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leona-hawthorne · 1 month ago

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AURORA / mattheo riddle

requested / part 2

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary: in the aftermath of the second wizarding war, mattheo is sent to azkaban for his crimes. when released and faced with the harsh reality that you had, unbeknownst to him, had his child and had been raising her alone all these years, he falls apart.

based on this lovely request right here!! @isntthatsweetiguessso sorry for taking literally a month bb ily and this brilliant concept

warnings: angst, mom!reader, dad!mattheo, swearing, sad but happy ending!!

words: 4.6k

a/n: so sorry to the person who requested it for taking so long :( i hope this is something like what you had in your head. its very long, fluffy part 2 is out now!

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist part two

The world outside Azkaban had always felt like a distant memory to Mattheo. The walls, the cold, and the constant torment of his own mind had been his reality for six long years. But now, walking the streets of Diagon Alley as a free man, the memories felt sharper, more painful. He had imagined this moment so many times—stepping back into the life he'd left behind, finding you, and maybe, just maybe, picking up the pieces of what you two had.

But nothing could have prepared him for this.

It was supposed to be a simple walk—an aimless stroll to ground himself, to remind himself that he was no longer trapped in that hellhole. But as he turned the corner, there it was: Brews and Stews. The same café you both used to sneak away to when the world got too loud. His heart clenched at the sight, and before he knew it, his feet were pulling him closer, as if some invisible force was guiding him back to the past.

Then he saw you.

You were sitting at one of the outside tables, sunlight bathing you in a warm glow that made you look almost ethereal. His heart stuttered in his chest as he stood frozen on the cobblestone street, staring at you like a man starved. Six years, and you were still the same. Beautiful, captivating. You were reading a book, the furrow of your brow as mesmerizing as ever.

For a moment, he considered turning back. He didn’t belong here. Not anymore. You had probably moved on; you had to. Six years was a lifetime. But just as he was about to retreat, the small figure next to you caught his eye.

A little girl, her brown curls bouncing as she laughed, sitting beside you at the table. She was a blur of motion—happy, full of life.

"Mama, look!" the child giggled, holding up a small trinket, her voice full of excitement. "Isn't it pretty?"

You smiled, reaching over to stroke her hair, and that’s when Mattheo felt the world collapse around him. Mama. The word echoed in his head, ripping through his chest like a knife. His stomach twisted painfully as he watched the scene unfold before him.

You had a child.

For a split second, his mind couldn’t process it. A child. A little girl. With you.

His heart thundered in his chest, and his fists clenched at his sides. It wasn’t possible, was it? You had moved on. Of course you had. Six years was too long for anyone to wait, especially for someone like him—a man who had done unspeakable things, who had been imprisoned for it. Why would you wait for him? And yet, the thought of you with someone else, of you having a family, was enough to suffocate him.

He took a shaky step back, the weight of the realization crashing down on him. He wasn’t ready for this. He hadn’t prepared himself to see you like this. But just as he was about to turn away, you glanced up.

Your eyes locked with his, and the world seemed to stop.

"Mattheo?" Your voice was a breathless whisper, as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. The expression on your face shifted from shock to something else—something he couldn’t quite read.

His breath caught in his throat as he stood frozen, every muscle in his body tensing. You were staring at him, those eyes he had dreamed of every night in Azkaban now filled with confusion, and something else... regret, maybe?

But then the girl looked up too. She had your eyes, but the rest of her—the wild brown curls, the soft slope of her nose—it was like staring into a mirror. She had his features.

He couldn’t move. His gaze flicked between you and the girl, heart hammering in his chest as his mind screamed for answers. The question hung heavy on his lips, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask it.

"Come on, Aurora," you said quickly, standing up and gathering your things. Your voice wavered, the panic evident as you scooped the girl into your arms. "We have to go."

You brushed past him without another word, holding the little girl tightly as you hurried away from the café. His body moved instinctively to follow, but his feet were rooted to the spot. He watched you walk away, the weight of the unanswered question heavy in the air.

Aurora looked back at him once, her big, curious eyes staring into his, and then she was gone, disappearing down the street with you.

He stood there for what felt like hours, his mind spinning. That girl—Aurora. She was his. He could see it now, clear as day. He could feel it. The brown curls, the shape of her face, the way her eyes had stared at him with that same intensity he’d seen in his own reflection.

His daughter.

The realization slammed into him, nearly knocking the wind out of his lungs. How could you not have told him?

With heavy steps, he set off down the street, following the path you had taken. His heart pounded in his chest, each step bringing him closer to the confrontation he had dreaded but needed. He wasn’t sure what he would say, wasn’t sure how you would react.

But one thing was clear: he wasn’t going to lose you again. And he wasn’t going to lose his daughter. Not after everything he had already lost.

Mattheo’s heart pounded in his chest as he strode through the narrow streets, the weight of what he’d just seen pressing down on him with every step. The world felt suffocating, spinning around him in a blur of emotions—anger, betrayal, heartbreak. His hands shook at his sides, clenched into fists as he tried to keep his mind focused on the only thing that mattered now: finding you.

You couldn’t have gone far.

Aurora. Our daughter, the thought kept repeating in his mind like a relentless drumbeat. His daughter—his little girl, and you had never told him. He hadn’t known, hadn’t been there for anything. The rage simmering inside him was barely contained as he searched the crowd, every face blurring together until he finally saw you, ducking into a quieter street with Aurora still in your arms.

His legs moved before he could think.

“Y/N!” His voice was a shout, desperate, raw. You didn’t stop. “Y/N, stop!”

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide with panic, but you didn’t slow down. Mattheo’s breath was ragged as he pushed through the crowd, forcing his way closer. He wasn’t letting you run from this. He wasn’t letting you run from him. Not again.

Finally, you reached a quiet alleyway, and Mattheo caught up to you just as you were fumbling with your wand, trying to Apparate. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

“Mattheo—” you started, but he cut you off, the fury burning in his chest.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” His voice boomed through the narrow alley, raw and loud. “Is this what I think it is, Y/N? Is that my goddamn kid?”

Aurora flinched at his raised voice, her small body shrinking into your arms. You immediately shifted her to your other hip, turning her face away from him.

“Mattheo, not here,” you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced down at your daughter. “Please.” And the first conversation you’re having after six years is going to be an argument.

“Not here?” he spat, eyes blazing with fury. “That—That’s my daughter,” he sputtered. “You fucking kept my daughter from me. Don’t tell me to calm down.”

You winced at the venom in his voice, but you didn’t move, your eyes pleading with him to lower his voice. “You don’t understand. Let’s just talk about this. I didn’t know how to—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he repeated, louder this time, his voice trembling with rage. “You didn’t know how? You knew damn well how to keep her from me! You didn’t even try, Y/N.”

“I…” You hesitated, the guilt written all over your face, but Mattheo wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” he forced out, the pain bleeding into his voice now. “I fucking rotted in Azkaban for six years, thinking I had nothing left. And all this time, you had her? I—I had a kid? ”

Aurora shifted again in your arms, and Mattheo’s heart wrenched as he saw her big, curious eyes peek out from beneath your hair. She didn’t know him. She had no idea who he was, and that realization broke something inside him.

“How could you?” His voice cracked, his eyes burning as he stared at you, searching for some explanation that would make any of this hurt less.

You closed your eyes, breathing deeply as if steadying yourself before meeting his gaze again. “I didn’t know what to do, Mattheo,” you said softly, the edge of panic still there but buried beneath layers of hurt. “You were in Azkaban. I didn’t think you’d ever get out.”

“That’s bullshit!” he snarled, his hands trembling as he ran them through his hair. “You could’ve written. You could’ve found a way! You could’ve let me fucking know I had a daughter!”

Tears welled in your eyes, your lips trembling as you looked away, the guilt eating at you. “I… I was scared,” you whispered, barely audible over the sound of his labored breathing. “I was scared she’d grow up without you. That she’d grow up knowing what you were forced to be… and I didn’t want that for her.”

Mattheo’s chest heaved with the weight of your words, but it only stoked the fire of his rage. “That’s not your decision to make, you had no right to keep her from me!”

You blinked, tears spilling down your cheeks as you clutched Aurora tighter. “I didn’t do it on purpose. You weren’t here. You literally couldn’t be here. I was trying to protect her—”

“From me?!” he shouted, the words scraping from his throat like broken glass.

Aurora’s tiny whimper cut through the air like a knife, and Mattheo’s heart shattered. He hadn’t meant to scare her, hadn’t meant to let his anger bleed into his voice, but it was too late now.

You stepped back, rocking Aurora gently in your arms, trying to soothe her as you looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Mattheo.”

“Then what the fuck were you trying to do?” he spat, his voice low now, hoarse with emotion. “Because it sure as hell feels like you didn’t give a shit about what I’d feel. I missed everything. Everything, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, and the weight of his words settled over you like a blanket of regret. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” you whispered. “I didn’t know if I could. And by the time I thought about it, too much time had passed. I thought… I thought maybe it was better this way.”

Mattheo let out a bitter, hollow laugh, his eyes wild as he stared at you. “Better? Better?! How the fuck is this better? I lost all six years of her goddamn existence! Six years! I didn’t get to see her first steps, didn’t hear her first words, didn’t even know she existed. And you think that was better?”

You sobbed, clutching Aurora close to you as if the little girl could shield you from the onslaught of his anger. “I’m sorry,” you cried, your voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Mattheo.”

But sorry wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to undo the years of pain, the years of loneliness and anguish he had endured in that cell, thinking he had lost you, lost everything.

He took a deep, shaky breath, forcing himself to look at the little girl—Aurora. His daughter. She was watching him now, her big eyes wide and confused, her small fingers gripping your shirt. She looked so much like him.

“Aurora,” he said, his voice a broken whisper.

She blinked at him, tilting her head slightly as if she didn’t understand why he was looking at her that way. Of course she didn’t. She didn’t know him. He was a stranger to her. And that hurt more than anything else.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Mattheo whispered, his voice barely audible now. “You kept her from me.” He shook his head, tears of his own threatening to spill over. “You took everything from me.”

