middle of dinner, Aster gets sleepy and you immediately take him upstairs. You don't even need to read him a storybook or rocking him in your arms, he must be tired that he's falling asleep while having his bottle of milk.

You come back downstairs and find Felix has done cleaning up in the kitchen.

"Hey, will you stay for a round of video games?" Felix asks, turning around from the counter as you arrive at the base of the stairs.

Since Hyunjin will be coming home late to do late-night news, you decide to stay a little longer with Felix even though you have zero ideas on how to play video games. He patiently guides you through it while also controlling his console in his hands.

In the third round, you finally get the hang of it but not good enough to beat Felix at it. You eventually give up and decide to watch him play on the side.

Felix takes a break from playing and grabs two cans of beer from the fridge, drinking it on the sofa together.

"Hey, can I ask you some personal questions?" He asks out of the blue.

Yes, you're working for him but you are comfortable enough with him to talk about personal things. You nod in answer, "Yes, sure."

Felix sips his beer first before coming up with the personal question he wanted to ask, "Are you seeing anyone?"

"No," you answer with a light head shake.

"May I know why?"

"I'm not looking for relationships at the moment," you shortly answer.

Finishing your college is your top priority now and as for everything else, you can always do it later once you graduate.

"Is it because you don't want to or...?"

"I think I've said it before that I'm focusing on graduating college first," you answer.

"But are you open to it?"

"I'm always open to it but not for now," you firmly answer.

"How about casual ones?"

"You mean... casual dating?"

"Why? You've done it, right? Sex?"

You shyly chuckle because you don't talk about such things with anyone, not even with your mom.

"Don't get shy with me. We're both grown up and Aster is asleep," he says with a soft laugh.

"Well, I've done it but... I don't know," you decide to leave it at that, deciding not to tell him in detail.

"Was it good? Bad? Average?"

"I don't have that many experiences to know for certain if it was good or bad," you honestly share and it surprises you that you don't find it awkward to tell him that. Maybe it's because you know he won't be judgmental about it.

Felix nods at your answer and he seems to need a moment to process it, "Are you open to experiment?"

"You make it sound like it's a chem class," you playfully respond to his question.

"Experimenting is what led me to meet Aster's dad," Felix remarks with a quick eyebrow raise.

You crack a laugh and finish your can of beer, "I don't know. I'm not that confident with myself."

"Nonsense!" He strongly disagrees.

"You're undeniably gorgeous," he genuinely compliments as he brushes your hair to the side, "and that says something coming from me."

You laugh again and put down your empty can on the table, "well, thank you!"

Felix shifts on his seat and turns his body to face you, "do you trust me?"

"I do," you answer without a beat and that tells him how much you trust him.

"Do you trust me enough to experiment with me?"

"With you?" You ask in confirmation.

"Yes."

"I don't know..." you doubtfully answer, "I don't want things to be awkward between us."

"It won't. Trust me," he convinces you.

There's nothing to lose here and it's just an experiment, not a real thing. It's more relieving to know that he initiates the idea and you can trust him on that.

"Who knows you have a thing for a dad of one?" He jokingly says.

"Okay," you say with a nervous laugh.

"Okay," he says, putting his hand on your shoulder and gently massaging it, "Now, relax."

Felix glides his hand up to the nape of your neck and continues massaging you there, his fingers softly scratching the back of your hair. It works to help you relax, your shoulders are no longer tense and your heart beats steadily.

"Now close your eyes," he speaks so low it's almost like a whisper.

You obey him without question and close your eyes, nothing happens until a moment later, you feel his lips against yours, soft meets soft, and together locked in a slow, sensuous kiss.

Felix skillfully pries your mouth open with his tongue and you willingly open it for him, letting him taste you more.

With the hand that stays on the nape of your neck, he can angle your head as he pleases, and that way he can deepen the kiss.

The quiet in the room only adds to the tension and you hold your breath, not wanting to change a thing about this moment, you want to keep it as long as you can and only let go when you start to feel faint from lack of oxygen in your lungs.

"And that's what a good kiss should be," he mutters.

Instead of feeling awkward, you feel funny and break into laughter, "Maybe I do have a thing for a dad of one," you joke back.

Hyunjin walks in on the two of you laughing on the sofa together and both of you immediately quiet down which gives the impression that he interrupted something.

"What's going on?" He asks, taking his suit jacket off and folding it neatly in his arm.

"Nothing," you shortly answer.

"I taught her how to kiss," Felix blurts out.

"Oh," Hyunjin says, but he doesn't seem as surprised as you think he would be, "Are you sure you taught her well?"

Hyunjin's unexpected reaction to it makes you wonder if he knows that it's true and he doesn't mind any of it. Or maybe you should feel relieved that he doesn't mind that his husband kissed the babysitter.

"Hey, why don't you stay over?" Felix suggests out of the blue.

The plan is to leave once Hyunjin is already home, you grab your phone and get up from the sofa, "Oh, no, I'll just—"

"You're staying over and I'm getting us drinks," Felix insists, pushing you to sit back down on the sofa.

"I'll help," you offer, getting the glasses from the cabinet while Felix is getting the liquor.

You return to the living room while clutching the glasses close to your chest, finding Hyunjin grabbing the knot of his tie and loosening it around the collar before pulling it hard, seamlessly taking it off at once.

"You don't know how to kiss, huh?" He says with a smirk, undoing the cuffs of his shirt before rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

"I know how to kiss," you say with a dramatic eye roll.

Felix places a sealed bottle of liquor and a bowl of ice on the table along with a sealed bottle of liquor, "I showed her how a good kiss should be," he says.

Hyunjin sits on the sofa and grabs the bottle of liquor to uncap it, "Show it to me then."

You snort thinking that he's joking and Felix shifts the attention to the drinks, "Let's have some drinks first!"

Felix drops an ice cube into each glass while Hyunjin carefully pours the liquor to fill all three glasses without spilling a drop.

However, on the third round of drinks, Felix holds his hand out at you, "Come on!"

You glance up and look at him in confusion, "Huh?"

"Time to put it to practice," he says, holding his hand farther at you.

You awkwardly place your hand in his and let him help you get up from the sofa, he pulls you so hard that you bump into him.

Felix is quick enough to catch you with his arm around your waist, "do you trust me?"

"To do what?"

He dramatically rolls his eyes at you and asks you again, "Do you trust me?"

In a way that he has no intention to harm you mentally or physically and you feel safe enough to do almost anything then the answer is yes.

"Yes," you reply.

Felix nods as he takes your answer, he holds you close and puts his hand on your jaw, "Just follow my lead, okay?"

You don't know what he's going to do but you nod anyway, "Okay."

He leans in and kisses you, a little harder than the previous one. With the hand steadily holding your jaw, he can easily part your mouth open by pulling your chin down and that way, he can deepen the kiss.

One thing that you have to admit is that Felix is a good kisser, his kiss contains all sorts of things, it's hot and wet, gentle yet intense at times.

He has thing thing that he does with his tongue, he likes to twirl it around yours before tugging it between his teeth. The moment he lets go, you're running out of breath.

"Good, right?" Felix asks.

You innocently nod, "Yeah."

"Now, you do it to me," he says, asking you to practice it on him.

You take another moment to take a breath before leaning in and kissing him, doing exactly what he did to you earlier. It might not be perfect but you're trying your best to impress him.

As you're busy kissing him, Felix takes your hands and places them on him, one on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck. He then puts his arms around you and pulls you closer until there's no inches of space left between your bodies.

Feeling left out, Hyunjin gets up from his seat and stands behind you. You're not aware of his presence until you feel his hot breath against your ear.

"Guys, let me in on the fun," he mutters, planting his mouth on your neck.

What in the world is this? This should only exist in your wild fantasies. You have to actively tell your brain that it's real and it's happening right now.

Felix breaks the kiss only for Hyunjin to take his turn, turning you the other way and pressing a ķiss on you. His lips are softer than you imagined, kissing him feels like you're kissing the clouds.

Felix's hands are making their way to the front of your blouse, undoing the buttons, and then taking it off you, exposing your upper half body to the cool night air.

As if Hyunjin kissing you isn't enough, Felix puts your hair to the side so he can place searing kisses on the nape of your neck and shoulders. He swiftly snaps your bra open with one hand then pulls the straps of your bra down your shoulders.

Aware that your breasts are freed from their confines, Hyunjin glides his mouth down to your neck while Felix is cupping them in his hands, fingers lightly rubbing on the blossoming buds.

"Oh, they're perfect..." Hyunjin sighs in awe, licking his already wet lips.

He slightly bends down to be able to put his mouth on your breast with Felix holding it up for him, you gulp air as you watch him using his tongue to play with your nipple.

A moan escapes your mouth as Felix pushes your breasts to the middle which allows Hyunjin to take them both in his greedy mouth at once.

After a while, Hyunjin helps himself by holding them up himself. Felix lets go of you to take off his sweater, he then takes your arm to drape it around his neck.

"You're so soft, bub," he whispers into your ear.

You can feel his warm skin against your back and the outline of his abs as your hand aimlessly groping around his body.

Hyunjin detaches his mouth off your breast and he reaches past your shoulder to kiss Felix, making you caught in between them.

This is the first time you don't mind third-wheeling them, you look at how their lips are locked in a passionate kiss and feel jealous of it.

"Come here, babe," Hyunjin says, pulling you in and making you a part of that kiss.

You get to the point that you can't tell whose lips are you kissing, it's one, endless kiss, soft on soft on soft.

Felix manages to take Hyunjin's shirt off and gets it out of the way, it's at a time like this that you feel the need to step out to understand the situation you're in.

They're different but beautiful at the same time, one offers different charms than the other but they're as attractive in your eyes. Your eyes are having a feast as you look at their sculpted bodies like looking at two Greek gods and it indeed feels a little unreal.

"Let's spice things up," Felix comes up with a wild idea and it involves pushing Hyunjin onto the sofa.

Unsure of what to do, you follow Felix's lead, sitting on the carpeted floor as he parts his legs open and Felix starts to unzip his fly open. He doesn't waste time pulling his erection of out its confine and lets it spring free.

They're maintaining eye contact as Felix pumps his length in his hand and then he turns to you, taking your hand and wrapping it around Hyunjin's cock.

Hyunjin's cock is all about the length but that doesn't mean the girth isn't impressive, the pink tip is as luscious as his full lips, making you want to have a lick at it.

As if he reads through your head, Felix asks, "Want to try and take it in your mouth?"

Not really wanting the whole thing in your mouth, mostly because you doubt you can take it well but since he offered, you nod in answer.

"Want me to show it how?" He offers again.

And you nod again.

Felix licks his lips before starting, slightly tilting his head down and then licking the tip until it's wet. He takes a couple of inches into his mouth, adjusting himself to the size to finally take more of Hyunjin's length, and the next thing you know, he takes all of him in his mouth.

You don't know how he does that with his small mouth and without gagging, you keep gulping your air as you're watching him.

On the other hand, Hyunjin softly scratches Felix's head and lowly mutters, "Just like that, baby."

Felix gasps when he pulls away, a string of saliva connected his lips with the tip of Hyunjin's cock.

"Want to go for it?" he asks, scooting to the back to make room for you.

You like how they do not pressure you to do anything you don't want to and it creates a safe space, making you feel comfortable enough to continue.

To begin, you take a deep breath and let it out. Then you follow what Felix has shown you, licking the tip just like you wanted to and then slowly, taking him into your mouth.

Felix observes from the back, he gathers your hair in his hands and makes a makeshift ponytail on the back of your head.

"Oh, you're taking me so well," Hyunjin coos, can't stop looking at how his cock slides in and out of your mouth.

When you deem you have adjusted yourself to his size, you dare yourself to take more only to have it hit on your uvula and you immediately pull back.

"Slowly, bub, slowly," Felix softly mutters to your ear.

You reorganize your breath and try again, taking it slow as Felix instructed, only taking it as far as you can.

"You can use your hand," Felix suggests, putting your hand on the base of Hyunjin's cock to compensate for the rest you can't take in your mouth.

You sync the movement of your mouth and you can hear Hyunjin lowly moaning in response to the stimulations.

"Like that, yes," Hyunjin sighs, throwing his head in back, completely overwhelmed by what you're doing to him.

Seeing that encourages you to keep going without forgetting to breathe and relax.

"Good girl," Felix praises with a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

He lets you have it for another moment before stopping you, he holds your shoulder and says, "Want to do it together?"

Unable to give a verbal answer, you nod in answer.

You and Felix, each take a side and then stick your tongue out to run it up and down Hyunjin's cock. At times, you both go in the same direction, your tongues twirled around his cock and alternating between sucking and licking.

Oh, to be Hyunjin and blessed with the view of you and Felix, both of your mouths lathering around his cock. He's truly enjoying it, he tangles his hands in your heads and gently tugging at it.

"Oh, so good, so fucking good..." Hyunjin breathlessly murmurs.

Eventually, both of your lips meet on the tip and Felix pulls you for a kiss, he holds you by the neck, smiling as he kisses you.

"You're a fast learner," he praises you.

You shyly smile and mutter, "Thank you!"

He brushes your hair to the side, also removing the hair stuck to your lips then tucks it behind your ear. He leans in to place kisses along your jaw and continues the trail to your lips.

Felix gets up from the floor to sit on the sofa, he looks at you and says, "Come sit on my lap!"

You do what he asked, sitting on his lap and slowly resting your back against his chest. Felix smiles as he wraps his arms around you, his hands caress your skin with so much gentleness. You take the initiative, tilting his head so you can kiss him as he touches you all over.

Another pair of hands join in, Hyunjin's long fingers tugging at the waistband of your jeans as he plans to take your jeans off. Once he pops the button open, he slowly pulls them down and you're shivering as his fingertips graze your skin.

You feel exposed as you're only wearing your plain white underwear and Hyunjin's head is between your legs, hanging not far from your heating core.

"Relax, bub," Felix coos as he glides his hand down until it lands on your clothed sex, his dainty finger skillfully finds your bundle of nerves through the fabric and circles on it.

You're squirming against him and can't hold yourself back from moaning as he applies just the right pressure on it, making you drenched down there.

Felix puts his hand to cup your sex and rubs his fingers in between your folds, "Let's take this off, mmh?"

Hyunjin volunteers to do it for you, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear and Felix makes you hold your legs up so he can easily take it off of you.

Even after the underwear is off, Felix steadily holds your legs by the back of your knees and then parts your legs open, making you feel more exposed than before.

Felix presses a haste kiss on your jaw and says, "Hyunjin will take good care of you now."

Your attention is shifted to the man kissing down your inner thigh, you're squirming as his mouth inches closer to your wetness and when it finally makes contact, you sharply gasp.

If it weren't for Felix's hands steadily keeping your legs open, you would have clamped Hyunjin's head in between. The sight of his red, plush lips on your cunt is enough to arouse you, but now he's using his tongue, running it up and down your slit. He teases your hole with his finger before replacing it with his tongue.

"Oh, fu—" You press your lips together to stop yourself from finishing your curse.

Felix lets go of your leg so he can put his hand in Hyunjin's hair and pushes his head deeper into your wetness while Hyunjin is intensely staring back at him.

"You're doing good, darling," he says to him.

Hyunjin smiles in response to his words, he draws back to take a breath and opens his mouth wider to take more of you.

"Touch yourself," Felix says, taking your hands in his and he makes you cup your own breasts in your hands, kneading them together with him.

"Feel so good, right?" He murmurs, his breath tickling your ear.

You're overwhelmed, your legs are spasming at how intense it gets and the knot inside you tightening, you feel like imploding. You've never experienced these feelings before until now and you don't know how to handle it.

Hyunjin retracts his mouth, showing his mouth and chin glistening wet with your essence. He lands a lick between your folds and slowly, inserts his finger into you.

"Oh..." you moan, gripping Felix's forearm so hard your nails dug into the flesh.

Hyunjin smirks as he stares up at you while pumping his finger in and out of you. A while later, he pulls it out only to add another digit and now two of his long, slim fingers are inside you.

"The way you're sucking my fingers in..." he sighs, planting his mouth on your clit to tease it with his tongue and suck on it.

As if that isn't enough for him, he curls his fingers and he touches you right on the spot that makes you loudly moan. You can tell that Felix is looking at the baby monitor to check on Aster which reminds you to keep yourself quiet. But it's so hard as Hyunjin incessantly sucking on your clit with his fingers repeatedly hitting on your spot.

When Hyunjin pulls away, you can finally breathe out and relax, far too relaxed that you feel weak on the legs. Felix has to move you like you were a rag doll, he's laying you down on the sofa and then he lays next to you.

"Are you okay, bub?" He asks you with a gentle caress on your cheek.

Other than can't feel your legs? You nod, "I'm okay."

Felix softly smiles and plants his lips on yours again, making you a little less conscious and less insecure with yourself. You allow yourself to do as you please, touching his body and boldly putting your hand in his pants. You pull his pants down just enough to let his cock spring free and put your hand around it, slowly stroking it.

