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em1i2a3 · 25 days ago

Note

Bob and falling asleep on his chest while he reads to you??

Late For The Sky

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Bob have a nightly routine where he reads to you the latest book he’s decided to buy.

Warnings: No Warnings, just pure fluff

Author's Note: I really liked this request, and after a whole weekend of writing smut, I thought a nice little fluff piece would be great to start off the week. I’ve got a lot of pieces on my platter this week, and I’m really looking forward to putting them out for y’all ❤️

Word Count: 4,040

It started innocently enough–just Bob leaning against the threshold of your workshop at the end of a mission debrief, with a well-worn paperback tucked under one arm and a sheepish sort of smile playing on his mouth like he was teetering on being excited but nervous all at the same time.

You were hunched over your workbench, goggles pushed up into your hair, sparks spitting gently from a soldering iron in your gloved hand. The air smelled like burnt copper and machine oil, and your concentration was laser-focused–until you sensed that he was hovering.

You didn’t look up right away. There was no need to. You knew he would start the conversation in his own time.

”I, uh…” Bob cleared his throat, fingers drumming lightly on the book’s cracked spine, “I finished t-that one about the guy with the g-genetic disorder where he’s able to t-time travel but it’s at unpredictable times.” You paused what you were doing, and glanced over your shoulder, pulling your goggles off to look at him–and to also give the skin around your eyes a rest.

“Already?” You asked, with your eyebrows raised. You were impressed, because you had taken a stab at reading that book but it took you weeks to finish it–that was more due to you getting busy with repairs, not because you didn’t like that book itself. Bob nodded at you, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly, more confident now that he actually had your attention.

”Y-Yeah, I couldn’t put it down. I-I didn’t really like how it jumped around a lot at first b-because i-it was a bit hard to keep up with things, b-but once it really got into the crazy stuff and a-all the elements started coming together I r-really needed to see how it e-ended.” That was Bob when he talked about books. He never just read them, he sunk himself into it and got lost in it. He spoke with his whole body when he really got into the nitty gritty details about the story itself–animated hands, wide eyes, and that faint breathless awe that made you want to reread books or add them to your mile long list that you had barely touched because you barely had time.

Bob hadn’t always been this way though.

He used to pace the compound, and wear down the floors until it creaked beneath his feet. When he was still under mandatory observation. When he felt like he was in a strange version of purgatory where everyone treated him well but he felt imprisoned in the walls that were supposed to keep him safe.

You had been unofficially tasked with keeping an eye on him during those first few weeks–mostly because you were the only one not actively going on missions, and you were behind on fixing some tech for the compound anyways.

At first, Bob would just linger in the background–standing in the doorway with his hands tucked up into the sleeves of his hoodie, watching the blue sparks of your arc welder with the quiet intensity of someone afraid to ask if they could stay or if they could help. But you learned pretty quickly that Bob didn’t do well with silence. Not for long.

So one rainy Tuesday, when you were sick of watching him pace and sigh and pretend like he wasn’t bored out of his skull, you told him to get ready and you dragged him into the city–to your favorite secondhand bookstore.

It was tucked between a locksmith and an old bakery, it was the kind of place that smelled like cracked leather and warm dust, where the aisles were narrow and the ceiling was low, and where books were stacked in precarious towering columns that made the air feel scarce. You had told him to look around while you spoke to the owner.

That day you saw it–you saw something in him soften. It was like his muscles were unclenching somewhere deep in his chest. He walked through every aisle, pausing to brush his fingers over cracked spines like they were ancient artifacts. You’d glance behind you once in a while to check to see if he was okay, and when you saw his face buried in the first few pages of a book, you knew the choice to bring him there was a good one.

He left that day with three books, and then he asked you the next day to take him back there to get more.

Ever since that day, it had become his thing–tucking paperbacks into the crook of his arm, disappearing into them for a few hours, and then, without fail, finding you when he finished to divulge every last thought he had about them.

It didn’t matter if your hands were elbow-deep in fried wiring or if you were halfway through fixing tactical gear–if he finished a book, he needed to talk to you about it, and only you…Because you truly listened to him.

You didn’t nod along blankly or tell him to save it for later. You engaged with him, you asked questions and remembered characters’ names. You pressed him on parts that made him anxious or thrilled or tear up a little, even if he pretended like it didn’t happen. You didn’t tease him when he stumbled or stuttered over his words from excitement. You leaned in and gave him the attention he wanted, because in your own odd way, you needed those moments too.

You never said that out loud, but Bob could tell. He could see it in the way your shoulders dropped an inch when he entered the room, or the way your lips twitched when he fumbled over a complicated plot. He could see it in how you never asked him to leave.

Then one night you knocked on his bedroom door.

You were worn out. Bone-tired, yet you couldn’t sleep because of how wound up you had been that week. Your voice had gone hoarse from an afternoon arguing with Val over calibration specs, and you’d barely made it through dinner. Your plate had gone mostly untouched, more because you kept taking calls and arguing with whoever was on the other end of the line. Your eyes had looked sunken beneath the weight of the lack of sleep.

So to say he wasn’t expecting a knock on his door–let alone a knock from you of all people would be an understatement.

It was past midnight, and the compound was quiet–save for the rhythmic hum of the ventilation system and the soft creak of the page he just turned. His lamp was still on, casting a golden spill of light across his comforter and the open paperback in his hands, spine worn and corners curling from hours of reading. His tea had gone cold but he hadn’t noticed or cared.

The knock was gentle. Barely there.

He blinked himself out of his trance, frowning faintly, before reaching up to rub at his dry eyes. He let out a small sigh and set the book beside him like a loyal dog, half-forgotten for the moment, getting up from the pile of linens and duvets that surrounded him.

When he opened the door, it was like the hallway itself had gone still.

You stood there, barefoot on the wooden tile, wearing a pair of soft sleep-shorts and a baggy old Thunderbolts t-shirt from that one disastrous PR event last year–the one where everyone was forced into color-coded teams and awkward staged interviews. The shirt hung off your frame like you were a ghost, the cotton threadbare in places from being worn and washed too many times. Your hair was damp, like you’d given up halfway through drying it, and there were faint creases along your cheek from a pillow you hadn’t quite managed to fall asleep on. Bob’s brows lifted, as concern bled into his expression before he could stop it.

”Hey…A-Are you…?” He glanced past you instinctively, then at the digital clock on his nightstand that glowed dimly behind him, “Is everything okay? I-It’s pretty late, I didn’t think–“

”I couldn’t sleep,” You interrupted quietly, rubbing at your forearm. Your voice was still scratchy but it wasn’t as bad as it was during dinner time, “I thought I heard you…” You added.

Bob squinted at you, more confused than anything else, “Heard me?”

“Yeah,” You nodded faintly, a ghost of a smile touching your mouth, “Heard you laugh, or–or something that sounded like it at least.” He felt the tips of his ears go warm at your comment, remembering that about half an hour before you came he had almost thrown the book across the room in excitement because of how good the plot was getting.

”Oh…Uh…Yeah s-sorry about that. There was–t-there was a plot twist.” Your smile grew a little at that.

”No need to apologize,” You replied, “I’ve had those moments before. When something hits you so hard you have to squeal…Or throw the book out the window.” This earned a small laugh from Bob, as you leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed in the easy, tired sort of way that said you weren’t really in a rush to end the conversation any time soon. Your eyes flicked past him, just for a moment–curious, unassuming–but Bob caught it.

And then, you asked the burning question of the night.

”Can I come in?” Bob didn’t say anything at first, he just stared at you with a look of surprise plastered on his face, because he wasn’t expecting you to ask that, nor want that in general. After what was probably far too long, he stepped aside.

”Y-Yeah, of course.” You stepped past him slowly, and all your senses immediately started working overtime. The first thing that hit you though, was the smell.

It was Warm. Complex. Spiced, almost. Like cracked pepper and worn paper and the faded traces of his cologne lingering in the fibers of the room. It wasn’t overwhelming–wasn’t artificial or sharp–it was lived-in. Masculine in a gentle, quietly steady way. Like the soft base notes of cedarwood and clove that had sunk into the blankets and pillows mixing with the faintest wisp of black tea and honey.

