#like audibly and immediately burst out laughing

[amyisherenowitsokay]

I am honestly so pumped

LMAO

[jaesnympho]

warnings: roomate!hee, heeseung forces reader to watch herself in the mirror, fingering, size kink, shy yn, sir & daddy kink, squirting, praise & degradation, pussy slapping, dacryphilia

💌: first post hehe

heeseung, your roomate, walked through the door of your guys shared apartment and immediately bursted into your room with no announcement, causing you to jump and mess up your eyeliner.

"what the fuck heeseung!" you yelled, leaning closer to your mirror and looking at how there was now a hug line of eyeliner across your eye that led to your side burns.

"oh shit, i'm sorry." he said with a grin on his face, laughing at how silly you looked right now.

"it's not funny," you said angrily.

he came to stand behind you and started to play with little strands of your hair, to which you didnt mind, because this behavior was normal.

"you know you're really pretty, right yn?" he asked, crouching down behind you.

a warm feeling suddenly took over your body and you got a bit nervous, "mhm.. thank you, hee." you said quietly.

he finally sat down behind you, your back falling against his chest.

"are you about to leave to go somewhere?" he asked curiously.

"no," you said back, earning a small smile from him, to which he mumbled a small 'perfect' under his breath that you could barely hear.

a few seconds passed by before he grabbed your jaw and made you turn your head to look up at him, "can i touch you?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your face.

before you could let the shock sink in, you nodded, but he wasn't satisfied with your answer.

"use your words little girl." he said firmly.

"y.. yes sir, you can touch me." you whispered.

"that's my girl." he said before turning your jaw back to face yourself in the mirror, "don't take your eyes off yourself."

his hands started slowly caressing your plush thighs, squeezing at them softly. you let out a small gasp, barely audible, but he heard it.

his fingers itched closer and closer to your inner thighs, your heart rate getting faster and faster, and your body growing warmer.

"h-hee.. please.." you whispered, your needy voice making heeseung let out a soft moan of his own, his pants getting tighter by the second.

"please what baby?" he teased.

"please, please touch me daddy." you begged, squirming in front of him.

he smiled at the fact that you called him daddy; he was definitely gonna embarrass you for that later. "good girl, you'll get what you want now."

his hands spread your thighs farther apart, his fingers running over the smooth fabric of your panties, earning a small, needy moan from you.

your wet panties stuck to you like a pair of leather pants, your wetness spreading all over the fabric the more heeseung kept rubbing your clit through the thin fabric.

more moans erupted from your throat and you grabbed heeseungs arms.

"you're already a moaning mess and i haven't even put a finger in yet? cute." he chuckled.

"n-no, hee, please, i need it, need you." you begged, desperately grabbing at his arms in attempt to get him to do anything, just anything to satisfy your needs.

"alright alright, i won't tease you any longer, you've been a good girl, i think you deserve it." he smiled at you through the mirror, and you nodded eagerly.

he moved your skirt completely out of the way and pulled your panties down your legs, putting them in his pocket, he didn't plan on giving them back.

his fingers went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you whimpering and whining all over his lap.

he finally let a finger sink into your tight, warm little hole and almost moaned at the feeling of you clenching around his digit. you on the other hand, threw your head back into his shoulder, moaning his name over and over again.

"keep your fucking eyes on the mirror bitch." he said and slapped your pussy twice, earning a loud cry from you, the pain quickly turning into pleasure.

your head turned back to face the mirror and you looked at your face; your makeup would surely be ruined by the end of this.

your slick was leaking out from your hole onto the floor, to which heeseung found it so so so cute that you got so wet from him degrading you, he never knew you got off on being called a bitch.

suddenly his fingers jammed into your hole, fastly pumping them inside you as he watched how your legs started to shake from the overwhelming amount of pleasure that hes giving you with just his fingers, which makes him wonder how you'd react with his dick buried so deep inside you his tip touched your cervix.

"mmph, daddy!" you moaned loudly, your cries echoing throughout the apartment.

"yeah, take it like the filthy little slut you fucking are." he said harshly, watching as your chest heaved up and down.

his other hand reached up to unbutton your sweater, letting your titties pop out of the fabric from the lack of a bra.

he started to fondle with your titties, listening as your moans got louder and louder until you started letting out silent moans, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and all you could hear was the sound of heeseungs fingers pumping in and out of your tiny, wet hole.

"i know baby i know, daddy makes you feel so good, doesnt he?" he whispered, smiling at you through the mirror.

"so good hee, please d-dont stop!" you whined, tears streaming down your face by this point.

his fingers reached places you never knew existed within you. you couldnt go this deep with your own fingers, so this was like a whole new world for you.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your toes curled, clenching around his digits as they kept jamming into you, crying out his name.

heeseung could tell you were gonna cum soon. he could tell by how tight you were clenching around him that this wasnt gonna be a normal orgasm either.

your moans went silent and your body jerked backwards towards heeseungs chest. suddenly all you knew was your mirror was drenched.

you had squirted. all over your fucking mirror.

heeseung was in shock, as well as awe. he had never made a girl squirt before, let alone his roomate that he secretly adored.

your face felt warm, and you just knew he would make fun of you for this later.

"i didnt take you for a squirter.." he said and let out a small laugh.

"oh shut up! ive never done that before!" you defended, crossing your arms in defeat.

"its okay, it was cute." he giggled, smiling at you.

you rolled your eyes and pulled your skirt back down, embarrassed of your current appearance; your makeup was now fucked up, your hair was frizzy, your panties were missing, and-

"oh, look at that, your eyeliner got messed up anyway." heeseung said. and with that he got up, letting out a chuckle as he left your room, leaving you a fuming mess that hoped this would somehow happen again.

[twistyfish]

Oh I don’t know if that’s what you usually write for request but what about MC dying (once again) and just before dying she remembered everything from their past lives and the lads men’s reaction thinking they failed MC again

hi! i tried my best with this one because i’m not caught up on all the lore, so please bear with me. i took it in a slightly different direction

prompt~ mc dying.

content warning for death and violence

Zayne

Zayne groggily rolled over in bed, his outstretched arm bumping into the bedside table. He winced in pain, rubbing his wrist. He picked up his glasses and put them on, sitting up slowly so as not to wake you from what was very clearly a deep sleep, seeing as you weren’t awake yet

He cringed when the mattress squeaked, and his eyes immediately flashed to your still form. You didn’t budge. Good. He gently swept off the covers and stepped into his slippers, brushing his teeth and getting ready for the day.

After a cup of coffee and a banana, Zayne returned to the bedroom to kiss you on the forehead before driving to work.

***

Zayne came back from the hospital and set his things down. He washed his hands and headed to the bedroom, eager to change out of his scrubs. He opened the door and was surprised to see you still in bed.

You hadn’t been showing any signs of feeling down lately, so this was a surprise. Maybe you were taking a nap? He wondered if he should let you sleep.

It was very silent. All he could hear was the distant hum of the air conditioner. He didn’t even hear your usual light snoring.

He walked in front of you and bent down, hesitating before patting your shoulder. He patted it again before shaking you.

Oh, so you were being difficult. He picked up the blanket and threw it off you, revealing the lower half of your face. It was still and pale.

He leaned in closer and realized something very, very critical.

You weren’t breathing.

His heart rate spiked and he immediately pressed his ear against your chest, because maybe he was mistaken. Maybe you were breathing and he just couldn’t hear it very well. Or maybe you had some undiagnosed sleep disorder where you temporarily stopped breathing. Maybe you would wake up gasping for air in a few seconds.

But he didn’t hear or feel any movement at all, so he stabbed his fingers against his phone to dial the ambulance, and told the operator what was happening with a foggy brain. His voice was hardly audible by the end of it. He knew exactly what information they needed, but he couldn’t seem to remember it. Your address, your age, your full name.

Who cared about all of that? That was all useless information. All that he cared about right now was that you were dead. His partner was dead. And he hadn’t been there for her.

Sylus

Gunshots rang out, the noise of bones cracking permeating the air while bulletproof glass broke into a thousand shards. Sylus sprinted through the room and into your destroyed cell.

He hadn’t opted to send Luke and Kieran to bring you home. He had to do it himself. He knew the fuckers wanted him to show up, but he paid no mind. He had to see for himself that you were okay.

But what he saw made his stomach drop into his shoes. You were sitting in the corner of the room, chained to the wall. Your head was lolled onto your shoulder, your eyes gored out and your arms covered in burns. No. No. No no no no nonono-

He fell to his knees with a painful thump. The only thing he could bring himself to do was hold his stomach and vomit up bile. Seeing his lover like that ruined him. It destroyed him, made him want to cry and scream until the Earth was flooded and everyone’s eardrums had burst.

So when one of the men on the floor laughed weakly at Sylus’s grief, he shot without a second thought.

Nobody’s life mattered anymore. The person whose life he cared about wasn’t here anymore.

Rafayel

The air was hot and dry, and you looked beautiful with pearls of sweat dripping from your chin and collecting on your collarbone. You were wearing a flowy green dress and little teardrop earrings.

Rafayel’s eyes were fixed on you, even while you crossed the streets. The smooth curve of your back, your soft, bare arms. You were so undeniably beautiful.

He loved going on walks with you, and he was thrilled that you both had been able to take a week off for holiday. He rarely got to see you in such a light, beachy setting.

It had been around thirty minutes of walking, and you seemed to be getting a little out of breath. This surprised him, because your job consisted of a lot of movement and high energy combat.

“You’re not getting out of shape, are you Ms. Bodyguard?” He teased. “How are you gonna protect me if walking around gets you breathless?”

Your shallow breaths continued, which was a little concerning.

He stopped walking. “Hey. Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned now.

You shook your head. “I don’t feel good.” Your breaths were getting quicker and shallower, and you doubled over. Your hands were on your knees, and you gagged. Rafayel bent down next to you, and before he knew it you were swaying and then you had fallen. He barely caught your head as you went down, his knuckles scraping the pavement.

“__? Hey! Hey, hey, wake up!” He was rapidly tapping your cheek, praying to whatever deities were out there that you would get up and walk it off.

“We need help! Please, my girlfriend is sick! We need help!” He shouted. A few locals rushed over and called for help, but he was inconsolable.

After emergency surgery and two days in the hospital, he was informed that you were braindead. He didn’t say anything. He booked a flight home and sold all his paintings.

He never painted anything again.

Xavier

No. Not this. Anything but this. His shaking hand brushed bloody, matted hair out of your face.

“Stay calm. Backup is here. I’m going to take you to get medical attention,” he said in a voice that was calmer than he felt.

“Xavier.”

“Don’t talk, you’re expending unnecessary energy.”

“Xavier, I’m not going to make it.”

“Don’t fucking say that.” His facade was cracking.

“I love you. I should have said it before, but I love you so much.”

“__, please-,”

“I’m so grateful that you’re my partner. You’ve been there for me through everything and I don’t want this to be it for you.”

“No.” His voice was small, like he was pleading.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was already breathy and shrinking in volume. But the intensity was the same. The character was constant. You would die a fighter.

“No, please, I’m not ready. I can’t do this without you,” he choked, pressure building up in his nose. His eyes started leaking, and he felt nauseous.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And that was the last thing you heard. Xavier pressed his forehead into your chest, and it killed him when he felt no rising or falling. It was just him and the night.

He looked up at the stars, and he swore he saw your face.

[pupkashi]

love comes easy when it’s gojo

a/n: what are you guys talking about chapter 236 ? the manga ended a while ago lol they’re all happy and safe ! don’t be silly guys >.< (I’m deep in denial no one hmu)

wordcount: 728

masterlist

loving satoru gojo was easy.

it was easy falling in love with him when you first began talking to him, stolen glances and flushed faces when either of you caught the other.

it came to you like second nature to play along with his jokes. your minds practically syncing up the second your eyes connected, silly grins on your faces as you both cracked dumb jokes.

there was something almost instinctive that had you intertwining your fingers with his, the tv on the show now background noise as satoru practically lay on top of you.

“what should we get for dinner?” you mumbled, half paying attention to the action on the screen, eyes landing on the mop of white hair in your lap.

satoru hummed, adjusting himself so that he was on his back and staring up at you, “want me to cook?” there was a smile playing on his lips as you pursed your lips at him.

“depends” you smile, “what is chef gojo gonna cook up for us tonight?” the smile on his face was evident now as he sat upright.

“maybe some instant ramen?” eyes glimmering as he speaks up again, “im feeling a bit fancy so how ‘bout i add an egg in there too.”

“an egg? you spoil me satoru,” you tease, watching as satoru pushes himself off the couch, stretching a bit. the bottom of his shirt lifts a bit and you catch his lower belly, smiling to yourself.

“oh but when you bend over i can’t whistle at you?” he pouts, catching the way you were practically giggling.

“satoru we were in a meeting with the higher ups,” you retort. the sorcerer only scoffs, mumbling something and heading into the kitchen.

it was easy to love satoru when he was carrying you out in the pouring rain, a cheesy love song blaring through his phone speakers in his pocket.

“dance with me!” his dimples peeking out and his eyes crinkling a bit as he laughed at your now soaked shirt.

you want to be angry, you want to scold him because he just got over the flu and this is gonna be terrible for him. but the small droplets of water collecting at the end of his white hair and sticking messily to his forehead make you keep your mouth shut.

you don’t say anything as you extend your arm out, giggling when he quickly pulls you into him by the waist, immediately pressing his lips onto yours, teeth hitting each other as the two of you burst into giggles.

“cyndi lauper is your go to?” you laugh, barely audible over the downpour surrounding the two of you.

“it was either her or whitney houston ” he smiles, turning his infinity on when he sees you shiver in the slightest, being sure to include you in it.

it was easy loving satoru gojo when he was shampooing your hair, kissing your shoulder and wrapping warm towels around you.

it was easy to fall deeper in love with him when the two of you are in bed, sweet nothings being interchanged between the two of you.

“i love you, angel boy,” you whisper, loving the way his cheeks grew pink, the grin on his lips growing as he nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck.

“i love you more, sweets” his voice is softer, more vulnerable, than usual. there’s nothing on his mind except you, and there’s nothing on yours except him.

it’s when the two of you are making breakfast together, movements flowing easily as he passes you the eggs and he plates the pancakes. when you’re both sitting way too close to each other on the huge couch in the living room, pillows and blankets surrounding the two of you.

when you hand each other things without even uttering a word. when you sit in rare silence with your lover, the comfort of each others presence being enough for the two of you.

when he’s bringing home flowers or you’re making him his favorite foods, when you’re blushing at his shower of compliments and he’s running away the second you call him handsome.

it’s in between laundry loads and making plans that you both realize how easy love comes to each other.

loving satoru gojo was easy, especially when you fell in love with him all over everyday.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[cailinsblog]

Soft Side of Rafe | rafe Cameron

Rafe Cameron x reader

I have never written for him so I hope you like this

Masterlist

It was a warm, breezy afternoon in the Outer Banks, and the group had gathered at the Cameron family’s estate for a casual hangout. The boys—Topper, Kelce, and JJ—were lounging by the pool, laughing and tossing a football back and forth. Meanwhile, Y/N was sitting with Sarah and Kie on the patio, their soft laughter and chatter filling the air.

Rafe Cameron, the usually tough and aloof figure among the group, was nowhere near his usual antics. Instead, he was cradling his five-month-old daughter, Lilly, in his arms with a tenderness none of the boys had ever seen. Dressed in a tiny sundress, Lilly cooed and gurgled, her chubby little hands occasionally reaching out to grab Rafe’s nose or his shirt.

Topper was the first to notice. He nudged Kelce with his elbow, nodding in Rafe’s direction. “Dude, look at him,” he said, grinning. “Rafe freaking Cameron, Mr. Tough Guy, all gooey-eyed over a baby.”

Kelce snorted, glancing over. “It’s like he’s a completely different person,” he said. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

JJ, lounging on a deck chair with a soda in hand, shook his head in disbelief. “I gotta say, it’s weird seeing him all...soft,” he said, though his tone was teasing. “I mean, he’s talking to her like she’s a princess or something.”

“Because she is,” Rafe shot back without even looking up, his voice surprisingly calm and unbothered. Lilly let out a tiny squeal, and Rafe’s face instantly softened as he gently rocked her. “Isn’t that right, Lilly? You’re Daddy’s little princess.”

The guys erupted into laughter, but Rafe didn’t care. He kissed the top of Lilly’s head, his focus entirely on his daughter.

“Man, you’ve gone soft,” Topper said, shaking his head. “Who would’ve thought?”

Rafe finally looked up, his signature smirk back on his face for a moment. “You’re just jealous,” he said, holding Lilly a little closer. “Because I’ve got the cutest baby and the hottest girl.”

JJ laughed, tossing the football up and catching it. “We’re just not used to seeing you like this, bro. All lovey-dovey and stuff.”

Rafe shrugged, unfazed. “Yeah, well, get used to it,” he said, flipping them off casually with one hand while keeping Lilly securely cradled in the other. The boys burst into laughter again, but it didn’t bother Rafe in the slightest.

He turned his attention back to Lilly, who was now staring up at him with her big, curious eyes. “You’re so pretty, just like your momma,” he murmured softly, his voice barely audible over the background noise. His thumb gently brushed against her cheek as she let out a tiny yawn.

Rafe glanced over toward the patio, where Y/N was sitting with Sarah and Kie. She was laughing at something Sarah had said, her face lighting up in that way that always made Rafe’s heart skip a beat. She caught his eye for a moment and gave him a warm, knowing smile before turning back to the conversation.

“You see that, Lilly?” Rafe whispered, his eyes still on Y/N. “That’s your momma. The most beautiful girl in the world.”

