#often than before at minimum)

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

My favorite funny thing on occasion is to imagine sugar baby/daddy dynamics with Tails ships

Something so comical about the fact that Sonic the hedgehog (hedgehog without a home) would be sugar baby to Tails (fox who has so many labs. Like who needs to worry about money when your little buddy pays for stuff heroing doesn't and keeps his bases fully stocked with ingredients for your favorite food

Or like, Tails, who basically ended up being Sonic's sugar daddy, accidentally gaining more sugar babies by virtue of making sure certain characters don't inconvenience people (basically playing damage control)

While I think it's Rouge mainly who would probably suppliment the money for Omega and Shadow (if need be) and play this sort of role for them, it's still funny to imagine Tails insisting on setting them up in hotel rooms because Shadow was just about to sleep outside and saw no problem with that (and because Tails can't very well just let Shadow do that)

A friend of mine also moved that, under this framework, after the idw issues where the Chaotix took a job helping Knuckles get an artifact back, Tails would just silently patch them rent money as an apology for the whole thing.

Rich inventor Tails accidentally gaining bfs out of the main cast as his sugar babies because he's assumed responsibility for their antics and cares about them too much to just let them live life the way they have been. Do you see my vision?

[virtue-boy]

also literally stated in the excerpt:

"A sociologist studying gender in veterinary schools, Dr. Anne Lincoln says that in an attempt to describe this drastic drop in male enrollment, many keep pointing to financial reasons like the debt-to-income ratio or the high cost of schooling. But Lincoln’s research found that “men and women are equally affected by tuition and salaries.”

Why aren't we talking about the real reason male college enrollment is dropping? (Celeste Davis, Oct 6 2024)

"White flight is a term that describes how white people move out of neighborhoods when more people of color move in.

White flight is especially common when minority populations become the majority. That neighborhood then declines in value.

Male flight describes a similar phenomenon when large numbers of females enter a profession, group, hobby or industry—the men leave. That industry is then devalued.

Take veterinary school for example:

In 1969 almost all veterinary students were male at 89%.

By 1987, male enrollment was equal to female at 50%.

By 2009, male enrollment in veterinary schools had plummeted to 22.4%

A sociologist studying gender in veterinary schools, Dr. Anne Lincoln says that in an attempt to describe this drastic drop in male enrollment, many keep pointing to financial reasons like the debt-to-income ratio or the high cost of schooling.

But Lincoln’s research found that “men and women are equally affected by tuition and salaries.”

Her research shows that the reason fewer men are enrolling in veterinary school boils down to one factor: the number of women in the classroom.

For every 1% increase in the proportion of women in the student body, 1.7 fewer men applied.

One more woman applying was a greater deterrent than $1000 in extra tuition! (…)

Since males had dominated these professions for centuries, you would think they would leave slowly, hesitantly or maybe linger at 40%, 35%, 30%, but that’s not what happens.

Once the tipping point reaches majority female- the men flee. And boy do they flee!

It’s a slippery slope. When the number of women hits 60% the men who are there make a swift exit and other men stop joining.

Morty Schapiro, economist and former president of Northwestern University has noticed this trend when studying college enrollment numbers across universities:

“There’s a cliff you fall off once you become 60/40 female/male. It then becomes exponentially more difficult to recruit men.”

Now we’ve reached that 60% point of no return for colleges.

As we’ve seen with teachers, nurses and interior design, once an institution is majority female, the public perception of its value plummets.

Scanning through Reddit and Quora threads, many men seem to be in agreement - college is stupid and unnecessary.

A waste of time and money. You’re much better off going into the trades, a tech boot camp or becoming an entrepreneur. No need for college. (…)

When mostly men went to college? Prestigious. Aspirational. Important.

Now that mostly women go to college? Unnecessary. De-valued. A bad choice. (…)

School is now feminine. College is feminine. And rule #1 if you want to safely navigate this world as a man? Avoid the feminine.

But we don’t seem to want to talk about that."

[dilfdicks]

★ thinking about how moving in with sex addict satoru is simultaneously the best and worst decision you've ever made in your life.

because on one hand you get to spend the quiet parts of life with the man you love. you get to share space with him in a domestic setting, fall asleep with him at night only to wake up to him in the morning. you get good sex as often as you want it, take-out nights and tv marathons that aren't on the table when you don't live together.

but on the other hand, even the simplest of things has satoru bending you over the nearest surface and sinking deep into you. of course when you moved in, he made you cum in every room of the house as a way of christening it—but you didn't expect him to then insist on making you cum on every surface the house has to offer.

you can't buy new furniture without satoru laying you back on top of it and eating you out for an hour minimum.

you can't make dinner without ending up with your face pressed against the countertop as you're split open by his cock.

you have to give up on keeping the bed made, as you never make it more than a few hours before he's throwing you on top of it to fuck you stupid and ruin the fold of the sheets.

you can't shower without his fingers plunging into you under the scalding water.

you can't sit down without satoru insisting his lap is much more comfortable—why not cockwarm him while you're at it?

oh and you think you get a moment of reprieve when he goes away for missions? nope—because after so long of 24/7 access to the best dick you've ever had, you find when he's gone that your fingers just aren't long and learned like his are. your toys don't bite at your neck with each thrust. you can't cuff yourself to the bed. you can't cum without him.

and suddenly you have to come to terms with the fact that you too, are addicted to satoru gojos cock.

[adore-gregor]

my perception of grades totally changed since i started uni

[ssahotchnerr]

how do you think Aaron and reader who are married, react to both being called ‘Agent Hotchner’ and they both answer? That’s so cute, I could just imagine Derek smirking and Rossi having a proud dad moment

the hotchners

AHHH I LOVE THAT cw; bau!reader, established relationship, typical cm case talk, playful banter/fluff 🥰

"The unsub is devolving, they’re getting more reckless," Derek thought aloud, clicking his pen in hand. "He dumped the last victim in a public place, rather than the usual, secluded spot."

"They're losing control." You inputted in agreement, your eyes darting across the conference room table to him.

Aaron leaned down on the table, still standing, but with his palms pressed against the surface. He was next to you, and this stance allowed him to be ever so slightly closer. Your heart warmed by his proximity, as any displays of affection were at a minimum when in the field. You were happy he was just close by. "The next victim will probably be someone they can’t control-"

"Agent Hotchner?" A voice came from behind, hindering the conversation.

"Yes?" Both of you answered swiftly, out of habit, though it was a new habit for you. Your tickled eyes met Aaron's, your nose scrunched up slightly in amusement.

Derek grinned, swiveling back and forth in his chair in observance. Rossi raised his hand to his mouth casually, concealing a chuckle.

The voice in question, one of the local police department's officers, even hesitated himself, as if he didn't know which Hotchner he were to rely the information to.

As soon as you and Aaron got engaged, the discussion of whether or not you'd take his last name was on the table. To avoid confusing situations like these, or to prevent any reputable prejudices. It was rare, but every so often you received grimaces from bystanders, both in the field and in the office back home. Marrying your boss? Either tremendously romantic or something to be frowned upon.

But in the end it was unanimous; you wanted his last name, and as did Aaron. It was even more important to him. A symbol of a bond he couldn’t wait to share with you; an acknowledgment of the life you were about to build together. You and him. The Hotchners.

"Uh- sorry to interrupt. The victim's fiancé is here for their interview. They're waiting in interrogation." He stammered, his gaze switching between the two of you.

"Thank you. We'll send someone in shortly." Aaron replied, politely dismissing the officer. He kept his trained demeanor, but you could hear the laughter underneath his voice.

As his footsteps trailed away, you nudged Aaron, humorously bumping your shoulder into his upper arm.

He kept his gaze on the files laid on the table, his lips spread in a soft smile as he slowly shook his head.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Dave." He didn't even need to look up.

"Hey!" Dave commented, his tone light as he spoke. He held up his hands in surrender, but that didn't diminish from the proud gleam in his eyes; it also happened to be the same one he had adorned on your wedding day. "I didn't say a thing."

"Oh, but it's written all over your face." You quipped also, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"Just when I thought the two of you couldn't be any more married." Derek rolled his eyes, playfully as his lips pulled back into a grin. "What's next? Have you mastered the art of the ‘yes honey’ yet, or is that still a work in progress?"

"Please, that was perfected before we got married." Aaron remarked as he relaxed his posture, straightening up. He flashed a smile in your direction, speaking over Morgan's cackle. "Isn't that right, honey?"

[jayrockin]

🧹🌸 Happy Feaster! 🌸🧹

One of most influential national holidays in Jovia is Feaster, aka "Easter Feast." It is descended from the Christian holiday Easter, though it does not always fall on the same Sunday of the Terran solar calendar. Jovia's Christian minorities (mostly congregants of the Martian Church of Christ or Presbyterians) sometimes celebrate it as a religious holiday, but it has experienced secularization through its association with Spring Cleaning Week.

This week starts on the first Monday of April and is one of two compulsory maintenance weeks in the year for Jovian citizens. It focuses on the cleaning up of green spaces, biosystems, and microgravity farms in your place of residence; either the mega space station Nexus Jovia or one of the settlements on Jupiter’s moons. Jovian citizens are required to fulfill a minimum of 6 hours of maintenance during the first 6 days of the week unless they have a registered exemption, and there is generally a scramble in the week before as signups open and citizens try to get slots in some of the less exhausting or gross jobs. Easter Feast occurs on the final day of the week, and is a welcome break after the toil of the previous 6 days. Many people with family on the Jovian system will travel to see them for Feaster, and Nexus Jovia is at its most crowded during this Spring holiday season.

Perhaps the most important part of Spring Cleaning Week is the rotating out of the microgravity farms. Old crops are harvested on mass and replanted, older livestock are culled and butchered, and the algae and yeast tanks are drained, sanitized, and recultured. This effectively makes Feaster an anomalous early spring harvest festival, but in a place with no natural seasons. Many of the microgravity crop varieties grow much longer (both in length and in time) than their terrestrial counterparts, being unrestrained by gravity, and are continuously harvested from lateral shoots and just under the apical meristem. Crops such as lettuce and Brassicas have exceptionally sturdy, long "canes" and are used to make Easter brooms. While these are technically a tool, most are a symbolic decoration for the holiday and elaborately adorned with ribbons and flowers. Households will often hang them on the door or over windows at their residence, as a representation of their service for the station. Particularly nasty maintenance tasks often give out fancy decorative brooms, molded metal or myla collectables, and other trinkets as a reward to citizens willing to undertake them. These prizes are often prominently displayed by those who receive them, for bragging rights.

Compulsory maintenance weeks have their root in Nexus Jovia's history as a small mining and research space station. Even as its population ballooned into the millions and it expanded to over a hundred kilometers wide, the ethos of the little station has carried forward: the only thing keeping a space station from killing its inhabitants is continual maintenance by its inhabitants. April Maintenance Week's nearness to Easter was originally a coincidence, but after chabbits, (also known as "Easter bunnies," a GMO pet that lays colorful eggs) were introduced and popularized as a space livestock, the two became associated. In modern Jovia, chabbits are a staple livestock prized for their eggs, meat, and manure. For many Jovians, Easter Feast is not complete without whole grilled chabbit at the center of the table.

[babeyun]

bubblegum ☆ y.jw [m]

synopsis: from raspberry sour belts to strawberry crème filled chocolates, you know jungwon like the back of your hand...when it comes to candy. he's far deeper than meets the eye. genre: acquaintances to lovers au. candyshop au, college au. fluff, smidge of angst, suggestive themes. pairing: college student!yang jungwon x fem!candy shop attendant!reader word count: 11.9k (sorry...) rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, mentions of food, stress and bad coping mechanisms. jungwon has a sweet tooth. reader and jungwon are both subtly flirtatious in their own ways. reader wears glasses but hates them. there is NO smut in this, just kissing and heavy petting, suggestive themes. pet names (pretty, pretty girl, baby, etc.) what to listen to: bubblegum - newjeans ; crush - seventeen ; trivia 承: love - bts ; blossom - enhypen. author's note: [star dividers by @/saradika here on tumblr!] ah! i came up with this concept so quickly it made my head spin, but i really hope everyone likes it? this is super late, it is past six in the morning as i post this but either way...happiest birthday to my absolute baby, my wonsito. i love u!

SATURDAY, 7:39PM.

"We're out of raspberry sour belts." Jungwon groans inwardly as he hears your voice call through the store, your hands busy with the restock cart as you push past the candy carousels. His hand shoves the tongs back into their slot, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He bites down on his gum, trying not to grind his teeth as he chews it carefully. "You're sure?" He asks meekly, resting his head against the carousel display that showed off chocolate bunnies made for the Valentine's Day sale. You glance up from your cart, holding a bag of sour cherry balls as you nod. He can see your lips moving but he can't hear what you're saying, his eyes too focused on the glimmer of your lipgloss in the low light of the shop.

"Might have some in the back, but it'll take me a minute to check. Feel free to continue perusing, we have those strawberry crème melts you like on Carousel G." The gesture you make with the scoop you've picked up from the candy container makes him snap back to reality, and he nods like he was listening. He wanders off, before hearing you snicker quietly.

"G, Jungwon. As in Girlfriend, not that you'd know anything about that." You call, and he ducks out of sight embarrassedly. 

Jungwon had long been a customer of your father's candy shop. He met you about six years ago, when your father finally allowed you to start working there part-time to save some pocket money for school. The two of you wound up going to the same university a few miles away, and you kept working at the shop – and Jungwon kept coming back.

He had become quite the regular – often finishing the raspberry sour belts, the strawberry crème melts, and your personal favorites: the chocolate almonds. He recalls you scowling when you'd find yourself yearning for a crunchy, chocolatey delight – only to arrive at the shop for your shift and seeing Jungwon, eyes heavy with stress, filling his candy bag with the last of them.  You've learned to settle for the strawberry yoghurt almonds, but they just don't hit the same. (And Jungwon feels guilty, so he leaves the almonds alone every once in a while. He enjoys seeing you smile lightly when you skirt past them and click the container closed to save them for yourself.)

You make smalltalk with Jungwon, asking about his classes and his friends. It's always the same – his classes are okay, his friends are okay, he is okay. He asks you the same questions – your classes are fine, your friends are sparse and you're alright. You're both juniors, you're both maxed out with your schedules and you're both stressed – but it's like none of that translates into your conversations. Almost as if the weight of it all is lifted when you speak to each other, even if it's the bare minimum.

That's about as far as your conversations go anyway, unless you're directing him around the shop as if he'd never been there before. He can't help but let you be his human GPS though, not when he acts like he hadn't been there in years just to hear your voice. As if everything hasn't been in the same spot since your father first opened the shop.

"Uhm, do you guys still have those salted caramel taffies? My friend just asked me for some." He pipes up quietly, and your eyes flicker up to him with a furrow in your brows.

"I think so? We did move those from their old carousel, they should be on the shelf wall now. Above the yoghurt pretzels but below the chocolate raisins. Odd placing, but I don't question my dad." You shrug, your hands now busy with caramel apple suckers and pouring them into the clear bin. He nods, mostly to himself as he skirts to the back, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. He takes it out, seeing two messages from the same friend that owes him over eighty bucks in saltwater taffy.

NEW! Msg From: Jake [7:43PM] is the cute girl there [7:43PM] you should ask if she's single

He scoffs, shoving his phone back into his pocket and opening the case. He listens to you rustle around, the satisfying sound of candy pouring nothing in comparison to the soft tone of your voice. Sometimes you spoke a lot more, particularly on days where you weren't stuck restocking – or filling in for your coworker, Jaehee…who loved to call out around the holidays.

He hears you walking away, and feels alone as the sound of candy stops. He likes your presence, he may even have a bit of a crush on you.

Okay. He has a big crush on you. He's had a crush on you for three fucking years, and not once has he been able to make a move.

"So stupid." He hears you mumbling to yourself, the furrow in your brows not leaving as he looks over his shoulder at you, seeing your phone in your hand as you typed furiously. He lets his brows raise as he shuts the taffy container, making his way to you and clearing his throat. He stays a few feet away as you look up at him, your eyes tired and annoyed but your voice still sweet.

"Ready?" "Yep. Sorry about…whatever is frustrating you." He winces as he gestures at your phone, and you just scoff out a laugh.

"Not your fault, Jungwon. Jaehee'll be the death of me, you know." You shake your head, shoving your phone in your pocket before turning on your heel and leading the way to the register. Your father insisted on remaining old-school – so much so, that the calculator you used to add up the prices had long lost the numbers off the keys.

"On the scale, please." You tapped it, and Jungwon placed his bag in the metal bowl and reached into his pocket for his wallet. You punched the keys in, turning the calculator to him. Eight dollars, ninety-two cents. "Sounds reasonable." He shrugs, making you smirk. You took the bag off the scale, tying it closed with your favorite baby blue ribbon. Jungwon had often watched you let children choose what color they wanted to tie their bag shut, but you never let him choose. He smiled inwardly at the information that fed his subtle delusion, before sliding a wad of cash into your awaiting hand. "Keep the change." He murmured, taking the bag off the counter when you raised a brow at him, shaking your head. "You're forgetting something." His brow furrowed, and he felt around his pockets. Wallet, phone, keys. He felt his head, sunglasses. "What?" "Say thank you, Jungwon." You smiled, pulling a box of raspberry sour belts out from under the register. The sticker that usually reads the best by date had a new label typed beneath today's date.

MADE FOR: YJW.

His eyes widened, and they flickered up to you as you slid the box across the counter to him. "I thought you said–" "Still haven't heard you say thank you, Jungwon." He scoffed, his ears feeling hot as he took the box between lithe fingers. He cleared his throat, "How mu–" "Say thank you." You repeated, not looking at him as you popped the register open, smoothing the bills he'd given you into their warranted spaces. He sighed, tongue toying with the silver ring through his lip. Your eyes were now pointed, arms crossed on your chest as you waited for him to speak.

"Thank you, Y/N." "You're welcome, Jungwon." This…this was the confusing part of your interactions.

You were curt, short and sweet. Your smile was extended to every customer that crossed the threshold of the shop, your eyes shimmered with delight when someone sampled a recommendation of yours and fell in love with it. You laughed, giggled, chortled with those who cracked jokes, and you empathized with those who came in with broken hearts, in need of a little treat to lift their spirits.

But this? This was reserved for him. It was an unspoken thing you did – never charging him for whatever it may have been that you hid away for him. Whether it was raspberry sour belts, strawberry crème melts…even the occasional caramel apple sucker, he never paid for it and he wasn't sure if it was you being nice or you flirting with him.

It was even worse when you'd touch him softly, casually. Like you had zero idea the effect you had on him. Like the ghosting touch of your palm on his shoulder as you guided him through the shop, or when he said something that made you laugh.

Well…you didn't but that's not the point here.

"Have a good night." You murmured, a soft smile on your glossed lips snapping him out of his trance once more. He cleared his throat roughly, mumbling a you too before skirting out of the shop. The street was damp with rain, and he huffed as he walked towards his car, your lips cemented in his mind.

