#but yeah... this ask still lives in my head it still makes me chortle

[todayisafridaynight]

So you’re Asexual what’s the most Asexual thing you think you’ve ever said?

idk what the most Asexual™️ thing ive ever said was but according to this anon it was 'I always prefer platonic relationships'

[hyunsvngs]

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 - college bf!han jisung x fem!reader

wc: 3k

synopsis: there's an hour until your roommate comes back and your boyfriend is looking particularly delicious.

a/n: HI :3 i wrote it.... jisung not a complete sub.. i wrote it. as always thank u miss may and miss ems for proofreading for me <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: daddy kink, soft dom jisung maybe?, choking, sub reader, messy sex, reader has a wap, oral (m and f rec), doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk! jisung has a dirty mouth

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

there’s a scoff from beside you, and you jump in surprise when jisung wails, flinging his legs around. “baby! you’re not even watching the movie!”

you’re not, and you can’t even deny it. you’ve been staring blankly at your laptop screen where it sits on the edge of your twin bed, and it feels like you have seen this studio ghibli film with jisung a million times. you huff and try to curl up into his chest, and he makes a noise again, nose nudging your head incessantly until you look up at him. 

“are you bored?” he asks, eyes round. his bottom lip is jutted out into a pout, and you want to kiss it, want to litter kisses around his face until he’s blushing and giggling in his shyness. 

it’s been a few months with jisung now. he was so cool when you first met him, all baggy jeans and beanies and nail polish, and he even lives off campus. he has his own bedroom there, and you honestly wish you two were stationed there right now instead of anxiously waiting for your roommate to arrive, because you’d been thinking about sex with jisung.

of course you had. jisung had arrived to yours with his signature wide grin, messy curly hair and oversized flannel falling off his broad shoulders, and you’d immediately thought of jumping his bones. you let him into your room, curled up on the bed with him and let him choose the movie, and while you’d been waiting for him to make a move, he seems to not even be thinking about it. 

you’re not bored, you just want your boyfriend’s cock in your mouth.

“‘m not bored, hannie,” you shake your head solemnly. he tilts his head in confusion, and you feel bad for thinking such unsavoury thoughts about him. it’s not like you can help yourself, he just fucked you so good last time, and your eyes are going half lidded just from the thought. your legs on his shoulders, the headboard of his bed hitting the wall, his mouth on your tits, his fingers on your-

“oh my god,” he bursts out laughing, eyes crinkling. “jagi. are you being dirty right now?! i just wanted to watch a movie-”

“i didn’t say anything!” you whine, slapping his shoulder playfully, and jisung’s still chortling. he can’t help it, shoulders shaking, and when he finally calms down your cheeks are burning crimson. you grimace, embarrassment eating you whole. “sung-ah.”

he looks at you with a cocky grin, raising his eyebrows. “baby, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. i’m thinking about fucking you all the time. i’ve been hard since i got here, to be honest.”

the way he says it is so straightforward, so blunt, that it makes you scoff out a laugh. you love the way he can make you feel so relaxed by just being him, and so you cuddle closer, wiggling against his chest in delight when he kisses your forehead.

and then you realise.

“you- you’re hard… right now?” you ask, licking over your bottom lip. it’s hard to tell in his huge baggy jeans, but if you stare hard enough you think you can see his length pressing against his zipper. you feel jisung nod against your head, and you sigh, rubbing your thighs together with need. he’s hard right now, and his hands move to the denim to adjust himself. “i- can i suck you off, sungie? i want to so bad.”

the film has been forgotten. you still hear the audio blaring from your laptop speakers, and your eyes move to look at the screen to check the time. you still have an hour until your roommate gets back. 

“fuck. yeah, you can,” jisung nods eagerly. his hands move from his jeans to allow you access, and you’re quick to undo the button and the zipper that keep you from your boyfriend’s cock. he’s hard in his boxers, a wet patch of precum soaking through the black fabric, and you pull his jeans down all the way to discard them on the floor. 

jisung pulls his shirt up to above his tummy for you to see him in his whole, and you blink wordlessly at the sight of him, mouth agape. above his boxers, a v-line leads upwards into his slender waist before panning outwards again at his broad shoulders. his abs clench and unclench under his skin in anticipation, and you run a fingernail down one, watching him quiver. he grins cockily, but his chest is heaving already, and you get so irritated at his confidence that you lean down instantly to mouth over his clothed erection.

“shit,” jisung whimpers, hand moving to clutch the headboard behind his head. “fuck, yeah. suck daddy’s cock, my baby. pull it out, c’mon, c’mon-“

“jisung,” you huff, eyes stern when you look up at him. he pushes his fringe from his eyes with his free hand, licks over his lips, and you’re still glaring. “let me play.”

he does. he lets you mouth and dribble all over the fabric of his boxers until they’re soaked through, material almost turning transparent with your spit, and then you finally yank the waistband down to rest underneath his balls. they’re so little, so round and full, and they almost push his shaft upright for you with how swollen they are.

you lick over his balls and he gasps, thighs twitching. “mm, god, fuckin’- hnnnfg, hot little mouth, baby,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut, and you’re so desperate you can’t help but lean upwards to suck his cockhead into your mouth. you run your tongue on the underside of his tip, right where it’s sensitive, and his hands fly to your hair so fast you think he might fuck your throat. “don’t be mean to me, yeah? not today. not today, my baby, be good for daddy.”

“mm,” you hum, letting his shaft fall from your mouth. with a grip around his base, brushing past his dark pubic hair, you slap it against your tongue a few times. jisung’s eyes roll back into his head. “i’ll be good for daddy. daddy likes me dirty, huh?”

“f-fuck yeah, my baby,” he nods, enthusiastic, and when your head ducks down again to taste him his knee jolts so hard he almost kicks you. “daddy loves you d-dirty, ooh- oh, that’s- baby, makin’ my cock feel so good.”

you let him tighten his grip onto your hair, and then you bob your head. jisung’s length always presses at your throat uncomfortably but you can’t help but crave the pressure, sucking hard every time your head drops and letting your lips muse wetly over his shaft on the way back up. jisung’s hips kick up when his cockhead finally kisses the back of your throat and you gag, eyes watering, and he’s quick to pull you off of him by your hair.

a string of your saliva connects you to his length as you pout up at him in question. “i’ll cum, don’t- don’t do that,” he says, breathless, and you giggle. it’s hoarse but jisung still smiles as if you’ve charmed the socks off of him, and you blink in question when he finally takes his flannel and his tee off, dropping them on the floor. he’s so delicious, honey skin stretching over tight, lean muscle, and his abs tense while you ogle him.

in a brief second, you’re pinned to the bed, jisung’s lips against yours. jisung always kisses filthy, tongue all over your lips and drool slicking down to your chin. you let him force his hands to your sleep shorts, and he’s impatient when he yanks them down, rings cold against your skin. you’re so whiplashed by the whole situation that you pull your t-shirt off yourself, breaking the kiss, and jisung looks like he’s about to cry.

“oh, baby,” he murmurs, eyes wide and fixated on your chest. your nipples pebble against the cool air and you can’t help but writhe on your bed, smiling bashfully at your boyfriend. before you can get insecure or even the slightest bit embarrassed jisung’s shoved his face in your chest with a deep exhale. his curly hair tickles you and you laugh, thighs kicking up. “daddy’s home, babies.”

“jisungie!” you slap him on the shoulder playfully, and he retreats with a little huff of amusement. finally, his eyes drop lower, and his hands smooth upwards on your thighs. he licks over his bottom lip, eyebrows raising, and then he’s slowly moving closer. 

“mm, let me taste it first,” he murmurs, and you squeak when he wraps his hands underneath your asscheeks, yanking you down the bed. he wastes no time, curly strands covering his eyes as he smothers his face in your cunt. jisung’s a little theatrical when he eats you out, you think - he positively growls into your pussy and almost cums in his pants every time - but he swears its a reasonable reaction. 

he swirls his tongue around your clit and then he’s pursing it between his pretty lips. he flicks it with the tip of his tongue, and you moan, high pitched and airy. when your hands move to his hair, tugging the strands a little, he finally sucks the bud hard. it feels like he’s driving you insane, your thighs twitching and brain floating off into a less embarrassed, entirely more horny headspace.

“a-ah! ah, daddy! daddy, my pussy, ‘s- daddy, more,” you whine, and he can’t deny you ever. his tongue flicks over your hole and then he licks a fat, wide stripe up your folds. his mouth dribbles your wetness as lubrication to dirty your pussy up even more, and it practically talks to jisung when he sucks your folds into his mouth. “more! moremoremore, gimme, gimme, pleaaaaase!”

fucking his tongue over your clit again, jisung growls, and the vibrations ring through your body like you’ve been struck by lightning. you grind your hips upwards into his mouth, and he only shakes his head against your pussy enthusiastically, smearing spit and slick over your heated skin. 

“hnnfg- ahhhh! ah, my pussy! feels s’good, my pussy feels so good, jisungie, daddy,” you babble, drunk with it. jisung’s hips kick against the bed once, twice, and he whines against your pussy when you wrap one thigh around his pretty head to keep him smothered. you ride his face with it, and jisung just can’t - he can’t handle it, tapping your thigh incessantly in a wordless expression.

you unhook your leg from his head and he moves quickly, leaning over you to give you a chaste, wet kiss tasting entirely of you before he’s pushing you onto your side on the bed. he slides behind you, chest pressed up against your sweaty back, and you feel his cockhead rutting against your hole.

“i guh- i gotta fuck you now, i’m sorry, so sorry,” he’s ever so respectful, huffing out a breath against your shoulder. “c-condom? want me to- to use a condom, baby?” 

“n-no,” you slur, pushing your hips backwards. you feel drunk on him, needing more than him to fuck your cock into you until you’re crying with it. “fuck me, please. p-please gimme it, sungie.”

he slides home in one thrust. jisung’s not huge - he has a delicious case of boyfriend dick, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp every time. you’re still not used to it, and you make an internal vow to fuck your boyfriend ten times more.

“see? you d-don’t- don’t have to be mean to me,” he whimpers at a particular slick thrust. his hand goes to your inner thigh, pushes your leg up at an angle that has you shaking, pussy squelching around his cock. “daddy will fuck you good, see? i can do it. i can do it.”

“yeah! yeah, mm- d-daddy can, daddy can,” you babble, hiccuping on a wet noise from your throat, and jisung groans. he shifts closer to you, grips your thigh a little harder, and the bite of his rings into your skin makes you gasp. his hair tickles yours on the back of your head, and then his spare hand shuffles from underneath your waist to your throat and grabs. you can’t help but keen. “daddy!”

“ssh, s-ssh,” jisung murmurs, and you have half a mind to tell him he’s being just as loud, if not worse. he’s panting and whimpering behind you, hips rutting his chubby cock into the slick hole you’ve provided for him. “baby, you’re fuckin’ wet. wet little hole, s-so- so little, so tight on my cock, i- fuck, baby. i c-can’t!”

he can, and he proves it by gripping your throat a little tighter, his balls slapping against you harder. the change in pace ruts his cockhead against that spongey spot inside of you and you wail with it, incoherent wet noises leaving your lungs. 

“y-you’re fuckin’ my pussy so good, daddy,” you croon, eyes watery with it. he fucks you a bit harder in apology for your strained voice, but it only makes you moan louder, fingers moving upwards to grip the pillow under your head. you think you could rip it with how good he’s fucking you, and you feel his thighs bounce behind your legs to fuck you harder. 

on a particularly wet thrust, jisung’s dick slips out of you, and you whine at the same time he does. he fucks it against your hole messily, trying to slide it back in, and he huffs impatiently. your hole gushes desperately, the wetness leaking onto where jisung bumps his cock into you, and it squelches messily. 

“you’re too wet, she’s talkin’ to me,” he moans, but you know he loves it. you grind your ass against him a little more to tease him, and he sits upright sharply.

“sungie, no- no, keep trying, daddy!”

he tugs at your ankle impatiently and you flip onto your stomach, letting him crowd into your space. “c’mon, c’mon, baby,” he ushers, and you hear the slick sounds of him stripping his cock behind you. he whines with it, and then his spare hand taps your ass impatiently. “hands and knees. let daddy fuck you from behind, god, please.”

you have to. you’d do anything he wanted, and so you prop yourself up, back arching into a perfect position for him to slide back home. he can see a little better like this, and you fuck your ass back onto his cock for him to watch the slick slide of him entering you over and over. when he grips your ass, spreading your asscheeks for a better look, you hear him let out a stuttered breath and you know you don’t have much time left before he’s done.

“i gotta- baby, you gotta cum for me, yeah?” he says, quiet, and then he’s leaning over you. his chest presses against your back, and the sensation of your skin rubbing against his peaked nipples makes him lose concentration for a moment, steady pace haltering. “fuck! fuck, baby, you gotta cum, i’m gonna cum, i will-”

“d-daddy, please! i’ll try, i’ll try- i- i’ll be good, i’m good,” you babble, hand moving down to rub sticky circles on your clit. you use your wetness to lube it up a bit more, indirectly brushing against the base of jisung’s cock. jisung lets out a keen at the touch, his arms wrapping around your waist to bounce you backwards as he fucks into you. the pace gets quicker, and you feel his cock throbbing incessantly inside of you.

“still not used to fucking this cunt, n-not used to how perfect you are, baby,” jisung murmurs, and his language makes you gasp, gummy walls clenching down around his chubby shaft. “oh! oh, i don’t think i ever will be, baby, fucking clench on me again!”

you do, almost subconsciously with how your fingers speed up on your clit. it’s wet and messy with how much you’re gushing around him but the circles seem to be enough to get you close, your tits bouncing as you move on your boyfriend’s cock. before you know it, you’re cumming, a loud keen leaving your lips as you soak his shaft. you’re sure there’s a white ring of your cum forming at his base right now, soaking his pubic hair and dripping to his balls, and the thought makes you clench down harder.