Lilly responded with a happy coo, and Rafe chuckled softly. “Yeah, I know. We’re both pretty lucky, huh?”

After a while, Y/N excused herself from the patio and walked over to Rafe, her eyes immediately softening at the sight of him with Lilly. “Hey, you two,” she said, leaning down to press a kiss to Rafe’s temple. “How’s my favorite duo?”

Rafe looked up at her, his expression filled with nothing but love. “We’re good,” he said. “Just telling Lilly how lucky we are to have you.”

Y/N smiled, her heart melting. She reached out to gently stroke Lilly’s head, her touch tender. “Well, I think I’m the lucky one,” she said softly.

Rafe shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “Not a chance,” he said, his voice low but firm. “It’s us.”

The boys, still watching from a distance, exchanged amused looks but didn’t say anything further. It was clear that this side of Rafe wasn’t just a phase—it was who he truly was when he was with his family.

Later, as the sun began to set, the group gathered around the fire pit. Rafe sat with Y/N on one side, Lilly nestled in her arms. The boys continued to tease him every now and then, but it was all in good fun. And every time they did, Rafe just smiled, knowing he wouldn’t trade his life for anything.

Because at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron wasn’t just the tough guy everyone knew. He was a dad, a boyfriend, and a man completely and unapologetically in love with his little family.

[lidiasloca]

a crush on azriel

azriel x reader

PART THREE

(you can read it as a standalone aswell)

here's part two

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

“Take my hand.”

A dream.

The warm light greets your half-opened eyes, making you run your hand across your sleepy face.

“Morning,” a sweet voice welcomes you into the day.

“Az? Where are you?” you murmur, moving your arm across the bed, unable to see much with only that sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtain.

“Here, baby,” he whispers, placing a warm hand on your back and guiding you closer to his side of the bed.

As you crawl toward him, Az extends his arm to fully open the curtain. You immediately squeeze your eyes shut, unable to bear the brightness. His lazy laughter fills the air, and you finally pry your eyes open. But before you can scold him, you're taken aback by the sight.

“What?” he asks, adorably smiley.

“Your face…”

“What about it?” He pinches your waist, but your mind is elsewhere, fixated on the familiarity of his face.

The dream.

“You were in my dream,” you whisper, which only piques his curiosity further.

“Oooh,” he laughs. “Was I now?”

You nod, recalling the embarrassing dream. Actually, more than a dream—it had been your unconscious mind reminding you about…

“About what?” he presses on.

You shake your head, your cheeks heating.

“Oh, yes, you will tell me,” he commands, gripping your waist tighter as he pulls you closer. But you keep shaking your head.

“I can’t,” you mumble. As a last resort, he makes a pouty face. “No, Az. It’s too embarrassing. And you… sort of already know.”

“What do you mean I already know?”

“Well—we’ve already lived it…”

“The dream?”

You nod again.

“Give me a clue, love. We’ve lived through many things.” And you know you’ve lost the battle when he cups your face with his warm hands and pleads, “Please?”

“Ugh, alright,” you mumble, glaring at his victorious smile. “It was about the first time we met.”

He’s silent for a moment. Then he bursts out laughing, making you flush even redder.

“Sorry,” he says between laughs, seeing your flustered face. “But do you mean the day Nyx brought you home? That party?”

“Yes, of course. The day we met, Azriel,” you mutter, embarrassed, wishing the conversation would end.

“Oh, Y/N—that was the funniest day ever. Remember how nervous you were?” he laughs.

“Yes, I remember.”

“And do you remember why?”

You shake your head, trying to suppress your own laughter. It’s hard when his smile is so infectious.

“Oh, yes, you do remember,” he teases.

But you keep shaking your head, leaving him no choice but to tickle you until you give in. “Alright! Stop. Az! I surrender.”

“So tell me then, why were you so nervous, love?”

You sigh. “Because I had a crush on you.”

“Yes, you did,” he smirks, full of pride. “You had a crush on me.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, hiding under the blankets.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed about it,” he says, trying to find you under the covers.

“How could I not be?” you mumble, barely audible.

“Well… because I had a crush on you too.”

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

a/n: well i kinda did somthng diferent with this one - maybe odd, but i really hope you like it nevertheless. i defenetly love it to be this way, cute and lovely and yeah haha. thanks for reading. oh and, yet again, pls send requests :))

@username199945

@going-through-shit

@scarsandallaz

[ineffableoutpost]

Steve Harrington on BookTok

Older Steve who downloads tik tok and begins to make book tok videos without ever having read much. Instead, he makes it like a collaborative book club where his followers suggest books and after he gives them his review.

At first people love him bc he’s this cute fifty year old man with glasses and a husband who was a famous metal star in the nineties and early 2000s. Then there are other people who give him the Pedro Pascal treatment of calling him “daddy” and thirsting for him. Steve shuts that down immediately.

The popular first request was the LOTR series and Steve has to apologize and say that his husband reads them to him and has been doing it for decades now.

Then comes Harry Potter and Steve is a little apprehensive because the author is a piece of shit. But he does read them and has a mini obsession over it.

Then he moves on to other books, and then the queer community of booktok finds him and begin requesting a bunch of queer books. Steve cries while reading The Song of Achilles, but loves it.

Then, they make him read a book full of smut, and Steve makes a video halfway through the book where he’s like;

“You guys are making me read porn!” You can clearly hear Eddie cackling in the background

- - -

Steve makes a special series where he and Eddie purposely read shity books and laugh along the way. (Colleen hover makes many appearances)

*reading about the two characters laughing at their baby’s balls*

Steve: *speechless*

Eddie: *speechless x2* and gay people are the problem?

They look at each other and burst out laughing

- - -

Steve making another series with Nancy and Robin where they look at how some male authors write female characters.

Nancy: *reading* her breasts jiggled excitedly as she descended the stairs

Robin: *laughing her ass off in lesbian*

Steve: *also laughing along*

Eddie: *pops his head into frame* I, for one can account this as true. Steve’s tits do jiggle excitedly

Eddie stitches the video with an old home movie where Steve is running down the stairs shirtless, and his tits do in fact jiggle

- - -

Steve makes a video with Eddie where Eddie explains how he annotated his books and shows his oldest copies of the hobbit and LOTR.

Then there’s a small clip of one of Steve’s annotations in one book and it says “slay”

Cut to Eddie laughing asking where Steve got that word from and how long he’s been using it secretly in his annotations.

- - -

Steve gets an opportunity to partner up with audible or some shit to make a small collection of his favorite books into a subscription bundle.

He’s so excited when he also starts seeing bookshops make a little table with a sign saying “Steve’s Favorites”

He’s so exited because reading and books was something he hated for so many years, but also something he managed to turn positive.

Some stores also display a “Steddie Favorites” with the LOTR series and some of Steve’s selected books.

[icyminghao]

let me take care of you

pairing: husband!seungcheol x pregnant!fem!reader genre: fluff, drabble warning(s): mentions of food word count: 0.7k

summary: seungcheol has been acting uncharacteristically nice to you, and you’re not sure why.

a/n: for seungcheol’s day <3

“Cheol?”

You hear faint but chaotic sounds of rustling coming from your shared bedroom as Seungcheol bursts out of the aforementioned room shortly after, practically bounding to your side by the couch like it was an emergency. “Yes, darling?”

You giggle in pleasant surprise at his antics. “What do you want to have for dinner?”

“Anything you want, honey, I’ll order it,” Seungcheol takes a seat beside you and grabs your hands in his, rubbing small circles on the back of your palms.

“I was thinking of cooking tonight,” you purse your lips in thought, “What do you think of pasta?”

“No!” Seungcheol raises his voice a little, flinching at the volume before flashing you an apologetic smile. “I mean, no, you shouldn’t cook tonight. If you want pasta, I can cook it for you.”

You laugh at Seungcheol’s adamant tone. “Cheol, you’ll burn down the kitchen. Let me do it.”

“Nooo,” Seungcheol whines, shaking your hands as he lets out the cutest pout. “If I can’t do it, then let’s order.”

Your lips stretch into an amused smile at Seungcheol’s absurd behaviour.

“Okay,” you reply, admitting defeat to Seungcheol’s sheer stubbornness. You move to get up, and Seungcheol immediately sets you down.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks, his eyes widening in alarm.

“I’m… thirsty?” you reply with a question, utterly confused at Seungcheol’s behaviour.

Seungcheol’s mouth forms an ‘o’ at the realisation, before he removes his hands from yours to practically sprint into the kitchen. You’re dumbfounded in equal parts confusion and amusement at this point, turning around to see Seungcheol frantically grabbing a mug and pouring water out of a jug before quickly but carefully making his way back to you.

You take the mug from his hands with an eyebrow raised, but Seungcheol doesn’t seem to notice. “Thank you, Cheol.”

Seungcheol hums in acknowledgement, simply watching you with endearment as you drink from the mug he took for you.

“Oh!” you exclaim, moving to get up again, “I left the book I wanted to read on my table.”

“Wait!” Seungcheol sets you down immediately again, moving to get up himself, “I’ll get it for you.”

You’re left absolutely stunned as Seungcheol paces to your shared bedroom immediately, before returning with the book you wanted to get, slightly panting but looking as cute as ever as he stands in front of you, holding out your book with two hands and a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Thank you…?” you’re more than uttterly confused at this point as you take the book from his hands. Seungcheol grins even wider, moving to take a seat beside you gleefully. You look on the situation with a perplexed expression, unsure of how to explain Seungcheol’s weird behaviour.

“Cheol, what’s gotten into you?”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen, and he simply smiles sheepishly in response. “Nothing…?”

You raise an eyebrow in skepticism, your lips stretching into a small smile at his horrible attempt at lying. “You’re unusually nice to me today.”

“Can’t I be nice to my wife?” Seungcheol reasons, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. You stifle a giggle.

“Cheol…”

Seungcheol simply pouts even more, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he turns his head downwards to avoid eye contact. He murmurs something barely audible, and you furrow your brows in confusion. “Huh?”

“Jeonghan scolded me and told me to treat you better since we have a baby on the way,” Seungcheol mumbles, still not looking into your eyes. You smile even wider at the mention of your mutual best friend.

“Cheol…” you place your mug and book on the coffee table and reach up to cup his cheeks, squishing them a little. “You’ve always been treating me well. There’s no need to treat me any better just because I’m pregnant, okay?”

Seungcheol lets out a whine, protruding his bottom lip in an adorable pout that makes you just want to coddle him.

“But I want to take care of you…” Seungcheol leans into your touch and sulks, eliciting a huge, amused smile on your face.

“Well, there is a way you can take care of me,” you beam at Seungcheol, and his eyes widen in anticipation.

“Cuddles?”

Seungcheol grins. How could he ever say no to you?

a/n 2: this was kinda bad i’m so sorry 💀

taglist: @slytherinshua @xomingyu @belladaises @pepperonidk @tastymintchocolate @smilehui @dahliatopia

masterlist

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen dance in the rain with their s/o

requested by anon !

masterlist

seungcheol

you have to drag this man out of the house bc there's no other situation where he'll be willing to be out in pouring rain. like, if it's raining after a date, then he's covering your head with his jacket and running to the car. if you're due to go out but it starts pouring, then he's convincing you to stay inside. cares about your health way too much to willingly go out and get sopping wet, but it does make him smile ridiculously wide when you finally drag him outside and spin and laugh delightedly while the rain gets in your eyes. definitely picks you up and spins you around, loving the way you sound so, so happy. 

jeonghan

it takes a while, but if you beg for it enough, then he'll let you pull him out into your backyard to dance in the rain. after that, though, he complies pretty easily as you both giggle into each other's shoulders, stepping on toes and squeezing hands and when he lifts you into the air, you can't help but let out a squeak and immediately stumble into his chest again, laughing. whispers out a soft “i love you” against your lips and before you can say it back, he's following it up with “you're the craziest person i know” and it has you laughing, so utterly in love with this man that let you drag him out into the rain. 

joshua

spur-of-the-moment thing, but it ends up being one of the most precious memories you share with him. you can't remember why you were out in the rain in the first place, or who initiated the dancing, but before you know it, you're both dancing in the summer rain as the sun shines down on you and the rain is wet on your shoulders. the entire time, joshua's eyes are shining as he stares at you, and he dips you so delicately before pressing the softest kiss to lips. he tastes like rain and love as he rights you again, and that moment is what confirms that you truly have fallen for him, completely and utterly. 

junhui

he's kinda concerned bc you catch colds very very easily, and dancing in the rain with wet clothes sounds like a good way to get sick. it takes minimal wheedling from u tho before he eventually agrees, and it's such a sweet moment, for all of five minutes, until it somehow becomes a tickling match and he's chasing you down the nighttime street, wet hair getting into his eyes as he catches you in his arms, refusing to let you go as he presses ticklish kisses all the way down your neck, the rain cold against your skin but his lips warm as they find yours again and again

hoshi

it's his way of cheering you up when you go on holiday to thailand only for it to be pouring with rain every day that you're there. dances along the wet sand, the sea whipping around your ankles as you stumble and jump together across the shore, and his laughter is audible even above the crashing waves and the battering rain. is this very dangerous? maybe, but his hand is tight in yours as you spin together, feet digging into the sand, and the rain is tacky against your skin but everything calms when his lips find yours and you can feel the way he's positively vibrating, bursting with happiness and love for you

wonwoo 

it's raining when you're on your way home after an evening walk through the park, and you're eager to rush home so that you're not out in the rain for too long, but someone trips and then somehow you're in his arms and suddenly he's twirling you around, faster and faster and now you don't wanna go home anymore, the rain getting in your eyes and your mouth as you laugh, and wonwoo’s laughing too, so beautiful and alive and you wanna live in that moment forever. dancing in the rain with him is more just spinning constantly in dizzying circles, and somehow that makes it all the more wonderful. 

woozi

highly unwilling bc it feels so awkward, so he just laughs as you skip through the wet streets whilst walking back from a date. that is, until you pause in your spinning to look back at him, eyes shining, and he knows that you wanna drag him into it too. he's laughing in embarrassment, covering his face, but he eventually complies because he loves you too much to actually say no. does an endearing little shuffle dance that you join in with before he gets too embarrassed and grabs your hand before speeding down the street to get the two of you both home asap

minghao

he's all “are you really asking what i think you're asking” when you suggest it to him, but it somehow ends up being the softest, most romantic dance known to man. it's all because it's minghao, really. no matter what the situation, he cradles you so delicately in his arms, nose nudging affectionately against yours, and the rain is merely a spectator to your gentle love as it creates little rivulets through your hair when you pull him close, smiling against his lips. he'll inform you that you're both gonna get a cold tomorrow when you finally go inside, but the smile is warm on his face too. 

mingyu

literally the picture perfect boyfriend and this typa thing is no exception. takes your hand and guides you through the steps of some random waltz to imaginary music, even though the rain sometimes gets in his eyes and makes him yelp. tries to get out a cheesy speech of how much he loves you but you're giggling too much for it to be a serious moment. definitely picks you up and spins you around way too many times, dipping you towards the floor as you shriek and cling to his shoulders before he captures his lips with yours for a kiss

dokyeom

runs out onto the empty street with you on his back, screeching about the rain getting into your eyes before he deposits you into the middle of the midnight road, the tarmac wet and gravelly under your bare feet, but he's grinning like a maniac as he leads you through the fastest, most chaotic dance known to man in the rain. you can't help but end up shrieking with laughter as he lifts you into the air, spinning you around again and again before you wrap your legs around his waist, take his face into your hands and kiss him, soft and warm. you've never loved him more than you right now. 

seungkwan

“like… like those aesthetic tiktok couples?” very excited. he adores every minute he spends with you, and this moment is also not an exception. the most delighted, and keeps freezing up accidentally when you laugh bc you just look so beautiful like that and wow he's so lucky to have you. tries to take a video of the moment but the rain gets on his screen and messes it up :((( it's still a fun experience though. that is, until he gets inside and realises just how freaking chilled to the bone he feels rn because dang who knew that being out in the rain could make you feel cold?? not him. would definitely do it again tho. for you only. 

vernon

looks at you like you're utterly insane when you suggest going out of the caravan to look at the rain. your caravan trip isn't exactly going well with how constantly it's drizzling, and one night when you're fed up with the weather, you take him by the hand and bring him outside, bc there's no way that a little rain will deter u from making the most of the trip. it's cold, and the ground has become all squelchy-muddy under your feet, but he holds your hand tightly as you splodge through the mud for a few moments before leading you back inside, making a mug of hot chocolate for you both

chan

is so, so, so willing to dance in the rain with you. he's playing the part of an overly chivalrous gentleman even as the rain gets in his eyes and he's fumbling for your hand as he tries to kiss your knuckles. he will genuinely dance with you, holding you in his arms and teaching you where to put your feet, spinning around and around with you until eventually it devolves into the two of you just swaying around, giggling incoherently. it's kind of sweet and very much adorable, but the downside is that he has a horrible fever the next day. he'd definitely do it again for u though, fever be damned. 

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @hanniehaee @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @jeonghanfr

[archiveofvirtue]

SICK ⸻ sam winchester

content / sam winchester x fem!reader, sick!reader, comfort, hella fluffy, sam being a golden retriever boyfriend, 1.5k words

summary / you’re sick and sam is doing everything in his will power to make you feel better, even though not all of his methods might work

You lay curled under layers of blankets, head pounding with the rhythmic throb of a migraine. Your nose was stuffy, and no matter how many times you tried to breathe through it, it felt like nothing was working. You hated feeling sick, but what you hated more was Sam’s worried face hovering over you.

He couldn’t help it though—that’s just who he was. You looked so small and fragile in your bed, sniffling and wincing every time you moved. He hated seeing you like this.