Does your lipgloss have a flavor? Is it something he'd like? 

Would you let him kiss you?

He groans to himself, yanking his car door open before looking up and seeing you flicking the sign to say CLOSED. Your eyes wander, and they land on him – you smile, waving gently before turning on your heel and walking away from the large windows.

God, he's so fucked.

TUESDAY, 7:40PM.

"We're about to close." You're restocking again when he slips into the shop, your hands covered in blue powder from what he assumes are blue raspberry sour straws that came apart. You look frustrated, so he quietly takes his bag from the front of the shop when you look up, about to reiterate that the shop is going to close.

He sees your eyes change, your shoulders sagging as you give him a pitiful smile.

"Hey, Jungwon. Sorry about the mess. Feel free, but be quick please." You roll your eyes, your glasses sitting atop your head as you squint. He shakes his head, reaching for your glasses and pulling them gently off your head. He holds them up to you, making you grimace at the blue powder from the candy coating the lenses. "Great. Now I'm covered in blue raspberry bullshit and I can't see. This is terrific." You mutter, looking around for the wet wipes you usually kept on your restock cart. Jungwon absentmindedly rubbed the lens of your glasses with his sweater sleeve, the blue powder seeping into his black hoodie. He held them up to the light, before switching sleeves and wiping them again.

You looked back up, wipes in hand to see him hold up your cleaned glasses. You squinted at him, his hands gingerly sliding your glasses onto your face and walking away before you could see the powder staining his sleeves. He rolls the cuffs up, hiding it from view as he beelines for Carousel G. 

The display is now stocked with a new flavor of bubblegum – raspberry swirl. He glances at it before looking over at you, watching you grimace as you carefully pour chocolate nonpareils into Carousel A. He clears his throat, garnering your attention.

"New?" He murmurs, and you blink at him, before putting the candy down and making your way over to him. You slide your hands in your apron pockets, the remaining blue powder looking like an avant garde choice across the white vinyl.

"You okay, Jungwon?" You whispered, his eyes flickering to you before he hummed.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asked, twirling the magenta bubblegum in his fingers. You step in front of him, taking the bubblegum from his hand and unwrapping it for him. You hold the cellophane taut, prompting him to take the bubblegum from it. He does, his lip jutted out slightly in a pout as he shoves it into his cheek.

"Midterms, maybe? I know your classes are stressful." Your voice is laced with empathy, and he picks at his nails before sighing. Looking up, he sees your laptop and a bunch of your textbooks sprawled across the front counter. "Your classes are stressful too, though. Aren't they?" He searches your face, and you push your glasses up slightly, before running a hand through your hair with a sigh. You shrug your shoulders, as if to say could be worse.

"I'm a little…overwhelmed." He mumbles, fumbling with the cellophane bag in his hands. You nod, plucking a piece of the raspberry bubblegum off the display and unwrapping it quickly, shoving it into your mouth as you sigh.

"I'm sorry. I'd offer candy but it wouldn't be much, would it?" You tilt your head, a soft smile laced on your face as he lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head.

"It does more than you think, actually. Helps keep me grounded, I don't know. I tend to snack when I study, that's why you see me here so often." He rolls his eyes, "I'm trying to break the habit." "Oh, but then I wouldn't see you. That'd be a shame." You sound almost sad as you eye him, his cheeks heating under your gaze. You're about to speak again when you hear the doorbell chime, and you turn immediately to greet the person. Jungwon takes the moment to slink away, hiding himself away towards the back as the person announces they need to place a custom order for Valentine's Day.

Raspberry sour belts…strawberry crème melts…two pieces of pear taffy.

He doesn't pack his bag with much this time around, ignoring the urge to fill it the rest of the way with cherry jelly beans. He peers over Carousel M to see if you're still busy, and sees your smile wide as you carefully fill out the paper on the clipboard for the customer. He hears flavors being rattled off, and you write just as fast as they're being said.

He decides to circle back to the jelly beans, grabbing an ounce cup to fill and duck into his bag. You're telling the customer his total by the time Jungwon is done, and you've exchanged money and goodbyes when Jungwon inches back up towards the front. You give him a quick smile before sneaking over to the door and flipping the sign, waving sorely at a few customers who wanted in. They just give you a thumbs up. "Exciting stuff." Your voice is pinched with a bit of sarcasm as you climb back up behind the counter and gesture to the order, full of fruity flavors and chewy treats. He half-smiles, nodding solemnly before sliding his bag onto the scale as you grab the calculator. You flip to him.

Six dollars and ten cents. You cut the same baby blue ribbon for him as he pulls his wallet out, and he mumbles the same thing about keeping the change as he grabs for his bag. You stop him, holding the bag just out of reach as you frown.

"I know we don't have the same major or have the same classes, but do you think you'd need a study buddy?" Your eyes are serious, and Jungwon feels inclined to say no. He knows he wouldn't get any work done, not when your eyes are so pretty and your laughter makes his stomach fill with butterflies. Not when your voice is so soothing, he could fall asleep just listening to you right now.

He forces himself to find his voice, clearing his throat.

"I don't know if you'd want to do that, I'm going to have to study through the Valentine's Day weekend. Don't you have plans?" He rubbed his neck, and you shrugged.

"I don't have plans, and I assume you don't either if you're going to be holding yourself away to study." You raise a brow, as if daring him to challenge your assumption. He scoffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair as he shakes his head.

Pretty girl like you doesn't have plans? "No, no plans. Not this year." He shrugs, watching you pull your apron off. You fling it over the back of the chair behind the counter, one he often saw you sitting at if he came in when you were studying. He hears you chuckle slightly, shaking your head as you print a bit of empty receipt paper and tear it off, sliding a pen between your teeth as you round the counter. "This is my number. We can spend the weekend studying like bitchless losers. I'm also free this Sunday, if you are too." You nod as you write the numbers on the paper, folding it quickly and holding it out to him along with his bag. He clears his throat, nodding even though Sunday is his birthday.

"Oh, and Jungwon?" "Yes?" "I hate seeing you so mopey. A hug for your thoughts?" You hold your arms out, and his instinctive response is to fiddle with the silver ring through his lip as his cheeks heat. You wiggle your fingers, a soft smile on your lips as he nods slowly. He puts the bag of candy on the counter, inching into your embrace before you roll your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck, his own instinctively going around your waist and resting his hands in the middle of your back loosely..

You're warm, God, you're so warm. Your hair smells like baby powder, your sweater riddled with a creamy strawberry scent. He can't help but wrap his arms around you tighter, pulling you closer and burying his face into your shoulder. He feels the cool metal of your dangling earring against his neck as you coddle against him with a hum.

"Feel better?" You murmur, the feeling of your breath against the shell of his ear making him shiver. It makes you laugh softly, your fingers coming to the nape of his neck and carding through the mess of waves. You make no move to slip away, but Jungwon tightens his hold around you anyway.

He doesn't know how long it's been until you start swaying slightly, humming softly along to the music still playing in the shop. It sounds like Valentine by Laufey.

"Sorry." He mumbles into your shoulder, blinking slowly. He feels you shake your head, your hand rubbing down his shoulders in an attempt to comfort. You don't move away, and Jungwon is beginning to think he could never get out of your embrace if you don't make the first move.

"Don't be. If I'm honest, this is making me kind of sleepy." You chuckle lightly, continuing to sway with him. "I still have to walk home."

"You walk?" He jerks his head back, looking to see your eyes slightly tired behind your glasses. You shrug, nodding. "Yeah, on most nights. It's fine, though, I only worry when it's raining." "It's been raining all week, Y/N." He says pointedly, his arms still wrapped around you as you roll your eyes. 

"I'll live." "Let me drive you home tonight. You're almost done here, right?"

He doesn't know how he's speaking so confidently, and even you look a bit taken aback before nodding.

"Uh, yeah. Are you sure? I wouldn't want to inconvenience you–" "You're not. I can wait." He doesn't give you much of a chance to say anything, patting your back gently before pulling away. You move around the shop quickly, and Jungwon turns your laptop around to peer at your studying material. All he sees is words ending in -otomy, and he scrunches his nose before saving your progress on the program and closing the device. He spots your bookmarks scattered across the counter, slipping them between the pages and shutting the books, stacking them up carefully. He places your laptop on top of the books, before you skirt back around to the counter, rolling the restock cart into the backroom.

You move behind the counter, hanging the apron up and gathering the money in the register. You count it quickly, shoving it into a manila envelope and scribbling across the front in fuschia Sharpie before sliding it into the safe behind you. He watches as you quietly slip the heavy textbooks into your bag, your face holding a frown as you zip it up. You're about to pull it off the counter and over your shoulders when Jungwon grabs the strap.

"I'll carry it." He says quickly, moving the bag to his shoulder before you can object. He swears he sees a glint of bashfulness in your eyes as you clear your throat, a soft thank you slipping as you round the counter again, swinging your keys around your finger as he grabs his bag of candy (and the little paper with your number.) He steps out of the shop, digging his car keys out of his pocket as you turn the lights off and lock the doors.

"Are you sure, Jungwon? I really don't want you to have to go out of your way." You wince, clutching the keys in your hand as he scoffs.

"Y/N, you're insane if you think I'm ever going to not offer you a ride home after finding out how much your backpack weighs." He grimaces, and you bite back your laughter. "Now, come on. You can give me directions when we get in the car." Like a true gentleman, he opens the door for you. He waits until you're settled in before closing it, opening his back door and placing your bag gingerly in the footwell. He rounds the car, opening his door and settling in quickly, putting his bag of candy in the center console.

"Where to?" He asks as he shoves the key in the ignition, feeling your eyes on him. He peers up at you, your face unreadable. "Y/N?" "Sorry, what?" You blink, and he huffs out a laugh. "I said, where to?" He gestures to the road, and you nod quickly, taking your phone out and typing your address into the GPS. He glances at it, pulling out of his parking spot when he realizes you live in the same apartment complex as he does. "Y/N." "What?"

He scoffs, reaching over and ending the route on your phone. You scrunch your nose, and he holds up his keyfob for the parking garage – the white sticker screaming Decelis Student Apartments. 

"You live there, too? How come I've never seen you?" You gasp, tucking your phone between your thighs and facing him as he fiddles with the radio. He shakes his head.

"You probably live on the West End. I share an apartment with my friends Jake and Sunoo on the North End. Our friends all live on the West End and we never see them at the complex." He snorts, settling when the radio plays out cool jazz. You nod, your lips forming an o-shape as he gets on the main road.

"I do live on the West End. My dad picked my apartment, he said it had the best view of the city." You shrug, and he nods.

"Sunoo picked ours. I wasn't going to move out of the dorms initially, but then my ceiling fell through and the University wanted me to pay for it. I said fuck that and I moved out the next week." He grimaces, and you choke out a laugh.

"Your ceiling fell through?!"

"Tell me about it, man. And I was upset, of course, but I was even more upset because the debris crushed a project I'd been working on for three weeks for my design course. I failed the semester because of that, can you believe it?" You don't respond, opting to bite back your giggles as he huffs.

"It's not funny!" "It's not, it's not. I'm sorry, Won." Won.

He doesn't bother replying, knowing he'd be a stuttering mess. Instead, the car fills with comfortable silence as you settle into the warm feeling of his old car. The warmth blasting through the vents is enough to make you sleepy, and he can tell because you're dozing off in the seat. He lets you nod off, driving carefully through the winding streets of the city. He frowns when he sees a bit of rain start to fall, fat drops of water landing on his windshield as he pulls into the West End parking garage. He'd have to walk in the rain to get to his side of the complex, and likely for over an hour.

He didn't have class tomorrow, either. He could leave his car there…maybe the cold of the rain would make the delusions of you go away.

"Y/N." He called softly, making you stir. You don't open your eyes, only humming in response and stretching your legs. He sees you wiggle your feet, rolling his eyes in amusement before he calls your name again. "Y/N. We're here." "Shit, sorry." You mutter, crossing your arms over your chest and snuggling deeper into the seat. Something about you sitting in his car with him, going home makes his chest fill with an odd feeling. Something feels closer, something feels more domestic than it ever had.

It feels oddly comforting.

"Y/N." He reaches over, unbuckling your seat belt and making you jolt awake. You furrow your brows at him, a scowl on your lips as he smiles. "As pretty as you are in my passenger seat, you have to sleep in your bed. C'mon, I'll carry your bag." "You think I'm pretty?" Your eyes are wide, and he feels his stomach drop to his ass. Did he say that shit out loud? "Of course I do. I'd be an idiot not to." He mumbles back, turning the car off as he unbuckles his seat belt. He can feel the heat of your eyes on him, but he ignores it as he slips out of the car. He's doing mental gymnastics, overthinking everything as he opens your door, offering his hand to help you out. You take it gingerly, and he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge as he closes the door. He expects you to let go of his hand, but you don't – instead, holding onto it gently as he grabs your bag out of the backseat. He looks up at you as he closes the door, your bag hoisted over his shoulder.

You're just looking at him, a slight twitch of your lips as you tug on his hand.

"This way. I'm 3B." You slot your fingers in his, and Jungwon struggles not to breathe shakily as you pull him through the sliding doors of the parking garage, past the stairs. Your hand is so warm against his, your thumb rubbing gentle circles into his skin as you reach your apartment. Your doormat is shaped like a cinema ticket, ADMIT ONE scrawled across the coir.

You don't let go of his hand as you stick your keys in the doorknob, unlocking it quickly and pulling him in. You let go once he's passed the threshold, a soft tada! from your lips as he takes in your apartment.

This feels like a breach into a new perspective. Your space is spotless, but the coziest thing he'd ever seen in his life. A few throw blankets over a huge couch, lots of mood lightning, a few neon signs across the walls. Your kitchen outlet has a strawberry-shaped night light plugged into it, and lots of Polaroids hung up with clothespins pinched over twine.

"Nice place." He murmurs, looking around quietly. He gestures to your backpack, and you pull out one of the chairs at your dining table. He slips it off, setting it on the cushion before clearing his throat. "Thank you, for the ride and for carrying my things. You really didn't have to." You nod, and he rolls his eyes. "Y/N, I'd do it a million times over. Stop carrying all those books, you're going to hurt your back." He attempts to scold you, but it only makes you smile inwardly, shrugging your shoulders. He inches towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by the steps your relationship has taken in such a short amount of time…

…But God, if he doesn't like it. He could even go as far as saying he loved it.

"Don't forget to text me, okay? We're friends, I don't want you to feel stressed if I can help it." You nod, and he clears his throat as you carefully pry the front door open. He slips out, standing on your doormat as he speaks.

"I'll try not to, I'll save your number when I get home. Goodnight, Y/N."

Something about your eyes is screaming at him, but he can't pinpoint what it is as you trail your gaze around his face. Ultimately, you smile gently, nodding your head curtly. "Goodnight, Won."

FRIDAY, 5:21PM.

"I'm not going to embarrass you, I swear. Not this close to your birthday, anyway." Jake had been begging Jungwon to take him to the shop to see you in person ever since Tuesday, seeing Jungwon walk up to the apartment door typing something into his phone through the Ring camera. When Jake found out it was your number, he flipped.

Literally. A backflip in the living that ended up breaking a lamp. Sunoo's lamp, specifically. You know how that goes.

"You better not. And you're paying." Jungwon grumbles, opening the door to the shop. He doesn't see you, but he can hear you – and you're grumbling. He looks back at Jake, who is peering over Jungwon's shoulder. You're angrily refilling the strawberry yoghurt almonds, muttering about something with your brows furrowed. You seem entirely too upset to even notice that you're not alone, so Jungwon takes the opportunity to glance at Jake. "She's pretty. I'm a little scared, but she's pretty." He mumbles, and Jungwon rolls his eyes as he grabs a cellophane bag and hands one to his friend. They both quietly make their way around the shop, Jake sticking to Jungwon like glue when your head finally whips up, your eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Jesus, you guys scared me!" You breathe out, your hand to your chest as Jungwon snickers. "Well, you seemed pretty upset and kind of in your own world. Didn't want to poke the bear." He shrugs, and you suck your teeth, about to snip back when you notice Jake behind him. Jungwon sees your eyes go wide, wincing at your unprofessionalism as you try to rectify the situation.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you, uhm…please let me know if you need any assistance." You smile, and Jungwon glances at Jake, who is smiling back with a nod. Jake pats Jungwon's shoulder, mumbling something about circulating the shop to let him have his moment with you. 

You wait until Jake leaves to give Jungwon a scornful look, but he can't see anything but the way your lip is jutted out in a pout.

Cute, he thinks.

"You didn't text me." You say, crossing your arms over your chest as Jungwon opens the chocolate almond container. He scoffs lightly, tonguing his lip ring as he nods, his cheeks heating slightly. Looking up at you, he sees an expectant look on your face.

"I…sorry. I was nervous." He mumbles, wincing as the confident persona he had when he walked in slipped away. You hummed, an unamused look on your face as you dug your phone out of your pocket. "Give me your number, since I have to do everything myself."

Your voice is teasing, so he knows you're not really upset. He feels his face grow hotter as you flip your phone and hold it out to him, and he takes it gently. He types his number in shakily, clearing his throat as he hands it back to you.

"I will see you on Sunday, yes?" You raise a brow, and Jungwon sees Jake's head pop up from around Carousel B.

"Sunday? Jungwon, we have plans." Jake speaks up, wincing as he sees the death glare being sent over your shoulder by the younger boy.

"Plans?" Your eyes are wide with confusion, but Jake doesn't give Jungwon a chance to explain before he slides over and does it for him.

"I'm sorry, we haven't formally met. I'm Jake." He holds his hand out to you, and Jungwon watches as you take it gingerly. You give it a firm shake and tell him your name, but your face is still muddled. "You're roommates, right?" "Yes. Jungwon, does Y/N know it's your birthday on Sunday?" Your eyes widen, your hand coming to cover your mouth as you gasp.

"Jungwon! You let me ask you to study together on your birthday? Are you insane?!" "I wasn't going to do anything for my birthday anyway? I was just going to hide myself away in my room, order takeout and study until my brain melted out of my ears." Jungwon shrugs. Jake rolls his eyes, moving his hair out of his face before speaking to you.

"Y/N, we're having a little movie night. I'm formally inviting you. Bring whatever you want, or nothing at all. Jungwon, give her our address." Jake scoffs, shoving Jungwon's shoulder lightly. "Studying all night on your birthday, are you mad?"

Jake walks away, leaving Jungwon in your presence. You press your lips into a thin line, "You should've told me, Jungwon. I would've left it for another day."

He doesn't get a chance to reply, your eyes softening as you scan his face.

"I feel like a bad friend because I didn't know. I'm sorry, I should've asked."

The sad look glazing over your eyes feels like a punch in the gut.

"No! No, please don't feel bad, Y/N. It really wasn't that important, and I should've told you I had prior plans." He tries, but you shake your head, putting your hands on his shoulders. "Birthdays are important, Jungwon. It is the one day that is all about you. It's important to me." You squeeze his shoulders lightly, and his chest fills with that odd feeling again. Something about you is so, so comforting.