“fuck! yeah, baby! that’s it, like that, clench on me, good g- oh, oh! oh, i’m gonna-”

his body practically collapses on you when he cums. you realise he must have been holding it back for a while because he wails too, cock pumping heavy loads of his cum inside of you. when you turn to him, his eyes are rolling back into his head, little pants of air leaving his lungs as he fills you up straight to your cervix. 

thirty seconds later, jisung’s still collapsed on top of you, his head leaning on your shoulder.

“jisungie,” you say, and then you have to clear your throat. “jisungie. you okay there?”

“i think i died,” he mumbles, and a bit of drool leaks to your skin. you giggle, reaching back in an awkward position to ruffle his hair. “pussy’s too good. oh, when’s your roommate back?”

“um,” you blink at your laptop, still playing the movie from earlier. the device is hanging off if the bed and you make a conscious effort to kick it back on with your foot. regardless, it’s only been twenty minutes and you want to laugh. jisung’s just too sensitive - he always gets too worked up to go very long. “like, forty minutes or so.”

“ah, great, i’m not moving,” jisung cuddles closer to you, cock still soft and resting inside of your walls. after a short while, he inhales, and you feel his eyelashes tickling you as he blinks rapidly. “wait, we only fucked for twenty minutes?!”

you ruffle his hair again, a fond smile on your face. it’s an awkward position, but you’ll do it for your boy. “don’t worry about it, sungie.”

“mm,” he responds, unsatisfied. “fine, but next time we’re going for twenty hours.”

“huh?!”

[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

[hoshigray]

Hiii!! I rlly love your work & I appreciate you! Ty for ur writing <3 I was wondering if you could do something where reader convinces Toji to let her do his makeup and and and and she straddles him while he’s laying down to do it 🥺 maybe reader gets a little confident n bratty bc of the position n it gets a little spicy ? if you’re feeling up to it ! 🌲💕 this is my first ask so please lmk if my etiquette is off!

Oh, no worries, noonie! Your etiquette is okay, and your request is so cute like wth!!? :00 I worked on this after coming back from my trip, so apologies if this doesn't seem to be in my usual writing style. Also, to make this funny, I tried makeup for the first time while I was away!! Lol, so the experience really came around for this ask, so I appreciate it and hope you like what I jotted down! Other than that, hope you had a wonderful weekend ♡

Cw: Toji x reader - fluff mostly, but it gets suggestive at the end - grinding (m! receiving) - thigh riding (?) - impact play/spanking (2x) - pet names (baby, princess, pumpkin) - putting makeup on Toji <3 - reader and Toji being adorbs omg stop hehehe~ Wc: 1k

"How long is this shit supposed to be?"

"Sit still, will you? I can't work with you constantly moving."

"Tch, you're lucky I'm lettin' you do this because of a bet."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Open your eyes so I can see how it looks." Begrudgingly, Toji opens his eyelids to reveal the emerald eyes you're familiar with. "Okay, close them again."

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon. You and your boyfriend hang out at your place to chill, spending time cuddled up on the couch and watching television. It was your usual weekend routine, being close o your boyfriend like this. However, today was different compared to the other relaxing days prior.

Here you are on your living room couch, straddling Toji's lap with your hands occupied by a palette of green and gold eyeshadow in one and a brush in the other. Reason why? About two days ago, Gojo and Toji got into an argument as they usually do, something about their favorite sports team going against each other. Your man then had the fantastic idea to bet on his team, saying he'll do whatever Gojo says if his team doesn't win.

Why was the idea fantastic? Frankly, it's no surprise to you and the snow-haired other that Toji cannot win a bet to save his life. So when the score showcased the apparent outcome of the older man's loss, Gojo took his win in playful pride. And the punishment? Well, mounting on top of him today should explain it.

"You know, you got a pretty nice eye shape. You're pulling this look off quite nicely." Dadding his closed eyelid with the brush, you paint lime green atop the dark green eyeshadow cascading around his eyes. You chose to do nothing too audacious for the man, as you're just taking pictures and sending them to Gojo afterward.

He scoffs at your comment. "You said that about twenty minutes ago with the other shit you put on me."

"Yeah, well, can't blame me for admiring my handsome man being so fetching. If I slapped a nice dress on you and headed to the club later, I'd bet you'd have a line of men and women trying to ask you out."

"You tryin' to say I'm hotter than you, pumpkin?" He lifts a brow and then snickers after you bonk him in the head with a white highlighter pen.

"Shut up and stay still so I can put this on." You use the pen to apply by the corner of his eyes. Now two white hearts are harbored close to the bridge of his nose. After asking him to open his eyes again, you maneuver around to ensure that both eyes are even. And you beam when you feel accomplished with what you've done. "Perfect! Alright, onto the next part."

"The liner thingy?"

"Yup!" He chortles at your enthusiasm while you grab the item from your makeup bag. Closing his eyes again, you work on the bottom of his lids to form a steady black wing that ventures out. You giggle; who knew doing makeup on your boyfriend would be so much fun? Maybe I should put him in a dress.

With a gleeful attitude and a merry hum, you swing your hips around as you work. But you halt when you feel Toji's hands come to your hips, and you stop moving.

"Hold on there, baby." Toji's hands rub your hips. "Movin' too fast."

It doesn't click you until you realize the position you're in. Your legs still slip apart to sit atop his lap, your bottom directly above his groin. And that's when an idea pops up in your head, unable to fight the grin sneaking up on your face.

Your hips move once more but in a slower motion this time. Toji opens the eye you're not working on to look at your face, but you don't acknowledge it and just continue applying the eyeliner.

"I know you heard me the first time." A silent giggle confirms his suspicions.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Close that eye up." He gives you a furrowed look, yet he does what you instructed, allowing you to examine your work before laying the black material on his other eye. And as your hips continue to apply pressure on his crotch, Toji groans at the motion.

"So you're just gonna act deaf on me, huh."

You bit your lip to conceal the giddiness in your smile. But then it's replaced with an abrupt shriek from your lips when a sudden smack of pain comes down on your ass. "Oww!! Hey, quit it!"

"Quit what?" Now it's his turn to act dumb, giving him a glare while Toji chuckles.

"Whatever. Let me finish this up." You grumble while laying the last strokes of your eyeliner, yet you still grind on Toji. And you can feel the tent of his sweatpants slowly protrude. After a few seconds, you close the eyeliner and put it into your bag. "Now for the final touch. Some cute lip gloss for you...Ahhhh!! Toji, stop it!"

"Then quit grindin' up on me, brat." he snarkily warns you, rubbing his hand on your ass after hitting it again.

"Why? Hate that I'm making you hot and bothered like this?" Your hips grind harder on his tent, and he exhales with scrunched brows. He scowls at you, lidded emerald eyes branding holes into yours. But you don't falter and resume acting tough. "Don't want me to give you attention for being so pretty?"

Before you get an answer, Toji grabs for your ass and shifts to stand up from the couch, and you scramble to warp your arms around his neck before you stumble off the older, muscular man. He walks out of the living room with your arms. And he throws you down to the bed of your room with a tiny 'oof' coming from you.

"You wanna give me some attention, huh?" Toji crawls up on the bed and kisses your lips while sliding a hand down in your leggings, fingers nestling and pushing onto your soaked panties. Your whimpers are taken by his mouth as he kisses your neck. The gloss on his lips leaves sticky marks where he places them. "How 'bout you sit there and look pretty fr' me, then?"

"Mmmph...At least, let me take a picture of your makeup," you say with eyes sewn shut. "Gotta send it to—Ahhmmm..."

"Later," Toji withdraws himself to take off his sweatpants. "In the meantime, lemme fuck the shit outta y'r cute and bratty ass, princess."

[xxblairexxss]

Saving your bacon

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x medicstudent!reader

Theme : Light on angst, more heavy of fluff

Word count : 3.4k

I feel like something’s missing but I’m not sure what it is and I don’t wanna keep this in my draft so I’m just gonna drop and dip. Oh, and I wanted to switch up and play around with reader’s personality instead of sticking to one so this time around, reader is more (idk how to explain) but more bright????? And I also don’t want to write her as someone struggling with her studies just because I think I have seen the same plot a few times around so let’s just say she enjoyed doing what she did. I know you asked for more angry Charles but for some reason I found him more of a people pleaser so it’s hard to write him getting angry at the crowd. 😭

Warnings, inaccurate medical term and procedure, as usual.

Requested!

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles was catching up to his favourite series, all sluggish and slothful on his day off when he heard your footsteps and humming got closer and closer to which he immediately took a cushion near him and laid down, pretending to sleep.

“Oh?” Your little skip stopped when you reached the living room. You were so, completely sure he was awake because you sworn you heard him laughed at one of the jokes on the television a few minutes ago. Stepping closer, you saw the way his lashes slightly fluttered as he bit the inside of his lip, holding his smile from exposing his little trick. “You are not sleeping!” You called out and chortled, quickly placing your medical files on the tea table before diving into his embrace, making him groaned from the sudden impact. “I caught you!”

“You got the wind knocked out of me, baby.” He moved a little so you could settle down by his side. “What do you need me to do today?”

“How do you know I was gonna ask for your help?” You cackled in his arm at the way he looked completely unfazed with your requests by now.

“Because this isn’t the first time. I just knew how your steps would sound like if you needed my help.”

“Yeah? How does it sound like?” You sat up and his hand snaked its way under your shirt instantly.

“Can’t explain it in words. Lay down or sit up?”

“Lay down! Wait,” You took back your medical files and scanned through your notes. “Oh, wait! No, no! Sit up and turn that way.”

“That way?”

“Yeah! And close your eyes! I’ll be right back.”

Charles had his eyes shut, sitting up straight facing the balcony of his apartment while trying to catch up with the dialogs coming from the tv series he was watching. “No way! I missed the important scene, did– ouch!” He jolted to the front when something cold was pressed on his neck, sending shiver up to her head. “Babe, what was that?!”

“Ice pack! Sit back down!” You pulled him back and placed the ice pack back on what you imagine the pain would be.

“It’s cold! Can’t we just pretend to use an ice pack instead of– cold! Babe, it’s cold! Instead of using actual ice pack?” You held him by his shirt to stop him from moving away while you repetitively went back to scan through your notes.

“Stay still! I’m trying to get these right! Oh, I need to move it in circular motion and never let it sit for more than 20 minutes on the same spot.” You leaned against his back and giggled. “I nearly gave you frostbite!”

“Are we done yet, babe?” He tilted his head to the side to catch your eyes, while still obeying every instructions.

“Wait, let me do one last check on the C1 and C2 first.”

Charles had always been your some sort of medical dummy ever since you started your medical school residency. You would always come to him whenever you needed to revise some of the notes that you had written as you went through different types of medical or surgical problems. Thought it looked more like you were trying to disturb your boyfriend’s peace, it actually helped you a lot. And though it looked like your boyfriend was trying to hide and ran away whenever you needed his help, he was actually excited to be apart of your dummy, claiming to be his some sort of contribution to your career.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Oh, this is sour! Babe, give it a try.” His face was all wrinkled up as he tried to feed you the fruit to which you refused. “Try it.”

“I don’t like sour berries!”

“It’s good though.” He popped another one into his mouth and shivered when the sourness hit, causing you to laugh.

“Your face doesn’t seem like it. I think I picked the wrong batch, baby. We need to let it ripe a little longer.” You sprinkled some salt into the the pot before letting it stir. Charles was too busy chumbling on the berries to realise that you had been staring at him with your arms folded.

“So,” You spoke and he stopped chewing.

“Why? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, but let’s say you come in with your nose bleeding.” You moved closer, half leaning your body against his side with your head tilted up so you could admire his pretty face.

“Ah, so we are doing this?” He pushed the berries away and propped both hand on the kitchen counter. “Okay, let’s pretend my nose is bleeding. What’s next?”

“And I asked you how did your nose bleed. What would you say?”

“Babe, I’m completely lost with whatever topic or disease you are proposing right now.” He hummed, eyes wandered away to think of an answer. “I would say “How I would know, doctor. That’s your job to find out.””

“Charles!” You bursted out laughing and he chuckled along, casually left a soft pinch on your cheek.

“I don’t know, pretty. What should I say?”

“Let’s say you got into a mild accident a few hours ago but you refused to go to the hospital because you thought you were fine but then!” You dramatically gasped and Charles’s eyes widen in amusement. “Then you started feeling blockage in breathing. This is one of the symptoms for?”

His lips curved downwards as he shrugged. “I don’t know. Flu?”

“Wrong!”

“Dang it, that was my best shot. What is it then?”

You giggled and stood on your toes to kiss on his cheek. Charles would always try to answer your questions though he never got any of it right but you just found it adorable how he never gave up because he said he would get it right one day. “Septal hematoma! I need to drain it before it collapses your nasal bridge.”

“Really?! Wow, never knew that. How do you drain it?”

“You are gonna fall asleep before I even start explaining the first procedure. Oh, are we still going to the event tonight?”

“What event?” He raised his brow and his mouth went wide when he realised about it. He was talking about an event a few weeks ago and you decided to tag along. You were rarely seen attended any of his weekend events. Even more after you started your practical and though he never said anything about it, you still felt guilty about it, especially when you saw his pictures at any events that you didn’t attend, all alone while most of his friends would have their partners by their side.

He was a little dubious when you told him you wanted to attend his next event. He didn’t want to make it seems as if he was forcing you to do something that you didn’t want to because he knew both of you have different schedules and accountability as a student and an athlete, or public figure. You had to reassure him that it was something you wanted to do, not because you felt like he was forcing you in some sort of way. A fresh breath of air was the reason that you came up with, professing that you needed to get away from your cases this weekend.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Are you sure you want to go?”

“I’m all dressed up!” You clipped on your left earrings and gave a little twirl. You had chosen a satin dress with crisscross backless as it would be the perfect dress considering the event was more leaning towards an informal night out vibe. “Why?You don’t… want me to go?”