"Fast learner," he murmurs against your lips.

You triumphantly smile in response, opening your mouth for him so he can deepen the kiss.

The sofa isn't big enough to fit three people and Hyunjin ends up hovering above you, placing kisses on your neck and chest.

Felix's hand parts your legs open and he doesn't waste time touching you there again, rubbing on your clit as he kisses you.

The second Felix breaks the kiss, Hyunjin takes his turn. He lowers his mouth on you, hastily kissing you on the lips and then on the skin under your ear.

"Want to be inside you," he whispers.

He cups your jaw and looks at you with a piercing gaze, "Can I?"

The first thing you do is look at Felix to seek his permission first. Instead of doing that, he asks the same thing to you.

"Will you let Hyunjin do it, bub?"

It's too late to back out now, isn't it? Honestly, you've been wondering what it feels like to have something beautiful like what they have and now, you get the chance to experience that.

You swallow air and nod, but you know they need the consent to be uttered verbally, "Yes."

Rather than going right into it, Hyunjin and Felix work together to place kisses all over you, you believe they're trying to make you relax and it works, you feel less nervous with every searing kiss they plant on your skin.

Felix puts your leg over his body, exposing your gushing hole to Hyunjin and he stares at it while stroking his cock in his hand, so hard and veiny, pulsating with so much desire.

"You're so wet, bub," Felix hums as he lightly caresses your inner thighs with his fingertips.

Getting impatient, Hyunjin rubs his length in between your folds, lubricating it with your arousal. Felix helps to smear it all over his length and gives it a few pumps.

"And you're so hard, my love," he says to Hyunjin which he immediately responds with a haste kiss on his lips.

"You have to wait for your turn," Hyunjin says, leaving another peck on his lips before shifting his attention back to you.

Hyunjin tenderly kisses your lips and holds your chin as he says, "I'm going in, yeah?"

With one hand resting on your abdomen, he aims his cock toward your entrance and slowly pushes it in. Felix props his elbow against the sofa to be able to see how Hyunjin's cock disappeared into you little by little.

Oh, he stretches you out and fills you in immediately, you look down and he's not fully in yet.

"Just a little bit more, bub," Felix mutters to you, placing soothing rubs on your inner thigh.

"So tight," Hyunjin says through his gritted teeth, also overwhelmed by being inside you.

Hyunjin pulls back to slowly push it back inside you deeper than before. The slightest of movement and you can feel his whole length inside you.

"Oh! Oh, my—" you muffle yourself by pressing your lips together.

"You take him so well, bub," Felix coos, removing the hair covering your face then kisses you.

Hyunjin gives it a moment to adjust to each other, he rubs your abdomen and places a tender kiss on your sternum, "You feel so good around me," He murmurs, his lips brushing your skin as he speaks.

Felix gives Hyunjin's hair a ruffle and pulls him for a kiss, then together they place kisses on each side of your face. He turns your head to the side and captures your lips in a kiss as Hyunjin starts moving.

He starts slow and keeps a steady pace, he maintains eye contact with you if he isn't looking down at the way his cock slips in and out of you.

"Do I feel good?" Hyunjin asks in a soft tone and a soft gaze.

"Uh-huh," you answer between your moans.

Hyunjin smiles and he remains steadily thrusting into you, but adding more intensity to it, the skin slapping sound grows louder and echoes in the living room.

Felix buries his mouth in your neck while his hand goes down south, giving you extra stimulation by playing with your clit.

"Please, please..." you beg.

"Please, what?" Hyunjin asks with a faint smirk on his face.

You don't know why you plead in the first place but it's getting so overwhelming, you don't know how you can take this much and your brain is still able to function.

"Please..." you pathetically plead again.

Hyunjin pauses for a second, he props his hands on each side of your waist to give him more leverage, and that way, he can add more depth and intensity to his thrust.

"You want to cum, mmh?"

You eagerly nod even though you're not sure if that's what you want but you know it's what you need.

"You hear the girl," Felix says, putting his hand on Hyunjin's shoulder, "Give it to her, babe."

Hyunjin feels encouraged, he doesn't even need it at all, he's been thrusting into you non-stop, taking you closer and closer to your release. He brushes his hair to the back and adds speed to his thrusting.

You don't know that you've been crying until you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, your moaning and crying, sometimes it's a mix of the two, feeling so overwhelmed that your brain is short-circuit.

"My goodness, oh," your voice is shaking from how hard Hyunjin thrusts into you.

"Don't hold your breath," Felix speaks right into your ear, his teeth faintly nibbling on your ear.

But you keep holding your breath because if you don't, you feel like you're about to completely lose it and combust.

"Please, please," you plead again because it's the only word your brain can compute.

Hyunjin thrusts even faster and harder, your body quakes along to his movements. Felix holds your hand as if he knows you need something to hold on to.

"Oh, oh..." your moans turn into broken cries.

"You're close, mmh?" Hyunjin manages to say as he puts all of him to get you to your release.

Your eyes are screwed shut and more tears rolling down your cheeks, you feel hot all over even though your body is covered with a thin layer of sweat.

"I can't– can't take it anymore," you stutter your words as you choke on air from constantly moaning and crying.

"Just let go, bub, let go," Felix murmurs.

You let out a choked sob and follow his words, letting yourself go even if it means you're going to explode into a million little pieces.

Two, three thrusts later, you hit your climax and everything suddenly turns white. You feel faint but at the same time, you feel this wave of electricity surging through you.

You're completely out of it until a moment later, you open your eyes to find Hyunjin rushing to pull out of you. He then holds his cock in his hand, pumping it as fast as he could until the white of his seed spurts out of him.

"Oh, yeah, baby," he sighs while keeps pumping his cock.

Felix gasps in awe watching Hyunjin make white streaks all over your chest and stomach with his seed, glistening and feeling hot on your skin.

"Oh, look at that!" He looks at Hyunjin and says, "You cum a lot, honey."

Hyunjin stops pumping his cock once he deems he's done releasing his load. He tilts his head to the back and lets out a broken yet satisfied moan.

"Gosh! That was so fucking good," he says, placing a haste kiss on your parted mouth.

Felix uses his finger to take a swab of Hyunjin's cum and have a taste of it, he smiles as if he's just tasted something as sweet as honey. Guessing that you're curious about it too, he takes another swab at it and shoves it into your mouth.

"Isn't Hyunjin taste so sweet?" He asks.

You're too fucked out to respond and Felix notices it too, he lands a sweet kiss on your lips and jaw, then says, "It's okay, we'll take care of you."

You want to stay awake but you can barely keep your eyes open anymore, you're in and out of it for quite some time. You open your eyes and see Felix licking Hyunjin's cum off of you. You close your eyes and when you open them later, you find Hyunjin and Felix, both naked and kissing each other. The next time you open your eyes, you find Felix hovering above you while Hyunjin is thrusting into him from the back.

The last thing you remember is someone putting clothes on you and after that, it's all black.

-

This is embarrassing. You wake up in the guest room wearing Felix's sweater and short pants which means someone must have put those clothes on you and then carried you to the guest room so you can comfortably sleep on the bed.

What's more embarrassing is you'll meet them whether you like it or not because it's their house.

You get off the bed and find your pile of clothes on the chair, even more embarrassing that you have to meet them wearing their clothes.

This why they called it a walk of shame and you're stupid to ever think that it would never happen to you.

Out of the guest room, you head straight to the kitchen because it's easier to face one of them first and Felix is always in the kitchen.

Felix is mysteriously looking glowing and radiant like usual, it's like he didn't drink the same amount of alcohol to you or got in a threesome last night.

He turns around and immediately notices you coming, "Good morning, bub!"

Unlike him, you're aware that you must have looked swollen and terrifying so you cup your face with both hands.

"Morning," you croak.

He turns around again to grab a glass and fills it with orange juice, then serves it to you, "How are you feeling?"

You shyly chuckle and say, "Tired."

"Reasonable," Felix comments. He gasps as if he gets reminded of something, he pulls open the kitchen drawer and takes out something.

"You might want to take this," he says, putting a Morning After pill for you.

It's endearing that he pays more attention to such things than yourself. You rip it open with your fingers and waste no time to take it.

"Thank you," you mutter as you wash it down with orange juice.

"It's not time for Aster to have a sibling yet," Felix jokingly says.

It's actually nice that he treats you like any other normal day, you were really afraid that what happened last night would make things awkward between you and him but turns out, it was all in your head.

But you don't know for sure since you've only met Felix and—

"I heard Aster is getting a sibling?" Hyunjin says from the top of the stairs, all dressed for work and carrying Aster on his shoulders.

"Haha you guys are so funny," you say with dry laughs.

How is it fair that you're the only one looking like shit this morning?

"Airplane!" Aster shouts while patting Hyunjin's head with his tiny hands.

Hyunjin grabs his hands and stretches them out, swaying them left to right like an airplane. Aster is giggling as Hyunjin jumps onto the base of the stairs.

"Time for breakfast, sweet boy," Felix says, ordering Aster to sit in his baby chair.

Hyunjin tilts his head to look at his little one, "Time's up, little buddy."

Aster giggles and plants his mouth on Hyunjin's head to place a kiss, "Oh, thank you, sweetheart."

He then carefully takes him down from his shoulders and sits him in his baby chair.

"Aster's favorites for breakfast," Felix says as he serves his plate in front of him.

"Blueberries," Aster mumbles with drooĺ dribbling down the corner of his mouth.

"And yogurt," Felix adds, putting the small spoon on his plate.

"Thank you, dada," he mumbles with his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed.

"For you, scrambled egg and toast and bacon," Felix says, putting your plate of breakfast.

"Thank you," you mutter.

"And for my breakfast?" Hyunjin asks as he walks over to him and pulls him into a hug.

Felix smiles as he puts his arms around him and affectionately kisses him on the lips. He pulls away but Hyunjin presses another kiss on him, longer and lingering.

Them making you feel like you're third-wheeling again means things are alright and it's a relief to know that what happened last night doesn't change anything about them or worse, ruin what they have. You know you can't forgive yourself if what you did would ruin this very beautiful, precious thing of theirs.

"I can't stay for breakfast," Hyunjin says.

Felix stops him from turning away, he tugs at the collar of his shirt and fixes his tie for him, "Are we still on for a date night?"

"I should take a raincheck on that," Hyunjin answers, tilting his head upward as Felix tightens the knot of his tie.

"That's okay. We can do it next week," Felix says, now flattening the lapels of Hyunjin's suit jacket.

"Invite Bubba on our next date night," Hyunjin suggests a wild idea, flashing his sly smirk at you.

"And we'd get a sibling for Aster," he jokingly adds.

You roll your eyes at him and fill your mouth with food.

Once he's done, Felix lets him go and hands him his cup of coffee, "well, I want a baby girl," he also piles in on the joke.

"We can arrange that," Hyunjin says, smirking as he sips his coffee.

Can't say you agree to get Aster a sibling but you feel good knowing that your presence doesn't feel like a threat to them, if anything, they make you feel like you're a part of them.

"I have to go," Hyunjin says, taking another sip of his coffee before putting it down on the kitchen counter. He runs to get his briefcase and walks back to the kitchen to kiss his husband.

"Have a great day at work," Felix says after placing a peck on Hyunjin's lips.

Hyunjin sweetly kisses him on the cheek and whispers, "Love you."

Felix hugs him with such love and says back, "I love you."

Oh, they're disgustingly in love with each other, you can't decide if you get the urge to vomit from watching them or you're merely filled with so much jealousy.

Hyunjin walks up to Aster and plants a long kiss on the top of his head, "Daddy has to go to work, okay?"

Aster reaches for him and adorably places a kiss on Hyunjin's cheek, "Buhbye," he says while waving his hand at him.

"Be good, my sweet angel," he says for the last time with an endearing pat on the head.

As for you, he places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes it, "Have a great day, bub," he says.

"You too, Mr. Hwang," you shorty respond while chewing your food.

"It's Hyunjin," he says with a fed-up tone.

"You too, it's Hyunjin," you say with a sly grin.

Hyunjin ignores you and takes another look at Felix, staring at him with wistful eyes as if he's reluctant to go to work, and then waves bye at him.

A moment after Hyunjin leaves, Felix notices that Hyunjin left his car keys on the kitchen island.

"Honey, you're forgetting something," Felix shouts as Hyunjin hasn't gone out of the house.

You can hear his rushed footsteps and he returns to the kitchen, unexpectedly kissing Felix on the cheek.

"I'm going now," he says with a smile, thinking that the thing he forgot is kissing him bye.

"Honey!" Felix groans while laughing and you also burst out laughing from witnessing it.

"What?" Hyunjin asks in utter confusion.

Felix lifts the car keys and shows it to him, "You forgot your car keys."

"Oh?" He gasps with his mouth forming a perfect O shape, he innocently takes the keys out of Felix's hand and uses it as an excuse to kiss him again.

It's hard to not get jealous of them because you see, if there's one thing that makes you believe in love, it's them.

-

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[otakubimbo]

Sick Days

Sylus x MC!Reader

Sylus couldn't get in contact with you and he knew that being a hunter was a dangerous job but what you had wasn't an injury to your body per say. It was an injury to your immune system. AKA Sylus taking care of you when you're very very sick

OB: Hi I started writing this while i had covid back in august and I'm working on clearing out all of my old fic drafts so bear with me on any other updates

masterlist

A groan escapes your lips as you forcefully peel your eyes open. Your throat hurts, your head hurts, your body hurts, everything hurts. It took you a bit to register that the banging wasn’t in your head, but it was at your front door. Every cell in your body screaming at you to stay in your bed, but the knocking just wouldn’t stop.

As you sit up out of bed, your head immediately spins from the sudden motion.

“Fuck,” you attempt to steady yourself before fully getting out of bed, but it was hard. You tried to take a deep breath but that just caused you to have a coughing fit. The burn in your throat and chest is almost unbearable. The toll of whatever sickness you had had a harsher effect on your body than you thought. Initially, you assumed you could have just slept off whatever it was but now you were so sure.

Slowly, you struggle your way to the front door, blanket securely wrapped around you since you were freezing. Eventually, you get your door open as you glare at a well-dressed chest, your eyes racking up to see the owner of said chest. It was, of course, Sylus.

“Well, hello there, kitten. Nice to finally see you.” He smirks down at you for just a moment before noticing the state you were in, gently pushing you back to enter your space, closing the door behind him.

“What are you doing here Sylus?” You ask, your voice is scratchy and hoarse.  Sylus brow creases as he gives you a once over.

“Mephesto claims you haven’t left your house in two days, and you haven’t been answering my messages or phone calls.” He says as he raises a hand to your forehead to gauge your temperature. You swat his hand away as you realize what he was saying. Two days? You haven’t left for two days??? You were just at work yesterday when you got sent home, right? Holding your hand out, you request him to hand you his phone which he does with no complaint. Ignoring the picture of the two of you as his lock screen and notice that in fact it had been two entire days since you had been home. You shove his phone back into his hand and shuffle back to your room to look for your phone. There it sat on your nightstand, still on the charger, opening it up to see several messages and missed calls from Sylus of course but some from Luke and Kieran, a few from Jenna and Tara telling you to get well soon, along with a few from Rafayel, Xavier, and Zayne.

“I-“ you stutter as you sit down on your bed, “ I guess I’ve been in and out of sleep this whole time.” You say with a frown, attempting to rub the pain out of your head. As you go through the numerous texts, a coughing fit erupts making Sylus run over to rub your back. He tries to soothe you as your fit dies, rubbing your back gently as you calm down, taking the blanket from around you, pushing you to lay down and tucking you in. You hadn’t even realized that you were truly TUCKED in until Sylus is running a hand over your cheek and you can’t move.

“Let me out Sylus” You struggle from how tightly he tucked you in, but you didn’t have any real strength in you to get out.

“No can do, kitten. You’re sick and I’ll just have to take care of you.” He puts his hand on your forehead to truly check your temperature. You were burning up and it took everything in Sylus to keep a neutral face, he was worried about you. He had originally thought, you had just buried yourself in work again but seeing you in this state does something to his heart that he doesn’t like. You were such a strong woman and now where you were, weak and frail and not from any wanderer just from what was probably the common cold.  

“I’ll be fine, I can take care of myself.” You refute, struggling yet again but not putting up much of a fight. Theres a slight twitch in Sylus expression as he watches you.

“Please” Sylus voice comes out just above a whisper and you stop moving. It caught you off guard and you stopped fighting. “Thank you, so stubborn” he kisses the top of your head as you scoff.

You hadn’t even realized that you were falling asleep until you were being woken up by Sylus gently.

“What’s going on” you look around confused as you attempt to sit up, Sylus grabs your arm helping you as a rag falls off the top of your head.