You wiped at your eyes, shaking your head. "I didn’t want her to grow up around this—around what we were part of. I didn't want her to know the darkness.”

“But that darkness is a part of me, Y/N,” Mattheo snapped, his voice breaking. “It's who I am. I can’t escape it, no matter how much you want to pretend it’s not there. And you—you kept my baby from me because of it?”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of your decision hanging between you. “I made a mistake, Mattheo. I thought I was doing what was best for her.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time since you’d left the café, Mattheo’s anger began to ebb, replaced by something even more painful—regret.

Mattheo stood frozen, his chest heaving with the weight of all that had just transpired. His gaze shifted between you and Aurora, trying to piece together the shards of the life he thought he’d lost. His anger still simmered beneath the surface, but as he watched you, tears streaming down your face, and saw Aurora clinging to you with wide, confused eyes, something inside him softened.

But the more he looked at you, standing there with Aurora in your arms, the more the anger started to unravel into something deeper, something rawer.

Because it wasn't just about Aurora. It was about you. You, the woman he'd loved so fiercely before everything fell apart. The woman he had held onto in the darkest hours of Azkaban, when hope was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind.

He had missed you— fuck, he'd missed you— and now you were here, standing in front of him with his daughter. And as furious as he was, as shattered as he felt, that love hadn't gone anywhere.

He hadn't seen you in six years, but you still made his heart race in ways he couldn't control.

“Y/N,” he whispered, the anger in his voice beginning to crack, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

"I used to run my fingers through her hair every night," you whispered suddenly, your voice cracking as you glanced down at Aurora's curls. "Because she has your curls. And it made me feel closer to you."

Those words hit Mattheo like a punch to the gut, his chest tightening as the reality of it all began to sink in. You hadn't forgotten him. In all those years, despite everything, you had tried to keep a part of him with you-through Aurora.

He swallowed thickly, his throat constricting. "Why didn't you write me?" he asked, the question soft now, almost a plea. "I could've—hell, I don't know what I could've done, but I would've known. I would've been there in some way. Anything but this."

You sighed, wiping another tear from your cheek. "I didn't think you'd ever get out. I thought..." You took a deep breath, struggling with your words. "I thought it'd be easier if she didn't know. If you didn't know. And I was wrong. I see that now."

He falls silent for a while, his eyes trained on the beautiful girl in your arms.

“She’s really ours?” Mattheo asked, his voice softer now, though the tremor of rage still lurked. “That’s her name? Aurora?”

You nodded, wiping at your cheeks as you pressed a kiss to Aurora’s head. “Yes,” you whispered. “That’s her name.”

Mattheo let out a shaky breath, his heart clenching at the sound of it. Aurora. His daughter. Aurora’s wide eyes met his, so innocent, so big and full of wonder, but also a little shy, hiding in the safety of your arms. She didn’t know him. How could she?

His heart broke even more.

“Well, you do look like quite the princess,” he murmured, his voice soft and careful as if speaking any louder would scare her away.

Aurora’s brow furrowed, still unsure, but Mattheo could see the curiosity shining in her eyes. She stayed pressed against you, her small fingers clutching your shirt.

“Mama,” she whispered, looking up at you, her voice trembling. “Why are you crying?”

Your breath caught as you tried to answer, but words seemed to fail you. Instead, you simply stroked Aurora’s hair, trying to steady yourself. Mattheo watched, helpless, as Aurora’s small hand reached up to touch your cheek.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m just—just a little sad, baby.”

Mattheo could feel the weight of everything pressing down on you both. He had a million questions, a million things he wanted to yell, but none of it would make sense right now. Not with Aurora watching, her innocent eyes darting between the two of you, trying to make sense of something so much bigger than her little world had ever allowed.

“Who is that, Mama?”

"Remember when you asked me where your Daddy was and why he wasn't here?" you whispered to Aurora, your voice shaking as you cradled her close. "Remember how I told you your Daddy loved you, and that he'd find us one day?"

Aurora’s gaze flicked back to Mattheo, her little forehead creasing in confusion.

“That’s him, sweet girl,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “That’s your Daddy.”

Mattheo’s breath caught in his throat as those words hit him like a tidal wave. That’s your Daddy. For all these years, that’s all he should have been—her father, her protector, her everything—and instead, he was a stranger. He blinked back the sting in his eyes, trying to keep himself together for her sake.

Aurora’s little fingers clung tighter to your shirt as she processed what you’d said. She looked back at Mattheo, her eyes wide and uncertain.

Mattheo’s heart ached with the silence, with the lost years that could never be undone. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, but he knew he couldn’t—at least, not yet. She didn’t know him, and that hurt more than anything else.

You looked down at Aurora, gently prying her small hands from your shirt before setting her down on the ground. “It’s okay,” you whispered softly. “You can say hello.”

Aurora hesitated, her little body leaning toward you, and then slowly, cautiously, she moved to hide behind your legs. Mattheo’s heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her shy little face peeking out at him. His own daughter was scared of him.

He crouched down to her level, making himself as small as he could, hoping it would make him seem less intimidating. He had no idea how to be a father, no idea what to say to this little girl, but he had to try.

“Hey there, Aurora,” he murmured softly, trying to keep his voice gentle, steady. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She didn’t respond, just kept her wide eyes on him as she clung to the back of your leg. Mattheo’s heart shattered further, but he swallowed hard, forcing a shaky smile.

But Aurora, as shy as she was, was still a child. And as she looked at him again, her small voice broke the silence. "Are you really my daddy?"

Mattheo's throat tightened, the words lodged there, unable to come out. He was scared—terrified, really— of what to say, of how she would react. But he nodded, his voice breaking as he whispered, "Yeah. That's me."

Aurora stared at him, her eyes big and full of questions, her small hands clutching onto your shirt as if grounding herself. But after a long, silent moment, she seemed to relax, her lips parting into the tiniest smile.

"I always wanted a daddy," she said softly, her voice full of innocence. "All my friends have daddies. I wanted one too."

His chest ached. He was the stranger here, and yet, in her little mind, he was still the man she had been waiting for. The man you had told her would one day come for her. He could see it— the confusion, the shyness— but there was something else in her eyes too.

She'd been missing him. She just didn't know who he was.

Mattheo's chest ached, the guilt and sorrow clawing at him from the inside. "I wanted to be there," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I wanted to be with you, with both of you. I didn't know."

Aurora looked at him for a moment longer, and then, to Mattheo's shock, she smiled a little wider, still shy but no longer fearful. She reached out tentatively, her small hand gripping his for the first time. The warmth of her touch sent a wave of emotion crashing through him, and for the first time since seeing you again, something inside him shifted. Maybe this wasn't all lost. Maybe he hadn't missed everything.

Aurora giggled softly, her small hand still wrapped around his. She brought her other hand to his face, pressing her palm to his cheek. "You're my daddy," she said again, as if testing out the words.

Mattheo's throat tightened, tears stinging his eyes as he smiled-truly smiled-for the first time in what felt like years. "Yeah, princess," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm your daddy."

Aurora's little laugh was music to his ears, and when she finally released his hand, she took a step back, hiding behind your legs again but peeking out from around you with a shy grin.

“You know, when I look at you…” He trailed off, his throat tightening as he swallowed down the lump that had formed there. “I see so much of your mum in you. But I see me too.” He let out a soft, shaky laugh, blinking through the tears that threatened to spill. “You got my curls, huh?”

Aurora’s wide, curious eyes flicked between the two of you, her tiny fingers gripping the fabric of your pants. Mattheo felt a surge of protectiveness, an instinct that told him to reach out, to hold her, to assure her that everything would be okay. But he hesitated, unsure if he even had the right to touch her after all this time. She had been a stranger to him just moments ago, and now… now she was his entire world.

Her small voice broke the silence again, tentative but filled with the kind of honesty only a child could muster. “Do you love my mama?”

Mattheo’s heart lurched at the question. His gaze snapped to you, meeting your teary eyes. The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation. You quickly glanced away, biting your lip as you tried to keep your composure.

Aurora blinked up at him, waiting for an answer. “All my friends’ parents love each other,” she continued, her voice soft, innocent. “They kiss and hold hands. Do you love her?”

Mattheo’s throat tightened, and he felt his pulse quicken. How could he even begin to explain the depth of what he felt? The years apart hadn’t dulled it—if anything, the ache had only grown sharper. You had been his world before Azkaban, and every lonely, torturous day behind bars had been filled with memories of you, of your laugh, your smile, the way you used to look at him as if he was the only person that mattered.

He had loved you then. He loved you still.

But now, standing before you, the mother of his child, the weight of everything left unsaid between you was crushing.

He swallowed hard, his gaze shifting back to Aurora. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I do.” Mattheo’s eyes softened as he glanced at you again, his heart aching with everything he wanted to say. “I’ve always loved her,” he admitted, his voice low but firm. “I’ve never stopped.”

You looked at him, your lips trembling as another tear slid down your cheek. You were trying so hard to be strong, but the years of separation had taken their toll on both of you. And now, with Aurora standing between you, the bond that had once been so unbreakable felt fragile, like it could snap at any moment.

Aurora, still holding onto your pants, tilted her head, watching the two of you with that same curiosity. “Mama,” she said softly, “why are you crying again?”

You let out a shaky breath, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “I’m okay, baby,” you whispered, brushing a hand through her hair in a soothing gesture. “It’s just… a lot.”

Mattheo stood up slowly, running a hand through his curls, trying to compose himself. He felt a swell of love for you, something he had been suppressing in his anger. You had raised this beautiful little girl all on your own, carrying the burden of their absence in silence. You had done it for Aurora—for him. And even though he was furious that you had kept it all from him, a part of him understood. You were protecting her, protecting yourself.

He took a deep breath, his voice soft but unsteady as he spoke again. “I missed everything,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “Her birth, her first words, her first steps... all of it. I wasn’t there.”

You flinched, guilt flashing across your face. “Mattheo, I—”

“No,” he cut you off gently, shaking his head. “I’m not trying to blame you. I just… I missed it all. And I don’t know how to make that right.”