“No, that’s not what I meant, babe.” He held your hand, wrapping both of his and your arms on your waist as he turned you around, making you faced the mirror. “You are literally the most beautiful doctor I have ever seen.” He stared at your reflection admiringly, giving a soft smile when he locked his eyes with yours in the mirror and pecked on your neck.

“Nice try, handsome but I’m not a qualified one yet.”

“But you will be.”

“Not if I fail my residency.” You spun your body to face him, hands on his shoulders as you found yourself getting butterflies from seeing his face up close, even after all these years.

“Did you forget how many times you made me suffer with all those on hand practices? It’s impossible for you to fail.” He stole a kiss on your newly applied gloss and left the room before you could scream at him.

“Stop kissing me when I got my lip gloss on!”

“Can’t help myself. Come on, we gotta go.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Is this normal?” You blinked as Charles made the final turn towards the entrance of the club. There were tons of people with cameras hung around their neck gathered in front of the building. They would congregate towards every cars regardless of who it was.

“No, not at all. It might have something to do with the other event that is happening at the casino, I think.” Charles saw you clasped your hands together on your lap and knew what you were feeling even when he didn’t see your face. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little surprised.”

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna leave you behind. Don’t let go of my hand okay?” He unbuckled his seatbelt and was going to unlock the door, when he stopped himself. “No, babe, hold on. Wait for me.” You retreated your hand from the shotgun door as he hopped off the car. Charles handed his car key to the valet staff who greeted him as he walked around to get to your side. You saw the flash went off, following your boyfriend all the way to your side. Though the front windscreen window was half tinted, you could still see how bright it was.

“Ready?” Charles leaned in, one hand gripped on the door seal and other arm at the end of his car roof to make sure you felt safe and had the people blocked before your could step out.

“Ready!”

He offered a hand, while keeping his other on still gripping of the weatherstrip so the door wouldn’t be opened too wide. “Don’t let go of my hand, okay?” He brushed his lips on your cheek before moving away so you could step out.

The first few interactions with the fans were fine. He was handed notebooks, caps, and shirts to be signed. Even a few selfies here and there. You were gripping on his jacket, a little uneasy when you heard a few men with cameras started shouting and scream. At first it sounded far, as if it came from the casino so it shouldn’t be a problem to you. Soon enough, the shouting went louder as if it was brought closer to you by a wave and the fans who were asking for Charles’s autographs and pictures began yelling out to stop the shove and push. Charles heard the commotion and intertwined his hand with yours before making his way to the building before it got any worse.

The flashes suddenly went off to your direction and you could barely see where you should placed your heels, your free hand immediately tried to shield your face. Even some of the fans from earlier started to get shoved around, some even used it as an opportunity to take closer pictures of both you and Charles.

“Charles..” You breathed out, feeling yourself getting pushed. You could feel the crowd getting closer as you tried go get out of the way. He didn’t reply but you could feel his grip on your hand getting more firm as he tried to step away from the crowd.

“Don’t push!”

“Give them space!”

You kept on hearing the words being shouted over and over amongst the crowd but you still felt all closed up with them getting closer and closer regardless of the orders. You let out a gasp when you lost your balance as the crowd started pushing one another, causing a few of them to accidentally inclined towards you.

He stopped and turned back, looking all worried. “You okay? Baby, here. Hold my arm.” You regained your composure and held, more like clinging on his arm while your other hand still fully secured in his. It felt like forever for you to pass your way through the throng, even with the help of the person in charged because none of them even bother to listen and kept on pushing one another towards you.

“Stop it!”

You heard another howl from one of the crowd when you stumbled back as few people were pushed in front of you, the impact caused your hand to slip away from Charles when you tried to move away from the pack of people, your arms were pressed on your chest while you swayed back and forth from constantly being pushed from every sides.

“Y/N– excuse me!” Charles tried to get back to you but he got pushed back by the crowd even more.

“I can’t– !” He heard you called out to him before your voice was swamped with voices amongst the number of people.

You tried to wrap your arms around your body, feeling as if you taking up the space was the reason why you felt suffocating and squeezed up but a sudden shove caused you to jerk forward. You tried stop your fall with your hand but the impact sent a jolt of pain on your wrist. The pain made you wince as you tried to retract your hand but it was stepped on over and over by the number of feet around you.

“Charles, here.”

He was pulled out from the crowd and was being assisted, more like dragged towards the entrance of the building before he stepped back. “I need to get back to my girlfriend.”

“Leave it to us.”

“No.” He sprinted back out and tried to scan amongst the crowd. It got a little under control now that they had enforced more people in charge though the pushing and shoving was still going on.

“Please let me pass..” It took you a while to get back on your feet and tried to squeeze your way out when a camera was thumped on your face, causing your head to tilt. You couldn’t see anything else other than constant flash and light. You started choking back tears and dabbed on your philtrum when it felt like something warm trickled down your nose.

You tried to move away, hand kept on wiping your philtrum as the blood was still leaking down your nose when you felt a firm grip on your arm, yanking you away and out from the crowd. Charles had saw you in the midst and just grabbed on whatever he could get. The grip was harder that he had wished for but he needed to get you somewhere safe, regardless whatever force he had to use.

Your face was forcefully crashed against something hard but you were too beat to repudiate that you continued to cry against the embrace. It was when the familiar scent hit you when you finally realised it was your boyfriend.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. I’m so, so, sorry.”

You refused to pull away, your whole body was aching but the stroke on your hair and the strong grip on your back made you feel safe, away from the furore. “I was– “ You sobbed. “I was so scared.”

He could feel you trembling in his hold, your head tried to look back to make sure you were really away from the people. “Y/N– Y/N, look at me. Baby, look at me. You’re okay. I got you. You’re okay.”

He leaned away but you could still feel his body latching against yours. “Fuck, you’re bleeding.” Holding your face in his hands, he started scanning through your pretty face. That was when he actually saw the bruise on your temple, your bloody nose and your flushed cheeks. When he caught you by your arm earlier, he was a little at eased as it felt like you weren’t harm but you were far from it. You kept on sobbing, your hand wiped on your tears that was threaten to fall from your chin. “Let’s go home, alright? I’m taking you home.”

Charles wrapped his arm on your waist as you leaned against him while he tried to get you to his just newly parked car.

“Y/N, a picture!” One of the paparazzi snatched on your sprained arm, causing you to shriek in pain.

“Hands off my girl.” He pushed the guy away, feeling so close to land a punch on that face but he had to hold himself from causing any scene that he knew would feed these people even more. Instead of placing his hand back to your waist, he lifted you up in his arms as you placed one arm across his neck, the sprained arm to your chest. He didn’t know you had any other injury because your hand was out of his sight the whole time.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Is your nose still bleeding?”

“I think so…” You dabbed the tissue that Charles had given to you when he got in the car and still found a fresh, wet blood stained.

“Keep on pinching your nose, alright?”

“Where did you learn how to treat nosebleed?” You tilted your head to the side and stared at your boyfriend in surprise.

“From my doctor girlfriend.” He gave your hair a stroke and pressed on the pedal as the light turned green.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Baby, stay there. I’m gonna get the first aid kit.” He left you and rummaged through the kitchen drawers. “Let’s treat your wrist first.”

You winced and pulled your arm away when he wanted to place it on his lap. “It hurts..” You didn’t think it was that bad but it still hurt. The tears started to fill your eyes again but you looked away so it wouldn’t roll down onto your already wet cheeks.

“Oh, was it too harsh? Sorry, baby.” He scooted closer and tried to place your hand on his lap more gentle this time. “Here. I’m gonna use– yeah, I’m gonna use the one with velcro.”

“Do you know how to do it?”

“Yeah, I have seen you did it to me before.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

flash

Charles groaned a little when he heard you placed all sort of stuffs in front of him. “Babe, can I borrow your hand?” He heard you whispered as you sat cross legged on the floor.

“Right now, baby? Let me sleep 5 more minutes.”

“You can just keep on laying down.” You replied as you pull his hand from under his head. He was laying on his stomach on the couch before you disturbed his peace with the first add kid and your notes with you. “I just need your hand.” He is still in the same position, just his arm dangling from the end of the couch.

“Like this,” He heard you kept on murmuring, as if you were chanting something whilst he was trying to get back to sleep. “and this,” He peered at you first with a frown and soon after a smile formed on his lips. “around the thumb,” You were completely focused on wrapping his hand with the compression bandage, completely unaware and thinking he was still sound asleep. He would always find the little wrinkles in between your brows whenever you were too focused on some things made you look so adorable so instead of dozing back, he was gazing at you with fondness.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“I thought you were asleep when I wrapped your hand!”

“I wasn’t. Your little mumble kept me awake.” He rolled the elastic compression bandage around your wrist one last time before securing it with the velcro. “There you go. Did I do I right?”

“Yeah!” You held your now fully wrapped wrist. “I think you did it better than me.”

Charles had left you again to get an ice pack and you leaned against the back pillows. You were expecting neon lights and loud music before you left the house, not coming back with bleeding nose, bruise, and a sprained wrist.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah, just a little overwhelm. Can we cuddle?” He then took a spot next to you, ice pack still in hand as as you leaned your head on his shoulder. His hand is on your back while you propped your legs on his laps.

“How did you get those bruise on your head?”

“One of the man accidentally hit me on the face but I don’t think it was on purpose.” You were playing with his necklace when dabbed the ice pack on your temple, causing you to move away. “It’s cold!”

“Oh, so now it’s cold? Was it warm when you dabbed it on my neck for no reason a few days ago?” He pulled you closer to dab the ice pack back on your bruise. “Baby, stay still!”

“I’m getting brain freeze! Stop it!” You giggled and pushed him away.

“You are overreacting! It’s not even 20 minutes yet.”

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj

if your usernames were crossed meaning I can’t tag you 😭 let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist! or if I missed anyone!

[warspbunny]

"Did you really not do the project work you were supposed to do,little girl?" Daddie asks as he drags me into the living room. He pulls me into the middle of the couches,on my feet and rubs his temples "you know how important this is to you,right?"

I roll my eyes and scoffs "yeah yeah" i flop down on the couch,sitting and crossing my legs,my phone already in my hand as i reply messages from friends. Daddy looks at me,surprised and pissed at my audacity. He definitely didn't tell me to sit so who gave me the order. He steps over to me and drags my phone from my hands

"HEY! my phone" i frown "who told you to sit while I'm talking to you?" I roll my eyes and a hot slap landed right across my face. Daddie slapped me,i thought as i held my right cheek,my kitty warming up with little juices. He grabbed my face and turned it "i asked you.. who told you to sit the fuck down?"

Loving the treatment and knowing daddie was probably loving it too,i frown and brought out my tongue,showing my brattiness,dismissing questions again. Daddie let's go of me,my tongus retreating into my mouth, and slaps me hard again on my left cheek. This time,harder,if that was possible. My cheek stinged and it hurts so bad. As tears gather my eyes so did my kitty warm up more and soak my panties even more.

I started crying. I always loved when daddie made me cry. It felt so good. So refreshing and so hot. It showed his authority and power. It showed my disposal towards him and with my panties being wet right now,it showed daddie how much i love his slaps on my face. But the next part i love the most.

"I'm sorry,baby" he said and i felt a knot in my womb. A flood was brewing between my legs and my womb was knotting. "Come here sweetie" Daddie said as he sat down and pulled me in,assisting me as i climbed and sat on his legs. Sitting down,i felt his bulge. He liked this. Such a pervert. I rest my head on his shoulders and sniffles "You're so mean,daddie" i sit up straight and hit him on his chest causing him to chuckle with a little bit of sadness on his face

"You were being such a bratty little girl. Daddie had to remind you who you were and who i was. Even though daddie doesn't like hitting you and making you cry"

"You're such a big liar daddie. Your cockie is hard amd pressing against my pwincess parts,so you definitely like it" i say as i clean my eyes,pouting

"Hmmmm~" Daddy sits up,adjusting,causing me to rest on his chest and causing my butt to shoot out behind me,raising my gown up and showing a little bit of my baby blue panites. I yelp softly as daddie right hand finds his way to my butt and his left arm around my waist,probably to hold me down if i was to struggle "D-d-daddie,what are you doing?"

"You say i like it" he moves his hand under my butt and brushes softly,with his fingers,against my soaked panties. I blush and bury my face against his shoulders "but who's the one with a really really soaked up baby panites?" he chortles "ish nut soaked up! And i no like it!!" I whine as i fall deeper and deeper into little space "really,baby?" he rubs gently against my hole,my panties still on "you really don't like it?" "No,d-daddie" "i see,honey. Well daddie doesn't believe you.. why don't you prove to daddie you don't like it and don't cum,huh?" My eyes widen at what he just said. My wetness grew even more and as my clit hardens,he scoffs,causing me to blush cause i knew he knew i just grew wetter with what he said.

He continued rubbing on my hole causing me to squirm on his lap. He moves his hand further in and presses gently on my clit. He begins rubbing it in circles,gently,just like daddie knew i liked it. Then back and forth and side ways. He continued this for a while. Occasionally finding his way and rubbing circles on my hole. It had always been so easy to squirt with clitoral stimulation ever since i met daddie. And seeing as he knew what to do and how to do it, I feel my kitty open up and i knew i was close to squirting my panties and soaking up daddie's Jean trousers.

"D-addie stop" "awwwn why princess?" I jolted as his words and voices ran through my body and towards my kitty. I begin panting heavily as i knew I'd squirt very soon "don't you want to prove your big strong daddie how strong his little baby girl is?" He said as he rubs on it harder in the same directions. I let out moans,squirming and biting on daddies shoulder softly,covering it in saliva. "I thought you wanted to prove daddie wrong and show him how strong you were. Are you giving up,my little girl? Are you showing daddie he's much more stronger than you are, once he has your tight" he moves his mouth closer to my ear,causing me to leak a little bit of squirt "fuck" i moan against his shoulder "little.. baby pussy in.."