“You have to eat something Kitten.” Sylus states as he grabs a bowl of some type of soup putting the spoon up to your mouth. You take a sip of it without complaint, it soothes but hurts your throat at the same time causing a groan to come out of your mouth. Sylus inhales a deep breath, gripping the spoon harder. You weren’t getting better, if anything it seemed like you were getting worse. Your skin was getting pale, your temperature wasn’t going down, and all you were doing was sleeping and while you were sleeping you were shaking. You were in cold sweat; he had to change the rag on your head almost every thirty minutes.

“It hurts, Sy” You grimace after you try to swallow another spoon full of soap. Your voice was so weak, you looked so frail, it was literally breaking his heart to see you like this.

Sylus puts down the bowl, “Just lay down sweetie.” He helps you get back under the covers and before he can even get back with another towel for your head, you’re asleep.

Now Sylus was a prideful man for sure, but for you, for you he would do anything, for you he would put aside his pride. He knew he couldn’t just call any sort of doctor because of the aether core in your heart, so he knew he had to call your doctor, Doctor Zayne. But oh, did he hate Dr.Zayne, YOUR Dr.Zayne. Sylus just knew that man was in love with you, your childhood friend who spent his life becoming a heart surgeon and then being your personal doctor. Tsk, he’s heard of the whole childhood friends to lover’s trope, he wasn’t a dumb man. He wasn’t dumb, but he was desperate, and he needed you to get better. It had already been a full day since he had been in your place, and you just kept getting worse. Begrudgingly he picked up your phone and did what he had to do.  

You don’t remember much in your sick haze. It was hard to even distinguish what was really going on or what was part of your fever dreams. You lucidly remember Sylus waking you up to give you soup and take medicine. You think you remember Zayne coming in which would make sense, he is your doctor, but you also remember Xavier? Maybe you weren’t particularly sure, it wouldn’t really make sense for him to be there, but you were sure you remembered seeing him.

Eventually, you gain a full sense of consciousness. Surprisingly, your body doesn’t ache like it has been and there isn’t an immense pressure in your head. You attempt to sit up when you notice a hand holding onto your arm, and attached to the hand was Sylus. A soft smile spreads on your face as you see him sitting most likely uncomfortably in a chair next to your bed. His head was laid beside you and his hand grasping onto your arm. You had no clue had long he had been there or how long he had been taking care of you. The pill bottles, half eaten soup and cups of water you don’t remember drinking or taking had to have come from somewhere and it wasn’t you.

“Ah, I see the kitten has finally stirred from her hibernation.” Sylus exhausted face meets your curious eyes.

“Yeah, I’m feeling much better.”  You say with a yawn and a stretch. The gaze he is giving you makes you feel small, causing you to turn away from him, “thank you”

His hand reaches out to grab your chin gently, “You had me worried, sweetie. You had a respiratory infection and pneumonia. What would have happened to you if I wouldn’t have come?” His jaw is set tight and you don’t think you would ever see the feared Onychinus leader looking scared. He was scared, scared he was going to lose you…...again.

“…… I’m sorry but you took care of me and I’m fine now. Yeah?” You say turning your head out of his hands in more embarrassment as you busy yourself with straightening out your night stand. As you pick up the bottle of pills, you notice you see that Zayne prescribed these. You glance between the bottle and then at Sylus.

He scoffs before taking the bottle from your hand, putting it back down “Well of course I had to reach out to your doctor. Your fever wouldn’t go down.”

“But you hate Zayne?”  You questioned as you tilt your head in a way that was way too cute for Sylus.

“I do not hate the doctor. I just don’t like how friendly he is with you on the occasion.” He scoffs at the giggle you let out, “And I’m aware that you are childhood friends, but the man should have some boundaries”

That makes you laugh even harder, not THE Sylus Quin talking about boundaries. He wouldn’t know a boundary if it shot him in the heart. It was sweet, he was being so sweet.

“Yeah, I thought seeing him was just a fever dream I was having actually. Funny enough, I thought I also saw my friend Xavier here.”

The noise that leaves Sylus had you holding back the biggest laugh that you could possibly muster. So in fact you had not imagine Xavier, he had actually been there and surprisingly Sylus let him in.

“Another one of your ‘friends’ who needs to work on their boundaries. He came over in the middle of the night questioning about your whereabouts after sending you NUMEROUS texts and phone calls. He was insistent on seeing you or he would have gotten your little hunter association involved and I didn’t think you would want that.” He groans with this cute pout on his face. “It seems you have a lot of these type of ‘friends’ who lack any type of boundaries. You should work on that sweetie.”

You reach out to grab his face making him look at you, his gaze softened when he saw your face “Thank you for taking care of me, Sy.”

He grabs your hand a places a small kiss upon the back of it, “Of course Kitten”

[brokenbarnes]

Steady Mind

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Separate from Haunted Eyes, after being taken by Hydra, Bucky identifies you as his handler. You teach him that not all handlers inflict pain, bringing him back to the present.

Warnings: mentions of canon level violence

It had been one month, three days and twelve hours since they took Bucky.

A routine mission that turned out to be not so routine. An abandoned HYDRA base awakened like a sleeping giant, putting a bullet in your leg, dragging Bucky away after he had been knocked unconscious by two large goons. You screamed for him, they left you to bleed out in pool of your own blood.

You had to return to the compound without your partner in crime, sobbing until they put you under for surgery. The last thing you remember was Steve holding your arms down as they slid the needle in your arm, his eyes sad as you’ve ever seen them.

Despite the healing hole in your leg, you insisted on sitting in on every meeting about Bucky’s whereabouts, limping onto the Quinjet to accompany the team to scout out any possible locations.

You had barely slept in a month, lying awake in the bed you shared with the missing person. Every time you looked in the mirror, you could see the heartbreak and exhaustion clinging to you like a wet blanket. Shadows under your eyes that looked like bruises, shoulders slumped, your mind fuzzy; spinning a million different directions.

This time Steve didn’t protest as you limped onto the jet, it’s destination a newly discovered hidden HYDRA base. You slumped in the copilot seat, you were past getting your hopes up. At this point, it was just to check it off the list.

Steve steered the jet south, landing in the dense forest, somewhere in the Andes Mountains of South America. You saw on the computer screen, a hidden base carved into the steep mountain side.

The team left the Quinjet, armed with whatever they could think of. There was so much uncertainty, nobody knew what to expect.

You were left behind in the jet, sitting down in front of multiple monitors. Part of your agreement was staying behind was that you could be their eyes and ears on the ground. Your leg was not quite up to speed yet and you didn’t want to hold the team back. You got to work accessing any local cameras, finding those inside and outside the base.

The team worked silently, efficiently. You listened to them over the comms, there were no jokes, no laughing, only efficient communication. This was Bucky, it was different.

You monitored cameras as the team cleared the base, making sure there weren’t any surprises like last time. Surprises get people killed. This must have been an old base, because there were very few cameras inside. You had one of Tony’s robots take a scan of the building, at least you could monitor where the team was inside. An hour went by before Steve addressed you and the tone of his voice gave you chills.

“Y/N.”

“Go ahead, Steve,” you responded, legs going numb.

“We need you.”

You stood up abruptly, your nearly healed stitches screaming in protest. You grabbed your utility belt, clipping it around your waist with your weapons. With your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you hit the button that opened the ramp of the Quinjet.

It was a moderate hike to the base entrance, but you don’t remember much of it. Ignoring the pain in your leg, you stumbled over the rocky cliffs, damp soil catching on the back of your tactical pants as you ran.

Steve met you at the entrance of the base, his face pale and shaken. The intense sun doing little for his ashen complexion.

“Steve! Is he in there?” You gasped for air, slowing to a stop in front of him. “Is he alive?”

He dipped his head, nodding slowly. With his thumbs hooked in his belt loops and his shoulders hunched, he looked as small as he once had.

“What are we waiting for?” You went to push past him, into the entrance of the labyrinth like Theseus but without Ariadne’s string. “Let’s go get him out of there!”

“Y/N, wait,” his voice was hollow, grabbing you by the arm.

“What?”

He took a deep shuddering breath, looking you in the eye. “It’s not our Bucky.”

Realization settled in your chest, the only reason they would want him would be to activate him.

“I want to see him,” your voice was low.

“He’s dangerous.”

“He’s Bucky,” you insisted. “Take me to him.”

Steve became your string, leading you through the dark maze that was the HYDRA compound. The main hallway led you past a variety of rooms, some looked like a war room, some looked like an interrogation center, other’s a sterile doctor’s office.

His gait slowed in front of a heavily locked door, it’s appearance similar to a bank vault. Your stomach twisted.

“He’s in there?” You whispered, disgust lacing your tone.

Steve nodded, “it’s for everyone’s safety.”

“Let me in there,” you reached for the lock.

“Y/N, he could hurt you,” he grabbed your arm but you shook him off.

“I need to see that he’s alive!” Your voice turned raspy, ragged with the thought of being so close to him. “Please, Steve.

His resolve crumbled, he reached for the lock to the cell door. As the door opened, Steve moved in front of you, blocking your view into the cell. You weaved around him, attempting to catch a glimpse of your soldier.

When you did, your stomach dropped.

He stood in the far corner of the cement cell, his posture defensive, eyes empty. You breath caught in your throat, he had fading bruises around his eyes, blood dried down his chin and throat.

“Bucky,” you darted around the captain before he could stop you.

The Asset’s eyes flickered to you, then over to Steve quickly. As you approached, the muscles in his face tightened, as if he was anticipating a beating.

“Bucky,” you whispered, slowing your approach. “Are you hurt, Honey?”

He eyed you apprehensively, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. You knew that this was not the man you last saw, defending you until the cattle prods had knocked him unconscious.

“Soldat?” You willed your voice to carry a different tone.

He nodded curtly, “handler.”

It felt as if all the air had been punched from your lungs, your boyfriend has just uttered the term that haunts his nightmares. The multiple people over the decades he was under the thumb of Hydra that have caused him inexcusable pain.

Now, he’s identified you as his handler. Eying Steve suspiciously, as if he wasn’t sure if he could trust him or not.

You tried against in English, Russian vocabulary lacking considerably. “Yes, I am your handler. And I am going to call you Bucky.”

He tilted his head at you, confused, but nodding eventually to agree with you. You were unsure about your role as his handler, making it up as you go.

“Bucky, are you hurt?” You tried again; your voice devoid of its usual warmth.

He shook his head, eyes focusing on the wall over your left shoulder. When you turned your head to follow his eye sight, you could see a drying brown stain, rolling down the wall and finishing in splatters on the floor.

You looked at Steve, who was trying hard to keep it together. “Cap, let’s get him outside. He could use some fresh air.”

Steve nodded, turning stiffly towards the door and leading you back into the maze. Bucky followed, a few paces behind. You let him follow the two of you, not wanting him to feel as if he was being chased.

He followed like an obedient servant, only a few paces behind you, foot steps completely silent. You had to turn your head over your shoulder to make sure he was still behind you.

Outside in the intense sunlight, Bucky was pale as a ghost. He was watching you with careful eyes, awaiting his next orders.

“Take a seat, Bucky,” you pointed to a downed Polylepis tree. The curled, twisted trunk, half rotted from age and weather.

Apprehension crossed Bucky’s face, but he sat. To you that was evidence your Bucky was still under there, the Winter Soldier had little emotion on his face.

“Do you know who I am?” You asked, squatting down in front of him.

His hands shook, clasped together in his lap. “You are my handler.”

Another stab to the heart, you wiped your face of any devastating emotion and nodded. “Status report for your handler. Are you injured?”

The gears were turning in his mind, his beautiful blue eyes flickered from side to side. He couldn’t come up with an answer.

“That’s alright,” you said gently. “We’ll get you checked out by medical when we get home.”

“Home?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, resisting the urge to reach out and sooth your hand over his arm. “I want you to understand something.”

He nodded obediently.

“When you are with me, nobody will hurt you,” you spoke softly, gesturing back to Steve. “You have to trust me.”

He hesitated, but nodded. “Yes, Handler.”

“Call me, Y/N.”

“Y/N.”

Bucky seemed better under the sunlight, instead of the harsh, florescent lights of the cell he abandoned in. Despite the blood and the bruises, he had some color back in his cheeks but the same hollow look in his eyes.

Back on the Quinjet, he flinched as the others moved around, getting ready to return home. Usually, after a successful mission there was never a silent moment in the jet. It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

You told Bucky to sit on the bench seat as you fetched a first aid kit. He’s eyes flitted around to everyone nervous without you there, assessing them and diagnosing who would be the biggest threat.

The jet lifted off the rocky alpine surface as you returned to Bucky. You clocked the anxiety crawling into his eyes and called his name gently.

“Remember what I said? You’re safe with me, nobody will hurt you.”

He nodded, although you knew this Bucky would find that extremely hard to believe. He flinched as Steve dropped into a seat beside him, running a hand over his tired face.

You flipped open the latch of the first aid kit, trying to steady your mind. “Alright soldier, tell me what you need.”

“The asset is not hurt,” he spoke, almost robotically.

“Hm,” you hummed, tearing open an alcohol pad and turning toward him. “Let me clean you up, then.”

As you reached toward him, you watched him fight a knee-jerk reaction. Every muscle in his body stiffened, expecting a blow. You moved slowly, trying to give his body enough time to catch up with his mind.

Your hand smoothed along his cheek, getting him to turn his head toward you. The alcohol pad probably stung as you wiped around his mouth, down his chin, but Bucky showed no reaction. His piercing blue eyes focused intently on your face as you worked.

Wiping away the blood revealed no open wounds, what was there had probably long healed over with the serum pumping through his veins. Your hand cupped his cheek, the other wiped down his neck and swooping around his hairline.

As the rest of the team started to drop off, laying down across the benches for a much needed nap, curling up in the copilots chair with the jet on autopilot; silence had settled over everything like a coat of dust. Steve tipped his head back and shut his eyes, although you weren’t sure if he was asleep or not.

You took your time, taking his hand into yours and wiping away any evidence of the cruelty he faced. You noted his knuckles were covered in fading bruises, defensive wounds. It made you smile a little bit to know he didn’t go quietly.

Bucky was confused, he had told you many times that he was not injured, he did not need care. And this was definitely not the handlers job.

“Why?” He asked quietly, just heard over Sam’s snoring across the aisle.

“Why, what?” You replied, without looking up from where you were attempting to get grime off his knuckles.

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was fragile, almost scared to use it in fear of what might come next.

You looked up into his eyes, stilling your restless hands. Bucky had a hard time reading the emotion on your face, sadness, guilt, and something else that wasn’t familiar to him. Something warm, something kind.

“I don’t want you sitting in your own blood,” you spoke carefully. “It’ll make it easier for the medics to check you over.”

“I don’t… I don’t want…” his words died off, almost regretting starting to speak.

Your Bucky was also hesitant with doctors, his checkered past involved plenty of awful experiences with medical staff. 70 years of poking and prodding, little anesthesia and dubious consent.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” your thumb was sweeping gently over the inside of his wrist. “But I want to make sure you’re alright, even if you feel fine. You’ve been gone from us for a long time.”

He tilted his head in confusion, “how long have I been gone?”

“About a month,” you could feel how tired you were with that statement. It had been too long and now he was finally here, maybe not all in one piece but he was safe.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing in a way that made you sit up straighter. “You… You were hurt.”

“Yes, Bucky.”

“And I… And I…” he shook his head, his hand clenched in yours. “My head-“

“Don’t worry about it, Honey,” you could see the headache forming behind his eyes as he struggled to recall memories. “Why don’t you try and sleep?”

The stubborn man still somewhere inside him shook his head. But he let you tip your head down onto his shoulder and close your eyes for the duration of the flight.

When the Quinjet touched down at the compound, Bucky followed you off the jet and into the building. He refused to go to the infirmary, but agreed to follow you up to the residential floor to shower.

The bedroom you shared with Bucky was a safe haven, soft lighting, comfortable bed, books covering both nightstands; dogeared and annotated by the both of you. So many nights spend together in comfortable silence, sometimes reading aloud a line for the other to hear.

“Recognize this place?” You asked, setting down your duffel bag down beside the dresser. Unclipping your utility belt, setting it on top of the dresser where you usually left it.

You watched as Bucky turned in a slow circle, taking in each and every detail he laid his eyes on.

“Maybe,” his lips moved.

He seemed overwhelmed, frustrated with the unfamiliarity of the bedroom, probably the aches and pains that covered his body. You helped him make a decision.

“Bucky, why don’t you take a shower,” you suggested, heading toward the closet for a clean set of clothes. “I’ll get you something comfortable to wear.”

Not wanting to be away from him, you grabbed a bundle of clothes, tucked it under your arm with a clean towel and returned to lead him to the bathroom.

After setting the clothes and towels on the counter, you reached inside the shower and turned it to a comfortable temperature. Bucky watched you carefully, swaying slightly on his feet. You wondered when was the last time he slept.

“Come feel, does this temperature work for you?” You asked over the noise of the shower, gesturing him closer.

Bucky shuffled forward, sticking his flesh hand under the spray and nodding to approve the temperature.