Sam was many things, but mostly someone who cared too deeply. And seeing you in pain triggered a special part of him, the one that needed to fix things, no matter how small.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Sam’s deep voice came from the doorway as he walked into your shared room, carrying a steaming mug of tea. It wasn’t much, but he hoped it would help, even if only a little. He had already gone to the store twice—once for your favorite herbal tea and then again for some meds and more tissues.

You glanced up from your pillow, giving him a weak smile. "Like I got hit by a truck."

Sam chuckled softly, though the concern in his eyes was obvious. He set the tea down on the nightstand and knelt beside the bed. “I got you some soup too, whenever you’re ready.”

You could feel the guilt creeping in. Sam had seen and fought things far worse than a simple cold. He didn’t need to be playing nurse. He could always tell when you felt like you weren’t worth all the fuss. But weather it was a runny nose or a world-ending apocalypse, he wasn’t going anywhere.

"You don’t have to do all this," you muttered, trying to sit up. The pressure in your head doubled, and you winced, immediately sinking back down onto the pillow.

Sam’s hand was on your shoulder in an instant, gently pushing you back into the bed. "Of course I do. I want to."

He reached for the tea, blowing on it to cool it slightly before handing it over. "Here, this will help with the congestion."

You took the mug, feeling it warming you up, and Sam couldn’t help but feel relieved that he could do at least this much for you. You took a small sip, feeling the tension in your body slowly ease as the warmth from the tea spread through you.

But really, it was just having Sam here that made everything feel better. Even if the world were ending, he’d still be here, making you feel like everything was okay.

"Do you want me to rub your temples?" Sam asked, his voice soft, barely above a whisper.

You blinked your eyes open, surprised. "You don't have to—"

You started to protest, but Sam just smiled, gently pressing his thumbs to your temples. His touch was perfect, the pressure just enough to ease the tension without making things worse. You closed your eyes, a sigh escaping as his fingers worked wonders.

"You’ve got magic hands," you murmured, voice barely audible as you melted into his touch.

“Oh, I know. They could work wonders on more than just your head." He responded playfully, wiggling his brows at you.

That did it—you couldn’t hold back. You burst out laughing, but almost immediately, the laughter turned into a violent coughing fit. You hunched over, clutching your chest, your breath catching as you coughed hard.

Sam’s face went from playful to panicked in a second. "Oh shit, y/n, I’m sorry!" His hand hovered near your back, unsure whether to pat or just let you get through it.

You waved him off, still coughing but managing a breath in between. "I’m—" you tried to speak, voice strained, "I’m fine. Really.”

Sam winced, guilt written all over his face as he handed you a tissue and waited for you to catch your breath. "I didn’t mean to make it worse," he muttered, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. "I just wanted to make you laugh, not, you know, choke to death."

You finally settled, breathing evening out as you dabbed your nose with the tissue. You looked up at him, eyes still watery from the coughing, but a soft smile tugged at your lips. "Don’t worry," you rasped, voice hoarse. "It was totally worth it."

Soon his touch returned to your temples, gentle and steady. His fingers moved slowly, easing the pain that had gripped you all day. After a minute, he leaned down and kissed your forehead, his lips cool against your feverish skin.

Sam was always like this—so careful, so considerate. You weren’t sure how you’d gotten so lucky. A guy who had faced demons, angels, and everything in between, now sitting here with you, rubbing your temples like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

"You’re too good to me, you know that?" You said, voice thick from congestion.

Sam paused and turned his gaze down toward you, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I’m just doing what you’d do for me." he said, because he knew without a doubt that if your roles were reversed, you’d be the one fussing over him.

You laughed, though it came out more like a wheeze. "I don’t know about that. You’re a little too overqualified for the job."

Sam inched closer, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. "You’re worth it, y/n." It wasn’t just something he said—you knew that he meant every word. He’d go to the ends of the world for you, and he had, more than once.

Despite feeling miserable, you couldn’t help but smile. Sam had a way of making everything better, even when you felt like you were falling apart.

"Alright, get some rest," Sam said softly, carefully standing up and pulling the blanket higher around your shoulders. "I’ll be right here if you need anything."

You closed your eyes, the warmth from the tea and the comfort of Sam’s presence lulling you into a more peaceful state. Even through the haze of your migraine, you could feel the love and care he poured into every small gesture.

Sam Winchester might be just a hunter for a few, but to you, he was your everything.

hope you enjoyed !! i was sick when i wrote this, so it’s not proofread.

feedback and requests are very welcomed !!

tags: @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @angelicjackles @nxptvn @nourties @alluvthegurlz @beausling @lailawinchesterr

[laylarevengers]

dancing with our hands tied. manjiro sano x fem! reader. bonten timeline. established relationship (marriage). established biological son. changes like emma, shinichiro, izana are around alongside most ‘dead’ characters in this arc. overall fluff!

“hey, don’t do that. you’ll get hurt.” manjiro mumbled, stretching his arms and pushing his son back from the table he was gladly going to walk into. it was weird, having two people that he loves this dearly, that is. y/n and his son. every time he watched the three-year-old kid play around in his office, ruin papers and invade executives meetings with his barely audible words; it made manjiro’s heart flutter. fuck, he loved that kid to hell and back.

he wanted to leave. get away and ensure that this kid won’t be tied to him, have him have a normal life without any fear, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t leave. he left y/n once and it was the worst time of his life, what will happen when he leaves her and his son again? the light of his life? the only ones that make him laugh that boyish smile he used to have in his toman days.

“dad!” a whiney voice snapped manjiro and out of his thoughts. he sat one of the meeting rooms with the executives, all waiting for some snobby people to have a dumb finance meeting with, all with the child running around the room. y/n had work, manjiro does not trust babysitters, and the executives are here so he had no choice but to have him attend with him.

‘teach them young,’ manjiro chuckled when he remembered y/n’s words at the decision to take the kid. little fingers pointed at the haitani brothers, “ran, candy!” mikey’s full attention was on the broken, mumbled words spoken. he hummed, “yeah? ran toke your candy?” he couldn’t help but smile at the desperate nods from the little boy and how he crossed his arms with a small pout, glaring at ran and rindou who couldn’t control their laughter anymore.

it was crazy, manjiro thought, how much of a carbon copy of him this kid was. the same silky black hair that y/n insisted on letting grow, similar to how mikey had it in his toman days. the same big, black eyes but unlike his own, the boy’s was full of light and sparkles whenever he looked at his dad. he stood there, small and arms-crossed, wearing the cardigan auntie emma had crocheted him with the sweatpants and snickers that he bought with uncle izana and uncle shinichiro after motorcycle rides.

manjiro bent down and picked the little boy, sitting him on his lap. small arms immediately wrapped themselves around mikey’s neck, “did ran and rin make you sad?” manjiro mumbled, patting the boys back. he heard a small sniff then a muttered, “yes.” it was times like these where the executives saw the real manjiro. when he was around his son or his wife, soft and gentle and happy.

manjiro turned boy around, “sanzu is right there. go tell ‘em.” he pointed at the pink haired man who just walked into the room. ran and rindou groaned in fake fear as the little boy smiled widely and rubbed the tears away with his sleeve. he quickly got off mikey’s lap and ran towards sanzu who almost immediately put the cigarette he had in hand when he heard the small call of his name, “san-zoo! ran-rin, candy!”

mikey watched as the boy jumped in anticipation in front of sanzu. “oh, yeah? you want me to take care of them?” sanzu bent down so he was face to face with the boy. “yes! can we, dad?!” manjiro noted how clearer his words were becoming now, he had to tell y/n later tonight. he nodded, giving the boy permission which immediately made him burst into laughter and giggles as he ran towards the haitanis with screams and hit them with small fists to which they pretended to get hurt by with fake groans and cries of pain.

manjiro audibly laughed. “the assholes are here,” koko told him. mikey hummed, “hey. no cursing.” god, he’s such a dad. manjiro called the boy by his nickname which immediately caught his attention. it was always like that. the boy admired his dad so much. “come on. you gonna sit with dad as he listen to some assholes?” koko could only roll his eyes. the boy ran excitedly towards his dad, climbing onto his lap while refusing any help with the task until he sat completely and placed his small hands on the table with a small serious face.

the bonten executives all let out small chuckles as manjiro ruffled the boy’s hair, “good job. ‘always making dad proud.” the boy rested his back onto mikey’s chest and holding his wrist with a small shy smile.

manjiro sighed heavily as he locked the front door after coming in. he toke off his shoes, making sure the boy sleeping in his arms would not be disturbed. he glanced at the shoe wardrobe they have by the door and could not find y/n’s shoes placed outside the wardrobe indicating she came come. weird. it’s really late.

he continued into the penthouse until he reached the living room closest to the master bedroom where he placed the small boy on the sofa, slowly taking off his white sneakers. “jiro,” mikey turned around and saw her. he could not help but smile, “hey.” he replied lowly as she made her way towards both her boys, placing a small kiss on each of their forehead.

she was still in her work clothes, mikey noticed. they both sat on the floor, leaning on the couch where their boy laid, heavily sleeping. “how was today?” she asked with a whisper, brushing strands of black hair away from the small face of the sleeping boy. mikey shrugged, “practically spent all day in the meeting. we got cupcakes after we were done. that’s it really.” y/n looked up at manjiro with a small smile, “cupcakes?”

he lowered his eyes from hers. ‘kinda want cupcakes… anyway, where is ___’s white sneakers?’ words uttered by y/n this morning as all three of them got ready. manjiro always did that; made sure neither of his two stars went to bed without having anything they wanted. he has money, he’s not using it and he loves seeing the small giggles and laughter erupted after he gets things as small as cupcakes or a lollipop.

“he asked to come to work with me again,” manjiro said. y/n smiled, “yeah? are you going to take with you?” her fingers stopped playing with long black hair and turned to play with much shorter black hair. “i’ll take him with me when it’s boring days like these.” y/n understands he means when he doesn’t have to use guns and get chased by the authorities. she was a worrier, especially when it came to her little boy, but she doesn’t trust anyone more than she does manjiro sano.

“you’re thinking.” she mumbled, eyes not wandering away from mikey’s face. he remained looking in front of him, tangling his fingers with hers, “‘saw a normal company, business man with his little daughter at the bakery. made me think. fuck, i’m a mess.” he chuckled, his un-intertwined hand coming to push his hair back from his face. y/n cupped his face with her free hand, “well, you’re the mess that i want. that we both want.”

“y/n, people will talk. put us in our place. threaten. they will—“

“manjiro sano. you think i don’t know? i knew no one in the world could take it, but…”

“but you,” mikey finished her sentence immediately. silence fell again before y/n spoke up once more, “you know we won’t be able to do anything without you. ‘need you, jiro, both of us do. always will do.” before manjiro could muster up a reply, a small yawn caught their attention. “mama..!” tired excitement erupted from the boy as he stretched his arms towards y/n. “hi, baby. had fun with dad?”

“always!”

manjiro’s eyes widened slightly at the boy’s reply. y/n’s small chuckled alongside the tired giggles of his son made him feel warm. tracing everything, they were making him a better man. giving up alcohol and cigarettes, rarely forcing anger out and using rationality because his little boy could always be around and looking at dad.

“i love you,” manjiro suddenly said to the both of them. “love dad!” the boy replied without hesitation, hugging both his parents. y/n rested her head on manjiro’s shoulders, “i love you more.” she whispered softly, helping their boy comfortably lay on the both of them and drift back to sleep.

they will wake up with the worst back pain, but manjiro wanted it that way if it meant having this. having them. because he knows he needs them more than they will ever need him and he was way more than okay with that.

[toomuchracket]

tan lines (flatmate!matty x reader smut)

part of summer75, alternatively known as "the 69 fic". bon appetit <3

the flat is suspiciously quiet when you get home.

usually, matty's making some sort of noise - singing, talking to himself, or playing while he writes - or listening to something, the TV or the radio or a record. if he's doing none of these things, the sound effects of whatever video game he's into at the moment are usually audible, assaulting your ears as soon as you step through the front door.

but today… nothing. well, nothing but the air con, providing a slight but welcome reprieve from the blistering heat outside.

“baby?” you shout down the hall, dropping your bag and kicking your shoes off. he's in the flat somewhere, because his car and house keys are still hanging from the tuning pegs on the old guitar head you stuck to the wall for that very purpose, but he doesn't reply. brow furrowed, you wander past the bathroom, knocking the door and opening it to find the room empty. “matty, where are you?”

your next port of call is the kitchen, which you do linger in despite its matty-less-ness, just long enough to down some of the apple juice stashed in the fridge. once the heat in your body is alleviated somewhat, you continue on into the living room, where it becomes immediately apparent that said alleviation was futile; matty's there, stretched out asleep on the sofa, softly-heaving chest illuminated by the sun.

and he's stark fucking naked.

heat floods your cheeks, slightly embarrassed to have stumbled upon him so exposed like this - when your brain remembers he's your boyfriend, though, the heat floods… elsewhere on your body, and before you know it your legs are carrying you towards the couch and settling in a kneeling position beside it. you rest your head on matty's thigh, as slowly as possible so you don't wake him, and look up towards his face. as he is in every facet of life, he's a pretty sleeper, long eyelashes lightly brushing his cheekbones and those beautiful lips open in a slight pout, and you're content to just adoringly watch him dream, heart fit to burst with how sweet he is and how much you love him.

and then he moves, shifting more onto his side towards the sun, and sweetness is the last thing on your mind.

whatever he's dreaming about - you hope it's you - has him half-hard, and it honest to god has your mouth watering. muscle memory, you think; one of your personal favourite mutual discoveries about matty in bed is how much he enjoys getting fully hard in your mouth before he fucks it, weaving his hands into your hair and groaning about how pretty you look sucking his dick, and looking at him right now is upping your desperation to recreate it all to an insane level.

yeah, you need to wake him up right now.

still on your knees, you shuffle up further towards that pretty face; one hand comes up to caress it, the side of your index finger satin-soft against matty's slightly stubbled cheek, while the other is poised right over his dick, ready to stroke when your boyfriend starts to stir. voice singsongy and little more than a whisper, you speak. “matty, baby, wake up.”

matty sniffs, eyebrows raising while his lids stay firmly closed. a noise of vague recognition rumbles in his chest, turning into a light moan when you tentatively drag your nails up the length of his cock - when you circle the tip with the pad of your index finger, smiling as you spread the pre-cum all over his head, matty's eyes flutter open with a satisfied hum. “hi, darling,” his voice is scratchy with sleep, and it's really fucking doing it for you. in contrast to the sexiness of his voice, though, his brow furrows cutely. “am i still dreaming?”

“no, sweetheart,” you giggle, leaning in to kiss him softly. “i'm real, see?”

he huffs out a laugh. “feels familiar,” he kisses you, groaning into your lips when you start to slowly wank him off properly. “fuck, feels good.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. thank you,” he beams, and your heart flutters. “what brought this treat on?”

you shrug. “came home to my incredibly hot, incredibly naked boyfriend, and i wanted to make him feel good. why are you naked, by the way, baby?”

“was - fuck, babe, just like that, yeah - was sunbathing, and i didn't want any tan lines,” matty blushes, smiling bashfully while you laugh. “s'pose i was just so content that i fell asleep.”

“and here was me thinking you were doing some new free-use sex thing for me.”

he groans. “don't give me any ideas, sweetheart, especially when you're dressed like that.”

“you like my work outfit?”

“you know i do.”

speeding your hand movement up the tiniest bit, you smile as sweetly as you can muster. “you wanna fuck me in it?”

“christ, you can't just say things like that to me, darling,” matty's hands come up to his face; he shakes his head before dragging them downwards, smiling exhaustedly at you. “s'like you want me to cum immediately.”

“i wouldn't be opposed,” to prove your point, you speed your hand up again, beaming at the whine that leaves matty's lips and the way his hips jerk up into your grasp. “but you have to answer my question first, sweet boy.”

he sighs, gulping before he talks. “wanna go down on you in it more than anything else right now.”

oh.

you hum happily. “shuffle down the couch a bit for me, then, please, sweetheart.”

matty looks confused, but does as you ask. “what for, babe?”

caressing his cheek again, you beam. “so i can sit on your face. if that's alright with you, of course, my love.”

he blinks repeatedly while you keep on beaming at him, trying to compute your words in his groggy brain; suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you with the same desperation he's always kissed you with, as if you're on the edge of slipping through his calloused figures like the sand in his sleepy eyes. “underwear off. now,” he mutters into you - then, a somewhat less gruff afterthought. “please, darling.”

“okay,” you oblige as you stand, leaving your (damp) thong in a puddle on the floor as you climb onto your boyfriend and the sofa. “fuck, this is tight.”

“oi, s’my line,” the smile is audible in matty's voice as he tugs you back towards his face.

you sigh, leaning down to take his dick in your hand again. “shut up, babe.”