Your hands drop and you tuck them into your apron pockets with a soft smile, and the words tumble out before he can stop them.

"Why would it be important to you? It's not like we're best friends." If you're affected by his words, you don't show it much. You only nod, nibbling on your lip before clearing your throat. For the first time, your smile is different towards him. It's the smile you use with customers who don't get the hint, or those who make you upset by letting their kids cause havoc in the shop. It makes his chest hurt.

"Of course, Jungwon. My apologies."

You turn on your heel, rolling the restock cart away and allowing him to move around freely. Jungwon catches Jake's eyes over one of the carousels, and he's not sure what expression is on his face that Jake's furrows into one of confusion and a bit of disdain. He slinks over, bag full of salted caramel taffy.

"Everything okay?" He murmurs, and Jungwon pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Let's just go home." He whispers, watching as you pat the top of your head for your glasses. You slide them down your face, swiping your hair out of your eyes and settling back behind the counter. You continue to nibble on the inside of your cheek, your focus now on your phone screen as you begin typing across the screen.

The two of them trek up to the counter, and you tuck your phone away to help them check out. You tap the scale lightly, and Jake sets his bag in it. You give Jungwon a pointed look, and he shakes his head, crumpling the empty cellophane bag in his hand. Shrugging, you click the numbers into the calculator, flipping it over for them to see. "Nine dollars, fifteen cents." 

Jake digs his wallet out but Jungwon is faster, handing you a wad of cash and mumbling about the change. He doesn't even give you a chance to ask Jake what color ribbon he wants to tie his bag, because he takes it off the scale and pushes it into Jake's chest.

"See you around, Y/N." Jake sighs as Jungwon sulks out of the shop, and you shake your head disappointedly. "See you, Jake."

Jungwon's hand is buried in his container of cherry jelly beans, head stuck between his textbook when his phone buzzes on his desk.

NEW! Msg From: Y/N [7:49PM] hi, jungwon. it's y/n. [7:49PM] i just wanted to say i'm sorry for earlier. it's been weighing on me a bit. [7:50PM] i hope your birthday goes well :) don't worry about studying together, and have a good valentine's weekend!

He sits up quickly, snatching his phone off his desk. His lock screen widgets tell him it's raining, and the rumble of thunder confirms it.

Msg To: Y/N [7:53PM] i'm coming to drive you home, it's raining. [7:54PM] we can talk in person, okay?

He doesn't wait for a reply, shoving his phone in his pocket and grabbing his keys off his nightstand. He walks right past Jake and Sunoo sitting on the couch, watching reruns of Bad Girls Club. "Woah, woah! Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Jake calls over his shoulder, making Jungwon huff as he pulls on his windbreaker. "Giving Y/N a ride home. It's pouring out there." He mutters, grabbing his umbrella from the stand as Sunoo peers over Jake's head.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? The forecast said the rain is only going to get worse." Jungwon just sighs, zipping up his windbreaker before giving them a pointed look. "I'll be back." Neither of the men get a chance to say anything because Jungwon slams out of the apartment, barreling down the hall towards the parking garage. He finds his car by clicking his keyfob several times, wincing at the loud cracks of lightning across the night sky. He manages to pull out of the parking garage safely, clicking his tongue as he turns his heater on blast.

The drive to the shop is only six or so minutes, but the rain is coming down so strong that he can hardly see the road. His hazards are on, and he takes it slow – eventually seeing the lights of the shop come into view. He parks incredibly slowly, worming into the spot with practiced precision. Grimacing, he opens his door and shoves his umbrella out first, turning the car off quickly and sliding out. He slams the door a little too hard, but skips over the forming pools of water on the curb.

He's walking quickly towards the shop, seeing you scribbling on another manila envelope. Pulling the door open, your head snaps up, eyes wide before you blink. He doesn't speak, opting to shake his umbrella off outside before setting it on the black mat that you have in front of the door. Wiping his feet, he carefully makes his way over to the counter.

"I was an asshole, Y/N." You blink at him, flipping the fuschia Sharpie between your fingers.

"I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry. I just…it's not a big deal to me. If it had been, I would've told you. I wouldn't have said yes to studying, and I wouldn't have planned to turn my phone on Do Not Disturb the entire day if I had cared about my birthday." You blink again, nodding softly. Letting out a soft breath, you fiddle with the crease of the envelope in your hand, tapping it against your palm.

"Just because it's not something you care about, does not mean that the people who care about you shouldn't care. You should let yourself be celebrated, you should let yourself feel loved, Jungwon. We are surrounded by so much anger and hatred in this world, should we not cherish the love and appreciation that rains upon us on our special day? A day that comes once a year. Anniversaries, birthdays…those things are important." Your voice is gentle, but he feels it deep, deep in his chest.

"Studying can wait, you have your entire life to study and learn. Living in the moment, making memories, even if it's just sitting around a television and watching a movie together. That matters, those moments count. You should cherish them, don't you think?" You're leaning slightly over the counter, and he sighs inwardly, but nods.

"Yeah." "Yeah?" You whisper, a soft smile on your lips as you reach over and ruffle his hair. He swats your hand away carefully, making you snort as you turn around and slip the manila envelope into the safe. He waits quietly as you pack your backpack, instinctively reaching for the strap and hoisting it over his shoulder as you walk around the counter. You grab your coat off the rack in the entrance, fishing your keys out of the pocket as you tug it on.

You flick the lights off, and Jungwon steps out first, opening his umbrella to cover the two of you as you lock the door.

"Man, it's really pouring out here, huh?" You mutter, tucking your keys into your pocket as Jungwon nods. The two of you walk in silence to the car, everything panning out the exact same way it did the first time. Jungwon scrunches his nose as he steps into the car, not bothering to shake the umbrella off as he tosses it into the back with your backpack.

"I'm sorry, again. I don't know what came over m–" You slide your hand over his mouth, the sweet scent of raspberry floating off it. "Stop. It's over, okay? We move forward, no looking back."

His okay is muffled, and you give him a half-smile as you drop your hand, leaning your head back on the seat. You reach into your coat pocket, and hold out a piece of raspberry swirl bubblegum. "No more apologies, Won." He takes it quietly, his lip pouting as he shoves the gum into his cheek. The car is silent as he drives the two of you back home carefully, your eyes barely open as he pulls into the West End parking garage. He undoes your seat belt, making you scowl again as he bites back his smile. This time, he takes your backpack out first, shoving it onto his shoulder before opening your door and offering his hand.

"C'mon. Up we go." He wiggles his fingers, your tired eyes peering up at him as you sigh. You take his hand, your fingers cool to the touch as you interlace them with his. 

The walk to your apartment is slow and deliberate, your thumb once more tracing circles into his skin. Nothing is said – not as you fumble for your keys, not as you invite him into your apartment or as he slides the backpack off onto the same dining chair. Nothing, until he turns to face you and you're holding the door open slightly, your coat now slid off and hung up on the hook behind the door..

"Will you come over on Sunday? I'll make one of the guys come get you if I can't myself." He asks meekly, and you smile tiredly before nodding.

"Yeah, I'll be there." "And we'll study together next weekend?" 

"Yeah, Won. We can study together." You chuckle, holding your arms out. "Hug it out? I don't like tension."

It's almost embarrassing how quickly Jungwon throws himself into your embrace, burying his face into your neck once more. Your fingers are gentle as they card through his hair, and he relishes in the comfort of your arms, eyes closed.

It's only when he feels you press your lips to his cheek that his eyes snap open, but you speak before he can.

"As much as I enjoy this, I'm going to fall asleep standing up." You murmur in his ear, and he hates how he shivers at the feeling of your breath on his skin. He pulls back, clearing his throat as you smile tenderly. "Goodnight, Jungwon." He doesn't know how he finds his voice, mumbling a delicate good night before slinking out of your apartment. He's not even sure how he gets home, his car now parked in the North End garage and his eyes glued to the ground as he unlocks his front door. Jake and Sunoo are still seated there, casually looking up as Jungwon shuts the door.

He rests his back against it, before feeling his legs turn into jelly as he slides down it.

Jake snorts, "What happened to you? You'd think you finally manned up and kissed the girl." Sunoo snorts, hurriedly tapping Jake's shoulder and pointing at the distressed roommate on the ground. "More like she kissed him. There's lip gloss on his cheek." Jungwon only sinks further onto the floor, a noise mixed with a groan and a scream from his throat as he covers his heating face. His voice is whiny as Jake and Sunoo get off the couch and crouch around him, Sunoo's cool hand moving the younger's off his face. "She kissed me goodnight."

"That's a big step for you, isn't it?" Jake teases, and Jungwon knows it's childlike but he kicks his feet petulantly anyway. Jake laughs, running his fingers through the younger's hair gently. "But a step in the right direction, Won. I'd say take it in stride." "I agree. I'd go as far as saying she's interested in you, too." Sunoo's voice has a lilt to it, before his fingers tilt Jungwon's face towards him. "Oh, and she has good taste. I got this lip gloss for my sister a few weeks ago, I think it's called Raspberry Swirl." Raspberry Swirl.

"You know that just by looking at it?" Jake ponders aloud, grabbing Jungwon's arm to pull him off the floor. Sunoo shrugs, mirroring Jake's actions and pulling Jungwon to his feet.

"I got the same one for you for Kazuha's birthday, didn't I? I know my shit." He scoffs, and Jungwon huffs as he tugs his jacket off.

"I can never wash my face. This has to stay here permanently." He hangs the jacket up on the rack, making Jake snort.

"Wash your face, you'll break out." He pats the younger's shoulder, who only shakes his head as he practically skips to his bedroom. The older men just snicker to themselves, opting to slump back onto the couch as they hear Jungwon squeal in his bedroom.

SUNDAY, 2:16PM.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Jungwon watches you glance up, holding the door open for Jaehee to slip through. She gives him a curt nod, before turning her attention back to you. 

"Almost twenty minutes, Jaehee. I told you I had plans today." You say as you avert your gaze back to the textbook in front of you, your hand gripping a blue gel pen as you scribble onto a notebook. Jungwon steps in quietly, not bothering to announce himself as he stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans against Carousel A.

"I know, I'm sorry. I missed the bus twice, I practically ran here." She scoffs, tugging her scarf off and skirting behind the counter. You only move forward a bit, grimacing as you tuck the shop's business card into the textbook as a page holder before shutting it.

"Anything I need to know before you leave? Aside from the fact that I now have to cover Valentine's Day weekend because of the stupid bus driving past me twice. Twice, Y/N! " "Geez, good vibes all around!" You smile, grabbing your empty backpack off the chair and setting it on the counter to slide your textbooks into it. Jungwon pushes off the carousel, brows jumping as you finally make eye contact with him. You grin, shrugging your shoulders as he reaches for the strap of the bag. He tugs it over his shoulder, and Jaehee gives him an odd glance.

"Is he part of your plans?" She elbows you lightly, making you roll your eyes. He just clears his throat, looking away as he digs in his pocket for his keys. You move to count the money in the register for your deposit as Jaehee ties the apron around her waist, hopping out into the backroom for the restock cart.

"Oh, Jaehee! Carousel B kicked the bucket this morning. Birthday party came in, the dad couldn't control them and they broke several of the containers." You groan, closing your eyes as you thumb through the cash. Jaehee makes a disappointed noise, crossing her arms as she surveys the wrecked carousel. Jungwon glances over, and sure enough – there is broken hinges and cracked plastic all over the now wasted candy in the containers.

"So no chocolate almonds, no butterscotch bites…aw man, no caramel nonpareils?" She pouts, thumbing at the cracked plastic. You shake your head begrudgingly, Jungwon looking up at you as you once more scribble in fuschia Sharpie on the manila envelope before sliding it into the safe behind you. You pull your apron over your head and hang it up, sighing as you stretch and walk out from behind the counter.

You've got a nice pair of blue jeans on, held up by a black leather belt that matches the watch around your wrist. You paired it with a cream v-neck sweater and a pink turtleneck. A thin, silver chain hangs low on your chest, and he tries not to stare too hard as you take the claw clip out of your hair, letting it fall down your back. He can hear you saying your goodbye to Jaehee, but can't say anything as you loop your arm with his and pull him out of the shop.

"How's your birthday so far, Won? Anything you wanna talk about?" 

He clears his throat, "Uhm, it's okay. Jake and Sunoo kicked me out of the apartment early to decorate, so I haven't been home yet. Heeseung and Jay are my other friends, they took me to breakfast and our friend Riki was there with a bunch of prepared gifts…I don't know. It felt…" "Good? Nice? You feel loved?" You tease, your hand wrapped around his bicep squeezing slightly as he sighed shakily. "Sure, let's say that. They don't usually go all out, but I guess twenty-one is a milestone." He murmurs to himself, and you click your tongue. "Every year is a milestone, Won." You say as he opens the car door, holding it as you slide in. Your eyes are pointed, and he looks away as he shuts the door. He slides your bag into the back again, but he feels it lighter. "Not as many books today?" He asks as he slides into the driver's seat, and you shake your head.

"I have other plans. There's this guy, his birthday is today and he thought we'd be holed away studying all day. Can you believe that?" You're grinning widely as you buckle in your seat belt, and he scoffs. "Wow, what a guy." He turns the car on, and you cross your legs at the knee before humming.

"Can we make a stop at my apartment? To drop off the bag, and I have something for you." Jungwon almost chokes as he jolts the car to a stop at the light, your eyes wide as you slide forward a bit. He winces, "Sorry, sorry! You didn't have to get my anything, Y/N. Seriously." "Consider it to be one of the things you cherish. Our friendship, I mean." You say, adjusting the seat belt back on your chest as you snuggle back into the seat. Jungwon doesn't reply, cheeks far too hot in embarrassment to even speak.

The rest of the ride is silent, aside from your soft breathing and the clicking sound as you play with the buttons on the door. Jungwon pulls carefully into the West End parking garage, seeing Jay and Heeseung carefully walking out of the apartment entrance with a box held between the two of them. Riki and Sunghoon hold the door open, their own hands full of bags as Riki catches Jungwon's eye.

"Are those your friends? That guy is staring awfully hard." You murmur, peering at Sunghoon from your seat in his car. Jungwon scoffs, nodding.

"Yeah. Be sure to tell him he has a staring problem, that freak." He mutters, and you laugh softly as he puts the car in park, turning the motor off as Jay and Heeseung start bickering as they get closer to Jay's car. Jungwon opens the door to hear Jay telling Heeseung to walk slower.

"If we drop it, I'm kicking your ass right here." Jay huffs, and Heeseung only rolls his eyes as he stops when he sees Jungwon rounding the car to get your bag. They both watch him, Riki and Sunghoon bumping into Jay's back because they're also just watching like idiots.

"Do you guys need something?" Jungwon grumbles as he opens your door, not offering his hand this time. He doesn't notice your disappointment as you step out on your own, tucking your hair behind your ear as he shuts the door. "Nope, nothing at all, loverboy." Sunghoon pipes up, earning a choked laugh from Riki.  "Let the guy live." Jay announces, and Jungwon thanks the older boy with a tight smile, guiding you to the entrance. However, Jungwon should've known better – because Heeseung opens his big, fat mouth.

"Is that the girl?" He doesn't say it loud enough for it to be heard, but it's a parking garage – everything bounces off the wall like Jungwon's fist is going to bounce off Heeseung's face the next time he gets him alone. He doesn't say anything as your eyes widen, wincing as you both slip into the apartment entrance and walk to your apartment. You don't speak, only unhooking your carabiner from your belt loop and swinging the keys around your fingers. You unlock the door, allowing him in first before closing it behind you.

"They like to tease you, right? I've heard men are like that."

He rolls his eyes and nods, sliding your backpack onto the dining chair as you slip into your kitchen. "It's their favorite pastime. You'd think we'd bully the youngest together, but it's always me." He huffs, tonguing the ring in his lip as he leans over the back of the chair. You only laugh from the kitchen, and he hears you rustling around before your head pops out of the division.

"Close your eyes." "Y/N, I don't like surprises." "C'mon, Won! Close your eyes, I promise it's worth it."

He can't deny you, not when you're practically vibrating out of your skin and bouncing on your toes. He sighs, running a hand through his hair before closing his eyes. "Alright, alright." He hears you walk over to him, placing a cold box in his hands. His nose scrunches as he feels around it, feeling a ribbon tied in a knot at the top.

"Open your eyes."

It's a box of candy from your father's shop, tied in baby blue ribbon. Not just any box, though – it's the candy mix boxes your father makes by hand the day before the order is set to be picked up. He'd only ever seen people buy them for their significant others for holidays, or anniversaries…

Or birthdays.

"Happy birthday! I know it's not much, but I did stay up all Saturday with my dad making these. We even gave you some stuff we're thinking of introducing at the shop, like these chocolate coins. They have a raspberry swirl, you like that, right?" You tap the corner of the clear box, and he eyes it. He does, he loves anything like that.

"You packed this yourself?" He murmurs, untying the knot slowly. You nod.

"Uh-huh. So there is a method to it, the top row is all stuff I've seen you pick out. Raspberry sour belts, strawberry crème melts, caramel apple hard candy and a few cherry jelly beans. Second row is stuff I've recommended that you've liked, such as the chocolate almonds, pear saltwater taffy, the raspberry bubblegum and the caramel nonpareils you had for an entire week in July. This last row is all new stuff, so the raspberry chocolate coins, some heart-shaped cherry disks, a few blueberry yoghurt almonds and then I put a few peach-raspberry fusion rings here. My dad wasn't sure you'd like them but I said we should try anyway." He's staring at you as you explain, your manicured nail carefully tapping the case as you move across it. He can tell you feel his eyes on you, because you shift with uncertainty as you look up at him.

"So, uh…what do you think? Is it okay?" 

"Yeah, it's perfect, actually. Thank you, Y/N." He whispers, running his thumb over the shop's stamp on the box. You nod slowly, before he sets the box down on the table. "Uhm, are you ready? I'm sure the guys are waiting–" "Is there something wrong, Jungwon?" You ask gently, your eyes worried and probing as you look at him. They flit all over his face as you nibble on your lip, a habit that visits his mind at the most inopportune moments – when he's studying, when he's taking a test, when he's in the shower, for fuck's sake.

"I can't think when you do that, stop it." He admits, his cheeks heating as your eyes widen. He looks away as you seem to let the pieces connect in your mind, before he hears your voice in his ear. "So…you? Me? You like me?" You look down, picking at your nails. He scoffs.

"Yeah, I have for a while. I'm sorry. I should go." He runs his tongue over his teeth, before pushing off the back of your dining chair. He doesn't bother picking the candy box back up as he fumbles with his keys, before he feels your hand on his arm yanking him back. 

He doesn't have time to think, your face far too close to his as he stumbles back in front of you. He breathes out shakily, feeling your glossed lips ghosting over his own – the soft scent of raspberry floating up and clouding his senses.