“I’ll be just outside-“

“No!” Burst from his mouth before he could stop it. “Could you please… Could you please stay?”

“Of course,” your eyes stung with unshed tears. “I’ll stay.”

You turned around while he undressed to give him some much needed privacy. He undressed efficiently, leaving his clothes in a neat pile on the bathmat. The glass door opened and shut before you turned around.

Sitting cross legged on the counter, you thought about how many times you had done this for your Bucky. Showering together was intimate enough, but sharing the space, just knowing you were on the other side of the door was enough.

You let yourself relax for a moment as he showered, exhaustion settling into your aching bones and the healing pain returned to your leg. All you wanted was to shower off the nervous sweat you accumulated from the last 24 hours, pull on your favorite pajamas and curl up next to your Bucky in bed.

Bucky opened the glass door, you handed him a towel and he dried off quickly. He seemed to be relaxing a little now, in his own clothes and no longer smelling like he hadn’t showered in a week.

“This is what you do usually after you shower,” you reached for his hair brush, pressing it into his hands. You laid out his tooth brush, beard trimmer, deodorant and anything else you could think of.

It was probably muscle memory at this point, he brushed the tangles from his hair, brushed his teeth with his left hand and trimmed his unruly scruff short. Using his left hand told you there were still remnants of the Winter Soldier lingering around in his consciousness.

While he cleaned up, you took a quick shower and scrubbed the day’s worries from your body. Per your request, Bucky brought you a fresh towel and a pair of pajamas. His cheeks were pink as you got dressed, rubbing a towel through your hair.

“Your leg,” he murmured, eyes straying to the pink, raised scar on your leg.

“Mhm,” you nodded, hanging both towels up to dry. “I’m okay.”

Guilt crossed his features, you reached out and held out your hand, palm up. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Bucky fit his warm hand into yours, letting you lead him back out into the main room. He watched as you flipped open the covers, turning on the lamp beside the bed.

His mind felt fuzzy, watching you pad around the room, hair wet and in soft clothes. A headache like a lightning strike burst behind his eyes, making him press his hands to the bridge of his nose.

“My… my head.”

“I know, Sweetheart,” your voice was soft. Sweetheart, was that him? “Come to bed.”

He laid his aching body on the soft mattress, letting his handler – no, his love, cover him up with heavy blankets. His head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, but somehow it didn’t matter because he was laying next to you.

He closed his heavy eyes, feeling his body relax for the time in a month. Next to you, sleep came easy.

The next morning, Bucky blinked slowly as the bedroom came into focus. The bedsheets were tangled around your legs, twisted up after a good night’s sleep. A heavy weight on his chest kept him anchored to the present, not reliving the past month, you were asleep on his chest.

He reached out and stroked your hair, enjoying the feeling of the silky tendrils running through his fingers. You stirred your sleep, pressing your face into his soft sleep shirt. You rubbed the fabric against your nose as you woke up, blinking up at him in the soft light.

“Heya Doll,” he murmured.

Your lips curled up in a smile, sliding your hand up the center of his chest. “Bucky,” you breathed.

He pressed his lips together in a way you knew meant he was struggling. “I’m sorry you had to see me as him.”

You sat up, turning around to face him. There were still shadows under your eyes in a way that made his stomach sick. He slid his heel up the mattress, letting you lean against his knee under the covers.

“What do you remember?” You asked.

“I remember thinking you were my handler,” he mumbled.

You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He enjoyed the way your hand felt in his, nothing had ever felt more right.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” he murmured. He had been working on this habit of separating himself from the Winter Soldier, it helped to refer to him like he was completing separate from his body.

“Of course, Honey,” you nodded.

“Nobody has ever taken care of him before,” he whispered, eyes turning wistful. “You are the nicest handler I’ve ever had.”

You tried to smile, lifting the corner of your mouth up but it fell short. He tugged you forward, until you were laying on top of him. He loved the feeling of your weight holding him down, keeping him in the present.

“I’ll always be here for you,” you whispered, pressing your face into his neck. He shivered at the feeling of your breath on his skin. “No matter who you are, no matter what happens.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears sting in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

If he had to choose anyone to be his handler, he would pick you in a heartbeat. Aside from Steve, you were the only one to never doubt him, to show him unconditional love in a way he hadn’t felt since the 40’s.

“No matter what,” he whispered quietly, letting his eyes close once more.

[charlesslut16]

-fainting hearts-

summary : you have syncope(fainting) and oscar is always there to help you...

PAIRINGS : oscar piastri x fem!reader

WARNINGS : involves fainting and health-related issues

note : I just want to say, that I myself do not have syncope. I was asked to write it in an ask and i tried my best. I hope that you are not offended if I wrote something wrong, i do not have it or know much about it but i still hope that you will enjoy it!

masterlist 

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One time you were at the paddock, a rush of people moving around you as the teams set up for the weekend. The sun was bright, and the air was thick with anticipation. 

Oscar had just finished an interview, and you were waiting by the wall near the garage, trying to stay out of the way. It was meant to be a simple moment, just a brief break before the day took off in full swing.

You’d been feeling a little off all morning, but you brushed it off. The heat, the excitement of the race weekend, the crowd, it all mixed together and made your head spin. 

You gripped the railing, trying to focus on the surrounding noise, the buzz of activity, but it felt like everything was closing in. Your breath became shallow, and your vision began to blur. Before you could take another step, your legs gave out, and you crumpled.

Oscar was there in an instant. One moment, you were falling, and the next, his arms were around you, holding you up effortlessly. He whispered your name softly as you tried to blink away the blackness threatening to take over.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he said, his voice firm but full of concern. His hand was already on your wrist, checking your pulse as you regained consciousness. “Just breathe for me. Slowly.”

You could feel his presence beside you, steady, reassuring. The world around you felt far away, but his hands on your arms, his steady voice, brought you back.

"I’m fine, I just…" you whispered, trying to sit up.

Oscar didn’t let go of you. He stayed close, eyes scanning you for any sign of further distress. He helped you sit against the wall, never leaving your side. “Don’t push yourself. Take it slow,” he said, gently rubbing your back.

You could see the worry in his eyes, the way his brow furrowed with concern, but he didn’t show it too much. He was always so calm, as if he was more focused on keeping you safe than the surrounding chaos.

That day, he didn’t leave your side. Even as practice sessions began, and the team’s hustle picked up, he stayed close, keeping an eye on you. You couldn’t help but smile at how he took care of you, even when everything around him demanded his attention.

The next time it happened, you were in the gym, stretching between sets. Oscar had been working hard, his focus intense as usual, but he always found time to check on you, to make sure you were doing okay. 

That day, though, the dizziness came on faster. You tried to ignore it, trying to finish your last set, but before you could even finish a rep, everything started to tilt. Your vision narrowed, and your legs felt like jelly beneath you.

Oscar was faster than you anticipated. One second, you were standing, and the next, his arms were around your waist, guiding you to a nearby bench before you could fall.

“Not again,” he said quietly, his hand steady on your back as he gently helped you sit.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, still a little dazed, but the dizziness was strong. You could feel the familiar wave of panic rising, the cold sweat on your skin, but Oscar was there, right beside you, a steady presence amidst the chaos of your body betraying you.

"Just breathe," he said, his voice calm, soft. He crouched in front of you, holding your hands as you closed your eyes to steady your breathing. “We’ve been through this, haven’t we? Just focus on me.”

And somehow, with him there, his quiet voice, his hands on yours, it helped. The dizziness ebbed away, your heart rate slowly returning to normal as you focused on the steady rhythm of his breathing. Oscar didn’t rush you. He didn’t expect you to snap back to normal in an instant. He just stayed with you, letting you breathe, letting the moment pass.

“Better?” he asked after a while, his voice still low and soft.

You opened your eyes, and there he was, right in front of you, always there. “Yeah, much better.”

Oscar didn’t stand up. Instead, he kept his hand on yours, never leaving your side as you caught your breath. His patience was infinite, his concern always unspoken but deeply felt. 

It was the kind of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed until you had it, until he was there with you through every moment, no matter how small or how big.

It happened again, this time on race weekend. The crowd was thick, the noise overwhelming as everyone rushed around the paddock. You were standing near one of the pit walls, watching the teams set up, your hand resting on the edge as you tried to steady yourself. 

But then, just like the other times, you could feel it coming on. That tightness in your chest. The spinning. The nausea creeping in from the corners of your vision.

Your legs wavered, and you didn’t even have time to react before you were stumbling. Oscar was right there, his hand catching you, pulling you into him before you could collapse completely.

“Not now,” you whispered, trying to fight it, but the dizziness was too strong.

“I’ve got you,” Oscar said, his voice so steady, so sure. He was already helping you sit down, guiding you to the cool shade of a nearby wall. He knelt down in front of you, his eyes scanning you for any signs of distress as he gently cupped your face with his hands.

“Just breathe with me, okay?” he murmured, his thumbs gently tracing your cheek.

You nodded, closing your eyes as you focused on the steady rhythm of his voice, the comforting pressure of his hands. Everything else faded—the noise, the heat, the buzzing of the paddock—until it was just him.

When your breathing slowed, and the dizziness passed, you opened your eyes to find him still there, watching you with quiet care. His hand never left yours, never wavered.

“You always know what to do,” you whispered, your voice a little shaky.

“Of course I do,” he said softly, a faint smile on his lips. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You didn’t know how you could have ever gotten through these moments without him. Through every fainting spell, through every dizzying episode, Oscar was there,quiet, steady, and always, always with you.

It wasn’t just his presence that made it easier; it was the way he never hesitated, never let you feel like a burden. He was your constant, your rock, even when you couldn’t keep your balance.

As the rest of the race weekend unfolded, the world around you swirled with excitement and anticipation. But in those moments when it all became too much, you knew you had him by your side, holding on, always ready to help you back on your feet.

[dazzlingjaeyun]

ʙᴀɴᴅᴀɪᴅꜱ – ꜱɪᴍ ᴊᴀᴇʏᴜɴ

boxer!jake x nurse fem!reader

୨୧ genre: exes to ??, mostly angst, a little fluff | words: 5.3k | cw: mentions of bruises, blood, heavy injuries and surgery, probably poor medical references (pls bear with me) ୨୧

"can we get a nurse to the ER immediately, please?" you heard the charge nurse's firm demand through your communication device. you exchanged a quick glance with your colleague, and with a slight nod, she indicated she could handle the task alone. without hesitation, you used your pager to notify the ER that you were on your way, then dashed through the hallway and down the stairs to reach the emergency department.

"sorry, we're completely short-staffed," the charge nurse murmured in apology, ushering you toward a room. "male patient, twenties, just some bad bruises – likely needs stitches. we just got a family from a car crash, and we can’t tend to him right now."

with that, she left you at the door and hurried down the hall toward another room.

you pushed open the door, heading straight to the sanitizer dispenser and rubbed it into your hands. then, you pulled on a pair of gloves from the box beside it and added another layer of sanitizer.

"hello, my name is–"

the words caught in your throat as you turned around. the sharp scent of sanitizer seemed to sting your nose, burning your airways and stealing the breath from your lungs.

you froze, staring straight into a pair of familiar brown eyes – eyes you had learned to both love and hate. once filled with warmth, they now held an icy coldness, mixed with a flicker of surprise at the sight of you. just like you, he was sure you'd never meet again.

"y/n," he finished your sentence.

your throat tightened as your name rolled off his lips. you gulped down the lump in your throat as if you could swallow the whirlwind of feelings right down with it. you shook your head slightly, trying your best to focus on the situation at hand and staying professional.

"yes. i'll be your nurse today," you finished the rehearsed introduction you'd used at least a thousand of times during your two years at the hospital.

with another shaky breath, you slowly stepped closer to where he was sitting, waiting for any type of response from him but there was none.

"can you take off your hood, please?" you asked in the most professional tone you could muster. you nodded slightly when he pulled down his hood and leaned a little closer to examine his face. a pang of hurt rushed through you seeing him in the exact state you'd found him in many times before.

you were sitting on the sofa in the tiny apartment you shared with jake, your knees bent and pulled to your body as if that state could hold together the feelings that dared to overflow. you checked your phone again and again. nothing. as your head started to spin, wondering if tonight would be the night that he wouldn't come home, the sudden creak of the front door finally pulled you out of your daze, and you immediately shot to your feet, rushing toward the door. jake stumbled inside, his gaze on the floor and his hood hiding what you expected to be another field of bruises. "jake..." you whispered, your voice trailing off in a lack of things to say. you carefully took his shaking hand in yours and guided him to the bathroom, where you gently pressed down on his shoulders to make him sit on the edge of the bathtub. "i'm fine," he tried to reassure you the way he always did when he looked anything but fine. you stayed silent as you started cleaning up his bruises. the only sound breaking the silence was jake's occassional hiss when he clenched his fists as the antiseptical burned on his wounded skin. "you don't have to–", the words stuck in his throat with another sharp intake of breath as you cleaned up his bleeding lips with a cotton swap. "i can take care of it," he mumbled, and although he avoided your eyes, you could see a hint of regret flashing through his. "if you took care of yourself, you wouldn't keep coming home like this in the first place," you replied, your voice laced with a mixture of anger and frustration. you threw away the tissues and cotton swabs he'd bled through and faced him again to apply ointment to his bruises and patch them up if necessary. "what if one day you come home and i can't fix it, jake?" you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper. for a second, you stopped your movements, just standing in between his legs and looking at his battered face. "what if one day you don't even come ho–" "shh," his whisper interrupted you, "that won't happen, baby." jake raised his hands and brought them to your hips, pulling you a little closer to him. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and just held him close until your thoughts quieted down. for tonight, he was safe, you thought. you let go of him and took a step back, gently running your hand through his silky hair and examining his face one last time. then, you reached for the chapstick that you kept on the sink, gently applied it to the ripped skin on his lips, and softly brushed your lips against his. after you pulled away from his lips, you cupped his chin between your thumb and index finger and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on each of his bruises. "you need to stop this, jake," you whispered later when the two of you had gone to bed and he was holding you tightly although every muscle in his body hurt. he couldn't not have you close to him.

"you won't ask what happened?" he suddenly spoke up, breaking your thoughts and pulling you back to reality.

for a second, you tensed again. then, you sighed almost inaudibly, lingering by his face for another second before taking a sudden step backwards and turned around to gather all the things you'd need to treat him. you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze, although you had your back to him.

you turned back around, your face as nonchalant as you could manage as you shook your head.

"i don't care what happened," you replied shortly.

his lips twitched into something resembling a smirk, though it was faint and visibly pained him. “still bossy,” he said under his breath.

you clenched your jaw at his remark, but sat down in front of him and ran your hand through his hair in the gentlest way possible to get his bangs out of his face.

"and you're still reckless. now, hold still," you ordered.

for a while, the room was silent except for the occasional sharp intake of breath as you cleaned his cuts. you tried to focus on the task, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling of his heavy gaze on you.

"this one needs stitches," you said, tapping carefully on the skin next to one particularly deep bruise on his cheek, "it might hurt a litte."

as you began stitching the bruise, his hand moved slowly, almost tentatively, to brush against your wrist. the touch was light, but it still sent a shiver through you. you glanced up sharply, but before you could say anything, he caught your hand.