“gladly.”

before you even have time to sarcastically thank him, your boyfriend's tongue slices through your soaked core. you gasp out some sort of shocked moan, a wanton sound that mutates into a whimper when his mouth finds your clit and sucks on the bundle of nerves; when you take his dick into your mouth, it's as much an act of keeping yourself grounded as it is an act of getting matty off. he groans into your cunt when you deepthroat him, and the sound makes you simultaneously hurtle towards your own climax and diligently focus on getting matty to his. unlike other times you've found yourself in this position with your boyfriend, though, there's no competition - just two people working as best they can to make their lover feel good.

however, if it was a contest, you would doubtless win; matty's hips are already jerking up sporadically, a primal instinct for friction so he can finish. despite the pleasure clouding your own brain, you focus enough to dig your manicured nails into his thigh to subdue him, and he obeys with a whimper directly on your clit. you have to hand it to him, though - even on the very precipice of orgasm, he's dead-set on getting you off, eating you like he hasn't had a meal in weeks and sending shockwaves of ecstasy through you. he pulls back, very briefly, just enough to warn you of what you already know is imminent. “babe, baby, fuck, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum.”

you stay silent, diligent, aside from a soft hum around his dick and a slight smile; the vibrations from the noise are enough to set matty off, and he spurts into your mouth with a series of whimpers, hips continuing to fuck your throat as he rides out the last of the orgasm. eyes watering and mouth full of your boyfriend, you slide off him with a pop, swallowing his cum and gasping - half for air, half from the pleasure he's giving you now that his sole focus is to make you cum.

and he does just that, embarrassingly quickly for you, that fucking tongue of his making you shake and cry and see stars and soak his face with your release. actually, the orgasm is so strong that you honestly black out for a second - at least, you think you did, because how else would you have ended up curled into matty's chest so soon after cumming, his lips on your forehead and a hand in your hair?

regardless, that's where you find yourself, in the arms of the person who loves you most in the world, both of you spent and sated and so content. there's silence for a minute, save the sounds of east london through the open window and the two of you breathing in tandem, until matty looks down at you with a shit-eating grin on his pretty, soaked face. “so, babe… how was work?”

[number-onekidqueen]

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝

Part Two Part One

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: character death, depression, lots of crying.

Summary: you’re still feeling awkward about what happened that night with Luke. And then you get the news that changes everything.

Days passed, days since your ki- hang out with Luke. 

Hang out? Who were you kidding? It was clear it wasn’t him. 

But you’d laid yourself bare to him, been about to confess all your feelings and he had just shut you down and run away. 

Of course you didn’t wanna talk about it in the morning. 

The tragedy was he did. 

And just when you were feeling better, and your conversations weren’t so awkward, fate tossed you to the ground again, as it often did. You still didn’t really believe it. 

Cecilia, your cabin counsellor, your beloved older sister had died on the road to college. It seemed impossible. 

Of course, they’d had a brief ceremony, a burning of a golden yellow shroud weaved with her own fingers. And then they’d appointed you as cabin counsellor, announced a bunch of new kids had arrived and everyone forgot. 

It made you sick to think people would forget Cecilia. That the three Apollo kids your cabin had greeted would grow up without her and never know of her presence.

Obviously, your cabin was upset, but they didn’t make it so as Aphrodite always did. The sun keeps shining, and Apollo kids kept going, laughing, training, even if muffled sobs could be heard the first few nights. They never talked of her, and after the first week, she was a sad little scar that had scabbed. 

It still hurt a little, but the memory was what hurt the most. 

Except for you. She was still a mortal, lethal wound for you. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure and pretend everything was okay. 

Shortly, it all cracked and spilled out from you. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault really. Chiron was just trying to be supportive to little Will, but when he praised enthusiastically that he was the best archer he’d scene for 300 years, tears seemed to burst from you. 

Because that had been Cecilia’s title. She had been the best archer, training all the little ones supportively and making people gasp with the precision of her shots. 

It seemed Chiron had already forgotten. Everyone had. 

It was like losing her all over again. 

No one saw the little sun cracking on the archery field. They just noticed you disappearing behind some clouds. 

You didn’t pay attention to the stares and whiplash glances of some, as you ran back to your cabin with tears streaming, and your heart in your throat. 

Didn’t notice as a tall brunette boy on the sword plains spotted you, dropped his sword immediately and with a shouted apology behind him began to sprint after you. 

Your bed was warm and comforting, the covers swaddled around your shoulders in a safe cocoon as you sobbed your heart and soul onto your pillow. 

Cecelia was dead. Dead. This is what you would deal with every day for the rest of your life, she was dead and she would be replaced and forgotten and no one would even know her and-

The door creaked open and immediately you stilled, pretending to be asleep. 

“Y/N?” It was Luke. 

Not the timing, you thought to yourself miserably. 

“Y-yeah,” you tried for a sleepy yawn, but it came out cracked and pained. Ugh. 

“You ok?” He asked quietly, and you heard his footsteps approach. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just woke up.” But your voice was hollow and very much awake. 

He sat softly at the edge of your bed, and for a while you were both still. Only your breath was audible. Then, tentatively and slowly, you began to feel his warm fingers slide through your hair. It was so comforting and lovely that you had to swallow down the wave of tears that surfaced. 

“It’s okay, you know,” he murmured, your hair in glorious tangles around his knuckles, “to cry. You don’t have to pretend. Especially for me.”

“Yeah, I know,” you whispered back, “it’s just-“ you hesitated. 

I love you. 

I don’t want to burden you with all my stupid problems. 

“You probably don’t want to talk about this to anyone, right? Me included.” He guessed, and he began to retract his fingers and you felt like screaming at how utterly wrong he was. “I’m sorry, I should give you space.”

“No, you don’t have to. You can stay here.” You tried not to beg, but you were inches from clinging onto him to stop his departure. He understood. 

“Would you like me to stay?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Then here I’m staying. In your bed.” He reassured comfortingly, “I mean, on.” 

His flustered stuttering made you smile weakly and turn to face him. 

His whole face softened, lost all his fluster and stress when your eyes met, but you were too busy setting your head into his lap so you faced up at him to notice. 

He traced your tear tracks, brushing any remaining ones away with his thumbs. 

“I know the pain feels awful,” he said suddenly, “but if you ever feel bad, like you can’t breathe or you’re about to burst, don’t keep it in y/n, come find me. I’m always here for you, always.”

“Thank you.” You said near inaudibly. 

“I hate seeing you cry,” he confessed, his forehead crinkling, “or being sad. It just hurts me. But I love making you feel better, I’d do anything in the world to make you happy, I promise.”

“Thank you.” You said louder this time, your cheeks beginning to heat up. 

It was a peaceful few seconds you gazed at each other, smiling. Then you closed your eyes, comforted. 

You felt warm hands lift your body, and your eyes fluttered open. But it was just Luke lying down beside you and repositioning yourself on his chest. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, “just figured we might be here for a while.”

His arms encircled you, and even in your drunken state of misery, your heart rate sped up. You turned your head slightly, so you could hide your bashful grin in the orange folds of his shirt. His chest was warm, comforting, and you could feel every deep breath he took. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, facing up once more, “your shirt’s probably going to be all soggy after this.”

“I don’t mind a soggy shirt if it makes you happy.” He breathed, and your heart was bursting from the love that statement invoked when you saw his eyes flicker. Your eyes. Your mouth. 

Could he really-

Surely not-

Eyes. Mouth. 

The air was electric, as if Zeus himself was in the cabin. The space was getting tighter and smaller and everything was so close and dizzy and what in the gods before you knew it you were nose to nose and you could feel his warm breath and he was leaning down to kiss you against the pillow. 

It might’ve been the best kiss you ever had. With salt on your tongue, and sweetness from his lips, the tastes of all your emotions were combined, giving way to the most passionate and fantastic kiss you’d ever had. Your head was pressed to the pillow, and he was moving above you, warm, soft and pouring his heart out to you, the gateway his lips. It seemed every single ‘I love you’ either of you had ever been too afraid to say was expressed strongly now, each drop of attraction and love and feeling was encapsulated between the movement of your lips. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay,” he breathed, against your lips, when you finally pulled apart, both of you panting, “I didn’t want to do anything while you were drunk. But of course I wanted to. I wanted you. I have for so long.”

“It’s okay. I have too,” and you laughed, all those emotions and secrets finally free. You were so giddy with joy! But Luke remained tense, nervous for a reason you couldn’t determine. You calmed down, scared it was all about to come crashing down. 

“It’s- it’s not just that, y/n,” he paused, sitting up further away, eyes still looking profoundly into yours, “I love you. I love you, all of you, and you should know that to me you’ve never been a burden, only a miracle to have been with.” 

Your breath was caught in your throat, blown away by his confession. You were expecting he might’ve been crushing on you? But loving you? You’d never dared to consider that as an option. And you were beyond thrilled. 

“Now would be a great time to say anything,” he laughed nervously, fingers brushing over your shoulders restlessly. You immediately felt awful for keeping him waiting. 

“I love you too.” You blurted, letting silence ensue. “You make me so happy every time you make a joke or take care of the new unclaimed kids. I’m just in shock.”

And then the pair of you were laughing together, foreheads pressed together before you were tangled in an embrace, that led to another heated kiss on your bed.

You knew soon other campers would arrive to see two head counselors kissing, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. In fact, while Luke’s like we’re on yours, you couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts at all. 

In the back of your mind, you were still sobbing over Cecilia. Deeply, you knew you always would. Your heart would always be chipped in that way, the missing fragment forever in her fist as she wandered Elysium. 

But you also knew how happy she would be to see you thriving, dating and loving Luke, a boy she had always suggested and approved of. She imagined her now, giggling in delight and grinning at what had transpired. And slowly, the pain began to lift. 

Maybe a scar would be okay, as long as you loved and remembered it. 

Most of all, you knew that for as long as you required a shoulder to make soggy, Luke would always be there to be your comfort person. 

taglist:

@lifeonawhim

@sflame15-blog

@star611

I think this was all, if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just comment or message me :)

[tamiart]

I wrote a little romance scene between Halsin and Tav, mostly imagining Halsin’s POV.

Summary: Tav is breaking down under the pressure of the enormous task ahead of her, and Halsin happens upon her.

Since I don’t consider myself a writer, I have never tried to write anything like this before. But I love this game so much, and especially when it comes to these two characters, my imagination is continuously running away with me. I need more material with them, so I tried to create some of my own. I hope you like it.

Midnight Solace

Everyone was finishing up their duties in setting up camp. Halsin looked over to see Tav talking to Wyll and Gale, who were arguing about something as they tried to come up with a strategy for some fight or other, which was now an almost daily occurrence. Tav looked worn out, barely listening to the two of them bicker as she studied a map they had drawn in the dirt. The others were always going to her for help with their problems, and by Silvanus did everyone in this group have catastrophic problems. In all his many years, Halsin had never met such a varied, volatile bunch of individuals. They reminded him of his younger years when every mishap, every mistake, felt like the end of the world.

Tav was the most intriguing to him. She couldn’t be half his age, and yet this young, unassuming slip of a girl had gone out of her way, putting aside her own troubles and fears, which must be plentiful though she never voiced them, for weeks throughout their perilous journey to help many along the way, including himself. She was helping him find a way to lift the shadow curse, which had haunted him for a century as his greatest shame and failure. She had risked her life to infiltrate a horde of nasty, treacherous little goblins to free him - a huge, threatening wild bear that could have tried to kill her too for all she knew. But even in his most savage form, she wasn’t afraid of him. 

Halsin had never met anyone like her. He often found himself watching her from across camp as she went about the daily routine that everyone had settled into - helping to prepare their meals, eating, talking and laughing with everyone around the fire, getting ready to go to sleep, preparing to head out in the mornings. He wondered about her as he performed his own duties. He felt himself drawn to her, and realized he was reluctant to leave her side. He was sorely tempted to forsake his druidic duties and stay with her, to be there for her and protect her for as long as she would let him during her quest to save them all. She stirred long-dormant feelings in him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this way about anyone.

Later that night, after everyone had sought their bedrolls, rest seemed to elude Halsin, so he gave up and headed towards the woods to lose himself in a hunt. As he walked past Tav’s bedroll, he noticed she wasn’t there. He looked around briefly, but did not see her. Slightly alarmed, he enhanced his senses and picked up her scent trail heading into the forest. Wanting to make sure she was alright, he followed it.

As he approached the stream nearby, he heard the sound of someone crying. He stopped and peered through the trees in that direction and saw that it was Tav, sitting by the water, her head resting on her bent knees. He felt a sympathetic pang to see and hear her so distraught. Not wanting to frighten her, he made his footsteps audible as he rounded a bush and approached her, and she started up and noticed him, and immediately turned away to surreptitiously wipe away the traces of her misery. He felt his heart stir.

“Oh, Halsin,” she said, “what are you doing out here so late?”

“I could not sleep,” he responded, “so I was going for a walk. I could ask you the same thing. Are you alright, my friend?”

At that, she failed at reigning in her emotions and burst into sobs once more.

“I’m sorry,” she sputtered through her tears. “I don’t know what’s come over me tonight.”

He hurried over and sat beside her. “It’s alright,” he tried to reassure her. But she could not stop, and he hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder.

His touch seemed to relax something in her and she leaned towards him. He put his arm around her and held her closer. The feel of her sobs shaking her slight frame melted away his final resistance, and he knew then that he would do anything to help this girl. He was lost to her. He held her until her sobs quieted into sniffles. 

“What is it, my friend? Can I do anything to help?” He asked her gently.

“No, I’ll be okay.” She sighed.”Ugh look at me, I’m such a mess.”

“You are still beautiful. But stay here, I’ll get something for you.” Halsin quietly returned to his tent and found a clean cloth, poured a cup of water and grabbed a blanket as well, then returned to Tav’s side. She had calmed down and sat quietly staring into the stream with a troubled expression on her face. He draped the blanket around her shoulders and handed her the water and cloth.

 “Thank you. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this,” said Tav, wiping her tear-stained face. “They’re all depending on me to be strong. I need to be strong for all of us if we’re going to get through this.” She took a sip of water and put the cup down on a rock.

He placed his arm around her again and pulled her close. “No one expects you to be invincible. You don’t need to carry all of it alone. We’re all here to help you. I’m here to help you.”

She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyelashes. The distance between them was too close. The urge to kiss her was overpowering, and it took all of his will to resist. She needed him to be strong just now, and he would give her his support.

“Thanks, Halsin,” She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “That’s nice to hear. I just… I’m so afraid. I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time. Why does every decision have to fall to me? Every time one of us gets injured, I wonder if I should give it all up. Maybe I’m just leading us all to our deaths.” Her voice choked on those last words, and she covered her face with her hands and pulled away from him. “I can’t… that thought… it’s too much to bear.”

“Your fears are completely understandable under the circumstances. We have far too much leveled against us, with no end to our journey in sight. What an incredible amount of pressure to undertake. But Tav, you’ve been amazing thus far. Why do you think everyone trusts you so implicitly? No one else could have gotten this eccentric group of misfits this far, to survive as much as we have. Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve managed it. You don’t realize how extraordinary you truly are. My dear friend, we would all follow you anywhere. I would follow you anywhere. If anyone is going to get us all through this, it’s you.” 

Tav looked up at him again, a new light and curiosity in her glance. “You truly believe that?”

“With all my heart.”

Suddenly she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Oak father preserve him, Tav had him wrapped around her finger. “Thanks, Halsin,” she whispered into him. She looked up at him again, and her face finally softened into a smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Tav, I - “ he tried to find the right words. “Please know that I’m always here for you, if you ever need to talk about anything. I will do my best to help you, in any way that you need.”

She was still looking up at him, her gaze searching. She was so beautiful, he could hold back no longer. Cautiously, he lowered his face down towards her, watching her expression as he did so. She did not pull away, and her lips parted as her glance fell to his mouth. He closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers. He tasted the salt of her tears as he kissed her, and she kissed him back, tentatively at first, but quickly growing more eager. Her lips were full, soft and warm. Finally they both had to pull away, gasping for air. He had to stop now before he took things too far. He couldn’t ask that much of her just now in her current vulnerable state.

Tav stared at him, stunned. Then as if suddenly realizing where she was, she blushed and gave him a shy, tentative smile. “Wow,” She gasped as she found her voice. “What was that?”

“I’ve dreamed about kissing you for a long time,” he confessed to her.

“Really? But I didn’t… I thought… you’ve never…” Tav stammered.

“I know. I didn’t want to do anything to upset you or harm our friendship. And I didn’t want to distract you during such a crucial and difficult time. I’ve been trying to keep my distance, to let you focus.”

Tave let out a breathy laugh. “Well, it’s a very welcome distraction.” She hesitated, then looked up at him shyly once more. “I’ve been thinking about that as well, with you.”

He wrapped her in his arms once more and held her in silence. They sat together, listening to the night sounds of the forest and the babble of the nearby stream. Gradually, he felt her relax in his arms. Her head began to droop against his shoulder. He could have stayed this way all night. But reluctantly, he gently shook her awake.

“You should try to get some sleep,” he told her. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

She sighed. “You’re right.” She stood up and handed the blanket back to him. She tried to return the cloth as well, but he told her to keep it. She seemed reluctant to go. “Thank you, Halsin. This was… it means a lot.” She smiled at him once more.

And she was gone before he could respond, leaving him alone once more in the woods, the blanket in his arms, all of his senses full of her, and his mind a whirl of thoughts, emotions and desires.

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 13.5k ➠ warnings: scenes of a child crying if you don’t want to read that (nightmares and stuff), also people are called mommy/daddy in this so if you can’t be normal abt that please skip this one ➠ genre: fluff, angst? but like around them in terms of life not within their relationship, established relationship, parents sungchan/reader, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), part of the buzzer beater series (after freezing the puck, or if you’ve only read buzzer beater & 27jsc, this should still make sense!) ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i can’t believe we’re finally done omg. i miss them so much already 🤧 thank you so much to everybody who has followed along with this series! i wasn’t expecting this to be a whole series, nor for so many people to like this fic that i started when i was feeling super frustrated with my migraines. it was definitely something that was super personal and specific to me that i was blown away by how many of y’all liked it and told me you related. so thank you, again!! ➠ series masterlist

“Really? You’re reading Breton lais to our child?” Sungchan’s teasing whisper was barely audible. “He’s going to start school saying stuff like nary and furthermore.”