It smelled like him, and it startled you–because you knew him. You knew his hands and his laugh and the way he stumbled through his excitement when he got overwhelmed. But stepping into his room felt like opening the cover of a book you thought you already read–only to find unfamiliar pages.

You had not seen the inside of his bedroom before. You had caught glimpses of it for sure. A cracked door when he was carrying his laundry. A half-glance from down the hall when he’d leaned into the doorframe to talk to you. But this–this was his inner sanctum and it was all of him.

There were books everywhere. Piled on the floor in loosely sorted stacks, balanced on windowsills, stuffed into a long shelf that sagged slightly under the weight. They ranged from battered sci-fi paperbacks with alien landscapes on the covers to dense philosophical texts and dog-eared literary fiction. A few comics peeked out from beneath the bedside table, alongside notebooks with half-tucked pens and sticky tabs poking from the edges like colored confetti. They looked damaged and battered, but it was from extensive use rather than carelessness.

The bed was massive. Not in a luxurious sense, but in a way that suggested someone needed space–maybe to move, maybe to breathe. The comforter was thick, gray-blue, rumpled from how he must’ve been lounging on it. A fleece throw was tangled near the bottom corner, and a pile of pillows–none matching–leaned against the headboard like they’d been shoved there without much thought. On the nightstand beside the bed there was a mug of tea on a heating coaster that was turned off–probably from being used for too long.

You turned back to him with a softer look than before, taking all of the little details in.

”This is pretty cozy,” You offered. Bob rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks going a deeper red now, suddenly sheepish and nervous that you were standing in the middle of his room at this time of night.

“Sorry i-it’s a little m-messy, I wasn’t really expecting–”

”No, no, it’s okay I meant that in a nice way…I wasn’t judging your room or anything.” Bob blinked at you, lips parting slightly like his brain short-circuited for just a moment. You could practically see the mental reboot happening behind his eyes.

“I actually came to ask…” You trailed off as you turned back toward the bed, brushing your fingers along the edge of the blanket, still warm from where he’d been lying. “If you had another chapter left in you.” Bob’s head tilted just slightly, his eyes widening, “Kind of thought you could read to me…Or talk me to sleep. Y’know.” The realization hit him like a gust of warm air straight to the chest, and his face felt like it was going to burst from how hot his cheeks were starting to get.

”Y-You want me to…Read t-to you?” He echoed, as if he was trying the words out on his tongue just to make sure they weren’t just a hallucination. You gave him a small nod, looking down at your feet.

“Only if you want to of course,” You said quickly, your voice gentle, in a casual way that always came out when you were asking for something that you pretended not to care about, “I just figured…You are always into the book and everything…And your voice is…Soothing. I thought maybe hearing you read would help turn my brain off.” Bob swallowed hard at the way you complimented his voice, how you found it soothing. He didn’t think that way, but it sure made his heart seize when you said it.

He had to consciously remind himself to breathe as you stood there, soft and sleepless in the dim light of his room, asking him to read to you like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like it didn’t unravel something in him to have you standing here, in his space, barefoot and tired and trusting him with the last moments of your day. He cleared his throat too quickly and nodded.

”S-Sure. Yeah, o-of course. I mean–I’ve never really done that b-before, but I could…I-If that’s what you want.” Your eyes met his, and they crinkled a little at the corners.

”First time for everything, right?” Bob gave a nervous laugh and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, motioning to the bed awkwardly.

”D-Do you…Do you wanna sit? Or–or I could make tea or something if that would help, I can warm mine up too–“ You shook your head gently.

”No…This is perfect,” You said, lowering yourself onto the edge of the bed with a quiet, grateful sigh “No tea…I think I just want…” You paused, fingers brushing the comforter again before you looked up at him with a soft, bleary gaze, “The chapter.” He smiled at that–small, crooked, and bashful.

”O-Okay…” You pulled your legs up under you and moved towards the headboard, settling against the fort of pillows he had made against the hardwood, while Bob grabbed the paperback and climbed in beside you. There was a bit of shuffling at first–he wasn’t sure how close was too close, or where to angle his body, or how to sit without making it weird–but eventually you both found the perfect positioning. He left a bit of space between you and him, about an arm’s length, and just like you he rested himself against the headboard, only he cross-crossed his legs.

Bob cleared his throat–too loud in the silence of the room–and adjusted the book in his hands, fingers curling slightly around the spine like he needed something to hold onto. His thumb brushed the crease between chapters as he flicked his gaze over to you again, nestled against the headboard like you belonged there, half-draped in the worn comforter.

“Okay…Chapter twelve,” He murmured, and began.

His voice was soft at first–shy, uncertain, as if afraid the words might shatter the quiet between you. But a few lines in, he found his rhythm. He always did. The cadence of his voice fell into step with the prose, rising and dipping in the right places, drawing the imagery to life as his thumb ghosted along the edges of the page. When he would take in a breath all he would smell was worn paper and your bay leaf and blueberry shampoo, and that felt like it was all he needed to settle himself.

Then–around three pages in–he heard it.

A soft exhale.

A breathy, wheezing little sound that made his voice falter for just a second.

Bob glanced over at you instantly, almost to confirm the inevitable.

Your head had tilted down toward your chest, mouth slack in the most exhausted kind of sleep. Your lashes rested on your cheeks, breath coming slow and just a little uneven, like your whole body had simply…Powered down. The sentence he had been reading drifted off into silence.

”Oh,” He whispered, more to himself than to you, “…Wow…You’re o-out.” He stared at you for a long second, book still in hand, watching the way your fingers were curled into the fabric of the blanket near your knee. You didn’t stir–not even when he gently reached over to the end of the bed and grabbed the lonesome blanket from the corner to settle it over your bare legs. You were deeply, and blissfully asleep.

And now he didn’t know what to do.

He glanced at the book in his hands, back at you, then sighed softly and reached for the top corner of the page. He dog-eared it carefully–marking exactly where he noticed you were asleep. Just in case you wanted to pick it up again tomorrow.

If you came back.

He closed the book, resting it on the nightstand, and stood slowly–carefully–like he was trying not to make any sound at all. You didn’t move. Your breath stayed soft and steady, and there was something about that that made Bob’s chest tighten.

He didn’t want to wake you.

So, instead, he grabbed an extra blanket from his closet and quietly padded out of the room, heading for the couch in the living room. It wasn’t as comfortable as his bed, and the cushions were flat–but he didn’t mind. He wanted to make sure you got some rest, and that mattered more to him than his comfort.

Much to Bob’s surprise you came back the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that.

Every time, the both of you got a little closer–a little softer. You started bringing a pillow from your own room, just for routine. You’d press your cheek against his shoulder sometimes as he read, and he’d try not forget what words were. Sometimes you didn’t even wait for him to start–you’d curl up under his covers like it was normal, and let your breathing even out, but he read anyway. For himself. For you. For the comfort of it. He never stayed after you fell asleep, he took refuge on the couch every time, and he’d be careful and quiet about his escape to make sure you didn’t wake up.

It became your shared ritual.

And then one night, everything shifted into place.

You came in quietly, curling up beside him, adjusting your pillow near his. Bob had his book open on his chest, waiting for you to get yourself situated, smiling at you like it was muscle memory. And without saying a word, you stretched out beside him–much closer this time–and gently rested your head on his chest, right over his heart. It was almost like you were silently communicating to him you wanted him to stay this time around, so you made it harder for him to make his usual escape.

Bob froze immediately at the contact, and at the warmth of you settling against his chest, the crown of your head brushing just beneath his collarbone. One of your arms snuck around his waist like it was second nature, and one leg curled over his like it always belonged there.

When you pressed your ear to his chest, his heartbeat was soft, steady and loud–embarrassingly eager to be heard by you. He looked down at you slowly, book still resting on his chest, his free hand clutching the edge of the page he hadn’t yet turned. You didn’t look at him–you were too focused, nestled in against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

”Wh-What are you doing?” You smiled into his shirt, just faintly.