“jaeyun,” you said, a warning tone in your voice, but he didn’t let go. instead, he brushed his thumb across your knuckles. then, in a gesture so achingly familiar it nearly shattered the walls you’d built around yourself, he pressed a gentle kiss there.

your breath hitched. “what do you think you're doing?” you asked, your voice so barely audible that you hated how vulnerable you sounded.

his eyes met yours, and for the first time since you'd stepped into the room, they softened just a little. “trying to remember what it felt like,” he said, his voice low and hoarse, “to have someone who cares.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. you pulled your hand back, your heart racing, but despite everything, you mustered the courage to reply. “i don't care. this is my job, not…” you trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

you wordlessly finished stitching up his wound, grabbed his chin in between your thumb and index finger like you'd done countless of times before and turned his head to both sides so you could examine his face.

your eyes trailed to the bruise marring his lips. they were as plump as you remembered, but the familiar softness was gone. they looked slightly rougher now – chapped and marked with faint remnants of past bruises.

you reached for a clean cotton swab, dipping it gently into the antiseptic. his gaze stayed fixed on you, the weight of it almost making your hands falter. carefully, you dabbed at the bruise on his lips, the antiseptic gliding over it. his lips parted slightly at the touch.

the bruises on his lips were always the hardest to see. he was already struggling with sores from time to time, and every other day, a new bruise was added to what had become a painful collection. but jake loved to kiss you. your lips, your cheeks, your knuckles, your forehead, the tip of your nose – he'd kiss you everywhere, again and again, no matter how much it pained him. only once had he not been able to kiss you. and, of course, it had to be your anniversary. he had promised you to not go that day – had promised you to be home for dinner that you'd prepared so lovingly, cooking all his favorite dishes and even bringing out the nice plates his parents had gifted you when you'd first moved in together. the ones you usually only used for guests. but as time passed, and the blue sky outside your kitchen window slowly turned to black, you knew he wouldn't be home before midnight. you tried to be angry, really, but you couldn't stop the waves of worries from washing over you again and again. with shaking hands, you grabbed your phone to call him, certain he wouldn't answer. but after only two rings, you heard his voice. "babe? i'm on my way, i–" "are you okay?" you interrupted, your voice trembling slightly. just hearing him eased the twist in your stomach, but not fully. jake swallowed hard on the other end, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "i'm sorry," he replied after a while. "i know i promised." he sounded guilty. "you did," you replied quietly. "please... just come home." the line went silent except for the sound of jake's breathing, and you knew he was searching for the right things to say, but you still hung up. the dinner you'd put so much effort into had long gone cold, yet you couldn't get yourself to empty the table. you waited silently, eyes fixed on the clock on the wall, until the door clicked and jake's footsteps echoed through the hall. "princess?" jake's familiar voice called, a little unsure but loud enough to hear. he kicked off his shoes and rushed to the kitchen where you were sitting in your chair. you looked at him, your heart aching at how tired his eyes looked – at how his face was covered in fresh bruises; one on his jaw, one right below his temple, and a fresh one on his bottom lip. your eyes filled with tears that you quickly blinked away. he didn't say anything as he stepped closer, pulled you to your feet and embraced you in a tight hug, although it made him flinch. you buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent as you tightened your arms around him. “i’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair, “i should’ve been here. i shouldn’t have–” you pulled away and looked up at him. jake hesitated, his eyes scanning your face. then, he leaned down and kissed your forehead. it hurt him – you could see in the way his jaw tightened and feel it in the way he pulled back immediately. "i'm sorry."

jake's sudden hiss broke the silence another time. "ah– y/n–"

you quickly pulled back the cotton swab from his lips, only realizing then that you had kept it on his wound while deep in thoughts yet again.

"sorry," you mumbled, blinking quickly as if that could erase the image your mind had just replayed, "did it sting?" your eyes flicked up to his.

"a little," he admitted, his voice low.

you pressed your lips together, focusing on your task as you cleaned away the faint streaks of dried blood and dirt clinging to the cracks. for a moment, your thumb brushed the edge of his jaw, steadying his face as you worked.

your hands were itching to pull out the chapstick you kept in the pocket of your coat and soothe his lips with it like you always used to do after cleaning up yet another bruise.

"you used to just kiss them better," he mumbled, more to himself than to you, but his words still made you freeze for a second.

"are you hurt anywhere else?" you asked, avoiding his eyes as you took one of his hands in yours and silently cleaned his bleeding knuckles.

his eyes traced down from your face to his hand in yours, slightly bigger, probably a lot rougher. it reminded him of how you'd often cleaned the blood off of his knuckles before, but also of how you'd loved to play with his hands when you were cuddled up against each other on the sofa or in bed. or how you'd always let him take the leftover lotion from your hands whenever you'd applied too much again. he was sure your hands were just as soft as he remembered them underneath the thin plastic gloves.

"jake?", you asked again, reminding him of the previous question he'd left unanswered.

he hesitated for a second, before slowly pulling his hand out of your hold, internally forwning at the loss of your touch, and reaching for the hem of the shirt he wore underneath the zip hoodie.

he slowly pulled it up until you could see a dark red bruise blooming on his ribcage. you winced slightly at the sight but still leaned in a little closer to get a better look, bringing two fingers up to the bruise and carefully letting them ghost over his skin.

"there's not much you can do for a hematoma. ice packs and... rest," you said, your eyes flicking up to his at your last word. jake lowered his shirt again and just nodded wordlessly.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. you just stood in front of him, not close enough for your legs to brush against his knees but not far enough to feel entirely out of his reach. his eyes met yours and for the first time since you'd seen him sitting in the ER, you didn't look away.

secretly, you hoped he'd see the hurt somewhere in your eyes. that he'd somehow understand how badly he fucked you up, even now that you supposedly didn't care about him anymore.

jake's hand was itching to reach for yours, to graze his fingertips over your knuckles again. hell, maybe to take your hand and pull you into a tight hug – knowing damn well every muscle in his body would hurt too much – but still, holding you so close you'd never leave him again.

but just as his hand moved forward the tiniest bit, you broke eye contact and took another step back, bringing more distance between the two of you.

"you're all patched up," you said sternly, "you'll get your papers and instructions in a few." with these words, you walked toward the door, yet you hesitated to leave.

you turned around to look at him one last time. "take care, jake. seriously, i don't want to see you here again."

the flourescent lights softly buzzed above you as you rushed from patient to patient. your feet were hurting at this point, but you knew you'd only have two more hours left until your shift was over.

you had picked up extra shifts, not entirely voluntarily due to the staff shortage, but you honestly didn't mind. keeping yourself busy kept any thoughts about your encounter with jake almost three weeks ago in the very back of your mind.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't worried deep down, but he hadn't made another appearance in the hospital since the last time, so at least, he was dealing with less severe wounds now.

you were finishing a report on the patient you'd just treated when the charge nurses firm voice made you flinch.

"incoming male patient in his twenties with suspected head trauma and possible internal bleeding. ETA three minutes. notify surgery – likely immediate intervention."

you looked up from the paper, focusing your attention on her and waiting for further instructions.

"y/n, you're prepping," she said, giving you a short look. you nodded, put down your clipboard and followed along as the team moved toward the ambulance bay.

"paramedics said he got injured in a fight," the charge nurse informed. you nodded again, mentally going through the steps you'd have to take now, until you really registered what she'd said.

suspected head trauma. possible internal bleeding. injured in a fight.

the combination of the facts she'd thrown at you and your colleagues so professionally started to ring in your ears like a deafening alarm.

jake.

you felt your heart starting to pound violently in your chest and your airways seemed to swell with every step you took toward where you'd await the ambulance. every worst-case scenario ran through your mind, each more terrifying than the last.

only when you tripped over your own foot, stumbling forward just slightly before catching yourself, you snapped out of it and managed to gather your thoughts again. countless of people got into fights every day. it's not him.

when the double doors of the ambulance burst open, you caught sight of the stretcher, slightly shuddering at the sight of the motionless figure laying on it. it wasn't your first time seeing a patient like this, but that didn't make it more pleasant.

"he's stable for now," one of the paramedics announced, "caller said he hit his head on the floor after a punch. unconscious when we found him. nose bleed, slight swelling of the head, pupils unequal," he rattled off the patient's symptoms.

"we managed to stabilize him, but his vitals dipped twice."

your heart was already in your throat, but when you stepped closer and got a clear view of the patient's face the world seemed to stop.

he looked battered, but you'd always recognize him – in every state, in every lifetime. his skin was pale, sickly so, and blood stuck his bangs to his forehead. a deep gash stretched over his temple, still leaking blood. dried red stains under his nostrils, on his cheeks – everywhere. so. much. blood.

you tried to stay calm but the walls were closing around you, squeezing you tighter until you couldn't breathe anymore. your vision started to blur as you reached for the handle of the stretcher with termbling hands.

"y/n," someone called, but the sound was muffled, like it was coming from underwater.

"jake," his name slipped past your lips in a whisper. you felt your head spinning, every late night thought that had plagued you for so long before you'd walked away from him crashing down on you – revealing reality in its ugliest form.

you didn't realize how much you were shaking until one of the other nurses grabbed your arm to gently guide you away. "i don't think you should–"

"no!" you exclaimed, pulling your arm free and stepping closer again, "i n-need to–"

“y/n,” the charge nurse’s voice cut through, snapping you out of the haze. “step back. now.”

the tone in her voice left no room for argument, but your feet still felt rooted in place. it wasn’t until the stretcher began to roll toward the operating room that you finally stepped back.

the outline of jake's body, all blurry from the tears in your eyes, was the last thing you saw before the doors swung shut behind him.

the charge nurse started to say something, but every noise around you shut down except for the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears and your breath coming ragged.

jake.

you hated him. you loved him. and now, it felt like he was slipping through your fingers for good.

your legs felt numb as you paced up and down the hall, not able to stay still. your body felt exhausted after pushing through your intense 10 hour shift, but you felt restless. time seemed to extend forever as you kept waiting for an update. you didn't know how long the surgery had been going on when the doors finally swung open and revealed the surgeon.

you quickly approached him, although you didn't know if you were ready to be confronted with whatever news he had. his expression seemed calm, but he might as well have looked horrified – you wouldn't breathe until you'd heard the confirming words.

"he's stable," he said finally, and as you hesitated to reply, he added, "he'll be fine. he'll take some time but–"

"can i see him?" you interrupted.

the surgeon furrowed his brows slightly. "he's not awake yet. he needs rest now, y/n."

you should have felt relieved but your terror wouldn't ease until you've seen him with your own eyes.

"please," you pressed, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

he hesitated for a while. your stomach started to drop another time until he gave in and sighed. "i guess you can help out in the recovery room," he mumbled, clearly not fully happy with the idea. you paced off before he could change his mind, only stopping to hesitate for a second once you reached the room. you took a deep breath before opening the door.

your eyes fell on jake immediately, he was lying in bed and although the sight of him wired to all types of machines and with a bandage around his head was worrying, you let yourself breathe for the first time since his arrival. he looked almost peaceful.

your vision blurred as you stepped closer and pulled a chair to his bed to sit down for the first time in hours. you reached out, your hand hovering slightly over his before you pulled it back again.

"i swear to god, jake, i–" a soft sob escaping your throat cut you off.

minutes passed, maybe an hour. you were just sitting next to his bed, blankly staring at him while the tears rolled down your face until you didn't have any left to cry.

when jake's eyes slowly fluttered open, the bright lights above forced him to squeeze them shut again immediately. his head was pounding, the almost unbearable pain forcing a quiet groan out of him.

he took a deep breath and forced his eyes open again, slowly taking in the environment in an attempt to make sense of his whereabouts. as he slowly came to his senses, he started feeling the even rushes of air against his arm.

jake forced himself to move his head to the side, although that only reinforced the pain he now felt in his entire body.

but all the pain melted away when he saw you – your head placed next to him on the matress, your soft breath brushing against his skin. your eyes were closed, your lashes wet and your cheeks slightly flushed. you had been crying for him. and you were here. even after everything he'd put you through.

it was only a few weeks after the ruined anniversary dinner when jake couldn't hold it in anymore. "there's something i haven't told you," he stated when you were cuddled up against him on the sofa. his heart was pounding violently in his chest when you sat up and swallowed so hard that he could hear it. "what is it?" you asked and jake swore the anxiety in your voice nearly shattered his heart into a million pieces. because it wasn't the first time you'd sounded like this, not the first time he'd made you sound like this. and the worst part? he couldn't blame you. when had all of this gone so wrong – when had he stopped being a safe place for you? jake took a deep, shaky breath before he continued, his voice careful as if it could break you. "you remember how i... worked hard, right?" your expression stayed blank, except for the crease that formed between your eyebrows. jake took your wordless nod as a sign to go on. "last week, after one of my boxing sessions," jake began, pausing to gather his courage, "there was this scout. he said he’d been watching me for a while... and that he liked what he saw." your lips parting slightly as you processed his words. "he offered me a chance to go pro." there it was. the sparkle in your eyes. the one thing he wanted to see the most, and the one thing he'd extinguish yet another time. "that's amazing, jake," you said, the relief in your tone only pressing down harder on him. "that means... proper guidelines, more safety?" he nodded slowly, avoiding your eyes as his gaze stayed fixated on the cushions of the sofa. "so...?" you continued carefully. "i turned it down," jake said quickly, as if saying it slower would take away the courage to say it at all. he didn't look at you. couldn't get himself to see the announcement crashing down on you in another wave of disappointment and worry. "you what?" you asked. your voice sounded so unsure – as if you'd only misheard – and jake's heart cracked when he repeated his words. "i turned it down," this time slower. "jake, you said–" "i know what i said, y/n. that i'd take the chance immediately if i got it. but this is not who i am, this–... i don't want to play by other people's rules and–" "do you even hear yourself?" you interrupted. your voice was filled with both anger and frustration and even though jake hated it, you were right. "play by other people's rules? you turned down the chance to do what you want to do, but safely. you've been coming home looking like hell for months. i don't care if you win or not, a body can only take that much," you continued, growing a bit louder with each word. jake knew you were right, and he knew it was wrong when he raised his voice back at you. when he shoved your feelings aside for his pride. "i don't get why you care so much. it's not like you're getting hurt," he replied, his tone agitated. "you're my everything, jake, don't you get that?" you almost screamed, tears of frustration daring to fall from your eyes. the sight of you like this deepened the crack, finally breaking his heart. but he just gritted his teeth, his jaw visibly tensing. you blinked a few times before standing up. "but you're right," you said in a stable voice although jake could see your hands slightly shaking, "i can't keep caring about you when you don't give two shits about yourself." and with that, you left the room – and a few minutes later the apartment.

another low groan stirred you awake. you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the sleep, and then straightened your back almost immediately when you realized you'd fallen asleep.

your eyes immediately fell on jake and you felt like the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders when you saw him looking back at you. he was awake.

you immediately shot to your feet. "are you hurting?" you asked in an almost alarmed tone, turning around to provide him with painkillers, but the weak grasp on your wrist stopped you.

you slowly turned back around to face jake as he raised your hand to his lips and weakly brushed an attempt of a kiss against your knuckles, just like he'd always done.

"why are you here? i thought you hated me" he said, his voice so faint that it was almost inaudible.

you looked at him blankly, "i... do hate you."

jake didn't reply. the silence between you stretched. you wanted to say it, to admit it. to tell him that you didn't hate him. that you were still so fucking in love with him. that you'd always been, even when his reckless behavior made you lose your mind. that you'd never stopped caring about him.

but you just stared at him, your throat tightening with the words you didn’t know how to say. jake’s eyes, even though they were filled with exhaustion, never left yours.

he broke the silence first, although with only a whsiper, “i’m sorry.”

your breath hitched, and you blinked, unsure if you’d heard him right.

“for everything,” jake continued. “for all the times i didn’t listen. for making you hate me.” his lips curled into a faint, sad smile. “and for breaking every promise i made to you.”

your heart ached at his words. you searched his face for a hint of insincerity, but there was none.

“you’ve got a lot to be sorry for,” you said softly, sitting back down in the chair.

“i know.” he shifted slightly on the bed, wincing at the pain but refusing to break eye contact. “at some point, i didn’t care what happened to me because…” he trailed off, his gaze leaving yours for the first time.

“because...?”

his eyes returned to yours. “because i knew i was losing you, y/n. i know it sounds stupid," he hesitated, "but losing you already felt like i was dead. so i didn’t care what happened.”

the words hit you like a wave, knocking the breath out of your lungs. your fingers twitched, and before you could stop yourself, you reached for his hand. his skin was rough, but the way his fingers curled around yours was heartbreakingly gentle.

"every time you came home like this, i thought i’d lose you, " you said, your voice shaking, "and then i guess i finally did.”

jake shook his head, despite the new jolt of pain that rushed through him. “you never lost me,” he whispered.

the walls you’d spent so long building crumbled, piece by piece. you wanted to hate him, yes. but you also loved him – so much it felt like your heart had never been ready to let go, even when your mind had told you to.

“i don’t hate you,” you murmured. “i never did.”

your eyes met his again, and for the first time in months, it didn't feel like drowning – it felt like coming home.

just as jake was about to bring your hand up to his lips again, the door swung open to reveal the surgeon. you quickly pulled your hand away and straightened your back.

"mr sim?" he asked, to which jake looked at him expectantly.

"i'm sure you've heard this before," the surgeon continued, his eyes flicking to you, before focusing back on jake, "but you need rest. that means no boxing for now. you got severely injured and it will take a long while to heal fully."

your eyes went from the doctor to jake, and as you saw him swallowing, you absentmindedly took his hand in yours again, his fingers gently curling around yours.

jake nodded as best as he could and the surgeon left without another word. as you looked back at jake, you opened your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

"no boxing at all anymore," he said softly, causing your eyes to widen just slightly, "i'll stop if it means i'll get another chance to be with you."

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[stellar-haikyuu]

dependable ace ☆ ushijima wakatoshi x reader

synopsis: when reader develops a fever after training camp ends, she quickly realizes why ushijima is a dependable ace—just in a different way. details: fluff | sickfic | ~1.3k words | manager, f! reader | relationship leaning toward romantic

It was rather unfortunate that you developed a fever on the last day of the team’s training camp. 

With the inter-high tournament approaching rather quickly, you wondered if the stress and exhaustion from keeping up with the team had finally caught up to you. Then again, you didn’t exactly have the best immune system to begin with.

That morning, you were still fast asleep in your assigned room as everyone prepared to leave. Goshiki had knocked on your door, asking if you were alright. All you could do was hum weakly in response.

At some point, more voices started to appear from different directions. You assumed the coaches and the other members had come to check in on you, but their words just blurred together.