Aurora, sensing the tension, leaned into you, her arms wrapping around your leg. “Mama, is Daddy staying with us?”

Mattheo’s heart clenched at the word. Daddy. He had never thought he would hear it—never thought it was even possible. But now, hearing Aurora say it so casually, so innocently, it hit him all over again. This was his daughter. His family.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, crouching down again to her level, his voice gentle as he tried to meet her eyes. “I’m going to be here. I’m going to make it right, okay?”

Aurora blinked, processing his words, and then her lips curved into a small, shy smile. She still seemed a bit confused, but there was a trust forming, something fragile but real.

She looked up at you, her tiny voice full of hope. “Does Daddy love me too?”

You sucked in a breath, your eyes flicking to Mattheo, waiting for him to answer. His throat tightened, but he didn’t hesitate this time.

“More than anything,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he held her gaze. “I love you, Aurora. I loved you before I even knew you were here.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x y/n #slytherin boys #harry potter #slytherin #benjamin wadsworth #x reader #mattheo riddle angst #angst #reader insert #marcus lopez arguello

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makeitmingi · 4 months ago

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Let The Heart Love Again

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader (y/n)

Characters: DanceTeacher!Reader, SingleDad!Wooyoung, Daughter (Jung Yoonseo)

Summary: When Wooyoung's daughter expressed interest in sharing his passion for dance, he immediately signed her up for the next class. However, he didn't think that he would be star struck by his daughter's teacher. Maybe, just maybe, he was ready to open his heart again.

[A/N: Thank you to my girls @songmingisthighs and @luvt0kki for being such great supporters and cheering me on <3 This story is centered around Wooyoung and Yoonseo (mostly Wooyoung and his internal feelings), slowly inviting (y/n) in.]

Word count: 10k

Wooyoung was always known as one of the better dancers in the group with his seductiveness and sharp lines. Especially after he got the chance to be Artist of the Month and perform his dance piece live with BB Trippin.

"Appa! Appa!" He emerged from the kitchen when he heard his daughter, Yoonseo, call for him.

"Oh, Yoonseo ah. You're home. How was your day?" He dried his hands on the towel hanging on his apron and went to the daughter, wrapping his arms around her.

"Good." She grinned, throwing her arms around his neck.

"I'm starving!" San declared, making Wooyoung slap his arm for yelling when the front door was still open.

"Thanks for bringing her out." Wooyoung smiled. San shook his head with a smile. He never found it a chore to help Wooyoung look after his daughter.

"No need to thank. We both had fun." San chuckled, ruffling Yoonseo's hair.

"Dinner will be done soon. Go wash your hands and face then we can sit down to eat." Wooyoung kissed his daughter's cheek and patted her back. San lifted Yoonseo up and she squealed with laughter as San brought her to the bathroom to wash up. Wooyoung laughed and shook his head at them.

"Don't make a mess in the bathroom and leave the ground wet again!" Wooyoung called out, remembering how the two were splashing water at each other the last time.

"She started it!" San complained. Wooyoung sighed and dished up what he cooked.

"You're helping me wipe the floor later." Wooyoung said, leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"Let's go, gongju nim." San lifted Yoonseo onto her boosted seat. Wooyoung placed her rice bowl in front of her, another in front of San and went to get his own.

"I want jelly." Yoonseo declared.

"Later, baby. Have dinner first." Wooyoung stroked her cheek as he sat down next to her.

"No... I want it now~ Jelly first." Yoonseo whined, frowning and even pushing her rice bowl away from her. Wooyoung sighed and placed his chopsticks down, one thing he was still trying to master as a parent was disciplining Yoonseo.

"Gongju nim, we should have dinner first. Appa cooked all this delicious food for you." San stepped in, sensing Wooyoung's internal struggle. Yoonseo pouted.

"No pouting. I promise you can have a jelly later, alright?" Wooyoung told her, gently holding her chin to make her look at him.

"Promise?" She held her pinky up.

"Promise." Wooyoung nodded and laced pinkies with her.

When it came to Yoonseo's tantrums, Wooyoung always tried to speak as calmly as he could. He was afraid of letting his stress and own emotions get to him.

It happened before. He unintentionally yelled at Yoonseo when she was throwing a tantrum, startling her. It ended with the both of them in tears while Wooyoung was apologising profusely to her.

"Thank you for the food." Yoonseo said before eating a spoonful of rice. Thankfully, Yoonseo was a good eater and not picky.

"Good girl." Wooyoung patted her head and San smiled proudly at her, already starting his dinner. Wooyoung would eat his food then cut up some food to give to Yoonseo. Having cooked for her since she was born, he already knew what she liked. And like her dad and Ateez uncles, she likes beef and noodles.

"Is it good?" San asked and Yoonseo nodded happily. Wooyoung cut up more beef into cubes and put it on her rice bowl, making sure she had plenty of white kimchi.

"Baby, soon you'll be able to eat regular kimchi like uncle Sannie." Wooyoung smiled.

"Spicy." She pouted.

"We can ask halmeoni to make it a little spicy. But it's perfectly okay to just eat white kimchi too." Wooyoung chuckled. All the kimchi in his house was made by his mother.

"Eat your carrots, baby." Wooyoung said, noticing Yoonseo not eating the carrots in her japchae.

"You usually like carrots." He tilted his head, using his chopsticks to put the small strip of carrot that she pushed away onto her spoon.

"Uncle Sannie doesn't eat carrots." She pointed out. Wooyoung looked up, raising an eyebrow at San, who was picking the carrots out of the japchae too. San froze in his spot, staring pleadingly at Wooyoung, silently begging to not eat it.

"Fine." He muttered under his breath, eating the carrot and making fake happy noises.

"It's so good! I love carrots!" San strained. Seeing that, Yoonseo copied and ate the carrot too.

"You need to stop learning the bad habits from your uncles." Wooyoung scoffed. Mingi and Hongjoong didn't like vegetables too but Wooyoung forced them to eat it around Yoonseo.

"More." Yoonseo held her empty soup bowl.

"I don't hear a magic word?" Wooyoung raised his eyebrows.

"Please?" She said in her cute voice. Wooyoung smiled immediately and stood up to get her more soup. After scooping her more, he placed it down in front of her.

"Thank you, appa." She grinned.

"You're welcome, baby." Wooyoung cooed and went back to eating. One of the things Wooyoung swore to do was to raise Yoonseo right. While she could be whatever she wanted, Wooyoung wanted to raise her to be polite, kind, caring and respectful. He made sure she had manners with whoever was around her.

Especially since he was known as one of the ATEEZ members that would call juniors out for their lack of respect towards seniors. Even when Yoonseo couldn't talk yet, he taught her to bow to elders.

"Uncle Sannie, can we show appa the pretty clothes later?" Yoonseo sat with with a beam and a sparkle in her eye. San laughed and nodded his head.

"Of course. You can show him all the dresses you chose on your own." San said.

"You picked them all by yourself?" Wooyoung feigned surprise. Yoonseo nodded proudly.

"That's great, baby. I can't wait for you to show me later." He stroked her hair. Hearing that, Yoonseo let out an excited squeal, even kicking her legs.

"Done. Thank you for cooking, appa." Yoonseo balanced herself on the table to give her dad a peck on the cheek.

"I'm glad you ate a lot." Wooyoung said, happy that Yoonseo cleared her bowl. He brought her dishes to the sink first while he and San finished up their meal. Yoonseo was colouring in the living room, waiting for them to finish.

"Did she forget about the jelly?" San leaned over to whisper to Wooyoung, the two of them looking over at the girl who was busy colouring her Pooh Bear book.

"I think so... But I'll still give it to her. A promise is a promise, whether she remembers it or not." Wooyoung shrugged.

"You're such a good dad. I would have just not reminded her." San giggled.

"Other things maybe but a small jelly? I'd rather not hang on to that guilt. She was pretty upset." Wooyoung chuckled. When they were done, San insisted on helping Wooyoung with the dishes.

"Baby, did you forget about the jelly I promised you?" Wooyoung called from the kitchen.

"Oh!" The pattering of her feet against the floor was heard before she appeared right by Wooyoung's leg.

"Here we go. You can choose which one." He lifted her up so she could see the bag of jelly cups in the fridge. She took her time, jutting her lips out with a small frown on her face as she decided which flavour she wanted, as if this was the last jelly cup she was going to have forever. Wooyoung found her adorable.

"I want strawberry. Grape for Uncle Sannie and apple for appa." She grinned, holding Wooyoung's, San's and her own jelly cups to her chest protectively.

"My baby is so kind." Wooyoung smothered her in kisses before putting her down.

"Why don't you give this to Uncle Sannie and I'll open your jelly cup for you?" Wooyoung suggested. She nodded and ran to San.

"Uncle Sannie, for you!" She tiptoed as she held the jelly cup out to San. San turned to see her and quickly wiped his hands. Wooyoung took a picture of the two of them.

"Thank you, gongju nim." San smiled softly, patting her head.

"Appa, I did it!" She giggled as she ran back to Wooyoung. He held out the opened jelly cup to her.

While Yoonseo enjoyed her jelly cup, she sat with Wooyoung in the living room. She casually just sat in her father's lap, the two of them enjoying each other's company, not needing to have the television on or multiple toys around.

"You two are such father-daughter goals." San laughed as he walked over, his phone in his hand to record the two of them. Wooyoung scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"That doesn't even make sense, San ah." Wooyoung called out.

"Gongju nim, are you ready to show appa what we bought today?" San crouched down. Yoonseo's nodded excitedly.

"Appa, sit here!" Yoonseo patted the couch. Wooyoung saluted and sat on the couch while Yoonseo grabbed San's hand and dragged him to the room.

"Close your eyes, appa!" Yoonseo yelled from the room. His daughter could be so dramatic, he doesn't know where she gets it from.

"My eyes are closed!" He replied, covering his eyes with his hands. He could hear her excited running.

"Don't run, baby. You might trip and fall." He cautioned.