”Want to read along with you,” You said, your voice soft and sleepy. He knew that must’ve been a lie, but he didn’t protest.

”O-Oh…Okay.” He murmured, shifting a bit.

Then, without lifting your head, you mumbled, “You can put your arm around me, y’know?” Bob could feel his breath stilling in his chest, and you heard the way it halted in his throat. You couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, almost like he had to process your suggestion.

Then he very gently, very slowly slid his arm around your shoulders. His fingers brushed the curve of your upper arm, curling lightly around you until he held you snug against his side, cradled with just enough pressure to let you know he wouldn’t let go.

You exhaled through your nose–peaceful, like the tension had melted from your spine the moment he touched you.

Bob’s heart was racing.

But his hand stayed steady.

You shifted just slightly to get comfortable, your forehead now pressed to the center of his chest, your ear perfectly aligned with the rhythm of his heart.

And God, the way you heard it–felt it. That low, thudding warmth beneath his ribs. Steady, slow, like a drumbeat underwater. A living lullaby. You could hear every flutter, every quiet catch of breath when he turned the page. It was stronger than the ventilation hum, stronger than the turn of the fan, stronger than the slow rasp of the blanket as you moved against him.

It was him.

The cadence of someone who had spent years trying to hold himself still–and was now unraveling just enough to let you rest against the places that hurt.

Bob picked up the book again, adjusting it slightly in his hand, but he didn’t start reading right away.

He was listening too.

To your breathing.

To the way your fingers gently fisted the fabric of his shirt like you wanted to keep him close.

To the stillness.

Then he began to read–low and careful. He didn’t project. Didn’t fill the room the way he did when you were sitting up and alert. He just read for you. For the closeness. For the moment.

You didn’t say anything. Didn’t shift.

You just listened.

And slowly, your hand went slack against his side. Your body softened. Your lashes lowered, then fluttered still.

You fell asleep on him, breath warm against his chest, face half-pressed into the fabric of his shirt like it was a pillow. You looked peaceful. Safe.

Bob didn’t stop reading right away.

He finished the page.

Then the next.

Eventually, he dog-eared the corner, turned the lamp off, and sank back into the pillows behind him, adjusting just slightly so you were fully wrapped in his arms.

He stayed.

For the first time, he stayed.

And when sleep took him, his last thought was simple, small, and true:

Please come back tomorrow.

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corinthianism · 5 months ago

Text

SOMETHIN' STUPID || VIKTOR

pairing: viktor (arcane)/fem!reader additional tags: viktor's pov, viktor is a certified yearner, maybe ooc, unrequited love that's actually requited, no physical descriptions for reader other than having dainty fingers and being shorter than viktor, hopefully correct use of czech pet names, barely proofread synopsis: the ever-brilliant viktor finds himself drowning in feelings for his colleague, so what does he do? bury them, of course.... until he learns that love is not something you can just ignore.

author's note: hello everyone! it's been a long, long while since i've written anything so i thought i would try and see if the ol' writing machine (aka my brain) still works lol. this is more of a blurb than anything so please go easy on me. also trying out something new by writing in present tense (lmk if it flows well!) viktor might be a little ooc but i'm still trying to fully understand him. hopefully my characterization of him in future fics (if any) will be more faithful to the viktor you're all familiar with. anyways, enjoy 2k words of viktor yearning like CRAZY 🫶🏼

Viktor doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. How many more times would your eyes meet from across the room at one of those parties he never really wanted to attend in the first place? How many more times would your fingers brush in the early morning, when he accepts the steaming sweetmilk that you so kindly got for him? How many more times would your laughter intermingle softly late into the night, when exhaustion took over and your writing started to look more like chicken scratch rather than letters?

He might just go insane.

How was it possible to want someone this much? Maybe he’s experienced something like this before, in tiny amounts, for people he hasn’t thought about in years. Deep down, he knows that even if he added all of those fleeting romances together, it would still only be a fraction of what he feels now. For you.

He can’t pinpoint that exact moment in time when everything changed. There were definitely a few of those moments that stood out more than others, but none of those instances were the catalyst for whatever this is. But they certainly don’t help his case.

A few words of encouragement.

A book recommendation.

A smile— so soft, so intimate, he briefly allows himself to believe that it was meant just for him. Something precious for him to keep, to be his and his alone.

In the dim light of the lab, he finds you asleep on your desk. The humming glow of the hex crystals leaves you blanketed in a gentle blue. He’s heard tales of this before, from when he bothered to listen to such things. It would happen just like this, they said: his heart would beat so fast, it threatened to leave his chest entirely. His skin would burn with something unmistakable, a feeling that left one in a state of simultaneous confusion and clarity.

He feels it all now and he finds it polarizing. It’s too much and not enough. He chases and runs away from it at the same time. A part of him wants it to stop, to go away and leave him forever for the sake of ending this game he’s painfully losing… but a greater part of him hopes that it will grow and grow to the point where maybe you’ll notice and do something about it. His palms get a little sweaty just thinking about making the first move. Symptoms of a lovesick fool.

The soft sound of your breathing quiets the pounding of his heart, prevents the wretched feelings from overflowing and spilling everywhere. Even if it was just for tonight. Tonight, he keeps his lips sealed, fights to keep himself from reaching for you. It would be unbecoming of him.

His eyes land on you again, observing how your head rested on your arms. Understanding hits him then, why you’re so bothered by seeing him stay at the lab so late that he ends up falling asleep. That position couldn’t have been comfortable. Of course, he knew that from experience, but it’s your comfort he’s thinking about right now. He wonders if this is what you felt whenever you woke him up and implored him to go home.

Surely not.

No, he can’t wrap his head around you possibly viewing that act the same way he does. Not when he wants to bottle this moment, wants to capture the preciousness of seeing you like this. It just can’t be the same.

So can you really blame him if when he finally rests a hand on your shoulder to wake you gently, he lets it linger there for just a little longer? An infinitesimal piece of time that he claims for himself. He never thought himself to be the sentimental type, but he cherishes it all: he cherishes the way you blink slowly as you returned to the waking world, and your tired murmur of his name that makes his chest tighten.

It’s just a wisp of a moment, never really tangible enough for him to hold in his hands, but he cherishes it all the same. It’s burned in his memory, in his very being, the same way everything else about you is. Every piece of you that you so generously gifted him.

“You should go home, darling.”

The word slips past his lips before he could even think about it. But he allows himself this one indulgence. He can’t help it. He’s always been a bit greedy.

“What time is it?” you ask.

“Far too late for you to be here,” he answers.

You huff out a breath of a laugh, “That’s rich coming from you.”

He finds himself smiling. How does someone manage to be so endlessly endearing without even trying?

It takes an embarrassing amount of effort for him to pull back his hand from your shoulder. Had you been more awake and had the room been brighter, he might’ve schooled his expression into something more neutral. Something to hide the unbridled adoration in his eyes. He doesn’t do that now. With the shield of darkness to protect him, he lets the mask come off. He lets his affection for you wash over him in waves. It would’ve been liberating, if it wasn’t for the tiny detail that that affection was unrequited.

Still, he says your name with utmost care. “You must go home and rest.”

To his surprise, you listen. You mumble a tired "okay” and gather your belongings, slipping on your coat. “You should go home, too, Vik.”

“I will. Soon. I just need to finish a few things.”

Your face twists into a frown, “No, you’ll do that tomorrow.” Before he can interject, you speak up again, “Just… come with me? It’s late and I don’t want to walk home alone.”

His brain refuses to reconcile with what his eyes see: the trepidation written all over your features, the way you clutch the lapel of your coat just a little tighter. He knows it’s a trap, you just want to get him out of the lab but how could he possibly reject the promise of a few more minutes with you? The chance to pretend, even if it’s just for those precious few minutes, that he was taking you home as someone more than a colleague? More than a friend? Only a fool would say no to you. Or perhaps he was a fool either way. He really must be going insane.

