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lily-blue · 2 days

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13 reasons why | reason no.13: the coffee shop is kid-friendly

☆ characters: potter!joshua & single-mom!you (Seori - ‘94 liner) ☆ genre: coffee shop au, single parent au, slice of life, angst, fluff ☆ warnings: distorted views on single parenthood ☆ summary: after you become a single mom, you think relationships are off the table; too bad your daughter doesn’t agree with you ☆ words: 21k ☆ a/n: this story also has a uniform header on my laptop; i will update this post with the correct header once i put my hands on said laptop (i also didn't have the time to proofread the chapter beyond the first scene, but i promised to put this out in april, so here we are... i will get to beta-reading when i get to it, please bear with the quality for now) ☆ taglist: @dat-town

➼ chapter index

When you had been younger - a tad too wild and carefree for someone who had been in her high school senior year in South Korea -, you had thought that being told that your partner had cheated on you was the worst way a relationship could end. However, in your early twenties, you had come to realise that your ideas and beliefs had been unrealistic and sheltered because of your late grandmother’s efforts to give you the same childhood she had failed to give to your father, and that real life was more unfair than you could have ever comprehended. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been forced to leave a loving relationship five months pregnant.

It had been a little over seven years since your break-up with Inwoo, and you did a fabulous job at keeping your daughter’s biological father’s identity a secret. The only people who knew about Haeun’s connection to the prestigious In family were your ex-boyfriend, his mother and your best friend, Seola, who was bound by an NDA just like you in order to ensure neither of you got greedy and tried to harm the chaebols’ reputation. As if you had ever done anything to hurt the man who had made you believe you could have had your own Cinderella story. As if money and power could have ever been more important to you than emotional security and happiness.

But then again, Inwoo’s mother might have thought differently of you. After all, you had agreed to receive monthly child support from a bank account that couldn’t have been linked to her and her son in exchange for your silence. You might have been naive back then, but you had already known that just you and your grandmother wouldn’t have been able to provide the best life for your child.

As you looked at your adorable, six-and-a-half-year-old daughter who was shifting her body weight from one leg to the other in front of you, you tried not to think of your conversation with her homeroom teacher, Haeun’s endless questions about your family’s weird structure since they had learned about family and friends in school or how much she resembled her father. You might not have had childish delusions anymore about Inwoo finding his way back to you, but you also couldn’t have just forgotten the gentleness in his eyes and the happiness he had radiated each and every time he had been talking about marrying you and your growing family. He would have been an amazing father, and you could only hope that you were a good enough mother as well. It surely couldn’t have made you a horrible mom that you couldn’t find a babysitter for your little one last minute. What mattered was that you were trying your best.

Goodness, you sure hoped these inconvenient occasions and your lack of resources wouldn’t cause your daughter a childhood trauma. People these days were talking about those a lot and as a single parent who cared too much, the possibility made you unhealthily self-conscious. If only you had been more hard-working, more ambitious when you had been younger. You should have listened to your teachers and your grandmother and applied for university like everyone else in your high school.

You shook your head and took a step closer to the counter as the person in front of the barista got her order. One more couple to go and it would be finally your turn to purchase your usual cinnamon roll frappuccino.

‘Mom! See! See! See!’ Your daughter exclaimed when her eyes fell on the delicious cakes behind the glass display, her height only allowing her to marvel at the products on the lowest metal shelf.

Initially, your plan had been to leave her with your neighbour for those six long hours you would be away from home, but Min was still a university student and he had exams to study for, which would have been significantly more difficult with a six-and-a-half-year-old whose curiosity was seemingly endless. Your conscience hadn’t allowed you to ask for such a huge favour, as you didn’t want to undermine his studies. With your tiring part-time jobs, you knew exactly how important that piece of paper was in your society. And he would have had a hard time saying no if you had insisted.

It was the light tug on your pants that pulled you back to the present; your daughter was quick to address the barista behind the counter even though she could barely reach it on her tiptoes. Her swinging pigtails were flying back and forth as she tried to keep her balance and ask for a frog-shaped cookie.

‘That’s a pretty big cookie. Are you sure you can eat the whole thing?’ The barista played along while you were trying to figure out which dessert had caught Haeun’s attention, since you couldn’t see any cookies on the lowest shelf. Hm, maybe she was talking about the extra large cupcake cake that consisted of six individual cupcakes and formed a cartoon-style frog. According to the card in front of it, it was for two people and could be ordered for special occasions in advance in various shapes and sizes.

You made a mental note to ask the barista about this offer the next time you came to Coffee Carat, because you thought Haeun would have enjoyed a cake like this for her birthday in August, which was in a bit over three months.

‘I’m a big girl,’ she insisted, some of her words slurred together due to the emphasis she tried to put on just how old she was. It made your lips curl upwards; you ruffled her bangs before you looked at the barista. Luckily, he seemed more amused than annoyed by your daughter’s behaviour.

‘Come here, big girl,’ you crouched down to pick the little girl up, so she could see the other dessert options as well. Then, you pointed at the single cupcake on the uppest shelf, the one that depicted a similarly styled cartoon frog’s face. ‘What about this one? This looks just as cute, doesn’t it?’ You negotiated, unbothered by other people’s opinion of your relationship with your daughter. Deep in your heart you knew you weren’t spoiling her just because you cared and constantly encouraged her to communicate about her likes and dislikes openly.

Was what you were doing controversial in your country? More or less, especially amongst the older generation. However, Haeun was your daughter (and your daughter alone) and you tried to raise her in a way you believed was the best for her in the long run.

‘I think…’ the little girl started, then stopped abruptly like she always did when there was a big decision waiting for her to make. You watched her as she jutted her lower lip out with the most serious facial expression a six-and-a-half-year-old could make. ‘Yes, I like this one,’ Haeun said before she asked you to put her down.

Not wasting a second more - just because you disregarded the judgemental mumbles and soft snorts didn’t mean you didn’t know some of the customers behind you were rather inpatient -, you gave your order to the smiley barista and fished your wallet out of your backpack so you could pay. You actually had a separate bank card in it with all the child support money on for expenses related to Haeun, but you always used your hard-earned salary when it came to such tiny treats. Her grandmother’s fortune was only for emergencies and bigger investments, not to mention that university tuitions got more and more expensive these days. You should have stayed mindful of her savings even if your best friend liked to remind you of Inwoo’s wealth. You couldn’t guarantee and you shouldn’t have expected your daughter to snatch one of those fancy scholarships that covered students’ rent and living expenses as well.

‘Miss,’ the barista called out for you between two forced coughs, indicating that it wasn’t the first or second time he had tried to gain your attention. A bit sheepish, you looked him in the eye, silently asking him to repeat his words again. ‘Here is your change.’

‘Oh! Thank you,’ you mumbled under your nose, cursing yourself mentally for letting your thoughts wander in front of so many people. However, you simply couldn’t have helped it. Ever since Haeun’s homeroom teacher had mentioned to you the English summer camp for the kids, you were constantly thinking about money. What you should have prioritised, where you should have drawn the line when it came to your daughter’s wishes, whether you should have touched the money you were saving for her future or just cut into your own savings.

‘Of course. Here is the little one’s cupcake. The frappuccino will be ready in a minute,’ the barista informed you with a kind smile and gave you a small paper bag with the shop’s logo on it.

You stepped aside to give room for the next customer.

To kill some time, you fixed your daughter’s messy clothes and pigtails, then let her distract you with her endless tales about her elementary school days because she was only in first grade when most kids were still very excited to learn new things about the world.

Haeun was in the middle of an unnecessarily detailed story about a classmate who always sat on the benches during PE class and never spoke to anyone when your phone started to ring and the voices in your head reminded you that you couldn’t afford to not take it. You hadn’t sent in your application for tens of thousands of jobs in the past eight months to ignore a call - a potential first or second round interview.

‘One cinnamon roll frappuccino to go,’ the barista recited your order the very next second, both delaying your response to the caller and giving you a chance to ask for a tiny favour. So you quickly stepped closer to the counter and reached out for your drink.

‘Thank you. Could you please keep an eye on my daughter for a couple of minutes. She is a smart kid and knows not to go anywhere without me. It’s really just making sure people don’t try to give her anything they shouldn’t or talk her into going anywhere with them,’ you asked under one breath, hoping that your lengthy ramble didn’t annoy the guy too much. You might have been a customer, but he wasn’t obligated to cater to your wishes to this extent.

Still, he took one quick look at your buzzing phone, then at your daughter and nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world.

‘Don’t worry about her. I will keep her company while you take that call,’ someone on your left said and you couldn’t have snapped your head in her direction quicker.

The woman who was speaking to you couldn’t have been that much older than you if she had been older in the first place. Her dark brown hair grazed her shoulders in soft waves while her clothes were on the more messy side: an oversized tee and a khaki overall. At first glance, she looked approachable and kind; however, you didn’t know her and you were wary of leaving Haeun in her care (even though, technically, you didn’t know the barista, either).

‘I’m sorry. That must have sounded so creepy, let me rephrase it,’ the woman spoke up again, and by this time your grip on your phone was so tight as if a part of you believed you could hold onto the person on the other side by crashing the device.

You gulped, visibly impatient, but gave her a chance to explain herself.

‘My name is Hoyeon and I’m the wife of the owner. I was just about to go over to Freefall for some biscuits, but then I overheard your conversation and couldn’t not think that I have more time to spear than Seungkwan,’ she said, her smile more understanding than anything despite the way you sneaked a glance at the barista to double-check her claim.

As soon as the boy nodded, you bit into your lower lip and crouched down next to Haeun, to check whether she would have been comfortable with staying with Hoyeon.

‘I need to take this call, sugar. Can you be a good girl for me and stay with Hoyeon-ssi?’ You asked her, waiting for a nod or any sign that could have indicated that she wanted to stay with you instead, in which case she should have stayed super still and quiet until the end of your conversation unlike last time when you had accidentally written down the wrong time for an interview because she had been excited to show you the rainbow on the wall.

‘Long call?’ Your daughter asked with a tiny little pout on her lips, giving you the motherly urge to pinch her baby face; you did not resist.

‘Yes, a long call,’ you said; your voice was apologetic and so were your eyes, although your phone stopped ringing a moment later, the possibility of another missed opportunity stressing you out.

‘Okay,’ Haeun agreed to stay behind, sneakily eyeing your backpack where you had shoved the paper bag and with that, the frog cupcake into right after you had paid. Her request made you smile even before she opened her mouth. ‘Can I eat the cake now?’ She asked, tilting her head to the right like her aunt Seola always did when she wanted to get or do something you disapproved of. These two were spending too much time together it seemed.

‘You can,’ you gave in easily, the backpack already halfway off your shoulder. ‘But you need to promise me to not leave the coffee shop, okay? Not even with Hoyeon-ssi,’ you made her promise, using the unbreakable seal: your pinkies.

‘Promise,’ Haeun gave you her word, too, which eased your worries somewhat, reassuring you that you weren’t making the wrong decision despite how ridiculous that was. If someone wanted to harm a six-and-a-half-year-old, it hardly mattered whether the little one was cooperative.

Letting out a sigh, you quickly walked out of the shop and pulled up your call history to open the last caller’s details. You counted to three, five, ten to calm yourself a little, then tapped on the green icon. The person on the other side picked it up for the third ring.

‘Good morning. My name is Jin Jaehyuk from Wrap It Up,’ the man introduced himself in a pleasant voice, asking you whether he was talking to one of the candidates for their driver position, which you eagerly confirmed.

Before seeing their ad on Seola’s windshield a week ago, you had never considered applying for a driver job; however, the salary was almost twice as much as you were currently making and that alone made up for the possible shortcomings that company could have. The cleaner job you currently had pushed those bars really low if you wanted to be honest. At this point, you would have taken anything that didn’t drain you dry by the end of every damn shift.

The conversation with the HR representative was overall pleasant. He asked you about your work experience, how frequently you drove, whether you had your own car and if so, what type so he could find the most suitable company car for you in case you got hired. And lastly, of course, he wanted to know the reason why you had considered their position. Before you realised, you were already talking for twenty minutes, completely disregarding the buzzing of the street and the customers leaving and entering the coffee shop.

Hopeful about a second round interview, you slid your phone into your pocket, then went back to Coffee Carat, just for your soft smile to be stolen by the most terrifying sight that could have greeted you: your daughter sitting on the lap of a man you had never met before. You didn’t think, not really, when you ran up to them and tore the little girl out of his hands.

‘Who are you? And who gave you the permission to touc—’

‘Mooooom,’ Haeun put her tiny hands in your mouth, successfully blocking your accusations with her fingers. Confused and frustrated, you furrowed your brows and looked down at your daughter, visibly asking for an explanation, which she delivered after a huff. ‘Jisoo oppa is Hoyeon unnie’s friend. We were watching Encanto and you ruined the best part,’ she whined like you were the real bad guy in her story instead of the stranger who was caging her with his arms mere seconds prior.

You adjusted your position - shifted her weight in your arms so you could hold her with only one arm - and took her hands out of your mouth.

‘Kim Haeun, I told you not to be friendly with strangers,’ you scolded her a tad too loudly - something you would have definitely regretted later at night when you were on your own in your bed, thinking back on the day’s happenings, but at that moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you simply couldn’t. Seeing her with a man your age had scared you, especially because it had been you who had left her alone, so if someone had happened to her, you would have had no one else to blame but yourself.

‘But he is not,’ your daughter insisted. ‘He is Hoyeon unnie’s friend. He’s also Seungkwan oppa’s friend. And he knows the oppa who made the frog cake, the bake,’ she counted all the people she was talking about on her tiny fingers, shoving her three fingers into your face at the end of her monologue.

You pressed your lips together to avoid an accidental scream and took a deep breath through your nose instead. This was when the stranger walked up to you and cleared his throat to gain your attention.

‘I’m sorry for scaring you. My name is Hong Jisoo and I’m close friends with the employees and the shop owner, so when Hoyeon had to go to the toilet, I offered to entertain the little lady since I’m still waiting for my coffee,’ he explained, shooting a reassuring smile towards your daughter that made you feel weird. Not necessarily because he looked like a creep, but because Haeun was suddenly on her best behaviour, beaming at the guy. ‘I can assure you that we were introduced to each other before she sat on my lap. She didn’t break any rules, right, princess?’

‘Haeun is a good girl,’ she puffed her chest out proudly while she tilted her head towards the stranger, Jisoo, who rewarded her with a pat on the head.

As you were watching the scene, you wondered whether this was your female lead moment in real life: a single mom whose daughter basically claimed a random handsome stranger as her oppa in the middle of a lovely coffee shop. You swore, one of the more talented screenplay writers could have built a very nice drama around it.

Except, Hong Jisoo was undeniably taken if the blonde girl who kissed his lips in front of Haeun was anything to go by.

‘Baby, can we go now? You know I need a new bikini for our vacation with the guys,’ she said, pulling on the guy’s arm like even a moment more in your company would have been a waste of her time.

You almost failed to swallow down your chuckle when you heard your daughter scoff at the newcomer. Almost.

‘It’s time for us to go, too,’ you exclaimed politely to draw the girlfriend’s attention away from Haeun and pulled the little girl more into your embrace to block her line of vision. You hadn’t been born yesterday. You knew that Haeun would have given this young woman the stinky eye for clinging onto her new friend if you had let her. She definitely spent too much time with her auntie. ‘I apologise for my reaction. Thank you for looking after her.’

‘It was my pleasure, no worries,’ Jisoo reassured you before one of the baristas called for his name and he walked up to the counter with his girlfriend hot on his heels.

Soon after getting his hands on his order, he was dragged out of the building. And you tried not to think too much into how it was only May, which was way too early for a vacation in your dictionary. It only made you feel poor because it just meant you had never been to any countries before where the weather was warm enough for a bikini so early into the year.

Since Haeun insisted on saying goodbye to all of her new friends, it took you a bit longer to leave the shop, but you did so with a bunch of free cupcakes (the baker assistant had messed up the frosting on a full tray of desserts in the morning and the baker, whose name you learned was Mingyu, was unwilling to put them behind the class display anyway) and a ‘See you later, princess!’ that you didn’t know what to do with.

Had your daughter just been adopted by all the employees of Coffee Carat? It felt surreal, but then again, Haeun spent an awful lot of time with Seola these days, so you shouldn’t have been too surprised. That woman was a minx. Of course, she had taught your daughter how to wrap the whole world around her fingers.

You made a mental note to pay more attention to whom she interacted with in the future. She was still too young to pick up on malicious intentions. And while that day the two of you were lucky, there wasn’t any guarantee that next time you would be too.

You weren’t a homewrecker. The concept alone made you feel disgust and fury because even though you had never been cheated on, you could resonate with the grief one felt when their significant other was taken away from them. Still, when your daughter kept nagging you that she wanted to go back to Coffee Carat to visit her Jisoo oppa and Hoyeon unnie, you could only stand your ground for about a week.

You wished you had been half as stubborn as the little one. Then, maybe you wouldn’t have sounded like a broken record when you asked about Jisoo from the baristas for the nth time in such a short period of time like a sasaeng.

‘Oppa!’ You heard your daughter scream from the top of her lungs the moment the man set foot in the coffee shop and you had half a mind to hit your forehead against the table and run, but you stayed seated. At least, Haeun didn’t run to him without asking for your permission. She was just waving at him furiously with her pink crayon still in her hand.

In that nanosecond when it felt like everyone was looking at you and Jisoo’s eyes were yet to find the source of the scream, you came up with a semi-well-thought-out masterplan to put an end to your daughter delusions, but all the excuses and explanation were thrown out the window when the man smiled at the two of you. He said something to the grumpy barista behind the counter, then walked up to you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Yeah, you definitely had to have a conversation with him and Haeun about this situation before your daughter got too attached to him or rumours got back to his girlfriend about you looking for Jisoo at every chance you got.

‘In that an elephant?’ The man asked your daughter, who immediately sensed the green light and started to talk about her drawing in much more detail than it would have been necessary. She even took her time to mention the baby elephant’s family and how she was attending the elephant school with her friends. She had a natural talent for storytelling and she lived off of the undivided attention Jisoo was giving her with his random questions.

The moment your brain aided you with the mental image of Haeun doing the same with her real dad, you knew it was time for you to put an end to their fun. It was too much, the way their casual conversation was messing with your head, making you see things that had never happened. (And would have never happened despite Inwoo’s love for his unborn child.)

You pinched into your lower arm hard under the table and reached out for Haeun’s hand to remind her of your presence. Her big doe eyes, when he snapped her head in your direction, were adorable. She looked almost surprised that you were also listening to her story.

‘Sugar, can mom speak with oppa, too, for a second?’ You asked, inwardly cringing at the title, because the man was not your brother, your close friend or your lover. However, Haeun liked to refer to him as her oppa, so it made things easier. You would apologise for your rude behaviour later, right after you apologised for your daughter’s obsession with him.

‘Okay,’ Haeun agreed with a small nod as she turned back to her drawing and returned her focus to the elephant school. She hummed along with the radio like she knew the song they were playing even though you rarely let her listen to this type of music and poked her tongue out in concentration. These were clear signs that she wasn’t interested in whatever you had to say to her new friend.

‘Would you mind if I picked up your order with you? I could also use some more caffeine,’ you asked, hoping that he could read between the lines and realise that you wanted to be out of earshot from your daughter while you were talking. You wanted both of you to be able to speak your mind about how you thought you should have handled the issue with Haeun. You didn’t wish to hear his fake words regarding his bond with your daughter, but you also hated the idea of breaking the little girl’s heart when she had been so excited about meeting this man again.

‘Sure, you can even use my discount card,’ he offered with a small laugh while you stood up and pushed your now-empty chair closer to the table, so it wouldn’t be in the way for other customers in your absence.

It would have been a lie to say that the offer wasn’t tempting. You liked coupons and things in general that helped you save money, but it felt like a boundary you shouldn’t have crossed. He had already put up with a lot when it came to you and your tiny family and you barely knew more than a handful of things about him: his name, his relationship status, the fact that he and his girlfriend would go on a vacation in the near future and that he had a lot of friends who worked in this particular coffee shop.

Jisoo must have come to the same conclusion during your short walk, too, because as soon as you stood in the line, he turned towards you and said:

‘Now that I think about it, I don’t think I caught your name last time.’

The bluntness of his statement made you laugh without meaning to, so you needed a couple of seconds to get back in your more serious mood, the one that you hadn’t possessed before you had turned into a mother. Six years in, and you still struggled to change between these two personas naturally. If anything, your effort must have looked comically forced because of how quickly your facial expression turned from carefree to firm.

Cursing yourself inwardly and simultaneously acting like you hadn’t noticed the surprise on Jisoo’s face, you straightened your back and told him your name. Your introduction was curt; you didn’t share any unnecessary information with the smiley man, that made you sound like you would have rather jumped in front of a bus than befriend him, which obviously wasn’t true. You would have never risked leaving your baby girl behind. You were her only family.

‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ Jisoo reached his hand out for a handshake that - because of your obvious confusion - served as a nice conversation starter: something that your introduction had clearly failed to be.

Impressed by how effortlessly he connected seemingly unrelated topics to each other, you let him tell you about his upbringing (apparently, he had been born in the United States), when he had come to South Korea and how he had met the guys (he had been minding his own business at a club in his second year in uni when Jeonghan had splashed ice-cold water at his face for allegedly stealing the barstool on his right from a cute girl who had been totally into him) and many other things you wouldn’t have considered sharing with a stranger. Anyhow, he clearly wasn’t of the same opinion, and you didn’t know how to make him stop without coming off as an ungrateful jackass.

‘And now Seungcheol is already married, and I’m pretty sure Jeonghan will ask Yoohyeon to marry him this year…’ he trailed off my the end of the end of his monologue with something akin to longing in his voice, although you couldn’t have been a hundred percent sure. It also wasn’t your place to be curious. Whether he had wanted the same commitment with his girl or not, whether it had ever caused fights between the two of them…

No, it wasn’t your business, you absolutely, utterly, wholly refused to make it yours.

However, Jisoo didn’t give you much of a choice; there were two more customers between you and the counter.

‘I’m happy for them. Actually, I’m happy for everyone. Would you believe it if I told you that two and a half years ago all thirteen of us were singles?’ He asked with a low chuckle before he dove into yet another story you had never asked about: how it had all started with Cheol, Hoyeon and this coffee shop.

‘Actually, what I wanted to talk about is related to Hoyeon-ssi,’ you cut him off at the first chance you got even though your daughter’s fascination with him wasn’t as related to the woman as you made it sound. It was a rather desperate attempt at taking control over the conversation without wasting the time you had in relative private. ‘You see, Haeun-ah has this misconception that everyone in this coffee shop - but especially you - is her new best friend, and I think we should find a way to break it down to her that it’s not how life works.’

‘Why not?’ Jisoo asked without a moment of hesitation, confusing you enough to make you stumble over your own words.

You furrowed your brows and pursed your lips as you were looking at him.

‘What do you mean why not?’ You asked once you found your voice again, letting him pull you towards the counter by your elbow gently in the meantime. Too fixed on waiting for his answer, you barely registered the movement.

‘Why doesn’t life work like that? I’m pretty sure everyone’s best friend was a stranger at one point,’ the man said and you furrowed your brows even more. Sure, what he was saying was on point, but that wasn’t what you had meant at all. What you had wanted to say was that your daughter should have been told that grown men and women didn’t form meaningful friendships with random children who weren’t related to them.

‘Yeah, I mean, it’s not like I can argue with that or want to argue with that to begin with, but the possibility of any of you staying in my daughter’s life is pretty unlikely, and I also don’t want her to want to come here too frequently to play with you when it’s your workplace,’ you said, proud of how coherent your reasons fell from your lips.

There was no way Jisoo could have misunderstood you again. At least, that was what you had thought until he opened his mouth and pointed it out that:

‘This shop isn’t my workplace.’

‘O-okay. It’s still not the point,’ you retorted, a bit more irritated than you would have liked to be, since you were not only in public but only a few metres from your daughter whom you didn’t want to show a bad example. Still, your urge to shake some sense into this man was growing exponentially. ‘Haeun-ah was trying to convince me for a week to bring her back here so she could play with you guys and I have a hard time saying no to her when she is so determined. I need your help to make her understand she is making you guys uncomfortable.’

‘Well, I can only speak for myself, but she doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. Mingyu was also happy to meet her and Seungkwan’s girlfriend was complaining the other day that she couldn’t meet her…’ he trailed off by the end of his sentence as though he wasn’t sure he should have kept going. You couldn’t put your fingers on the hesitation in his eyes until he took a breath and continued. ‘Isn’t it that she makes you feel uncomfortable?’

You didn’t know what to say to that. Because the possibility hadn’t even occurred to you until the accusation more or less intentionally hit you in the face. Was your daughter’s behaviour affecting you more negatively than anyone else? Could it have been that you made everything a bigger deal than it was because you were embarrassed by how freely she showed her liking for others while you tried to close yourself off from new people to not get hurt again?

‘Hey…’ Jisoo’s unexpectedly soft voice pulled you out of your head, and he offered you an apologetic smile as soon as your eyes refocused on him. ‘I didn’t mean to sound rude. It’s just that… you worry too much. Your daughter is adorable and she didn’t do anything wrong. She is free to come hang out with us in the shop on less busy days. To hang out with me,’ he reassured you while he also took you by the elbow again, leading you up to the counter. Oh! He was surprisingly good at keeping tabs on his surroundings. You hadn’t even realised it was finally your turn to order, too stunned by his opinion about the issue you had clearly blown out of proportion.

‘Hi guys! What can I get for you?’ One of the female baristas asked at the same time Jisoo tried to ease the kinks in your shoulders with a light-hearted comment.

‘Who knows? She might get bored of us in a month or two. Adults aren’t as exciting as they should with all that money and freedom,’ he joked, bumping his upper hand into yours with an easy-going smile.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

‘I…’

He was right. It might have taken your daughter two years to grow out of her Cinnamonroll and Kuromi obsession, it might have taken her half a year to not request chocolate cake for dessert every time she had had the chance, but she had indeed moved on with time. If you were lucky, she would get over this place sooner than her lost teddy bear she had cried over for three weeks last year.