"Open your eyes!" She giggled, her voice a lot closer, telling Wooyoung she was right in front of him. When Wooyoung opened his eyes, he saw her in a cute white linen dress with strawberries all over. Wooyoung's eyes practically sparkled like his daughter's did. To him, Yoonseo looked good in everything.

"You're so pretty, baby!" Wooyoung cooed. Yoonseo shyly giggled, fiddling with her fingers as she twirled for him. San came out of the room, clapping his hands.

"This is my favourite." He sat down.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you say that for all the outfits." Wooyoung scoffed. San nodded in agreement, he was a fool for Yoonseo too.

One by one, San helped Yoonseo change into the clothes that he bought her to show off to Wooyoung. Yoonseo was basking in all the compliments from her dad and uncle.

"Last one." Yoonseo ran out. Wooyoung melted, seeing Yoonseo in a ballerina outfit.

"Ask him." San leaned over to whisper encouragement to Yoonseo. Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, having heard that.

"Appa, can I do ballet?... Please?" She added the magic word at the end, not wanting to be reminded again for forgetting. Wooyoung got down from the couch, coming over to his daughter and holding her hands in his own.

"You wanna learn ballet?" He asked.

"I want to dance. Be cool like you!" She grinned, swaying her body, making the chiffon ballet skirt move too.

"You're already cool, baby. You don't need dance to be cool. But if you really want to try ballet, let's do it." Wooyoung smiled, tucking her stray hairs behind her ears.

"Yay! Thank you, appa!" She threw herself into Wooyoung's arms, wrapping her own arms around his neck.

"You're welcome. But are you sure you want to learn ballet? Not other types of dance." Wooyoung checked. Yoonseo nodded her head.

"Okay, we can start with ballet. Also, did you thank uncle Sannie for buying you all these clothes?" He pulled away to look at her. Both her and San nodded.

"That's my girl." Wooyoung smiled, stroking her hair.

That night, Wooyoung stayed by Yoonseo side a little longer, having read her a story to help her fall asleep. He couldn't help but stare at her and smile fondly at how she has grown. It wasn't easy raising a newborn on his own. He had help from Ateez and his parents but he still did a lot on his own.

Yoonseo's mother thought that having a daughter with Wooyoung would make Wooyoung quit being an idol.

When it didn't happen as intended, she left Wooyoung and Yoonseo before Yoonseo could even be discharged from the hospital. She wanted nothing to do with both of them.

Wooyoung begged her to stay, not for him. She didn't need to love him anymore. He wanted her to be there for Yoonseo.

But she refused and left. The nights Yoonseo would cry for hours and couldn't be consoled, Wooyoung silently cried along with her.

He felt so much guilt towards Yoonseo for lacking and being unprepared as a parent raising a baby. Furthermore, he had to juggle his idol life and being a present father to her.

The last thing Wooyoung wanted to do was be absent. Yoonseo's mother already abandoned her, he wasn't going to do the same. He was going to make sure that he was there for Yoonseo when she needed him. She became his priority.

It was hard and he knows it will continue to be but he'll continue to learn. And one thing's for sure, he'll never regret having Yoonseo in his life.

"Oh my gosh!"

"What happened?" Wooyoung ran out of the recording booth when he heard Mingi exclaimed loudly.

"Yoonseo just flipped on her own!" Yunho explained. Wooyoung's eyes brightened as he bent down to scoop Yoonseo up into his arms, showering her in kisses.

"There's my smart girl. You flipped on your own?" Wooyoung asked her, even if she couldn't reply.

"Put her back down!" Yeosang urged. Wooyoung rolled his eyes and put Yoonseo back down on the mat, laying her on her back. Having just learnt how to flip onto her stomach, she was obviously having fun with this new skill.

"Show appa how you flip!" Wooyoung clapped. Yoonseo grunted a little, struggling to lay on her side. She then rolled onto her stomach, letting out little happy babbles.

"My baby!" Wooyoung cheered.

"Man, I love tummy time." Jongho said, recording the whole thing. However, Wooyoung's cheer was apparently too loud, startling poor Yoonseo, making her burst into tears and wails.

"Aww, shh, shh. It's okay, darling. It's just your loud appa." San lifted Yoonseo into his arms, comforting the crying baby.

Her first steps took place in Hongjoong's studio. Until now, Hongjoong still claims that he was the 'chosen one', whatever that means.

"See? She likes me better." Hongjoong said, holding Yoonseo in his arms in a forward facing seated position.

"Just don't drop her please." Seonghwa shook his head, he didn't like that Yoonseo was in the recording booth. There were wires every where, Hongjoong could trip and fall with Yoonseo in his arms.

But as Hongjoong rapped into the mic, Yoonseo stared up at him with wide eyes, not scared or startled by Hongjoong's seemingly loud and/or powerful rap. Wooyoung laughed, taking his phone out to capture the moment of Hongjoong rapping but looking down to meet Yoonseo's gaze.

"First, you're taking your first steps here. Now, you're in here, recording with me. You like me the best right?" Hongjoong chuckled.

"Not true!" San yelled from behind.

Wooyoung felt like he had disappointed Hongjoong the most when the news of Yoonseo's conception came about but he was relieved to see the captain playing with her and helping to take care of her.

Now, they're inseparable.

That was Yoonseo's charm. Not just her natural charm but the personality that Wooyoung cultivated by teaching her manners and kindness.

"I love you." Kissing her forehead, Wooyoung left Yoonseo's room.

After Yoonseo's mother left, Wooyoung never trusted anyone new again. It was how he guarded and protected himself and Yoonseo. He wasn't going to let anyone abandon Yoonseo again.

"Are you that excited, baby?" Wooyoung chuckled, seeing Yoonseo jump up and down while giggling, still holding Wooyoung's hand as they walked down the hall of the dance studio.

Prior to this, Wooyoung did extensive research on what dance studio was recommended for kids, reading through tons of reviews and asking friends for recommendations. This studio was well reviewed and parents seemed to like the teachers.

"Hang on, baby. Before you go in, I want to talk to you." Wooyoung squatted down to be on eye level with Yoonseo.

"I'm going to be late." Yoonseo pouted.

"It's alright, baby. I just wanted to tell you, it's okay to not be the best from the start, alright? You'll learn and practice." He held her hands but Wooyoung wasn't even sure she was listening.

"Okay." She nodded.

"Jung Yoonseo, you're not even listening to me." Wooyoung scoffed, tapping her on the nose. But he knew she was just excited.

When they knocked, there was a small reply before the glass door opened. You stood there with a soft smile on your face. Wooyoung hadn't even realised he was staring.

"You must be our new friend, Yoonseo. Oh wow, your skirt is so pretty." You bent down with a kind smile. Only when you spoke, did Wooyoung break out of his trance. Yoonseo shyly giggled at your compliment, fiddling with her skirt. When you held your hand out to Yoonseo, she gladly let go of Wooyoung.

"Let's sit here and do some stretches." You sat Yoonseo down with the other students in class before walking back to Wooyoung.

"Don't worry, Mr Jung. She's in good hands." You assured, assuming he was still standing there because he was worried about Yoonseo. But honestly, he was still stunned by you.

"T-Thanks. And call me Wooyoung, Mr Jung is my dad." He smiled with a chuckle. You giggled and nodded your head.

"We'll see you after class." You bowed respectfully to him and closed the glass door.

"Jung Wooyoung, what was that?" He scolded himself softly. He peeked through the viewable gap on the glass door.

"Let's all say hello to our new friend, Yoonseo. How do we greet everyone?" You asked the class, clapping your hands as you stood on your knees beside Yoonseo.

"Hello." The other girls in the class curtsied like ballerinas would.

"Let me help you, Yoonseo. First, we're going to open our arms up, point our foot to the side. This is the starting position." You gently and patiently adjusted Yoonseo's feet, arms and posture to teach her how to curtsy.

"My name is Yoonseo." Yoonseo shyly curtsied while introducing herself to the rest of the class. She looked at you with uncertainty but you smiled at her, encouraging her.

"That was great, all of you." You clapped for everyone in class. Taking a deep breath, Wooyoung left the dance studio.

"You dropped Yoonseo off for her first day at dance?" Yeosang asked as Wooyoung entered the KQ studio.

"Yoonseo's learning dance?" Jongho's eyes sparkled.

"Yeah. She wanted to learn ballet and luckily there's a really well reviewed studio near here so why not? You guys would faint over how cute she looks in her ballet outfit." Wooyoung smiled.

"Awww, look at the little princess." Yunho cooed when Wooyoung showed them the picture.

"Then she got annoyed with me taking so many pictures, saying I was making her late." Wooyoung slid to show Yoonseo's frowning, pouty face.

"Guess she learnt to be impatient from someone..." All 7 boys turned to the captain, who blinked in confusion then realised they were talking about him and frowned at them. Hongjoong was the one that always had to yell at the boys and rush them because they were running late. He had to, he was the captain.

"I'm not impatient. You guys just have no respect for punctuality." Hongjoong scoffed.

"Okay, okay. Let's start practice before we have our other schedules." Seonghwa rounded everyone up before Hongjoong could start lecturing them on punctuality.

"Oh! Yoonseo's ending soon." Wooyoung sat up after seeing the time.

"We should go pick her together." Mingi suggested and everyone nodded excitedly.

"W-Wait, maybe we shouldn't. It may overwhelm the other kids there and stuff. It's her first day there, I don't want her to be awkward around her friends." Wooyoung said.

"You're acting weird..."

"Is the dance teacher cute or something?" San raised his eyebrow.

"No! I didn't even notice her... I just don't want Yoonseo to be nervous or uncomfortable, okay?" Wooyoung said a little too defensively, making the boys look at each other knowingly. In the end, Yeosang volunteered to go with Wooyoung, who reluctantly agreed.

"This is the studio." Wooyoung said as he and Yeosang walked down the different dance studios. There were other parents there, waiting for the class to be over.

"Oh, she is pretty..." Yeosang tilted his head, peeking into the class. Wooyoung slapped his arm.

"There are other people here. Don't make comments like that." Wooyoung hissed, bowing to the other parents respectfully.

"Can you see Yoonseo?" Wooyoung asked.