He says yes almost instantly.

It’s cold in Piltover tonight. It makes his bad leg ache more than it already does, and so his strides are a bit more careful. He doesn’t say anything about how you also slow down to match his pace but he appreciates your considerate gesture nonetheless.

The moon hangs in the sky big and bright, making everything around you seem softer. It’s picturesque. Almost romantic. He tries his best not to entertain that thought for much longer. Instead, he focuses on what you say to him so he could ignore the traitorous thoughts his mind conjures up and the way his knees were protesting because of the cold.

Conversation with you is easy— terrifyingly so. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when you first met.

Early on in the process of finding sponsors and securing funding, him and Jayce quickly realized that they needed help. Yes, Jayce is a friend of the Kiramman family. Yes, Viktor is Heimerdinger’s protégé, but they’re academics. At the end of the day, Jayce’s warm personality could only do so much when he was still greatly inexperienced with navigating these more political spaces and for all of his experience and perceptiveness, Viktor knows he’s no good at sweet-talking sponsors, either.

Enter, you.

Caitlyn Kiramman was the one to recommend you, her former tutor. Jayce was quick to back her up, remembering that you were also Academy alumni; a particularly strategic businesswoman. Viktor was hesitant at first, knowing that a third party could complicate things. Hextech was born out of the dream to help people. He worried that bringing business and politics (even though he knew it was necessary) into the mix would warp Hextech into something it wasn’t. Jayce convinced him to take a gamble, and it seemed that the potential of Hextech was enough to bring you back to Piltover from your travels across Runeterra.

It took him a while to warm up to you. You weren’t nobility, but most definitely well-off. Even more so after your years as a business consultant to organizations all over the continent. He respected you, sure, but Viktor had a hard time trusting someone who was so… privileged. How could you possibly understand how important it was that Hextech remained a beacon of hope for the less fortunate? Perhaps it was naive of him to think that way, as much as he hated to admit it.

But true to your reputation, you delivered exactly what they needed. You bridged the gap between Viktor and Jayce’s hopes for Hextech and the support they needed from sponsors, protecting them and their inventions from being taken advantage of.

Suffice to say, you earned his admiration.

Never in a million years would Viktor imagine that you would captivate his entire being, too.

It was daunting. Scary, really. Especially now that he’s beginning to understand the full extent of his affections. Years and years of burying that softness from his youth deep beneath the armor of his intellect— all that hard work diminished by a pretty girl. Gods, he really is just a man. Not even that. With you, he feels like a highschooler with a crush. It’s painful. Downright humiliating. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not when you link your arm around his, laughing at something he said. Was he really that funny? Probably not. He’s just happy to make you laugh.

“You don’t have to be nice about it. Salo is a grade-A asshole,” you grinned. “We both know it. If I have to spend another dinner with him present I might actually stab a fork in my eyes.”

He smiles, “Ah, but that wouldn’t save you from his incessant chatter.”

“I’ll stab the fork into my ears too."

“I might just follow after you,” he hums, “you’ll have to check if it works first, though.”

Your friendship blossomed when your visits to the lab became less for work and more for leisure. You wanted to visit, wanted to learn more about what he and Jayce were working on and why. Everything after that was just dominoes. You, with all your fiery passion and sharp wit, have become a permanent fixture in his life and now? He could hardly imagine life without you in it. You're one of his dearest friends and, much to his dismay, that makes his current predicament even more challenging than it already is.

Before he knew it, the two of you were standing in front of your apartment building— one of the most luxurious in Piltover. He could only imagine how much it cost, though he knew for certain that your penthouse probably barely made a dent in your wealth. He’s gotten somewhat used to your differing lifestyles, but he’s never completely able to not marvel at it. A gust of wind kissed his skin once more as he turned to look at you.

“This is me,” you say, gloved hands in your pocket and your lovely, lovely face framed by your hair and ruby red scarf. He recognizes it as the gift he gave you a year ago now. A spur-of-the-moment purchase on one of the rare occasions he was actually outside Academy grounds. He remembers thinking that the color would look nice on you. He was right. He finds himself holding onto the seconds before he has to go. “Thank you for walking me home, Viktor.”

“Of course,” he nods but the calmness of his voice don’t match the way his eyes bore into yours. “It’s only proper.”

“Proper?”

“Yes. Proper. I am a gentleman, after all.”

His accent comes out thicker, emphasizing the words more than he means to.

“I didn’t take you for someone who cared much about propriety,” you tease.

“Is it because I’m from the undercity?” he deadpans and he relishes in the look of horror on your face that replaces your grin.

“What? No!” you exclaim, smacking his arm when you realize he’s just joking. “You. Are. Impossible.”

A laugh bubbles out of his chest, “Oh, that’s cruel. You would hit a defenseless man? How heartless.”

“Shut up. That cane of yours is a weapon of war. Don’t think I haven’t seen you smack Jayce with it.”

“If I hit him with it, he probably deserved it.”

“Poor Jayce,” you laugh as well. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Viktor smiles.

“I do not think you could even if you tried, lásko."

He freezes and so do you. The laughter—the music—that you shared for the briefest of moments was thoroughly snuffed out, leaving you both in a silence that threatens to swallow him whole. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to speak so gently, but there is not a part of Viktor that could withhold this sincerity from you. Specks of the truth, of the confession he’s barely managed to wrangle into submission and lock away somewhere dark and unreachable.

He pulls back on instinct. He’s shown too much, said too much. You don’t move. He is petrified.

Your eyes widen and he sees his reflection in them, staring back at him. This is it, he thinks. He’s crossed the line and he’ll have to deal with the crushing blow of your rejection.

You manage to compose yourself and what you say next is… well, unexpected. Your tone is light, clearing the air and allowing him to breathe again.

“Do you say that to every woman or am I a special case? I’d hate to be part of a roster.”

He’s taken aback, but he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. You are a miracle in his eyes. Washing away his worries with a kind smile and a few choice words. He laughs again and this time, he doesn’t stop himself from speaking the truth. It’s now or never.

“Surely you know by now that you are singular,” he whispers, his accent a pleasant drawl in your ears. He takes a step forward. It is gravity that pulls him in, not the Earth’s, but yours. A force that he can’t help but be drawn to. Not that he would ever dare to resist it now that his fear has shrunk down to something a little less debilitating.

His face is inches from yours. You don’t move. He gets a little braver.

“I do not appreciate your implication that I would pay attention to anyone else,” his voice is low, honest. “As if anyone could compare to you. As if you don’t hold my very being in the palm of your hand. Miláčku, I adore you. Don’t you know that?”

There is a hint of pleading in his tone, begging you to understand the full scope of his feelings from those few words so that he wouldn’t unravel before you, a bundle of nerves and petals the same shade as your scarf.

“Say something. Please,” his fear rears its ugly head once more. “Say the word and we’ll pretend this never happened. I will remain your colleague and nothing more. A friend, if you would allow it.”

“What if I don’t want that?” you ask, your own voice a little shaky with uncertainty. Maybe it was also fear. That, he’s not quite sure.

Viktor doesn’t fully trust what he’s hearing, thinks it to be a figment of his deluded imagination, but his heart is screaming at him now to push forward.

“What is it you want, lásko? Tell me and it shall be yours.”

You're almost breathless when you finally respond, “You. I want you."

The world stills. Time itself screeches to a halt. There is only you and him, together in this moment that he knows will be woven into the threads of his soul. He has never known euphoria quite like this. He can’t name it yet, doesn’t know if this is love. He can only hope that it will be.

When he looks into your eyes again, he does not see his own terrified reflection. He just sees you. And the sheer intensity of your gaze that rivals his own. Have you always looked at him that way? Was he just too blind to see it?

“Do you mean that?” he finds himself asking. He has to— has to make sure that this is real.

You smile again, dainty fingers intertwining with his. It is a gentle smile, a hopeful smile that answers his question before you even open your mouth.

“I do,” your voice is so gentle and yet it squeezes his heart. “I’m yours, Viktor, if you’ll have me.”