Letting out a loud moan,aching my back and interrupting his words,i squirted. Soaking up myself and my daddie's. He lets out a low laugh as he watches me in all my glory. My tongue out and my eyes at the back of my head. I pant and flop completely against him. "F-fuck" i grunt. He laughs,rubs on my back and kisses my neck "you didn't prove daddie wrong but you sure did a good job at proving daddie you'll always be a pathetic little thing once he touches your pretty little body and baby pussy"

"Shut up,daddie" *i lean back and folds my arm,pouting and blushing while looking away. He raises his hand to my face and caress it,causing me to melt and rest my face against his hand. His hands smelling deeply of my own juices "you know,we aren't done yet,honey" "w-what do i have to d-do,daddie?" He raises his hips and thrust lightly against me. "Oh" i blush "mhm~ get down baby" he spoke and i got off of him and knelt in front of him. He spreads his legs open and i avert my eyes in embarrassment seeing my own squirt all over his trousers and the couch.

"Come on,baby. Don't keep daddie waiting" he chuckles as he places his elbow on the top of the couch and rests his head on his hand,looking down on me so uninterested. I let out a low moan as my clit hardens slowly again. I move closer to him,still looking at him. Loving the way he looks at me like he doesn't care. Like i don't matter to him. I'm just a cum dumpster. A baby flesh light for his cock and as i unbutton his trouser and zips it down,i can only hope he continues acting non-chalant.....

[zeegaazeegaah]

Hii, can you make a Gavi imagine about him being jealous or something like that, it would be amusing to read. I love your work, thank you!💕

A/N: Before I begin I request you people to not put imagines under his name tag. Someone recommended it. I really appreciate it but please keep the tags all fanfiction related (i.e. - imagine, - x reader, - blurb). I do not want what I do light-heartedly and as a hobby, to reach the wrong audience. Please. None of us want that.

xxx

jealousy; gavi

word count: 963

Gavi enters his house to see her shoes near the doorstep. One thing about his girlfriend is that she is very serious about cleanliness. Even though she never stays over, she makes sure to keep his house neat whenever she can. He had asked her to not bother but she insisted it helped her get her mind off things that stress her.

He is late today. She never really stays over for that long. Another thing about her is her seriousness about her future. She takes her uni life undeniably seriously. Always arrives at his home an hour or two earlier than him and gets as much studying done as possible yet she never misses a chance to spend time with him whenever she can. He admires this trait of hers.

Usually, they spend whatever time both of them have by cuddling and making out and have debate on silly things that don't matter but she always makes sure to leave his place before midnight. However, it's about 1 am and her shoes near the doorstep imply she is still there.

At the unusual sight, he tilts one head to the side, eyes narrowing while doing so. He is visibly confused. She would've greeted him normally but now she is nowhere to be seen. He slowly unzips his jacket and drops his backpack. Something tells him to tiptoe in his own house and so he does.

He tiptoes into the living area. He doesn't notice at first but then his eyes land on her head peeking from the couches. It's as if she was trying to hide from him but what he notices has his mouth wide open. She not only has his controller in her hands (he doesn't mind at all if that's what it seems like) but also has her eyes glued to the gigantic screen before her which shows what she is doing. She is not only playing FIFA but it seems she had bought Pedri before.

He lets out an amusing scoff, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall to watch her play for a couple of minutes more, initially assuming she would notice at some point but she didn't. She is way too immersed into the game.

This led him to walk up to her and plopping down on the couch as if nothing happened. To which, she jumps and turns the screen off before them like a reflex action. She lets out an awkward laugh and proceeds to make an awful attempt at acting normal. "Ah, you're back. I was waiting for you."

Gavi observes the entire ordeal. He is amused but he is equally jealous as well. He can't help it for some reason. She bought Pedri. Did she buy him? He sends her an overly sweet smile before turning the screen on and pointing at it, "Did you buy me?"

She grimaces before replying. "Well, if you know I didn't, why do you ask?"

The stressed expression on her face has to be the most adorable sight he has witnessed in a while. And that makes him even more jealous. Why'd his adorable girlfriend not only not buy him but buy his best friend?

He wiggles his brows at her, "Why Pedri?"

"Ew, dude. You're my boyfriend, what's with that face?"

"I'm merely curious." He shrugs.

"Well, I am curious. You talk about your best friend all the time and I wanted to observe his-"

"Through a game?" He cuts her off with a chortle.

"Yeah?" She narrows her eyes at him, not liking the way he is behaving. "Do you want me to go up to him randomly and tell him 'Hey boyfriend's best friend, can you show me some kicks?' like asking him to do a twirl for me?"

He bursts out laughing so hard he has to clutch his stomach at some point as it starts cramping. "You could just show up at our practice one day-"

"Absolutely not." She flinches away.

"Why?" He presses on, curious to know the reason.

"It's awkward!" She exclaims as if it's the most obvious thing ever.

He finds himself breaking into a small smile. His eyes not leaving her face as his cheeks heat up. One of his hands reaches behind her back and begins to draw circles. Her eyes crinkle at the gentle gesture, a soft smile forming on her face as he looks back at him.

Then he remembers he was jealous just a moment ago and fakes a cough while leaning away. "You still should've bought me."

Gavi doesn't know his lips form into a pout as he says that. He is not aware of how cute he is and can get more so as time goes by. This time she looks at him amused and leans towards him. Her hands reach to clasp his larger hands in hers and draw on his palms. He looks down and can't help but smile before looking into her eyes. She holds eye contact with him before leaning to cushion his lips between hers.

It's soft when he tugs her bottom lip between his. He smiles when he has to chase after her lips every time she breaks away to either gasp or giggle. It's full of admiration when they hold their gazes the entire time and don't think of rushing for once. It's full of love and silent understanding when they finally break away and he envelopes her in a hug, resting his head on her shoulders. It's full of peace, even for just a short amount of time when she reaches to rake her fingers in his hair and his eyes close as he breathes in the smell of her shampoo.

He really can't stay jealous of her. Not at all.

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Wishful Thinking - dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter 1 - Texas Sun

no outbreak | dad’s best friend | mutual pining and lust

Pairing : dbf!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings : mdni 18+, pining, mutual longing, fingering, dirty talk, use of pet names, age gap (reader is 26, Joel is 48)

Word Count : 2k

Summary : A quick trip home to say hello for Easter leaves you breathless when Joel Miller makes his presence - and his needs - known.

Your dad throws his arms around you in an impossibly tight bear hug, and you grunt, rolling your eyes before lithley wrapping your arms around him in return. 

“You know, you saw me last month, dad.” You huff, rolling your eyes as you pull back. Your dad chortles in his very “dad” way, and shakes his head. 

“Too long, buddy. Too long.” He says, ruffling your hair like he used to do when you were a kid. You swat his hand away and laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“Are you gonna pester me all day, or can I come inside?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. Your dad grimaces, making his nose crinkle as he steps aside for you. 

“Jeeeez, grumpy.” He mutters, but you just laugh as you haul your duffel bag into the foyer. Your brother wasn’t coming home this holiday, so you figured why not? Don’t want the old man to get lonely. You set your duffel bag at the foot of the stairs, wandering into the living room as you slide your jacket off. 

“Hey, darlin’. Long time no see.” A gruff voice rings out, and when you look up, you freeze. It was Joel. You knew Joel, you’d known Joel for a long time. He was your dad’s closest friend, he had moved into your neighborhood the summer you turned 16. But this felt different. 

He had a blue flannel on, his brown eyes sparkling as he looked at you. The sun filtering through the window hit his graying hair and you felt…breathless. You clear your throat and nod. 

“Yeah, hey, Joel.” You say quietly, offering a small, sweet smile. His eyes flicker and you look away just as your dad comes back into the room, handing Joel a beer. You roll your eyes and glance at the TV. Of course, spring training, baseball. You sit on the arm of your dad’s recliner, eyes trained on the tv for a moment, then you sigh and stand up. “‘M gonna put my things upstairs.” You mutter, hauling your large duffel bag onto your shoulder again. You had taken the train to your dad, and you felt gross. A shower would wash everything away, including the weird flutter in your stomach that you felt when Joel had looked at you earlier. 

Joel. Why had you reacted that way when you heard his voice? It was as if all your senses had stopped working as soon as you saw him. No, as soon as you heard him.

You drop your bag in your old bedroom, rifling through and picking out a pair of shorts and an oversized crewneck. You pad your way to the bathroom, turning on the water, making it as hot as you can stand it. 

But it’s no use. It doesn’t help. Anytime you close your eyes to wash your face or rinse your hair, you keep replaying the moment Joel called you darlin’. Not that he hadn’t called you that before, but something about it felt…different. When you step out of the shower, you pat yourself dry and run a comb through your wet hair, drying your body until you can pull on your shorts and sweatshirt. 

Picking up your discarded clothes from the floor, you shuffle back to your room and throw them in the closet. You hang the towel on the back of the door and stretch. While Joel is still on your mind, you feel admittedly more fresh-faced than when you arrived. 

The golden sun looks so enticing that you grab the latest book you had been devouring, deciding to head out to the enclosed back porch. Heading down the stairs, you stop briefly at the bottom, where your father and Joel continue to watch baseball. 

Taking a deep breath, you pass, heading through the kitchen to the enclosed back porch, heading for your favorite spot, the couch. Peach colored, pilling, and old, it was the coziest couch you’d ever sat on, and it was your favorite place to read. You sit, tucking your feet underneath you and cracking your book open. You bend the spine, smirking a bit at the look of horror your book-loving best friend, Dolores, had given you when you cracked the spine of the book. 

Humming contentedly, enjoying the Texas sunshine coming through the window, you get lost in your book. 

So much so, you almost don’t notice when Joel leans against the doorway. Almost. Dragging your eyes from the heavy boots, to the jeans that hug those absolutely delicious thighs, all the way to the patch of chest hair peeking out of the top of his blue flannel, and you feel your mouth go dry as you settle finally on those dark brown eyes. 

“Now what are you doin’ out here, all by your lonesome?” He asks, stepping all the way into the porch and shutting the door quietly behind him. 

You raise an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same.” You say, untucking your legs and swinging them to the floor. You watch Joel scan your legs and smirk a bit. 

“Your dad’s snorin’ like hell in there -” He says, rolling his eyes and eliciting a bubbling laugh from your lips, which earns you a smirk before he continues. “So I came to see what a pretty thing like you’s doin’ out here.” 

You stop, heat flushing your face, and if you had to admit it, your core, too. You press your thighs together, trying not to let on how much he’s affecting you. 

But he must know. He must know, because he advances even closer to you, and you swallow as he stops right in front of you, close enough for you to touch. 

“So. What are you doin’ out here?” He asks. 

“Reading. What’s it look like?” You reply back, holding your book up briefly. 

"Yeah?" He breathes, eyes shifting down to where your extra large sweatshirt brushes the top of your thighs. "Be a sweet girl and spread those pretty thighs for me." 

Your mouth goes dry, as he leans down, one arm on the cushion behind you and one on the armrest, caging you in. Heat pools to your core and your gaze becomes a bit bleary as you stutter “I…what?” 

“Now c’mon sugar, do I need to ask twice?” He whispers, gruff voice smooth as honey as he takes one, large calloused hand brush against your collarbone before running up the expanse of your neck, gripping your jaw and tilting your face up to meet his. 

God, you almost moan, with how incredibly aroused you are. You lean back, legs falling open without much thought. No thought about where you were, that Joel was your dad’s best friend, just pure longing for the man with his hand around your jaw. 

You see the smirk on his face and he brushes his lips against yours, muttering. “Sweet girl, you need to give me permission before I do anything.” 

Eyes fluttering you nod. “I..yes.” And then he’s on top of you, lips claiming yours greedily, nudging your legs gently back up onto the couch, settling himself to hover over you. 

You kiss back, hand instinctively finding purchase in his hair as you both breathe heavily through the carnal lust that’s driven you to this point. You feel his fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, and you lift your ass to help him pull them down. 

Tilting your head back, you feel Joel kiss the column of your throat and you gasp a bit, letting out a little strangled moan. You had no idea just being kissed could light every sense you had on fire, making you feel like you were drowning in longing. 

Joel trails a large hand along your thigh, higher and higher until swiping across the wet spot on your panties. “Jesus, mama, so wet for me already?” He teases and you huff out a breath. 

“Did you come out here just to tease me? Because I can -”

“Easy.” He says softly. “Easy. Let me make you feel good. No more teasin’, sugar, I promise.” Joel runs two fingers lightly on the outside of your underwear, pulling a whimper from you that he easily swallows with another kiss. It’s slower, more sensual this time, like he was building you up for the next sense he’d plunge your body into. 

He carefully pulls your underwear to the side, using his thumb to stroke your puffy clit. You gasp a bit, smiling into the slow, sloppy, sensual clit. Joel hums, enjoying that your body was so responsive to him. His tongue runs along your bottom lip before dutifully entering your mouth, kisses slow and saccharine while he made you feel absolutely filthy elsewhere. 

“God, so fuckin’ wet -” He murmurs, fingers rubbing along the seal to your pussy, eyes lighting up with desire when you squirm underneath him. 

“Please -” You gasp. “Need you, I really need you inside me.” 

Joel smirks, and then one thick finger pushes inside you slowly, pumping. The soft, squishy sounds of your pussy around his finger has you in a haze, and your lips leave his, head falling back against the cushion behind you. 

“Eyes on me.” He growls, using his free hand to snake into your hair and pull your face to his. 

With half lidded eyes, you whimper, mouth falling open in a silent squeal when he adds a second thick digit, curling upwards in a ‘come hither’ motion against the spongy walls of your pussy. Biting your lip, you reach down and grasp at his wrist, but he doesn’t relent. Pulling his fingers out of you, he makes sure you're watching as he brings them to the flat of his tongue, licking them clean. 