"Yeah, she's so cute." Yeosang chuckled. He moved aside to let Wooyoung see. Yoonseo was giggling as she ran around the room with the other children.

"Arms up and down, pretty like a butterfly!" You encouraged, running alongside the children.

"Alright. I'll see all of you next week. Let's say goodbye and line up." You said at the end of the class. You stood at the front of the dance studio, before the mirror to curtsy to the class. The girls did the same to you, thanking you. They lined up obediently as you walked to the door to open it.

"Oh!" You and Wooyoung jumped as you opened the door, coming face to face with him. He apologised, rubbing the back of his neck while Yeosang snickered beside him.

"No, it's alright. I should have noticed you standing there." You chuckled and Wooyoung shook his head to deny it.

"Appa! Uncle Sangie!" Yoonseo beamed and waved.

"How was class, kiddo?" Yeosang bent down to talk to Yoonseo while you and Wooyoung were still flustered from earlier. You briefly broke away to say goodbye to the other kids and greet their parents.

"It was so fun!" Yoonseo jumped happily. You smiled softly, patting her head.

"She's a natural. And I mean it. Her musicality, flexibility, ability to comprehend the steps." You said to Wooyoung.

"That's good. She must have her dad's dance genes then. Wooyoung here is one of the best dancers in our team." Yeosang cut in. Your eyebrows raised in interest.

"I'm sorry I don't really listen to a lot of kpop but Yoonseo, here, tells me that you're in a group. I assume you are in the same group too?" You respectfully gestured to Yeosang with two hands. Yeosang nodded in confirmation.

"Sorry about him. We should go, come on baby. Say goodbye to Miss..." Wooyoung blinked, realising he didn't ask your name.

"(y/n)! Her name is Miss (y/n), appa!" Yoonseo informed enthusiastically. Wooyoung nodded stiffly. Suddenly, he found himself finding your name so adorable.

"I'm Yeosang." Yeosang waved, making you laugh. Yoonseo hugged your legs, surprising you slightly. But you patted her back with a smile.

"See you next week, Yoonseo and Wooyoung sshi." You giggled.

"Thank you." Wooyoung bowed. Yoonseo followed suit, bowing at the waist respectfully.

"That's my girl." Wooyoung praised as Yoonseo grasped her dad's hand. You smiled at the two of them, it was the first time meeting them but you could tell they have a good relationship.

"Thanks again, (y/n) sshi." With a final wave, the 3 of them walked away. After strapping her into her car seat, Yoonseo couldn't stop rambling on about her first ballet class, telling her dad and uncle what she did. Yeosang glanced at how distracted Wooyoung was as he drove, a knowing smile on his face.

"I can't wait for next week!" And for some reason, Wooyoung found himself excited for Yoonseo's next dance class too.

Wooyoung's subconscious mind did want to do 'well' to make a good impression on you. However, the following week, he ended up calling the ballet school, stuck in a KQ meeting and late to pick up Yoonseo.

"Miss (y/n), Yoonseo's dad just called the front desk, saying he'll be a little late." The receptionist told you.

"No worries, I'll watch out for her." You smiled before she could even request or suggest. Yoonseo was a great kid, you didn't mind.

"Yoonseo ah, your appa will be a little late. Wanna stick with me for a bit?" You chuckled as you poked your head into the dancer's den where the students changed, kept their belongings and prepared for dance. She nodded excitedly.

"Do you know your appa's phone number?" You asked, bending down in front of her. She shook her head.

"That's okay. I'll ask. Come on." You held your hand out for her to hold as you walked to the front desk to get Wooyoung's number.

'Hello, Wooyoung sshi! This is (y/n), I hope you don't mind that I got your number from the front desk. I wanted to let you know that Yoonseo will be with me. - (y/n)'

'Oh! (y/n) sshi, thank you so much. I'm so sorry to trouble you, I'm trying to get out as soon as I can. - Wooyoung'

'No worries, I love having Yoonseo around. If it's okay with you, can we go out for some ice cream? - (y/n)'

'Of course! - Wooyoung'

"Shall we go get some ice cream? Your appa said okay." You asked. Yoonseo cheered and jumped happily. After you got changed and packed, you took her to the ice cream parlour nearby.

"Alright, you can pick what you want." Wrapping your arms around her, you lifted her up to the glass so she could see what flavours there were. Yoonseo chose cookies and cream while you chose raspberry white chocolate. The worker scooped Yoonseo's into a cup and came out to hand it to her.

"Thank you." Yoonseo said politely, receiving the cup with both hands. You smiled at her and paid for both your ice creams.

"Thank you, Miss (y/n)." Yoonseo turned to you as you both headed to a table to sit.

"You're very welcome, Yoonseo." Seeing Yoonseo at eye level with the table, you lifted her up to sit in your lap. She leaned slightly against your arm, comfortably eating her ice cream.

"Appa is always busy during comeback." Yoonseo told you.

"Does that mean you're usually with your omma then?" You asked back. Yoonseo shook her head.

"I don't have an omma. I only have appa." She replied. You didn't realise how possibly insensitive you were, assuming that Yoonseo had a mother.

"And that's okay." You smiled softly, stroking her hair.

While eating your ice cream, you learnt a lot about Yoonseo, how she was raised by her dad and 7 uncles, whom you assume are the other ATEEZ members that you googled about. Wooyoung's effort paid off because he raised a great kid.

RING RING

"Hello? Wooyoung sshi?" You answered the call. Yoonseo perked up when she heard you address her dad.

"Hey, (y/n) sshi. I know I already asked a lot of you but is it okay for you to bring Yoonseo to my company? I should be ending soon. I don't want to take too much of your time."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. But I'll bring her over." You told him.

"Thank you so much! I'll let the front security know you're coming. Just go to the 5th floor."

After getting rid of your empty ice cream cups, you and Yoonseo headed over to KQ. Like what Wooyoung said, the security at the front let you in after asking your name and recognising Yoonseo.

"Do you come here often?" You asked Yoonseo.

"Yeah. Appa comes here to work and dance. Uncles too." She replied. You nodded with a hum, you've never been into an entertainment company before. Since Yoonseo seemed familiar, you let her lead the way. There was a door labelled 'Artist Lounge' that she entered. However, it was empty, only tables and chairs around.

"I wait for appa here." She informed, climbing onto the loveseat with familiarity. You sat beside her, not feeling comfortable leaving her here alone, even if she was familiar with the place.

So, you stayed with her.

"Oh my god, I have to go." Wooyoung shot out of his seat the moment the meeting concluded. They were discussing their next comeback.

"Everything okay?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yoonseo." Was all Wooyoung said. Not offering much else, the boys thought something happened to their niece and rushed alongside Wooyoung to the artist lounge.

However, Wooyoung froze, making the 7 of them crash into him like an animated cartoon. Wooyoung saw you sitting on the loveseat with Yoonseo in your lap, her front leaning against yours as you held her while the both of you slept.

"What the... Who is that?" Seonghwa whispered.

"That's Yoonseo's dance teacher. Woo's new crush." Yeosang replied. At Yeosang's words, Wooyoung broke out of his trance.

"She is not my crush. She's not." Wooyoung frowned defensively, directing the last part at Hongjoong, who stared back at Wooyoung with raised eyebrows.

"She is pretty though." Yunho smiled. Wooyoung felt oddly protective at his friend's words.

"Yoonseo~ (y/n) sshi~" You jumped a little when Wooyoung lightly shook you and Yoonseo. You blinked, realising where you were.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry." You apologised, realising Yoonseo was still asleep in your lap. Then you saw Yeosang and the other Ateez members standing behind him, looking on.

"Mmm..." Yoonseo groaned, rubbing her face against your chest.

"Yoonseo, come on." San stepped forward to lift Yoonseo up. Yoonseo comfortably leaned into her uncle's arms, pressing her cheek into his shoulder. You stood up and bowed deeply to the others, feeling your cheeks heat up. You didn't think you would be meeting an idol group, dressed in sweats.

"I'm so sorry." You apologised, bowing repeatedly.

"No need to apologise. Thank you for taking care of Yoonseo and staying with her. Sorry for taking so long." Wooyoung shook his head and you smiled sheepishly.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Yunho. You're Yoonseo's ballet teacher?" The tall male held his hand out for you to shake.

"Hello. I'm (y/n), it's a pleasure to meet all of you. Yes, I teach ballet. You're the main dancer in the group right?" You asked with a laugh.

"Yeah! How did you know?"

"When Yoonseo told me her dad and uncles are kpop idols, I went to search online. She said you're all really great dancers." You smiled, looking at the sleeping girl.

"(y/n) sshi, it's late. Let me drop you back home?" Wooyoung cut in, offering you a ride home. Before you could open your mouth to refuse.

"Please, I insist. You stayed so late with Yoonseo, it's the least I could do, make sure you get home safe." He cut you off. You closed your mouth and nodded. Wooyoung reached over to carry Yoonseo in his arms while you helped to carry her dance bag.

"Thank you, Wooyoung sshi. It was nice meeting all of you. Have a great night." You bowed to the Ateez members and left with Wooyoung. The members all waved to you as you exited.

"By the way, I went back to watch Ateez videos. You're a really good contemporary hip hop dancer." You complimented.

"Ah, I'm shy. You're so much better with how difficult ballet is." Wooyoung coughed.

"No, your artist of the month dance was amazing. Yoonseo definitely had your dance genes." You giggled.

"Thank you. I'm glad she wanted to start with ballet for the foundation. Maybe she'll progress to other genres." Wooyoung shrugged. He dreams of performing with Yoonseo one day.

"Whatever she chooses, I know she has a great teacher to guide her." You looked at him, making him all flustered.

"Anyway, I hope she wasn't too much trouble. Thanks again for looking after her." Wooyoung chuckled, changing the subject. You opened the car door for him to strap a half aleep Yoonseo into her booster seat and fastening the seat belt.

"Not at all, Wooyoung sshi. Yoonseo's a great little girl, very kind and courteous. You've raised her well." You giggled.

"... I'm guessing she told you that her mom isn't in the picture then..." Wooyoung said after a short pause, seemingly uncertain of what to say. You hummed and nodded your head.