He brings your knuckles to his lips, places a reverent kiss on them like you’ve given him the world. In a way, that’s exactly what you did. Maybe his lips were always meant to be on your skin, worshipping you like the goddess you are. It feels too natural for it to mean anything else.

And for the first time in a long time, he allows himself to hope.

“I would love nothing more.”

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane #fanfiction #viktor fanfic #x reader #reader insert #arcane reader insert #viktor arcane

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garymdm · 2 years ago

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Data Drift: How Does it Affect Your Machine Learning Model?

Across the globe, organizations are tapping into the potential of data to drive informed decision-making, streamline operations, and gain a competitive edge through artificial intelligence and machine-learning. However, amidst this data-driven revolution, a formidable challenge known as “Data Drift” looms, capable of exerting a profound impact on the performance of machine learning models. In…

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#data drift #data observability #decision-making #machine learning

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esote-rika · 5 months ago

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lose some, win some | Spencer Reid Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Hurt/Comfort, Smut 18+, MDNI Summary: COLLEGE AU! When your debate team loses the national championship, you and Spencer return to your shared room and find a productive way to take out your frustrations. Content: Waldorf!Reader is a sore loser, lots of dialogue in the beginning, Sassy!Spencer, some talk of misogyny, Spencer makes up for it by being a munch (so f receiving oral), virgin!Spencer but he’s also a little shit, they are both little shits but it’s cute I swear, handjob, raw p in v but reader mentions she is on the pill, creampies, multiple orgasms for both of them (they’re frustrated and horny give them a break) Word count: 4.8k (it's porn with a plot for once) A/N: Not really frenemies or rivals, they’re just really angry young adults. Idk what Spencer’s actual age was in college, but he studied several times so for this fic, he’s on his third degree and is 21. If the debate stuff is incorrect, I'm sorry. I did do some research but there's so many different rules and styles lmfao. My friend who competes says it’s fine and understandable so :) also massive thanks to @just-call-me-by-yn @mggslover and @notlongtolove for helping me brainstorm and @wheresmacoffee because she was there JK ILY ANDY their banter during the filthy part is for you <3.

Spencer Reid doesn’t particularly care about the prestige that comes with winning. Most people crave it for the validation, or because it’s another impressive thing they can slap onto their resumes, but being a genius his entire life allows him not to worry about that. His academics speak for themselves. He doesn’t need to pad it with extracurriculars. Instead, he enjoys the skills that are honed from debate—learning to listen to arguments, finding the perfect way to rebut, memorization and reviewing with like minded individuals. The university team is a well oiled machine composed of four people— him on his third degree, two other male juniors, and you, the only woman.

Over the span of two semesters, he’s memorized the quirks of his teammates. It’s essential to building rapport, after all, and he’s eager to get something good out of this. Something less academic, and more social. Friends, perhaps. While he’s formed a bond with the other members, you have always been an enigma. Stoic and ambitious, you remind him of a statue. Cold and oh so beautiful. You’ve often kept to yourself. And after several rejected attempts at friendship, he’s learned to just observe from afar.

He knows from experience that observing allows you deep insight into people, and so he knows after two semesters that you’re perhaps the most competitive out of the entire team, the most hungry for a win. This drive, he suspects, comes from a deeply rooted desire to prove yourself, though he’s unsure why. What else do you have to prove? You have everything, as far as he’s concerned. Keenly intelligent, beautiful, with a circle of friends that adore you. You aren’t like him, who has to sink his claws deep into this debate team in order to get a dose of social interaction. No, you have a life, no matter how marblesque you may seem.

And yet, somehow it’s still not enough for you.

He thinks it’s utterly ridiculous, and absolutely fascinating.

The weekend of nationals is taxing. You’ve been fighting for the opener role since the semis, but it would require too much adjustment, which no one is willing to risk so close to nationals. Not only does he not want to give up his spot, he also knows how ruthless you can be as a rebuttal speaker. He's meek, and you have a tendency to be aggressive, it's why the original roles go so well.

Your adviser agreed, and there’s been tension ever since.

To make matters worse, hotel arrangements somehow have placed both of you in the same room. The force of your resentment is palpable even to a normally clueless guy like him. Distracting. Pages being turned in your exaggerated annoyance. He’d complain of dramatics, but he doesn’t want to start anything.

The fact that you’re rooming together also doesn’t help him. Sure, there are different beds, small twin mattresses on either side of the room, but still. Proximity to a woman his age has him anxious for reasons entirely unrelated to nationals.

So when you lose the championship, his concern for your reaction behind doors overwhelms the regret of losing.

No one is happy with the results. It is obvious from the set of his jaw, the tenseness of your shoulders. Spencer tries to calm down, accept defeat with a modicum of grace, at least in front of other people. He can tell the rest of the team is trying too, but quite unconvincingly. Onstage, accepting the medals for second place—mockingly silver, and no trophies—the team’s smiles are forced, plastic.

Back to the hotel rooms are a different story. When you slam the hotel door shut, it echoes down the hall and makes even your debate adviser flinch. It would have made Spencer flinch too, if he hadn't already expected it. He's grown accustomed to how bad of a loser you can be. Like a tornado, your anger spares no one from its destruction. It is in these moments that your stoic resolve crumbles, no longer unfeeling, but rather fully human. Hurtful. Ruthless Unfortunately for him, he's directly in your line of fire.

He catches bits and pieces of your muttered diatribes. He’s used to those too. Normally, he would have ignored them. Losing sucks the energy out of a person, regardless of how uncompetitive he is. Besides, your ranting is mostly harmless, until one sentence snags his attention.

“— knew I should have been the opening speaker —”

He is clawing at his tie, trying desperately to get it off, but the words make him stop immediately. He whirls around, brows furrowed, “What?”

You pause as well, “What?”

“What did you say about being the opening speaker?” He watches you roll your eyes. It does nothing to calm the bitterness in the back of his throat. The normal song and dance goes like this: he’d say a string of words in an attempt to soothe the fire burning in your nerves, and you'd say something so vitriolic he'd refuse to speak to you for the rest of your time together.

But today, having just lost the biggest championship after working so hard, he's a short fuse and your words are incendiary.

“I said I should have done it, like I asked—”

“Ah, as usual, you're mad that you didn't get what you wanted.”

An offended scoff. He's almost proud he managed to pull that out of you. “You take too long—”

“Nationals isn't the time to suddenly alter the roles,” he tells you, shaking his head. He manages to loosen the tie, finally, tossing it on his bed with so much aggression it misses the mattress and lands limply on the floor, “I've always been the opening speaker.”

“Yes, and one would think that after going through so many debate competitions, you would learn to be more succinct,” you snap, shoes making harsh clacks against the tiled floor, “The goal isn't to let us know you're the smartest person in the room, Spencer, it's to set up the tone and groundwork of—”

“I don't need you to lecture me about being the opening,” he interrupts, “I know what my role requires of me.”

“Do you?” Eyes flashing, you walk to him until you're almost chest to chest, “Because we still lost.”

“And you blaming me?” he hisses, leaning down. He hates doing this, stooping to your level of pettiness. Normally, he would choose to be the bigger person, refusing your verbal sparring; he likes to focus his energy on the actual debate, the opposing team, not his own teammates. But your words cut deeper than normal; it isn't the fault the team lost, that's just a flat out lie, “We advised you multiple times to memorize the statistics—”

“Something you're better at!” You look physically pained to admit his superiority, but the words spill anyway, “You'd be so much better to do the rebuttals since you have your stupid photographic memory, and I can set the tone better, but nobody on this little boys club ever listens to me!”

He's surprised at the choked tone your voice has taken. In his mind, you're a complete equal—you made it to the team through hard work and impeccable skills, like the rest of them did, after all. It didn't matter that you are a woman to him, so of course his instinct is to deny. “That’s not true.” but even his voice sounds weak.

How would he know if it’s not true? He’s never been in your shoes before, never had to reckon with what comes with being the only woman in a team of men.