He feels his entire body heat up as you kiss him softly, your hands moving to hold his face in your palms. He doesn't let the shock stop him from melting into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him. The taste of your lip gloss is seeping into his mouth as you nip at his lip ring, his hand moving the dining chairs out of the way to push you against the table. He lets you slip your tongue into his mouth as your hands move to fist his black hoodie, his own moving to your hips to lift you onto the table.

He settles between your legs, feeling your confidence grow hotter as you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. He can't help but groan softly into your mouth as one of your hands slides under his hoodie, the feeling of your skin against his bare torso almost enough to make him lose his mind. He pulls back slightly, your lips chasing after his as he shakes his head, resting his forehead against yours. Your eyes are shy as you look up at him, your hand beneath his sweater moving to toy with the belt loops on his black jeans. You can't hold eye contact for the first time since he's known you, clearing your throat as you look away.

"Sorry." You murmur, and he gently holds your jaw in his fingers, moving your head back to face him.

"Yeah? Sorry?" His lips brush over yours, and he feels your breath hitch in your chest as you resist the urge to connect your lips. "Sorry for what?" "If you're going to kiss me, you should just do it. I'm not going to object." You rush out, and he can't help but smile against your lips, earning a whine from your throat. "Jungwon!" "I'm right here, pretty. Not going anywhere." He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, before mumbling against them. "I like you a lot, Y/N." "I like you, too, Won. I've liked you for so long." 

He can feel your face grow warm under his fingertips, pressing another kiss to your lips. "How long?" "Three years." You murmur softly, and he can feel your lips jut into a pout against his as he smiles. "Why are you smiling!? As far as I know, you like me, too!" "Just because we're idiots." He shakes his head, pressing his lips to yours once, twice, three times. "So stupid, I should've kissed you then. Could've been mine ages ago."

He feels your thighs tighten around his hips, "Can be yours now, Won." "Yeah? Want to?" He runs his thumb over your lip, pressing down on it slightly as your eyes look up at him. You nod silently, making him sigh exaggeratedly. "Need words, pretty." "Wanna be yours." You're pouting, before your eyes widen and you pull back, poking a finger in his chest. "Not today, though, birthday and anniversary hybrids are tacky."  He rolls his eyes, resting his hands on the tops of your thighs. "Then, when?" "Before Valentine's Day, but after today. Tomorrow, even. I'll even allow midnight." You're trying hard to put on a serious face, your finger still pointed at his chest. He glances down at your watch, clicking his tongue.

"That's not for another nine hours, pretty." He taps the face of it, and you frown as you look down at it. 

"Okay yeah, but we have to go spend your birthday with your friends anyway." "I would honestly prefer to just spend it with you." "Jungwon." You roll your eyes as he plants a kiss on your cheek, before peppering his lips all over your face. "Jungwon!" "Nine hours is too long." He mumbles against your skin, feeling your hands tug at his hoodie. "I have all of Valentine's Day weekend off because Jaehee was late today. We can spend it together and do whatever you want to make up for these nine long, grueling hours of agony, my poor baby." You add a flair of sarcasm to your voice, but Jungwon doesn't care as he squeezes your thighs gently.

"Whatever I want?" He raises a brow, scanning your face as you roll your eyes.

"You're a pervert." "You like me." "I do, unfortunately." You sigh, pressing your lips into a firm line as you nod reluctantly. "Now get your hands off me and let's go. Your friends are going to be wondering where you are." "Are you sure I can't convince you to just stay here and kiss me until we die?" He grumbles, tracing circles into your thighs as you sigh, leaning back on your hands. "I'll make you a deal. I'll stay over at yours tonight instead. I don't have class tomorrow." You offer, and he glances up at you through his lashes. He holds out his pinky finger, seeing you bite back a smile as you link yours. "Alright." He tucks the box of candy under his arm as you hop off the table, smoothing your sweater and grabbing your keys. He confidently interlaces your fingers, pulling you through the complex and into the parking garage, and doesn't let go until he has to get into his seat. He watches you pull your lip gloss from your pocket and reapply it in his car mirror, Raspberry Swirl in big, pink font across the tube. He allows the teasing from his friends as he leads you into his decorated apartment by hand, your smile shy as he introduces you to everyone one by one. He allows the teasing as you gather around him with his friends to sing Happy Birthday, and he pouts when icing is smeared on his face by multiple hands – only to feel your lips against his the moment his friends slink out of the dining room to flop on the couch with their slices of cake. He allows the teasing as Sunghoon and Riki walk into the kitchen and see you wiping his face with a damp rag, his blushing cheeks hidden by your hands as you defend him.

He doesn't care about the comments his friends make under their breath when he pulls you into his lap during the movies they put on. He doesn't care when they mutter about him being whipped when he allows you to curl up in his embrace, your face buried in his neck as he traces circles into your hip. He doesn't care when they giggle at him as you whisper in his ear about whatever is going on in the movie, because he's not even watching – instead, focused on the incredible feeling of you so close to him.

He can't lie to himself, he tries to take his time opening the gifts after the films, asking questions and acting interested. He is interested, but his eyes keep flicking back to you sitting in the corner behind his gaggle of friends, just watching him with a fond smile and the same shimmer in your eyes that you have when you follow him around the shop. You actively engage his friends, answering their questions and playing into their jokes as he finishes the haul of gifts in front of him.

He rushes the goodbyes. He hugs his friends tightly for the first time in ages, thanking them for taking time out of their schedules and lives to spend his birthday with him. He feels his body fill with impatience as they take their time saying their goodbyes to you – but he feels it all slip away when Jake and Sunoo give him a knowing look, offering to clean up and that he should go ahead and walk you home, if he'd like.

He doesn't care about what their eyes say when he gently pulls you into his room, kissing you against the door. He holds himself back as you make it a point to move the two of you towards his bed, asking if you want to get into something more comfortable. His mind runs as you pull on a pair of his pajama pants, your top half covered by one of his old band shirts before you slide back into his bed with him, your thighs settled on either side of him as his fingers hold your hips flush to his. He lets you kiss him, bunching his shirt in your fists as his fingers breach the hem of your shirt, your skin warm to the touch.

He couldn't ask for anything better, even as he checks the clock and it reads ten minutes to midnight.

MONDAY, 12:00AM.

"Be my girlfriend."

"I don't even have a shirt on, Jungwon. You couldn't wait?" "No. Be my girlfriend, please. We can go on a date later."

You roll your eyes, "Okay, fine. I'll be your girlfriend."

"At least act like you like me, will you?" He scoffs, his teeth nipping at your belly. You jolt, swatting the top of his head with a scowl.

"I do like you! I'm literally your girlfriend!" You huff, and he can't help but smile into your skin, before moving back up to hover over you. He moves your hair off your face, before holding your chin in his fingers with a soft smile. "Stop looking at me like you want to eat me." "I can just eat you, instead." He presses a kiss to your lips, your arms moving to wrap loosely around his neck. He allows it, deepening the kiss and snaking his hand down to the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling the drawstring undone in one go. "Is that okay?" "Hurry up, boyfriend."

VALENTINE'S DAY, 4:32PM.

"Why baby blue?" You look up from your desk, seeing your boyfriend toying with a baby blue piece of ribbon from the shop. You'd stopped by the shop earlier that day because your father told you Jaehee was going to be late, and you went for an hour while she arrived. You'd brought Jungwon a bag of chocolate almonds and a singular piece of raspberry swirl bubblegum, one that he was blowing into a bubble now.

"Hm?" "The ribbon, babe. You never let me pick, you just use this color. Why?" You set your pen down, pursing your lips as you turn in your chair. He's got his textbooks laid out on the floor, sitting back on his hands as he looks up at you expectantly. You sigh, tapping your foot as you run a hand through your hair. "You came into the shop after you got your lip pierced during freshman year, and you got a bag of nothing but caramel apple suckers. You were wearing this baby blue sweater that said Girls Don't Cry in red thread across the front, and you were wearing that same sweater the first time we met. The color just reminds me of you, and I love that sweater on you." You shrug, watching as your boyfriend tongues the silver ring in his lip.

"You've never told me if you like it or not." He says pointedly, touching it lightly with his forefinger. You lean forward in your chair, your fingers gripping the edge of it as you smile.

"There's a lot of things I like about you, Won. I can definitely show you better than I can tell you, though." You wink, making his cheeks flush lightly. He doesn't respond, opting to look back down at his textbooks until you reach down and close one of them. He gapes up at you, but can't find the words to say anything as you slip off the chair, closing all of them one by one as you get closer to him. You push his knees down, opting to straddle him, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips.

"We need to study." He reminds you quietly, watching your face as you run your hands through his hair.

"Remember I said we could do whatever you want this weekend?" "...I feel like this is a trap." You laugh, pressing a soft kiss to his hairline. "No trap. Do you want to study?"

He sighs, plucking the hem of your shirt out from where it's tucked into your pants. He rests his forehead on your collarbone, groaning into your chest. "Y/N, I need to study."

"We can study later, baby." "But I'm a pervert, huh?" He scoffs, and you hold back your laughter in an attempt to seem upset.

"Fine. I'll just go back to ignoring you at my desk." 

You move to get off his lap, but he shakes his head, holding onto the hem of your shirt. "No need for all that, angel. Just get this off for me." "Pervert." "Oh, come on!"

BABEYUN © 2025. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[lady-pug]

Lipstick Stamps

Summary: Bob doesn’t seem to think himself deserving of good things, such as a relationship, and you make it your personal mission to prove him wrong, one kiss at a time

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Word count: 3,4k

Warnings: self-esteem issues and feelings of unworthiness (on Bob's part); spoilers about the ending of Thunderbolts*

Notes: Hey people! I’m back, and this time writing for a new fandom! I’ve been an avid Marvel fan since I was a kid actually I’ve just never gotten around to writing for it before. BUT I watched Thunderbolts* and I, while I thought it would feed into my crush on Bucky and Yelena, I actually ended up falling in love with Bob. I think he deserves all the love in the world and decided to take matters into my own hands. I intend to write more for Bob and also for Bucky (I have a few ideas already) and maybe Yelena.

Thanks @fruityvampslayer for the prompt (also, requests are open, you can send requests and prompts anytime, it is greatly appreciated)!

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it. If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

There are no physical descriptions of the reader other than wearing makeup, and it can be read as any gender. Also, when describing the formal attire I tried to keep descriptions to a minimum so you can imagine what the reader is wearing.

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Bob had no idea how he ended up in this situation. He didn’t know what he did to even deserve to be in this situation at all. 

No, actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly how he ended up in this situation.

The day at the Watchtower had started out like any other: breakfast early in the morning with you and Alexei, the older man having a hard time keeping his voice at an ‘indoors’ level, as usual. Then a run around the block with Bucky even though Bob hated running as the supersoldier insisted he needed to stay active and in shape. After training with Bucky and Ava, followed by lunch with the whole team prepared by you and Alexei, Bob took a couple of hours to himself, reading a book you had recommended in his room. 

During the first few months living in the tower he would often isolate himself in his new room, away from everyone. It was safe, it was known to him. But then, little by little, he started opening up, first to you and Yelena, then to the rest of the team. Now, where first he would lock himself up in his room, he would make an effort to spend more time with each of his teammates, his friends. He would still retire to his room throughout the day, he did enjoy his alone time after all, but instead of locking his door and half dreading, half hoping someone would come looking for him, he would now leave his door slightly ajar, inviting anyone in should they search for him. Most of the time he hoped it would be you.

But then, just as he was about to start preparing everything for his biweekly afternoon tea with you, Yelena and, surprisingly, John, Valentina had come in a rush, her heels clicking against the floor as she gave instructions to Mel about dresses and ties, and called for an emergency meeting.

“What is this all about?” Yelena asked, her arms crossed and annoyance written all over her face.

“Well, the New Avengers have a gala with the investors tonight.” Valentina shrugged, all while Mel still typed away on her phone. 

Everyone but Alexei groaned, while Bob fiddled his thumbs nervously. 

“Again?” Bucky asked, exasperated.

“What, do you have something better to do on a Tuesday night?” Valentina mocked.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” you answered curtly “It’s movie night.”

Movie night. It started out in the first weeks of everyone living in the Watchtower. You had asked Bob if he wanted to watch a movie with you. Your explanation had been that it was this new horror movie that had just been released, and that you were normally too much of a scaredy-cat to watch it on your own. You were so full of shit and Bob could see right through it, he knew it was just an excuse to get him to join you. And yet he did it anyway. He had been right, as you ended up watching ‘The Lion King 2’ instead of whatever horror flick you had been planning (that is if you hadn’t lied about that as well). The following week you had invited him again, and the next, and on the week after that Yelena asked if she could join. Then Alexei. After a while it became a tradition between the whole team to watch a movie while eating pizza on Tuesday nights. 

“Oh, how cute.” Valentina mocked before turning serious once more “It’s non negotiable.”

Everyone started grumbling once more before she cut it off.

“Who do you think pays for all of this?” she gestured around “The maintenance of this place? The equipment you use on your missions? It certainly doesn’t all come from government grants, right Congressmen Barnes?”

Bucky, although still annoyed, looked away sheepishly, as Alexei tried hyping everyone up.

“Come on, it will be fun night!” he practically shouted, much to Yelena’s dismay. 

At the end of the day they couldn’t argue with Valentina, especially not after Mel casually mentioned it was an open bar and had free food. 

Bob was a little bummed at the change of plans but resigned himself to watching ‘Revenge Of The Sith' alone. Just as he was about to leave the briefing room, his head hung, he felt something tugging on his sleeve.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you asked, the corner of your lips turning up in a small smirk.

“I-I mean, you guys have to go get ready and all.” he shrugged “I don’t want to get in the way.”

Your smile softened, your fingers trailing down his arm and wrapping around his own. 

“You never get in the way, Bob.” 

His own lips betrayed him, for he smiled bashfully at you, looking at the floor. 

“Why don’t you come with us tonight?” you asked, hopefully. At least Bob hoped you sounded hopeful. God, he was so pathetic. 

“I don’t-” he cleared his throat “I mean, I don’t know.”

He knew he wasn’t like the rest of you. He wasn’t a supersoldier, like Bucky, Alexei and John, or could phase through walls like you and Ava. Hells, he could barely throw a punch like Yelena, and he couldn’t even use his powers without risking wiping out half the city. Not until he could get him under control.

“Come on, you heard Alexei, it will be fun!” you playfully elbowed him on the ribs “Besides you’d be saving me from a huge headache. Do you think I want to spend yet another evening rubbing elbows with a bunch of rich old men? Let the Congressmen do the talking this time.”

He tried, he really tried. It wasn’t really his scene anway. But he couldn’t say no to you. Not when you batted your eyelashes at him like that, soft yet cheeky grin on your lips, one hip cocked to the side oh so prettily-

Okay, he quickly shut down that line of thought before he said anything stupid.

But the way your face lit up when he eventually agreed was worth the few hours of him being stuffed in the uncomfortable suit you had requested Mel find for him last minute. 

By the time he was ready to go he was feeling kind of anxious, waiting, hoping for you to show up, second guessing your invitation all together. But when you did show up…

You looked… breathtaking was the only word he could use to describe you. Your hair looked fancily put together, and your elegant outfit was so form fitting he had to stop himself from downright ogling at you. And the way that red lipstick suited you, he couldn’t keep his eyes off your mouth. Not in a creepy way, of course. He hoped.

“Don’t you clean up nicely!” you mentioned as you stopped in front of him, fixing up his crooked tie.

He smiled. You always made him feel so safe, so normal. 

“You’re one to talk.” he tried joking back to you, but to his own ears he sounded so lame. But it worked, at least to some degree, for you averted your gaze, a small bashful smile spreading across your face.

“So, are you ready to go?” you asked after a moment.

“Yeah.” he nodded, but it was a lie. He was anything but ready. He was so nervous. 

And yet… he actually found himself having fun! You stuck by his side the whole night, even after he said you didn’t have to refrain from having a good time for his sake.

“Has it ever occurred to you, Bob, sweetheart,” you smiled, gently “that I actually like spending time with you?”

He couldn’t help the way his cheeks flushed at your words, his heart beating so fast in his chest. He didn’t dare question you again.

At one point in the night, though, some soft, slow music started playing on the speakers and it was like all attendees and their plus ones started flocking to the dancefloor. 

After a few beats of you both staring at the people dancing he glanced at you, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Don’t you wanna go dance with someone?” he asked, and for a moment he could swear your face lit up in a hopeful expression before you quickly schooled it back to your neutral look.

“Nah, I’m good. I have two left feet, if you know what I mean.” you chuckled, and he laughed along with you. 

He glanced longingly at the dancefloor, all of them couples having fun together. 

“What’s on your mind?” he startled, not expecting to find you staring at him still.

“How nice it must be.” he mumbled after a beat “To have someone.”

It was your turn to stare at all the people before turning back to him.

“Yeah, I guess so.” you smiled softly at him, but it felt… off. There was a downturn to your lip that almost resembled a frown “You’ll find someone one day, Bob, I’m sure you will.”

He shook his head, a sad smile growing on his face.

“I’m not sure that’s on the cards for me.”

Your face fell in confusion. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, almost as if you were personally insulted by this.

“I mean, I don’t think I deserve something like that, you know. Not after everything.” he sighed, shoulders dropping “And besides who could possibly want someone like-”

He could see the exact moment your face hardened as you took a step towards him, cutting him off mid sentence.

“Someone like what?” you asked, voice low and, dare he say, menacing.

Now he was afraid to say it. You looked mad, and the last thing he had wanted was to upset you. But in Bob’s eyes it was true. He was a loser, he couldn’t even help the team properly as of yet, and he had almost killed everyone including you. He couldn’t possibly fathom how anyone, much less someone as cool and kind and badass like you, could be into him.

“Someone like, you know, me.” he confessed.

And that’s how he ended up here.

Your back had straightened, face cold and unreadable as you reached for his hand and yanked him after you. He started mumbling apology after apology, stuttering profusely as he tried to make sense of where you were going.

As it turned out you pulled him away from the dancefloor and out of the building completely, ditching the rest of the team as you quickly hauled a cab.

“Get in.” you said, a sudden yet gentle tug for him to get in the backseat after you.

Your hand didn’t let go of his hand until you were both out of the car and inside the Watchtower. You dragged him all the way to the residential level, only letting go so you could make a quick stop in your room to grab something he couldn’t quite figure out before you were leading him to his own room. He had half a mind to push the door closed behind him once you both entered, still uneasy about having made you angry even though he didn’t quite know what he did wrong.

“I-I’m so sorry, I-”

You didn’t let him finish, swiftly heading to his bathroom with a short “make yourself comfortable” thrown over your shoulder.