‘It’s just the usual for me, Yeseo. And some…’ Jisoo turned towards you. ‘What would you like to drink?’

‘Me? I…’ The shock on your face shouldn’t have been as visible as it was, but you couldn’t help it. You just hoped neither Jisoo nor the girl behind the counter had enough nunchi to read you like an open book and question your sanity. Like seriously, why were you so damn speechless just because he wanted to order for you and seemingly didn’t mind hanging out with your daughter to protect her childlike innocence.

The bar was seriously low with you, wasn’t it?

You quickly cleared your throat and straightened your already straight back.

‘I’ll have a caramel latte, thank you,’ you chose, one hundred percent intending to pay for your own drink when your phone started to ring in your pocket out of the blue. Sure, you had a couple of ongoing applications still, but they were either too old to hear back from them or too new.

Afraid that it might have been your best friend who was, for some reason once again, in trouble, you fished the device out of your jeans and looked at the screen with a throbbing knot in your throat. It was a number you had never seen before.

You looked at Jisoo then the barista, not sure how much you owned for the latte and when you should have told the girl that you wanted a sandwich and an animal-themed cupcake, too.

‘I think you should take it. Might be important,’ Jisoo pointed at your phone, his smile soft just like his eyes. If your head hadn’t been full of to-dos, worries and usual single mom stuff already, you might have had to actively remind yourself that he was taken.

Why was he so nice to you?

‘I’ll be back in a second,’ you promised at the end because you soon came to the conclusion that asking him to order for Haeun and you some food, too, would have been too complicated with the little time you had before the other person gave up on contacting you. You would just buy them after the call. ‘Thanks.’

Taking a few steps towards the double doors, you remained inside the coffee shop this time; however, you made sure you weren’t in the way to any of the staff members and customers and that the buzzing of the business wasn’t too loud around you, so you wouldn’t misheard any important piece of information.

The call barely took two minutes; the man on the other side of the line got down to business as soon as you introduced yourself and he double-checked your identity. It turned out, there were three group job interviews happening in an hour at their company building, which two people had cancelled at the last minute. HR decided to contact those candidates who had almost made it into the second round and gave them a chance to charm them in person. You were one of the lucky ones in case you could make it in time.

Their location was thirty minutes plus minus five from Coffee Carat. There was no way you would have turned down such an opportunity even if you believed you were at a disadvantage compared to the majority of the interviewees.

It was when you put your phone away and turned around that you suddenly remembered that you should have calculated a detour into your route when you had agreed to the interview. After all, Haeun was sitting by your table, colouring with Jisoo while munching on a piece of cake that shouldn’t have been in front of her to begin with.

You rushed up to the duo like a madwoman.

‘Haeun-ah. We need to go,’ you rushed her, crouching down next to her chair to be more at eye level with her. It usually helped with conceiving her to do something she might not have liked because she felt like you were taking her seriously. Like she was a big girl who could understand certain things babies couldn’t.

This time; however, this trick didn’t seem to work. The cheesecake in front of her was too distracting, and so was Jisoo’s presence who had gotten a blank paper and some crayons in the meantime.

‘No! We can stay until dinner. Mom, you promised,’ she objected, holding onto the light pink crayon so firmly, her tiny little knuckles turned white.

You bit into your cheek from the inside to not scold her for making it hard for you when you didn’t have that much time to spare. It was your own decision to raise her the way you were raising her: allowing her to have an opinion and when safe, the freedom of choice. Still, it would have been nice if she had just gone along with your wish without the need to give her an explanation why you wanted to have a new job. She obviously wasn’t ready for any topic at that maturity level - even if you hadn’t gone into too much detail.

You wished you had more people to rely on when it came to these matters. Sure, you would have never regretted becoming a single mom, but for the love of God, you did miss Inwoo on days like this one.

‘I can stay with her for an hour or two. And I’m pretty sure the guys could also keep an eye on her in case something came up, which is highly unlikely,’ Jisoo offered. He lifted his hand to his mouth and lowered his voice as he whispered-shouted as if he was sharing a big secret with both you and your daughter. ‘I’m my own boss.’

‘Thank you, but I really shoul—,’

‘Yey! Please, mom, please! I want to stay with Jisoo oppa,’ Haeun exclaimed, totally hyped due to the idea as she was jumping up and down on the chair with her upper body. One glance at her happy smile was enough for you to realise that forbidding her to stay and taking her to your best friend after the man had already agreed to play with her would have been disastrous. In the best case scenario, she would have cried her eyes out while you carried her in your arms.

In the worst, you would have been the bad guy for at least an entire week and received the attitude a little longer. You wished Jisoo had discussed this with you in advance now that he made it clear that he didn’t intend to pop the little girl’s pink bubble as you had suggested slash requested a few minutes prior.

It was hard to be grateful when you were also rightfully frustrated.

But dealing with these two was future-you’s problem. Present-you had an interview to attend to.

So you took the nth deep breath in less than five minutes and stood up from the ground. Then, you leaned down to kiss the top of your daughter’s head as a goodbye while making her promise to be on her best behaviour.

‘Here!’ Jisoo pushed a paper cup into your free hand when you were about to walk up to your laptop and turn it off so it wouldn’t have unnecessarily died on you while you were away. ‘I heard you double checking the time for the interview and asked Yeseo to put your latte in a paper cup instead,’ he explained, pointing at the side of the container with a pleased smile on his face. ‘I also wrote down my kakao ID, so you could add me and check on Haeun in case you’re worried or something.’

It was the most thoughtful thing a stranger had ever done to you; it was something none of your family members had done to you since your grandmother’s passing and that alone… It blew out the flickering flames of your anger.

Your voice was quiet but genuinely grateful when you thanked him. You packed your bag and left.

You didn’t contact Jisoo until you got to the location, but his reassurance and those photos he sent you with your daughter, both of them cheering on you with their fists raised for a lively “hwaiting”, took tons off your chest as you were sitting in the waiting room with ten other people.

You might not have been the most talkative or most well-dressed person at the interview, but you really believed that you did an amazing job at charming the HR representatives. And it was all thanks to Jisoo and his willingness to act as your temporary safety-net.

Walking out of the company building, you knew you couldn’t refer to him as a stranger any longer. He also deserved some compensation for his help. You just had to figure out what to do for him to pay off some of the imaginary debt.

Although the thought to buy Jisoo a cake for basically babysitting your daughter for free had crossed your mind, you had quickly come to the conclusion on your way back to the coffee shop that paying for sweets at his friend’s business might have been a better option. This way the money would have gone to someone he knew. Literal perfection.

Your almost childlike excitement was apparent in the way you entered Coffee Carat around two and a half hours after leaving your daughter with Jisoo. Your steps were lighter and your smile a tad wider than they usually were until your gaze fell on the empty table Haeun should have sat by and you recognised her pitched voice coming from a different one.

‘Take back! Take back! Take back!’ She screamed at a man you had never met before while both Jisoo and another unfamiliar person watched her hit the blond man’s upper hand once, twice, three times in less than ten seconds.

Your eyes grew wide in horror as you rushed up to the table, pulling the little girl away from the understandably annoyed stranger.

‘Kim Haeun!’ You raised your voice on purpose, to make her realise that she was in trouble for screaming and fighting someone so aggressively when you had raised her better. If this man had done anything wrong, she should have stayed away from him and asked for help from someone she knew she could trust.

Which reminded you of…

‘I’m so sorry for my daughter’s behaviour…’ you bowed your head at the blond man first and foremost, then turned towards Jisoo who was sitting across from him, undoubtedly enjoying himself. At least, he had been clearly doing so until your eyes met and the smile fell from his lips. ‘Can you tell me what’s going on?’

‘The bad man said bad things about Jisoo oppa,’ your daughter claimed, her pitched voice making it obvious that she felt upset about whatever this man had told her about her new best friend.

‘Sugar, please let them explain themselves first,’ you asked her, hoping that the nickname you always used to make her feel special helped soothe her nerves a little and if not, at least she realised you weren’t as angry with her as you had been when you had arrived. You still didn’t support violence, but you could also acknowledge that sometimes it was hard to contain one’s feelings, especially when it came to standing up for people they liked.

‘Sawry,’ she mumbled into the crook of your neck, suddenly a bit shy even though you could feel her head moving a little as though she was trying to steal glances at the three people at the table without you noticing.

She was definitely spending too much time with her aunt.

‘Hello. I’m Haeun’s mother. Can I ask who you are and what did you say that upset my daughter so much? You see, she isn’t usually a violent child, so I’m a little surprised, that’s all,’ you tried to be as polite as possible while also demanding an explanation. If you did, you did not intend to sound like one of those entitled parents who believed their children could do no wrong, but on the other hand, you had this inner urge to take Haeun-ah’s side until she was proven guilty.

‘I’m Jeonghan, Joshua’s best friend. I was just asking him about his relationship since Cheol is already out and I want a free vacation. Nothing upsetting, really,’ the blond man informed you, his smug smile making him sound that much less sincere. If you wanted to be honest, you had a hard time believing that he was telling the truth, but it was also true that you didn’t understand everything that had left his mouth.

‘Who is Joshua?’ You asked, although what you really wanted to know was: why would his relationship have upset your daughter?

‘Your babysitter?’ The man threw the question at you instead of answering before he snapped his head in Jisoo’s direction like he wanted the other to come forward and confess.

You also wished he had spoken up without further nagging and explained what was going on. Was this man his best friend? If so, how were the two of them related to the quiet, blonde woman and how his relationship could have given this man a free vacation?

No answer should have come with as many more questions as Jeonghan’s explanation did.

‘Yeah… That’s me. Jisoo is my Korean name, but most people call me Joshua actually. It’s my American name, I’m sorry,’ he cleared up the misunderstanding before he introduced his friends to you, bringing up stories he had already shared with you, so you could link their faces to their names and personalities more easily.

It didn’t help a lot, but you didn’t bother to enlighten him, because you were afraid to break his flow. At least, he was willing to answer all of your questions, which was a moderately good sign.

‘The bad man said oppa’s a ship acid, but it’s a lie! He has to take it and say sorry!’ Haeun chirped in in the middle of Jisoo - or Joshua, as most people apparently knew him around here - introducing Yoohyeon-ssi to you. The woman who was his friend’s girlfriend; the very same woman who would soon be asked to marry the blonde man if you had recalled the most recent story you had heard about these two.

Turning your head towards your daughter, you furrowed your brows. She looked so upset, like genuinely upset by Jeonghan’s comment on Jisoo that you didn’t have the heart to ask her to repeat what she had heard nor could you inquire whether she knew what acid meant in the first place.

‘Wrong,’ Jeonghan tsked, narrowing his eyes at your little girl like he was seriously trying to challenge her to call him a liar one more time. ‘I said he’s a relationship addict, because he is. This girl - whose name I don’t even bother to memorise anymore - is his third girlfriend this year,’ he claimed, and when your eyes met and you showed no judgement or bewilderment, he used one of his hands to give emphasis to his reasoning. ‘We aren’t even halfway through this year!’

As you were shifting your gaze from Jeonghan to Jisoo, then to the blonde woman who was hovering over her laptop, fingers quick as lightning on the keyboard, the only thing you could think about was: well, that made a lot more sense than “ship acid”, didn’t it?

‘Jeonghan, please,’ Jisoo’s firm scolding fell from his lips the same moment Haeun started to yell from the top of her lungs:

‘Take it! Take it! You big liar!’

You had never wished more that the ground would split in two and swallow you at whole. Because while you understood that what your daughter wanted to say was “take it back”, you were pretty sure the majority of those who were giving you the judgemental stare and stinky eyes thought that Haeun-ah was already unhinged, at the tender age of six.

You hated only a few things less than misunderstandings.

‘Sugar, please stop picking fights,’ you warned the little lady, slowly putting her down on the floor so the unexpected change in height could calm her down a little. ‘Screaming at people and hitting them are also bad,’ you reminded her as soon as you crouched down at her level, simultaneously squeezing her little hand to make sure she knew you weren’t angry at her. She had every right to be upset. You would have never invalidated her feelings.

(Your parents had talked down to you while you had been still living with them too many times to even consider giving the same treatment to your own child.)

‘He says sorry, too,’ she demanded with a pout, having enough shame in her to stare at her feet instead of looking up at you, which made you a tad conflicted, because you would have liked to see her eyes. It always made it easier to read her - a skill quite handy when one had to raise a child.

You took a deep breath through your nose and tilted her head upwards with your index finger under her chin.

‘Okay. Let’s act like we are big girls and apologise first, hm?’ You said, phrasing it like a question to let her make the right decision consciously, so the next time anything like this happened, she would remember what to do. Guiding her through these experiences always worked better than forcing her to do the right thing.

It took her a few seconds, but eventually, Haeun nodded and turned towards the blond man with her entire body. Her tiny arms were pressed against her sides as she bent her back in a 90-degree angle, over-emphasising her politeness. You bit into your lower lip to not scold her for overdoing it on purpose.

‘Haeun is sorry,’ she said, then straightened her back and looked up at Jeonghan expectantly.

It made Jisoo crack up and even the quiet lady let out a muffled chuckle while she kept her eyes on the screen.

You weren’t exactly counting the seconds, but you knew the silence had stretched too long when your daughter started to get fidgety and one of the baristas, whose name you hadn’t learnt yet, came up to your table with some snacks and five glasses of cold beverages: orange juice for your daughter and coffees for all four of you.

‘Jeonghan,’ the blonde girl said with a tired sigh. ‘Apologise to Haeun.’

‘Why? Everyone knows I’m right,’ the man huffed, mumbling something under his nose about Jisoo’s new girlfriend and how it was a waste of money to buy her a new bikini because there was no way they would have lasted that long. ‘Also, I’m not sorry at all. It would only teach her the wrong lessons,’ he claimed, his smug smirk ridiculously potent as he let his gaze fall on your daughter, then looked up at you to add: ‘We wouldn’t want that, would we now?’

Too shocked to even part your lips or let out a scoff, it didn’t surprise you that you weren’t the first one to react. What did take you aback, though, was the elegance the blonde woman handled the situation with. You would have never been able to keep your facial expressions that neutral or your voice so stable while you told your significant other that they were less mature than a six-year-old child.

‘If you’re so keen on teaching the right life lessons to people, I have one for you, too,’ the woman said before she put her hand on the top of her laptop’s screen and turned her head in her boyfriend’s direction, completely unbothered. If it could have, your jaw would have fallen on the ground because of how badass she sounded; like she knew she had the upper hand and wasn’t afraid to make it clear to everyone. ‘Making bets on your best friends’ relationships is seriously messed up. I’ve already told you this, haven’t I?’

‘Yeah, but…’

‘But it’s a tradition and everybody does it anyway,’ she cut Jeonghan off by finishing the sentence for him in the same manner like she was talking about their next grocery shopping. You crouched down behind Haeun-ah and pulled her small body against your chest, not sure if you were allowed to leave. It was a very weird situation; it made you feel out of place and as a mom, that was something you really hated.

Your eyes were pleading when you looked up at Jisoo; however, he was busy with the drama that was unfolding in front of you, so he clearly didn’t get the memo. You held onto your little girl more firmly and leaned close to her ear so you could tell her that you were about to leave.

Except…

Yoohyeon turned off her laptop and reached out to your daughter to ruffle her hair with a soft smile. She looked beautiful. So calm and approachable, you had this silly urge to go to her for advice even though she was practically a stranger.

‘Hey, big girl! I’m sorry this rude ahjussi upset you, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure he will sit long enough in the corner to learn his lesson,’ she reassured Haeun that Jeonghan would be punished, which seemed to satisfy the little lady considering the firm nod she gave to the woman.

‘What do you mean by that?’ Jeonghan asked in a slightly pitched voice, but his girlfriend wasn’t having it anymore. She just put her laptop into her laptop bag in a leisurely way.

‘I’ll take the subway to my publisher’s office,’ she stated, nodding towards Jisoo at first, then in your direction. What Jeonghan got was a pat on the shoulder and a cold yet somehow still affectionate: ‘Call me when you’ve grown up. I’m ordering chicken for dinner.’

With that, she was out the door like she had never been there.

‘I think it’s time for us to go, too,’ you jumped on the opportunity before any of the men could have broken out of their stupor and taken their anger out on you. Well… more like Jeonghan, since you seriously doubted Jisoo had any reason to be angry with you, but who knew? Bro codex and such things did exist and they were close friends.

You were acquaintances at best and the most fun people to spend time with according to your daughter.

‘But mom… my juice!’ Haeun pouted; however, this time you decided to put your feet down and use your physical advantage as it should have been in tough situations: you lifted her off the ground and looked around in search of her papers and crayons.

‘Where are your drawings, sugar?’ You whisper-asked while scanning the area around where your previous table had been to no avail. Which was both comforting because it meant your stuff hadn’t been left behind unsupervised, but also frustrating because those pieces of papers clearly weren’t on the new table, either.

‘In my princess folder,’ she informed you like there was no other place those drawings could have been and you sighed, because you as far as you were concerned, you hadn’t brought any folders with you that morning and even if you had done, she didn’t own a princess one to begin with. ‘It’s behind Jisoo oppa,’ Haeun gave you another direction, most likely sensing just how lost you were still.

You furrowed your brows and shifted your gaze to Jisoo, who was already looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

‘I’m sorry, but could you give me her stuff? We’re going home,’ the words fell from your lips kindly, secretly hoping that if you spoke quietly enough, you could have stayed under his best friend’s radar. You genuinely didn’t want to fight - not in public, not with a grown ass man who was acting like a child and especially not with the friend of someone you were already indebted to. If you had done that, you would have set yourself up for a disaster for sure, and only stupid people did that.

With Haeun in your arms, you couldn’t have afforded to be stupid anymore.

‘Oh? Yeah, sure. Sorry, it’s no problem,’ Jisoo exclaimed a bit clumsily, quickly turning his back to you so he could fish the folder and all the crayons out of his own bag.

You snatched them both out of his hands with a quick ‘Thank you.’

On your way towards the front door, you could feel your daughter peeking out from behind your shoulder, watching the two men, but you didn’t care. You marched towards the street with all your might and didn’t stop until the nearest subway station.

You just knew Seola would have laughed at you if she had seen you bolting from the scene.

It was Jisoo who sent you the first personal message to you via kakao, and you were so taken aback by how unrelated it was to anything you had ever talked about, you had half a mind to ask your daughter whether she had said anything funny about you to the man. After all, why else would he have sent you a One Piece meme in the middle of a boring Wednesday. A Zoro one on top of everything. Were you too basic?

Maybe. But even so, he shouldn’t have known. So you asked him whether he had messaged the wrong person and from there, the rest was history.

You didn’t text daily, but he asked you about your job hunting frequently (even went as far as sending you job advertisements that didn’t require more than a high school diploma), how Haeun-ah was doing at school and your opinion on cute date ideas that he found nice and also doable but his male friends made fun of. Overall, it didn’t take longer than three weeks and you started to refer to him as a friend in your head.

Still, how you had ended up at a pub with a very drunk Jisoo at 11PM on a Friday night when your daughter was having a sleepover at her aunt’s place was beyond you. On the other hand, when you gave it a serious thought, you had indeed seen his best friend making fun of his relationship a few weeks prior, so was it really that surprising that he had reached out to you when his girlfriend dumped him? You didn’t think so.

‘Yes, she looked sexy in the red one, but is it really worth breaking up over?’ He threw the first ridiculous question at you as soon as you arrived and took a seat next to him at the main bar.

You called over the bartender and asked for a juice and a glass of iced water.

‘Jisoo…’ you called out to him, peeling his fingers off his half-finished beer. ‘It might sound like I’m taking Jeonghan’s side, but I really don’t think she broke up with you because of the bikini,’ you tried to comfort him, although you were unsure whether your words were doing the job or only upsetted him more.

So far, he looked more confused and lost than anything.

‘But she said so! She got mad at me when I gave her the black one. She said I’m a possessive pig and she can’t take my conservative ideas anymore,’ he croaked, making a weak attempt at getting his beer back, but you were faster.

The tears in his eyes and on his cheeks made your heart hurt. Especially because it had been you who had insisted that his ex-girlfriend would be happy to get either of the bikinis he had chosen for her as the thought mattered more than the gift itself. You still didn’t believe that the girl’s reasons for dumping Jisoo were more than cheap excuses, but you did feel partly responsible and that sucked.

‘If she thought that way of you, that just means she wasn’t the right one for you,’ you said, the words one hundred percent true and yet… You weren’t sure they were as comforting as you had intended them to be. Even to your ears, they sounded a tad too cliche to convey just how worried you were about him.

The bitter chuckle that left Jisoo’s throat only proved it further that he didn’t believe you. And why would he have? One and a half months ago you hadn’t known about each other’s existence.

So you were grateful when the bartender served you your drinks. It gave you an opportunity to divert the topic without sounding too insensitive.

‘Here,’ you put the glass of water into Jisoo’s hand, slowly brushing a few strands out of his forehead without realising how intimate it could have seemed to people who didn’t know you and the way you comforted people ever since you had become a mom. ‘Do you think you can finish the whole glass for me?’

The moment your eyes met, the unintended implication behind your words hit you like a bullet train, and your cheeks decided to throw you under the bus: both sides dressed in a dark shade of ruby red. Naturally, it was you who broke eye contact first.

‘I must have messed up pretty bad,’ Jisoo came to the conclusion a couple of heartbeats later, drawing your attention back to him, both of your eyes fixed on the glass in his hands he was playing with. You wished you had known what to say, but it was difficult, because you didn’t know what made him say that. The dates he had organised (at least, the ones he had told you about) had sounded both cute and fun. You would have loved going on any of them if you had wanted to be honest. Not to mention that he had taken his girlfriend on a date around three or four times a week, which was more frequent than the average as far as you could tell. ‘She couldn’t even stay with me until the group vacation and we’ll leave in two days.’

You frowned, genuinely bewildered that Jisoo would have preferred getting dumped after the vacation like that wouldn’t have meant he was being used.

You took a sip from your juice and reached out to his hand to lift his own glass in front of his lips. He needed to sober up real quick before his intoxicated brain could have convinced him that he should have contacted the girl to ask her to join them for the trip or something. Nah, not under your watch.

‘Why would you want to be with someone who clearly isn’t in love with you?’ You inquired, slowly turning towards him with your entire body.

You let your eyes loiter over his bent figure, his puffy eyes and the dried snot above his lips and on the back of his hand. He looked worn down and his wrinkled clothes didn’t help much with his overall appearance. Should you have called one of his friends to pick him up? Was it really okay for you to see him like this?

‘Is this why you’re not with your baby daddy anymore?’ His question came out of nowhere, hitting you in the guts without any kind of warning. His bluntness rendered you speechless while your knuckles turned white around your drink.

The indirect mention of Inwoo made you wish you had ordered something stronger, because this wasn’t a topic you were ready to share with Jisoo or anyone who hadn’t known about your history already, especially when the other party wasn’t a hundred percent conscious. It might have been easier if you could have said that you had stopped loving each other at one point, but that hadn’t been the case. For the two of you, love had simply not been enough.

You stalled, taking another sip from your drink, contemplating whether you should have stayed silent, called for the bill and left or answered his question honestly.

In the end, you decided to lead by example and be the bigger person (like how you raised your kid).

‘No. We were still in love when we parted ways.’

Jisoo snapped his head in your direction at a speed that should have made his head dizzy and gave you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher. Though, his eyes did make you feel like you were from a different planet.

‘Then why would you do that? You have a child together!’ He exclaimed, obviously upset about the part of the truth you had revealed. ‘Haeun alone should have been enough to stay together, but you’re saying you were still in love?’

Listening to his accusation - because it felt like an accusation to you - you clenched and unclenched your jaw, trying your best to keep your cool; however, it was difficult. Because he not only acted like you had failed your daughter, like you were selfish for not fighting for your relationship harder, but he was calling you out on all of these at a public place, raising his voice in frustration as though he had any business getting upset.

‘Stop that,’ you retorted, spatting each word into Jisoo’s pale face. ‘You don’t get to judge us when you know nothing about our situation,’ you started, taking a drawn out breath before you kept going: ‘Do you really believe Haeun wasn’t enough for us? Inwoo couldn’t wait to see her. He wanted to give us the best life, and he would have if the circumstances allowed it, so think twice before you say anything like that ever again,’ you warned him, lifting your left hand in front of his face to cut him off before he could have thought of adding anything else to your conversation.

For the first time in a while, the silence was suffocating in Jisoo’s company, but you did your best to shut it out and concentrate on the cold drink in your hands. He was drunk, and while it shouldn’t have been a passable excuse, it helped you not hold grudges against him for being so insensitive. Love and relationships were clearly sensitive topics for the both of you.

‘I’m sorry. I crossed a line,’ the man spoke up once he emptied his glass as if he had been afraid to draw your attention at himself before he had at least done this much for you. Which was ridiculous, but also a tad bit cute.

‘Yeah, you did,’ you agreed in a heartbeat, refusing to play it down just how wrong he had been when he had judged you and your ex. ‘But now you know better, so I forgive you,’ you added, sending a small albeit genuine smile in his direction, which he reciprocated with only a couple of seconds of delay.

You made Jisoo drink a second glass of water after that, and you spent the following half an hour in relative silence before he sobered up enough to be able to walk in a straight line with minor assistance from your side. You used his card to pay for his bill, then led him outside where your taxi was already waiting for you, not letting go of his elbow until you were both sitting comfortably in the backseat.

It didn’t take a minute and his head fell on your shoulder. His snoring was quiet but audible due to how close he was to you. You also couldn’t ignore the shiver his warm breath sent down your spine whenever it fanned over your neck.

‘Miss, we have arrived,’ the old taxi driver informed you, politely asking you if you needed any additional help with your company, but you declined the help for two reasons. 1) It was Jisoo’s place, not yours, so you weren’t sure you were allowed to make that decision. 2) He had been sober enough to get in the car without much trouble, so you hoped he wouldn’t have collapsed on you on your way to his flat.

‘Thank you. I’ll pay by card,’ you said and used your own card to pay for the ride after you shook Jisoo awake. You got out of the vehicle first, but you held the door for him and even helped him with his balance when his feet touched the pavement.