“Isn’t it?” he flinches at the venom in your voice, “You all act like I'm an afterthought—I get the shittiest positions even when I know I can be more effective in a different one, no one ever asks me for strategy, hell, you never invite me to your stupid chess games.”

His mouth opens and closes foolishly, latching on to the one thing he has a full response to, “I thought you hate chess.”

A sharp laugh, petulant and bitter, “I do, but it would have been nice to be included.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’ve turned around, yanking off your pristine maroon blazer so roughly he’s afraid it might rip. The silence that grows makes him itch, hands balling into fists as he tries to think of what to do. Social dynamics have always been a thing of mystery to him.

He wonders if he is part of this problem. He’s no stranger to feeling different and on the outs, and it pains him to think that he inadvertently caused someone else to feel that same, unpleasant exclusion.

But, no. Quickly, he recalls every single time he’s tried to include you—a museum trip that you’d declined because you had a party you wanted to attend. His extra tickets to the Nutcracker.

“That’s not true,” his voice is firm now, following you until he’s standing right behind. Lavender hits his nose and his brain registers the scent of your shampoo. Definitely too close if he can smell that, but he refuses to back away, intent on getting his point across, “That’s not true, I’ve tried to— you were always too busy.”

“What, I’m a liar now?” you spin around, pretty features twisted to somehow express both anger and hurt. He almost falters. Almost.

But he’s too worked up, even though he knows he should back off, to not trivialize your experiences in order to defend himself. He should know better than this, but the sting of your accusation spurs him on. So he pushes, eyes narrowing, “Last year, September 14, 21, and 29, I invited you to come with us for several casual chess tournaments, you declined all invitations because you claimed you hated chess. October 29th, I told you about the new exhibit they were displaying—”

“It was Halloween weekend, I already had plans—”

“December 19th, I offered you Nutcracker tickets and you said you’d already seen it—”

“I have,” your voice has grown quiet now, and if he stops speaking for a single moment to look, your features have relaxed into something gentler. But he’s on a roll, and you have always been right about things; his inability to be succinct is one of them.

“Even this year, I invited you to study multiple times, but you’ve always had prior plans,” the words are spoken with neutrality. He isn’t even angry anymore, just eager to list everything down and let you know how hard he’s tried with you. Even after the numerous rejections, he’s made an effort, but of course, you have other friends, other plans outside your nerdy debate team. He’s never held that against you, but if you wanted to point fingers, he has the means to defend himself. And sure, he wants to prove you wrong on some level too, but that’s the lesser point. “Maybe if you stopped acting like you’re better than me, and just accepted, you wouldn’t be feeling so excluded.”

“I don’t act like I’m better than you.”

“You just said you would have made a better opening speaker.”

You scoff, “Oh my god, you’re infuriating, I can’t believe I’m stuck with you!”

Spencer bristles at that, “I’m giving you the facts, it’s not my fault you can’t handle them.” he says, leaning closer, trying to make her see his point, “You’re always so closed off and the other guys have just given up trying. Maybe if you—”

“What? If I smiled more? Acted less like a bitch?” you sneer, eyes narrowed dangerously, “I thought a genius like you would know better than to use misogynistic language like that.”

“Wha— no! Don’t put words in my mouth.” Spencer replies, shaking his head. The conversation is devolving into something dangerous, the air crackling with something electric. He assumes it’s anger. They will never get anywhere, so he sighs, softening slightly, “I never said that. I’m just pointing out that you weren’t blameless in this, you know?”

You’re silent. He watches you, takes in how the resentment in your eyes have been dulled by something more contemplative.

He continues, “Listen, I’m sorry if we’ve made you feel like you were on the outs. I’m sure we have to do so much reflection as a team and as individuals about how we treat each other, but it’s unfair to say that we never include you when I have actively been making efforts to—”

Your lips are upon him.

That’s inaccurate.

You are upon him, arms flung around his neck, body pressed flush against his. He feels the entire world tilt, and he’s unsure if it’s because you’re pulling him down or because your lips are so pillowy he’s instantly eager for more. Wants it like a man starved. Needs it, needs more, but his body betrays him. Whether it’s his inexperience or surprise or a combination of both. He freezes, blinking rapidly at the sight of you. Eyes shut, and face so close to him; so, so close he can count each individual eyelash, see the tiny freckle on your eyelid that gets hidden if your eyes are open.

And then you're gone. The freckle disappears as you look at him with wide eyed mortification.

“Shit, Spencer, I—”

It’s his lips that cut you off this time, seeking out the velvety warmth of your mouth. Your lips part under his, and he registers a sound, soft and whining. It takes him a moment to realize it came from him, from the back of his throat and muffled by your lips and tongue and oh you’re both falling.

Literally. He must have leaned too far into you; you’re suddenly collapsing, forcing him down because your arms have him in a vice grip and he’s too busy chasing after your lips. The next thing he knows is he’s on top of you and you’re sprawled on the bed beneath him. Time stands still; he’s painfully aware of how cliche that is, but every sense of eloquence seems to have been expelled from his brain as he takes you in; lips swollen and wet from his kisses, pupils blown wide. Every breath you take pushes your chest up against his, and he can feel your heart thrumming against his body.

“Well, that was one way of shutting you up,” you chuckle with a cockiness that makes his heart speed up, though it isn’t borne out of embarrassment. Every single physiological effect of your body is evidence that you’re enjoying this, telling him you’re just as worked up as he is. The breathiness in your voice, the quickness of your heartbeat.

The fact that you’re pulling him down again, legs hooking around his hips. He surrenders to it, lips meeting yours once again, deeper and more desperate this time.

He closes his eyes, relishing this, kissing you, touching you, an act he had believed is reserved for attractive jocks and charismatic art nerds. Not him, quiet and lanky, shifting to avoid his angular bones from digging into you, and to place himself more comfortably on the bed. Inexperienced, ungainly, and yet here he is, his tongue pushing into your mouth in his first forays into something that his peers have experienced years ago.

Spencer Reid isn’t used to being the one behind, doing the catching up. Child prodigy, genius, the words aren’t meaningless. He’s been ahead academically—which, up until this point, has been his whole life. But feeling warm lips beneath his own has him reconsidering some of his life choices.

The kiss is messy. Sloppy from his clumsy attempts to keep up with your eagerness. You’re tugging at something, and he realizes it’s to untuck the rest of the crisp shirt you’ve donned for the debate tournament out from your skirt. His hands settle on your waist, finding smooth, heated skin from where your shirt has ridden up. Careful fingers help push it up, burying under the fabric until his palms are mapping out the slopes of your body.

Soft. So damn soft.

Not cold marble after all. He theorizes you must be soft everywhere, and he decides to test it out with his lips, laving kisses along your jaw, down the sweet, musky skin of your neck where your perfume still lingers. Instincts take over and he allows himself a taste, tongue darting out. You shudder, so he does it again, greedy for your pretty moans and gasps.

He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips, “Thought you were mad at me?” he mumbles, trailing his kisses down the column of your throat.

You’re all mhms and ohhhs right now, so far from the usual image you present to the world, a preppy, manicured woman who wrestles for control over everything. You must hate this, he thinks, being beneath him physically, caged within his arms which are deceptively strong for how fragile he looks.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

“Make me.” His grin is dopey when he lifts his head to meet her gaze.

Something brushes against his crotch, and now he’s the one gasping, jerking in surprise at the friction. You’ve slotted your thigh between his, and his traitorous body responds by grinding down on it shamelessly. The look on your face is smug, triumphant.

“Huh,” saccharine and mocking, you blink up at him innocently, “That was easier than I thought.”

His head drops to your neck again, but he isn’t kissing you anymore. Just open mouthed breathing as he rubs himself on your thigh, hands tightening on your sides, “Mhm.”

“Are you gonna come? Spencer, I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He sinks his teeth into your flesh to fight the needy whines because yes, he’s so embarrassingly close and you’re both still fully dressed. He hears a hiss, and he backs off immediately, murmuring apologies, “Didn’t mean to—”

“‘S okay,” you tilt your head back, give him more access to your neck, “Just don’t leave marks.”