His mind was reeling. What had just happened? He pondered over the events of the evening, trying to sort them out in his head as he toed off his loafers. One moment you two were fine, joking around with one another and then… 

He ruined everything, a nagging voice spoke from deep within his mind as he  removed his blazer and carefully folded it. He made you angry, forcing you to abandon the gala and bring him to the tower, now you were going to leave him here, and go back there and finally have the fun night you had been promised and…

Just as he was just loosening his tie and popping the collar button open you stormed back in, and before he could get even a word out you lightly shoved him backwards by the shoulders.

“Listen here, Bob.” your voice was low, raspy even. While your makeup was still untouched you had changed into an oversized, comfy looking band tee, and had he not been mortified over having put his foot in his mouth he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from you now exposed thighs “I won’t stand by and listen to you talk like that about yourself. I won’t accept it, I won’t allow it.”

Your last words were punctuated by a firm shove, making the back of his knees hit the mattress. He tripped over his own feet, falling on his butt on the bed.

“B-But it’s true.” 

A sigh of disappointment left your lips and he wanted to look away, hide in his own shame, but before he could even react you were climbing onto his lap, both legs extended on each side of his torso and hands placed carefully on his shoulders.

“No it isn’t, Bob.” both your face and your tone softened, your hands travelling up to cup his cheeks gently yet firmly, forcing him to keep his eyes on you “I just wish you could see yourself the way I see you, love.”

Somewhere along the way his heart had practically stopped beating altogether. He didn’t know if it was your words or the position you found yourselves in but something made his breath hitch in his chest. Had you not been looking at him so reverently, like he hung all the stars in the sky, he was positive you’d have laughed at him, both his hands up like he was being held at gunpoint, not knowing where to place them, and a deep blush dusting his cheeks.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you.” you smiled softly then, and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

He smiled back at you, but it didn’t match your own. No, his smile was sad, almost like he was pitying you.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” he whispered, not only to you but to himself.

Your eyes shifted, determination shining in them, but it wasn’t hard like before, it was warm and resolute. Then, without looking away from him, you slowly touched your forehead against his. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to convince you otherwise, if you let me.” you spoke softly, your breath fanning against his lips “Tell me to stop, tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk out that door and we can pretend this never happened.”

His entire body was trembling with restraint. 

“I don’t deserve it.” he rasped out, scared “I don’t deserve you.”

Once his words registered in your mind you couldn’t hold back any longer, pulling his face towards you. But where he thought your lips would settle over his own, he felt you place a delicate kiss on his right cheek. 

“That’s not true, love.” you whispered against his skin.

He wanted to. God, did he want to. But he shook his head, feeling a knot in his throat.

“I don’t know how.” he whimpered.

Ever so slowly you moved to his other cheek, placing yet another warm kiss on his skin.

“Neither do I, to be honest. We’ll learn together.”

His hands settled on your waist then, some of the resistance leaving him. You took this as a sign to keep going and, with a soft pull on his jaw, bowed his head so you could place a peck on his forehead, and another one on the tip of his nose.

“Let me show you how much you mean to me.” 

Something in him snapped. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he searched your own, for what he wasn’t sure. A sign that you were lying? You wouldn’t. Reassurance? Perhaps. But he just knew that whatever it is you were offering him, you meant it.

“Please.” he whispered in a broken whine.

All you needed was a single word to unleash all you had been holding back, tightening your hold on his face and moving his head to your liking. Your lips were everywhere, on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his chin, his neck, his ears, his temple, his jaw, even his own lips. Anywhere you could reach, gone were the featherlight kisses from before, replaced with fierce yet gentle ones, with enough pressure to leave his skin tingling. It was like you were trying to kiss every bad thought and insecurity out of his system. He knew that you knew it didn’t work like that, but damn if you weren’t going to try.

He felt like he was melting, right then and there on his own bed, his head airy and light and, for once in his life, quiet. His limbs felt heavy, his grip tightening ever so slightly on your waist, hands slipping down to your hips.

Your words weren’t helping his case either. After every caress of your lips on his skin you’d say something that left his heart soaring. 

“You are so strong, love. So brave.” he didn’t believe that most days, but the way you said it made him just the tiniest bit inclined to agree.

“You’re such a handsome man. A pretty, pretty boy.” he knew he didn’t hold a candle to the likes of Bucky, but if you were saying it there must be some truth behind it, right?

“So warm. And solid and real. You’re real, Bob.” he didn’t quite know what to make of that but coming from you it must be a compliment.

He didn’t want it to end. Perhaps the world, his world, could be summed up to this moment, right here. He never wanted to leave his room if it meant having you, like this, being in your hold and under your spell forever. Now that he finally had this he didn’t want to let it go. But, he guessed, all good things must come to an end. 

“So this is where you kids ran off to!” Alexei’s booming voice sounded from the corridor, startling Bob and making you sigh in annoyance.  

The door. In his haste earlier Bob had completely forgotten to close his bedroom door. And now, all the other Thunderbolts were standing in the doorway looking several different degrees of smug.

“Come on guys, let’s leave the lovebirds alone.” Yelena ushered them, not before throwing a wink at Bob, much to his embarrassment. 

Just as the last of them disappeared down the hallway and Bob’s shoulders finally relaxed, Walker backtracked and poked his head back on the doorway.

“Oh, by the way, you have something on your face, Bob.” he said, making a circular motion all over his face “Right around here.”

“What?!” Bob squeaked, practically throwing you on the bed as he rushed to the bathroom. There, in the mirror, was his own reflection staring back at him, his entire face and neck covered in red lipstick marks, all in the exact shape of your lips. 

“Oh, come on!” he saw you in the mirror running to the door of his bedroom and peering out into the hallway before shouting “Yelena! You promised me this one was transfer proof!”

Bob should be mortified. Don’t get me wrong, he definitely was. But he was also… happy. Overjoyed, in fact. So much so he started giggling in front of the mirror, both from your antics and from his appearance. His giggles turned into hearty chuckles and then into full blown laughter, his whole body shaking from the force of it. You came to check up on him, a small embarrassed smile of your own stretching across your lips, which he noticed were still painted in a now smudged shade of red.

“What’s so funny, huh, mister?” you asked playfully, to which he couldn’t resist holding your chin in his fingers, his thumb rubbing a smear of lipstick from the corner of your mouth and placing a kiss of his own on your lips.

“Thank you.” he breathed it once he pulled away.

You shrugged, holding onto his wrist to keep him from pulling away entirely. 

“You deserve it, Bob.”

It was still hard to hear. It made something itch inside him, like it was bubbling to come out and deny it, destroying this little bit of happiness he had forged for himself. He knew it would take a while, a long while, until he actually believed it, and that there would be days when it would be harder to believe you than others, but maybe, just maybe, this could be a start.

“Yeah.” he grinned, feeling like he probably looked like a lovesick puppy “Maybe I do.”

[briarpatch-kids]

Something I don't think many people who don't have complex rehab powerchairs realize is that the cripple tax for us is so much higher.

I'm going to preface this with the statement that if you have a CRT powerchair, it's generally because you will literally die without one. There really is no "suffering without" if you don't have one, insurance or government schemes will not pay for it if you won't literally die without. Pretty often with "some people NEED wheelchairs and can't get by without them" type posts, the tags are filled with "i need this but just get by without" so I wanted to make sure people understand under no uncertain circumstances that people die waiting for approval of these and there is no getting by without if you have one. Some people do need them and get by without, but they are in the "this would vastly improve my life" need category rather than the "I will either get this or die" need category.

Anyways, once you're in the complex rehab category of disabled, the price of being disabled goes up by a MASSIVE amount. I am just barely in the complex rehab category, and my powerchair costs $23,000. This doesn't include the seat cushion or positioning equipment which likely adds another $1,000 minimum. It also doesn't include maintainance (last year mine was over $1,000 in parts cost before labor) Back when my needs were only a custom ultralight wheelchair with the basic seating options, I paid $3,500 for it so you get some context in how much the price SKYROCKETS once you get complex. Off the rack "standard" wheelchairs start at around $250.

My ventilator costs $500 a month in rental for just the box, you cannot buy one only rent. This doesn't include monthly checks, or all the tubes and masks and parts I need, I'd be willing to bet that adds on another couple hundred bucks.

My shower chair? It's a specialized one because I can't use the usual ones and that costs $2,000.

Additionally, because I need a caregiver, that adds another $1,800 a month to my price of living. I am in a special cost saving program that pays my spouse to do my bathing, dressing, and toileting so that would be higher for anyone else as well. This is not for 24 hour care, it's for bathing, dressing, and toileting.

My wheelchair van that I need in order to go anywhere beyond a mile from my house (like the doctors office) and was bought used at an age old enough to vote, that we were given a special discount and tax breaks for, cost us $7,500. If you don't get an ancient shitbox (said with love) like we have, they're around $65,000.

The bathroom remodel we had to do so I could pee and get showered was $17,000 and did not include anything high end, it was the cheapest we could do that met my needs.

The wheelchair ramp was $15,000 before labor to set it up.

None of these costs were optional, they weren't "improve my life" types of costs, they are "this is the minimum I need to live" costs. I know people who have even higher minimum costs to live, I'm pretty low on the "complex rehab" disability scale.

Tl;Dr whatever you think the highest cripple tax costs are for severely disabled people, quadruple them.

[kuroosamuu]

megumi x reader | warnings: making out | wc: 687

—

you and megumi decided to keep your relationship a secret. for reasons quite obvious to the two of you, for the current predicament you find yourselves in being one of the main ones.

with the two to of you both being students at jujutsu high, you're with each other more often than not. because of this, you two try to keep your feelings for each other at a minimum and keep anything away to the nosy people around you who would love to tease you about your relationship.

and megumi feels strongly about preventing that from ever happening.

well, that didn't last that long.

It was currently 1am, everyone was sleeping, and you were on your way to megumi's room.

you two did this often, finding the only moment of privacy with one another being in the middle of the night, where no one could interrupt the time you spend together. this was your time to be able to talk to him freely, without worrying about someone else interrupting your conversation or saying something about you two being a bit too close.

so, when you arrive and softly knocked on the door, you felt the relief you always feel when he opens the door, and allow yourself to throw your arms around him.

"missed you."

"you saw me today."

you pull away, pouting at him, "you know what I mean."

"I know, missed you too," he leans down and gives you a quick peck, before you two make your way to his bed to cuddle.

a daily routine at this point.

you lay with your head on his chest, his arm secured around you as you two talk mindlessly about anything and everything.

you end up perching your chin on his chest to look up at him, and before you know it, you lips are on his.

It starts off slow, gentle even, like every other kiss you two share. soon, you place your palm on his chest for leverage as you lift yourself up more in order to deepen the kiss.

megumi sits up slightly, bringing his back to rest on the headboard behind him as your lips move in sync, slowly deepening with each kiss.

you allow your hand that was previously situated on his chest to wander up and over his shoulder, as he takes one hand and place it on your waist.

he brings his other hand to the other side of your waist and moves you to straddle his lap properly now.

the kiss deepens in his new position, allowing yourself to hook your arms around his neck, while his one hand stays on your waist, the other slowly moving up and down your back.

all that is consuming your mind and body is megumi and you don't think of anything else, mind completely taken over by the feeling of his lips against yours.

and he is in the exact same way, hence the reason neither of you heard the door to megumi's room creak open.

and you didn't stop until you hear the crash of something hitting the floor.

you gasp as you part from megumi, throwing yourself off of him as fast as humanly possible and creating as much distance between you two as you could on his small bed.

you turn to look at the source of the sound to see yuji standing at megumi's doorway, whatever in his hand now on the floor, along with his jaw wide open.

the awkward silence between you three lasts for what feels like forever, before megumi finally speaks up.

"don't you know how to knock? what are you doing here."

"I did knock! you didn't reply so I just let myself in..." yuji replies looking between you and megumi, "maybe I shouldn't have..."

"It's not what it looks like," you try to explain weakly.

"I'll just leave you two alone."

yuji runs out of the room, and you look at megumi, the two of you knowing you're going to hear an earful tomorrow from both nobara and gojo, who yuji is definitely telling right now.

so much for keeping your relationship a secret.

—

[pyract0]

Random thoughts with MHA men!

☁︎Lowkey just a heap of stupid ideas I had for different characters I thought were funny/ cute. Might extend on a few of these into longer fics if I find the time :) ☁︎Going back to finishing some requests after this! Sometimes read and can't process what I just read so might take a while to finish them all! Feel free to request but might be a bit slow at the moment, but I'll get through them when I can! ☁︎Not really any warnings other than swearing (Tried to keep it to a minimum but habit when I can't think of a fitting word)! Gn/ unspecified reader :))

╰┈➤ Katsuki Bakugo who follows a strict routine he set for himself to get the most out of the day, in bed by exactly 8:30. Yet he coincidently always happens to be awake when you try to sneak in and cuddle under the covers with him. Gets annoyed at you for "interfering" with his schedule, but he never lets himself fall asleep if he knows your planning to visit, even if at ridiculous hours of the night. ╰┈➤ Shoto Todoroki who lacks certain aspects of understanding when it comes to social cues, specifically the idea of personal space after you start dating. Will stand behind you breathing down your neck just wanting to be near you, not realising how odd it appears to anyone passing by. Similarly, will practically sit ON you instead of beside you, squeezing between you and anyone/anything so he can sit right beside you.

╰┈➤ Izuku Midoriya who often forgets or simply doesn't realise when his habit of rambling starts, sometimes scaring the shit out of you when he suddenly breaks the silence. Will need you to sometimes cover his mouth when out in public before he says something that would accidently make any sane person uncomfortable. Talked about murder out of context at least a few times and got y'all kicked out of somewhere </3

╰┈➤ Tenya Iida who understands the concept of money and it's overall value, but frankly doesn't care when it comes to you. Buys you awfully expensive items that reminds him of you/ thinks you'll like, hiding just how much he actually spent so you don't reject it (you know, you just don't have the heart to tell him.) Will gift you like it's only something small and beat himself up for not getting you something better (It cost more than what you make in 3 months). Prides himself on responsibility but it all falls out the window when about his decisions around you.

╰┈➤ Eijiro Kirishima who shows you off like some sort of deity, constantly praising anything and everything you do. Accidently degrades himself while praising you, saying how he doesn't deserve you (he's literally an angel :(( ). Will do anything for you, if you ask him or not, choosing to show just how much he loves you through his actions not just words. Tells you he loves you at least 5 times a day <3

╰┈➤ Neito Monoma who respects you even if you're in class 1a, never speaking poorly of you even when shitting on your class. Stops whenever you're nearby and starts acting all sweet like he wasn't badmouthing each of your classmates to their faces minutes prior. Another one who worships your every movement and the ground you walk on, but instead of degrading himself puts everyone else but the both of you down. (My favourite little menace)

╰┈➤ Hitoshi Shinsou who without fail whenever you're alone hands you some random ass cat inspired thing that reminded him of you. First it was a small succulent pot, next some really doped out looking cat plushie, then a little keychain of a black cat with a witches hat.. it just kept going. Gets you wondering how he manages to keep finding these objects, and how he always manages to have one when you see each other unplanned (He has a little hidden pocket where he stores the little strange trinkets) ╰┈➤ Rody Soul who sometimes activates his quirk, summoning Pino, at the most random hours of night. Will get woken up by your sudden screams, thinking you had a nightmare only for it to have been Pino scaring the shit out of you by sitting on your chest in the middle of the night and scrutinizing your very being (lovingly). Has been forced as a result to spend the next day begging for forgiveness for Pino's actions (He had a dream of you and she was just admiring you with the same level of affection as him, just hers a bit more creepy..)

╰┈➤ Mirio togata who even after years of practice with his quirk, happens to forget what activating it in normal clothes does. Has tried to phase through the ground to surprise you with his sudden appearance just to end up flashing you, both of you now sitting in embarrassment while your struggling to breathe through your laughter. Apologises before joining you in going along with your everyday life (It will happen again)

╰┈➤ Tamaki Amajiki who uses you as a form of protection, not from physical danger but from people trying to communicate with you both. Will hold your hand in his and stand right against your back, head often against yours or on your shoulder while he lets you talk for him as well as yourself. As soon as you finish, will drag you away to a more secluded area and embrace you with more confidence as a way of showing his appreciation for never complaining about his shying away from socialising.

╰┈➤ Giulio Gandini who chooses to not wear his eyepatch when you're both alone, trusting you in his most vulnerable form. Who is able to use his robotic eye as a camera, recording your interactions to preserve the memory. Often pulls up these moments on the screen of his prosthetic arm when you're apart, watching through them when he misses you. Moves certain ones to a USB and prints out photos to give you (some in lockets, some just as a copy to frame) leaving you confused on how he managed to get them. (I love him so much :(( lowkey the main reason I liked the 4th movie sm)

╰┈➤ Touya Todoroki/ Dabi who will only let you help when it comes to dyeing his hair (aka forces you when the black is washing out to help fix it up). Will sit on a random chair he dragged in or the edge of the bathtub while you touch up his roots, probably moves constantly unless you hold his head in place. Gets you to join him in the shower to help wash through it, being a little shit about it and smudging the dye on you so it'll stain.

╰┈➤ Tomura Shigaraki who refuses to touch you with all 5 of his fingers, even after he's confident in his abilities to control his quirk. Will always have a finger lifted from your body while he holds you in his embrace, wearing artist gloves when sleeping beside you just to be safe. Holds your hand constantly when alone like the touch starved person he is but never has a proper grasp, loosely intertwining your fingers while he leaves his pinkie away from your hand.

╰┈➤ Shota Aizawa who similar to his son has a habit of handing you random stuff when he returns home, though his are more concerning. If you had a nickel for every time he came home to hand you a kitten he found in an alley, you would have two but it was very strange it happened twice. Came home after his long shift one night and handed you a cat like it was just another causal Wednesday. So anyways you guys have 2 cats now :))

╰┈➤ Keigo Takami who likes to use his feathers to tickle you at the least expected times, often resulting in a fresh bruise the next day. Will each and every time forget you like to swing when his feathers are tickling at your sides, with your first or leg accidently colliding with some part of his body. One time was his face, another his calf, or the time you accidently hit him where the sun don't shine. He learnt to move back after that one..

[bonniepop]

kuroo often likes to make noise as he goes about your home, especially in the morning. he yawns really loud, bumps into things on the way to the bathroom in his still-sleepy stupor, and even grunts to wake himself up. his telltale giveaway is his sniffling, the rhinitis he gets in the morning a daily hurdle.

it seems like the typical saturday morning, or well, it would be, if you heard even the slightest bit of sniffling.

but now it’s quiet.

too quiet.

you complete your morning ritual of making breakfast with caution, carefully sliding the eggs you just cooked unto a plate, but a smile plays on your lips. if you knew your husband—and you did, very well—then he was up to something.

still, you flinch when music explodes.