The thought that you should have asked the old man to wait for you crossed your mind only after you got inside the building, so it was clearly too late to rush out and make him stay an extra ten minutes or so. Agrr. You would need to call for another car once you made sure Jisoo got in bed just fine (and had some painkillers and a glass of water on his bedside table for the following morning).

‘I’m heavy,’ the words were mumbled against your shoulder when in the elevator, Jisoo lost his balance for a sheer moment and bumped his forehead into the crook of your neck.

He was such a mess, but you still decided to take a small part of his body weight on you for the remaining distance as you helped him straighten up and let him swing his arm over your shoulder. He was heavy, but lucky for him, you were used to carrying a stubborn and sleepy six-year-old in your arms on a daily basis, so you could manage.

‘Jisoo…’ you tried to gain his flickering attention when you stopped in front of his unit. ‘We need your keys or your code,’ you reminded him and turned your head deliberately when he reached out to the panel, because even though it wouldn’t have hurt anyone if you had known his code, you didn’t want to disrespect him by taking advantage of him when he was clearly in a vulnerable state.

Once inside, you made him sit on the cushion attached to the shoe rack, a built-in mirror and the hanger with his jackets, then helped him untie his shoes that he had previously tried to get rid of with his heels and toes. So lazy.

‘Where is your bedroom?’ You asked after a deep breath, looking around in the flat with your hands on your hips. It had a really neat interior, which genuinely surprised you, because Jisoo didn’t always come off as someone organised to you, but if you wanted to be honest, you weren’t even sure whether he lived alone, so what did you know?

‘There,’ he pointed towards the hallway on your right, and you deemed his direction helpful enough to wrap your hands around one of his arms and pull him after you.

As it soon became obvious, the flat was a lot bigger than you had initially assumed - now it made more sense why there were only three front doors on the floor when your apartment complex had twice as many -, but you still managed to find his room on second try, right after you peeked into a room full of boxes and unpainted ceramic.

‘You know…’ Jisoo started as soon as you helped him sit on the edge of his king sized bed and modestly turned your back to him so he could get out of his worn clothes. You let our a soft hum to indicate that you were listening. ‘You and Haeun should come to the group trip with us,’ he said, turning your entire body tense and hot with his claim.

The fact was, you knew Haeun would have liked to go on a vacation with her new besties and would have also loved to see the sea, since she rarely got the opportunity. On the other hand, you couldn’t stop thinking about Jeonghan’s claim which started to sound more and more true to you: Jisoo was a relationship addict. And while you weren’t so self-assured to believe he suddenly wanted to, he had been just dumped.

What was the guarantee that you and your daughter wouldn’t have been the replacement.

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea,’ you answered honestly, trying not to empathise with the man’s disappointment when a small hum was torn from his throat. Obviously, you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings even more, especially that day, but you were a mom, and you had to put your daughter’s emotional wellbeing first.

You didn’t want her to realise at one point during the trip, or later in life, that she wasn’t the first choice, especially to someone she clearly held dear to her little heart.

‘I’m grateful for the thought, though,’ you made an attempt at lessening the blow, but it could have easily been too late considering how quiet Jisoo became.

To ease some of the tension, you decided to leave his room and look for the kitchen, so you could bring him some cold water and painkillers before you left.

At the end, neither your consideration, nor his gratitude made your goodbyes less awkward. Even though you tried. You both honestly tried.

It might not have been the most healthy way of dealing with the issue, but the two of you never brought up the vacation after that - you didn’t ask him to send slash show you pics of the trip with his friends and he didn’t elaborate on how he had felt or how much fun he had had while being surrounded by a bunch of couples. Would you have liked to know if Jisoo was mentally alright? Yes. You cared about him more than you let him in on. However, you were determined to not bring it up even though the number of texts you sent to each other sky-rocketed after you had taken care of his drunk ass.

If you wanted to be honest, you were surprised that despite the outrageous comments he had made and the discomfort here and there throughout that night hadn’t gotten in the way of your slowly forming friendship. But then again… You weren’t the only one who had gotten closer to the man. Your daughter was very much the same if not worse. After all, unlike you, Haeun formed bonds with a lot of Jisoo’s friends, including the blond man with whom she picked a fight every damn time they met.

Were the two of you invited to taste-test the new recipes Mingyu had come up with? Jeonghan made a comment on your daughter’s pigtails and how she would become a pig if she ate a piece more, which ended up in a screaming contest. Were you spending your free Saturday in the coffee shop with Jisoo and Haeun, who were exchanging their drawings every ten minutes to create something pretty together while having fun? Jeonghan criticised Jisoo’s drawing skills and your daughter just couldn’t let it slide. It was insane, and you didn’t blame Yoohyeon for sitting at a separate table in the corner with her laptop whenever it got out of control. You wished you could have done that, too.

Anyhow, apart from these extreme interactions, you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed spending time with some of the guys and their girlfriends. You even went on a girls night out with Hoyeon, Seola, Sooryeon, Eunseo, Miri and Zhixiao two weeks after their holiday since they wanted to get to know you and your best friend, “the girl who let Joshua down gently before he could have talked her into getting together with her” to quote from word to word. You thought it was a little rude of them, but Hoyeon was also part of the gang that made bets on their friends’ relationships, so it could have been worse.

‘You don’t want to come anymore?’ Jisoo’s unsure question dragged you back to reality, your unfocused gaze falling on him before you brushed aside the memories that were occupying your mind. ‘We could take a rain check on the studio tour if you rather went home. It was a long day.’

‘Hm?’ Your eyes widened a tad as you were trying to comprehend what he was referring to. A long day… You did have an unusually productive day that Saturday, but nothing you couldn’t handle with two or three cups of green tea or coffee and some sugary goods. ‘No, it’s fine. I already promised Haeun-ah and I’m not that tired anyway.’

Jisoo gave you a onceover, but refrained from making another comment. Instead, he lifted his left hand with your daughter’s princess backpack in it and his right hand, too, the little girl was holding onto while sipping on her orange juice.

‘We’re good to go then,’ he exclaimed, shaking his hips left and right with a big smile when your daughter did the same, making your heart do a silly little flip due to the adorable sight.

You scolded yourself mentally.

‘Okay, just give me a sec,’ you asked, quickly looking around, then checking your bag to be sure you had everything on you: your id card, phone, charger, powerbank, house keys and of course, your wallet, too. ‘Let’s go!’

On your way to the front doors, you bid your goodbye to everyone who had a shift that day, then followed Jisoo to his car. Since he didn’t have a car seat especially for Haeun, you told him that you would sit in the back with her in your lap, and thanked him when he took your stuff out of your hand, so he could put it along with your daughter’s princess backpack on the passenger’s seat, where they were easier to access.

‘Vroom, vroom,’ Haeun exclaimed happily, mimicking Jisoo turning the steering wheel from the middle of the backseat since it was rare she had the chance to ride a car. You didn’t have one; you used public transportation whenever you weren’t in a rush, which you tried not to be in. You weren’t a big fan of spending extra money on cabs when it wasn’t an emergency.

‘Are you excited, princess?’ At the first red light, Jisoo started a conversation, making you wonder whether he was this good with kids in general or it was only Haeun whom he treated so well. You also wondered whether he was an only child. Did he have any relatives close to your daughter’s age? Would it have been weird to ask so out of the blue?

You pressed your lips together and decided to file it for another time. You didn’t want to cut their conversation about pottery short with your sudden interest in Jisoo’s personal life.

‘I want to make a dinosaur. And a helicopter,’ Haeun exclaimed zealously, her exaggerated hand gestures coming alarmingly close to your face, although you didn’t budge. You simply squeezed her sides gently with your hands, to remind her where she was, pressing your lips to the top of her head to show affection.

‘You can make a dinosaur mug, hm? Dinosaur figures are too fragile, sugar,’ you informed her in a small voice as you brushed a stray mop of hair behind her ear, fixing her messy hair a little without redoing her braids.

‘Fridge-aisle? What is that?’ Haeun asked with big, curious eyes. To show you that she really wanted to learn something new that day, she shifted in your lap and turned towards you as much as she could, tilting her head just a tad to the left. ‘Is it like ice-cream?’

Her guess made you smile widely. She might have been pretty far from the truth this time, but it wasn’t the most hilarious one she had ever made. That title went to her drawing of flaming mangos (flamingos) when her class had to illustrate a story that their kindergarten teacher had read them in school. You had it framed in your living room, next to her four-year-old birthday picture.

‘No, it’s not. Fragile means it’s easy to break,’ you corrected her, which made her pout for a couple of seconds like she was trying to picture a fragile dinosaur figure in her head.

When she succeeded, she acknowledged your explanation with a nod and a loud: ‘Okay!’

During the rest of the ride, you joined in on their discussion about the best dinosaurs, but let them decide which art styles and eating utensils they preferred and whether they wanted to make matching sets or individual items. It was a surprisingly adult conversation, and you were grateful to Jisoo for not only taking your daughter seriously, but also taking her opinion into account.

A tiny, insignificant voice in your head reminded you that he was treating her the way you wanted to raise her from the get-go, but you quickly shook your head to get the idea out of it just how compatible your approaches were.

‘Get ready for the last turn, princess. We’re about to park the car,’ Jisoo informed the little girl, and you could see him checking on her through the mirror to make sure her arms were in position for the manoeuvre. The whole scene tugged on your heartstrings.

As soon as you got the green light from Jisoo, the two of you got out of the car: you went to grab your bags and your daughter sprinted to the man, who was waiting for her close to the entrance with his hand held out.

‘So… this is my potter studio,’ he let both of you inside the building with his name on it, the keys dingling in his hand as he pointed at one part of the interior after the other.

It was a nice shop, not at all overwhelming despite the professional equipment, pre-made, unpainted ceramic designs, number of paints and brushes one could have chosen from and all that jazz. In fact, at first glance, this place was a lot more organised than the room you had seen at his home.

‘You can both make the plates and mugs yourself or just pick them out from those selves and paint them,’ he explained kindly at the end of the VIP tour that apparently included places regular customers couldn’t see for themselves, such as the room where he baked the clay and his own office with a mini fridge full of fruit juices, soda and snacks.

‘Make, make! I want to make mugs and plates,’ your daughter insisted, jumping up and down excitedly while holding onto Jisoo’s hand. If it had been any other person, except for Seola, you would have felt uncomfortable watching her acting so loud and borderline obnoxious, but at some point, it seemed, you subconsciously accepted the fact that the man didn’t mind her overly-friendly behaviour.

You didn’t notice that a soft smile had made an appearance on your face while you had been watching their adorable duo until Jisoo looked at you from above his shoulder and caught you red handed. You gulped, resisting the urge to bite into your cheek from the inside out of embarrassment.

‘It might take a while,’ he mouthed the words, and it took you a couple of seconds to realise he was talking about the plates and mugs Haeun-ah was insistent on making from scratch. You furrowed your brows, not sure what he meant by it until he specified: ‘Days.’

“Days” meant multiple sessions, which you had to at least try to avoid to ease your heart a little, even though you were aware: now that Haeun knew she had the opportunity to design everything herself, it was almost impossible to talk her out of it.

‘Sugar…’ you walked next to her, tapping her shoulder to gain her attention before you sat on your heels by her side. ‘Making plates and mugs takes a lot of time. You won’t be able to paint on them tonight,’ you started, giving her time to process small parts of the information first instead of overwhelming her with too many details at once.

You pressed your lips together lightly when Jisoo crouched down to her level as well as if he was a part of the conversation despite remaining sile—

‘You will need to wait two or three days, because the plates need to dry first,’ he explained with a patient smile on his face, caressing your daughter’s chubby cheek like she was his or something. What took you aback the most in the unusual sight was Haeun-ah enjoying the gesture so much from someone other than you or your best friend when you had seen her swat away the hand of her aunt Seola’s parents, her warm-hearted homeroom teacher and the neighbourhood ahjumma, too, although the old lady had even offered her some sour candies - her then favourites. ‘Do you think you can wait that much?’

Haeun did that thing when she puckered her lips deep in thought for a couple of seconds, then she nodded firmly, visibly determined to act like how she thought big girls would.

‘I can,’ she exclaimed, and you pressed your lips together, swallowing back objections that you knew rooted in your own insecurities. You didn’t want to impose on Jisoo’s kindness, you didn’t want to rely on someone too much. You didn’t want to get too comfortable around him - or anyone, really - just to realise later in time that he was only a temporary part of your life.

You didn’t notice you lost focus for a second until your daughter pulled on your arm to get your attention.

‘Mom! Can I? Can I? I can,’ she pleaded, making you steal a quick glance at Jisoo who was watching your interaction with twinkles in his eyes. He looked so soft at that moment, just watching your daughter trying to persuade you to bring her back to the studio multiple times, so she could have plates she made from scratch (or well… of clay, but that wasn’t the point).

‘Is it really okay? I can only bring her here after school or on weekends when I’m off work,’ you reminded him, because while you had already submitted your resignation letter, you had to keep working for the cleaning company a month longer.

‘You can always welcome here after opening hours. Don’t worry about that,’ he reassured you, and a part of you wanted to tell him to take it back: that he shouldn’t have thrown these kinds of promises around like confetti, but wouldn’t that have been weird? If you had gotten so offensive when he was nothing but kind to you and Haeun-ah?

‘Thanks,’ you ended up saying like any normal person without abandonment issues would have done so, then gave in to his nagging and chose a mug for yourself, one from the shelves that was already pre-made and was waiting for someone to paint on it.

Your anxiety didn’t disappear immediately; however, every time you took a glance at your daughter happily swinging her legs back and forth on the chair Jisoo had made her sit, giggling at the weird shapes her mugs and plates took because of her inexperience with clay and pottery eased your nerves a little. At the end, you felt you made the best decision for the little one, and that was all that mattered.

It had been a while since you had let yourself get immersed in something fun and relaxing; as a single mother, your focus had to be on Haeun-ah 24/7 even though the older she grew, the less time she spent with you due to her studies and her slowly growing friend groups and responsibilities. She might have only been six, but your society was obsessed with grades and special talents, thus you encouraged her to hone her skills and pursue her interests regardless of how silly they appeared to be from an adult’s point of view - no matter how worried you were that you put too much on her plate whenever you agreed to sign her up for extra classes.

So the fact that you didn’t notice three hours going by while you were decorating your mug was both shocking and understandable. You had used to draw sketches of people and random interior designs when you had been in high school, hovering over your notebook for hours without a care for the world. You could hyperfixate on the smallest, most insignificant details when you had time. It was just… usually you didn’t have that luxury, at least, not anymore.

‘Woah! I didn’t know you were so good at painting!’ Jisoo’s surprisingly quiet voice pulled you back to the present, the warm drinks in his hands filling the air with the unmistakably sweet scent of chocolate and cinnamon. ‘I made us some hot cocoa and spiced it up with a little bit of rum to fit the occasion,’ he informed you before he nudged you with his feet and urged you to take one of the mugs out of his hands.

‘Oh? So you were serious about the celebration?’ You asked a bit taken aback, but very much touched by the sentiment. Seola had already brought you a cake the day before when she had heard about the job offer you had been more than eager to accept, but Jisoo’s hot cocoa was just as appreciated if not more. After all, he didn’t have any best friend obligations to fulfil - if not some made-up bestie duties to your daughter who still hadn’t given up on claiming the man.

For some reason, the possibility of the latter made you laugh for the first time Jisoo had come into your life. Just putting him in the same group as Haeun’s playmates made you crack up. How absurd it was, really.

‘What’s so funny?’ Jisoo asked with a small smile in the corner of his mouth, his lips painted in a light shade of glossy brown from the hot cocoa. You took a sip from your own drink, then let it warm your numb fingers as you kept the porcelain mug in your hands on your lap.

‘I’m just happy, that’s all,’ you opted for a half-truth, slowly looking around in the interior of the studio. ‘Where is Haeun?’

‘There.’

You snapped your head in Jisoo’s way just to follow the direction his finger was pointing at. Immediately, your eyes landed on a pile of blankets in one corner of the couch near the counter where Jisoo kept the cash register and some documents that helped him identify which half-finished or finished product belonged to which customer.

‘She fell asleep while I put away her mugs. She wanted to make some matching plates, too, but by the time I prepared everything for her, she was out on the chair,’ he explained, your brain easily filling out the holes: him carrying her to the couch, which was undoubtedly the most comfortable-looking furniture in his studio, covering her with blankets and cleaning up after her at the professional table with the pedals and all.

You turned back towards him and shot a grateful smile at him, completely at loss of words. He hadn’t had to, but he had taken care of your daughter on your behalf anyway just so you could have painted in peace. That was something… something Inwoo would have done for you in many of your dreams when you had still held onto the picture of your happy family. Something that a significant other would have done, cherishing Haeun and you equally as if you had always been his.

‘Do you think she would feel left out if we celebrated without her? I made some hot cocoa for her, too - without the rum, of course -, but I didn’t have the heart to wake her,’ Jisoo inquired, and you just shook your head.

‘We can always celebrate with her another time. Let her sleep,’ you decided and lifted your mug for a toast despite how ridiculous it looked. ‘I will buy us samgyeopsal from my first salary. How about that?’ You asked, clinking your mug to his like you had just made a vow, then took a big sip from the drink.

The hot cocoa tasted sweet on your tongue, the rum burning your throat briefly yet pleasantly once the lingering mix of chocolate and cinnamon started to fade. It was perfectly made, and you couldn’t have helped but tease him whether he had taken a bartender course in the past to charm girls.

‘So what if I did?’ He asked back, playful. ‘Is it working?’

‘Isn’t that something you should know better?’ Your chuckle filled the room, the mug slowly yet steadily getting empty in your hand. It wasn’t that hot anymore, but it still brought warmth to you as you clung onto the porcelain.

‘It’s a secret, but…’ he leaned closer to you as though he was really about to spill the beans about something no one knew about. Instinctively, you leaned closer to him as well to meet him halfway, eager to hear the juicy details. ‘I’m not that good at reading the signs.’

You furrowed your brows and pulled away, so you could take a better look at Jisoo’s face. You weren’t sure just how serious he could be until your eyes finally met; then, staring at him with your lips partially ajar, you failed to contain your amusement.

He was serious.

‘Silly,’ you said as you got rid of the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes with the back of your hand. ‘That’s not a secret. Everyone knows that,’ you corrected him and acting on the sudden urge, you reached out with your empty hand and took his jaw between your fingers. The way you fondled his chin with your thumb was gentle, like you were trying to make up for your straightforward words with affection.

Unconsciously, a part of you might have wanted to do just that. Gentle touches, encouraging words, warm smiles, mutual vulnerability out in the open. Throughout the rest of the night, you shared stories with Jisoo that helped him feel less like a failure just because the rest of his friend group was more forward in life (from a conservative point of view), even the youngest ones like Chan and Seungkwan. At a weak moment, you even told him about Inwoo and his wife who had an adorable little boy together as far as you were concerned. You were happy for him, and for some odd reason, Jisoo called you strong for sounding so sincere.

‘I always feel bitter when I see my exes with other people. Especially when they are happy,’ Jisoo confessed and you hugged him to show your support, to show him that you didn’t think he was a bad person for being hurt and acting on those bitter feelings from time to time.

‘It’s okay to be hurt,’ you mumbled against his chest, patting his shoulder blade rhythmically to emphasise how much you meant every word.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, in each other’s embrace, then finished your fifth or sixth mugs of hot cocoa while sharing less emotionally loaded and more lighthearted stories with each other. It was a celebration after all.

A night that you knew would be hard to forget or ignore in the near future yet couldn’t regret anyway.

Days started to feel longer towards the second part of your notice period, although you knew that scientifically nothing had changed; each one of them consisted of twenty-four hours out of which you usually slept six or seven thanks to your daughter having an early curfew. Thus, you shouldn’t have felt as drained as you were when you showed up at Coffee Carat with Haeun on your next free Saturday. On the contrary, your body should have been overflowing with energy since your daughter had been nice enough to let you sleep in instead of asking you to prepare her breakfast first thing in the morning or demanding your attention simply because she had no one to play with.

So why were you dragging your feet one after the other like even something as mundane as walking took a lot out of you?

Maybe because your current manager was a real pain in the ass who took it upon himself to teach you one last lesson before your departure.

‘Mom! There, there!’ Haeun pointed at a random table close to the huge coffee bean sticker, where Jisoo and his friends were munching on sweet treats and talking about something that clearly divided the group. Unlike most of the time when Jeonghan was present, his girlfriend was nowhere to be seen.

‘Calm down, sugar. Let’s order something first, okay?’ You squeezed her hand gently to help her focus on you, giving time for the guys to notice your arrival and also for your daughter to take a few breathers. The last thing you wanted was Haeun to pounce at them when they were clearly having a heated conversation. That would have done nothing good.

‘Oh…’ The pout that appeared on your daughter’s face was momentarily because as soon as her eyes landed on the chocolate balls dragon behind the glass display her chin quite literally dropped on the floor, her excited squeal filling the interior. ‘Mingyu oppa did it! He really did it! See?’ She pointed at the fun-looking dessert, rambling about how she had drawn a whole magical zoo for the baker during one of your last minute job interviews and how this dessert’s name was Yong-yong.

‘Hello there, little one. What can I get for you today?’ Seokmin asked with his trademark smile that did not waver, not even a little bit, when Haeun-ah started to tell him about her drawings and excitement to taste the most delicious-looking dragon princess she had ever seen. Was her statement a little alarming? Absolutely. But you supposed, she was old enough to tell non-existing animals from an actual cake, so it wasn’t like she wanted to eat a pet or a good old friend from her fairytale books.

‘I’ll have an iced cappuccino and please, some apple juice for Haeun,’ you added, immensely grateful that instead of jumping on the opportunity to turn his back on the two of you, the barista entertained your daughter with questions like which fantasy animal she would have liked to see in the coffee shop next time and whether princess Yong-yong was big enough in her opinion.

It took some time and some overly detailed answers from your overhyped chipmunk, but eventually you got your tray with your orders and were able to look for empty chairs in the customer area. Since you couldn’t be sure that the boys had come to an agreement or were still talking about something passionately, you would have preferred to have your own table near them, but of course, as soon as Haeun-ah’s eyes landed on Jisoo’s open arms, so couldn’t stay still. She ran to him like he was her world.

You followed her slowly with slightly burning cheeks and greeted the others with a small smile, not sure whether it was okay if you took one of the empty chairs or you should have found a table to put your tray on.

‘Why are you just standing there? If you wanted to sit next to Joshua, you should have been faster, like the little gremlin,’ Jeonghan said with that shiteating grin on his face he somehow didn’t seem to know how to contain unless his girlfriend was giving him the silent treatment. Then, he was quick to be on his best behaviour. ‘Come on! Sit,’ he pulled an empty chair out for you across from Jisoo and your daughter at the same moment the little one pointed her tiny finger at the blond man and screamed:

‘Bad word!’

From the top of her lungs.

‘Sugar, we’ve already talked about screaming at people,’ you reminded her, not scolding her for what she had said, but rather for how she had said it.

‘You don’t even know what gremlin means,’ Jeonghan challenged Haeun, once again making you want to contact Yoohyeon to collect her man, although that would have been childish and you seriously should have been able to handle their bickering. It wasn’t that much different from fights on the playground.

‘You said so it’s bad. I’m Haeun. Kim Haeun,’ she explained her logic, making everyone else around the table chuckle and laugh at her reasoning.

‘Jeonghan. I’ve already told you, stop bullying her,’ Jisoo warned his best friend, earning a big smile from your daughter who sneakily darted her tongue out at Jeonghan when she thought no one was watching. Well, you obviously had your eyes on her and so had the blond man who mimicked the gesture without any hesitation.

Children.

‘Oppa!’ Haeun spoke up a moment after the momentary peace had settled as she pulled a chocolate ball off the almond-and-chocolate-coated pepero stick that served as the dragon’s spine. Jisoo let out a hum to make her aware he was listening. ‘There will be a car day in school next Friday. Everyone’s mom and dad will come and tell stories about their job,’ she chatted, swinging her legs back and forth while sitting on Jisoo’s lap.

‘A Career Day? Sounds fun. Are you excited?’ Their conversation kept going on like none of you others had been sitting by the same table, but you didn’t mind it that much anymore, not since the night Jisoo had shown you his pottery studio (Haeun’s mugs and plates were already painted, so you were one meet-up from taking everything home).

‘Yeah, so fun. But mom’s not coming,’ she said flatly, chewing on a chocolate ball in one minute and offering another one to Jisoo in another.

Your cheeks were burning, for a different reason this time: guilt. It wasn’t like you didn’t care about the Career Day at her school. In fact, you had been just as excited about it as she had been when she had first mentioned it to you, but unfortunately, your manager had refused to let you take off that day as part of the lesson he tried to teach you. You swallowed back a disappointed sigh and took a sip from your drink. It couldn’t have been helped.

‘Mom must be really sorry that she can’t make it, princess,’ Jisoo brushed a mop of hair out of Haeun’s face, then accepted a second chocolate ball from your daughter before he pointed at you and nudged the little girl’s shoulder.

Apparently this was the encouragement your daughter needed to share her snack with you, too. You accepted the dessert with a grateful smile that was dedicated more to Jisoo than her even if you would have never said that out loud. Especially not while you were sitting at the same table with Yoon Jeonghan.

You could already hear the guys whispering about how none of them would have thought that Joshua was such a dad(dy) material until you two had come into their lives. You had never been so grateful that Haeun still had a limited vocabulary and was as innocent as one could be at her age. Why would any of them have thought it was a good idea to joke about daddies around a little girl with no father figure in her life was seriously beyond you.

‘Oppa!’ Haeun exclaimed between two bites, letting Jisoo make her drink some of her apple juice as well before she blurted out with the biggest due eyes: ‘Will you come to the car day like other dads do?’

The tension that followed could have been cut with a butter knife.

You didn’t realise you were sweating or that you started to breath heavily after her question; you honestly didn’t even notice the worried looks everyone at the table was giving you until Jeonghan put his hand on your shoulder and you snapped. You got up from the chair like it was burning you and excused yourself hastily before you rushed towards the double doors. There was no way your daughter was asking Jisoo to show up at the school Career Day like other fathers did. Your brain was making things up.