Permission to bite. He gulps, heart beating wildly, before ducking back down. Chapped lips run over your neck, finding a soft spot to bite, forcing himself to soften the way his teeth sink into your skin. All the while rubbing himself on your thigh because it’s probably the closest thing to heaven a man such as him will ever experience.

He hears your laughter, your mocking cooes of, “You’re so fucking needy” but he can’t bring himself to care.

You’re correct, he decides, as you usually are. He’s needy, desperately so, eagerly chasing the delicious pleasure of dry humping your thigh.

“Hold on, Spencer.”

You push him back gently. A whine rips from his throat, “Mhm—why?”

He gets his answer soon enough. Your hands undo his belt and he swears this sets his whole body on fire. Nobody’s ever seen him like this. Never has another person touched him so intimately, seen him so out of control, so brainless. He’s babbling incoherently as your hand strokes up and down his length, his hips rutting into your hand. It’s out of sync. Two dancers on entirely different rhythms.

Your laughter rings in his ears, one hand tangled in his hair as the other does unspeakable, tantalizing things to his aching cock.

“Mhm, can’t— I’m gonna—” and he’s spilling into your hand, hot, viscous liquid overflowing from your hand and staining your skirt, “Ah, shit.”

He collapses against you, head on the crook of your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. “‘M sorry, I’ll– I’ll pay for your dry cleaning.”

Your chest shakes as you laugh, “Would you? I think you owe me more than that.” The heat in your voice makes his breath catch in his throat.

Soft kisses press upon your neck as he gathers his thoughts, willing his brain to work again. Anatomy, female anatomy. Female pleasure. What does he know about this? A lot, surprisingly, though mostly from books. Mostly in theory, but that’s a start. He can put them to practice right now. His hands drag down your sides until they catch the waistband of your skirt. “May I?”

“Okay.”

He pulls gently, exposing the rest of your thighs and legs. Honey brown eyes devour the expanse of your skin, hands clutching at the softness. He marvels at the way your flesh accepts his own, bright red splotches imprinted from his fingertips.

He thinks of poetry, the uncountable amount of words and phrases written to immortalize women and love and sex, and he finds himself wishing he has the skill to compose something as beautiful, something worthy of you right now, radiant and half naked and somehow all his.

But he is no poet, so he touches his lips upon your body instead. Pretty words will escape him, but his lips can speak even without them, he’ll make sure of it. He kisses down your abdomen, making sure to pay attention to every hidden freckle and birthmark he comes across. Your reactions make him feel drunk, to the point of affecting him physically. Messier kisses. Hands tugging and nearly ripping the lace of your panties because he’s unaware of his own strength.

“So pretty,” he mumbles, “So pretty.” It’s all he can repeat, but then his tongue lands on your slick heat and suddenly words are forgotten in favor of vague groaning. Because how can he accurately describe the sensation of this? Tasting you. God how has he gone so long without this? Your nails scraping his scalp, his fingers sinking into your thighs as he keeps you still. He’s halfway off the bed, legs dangling off the edge, your thighs squeezing his face.

There’s nowhere else he would rather be.

He laps at your folds like a mad man, tongue pressed flat and dragging up slowly to get as much of you in his mouth as possible. His feet find the floor, allowing himself more stability to once again rub his growing erection against a solid object. The poor mattress is going to be ruined once they’re done.

“Faster,” you gasp, jerking your hips into his face, “Spencer— oh, yeah like that!”

Spencer Reid is a quick study, and when he hears the positive reactions, he doubles down until he feels you convulse against his tongue. You jerk so violently he has to hold you down. He pushes his tongue past your entrance experimentally, and feels you tug roughly on his hair in response, gasping his name and God’s name in slurred phrases as you ride out your high.

It’s the hottest damn thing he’s ever experienced.

“Jesus Christ,” you gasp, and he has to repeat that ridiculous sentence again, because it’s true and he feels you deserve it.

“You’re so pretty.” He fears you might be some kind of magnet, because his lips keep getting drawn back to your skin. He lets his kisses travel up your hip bone, before grinning up at you, “Even when you’re being insufferable, you’re still so beautiful.”

“Gee thanks,” you huff, pulling at his arm, “How romantic, I’m swooning.”

“Might not be swooning, but you did just come on my face.” brilliant rows of teeth flash at you as he smiles smugly.

“Asshole.”

“Is that how you say thank you?” he drags his body up lazily, draping himself over you.

“I’m not— wait, are you hard again?”

“Uh…”

“Needy, needy boy.” you pull him down to you, and he almost protests, his chin and mouth still covered with your slick. But you don’t seem to care, so he follows your lead, God at this point he would follow you anywhere at all. You’re shifting beneath him, and the next thing he knows is your legs are wrapped around his waist again, your heat completely exposed and pressing against his cock.

“Mhm,” he pulls back, eyes wide, “I—”

“What?” you whisper, lifting your head to continue giving him kisses, teeth playfully nipping at his jaw, “It’s fine, I’m on birth control.”

“It’s not that,” he can’t deny you, his body relaxing back down over you. His lips catch yours for a moment, slow and achingly tender, “I’ve just never really done this before.”

He waits for the inevitable laughter. Here he is, at 21, and somehow still the same person he had been when he first entered college at 14. But you continue to look at him with heavy lids, breathless and flushed.

“Okay,” your voice is kind, sweet, “Take it slow then.” your hand wraps around his length again, the movement slower this time, as you align him to your entrance. He hisses as the sensitive tip grazes against your folds, as he feels your entrance slowly give way to him and envelop his cock.

“Oh,” he sighs. With your help, he sinks halfway into you, one hand gripping your hip, the other bracing himself on his elbow. Eyes squeezed shut, he stills and manages to ask, “Are you okay?”

You don’t speak, and so he forces his eyes to focus and look at you. The sight has him twitching inside you. Mouth agape and eyes hazy, you’re nodding up at him wordlessly as your hips rock up into his. “More.”

It’s exhilarating. He’s known you for the past year, worked alongside you but respected your need for distance. And now, here you are, not merely close, but one. Spencer sighs, and thrusts shallowly, eyes zeroed in on you and your reactions. He doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want it to end too soon, so he moves slowly, dragging out his cock until only the tip rests inside you, then sliding into the hilt.

It elicits the most mellifluous sounds from you, making him smile in relief. He lets his forehead rest against yours, thrusts growing more confident, but still in that slow, almost dreamy pace. He memorizes every detail of this moment, from the way your eyes flutter closed, to the quiver of your legs as they wrap tighter around his thighs.

“So good,” he hears himself say, “God, you feel so good.”

“Mhm,” you nod, nails digging into his back, even through his clothes. In the heat of the moment, you’re both still half dressed, only getting rid of your bottom clothes in order to get what you need from each other, “More, Spencer, I need more.”

He nods, letting his thrusts grow faster, rougher. It’s an awkward angle, he’s afraid his knees will start cramping, but the feeling of being surrounded by your warmth, drowning in your moans has him reckless. “There?” he grunts, angling just so, and he can’t help the smirk on his face when he feels your walls clenching around him.

“There, there, yes!”

He’s not sure how he manages to last as long as he does. Maybe it’s the sheer desire to feel you fall apart, for his cock to be drenched in your slick that keeps his release at bay. Maybe he has too much pent up sexual energy that’s just been dying to come out. Whatever it is, he’s thankful for it, because it means he’s spending more time inside you, hips moving with so much impact he’s pushing you forward with each thrust.

“Yes, just like that.” you’re shuddering beneath him, and he moves his arm to the top of your head, creating a barrier between you and the headboard so you don’t hit it. He could stop, readjust your positions, but he doesn’t have it in him.

No, he wants to stay inside you, forever if there’s an anatomically feasible way to do it. But unless he invents it, he’ll settle for right now, settle for the heat between your bodies, and how you’re practically melting into the mattress, arching so prettily against him.

“You close?” he murmurs, one hand finding your clit, drawing gentle circles with his fingertips.