Your pupils are blown wide, and when his fingers reenter you, you want to cry from how good it feels. You buck your hips, breathing heavily as you feel the tension in your core quiver, and Joel speeds up his ministrations, watching your face closely as your breath hitches. His thumb presses hard to your puffy clit, making you whimper, biting your lower lip so hard you think you draw blood. He rubs, hard, all while curling his fingers so perfectly. 

“That’s right, mama. Give it to me. Come all over my hand, huh?” He whispers, dragging his nose down your jaw, pressing soft kisses there. 

You can’t take it any more, your eyes flutter, your head falls back, and your thighs close, walls clenching around the thick digits of Joel Miller’s hand. 

Joel whispers sweet nothings in your ear as you come,  sweet girl, pretty baby, sugar, doin’ so good for me. 

As you shake and shudder from the orgasm he brought you to, you open your eyes to see those dark brown ones watching you. 

“Hey there, sweet girl. Welcome home.” He says, pressing one small, tender kiss to your lips. 

You blink. “H..hi.” You croak, a bit breathless as he slowly pulls your panties back aside, sliding your shorts back up. He backs up, using gentle hands to help you sit up again, placing your book in your lap. He stands up, adjusting himself and clearing his throat. Joel faces you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

“Wait ‘til I get my hands on you next time.” And with that, he kisses your cheek and disappears back into the house. 

You sit there, breathless, aroused, and mildly confused. Next time? You lick your lips, head falling back onto the couch. Maybe this visit home would be worth it.

Opening your eyes, you shakily pick up your phone, immediately calling Dolores. You needed advice. "Lola?" You say immediately.

You needed more of Joel Miller. And that thrilled and terrified you.

[icycoldninja]

I’m sorry I just love this idea so hear my out: DMC 3 Dante X fem gf reader where they have like a really cute and fluffy late night call (basically phone pillow talk) cause y/n’s parents forbid her from dating Dante

Alright, here it is, extra fluffy! Enjoy! 💜

Secret chat (DMC3! Dante x Fem!Reader)

Giggling softly, you crept towards your bedroom door and quietly slipped out of it, padding down the hall to your parents' darkened bedroom. You pressed your ear to the door and listened intently for any sounds of movement or talking, but were thankfully only able to hear soft snores. Glad that they were finally asleep, you returned to your bedroom just as silently as you'd exited it and shut the door carefully before snatching your phone from your nighstand, leaping into your bed and sliding under the covers, a wide smile on your face.

Your fingers practically trembling with excitement, you dialed your boyfriend's number and (im)patiently waited for him to pick up. After two rings, you heard a click, followed by his voice.

"Hey, babe, miss me?" A massive grin erupted on your face as you eagerly responded,

"I sure as hell was. How are you?"

"Good, pretty good...been missing you a lot though. Folks still being hard-asses?" You nodded, sighing softly.

"Yeah. They caught me texting you once and threatened to cancel my phone service if I contact you again, so now I can only call you when they're asleep."

"Damn, that sucks. Can't wait for ya to get the hell outta there and come live with me...think of all the cool shit we could do together," Dante chuckled lowly, his voice echoing through the phone. "Could cuddle all day 'n night...no need to look over our shoulders cause we're free as birds." You laughed, adjusting your position and pulling the covers further over your head.

"I'd love that, but I love my parents, even if they are bit strict. I can't just up and leave."

"Yeah, alright," Dante sighed, though there was a tinge of laughter in his voice. "Should've guessed--my girl is the sweetest and most loyal chick to've ever lived." You felt yourself blush at the compliment, and unintentionally out a small grumble-whine. "Aww, what's wrong?" Dante cooed, laughing some more. "My girl not know how to take a compliment?"

"Shut up," You retorted, jokingly, before changing the subject. "So, did you do anything interesting today?" Dante let out a long exhale before responding,

"Nah, not really. Well, I did kill this giant demon lizard with 400 eyeballs, but not much else. You?"

"I mostly just missed you all day."

"Aww, baby..."

"What? It's true! I miss you whenever you're not around."

"Ah, you're so sweet. I miss you too, y'know. I love ya."

"I love you too, Dante." At that moment, Dante yawned, prompting you to yawn as well.

"Ya tired?" He asked, yawning again. You nodded, sighing and rolling over.

"Yeah..you?"

"Very." He yawned again, then groaned; judging by the cracking of limbs your heard in the background, he was stretching. "Wanna go to bed?" You hesitated, before shaking your head and responding,

"Nope, I wanna stay up and talk to you some more."

"What? C'mon," Dante sniggered playfully, "You'd pick me over a good night's sleep? Now I know you ain't thinking straight."

"How can I?" You giggled, grinning. "I'm crazy over you."

"Ah, you're just butterin' me up," Dante chortled, "You're so sweet and I love that 'bout you. Well, to be honest, I love all of ya."

"I love you too, Dante," You answered, blushing madly. "I love you so, so-" You paused to yawn, "-much."

"You sound real tired," Dante remarked, "No wonder, it's almost 2 A.M. Go get some rest, babe, otherwise your pretty face'll have dark eye circles."

"Ok," You conceded, reluctantly. "Love you, baby."

"Love ya too, sweetcheeks. Sweet dreams. Can't wait till our next secret chat."

"Me too, Dante, me too," You agreed, puckering your lips to make a kiss sound that Dante could hear. Then, you hung up, turning your phone off and sliding it back onto your nightstand before curling up under your blankets and getting ready to drift off to sleep.

[that-basic-simp]

Smile

Mizu x Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.1k+

A very rare moment, yet fleeting one, was seeing Mizu smile. An even more rare moment was hearing her laugh. And when she did either of them, I cherished it. I cherished those moments with her because she has not known peace in a long time and for her to be loose and at peace like that, it meant everything to me. For her to be like that in front of me, I wanted to rid of every thing that would stand in her way just to ensure she could smile and laugh on a normal basis. But with her past, it was hard to come by.

She'd have spells of nightmares where she'd remember those times of her youth and her previous relationship. To when both her husband and mother betrayed her in a sense. It took a long time for her to trust me, but I had shown her time and time again that I would never betray her. Not even after she left for London and didn't return for a very long time. I was just worried sick. And when she did return, it was a moment of relief for her and I. Now we could settle down for a bit, but it was hard for her to return to a peaceful life after living one in constant fear and blood.

Upon her night returning home to me, we celebrated well into the late night and early morning. But it wasn't the typical celebration that most would think. It was just her and I, sitting, drinking tea and her recounting the events that happened in London and beyond. How she had to adapt to not only the clothing style, but the fighting style. Like Fowler brought guns to Japan, London was more technologically advanced for the time period. So it was hard for her to fight at times. I remember the one conversation we had when she came back.

"Holding a gun is easy, being able to shoot one off is hard," she said, staring into her reflection of the tea. "A gun makes killing people a lot easier than a sword or a spear ever could."

"Is it because there's no effort into it?"

"It's like what Swordfather told me. A sword is a line between life and death. A gun takes lives easier than a sword. I have to put in the effort because I know that if I don't, I will get hurt. Or even killed."

"But you were successful."

"That I was," she said, sipping her tea.

I smiled, "I knew you had it in you."

She smirked, "What are you talking about? Are you saying you doubted me?"

"Who knows? Maybe I was," I chuckled.

That smirk turned into a smile, and before I knew it, it turned into a small chortle. My heart fluttered as she tried to hide that smile behind the cup of tea. Reaching over, I lowered it and found her smile. The smile that always made my heart soar whenever I saw it. The smile I loved seeing and whenever I do, makes me realize how much I love her. How I have fallen head over heels for her the minute I saw her take down Taigen with ease.

"Mizu," I whispered.

"Yes, Y/N?" she asked, her smile still lingering as we found one another's eyes.

It was that night when we slept together in a long time. A mess of wrapped up and entangled limbs. Just how I liked it. And in the morning, it was even better knowing that she didn't have to leave, but she still trained. She didn't have to anymore, but she still wanted to retain that talent she had with the sword. And I'd sit and watch her from the porch as she swung her sword with ease. Moving back and forth fluidly like water. Like her name.

For the most part, after she returned home, was the same thing day in and out. Wake up in the morning, eat breakfast, she'd go train, and then I'd do some things around the house. It was a routine both of us had to get used to. But spending it with Mizu made it all the more better.

"Mizu?" I asked one night while we were eating dinner together.

"Yeah?"

"What do you have planned for the future?"

She coughed slightly on her tea. Removing the cup from her mouth, she patted her chest before clearing her throat.

"I-I didn't really have any plans. T-The last time I settled down, it didn't go well."

"I know," I said.

"I just need to be prepared for anything that comes our way."

"Do you think people will come after you again?"

"I don't know," she shook her head. "But you can never be too sure."

"Do you worry about me turning you in?" I asked after some silence had passed.

"Never. I never worry about that."

I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that she can still trust me.

"Even if someone tried to get information out of me, I'd never tell them anything."

"If someone so much as touches you in a malicious way, they are losing their hand without a second thought."

Her face turned serious, almost like a scowl. I sat there, blinked a few times before my lips cracked into a smile. Soon, I started to giggle, and then that turned into full on laughter.

"Did I say something funny?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"No," I smiled. "It's just that, you'd go to great lengths to keep me safe."

"Why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged, still smiling. "Never really thought I'd find someone who would want to protect me."

"Y/N," she set her tea cup down and grabbed my hands. "If there was ever a reason I needed to raise my sword and take a life, you're that reason. My mission may be over. My path of revenge has finally stopped and there was so much blood on my hands. But, I put that behind me. It's over and done with. I don't even want to raise my blade to another person's neck. Unless I have to. I have a new mission now. A new path. A path of a protector. Protecting you."

A soft smile appeared on my lips as tears started to form in my eyes. She removed her hands from mine and cupped my face softly, wiping the tears away. Leaning towards me, she lightly placed her lips against mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I melted into the kiss. It only lasted a few seconds until she pulled away, pulling me into her embrace.

"I never want to lose you," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "I think I'd lose myself if I lost you."

"I'll never leave you, Mizu. And I know you'll do anything to keep me safe."

"I will do anything."

Pulling away, I reached up and placed my hand against her cheek, entranced by those blue eyes of hers. How they popped out against the firelight that flickered beside her.

"I love you, Mizu."

A very soft and gentle smile appeared on her lips. Tears formed in her eyes as she pressed her forehead against mine.

"I love you, too, Y/N."

[givemeonereason]

What Have You Done to Me Part 1

Part 2 (+18)

Photo credit to @3_kaguyab

Rating: 16+ language, suggestive content

A/n: Kento is DADDY. That suit and tie, yummy, yummy, cum all over my tummy. But I honestly can’t get over his JJ High look. I would have fallen for him HARDDDD. This man listens to hard rock because it’s cool, and drinks tea in the evenings.

╒══════════════════════╕

Kento Nanami has a permanent frown of displeasure on his face.

You can see it in his downward curved lips in the reflection in the car window. His elbow was resting on the window sill and his head lay against the palm of his hand.

Yu Haibara was laughing loudly at a lude joke Geto said, elbowing Nanami in the side, which made Kento narrow his eyes and mumble under his breath, fogging up the glass.

“What’s wrong Nanami? Can’t take a joke?” Yu elbowed him again.

Kento barely turned his cheek towards Yu, only as much is eye roll would let him. “You need to learn some better jokes.”

Gojo is chortling in shot gun, slapping his hand against his thigh.

“It’s not that funny, Satoru.” Geto spat at him making Gojo wheeze more with laughter.

Yu was laughing now as well.

The vapid display only making Nanami rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, sulking back against the window.

And I’m stuck here with these idiots…

Men.

Or more like little boys.

“You guys really need to stop being so mean to Kento.” You didn’t even look up from the mobile game you were playing from the third row of the SUV.

Yu turned back towards you giving you that knowing look. “The joke wasn’t about him, but you always have to swoop in to defend him? You must really….”

You cut Yu off, “sure, he’s an easy target, but you guys take it too far.”

Satoru’s hands are behind his head when he looks towards the back, not able to see his eyes behind the tint of his glasses. “Ughhh! You don’t have to be so loud about it! Get a room and fuck him why don’t you.”

Suguru is the one to laugh now.

Yu is elbowing Kento again, which makes him elbow him back roughly.

You were unbothered by the violence, as this was a regular currency when you had to travel with these goons. You set your phone down into you lap to looking up toward the center console of the car. “And what if I do?” Challenging the great sorcerer of modern jujitsu.

All three; Geto, Gojo and Haibara are dying with laughter at your retort.

Yu is gasping for air and poking Kento in the shoulder. “She said she would fuck,” gasping and laughing, “she said she would fuck you.” He choked on his own saliva accumulating in the back of his throat. “You of all people.”

The boys kept laughing, Suguru and Satoru egging Nanami on.

Kento sunk into his seat, practically wanting to melt through the window and disintegrate into the afternoon air. He knows damn well they aren’t going to let him live this down. Not for a long while at the very minimum.

Why couldn’t she just let it go…

“God, why are you guys so fucking annoying?!” You almost shout over their giddy display. “What bastards you three are.”

You eyes move to Kento still slunk in his place. “I’m sorry Ken. I just hate that they tease you so much. It’s completely unwarranted.” You look over the others in the car with angered eyes. “They just want to be jackasses because they can be. And we know that they’re too full of themselves to actually pull any ladies for themselves.”

“Now just wait a moment.” Suguru chimed, the tone is his voice as velvety as ever.

“Ha-Yeah…” Sataru practically turned fully around over the center console.

“You three,” you poked Yu in the shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. You narrowed you eyes to thin slits towards Satoru, “couldn’t bag a girl today if you tried.”

Yu crossed his arms over his chest. “I could pick a girl up anywhere, anytime.”