“EVERYBODY DANCE NOW!”

you swivel your head and find your husband in the kitchen entryway, chopping his arms to each music note that blasts from the speakers. his face is serious when the rhythm hits, and with his legs spread and bent at the knee, he hops towards you in time with the beat.

you tilt your head back and cackle, the image of your husband looking like a complete and utter fool making tears come to your eyes.

he stops in front of you and continues to dance—you use that term loosely—and you join in, both of you laughing as you goofily dance in your kitchen together.

he grabs you by the hand and pulls you to the living room, where you find your toddler swaying his hips side to side in time with the beat.

kuroo hollers and follows suit, and soon all three of you are laughing and swinging your hips. when the song ends and another, a mellower one, starts, your husband laughs and picks up his son, gingerly throwing him up in the air before catching him again.

“good morning,” he grins at your child.

“papa!” your baby squeals, and kuroo cackles his signature cackle.

he secures his son in his arms before reaching over to take you by the waist and pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “good morning,” he greets you.

“good morning,” you return, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “weekend start off well?”

his grin is unshakeable. “always. i love weekends. it’s when i get to hang out with my favorite people in the world.”

“how sweet.” you kiss his cheek again before unwrapping his arm from around you and taking his hand, leading him to the kitchen. “you hungry?”

he looks to your son. “you hungry, kid?”

your son babbles happily. kuroo blows a raspberry on his chubby arm and he squeals.

you smile, affection blooming within you. you leave your husband to strap your son in to his chair and you arrange the table. you wash your hands before taking a deep breath.

you turn and lean back on the edge of the sink, training your eyes on him, on his loving smile, on his eyes on his son, on your son’s squealing.

“i want,” you start, then bite your lip.

“hm?” he looks up at you.

you swallow and smile. “i think i want another baby.”

he freezes, then bolts out of his chair. he walks toward you with purpose, and soon you’re looking up at him as he stares you down.

“are you serious?” he says, completely attentive.

you bite your lip again. kuroo always wanted a big family. it was something he never got to have as a child, and volleyball helped him build that. but still, he wanted his own.

when you were getting serious, he’d first declared he wanted a minimum of six kids; “a whole starting team!” he’d said at first, then tried to placate you several times when he saw the horror on your face. since then, he’d never made that joke again, but he was adamant on having kids. his non-negotiable.

when the first one came, he was every bit the doting father you thought he’d be. always present, always ready to help, even going further than any expectation you’ve ever held for him. it floored you, how good he was at it. it was still early—but something told you he wouldn’t disappoint when it came to fatherhood.

and there was something about that that just… made you want to make him happy.

you wanted to give him children.

you look up at him and smile. “yes.”

he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “thank you,” he whispers into your ear, meaning every word.

tears prick at your eyes and you laugh. what a funny way to respond to it, but it was so kuroo that it made your heart swell.

he pulls away to kiss you deeply. “i love you,” he says earnestly when your lips part.

you laugh wetly and he wipes away a tear with his thumb. “i love you, too.” you kiss him again before taking a deep breath and shaking your head. “anyway,” you say, rubbing your nose with your knuckle before clearing your throat. “breakfast?”

when you’re all settled around the table, kuroo doesn’t let go of your hand once.

[minniesfiles]

SEVENTEEN AS GIRL DADS

❧ PAIRING; ot13 x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff, very light angst

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; tooth rotting fluff, sprinkle of angst in some parts, some dramatic situations but fluffy ending, established relationship, first time parents

𐚁₊⊹

SEUNGCHEOL

Seungcheol was sitting at his desk leaned over his laptop as his fingers quickly moved across the keyboard. His brows were knotted in concentration as his eyes were fixed intently on the screen. With the deadline approaching, he was committed to completing this document before the end of the evening.

Then suddenly the door to his study room bursted open, slamming against the wall. Before he could react, a small figure rushed inside with her tiny feet pounding against the wooden floor. His five-year-old daughter, Haeun, ran straight towards him crying out loud with her red and tear-streaked face.

Hot on her heels was you, looking frustrated and exhausted. “Haeun, come back here!” you called as you stepped into the room.

But Haeun didn’t stop. She launched herself onto her father’s lap and buried her face into his chest. Her little body trembled as she cried.

Seungcheol’s heart clenched. He immediately forgot about his laptop, the document, and the upcoming deadline. Nothing mattered more than his daughter’s distress. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“Shh, princess. What’s wrong?” he asked gently, tilting his head to look down at her.

“Mummy said…I c-can’t have…ice cream before dinner!” she managed to get out through hiccups and sniffles.

Seungcheol barely suppressed a smile. He glanced up at you, who crossed your arms and let out a tired sigh.

“She threw a tantrum when I said no,” you explained, shaking your head. “Then ran straight to you for backup.”

Your husband exhaled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head. It was a small thing, really, but to a five-year-old, it was the end of the world.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured, gently pulling Haeun back so he could look into her teary eyes. “I know you really want ice cream, but Mummy’s right. If you eat it now, you won’t be hungry for dinner. And you need a good meal first, don’t you?”

Haeun sniffled as her lips quivered. “But…but I really wanted it…”

“I know, princess” he said as he wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “How about this? If you eat all your dinner, we’ll have ice cream together afterward. Does that sound like a deal?”

Haeun hesitated, her big brown eyes searching his. Then, after a moment, she nodded slowly. “Okay…”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I said the same thing, and she threw a fit.”

Seungcheol rinned. “Dad privilege.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Fine. But only if she eats her vegetables.”

Haeun pouted but nodded again. “Okay Mummy.”

Seungcheol lifted her off his lap and set her on the floor. “Now, go wash your face, and we’ll have dinner soon.” Haeun gave him a quick hug before trotting off.

You sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “I swear, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Seungcheol chuckled as he turned back to his laptop. “Yeah…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

JEONGHAN

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon when your six-year-old, Jiwoo, looked up from her colouring book and studied her father’s long, smooth hair. Jeonghan was sitting on the sofa reading a book as his dark brown locks brushed over his shoulders effortlessly. You often teased him about how unfair it was that his hair looked better than yours with minimum maintenance.

Jiwoo tapped her chin thoughtfully, and an idea formed in her head. She set her crayons down and hopped off the sofa, marching over to her father.

“Daddy?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head.

Jeonghan looked up from his book. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Can I braid your hair?”

“Braid my hair?” he blinked.

Jiwoo nodded eagerly. “Please! Your hair is so pretty, and I want to make it even prettier!”

Jeonghan chuckled and set his book aside. “Well, how can I say no to that? Alright, let’s do it.”

Jiwoo clapped her hands in excitement and grabbed his wrist, leading him toward her bedroom. “You have to sit on my bed! And you can’t move, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, grinning as he obediently sat on the small pink bed which his legs barely fitted.

“Wait here!” she instructed before running over to her little play hairdressing station in the corner of her room. She rummaged through her plastic vanity and began gathering her toy hairbrush, colourful clips, and a few ribbons she saved from old presents.

Jeonghan patiently sat with hands resting on his lap as his daughter returned with her arms full of supplies. She placed everything on the bed beside him, then climbed up behind him and ran her tiny fingers through his hair.

“Wow Daddy. Your hair is so smooth! Mummy always says she’s jealous,” Jiwoo said, giggling.

“She does, doesn’t she?” Jeonghan smirked.

From the doorway, you leaned against the frame with your arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile. “Don’t get too proud Yoon Jeonghan. I let you have the better hair,” you teased.

“Of course dear” your husband chuckled.

Jiwoo, who was completely focused on her work, began brushing his hair with exaggerated care. “You have to be very still Daddy! I don’t want to mess up.”

Jeonghan straightened up his posture. “Not moving an inch,” he promised.

She nodded in approval and got to work. She hummed softly as she created a long, wobbly braid, occasionally stopping to add a colourful clip here and there.

You on the other hand covered your mouth to stifle a laugh as your daughter sprinkled in pink and purple ribbons, tying them into small bows at random spots.

After several minutes, Jiwoo finally clapped her hands. “All done!” She reached for a small mirror from her vanity and handed it to her father. “Look Daddy!”

Jeonghan held up the mirror and burst out laughing. His hair was an absolute masterpiece of uneven braids, mismatched ribbons, and bright butterfly clips.

“Well?” Jiwoo asked eagerly.

“I love it! Thank you sweetheart” Jeonghan smiled warmly.

JOSHUA

Joshua had been through his fair share of tantrums. Having a toddler meant that outbursts were a normal part of life. But today’s meltdown? This was on a whole new level.

He held Byul in his arms as she screamed, her little face red and wet with tears. The two-year-old kicked and squirmed as she tried to escape his grip. Her loud wails were practically echoing through the entire grocery store. It was the kind of tantrum that made people stop and stare. The kind that turned heads and made strangers mutter under their breath.

You on the other hand walked a few steps ahead, pushing the shopping trolley. Your face was carefully neutral, but Joshua could tell that the stares you were getting were bothering you. You exhaled softly and glanced at him. “She’s really going for it today,” you murmured.

“Oh, you think?” Joshua muttered, adjusting his grip as Byul twisted again, nearly knocking his baseball cap off. “She wanted the chocolate chip cookies, I said no, and now we’re here.”

You sighed while grabbing a box of cereal from the shelf. “People are staring.”

Joshua didn’t need to look around to know that was true. He could feel the eyes on him — annoyed glances from shoppers who just wanted to get through their day without a screaming child in the background. An older woman shook her head disapprovingly as she passed by, and a man near the dairy section shot Joshua a look that practically said, ‘Control your kid’.

Joshua tightened his hold on Byul as he bounced her slightly. “Bubba, please,” he whispered, brushing damp curls away from her flushed face. “I know you’re upset, but we can’t get cookies right now. We’ll have a snack when we get home, okay?”

But Byul wasn’t having it. She threw her head back and let out another ear-piercing wail. Joshua felt the frustration slowly creeping in. He was usually good at keeping his cool, but this was exhausting. He looked at you helplessly. “Any ideas?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, then reached into the trolley. You pulled out a bag of baby carrots and waved it in front of your daughter’s face. “Byul, look. Want some carrots?”

Byul, still sniffling, peeked at the bag and immediately shoved it away with a furious, “NO!”

You shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Joshua sighed. He was sweaty, tired, and feeling the pressure of every judgmental stare that was coming his way. But then, an idea struck him. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth trying.

He turned Byul around in his arms so they were face to face. “Bubba,” he said in a softer, playful tone, “can you take a deep breath with Daddy?”

Byul, still hiccupping from crying, shook her head stubbornly.

Joshua exaggerated a deep breath, making it loud and dramatic. “Biiiiig breath in—” he puffed out his cheeks, “—and whoooooosh, out!” he blew air gently on her face.

Byul blinked. She was still upset, but something about his silly breathing caught her attention. And so he did it again. “Whoooosh!”

Byul let out a tiny giggle between sniffles. “One more?” Joshua grinned. She hesitated, then copied him, taking a tiny, shuddering breath in and blowing out.

The screaming stopped, and both of you were relieved. “You’re a wizard” you smiled, shaking your head.

Joshua chuckled, “nah. Just a dad.”

JUNHUI

Junhui adjusted the straps of his backpack while holding his three-year-old’s hand. Mei clutched her stuffed bunny tightly as her eyes darted around the unfamiliar space. It was her first time on an airplane. More importantly, it was her first trip to China to meet Junhui’s side of the family for the Spring Festival.

“Are you excited to see Grandma and Grandpa?” Junhui asked as he crouched to her level.

Mei nodded hesitantly, and then looked up at you who smiled reassuringly. “It’ll be fun, sweetheart. And we get to fly in a big airplane!”

Mei didn’t look so sure about that part.

After checking in and going through security, you finally boarded the plane. Mei sat in the middle, with you by the window and Junhui by the aisle seat.

She fidgeted in her seat with her small legs dangling above the floor. Her nervous energy was apparent as she looked around to take in her unfamiliar surroundings.

Junhui then helped Mei put in her small earplugs, hoping they would soften the unfamiliar sounds. “These will make it nice and quiet,” he promised as he tucked a blanket around her lap.

When the flight attendants finished their safety announcements, the plane rumbled to life.

Despite the earplugs, the deep growl of the engines startled her. She flinched, eyes widening as she looked around in panic. Junhui reached for her hand. “It’s okay darling. That’s just the plane getting ready.”

But Mei didn’t look convinced.

The aircraft began rolling toward the runway, and the motion made her grip her bunny even tighter. Then the speed picked up — faster, faster — until suddenly, the nose lifted, and you were taking off.

The three-year-old felt her heart drop at the unfamiliar motion, and soon panic set in. She let out a whimper as her face scrunched up. Tears welled up in her eyes, and then — she bursted into sobs.

Junhui’s heart clenched. He hated seeing her scared. Ignoring the glances from other passengers, he unbuckled his seatbelt just enough to lean closer.

“Mei, it’s okay,” he said gently while rubbing her back. “Daddy’s right here.”

“I don’t like it!” she wailed as her little hands gripped your shirt tightly. “I want to go home!”

You pressed a kiss to her head. “Shh, baby, we’re safe. The plane is just going up in the sky, like a bird.”

Mei sniffled but still whimpered. Her tiny body trembled as she cried while gripping her bunny like a lifeline.

Junhui hated seeing her in distress. So he thought for a moment, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a small red envelope. “Hey, Mei, look what I have.”

Her sobs slowed just enough for her to look at it.

“This is a hóngbāo from Grandpa,” he said, opening it just enough to show the shiny coin inside. “He sent it early for you. And guess what? He can’t wait to give you more when we get there.”

Mei sniffled, eyes still watery but now distracted.

You wiped your daughter’s tears gently. “And when we land, we’ll see Grandma and Grandpa, and there will be lanterns, fireworks, and lots of yummy dumplings.”

Mei hesitated, then clutched the red envelope along with her bunny. “Dumplings?”

“Lots of them” Junhui grinned.

The plane soon steadied in the air, and the worst of the takeoff behind was now over. Mei’s sobs faded into sniffles as she leaned sleepily against her father’s arm.

Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so scary after all.

SOONYOUNG

The music stopped. The cheers faded. And the winner was announced.

But it wasn’t him.

Soonyoung sat backstage, slumped against the wall with his arms resting on his knees and his head hanging low. Sweat dripped from his tired face, while his tank top was soaked through from the hours of dancing under the bright stage lights.

His chest ached, but not from exhaustion. This pain ran deeper. Months of practice, of pushing his body to the limit, of dreaming of victory…all for nothing.

He clenched his fists, his breathing shaky. He told himself it wouldn’t matter if he lost, and that the experience alone was enough. But now, sitting here alone in the dim backstage area while the winner celebrated, he felt like a failure.

A choked sob escaped his lips. He buried his face in his hands, and his body trembled as tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

“Daddy?”

Soonyoung felt his breath hitch. He looked up with his tear-blurred vision.

There he saw his five-year-old daughter, Arin, standing a few steps away with her small hands clutching the hem of her pink dress. Her big brown eyes were filled with worry. Behind her stood you with a sad smile as you let your daughter go ahead.

Arin took a cautious step forward. “Daddy…are you sad?” she asked.

Soonyoung swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to find his voice. “Yes baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Daddy lost.”

Arin frowned, then quietly sat in front of him, folding her legs. She reached out her tiny hands and placed them gently over his own. “It’s okay Daddy.”

Soonyoung let out a shaky breath as fresh tears spilled over. He tried to hold it together, but with his little girl sitting there, looking at him with so much love and concern, the dam broke. He sobbed openly and pulled her into his arms.

Arin wrapped her small arms around his neck, patting his back the way he always did when she cried. “Don’t be sad Daddy,” she said softly. “You’re still the best dancer in the world.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders shook as he held her tighter. “Oh, baby…”

Arin pulled back slightly and cupped his tear-streaked cheeks in her tiny hands. “You dance so cool Daddy. Even cooler than the people on TV!”

You knelt beside them and rubbed your husband’s back. “She’s right, you know,” you murmured. “You worked so hard, and no trophy can change that.”

Soonyoung let out a weak chuckle through his tears, and looked into his daughter’s hopeful eyes. He wiped his face and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, my baby.”

“Can we dance when we get home?” Arin grinned.

Soonyoung exhaled, and a genuine smile finally broke through his sadness. He nodded. “Yeah. We can dance as much as you want.”

And at that moment, the loss didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Because to his little girl, he would always be a champion.

WONWOO

Wonwoo loved the beach in theory. The soft sand beneath his feet, the salty breeze that tousled his hair, the crashing of the waves — it was beautiful, and peaceful. But the ocean itself? That was different. Ever since he was a child, he had feared the water. A near-drowning incident during his childhood left a scar in his mind, one that never fully faded.

Still, he wouldn’t let his past keep him from making memories with his family. You were laying out your small picnic on a checkered blanket while humming a tune as you arranged the sandwiches and fruit.

Your five-year-old daughter, Yoonji, was giggling as she played near the shore with her bright pink floaty bobbing in the gentle waves. Wonwoo was distracted by your laughter and the task at hand that he unintentionally forgot to keep a close eye on Yoonji.

When the food was ready, he stood and dusted the sand off his hands. “Yoonie! Come eat!” he called, but there was no response. His heart began to race as he turned around, scanning the shoreline.

Then he heard the screaming.

His head snapped toward the water, and his heart nearly stopped. A small figure thrashed in the waves, the familiar floaty drifting farther away from her.

Yoonji.

A terrified scream tore from your throat as you ran towards the sea, but Wonwoo was faster. His body moved before his mind could catch up. Fear gripped at him as he approached the sea. He felt his past fear creeping in, but nothing mattered more than his daughter.

“I’m coming baby!” he frantically exclaimed as he charged into the waves.

The shock of the cold water sent his heart racing as he dove into the sea. For a brief second, the old memories surged back. But then he saw Yoonji’s tiny arms struggling against the waves with her mouth opening and closing as she tried to stay afloat.

His fear vanished. All that remained was the desperate need to reach for his child.

His strokes were fast and uneven, but determined regardless. The salty water splashed into his face and burned his eyes, but he pushed forward. He had to.

Finally, his fingers brushed against Yoonji’s trembling form. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his bare chest.

“I got you, baby. Daddy got you” his voice broke, but his grip was firm.

Yoonji held onto her father as she sobbed against his shoulder. He could feel her tiny body shaking. With every ounce of strength he had left, he swam back. His muscles burned, but he refused to stop.

At last, his feet found the sand. He stumbled but held tight to his daughter. “You’re okay, baby. Daddy is here” his breath was ragged as he carried her onto the shore.

You rushed towards them with tears streaming down your face. You wrapped Yoonji in your arms and pressed frantic kisses to her wet hair.

Wonwoo collapsed onto his knees beside you from exhaustion. But guilt soon overwhelmed him.

He took his eyes off her. He let this happen.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered with a hoarse voice.

“You saved her” you reassured him.

Yoonji sniffled as her small hands clutched his arm. “I was scared.” Wonwoo swallowed hard and pulled her close. “Me too baby.”

As he sat there, holding his daughter in his arms, he realised something. He feared the ocean all his life, but nothing had ever terrified him more than the thought of losing his daughter.