“No fair,” you whine, bucking into him, “That’s cheat— Spencer!”

You come undone in the most enthralling way, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip bitten by your own lips. You squeeze and flutter around him, and he’s helpless to stop his own release, spilling deep inside you with a broken cry from his own mouth. Your name is whispered, over and over again, until he stills, his vision blurry as he collapses against you.

He curls around you, trying to get as close, “You—that was—wow.”

You giggle, still breathless and glassy eyed, “Are you sure that was your first time?”

“Yes,” he gives you a series of kisses along your temple, “Yes, it was. You—wow.” he carefully pulls out of you, hissing quietly when the cool air conditioned air hits his sensitive flesh. “Was that enough of an apology for not including you to our chess nights?”

“You’re making jokes now?”

“No,” he smiles, leaning away to look at you, all starry eyed and boneless, “Not a joke. Because if it’s not enough, I can do it again.” a kiss to your cheek, “And again.” one on the tip of your nose, “And again.”

When you laugh in response, he cups your cheek, “I mean it.” he says with all the seriousness he can muster.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Does this mean you’ll accept my invitations now?” he lights up, a large smile splitting his face.

“Only if it’s a date.”

"Then it's a date."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds x you #waldorf!reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #sub spencer reid #virgin!spencer reid #erika after midnight

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kaijutegu · 1 year ago

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Aug ABSOLUTELY deserves the praise, @ryukikit. St. Augustine Alligator Farm is one of my favorite animal facilities, hands down. It's a pretty zoo, doable in an afternoon if you kinda like crocodilians, or an all day affair if you REALLY like crocodilians. Here are my favorite things about it and why I think it's worth supporting.

1. They keep animals in interesting social groups.

Crocodilians are heavily involved parents, but most places that breed them don't have the enclosure space to let the babies stay with the parents. St. Augustine does. One of my favorite groups was their crèche of slender-snouted crocodiles. They had the parents and then a yearling cohort and a new hatchling cohort. This aligns with how these guys live in the wild- the babies stick around longer! They have the space for it, and they are very in tune with the social needs of their animals.

Very, very few zoos can keep their baby crocs with the adults and still perform maintenance and animal health checks safely. This doesn't mean these facilities are bad- it just means that they have different management practices. And frankly, a lot of these species aren't frequently bred elsewhere. Your average zoo doesn't need a setup where you can have a multiyear crèche for slender-snouted crocodiles. Some species have better success when the young are pulled early, and some zoos are better set up to raise out any offspring separately or behind the scenes. Every facility's practices are different, and this just happens to work well at St. Augustine and be really enjoyable to see as a zoo patron.

Crocodilians are exceptional parents and very protective. It's a sign of incredible animal management practices and animals that feel very comfortable with staff that St. Augustine can do this with nearly every species they breed.

2. They understand the social needs of their animals.

Some crocodilians are social. Some are solitary. Some can live happily with a member of the opposite sex but get territorial around members of the same sex. St. Augustine pays incredible attention to their social groupings to ensure that they aren't just meeting the animals' physical health needs but their social needs as well. They do continuous scientific research about social structures in crocodilians, taking blood samples to test stress hormones and observing stress behaviors to see how group dynamics change.

For example, St. Augustine is home to one of the world's largest known living saltwater crocodiles, Maximo. And his comparatively tiny mate, Sydney. During the educational presentations with these two, they point out that even their monster of a croc needs his social group- he won't eat if she's not around and he is calmer during medical checks if he can see her. These animal share a deep and special pair bond, and they make sure to talk about how the social aspect of these animals' lives is integral to their care. It's a unique aspect of the way they talk about these animals, because he IS a spectacle and he IS a sensation, but they don't talk about him like he's a mindless killing machine- they talk about him like he's a big, complex predator with social needs like any other animal. Aug is the only facility I've been to where the emotional and social needs of crocodilians is part of the education they provide guests- and speaking of education...

3. Their demos and presentations are extremely good.

The presentations at St. Augustine are some of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen literally hundreds of animal talks on everything from aardvarks to zebras. But as you... can probably tell from my blog content, I've spent a lot of time learning about and working with reptiles. I really enjoyed all of their presentations because they are very scientific about things and avoid sensationalism. They really want you to be fascinated by these creatures and love them- but more than anything else, they want you to respect them.

Also, they do a really good job handling their ambassadors. I really enjoyed something as simple as watching an educator tell us about snakes. Throughout the whole presentation she made sure that most of the snake's body was looped in her hand. The snake was always supported and was very calm. She gave the snake plenty of head room so that it didn't feel constricted- it was just good handling all around.

But also, the presentations made it clear how much the park cares about the animals' well-being. When they do the feeding and training presentations, they make it very clear that the animals' participation is entirely voluntary. They do things differently for their 9-foot saltie and their 16-foot saltie, because the 16-footer is so large and heavy he actually struggles walking on land sometimes. They adapt their programs and his care to ensure that he's completely comfortable- and he didn't actually participate in the whole feeding when I was watching! At no point did they try to push him into anything uncomfortable; they offered, he didn't engage, and they moved on. It was a clear expression of his boundaries, and I really appreciated how much his caretakers respected that.

4. Ethical Interactions

I've been to... a lot of tourist locations in Florida that have animals you can hold. Almost always against my will! Many of them are pretty terrible, and you don't actually learn much, if anything. But I really found that to not be the case at St. Augustine. Every single animal presentation and interaction opportunity was accompanied by education about the animal's biology, habits, and- crucially- their conservation status.

When I held a baby alligator at St. Augustine, the proctors- there were two, one to ensure I was holding the gator correctly and the other to educate- were very informative about the role alligators play in their ecosystem and their conservation history. The animals were all properly banded, and one of the two proctors was there to ensure that none of the baby alligators were uncomfortable. As soon as they started getting squirmy or tense, they were removed, unbanded, and taken to an off-exhibit area to relax. And when the babies age out of petting size, they just go in the lagoon to live with others of their species. I saw one upset alligator the entire time I was there, and he was clearly upset that his escape attempt was foiled by a keeper during my nursery tour.

Even though he's restrained in this shot, you can see that his full body and tail are supported, and the grip, while firm, is gentle. He's distressed, but after I took this picture, she put him in his enclosure and he calmed down immediately.

Sometimes when you have petting attractions with baby animals, those animals... don't have a happy ending. (See: cub petting.) But St. Augustine's program is fine- the gators are all aged out of wanting to have mom around, there's no declawing/defanging, and they're handled with care. And it's worth it, because people love what they understand. St. Augustine was integral in raising public awareness about alligators back in the 60s when they were endangered, and now they're thriving- largely in part to programs like St. Augustine getting people to care.

And speaking of getting people to care, let's talk about their research.

5. Shared Research Results

St. Augustine is also home to more species of crocodilian than anywhere else in North America- all of them, usually. (They didn't have a Tomistoma when I visited- that may have changed.)

Because of this species diversity, it's an incredible research resource. Having every species means that you can do a lot of work comparing their behaviors, their growth patterns, and more. They've been a major research site for crocodilian biology since the 1970s. Today, they're one of the key sites for studying crocodilian play and social behaviors. They actually maintain a blog where they post copies of papers that were written using their animals, meaning that you can actually see the results of the research your admission helps fund. You can see that right here: https://www.alligatorfarm.com/conservation-research/research-blog/

All of this adds up to a zoo that provides a unique experience, tons of actual education, and transparency about what its research and conservation steps actually are. St. Augustine's come a long way since its opening in 1893, and they really do want you to leave with a new respect for the animals they care for. Ultimately, if you're a fan of reptiles, you can feel good about visiting the St. Augustine Alligator Farm- their care and keeping are top of the line, they do a ton of innovative conservation research and support for conservation organizations, and you can see this animal there:

(Gharial from the front. Nothing is wrong with her that's just what they look like from the front.)

#long post #st. augustine alligator farm #alligator #crocodile #reptiblr

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seospicybin · 1 year ago

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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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