You raised an eyebrow, but you attention found its way back down to your phone. “Okay, sure, let’s see each one of you pick someone up today. There has to be literal proof.”

Satoru pointed toward Kento, “So you ask us to find someone and not him?”

You cut Gojo off, “he is excluded from this experiment, considering that I know for a fact that he could pick up a girl if he really wanted to.”

“Seeing Nanami actually pick up a girl is what I would really like to see.” Suguru smiled, looking back through the rear view mirror.

“I thought y/n was going to fuck him.” Yu said through another laugh, which caused another uproar of laughter from the other two animals in the front.

If the roll of your eyes exhibited in your skull had the power to shift gravity, the car itself might have hopefully thrown each of them out a broken window.

Absolute. assholes.

I hate having to go on mission with these guys. Why couldn’t I go with any of the girls instead? The thought piercing your frontal lobe. It mostly had to do with the lack therein of sorcerers in general, and even less femal sorcerers. As is the way of the world, right?

We’ll just see what they do….

Unfortunately sometimes you end up chewing on your own word cud.

All three of those fuckbois did in fact pick up ladies the evening you reached the costal town.

You would have thought pigs flew with how much they made such a big deal about.

You were wrong, and they proved you as such.

Cocky, arrogant, little boys way to excited to get their dicks wet.

Good for them.

At least you will have some semblance of peace and quiet from those numbskulls.

But, no.

Again, unfortunately for you, there was only three hotel rooms, two rooms for both sets of guys, and your own.

This meant that Yu kicked Kento out of his room, demanding he make like a leaf and shake y/n’s bed with pleasure instead.

But you weren’t even in your room when his knuckles rapped at the door.

Your cellphone buzzed against the corner table of ramen shop you’ve been sitting in for over two hours now.

“Where are you?” Nanami said into the phone, his tone a little worried. “Yu kicked me out. He brought a girl back to the room.” He looked to the door of the room he was supposed to share with Yu. “They are all taking this bet you had with them a little too seriously.”

“Why do you think I went for ramen. I refuse to listen to audible porn. I’ll send you my location. You can join me if you’d like.”

When he pressed the red end call button of his phone screen, he quickened his pace towards and down the hotel’s flight of stairs. Loitering in the hallway would only result in Nanami forcible having to volunteer holding a recording cellphone for Gojo to make a homemade tape.

No. Way.

And honestly, no one can complain about late night ramen, especially Kento. It’s simple, warm; meat and veggies and lots of umami. It could possibly be his second favorite meal, behind a good sandwich of course.

“You wouldn’t mind me staying with you tonight?” He slurped his noodles, smiling at the taste in his mouth. “I will sleep on the couch.”

You were writing down notes in a small notepad you carry round with you during missions. “I don’t have a problem with that. But you know that will give them another reason for them to tease you.”

The realization painted across Kento’s face.

“I’m sorry Ken. I probably made it worse earlier, but you don’t deserve the way they treat you.” You closed your notepad, wrapping the leather cord around the binding. “They say shit because you’re actually smart, talented AND handsome. They can’t really compete with you.”

He was looking at you, blinking. The bean sprout grasped by his chopsticks hovering close to his mouth.

“What?” You saw the way his eyes dilated when they met yours, his cheeks flush with color and not just from the hot broth. It made you giggle, your own cheeks slightly radiating.

“I think you can get any woman you so please.” You took a long drag from the glass of water in front of you. It gave you a reason to break the burning eye contact.

He continued to eat silently before you spoke up. “It’s getting very late.” You look at the time flashing on your phone screen. “Maybe we should get back if we want to get any sleep before tomorrow’s excursion. I have to assume they are done?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a hopeful statement.

Kento nodded in agreement He finished his bowl quickly and paid for you both, even though you persisted to try and pay at least for your own.

The walk back to the hotel was filled with more silence aside from the patter of both sets of shoes against the pavement. His hands in his pockets and your fingers gripping at the sleeves of your uniform jacket.

Why do I have such a pull to hold his hand? Just a small touch would satiate the pounding in your chest.

You grip tighted, your knuckles white, choosing to stare down at your feet the rest of the way back to the hotel.

With the night being half over, you doubt you will get any sleep tonight.

When you laid in bed, you faced the opposite direction of the couch where he rested. You could hear his shallow breathe against the pillow you gave him.

Your body ready for sleep, but your mind ablaze with overthinking.

After all the things you said, do you actually have feelings for him?

Sure, he’s very sweet and you’ve always gotten along.

It probably has to do with your similar work ethic. You both take your studies very seriously.

He’s always been a talented combatant, but his general studies knowledge is beyond compare too.

And gosh, he’s so good with numbers. They make your head spin. How many times did you have to ask him for help with your calculus homework? But he explains it so easily in a way that you understand.

You slowly turn as to not make the mattress creak, looking at his silhouette in the dark room.

Do I like him?

“What if I do fuck him”

What if I do.

Him on top of me, now.

Your face burned, heartbeat overpowering and the ringing in your ears. You turn quickly, despite the rickety screech of the mattress to burry your face into your pillow.

Shut up!

Fuck.

Kento.

Fuck.

Nanami.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

╘══════════════════════╛

© 2023 givemeonereason

Don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

Reblogs and likes appreciated :)

[authorautism]

Always on my Mind

Summary: Bakugou x GN!Reader soulmate au where soulmates are able to share thoughts but are censored/restrained prior to their meeting. Reader has always spoken to their soulmate and with their shared goal of getting into UA they hope to meet and truly fall in love.

Word count: 2.7K

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Hints of injuries

"Mommy! Daddy! Look look look what I can do!"

a young child yelled eagerly running towards their parents in the kitchen only 4 years old today their quirk had finally manifested. In the palm of their left hand lay a single glass marble clear with a stripe of red raising their free hand they focus and slowly the marble lifts out of their hand. "Oh wow baby you have Gran's quirk we're so proud." Their mom says bending down to observe as the marble falls back into their palm.

"Yeah seems it skipped a generation that's so great honey," their dad adds setting down the support gear he was tinkering with. "Are you gonna be a hero like Gran and your mom?" He asks.

"Nope, I wanna be like you Daddy. I wanna make cool laser to help Mommy like you do." They proclaim happily. Mom turns a playful glare to dad who is quick to defend himself, "I don't make that many laser I promise." They all laugh as slowly time skips forward.

It had been only a year since then and everyday you made time to practice your quirk as much as your small body could handle learning from Gran how to use you telekinesis and the limits of it, unlike your Gran you could barely lift heavy things at all so that meant flying and levitating was off the table. But it was during one such time as you were making the tv remote fly that you heard thoughts in a voice that wasn't your own.

'this is so lame i didn't do anything wrong'

Eyes widening I run to find my Daddy and Gran in the living room Gran is watching her soaps half awake while Daddy is reading a magazine.

"I've gone crazy from using my quirk!!!" I cry tears welling in my eyes, "Hey woah sweetie what do you mean?" Daddy asks setting his magazine down on the coffee table and Gran jolts into focus turning down her shows volume.

'WHO THE HELL IS YELLING?'

"I hear a voice I'm crazy!" "Oh dear don't worry that's just your soulmate." Daddy explains patting my head a smile on his face from enjoying my torment. "Ha you two forget to tell them." Gran chortles turning up her soap now that she knows there's no danger present.

"Me and Mommy have been too busy to explain, but the voice you're hearing in your head is your soulmates. Or rather their thoughts." Daddy explains as he picks me up to sit in his lap, "So don't worry my dear because your soulmate is sorta like a best friend but more."

"Are you and Mommy soulmates?" I ask beginning to understand what Daddy was explaining. "Yes, in fact I just told her what happened and she's laughing" Daddy says having closed his eyes briefly as if willing the thought to Mommy. "Tell her its not nice to laugh at her own child!" "Ha ok I will sweetheart, why don't you go talk to your new soulmate?" Daddy says setting me down on my feet the whole time I was listening to the whispers of my soulmates thoughts to quiet to hear but present still.

"Ok." With that I return to my room and sit down at my desk where i had been practicing my quirk.

'Um, Hi my Daddy said you're my soulmate my names ---'

'huh? whatever you said i couldn't hear. whatever my mom said the same this is annoying.'

'I don't think this is annoying actually I'm excited! Its like having an imaginary friend that's all my own but you're real and just far away y'know!'

'i guess but i don't even know your name or nothing. plus what if you're some weirdo huh?'

'Well I could say the very same for you! Plus it's already too late I claim you as my friend and you cant change that so haha ha!'

'ha well fine then don't be annoying i'm gonna be an awesome hero some day so you can't get in my way'

'Well then I'll make all your gear like my Daddy does for my mom so you have to hang out with me!'

'fine, but only because i want friends that aren't weak losers like deku.'

With that promise me and my soulmate Soul as I had nicknamed him talked all the time, I learned about Deku or rather Izuku his childhood friend that was quirkless and scolded him for being such a meanie to Zuzu. Often forcing him to convey my words to Zuzu so that I could be friends with him too. He sometimes did the same especially when it came to the rowdy boys in my class, even though I can handle them myself! But slowly the years passed, both of us training our quirks and sharing small moments of our thoughts. We both learned how to block out one another when need be such as on tests where we wanted to focus.

"Try and keep up Deku." Katsuki shouts leading the shorter male towards the playground. Katsuki using the play structure to dull the sounds of his small explosions as he practices his quirk. Truthfully the only reason he brought the boy was at his soulmates request.

'You really gotta stop pretending you bring Zuzu along just for me Soul, we both know you like how he praises you for your quirk control.'

'whatever.'

"Ah sorry Kacchan, I was distracted." Izuku said sprinting to catch up quickly. "Oh I almost forgot to say hi to your soulmate."

"Whatever they say hi back, ugh Zuzu. Such a stupid nickname." Katsuki groans lighting his palms with tiny explosions. "Hurry up I need to practice before it gets dark and our mom's come looking for us."

"Right, sorry Kacchan, oh Gear you said you were practicing too today?" Izuku asks. He often made conversation through Katsuki rather to said boy which was often considered strange to others. As it's very uncommon for the bond to be used this way before soulmates meet.

'Yeah, I took apart Mom's straightener and Dad had to fix it haha.'

"Of course they did Deku neither of us are slackers after all, why are you asking such dumb questions?"

"Sorry I just, I have another question for you Gear." Izuku stops walking causing Katsuki to pauses too annoyed with the stopping.

Tears gather in the shorter males eyes, "D-do you think, that even though I'm quirkless I can be a hero?" He asks the tears now slowly falling as Katsuki's eyes widen.

'Soul don't say that you know you both have the same dream. So say exactly what I'm saying or gonna be super duper mad at you!'

"Deku- I mean Zuzu what they want to say to you is that the believe in you. Maybe not all quirkless people can become heros, I mean they have a quirk and they're not gonna be a hero but even still they think you can be a hero. I mean not as good as a one as me but whatever." Izuku smiles hugging Kacchan who begrudgingly lets it happen only because he knows its what his soulmate would want. And maybe he kinda sorta does wanna make them happy deep down even if he has to deal with crybaby Deku.

'Finally free!' I laugh along to my thoughts leaving the school for a final time. 'It all really flew by huh?'

'yeah next is ua for us' Soul every cocky replies remarking that he sees Deku leaving at the same time. 'Oh, I wanna say bye to Zuzu come one Soul.' He huffs but as always obliges me fake begrudgingly.

"Oh hey Kacchan. Did your soulmate wanna talk to me?" Izuku asks ever clever it's why I had forced Soul to let me be friend him, and like usual the name he calls Soul is blocked out.

"Of course they do, dunno why they always wanna talk to a useless nerd like you." Soul says 'hey be nice to Zuz!' I scold him making him grumble.

"Whatever, they just wanted to say bye and, ugh really? FINE, and Goodluck." Katsuki grumbles the last bit with an angry expression. "Ah I forgot they're also applying to U.a. with us-" "Not with US with me damn nerd." Katsuki cuts off Izuku with a glare. "But whatever you-- what fine I won't say the TRUTH. Anyways we gotta go bye nerd." With that Katsuki leaves Izuku waving over his shoulder.

'gonna take the shortcut, need to start my summer training quickly.'

'Yeah yeah, always busy Soul but be careful remember what your mom said about villains in the area.'

'i'd blow up and damn villain before it even touched me just wait!'

So Katsuki walked home taking the shifty alleyway just as he said unaware of the slime villain that hide from his sight only to strike now.

'FUCK'

'Soul? What's happening?!' Worry brewed in your chest sure it wasn't unusual for Soul to swear but, but not like this.

'GET THIS SHIT OFF ME! I-I CAN'T BREATHE!' With that I'm cut off from Soul. Blood thunders in my veins I can't hear Gran's soaps or Dad's tinkering I can't hear anything but my own thundering heart, I'm frozen in place fear coiling around me.

'I CAN'T LOSE HIM'

Even as my thoughts turn frantic there's nothing I can do helplessly waiting for anything. After way too long for comfort I get something from Soul 'I CAN'T BELIEVE--' its anger not at me but yet still it fills me with relief 'I was so worried!' But just as quickly I'm cut off though this time its different intentional this continues for days, slowly into months only getting glimpses of his thoughts when his barrier slips slightly. I always offer kind words of what I hope is comfort whenever I can.

Till finally it's the day of the entrance exams or rather the recommendation entrance exams, my Dad having given me one as a well know support item making and an alumni of U.A. I felt out of place around these would be heroes and rich kids but soon it's my turn to shine. I had brought in several small items to showcase my quirk and my own skills. A hair dryer and invention I was working on and the heaviest thing I could find that I could lift with my quirk.

"Ah, you have telekinesis like your grandmother on your mother's side, yet you're following in your dad's footsteps?" The Principle asks with a grin. "Correct sir, thought its the same as my Grans" I say slowly lifting the heaviest item and trying to not let the strain show on my face, "I am able to apply it to support items better." Now I raise the hair dryer into the air focusing on each individual part as slowly its separated into all of its small components hanging in mid air.