You needed some fresh air.

Later, when you would think back at this incident, you might have thought you were a little bit of a drama queen and unreasonable - since you stormed out of the building, leaving your daughter behind albeit in good hands -, but at that moment your focus was solely on getting as far away from the situation as possible. You had to think and you couldn’t do that in front of so many of Jisoo’s friends and your daughter who was literally beaming at Jisoo, hoping for an affirmative answer. When had you given her the impression that he was her father? When the hell had you made her believe that Jisoo could…

Why did she feel the need to have a second parent? And why hadn’t you realised that she had started to think more into her “friendship” with Jisoo than what it was? Did she want to have a dad so much? Had anyone made her feel like she had to have a dad to fit into your society?

You groaned, stressed. You had to go back and explain to her that she couldn’t have just claimed someone as her dad just because other children in her class had both a mother and a father. Maybe, it was time for you to tell her about her biological dad. God. You were so not ready for THE talk. It was decades too soon.

Centuries.

Okay, most likely just a couple of years, but still. You were a little out of it.

You flinched when someone touched your shoulder out of the blue. No warning. No soothing words. Nada.

Or maybe you just weren’t listening.

‘Hey, are you okay? What happened?’ Jisoo’s worried voice reached you through the fog, his caring attitude overwhelming all of a sudden. He shouldn’t have come after you, it wasn’t like it was his duty to check on you. The only person he might have had some responsibilities towards was your daughter and even that was a stretch in your mind on your darkest days.

You took a step further from him to distance yourself from his… him. However, Jisoo either didn’t catch on to your distress or genuinely believed that his closeness was that one thing you needed to get back to normal because the next thing you knew he was caressing your back with gentle strokes: up and down, up and down.

‘Talk to me,’ he coaxed you, which would have made your heart flutter in any other situation, but only added to your anxiety at that moment. He was doing it again: acting like Haeun and you were a package deal, like you were supposed to matter to him the same way Haeun did just because he had let your daughter claim him as her best friend. And the worst thing was that you just knew your ever so curious daughter could have been watching.

Jisoo was playing into her fantasy of a complete family, and you wanted to scream.

‘You can tell me. We can work it out,’ Jisoo tried to reassure you when all you got was your heavy breathing and even heavier silence.

You looked up at him with angry tears in your eyes and brushed his hand off you.

‘Give me a fucking minute,’ you snapped at him.

The shocked look in his chocolate brown eyes that slowly morphed into hurt filled you with guilt. You shouldn’t have said it like that. You should have had more patience with both him and this whole career day topic. It couldn’t have been healthy: the way you reacted to Haeun asking him to show up in school for her like other fathers did.

‘She… she wants you to be her dad,’ you croaked out eventually, when you mustered up the courage to look up at Jisoo and he was still there, waiting for you to come around patiently like you hadn’t just screamed his head off for caring about you.

You crouched down, too unstable to stand even a moment longer. You wished the street had been a little wider, so Jisoo’s friend could have placed some smaller tables in front of the shop, too, not just inside. You also wished that there were less people giving you the side eye when you leaned your back against Coffee Carat’s wall. Their judging didn’t help at all.

Albeit with a visible distance between the two of you, Jisoo sat on the dirty street at an arm’s length from you and leaned against the shop in a similar way you did. You swallowed down the knot in your throat.

‘She just wants someone to be there for her, too. She didn’t say she wants me to be her dad,’ he corrected you, and before you could have opened your mouth and object, he let out a soft huff and cut you off by adding. ‘Look. I know you think I’m a relationship addict who can’t go a day without being with someone, but… I’m not playing with your daughter’s feelings, or with yours for that matter. It felt nice when she asked me to come since you can’t make it, but I will say no if that’s where your boundaries lie.’

You sucked in your lower lip and observed his face. He looked sincere; he sounded sincere. And a part of you was tempted to ask him to prove to you how much his words were really worth by rejecting your daughter. However, the thought of deliberately sabotaging your baby tugged on your insides in an awful way. You were awful - a selfish mother who was about to steal some of the wonders from her own child’s life because of her fears and insecurities.

But weren’t you allowed to feel how you were feeling? Did you have to put Haeun-ah first all the time to be perceived as a good parent?

‘I just…’ you tapped the sensitive skin under your eyes with your thenar and looked upwards to prevent the unwanted tears. You were a mess in public already, the idea of sinking even lower wasn’t a pleasant one. ‘I don’t want her to think that our family isn’t a good family without a dad.’

There it was, out in the open. Goodness, you could already hear the lecturing in your head how every good family, every healthy family needed both a father and a mother. How it was natural that your daughter was seeking a second parental figure, because that was how things should have been from the get-go. Your parents had made sure these words had been burnt into your very existence before you mutually cut ties with each other. Sometimes you wished, wishing hard enough could have made this universal truth untrue.

You pressed your palms against your ears and let your chin fall on your pulled up kneecaps. Just because you knew it was coming didn’t mean you had to like the scolding.

‘I don’t think you have to worry about that,’ Jisoo started, his voice having a tentative edge to it with a good reason. It was a sensitive topic, and you appreciated that he handled it like one. ‘On the other hand, I wouldn’t call your family small though. Sure, you’re a single mom, but whenever Haeun talks about her family, she talks about her aunt Seola, too. Three people is pretty normal sized to me,’ he shot an encouraging smile in your way, and those unsaid words he might have been too afraid to say out loud after your breakdown were obvious. Haeun had him, too, now, whether you labelled him as a dad, an uncle or an oppa - whether you liked it or not.

You looked up to the sky and took a deep breath. You couldn’t decide whether it would have been appropriate to laugh aloud at that moment, but you did it anyway. Your reality started to resemble a 50-episode-long tv drama and you just couldn’t keep up with the daily updates.

‘God. How is this real? We’re practically strangers,’ you groaned, unsure if you really had the right to put so much responsibility on Jisoo’s shoulders when he had no obligations towards you and your daughter.

He had shown up in your life so out of the blue, so randomly, what had made him so different from anybody else in Seoul?

‘In that… I will take full offence. I thought we were closer than that. After all, I know about the baby daddy despite the NDA,’ he leaned a little closer to you, so he was able to push you gently by your upper arm. That, once again, made you giggle. He was right, you didn’t share so much about your past with just anyone, but still. A part of you couldn’t let go of the idea that he didn’t have any ties to you - not like how your parents had had before they had given up on you. Not like how Inwoo had had before he had had to walk out of your life.

What was the guarantee that someone who wasn’t bound to your family by blood and didn’t share a decade of friendship with you would stick with your duo through thick and thin when none of the aforementioned people had done? People who should have stood by you in spite of the obstacles life threw your way.

‘I’m sorry, I…’ you closed your eyes and shook your head before you buried your face in your hands. You felt so many things in that moment it couldn’t have been healthy. ‘My thoughts aren’t making too much sense right now. I’m just…’

‘You’re afraid Haeun will lose another father figure if I cross that line and show up at the Career Day in her school,’ he finished the sentence on your behalf when words failed you. Your lips trembled when you sneaked a glance at him.

Jisoo wasn’t looking at you. He was looking at his hands on his lap.

‘I’m so sorry,’ you choked on your apology, feeling those unshed tears - you had tried to hold back so desperately - running down your rose-tinted cheeks.

‘It’s okay,’ he said, but you shook your head. ‘No, it really is. You don’t have to apologise for wanting to protect her from future disappointments. Nor should you feel sorry for shielding yourself from potential heartbreak. I understand,’ he reached out, searching for any kind of rejection in your eyes before he touched your head and ruffled your hair.

The sudden change in your conversation reminded you of the night when you had picked him up at that bar, right after he had been dumped by his then girlfriend. Looking in Jisoo’s eyes, you didn’t doubt, not even for a second, that he truly understood a part of your biggest fears and insecurities.

You might have been two sides of the same coin, but that didn’t take away from how, in your core, you were the same: people with an unhealthy perception of relationships.

Funny how it took you almost seven years and a man who had willingly become your little girl’s friend to realise it for the first time in your life: albeit loving your baby girl with your whole heart, you weren’t exactly fine.

You weren’t okay. You weren’t mentally fine.

You might not have seeked professional help for your mental problems immediately as it was hard to convince yourself that you had the spare money for such expenses, but you started to pay more attention to your emotional needs after a long and heavy conversation with your best friend while Haeun was at school. It wasn’t easy. Some days you felt extremely selfish for wanting to have any kind of relationship with Jisoo without including your daughter. Some days you got anxious as soon as Haeun found other people to talk to and let the two of you be. Regardless, you didn’t try to shut him out anymore. Instead, you let yourself feel - both the good and the bad.

You believed that it was a baby step in the right direction when after a long afternoon out with your daughter’s closest friends from school, you allowed Haeun-ah to invite her aunt Seola and Jisoo oppa over for a movie night on her birthday. The three of you easily agreed to let the birthday girl choose what you would watch - even if she had the tendency to re-watch the same two movies for months when she liked them - and in exchange, she let you order the food like you would have gone for anything else but her favourite that day. No one was too surprised when you ended up watching Encanto, during which you weren’t supposed to fall asleep - yet you did.

And that was how your innocent movie night turned into an impromptu sleepover without you noticing. Not that the second part should have shocked you that much. You had been so drained from all the excitement of the afternoon that you failed to wake up for Jisoo carrying you from the couch to your own bed despite the struggles he must have gone through. You weren’t overweight per se, but you wouldn’t have called sixty kilograms light, either.

After all, personally, you couldn’t carry six kilos of groceries home from the neighbourhood market without risking muscle pain.

In the morning, you woke up with a start for a loud crash that reminded you of part-time jobs at 3AM and sleep-deprived kitchen shenanigans with a newborn baby. Your heart was beating like crazy, and your body got tense on automatic as you sat up in your bed, self-destructively uncoordinated. It was a miracle you hadn’t fallen off the furniture, considering how close you were to its edge.

‘What th…’ you mumbled under your nose, trying to decipher your surroundings and rubbing the remnants of sleep out of your eyes. Once the fog cleared up in your mind, you were able to recall Mirabel’s first encounter with her uncle, Bruno; you would remember your daughter singing along with her favourite characters; you could feel the phantom weight of your best friend’s head on your shoulder, but none made you wiser about the rest of the night.

Or the noises that were coming from the kitchen.

To get your answers for the latter, you needed to get out of bed.

Suppressing a yawn solely because you were too used to concealing your tiredness at home, you stretched your body and grabbed your cosy, light-brown cardigan from your chair, so you would have felt more comfortable in your skin so early into the day. If you had had the time, you would have preferred to wash your face, brush your hair and teeth, too, before presenting yourself to whoever was making a mess in your kitchen; however, as soon as you recognised your daughter’s panicky voice, you knew you couldn’t be vain. Haeun-ah clearly needed you, whether you were freshly washed or not.

‘It’s okay, princess. Nothing bad happened, we can clean it up and redo it. We still have so much time,’ Jisoo’s gentle voice reached your ears before you reached the kitchen, your steps slowly coming to a halt before you could have made yourself visible. You didn’t have to be a genius to realise they were making something for breakfast for you, hence your presence would have ruined their surprise.

‘He’s good with her. Aaand, he is handsome,’ your best friend whispered into your ear, her light-hearted giggles managing to relax your tense shoulders despite how eye roll-worthy and unnecessary her observation was. You knew Jisoo was amazing with Haeun; you should also have been blind to not see how appealing he looked.

You let out a resigned sigh.

‘Neither of us is ready for a relationship, and you know it.’ You were pretty sure that you had complained about Jisoo’s unhealthy need to be in a relationship and your own fears of losing him frequently enough during your girly chit-chats for Seola to not forget it. But last night was the first time she had met him, so you could understand her reaction. If you hadn’t been a single mother with responsibilities, you would have also been tempted to turn a blind eye to your mental problems in order to pursue a relationship with him.

However, a relationship with you didn’t mean only two people anymore. It would have been the three of you for the rest of your lives, and you had to protect Haeun-ah from developing abandonment issues. You couldn’t jump into a relationship until you weren’t ready.

‘Well, it doesn’t have to happen now. Duh,’ Seola argued, successfully shutting you up before she nudged you with her elbow, encouraging you to eavesdrop on the conversation that was playing out in the kitchen.

And so you leaned your forehead against the wall and listened to Jisoo as he was drying up your daughter’s crocodile tears, promising her to help her re-decorate your pancakes once he cleaned up the broken pieces on the floor. It was lovely: the man’s endless patience with the little girl and seemingly endless energy when it came to matching her vibe.

You got so immersed in their interaction that you had almost forgotten to sneak back into your bedroom where you fake-slept, so Haeun and Seola could wake you up. Luckily, you had a best friend who not only reminded you of their surprise, but also teased the hell out of you because of that wide smile that had formed on your lips without meaning to.

You were happy. You might have been still afraid to admit it out loud, but one look at your face told it all - at least, according to Seola. You could picture a life in which you woke up to these two making a mess in your kitchen with the best intention in their hearts, and not only that. You wanted to live that life so desperately it was unreal.

Except, with enough determination and constant effort on all three of your parts, you might have been able to become a family one day. If Jisoo had still wanted to give it a try: to family vacations, to movie nights, to you and him, to the long run. You would have said yes.

A thousand times yes.

➼ extra topping

EXTRA TOPPING: WHIPPED (FOR YOU) CREAM

characters: baker!mingyu & food critic!you (Sooyoung - ‘97 liner) genre: coffee shop au, pregnancy au, fluff requested by: this lovely anon date of release: second half of May or early June

#seventeen scenarios #caratwritersclub #jisoo x reader #joshua x reader #jisoo x you #joshua x you #hong jisoo #joshua #ssbyme #seventeen series #coffee shop au #single parent au #single mom au

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17caratssi · 1 year

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the little brat who concern for his parents' marriage life; Woozi

Your son's expression of love is poles apart from his dad's. While the little kid has no problem projecting his affection toward everyone, Jihoon has.

It was just a nice birthday dinner Jihoon had prepared for you and the family of three eating peacefully and merrily with the boy being vibrant for his beloved mother.

Although he is just five years old, he can already sense differences in the treatment he and Jihoon are giving to you. At first, you didn't really pay attention to it since your son never stops talking to you and you knew well how your husband behaves. However, you heard a whole new conversation right after you moved to the kitchen.

"Dad, how come you're not giving mom a kiss on her birthday?"

What on earth? You were suppressing the urgent laughter in your throat as you eavesdropped behind the wall. 'Jihoon wouldn't get pissed at his own kid, right?' you secretly began to imagine having the man scold at his own blood and flesh.

You peered at the corner to study the situation but were caught off guard by Jihoon's later remark.

"Dad will kiss mom when you're not around and you won't even know it,"

And yes, Jihoon never put his lips on you when the little kid is in sight- Not to mention he didn't kiss you on the lips at the wedding too (You never questioned him).

"Dad, you better wish mom a happy birthday because I haven't heard that from you since we come into the house! is what he said to me. I can't believe that brat,"

You chuckled seeing Jihoon's apparent frustration and beckoned at him. You discarded the gap between you two and whispered. "And that brat doesn't know what his dad is capable of doing behind the closed door,"

"You bet,"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

If you like this story, you might as well check out the others here !

#woozi #seventeen woozi #lee jihoon #seventeen #woozi fluff #woozi au #short drabble #one shot #parent au #kiss #seventeen one shot #seventeen fluff #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop one shot

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cuti3chw3 · 2 years

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#instagram au #seventeen x y/n #dad seventeen #seventeen writings #seventeen x reader #svt carat #carat writers #vernon svt #svt vernon #svt vernon x reader #vernon chwe x reader #vernon chwe #vernon chwe smau #cuti3chw3 parent series: chloe chwe [ 💌 ]

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euaphoric · 10 days

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𝟎𝟏. 🥛 ✶𓏲ּ “ i want to sew all my love into you ” — [ 정국이 ]

he was comfort, security, and need, all in one. it had a name; home <3

pairing ◞⁺⊹ husband!jk x wife!reader genre ◞⁺⊹ married/domestic au, pwp, slight age difference (jk is older by 5 years)

warnings ◞⁺⊹ insane tooth-rotting fluff bc i’m in need of high dopamine levels, cute n soft smut, you’re a clingy wifey, minor mentions of anxious/sad thoughts, o/c is kinda whiny and hella attention/touch-starved, o/c just misses her bby fr, daddy kink, major impreg kink, foreplay, they get all sentimental n mushy gushy at the end agghhh, aftercare bc koo is the literal definition of the perfect husband ^_^ wc ◞⁺⊹ 4.6k

音楽 — eyes locked, hands locked by rv

i’m vv excited to be back and writing again, i missed it sm ;(( i did this poll i few days ago and this idea won but i’ve decided to write them all so this is the first of three !! (〃ﾉωﾉ)ﾟ+°

summer days grew humid, each was hotter than the last. though it isn’t your least favorite season, you prefer to spend most of your time indoors as the heat often makes you feel faint and the air can be suffocating. usually these lazy, torrid afternoons were shared with your lovely husband, either you two would be laid up on the sofa or in bed watching your favorite shows/movies but today went a little off schedule.

you were all alone in your bedroom, feeling a bit sulky as your husband wasn’t around to tend to your needs or give you any affection. it’s not jungkook’s fault though; he’s been toiled away since this morning, offering to help your parents move and rearrange some of the new furniture that arrived today. you decided to stay at your family beach house this summer for a change of scenery, you hadn’t been here since you were seventeen, let alone seen your parents in person since last year. spending some quality time together has been long overdue and you couldn’t be any happier about it.

both your parents absolutely adore jungkook, they thought he was the sweetest, kindest, most generous person they’ve ever met— which says a lot considering they’ve never been a fan of anyone you dated previously. when you introduced him to them a few years ago, they had slightly pre-judged him based off his outward appearance, assuming that he wouldn’t be the type to take relationships seriously or even want to settle down and get married someday. but not even hours later their perceptions of him changed drastically, your parents could tell that he was a genuine soul who loved you unconditionally and would do absolutely anything for you.

that very same day, your mom spoke with you privately to express her virtuous first impressions, saying how much she loves him already and this is who you should’ve been dating from the start. your parents had extremely high standards for your future partner, especially your mom— but jungkook exceeded every single one of their expectations, checking all the boxes off their list. “i can tell just by the glint in his eyes whenever he looks at you… he’s more than in love, he’s infatuated. the way he talks about you as if you’re the most wonderful thing to have ever came into his life— he’s definitely going to be the one you’ll marry.” your mom gets all teary eyed as she spoke those last few words, picturing her one and only daughter all grown up, in a beautiful wedding dress, finally getting to see you live your happily ever after.

not even a couple months after graduating from uni you got engaged to the love of your life, proudly getting your degree you worked your ass off for and becoming a soon to be wife. you had to move across the country for a job offer of a lifetime but it was worth it, jungkook was beyond supportive in any decision you made and was there with you every step of the way, holding your hand through it all.

shortly after moving, you two got married and the rest was history, it was stressful dealing with so many life changing events all within a span of such a short time but you somehow managed. had it not been for jungkook’s constant encouragement and willingness to work/talk things out, you would’ve been a complete trainwreck. he was the balance you needed to keep yourself afloat, you felt so lucky, more than blessed to have a caring, understanding man like him.

the more you daydream about him, the more you wished he was holding you right now. you’re feeling lonely, so empty, and a little sad, his absence fills your mind with restless thoughts, hoping that he’ll come to your rescue soon enough. before jungkook, you were highly independent, never needed anyone to take care of you because you did everything for yourself; he never gave up on gaining your trust and has shown time and time again how dependable he is. you’ll forever admire how much effort he’s put into getting to know you over the years, that no one’s ever came close to making you feel the way he does— so high as if you’re soaring through the sky, living in heaven on earth.

he was the main provider of the household, you didn’t have to worry about anything nor lift a finger, all you did was focus on your career. you had a worry free lifestyle, the perfect job, perfect husband, what was there to possibly complain about? most aren’t so fortunate to be in your position so you never took any of it for granted. you love him more than anything in this world, you couldn’t stand to be away from him for another minute, you miss your hubby so much :( you craved his presence near you, needing him around you physically, wanting his soothing touch to ease your mind.

you wanna feel his sunkissed skin against yours, his warmth, the way his scent clouds your senses as he trails kisses down the curve of your neck, tangling your fingers in his dark, wispy hair. you want to lay your head on his broadened chest while snuggling up into him, hearing the gentle sounds of his heartbeat, intertwining your small hands with his large ones. you desire for him to kiss you everywhere, leaving no surface of you going untouched, pinning your body down between him and the mattress, like a flower pressed into the pages of a book and all that’s written is his name over and over. so many different scenarios play in your head as a means to pass the time, but they can only keep you sane for so long.

you’ve grown desperate for him at this point, finally coming out of your room to see what he might be up to now, searching the entirety of the house. you ended up finding him downstairs in the living room with your mom right beside as verbal assistance, not only did he lift and move most of the furniture but now he’s helping to mount up the new TV without even breaking a sweat in the process. was there anything he couldn’t do? probably not, he was a man of endless talents. your dad was sent out to go grocery shopping so your husband was pretty much doing everything on his own while your mom simply watches in amusement.

she was yet again impressed by your husband’s handy work, “wow jungkook, you’re really strong!” he was indeed. now you’re getting flashbacks to when he’d manhandle you and lift your body with ease in one swift motion to switch positions. his hands needed to be all over you right this second or else you’ll simply die of attention starvation. “mom, are you gonna keep him busy all day? ‘m getting really boreddd.” you childishly whine as if you weren’t a fully grown, married adult. to be fair though, it’s been hours since you’ve seen him and as much as you wanted to give him some space to help out around the house, you still had your needs to. the need in question being him in your bed, immediately.

“why don’t you go sit by the pool or something? you’ve been cooped up in that room since this morning, get some fresh air!” your mom suggests an alternative to wait but you shook your head in an instant, “nuh uh, too hot, i’ll melt like an ice cream cone!” you’d rather stay locked inside your air conditioned room than having to deal with the searing hot sun baking you well done at 450 degrees. “i’m almost done sweetheart, promise.” jungkook quickly reassures before hammering one of the nails into the wall, the way his veins would protrude through his arms as he repeats the action made you mindlessly clench your thighs together. he could make anything look insanely hot, it was almost unfair.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

after another twenty minutes or so he was finally done and now free to go, thrilled to have him all to yourself once again. you practically yanked his arm off as you led him up the staircase but your mom had one more thing to say, “will you be helping us tonight with dinner? i’m making your favorite!” he turns for a second to answer, “uh- yes of course !” that enthusiastic, bunny-like smile of his that you’ve grown to love for so long never fails to make you melt, just so effortlessly pretty without even trying.

but now you realize that you only have a limited amount of time with him, great… you’ll have to wait even longer to have him exactly as you’ve imagined. there’s only so much pent up sexual frustration you can take, you’ve been patient for almost eight hours. that’s probably the longest you two might’ve gone without having sex— okay maybe that’s an exaggeration but you do have a very active sex life with your husband, you try to do it at least twice a day and if you’re both feeling a little friskier it can sometimes go up to 4-5 times~.

your sex drive used to be quite low, never really seeing it as a huge necessity for you— until you met jungkook, of course. there was an immediate sexual attraction that you felt towards him, you’ve never felt so drawn to anyone before, he was irresistible. you’ve had some internal issues with your performance in the bedroom, it took a lot for you to reach your peak but could never get yourself to finish (unless you did it yourself) but with jungkook? that’s a whole different ballgame. you could simply cream in your panties just from kissing those luscious lips of his, he ignites a fire in you that’ll never wither into ashes.

once the door to your room was closed, both his hands found purchase around your waist, caging you into him and pulling you in for a deep kiss, melting right into his hold. your bodies flowing with pure lust and greed for him, not even thinking twice as your hand travels down lower to palm him through his sweats. he let out a breathy chuckle from your sudden actions once he pulled away, “someone’s feelin’ kinda slutty tonight.” he teased, which you took no offense since that’s just your collective humor.

“mhmm, ‘m only the biggest slut for you. now stop neglecting your wifey and gimme all your love.” since he hasn’t been giving you much attention all day you were acting a bit whiny about it, jungkook didn’t like that word though, neglect? that just wasn’t something in his vocabulary when it came to you. “huh? don’t ever say that again, you know i’d never purposefully neglect you, ever.” he made sure to emphasize that, he knows you weren’t being serious but it does hurt a little to know you may secretly feel this way. he loves you and you can feel it without him even needing to say it, that’s how intense it is.

“it was just a joke koo… didn’t mean it like that.” you jut your lip into a tiny pout, leaning in to kiss him again but he turns away, denying you the void of what you wanted most. “a joke is supposed to be funny last time i checked.” he retorts before sneaking off to make a beeline towards the bed, confused when you don’t follow suit after him. “what’re you standing there for? get your little butt over here.” he impatiently demands, patting his lap for you to sit on top. you listen and make your way over to him, straddling his lap with both legs on either side of him as he brings you in closer. he wraps his arms around your waist again, tightly holding you in his grasp, your frame sinks right into his chest.

he locks his lips with yours, kissing you slowly, taking his sweet, sweet time; what’s the rush? you had the rest of the night at your disposal. needy hips languidly rock back and forth against his semi hard-on, the fabric of the pajamas shorts you wore were so thin you could feel his cock throbbing underneath. you audibly gasped when he brushes up against your weak spot, it feels amazing, your panties turned into a sticky puddle from the pleasure; moaning into the kiss as he inhales your sighs. you were more than hungry for him, you were ravenous— only the taste of him could quench your avid thirst. you’re already as close as you can be but you wish to be even closer, if it was impossible you’d crawl into his skin and fuse your bones together to become one, you’re so in love it sickens you.