“Says the man who knew I was reading a Breton lai,” you shot back just as quietly.

“Binnie, are you ready to go see Daddy?” You asked your son excitedly as you unbuckled his seatbelt, helping him out of the backseat and onto the parking lot pavement.

“Yeah!” He yelled out, the small sound echoing impressively in the open area. The five-year-old ran ecstatic circles around you as you walked calmly towards the university’s ice rink. “Mommy, am I skating with Daddy today?”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him nicely after he’s done working,” you informed Woobin as he skidded to a half-skip half-walk next to you, grabbing your gloved hand with his.

Walking into the hockey rink that you knew like the back of your own hand at this point, you saw the Raptors still practicing, and guided your son into the bleachers so you two could watch. Woobin climbed up on the seat next to you, standing on it so he could actually see, and you offered a hand for him to keep himself balanced. He used it until he felt stable, then pushed it away insistently. A few of the players waved at you two, and you both waved back, your son as enthusiastic as ever when he got noticed, waving practically with his entire little body.

Sungchan was on the ice, directing two players with his back to you, and as he skated backward away from them for them to line up and continue practicing, he happened to glance over his shoulder and in your direction. You raised a casual hand in greeting, and he waved back. Woobin sent him a zealous, flying kiss with his whole arm, and Sungchan visibly laughed and immediately went to do it back. After the two players that he’d been instructing had presumably corrected the issue, your husband gave them both pats on the shoulder before skating over your way.

Woobin screamed out a “Hi Daddy!” so loud you were sure the entire campus could hear him, and every head on the ice turned around to look. You burst into laughter, rubbing his back fondly at his enthusiasm, and Sungchan covered his face as he chortled as well.

A few minutes later and Coach called practice, the players slowly starting to filter off the ice and into the locker room. You guided Woobin down through the bleachers towards the gate, where Sungchan was waiting for the two of you.

Your husband had already opened the gate to the ice, standing on the flooring just off it, where you and your son were walking. Woobin flung himself at his legs at full-speed, and Sungchan easily picked him up, beaming as he kissed his forehead.

“Hey, buddy!” Sungchan grinned, readjusting your son’s beanie.

“Hi, Daddy!” He chirped back, bouncing in his arms.

“Hi, hon,” he kissed your cheek, and you gave his a quick peck in greeting as well.

“Hey, Channie.” You slipped your arm around his back in a one-armed hug. “Little dude wants to ask you something.”

“Oh really?” Sungchan focused his inquisitive eyebrow raise at your son.

“Can I skate with you? Please? Pretty please? Pretty pretty please?” Woobin immediately put on his best pout and puppy dog eyes, a display that always made you wonder how he wasn’t genetically Sungchan’s. The two of you had agreed some time ago that with your chronic migraines having a genetic component, you didn’t want to risk passing it down, and had looked into fostering initially. Woobin was your first placement at just a few days old, and he never left, the adoption going through right before his second birthday.

“Mr. Coach ended practice early, so we do have a few minutes,” your husband qualified his acquiescence.

“Yay!”

“You joining us, hon?”

“Sure.”

After fetching yours and your son’s skates from his office, Sungchan helped Woobin put his on, then double checked yours as always. Having married a former collegiate hockey player turned collegiate hockey coach, you’d gotten proficient enough at lacing up your own skates, but he wanted be sure every time that you weren’t going to twist your ankle, or have them come untied, or something else unfortunate.

Coach was still on the ice with the current goalie and center on one end, so you and your family kept to the other side. Woobin squealed and yipped with delight as Sungchan half-carried and half-pulled him around on the ice, you trailing behind with a fond smile on your lips as you watched on.

“Mr. Coach!” Woobin suddenly called to the other end of the rink.

“Oh, Binnie, Mr. Coach is working right now,” Sungchan tried to divert him. “We should leave him alone for now, buddy.”

“What was that, champ?” Coach’s gruff voice responded, the older man starting in your direction.

Woobin was absolutely thrilled to have his attention now, trying to pull Sungchan that way. “Mr. Coach! Mr. Coach!”

“I’m right here, kiddo,” he smoothly stopped right in front of your son. “I’m old but I’m not deaf yet. What do you want to tell me?”

“Mommy signed me up for my own hockey team today!” Woobin told him proudly. “Are you gonna be my coach too?”

“I don’t coach every hockey team in the world, you know.”

Woobin looked down at his skates dejectedly, as if he hadn’t considered this possibility before now.

“But… I did let your dad talk me into being his assistant coach for a certain little league team this season. Was that yours?” Coach asked teasingly, making the boy let out a loud gasp of realization.

“Was it, Daddy? Was it?” He looked up at your husband with wide eyes.

“Maybe…” Sungchan replied with a sly grin.

Woobin rounded on you, buzzing with excitement. “Did you hear that, Mommy? Mr. Coach is gonna be my coach!”

“I heard, buddy. Just like he was your Daddy’s coach,” you chuckled. Looking up at the older man, you added, “How does that make you feel, Coach? Teaching multiple generations?”

“Like my back is going to give out any day now,” he groaned and grabbed his lumbar. “Don’t remind me, Y/N, please.”

You laughed, making a motion of zipping up your lips and throwing away the key.

“Anyway, let me finish up with these two,” he gestured to the two Raptors still milling about on the other end of the ice. “Are you locking up, Jung?”

“Not today, got some errands to run before buddy’s naptime,” Sungchan explained.

“I’m five, I don’t need a nap anymore!” Woobin insisted.

“Hey, champ, look at me,” Coach requested, and waited until he had his attention before continuing. “How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know, like a hundred?”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, grabbing Sungchan’s arm for support as he at least had the decency to cover his mouth to hide his chuckles.

Coach nodded, not breaking eye contact with your son. “Exactly. I’m like a hundred, and I still take naps.”

“Really?”

“Really. You need them to make sure your brain—” he poked the boy’s forehead “—and your body—” he poked his belly, making him giggle “—are at their best. Especially a growing kid like you.”

“So why do you need them? If you’re not a kid anymore?”

“I’m saying you need them extra because you’re a kid. Grown-ups need them sometimes too.”

He pouted thoughtfully for a moment, then pointed up at you. “Mommy takes naps when she has a migraine. That’s when her head hurts really, really bad.”

“There you go. Told you they weren’t just for kids.” Coach stood up straight, cracking his back with a satisfied groan. “I’ll see you all later, okay?”

“Bye, Mr. Coach!” Woobin waved enthusiastically.

“See you Monday, Coach,” Sungchan nodded to him.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him, and he shot you a wink over his shoulder before skating back over to his players, his voice immediately souring as he started barking out orders again.

With the excitement of his upcoming little league team on his mind, your son insisted on having Sungchan show him moves and maneuvers today. You were of course the default practice dummy both for Sungchan to demonstrate, and your son to practice. Which only worked so well since none of you had sticks or a puck or gear of any kind except for your skates, but Woobin was having fun, so you were happy.

Coach eventually finished with the guys at the other end, and as you saw him start off the ice first, you called out to him, “Done for the day, Coach?”

He turned back to you. “I wish! Got some paperwork to finish up in the office! If somebody’s bleeding—call 911, not me!”

You laughed, giving him a final wave as he headed off. About to turn to your family to suggest that you leave to do your errands as well, you spotted the two Raptors players still loitering by the goal, no longer practicing, and yet still not rushing to leave.

“You boys need something?” You asked them knowingly.

“Well, if it’s alright with you, Professor…” the goalie, who had been in your Intro to Literary Theory and Criticism class last spring, began.

“We were wondering if we could see if we could skate with the MVP too?” The center finished hopefully.

“Just for a little! We heard you telling Coach you guys had errands to run before his naptime!” His friend rushed to add.

Woobin’s focus had already started waning on his impromptu lesson from his dad, and as you looked over, you could see Sungchan beginning to wind down on his instructing as he realized this. You checked the time on your phone, then looked back to the two college boys. “Sure, you can ask Binnie if he wants to skate.”

They erupted into celebratory hoots, chest-bumping before practically tossing aside their unnecessary equipment. Suddenly realizing themselves, they collected themselves and turned to you, bowing their heads politely. “Thank you, Professor.”

“You’re welcome, boys,” you replied with humor in your voice, watching as they took off, seemingly racing each other to Sungchan and Woobin.

You could hear bits of their conversation from where you were leaning against the wall halfway down the rink, and watched fondly as your son’s face lit up with enthusiasm, then the Raptors players started pulling him down the ice with them, his delighted laughter bouncing around the rink.

Sungchan leisurely skated over and stopped in front of you. With a great flourish, he bowed and offered his hand out to you. You laughed, placing your hand atop his, and he dropped a kiss to the back of your gloved fingers. He stood up straight again, pulling you off the wall with little resistance from you, before taking both your hands and beginning to skate backwards in front of you, guiding you along with him. Neither of you chose to mention the fact that you knew how to skate just fine, playing along with the fun of the moment as he easily took you around the rink that you were sure he could navigate with his eyes closed at this point.

“Oh, do we have dishwasher pods on the list?” You suddenly asked as soon as the thought popped into your mind.

“We put it on there last night when we loaded the dishwasher and saw that we were almost out,” he reassured you, not even breaking stride.

“Right, thanks.” You smiled, giving his hands a squeeze.

“I also put dish soap on there this morning, by the way.”

“I love you.”

He slowed the two of you down on the far side of the rink, letting go of one of your hands to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer. “I love you too, baby.”

After doing a few things out and about, the three of you headed home.

“Hey, buddy,” Sungchan called for your son’s attention, his hands occupied with groceries. “Do you want me or Mommy to help you get ready for your nap? Or are you going to try to do it yourself?”

“Mm…” He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Mommy!”

“Alright, help with the groceries then I’ll help you, Binnie,” you bargained, putting a bag down on the ground in his reach.

As Woobin dutifully put the bags of chips and boxes of gummies on the lower shelves of the pantry that he could reach, you and Sungchan quickly put away the rest of the groceries. When there was just cleaning and other household supplies left, your husband grabbed those and nodded towards your son.

“Go put buddy down, I’ve got this.”

“Thanks, Channie,” you pecked his cheek before turning to your child. “Lead the way!”

Woobin was able to get into his pajamas by himself, so you were really just there to tuck him in and kiss his forehead. You never bought into the “cry themselves out” mindset from the get-go, and to this day would sit with him until he fell asleep if he asked.

Except this time, he didn’t get into bed at all, standing next to the piece of furniture with you and staring at it like you were about to cliff dive instead of nap. He looked up at you, and you already saw his bottom lip quivering.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, Binnie, I’m right here, my sweet,” you promised, kneeling down in front of him so you were eye-to-eye. “What’s wrong?”

He threw his arms around your neck, taking quick, shallow breaths as he very bravely tried to communicate with you. “I don’t wanna—I don’t wanna…”

“Okay, I won’t make you right now,” you promised, rubbing his back. “Will you tell me what’s making you upset? Is it the nap? Going to sleep? Did you have a bad dream?”

But he had already devolved into incomprehensible sobs, and you bit your lip at the twinge in your chest. “Alright, sweet, how about we go to Mommy and Daddy’s room? Hm? And I’ll read you something. If you don’t want to nap, you don’t have to today, okay? Sound good?”

You could feel him nod into your shoulder, and that was all you needed to pick him up and settle him on your hip to carry him out of his room. As you passed by Sungchan putting away new bottles of dish soap and dishwasher pods under the sink, he gave you a concerned look. You mouthed a ‘later’ to him as you took your son across your house and into your room. As you passed by your bookshelf, you quickly selected a book, then sat down at the head of your bed, Woobin on your lap. Pulling your blanket up over you two, you let him get settled in and comfortable, still very much crying all the while.

Holding your book with one hand and resting the other on his back, you started reading. After a while, his sobs died down to hiccups, which petered out to just the occasional sniffle. But you could see that he was still awake, his eyes open and following your place as you read. Then, after a while longer, they started to slowly fall shut and his chin would tilt down, then he’d quickly open his eyes again and jerk his head up. Finally, he couldn’t fight the heaviness of his lids, and he fell asleep. You put your bookmark in where you were just before his eyes closed, but kept reading past that, just in case. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the door handle slowly turn, and your bedroom door inch open before Sungchan peered in.

Your husband pointed to the boy in your lap, then made a gesture of pretending to sleep on a pillow, lifting his eyebrows questioningly after. You nodded, still reading softly.

Sungchan slipped in the room, closing the door quietly behind him as well. Having come to a stopping place, you finally closed your book and set it aside on the one you already had on your nightstand.

“Really? You’re reading Breton lais to our child?” Sungchan’s teasing whisper was barely audible. “He’s going to start school saying stuff like nary and furthermore.”

“Says the man who knew I was reading a Breton lai,” you shot back just as quietly.

“Getting married to a lit professor, you pick up a few things.” He then looked down at Woobin. “What happened?”

You sighed and readjusted slightly to hold him tighter now that you had two free arms. “I don’t know. He couldn’t tell me. As soon as he had to get into bed for his nap he just… broke down.”

A deep frown cut across Sungchan’s face as he stroked your son’s hair, but he said nothing else. He left the room, and you heard him moving around throughout the house as you picked up the other book from your nightstand. Eventually, he meandered back in, sitting on his side of the bed and setting up his laptop to quietly work beside you as your son continued napping on your lap and you continued your book. In addition to doing research at the university and being the assistant coach for the hockey team, Sungchan had picked up teaching a couple of Intro to Biology for majors sections, and you could see him answering emails from his students out of the corner of your eye. You were rereading the material for the Direct Study you were leading next semester.

Eventually, Woobin slowly started stirring, grumbling, yawning, and rubbing at his eyes before burying his face back in your chest with a sigh. You stroked his back, attention still on your book. He turned over in your arms when he finally decided that he was awake, blinking his eyes open and staring off into the middle distance.

“Hey, Binnie, you awake?” Sungchan asked quietly.

He nodded slowly, stretching his arms up, and you had to duck your head out of the way to avoid getting smacked in the face by a stray hand.

“Sleep good?” Your husband kept talking to him.

He nodded again, letting out another adorable little yawn.

“Of course you did,” Sungchan chuckled, gently pinching the tip of his nose. “You got the best seat in the house right there, bud.”

Woobin made grabby hands at Sungchan, and he moved his laptop to the side to transfer him from your lap to his, pressing a kiss to his forehead once he was settled in against his chest.

“Uncle Chenle is going to be over soon,” you reminded your son of your plans for the night. “Are you excited?”

He perked up at this. “Yeah! He said he was gonna bring me back a souvenir!”

“He does love to spoil you,” Sungchan shook his head, ruffling the boy’s hair.

As Woobin busied himself with his toys in his room, the horrors of naptime all but forgotten, you and Sungchan were having a fervent, whispered conversation in your bedroom.

“Should we even go tonight?” You asked, pulling your outfit on.

“I know, I’m worried about bedtime…” Sungchan sighed, nevertheless assisting you with your zipper.

“Chenle’s really good with him, and you know how much he dotes on Woobin.” You paused in front of the mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles. You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or your husband at this point.

“I know, I don’t doubt how much he loves our kid, or how much buddy loves him,” he replied, fidgeting with his tie behind you. “I just… would hate to not be there.”

“Me too,” you replied quietly, turning around to fix his tie yourself. “I can practically feel the stress migraine coming on thinking about it.”

“Okay, well don’t do that, baby,” Sungchan insisted, resting his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I mean, that didn’t happen at bedtime yesterday, did it?”

“No, it didn’t,” you agreed. “Or naptime yesterday…”

“Who’s to say it’ll happen at bedtime today?” He suggested. “Might’ve been a one-time thing. Or only for naps.”

“Right.” You breathed out, having finished with his tie, and now looked up at him questioningly. “So we’re going?”

“Seems like it.”

“We should still give Chenle a heads-up.”

“Of course.”

Chenle pulled up in his sleek luxury car soon after, and you made sure to greet him at the door while Sungchan helped Woobin put his toys up.

“Whew! Look at you!” Chenle whistled as he pulled back from hugging you, grabbing your hand and twirling you around. “MILF! MILF! MILF!”

You laughed, shaking him off. “Quiet! You’re a menace, I swear. You better be filtering around my child.”

“Of course, of course.” He held his hands up in surrender, and you saw that one held a gift bag. A rather large gift bag.

“And what did you bring him this time? Milan, was it?”

“A model of the Arco della Pace for us to build together, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” You shook your head fondly, but couldn’t stop the worry from overtaking your mood. “Chenle, I do have to tell you something.”

Your friend immediately matched your change in mood, furrowing his brow with concern. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“When I was trying to put Binnie down for his nap today, he couldn’t get into his bed. He couldn’t tell me what was wrong, he just started crying and saying he didn’t want to. He had to take his nap in our room with the two of us. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I wanted to give you a heads up, in case it happens again at bedtime, since I know you always say he’s really good for you. If it does, just call and we’ll come right back, okay? Don’t feel bad at all, it’s not your fault.”

Chenle listened carefully and nodded thoughtfully as you explained the situation to him. “Okay, yeah. Are you two sure you even want to go? We can all have a really fun hangout with Uncle Chenle and then I can peace before bedtime if that’s what needs to happen tonight.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip, but ultimately shook your head. “We told Ten we were going to be there. I’d like to at least try to see him accept the award.”

“Of course.” Chenle patted his chest. “I won’t take it personally if he starts crying for Mommy at bedtime tonight.”

“When you put it like that I really don’t want to go.”

“Go,” he insisted. “We’ll be fine.”

“Uncle Chenle!” A delighted squeal came as your son ran in, wrapping himself around Chenle’s legs like a koala.

“Hey, Binnie!” Your friend beamed down at him, squeezing his cheeks in one hand. “How are you?”