"I'm sorry, it must not be easy." You said.

"Oh, you thought- No, she's alive... I think? She left right after Yoonseo was born." Wooyoung corrected.

"Ah, I guess I shouldn't have assumed... But you know, maybe it's for the better. Rather than have a parent that feels forced to stay... If that makes sense... Yoonseo still has a parent and uncles that love her... and want her." You said, rubbing the back of your neck. Wooyoung nodded, he knew what you meant.

"Don't worry, it does make sense. And I agree. All I want is for Yoonseo to be happy, to grow up feeling loved. As long as she is happy, I'm happy." He smiled.

"I'm sure she is. The way she talks about you and her uncles, I can tell. You've done great. My opinion doesn't matter since we just met but-"

"No, it does. It really does. Thank you for saying that, it means a lot." Wooyoung said.

"She's going to grow up to be an amazing person." You smiled softly, turning back to see the sleeping Yoonseo.

"She teaches me so much too, reminds me to enjoy the simpler things in life." He smiled. Right on time, Wooyoung's car pulled up to your apartment building.

"Thank you for the ride, Wooyoung sshi. I'll see you next week?" You bowed and unbuckled your seat belt.

"It's no problem. We'll see you next week. And please, call me Wooyoung." He said confidently and bravely, hoping to indirectly imply that you have both become friends of some sort. You weren't just his daughter's dance teacher.

"Sure but that means you call me (y/n) too. I hope I'm not overstepping but if you ever need someone to watch Yoonseo, you can always ask me." You smiled.

"Not overstepping at all. Thank you. I might just take you up on that, Yoonseo really loves your company." He chuckled.

"I love her company too. Goodnight." With a final greeting, you stepped out of Wooyoung car and headed into the building.

Watching you disappear into the building lobby, Wooyoung let out a long exhale, leaning back against the driver's seat. Many questions raced through his head.

Did he see a future with you and Yoonseo?

Furthermore, was he ready to open his heart again? Because letting you into his world would mean letting you into Yoonseo's world too.

Following that night, you didn't expect Wooyoung to text you again. But he did. It wasn't anything personal, it was Yoonseo forcing her (surprisingly inflexible) uncles to do ballet stretches with her. The pained expressions on the grown men's faces made you burst out laughing as you had a break from your ballet class.

'Poor uncles!! I hope Yoonseo goes easy on them. - (y/n)'

'If she's anything like me, she definitely will NOT go easy on them. Needless to say, she's the best in this class. And she wanted me to tell you that she reminded them to point their feet. - Wooyoung'

'As her teacher, I am proud to hear that. She has improved so much! - (y/n)'

"Who are you texting that's got you all giggly?" Your friend asked, sipping her water.

"Oh, just one of the parents from my littles class." You shrugged, playing it off as nothing special. You were hyper aware of Wooyoung's celebrity status so you were extra careful.

"A dad, I'm assuming? Is he single?" Your friend raised her eyebrows, nudging you playfully. You rolled your eyes.

"Yes, it's a dad. And I don't know why it matters but yes, he's single. Whatever you're insinuating, it's not gonna happen. He's 100% dedicated to his daughter, as he should be." You scoffed. She sent you a knowing smile.

"Give him a medal then. But don't assume anything, my dear (y/n). Anything is possible." She slung her arm around you.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's head in, I want a good barre spot." You said and headed into the studio for your dance class.

Maybe she was right. Because the conversation didn't die there. You and Wooyoung were texting almost everyday. Both of you were not dry texters and genuinely enjoyed chatting with each other.

"Baby, you can just give her the cookies after class." Wooyoung said as Yoonseo excitedly pulled him along.

"No. I want to give it to her before!" Yoonseo insisted. Yesterday, Yoonseo baked cookies and of course, she set a portion aside for her dance teacher.

"Okay, okay." Wooyoung gave in. He wasn't going to fight his daughter on this when she's been excited to give the cookies that they she worked so hard on. But (y/n) wasn't in the studio when they arrived. Wooyoung assumed she just hasn't arrived to prepare for the class yet since they did come early.

"Aww, she's not here." Yoonseo pouted.

"I think we're a little too early, baby. I'll ask the receptionist if she's here yet, okay?" Wooyoung offered, not liking to see his daughter so disappointed. Yoonseo nodded and followed him to the front.

"Excuse me, is (y/n)- I mean, Miss (y/n) here for class yet?" Wooyoung asked the lady.

"Let me check... Yes, she's here but she's in class. It'll be ending soon." The lady informed after checking the log.

"Oh, okay. Thank you." Wooyoung nodded. So you were the student in ballet classes for more advanced dancers. It should be a 'duh' moment but obviously it didn't occur to him.

"Miss (y/n) is like you, taking class with a teacher." Wooyoung informed Yoonseo.

"Oh... But she's also a teacher?" Yoonseo tilted her head.

"She's a teacher to you. But to an older teacher, she's a student." Wooyoung tried to explain it. to her. Yoonseo nodded, walking beside Wooyoung back to wait at the studio where Yoonseo usually had her classes. Until they walked past the biggest dance studio.

"Miss (y/n)!" Yoonseo pointed, now that the dance teacher had opened the door to the studio.

"Shh, Yoonseo. No shouting." Wooyoung chided but looked to where his daughter was pointing. Your hair was in a bun and you were basically wearing what Yoonseo wears as you did pointe work.

"Squeeze your ankles! Engage your core!" The instructor shouted as he clapped his hands to the melody of the music.

"And gracefully, come down. Close with arms in first position." He went around, checking.

"Psst, (y/n). I think that's one of your students." One of your friends leaned over to whisper. You blinked, turning your head to see Yoonseo and Wooyoung there.

"Oh, it is..." You gave the father and daughter a small smile. Yoonseo waved back.

"Wait, one of your kiddos is Ateez Wooyoung's daughter? And you didn't think to mention this?" Your other friend whispered harshly. You laughed and shrugged. Honestly, deep down, it was a secret that you liked to keep to yourself. Maybe you were feeling a little selfish, you had no idea.

"Class dismissed." The teacher concluded. You grabbed your bag and was about to leave when Wooyoung saw one of the males stop you. He leaned in to whisper something to you.

"Mmm, of course." You said with a laugh, nodding your head. After that, he let you go and you walked over.

"Sorry, am I late for class?" You asked Wooyoung and Yoonseo.

"N-No, we came early." Wooyoung said, snapping out of his trance. Yoonseo held a plastic pack of cookies out to you. You bent down to be on her eye level.

"For me?" You pointed to yourself. Yoonseo nodded with a proud grin.

"We made cookies yesterday! This is for you. The samchons ate everything else..." She sulked.

"Well, thank you for making sure I have some, Yoonseo." You patted her head with a giggle. Yoonseo beamed, happy to have made you happy with her cookies.

"Miss (y/n), was that your boyfriend?" Yoonseo asked as you walked with her to your class studio. Wooyoung nearly choked at his daughter's direct question but admittedly, his ears did perk up to listen to your answer.

"No, he's my dance partner. We have a performance coming up and we're doing a dance together." You explained.

"Oh." Yoonseo nodded. Wooyoung found himself subconsciously nodding too.

"I don't have a boyfriend." You said to her casually, opening the studio door for her to enter. Wooyoung stood by the door, not entering the studio.

"You can come in, Wooyoung. Just remove your shoes." You chuckled, leaning into your bag to grab some water to drink. You grabbed an overshirt to wear over your leotard and tights.

"Thank you." Wooyoung bowed as he entered. He has never felt so awkwardly, he felt like he was the kid, sticking to Yoonseo as if she was the parent, not him.

"Can I wear special shoes like you one day?" Yoonseo asked, sitting next to you as you removed your pointe shoes.

"Of course. If you work really hard, you can be an amazing ballerina." You smiled. Hearing that, Yoonseo looked up at her father with sparkling eyes. Wooyoung smiled softly, Yoonseo never really had a female figure she could look up to. And as he got to know you better, Wooyoung couldn't have asked for a better role model.

"I better go before the other students come. Have a great class, you two." Wooyoung stood up. You and Yoonseo both waved to Wooyoung as he took his leave.

He bowed to the other parents on his way out, his heart feeling fluttery after that encounter with you.

"Calm down, Jung Wooyoung." He scolded himself in the car.

Letting out a long sigh, he drove to the dorms to find Yeosang and San. Them having been friends for so long and being the closest, Wooyoung needed to speak about this with them.

"Wait, you're talking about Yoonseo's dance teacher, right?" San raised an eyebrow as he sat down.

"Mhmm." Wooyoung sighed, hugging Yeosang's pillow to his face, groaning in frustration.

"This goes without saying but are you sure you like her? In that way..." Yeosang threaded cautiously. Wooyoung took a while to reply, sitting up on the bed.

"I am in denial of whatever feelings I have for her. But I know it's something more because the last time I felt this way was with Yoonseo's mom. I can't even describe it, I'm almost scared of that feeling." He sighed.

"I'm not scared for me, I'm more scared for Yoonseo. I have to protect her, even if it means sacrificing what I want for her." He continued.

"That's where you're wrong, Woo. You are scared and it's okay to be. You have given up a lot for Yoonseo but at the same time, you didn't give yourself a chance to grieve." San stated.

"I don't need to grieve for that woman." Wooyoung scoffed.

"I think San means grieve for your relationship. At the end of the day, at some point, you saw a future with her." Yeosang said.

"A future that she didn't want." Wooyoung glared. Yeosang reached over to rub Wooyoung's back. He and San were the ones that were there the most when Yoonseo's mom left.

"It's okay to afraid, cautious, whether its for you or Yoonseo. But shouldn't close yourself in forever." San adviced.

"Don't give up on love so quickly." Yeosang smiled softly.

"A date won't hurt. If you're compatible, you're not. But you never know. And from what I see, Yoonseo does love her dance teacher a lot. I don't know her personally to judge whether she is or will be a good mother but I think she liked Yoonseo a lot too and seems to take great care of her." San said.