"Impressive don't you think Aizawa?" The Principle asks the man in a bright yellow sleeping bag. "So your quirk is more suited towards detail work?" Aizawa asks intrigue in his tired gaze.

'I've got them hook line and sinker now.' Despite the silence I try and involve Soul.

"Yes I can take a part any item so long as I can lift it with my telekinesis and just as quickly--" I snap my fingers and the hair dryer reassembles instantly, "I can reassemble it too." I finish a grin on my face. "As expected from your mother and father, you can expect your letter in the mail soon good job." With that the Principle dismisses me others seem shocked and intrigued as I can't help but grin taking my props with me.

'I did it Soul so you can't fail either!'

'you know i won't idiot.' Eyes widening at his response and I smile wide.

'Good to finally hear from you, I missed you y'know...'

'even though you're annoying i guess i missed you too. i just had a lot of shit to deal with but im back now for good so don't worry yeah.'

'Ok I trust you Soul so know you can trust me too with anything on your mind!'

'yeah yeah i know just don't mention it ok i'll tell you later.'

Walking home with glee I tell my Mom, Dad and Gran the news that I'm probably in already. Being congratulated and warned to not jinx it I slowly unwind getting ready for bed.

Laying look at the ceiling anxiously today was the day well more the morning of our first day. So anxious was practically an understatement I would maybe meet Soul today and yet here I lay frozen in bed.

'are you really that nervous?'

'Yes, I know we've both been working towards this for so so long but, I just...'

'get up. get ready and we won't plan it if we meet by chance today then we meet if we don't that's fine. so stop stressing gearhead our you'll be late.'

Smiling and feeling more confident I get ready for the day. I get well wishes from my family and a knowing look from my mom who leaves with me. We now take the same train to get to work and school.

"Are you excited?" She asks as we walk to the train station.

"Sorta school I know but this is new Soul said we can let our meeting be organic and we don't have to meet today." I explain.

"That's good me and your dad did that actually he was so nervous that it made my hands shake." My mom laughs smiling and no doubt receiving a scolding from my dad in her mind. "But it was good I scared him when I saw him."

"How did you know it was him?"

"Well dear I just knew it was something I knew like breathing and then I clung to him for a whole day straight." My mom finishes with a laugh a smile on her face as we approach the train station.

"Wow a whole day? You really are clingy Mom." I laugh.

"So you'll do fine kid alright."

With that me and my mom parted ways into different train cars so I could face my first day. The ride was uneventful making it to class about fifteen minutes early. I change into my school shoes and look for my class, passing by a rather loud classroom labeled 1-A, none the wiser of what lay inside. Assemblies and meeting classmates and teachers await me this Mei girl seems to be at my level as we chat with one another. Days continue on like that almost in a trance me and Soul still speak to one another in fleeting exchanges but I can tell there's something missing.

'i have a fieldtrip today.'

'Ooh, are you excited Soul? I haven't gone to one with UA yet so you'll have to tell me how it goes.'

'sure, sure. its just a boring search and rescue thing.'

'Still it sounds so exciting I just have normal classes then lab time today.'

'how's the invention coming along?'

'Good! I'm excited to begin testing today actually.'

'hopefully you don't blow it up again idiot.'

'HEY, that wasn't even my fault I shouldn't have let Mei tinker with my baby after all!'

'pfft whatever, i gotta head to class so we can go on this fieldtrip now. maybe i'll see you today...'

'Ha, maybe yeah.'

With that I start another day. Until we're being evacuated from campus due to a nearby villain attack at the place Soul just said he was going. Fear and panic fill my chest was something going to happen to him? Was he going to get hurt or even die before I even got the chance to meet him? Tears well in my eyes but I feel paralyzed stand in the classroom as people start getting their things and clearing out.

"Hey, are you with me now?" Mei asks shaking my shoulder.

"M-my soulmate's in that class..."

"Hey, its going to be ok Almight's on his way over and there was already two proheros there." She tries to reassure me as we both grab my things and leave the school. Mei takes me to a cafe hoping to calm me down a little.

"Pass me your phone I'm gonna text your parents ok?" Wordlessly I hand it over.

'hey, soulmate or whatever don't freak out ok... no matter what I'm going to fight to meet you ok? so just you fucking wait for me!'

[lu-undy]

If your asks are still open, what would you think about Splniper comforting Spy after he wakes up from a nightmare by cuddling him and making him hot cocoa?

Here it is, I hope this checks out!

It is reasonable to imagine Spy having trouble sleeping. After all that he has done, all the lives he ended - directly or indirectly -, all the secrets and hearts that he stole, after all the deceptions and lies, it is fair to say that the man had a lot to feel remorse and regret for.

So the nightmares were frequent, the sleep babbling - one could hardly call it talking given the lack of more than a noise or syllable per few words - was incessant sometimes and of course, the clenching of his jaw and his limbs was exhausting.

On the other hand, Mundy could sleep anywhere in any, possibly uncomfortable position imaginable. But sharing his nights with Spy had shown him a side of the man that very few knew about him.

At first, the nights were peaceful. But as Spy grew comfortable with his lover, Mundy gradually got exposed to more and more of these episodes of nightly restlessness.

The first time it was only a babble. It woke the Aussie up and he had smiled about it, thinking this was in fact priceless ammunition for his little teasing games with the spy. But the smile soon disappeared when he saw the frown on Spy's sleeping face and the sweat dripping from his brow.

Sniper did not know how to react, much less how to ask Spy for guidance on this. But one day, before he managed to gather the courage, Spy himself opened up about this.

"I would understand if you preferred sleeping on your own."

The sentence had been the opener to a conversation that caught Sniper so off guard, he nearly spat his coffee out.

“What? No, why're you sayin' that?"

"I know my sleep is at the other end of peaceful and I can only imagine how painful it is to share a bed with me. I also know that after a nightmare that forced me to wake up last night, you pretended to be sleeping but you saw and heard everything. No need to make this more awkward than it needs to be." Spy puffed out some smoke, sat on his end of the sofa. He was staring at the cigarette between his fingers, which Sniper now knew was a habit he had to not look whoever he was addressing in the eye.

"Spook, I-"

"No need." Spy cut him and raised a flat hand. "No need to elaborate. You can go back to your van and meet with me for breakfast here or whenever you feel like it."

“No, you idiot." That's when Spy's eyes flashed to his lover who was sat at the other end of the couch. "I don't care that you wake me up at night. But now that we're talkin' about it, I've always wanted to ask you a few things about it."

Spy waved his hand in an inviting motion, for Sniper to ask away. "You didn't used to have these… uh…”

"Episodes." Spy filled in.

"Yeah, those episodes, you didn't use to have them when we first started seein' each other. So I'm thinking that it's somethin' I do or say that makes this happen. And whatever it is, it’s really gettin’ on your nerves.”

Spy shook his head, sighing.

“Spook, please. Just tell me what it is and I’ll stop doin’ it.”

Spy chortled.

“Don’t give yourself any credit, Bushman.”

“What’s that mean?” Sniper asked.

“It means that you are not the cause of any of this. It started way before I knew you.”

“How come it didn’t happen at the beginnin’ then?”

“That is because I hardly slept at the beginning, precisely to avoid this issue. But after weeks of being sleep deprived, I couldn’t fight it anymore and I now sleep at night.” Spy took a drag of his cigarette. He was speaking coldly, which he usually did, but Sniper could tell that this was a bit colder than usual which meant that Spy was trying to hide his emotions.

The Aussie let the silence hang for a second before he found the right way to respond.

“I just wanna know how to help you.” He answered and put his now empty coffee mug on the coffee table in front of him. “I don’t want to go away from you just because you have trouble sleepin’, that’s stupid.”

Spy did not say anything.

“So d’you know what I can do to help you when you have these nightmares and things like that?” Sniper asked.

“Non.” Spy answered. “As far as I know, nothing helps.”

“Have you tried tablets to help you sleep? Maybe that can work?”

“I am not sick.” Spy replied. “This is not an illness. It is the result of my life choices.” He stood up and left the sofa. Sniper understood that it was not personal, it was not against him. It was against himself. Spy hated having a problem that a gun or a knife could not fix.

Mundy made a decision as his eyes followed Lucien going to his bathroom and locking the door, and the decision was the following: he would try different things and see what would work best, if anything did.

He started going to Medic for medical advice.

“So when did this start?”

“Can’t remember a night where I could sleep right to be honest.” Mundy lied. Obviously he slept like a log but he would never compromise his lover’s reputation and tell anyone that Spy had a problem.

“Interesting. And why come to me now? If this is something you have dealt with all your life, what pushed you to seek help now?” Medic asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“If you can patch gunshot wounds and broken bones within seconds with that medigun of yours then I reckon you can probably help with this too, eh?”

Medic smirked.

“But,” Sniper added. “I don’t wanna take tablets or stuff like that. I want you to tell me how I can fix it and go back to sleeping like I was when I was a kid.”

“Even more interesting.” Medic nodded to himself. “I can give you a few methods, but I can guarantee they won’t be as efficient as taking some prescription medicine.”

“That’s fine.”

“The other thing you should know is that you will need someone to do those things to you when those fits happen. I trust this is not an issue?”

Sniper slightly blushed. Of course Medic knew that he was spending his nights in Spy’s room, but this was the first time he heard it from him. He nodded.

“Yeah. Well, thanks, Doc’.” Sniper stood up and left.

The second person Sniper went to was Engie.

“So, where’s Spy? Usually you two come together on Friday nights?” The Texan asked.

It was true. To escape the ruckus of the Friday evening team celebrations, Sniper and Spy usually hid away in Engie’s garage. The beer tasted better when consumed in a quieter environment.

“D’you know what to do when someone has night terrors?” Sniper asked bluntly.

“You have night terrors?”

“Yeah.” Sniper lied. “I can’t sleep properly, I talk in my sleep. Sometimes I wake up in a sweat, and my whole body is tense.”

“Well, you’d better ask sawbones for these things. Can’t fix it with a contraption, I’m afraid.”

“So you don’t know?” Sniper asked and deep down, he was hiding a smile. He had learnt from Spy that if you wanted anything from Engie, it had to challenge his intellect; or if that failed, question it.

“From what I know, it really depends on what provokes the night terrors. I just know that for some people, it’s trauma; no easy fix for that.”

“What’s the hard fix then?” Sniper asked.

“Again, I don’t know much but here’s what I know…”

— Later —

Spy was reading in bed, his night lamp was on. It was past midnight and sleep started to fall on him gently but he could hear Sniper still in the shower. Ah, nevermind, the water just stopped.

The Frenchman distantly heard the bathroom door open. He switched his light off and put his book away before sliding down in his bed to lie down. He shut his eyes and waited to hear Sniper leave his suite.

Instead, the mattress lowered down. Spy rolled to see what was happening.

“What are you doing here?” He asked the tall, lanky man who was slipping in bed next to him.

“What does it look like? Fryin’ eggs?”

“I thought we agreed that you would sleep in your van?”

“Nah, you agreed on that on your own, I didn’t.” Mundy scooted closer to his lover and held him close.

“Mundy, you don’t have to-”

“Good night, luv’.” Mundy cut him and Lucien felt a kiss on his temple.

The Frenchman sighed and held Mundy’s hand in his.

That sense of peace vanished a few hours in the night, and Lucien started to babble and spasm. Mundy woke up and waited to see if his lover was calming down.

“Non…”

Mundy waited and listened.

“Non… Non!”

Lucien was definitely not calming down. The Aussie then applied his teammate’s advice. He rolled Lucien to make him lie on his back and lay on top of him, crushing him with his own weight.

“Nnh…”

The babbling subsided almost instantly, the spasming took longer but Mundy was patient. He grabbed some tissue from the bedside table and wiped Lucien’s sweaty brow.

“It’s alright… You ain’t alone anymore… I’m here with you…”

The spasms became less frequent, only the breathing was irregular now.

“Sssh… it’s alright.”

Mundy grabbed the bottle of water and hand towel he had brought on his bedside table and wet it before putting it on Lucien’s forehead. He immediately lay on him again afterwards.

Lucien’s breathing calmed down, and he eventually opened his eyes. The night light was on and he realised his brow was nice and cool.

“Mundy…?”

“You’re alright.”

“What is…? Wait…” Lucien gently pushed Mundy away and the Aussie obliged. “What is this doing on my forehead? And why were you sleeping on me?”

“You won’t believe me, but it worked.” The Aussie sat on his side of the bed, his back towards Lucien.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Sit up, luv’.” When Mundy turned to face Lucien again, the Aussie had a glass of water in his hand. “Here, drink this.”

Lucien obeyed without a second thought.

“I tried some stuff to help you calm down. It worked, with a bit of time.”

Lucien stopped drinking sharp.

“What did you do? Just crush me with your body?”

“Yeah, and cool you down.” Mundy answered.

Lucien sat up straight and put the now empty glass away.

“How did you know what to do?”

“I asked Medic and Engie.”

“You did what?!”

“Relax, I told them that it was for me.” Mundy answered. “And in any case, we trust Medic with our lives, which is mad enough. Can’t hurt to ask the crazy nurse.”

Lucien sighed.

“I suppose you are right. And it worked.”

“How d’you feel?”

“Different.”

“How?”

“Usually when I wake up after an episode, I am out of breath and exhausted. But now, I feel much better, barely any sweat, I am not breathing as if I just beat a sprinting world record… I… Thank you.” He looked Mundy in the eye.

“Yeah, no worries. It wasn’t hard.” Mundy answered and Lucien yawned. “Ready to sleep again?”

“Oui, I think so.”

“Right.” Mundy switched the night light off and slid down under the sheets. Lucien did the same.

“Mundy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome.”