“need you to touch me,” you whimper for more when his lips drew from yours momentarily, “please.”

jungkook loves seeing you like this, his pretty wife acting all hot and bothered just for him, but he’d lying if he said it wasn’t the same way for you too. “where baby ?” his warm breath against you leaves a shiver to your spine, his voice low and raspy. “everywhere.” you beg in desperation, “just wanna to feel you, need you so bad…” you continued to grind your core onto his clothed erection, becoming even whinier as time passes.

he smirks at that answer, knowing that he’s the only one that can have you in this way. “need you too baby,” his tone is nothing short of a whisper, lazily rutting his hips up to match the pace of your movement, “been thinkin’ about you all day, can’t wait to fuck this little pussy.” his middle and index finds your clit to rub through your pajamas, making you bite your lip so hard it’ll leave a bruise. you’re both so horny and desperate for each other like some hormonal teens, you’re about to explode from how sensitive you are, your whole body feels tingly.

“jungkook!” a familiar voice shouts from a distance, it was muffled but you know that was definitely your mom who just called for him. “come back downstairs, i think something’s wrong with the remote, it’s not working— help !” she sounded a bit overdramatic which is how she usually is most of the time. you groan in annoyance, getting even more frustrated that you had to stop, all you want is some private alone time with your husband but no, the universe said not today! you really wanna curse your mom for being a total cock block right now .. -_-

๑ ๑ ๑

“i’m gonna put a baby in you someday.” your husband casually says while rubbing your stomach, his inked skin splayed across your bare form. “in this cute little tummy right here.” he points near your belly button, planting a small kiss to it. you two were finally alone once again and this time it was for good. after jungkook helped your mom figure out what was wrong with the remote (it wasn’t broken, she just forgot to put a new set of batteries in) and ate dinner with you and your parents, the night was bound to end like this.

this isn’t the first time he’s said something like this and it surely won’t be the last, but you burst into a giggle, “quit kidding around kook.” he’s always playing around but you can count on one hand how many times he’s actually finished inside you, since you’re not on birth control for health reasons you have to be extra careful to not end up getting pregnant. there’s been a handful of times where he’s had to run to the store and get you a morning after pill which you’d just hope for the best and leave it up to the universe. you have noticed that jungkook has been more vocal about wanting children lately, so maybe he’s hinting at finally taking the next step.

“and if i told you i wasn’t?” he shifts slightly, eyes flickering up to stare into your gaze. “would you let me paint your walls ? give you a baby so i can see my stunning wife bear our children?” the thought of you carrying his child pops into his head a lot, probably on an hourly basis— he’s more than ready to start a family, but he’s still not sure where you stand 100% on the idea. there was no pressure on his side, but it’s important to make sure you’re both on the same page.

your hands snake up to his chin, cupping it firmly, ready to make the final say once and for all. “yes koo, i’ll let you do anything to me. i trust you, i trust us.” that’s all you need to withstand through any obstacle(s), trust and trust alone. if that doesn’t exist, the foundation will be sure to crumble— disintegrating into nothing. you’ve never trusted someone as much as you do jungkook, he’s the reason you even get out of bed at times, makes you want to push yourself to become a better person. real love is the refusal to never give up on one another, even through the toughest, most ugliest moments.

what you’ve come to realize is that you have all of him and everything he’s promised to provide is all yours; his heart, his last name, his vow to stay by your side forever— through sickness and health. he’s given every single aspect of himself he has to offer, the only thing left that’s missing is a tiny addition that carries both you and jungkook’s DNA. you’re more than curious to see what the outcome will be, harboring no regrets inside. jungkook’s smile grew wider, feeling faint tears rim his eyes at the thought of you putting all your trust in him. you have no idea just how much that means to him.

his head lowers back to your torso, imprinting a trail of kisses, slowly making his way down further and further. your skin feels as if it’s on fire, boiling hot like the scorching summer heat. he took an ample amount of time to worship your body, leaving wet kisses to your inner thighs, “i’ve wanted this for so long…” he hums against your flesh, insides buzzing with raw passion and desire. “want to finally do this together.” he gently nibbles, a faint bite mark appears to which he repeats on the other side. “your tits are gonna get even bigger, more plump and so full of milk,” he continues, elated with so much enthusiasm, “that pregnancy glow will make you even more gorgeous.” he wasn’t saying all of this for nothing, he truly cannot wait to experience it all, how your belly will grow each month, all the random/weird food cravings you’ll get, and gracefully handle any sudden mood swings.

you were aching for him, you couldn’t even answer back, your heads reeling with too many thoughts— the thought of him stuffing you to the brim with his cock. you were topless but wanted him to take off the rest, wanted him to fuck you until your body physically shakes and you can’t think of anything but him being buried balls deep into your sousing cunt. you had to savour every last bit of this though, etch every little detail in your brain to replay as a supercut one day; remembering the time you two made love to conceive your first child.

jungkook’s slender digits move skillfully to hook around the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down along with your drenched panties. “it’s crazy to me how this is all mine,” he pauses to admire your glistening arousal, scooping it up with his one of his fingers to have a quick taste. saccharine. “i have the prettiest, sexiest, hottest wife in the whole fucking world.” he’ll never not compliment you, even when you’re old and gray he will always remain the same. “stopp~” you toy with your bottom lip, cheeks turning rosy at his constant sweet talk. then you become a pile of mush, simply too absorbed with pleasure as he sunk one of his digits into you, thrusting in and out slowly. “fuck.. feels s’good- please don’t stop.” you beg for this to never end, bidding all concept of time to vanish in hopes of it lasting infinitely.

“we’re going to create the most beautiful family,” he coos, licking a stripe to your clit, swiping up and down as he continued pumping his fingers in your wetness, “just you and me.” he only came up for air to say those last few lines, diving right back in to drink up your deliciousness. his tongue adds light pressure to your overly sensitive bud, making you twitch and subconsciously jolt up— his free hand forcibly brings your hips back down, locking you in place so you have nowhere to go— forced to take all that he gives you. paradise. that’s what this is. you’re already close to the edge, the broken moans that escaped your lips are like a soft ballad to his ears, cursing under your breath, panting, crying out his name repeatedly.

“ah! s’close… don’t stop, don’t stop..” you plea so pathetically, voice getting shakier as you reach your climax, his face was soaked, fucking drenched. he’ll willingly drown, submerge himself into the flood of you, no other place he’d rather be than between these perfect, plush thighs. he drives you into further insanity when his pace drew more rapid, finding the ultimate sweet spot. the lethal combination of his fingers and his tongue working to give you a mind blowing orgasm, all you could do was utter feeble, plaintive cries, latching onto his fluffy hair as you ride out your sudden high that’s stampeding into you full force. your body goes inert, limbs pliant beneath his embrace. “you did so good for me angel, m’so proud of you.” jungkook briefly pecks both your thighs, giving it a little smack once he comes back up to face you again.

he quickly discards the rest of his clothes, but everything’s moving in slow motion. his movements are frantic yet it still wasn’t quick enough, he needs to feel you so badly. his manhood throbs against your folds, sliding his shaft between the puffy, saturated lips, making such delightful sounds. “quit teasin’,” you whine, not in the mood for prolonging this anymore. he doesn’t say anything, just twisting a smile in response, but he’ll give you exactly what you want. who is he to deny his wife’s orders? so he finally enters you, filling you up little by little, inch by inch; and when he’s fully settled in, your walls clench around his length immediately. “never fails to amaze me how i fuck this little pussy on the daily but you’re still so fuckin’ tight… always squeezin’ me babe.” his breath hitched towards the end, already sounding so pussydrunk from the way you suck in the entirety of him.

your legs hook around each side of his waist, keening at the way his cock drives into you, slow but sensual, moving your hips to match his rhythm. “be good for daddy and wait for me. wanna cum together.” he husks, to which you obediently nod at his request. your jaw slacks open wide from his cock hitting your walls beautifully, each stroke he gave sent you to a further state of delirium. he picks up his speed a little more, his brain empty with no thoughts but this warm, dewy pussy swallowing him up, groaning as you leave scratches along his back. jungkook’s sweet compliments never stop, they only intensify. ‘you’re all mine, and i’m all yours baby’ ‘your face looks so pretty when it’s all fucked out’ ‘love fucking this perfect little cunt’ and ‘i love you so much, my angel baby.’ it brings you to the verge, strings of shattered moans evade your senses.

your hands greedily come up the sides of his face, pulling him in for a frenzied, yet passionate kiss caging him in just in case he has second thoughts, trapping him with no choice but to cum inside. “shit— keep going like that and you’re def getting pregnant tonight.” he groans against your lips, this only made you clench around him tighter, “please daddy- wan’ your cum, put your babies in me..” you want him to paint your walls white, milk him for all he’s worth and some. his strokes get sloppier as his high approaches, squeezing your thighs as he plunges deeper. it doesn’t take much longer for him to shoot a hefty in load inside, planting every bit of his seed as the waves of your second orgasm ripples through you. you’re both heavily panting and gasping for air, when he pulls out you’re left empty again, but at least you were stuffed with his hot cum. he looks down at the mess he’s made, sodden and creamy, picking up some that’s spilled out of your cunt to push back in. “we can’t let any go to waste, right ?” “mm… yea.” you bit your lip, still shaking, electricity flowing through your veins.

he topples over in exhaustion, way too tired to move. well, at least for now— he’ll be able to go again in another hour or so. “you’re going to be such an amazing mom,” he says while snuggling up in the crook of your neck, “remember the day i asked you out? i thought you were gonna say no.” that was random… but also jungkook is known for saying the most unexpected shit at the oddest times. “what ?” you were so confused, firstly this came out of nowhere but also why would he ever think that? it was basically love at first sight with each other. “wasn’t nearly as confident back then, i used to practice in the mirror how i’d do it.” he chuckles at those old memories, in hindsight none of it was necessary because he didn’t say any of the lines he rehearsed. defeated the whole purpose.

“since the day we first met i knew you were the girl i’d spend the rest of eternity with.” his fingers trace down your spine as he spoke, you’re so overfilled with joy that you could cry. you regret absolutely nothing, the only thing you do is all the other men who came before jungkook, all those losers who were wastes of time, but that journey has led you here and this is where you’ll stay for the rest of your life. it still feels like the honeymoon stage with him, a never ending blissful rollercoaster. “i want to sew all my love into you,” his hands danced around your skin, inhaling your natural scent, you feel so soft and smooth. “thread by thread, seam by seam, i’ll tether our intricate souls together.” you hummed to his words, he’s a romantic at heart just like you, he still writes occasional love letters to you and is always doing something to bring a smile to your face— whether it be coming home with your favorite candy, buying you flowers, or taking you out on cute, fun dates. every day is like a new surprise, never knowing what you’re gonna get when it comes to your husband’s spontaneity.

you’re both a little sticky, sweaty, and smell of nothing but pure sex. jungkook ends up carrying you all the way to the bathroom, deciding to run a nice, relaxing bath for the two of you. he adds your favorite lavender bubble bath, making the water extra bubbly and soapy for you which he knows you love. when you're both in the bathtub, your backs facing him as he uses a pink loofah to clean you up, embedding gentle kisses to the nape of your neck and shoulders as he does it. he held you for what seemed like forever, just admiring each other’s company while under the water, almost falling asleep right in his arms.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

let’s make the circle

that’s inside of us.

every day it rotates like that,

color me ☆ 彡

am trying to write longer stufff, i enjoyed writing this story a lot, lmk what you think . ! ! !

to see more chaos click here (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ ♡♡♡ (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jjk smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic

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frailtierx · 1 year

Text

Family snippets ( Soonhoon )

Genre: Slice of life (Family life)

Characters: Woozi x Soonyoung ; mention of child/ren

"Ica! I told you no playing inside my office!" Woozi shouted at his daughter. At the same time, a rushing Soonyoung from the kitchen immediately went to his crying daughter's side.

"Are you okay, bub?" Sy asked their kid and looked at Wz questionably.

At that moment, Woozi felt that it was all his fault again and again and again. In response, he threw the wet coffee-stained documents on the floor and loudly closed the door after he got into his office.

"Stop crying bub. Dad's just stressed out. He doesn't want to be mad at you at all. Go back to your room first and I'll talk to dad first, okay?" Sy told his kid. He led her to her room before leaving for Wz's office.

Sy picked up the wet documents and tried to pat it dry so it could at least be readable when it dries out. After a while when he finished drying them out, he picked them all and went to Wz's office.

"So Hun..." Sy stood in the doorway while smiling at his husband.

"Sorry for earlier," Wz said pouting while he walked to hug his battery charger. "I'm sorry I was just so stressed today, " Wz whined. "Wait... did you dry it out for me? I could just print them out again." Wz said as he noticed the stacked paper Sy held in his arms.

"There were handwritten notes and I bet they're important. I know you're anxious about the upcoming meeting with the board but next time talk calmly with the kid. What happened wasn't intentional afterall."

"Yeah... Sorry." Wz said as he breathe heavy puffs onto Sy shoulders

"Are you fine already? You know that I'm not the person you should apologize to, right? Will you go with me to apologize to our kid? We can't have our little bug carry a little burden in her heart before sleeping, right?" Wz nodded as the two walked upstairs.

Woozi might be a famous producer and a heavyweight in the music industry but at home, his husband is still his little baby.

The little kid is firmly hugging his little tiger while sniffing.

Wz felt heavyhearted seeing his little baby like this. He shouldn't have been that mad earlier.

The two said sorry while Sy stared at his precious people, right there, he knew he was where he belongs- with his family.

#svt #fanfiction #parenting #family #svt hoshi #woozi seventeen #seventeen au #slice of life

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rinhaler · 12 days

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I Should Just Walk Away !

His knuckles are split, what are you meant to do? Not tend his wounds? Someone’s gotta do it! It doesn’t mean you’re going to fuck him again. No way.

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot (and a sprinkle of angst?) Notes: I'm gonna make a masterlist and stuff bc I love this au but I'm lazy pls bear with me! ♡ Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, blood ♡, wound care, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, tit sucking ♡, slight edging?, dacryphilia, m+f masturbation, car sex ♡, vaginal sex, creampie ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, kid), mutual pining ♡, angst??, calls ur pussy she/her ♡, (lmk if i missed any!!) Words: 8k

—

Even after proclamations of love for each other, the rest of the ride home is silent and uncomfortable. In hindsight, it might not have been the best decision to divulge the truth of your tryst with Sukuna to your little brother.

You could try to reassure him. But what would be the point? You’re only a few years older than him, yet somehow, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a teenager. When you were Megumi’s age, though, you had parents.

They were alive.

Sure, you were somewhat rebellious but you behaved for the most part. You studied, worked hard, steered clear of ‘bad’ boys. And, as Sukuna so elegantly put it, you’re a ‘snooty doctor’. You’re thankful for that, because without that salary you’d never be able to afford subsidising your brother.

You had your parents.

But you’re all Megumi has.

It’s a little unsettling how quiet he’s actually being. You were bickering not too long ago, you’re taken aback that he seems to have no desire to continue. A fleeting thought that he might be trying to punish you enters your mind.

Your head snaps a few times to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same. There’s a little grimace on his face as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

It’s disgust.

“Are we okay?” you wonder, and the way it leaves your lips in a warble must be pathetic for your brother to hear. He scoffs immediately after, still outright refusing to say another word. You make sure to keep an eye on the road, though your gaze can’t help but wander towards your sibling when you get a chance. “I’m just going to make sure he’s patched up properly, okay? He’s not staying the night.”

“As if that matters.” he rolls his eyes.

It should matter. You don’t know what he means, and you don’t dare ask him to elaborate. There’s no reason for you to be scared of a seventeen-year-old. You aren’t. You’re more afraid of disappointing him.

“Megumi…” you take a breath. “It’s late. I think we should talk properly tomorrow.”

He takes a breath not too dissimilar to yours, you aren’t sure if it’s inherited or if it’s a habit he’s picked up from you. Is he mocking you? He doesn’t say much more, shrugging his shoulders is an answer all on its own. And still, it makes your heart twist as anxiety pierces through it like a stake.

“Fine.”

“Really?!” you bark out unintentionally. Maybe he’s more mature than you’ve given him credit for, because agreeing to talk properly is the last thing you expected. Your eyebrows knot briefly, and you look at him again when you reach a red light. “Are you fucking with me? You’re not serious, are you? You’re gonna sneak out in the morning and I won’t see you until—”

“I said fine. Didn’t I?” he grunts. “At least be quiet when you fuck him if you insist on lecturing me in the morning.”

“I’m not doing it again, I told you.” you assure him. “It was a stupid mistake and I regret it but I just wanna make sure his hand is okay. And then I’ll tell him to leave. I promise.”

“Should prob’ly tell him that, ‘cause he won’t stick around once he realises.” you both find yourselves looking in the rearview mirror at the man following behind you at a distance before quickly averting your eyes. “Don’t make promises you’re not gonna keep. You sound like my dad.”

“Ouch, babe. Noted.” you laugh a little despite being genuinely offended.

The rest of the journey is completed with your brain on auto-pilot. You aren’t even sure how you made it home without crashing once you realise you’ve parked perfectly in the driveway.

Megumi snatches your purse and ducks out of the car, making a beeline for the front door. You watch him as you allow your head to gently thud against the headrest behind you; he’s frantically looking for the house keys so he can shield himself from any possible sighting of you and his boss together.

He drops your purse on the ground with little care once he finds what he’s looking for, and you’re startled when you hear a knuckle lightly rap against your window.

“Nice place, princess.” he speaks, though it’s slightly muffled by the closed window.

“Stop calling me—”

“Oi. Pick up the purse.” Sukuna warns your little brother before he can hide indoors.

He looks over his shoulder at you both before slowly crouching down to pick it up. He grips it tight before finally disappearing.

Sukuna gives you room to breathe before offering a hand to help you out. Like you’ve never gotten out of your car before. Instead of taking it, you stare. You stare at his obscenely large hand and can’t help but remember his fingers had been inside of you mere moments ago.

You smile, as politely as you can, before hurriedly chasing after your brother.

He saunters after you with a lazy smirk playing on his features. You only see it when you remember you’d forgotten to lock your car. The sound of his Mercedes locking is a deafening reminder.

You enter your home; he hadn’t even bothered to turn a single light on as he charged straight towards the kitchen. You’d expected him to have locked himself in his bedroom by now. But instead, his silhouette is illuminated by the light emanating from the open fridge.

He grunts when you switch on the living room light, looking at you like a raccoon caught going through the trash as he chomps down on the cereal you’d bought on the way home from work.

“Can you get the first aid kit from the cupboard?” you ask him as you take off your coat and throw it down over the back of the couch. “You shouldn’t be eating so late, y’know.”

“I’m starving. I didn’t eat today, ‘m a growing boy, y’know.” he counters. He moves to look through each and every cupboard. He looks at you and shrugs before continuing to eat.

Your eyes are both directed to the sound of a gently closing door. You half smile at Sukuna as he enters before you look at your brother again in contemplation.

“Oh I moved it to the bathroom ‘cause we never use it.” you sigh as you make your way there. “You can finish eating in your room if you want.”

“Tryna get me out the way?” he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I don’t wanna stick around here anyway.” he side eyes Sukuna as he walks with his bowl towards his room.

You don’t see the amused grin he offers your little brother while you retrieve the first aid kit.

If you had, you’re sure you would have sent him home too.

“Sorry,” you groan, setting the kit down on the coffee table. You stand with your hands on your hips as you stare at him. It’s dawning on you, now, regardless of how exhausted you are. You’ve let a man you barely know into your home. A man older and stronger than you’d ever hope to be. You’ve welcomed a criminal into the space that is meant to be the safest for your little brother.

“I’m not gonna kill ya, sweetheart.” he cuts through your thoughts as if he can read your mind. It makes your heart race, though your face remains stoic as you try and disguise your evident worry. “Last thing I wanna do is scare you, though. I’ll go if you’re—”

“No, it’s fine.” you interject. “I’m tired, though. I’m gonna get changed because I wanna go straight to sleep after this, okay? You’re not staying.”

“Shame, I had fun.” he grins, circling the couch before sinking into it. His body is angled towards you while his eye looks you up and down with purpose. “Get comfy, I’ll be right here waiting for you, darlin’.”

Even someone as headstrong as you can’t deny how giddy he makes you. You walk backwards, unable to take your eyes off him before you eventually find your bedroom. Everything he says is so intentional, it’s almost vindictive. Like he knows just what to say to have you weak at the knees for him.

But this isn’t you.

You’ve never been the type to fall for a man’s alleged charm quite so easily. But you also didn’t think you were the type of person to fuck a stranger. He isn’t exactly a stranger, though.

He’s Megumi’s boss.

“Stop calling him that.” you whisper to yourself as you try and break yourself out of your spiralling train of thought.

You dress yourself in the most unflattering pyjamas you can find, wearing them with the full expectation of turning Sukuna off of you. He can’t possibly still be angling to fuck again when he sees you in mismatched pyjamas, complete with aged holes and stains from that one spaghetti night you and Megumi attempted.

There’s a feeble attempt made at wiping your makeup off, although you barely try. Your smile is almost blinding as you look at what a mess you are. The panda eyes from your smeared eyeliner and mascara enhance your sunken eyebags. Your eyeshadow glitters across the bridge of your nose and into your hairline beside your temples. Your pretty lipstick that you’d lined so perfectly is half removed while the other half is smudged down your chin.

You emerge from your bedroom with a confidence you only ever experience when you’re at home in your comfiest clothes. Despite your appearance, and even despite your company, you’re so content.

His eyes squint as he looks at your face, and even still, he’s smiling. He chuckles softly as you get closer to him, sitting beside him as you open the first aid kit.

“You look way prettier like this, princess.” he tells you, folding his arms across his chest as he continues to stare.

“Ah! Really? You think I look prettier?” you ask sarcastically.

“No, you look awful.” he laughs. “Is this all for my benefit? I still want to fuck you, admirable attempt though.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes as he laughs a little more, and you force yourself to frown when you realise his laughter is contagious. Everything he does is so effortless; you can’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled so hard it hurt your cheeks.

His eye fixates on you as you begin to look through your little first aid kit and pick a few things to use on his knuckles.

“I’m sure you could have done this yourself,” you start as you pick up a packet of antiseptic wipes and begin to clear the blood surrounding his knuckles. “Could have gone to a walk-in place if you were really worried.”

“Of course I could. Been doing this for years, did you really believe I don’t have my own first aid kit?” he asks. “I wanted you to do it.” he confesses, though he’s no longer smiling. You don’t stop wiping away the combination of wet and crusted over blood on his hand, though you can’t help but stare back at him.

Is he trying to scare you?

“You’re unbelievable.” you tell him, quietly.

“It’s hard to do it with one hand, sweetheart. And you’re a professional, I’d have to be an idiot to do it myself.”

You look away, only to pour rubbing alcohol onto a clean wipe. He can’t help but be transfixed as he watches you, admiring how your dainty little hands are so delicate with the equipment. How your face appears so irritated as you perform tedious tasks such as this, but you do it regardless, and he thinks it’s sweet.

“You should be on my payroll,” he finally smiles again. “My private doctor.”

“No.” you shut him down.

“I forgot how stuck up you are. I thought you’d at least be fununtil tomorrow.”

“Be grateful I’m doing this at all.” you reply with ease. All enjoyment and giddiness over his company seems to be a distant memory as you recall the type of man he actually is. You’re grouchy and exhausted, and he’s testing your patience. “I don’t like you and I don’t like what you do. And I hate that you’re involving Megumi.”

“Lighten. Up.” he warns you.

You press the wipe quickly into his cuts, and you can’t help but smile as he winces from the abrupt stinging pain. You laugh harder as he tries to downplay it. His expression becomes unreadable as he tries to appear detached. You can see it in his visible eye, though. It’s watering.

He can’t help but break at the sound of your laughter, however, as you continue to snicker whilst rummaging through for a roll of gauze to wrap around his knuckles.

“I usually don’t crack when I do that myself. You wanted it to hurt.” he smirks, shaking his head.

“Guilty.” you continue to giggle as you face him again.

He doesn’t say another word as he watches you wrap a thick enough layer of bandages around his bloody knuckles. The somewhat shallow lacerations seem to cause slight discomfort despite being taken care of. You watch him, purposefully, as he flexes his fingers a few times to test how it feels.

You aren’t sure if he knows you’re staring, but his guard seems down. It could be an act to disarm you, but you aren’t convinced he’s a good enough actor to pull it off. The genuine curiosity and intrigue on his face due to your handiwork makes you feel off. Is he judging your ability to provide proper care?

It’s not like you wanted to.

But you both know that’s a lie.

He grins when he finally notices you staring at him. And that makes you relax. You were right, he was genuinely lost in thought despite being in your presence.

“You should go now,” you say quietly. You angle your body to rest your arm over the back of the couch, your balled fist supporting your head as you begin to yawn. “I’m tired.”

“Sure.” he nods, moving to stand before relaxing into the soft seating. “I need your number.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, ya need to give it to me sweetheart,” he smirks, mirroring your body language. “Need it so I can tell you when I wanna see you again.”

You scoff, shaking your head defiantly at his bold claim. The thought of him clicking his fingers for you to come running like a loyal lap dog is almost enough to make you gag. You’d slap him if it wasn’t so late, you’re too tired and you don’t want to cause a fuss for Megumi or your neighbours.

“You’re never gonna see me again,” you smile, biting your lip as you look him up and down. “And you’re not seeing Megumi, either. He’s done with your little fight club. And I’m done with you, period.”

“Aren’t you meant to be smart? Concerning that a doctor could be so naïve.” he squints slightly as he regards you, looking you up and down as you had him. You’re so sure of yourself, he can’t help but wonder if you’ve forgotten about your current appearance. “I’ll be seein’ you both again. Megumi isn’t quitting. And I like you, and I’m not the type of man to give up things I like.”

“Tough shit,” you laugh lightly. “You’re gonna have to find another poor woman to pester. I’ve got enough going on without dealing with a loser like you.”

“A loser? Really?” he chortles. “You were moaning on my dick and calling me daddy earlier. Now I’m a loser?”

“Shut up.”

He leans in close to you, noses almost touching and his smile widens further as he sees how glittery your face is from your poor makeup removal. “Are you only going to be nice to me when I fuck that brat out of you?”

You turn your head away, your heart racing as your body betrays you. The want and desire bubbles in the pit of your stomach. But you can’t. You know you can’t; because you promised.

He isn’t special.

Sukuna is not special.