"She's an amazing role model to Yoonseo. And I'm not just saying that because I feel some way for her, she's great with her. And Yoonseo idolises her." Wooyoung said.

"And I know you're worried about the whole idol thing but don't assume things on her behalf. Let her honestly tell you herself."

"Okay, I'll... think about it. But Yoonseo and Ateez still come first." Wooyoung chewed on his bottom lip.

"Sure, sure." Yeosang laughed.

True to his words, Wooyoung didn't act on his feelings right away. His focus was still on Ateez schedules and Yoonseo but he did think about his feelings.

He continued to text you as per usual and you always replied happily, the both of you took turns starting the conversations.

"Appa, appa!" Yoonseo's feet padded into Wooyoung's bedroom and he watched her climb onto his bed. Wooyoung put his phone aside, blinking as he watched Yoonseo excitedly climb into his lap, his arms reaching out to support her.

"Can I help you?" Wooyoung chuckled.

"I want to go for Miss (y/n)'s concert!" Yoonseo excitedly bounced in Wooyoung's lap.

"Why do you suddenly want to go, baby? Also, is that how we ask for things around here?" He raised an eyebrow at his daughter. Yoonseo covered her mouth with her hands.

"Please? Today, Miss (y/n) wore a pretty dress! Like a princess. She said she's dancing in many many pretty dresses!" She grinned.

"No promises, baby. Let me see if I have schedule. If not, we'll buy tickets to go." Wooyoung said.

"Yay!" Yoonseo cheered. Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh, Yoonseo is generally a happy kid but he's hardly ever seen her so excited about seomthing before.

"Do you really like Miss (y/n)?" Wooyoung asked. Yoonseo nodded her head vigorously.

"Why?" Wooyoung tilted his head.

"She's pretty! And... and... she's nice! She takes care of me like you and samchons. I want to make her a lot of cookies." She listed out, tapping her chin. There was a lot more that she wanted to express to Wooyoung and he knew that, but this was the best that she could with her limited vocabulary.

"Wow, you really do like her..." Wooyoung said with amusement. Yoonseo nodded in confirmation, shyly leaning down onto her father's chest.

"But I love appa most!" She added.

"I'm happy to hear that, baby." He chuckled and stroked her hair, kissing the crown of her head.

"What about you, appa? Do you like Miss (y/n)?" Yoonseo blinked innocently. Wooyoung opened his mouth but closed it, unsure of what he 'should' be answering. Instead, he shrugged.

After that, Wooyoung broke his own rule and let Yoonseo sleep in his bed with him. He just wanted her close.

"I'll always protect you." He whispered.

"Umm, excuse me. I was wondering if there are still tickets for the senior company showcase?" Wooyoung hesitantly asked the receptionist of the ballet school.

"Wooyoung?" You entered the school, seeing the father and daughter there. Yoonseo squealed and hugged your legs.

"Hello, Yoonseo. It's nice to see you too." You giggled and bent down to her height so you could hug her back. Even after you stood back up, Yoonseo still glued herself to you. You put your hand on her back, holding her.

"We're hoping it's not too late to buy tickets to the senior showcase. Princess, here, wants to go." Wooyoung explained. You looked down at Yoonseo, who grinned back at you.

"Oh... Y-You both wanna come for the showcase?" You asked.

"Yes! To watch Miss (y/n)!" Yoonseo cheered. You looked to Wooyoung, who nodded in confirmation.

"You don't have to buy tickets. I have two free tickets, you can take them." You chuckled, nodding over to the hallway for you and Wooyoung to walk towards the studio.

"No way, I can't take them for free. You should save them for your family or something." Wooyoung shook his head.

"If I had people to give it to, I would have. My parents are out of town, as usual. So who better to give the tickets to? Rather than let them go to waste." You explained. Yoonseo looked to you then her dad.

"Plus I think they're actually sold out." You added with a laugh.

"Well, I guess there's no other option. Alright then, we'll take them. Thanks." Wooyoung rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thank you for coming to support us. I have the tickets in my locker, I'll give them to you at the end of class?" You asked. Wooyoung nodded with a hum. He would have corrected that he and Yoonseo were going to support you, not the entire senior company. They were solely going to watch you.

After class, Wooyoung didn't come to pick Yoonseo up alone. Yunho and San wanted to tag along. They stayed back until almost all the children and their parents were gone.

"Samchon!" Yoonseo excitedly ran to her uncles.

"Oh, hello." You bowed to San and Yunho. They waved before bowing back with kind smiles.

"Here are your tickets, Wooyoung. Thanks again." You handed the envelop to Wooyoung with two hands. Yunho and San leaned over to peek at it.

"What are the tickets for?" San asked.

"We're going to watch Miss (y/n) dance!" Yoonseo informed. You laughed and nodded your head.

"Are we invited too?" Yunho tilted his head. You were stunned by his question while Wooyoung's eyes widened before he punched the taller male's arm.

"No, none of you are going except me and Yoonseo." He glared.

"I'm sorry, Yunho sshi. I only have 2 free tickets and the rest are sold out... But I do appreciate you wanting to support the senior company. If there are future showcases and performances, I'll definitely let you know." You bowed in apology.

"I look forward to that." Yunho winked, making you choke slightly and look away shyly.

"Tsk, stop that. And don't apologise to him." Wooyoung interjected. You nodded your head slowly, unsure of how to react.

"Alright then. Let's go." San bowed to you and you bowed back. Yoonseo waved as San dragged Yunho and Wooyoung out of there. You just stood there and waved to all of them.

"Yun, cut it out." Wooyoung said once they were in the car. He didn't need to explain further, Yunho should know what he was referring to.

"Just being nice and making more friends in the dance world. Why are you all bothered?" Yunho asked back.

"I am not. Just stop with whatever it is you're doing." Wooyoung frowned. Yunho shrugged, he wasn't too affected by Wooyoung's pissy attitude towards him.

"Okay, both of you stop. Kid in the car." San cut in, reminding them that Yoonseo was there. Luckily Yoonseo was distracted by something out the window, not really paying attention to whatever conversation her dad and uncle were having. Wooyoung sighed and just continued driving.

Honestly, he didn't know why he got all bothered too. That's how Yunho usually is with new people, very friendly, which Wooyoung should be used to.

When he pulled up to the dorms where they were going to have dinner together, Yunho walked with Yoonseo.

"Hey, man. You gotta tone it down a little." San said as he and Wooyoung walked behind the two.

"I know. I don't know what came over me. It really looked like he was flirting with her and I just... I felt possessive almost." Wooyoung sighed with a shake of his head.

"There's my baby girl!" Hongjoong yelled as Yoonseo jumped into his arms.

"How was dance class, my little ballerina?" The captain walked in with Yoonseo while the 3 members removed their shoes and went to greet the others. Hongjoong sat down on the couch with Yoonseo in his lap. Seonghwa came out of the kitchen and scoffed.

"That's it, he's just going to stay there the entire night and not help." Seonghwa glared.

"Be honest though, hyung. Do you actually want him in the kitchen?" Jongho asked. Seeing that the maknae had a point, Seonghwa went back to the kitchen.

"Let me help, hyung." Wooyoung came in, washing his hands. He and Seonghwa were usually the ones in the kitchen.

"So, Yeosang told me about your little... dilemma." Seonghwa said as he cooked the chicken.

"Tattletale." Wooyoung muttered under his breath.

"Don't blame him, he's just concerned for you and not sure on how to help. I think it's great, by the way. That you're slowly allowing yourself to trust and accept new people into your life." Seonghwa said.

"You think so? Because I'm terrified. I feel like I'm being selfish if I act on my feelings, not putting Yoonseo and Ateez first. I already made that mistake once."

"A mistake, maybe. But we all make mistakes. Don't be afraid of making mistakes, Woo. It's part of life. You got a really great kid out of it. And sometimes, you have to put yourself and your feelings first. If not, you'll always be missing out or losing out on great opportunities. We won't blame you." Seonghwa smiled.

"Thanks, hyung." Wooyoung gave a small smile.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Let yourself love again. Just don't bring home another kid yet." Seonghwa chuckled.

"Tickets, please." The usher held his hand out. Wooyoung handed the guy his and Yoonseo's tickets. He led them to their seats, which was quite near the stage.

'Friends and Family'

That was when Wooyoung realised the tickets the dancers had were better seats, closer to the stage.

"Are you excited, baby?" Wooyoung asked. Yoonseo nodded her head, kicking her legs excitedly. More than excited, Wooyoung felt nervous, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

"Why are you hiding your face?" Yoonseo asked, pointing to the black mask Wooyoung had on.

"I think I have a stuffy nose." Wooyoung lied. He wore his mask in case any fans recognise him. He wanted to the attention to be on the performance, not on him. The plan was to remove the mask when the lights were dimmed.

"Appa, where is Miss (y/n)?" Yoonseo questioned as she held the programme book. Wooyoung held the booklet and flipped through it.

"Let me see... There. She is in 4 dances." Wooyoung said, pointing each time your name appeared. He hoped that Yoonseo was tall enough to see you on stage.

"When is it going to start?" Yoonseo stood up.

"Sit back down, please. It'll start soon, baby." Wooyoung patted the seat and Yoonseo pouted, climbing back on.

And as Wooyoung said, the lights dimmed a little later, signalling the start of the showcase. Yoonseo let out a little excited squeal and Wooyoung softly hushed her.

When it was your first item, Wooyoung felt his heart race a little. The moment the curtain opened, he saw you.

You looked absolutely beautiful, mesmerizing even. The costume fitted you perfectly, flowing along with your movements. To Wooyoung, you were like the main dancer with a glow around you, as if the spotlight was on you the entire time you performed. And no, he wasn't being biased, so he says.

"Do you see her?" Wooyoung leaned over to ask Yoonseo softly. She nodded and pointed to you with a big grin on her face.

"Can she see us?" Yoonseo whispered.

"Maybe." He chuckled, patting her head. They continued watching through the rest of the performance. Wooyoung loved each one more than the last.

Except when you performed a duet with a male partner. If looks could kill, your partner would be 10 feet underground.