However, one voice cuts through the fog with startling clarity.

“She is not feeling well. What should we do?”

You force yourself to open your eyes. Multiple blinks later, Ushijima’s face finally comes into focus. For a moment, you wonder if it’s a fever dream—there’s something different about his usually stoic expression. It’s much…softer.

The chatter of the team fades into background noise as you focus on the team’s ace. Something about him just keeps you grounded in all the haze.

Your breath hitches when he suddenly makes eye contact with you and calls your name.

“Can you understand what I am saying? Would it be alright for me to carry you to the bus?”

Carry me?

You blink at him, nodding slowly. There’s not much you can do about it anyway—it feels like a hundred bricks are weighing your body down.

Someone gently peels your blanket away and Ushijima squats down in front of you.

“How should I carry her?” He looks at the rest of the team for help. Suggestions are thrown around, but in the end, everyone agrees that the best way is to ask you.

The thing is, you don’t know the answer to his question. 

You take a few deep breaths to think. As your eyes wander, you notice the sunlight slowly creeping across the room, nearly reaching your futon. Some of it shines on Ushijima, bathing him in an ethereal glow.

In your feverish delirium, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Doesn’t matter…I trust you.”

The world seems to stop as the words leave your mouth. His eyes widen a fraction before he nods once, resolute. “Alright.”

He slowly moves forward to pick you up, his movements careful. You try your best to be helpful, adjusting yourself when he slides one arm under your knees and the other under your back.

“Ah, bridal style.” You hear a snicker from somewhere. “Not bad, Wakatoshi-kun.”

As Ushijima pulls you securely to his chest, you feel the rumble of his voice. “Bridal style? Then…is this inappropriate?”

“No, no, that’s just what it’s called. Don’t worry, lots of people do it, not just married couples.”

“Ah. I see.”

You glance up at his face, taking in the solid line of his jaw and his calm, focused expression. For a fleeting moment, the thought of being Ushijima’s bride runs through your mind. How lucky his future wife would be…

The thought lingers longer than it should, but your imagination is cut short when Ushijima lifts you effortlessly. The sudden motion and slight shift in your orientation make your head spin, drawing a soft groan from your lips. Instinctively, your hands reach out to steady yourself.

Ushijima stiffens for a brief second, and you realize that your arms are wrapped around his neck.

Although you’re pretty sure your entire body is a furnace, you feel more heat rise to your face. Thankfully, no one comments on what you did.

“Her body temperature is very high. We should move fast so she can recover as soon as possible.” 

He directs the rest of the team, following a clear, continuous train of thought. You hear something about retrieving your belongings, checking for forgotten items, tidying up the room, things to buy at the convenience store, and lots more you can no longer process.

At some point, you nod off. It’s the absence of his deep voice that jolts you awake, just as he starts walking out of the room. 

You shift in his hold, braving another glance at his face. He notices and returns your gaze, but none of you say anything for a while.

(And well, it might be better not to, since he’s about to descend the staircase.)

It’s rare for someone to be carried by the Ushijima Wakatoshi, so you try to etch this memory in your mind forever. You focus on his strong arms and how they have not wavered once since he lifted you. 

When he reaches the parking lot, the cold morning breeze hits you. You involuntarily shiver, wishing you had worn your team jacket. 

“You are cold,” Ushijima comments. “Even though your body temperature is rather high.”

“Y-Yeah. That’s how a f-fever works,” you chuckle at his observation. You can’t help but pull yourself closer to him, arms tightening around his neck. “S-Sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize.” He continues walking and the bus quickly comes into view. A pang of disappointment hits when you realize that this moment with him will soon end.

As he brings you onto the bus, you tense at the temperature. A chill runs up your spine as you realize the air conditioning is at full blast. A shaky breath is all you can manage when Ushijima looks at you with…great concern.

“Tendou told me that cuddling increases body heat. Would that help you?”

You freeze, rendered absolutely speechless at his offer. “W-what?”

“He said that it makes a cold person feel better. Do you agree?”

You cannot bear another second dealing with your body’s baffling thermoregulation. At the same time, you want to fulfill a selfish wish to keep him closer to you for as long as possible.

“Yes,” you respond with no hesitation, sucking in a breath.

Ushijima nods at your consent. As he takes the paired seat in front, he gently lays you down next to him. To your surprise, he takes off his team jacket and silently offers it to you.

The generous action nearly makes you swoon. You thank him softly with a promise to return it later.

Ushjima waits patiently until you finish putting his jacket on. As expected, it’s quite big, but you’re just grateful for the extra layer over your pajamas.

“How would you like to...” There’s a tinge of uncertainty in his voice that you’ve never heard before. You can’t help but grin at how endearing he is.

“Um…” You turn towards him, shifting a little closer. Initiating the contact is a lot more daunting than you thought. Slowly, you lift your legs to rest them over his thighs. Then, you lean into him and wrap your arms around his torso.

“Is this okay?” Your voice comes out a little breathless. “If it’s uncomfortable, I can-”

“I am fine with this.” Ushijima responds, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Would you like me to do anything else?”

His earnest desire to make you feel better tugs at your heart. “You can wrap your arms around me too.”

Ushijima hesitates for a moment, unsure of where to place his arms. You guide him gently, adjusting until the two of you settle into a comfortable embrace.

You close your eyes, sighing in content as his warmth finally envelops you. Throwing caution to the wind, you rest your head on Ushijima’s broad chest. The steady rhythm of its rise and fall is relaxing. 

“I feel better,” you mutter.

“I am thankful that is so.”

Would Washijo-sensei kill you if he sees this? Whatever, you can always blame it on the fever.

As the seconds pass by, you start to hear the thumps of his heartbeat. The rate is a little rapid, but you suppose it’s because he just spent the past few minutes carrying you. It doesn’t matter though, it’s soothing either way.

Before falling into slumber, you hear him speak in a low voice. “Thank you for your trust in me.”

“Of course, Ushijima-san,” You whisper in response. “You really are the dependable ace.”

masterlist

[moonstruckme]

hi i have an unhealthy attachment to your doctor!remus content…could i request a fic where reader is hiding some type of health problem from him or maybe ignoring it, and when something bad happens he finds out and is all stern with her and his usual worried self? i <3 this man, thank you truly for sharing your writing and doing it so well!!

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: description of vertigo, mention of nausea

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re sick of being miserable. You had a cold, which had turned out to be the flu, which had turned into a sinus infection, and your poor, sweet boyfriend had weathered it all with you. Remus had made you soup. He’d warmed damp towels for your sinuses. He’d stayed home from work a couple of days, and rubbed your back, and your chest, and your temples when they ached, and supplied you with name-brand medicines. He’d been so, so patient when you were whiny and awful to be around. So now, when your sinus infection has turned into this heinous ear pain, you’ve decided you’re done with it. 

You won’t entertain your body with its miseries any more. You certainly won’t be making it Remus’ problem. 

It’s easy not to feel miserable when you wake up before him on a slow Saturday morning. There’s a line of sunlight reaching across the room from the crack in your curtains, Remus’ face lovely even in shadow. He could use a haircut, you think fondly. It’s starting to cover the tops of his ears, which you think is a rather endearing look on him even if you have to agree when he says it’s not very professional. 

Eventually his eyes blink open. He smiles when he finds you watching him, the stretch of his lips sleepy and content. You draw a finger lightly down the bridge of his nose. 

“I think,” you say, “that we should stay here all day long.” 

Remus’ smile widens, and it takes half a second after his mouth begins moving for you to realize you can’t hear him properly. You pick your good ear up off the pillow as subtly as you can, propping your chin on your hand. You ignore the wave of dizziness that follows. 

“...what you really want? You’ve been home nearly all week,” says Remus. “What if we went on a walk today? We could go to that park you like, the one with the lake.” 

You shove down the dread that rises in your chest. This is what you want. You want to get over being poorly and get back to your life. 

“You’re right,” you say brightly. “That sounds great.” 

Remus peers over you to check the time. “Oh. God, we slept in, didn’t we? We may have to go soon if we want it to still be nice out.” 

“That’s alright,” you say easily. “I’ll be right after you, I just have to pick out what I’m going to wear.” 

Remus leans forward to peck you on the forehead, getting out of bed with a sleepy groan. He stretches his neck this way and that, movements sluggish as he goes toward the bathroom. 

Your movements are sluggish for different reasons. You sit up slowly, fighting through the vertigo that sloshes the room about you in protest. It wasn’t this bad yesterday. 

You discover a series of new miseries as you get dressed with cautious, snail-like movements. Your ear hurts something awful. More than that, the pain has spread to most of your head. The constant dizziness quickly results in a low nausea. You’re genuinely uncertain whether the ringing in your ears is a symptom of your ear infection or a warning bell of your impending insanity. 

Putting on your trousers is an ordeal. By the time you sit down on the bed to pull on socks, your resolve has spiderweb cracks spreading and threatening to unleash a meltdown. 

But you’re stubborn. You can do this, you think. If you’re only walking on even ground in the park, and Remus’ hand is in yours, you’re sure you can manage. The internet said your symptoms wouldn’t last long anyway—maybe they’ll clear up as the day goes on. 

“...ove? Dove?” 

You look up as Remus comes to stand in front of you, swallowing when the world spins. In the center of the swirl, you think he’s smiling. His hand cups your face. 

“You seemed off in your own world there,” he says fondly. 

You smile and hum, keeping your head perfectly still so that the spinning slows. Remus’ eyebrows twitch towards each other. 

“You alright?” 

“Mhm, yeah.” You cup your hand over his, holding onto it as you stand. “Let’s go.” 

“You’re ready?” he asks while you pull him towards the door. You sway a bit in your effort to walk at a normal pace, reaching for the doorframe. 

The hallway in front of you looks like a funhouse horror. You put one foot in front of the other as surely as you can. “Yeah,” you say. “Aren’t you?”

Remus’ hand tightens on yours. You don’t understand why for a moment, but then you’re falling sideways, his hands catching you around the waist. 

“Dove.” His stern voice is slightly alarmed and largely disembodied, your eyes unable to find his face in the whirling mass in front of you. “What’s going on?” 

Like an overinflated balloon popping, you burst into tears. 

Remus collects you to his chest, holding your head securely against him as he half carries you back to the bed. It doesn’t prevent your dizziness entirely, but it helps. 

“What’s happening?” he asks more gently as you sniff and whimper. “I can’t fix it if I don’t know.” 

“I think it’s an ear infection,” you say in a small voice. “It hurts, and my head hurts, and I’m so—” You take in a short breath. “—so dizzy I feel sick.” 

“Okay. Okay, it’s alright.” Remus pets the back of your head, shushing you until you calm some. 

“Sorry,” you whimper. 

“What are you sorry for, love? For crying?” 

Your sniffly silence is answer enough. 

Remus sighs. “Why did you try to act like nothing was wrong?” 

“Because,” you say thinly, “I’m tired of things being wrong. I just want—” You pause, pressing your lips together to avoid crying again. “I want to feel normal.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Your boyfriend’s mix of disappointment and sympathy only brings you closer to tears. “You can’t will it, my love. And you can’t pretend this away. These are the sorts of things I need to know about.” 

You blink away the blur of tears, grateful that your world has finally straightened out. You press your head closer to Remus’ chest. “I wanted to give you a break, too,” you admit. “The internet said it would go away in a couple of days, so I figured I’d just ride it out.” 

“Mm, a middle ear infection would.” 

You stiffen. “What does that mean?” 

The kiss Remus drops to your head is heavy with compassion. “Vertigo like this comes with an inner ear infection, dove. They take longer to go away, sometimes weeks, but the process can be sped up with antibiotics.” 

He pauses while you process this. 

“You know, the sort prescribed by a doctor.” 

“Oh.” 

He chuckles fondly, kissing your head again. “This is why you tell me things. Understand?” 

“Yeah.” You wrap your arms around his middle, clinging pathetically. “I’m sorry. Help me.” 

“I will, sweetheart. Think you can lay down and be still while I nip to work and the pharmacy?” 

You don’t think you’ll have any problems there.

[revelboo]

Creeping in with a spice request..what other bots might use restraints in the berthroom? We definitely know tfp soundwave does.

But I was also having a wandering mind with other possibilities. Prowl..tfp megs...maybe jazz...def Es soundwave I definitely remember his tie job with those extension cables 👀

Oooh shibari/restraint fun…

Restraint Headcanons/Scenarios

18+ Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Prowl

• “Don’t you dare!” Laughing despite yourself as you struggle against the weird harness he’s wrapped you up in, your arms and torso bound, loops hooking around your thighs and crisscrossing you. And your eyes drift up to the length of chain dangling from the ceiling and the hook at the end. Wiggling when he hauls you up and there’s a moment of discomfort as he adjusts the harness. “Prowl,” you protest, giggling as you spin in a lazy circle, snarled in the loops and knots of soft rope. “What if I changed my mind?”

• “Have you?” He asks, head tipping as he moves around you and checks the harness. Making sure you’re comfortably suspended. Circling back in front of you, his servos slide against your inner thigh, the harness keeping you pinned and spread wide for him. “All you have to do is ask.” And he’ll let you down eventually, servos stroking you and watching you arch and wiggle what little bit you can. Bound and helpless. “Do you want me to stop?” Pressing a servo inside you, he growls. Despite your protests, you’re slick already.

• And he’s leaning forward to vent against you as he thrusts that servo deep, curling it. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” Moaning a protest when he slips his servo free and releases his spike. Figuring out exactly why he’d called this a punishment for you being a brat when he grips your hips and slowly pulls you forward, his spike stretching you. And you can’t really move, arms bound and thighs spread wide. Watch his optics shutter as he groans and begins to use the harness, swinging you to meet his thrusts. Toes curling and head thrown back as his hips snap against yours. Completely at his mercy.

ES Soundwave

• In hindsight, provoking him on purpose might not have been your best plan, but you love the repercussions. Wriggling as he hooks an arm around you and ties your wrists with some of the stupid extension cord he’d apparently saved just for this, your breath wheezes out of when he bends your hips up trying to grab your bound wrists when you yank them over your head. Making you realize one of your legs is over his hip, the other against his shoulder. And his spike is right there against you. Hear his snarl, feel the way he shudders as he comes to the same realization.

• Gripping your hips, he buries himself inside you, stretching you in a deep drive and you moan, squirming. “Wait,” you gasp when he begins to move, hips pumping against you. Making a note that you’re so tight this way, hips curled up and unable to get any leverage to move. Curling himself move over you, he pins your wrists with a hand and listens to your ragged cries. Begging him for more even as you squirm and try to escape him. “Soundwave.” Moving faster against you, hips pumping as you tighten even more. Lost in the wet sound of you taking his spikes and your moans.

TFP Megs

• Optics hooded as he tugs on your glittering leash just to make those eyes flash up at him, warm mouth sliding on his spike to make him dig the clawed servos of his other hand into the throne he’d demanded the Vehicons fashion him for when he’s mass displaced. Sprawled back on it, thighs spread, he watches your head bob on his spike, tongue sliding on him and he growls. That wet heat and suction, the feel of you palm on his thigh, the other gripping his spike too much, snarling as he comes apart and you jerk your head back, his release on your chin and body. And those indignant eyes, narrowing because he’d not warned you how close he was. Tugging gently on your leash until you stand so he can pull you into his lap across his thigh, he wipes your bottom lip clean and snarls when your tongue darts out to lick him. Servos sliding against your skin, gathering his wasted release and grinning at you as he presses that slick servo inside you, stroking to make you squirm.

ES Tarantulas

• “Dammit, Tarantulas,” you groan as you realize he’d webbed you again. Your arms and legs bound and spread as you hang facedown. And you can hear his chittering laughter before he moves into view under you, mandibles flexing. “You could just ask.” Not just do it while you’re asleep so you wake up dangling and helpless like prey.

• “Part of the allure is capturing you,” he murmurs, clawed servos tipping your face as his mandibles brushes your cheek and neck. His sharp denta grazing your skin as his glossa chases your pulse. “A side effect of this altmode.” Legs plucking at the web you’re trapped in, he shifts against you and you make a noise when he flips himself, nuzzling between your thighs, glossa stroking inside you. Feeling you bucking and wiggling what little you can as he settles in. Has no intention of letting you loose for a while, keeping you helpless and trapped whole he breeds you.

Jazz

• Laughing as you squirm, his hands grip your hips and move you on his spike. Sprawled back against the wall, with your wrists bound and hooked around his neck, his lips brush your sweat slicked neck. Feeling you begin to tremble and tighten on him again as he lazily rolls his hips. You’d stopped being able to do much besides whimpering incoherently after the third or fourth round. Those little noises coiling him tight as he groans. Hearing your little ragged cries as he shakily vents. Loves you like this, so messy and needy and at his mercy as he fills you again and again. Thinking about sparking you as you press your face into his neck and come apart on him, fisting his spike. Every round making it harder to resist that need.