“You’re not fucking anything out of me.” you tell him, peering out of the corner of your eye to see him look a little surprised at your declaration. He thought you were playing hard to get. You aren’t playing. “It was a one-time thing.”

“Really?” he asks, barely missing a beat as he responds. “I don’t understand you. I thought—”

“Of course you don’t understand me. You’ve known me for a few hours. Just because we’ve fucked doesn’t mean you know me.” you remind him. And he nods, he agrees with you. He’d be a fool not to, and the man is no fool. “It was just a heat of the moment mistake. I mean it. I don’t want to see you again and I’m not letting Megumi fight anymore.”

“Why?”

“Why?” you scoff. “He’s a child. It’s dangerous. I don’t want him—”

“No, sweetheart. I’m not stupid, I know why you don’t want him to fight anymore. Do I look like a moron to you?” he asks, voice gruff and harsh as he interrupts without a care. His temper is visible and rising as he begins to run out of patience for your attitude with him. “Why don’t you want to see me?”

“Because you’re shady and I don’t want to upset my brother. He’s already upset, I don’t want to make it worse.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“Excuse m—”

“That’s a reason why Megumi doesn’t want you to see me. Yeah I’m a little shady, but you like me. I know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me come over here, see where and how you live, and tend my wounds like a good girl.” he sneers.

“Fine. I don’t like you and I don’t want to have a platonic relationship with a criminal. Let alone a romantic one. What happened earlier was a mistake.”

“… You’re lying.” he says, and it’s curt. You cross your arms over your chest and shake your head with an amused laugh as you digest his denial. How he can sit there and act so full of himself when you’re being perfectly clear is beyond you. It’s jarring.

You jolt as you feel thick fingers lightly grip your jaw. Your wandering gaze is now brought to him. Your eyes forced to fixate on the placid expression plastered across chiselled features.

“I see you, princess. You don’t wanna see me because you want to get mixed up with a criminal, and you’re scared of that. I see you.”

You stare at him, licking your lips not so discreetly as he continues to cradle your jaw. His lips curl at the sight of the little pink muscle slipping between your lips to wet them. You’re angry. Furious at yourself for letting him touch you, hold you, like this. And you hate yourself, right now. Maybe even more than you hate him, too.

Because he’s right.

Your lack of action gives him cause to stare down at your shimmering lips, it’s a warning. A silent announcement for what he’s about to do. He doesn’t let go, but his head tilts. He leans in closer to you, daring to give you what you both know you want.

And again, he’s thwarted.

You turn away, unable to look at him right after this time.

“… You should go, now.” you tell him.

He sighs, but pulls away. You almost mewl as his thumb softly swipes across your chin. And when he withdraws it, you feel your body fill with loneliness. Your skin feels colder.

And it hurts, because he’s on the right track. You’re pushing him away because of Megumi. But deep down, as much as you crave him right now, you know it’s the right thing to do. You jolt a little as he abruptly stands up from the couch, the breeze from his movement makes you freeze.

He sees it.

“Go to bed, you’ll warm up.” he says bluntly before making his way towards the front door. He stops as he grabs the handle, holding up his bloodied knuckles. “Thank you, for the first aid.”

“It’s… it’s fine. No problem. Goodnight, S-Sukuna.” you say, cursing yourself for the audible whine in your words despite your attempted conviction. You watch him as he grabs the handle before turning to face you again.

“Come with me.” he tells you, curling the tip of his index finger. “I need to give you something, don’t argue. For once.” he demands.

You’re compelled to follow, in spite of his demeaning way of summoning you. You truly don’t want him to leave, you don’t want him to go, so any extra time you can spend with him, you’ll take.

He walks ahead of you, leaving you shivering in the doorway as you try and preserve any warmth you can. He opens the door to his car and turns around, a little bewildered that you aren’t right behind him. It makes you giggle to see him look around in search of you before he finally spots you still at the front door.

“Come here.”

You close the door and rush to his side, quickly looking back to make sure Megumi isn’t looking for you. He rests his arm atop the roof of his Mercedes, before holding out a small piece of paper between his fingers to you.

It’s a business card.

“What kind of thug needs a business card?” you ask before you even think about what you’re saying. He scoffs, squinting at you.

“You’ve only fucked me once, you don’t know me.” he smirks. And at that, you can’t help but laugh. “What you said… makes it seem like we’ll learn more about each other if we keep fucking.”

“I don’t want to know you, Sukuna.” you sigh, reluctant to keep up the charade. Reluctant to keep pretending he doesn’t excite you. To keep pretending the few hours you’ve spent with him haven’t been the liveliest your life has been in years. Maybe ever, really. “I can’t be selfish, you don’t get it.”

“You’d be surprised.” he says, abruptly. “Why did you follow me out here if you don’t want to know me?”

“Because you asked me to, you said you wanted to give me something…”

“You could have said no. Do you always do what people tell you? You wanted to. I wanted you to. And now you’re here, you have my number. If you want to be selfish… you know where I am.”

“I don’t—” you sigh, shivering aggressively before you push his card back into his chest. “I don’t need this.”

He grabs your wrist hellbent on sending you away with this one little piece of the puzzle of his life. A way to talk to him again if you change your mind. He’s giving you access, he wants you to take it, desperately.

He crouches down, levelling his head with your own so his one, uncovered eye is levelled with yours. He can’t help but smile, it’s almost maniacal, as he watches your resolve falter under his glare.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, kid.” he grins. “And you’re not all that smart, for a doctor.”

Your face burns with heat. And you can’t tell if it’s rage or lust. Do you want to kiss him or kill him? You don’t know, you don’t know. His smile grows wider as he realises what he’s done to you. Your faces are so close to each other and this time you can’t will yourself to turn away. You can’t submit, not after this.

“I’m smarter than you.” is all you can think to say. It feels pathetic and phoned in. And he reads it, too, by the ever-growing look of amusement on his face.

“I don’t doubt that.” he nods. “What’s got you all hot ‘n bothered, hm? ‘Cause I called you a dumb li’l doctor? Or ‘cause daddy, called you kid?”

You feel your face sear further. So much so you can even detect each and every drop of sweat beading at your hairline. You’d forgotten it was freezing outside, instead trying to find a way to subtly cool yourself.

“You d-didn’t even call me dumb. I’m not.” you say, stuttering over yourself like a true idiot as you try and gain some semblance of composure through this agonising conversation.

He closes the already small distance between you, placing his hand on the small of your back and pulling you towards him. Your eyes flutter closed under his as he examines you. His head tilting and turning, forcing himself in your line of view.

“I am learning more about you. Should we fuck about it, sweetheart?”

“What are you—”

“Do I remind you of your old man, hah? I bet that’s it… was daddy never proud of you?” he chuckles darkly, carding his fingers through your hair as he stares down at you. “S’that why you like me, darlin?”

“Shut up.” you respond, voice meek and pathetic as you wrestle with your will and want. His fingers lace through your hair, delicately holding the crown of your head before you find yourself being pulled closer still. His lips ghost yours, and he’s a tease. He’s such a fucking tease.

“Got a thing for older guys who talk to you like shit… I see it. Get too much respect at your little doctor job all day. Do you like being talked down to, hm? No wonder you like a thug like me.”

“You don’t know what you’re— You d-don’t even know.”

“Yeah? I don’t?” he asks, his tone melodious and teasing. His head tilts back, the feel of his lips intensely teasing yours soon broken as he does. But you look up to him, eyes full of anguish and sorrow like a kicked puppy who doesn’t know what it wants. You hate him and the reason is clear.

You don’t hate him at all.

You just hate that he’s right.

“I think I’m right. I think you’ve got daddy issues, and you like it when I call you kid.” you turn away as he speaks. But almost as quickly as you do, he’s forcing you to look at him again. His ruby eye flaring, an expression all of its own. A warning, a look of command. A look of lust. “Am I right, baby? Is your little cunt soaked ‘cause I call you kid?”

“… I have to go.” you say, quietly.

“Sure.” he smirks.

A sense of déjà vu overwhelms you as you recognise in his smile that you’ve done this dance before. You can’t move and you can’t speak. There is no desire in you to leave him now and return to your home, your bed, like you should.

All you can do is stare. Your eyes fixated on the man who has just read you like a book. His amused expression doesn’t falter. He’s patient, surprisingly. You wouldn’t have painted him as a man with patience. But looking at him now, you know he’d be willing to wait all night if he had to. He’d wait for the sun to rise just to prove a point.

But he doesn’t need to.

You lunge forward, your hand cupping his face as you break the boiling tension between you and seal your acceptance with a scalding kiss.

He won.

He told you before, he doesn’t lose.

Your lips suctioning and pecking at his would make you embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. He welcomes it, too, meeting yours with just as much urgency. He wraps his arms around your back as you slip your tongue between his lips, allowing them to tangle and swirl in a passionate encounter.

He chuckles into it as you curse. Curse him, curse his name. You can’t believe he’s reduced you to this, again. Your heart heaves in your chest, and you break away just to instruct him.

“Open the fucking back door.”

He laughs again, keeping hold of you as he guides you in a way he can carry on kissing you and still do as he’s told. He ducks in first, pulling you in with him right after. You grind your hips against his heavy bulge as he closes the door after you. He looks up to admire you, to adore you.

“You smeared your makeup like a fucking idiot so I wouldn’t fuck you,” he laughs. “And look at you, humping my cock like a desperate little pet.”

“Shiiiit, I forgot I’m a mess.” you sigh, though you don’t really care. You wrap your arms around his neck, keening as his heavy palms grip your thighs press you flush against his body. “This is the last time. I m-mean it.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” he says, smugly.

You dismiss it, too enamoured by the feeling of his bulge alone as you continue to grind down hard and purposefully onto him. He’s relaxed, allowing you to take the lead and go at your own pace.

It’s embarrassing, really, you’re not as experienced as he seems to be. He’s older. And you hate to admit it, wiser. When it comes to encounters such as this, anyway. You’re smart and well read, sure, but casual hook ups are foreign to you.

You’ll keep that to yourself for as long as you can, you can’t think of anything worse than giving Sukuna that little tidbit of information about you. That he is only the third guy you’ve fucked.

He hit the nail on the head back at the club, but you can’t let him know that.

“Let me feel.” he mutters. His hand holds your hip to keep you in place. Another snakes down into your sleep shorts, his mouth falls open with an amused chuckle as he touches you. “Still full’a me, baby. Bet I’ll slide right in.”

His fingers play with your pussy without any real goal. And still, it makes you delirious. He smears the evidence of your previous tryst around your folds, and he watches with conviction as his fingers circle your clit.

He withdraws them, briefly, to move your shorts into the crease of your thigh. You watch him, and he doesn’t take his eye off you, either. Your lower lip droops as you admire him. Truthfully, you’ve never been in the presence of someone so domineering as him. He is the true definition of a red-blooded male.

Sukuna is huge. In the literal sense, he is unnaturally tall. His build is enormous, his hand is larger than your face. But his aura alone is enough to fill an entire room with an ambience that he sees fit. He could instil fear into the minds of men just because he wills it.

Unfortunately for you, you are not immune to his will.

“You’re so pent up darlin’, you must work hard. Y’need to relax… no wonder you can’t keep your hands off me.” he says. It could be read as demeaning. You think it should be. And yet, you don’t detect any malice from him. He makes a show of spitting on his fingers, keeping eye contact with you as the ‘ptuh’ sound leaves his lips. It makes you shudder.

Though when he touches you with such purpose, so lewdly, a whine you never knew you could make leaves your lungs. He looks up at you like you hung every star in the sky as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. The ‘shlick’ suctioning sounds of your already tainted walls couldn’t possibly be any louder.

He sees how embarrassed you are, but he doesn’t care. Your nose crinkles and your eyes close softly. He curls his fingers and his palm flattens against your clit. And you cry out for him, lurching forward as you wrap your arms around his head rather than his neck. He’s surprised to see your hips rock against his touches, riding his fingers like it’s the only contact you’ve ever known.

His free hand reaches up to tug down your vest. His tongue is flat and wide as he sticks it out to lick your bare tits. He isn’t rough, he isn’t aggressive, he isn’t rushing. He sensually swirls his tongue over your nipples, breathing heavily on occasion before he kisses them. You whimper when he sporadically skims his teeth across them. There’s no bite. No effort. He just wants to hear you cry for him like that. It’s like his teeth are barely there, just enough that you know they are.

“Do you touch yourself?” he mumbles against your skin. You can’t bear to look at him after hearing that. You pretend you didn’t, moaning louder as a diversion. It’s fruitless, and apparently you aren’t a good actress. He yanks your hair and forces you to look at him. His fingers stop, and your body writhes from the loss. “Don’t do that again. Answer me.”

“S-Sukuna…” you fuss. The feeling of your building pleasure being torn away from you is making you stupid. It’s pathetic. And yet, in spite of how humiliating it is, you’re still rolling your hips in a bid to get the feeling back. His expression falters to one you can’t read. You think it’s annoyance, but it’s so detached and expressionless. You yelp as he withdraws his fingers completely, with no time to feel the loss when he grabs your face with his slick-coated hand.

“I want to know if you make your pretty pussy cum after a hard day at work.” he says calmly, a low rumble in his chest as the words roll plainly from his tongue. Your eye contact falters as you notice him pulling at his sweatpants in search of his aching length. “And I want you to show me how you touch her. So go on, answer my question.”

“I… I—” you stumble. You watch him intensely as he frees his throbbing cock. He wraps his fist around himself and lazily strokes. He still glares at your features. While you’re utterly captivated by his cock.

It looks so angry. Too pretty and perfect to be real, you think. But somehow, it is. You think he’d be better suited as a porn star than a criminal with an asset like that. He spends an extra second squeezing his length just below the tip when he strokes himself, it’s like he’s ringing all of the pre out that he can. It dribbles out of his slit, coating his tip the more he summons. It’s beguiling.

You suppose you hadn’t really had a chance to admire him back at the club. It was so heated and hasty. Now, it’s purposeful. You look at his face again when you realise this is what he wants. He wanted you to look at how he touches himself and how gorgeous his cock is. He wants you to see how big he is and how much he aches and throbs when he needs to be buried in a sweet little cunt.

He wants the memory of this to stain your mind.

“I d-don’t.” you confess. “Not much… I’m always tired. Busy.”

“Mhmm… I can tell.” he nods, his voice is somewhat sympathetic. “Come here, princess. Sit on it.”

His hand grips into your hip while he lines himself up with your entrance. You don’t fight him, you don’t hesitate. You let him push you down, you eagerly suck him in. Your eyes roll back as you feel him swell through your walls. Even after taking him earlier, you’d forgotten how monstrous he feels inside. And this time, somehow, he feels bigger.

“Fu-uck,” you gasp as his tip immediately nudges at your sweet spot. You hold his shoulders and hope he’ll assist you. The thought of disappointing him makes you anxious. The idea of him knowing how inexperienced you really are makes you sick.

He throws his head back as your hole swallows him greedily. He looks at you through a heavy-lidded stare, and relief fills you as his hands grab the fat of your ass. You moan pathetically as he spreads them. But his ultimate goal is to bounce you on his cock. You feel weightless in his hands as he helps you. Each steep drop down onto his length makes your throat tight.

He's there.

You feel him there.

“Play with yourself, go on. Rub her f’me.” he says lethargically.

And your face feels like fire. The foreplay was gasoline and his command is a match. And yet, out of fear of him withholding pleasure from you again, you comply. Your hand slithers between your thighs and you do all you can to pretend you’re elsewhere.

You try and pretend you’re in your room, in your bed. What usually gets you going is a mildly heated scene from a movie or TV show. The sexual tension of an almost kiss makes your face flush, though a lot less than it is now. And you think it’s unbearable to witness sexual tension and not see any resolve, so you scamper to find a video online to suit your needs. Something quick and short as you reach into your nightstand to find your favourite toy.

The thought of being caught by your brother makes you sick so you have to be fast with it. The website you ordered it from assured the toy would be whisper quiet. And you can only hope it’s true. You don’t touch yourself, not without aid. And even then, it’s sparse. You haven’t rubbed your clit with your own fingers in years.

Years of being riled up and having a useless boyfriend who didn’t know what he was doing lead you to finishing yourself off each and every time. And you knew, the moment you got a job and your own income, you’d buy yourself a vibrator.

It’s hard to pretend Sukuna isn’t here, though. It’s hard to pretend you’re in your room with Netflix playing quietly enough in the background it can still cover the sound of soft core moaning from your phone while you vibrate yourself to completion.

Because his cock fills your each and every thought. Every sense you possess is dominated by him. The feel of him stretching you out beyond your limit and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. The sound of the sticky tacking of his length as he slams you up and down on his pulsing member.

Your vision alternates between his gorgeous gaze and the point where your bodies connect again and again. Your pussy gushes slick and the evidence of your prior combined coupling stains your inner thighs and his crotch.

The scent of your sex fills the car and the heat of your sweaty bodies exacerbates it. Your skin is damp, as is his. And it’s overwhelming. He groans into a chuckle as you moan louder and louder for him. If anyone happens to be awake at this ungodly hour, they’ll no doubt hear you. If anyone looks out of the window, they’ll see how the car rocks back and forth. It turns you on further. The tang of sweat and arousal filling the car. It makes you lightheaded.

“I can— fuck— c-can taste you, daddy…” you whine. He urges you to fall forward so he can kiss you. It forces you to take over, moving your hips on your own as you try and maintain your building pleasure. “You’re too big… can feel you in my throat, Sukuna… tastes so good.”

“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” he smirks, kissing you again. “You’re fuckin’ filthy. Not the good girl you pretend to be, hah?”

You nod, agreeing. He’s right, after all. You’re talking in a way you didn’t know you had in you. He takes over again, holding your rear so he can take full control of your body. He guides you repeatedly until your eyes cross from the pleasure. Your walls tighten, and your throat feels hoarse as you cry out for him.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, kid. Don’t be shy. Cum for daddy.” he encourages you.

You cry, at that. Falling forwards to envelop him in your arms as you come undone. He coos, sweetly, kissing your cheeks and licking away your tears. The feeling isn’t lost on you, the feeling of disgust. You’ve never felt happiness or value like you did just now. Realising how right he was about your issues and using them to subdue you.

Your pussy gushes and he moans further, chest roaring as he finally lets his sight drop to see what a pretty mess you’ve made of yourself.

Made of him.

Made for him.

He pushes his thumb into your clit and rubs quickly, further extending your pleasure through it all. You could just about cum again when you feel him shoot another load into you, his warmth filling your womb for the second time today. It makes you feel special. It makes you feel loved.

The very idea of it has you pushing yourself away from him desperately. But he holds you close. His moans are boisterous and uncaring. It’s loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood, you think. And at the very least, you’re sure Megumi will hear if he doesn’t have his headphones on.

His arms wrap tightly around your waist to keep you in place, his feet planted firmly on the floor of the car as he fucks himself into you. He’s sure to empty every last drop into your cunt, his balls slap against your ass as he ploughs into you furiously.

And when he stops, you freeze. You feel cold. You feel filthy.

He doesn’t discard you or try to kick you out. The opposite, really. He’s still holding you close, lightly peppering your chilled skin with kisses. Eventually stopping to rest his head on your chest. He feels you try to move away, but he only holds you tighter.

So you stop trying to leave. And instead, you run your fingers through his hair. He hums contently, at that. And you feel your heart pound harder, a little smile works its way onto your face.

Maybe he’s not so bad.

That thought alone makes you stop. He looks up at you, his stare soft and gentle as he wonders what made you halt your actions so abruptly. Before he can ask what’s wrong, you move to leave.

“I have to go, I really have to go now.” you say bluntly. He huffs, watching as you scramble to put your clothes back in place, clambering off him in a hurry. He doesn’t say anything in response. He watches as you scramble to open the door. Tears of panic begin to fall as you struggle to open it, you frantically pull and push as you try to get away. He leans over, and with little effort, he opens the door for you.

“Goodbye.” he says, simply.

“G-Goodbye.” you respond, ducking out and briskly walking to your front door.

You take a deep breath when you get there, preparing for the possibility that Megumi is about to greet you and bite your head off. Sukuna doesn’t move. He stays in the back seat and watches you with a sombre expression. With no inclination of what happened to change your mood, he can only assume he stepped out of line.

He doesn’t want to leave just yet. At least not until he knows you’re safely inside.

As you grab the handle of the door and push, your heart sinks.

“No, no, no… d-don’t do this to me now.” you sob, hysterically fiddling and pushing the door. You stupidly think that you just need to try harder and it will open. But no such thing comes to pass. You’ve locked yourself out.

Sukuna sits upright when he realises, watching as you slowly turn to look at him. His hand folds, gesturing for you to come closer. And with no other option, you do. Your phone is inside as well as your car keys. You can’t text Megumi to tell him what you’ve done. And even if you could, he’d only come outside to see that you’ve let him down. Again.

“Silly girl.” he says, looking at you with a weak smile when you finally approach. You duck down to look at him, not willing to get inside with him. “Do you want to come to my place? I’ll bring you back in the morning.” he suggests.

“I’m not fucking—”

“You can stay in a different room.” he answers your obvious assumption with a reasonable response. And still…

“N-No. I don’t want to go to your house.”

“Then I guess we’re sleeping in the car. Come on.” he sighs. He waits until you get in, begrudgingly, and then gets out himself. You watch him as he circles to the trunk of his car, looking ahead at your home as you wait for him to return. And he does, with a large, fur blanket.

“Why do you have this?” you wonder.

“I don’t remember. You better not be complaining, sweetheart. You’re lucky I didn’t fuck off right after I came like I usually do. Especially after that little performance.”

“Performance?!” you yell. You position yourself as far away from him as you can in the confined space, sitting as closely to the door as you can. “You just don’t get it! At all.”

“You’ve made that clear, princess. Don’t worry. I’ll steer clear when you get back inside tomorrow. I’m too old to be playing stupid games with little girls who don’t know what they want.”

You huff, covering your legs with the blanket before folding your arms.

“I told you it was a mistake.” you correct him. “I told you I didn’t want to see you or do that again.”

“Shut up.” he shakes his head. “Just go to sleep and we’ll never have to see each other again. Because that’s what you want, yes?”

You pause before speaking. Images of his delicate expression in your arms haunt you. You’d overreacted because of your own cowardice. Because of a promise you evidently had no intention of keeping. It wasn’t a performance. It was just… fear.

“Yes.” you tell him. Your response is bold and scathing.

He doesn’t react, he merely shrugs, adjusting the blanket over his own legs, too. His arms cross over his chest, and his head rests against the window. You can’t see beyond his eye covering, but you assume his visible eye is closed.

You do the same, hoping you fall asleep sooner rather than later.

You’re wrong, though.

His eye is open wide, looking upwards to the light polluted sky. There are a few stars visible, three. He stares at them, thinking about the events of the evening. He hadn’t expected to end up fucking once tonight let alone twice. But when you walked into his club and tried to give him a piece of your mind, he knew.

He knew he’d have to have you.

And he hadn’t expected to be so lucky so have you again, like this. But he can’t put his finger on why things went so sour. It could be one thing or a number of things. He has ideas. He thinks your less complicated than you seem to think you are. You’re keeping him at arm’s length, and that, he understands.

He’s a stranger, but he doesn’t have to be.

He doesn’t want to be.

But what can he do?

He’ll just stare at the stars until he drifts off to sleep.

Maybe things will be different in the morning.

—

chapter one | m.list (working on it) | chapter three

#🦋 — luxe writes #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu #jjk x fem!reader #tw blood #tw daddy kink #tw size difference #tw age gap #tw degradation #tw dacryphilia

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dumbseee · 10 months

Text

united in grief.

f1 au/fic: in which, you’re jules bianchi’s little sister. you’re the same age as charles and grew up with him, when jules passed away your world completely fell apart, and you left monaco for paris. eight years after jules’s death you finally decide to comeback to monaco to visit your old friend.

charles leclerc x bianchi!reader.

fc: madison beer.

warnings: mention of jules bianchi, grief, angst, fluff.

note: happy eighth heavenly birthday, jules, we will always love and remember you, champion 🤍

y/n just posted a story!

caption: missed you monaco 🤍

you really thought about going back for a while, you missed you life in monaco so much. all your friends were here, your family was here, even after jules’s death they stayed, but you couldn’t. every step you took in the luxurious city reminded you of your brother. his presence was everywhere. you were seventeen when you lost jules, he was your whole world, you always wished you were the one in that car. you left monaco for paris because you needed a fresh start in a new city where you could walk without feeling the people’s eyes on you. but a small part of your heart wondered if leaving monaco meant that you were abandoning jules too. he was buried there after all, his soul was now forever in monaco and you were leaving to run away from him.

but your parents reassured you, and told you to fly with your own wings, to find your way, that no matter what jules would be proud of you, and would follow you because he was now your guardian angel. that reassured you a lot since your worst fear was to disappoint him. but your parents were right, jules was an angel when he was still here, and he’s still one up there. so whenever you felt bad, defeated, sad, you knew jules was around you, that gave you the strength to stand up and stay strong. you had to, for your brother. to make him proud.

that’s why you decided to attend today’s race. the monaco grand prix, your brother’s home race. he loved that circuit so much because he knew his friends and family were watching him and cheering for him. you came back without telling anyone, but of course your mother had to tell pascale, so the elderly woman immediately called you to invite you to have lunch with her and lorenzo, her oldest son. you couldn’t say no, because you missed the leclerc, but also because you knew how much you leaving hurt them. you left without saying goodbye, it was too hard for you, so once jules’s funeral was over, you packed your bag and left.

pascale and lorenzo welcomed you with open arms and big smiles, the mother apologised for charles and arthur’s absence but they were busy. charles… you were glad he wasn’t here because you didn’t know how you’d be able to look him in the eye. "you should go to the grand prix with us." lorenzo had told you, with his usual warm smile. at first you refused, but after thinking it over you realised that you owned it to charles, you left him behind when he was also mourning. of course it was harder for you since he was your brother, but jules was everything to charles. his second older brother, he was also lorenzo’s best friend. you hated yourself for being such a selfish coward. guilt was eating you alive and lorenzo noticed it. "don’t be too hard on yourself y/n, jules isn’t going to be happy." he smiled and you had to fight back your tears.

so you came with the leclerc to charles’ home race, you knew that your presence would be the only talk in town and on the internet. "oh my god, y/n!" someone yelled from behind you and you smiled when you saw ‘little arthur’ like you called him back then. he ran to you and made you spin in his arms. you laughed and brushed his hair when he finally put you down. "look at you! where is my little boy?" you asked, still laughing. he flexed his muscles and flashed you a cocky smile before pascale came to hit him in the head. "where is charles?" she asked. "getting ready in the garage, he’s really nervous, i think you should go say hi." he told you. you immediately took a step back, you were nervous as hell too, but for different reasons than charles. what if he didn’t want to see you? what if seeing you ruin his race? what if-… "he still talks about you y/n, he misses you so much you have no idea." pascale chimes in, patting your shoulder.

you were in front of charles’ driver room, you knew that he was just behind it. you could hear voices inside which had to be charles and his teammate. you closed you eyes and knocked three times before waiting. a tall and tan man opened the door for you, he smiled at you and you recognised him as carlos sainz. "isa is waiting for me, see you on track charles." he told charles. "it’s nice seeing you here, y/n." you smiled and watched him go. you took a deep breath before walking into the room. your hands were sweaty and you didn’t know where to look. "y/n?" you haven’t heard his voice in nearly a decade, so him calling your name startled you. "h-…" you couldn’t even finish that charles had closed the gap between you, pulling you in his arms. his face was buried in your neck and his arms were hugging you tightly. you were completely frozen, you didn’t expect him to be that affectionate after what you did to him. "charles, i’m so sorry for leaving." tears were now rolling down your cheeks. he broke the hug and immediately wiped your tears.