“I’m good!” His words were a little garbled as Chenle smushed his face.

“Hey, Chenle,” Sungchan greeted him as well, patting him on the shoulder as he walked by to get to your side.

“Hey, Sungchan!”

“Are you ready to go, hon?” Your husband asked you as the other two started an enthusiastic guessing game of what Chenle brought Woobin back as a souvenir from Milan.

“Yeah.” You nodded. Raising your voice slightly to address the others, you announced, “Alright, guys, we’re heading out. Binnie, Daddy and I will be back after you’re asleep, okay?”

“Goodbye and goodnight!” He darted over as you and Sungchan knelt down to each give him a hug, and two more kisses—one for goodbye, and another for his goodnight kiss, since you wouldn’t be putting him to bed. Really, when you came home, you two always checked on him and gave him one last peck goodnight then, but he of course didn’t know that.

The award for Literary Theory Journal Editor of the Year had barely been placed in Ten’s hands when you saw Sungchan’s phone light up in his lap out of the corner of your eye. He squeezed your shoulder in a silent ‘be right back’ before standing from your table and quietly slipping out of the ballroom. You kept your eyes on Ten as he gave a short and charismatic acceptance speech, clapping when everyone else did, though you stayed keenly aware of the empty seat next to you. Your friend got his picture taken and shook lots of hands on his way back to your table, and your colleagues at your table all rose to greet him when he finally returned.

“Congrats, Ten,” you hugged him, your eyes straying over his shoulder to the door that Sungchan had left through.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he patted your back, pulling away still with a wide grin. “I saw Sungchan get up, is everything alright?”

You waved off his concerns for now. “Chenle probably set off the smoke alarm or something.”

Sungchan returned just a moment later, staving off his clearly concerned face for long enough to give Ten his congrats as well.

“You missed my hilarious acceptance speech, Sungchan,” Ten clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“Damn, maybe next year.”

“Ooh, you think I’ll win next year too?”

“Why not?” Sungchan shrugged. “I don’t know how all the other editors could suddenly get better than you in a year.”

“Great point.”

The awards had continued, and everyone took their seats, though your focus was only on Sungchan and whatever that call was about. He leaned over to inform you quietly, “That was Chenle. SOS for buddy’s bedtime, sounds like the same as naptime.”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“I’ll get the car,” he murmured before giving your shoulder a fleeting touch and leaving your table.

You turned to Ten to give him a real reason behind your sudden departure. “Hey, that was Chenle, and Woobin is—”

“It’s all good,” your friend cut you off with a smile, patting your arm. “Go be good parents, you’ve already been good friends. Promise.”

“Thanks.” You could feel the relieved smile on your face. “Congrats again, Ten.”

After giving your hushed goodbyes to the rest of your colleagues, you hurried out of the ballroom. Sungchan didn’t complain about the anxious death grip you had on his hand the entire ride home, simply smoothing his thumb over your knuckles as the fingers of his other hand tapped out impatient rhythms on the steering wheel at every red light you got stuck at.

Finally, you arrived home, and you didn’t even have to go searching for Woobin and Chenle, as you were barely in your foyer and Sungchan hadn’t even had the chance to finish locking the front door behind him when a small form came running in, barreling into your legs. Chenle was a few steps behind your son, entering right after him. Woobin was blubbering and sobbing against you, beyond the point of any sort of intelligible speech. You sighed forlornly and rested a hand on his head, feeling your heart break as you looked down at him, not knowing how to help him.

Sungchan immediately took your purse from your other hand, rubbing your back briefly as he passed by. As he and Chenle went to talk in the living room, you hooked your hands under your son’s arms and heaved him up onto your hip, carrying him into your room with you. You maneuvered to support him with one arm so you could take off your shoes with the other hand, tossing them in the vague direction of your closet door. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you readjusted him so that he was sitting in your lap, crying into your neck, and you gently stroked the back of his head as he shook in your arms.

“I’m right here, Binnie. I’ve got you. Mommy’s right here,” you told him softly, a hard lump growing in your throat. “You’re okay, my sweet. You’re okay. I promise, I’ve got you.”

Eventually, you heard Chenle and Sungchan’s hushed voices pass by, then the front door open and close. A couple minutes later, there was a soft knocking at your bedroom door.

“Hey, that’s Daddy,” you informed Woobin. “Is it okay if he comes in and stays with us too?”

Woobin nodded from where his face was still hidden in your neck. His sobs hadn’t stopped, and at this rate, you were worried he was going to make himself throw up with how much he was crying and hiccupping.

“Come in,” you called out.

Sungchan had already discarded his suit jacket and tie elsewhere, you realized as he slipped into the room. A pained look quickly took over his features as his eyes immediately found the two of you. He set the no-spill cup he’d brought in with him—Woobin’s favorite cartoon characters printed all around the outside—down on your nightstand as he sat down next to you.

“Hey, buddy, it’s me,” Sungchan said quietly. “I brought some water; I thought your throat might be hurting a little.”

You son let out a couple sniffles, as if contemplating this for the first time.

Your husband continued, “Do you think you can sit with me and drink some water while Mommy changes into her jammies?”

“I won’t leave the room, sweet,” you assured him. “I’ll be right here with you and Daddy.”

In lieu of a verbal response, he nodded again and loosened the vice-like grip he’d had around your neck, letting you shift him over into his dad’s arms. Before you could go run and do the fastest change of your life, Sungchan grabbed your hand, pulling you around to look at him. As you gazed down at him, with Woobin bawling inconsolably in his lap, the two of you exchanged a brief, unspoken moment of uncertainty, unknowing, of knowing that neither of you knew what to do for your son. Your hand was shaking—or maybe that was his—as you clutched each other tightly for just a second.

Then you had to let go of him to rush to change, and Sungchan tried to gently coax Woobin into taking a sip of water. You could hear him coaching your son through taking just one little sip at a time and not chugging, or he’d make himself sick. You, meanwhile, were throwing clothes into the general vicinity of where they needed to go as you pulled on new ones. The nice material now had snot and spit all over them, you were sure they’d need to be dry-cleaned anyway, so you didn’t care about the wrinkles they’d garner from being crumpled up on the floor for the night. You then rushed through taking out your hair and brushing your teeth, keeping the en suite bathroom door open all the while.

Back over with your husband and son, you saw that the task of sipping water had forced his crying to slow down considerably, and you took a deep breath to not pass on your stress back to your child. The last thing you needed to do was get him going again just because you were so worried. He also had his favorite stuffed animal tucked under his other arm, the only one that had survived from his infancy to now, a deer plushie. You didn’t even remember seeing Sungchan bring that in with him, your brain was so scrambled.

“Here, Binnie, Mommy’s back. I feel left out, I’m not the only one not in my jammies,” Sungchan joked, which didn’t even earn a giggle from your child as it normally would’ve. “You want to go back to Mommy and I’ll get changed?”

Woobin nodded, and Sungchan let you get into a more comfortable position up by the headboard before depositing your son into your arms. You could at least see some of his face from the new angle of him sitting sideways in your lap, and it was of course red, puffy, and covered in tears. Sungchan must have already cleaned up some of his snot, as you spotted several discarded tissues on the nightstand.

“Did Puck come to make sure you were okay, too?” You asked quietly, gently tapping one of the plushie’s soft antlers. Puck the Buck, as he had been so brilliantly named some time ago.

Another nod and a sniffle.

“That was nice of him.” You stroked the deer’s head. “Thank you, Puck.”

Woobin patted the deer’s head, too, and as you watched more tears fall down his cheeks, you pressed a long kiss to his hair, silently apologizing for not knowing how to fix it all right now. Sungchan came back from the bathroom just a moment later, scooting onto the bed from the other side.

“Okay, Binnie. What do you think? Do you want to watch an episode of your show?” He suggested. “Or Mommy can finish reading you Bisclavret? Or…”

As he tried to think of other options, you gave him a bewildered look over your son’s head at the fact that he apparently knew which Breton lai you were reading earlier. That was something to address later, though.

Woobin shook his head, though.

“No?” Sungchan said questioningly. “No to what? Do you want Mommy to read?”

Head shake.

“Do you want to watch an episode of your show?”

Head nod.

And so you, Woobin, Puck, and Sungchan all settled in under your covers to watch an episode of his favorite cartoon. Except you and Sungchan didn’t have a TV in your bedroom, and both of your laptops were charging across the house in your home office, so you all had to scoot in close to be able to see it on the much smaller screen of Sungchan’s phone. Puck took up a considerable amount of space when crowding around a phone to watch something, and from your vantage point mostly behind your son and the plushie, you couldn’t see a thing past the deer head and antlers, but you didn’t really care about catching up on the children’s cartoon. You were much more preoccupied with listening for Woobin’s sniffles to cease, and watching as his breathing evened out. He was still awake after one episode, but quiet, calm, and Sungchan went ahead and played the next one.

You gently rubbed his back, smiling to yourself when you heard his first yawn of the night. When his second came before the five-minute mark, you knew he wouldn’t last the whole episode. And sure enough, he was out before the halfway point. Sungchan turned his phone off and set it aside. The two of you were curled up on either side of your son, with Sungchan facing him and you.

Your husband reached a hand up, and you thought he was going to stroke Woobin’s hair, but he kept going and gently wiped a thumb under your eye instead, at the fresh tears that had just brimmed there. You placed your hand over his, turning your head just enough to leave a kiss on his palm.

You woke up early in the morning with a stress migraine. When you shuffled into the kitchen to get a glass of water, the stove clock read 3:03. You quickly chugged your first glass of water, then refilled it to take back with you. Walking through to your bathroom, you retrieved your bottle of rescue medication from your drawer. This one was a muscle relaxer, so you didn’t see any point in keeping it in your purse, as you weren’t able to drive after taking it, which you typically needed to do when you were out and about. You knocked back a tablet before screwing the lid back on and putting it away again. After taking a few more sips of your water, you slipped back under the covers with your family.

Your head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, but you still blearily opened one eye to look at your son, watching as his chest rose and fell peacefully. He was on his back now, and you couldn’t help but lay a hand on his front, feeling his even breaths under your palm. Sungchan’s foot tapped yours under the blanket briefly as he readjusted in his sleep, and you smiled to yourself. And then it happened again, and you peered over to the other pillow suspiciously.

In the low light, you could see Sungchan looking right at you. He pointed to his own head, then raised his eyebrows.

You lifted your hand in a ‘meh’ gesture, then held up 5 fingers to rate it out of 10, before setting your hand back down on Woobin’s front. Sungchan found your arm under the covers, gently squeezing your forearm. You tapped his foot in return, a silent exchange, before closing your eyes and settling back in to sleep.

Two hushed voices woke you up for the second time that morning. Well, one hushed voice, and one who hadn’t quite mastered whispering yet.

“What do you think Mommy—”

“Quiet, buddy, remember?” Sungchan’s words were barely discernible from behind the closed bathroom door. “Your mom’s got a migraine, and—”

“—and Mommy needs to sleep when she’s got a migraine,” Woobin finished dutifully, his voice a notch quieter than before. “So her head feels better.”

“That’s right, bud. Now come on, breakfast.”

“That’s what I—” Your son stopped himself as his voice raised with his excitement. He continued, in his best half-whisper, “Sorry, Daddy. I know: We gotta whisper. Quiet. I was asking what Mommy wants for breakfast?”

The two of them were quiet, and you heard the bathroom door open, then one pair of feet quietly tread across your room to open the bedroom, then shut it softly. You could hear their voices slowly fade as they walked further away.

“I don’t know. Why are you asking?”

“Because you always bring me breakfast in bed when I’m sick!” Woobin’s voice was back to it’s normal volume as he tried to emphatically get his point across to his dad. Sungchan must have gestured for him to quiet down again, as he dropped down to a part-whisper once more, “It’s Mommy’s turn.”

“You’re right. Let’s see what we can make…”

When you first got Woobin, you only got a migraine a couple times a year, a significant drop from when you were first diagnosed. The frequency fluctuated over the years and seasons, though, and there was a short period of time after becoming new parents, that you had been getting them weekly. You knew that put a strain on Sungchan, since a spouse with noise-sensitive migraines and a crying baby didn’t exactly mix. You of course would go through any migraine pain to take care of your son, but your husband couldn’t stand seeing you do it if it could be avoided. After some medication changes, you were fairly consistent with one every other month now. When Woobin was a toddler, and couldn’t quite grasp the concept of needing to play quietly when he wasn’t napping, Sungchan would take him on “field trips” while you rested. You’d decided to give him a simple explanation of a migraine to him when he was a little older, so he could easier differentiate between the migraines that you got, and when he might have a headache from a cold, or because his body was telling him he needed to drink some more water. He was also now your designated band-aid picker for your monthly injection, and had a better grasp on when, why, and how to keep quiet when you needed it.

Your head unfortunately still hurt, though your heart was warmed by your kind-hearted kid. There were lots of times where you and Sungchan felt like you had no clue what you were doing—like your current predicament with bedtime—but you figured you were doing a pretty alright job overall.

You contemplated getting up to take another dose. The only plans you had for today were a family trip to the park and some chores at home. Your husband would probably insist on you skipping the park for today, but if the second dose worked, you could probably get some things done around the house at least. Unfortunately, your days of laying in bed all day when you had a low-level migraine were long gone. If you could open your eyes, you usually had something that needed to get done.

But for this morning, at least, for now, you could close your eyes for just a little longer. You rolled over, away from the window where a thin strip of light had gotten in through a gap between your blackout curtains that Sungchan must have pulled closed.

You didn’t quite go back to sleep, but you dozed somewhere in between as you fondly listened to the sounds of Sungchan and Woobin trying to make breakfast as silently as possible. The running of the sink, sizzling of something on the stove, beep of the microwave before it was hastily shut off, fridge opening and closing, Sungchan’s quiet murmured directions to Woobin, and your son’s inquisitive tone in return.

Eventually, you heard someone shuffling up to your bedroom door, sounding much too small to be your husband. The door very slowly creaked open, and he tiptoed over to your side of the bed.

“Mommy?” His whisper had gotten better over the morning, though it didn’t matter much, since he was definitely right in front of your face.

You cracked open one eye, and offered him a soft smile. “Morning, buddy.”

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah, Binnie, I’m awake,” you chuckled, propping yourself up on one elbow and rubbing your eyes.

“Daddy and I made you breakfast, hold on!” And he darted back out of the room.

You looked at the empty doorway fondly, slowly pushing yourself up into a sitting position at the head of the bed. Sungchan and Woobin reappeared a moment later with a tray filled with various breakfast foods.

“Morning, beautiful,” Sungchan greeted you quietly, pecking the crown of your head as he went to set the tray down in your lap.

“Mm, morning, Channie,” you kissed his cheek before he could stand all the way back up. “This looks wonderful, thank you guys.”

In one corner of the tray you spotted a colorful assortment of pills, all of your morning doses plus what looked like a couple of your acute medications from your purse that was definitely in the dining room. You grabbed your water from the nightstand to get that out of the way first.

“We’ll let you eat in peace,” Sungchan declared, patting your son on the head to start to usher him out.

“No, it’s okay,” you stopped them. “It’s not so bad. I want you two to eat with me.”

Woobin’s face lit up, and he wasted no time in clambering up on the bed with you. You held the tray steady as he wedged himself in next to you.

“Alright, I’ll go get mine and buddy’s plates.”

Woobin was still earnestly pointing out each piece of food on your tray to you, explaining exactly how he had helped Sungchan prepare all of it when your husband returned. Sungchan sat down in front of you, and as he handed your son his plate, you noticed that there was nothing on it that could make too much of a mess if it happened to capsize.

“Sounds like you were a big help,” you praised your son, stroking the back of his head.

“He was,” Sungchan agreed. “Breakfast in bed was his idea.”

“Really?” You feigned surprise as Woobin nodded proudly. They didn’t need to know that you’d heard their entire bathroom conversation. “Thank you, sweet, it was a very good idea.”

After a very quiet breakfast, Sungchan took the plates into the kitchen, and you started making your mental list of tasks for the day. No vacuum—you weren’t a masochist—but there was laundry to do, and if Sungchan started the dishwasher before he left, it would be done and ready to put away before they got back from the park.

Just as you had put your feet over the edge of the bed to get up, with the bathroom as your destination, you were caught off-guard by Woobin trudging into your room with an armful of toys. He dropped them onto your mattress before hauling himself up after them.

“Hey…” You greeted him with an air of question. “What are you doing, Binnie?”

Sungchan must have spotted him on his way over, as he poked his head in right then, already laser-focused on your son. “What’s all this, bud?”

“We can’t go to the park,” he said matter-of-factly, beginning to sort out the toys that had gotten all mixed up in being carried over and dumped into a pile. “I’ll be quiet, promise!”

“I didn’t say we weren’t going at all,” Sungchan clarified. “I just said Mommy needed to stay home this time, because she’s not feeling well. You and I are still going. Minha and her dad are going to be there too.”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t like the park,” he declared, a stern pout creasing his face.

“What? You don’t like the park?” You asked.

“No,” he mumbled. “I hate it.”

You exchanged bewildered looks with Sungchan at this sudden development. Deciding to try again, you said calmly, “Binnie, I’ll go with you next time, okay? I promise. You have lots of fun at the park.”

“No. I don’t want to go.”

“Okay, no park,” Sungchan acquiesced. “But it’s such a nice day out, I think a walk sounds good. What do you think?”

“No.” He crossed his arms.

“Ah, you know, my head feels good enough for a walk,” you said brightly. “I think I’d like to go on a walk. Are you sure you don’t want to go, buddy?”

“Well… okay.”