JIHOON

Jihoon sat hunched over his keyboard with headphones covering his ears. He was working on a track for another but k-pop group amongst his long list of requests. He adjusted the bassline and nodded slightly as he felt the groove settle in. He was close, but not quite there yet.

A sudden knock on the door pulled Jihoon from his focus. He barely had time to react before the door opened, revealing two of his favorite people in the world.

“Daddy!”

A high-pitched squeal filled the room as his six-year-old daughter, Nari, dashed towards him with her small feet pattering against the floor. Jihoon turned in his chair and pulled off his glasses as a wide smile stretched across his tired face.

“Come here my princess,” he said, spreading his arms wide.

He chuckled as Nari wasted no time leaping onto his lap and wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. He felt the warmth of her hug melt away the heavy exhaustion of the day.

“I missed you Daddy,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

Jihoon pouted in guilt. He had been working late for weeks now, buried in projects and fine-tuning beats until the early hours of the morning. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the familiar scent of strawberries from her shampoo.

“I’m sorry princess. Daddy’s been really busy.”

You walked in with a soft smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss on your husband’s lips. “You should take a break love,” you whispered.

Jihoon exhaled. He knew you were right. But before he could argue, Nari gasped and wiggled out of his grasp. “Daddy! Can I play the piano?” she asked with her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Jihoon chuckled. “Of course princess. Show me what you got.”

Nari scrambled off his lap and ran to the sleek black piano sitting in the corner of the studio. You and Jihoon followed, taking a seat beside your daughter as she placed her small fingers on the keys.

With absolute focus, Nari pressed the keys one by one as she attempted to play a tune she heard him compose before. The notes weren’t perfect — some were offbeat, others hesitant — but she was determined. Jihoon exchanged a knowing glance with you before both bursted into soft giggles at your daughter’s intense concentration.

“You almost got it baby,” Jihoon encouraged and guided her tiny fingers to the right keys.

She pouted slightly, frustrated with herself, but tried again. And again. Jihoon’s heart swelled with pride. He loved that she shared his passion for music, even if right now, it was just for fun.

After a while, Nari suddenly turned to him with her best pleading expression. “Daddy, can we go home now? Let’s have s’mores and watch a movie together! Please?”

Jihoon hesitated and glanced back at his computer screen. He had so much work left to do. The deadline aside, Jihoon was a perfectionist. It was why he spent so much extra time in the studio to make sure the tracks he produced were top quality.

But then he looked at his daughter’s hopeful eyes as her small hands tugged at his sleeve.

Work could wait.

Jihoon sighed, then grinned as he scooped Nari into his arms. “Alright, alright. You win princess.”

Nari cheered in victory, and you laughed shaking your head.

As you all left the studio together, Jihoon knew he had made the right choice. Music was his passion, but his family was his heart. And in the end, no melody in the world could ever compare to the sound of his daughter’s laughter.

SEOKMIN

The park was quiet, save for the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. You and Seokmin walked along the park path with your fingers intertwined as you rested your head on his shoulder. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments he wished could last forever.

Ahead of you was your four-year-old daughter, Hana, skipping happily with an oversized ice cream cone in her small hands. She was talking a mile a minute about her day at kindergarten, barely pausing for breath between licks.

“And then, Miss Kim said my drawing was really pretty, and I got a gold star!” Hana announced proudly.

“That’s amazing sweetie. What did you draw?” you smiled.

“A rainbow! With a unicorn! And sparkles!” your daughter exclaimed, turning slightly to flash you both a wide, toothy grin.

“Sounds like a masterpiece” Seokmin laughed.

Hana nodded eagerly and took another bite of her ice cream. Everything felt perfect. The quietness in the park, the warmth of your body against his, your daughter’s innocent laughter — it was a moment he’d tuck away in his heart forever.

But then, in an instant, that peace was ruined.

A man, walking briskly and not paying attention, carelessly bumped into Hana. The impact sent her tiny body stumbling backward. She landed hard on the pavement while her ice cream slipped from her grasp and splattering across the ground.

There was silence for a second before a wail cut through the air.

Seokmin’s stomach dropped as he sprinted forward and dropped to his knees beside Hana. She was holding onto her arm with tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

“Hey, Daddy got you, hmm? Are you okay? Let’s check your arm” his voice was gentle, but his hands trembled as he checked her over.

“My arm hurts,” she whimpered as her little body shook. “And my ice cream is gone…”

You knelt beside them and quickly examined Hana’s arm. “I don’t think it’s broken, just a little bruised,” you reassured as you brushed her hair from her face. “You’re so brave sweetheart.”

Seokmin’s jaw clenched as he turned to the man who had knocked into her. The guy — dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans — barely stopped. He looked back briefly but made no move to apologise or help.

And something in Seokmin snapped.He stood up abruptly with his body rigid with anger. “Hey!” he barked with a sharp voice.

The man hesitated, but then scoffed. “Wasn’t my fault, the kid wasn’t watching where she was going.”

Seokmin took a step forward, his fists clenching. “You knocked over my daughter, and that’s all you have to say?”

You, who was still crouched by Hana, snapped your head up. “Seokmin…” you called out to him.

But Seokmin was already stepping closer. He had never been the type to pick fights, but seeing Hana cry and the indifference on this guy’s face — he couldn’t just let it slide.

“You need to apologise,” he growled as his fists itched to do more than just demand words.

The man scoffed again. “Whatever,” he muttered before turning to walk away.

Seokmin took another step forward, but suddenly, a small voice stopped him.

“Daddy?”

He turned back and his eyes met Hana’s teary ones. She wasn’t scared of the man — she was scared of him. He shut his eyes and exhaled a deep breath before fluttering them open again.

He walked back over to her and crouched down to her level. He cupped her cheeks and wiped away her tears. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.”

Hana sniffled again and looked at her fallen ice cream. “But…my treat…”

“Then let’s go get you another one. How about two scoops this time?” you said.

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

You hummed and then turned to your husband, touching his arm gently. “Come on love. She needs you more than he deserves your anger.”

Seokmin took a deep breath, forcing himself to let it go. With one last glare at the man’s retreating figure, he lifted Hana into his arms.

Hana immediately wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and snuggled into him. As you walked back toward the ice cream stand, Seokmin kissed the top of his daughter’s head, holding her close. Some fights weren’t worth it — but protecting his family always would be.

MINGYU

Mingyu stepped out of the shower feeling his body aching from an exhausting day at work. The warm water had helped ease some of the tension in his muscles, but the fatigue was still there weighing heavily upon him. He ran a towel through his damp hair and sighed as he prepared himself for what he hoped would be a quiet evening.

Then he heard it — a sharp, piercing wail resonating through the house. Aera’s cry — tiny yet somehow powerful enough to make his heart stop.

Mingyu didn’t think twice. He dropped the towel and hurried toward the nursery. The moment he stepped inside, he saw you sitting in the nursing chair cradling your newborn daughter against your chest. You looked exhausted, and your eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said over the frantic cries. “She won’t latch…she won’t stop crying…”

Mingyu’s heart ached at the sight of your struggling. He knew how much you wanted to breastfeed, and how much pressure you put on yourself to make it work. But your daughter, barely two weeks old, was inconsolable as her tiny fists flailed, refusing to settle.

Without hesitation, he moved towards. “Let me take her.”

You hesitated, but your shoulders slumped in relief as you gently passed Aera to him. The moment she was in his arms, Mingyu was struck again by just how tiny she was. At six feet-two inches tall, his arms broad and strong, she fit against him like a fragile doll, so impossibly small and delicate.

“Shh, baby girl,” he whispered to her as he held her close. “Daddy’s got you.” his voice was softer than it had ever been.

Her cries didn’t stop immediately. They were still loud, her tiny face scrunched in distress, but Mingyu remained calm. He placed her upright against his bare chest, one large hand supporting her fragile back while the other cradled the back of her head. He began to rock her gently as he paced across the nursery.

The frantic hysteria in her voice soon quieted just a little, turning into tiny whimpers as her small body slowly relaxed against him. Mingyu pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the faint scent of baby lotion.

You watched from the chair as tears rolled down your cheeks — not just from exhaustion, but from relief.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you whispered.

Mingyu turned to you while still rocking Aera. “You’re not doing anything wrong love.”

Your lip quivered. “She wouldn’t stop crying…she wouldn’t eat…”

Mingyu walked back over and crouched down so you could see your daughter’s peaceful face as she nuzzled into his chest. “She just needed a minute to feel safe. And she will eat, when she’s ready.”

You exhaled shakily and nodded as you wiped away your tears. Mingyu leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. “You’re doing an amazing job,” he assured you. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Aera let out a tiny sigh as her tiny fingers curled against his chest as she finally settled into sleep. Mingyu felt his heart swell. He was overwhelmed by love for the little family you and he had created.

Exhaustion didn’t even matter at that point. Work didn’t matter. All that mattered was this — holding his daughter close, keeping her safe, and making sure you knew you weren’t alone.

He would always be here. For both of you.

MINGHAO

Minghao adjusted his glasses as they slipped down the bridge of his nose. It was a movement so familiar that it became muscle memory. He barely noticed anymore — just a simple push, a brief pause, and then back to the task at hand.

Stacks of student papers sat before him, each marked with his red pen in his neat handwriting. It was late, far later than he intended to stay up. But even as a college professor, he had deadlines. The responsibility was big.

Then, a sound broke the quiet atmosphere. He heard soft cries growing louder as they approached the living room.

Minghao set his pen down and turned just as you entered. Your face was lined with exhaustion, your eyes glassy with worry. In your arms, your one-year-old daughter, Daiyu, whimpered pitifully as her tiny face scrunched in distress.

“I think she has a fever,” you murmured as you shifted Daiyu in your arms.

Minghao’s heart clenched at the sight of his little girl’s flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. Without hesitation, he stood up and reached for her. And with gentle but firm hands, he took her from your arms.

Daiyu squirmed. He felt her warm body radiating heat against his chest. She was clearly burning up. He rocked her gently and pressed a kiss to her damp forehead.

“Shh, bǎo bèi,” he whispered. “Daddy’s here.”

You hovered close while rubbing your arms as though you were cold. But your worry was visible. “What should we do?”

“Let’s check her temperature first.”

Carrying Daiyu, he walked towards the medicine cabinet and grabbed the thermometer with one hand while balancing her with the other. He placed it under her arm and murmured soft reassurances as she fussed. A few seconds later, the reading confirmed what he was already worried about.

“She’s definitely running a fever,” he said as he kept his voice steady, though his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

You bit your lip as your hands twisted together. “Should we call the doctor?” you asked.

“Not yet,” Minghao said gently. “Let’s give her some medicine first and see if it helps.”

He carefully measured out the correct dose of infant fever reducer and gently encouraged Daiyu to swallow it while whispering soothing words. Despite her little whimper, she leaned against his chest and gripped his shirt with her small fingers.

He resumed pacing around the house while rocking her in his arms. His professor’s mind was now entirely focused on his daughter. The academic world, the papers waiting for his attention — none of it mattered right now.

You sat on the sofa watching them with a soft expression. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly as you saw how gently Minghao held your daughter.

For nearly an hour, he walked, whispering lullabies, stroking her back, feeling her tiny breaths against his neck. Slowly, the fever medicine began to work, and Daiyu’d cries quieted. Her body relaxed against him as her breathing evened out.

Finally, when he was sure she was fully asleep, he carefully laid her in her cot. He stood there for a moment and watched her to make sure she was truly resting.

You stepped beside him and leaned into his side. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Minghao sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “She’s our baby. I’d do anything for her.”

As he looked down at your sleeping daughter, peaceful at last, he knew he’d stay up all night if he had to — because some things were far more important than grading papers.

SEUNGKWAN

Seungkwan let out a satisfied sigh as he sank into the sofa after putting the laundry in the dryer. He knew you would appreciate coming home to clean clothes instead of another argument about his procrastination. You worked long hours, and the last thing he wanted was to hear you yelling about unfinished chores.

Just as he was about to close his eyes for a well-earned break, a small voice interrupted him.

“Daddy?”

Seungkwan opened one eye to see his five-year-old daughter, Yuna, standing beside him with an eager grin. “Yes darling?”

“Can I put makeup on you?” she asked.

Seungkwan frowned. “Makeup? But Yuna, you don’t have any makeup.”

“I’ll use Mummy’s!” she giggled mischievously.

Seungkwan sat up straighter. “Uh…I don’t think Mummy would like that,” he said carefully. “She doesn’t like anyone touching her stuff.”

“Please Daddy?” Yuna pleaded with her big eyes shimmering with hope. She clasped her little hands together and tilted her head like a puppy begging for a treat.

Seungkwan hesitated. The idea of having his face covered in lipstick and eyeshadow wasn’t exactly appealing. But how could he say no to that face?

“Alright,” he finally relented with a sigh. “But! Mummy can’t know, okay? It’s our little secret.”

Yuna squealed in delight and grabbed his hand before dragging him upstairs to the bedroom. She climbed onto the bed and rummaged through your emergency makeup bag with the enthusiasm of a treasure hunter. Seungkwan at patiently, already regretting this decision.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with giggles and concentration as she dabbed powder onto his cheeks, swiped red lipstick across his lips (some of it ending up on his chin), and painted his eyelids with an uneven mix of shimmering pink and purple.

Seungkwan caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and nearly laughed out loud. He looked ridiculous. But when he saw Yuna’s face beaming with joy, he didn’t care.

“You look so pretty Daddy!” she said proudly.

Before Seungkwan could respond, the sound of the front door opening made his stomach drop. You were home.

“Quick! Clean up!” his eyes widened.

But it was too late. The footsteps got closer, followed by your voice. “Yuna? Kwanie?”

The bedroom door swung open, and there you stood.

Your gaze swept over the scene before you — the makeup scattered across the bed, your daughter holding a mascara wand like a paintbrush, and your husband sitting there with his face covered in a colorful mess.

Your eyes widened in shock, “my makeup!” you shrieked.

Yuna flinched at your tone, but Seungkwan quickly spoke up. “Honey, I—”

“You let her use my expensive makeup for this?!” you interrupted.

But then, as you stared at them, something shifted. You saw the way Yuna giggled with her little hands covered in powder. You saw Seungkwan looking utterly ridiculous but grinning as your daughter beamed with happiness.

And just like that, your frustration melted away.

Seungkwan gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ll buy you new ones, I promise” he told you.

He then glanced at Yuna, who was now giggling uncontrollably. “But…look how happy she is.”

You let out a deep breath. Then, against your better judgment, you laughed. “You’re lucky she’s cute,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, do you want Yuna to do your makeup next?” your husband grinned.

“Yes! Mummy, can I do your makeup next?” Yuna jumped up.

“Not a chance” you deadpanned.

HANSOL

Hansol sat at his tiny desk typing away on his laptop with one hand while the other cradled his six-month-old daughter Nabi against his chest. She was so warm and peaceful in his arms. Her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of his grey hoodie as he gently rocked her with his knee.

He was exhausted, but exhaustion had become second nature by now. Between his final year of university and fatherhood, sleep was a luxury. His dissertation deadline was in two weeks, and with every keystroke, he fought against time. He was determined to finish strong, if not for himself, then for you and his daughter.

Nabi wasn’t exactly planned to begin with. When you found out that you were pregnant, it hit him hard. Both of you were scared. Hansol remembered sitting on your dorm room bed with his hands gripping his hair while you cried softly beside him. Neither of you had an idea how you were going to manage university and a baby. It felt impossible.

But that was until Nabi was born.

Hansol wasn’t the type to cry easily, but when the nurse placed her in his arms for the first time, he broke completely. She weighed like a feather, so small and fragile, and yet the weight of her in his arms felt heavy.

Every doubt, every fear, melted away in that moment. He made a silent vow to her that he would do anything to protect her and give her the life she deserved.

It wasn’t easy. Balancing classes, assignments, and sleepless nights with a newborn pushed you both to your limits. But he and you faced every challenge together. You leaned on each other when things got overwhelming.

And tonight was no different.

Hansol adjusted Nabi slightly to make sure she was comfortable, and kept typing. His dissertation deadline was fast approaching, and he still had a long way to go. He tried to focus, but the warmth of Nabi against him and the rhythmic sound of her breathing made it hard not to get distracted.

And then, without warning, Nabi stirred. She let out a tiny gurgle before she vomited all over him.

Hansol’s body froze.

The warmth of the spit-up seeped through his hoodie and onto his chest. His eyes widened in horror as he realised some of it had also landed on his dissertation papers.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned as he pushed his chair back abruptly. He carefully lifted Nabi away from the mess, wrinkling his nose.

“Babe! I need backup!”

A moment later, you appeared in the doorway with your own tired eyes widening as you took in the scene. Hansol, covered in baby vomit, Nabi blinking innocently in his arms, and his once-pristine papers now splattered with milk.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, but a snort of laughter escaped. “You look like you just lost a fight,” you teased.

“Yeah, and she didn’t even have to try,” your boyfriend muttered, trying to wipe himself down while keeping Nabi steady.

“Can you grab me a towel? And maybe some clean paper while you’re at it?”

Still giggling, you disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth. You wiped Nabi’s mouth first before handing Hansol another towel.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” you mused.

Hansol looked down at Nabi, who was now grinning up at him, completely unaware of the chaos she had caused. He couldn’t help but smile back, shaking his head.

“She’s worth it,” he said simply.

“Aren’t you princess?” he looked down at his daughter with a smile before leaning down to kiss her forehead. Nabi giggled as she reached her arms up to grab his face.

You leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek. “Yeah,” you murmured, “she really is.”

Life wasn’t perfect. It was messy, exhausting, and full of unexpected surprises. But as Hansol looked at his daughter and the love of his life, he knew one thing for sure — he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

CHAN

Chan stepped out of his car and stretched his arms as he took a deep breath of the cool night air. It had been a while since he went out with the boys, and though he enjoyed the break, he was eager to be home. The comfort of his wife and daughter was where he truly belonged.

But the moment he stepped inside, he knew something was wrong.

The house was in chaos. There were pillows thrown from the sofa, toys scattered everywhere, and a sippy cup knocked over, juice pooling on the coffee table. Then he heard his four-year-old daughter, Dahyun, crying and screaming loudly.

Chan’s stomach tightened as he hurried towards the living room.

When he walked in seeing you holding Dahyun by her arms and guiding her down onto her bottom with an exhausted but sharp glare.

“Sit on your bottom, now,” you ordered, your voice raised and filled with frustration. “You do NOT throw toys across the room like that when you’re told no. That made Mummy very sad!”

Dahyun froze, startled by your angry tone. Her big, tear-filled eyes locked onto your face as her little chest rose and fell in quick breaths. The room was silent just for a second, and Chan saw the confusion in his daughter’s expression. Then, she bursted into loud, uncontrollable sobs with fat tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

Chen’s frown deepened. His heart squeezed painfully watching her wail with her tiny hands gripping her pyjama shirt as she hiccupped between cries.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

You let out a long, tired sigh as you rubbed your temple. Dark circles under your eyes showed just how drained you were. “She threw her toy at me when I told her she couldn’t have another custard tart,” you explained softly but still frustrated.