"sorry for what?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. his hands rested on your shoulders, his touch soothing you. "i’m not mad at you for leaving, y/n. i just wished i was here with you to help you through the grieving process." he smiled and you looked at the ground. he was too good to you, you didn’t deserve it. "you lost jules too, i acted like i was the only one grieving, i didn’t realise the impact my brother had on people’s lives." charles gently kissed your forehead and stroked your cheek. "let’s talk about that later, let me enjoy your presence, you don’t know how much i missed you." he hugged you once again, and this time you wrapped your arms around him, savouring the moment. "my lucky charm is back in town." you couldn’t refrain your laugh at his cheesy comment.

"and charles leclerc wins the monaco grand prix for the first time in his career!" the whole stadium cheered for the monegasque meanwhile you couldn’t stop crying. he won. he won in monaco. it was his goal and he did it. pascale hugged you while cheering for her son, lorenzo and arthur ran to their brother. but you stayed in your seat, looking at him jumping everywhere and celebrating with his brothers and carlos. then, when he turned around to face your direction he did something that sent shivers all over your body. he pointed at you, then at his heart, and then at the sky. this was jules’s celebration every time he’d win something and you were there to support him. he honoured jules even when he finally fulfilled his dream. "jules, you are so loved." you muttered to yourself, looking up at the bright sky.

liked by charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, philippe_bianchi17 and 2 682 789 others.

y/n: coming back in monaco was hard, but i wanted to be here for charlie, i was scared at first because i knew that i handled my brother’s death terribly but in eight years i forgot how kind you were. i finally understood why jules loved you so much. congratulations on winning your first grand prix in monaco! i’m so proud of the man you became charles, i know that my brother is proud of you and will always look after you. je t’aime charlie ♥️

charles_leclerc: this one was for you, and of course jules, i’m so happy to have you back, je t’aime aussi ♥️

fan1: i can’t stop crying wtf

fan2: jules’ death affected everyone, even the people who never even met him, like me, he was such an angel

fan3: your brother is proud of you y/n! don’t be too hard on yourself!

fan4: we love you!

fan5: so happy to see you healthy!

fan6: man, this family suffered too much, i hope they’re happy now

fan7: charles and y/n relationship is so cute omg

fan8: the way he dedicated his win to the bianchi siblings 🥺

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thefallennightmare · 1 year

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Arranged-Mob!Bucky Barnes AU

*=smut

Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes.

He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

FINISHED

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan

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leechanpremacy · 11 months

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People You Know

After the death of his wife, he starts a whole new life in a whole new city with his three year old twins only to meet someone from his past. What a way to start something new, right?

pairings: psychiatrist!jeonghan, parent!jeonghan x doctor!reader petowner!reader

tags: fluff, crack, slow burn, exes to lovers, romance, angst (if you think into it really deeply), swearing, inaccurate medical jargons + medications

word count: 2k

tag list: @sadgirlroo @loyard176 @fragmentof-indifference

notes: i’ve been dreading to write jeonghan as a parent of twins, now having the motivation and inspiration to write the plot, IM ON CLOUD NINE!!! lmao i’m also planning on posting this as an au on twitter if time, and motivation persists as my alter ego’s such a lazy ass bitch that takes at least half a month to find motivation to do updates on on-going twitter series’ THIS might also be turned in to a series (fuck, my mingyu series long forgotten 💀)

two | masterlist | four

three.

Sighing for the last time as you close your eyes as you rubbed your temples, “No, no. It’s okay. It’s your first time encountering the fluctuation. Just take note of what I said.” You softly explained to the resident doctor, hanging his head low.

After a few more apologies from the resident doctor, you went to the hospital cafeteria to buy coffee.

“No, just bring her back home tomorrow. I won't return, I'll be on stand-by for now.” Reaching out your card to pay for your food as you continued to talk with Dino on the phone.

Shaking your head as you dropped the call, you went back to your room to work on some cases that you were handling.

"Sure, I can take a quick visit there. Yeah, yeah. So I can also see if I'd want a thing or two in my room. Hmm. Would it be possible to tag my children along? Alright, thank you so much." Pressing the end button, Jeonghan quickly made his way back to their couch. Calling his twins that were focused on watching television, "Dada's going out, who wants to come?"

Whipping their heads in unison, both breaks in to a smile and raised their hands as they both yelled "Me!"

"Well, yeah. That's pretty much it. You can have a quick call with my department through the nurses' station since the telephone here has been disconnected for a while now." With a few more reminders, Jeonghan bid the staff goodbye before wandering his eyes around his new office.

It was still bare, but it was left clean. It was probably taken good care of the cleaning department.

"Is this your room, dada?" Jeonghan nodded, brushing his daughter's cheeks out of fondness. "Dada room, big!" Giving out big hand gestures as his son's eyes sparkle.

"Is it?" He asks, earning high-pitched yes from them.

He was watching his children with a fond gaze when the speaker blasted the emergency sound. Acting out of impulse, he quickly stood up, almost startling his twins as he reached for his chest pockets - only to find out that he wasn't in his coat and that he is now a psychiatrist, not an intern. Laughing at his actions, he looks down at his twins that froze as they looked at him with wide eyes, "Sorry angels," He coos, crouching down to hug his twins, giving them both quick and light kisses on the cheek.

"The patient is currently having an episode!" The nurse quickly calls. You paid no mind to her direction as you pulled out your pen to see the dilation of the patient. "What was the last dose given to him?" Abruptly pocketing the pen as you reached for the patient's chart to see what the medication was. But you heard no one answer you the moment you saw what was written in the chart.

"Give him Ketoconazole," Swiftly making your way towards the designated stool for your patient to grab a medication safe for both seizures on intoxication and withdrawal reactions on renal transplantations and Ketoconazole.

The nurse practically flew as she came back with the medication as she reached for you the vial. You tilted it carefully, extracting the right dosage before pushing the solution out of the syringe.

You felt your shoulders relax as you watched the patient slowly recover from the seizure. Taking in a deep breath as you held your forehead, "Did the patient gain consciousness earlier?" You asked voice strained from the tension you didn't realize earlier.

"Yes, Doc." You could notice the quiver in her voice, but you were too stressed to open your eyes and lift your head. "How about visitors? Did he have any?" You didn't hear her answer, causing you to let out a breath.

Lips pursed, you looked at the nurse that looked at you nervously. "I... I wasn't on duty earlier..."

You tried to control your voice, not wanting to take it out on the poor girl. "Who was it?" The nurse answered in a low voice, "It was Nurse Anna..."

You couldn't help but laugh emptily. "Nobody was available to guide her?" Your brows furrowed as the corners of your lips curved downward. "No wonder nobody informed me about the patient gaining consciousness earlier."

The silence stretched for a few more minutes before regaining your composure, "You can go," you called he nurse before she could reach the door, "And can you please inform the guardian about what happened? I'll monitor him for a while. I'll wait for them here."

After checking his watch for the nth time, "Let's go home?" Thinking the emergency has dissipated already.

Holding their hands with both of his hands, they walked along the hospital corridor. From there, he saw a familiar figure trying to talk with a hysterical person. He could visibly see the frustration on the Doctor's face but kept a straight face as she continuously opened her mouth.

For one, he could be an ignorant person and lead his children the other way, avoiding such conflict that his children can witness. Two, he could retreat back to his bare office and tell his children to behave as if he'll do something real quick - to which he did the latter.

He told his twins to behave while he was gone, or else they won't get desserts for dinner.

When he reached them, the guardian was still arguing, "Why would you let some airheaded nurse watch my husband?! I pay this hospital fortunes so he could recover! Not the other way around!"

For the nth time, you sighed deeply, lips pursed tightly as you fight the urge to roll your eyes at the guardian. "We apologize for the incident Mrs. Nam. It is an honest mistake on our part. We will be held accountable for the incident.-"

"No! Being held accountable won't make my husband recover from almost passing?! This is malpractice! I will sue this hospital!"

Eyes enlarging at the statement, "Mrs. Nam-"

"Ma'am, you should watch your words." A voice interfered causing both you and Mrs. Nam to look at the owner of the voice. "Jeonghan," You called, he briefly looked at you, nodding his head whilst scrunching his nose in acknowledgment.

"If you sue the hospital Ma'am, Doctor Y/L will still be held accountable and you will receive some sort of compensation. However, if you'll lose, not only will you pay for her legal bills, but your husband could possibly be forced to move to another hospital." You wanted to interject with his claim but as soon as you saw Mrs. Nam halt from her position, you kept your mouth shut and watched them talk.

"Sorry to intrude, but I am from Wen's Law Firm." Handing a business card to Mrs. Nam. "I may not be a lawyer or Attorney but I still know the law, Ma'am." He says, shocking you.

'Didn't he dreamt of being a lawyer..?' You thought, confusion painting your face.

With a few more convincing words, Mrs. Nam finally calmed down and conceded the argument. Hanging your head low as your buck hunched from tiredness, "Thank you for that Jeonghan," Lifting your head as your brows slanted, "But you didn't have to scare her like that."

He chuckles, "I saved you from that and all I get is nagging?" You couldn't help but shake your head with a small smile, "I meant, the suing thing. You didn't have to brag and lie about that. Plus, you don't work on that Firm anymore, you could get sued for breach of contract or something?"

"No, I won't." Keeping his smile, "I worked with Jun's Law Firm, he wouldn't mind it if I used the name for you." You felt your breath hitched as you fluttered your eyes on his words. Too surprised at the tender look he gave you.

Disregarding the warm feeling that was creeping out your face, "What're you doing here by the way? I thought you'll start in October?" You could see the surprise on his face, making you giggle. It reminded you of how he was always shocked hearing sweet words leave your lips.

"I checked my office. Would you like to see it? The twins are there," You wanted to decline, but the way his eyes largen as they began to sparkle, you didn't have the heart to say no to him.

"Say hi to your Aunt Y/N," Warm greetings followed by cute smiles were flashed in front of you. "Hi," You crouched to their level, patting both their heads which caused them to giggle at you.

"So how's the room so far?" You ask, before removing your gaze on his twins to look at him. You were expecting him to answer immediately but he wore this dazed look as he watched you with his children. It didn't make you uncomfortable, but it made you grimace at the thoughts that flashed through your head.

You wondered, 'Did he remember us?' Displeased at your own thought, you brushed your coat, as you stood up, breaking eye contact with him.

"What was that again?" You repeated your question, "Oh, I guess there's nothing more to add. I got the essentials already. Probably the telephone connection, but aside from that, I'm fine with what they offered now."

You now started to wander around, with the twins sitting on the desk as their eyes followed you around. You tried your best to look interested in every object in his office just to avoid his eyes.

You're scared to see memories flashing back in your mind.

"How 'bout a snack corner? So your twins could be entertained when you bring them here." You could hear a creak but were too afraid to look. "I don't really plan on frequently bringing them to work. I don't want them to see hysterical episodes when I work with patients." He languidly says. You could imagine him leaning on a wooden desk or something with his arms crossed around his chest. You could also feel his gaze on you.

"Makes sense." Clicking your tongue, "Dada what is hystercal.. Episode?" One of the twins asks making your ears perk up, awaiting his answer. "It's cartoon! Dada, Yejun, right?!" You couldn't help but grin at the twins' understanding, you were even tempted to peek at their reaction, imaging their eyes bulging, similar to how Jeonghan does when he tries to prove his argument.

"No, angel. It's not cartoons." He says, "It's something only big boys and girls understand." He coos, earning tiny groans from the two. "But Dada! Me, Yejun! Already four!" You were now watching them, Yuna flashing five fingers to Jeonghan, trying to prove a point.

Softly smiling, "Angel, that is a five. And you two are still three." He fondly says, brushing his daughter's hair, trying to soothe her grumpiness.

"But, Uncle Cheol said Yejun, Yuna is big already!" A pout was evident on Yejun's face, making Jeonghan grin before pinching his cheeks lightly.

"You have a lovely family Jeonghan," You unconsciously say, causing Jeonghan to glance at you.

The smile on his face grew even more as his eyes settle on the twins, "They're the sweetest."

"Yeah, I'm sure both you and your wife raised them well."

"You fucking didn't tell me Jeonghan's widowed!" You whispered-yelled at Dino through the phone. You could hear faint chuckles, most probably coming from Hoshi. Oh God, you could already imagine his annoying ass on your face, saying 'I told you you'll come around!'

"Well, we thought you didn't want to know! You were adamant back then that you didn't want to hear anything from him! Heck, even if he was still breathing, you didn't want to know!"

Pursing your lips for the nth time, "Are you guys still not finished camping?" The change in your tone probably ticked the guys the wrong way as you heard shuffling from the other line. "We'll be there in an hour." Ending the call as you entered Doctor's cave.

You were now getting lost in your thoughts, piling questions on your mind that wants to be answered. You didn't want to trouble anyone with the thoughts popping into your head, but the urge to call any of Jeonghan's or any of your friends related to Jeonghan aside from the three idiots was growing.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen au #jeonghan #jeonghan dad #jeonghan x fem #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan drabble #jeonghan au #jeonghan parent #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x oc #Spotify

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yoonbroom · 8 months

Text

BTS FIC RECS

a list of BTS fics I really enjoyed! pls go and show these amazing authors some love <3 if there wasn't a summary I just included a little blurb from the fics! and anything with * are my own thoughts. now onto the recs ↓

KIM SEOKJIN

TURN BACK TIME - @raplinesmoon

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut

After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

WITH YOU - @yoonpobs

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, ceo, marriage, divorce, parent

marrying your childhood best friend was not the love story that most painted it to be. you knew that better than anyone else.

UNTITLED - @eoieopda

drabble, fluff, est relationship, parent

"I loved the dad joon and dad yoongs drabble 🥹 it's freaking cuteeee omg jade 😭😭 *whisper* can you do dad-to-be or dad seokjin too please...? I'm on a seokjin missing hour 🥹 thank you ❤️❤️"

LONG TERM COUPLE - @taetaespeaches

series, fluff, angst, idol au, strangers to lovers

long term couple masterlist *the whole long term couple series is honestly one of my faves😭*

MIN YOONGI

LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches

series, fluff, angst, smut, idol au, strangers to lovers

long term couple masterlist

NO MORE - @gyukult

series (two-shot), angst, smut, fluff, unrequited love, college, secret relationship

yoongi doesn’t like your consistent pining, and one day, after finally coming to terms that he will never reciprocate any feelings back, you give up. yet, for some reason, yoongi is the one who can’t come to terms with the consequences of when he says ‘no more.’

VOWS AKA 10 WAYS TO WIN YOUR HUSBAND'S HEART - @hamsterclaw

series, fluff, angst, smut, arranged marriage, est relationship

You’ve been in your arranged marriage with Yoongi for five years, and he’s never once retaliated for anything you’ve done to him. One day you realise you’ve lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

CARE FOR YOU - @archivedkookie

oneshot, fluff, est relationship, marriage, doctor au

Yoongi will always care for you, no matter what.

BABY, YOU CAN DRIVE MY CAR PT.2- @jungshookz

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, mechanic au

welcome to min mechanics - what can i do for you today, doll?

THE TROPHY WIFE - @taeyohonic

oneshot, fluff, angst, est relationship, idol au

the proposal doesn’t go as planned

BACK-BURNER - @/yoonpobs

series, angst, fluff, smut, sisters best friend, friends to lovers

sometimes you felt like you were the back-burner of a two-decade-long friendship. how could you ever compete?

VEGAS BABY - @chimivx

series, fluff, angst, smut, idol au, parent au

A peek into the life of an Idol and his soulmate tackling the obstacles that come with having a surprise in the whirlwind of a world they live in. { This link takes you to the full collection of works. }

JUNG HOSEOK

LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches

series, fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, idol au

long term couple masterlist

ONE NIGHT LIGHT - @bts-reveries

series, fluff, angst, smau, parent

Hoseok has been living his very own version of a perfect life. Unlike some of his best friends, this doesn’t include a happy marriage, adorable kids, or even a stable relationship. All he would ever need was music, dancing, and of course, the parties. Now what happens when he gets a wake up call from reality when the door rings approximately six years after his last one night stand?

AT THE CONCERT - @katnisspeetaprim

oneshot, fluff, est relationship, idol au

Hoseok was quite insistent that you come to this show in particular...

KIM NAMJOON

LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches

series, fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, idol au

long term couple masterlist

UNTITLED - @/eoieopda

drabble, fluff, est relationship, parent au

dad!joon

ALONE ON YOUR BIRTHDAY - @monimonimoon

drabble, angst, est relationship

Namjoon promised he would be there on your birthday, he wouldn't be working, he certainly wouldn't work late. Sometimes, increasingly frequently, he broke his promises.

ME AND YOUR MAMA - @joonberriess

oneshot, smut, fluff, est relationship

you like to remember both what life before the little one was and after with your loving boyfriend namjoon.

PARK JIMIN

ROCK BOTTOM - @jkbabiey

oneshot, angst, fluff, smut, marriage, idol au

When, in a four-year marriage, you get to the point where you question its worth, you know that’s your rock bottom. How many I’m sorry’s will you handle? How many times are too many times?

MASK ON - @herherteartear

series, fluff, angst, smau, single dad au

blind dates are never the move.. unless your best friend is vouching for the person you're going on a date with. it couldn't be that bad, right? wrong. now you're in love with a man who has a big secret. a big secret with chubby cheeks and pig tails.

LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches

series, fluff, angst, smut, friends to lovers, idol au

long term couple masterlist

KIM TAEHYUNG

MINI ME - @bts-reveries

series, fluff, angst, smau, strangers to lovers, parent au, artist au

Unlike his best friends, Taehyung was young, wild, and free. No relationship, no babies, no responsibilities. Well he had his puppy, but that was it. Taehyung watched his nieces and nephews grow up and it was no secret that he too wanted to have one of his own someday. So what will happen when he finally finds someone that matches his personality (and himself) well?

WELCOME TO MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL - @tteokggukk

oneshot, fluff, idol au, strangers to lovers

"He’s been watching your videos for quite some time now, ever since your channel started rising. Art was one of his major interests and he absolutely adored the way you made your videos with the calming, ASMR-like sound of mixing paint and how you skillfully glided the brush across the canvas. On days when he found himself tired and in need of a quick way to relax, he’d subconsciously find himself binge watching videos on your channel— even repeating several videos since you were only starting. He found it fascinating, but also because he found you interesting."

ONE OF THE BOYS - @littlemisskookie

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, high school

All your life you wanted only one thing- for Kim Taehyung to like you. You did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. But who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him?

LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches

series, fluff, angst, smut, (best)friends to lovers, idol au

long term couple masterlist

"I WISH ID NEVER MET YOU" " I HATE YOU" - @v-hope

oneshot, angst, idol au

"pls do 12 and 27 with tae (angst)"

JEON JUNGKOOK

UNTITLED - @onlyswan

oneshot, fluff, angst, est relationship, idol au

in which you make jungkook’s world spin and you tend to… make him a little too dizzy.

ME AND MY HUSBAND - @gashinabts

oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, est relationship, parent au

You don’t want to brag but you have the world’s greatest husband. Jungkook packs your lunch everyday, and makes cute shapes with the fruit. There’s even a little note, ‘ Have a good day at work, Baby! <3’. Smiling to yourself you place the note down, and eat your food with content.

17 GOING ON 27 - @hansolmates

oneshot, fluff, angst, photographer au

one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken.

HOME - @bonny-kookoo

oneshot, fluff, smut, idol au

Singing about love without having experienced it properly before, Jungkook felt a little foolish- as if he didn’t quite have the rights to the words he’d put out there for others to listen to. But Jungkook also loved to learn new things; and loving you was one of them.

LONG TERM COUPLE - @/taetaespeaches

series, fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, idol au

long term couple masterlist

want recs for other groups? check out my navigation → here!

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berriesandjunnie · 2 years

Text

❝ some things never change ❞

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° synopsis no matter what stage in life you’re at, or after all these years, you can count on his hyungs to still treat him the same. ┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° genre & tags fluff / idol!au / parents!au / seventeen as literal parents + seventeen as lee chan’s parent / chan being a whiny ass mf asking his partner to stand up for him / jeonghan-hyung’s aegi<3 ┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° pairing chan x afab!reader ┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° w.c 2.1k words

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° author’s note influenced by a request by an anon (: dino nugu aegi?

˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ now loading… enjoy! ꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

“Jihyo, c’mon, we have got to go get Daddy,” you mused to your young daughter as she got distracted once more by something tedious, watching her toddle alongside you, “like how we come get you from school, hm?”

Jihyo nodded, her tiny hand clasping yours as you both enjoyed the summer sun that was showing today, beaming down on Seoul and South Korea and bringing nothing but smiling faces out on to the streets. You had dressed your daughter in pastel purple floral overalls that Joshua had gifted for her second birthday. To match, you’d styled her dark hair into pigtails adorned with some small purple bows to match her outfit. You were convinced you’d done an amazing job at being her stylist today - that’s what she called you when you dressed her, all thanks to her father.

Falling away from the bustling streets filled with hordes of shoppers, your daughter and yourself turned down a small lane towards the Pledis building, where you let Jihyo’s hand go so she could play a little as you walked - as long as she stayed within a permitted distance, that is. You watched as her pigtails bounced with her skips, giggling gleefully at something that was most likely beyond your comprehension. She stopped, turning to look at you to ensure she’d stayed close enough and as she stared, you couldn’t help but stare back and admire the small child.

She was a splitting image of her father almost, save for your eye colour. Her attitude almost mimicked him too however whenever she was even somewhat sassy, Chan’s eyes would fall on you as the one to blame. You’d laugh every time, convinced she got the best aspects of you. Sometimes you’d tease Chan, commenting that if he wanted a mirror image so badly he’d have to try for another one - and every single time his ears would turn red, his eyes wide as he stumbles on his words and looks away embarrassedly.

“Jihyo, come here please.” You spoke softly towards her, watching as she waddled her way back to your side, grabbing your hand in response as you came to the road that the Pledis building situated itself on. She bounced excitedly as she waited to cross the road, knowing that it was soon time for her to put on her best Daddy’s girl act to get her way. She was way too good at that, you were convinced she must have got it from you too.

The Pledis reception staff and security greeted you warmly, recognising you as you walked in with your daughter closely entailing, still holding your clammy hand in hers. They’d make comments about how much Jihyo was growing every time and she would prove their point with giving them a wave and saying hello. She knew well how to capture everyone’s hearts and you were told by many that she’d be a heartbreaker one day, or perhaps even a celebrity herself.

With a small grumble, Jihyo tiptoed to reach the dance studio’s door handle, moodily refusing any sort of help from you. Eventually her small chubby fingers brushed the handle enough, pulling it down as you helped push the door open.

“There she is!” Chan exclaimed with a small gasp as his daughter came running across the studio to where he was crouched, “wow you look so beautiful today!”

You greeted Chan’s group members, watching as Chan peppered Jihyo’s face in kisses and she giggled in response, patting her daddy’s face in response.

“Yah, that suits her so much,” Joshua commented on the overalls he’d purchased for her as he stood not far from your side, “I should have got the yellow pair too.”

Nodding with a laugh, you agreed with one of the oldest members of the group. Chan sat on the laminate wood floor, sitting Jihyo in his lap as you sat beside him, letting out a tired sigh.

“Has she behaved today?” Chan asked, bouncing his daughter a little with his legs to keep her occupied. You smiled, nodding as you leaned across to give Chan a quick kiss - something that is far more than illegal in Jihyo’s presence. She jutted her low lip out, giving her father absent minded puppy eyes until he planted a kiss on her nose.

“Mhm, like a superstar,” you grinned at Jihyo as she went shy to your words, hiding in Chan’s chest, “it’s just so damn hot out there today… thank God you guys have the air con on.”

There was a groan from Seungcheol where he laid sprawled out on his back in the middle of the studio, panting heavily from their practises.

“Sometimes I feel like it would be cooler outside than in this room,” he sighed, taking his baseball cap off to fluff his sweaty hair and put the cap back on, “and it reeks in here too of sweat.”

As much as you wanted to disagree, the studio did in fact stink from having thirteen men vigarously dancing their asses off for hours on end. You could tell how disgusted most of them were by the feeling of their own sticky skin - you bet that most of them would be diving into the shower when they got home. Amongst texting their partners and eating, most members would also watch Chan with his daughter.

You imagined how weird it must be for them to watch their youngest member be a father - despite all of them being fathers themselves. At this point, you were convinced the older males could read minds as Soonyoung quipped up.

“What happened to our baby?” He teased, emphasising the ‘our’ part of his presumably question. Chan let out a soft grumble from beside you and you laughed, watching as the men nodded in agreement. Confused, Jihyo looked around with a huff that the adults were not including her.