[joelsrose]

Crybaby

fluff drabble 🥺

It had been months of you going back and forth about getting bangs. Nothing too dramatic—just soft, wispy ones to frame your face. Joel, ever supportive, would pull you into his chest and brush your hair back, smiling. "I'd love you with no hair, baby," he’d say, his voice low and warm as you lay together in bed. The way he said it always made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

But today was the day. You were finally sitting in the hairdresser’s chair, heart pounding as the scissors snipped away. The first strands fell, and your stomach flipped. By the end, as you stared at your reflection, you couldn’t hide the rising panic. Shit. Shit. Shit. The bangs didn’t look anything like what you imagined. The hairdresser beamed, waiting for your approval, and you forced a smile so tight your cheeks hurt. "I love it," you lied, because what else could you do? Wish your hair back into place?

Walking home, your sniffles turned into full-blown hiccups as you fought back tears. Why did I do this? By the time you reached the front door, your head was spinning. You shoved it open, dropping your keys on the table without bothering to call out.

"Hey, baby," Joel’s voice rumbled from somewhere—maybe the living room or the kitchen. You didn’t stop to see. Instead, you bolted upstairs, your steps heavy on the wooden stairs.

Joel frowned, setting down whatever he was holding. "The hell?" he muttered under his breath, his brows knitting together. You never came home without greeting him.

With a groan, he pushed himself up, his boots clunking against the floor as he followed. "Baby?" he called out, his voice softening. He checked the bedroom, but it was empty. His eyes flicked to the slightly ajar bathroom door, and he knocked lightly. "You in here?"

"No," you replied, your voice muffled and miserable.

He chuckled, the sound warm and teasing, like he already knew you were being dramatic but didn’t mind one bit. “What’re you doin’, silly girl? Tryin’ to hide from me?”

"Joel, go away," you called back, your voice shaky with unshed tears.

Joel stayed right where he was, leaning against the doorframe, the wood creaking under his weight. "Not comin’ in, don’t worry. Just wanna talk to my girl." His voice softened, rich with concern. "What’s wrong, angel? C’mon, you know you can talk to me."

"I look ugly," you sniffled, voice small and wavering.

A pause. Then, firm and sure, "Not possible." He exhaled like he couldn’t believe you’d even think that. "C’mon, baby, what happened?"

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. "I got my haircut," you finally admitted, the words tumbling out with a shaky sob. "She—she fucked up my bangs."

Joel’s breath hitched, and you could almost hear the frown tugging at his lips. "Oh, sweetheart," he cooed, his voice dripping with tenderness. "Can I see? Please?"

"You won’t like it," you whimpered.

"Darlin’," he said, his tone low and soft, "there’s not a damn thing on this earth that could make me not like lookin’ at you. Open the door for me, baby."

"You have to promise not to laugh," you said, your voice wavering behind the closed bathroom door.

Joel’s voice was steady, warm, and laced with sincerity. "Cross my heart, darlin'. Not a single laugh, I swear."

There was a pause, and then, with a huff, you muttered, "Fine."

The door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside slowly, his movements careful and deliberate, like coaxing a scared puppy. His boots clicked softly against the tiles, and his heart twisted when he saw you—facing away, your hands buried in your face, shoulders trembling just a little.

Joel sat on the edge of the bathtub, his knees brushing against yours. "You gonna face me, pretty girl?" he asked softly, his tone coaxing, like he was talking to something fragile.

You shook your head, your messy hair swaying as you kept your face hidden. "Making this real hard for me," he chuckled, the sound soft, reassuring.

"Joel," you groaned, dragging out his name like a warning, but there was no bite in it, just pure frustration with yourself.

"C’mon, baby," he murmured, his hands reaching for you, warm and steady as they wrapped gently around your forearm. Slowly, he guided you to stand between his legs, "Let me see that pretty face, hmm?"

You hesitated, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His hands, rough and familiar, slid down to rest on your hips, grounding you. His thumbs rubbed soft circles into your sides, and you couldn’t help but relax, even just a little.

"Slowly now," he whispered, his voice low and sweet, the kind of tone that made your heart flutter no matter how upset you were.

With a shaky exhale, you let your arms drop to your sides, revealing your tear-streaked face and the bangs you’d already convinced yourself were a disaster. Your eyes stayed glued to the floor, bracing for Joel’s reaction, your heart pounding so hard it echoed in your ears.

"Holy shit, honey," Joel drawled, his voice low and soft, but there was something in his tone that made you glance up, even through your nerves.

Your brows furrowed. "What?" you whispered, half-expecting him to laugh.

Joel leaned back slightly, his eyes warm and full of something you couldn’t quite place. He let out a slow whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Didn’t know it was possible for my girl to get even prettier."

Your lip quivered as you tried to hold back another wave of tears. "You’re lying," you said weakly, your arms crossing defensively over your chest. "I look ridiculous."

Joel tsked, already reaching for you. His hands found your waist, strong and steady, and before you could protest, he was pulling you into his lap. His broad hands spanned your back, pressing you close as if he could hold your insecurities at bay just by touching you.

"Ridiculously cute," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. His hand came up to gently tuck your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering as they traced along the curve of your cheek. "You look like a damn fairy, baby. All delicate and perfect."

You buried your face in his chest, shaking your head as your cheeks flushed. "I don’t," you mumbled, your voice muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt.

Joel’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb stroking small, soothing circles against your scalp. "You do," he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You’re sittin’ here in my lap, all pretty and pouty, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you than I am right now."

"Stop," you huffed, your voice half a laugh, half a groan, but Joel just grinned.

"Not a chance," he said, tipping your chin up so he could see your face. His eyes softened as they traced over your features, lingering on your bangs. "These little things?" he teased gently, brushing them aside. "I love ‘em. Make you look sweet. Like you walked straight outta one of those fairytale books Ellie’s always talkin’ about."

You sniffled, the corners of your lips twitching as you fought the urge to smile. "You’re just saying that."

Joel’s brows lifted, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Baby," he said, his voice dropping to a soft rumble, "when have you ever known me to just say somethin’ I didn’t mean? You’re my girl. My beautiful, stubborn, perfect girl. And I’ll keep tellin’ you until you believe me."

Butterflies erupted in your chest, fluttering so wildly you thought you might float away. Joel didn’t stop there, though. He pulled you even closer, his nose brushing against yours as he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, one that left no room for doubt about just how much he adored you.

When he pulled back, his grin was softer now, but no less sure. "Now, how about we grab some dinner, and you let me keep braggin’ about how lucky I am to have you?" His fingers slid up to play with the ends of your bangs, his smirk returning. "Gonna have a real hard time keepin’ my hands off you, though. Fair warning."

You laughed, finally letting yourself melt into him, the last of your doubts fading under the weight of his love. "You’re obsessed with me," you teased, though your voice was soft and warm.

Joel chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Damn right, I am. Always will be."

[prettydaisygirl]

please more streamer james!! maybe he flies her out to meet in person and she’s off camera behind him during one of his streams and he can’t focus :)

Hello, my love! Thank you so much for taking the time to send me a request, I appreciate it! I am OBSESSED with streamer!James <3333 I changed it up a bit to have reader surprise James because I had an idea, hope you enjoy it lovie! :)

streamer!James Potter x fem!superfan!reader who surprises James at a convention ✿ 1.2k words

cw: fem reader, marauders as live-streamers, reader is obsessed with Prongs/James, James is in love with reader, established relationship, suggestive

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

previous part

Your whole body is shaking. Not from fear or adrenaline. From excitement.

You had just gotten off of your plane, landing in Los Angeles. Your boyfriend didn’t know, but you had bought tickets to his favorite convention to surprise him in person. James, as well as the other Marauders, have their own panel and meet and greet set up there. James doesn’t know that you bought tickets…

But Remus does. Since you and James have become more official, you’ve gotten to know the other Marauders more personally. When you came up with your brilliant idea to surprise James, you knew Remus was the one to go to. He helped arrange your flight, discussed the plan, and even arranged another room for you and James tonight so you don’t have to sleep with the four of them. He’s very sweet, and you understand why he has such a big audience. 

You get your things settled in your hotel room, checking your appearance in the mirror. You feel extra pretty today, and you’re relieved. You’re practically bouncing off the wall with excitement. Honestly, you’re worried you might have to hold yourself back from jumping James’ bones. 

You make your way to the convention hall, in awe of the different panels and booths. There are thousands of people here, some in costumes, some you recognize from their videos or streams. It’s amazing and overwhelming at the same time. 

Your heart stops when you spot it. The Marauders panel stage. You see the line of people waiting for the meet and greet, a small area to the side of the main stage for fans to stand with the Marauders, say hello and get pictures. Remus told you to wait to be last in line, that way you could get a few extra minutes with James. Remus really thought of everything. 

You wait in line, hood pulled up just to make sure James doesn’t see you before you reach the front. You watch the other fans in front of you, some of them girls that seem very excited to meet your boyfriend. You would feel jealous except you know James only has eyes for you, he’s very open with his feelings and affection for you.

The line moves slowly, but you don’t mind. You watch James interact with fans, adoring the way he smiles brightly for every single photo. The four of them really seem to care about their fans and supporters, you admire that. The closer you get to the front of the line, the more nervous you are. Your body trembles lightly with anticipation. 

You finally reach the front of the line, only for James to step away for a drink of water. You shrug at the other boys, who laugh brightly. Sirius even throws an arm around your shoulder. 

“You come all the way here, and he doesn’t even look at you!” Sirius calls out loudly to get James’ attention, but he seems focused on gulping water from his excessively large water bottle. He probably assumes you’re just another eager fan waiting for him, thinking you can wait a moment. 

“I know!” You say back to Sirius in jest, “Ridiculous!” 

It’s your voice that gets his attention. James’ head snaps in your direction, water spilling down his chin and over his shirt. He doesn’t waste another moment even closing his water bottle, tossing it down onto the table and running at you. He throws his arms around you, picking you up and spinning you around. You giggle happily, hugging him back tightly. 

“Oh my God,” James is breathless, and he leans down to kiss you for the first time. It’s perfect, it takes your breath away, and he tightens his arms around you like he can’t believe you’re really wrapped up in them. “Bloody hell, angel.” His words are muffled between kisses and the other Marauders wolf whistle at the two of you. You’re sure other fans notice, that they are taking pictures or recording, but in this moment neither of you care. 

He lets out soft moans into your mouth as he kisses you, his hands feeling anywhere and everywhere they can on your body. When he seems to finally be able to control himself again, placing several pecks on your lips before pulling away, he is completely lovestruck. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, cupping your cheek with both hands before one slides through your hair. His eyes take in all of you, and your arms are still wrapped around his back tightly. 

“Remus helped me get tickets,” You tell him, and James shoots Remus a thankful grin. “He got us a hotel room too.”

James’ lips part and he looks down at you. He tugs you close, brushing his lips over your cheek before he’s whispering in your ear. “I can’t wait to see what your boobs look like in person.”

You laugh out loud at his words, and James grins but his eyes shine with an obvious hint of desire. His lips are on yours again and you know the two of you are probably already trending.

You stay wrapped up in James’ arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other until he has to go on stage for the Marauders panel. He presses his lips to yours over and over again, not wanting to pull away. He keeps his fingers linked with yours until the very last second and as he steps on stage he calls out to you “sit in the front row!”

You do sit in the front row. 

James watches you with heart eyes full of adoration for the entire panel. The audience laughs when he gets distracted by you while answering a question. A few of the fans ask about you and James spends far too long answering those questions that Sirius or Remus have to cut him off. 

The internet is already shipping the two of you, it’s obvious how in love you are with each other. There are pictures of the two of you kissing and hugging that are trending, and girls are swooning at the way ‘Prongs’ looks at you. 

James hops off the stage the moment the panel comes to an end, gathering you in his arms again. His lips are all over your skin, his hands grasping at you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, relishing in the physical feel of him actually here in front of you. 

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” James says softly, and you nod. He slides a hand down to take yours, interlacing your fingers. He tugs you toward the door but pauses when Remus calls out for him. 

“Prongs!” James stops, turning back to look at his friend. Remus has a knowing look in his eyes and James grins brightly. “Don’t forget we have another panel in the morning.”

“Okay, Moony!” James calls back with a thumbs up, tugging you closer. He laughs loudly when Sirius calls out this time, his voice behind the two of you as you head toward the exit, hand in hand.

“Don’t stay up too late shagging!”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl

[pedrasacorn]

Daily dose of Sunshine 🌊

Jason Todd x reader

Description: It’s been four days since you’ve responded to Jason’s texts. You find that him breaking in to check on you isn’t as unwelcome as you initially thought.

A/n: I named it after the drama I was watching when I was really going through it. I wrote this during it, I needed the comfort.

Sorry for the lack of warnings—this one deals with fairly heavy topics on mental health, and depression but nothing intense. It’s fluff as much as it can be

It’s been nothing but silence in your apartment for days—Two knocks at your door, then three, and a soft kick. Jason had reasoned that no one kicks doors, so you’ll always know it’s him.

The clicking of your front door alerts you to him picking the lock. He has a key he chooses not to use; eccentric as always.

Steel toed boots are light, quiet against the wood; not silent. He’s making sure not to startle you; Jason learned the hard way it’s an easy to do.

A normal host would greet their “guest”, but the dark is a hug you dare not leave.

“Sweets?” The nickname usually brings about the feeling of a gentle caress to your heart, today it feels more like a squeeze.

He squats down next to your bed, he’s eye level with you when you finally see him. The faint glow from the hallway softens his gaze—not that he needed it to do that, the way he looks at you is always soft.

His eyes rake over your face pensively. “You gonna talk to me or am I playin’ a guessin’ game today?” Hatred bubbles up in your chest. Why can’t your heart be left alone to decompose?

“C’mon sweets don’ gimme that look.” His voice is a soothing balm to your soul even when your hearts still angry. You watch his necklace swing from his chest; like a cat with a string your hand reaches to hold it. Most enticing thing you’ve seen all week…maybe. He’s vaguely amused by it, mostly just itching to be closer to you, somehow the proximity of your hand near his heart makes it feel magnetized to you.

He checks your phone. All the missed texts lights up both his concentrating face, and your tired one. The smallest of coughs forces you to clear the roughness of your voice. You try spit venom at him, “I ignored you on purpose, Jason.” Though his name on your tongue lacks malice.

“Oh I know.” He smirks as he recognizes your displeasure, “What? You think the king of isolation wouldn’ recognize the signs?” He places down your phone in favor of thumbing over your cheek, cupping it gently. Your face—now the betrayer of your heart—nuzzles into his palm. “There she is…” He whispers. “What happened princess?”

The wheel of your emotions spins slowly, it settles on the line between apathy, and heartache. Tears threaten to make their presence known yet you have a lifetime of experience swallowing them.

Maybe that’s why the well inside is spilling over.

You blink rapidly.

“Jason….I never know what the fuck happens.”

His teeth catch his bottom lip. Jason isn’t unfamiliar with mental health struggles, but seeing you like this? When there was nothing to hit, and nothing to kill? Devastating.

“We’re gonna start with he basics, yeah? When was the last time you ate?”

You stare at him apathetically. He could do his best pathetic puppy dog act and you’d still refuse him even if he offered up your favorite foods.

He soaks in your expression. Quick to his feet he strides out of the room.

Your chest fills up with the sticky syrup of dread. He’s angry…he’s angry you haven’t eaten when he’s been dutifully reminding you—or maybe it’s because you haven’t texted him back—and he’s leaving you.

But it’s perfect right? It’s what you wanted, surely.

You resign to the darkness.

“Open your eyes. M’not letting you sleep ‘til you’ve eaten.”

You blink open your eyes, careful to rid them of tears.

“Can you sit up f’me?”

You stare at him.

“I’m takin’ that as a no…”

He sets down the bowl before sitting next to you. His strong arms are warm when they wrap themselves around you; it’s an almost hug, and almost feels good right now. He sits you up against him; you can’t help but melt into it.

“I was warm and comfy in there you know.”

“Yeah…and you were hurtin’.” His thumb strokes underneath your eyes, feeling the dew left behind.

Defensively you say, “I don’t know why I’m like this.”

“That makes two of us.” He halfheartedly smiles.

Despite knowing him well, you’re tempted with being obtuse. You’ve come to know him as someone who is naturally self deprecating, it’s too late to pretend like you don’t catch his meaning.

“I brought food already anyhow so if you don’t eat it I’ll eat you.” That pulls an almost laugh, hardly a breath from your nose.

Even with the reddening of his cheeks—proof he hadn’t meant the double entendre—he’s pleased with his ability to cheer you up, even a little.

“Pho. Extra beef’n there because I know you’re lackin’ protein.” Your wry look is overshadowed with fondness.

“You know what I like.” A tired smile pulls at your wary face. You can’t help it; he’s beautiful, and sweet, and all the things you shouldn’t deserve . “Please don’t make me eat by myself.” Shame digs its way into your chest. Only at your worst you would dare beg.