“It nearly hit me Chan. I can’t let her think that’s okay. She needs to learn.”

Chan nodded understandingly. You were home with Dahyun all day managing her tantrums, her tireless energy, and her stubbornness. He knew how exhausting it was. He also knew that you weren’t usually this harsh. You were just at your limit.

Still, the way Dahyun was crying, the way her little body shook on the floor, made his chest ache unbearably.

“Don’t comfort her yet,” you added quickly, sensing his thoughts. “She needs to understand that what she did was wrong.”

Chan hesitated as his gaze shifted between you and your daughter. You weren’t wrong — Dahyun needed to learn boundaries. But the way she was sobbing and struggling to breathe between her cries made it impossible for him to stand by and do nothing.

He couldn’t.

Ignoring your warning, he stepped forward and knelt down before scooping Dahyun into his arms. She held onto him immediately with her little fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt as she buried her wet face into his neck.

“Shh, my baby, calm down” Chan whispered as he rocked her gently.

Dahyun’s cries softened into hiccups as he rubbed her back in slow circles. He pressed gentle kisses to her tear-streaked cheeks while murmuring soothing words as he held her close.

You sighed as you leaned back against the sofa, exhausted. “Chan..”

“I know,” he said before you could finish. He knew discipline was important. He knew Dahyun had to learn that throwing things in anger wasn’t okay. But he also knew she was only four and was still learning how to handle her big emotions. Right now, what she needed more than anything was comfort.

You exhaled as your anger faded into quiet understanding. “It’s just been a long day,” you admitted.

Chan nodded while he adjusted Dahyun as her sniffles finally calmed. “We’ll teach her together,” he promised. “But I can’t just watch her cry like that. I just can’t.”

“I know” you offered a smal, tired smile.

As Dahyun’s small body relaxed against his chest, Chan knew that parenting wasn’t about being perfect. It was about balance. Discipline and love, lessons and comfort. And at the end of the day, no matter how difficult things got, love would always come first.

a/n; comment your favourite!

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Yandere batfamily x neglected reader

In the cold, towering shadows of Wayne Manor, you existed as a flicker of something forgotten, something unseen. To the family, you were a presence, but never a person—a thing that was always there, never quite needed, but always expected to be. It was a strange kind of loneliness, one that settled deep within your bones. It wasn’t hate, not outright. But it was neglect, a neglect that twisted and shaped itself into something far more sinister.

Bruce, with all his focus on Gotham’s endless darkness, had never known how to be a father in the way you needed. He loved you, he cared for you in his own way, but it was a cold, distant love, one born out of obligation. He made sure you had everything you needed: food, clothes, shelter. But that was all it was. There was no warmth in his touch, no kindness in his words. Every time he passed by, his gaze barely brushed over you, and you would hold your breath, hoping for just a second of acknowledgment, a second of care that never came. But you learned quickly—Bruce didn’t have time to see you. His world was bigger than you, and in his eyes, you were just a small piece of the puzzle. You weren’t a person to be loved and cherished. You were a responsibility. A duty. He never once sat down with you to hear how your day went, or how you felt. If you wanted attention, you had to earn it. If you needed comfort, you had to wait for him to decide you were worthy of it.

Dick, who was always smiling, always so eager to please, had a different kind of neglect. He wasn’t cold like Bruce, but he wasn’t present either. Dick was always somewhere else, wrapped up in his own world. He’d sweep into the room with his wide grin, maybe a pat on the head, maybe a quick word here or there. But his affection never reached past the surface. It was the kind of love that only showed up when it was convenient, when it didn’t get in the way of his own life. He would hug you, but it was quick, fleeting, as though his attention was already elsewhere. Sometimes you would stand there for minutes, waiting for him to notice you, to actually see you, but the longer you waited, the more you realized it wasn’t going to happen. Dick wasn’t truly there, not in the way you needed him to be. He never asked you how you were doing, never checked on you when you were quiet for too long. You weren’t worth his time unless it was easy, unless it was convenient. And as time passed, you learned that his love was always on his terms, and you were always left waiting for the moments that never came.

Tim, who was so intelligent and sharp, didn’t understand you at all. He looked at you like a problem to solve. There was no tenderness in his eyes, no softness in his voice when he spoke to you. His way of showing care was to ask you if you’d eaten, or if you were okay, but there was always a sense that he was doing it out of routine rather than genuine concern. If you showed signs of needing more than the bare minimum, he’d get frustrated, annoyed even, as if your needs were an inconvenience. You weren’t allowed to be a bother. You weren’t allowed to be human. Tim loved you, yes, but it was the love of someone who didn’t know how to love. He saw you as an extension of his world, not a person in your own right. Your silence was met with frustration, your sadness met with impatience. He didn’t have time to comfort you; he had cases to solve, problems to fix. You were a task to him, a thing to be checked off and moved on from.

Jason’s love was the most painful of all. It wasn’t outright cruel, but it was laced with a sharpness that cut deep. Jason would pull you close when you needed him the least, but when you needed him the most, he would turn away. His love came in flashes, in moments of brief connection that would burn brightly before fading into coldness. He wasn’t able to offer you the consistency you craved, the stability that your heart so desperately needed. When he did notice you, it was often in a sharp, harsh way—his anger spilling out, his guilt over his own brokenness feeding into his care for you, but it was a broken care. It was as if he wanted to protect you, but he couldn’t figure out how without making you feel like a burden. His love was suffocating, overbearing, because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. But that was his problem, wasn’t it? His love was for himself, his need to fix something broken, and not for you. He loved you with the intensity of a man trying to fix his own past mistakes, but never once did he pause to think if you needed that love, or if it was too much to carry.

Damian’s neglect came in the form of indifference. You didn’t exist in his world. His eyes would slide over you like you were nothing more than a fixture in the background. He had no patience for anything that wasn’t him, no time to stop and listen to your needs. When he did interact with you, it was always with an air of superiority. He would demand your attention, but when you needed his, he was too proud to offer it. His love wasn’t love at all—it was control. He wanted you to fit into his world, to mold yourself into his idea of what you should be. He never bothered to learn who you truly were, who you were beyond the title of "his sibling." To him, you were just an extension of his father's empire, not a person in your own right. His love came with expectations, and if you didn’t meet them, he would ignore you, push you further away. His neglect was harsh and unapologetic. It wasn’t even something he noticed, because in his eyes, he was right. And you were just supposed to be there.

Cassandra and Stephanie, who had seen pain in their own lives, understood loneliness, but they couldn’t reach you in the way you needed. Cassandra, though she understood the language of silence, was too quiet herself to break the walls you had built. She couldn’t reach into your soul the way you needed, couldn’t make you feel like you were more than just a shadow. Stephanie tried, she really did. She was always the bright one, the one who pulled you into her light, who tried to make you laugh, tried to be the friend you didn’t have. But it wasn’t enough. Her love was more like a mask, something to keep up appearances, something to show that she cared—but deep down, you knew it wasn’t the kind of love you needed. It was temporary. It was the kind of love that lasted only as long as it was convenient, and when the days became long, when the nights became cold, Stephanie’s love faded into the background like everything else.

Duke, the newest addition to the family, wanted to be the one to fix things, but he was just too late. He saw the cracks in the family, the way you were pushed aside, but he wasn’t strong enough to fight against the currents that had already shaped you into something else. His love was genuine, but it was too new, too fragile to make a difference in the sea of neglect that had already swallowed you whole. He wanted to protect you, wanted to be the person you could rely on, but he couldn’t find a way to break through the walls of hurt that had built themselves around you.

They all loved you, in their own way. But love, when it’s cold, distant, and inconsistent, becomes a weapon. Love, when it’s mixed with neglect, becomes emotional abuse. It isn’t always harsh or violent. It’s quiet, hidden in the silences, in the moments where your needs go unrecognized. It’s in the way they forget you, in the way they act as though your pain is just a passing inconvenience. It’s in the way they only notice you when it suits them, when they remember that you’re there, when it’s time to check off the box of “care.”

You weren’t hated. But you were forgotten. And in the shadows of Wayne Manor, where the world’s greatest heroes lived, that silence was the loudest thing you could ever hear.

[doinkbunny]

✧₊⁺ THE RED MEANS I LOVE YOU 𝜗𝜚

𑁯 Yandere ENA admiring reader.

ᵎᵎ.˖ꪆ𖠵꒷ Pst! Cherry says: In which you ramble like a kid to ena but she's too distracted admiring to pay attention. This fic was fueled by my absolute adoration with this silly girl, i need her so baddd so i might make another fic like this if this gets enough attention. (There's mlp reference in this btw.)

.ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ Warnings: Obsession (duh), possessiveness, Meanie is almost cracking while salesman is on her last thread.

𝜗𝜚 Type: Fluff, romantic, one shot.

｡𖦹°‧ Song: Lovers rock.

"Beautiful, so beautiful," she felt so fuzzy anytime she looked or talked to you.

That's one of the many, many things you were doing to her, and there are so many reasons why. She loved the way your lips moved, the way you'd subtly increase the intensity of your gesticulation whenever you got too excited talking, and even when you would accidentally choke over your own words.

She was head over heels for you. It was quite the exquisite scenario, even: someone making the unforgivable and chaotic ENA grow a feeling or two. And obliviously.

You were sat with ENA near the lake, your hands moving random circles and squares in the air, your feet touching the water subtly with some of your hand movements while you intensely ranted to her, your excited tone never wavering.

And so did Ena's continuous admiration.

As you kept going with your explanation of some type of pony cartoon, Ena couldn't help but admire the way you looked so excited to talk to her, of all people. Most people would have distanced themselves once they heard the rumors about Ena, but you? No, you were different.

And maybe that's why she's so hooked, because you treated her like a human, something visible and with feelings—the bare minimum.

And only God knows how that made her feel good.

You made her feel something she'd never felt before so spontaneously, it was almost soul-bonding, and that's when she immediately knew you two needed to stay close.

To her luck, you actually enjoyed her presence and would often seek it more than she wished for, consequently making her need to see you satiated. That was good.

What was bad, though, were the times she'd have to stay away from you—unwillingly, making her miss you almost immediately.

These times would come so suddenly, and not only because of her stupid jobs from her deplorable job. Sometimes duty calls for you, and then, she'd be forced to just let you go.

While her salesman side was good at hiding her frustration, Meanie was almost combusting from the inside out, forcing Salesman to take control in order to avoid any... mistakes, letting you go so easily but hesitantly.

And once you're gone? That disgusting sensation of longing to feel you once again would fill her quite quickly; that would make any hidden frustration pop out like a balloon under any slight pressure.

Ena can't handle it—she wants you so badly. Your detailed and well-rendered polygons against her badly loaded ones makes her feel so less nauseous.

Gosh, she wishes she could just—

"Ena?" A voice calls out, her name catching the desired attention; hers, shutting down the continuation of her previous thought quickly, her head jerking slightly from on top of her palm that was supporting it before, her eyes landing on the source that called her name.

You.

Her signature smile popped on her face rapidly as once her attention was back to the world outside her thoughts, erasing any trace of possible tension.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I've gotten quite distracted by my own brain. What was the topic of the conversation, again?"

"Oh, nothing, just a silly show about ponies and friendship... What were you thinking about, anyways? You looked pretty deep in thought."

You curiously and somewhat worriedly asked, gaining a different type of endearing smile, a little short laugh, and a light pat on your head from Ena, her eyes closing ever so slightly with the smiling.

"I can assure you it's nothing but some silly reflections. Don't worry your pretty little head."

Word Count: 382

[inloveinsickness]

❝ HUSH ❞ — sakusa kiyoomi

cw. f!reader, fluff, olympics au, athletic trainer!reader, timeskip characters, established relationship, secret marriage, language (omi swears like once), not beta read (sorry!) word count. ~ 1.6k

“japan’s outside hitter sakusa kiyoomi and newly revealed wife, athletic trainer y/n l/n, steals the spotlight in the city of love!”

@tetzoro's summer olympics collab

your eyes glance in his direction, letting it linger on his figure as the team settles down into their corner. he’s a little tense, understandably so– it’s his first time at the olympics, and with the pressure of the finals sitting on his shoulders, the nerves are showing, though carefully hidden behind his standard resting face that you can see through so well. the lights hanging along the ceilings of the south paris arena cast a tasteful warm glow along the contours of his face. despite the subconscious clenched jaw and slightly downturned lips that make you want to kiss the frown off so badly, there’s a shine in his eyes like no other.

the last few days have been pretty rough, of stiff beds, subpar food and sleeping without kiyoomi. you know he feels the same if the progressively increasing frequency of late night calls and texts are any indication. with the boys sharing rooms in twos amongst themselves and the rest of the team’s staff being housed in a separate wing of the building, falling asleep in his arms was a faraway thought since you arrived at the olympic village.

loml ♡ : miya snores so fuckin’ loudly i can’t handle this me : well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dealt with it baby loml ♡ : i still think we should’ve fought harder for us sharing a room

he drifts off into slumber easily after washing up and getting his fill of talking to you (never enough), the mental and physical fatigue of matches and practices in between taking a toll on his body, but for you, being wrapped in his warm embrace was the perfect recipe and vital to a good night's sleep. it’s safe to say that you haven’t been sleeping well for the past week.

it didn’t help that being sworn to secrecy about your relationship also meant that any interactions you had with him outside being the team’s athletic trainer was like treading on eggshells. it feels like you’re in high school again, sitting next to him in the dining hall during meal times with your clasped hands hidden under the table from watchful eyes, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the back of your hand or squeezing ever so often, as if to affirm his presence and silently reassure that i’m here.

it seems to be a trend lately for athletes to be active on their social media platforms, be it their team’s or just a personal account, recounting stories or even taking avid viewers through “a day in the life of an olympic athlete” — without looking too far, even miya jumped on the bandwagon, often seeing suna running around filming short clips of their shenanigans in free pockets of time during the day. you and kiyoomi talked about it before the season began, keeping any non-professional interactions to a minimum. there’s eyes everywhere and it’s better to be safe than sorry.

both of you are very private people, it was only natural that you preferred to keep your personal life and matters to yourselves behind closed doors. this ended up being a double-edged sword, because everyone wants to be all up in your business, especially kiyoomi who finds himself in the spotlight more often, being apart of the “young handsome eligible bachelors” of the MSBY 4 and now one of the most sought-after new additions to japan’s national team.

you on the other hand, were better known by twitter as “the pretty trainer” from the shweiden adlers and now the national team, standing next to another fan-favourite, iwaizumi hajime. thankfully your role is kept more so behind the scenes, checking on the players during games and making sure they remain in tip-top shape on and off the court.

being the quiet and brooding one amongst outgoing chatterboxes meant that the media would try to dig any information out of kiyoomi, but prying interviewers and prodding questions towards him and his love life were smoothly deflected and brushed aside, the boys even coming to his defense if anyone got too pushy with it, which you were beyond thankful for. not that they needed to most of the time, he’s known to be curt with his responses and quick to bring the topic back to the game, and no one likes a snappy sakusa anyway, many have learned this the hard way.

just months prior to the both of you getting called in to begin training for the olympics and before schedules start to pick up, you had a small private wedding in your hometown with just close friends and family, the ceremony kept under lock and key and tucked away from the public eye. it made it all the more intimate, more like a quiet gathering to celebrate your union than a grand spectacle, which suited you perfectly. the honeymoon hasn’t happened yet with the timing of everything, you’re saving it for post-season when you both can finally take a break and relax for a little while.

you won’t deny that there are some days where you wished that things were different, and that you could openly express your love for each other without scrutiny and attention being on you, but alas, that is to be expected as someone exposed to the public eye.

the olympics is your first public appearance as married individuals, not that anyone particularly cares about your status, their eyes instead zeroing in on kiyoomi and the chain around his neck carrying a shiny new silver band. it's safe to say that judging by the scowl on his face and the chatter buzzing around the front rows of stands as the team settles into their side of the court, his “mystery wife" is the new talk of the town.

when he comes over to you during timeout, his eyes meet yours bashfully as you hand him a bottle, fingers brushing against yours in an unspoken apology. you just smile and lightly pat his back as he turns to join the team huddle. there’s nothing to be sorry for, silly.

these little moments mean everything to you, even though it looks like nothing in the grand scheme of things. just being there with him and coming together with a shared passion even if it's in different fields of the broader spectrum of sport, fills you with a sense of happiness and content. watching him in his element and being able to support him on the sidelines through it all, you'd never trade that for the world.

and as you’re sitting at the edge of your seat with your bum hanging on for dear life, you lean forward with your hands pressed together, the top of your index fingers resting against the tip of your nose like a pseudo prayer. match point.

it feels like you’re watching the longest rally of your life and like a bad habit, your knee begins bouncing up and down in your nervousness and anticipation. iwaizumi too, is so engrossed in the play at hand that he doesn’t notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough in this moment to stop you with his usual slap to your thigh and a chiding comment, “stop it, even my grandma back in sendai can feel the tremours from your goddamn knees.”

with bated breath, you watch kageyama tosses one beautiful arc of a set to kiyoomi as he leaps into the air and makes contact with the ball.

with a powerful spike, he is a force to be reckoned with, sending the ball home as the opponents dive to save it, their arms hands and fingers stretching out in a last ditch attempt to connect and rescue the point, but to no avail. the ball lands with a harsh thud and as he stands tall above their groveling, the whistle blows and the crowds roar.

your arms instinctively raise in a cheer, and in the next moment they’re closed over your mouth, tears pricking your eyes as you stumble over your feet and scramble to get up. as the team rushes towards him with shouts of celebration, his eyes immediately dart in your direction, softening as he sees you dashing over. with knowing smirks and crescent moons for eyes, the boys follow his line of sight and give him firm slaps on the back, parting the hoard for you and giving just enough room for him to uncharacteristically swoop you up in his arms and crash his lips into yours, all caution thrown to the wind.

all the noise halts and time stands still, everything fades away and nothing else in the world matters in the moment, not the people, not the cameras, just the overwhelming rush of joy and pride, and love, oh love, swelling from the depths of your chest and your heart bursting at its seams.

your senses flood with everything kiyoomi, from the way the sweaty strands of his hair at the back of his neck feel on your fingertips, his cheeks dampening from your tears, the nudge of his nose against yours, and the press of his smile on your locked lips. he breathes out and you breathe him in, letting all of his being rest in the room in your heart saved specially for him, seeping into every corner of your soul.

when you inevitably pull apart for air, the current predicament doesn't exactly click in your mind just yet until he grabs your hand and pulls you into his side, shielding you from the onslaught of reporters and press looking to get a fresh scoop on the hottest piece of news. with blown out eyes, you look at him in a daze and disbelief, did that really just happen?

the smug smirk on his face says it all.

the matching silver bands on your finger and hanging around his neck, it was always there. for the longest time it was your little secret, and now a declaration of love and devotion — not even a shiny new gold medal could compare.

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.