“I’m not a baby anymore,” Chan whined, bouncing Jihyo once more on his legs, “stop that rubbish.”

“What rubbish?” Joshua piped up, looking offended, “you’re our baby, you always will be.”

“I can’t believe you’d deny being our baby,” Jeonghan chimed in, tutting with a sigh, “just because you have a kid now.”

Chan turned to you - his partner of the same age - with pleading eyes that instantly caused you to understand where Jihyo got it from. He pouted, waiting for you to presumably defend him against all of the older males.

“Why are you looking at me Channie?” You laughed, shaking your head when he let out a defeated whine, almost throwing a tantrum if it wasn’t for the daughter on his lap he was supposed to be setting an example for.

“Tell them I’m not a baby anymore!” He begged, smiling down at Jihyo when she smacked at his chest for attention.

“This is exactly why we have the whiniest child out of the Miniteen group,” you scoffed with another shake of your head as he looked at you, surprised, “no matter what you’re their baby - you’re the maknae.”

Chan’s offended look caused a chorus of laughter amongst everyone in the room, paired with some excited yells that you had even sided with the older members in the first place. You wasn’t wrong, Jihyo was certainly the whiniest child in the Miniteen group, the name courtesy of Seokmin and Seungkwan playing on their group name. All of the members having children of course required a group name for their mini selves, right?

Except the group was slightly larger than that of their fathers, while many members only had one child at the moment - a lot like yourself and Chan, Mingyu had twins and Soonyoung had two kids of different ages. Jeonghan’s partner was also pregnant with child number two, therefore making Miniteen a larger group than their fathers. You liked to compare them another boy group in the industry - NCT.

“I can’t believe my own girlfriend betrayed me.” Chan uttered, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. Jihyo giggled from where she sat on his lap, completely unaware of what was even really happening but she didn’t care because her daddy made that funny noise with his tongue again. Chan broke out smiling at this, cracking his upset faucade about the elders teasing him.

“Cheol, how’s Chanyeol doing? He had a fever right?” You hummed, watching the male lift his head from where he was still sprawled on the floor like a rug. He sat up, grabbing his phone from beside him.

“Yeah his temperature had gone down this morning, thankfully. You mothers are terrifying when something even remotely happens with your kids,” Seungcheol sighed, rubbing his head and creating a chorus of mumbles of agreement, “I almost had my head bitten off this morning because I was about to give Chanyeol medicine with the wrong size spoon.”

You snickered, looking down at Jihyo. Chan had never outright called you terrifying when you was protective of your daughter and the conversation made you debate if there has ever been a moment where you did scare him unintentionally.

“Say aaaah,” Chan beamed at his daughter in the dining chair beside him as he fed her a small slice of beef she’d requested off his plate, “good girl.”

You watched with a smile, cherishing the expressions Jihyo pulled as she chewed the beef, clearly not quite expecting its texture as she looked up at her father. Chan raised his brows as he stuffed his face with ssambap, no longer able to talk as he chewed.

“I don’t think she knows how to feel about it.” You mused as you took a drink of the water you’d ordered. Chan nodded, wiping some sauce from Jihyo’s mouth with his thumb as he finished his mouthful.

“Is that okay?” He asked Jihyo with a small chuckle as she pulled another face, yet still nodding in approval before turning back to the rice you’d ordered for her. You couldn’t hide the fact that you thought Jihyo using her baby chopsticks was the most adorable thing ever.

Playdates are the worst idea, you thought as you listened to all the screaming children. Honestly, who’s idea were they? Today you’d opted to dress Jihyo in a green and yellow outfit - to which Soonyoung’s eldest kept saying she looked like a sunflower.

“So much noise,” Vernon yawned from beside you on the bench, “where did Chan go?”

“Jihyo got mad because he forgot her drink, so he’s had to go back home.” You admitted, making Vernon laugh as you watched most of the fathers play with the kids on the grass. As the second youngest member to the group, you couldn’t fault that Vernon was definitely a great father, even if this many kids was daunting for him to be involved with.

“Such a daddy’s girl, sheesh,” he shook his head, watching his son attempt a forward roll, copying Joshua’s daughter, “is he still moody about the whole baby thing?”

“Of course he is,” you snorted, laughing as Vernon once more shook his head with a chuckle, “but I’m not letting it go and Jihyo’s even picked it up. She’ll point at him and say maknae.”

“Such an important piece of vocabulary,” Wonwoo commented on your other side, where he was rocking his daughter’s push chair while she took a well deserved nap in the heat, “I just hope he knows we’re all really proud of him even if we do tease him. He’s such a good father to Jihyo.”

The male’s addition to the conversation created a curl to your lips, smiling as you felt your heart swell at the love the guys had for each other. It really was something else to witness in person. Jihyo paused her playing, staring in the distance and your gaze followed hers to see Chan approaching, her lemon decorated yellow bottle in his hand as she ran to him.

He scooped her up in his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek before handing her the bottle that she automatically began to drink from. That short grudge on him for forgetting her drink was clearly over, you thought as Chan brushed away some strands of hair sticking to her forehead. You could only find yourself agreeing with Wonwoo’s statement.

Some things never change and that meant that Chan would always be Seventeen’s baby as much as he cared to deny it now that he was older - and a father - but that would never change the fact that Seventeen watched him grow into an adult and got to watch as he turned into the amazing father they gloat to being proud of, and as he approached with Jihyo in his arms, you could faintly hear your daughter’s rambling voice as she uttered the word “maknae” to him and his eyes instantly landed on you once more.

#cafeshuaaa #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt #svt fluff #svt fanfic #seventeen dino #svt dino #lee chan #idol!au #parent!au

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 months

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A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.6K]

THE TIMELINE

"Oh, won't you stay, just a little bit longer. Please let me hear, you say that you will, Say you will."

- Stay By Maurice Williams and The Zodiacs

IV. MOUNTAIN LAKE, VIRGINA: 1963

The man in front of you was not part of your vacation plans. He was half naked, sweaty, annoyed and scowling. The man in front of you was a stranger.

Except he wasn’t.

Was he?

You knew his name by now, something you’d only learnt on Monday, or perhaps the day before. Steve, Steve Herringbone or Barrington or something. He didn’t like it when you called him Steven and he certainly didn’t like it when you argued back.

But this was supposed to be a getaway, a small summer break where you could maybe sneak a smoke by the lake when everyone had returned to their cabins and the geriatric morning yoga was done. Except your dad knew the owner of the summer retreat, a huge house settled in the Virginia countryside, the forest greener than it was back home. Bauman’s Mountain House was host to many golf courses, a fencing team, seventeen rowboats, an archery club, the best water aerobics in the state and an award winning dance show.

The very latter included the man in front of you.

Tall, broad shouldered and tanned from the summer, Steve Harrington was handsome and painstakingly so. Brown hair that he always tried to tame by pushing his hand through it, brown eyes and too many freckles to count. He wore a gold chain around his throat, black slacks and a leather jacket on his days off, driving around the resort in a BMW that made too much noise, but he didn’t seem to care.

He cared even less about his bad reputation and loud ways when his partner broke her foot weeks before the final show, a tiny girl called Nancy that you were unreasonably jealous of at first sight. You watched them both on your first night, sat between your mother and father as they took to the stage, dancing flawlessly, fluidly, like they were one whole person. You watched the way she touched him, an easy familiarity that had your stomach feeling unsettled and something inside of you burned when her hand brushed the man’s neck, holding onto him as he dipped her low, her fingers trapping two little moles and hiding them from sight.

You’d blamed the cheap cocktails and called it a night.

But then your father found him arguing with Mr Bauman about the show and suddenly you were volunteered against your own volition, your parents talking loudly and proudly about talent shows and dance lessons when you were much younger, boldly exaggerating about how must’ve been a dancer in another life as you shook your head and tried to escape back to the gazebo by the shoreline.

Now you were left spending your evenings with Steve Harrington and his tight trousers in a cabin that was much smaller than your own. There was a leak in the corner, a consistent drip from a missing nail in the roof and rainwater splashed against the wooden floor as if it were counting down the seconds.

As if it were counting down to— something.

It had rained every night since you had started seeing Steve, the stifling afternoons giving way to humid evenings that always started to smell like rain by six o’clock, sweet tea and lemonade taken over by the scent of a new downpour. There had been threats of storms, chattering of it during breakfast in the main dining hall, grumbles of it from groundskeepers during bowling on the green.

But nothing wild, not yet.

Steve had scowled the entire time he was with you, minutes and hours spent with a frown on his face as he did his best to avoid touching you, mumbling something about getting the timings right, about learning the steps and the footwork before putting it all together. It was tedious now, repetitive and too warm in his small room and even with the bed pushed to the wall, there was barely space to avoid brushing up against him when you moved.

You were flushed, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat and the same sheen made Steve’s lips look glossy, his hair sticking to his forehead in curls and flicks. You rolled your eyes when he hit rewind on the tape deck, a silent order for you to take it from the top. But you didn’t move as he made quick work on his buttons, undoing them one by one until his short sleeved shirt hung open, showing off far too much skin. Lean muscle and a smattering of hair across his pecs, more skating down the line of his navel and you sucked in a breath, pretending you hadn’t stood on your own foot.

“It’s too fuckin’ warm,” he complained, circling you as he spoke, watching you for more errors, inspecting your footwork, your posture, the way your held your head up and squared off your shoulders.

“No shit,” you couldn’t help but bite back. “How’d you think I feel?”

You wore denim shorts to his black slacks, but your cotton T-shirt was sticking to your torso now, the baby pink material too heavy and restricting for the heat inside the cabin. You pressed your lips together and moved, eyes on the wall ahead of you, your right foot moving in front of your left before you twisted your hips half a turn and—

“Take it off, then.”

You blinked, your framework going slack as you dropped both your arms and your jaw. You were hardly prudish, but something about this man had set you on edge since you’d first seen him. An electrical buzz every time you looked at him, fizzing through your bones, an invisible string tied to your insides pulling and pulling and pulling you closer. You’d ignored it until these dance practices, always turning in the other direction, putting the entire resort between you both.

But now… now?

He was standing all of three feet away, cheeks flushed from the heat and his chest on show, his hands behind his head and his fingers buried in his hair in frustration as he stared at you. Like he was challenging you. The muscles in his arms were flexed, taut cords and lines that showed off how hard he work at his job and you couldn’t help but stare.

“What?” You demanded it, a bite of an answer.

“Your shirt,” Steve nodded to the pink material, brows raised like it were obvious. He almost rolled his eyes. “Take it off.”

Above you, the rain outside fell a little harder, a consistent din against the thin roof.

You didn’t say anything. You just hoped you didn’t lose your cool as you reached for the hem of your t-shirt, untucking it from your shorts. The cotton stuck to you uncomfortably, dragging against your skin as you raised it up and over your head, the brief second where your eyesight was blinded a terrifying prospect.

Was he looking? At you? Was he watching? Did he care?

By the time you’d balled up the offending fabric and tossed it in the corner, Steve had turned his back to you, pressing some buttons on the tape deck until the song - some kind of mambo - played for the beginning again. You couldn’t see his face but you wondered if he’d caught sight of your bra, as plain as it may have been. White cotton, thin with scalloped edges and a tiny pink bow between the cups. Hardly sexy, nothing near scandalous, but there was certainly a lot more skin showing now.

Slick, damp skin that you wondered if he’d touch. It was like he wasn’t allowed to, the way he skirted around you all of the time, his hands shoved into his pockets when he wasn’t demonstrating the next step, a fist pressed to his chin as he watched you repeat his instructions, a wide palm always hovering just out of reach of your lower back when he scolded you for slouching, like he’d went to put his hands on you - only to pull catch himself at the last second.

“You gotta loosen your hips,” Steve’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he turned back around. His eyes were on the floor before he finally dragged them up your legs and over your bare stomach. He sucked in a breath. “You’re too rigid.”

“You told me to hold my shoulders,” you retorted, knowing fine well that he’d bitched about your ‘noodle arms’ for days.

“Yeah, your upper body needs to be squared off. Hold yourself tight from here up,” Steve gestured to your waist with the side of his hand. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the heat radiate from him. “But from here?” He tapped at the button on your shorts.

You froze.

“From here down, you need to put a bit of swing in the hips, alright?” He spun, putting himself behind you but you could see him in the mirror that leant against the cabin wall, an old looking thing that was too ornate to be here. Once gold, it had carvings of cherubs on the frame, tiny wreaths and rosettes intertwined with ancient style busts. “It’s a mambo, sweetheart, put a little heat into it.”

The tape begun again and Steve leant against a dresser, arms folded across his bare chest, his open shirt plastered to his skin. He watched you, waiting. The intro played and you counted the beats, nodding your head to each note and before you could hit the mark. Thunder rumbled somewhere outside and you were suddenly reminded of a man that looked like Steve, standing and watching you like that in a room much smaller than this, lit by firelight, dressed like a fighter.

“You missed the count,” Steve sighed, exasperated.

His hair had been longer, his face bruised and bleeding, but it looked just like him. A familiar scene, like you’d maybe seen it in a movie, but it felt more like a dream you didn’t recall having. You looked down at your feet, chest heaving, lips parted in confusion and you were only more dazed when you saw your bare legs and not the long skirts you expected. Your body didn’t feel like yours, not really.

Like it was borrowed, or broken.

You turned, facing Steve as if you expected him to be dressed differently, in leathers and studs and pleats, but he was still the same, just looking at you as if you’d suddenly fallen ill. Maybe you had.

“Drink some water,” he ordered, and yes, that sounded like a really good idea. “Then we’ll go again.”

You chugged the bottle, the water tepid and hard to swallow but you gulped it down greedily, praying against heat stroke or whatever else it could be that could be plaguing you with such hallucinations. You swiped at your lips and closed your eyes before you turned back to the boy and when you did, he looked the same as he always did.

Annoyed, tired, pretty.

“C’mere,” Steve said briskly, crooking a finger at you. You stepped towards him, unsure of what he was asking you, lingering awkwardly with a few feet of space between you. Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, I mean— here.”

He touched you then, his hand reaching out to grasp your own as he pulled you forward, closer than you’d ever been. There was barely space for a prayer between you both.

You thought that his hand in yours would’ve made you feel something, a spark, a fizz, that buzz that you felt in your bones around him. But something else settled over you instead, a strange familiarity, a longing for a home you didn’t know or didn’t remember, like Steve touching you was hardly anything new. His touch made you think of the sea, of vast gardens, of islands and storms and great wars, ruby wine and promises that seemed impossible to keep.

From the unsettled look in Steve’s eye as he stared down at you, you thought that maybe he felt the same thing.

But then he was fussing, moving his feet into the right position and mumbling about your stance. His hand took you with him as he moved, less than an inch separating your bare stomach from his and you let him direct you as he pleased, waiting for the song to reply from the top. The drums began, a cacophony of instruments you’d never be able to name joining in.

And then Steve was counting, his eyes suddenly fixed on yours as he nodded to the beat. “And five, six, seven—”

Steve’s other hand was on your waist.

His palm felt huge, big enough to envelop your side and his thumb was pressed into the soft of your belly, just below your ribcage. His fingers were splayed out over your bare back, his skin warm against your own and you’d never felt so completely consumed by just one touch. You were reminded of white sheets and hazy mornings, the taste of fresh bread and an open window that looked out to blue skies and you could hear a fountain spraying water.

But you were moving before you could consider it, what it meant, what it was, if it was possible to have someone else’s memories trapped in your head. Steve moved and you followed, your feet chasing his step by step as he walked you back and forth, his hips turning into yours on each beat, his shoulders set and his chin held high, ever the professional.

“Don’t look at your feet,” he murmured, barely heard over the music. “Chin up. Look at me.”

You didn’t know how to tell him it hurt to do so, how looking into his eyes this close felt like giving in, it felt like being stitched back together without any medication. You had never been aware of any wounds in your body, but this man you barely knew seemed to fill the space very well.

So you did, holding your breath until your chest burned, your eyes meeting Steve’s as you clasped his hand in your own and gripped his shoulder, letting him lead you around the cabin floor. The storm raged on, louder than before, more threatening now, like it was arguing, fighting, scolding.

The rain poured harder and what little evening light there had been was now dampened, the setting sun hidden behind navy and violet coloured clouds - but the heat was just as oppressive. Steve turned you, a twist of his body that led into yours as you spun on your toes, and when he caught you— when he caught you, his hand moved lower, slipping down your overheated skin until his fingers grazed the denim waistband of your shorts.

Maybe he saw you falter, maybe he saw your lips part, but Steve sucked in a breath and kept moving, his chest brushing your own as you stepped into his space as he danced into yours, torso meeting, separating, meeting, separating, meeting—

“Keep count,” he reminded you. “Keep counting the beats.”

You nodded, Steve’s face startlingly closer than before, as if he’d forgotten his boundaries, the box he created with strong arms, the one that kept him professional as a dancer, standing tall and strong. Now his elbows were bent, his hand falling from yours so both of his palms could bracket your hips and it was too much, it was everything you’d ever wanted, it was something you felt like you’d once had.

You just couldn’t remember who had taken it away from you.

Lightning lit the cabin, the storm over the resort, the sky black.

“Remember your hips,” he whispered, and god, god, his forehead was almost touching yours, his nose drawing a line against your own as his eyelids dropped and his lashes fanned his pink cheeks. His hands guided your waist, moving you from side to side, following the rhythm. “Listen to the beat.”

You were sure he meant the music, but it was impossible to ignore the thud of his heart against your own chest. You could feel yours even more so, a constant drumming that seemed to seep into your bones, making them crack at the edges, something blooming between them, something new and old and familiar and exciting.

Like driving into your street after a long vacation, like falling into your own bed after too many weeks away, smelling the laundry detergent that clung to everyone else that you loved. It felt hopeful, like the beginning of the morning when the only thing that had entered your thoughts was the way the sun looked in the sky, how pink it was, how the clouds seemed softer than the day before.

Steve pushed at your hips, holding them as you swayed from side to side, your hands leaving the safety of his shoulders to slip up, holding the sides of his neck, the heat of his skin scalding your palms and he nodded, pupils blown wide and lips parted as he stared down at you in amazement, like he was seeing you for the very first time.

Like he was seeing you for the first time after a very long time apart.

“Good,” he told you softly, like he was still teaching you, like this was still professional. Like he hadn’t put his hand on your lower back and obliterated whatever wall someone else had built between you. Something that had once seemed so strong was knocked down so easily, like not even a god could keep it between you. “Good. Like that, just like that—”

He swore when you moved closer, emboldened by his pretty eyes and the way his gaze tracked down your chest, down your bare stomach. His fingers flexed on your hips, blunt nails tattooing your skin and you hoped the marks would stay there, you hoped they’d be there tomorrow so you could remember that this wasn’t a dream.

His leg found its way between yours, the song finally slowing to the last few drumbeats and you knew this was the time where you were supposed to spin in Steve’s arms and raise your hand in a grand finish. But Steve tucked your hips close to his instead and let his thigh push into the seam of your denim shorts.

The song that came on next was slower, lazier, languid.

The singer had a deeper voice, the drums rolling with a dirtier beat and this wasn’t the mambo, this wasn’t a salsa and it certainly wasn’t anything you’d do in a ballroom never mind on stage in front of others. You’d seen this kind of dancing once before, the night after you first arrived at Bauman’s. You hadn’t meant it, but a walk along the lake after the sun had set had led you to a larger cabin at the back of the resort, where the lights were on and the music was loud.

Music like this.

A guy at the door with long curls and an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips had appraised you, one eyebrow lifted at your little white summer dress and tennis shoes.

“You work here?” He’d asked and you had shaken your head, ready to walk back the way you came. “You a snitch?” He asked after a pause.

Again, you shook your head ‘no’ and listened as the music inside got louder. The man, who you were sure you’d seen on stage during dinner, playing the guitar for the dining guests, just shrugged. He’d nodded to a stack of beer crates at the side of the building.

“Grab a case and keep your mouth shut, alright?” He’d opened the door for you, the music louder than ever, the smell of smoke and weed and sweat pouring out. You remember how’d he grinned at you as you took in the sight. “Have fun, princess.”

It’s where you’d seen Steve for the second time, in the middle of a makeshift dance floor with the bow tie and dinner jacket he’d worn during his evening performance long gone. Moving with a girl with his shirt buttons open, his hair a mess, grinding and manhandling her in a way you weren’t sure you would even call dancing. Everyone was doing the same, hips gyrating, skirts too short, men’s chests bare, the smiles meeting in an almost kiss.

It was nothing short of scandalous.

You’d left, dumping the beer on a table beside a watermelon that almost rolled to the ground in your panic, turning from the crowd and walking out the way you’d came. The curly haired man had snorted at the sight of your wide eyes, calling out a goodbye between laughs.

And here you were, not even two weeks later, doing the same, if not worse. Why worse? You and Steve were alone.

Thunder cracked again, louder than before.

It didn’t feel wrong to be doing this. In fact, for as much trouble as you’d be in if your father had had to catch you, everything about it felt right, like you’d done it before, like this man was yours to touch. But something that felt like danger lingered in the air, a threat far more serious than your dad or Mr Bauman.

But still, you let your body move with Steve’s, a slow grind of your hips into his and when your hand found the nape of his neck and your fingers twisted into his hair, Steve’s palm cupped your ass, pulling you into him, making you feel how affected he was.

It should’ve scared you. How this man was touching you, this person you barely knew, alone in a cabin and who you were so sure had hated you only a mere ten minutes before. But Steve looked as gone as you felt, eyes filled with longing, a passion that was visible, his brows knitted together as he stared down at you hungrily, lovingly, adoringly.

It was almost too much to bear. So you let your head fall back, body slack as you kept dancing, trusting the man to keep you upright and against his own chest and you heard Steve let out a breath at the sight of your exposed neck, the long line of it offered to him like a sacrifice.

“That’s it,” you heard him murmur. “You feel the beat now?” His words fell on your throat, your bare skin, the top of his nose drawing a line from the base of it to your jaw, his mouth following and you were so sure he wasn’t talking about the music anymore.

But you nodded, clinging to him when he dipped you backwards, his hands holding you like you were precious, like you were made of marble and gold and suddenly you felt like Steve could’ve been. Like someone had taken a piece of the earth and grown this man from it, just for you. Like he had something ancient in his bones, like whatever he was made of you, you were created from the same thing too.

When he pulled you back up, effortless and graceful, you were closer than before, impossibly so. Chests meeting in the middle as you both panted into each other's parted lips, noses meeting and foreheads touching. Steve’s hands were curled around your waist, fingers splayed across your naked back as if he couldn’t bear not to touch every part of you. Your hand was on his neck, your fingers brushing over two moles on his tanned skin, the ones you’d watched Nancy touch before you.

But as you pressed your fingertips to them, your lips buzzed and Steve let out a sigh, like you’d unravelled a knot in his spine, like you’d found a magic button that fixed him. Like you’d touched a place that you’d once touched before.

“You’ve never touched me before,” you whispered, voice cracking on each syllable because it suddenly was too much.

Steve looked pained, lashes fluttering as his gaze dropped to your lips and he struggled to find the right words to give you. “I— I shouldn’t be doing it now,” he murmured. “I’m not allowed.”

“Why? Because of your boss? My dad?”

He grinned, a smirk that faltered too quickly and he shook his head, still not moving from you, his nose nudging yours as he struggled to keep himself from shifting closer still. “You’d think that should’ve been enough to keep me away.” Steve licked his lips and you tracked the movement, so sure that he’d taste like summer and salt and the peach tea from the diner. “Not even the threat of losing my damn job and house can keep me away from you.”

His words had an effect on you, breath hitching, chest aching. “Then who said you’re not allowed?”

The song was still going, a lazy beat that was easy to sway to, Steve’s leg still wedged between your thighs and his hands were wandering, sensual and slow, a whole other kind of dance over your skin. Fingers gripped at your waist before one hand trailed down your hip, over your bare thigh, ghosting over the line of your torn off shorts. He brought your thigh to his hip, hitching your leg high, pressing you both together until you could feel him all, until he could feel all of you.

Laid bare enough for you to feel like he could take the very soul of you from your body.

You found that you didn’t mind the idea of it at all.

“You’ll laugh at me,” Steve murmured but he didn’t sound embarrassed at all, like he didn’t actually believe that you would.

You shook your head, nose brushing against the tip of his and if you moved another inch, just one, you could’ve been kissing him, mouth slotting against his. “I won’t,” you promised.

“I started having dreams when you came,” Steve told you. “Dreams where it always rained and the sky was always dark. And there was a man there, a thing, maybe. But he felt ancient, older than the fucking world and he told me to stay away, to keep away from you.”

You didn’t laugh. No. No, in fact, you didn’t say a damn thing.

Steve laughed, breathless and without any humour, and his hand trailed back up your thigh as your leg dropped slowly to the floor. He spun you both, lazy and languid, but the world around you both still blurred. The cabin faded away, a mix of the low lights and the colours of his quilt on the bed.

You could barely hear the storm, but god, it was the loudest it had been.

“I want to do ungodly things with you,” Steve confessed and he sounded pained, his throat tight with the same kind of emotion you felt, like you were both sharing the same heart. “I want to do ungodly things to you.”

“Steve--”

“I know it sounds crazy, but there’s somethin’-- somethin’ in the sky or in the goddamn cracks of the earth that’s telling me I shouldn’t.” His bottom lip grazed your top one, an almost kiss, a whisper of one, a mere idea of it. Hardly a touch. “That something real bad will happen if we do.”

You couldn’t explain it, just like you couldn’t explain your sudden proximity to the man, the achingly familiar closeness you felt. But you knew, somehow, some way, Steve was right.

Tears stung your eyes, a fiery nip that you tried to blink away and when the music slowed to a stop and the next song began, Steve kept moving, your body melted to his, no space between either of you to be able to determine where you ended and he began.

Your voice cracked when you spoke. “What should we do?”

Steve took a breath before he answered, one hand coming up to push against your hairline, his palm coasting down your cheek, holding you, cherishing you. His touch was hot with adoration.

“We can keep dancing.”

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