“No worries sweetheart.” The bed dips further under his weight as he settles the both of you into a better position. You cringe at the idea of you, and your room smelling like garbage.

You watch the soup.

He watches you.

The sweetness of it all crumbles your resplve, and you sob.

His soup warm hands cup both your cheeks, the gentle whisper of your name pulls your attention.

“I am not giving up on you.’’ His determination is weighty in your chest.

“I wish you would.’’

He says your name again—stern, but gentle all the same, “You think you can get rid o’ me? Huh?” His nose is a hairsbreadth from yours as he holds your gaze, “Try.”

Something inside you finally softens. It feels like the sunshine peaking through clouds. And then it’s covered again.

“Jason I don’t feel anything.”

He cups your face, pressing his cheek against yours, the barely there scruff is grounding.

“I’m okay with that.” He breathes deeply. “We’re not taking the easy way out, you and I.”

~

You haven’t finished your soup, but you’ve had enough beef, and micro greens to satisfy him. He finishes off what you don’t.

A stillness settles over the both of you.

“Sorry if I smell…odd.”

“Trust me,” he lays back against the mountain of pillows propped up on the headboard, leisurely crossing his arms behind his head, “No one smells worse than the goons of Gotham.”

You lay in your side, facing him. “Sounds like a band.” He smiles at you. You smile back until a yawn sneaks its way past.

“Listen. I can sleep in here with you, or you can lock the door, and I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ll even leave my lock picks in here. Take your pick.”

Your gaze snaps to his. You’re met with that unwavering determination again.

“Why?” You ask softly.

He scratches the day old scruff on his cheek.

“Because if I leave you alone…I won’t sleep sweatheart.”

“Are you sure I don’t smell bad?”

“Please. I’m the one that reeks of motor oil and gun powder.”

“And smoke…” It’s soft, and wistful the way you say it. You chew the inside of your cheek before deciding. “It’s…a comforting smell.” Your eyes are conveniently occupied with the ceiling when he looks over at you.

You gently scoot closer, like a cat towards the sunbeam of an afternoon. He lets you.

You gently pick at his sleeve, desperate to be close—desperate to keep your distance. “My mom smelled like smoke too…cigarette smoke. I know you don’t smoke often but it’s really not good for you.” You meet his gaze.

He shifts into a more comfortable position before replying. “I prefer to worry about your lungs, not the other way ‘round.”

“You know I never had anyone…during my darkest times no one noticed or uh…I mean I don’t mean to complain—they noticed they just didn’t have the bandwidth to be there. Plus it was my job to save myself it just would’ve been nice ya know?”

“Trust me sweetheart…I know.”

You pull his arm over your body, he gingerly wraps it around your waist, his hand slides up in between your shoulder blades. “Are you going to leave before I wake up?” You wait for what feels like too long before he says, “Someone’s gotta make sure you eat breakfast.”

“…th—” He cups your cheek, thumb pressed against your lips.

“You can thank me by callin’ me next time you need me—someone.” He catches himself.

“Okay Jay.” You whisper.

You settle against him, that feeling in your chest lighter.

“Goodnight, Jason.”

He breathes deeply, his body relaxing to the melody of your voice. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

His palm is strong, warm against your back. He sits perfectly against your frame in a way that convinces you to the right of indulgnec. Just this once.

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader talk about the future

based on this ask, feel free to drop some more too <3 warning: mention of pregnancy / pregnancy scare + vomit

They’d been back from Venice for nearly a month, yet y/n was still feeling the effects of travel. Drew had gotten over his “travel bug” in a week, the worst of it being a bit of a stuffy nose, yet y/n still woke up every morning like she’d been hit by a truck, her back stiff and head spinning with nausea.

“I’m gonna go pick up some breakfast from Claire’s. Usual, hm?” Drew said groggily, swinging his feet out of bed. Y/n turned over to face him as he shrugged on a pair of sweatpants before tossing on a hat over his messy, grown out hair. Y/n grinned and nodded, watching how Drew moved in the early morning sun that peaked through the curtains.

“Alright, I’ll be right back. Love you.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before heading out the bedroom door. Nearly as soon as she heard the front door close, y/n jumped to her feet and rushed into the bathroom, just barely making it in time before she threw up, her head pounding. She ran a hand through her bed head, smoothing it out of her face as she leaned against the wall of the bathroom.

Having enough, she pulled out her phone, scrolling through her calendar to see when she’d be free to go to the doctor this week. However, she could feel her already nauseous stomach drop even further once she noticed the red dot on her calendar from nearly two weeks ago…

“Shit.” She said aloud. She was supposed to have her period two weeks ago. That fact along with how awful she had been feeling the past month, with Drew feeling just fine, caused her mind to race…

“Shit!” Y/n shouted even louder as she started to clamor through the cabinet under the bathroom sink. She had bought a package of pregnancy tests months ago, always paranoid despite the fact that the couple was always very careful… right?

The two of them had talked before, and after getting married, they knew they wanted to have kids. It was something they were both excited about, in fact. But now? When Drew’s career was just taking off, she had just gotten a call-back from a project she was really excited about, a new season of Outer Banks was coming out, and countless other things plaguing their very busy lives at the moment? Now, she wasn’t sure.

She finally found the package, reading over it quickly, before using it. Y/n sat it on the counter, her hands trembling and heart pounding, before starting a timer for fifteen minutes. She stood there, chewing at her nails anxiously until she heard Charleston barking along with Drew’s voice. She had been hoping to be finished before he got back, to ready herself whatever the result may be before she had to face him.

“Breakfast is served!” Drew shouted from the kitchen. Y/n steadied herself for a moment, checking the timer again. She still had about ten minutes, too much time for her to stay in there without Drew coming to check on her. As much as she appreciated his attentive nature, right now she was cursing him and his kind spirit. With a deep breath, she went out into the kitchen. Drew sat at the bar, sipping his coffee and petting Charleston’s head.

“You alright, baby?” Drew said, his eyes scanning over y/n’s tension-riddled body. She shook her head, waving him off as she sat down next to him.

“Just still not feeling well. Headache.” Y/n said, taking a bite of the bagel Drew had picked up. She chewed it slowly, her nausea combined with anxiety diminishing her appetite. She took a sip of her coffee, the caffeine helping some of the pounding in her head subside but not helping in any sort to ease her nerves. Charleston sat his head on her lap, his eyes looking up at her widely. She rubbed his ears, smiling softly as the dog’s tail wagged.

“Did you take anything?” Drew asked, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“No, not yet.” Y/n said, looking back up at him. Drew wiped his mouth with a napkin before getting out of his chair.

“I’ll get you some ibuprofen.” He said, heading towards their bathroom. Y/n stayed there for a second, slowly eating before things clicked in her mind. She scrambled out of her seat, running into the bathroom.

“Drew wait—” Y/n turned into the doorway, but she was too late. Drew stood in front of the sink, his eyes trained on the small piece of pink plastic in his hand.

“You… you don’t think?” Drew said quietly, turning to face her, his eyes wide.

“I– I didn’t— I don’t know.” Y/n whispered, feeling her eyes begin to well up with tears. Drew placed the test back on the counter, wrapping his arms around her as she began to cry.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.” Drew said into her hair, his hands soothing her back. They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other's embrace, the only sound y/n’s soft cries until her phone timer went off. They stepped back from each other, y/n’s entire body shaking with anxiety. She was scared, terrified, of what was going to happen next. For them, their future… their family.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Drew said softly, placing his hands gently on y/n’s cheeks. She looked back at him, her eyes still filled with tears. Despite his stoic demeanor, y/n could tell Drew was probably as scared as she was at that moment.

“No matter what that says, I love you and we’re going to be ok, alright?” Drew whispered, his thumb soothing her tear streaked cheeks. Y/n nodded before looking towards the counter where the test sat.

We’re going to be alright.

Her heart pounded as she looked at the test: negative.

She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding, her body nearly falling to the ground as relief washed over her. Drew hugged her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Oh, thank god. I wasn’t— I didn’t—” Y/n stammered, but was interrupted when Drew pressed his lips to hers.

“I know, baby. Not yet.” He said as he pulled away, still holding her closely. He turned back towards the cabinet, digging for a second before handing her an ibuprofen. She took it from him with a slight laugh.

“Almost forgot the reason I came in here.” Drew joked, shaking y/n’s shoulders gently as they walked back towards the kitchen.

“Thank you, Drew.” Y/n said as they sat back down, taking Drew’s hand gently. He ran his thumb along the back of her hand, smiling back at her softly.

“Don’t thank me for anything. It was almost my fault you were in the situation in the first place.” Drew said, a smirk cracking onto his face. Y/n elbowed him, returning back to her breakfast with a grin.

“Well, hopefully the next time that happens we’re much more prepared.” Y/n said, chewing on her bagel.

“We will. Don’t you worry,” Drew said, kissing her hand softly. “Next time we will be much, much more prepared… and hoping for a bit of a different result.”

[soy-soi-si]

Imagine y/n having to join the team as a stand in for another person that was supposed to be there. And everything goes wrong.

Tw. angst, brief torture, injuries, death, past abuse, helplessness, reader almost dying. Foul language! Really crappy writing and not proof read prolly missing a few Tw's as well.

Y/n doesn't like the group at first. They seem patronizing, constantly talking about the person who was going to join. Constantly asking if you could actually do what he was supposed to. Hell even when she was completing the mission they kept checking on her more than each other even if two of them were under fire. She got so annoyed with Price after the genuine thirtieth time he told her the step by step of what she already did.

“If you keep fucking patronizing me I'll bust your balls Mr. Price is right. Now fuck off I'm already done.” She sighs at the deactivated bomb having completely gutted it and made sure it's not going to explode. Not to mention rescuing the hostages and securing the building and her section.

The laughter over comes echo's in her ear as she turns to the man it was strapped to as he cries out his thanks. She already checked him for weapons along with the other hostages; she untied them all and now has them in a corner taking cover just in case. Mostly women and a couple kids like three men including the one she saved.

She also deactivated the other bombs in her building and surrounding. “Christ sake your feisty lass!” she scoffs in response to soap, no longer looking at the civilians “You cunts have done nothing but baby and patronize me the entire time I've been around you. Sit and spin you big bitch.” The others chuckle at the end of the sentence.

“What am I sitting on again lassie?” she smirks “My fuckin 31cm dildo I'm gonna fuck you with later.” The cackles echo from gaz and roach. She hums before turning back to the civilians. “She's right about you patronizing her.” Ghost's voice echoes from the coms as a gunshot does as well. “my sector is clear.” She blinks as she hears movement outside.

“I think some strays came to my sector. I'm hearing stuff outside.” She raises her gun slowly moving to a window. She catches a peak of a huge group of the enemy surrounding her building. “I'm surrounded, there's easily a hundred if not over. Shit!” she notices one of them aiming up at the windows and she drops down. “these guy were not fucking anywhere near here until now…” she pauses as she hears one of the radios from the enemy in the hall and she crawls over to the door and she spots it sitting out front by the dead body and she grabs it closing the door again.

She listens to them moving to defend the hostages. “shit, they're telling everyone to come to my building!” She puts the other Radio against her mic. “Find the hostages, and the woman…” that's all she can make out before the window shatters along with an explosion. “take her alive and kill everyone else.” her ears are ringing as she sees someone coming out of the smoker and she shoots at them.

Searing agony sweeps through her after a second. She couldn't even tell she screamed as someone tackled her. “Get the fuck off of me!” Shooting them straight in the face then she shoots once at any movement she can make out the gun quickly clicking in response so she drops it pulling her handgun.

Then it's knocked from her hand as soldiers shoot at her from the doorway and it doesn't take long for her to realize she's on the floor surrounded by enemies. Each hostage she just saved gathered in front of her an executive guilt filling her body as each of them are made to look at her. She can't lift her hands or legs anymore in pure agony as the adrenaline is gone and so is each person she just met.

The seemingly leader steps in front of her holding a knife flipping it in his hand smiling as he crouches down to her eye level. She saw his picture and couldn't help but recognize him. “Hello there doll, you mind telling me where the pretty boy who was supposed to be on this mission is?” she glares at him. As he taps it against her neck, lightly cutting her skin each time. “So you've got Intel from our base. Sorry but he's fuckin dead. Died off base via a psycho girlfriend who thought he was cheating on him.” he takes a second before smiling. “Amazing news, pity I didn't get the honor though.” he cuts her wire. “But I'll make up for that with you pretty girl.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

She never wanted to die, at least not like this, not after lying her ass off about everything they wanted to know as they tortured her. She wanted to gloat in their face after what she said gets them caught and killed. But she could be proud at least at the wide eye angel personality and face she's pulling the cries and blubbering all fake.

“Puhluse I've told you everything!” She sniffles crying in agony, her eyes wide as she's pushed into a freezer, one you would have in a garage for wild game or fish except it's more like a transport cooler in size. The lid slammed shut over her and it's pushed into a hole of sorts crashing into the side then onto the small box beneath her.

“No, no no!” She tries pushing the lid up but it's heavier and heavier as dirt covers it. “FUCKIN BASTARD!” She kicks the lid, not even budging. She lays as she notices how cold it is here, probably freshly turned off.

She takes a few deep breaths as she knows she'll die in here sooner or later. She searches for her phone in her bra quickly finding it. Looking at the battery it's almost dead. “Shit” 10% she quickly shoots a text to her brothers group chat. A simple I love you. Before she calls the number one of the idiots gave her before they actually went on field. She desperately listens to the ringing before it's picked up. “Are you the Sargent!” She can hear the vehicle running. “Yes it's fuckin me! I lied to them about the information. They're headed for West Point and go get them! I want them to die for this!” She tears up knowing damn well she's setting herself up to die sending them away from her she bites her lip sniffling at the bright screen in agony.

“I’m sorry I fucked up big time. Just tell my brothers I'm sorry and that I love them.” “Y/n where are you.” Price's voice now echoes from the phone. “Dunno, but I'll be, I'll be.” she chokes back a sob at the words memories coming back as she looks at the lid above her. “I’ll be fine, just go get 'em for me. West point I sent them towards the dummy container and warehouse they're looking for weaponry.” her hands are shaking as the cold gets to her.

“Y/n breathe for me what are your surroundings like right now.” Gaz practically chokes out his question. “They buried me. You won't find me in time even if you look. Just go get them! Stop worrying about me and go get them! I didn't just go through torture for you to fucking fail on me!” She is starting to get sleepy as she switches her phone to the most battery saving settings she can. Sniffling, she looks at the phone. “Please tell him I love him and that I'm sorry. He's the, he's the one that was supposed to be on the mission he's my little brother,” laughing once she sighs, “Thank you for everything even if it was annoying for you to patronize me.” She smiles at the screen as Ghost goes to speak “we’re not going to-” it dies in the middle of his sentence, leaving her alone in the pitch black. She begins sobbing uncontrollably holding her phone in front of her wishing it was still on.

“N-no, ple-euase, I don-n't wa-auhnnt to digh-ie,” she can't breathe with how much she's choked up. “N, Noaut liku- ke, th-This-ss,” she's just getting more distraught by the second as all the composure she's been keeping until now is gone. She just sits there remembering her life, her recent life, then her childhood remembering how her dad would lock her in their freezer when he got angry.

“Da-Daddy please I don't want to die like this.” she can practically hear him scream from the other side as white spots appear in her vision. “Shut the fuck up you little whore!”

She reaches up barely able to feel her body as she knocks on the freezer like how she used to since it was against her and her siblings room. She can't even speak as she can't move anymore and she turns looking at her phone again in her limp hand.

I'm so sorry, I said I'd be fine on my own.

She didn't even realize she passed out not until her eyes opened again as sudden warmth hit her, let alone how it grabbed her neck. “She's alive!” Roaches' voice screams from above her as she's ripped from the freezing cold and put on the burning hot dirt of the outback. Someone pushed her onto her back doing chest compression then grabbing her nose before blowing into her mouth her head tilted back. Once then twice. Then three times as suddenly she gains control of her breathing, her head no longer as fuzzy as she chokes breathing looking around dazed.

She's rolled onto her side. “She's lost a huge amount of blood, the freezer floors full of it!” She hears roach climbing out as she lays her head on the dirt, unable to move besides shaking, noticing the early signs of hypothermia in her hands as they're almost blue.

“I got her phone to come on!” Roach and the second person here get in the back of the buggy and she notices finally it's a blonde man with a balaclava pulled down showing his scarred face then she sees the familiar mask on the top of his head and the tactical gear and she hears soap cursing in the front. “Patch her up already you fuckin bastards!” she looks at Ghost, feeling her tear stained face clearly along with her snot caked onto her. Seeing some on him from mouth to mouth.

He leans over her trying to wrap her head but she reaches up using what's left of her sleeve to wipe off her snot and tears off of him. He looks at her surprised but more so worried. “Aren’t you handsome, sorry about the snot.” her voice is barely there as her arm falls as she passes out again.

She didn't know scared older military men were her type.