“Alright,” you beamed at him, patting his cheek as he finally looked up at you. “Mommy’s got to shower then I’ll be ready to go.”

“How about you get out of your jammies too, Woobin?” Sungchan suggested.

“Go ahead, sweet,” you sent him off with one more pat.

Your son wordlessly got off the bed and left your room. As soon as he was gone, you look at Sungchan, utterly at a loss.

“What was that?” He whispered, following you into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you two.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“He loves the park! I mean, he loves going to the grocery store! He’s one of the most go-with-the-flow kids I’ve ever met!”

“He was obviously lying about hating the park. But why? His best friend’s going to be there, he’s been talking about it since we planned it at pickup on Friday.”

“You think it’s related to what’s been going with bedtime and naptime?” Sungchan paced in front of you. “I mean, what if it’s like separation anxiety? Or something?”

“But he loves you.”

“I know, I know.”

“He even went through that phase when he was a year old where he wouldn’t let me put him to sleep, it had to be you every time.”

“I know, I know.” He held his hands up. “I’m just saying… we might have hit a new phase.”

“But I could at least take him to the park without you. And he went to daycare. Now…”

“Hey, tomorrow, I’ll drop him off at school,” Sungchan said. “You know, so it’ll be gradual. The two of us at home, then just me, then he’s at school.”

“Channie, he wouldn’t let you take him to the park today.”

“I just think that if your choice is between leaving him crying at VPK or not, you’re going to be getting a new little TA in your classes tomorrow.”

You chewed on your bottom lip before sighing and nodding. “You’re right, you’re right. Okay, we’ll try your way tomorrow.”

“We’ll figure this out, hon,” he reassured you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. “But not right now in our bathroom while you’ve got a migraine.”

You hugged him back, burying your face in his neck and taking a deep breath. ��Yeah, you’re right. Let’s just worry about today right now.”

After your shower, you got dressed in peace and meandered out of your room to find Sungchan and Woobin by the front door. Woobin hadn’t quite mastered shoelaces, so your husband was helping him out. You slipped your own shoes on, and grabbed a pair of sunglasses on the table by the front door.

“Alright, ready?” Sungchan asked, having finished with your son’s shoes.

“Ready!” Binnie chirped.

You offered a thumbs-up, silently reaching to unlock your front door. Woobin went out first, eagerly bounding down the steps of your front porch. You followed after him onto the sidewalk as you listened to Sungchan lock up behind you, then catch up to the two of you with just a few large strides. The sun outside was painfully bright, even with your sunglasses on, and as you held up one hand to cast a shadow over your eyes, you reached your other out to grab Sungchan’s hand. He held yours firmly, even as you squinted and winced against the light, nearly missing a step when you walked in a brighter patch between shadows of trees, keeping you upright and on the paved path.

Woobin was just a couple steps in front of you, seemingly having a great time. He was talking to himself, interspersed with some singing, and of course pointing out anything he found remotely interesting to the both of you.

“Snail!” He yelled out enthusiastically, pointing to said small creature on the ground.

“Cool, buddy,” Sungchan responded encouragingly.

“Worm!”

“I see. Careful, we don’t want to step on him. He’s using the sidewalk too.”

That made Woobin giggle, giving the worm a wide berth as he stepped around it. You stepped over it.

The boy suddenly gasped, and stopped in his tracks as he pointed to a flower in one of your neighbors’ gardens. “Butterfly! Mommy, do you see it?”

You squinted in the direction he was pointing, finally seeing which one he was indicating. A dark butterfly on a bright yellow flower. “Yeah, Binnie, I see it. That’s a swallowtail butterfly.”

“Swallowtail butterfly,” he repeated, slowly to make sure he was pronouncing it right.

“That’s right.” You patted his head with your free hand.

“What other kinds of butterflies are there?” He asked as you continued your walk.

“Oh, lots,” you mused. “Your dad might know a butterfly expert, you know.”

He looked up at Sungchan with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Yeah, Dr. Hwang, one of my co-workers, she’s an entomologist.”

Your son furrowed his brows in concentration. “Entee— enah— innamolologiss.”

“Come on, let’s sound it out, bud: En,” Sungchan talked him through it. Despite his earlier teasing of you reading Breton lai to your son, your husband was just as much to blame for Woobin’s inflated vocabulary, always taking the time to teach him lengthy scientific terms for things.

“En.”

“Tah.”

“Tah.”

“Mol.”

“Mol.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

“Gist.”

“Gist.”

“Entah.”

“Entah.”

“Molo.”

“Molo.”

“Gist.”

“Gist.”

“Entomologist.”

“Enamolgist.”

“Yeah!” Your husband beamed, holding up his hand for a high five.

“What’s an enamolgist?” Woobin asked.

“A scientist that studies bugs. Like butterflies.”

“Butterflies aren’t bugs!” He insisted.

“They are.”

“But how can they be bugs? They’re butterflies!”

Sungchan laughed. “When you meet Dr. Hwang, you can ask her and she’ll explain it. She can also tell you all about all sorts of butterflies. Okay?”

“Your dad studies fish, remember?” You added. “Way different than bugs and butterflies.”

“And you study books!” Woobin said. “And stories! And reading! And writing!”

“That’s right.” You chuckled fondly. “Way, way different than bugs or butterflies or fish.”

By the time you got back to your house, you could barely open one eye enough to navigate the steps and get through the front door. It felt like you were being stabbed in your left eye, the pain shooting back through the entire left side of your head, and you patted Sungchan’s arm before wordlessly heading off towards your room. You beelined for your bathroom, knocking back another dose of the rescue medication you had in there.

As you clutched your eye with one hand and gripped the bathroom counter tightly with the other, the door was pushed ajar. You quickly went to drop your hand and throw on a smile, then saw it was Sungchan, who put another tablet into your hand, your second rescue medication in the dining room.

“Thanks, baby,” you mumbled, taking that one as well.

He sighed, but said nothing else as he rested a hand on your back. You covered both of your eyes as you turned into his chest, feeling when your fingers quickly turned moist. You took deep, shaking, quiet breaths. One of Sungchan’s hands cradled the back of your head while the other slowly rubbed up and down your back.

“Eye mask?” He murmured, referring to the cooling eye mask you kept in the fridge to help with migraine pain. It could also be microwaved if you wanted it warm instead.

“What’s Binnie doing?” You sniffed.

“Picking a movie for me and him. You’re going to lay down. Do you want your eye mask?”

“Yes, please.”

And so Sungchan grabbed the mask from the fridge for you as you crawled back into bed, handing you your earplugs from your nightstand drawer first.

You tried to refuse, eyes drifting towards your bedroom door. “No, but—”

“I’ve got him, hon.” He opened the case and pushed the earplugs into your hand. “You’ve done plenty, Supermom. Okay?”

You nodded slowly, pushing the earplugs in one at a time. He helped you adjust the eye mask, then pulled the covers up over you. You felt as he stood up from the bed and gave one final pat to your arm.

You woke up to find that the medication and nap had taken the edge off the migraine, at least. There was still a dull ache in your head, and you felt like shit, but it wasn’t the worst that you’d ever felt. You pulled the room-temperature mask off your face and set it on your nightstand before rolling over, fully intending on burying your face in your pillow and going back to sleep if you could.

You weren’t expecting to see Sungchan lying next to you on top of the covers, hand tucked under his cheek. His eyes were open, watching you.

“Hi, Channie,” you said quietly, taking your earplugs out and setting those aside as well.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, voice barely above a murmur.

“I’m alright. Still hurts, but not as bad,” you replied, reaching a hand out towards him. He grasped it, gentle but steadfast. “Where’s Binnie? Down for his nap?”

“Snacktime. I called in backup, though, my dad’s here.”

“I’m—” You stopped yourself before you could apologize, biting down on your lip before mustering up a smile. “Thank you. For taking care of me and buddy today. More than you usually do.”

“I wish I could’ve done more for you, baby,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“You were making sure our son was okay. He can’t use the microwave, I can manage my ten-thousandth migraine on my own.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“It’s not your fault,” you insisted. “You’ve been Superdad and Superhusband today. So relax, okay?”

“Alright.”

“How long is your dad staying?”

“He brought ingredients to make dinner. My mom’s coming when she gets off her shift.”

You smiled fondly at your in-laws’ kindness, and lifted the blankets up. “Five more minutes?”

Sungchan joined you under the covers, immediately wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. You held him close, savoring his familiar warmth and the comforting pressure of him laying practically on top of you. You curled your fingers in his hair, resting your cheek against the crown of his head.

“Ten,” he mumbled against your skin. “Ten more minutes.”

“Hey Professor, mind if we hang out in here?” A familiar pair of heads had poked into your office, two freshmen Raptors players who definitely weren’t in any of your classes this semester.

“Is there somewhere you should be?” You asked, gesturing to the couch across from you nevertheless. It made no difference to you if two adults decided to skip their college classes, you were more-so just curious. “It’s a bit early to be getting to campus if you don’t have a class…”

“Well, we usually have Coach Jung’s class right now, but he just sent out an email cancelling,” the left wing explained, dropping into one corner as his friend splayed out across the remaining two-thirds.

“And our next class is in this building, so we thought we’d see if you were in,” the right wing finished.

“What class do you have in this building?” You tried to keep a casual tone as you checked your phone for any missed calls or text from Sungchan that would clue you into why he’s suddenly missed his class this morning.

As they proceeded to rant about the 2000-level Grammar class they had signed up for in order to fulfill their Gen Ed requirements, mistakenly thinking it would be easy since it was only a 2000-level, you sent a quick text to your husband.

[you: just checking in. did drop-off go okay?]

Woobin once again slept in yours and Sungchan’s room last night, and though he was a little confused at his dad taking him to school today since you usually dropped him off on Mondays, there was no meltdown when you gave him his goodbye kiss. So far so good, until now.

“What classes are you teaching in the fall, Professor?” The left wing asked you.

“Oh, uh, I’ve got Lit Theory, Direct Study, and I’m teaching a Special Topics section in Contemporary Short Stories. We’ll mostly be focusing on magical realism, surrealism, that sort of thing,” you started rambling, still half-focused on your dark phone screen, waiting for it to light up with Sungchan’s reply. “I know neither of you are Lang majors, but it’s my first Special Topics class and I enjoyed having both of you last semester, so if you have a free slot in the fall, I’d appreciate it if you considered enrolling.”

“Hell yeah, that sounds cool,” the right wing grinned. “Is it going to be like, a bunch of essays, though?”

“There will be a final paper, but it will be mostly Socratic discussion, and the occasional short, one-page synthesis assignment,” you clarified. “No tests, no quizzes. As long as you read and participate enthusiastically, you’ll pass.”

“We’ll be there!” The left wing promised. “We loved your intro class. You’re like, one of the coolest professors ever, that’s why we asked.”

“I’m honored, boys, thanks,” you laughed.

“Coach Jung is cool too,” said the right wing, then he exchanged a mischievous grin with his friend. “But you’re cooler.”

“Oh, I’ve known that for quite some time, I assure you.”

“How long have you two been together?” The left wing asked curiously.

You twisted your wedding ring contemplatively. “Let’s see… We’ve been married for seven years, we started dating our senior year of undergrad, so… fifteen years? Yeah, it’ll be fifteen years this fall.”

“Wow. I didn’t even think you were that old.”

“What? Fifteen?” You chuckled, eyes straying to the picture on your desk of you, Sungchan, and Woobin from the party you held to celebrate his adoption being finalized.

“I mean, like, old enough to have been in college fifteen years ago.”

“Surprise.”

“So you met in senior year—”

“No,” you shook your head. “That’s when we started dating. We met freshman year. First day of classes, actually, if I’m remembering correctly. In one of Dr. Son’s classes, so that tells you how long he’s been teaching.”

“Wow, he needs to retire,” the right wing snorted. “And I mean that with his best intentions at heart.”

“Why are you two so interested in me and Coach Jung all of a sudden?” You questioned, tilting your head and folding your hands over your lap.

“Well, we see you and Coach Jung and our MVP all the time but, you know, we don’t know a lot about you, outside your jobs,” the left wing shrugged. “You two seem cool, you know?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “Where are you guys from?”

As they informed you that they were both from the same small town about five hours away, you nodded in understanding. Freshmen that hadn’t seen their parents since the holidays, a break that was only made even shorter by their being on the hockey team.

“You two are more than welcome to pop into my office whenever you happen to see me in here,” you reassured them. “And talk to me about whatever you want.”

By the time the players had left to go to class, you still hadn’t heard back from Sungchan, and you had your own class to teach. It was your Direct Study, which usually met in your office anyway since it was just two students. The conversation in this one was student-led, so as they evaluated what they thought the developing themes in the book were, bouncing ideas off each other, you tried to listen and engage earnestly, even as you stayed painfully aware of the lack of response from your husband.

You never forced them to stay for the entire block of time allotted for the class if the conversation didn’t need it, so when they were about done only forty-five minutes into the hour and a half block, you gave them the next chunk of the reading to do before next week, and bid them farewell. Then immediately left your office.

The Science building was across from the Lang building, and you headed for Sungchan's office first. If he was teaching a class right now, you knew it would be an Intro class and, therefore, most likely in one of the large lecture halls on the first floor, but you weren’t going to interrupt his lecture because he hadn’t replied to your message. You just wanted to check to see if he'd made it to campus yet. His office was on the second floor, past some of the teaching laboratories.

When you tested the door handle, you found it unlocked, and pushed it open. His desk lamp was on, illuminating the pictures he had there: one from your wedding day, another of the three of you from a hockey game, decked out in blue and orange Raptors gear, and a third of just you and Woobin from when he was a baby, the exact occasion you couldn’t pin down. He wasn’t in the office, but his backpack was on his desk chair, so he had at least made it to campus.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, and you looked to see that it was Sungchan calling.

“Hey, Channie,” you answered.

“Hi, hon,” he sounded a little out of breath. “Where are you?”

“Uhm, I’m actually at your office. I got worried…” You admitted.

“Oh, okay. We went to your office but couldn’t find you. Stay put, we’ll come to you.”

“Okay—Wait, ‘we?’”

“Yeah, uh, buddy’s with me,” he sighed shortly. “We'll be there in just a sec, okay? Bye, love you.”

And he hung up.

When Sungchan’s office door opened a few minutes later, Woobin was, in fact, the first thing that came through, immediately running to wrap his arms around your legs. Sungchan stepped through the door a moment later, looking disheveled as he took your son’s small backpack off his shoulder and put it on one of the chairs across from his desk.

“Hey, Binnie,” you greeted your son brightly, despite your alarm and confusion, hugging him back tightly. The harrowed look on Sungchan’s face was enough to let you know that this was something for you two to talk about later.

“Mommy!” Woobin was practically buzzing with excitement. “Mommy, guess what!”

“What, buddy?”

“Daddy said I can meet an enamolgist today!”

“Wow! That’s awesome,” you patted his head. “Did he say when Dr. Hwang was available?”

“I was just about to call her,” Sungchan answered. “We wanted to find you first, hon.”

“I saw some cool posters in the hall, Binnie,” you let go of your son and offered him your hand. “Let’s go look at those while your dad makes his call, okay?”

“Okay!” He took your hand and let you guide him out into the hall, shutting the office door behind you.

The first one you found was a diagram of a wetland ecosystem, taller than your head, and spanned the entire wall between two offices.

“I can’t see it,” Woobin craned his neck to look at the poster. “Can you pick me up, please?”

You hoisted him up by his underarms and onto your hip. “Is that better?”

“Thank you!” He then pointed to an animal. “What’s that?”

“Here, it’s labeled. Do you see?” You showed him the black line connecting the animal to its common name and scientific name. “Can you read that first one?”

“Spotted… sal… uh… man… der?”

“Spotted salamander, good!” You confirmed.

“So this one is a…” he pointed to another animal, following the line to its name. “Green… ana… con… da. Green anaconda!”

“That’s right, Binnie.”

The two of you were still on that same poster sounding out animal names, when Sungchan poked his head out from his office just a few doors down. Woobin was in the middle of a name, so you indicated to your husband to wait a moment before listening to the boy continue to sound it out. Sungchan walked over to join the two of you as Woobin had just finished his first attempt at the bird’s name.

“That was a good guess, it does look like the words ‘her’ and ‘on,’” you said. “But the animal is pronounced heron.”

“Hair-in,” he echoed slowly.

“You got it. Can you put it together now?”

“Great blue heron.”

“Good job, buddy,” Sungchan praised him.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, buddy.”

“Did you get a hold of Dr. Hwang?” You asked.

“Yes, she’s in her office right now and has some spare time.”

“Yay!” Your son cheered, starting to wriggle out of your grip.

The three of you trekked to the third floor to get to Dr. Hwang’s office. Dr. Hwang was an older woman who welcomed you in warmly.

“Daddy says butterflies are bugs,” Woobin said very seriously. “Is that true?”

Dr. Hwang looked at Sungchan very judgmentally, before turning her attention down to your son. “Butterflies are insects, yes.”

“But how? They’re butterflies!”

“They’re just one kind of insect,” she explained patiently. “What’s your favorite fruit?”

“Mm… Grapes!”

“Are grapes fruit?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And fruit is food, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Grapes are a type of fruit, and fruits are a type of food. Does that make sense so far?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the same thing with butterflies. Butterflies are a type of insect, and insects are a type of animal.”

He seemed to think very hard about this for a moment, then nodded satisfactorily. “How many kinds of butterflies are there?”

“There are about 180,000 different species of butterflies and moths. That we know about.”

His eyes practically bulged out of his head. “Woah…”

“Would you like to see some?”

“Can I?” He then looked back at you and Sungchan. “Please? Can I?”