The darkness made it easier for both of them to communicate, verbally and otherwise. Lucien rolled on his side and grabbed Mundy’s arm to pull him in. The Aussie found himself spooning his lover. He could not see it but Lucien rolled his eyes up in bliss before closing them. He could not get enough of the warmth, the embrace was comforting as much as it was calming for his nerves.

“Mundy?” He whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I…” Lucien cleared his throat. “May I be hugged please?”

“Course.”

With the weeks passing by, Lucien’s episodes became overall less violent. It was only on occasions that he would need to fully wake up. Most of the time, Mundy would lie on top of him and Lucien would barely wake up. The sleep talking and spasming became less frequent too. Not only that, but Lucien would ask for hugs more often in bed. And Mundy came to realise that the Frenchman, even with all his love conquests, was starved of any meaningful touch. No one held him for more than a few minutes after intercourse, and no one made him feel as safe as in Mundy’s arms.

“I owe you my peace of mind.”

“Can you do introductions with bits of context?” Mundy asked at the breakfast table.

“I could.” Lucien answered. “But I believe what I said is clear enough.”

“Makes no bloody sense to me but alright.” Mundy gave a chuckle.

“Yesterday night was the first night in more than forty years that I slept through without any stress.” Lucien said.

“I’m happy for you.” Mundy bent on his side and left a kiss on his lover’s temple before resuming the buttering of his toast.

“If there is anything I can do to repay this, please let me know, whatever it is.” Lucien answered. “Even if you think it is impossible to do it, I will make it happen.”

“Well,” The Aussie put his butter knife down. “There’s one thing I’ve really wanted but I’m not sure you or anyone can do it.”

“Please.” Lucien asked him to say whatever it was.

“Could you pass me that apricot jam over there?” Mundy smirked and Lucien rolled his eyes, nevertheless he passed him the jar.

“Mundy…”

“What? I really want that jam, y’know how much I like that on my toast, eh?”

They both chuckled and Mundy got caught off guard. Lucien himself initiated a kiss.

[titanicfreija]

Tributary

"I saw your Guardian in the Iron Banner."

Caiatl's voice surprised the Ghost and Guardian, and Freija leapt to her feet with a start. "How do you know?" asked Sunny, hovering into Caiatl's line of sight.

She seemed amused at their reaction, rocking to her heels and lowering her tusks. "I asked the name of particular Tributaries that I found impressive, and hers was one. That armor set is quite small."

Freija looked down at herself and smiled sheepishly. "The legs help me run faster."

~

"And they send bolts of electricity amongst your foes when you strike them," Caiatl agreed, speech unusually fast for herself. Freija smiled when she recognized the enthusiasm. "I do enjoy Valus Forge's sports. We have simulated them, but the live fire cannot be matched."

Freija giggled and Caiatl chortled. "You are fearless," she told Freija.

"I..." Sunny interrupted when she dropped a foot and a half. "Yeah," she sighed.

Caiatl humphed pleasantly. "The deadliest among you were quite impressive, but I find this game favors those who play the objective. The deadliest among you seemed only interested in being the deadliest."

Freija moaned and rolled her head in exasperation. "Yeah. They're still doing something, gives people like me something to pick up. But they'll leave the crests when I'm not there to pick them up, or worse, they'll make so many that even if they do pick them up, there's some left behind. That's partially my fault for dying, though."

Caiatl humphed again and crossed her arms. "I appreciate your capacity for clear thought in combat. It is amusing to see you give in to your instincts and stay to fight long after you should have retreated," she said.

Freija giggled nervously and ran a hand over her hair. "Yeah, my disengage is shit. I'm working on it. As long as my engage isn't too... Uh. Engaged, I do okay." She smiled wanly.

Sunny, who had subconsciously drifted to Freija's side, wheeled her petals. "It's good to see you, Empress," she sang. "I'm glad you like the Banner. It was the first place Freija got to fight her fellow Guardians, so it's kept a warm place in our hearts, and we come back when Saladin does. We're glad you let him keep it."

"It was an excellent opportunity to witness Guardian battle techniques," Caiatl said with a jovial shift in her stance. "It has also been... Fun. I have certainly enjoyed targeting the Guardians with drop pods. Valus Forge has promoted this, in fact. He says that many could do with lessons of the kind."

Freija giggled again. "I was only in the way once," she objected playfully. "This time. Today."

Caiatl rumbled a laugh and gave the Guardian a nod, then turned back to Sunny. "I would appreciate your company at your convenience."

She almost hid the exhaustion but Sunny and Freija caught it anyway.

"My pleasure! Freija has a date coming up, I'll ping you?"

(I have no idea where I'm gonna take that)

[mlmxreader]

One Thing To Always Love | Alex Keller x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: "Stop calling me your boyfriend - we got married a month ago!" alex keller x m!reader

summary: you adore Alex, love him something terribly, but when he makes you laugh, you’re reminded why. 

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Alex was on the phone, which was nothing unusual as he often checked in with Farah and her battalion when he wasn’t around, wanting to know how things were going and how they were doing in general, often talking to her for hours; you didn’t mind it so much, relaxing on the bed as you buried your face in an old copy of ‘Animal Farm’, the sound of ‘Hyperdialect’ by Hacktivist playing softly from the speaker on the windowsill. You couldn’t help but to hum along to the song as you turned the page; glancing up to see Alex pausing to smile at you for a second.

“Yeah, he’s here with me, we live together, remember?” Alex hummed. “Yeah, we’re doing pretty well, actually - he’s my boyfriend, Farah, I can’t just… no. No, we’re not giving you our coffee machine - I don’t care if it’s red and yours is blue, it’s our coffee machine.”

You scoffed, doing your best not to laugh as you turned back to your book; Alex was a creature of habit, and he had been calling you his boyfriend for years so it was only natural that he would slip up a few times. Last month, the two of you had been wed, and he was still getting the hang on calling you his husband instead; yet it always made you smile, made you scoff as you tried to hold back a laugh that bubbled in the back of your throat and made your lip quiver as you tried to hold it down. 

Alex carried on with his phone call, giving you the opportunity to laugh when he wandered out of the room absentmindedly; it was only a short burst of giggling snorts, but even now, after so many years together, he never did fail to make you laugh. To make you giggle and snort, and that was something you had always loved about him; he could always make you laugh. He could always make you scoff and snort and chuckle and chortle. It was the very first thing you had always loved about him. 

You turned back to your book, still humming along, although this time it was to ‘Napalm In The Morning’ by Sodom, and you couldn’t help but to tap your foot along to the beat either as you became lost in the little world confined to the pages; every now and then, Alex would pop his head in, smile at you and watch you for a moment as he spoke to Farah, and then disappear again to another room. He loved to watch you read, loved to see you at peace and to hear your music playing; he loved it best when you sang along, but you never did if he was on the phone. It was the only thing he didn’t like about checking in with his adopted sister. 

But he soon returned when the phone call was over, his mood good and his spirits high as he took off his prosthetic leg and made his way to the bed; he flopped down with his head on your lap, staring up at you as you started to gently card through his hair. He didn’t miss the way you smiled when you realised that he leaned into your touch; he couldn’t help but to smile himself, a soft grumble coming from the back of his throat when you scratched his scalp a little.

“You forgot again,” you mused, leaning over to put your book on the bedside table before you looked down at him oh so terribly fondly. A hint of a bitten back smile on your face.

“What’d I forget?” He asked, furrowing his brows. 

You raised your brows as you kept your eyes on his, watching the cogs turn behind those pretty baby blues and doing your best not to laugh, not to hold your sides and fall onto your back; it took him a while, but eventually Alex shrugged.

“I don’t know what I forgot.”

“You called me your boyfriend,” you told him with a soft laugh. “And you have got to stop calling me your boyfriend - we got married a month ago! Or did I sign a Nikah with someone else?”

“No, you signed it with me,” he smiled back. “You’re not mad, though?”

You shook your head, leaning back. “No, I’m not mad - it’s funny, and it’s cute.”

“It is?” He asked, genuinely curious.

But you nodded your head, and waited for him to straddle your waist before you pulled him back a bit more so that his chest was flush with yours. “Of course it is! It’s like watching a dog running into a glass door, or a puppy barking at its own reflection… although, puppies bite less.”

He tried his best, but Alex couldn’t bite back his laugh; it was warm against your neck, making you grumble softly as you tried to pull him a little closer, trying to steal a bit more of that warmth as you grinned and laughed along with him for a moment. He could always fucking make you laugh, even without trying, even without needing to. 

If there was one thing that your beloved husband had a really good talent and really good skill at doing, it was making you laugh until you were crying and your sides were hurting, hardly able to make noise; just sharp wheezes leaving you as you doubled over. Alex could always make you laugh, and when you needed to be reminded as to why you loved him so much, that was always the best slap in the face that you needed. 

“You need to trim that fucking caterpillar,” you told him teasingly. “I can feel it against my neck and it’s tickling.”

“You like my ‘stache,” he pointed out. “You told me, if I ever shaved it, you’d kill me, then you’d kill my ghost, too.”

You pushed him away enough to look into his eyes, grinning. “I said to trim it, Mister Keller, not shave it.”

“Well, go get the scissors,” Alex challenged. “Trim it for me, Mister Keller, if you want it done that badly.” 

[gorogues]

Fictober 2023

Prompt number #22 Fanfiction Fandom: Flash Rogues Rating: T – Teen and up Warnings: A creepy guy.

Day Twenty-Two: “Who takes care of you?”

The neighbour knocked at the door with some hesitation.  She didn’t know the man who lived there, after all, but he did have a reputation for being strange and rude.  She’d only seen him twice before, and one of those times he’d leered at her.

But she was a social worker, and she thought it good to help the people around her whenever possible.  Maybe the man was just misunderstood.

The door swung open, and Alvin grinned when he saw who it was.  “Yeah?” he greeted her, scratching his rear end for an uncomfortably long time.

“Hi, I’m your neighbour Deborah, and I thought it’d be nice to get to know each other,” she said politely, offering a hand to shake despite the scratching.  Alvin laughed delightedly.

“Sure, come right in.  I’m Doctor Albert Desmond, scientist-at-large.”

Unfortunately, Deborah didn’t know him well enough to realize that he’d given the name of his unlucky twin, as he so often did.  She smiled and stepped inside, though the smile became strained once she saw what a mess the place was.

“Siddown and I’ll get you a beer!” Alvin chortled, heading into the kitchen to grab a few cans.  She grimaced when she saw a large pile of dirty magazines on the coffee table, but decided it wasn’t her place to judge.

She sat down on the couch and noticed some underwear wedged between the cushions, though she couldn't tell whether it was clean or not.  But Alvin then tossed himself onto the seat next to her and offered a can of cheap lager, which at least was still fully sealed.

“So, you said you’re a scientist?  What do you do?” she asked kindly.

“Eh, I’m a jack of all trades, really.  I work for people who’re willing to pay cash, and do my own research on the side.  I’m trying to develop a vaccine for crabs!” he said with great enthusiasm.

The look on his face suggested that he wasn’t trying to save marine life, but the work would probably help people and for that she was glad.  Besides, at least he wasn’t cooking drugs, and he seemed far too slovenly to become any kind of so-called “supervillain”.  She’d met a few of those in her line of work, one of whom had lived in her last building before it was destroyed in a battle with the Justice League.

She might have had some quibbles with supervillains.

“How long have you lived here?” she asked.

“Oh, I dunno.  I think they forgot I’m here, `cause they don’t charge me rent.  Or maybe that’s because I turned the super’s desk into salt a while back!”  He laughed so hard at this that she frowned with concern; he didn’t seem stable, or to have much grasp on reality.  Maybe she and her colleagues really would need to intervene.

“Who takes care of you, Albert?  Do you have anyone in your life to check on you, and make sure you’re okay?”

He seemed puzzled.  “Whaddya mean?  I'm a bachelor, living a wild swinging single-guy life!  Nobody tells me what to do!”

“So, um, I’m going to give you the number of somebody who can help, and he’ll come over to talk to you later this week,” she said evenly as she scribbled a phone number on a piece of paper.  He took it and stared.

“Is this some kind of therapy thing?  Because I don’t do therapy anymore.”

“We just want to make sure you’re all right.”

He sighed, and looked genuinely regretful. 

“So, this is gonna end in one of two ways: I give you lots of gold to make you scram, or I threaten you and/or actually turn you into salt to make you gone.  So I guess that’s really one of three ways, sorry.  Which is it gonna be?”

“Albert, I…”

He pulled the Philosopher’s Stone from his pocket, and suddenly the cheap wooden coffee table became sodium.  Then it was tungsten.  Then it was transformed into pure helium, quickly dissipating into the atmosphere.

“Crap, now I need another table,” he muttered under his breath.  “Anyway, the point is, I can do it and I mean it.  I think you’re hot, so I’m giving you a choice most people don’t get.  What’s it gonna be?”

“…I’ll take the gold, and I’m going to move out right away.  You won’t hear from me again.”

She absolutely meant it.

“That’s my girl!” he grinned, and clapped his hands triumphantly.  “You made the right call, and I’ll give ya all the gold you can carry.  But just between you and me, d’you have any interest in the ol’ slap n’ tickle?”

She tried very intently to keep her face neutral lest he take offence.  “Um, no thank you.”

“Too bad, you’re a total babe.  Well, a deal’s a deal.”

Alvin searched for the remnants of his half-eaten lunch and turned them into solid gold, and he grabbed a few of his least-favourite magazines and subjected them to the same fate.

“They’ll melt down as well as any gold bar,” he shrugged when she gave him a funny look.  But right now she didn’t care about all the weirdness anymore, and hurried to the exit with her heavy gleaming burden.

“You know where I am if you change your mind about the tickles!” he called as she speed-walked to her apartment and slammed the door behind her.

She took a deep breath once she felt (mostly) safe.  She was going to pack a few things, head to a motel, and hire movers to take the rest of her possessions away as soon as possible.  The gold would pay for a new start in life, and it was time to leave the city of Keystone and its madness far behind.