“Of course, buddy,” Sungchan smiled, then looked up at his colleague. “If it’s alright with you, Dr. Hwang, my wife and I are going to step out for a moment.”

She waved you off. “Of course, go ahead.”

“Thank you,” you nodded to her gratefully. Patting your son’s head, you informed him, “Daddy and I will be right back, buddy.”

As Dr. Hwang directed Woobin’s attention to a book, you and Sungchan stepped out into the hall, shutting the door behind you quietly.

“What happened?” You asked him fervently.

Sungchan pulled you a little further down the hall, keeping his voice low when he finally spoke. “He was doing fine until we got into his classroom. Got his arms around my neck, wouldn’t let go… Kid’s strong for a five-year-old.”

“Two of your students ended up in my office after you cancelled class.”

“Yeah, I stayed for the first thirty minutes, to try to ease him into it, but then when I tried to leave again, the same thing happened except worse… Kept asking for you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was too much of a distraction, we had to leave. He didn’t stop crying until I told him we were going to see you.”

You nodded in understanding, not upset with Sungchan in the slightest. If you’d been in his position, you probably would’ve done the same thing, if not, gave in even sooner.

“Do you think…” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Do you think we should take him to see someone? See if it’s a phase or… something more serious? I mean, even if it is a phase, he’s clearly getting really upset about something…”

“Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea,” Sungchan agreed.

Dr. Kwon Hayoung was a younger woman, definitely no older than yourself and Sungchan if you had to guess, her posture relaxed as she sat in her mustard yellow armchair. Her entire office was colorful, filled with various toys, whimsical artworks, and plush, patterned pillows on the couch that you were currently sitting on with your husband. After lots of research, various recommendations from friends and colleagues at work, and an entire two weeks of Woobin being attached at the hip to one of the two of you, you had finally settled on taking him to Dr. Kwon. After an initial interview with all three of you, then just you and Sungchan (a task that was aided by the fact that Sungchan’s father had come along and occupied him in the meantime), she then evaluated your son, which required several breaks for him to see you. But finally, she had finished with him, and he went back to play with his grandpa while Dr. Kwon brought you and Sungchan back once again.

“There is nothing serious for us to be concerned about,” Dr. Kwon declared, her tone calm.

You and Sungchan exchanged an uncertain look. You cleared your throat, “Uhm…”

“I don’t mean to downplay the problems that your family is facing right now,” the child psychologist promised, readjusting her lavender purple frames on the bridge of her nose. “However, Woobin is developing typically for kids his age, which is good news.”

“Then why is he…?” Sungchan trailed off, his question obvious. Why is he doing all of this? So suddenly?

“You have been very open about him being adopted.”

“Yeah, we never wanted to hide it from him,” you said. “He even gets two parties every year, his birthday party, and we celebrate the day his adoption went through.”

“But he knows that he’s our son and we love him,” Sungchan added, shifting forward as his voice carried a slight edge to it.

“Of course, of course he knows that.” Dr. Kwon’s tone hadn’t lost any of the gentle kindness she began the conversation with. “Both you and he told me about another kid, in his class, who was not so understanding.”

“Yeah, it made buddy a little upset, but he seemed fine by the next day.”

“I do think he was fine. Until he had a recent dream, about falling asleep in his bed and waking up in someone else’s home,” she informed you, and you felt a harsh twinge in your chest as you realized that your son hadn’t even told you about that. “He’s not afraid that you two will give him away so much as he’s afraid that somebody will come take him from you.”

“Oh…” You breathed out, feeling yourself grimace as you thought about how scared your son must have felt since then.

Sungchan reached over to hold one of your hands. “What can we do? What are our options?”

“We can work on his anxiety, coping skills, attachment in sessions. Since it’s affected your daily lives as a family so much, I recommend starting at three times a week, and we can adjust from there. I would like both of you to attend as many as possible.”

“Of course,” you nodded quickly, squeezing Sungchan’s hand tight.

That night, after helping Woobin brush his teeth with his toothbrush and toothpaste that had migrated into your bathroom, you took your nighttime medication, then tucked it back away into the childproofed medicine cabinet. Sungchan was doing some late-night grading in your home office, but you had a five-year-old to put to bed on time, so you had started on that without him.

Woobin clambered up into his place in the middle of the mattress first, and you lifted up the comforter and blankets to slip in next to him. With the thoughts of his nightmare still weighing heavily on your heart, you called out to him quietly, “Binnie? Can Mommy cuddle with you?”

“Of course, Mommy!” He chirped, immediately taking it upon himself to scramble over to you under the covers and wrap himself around your middle like a koala.

You laughed, enveloping him in your arms to hold him to you even tighter. Pressing a long kiss to the top of his head, you then tucked him under your chin. Yeah, this was exactly what you needed. You had his next appointments set up with Dr. Kwon, and she hadn’t told you to change anything you were doing yet. So tomorrow you’d continue your new routine of bringing your son to campus with you and passing him between you and Sungchan—usually whoever was in office hours had him, or if you were both in a class, whoever had the smaller class. You had tried dropping him off at your parents’ house once, but as soon as he realized that you were leaving without him, he wouldn’t let go of your leg, his eyes started watering, and you immediately folded. Preschool was a no-go, as he had a soft, indefinite ban for the foreseeable future until he was no longer going to be a disruption. They were continuing to hold his spot at no charge to you, at least. It had been stressful, and there hadn’t been very long stretches of time in the past two weeks where you had been apart from him, but there wasn’t once where you ever felt resentful towards your son himself, you realized. He’s what you did this all for.

“I love you, Binnie,” you murmured, kissing his hair again. “Love you so much.”

“I love you so much too, Mommy,” Woobin mumbled back sleepily, his words punctuated by a yawn.

You smiled fondly, listening as the sounds of his breathing evened out as he drifted off to sleep. Not much later, and your bedroom door slowly creaked open. Sungchan quietly went about his own nighttime routine before finally shutting the bathroom light off and closing the door behind him. You were a little confused when he walked over to your side of the bed, though, thinking your son’s sippy cup that was sitting there might’ve needed a last-minute refill. Then you felt him raise the sheets and start squeezing himself in behind you.

“You’re going to fall off, Channie,” you whispered, trying to bite back the giggles bubbling up in your chest.

“Then make some room, baby,” he responded, his quiet words even more hushed by the fact that he was pressing his face into your shoulder as he readjusted.

You gently scooted further in on the bed, trying to jostle the child attached to you as little as possible, not wanting to wake him so soon after he’d fallen asleep—if he woke up now, he’d definitely be awake for another three hours at least. Sungchan scooched with you, molding himself around you after you’d gotten settled in again, and burying his face in the back of your neck. He slung an arm over your waist, his hand finding one of yours where it was resting on Woobin’s back, slotting his fingers with yours.

After some time, when you were sure your son was deep asleep, Sungchan spoke again, “I had a student ask me what death of the author is.”

You craned your neck to try to look at his face out of the corner of your eye. “In your bio class?”

“Yeah, I thought it was weird too.”

“Are they… in one of my classes? And thought that you would know because we’re married? And knew that we’re married?” Obviously there were pictures of you, Sungchan, and your son in his office, but since classrooms and labs were shared spaces at the university, professors didn’t decorate or keep personal belongings in there. The average Intro to Bio student wouldn’t have any reason to know that you and Sungchan were married just from attending lecture.

“That was my first thought, too. Turns out he had you last semester.”

You scrunched your nose in confusion. “Then why…?”

“Apparently, in your class, he met this cute Lang major, but she didn’t seem too impressed with him. Thinks he’s a dumb jock.” Sungchan’s chest vibrated with his chuckle.

“Because he doesn’t know what death of the author is? Is he failing your bio class, perchance?”

“No.”

“Did she actually tell him she thought he was a dumb jock, or is he just assuming?” You asked pointedly.

“He seemed pretty convinced.” Your husband grinned and nudged you with his shoulder. “Sound familiar?”

“What are you—Oh my god, you think that sounds like us?” You rolled your eyes. “I did not think you were a dumb jock! I just… didn’t think about you really at all.”

“Ouch.” His pout was still very visible in the dim light of your bedroom.

“Not my fault you opted to pine for three years like a loser instead of talking to me.”

“Words hurt, you know.”

You shook your head. “So were you able to tell him what death of the author is?”

“No. But he’s apparently trying to read along from your Brit Lit I syllabus.”

“So that’s why you knew Bisclavret the other day. He won’t get very far on his own, even translated, Old English can be pretty awkward to get through,” you warned.

“Yeah… So do you have any study guides?” He batted his eyelashes at you, and you once again rolled your eyes.

“Seriously? You should tell him to talk to her like a person. He won’t get anywhere if he’s constantly thinking of both of them one-dimensionally. Him as the dumb jock, and her as the smart Lang major,” you scoffed. “Sound familiar?”

“That’s a no on the study guide?”

“The Internet exists. And you didn’t get me by making me swoon over your knowledge of Breton lais.”

“True.” He clicked his tongue in the back of his mouth. “I’ll ask him if she has any chronic illnesses to tend to.”

“You didn’t stay with me during the Halloween party as some elaborate scheme to get me to date you. At that point, you still thought you were friendzoned. If my memory serves me.” You pointed out.

He yawned and nuzzled his cheek against your shoulder. “Perhaps…”

“You stayed with me because you’re a good, sweet guy, always have been,” you continued, taking your hand that he had been holding back to reach behind you and poke his leg. “That’s how you got me.”

“Aw, you still know how to my heart flutter, baby. Even after fifteen years.”

You smiled to yourself as he kissed your shoulder. “Yeah, you’re easy.”

“And still know how to wound me with so few words.”

“I love you, too, Channie,” you chuckled softly, taking his hand again under the covers.

“Only this easy for my girl.” He murmured, dropping another kiss to your shoulder. “Love of my life.” Another kiss, this one on your cheek. “Can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“We’re already married,” you said humorously, wiggling your entwined left hands pointedly.

“So? I can only talk about spending the rest of our lives together before we sign the marriage papers? Can’t do it while we’re actually living that life together and raising our son?”

“Well when you put it like that…” You turned your head to catch his lips with yours in a soft, sweet kiss.

Sungchan hummed into the kiss, pecking the corner of your mouth when you pulled away.

“I love you, my Sungchannie,” you professed as you’d done thousands of times before, each time thinking that you could never be more in love with this man than you were in that moment, and yet each time it felt like your love had only grown exponentially since the last time you said it.

“I love you too. My girl,” he replied, resting his forehead against yours. You didn’t need him to speak to know what he was thinking. The two of you were going to get through this. Even though right now, you don’t know exactly how, you would.

➠ series masterlist | blog masterlist

[its-hyperfixation]

"am i dreaming?"

Arthur realizes Merlin's got a little crush.

word count: 1.3k

for my beloved, @bellamyblakru <3 thank you to @sourdough-morbread for proof reading! <3

“Merlin! Merlin, where are you?!”

Ever since Merlin realized that he was hopelessly in love with Arthur, he had been avoiding him.

Or trying to at least.

For days, Merlin had been having strange sensations in his stomach and heart whenever he was near Arthur, and he had become worried that he caught some sort of disease. That is, until he went to Gaius with his symptoms, who only laughed at him before revealing what was really going on. That was two nights ago.

Right now, Merlin was hiding in Gaius’s wardrobe. That was his first mistake.

Arthur burst through the door, looking around frantically.

“Merlin!”

“What is it, sire?” Gaius asked, trying and failing to act shocked that Arthur was here searching for Merlin.

“Where’s Merlin?” Arthur stood with his hands on his hips, trying to hide the desperation he felt.

“Oh! He’s… he’s at the… tavern, sire,” Gaius replied as he glanced at his wardrobe. If he could see through the doors, he would see Merlin cursing the day they met.

“The tavern… At this hour of the morning?”

Gaius laughed, but it came out more like a grimace.

“What do you need him for? Is there anything I can do for you?”

Arthur hesitated, searching for an excuse. The truth was that he missed Merlin. And he was hurt by the manservant ignoring him all of a sudden. “Uh, yeah... he hasn’t… polished my armour.”

“Alright, I’ll tell him to do that immediately as soon as I see him.”

With a brisk nod, Arthur left, shutting the door behind him.

“The tavern? Again!?” Merlin couldn’t help but shout as he flew out of his hiding spot.

“Oops,” Gaius replied, having the decency to look a little sheepish.

An hour later, Merlin was still trying to muster up the courage to face Arthur when he realized that he could just go polish the armour in the armory and sneak away unnoticed. 

But what he didn’t know was that Arthur had had his armour placed in his room for this very reason. He was gonna put an end to Merlin’s avoidance.

Merlin entered the armory, looking around for Arthur’s chestplate and coming to a stop when it was nowhere to be seen. After asking another servant who informed him that the armour is, in fact, in Arthur’s chambers, Merlin’s face felt hot. How could he go in there after realizing his feelings? He’ll just be a blubbering mess in front of Arthur.

Filled with nerves and the overwhelming urge to jump into a hole in the ground, Merlin slowly made his way to Arthur’s chambers. After pacing for at least 5 minutes, he finally walked up to the door and knocked quietly, hoping Arthur wouldn’t hear it.

“Come in.”

Cursing silently, Merlin stepped inside while keeping his eyes down.

“Sire, Gaius said you needed your armour polished?” he asked innocently, looking around the room for it and making sure to not look at Arthur himself. Only there was a slight problem.

The armour was on the dinner table. And the king was standing right in front of it.

Arthur fixed Merlin with what can only be called a glare, his arms crossed in front of him.

“Merlin.”

The manservant audibly gulped as he looked up at Arthur only to look away immediately.

“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since two nights ago.” 

Merlin was shocked to realize that Arthur sounded… sad? He had thought he would be furious with him. He looked back up at the king before responding.

“Um, I was busy… sire.”

“At the tavern?”

Merlin's eyes widened as he blurted out, “No!” He scratched the back of his neck and looked around awkwardly before continuing, “I mean um… No, I was just helping Gwen. With… you know…”

He jumped slightly when Arthur cut in sternly, “No. I don’t know. Helping her with what, exactly?”

“Her… house? Yes, she needed some help with her house. It’s… broken.”

Arthur nodded slowly, staring at Merlin.

“Her house. Right.”

“Yep,” Merlin replied while looking a bit guilty.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Merlin finally glanced up to see Arthur looking completely dejected, his eyes downcast. Panic flared through him. What was wrong with Arthur?

Just as he was about to ask, Arthur snapped.

“Well, if you could remember your real duties and complete them on time for once, that would be great.”

Arthur turned and walked away as he said this, leaving behind a surprised and confused Merlin.

“Right, the armour…” he mumbled, completely at a loss. What was going on? Was Arthur angry at him?

After the most painfully awkward 20 minutes of his life, Merlin finally finished polishing the armour. Unsure of what to do next, he slowly approached Arthur who was sitting at his desk.

Arthur didn’t look up.

Merlin cleared his throat. Still nothing.

“Uh, sire?”

Silence.

“I‘ve polished your armour… Was there anything else?”

Arthur slammed the quill he was holding down on the desk before looking up at Merlin, startling him again.

“That’s it then? You’re just gonna leave like nothing is wrong?”

Merlin practically broke out into a sweat, confused and panicked by Arthur’s behaviour.

“What… what’s wrong, sire?”

Arthur abruptly pushed away from his desk and came around to stand directly in front of Merlin before answering, “You really don’t know?”

Merlin shook his head, his nerves in overdrive. He struggled to maintain eye contact with Arthur, his face starting to flush under the close scrutiny Arthur was giving him. The close proximity wasn’t helping either.

And at the worst possible moment, his gaze fell to Arthur’s lips.

As quick as he looked at them, he ripped his eyes back up to Arthur’s, with his face feeling like he had put it inside the fireplace.

Suddenly, Arthur’s demeanour changed completely. His face relaxed as he took a step back before his lips turned up at the corners.

“Oh. Now it all makes sense, doesn’t it, Merlin?”

Merlin felt sweat dripping down his side. What on Earth was going on?

“What?” he choked out.

“I know why you were avoiding me.” Arthur was smiling now, his eyes sparkling.

“You do?” Merlin blurted before mentally slapping himself. “I mean- I wasn’t avoiding you…”

Arthur chuckled lightly before replying, “Right. It was for the same reason that I missed you so terribly yesterday.”

Now Merlin was really confused, his brain scrambling to figure out what was happening.

Arthur took a step closer, causing Merlin to step back as his face burst into flames again. The tension in the room was becoming palpable and Merlin had no idea what to do. Arthur kept stepping closer until Merlin felt his back hit the wall behind him.

“Did you miss me?” Arthur asked.

Merlin could barely breathe, let alone speak. “Huh?”

Arthur put his hand on the wall beside Merlin’s head before continuing, “Did you miss me when you were avoiding me all day?”

Merlin was like a deer caught in headlights, his hands pressed to his sides, frantically looking back and forth between Arthur’s eyes. They were absolutely stunning from this close.

After another few seconds, Arthur spoke in a low, soothing voice, “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

With his heart ready to beat right out of his chest, all Merlin could do was nod slightly.

Arthur smiled again, moving his other hand to brush Merlin’s cheek.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he teased, admiring Merlin’s blush.

“Am I dreaming?” Merlin blabbed, his mouth completely dry. That was the only explanation for what was happening right now.

“Oh, so you dream about me?” Arthur giggled, “That’s good to know.”

“What!? No, sire- I mean Arthur, I-

Merlin couldn’t finish what he was about to say when Arthur pressed his lips against his.

After only a couple seconds, Arthur pulled back but only just. He smirked at the dazed look on Merlin’s face before asking, “Was that in your dream too?”

Merlin didn’t know it was possible to blush this hard.