He eyed the way your partner held your waist to support you during your turns and he hated the part where you stared into each other's eyes before he dipped you down.

"Appa? Are you okay? Do you need to pee?" Yoonseo asked softly, placing her hand over Wooyoung's when she saw his expression.

"No, baby. I'm fine. I don't need to pee." Wooyoung smiled.

At the final curtain call, everyone stood up to applaud the dancers. Wooyoung supported Yoonseo to stand on her seat to wave to you. You definitely saw them and waved back. Your eyes met Wooyoung and you smiled softly. He waved back to you and clapped.

"Miss (y/n)!" Yoonseo let go of her father's hand and ran straight to you when she saw you come out backstage.

"Yoonseo!" You dropped your bag and bent down. Opening your arms, you let her run to hug you tightly. You hummed, swaying from side to side.

"You were amazing!" Yoonseo excitedly squealed.

"Thank you. I'm really happy you came. I saw you right from the start." You softly pinched her cheek.

"For you." She held out the rose that she was carrying with her.

"It's beautiful." You patted her head. Wooyoung broke through the crowd, panting as he was looking for where Yoonseo ran off to. You straightened up and smiled at him.

"Yoonseo, you know you're not supposed to run like that! There are so many people here." Wooyoung frowned.

"But I saw Miss (y/n)." She pouted, hugging your leg.

"Thank you for coming, Wooyoung." You bowed. The both of you walked away from the main crowd to have some more privacy. Wooyoung handed you the bouquet of flowers that he was holding. You blinked at it, feeling your cheeks heat up. This wasn't the first time you got flowers but from Wooyoung, you felt flustered.

"You were great, by the way. Thank you for the tickets. We enjoyed the show a lot." Wooyoung complimented and Yoonseo nodded in agreement, holding her father's hand.

"Thanks, I'm glad you had a good time. These are beautiful." You smiled shyly, holding the bouquet and Yoonseo's flower in your arms.

"Are you hungry? Want some burgers?" Wooyoung chuckled.

"Starving, actually." You giggled. Yoonseo walked between you and Wooyoung as the 3 of you headed back to the car. Wooyoung went to a drive thru so you ate in the car.

"This hits the spot. Barely had time to eat today." You sighed happily as you took a bite of the burger.

"I'm glad. You deserve it after working so hard all day." Wooyoung laughed.

"You alright, baby?" He turned to see Yoonseo happily eating her nuggets. She grinned at him, happy to get nuggets to eat. The two of you looked so similar, blissfully happy with your food.

With how hungry you both were, the food was demolished quickly. But being past her usual bedtime, Yoonseo did fall asleep in the backseat, leaving you and Wooyoung to have hushed conversations. You talked about the most random things.

"Thanks again for coming tonight, Wooyoung." You said.

"Ah, stop thanking me. It was a great show, I really enjoyed it. It was great watching you. You'll have to come for our next concert, okay?" Wooyoung laughed.

"If you'd have me. I would love to see you perform on stage." You said honestly. Wooyoung felt himself get shy now.

"Our concerts are always fun. You'll have a great time there." He promised.

"Thanks for the burgers and for dropping me off. I guess I'll see you next week when Yoonseo has class?" You tilted your head as Wooyoung pulled up to your place.

"Actually, (y/n). Can I take you out for a proper meal some time? As a date." Wooyoung couragiously asked.

"I'd like that. And Wooyoung, even if you wanted to do drive thru in the car again, I'd be more than happy to do that." You giggled.

"As much as I appreciate that and enjoyed it too, we have to go to a proper restaurant. A first date always has to be special. I'll text you and we'll fix a date." Wooyoung smiled. It warmed your heart how seriously Wooyoung took this but you were serious too, you felt happy as long as you were with him.

"Alright. Goodnight, Wooyoung." You got out of the car.

"Goodnight, (y/n). Sleep well." He waved. He watched you disappear into your building and turned back to check on the sleeping Yoonseo before driving back home.

It'll take a while but Wooyoung knew there was no other person he would rather reopen his heart to than you.

Masterlist

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melon-fodder · 3 months ago

Text

HONEY, DON'T FEED ME • T. Hiragi

Summary: The last thing Hiragi wants to do when on the cusp of a rut is watch over his boss' bratty daughter (who he happens to find very attractive). Too bad for him.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: guard dog!Hiragi, human!reader, fem-bodied reader, reader wears a dress and lip gloss, some a/b/o traits (ruts, pheromones, knotting), p in v, rough sex, reader is a bit of a brat, rich girl!reader, attempted assault, crying, mentions of breeding, biting, lil bit of blood, fingering, squirting, p in v, knotting, slight cumflation, Hiragi just goes kinda feral in this

Note: title is from It Will Come Back by Hozier. A big thank you to @lady-lauren for reading this and demanding more despite barely knowing Hiragi. I love you, bb. This is for @goxjo’s into the omegaverse collab. Make sure to check out the whole masterlist!

Hiragi rubs his temples, reminding himself to take even breaths. His irritation grows with each passing second, a growl taking form in his throat until he finally barks out, “hurry up or we’ll be late!”

He can hear movement from the other room, heeled footsteps, the opening and closing of containers. Just as he’s about to march into your bedroom and drag you from your little vanity, you decide to emerge.

“Calm down, I’m ready, geez.”

You bat your eyes at Hiragi as you pass him, an amused smile playing at your shiny lips, and Hiragi has to bite his tongue to keep from calling you a fucking brat.

He has to fight that impulse every day, actually. Because you are a brat. A spoiled, privileged, doe-eyed little—

“What are you just standing there for?” you question with a little too much sass. “You’re the one worried we’re gonna be late. Come on.”

Hiragi is just standing there because he’s trying to gather himself. You may be one of his biggest stressors in life, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t affected by you in other ways, especially on days like these when he could fall into a rut at any given moment. It’s a little past due, if he’s being honest—the general weight on his shoulders has done a good job of keeping it at bay—but Hiragi has noticed that his patience has been thinner than usual the last few days. His senses are heightened, able to pick up on the most subtle scents as his dark ears twitch at every little sound.

Not to mention the persistent dull ache in his balls that he just cannot get rid of.

After this function tonight, once you're back home safe, he’s gonna have to find someone to take this out on, someone he can trust enough to ride it out with him.

Now isn’t the time to think about it, though. It’s unwise to let his mind wander to sex when you’re so close to him, looking much sweeter than you actually are in your little dress and strappy wedges, perfume and pheromones wafting off of your neck and making Hiragi’s mouth water.

Fuck.

All he’s gotta do is deliver you to your father’s dinner, stand watch for a couple hours, and bring you back home. Nothing more, nothing less. He only has to be around you for that completely reasonable amount of time.

Still, Hiragi feels dread settle in the pit of his stomach as he walks with you outside. He goes for one of his boss’ nice cars, keys in hand, but you catch him by his jacket sleeve and tug him in the opposite direction.

“Let’s take your motorcycle!”

“No,” he shuts you down without hesitation. Your father has never explicitly told Hiragi that you aren’t allowed on his bike, but he has told him that Hiragi is to keep you out of harm’s way. It’s sort of his entire job. Having you up against him with a machine rumbling between his legs seems like a very unsafe thing to do.

You pout up at him, cross your arms and whine, “you never let me ride with you!”

“Yeah, ‘cause your dad would fuckin’ skin me.”

“He doesn’t have to know. We’ll leave before he leaves. He won’t even see it in the driveway.”

He’d probably hear it, though.

It isn't actually his employment that Hiragi is worried about. That’s not why he wants to keep you off his bike. The real issue would be having you touching him for the duration of the ride—your arms locked around his torso, your tits heavy and warm against his leather-clad back. There’s no way he’d be able to make the drive without getting hard on the way.

“Please, Ragi?” you ask again, blinking up at him like a neglected puppy as you push your bottom lip out.

Unfortunately, it works, your expression triggering that protective nature inside of him. As maddening as it is, there is a part of Hiragi that’s loyal to you—your father as well, but especially you.

Why else would he put up with you?

“Fine,” he grits out, pulling his other set of keys out.

You grin at him all giddy as two words fall from your glossy lips—a phrase he both loves and hates because of what it does to him.

“Good boy.”

His temper flares at the same time that his cock twitches, and he grumbles incoherently the whole time he adjusts your helmet.

“Little brat.”

“You love me,” you retort, voice muffled by the visor Hiragi purposely pulls down over your aggravating, beautiful face.

As expected, the drive is tortuous. Your hands splay out on his chest, fingers clutching his shirt at every turn. He can feel the spread of your thighs behind him, and if he could shut his eyes to get rid of the mental image he would, but he can’t because he’s driving.

You’re hot pressed against him, or maybe it’s his blood boiling him from the inside out. All he knows is that if you were to move your hands lower on his abdomen, he’d combust. If you were to just slowly palm him through his pants…

Hiragi growls in frustration, accelerating a little too fast and making you squeeze him tighter. Fuck the speed limit; the faster he can get you to your destination, the faster he can get away from you.

The neighborhood that your father’s associate lives in is very nice—a neighborhood that Hiragi would have no business in were it not for you. He's finally able to take a full breath when he pulls to a stop and cuts the engine, but his heart stutters again when you spring off the bike.

Hiragi would be lying if he said he didn’t immediately miss the weight against his back, but it’s best that you don’t touch him. Still, now he has to wrestle with the sight of you as you pull your helmet off and smooth your hair back into place.

Your thighs are on full display, and your tits are literally wrapped in a bow, cleavage teasing him from behind the ribbon of your dress. You’re like a little doll. So pretty. Probably fun to play with despite your pull string that makes you say all kinds of annoying things like, “what the hell are you looking at?”

“Hah?”

“Stop staring,” you laugh as you hand him your helmet. “You’re gonna get dog drool all over your bike.”

“I’m not starin’, and I’m definitely not droolin’!”

Your glossy lips twist into a knowing smirk, and you step closer to him. Way too close. He could pull you onto his knee if he really wanted to which… he does not.

“You don’t have to lie, I know I look nice tonight,” you tell him.

Oddly enough, it doesn’t sound cocky. There’s even a glimmer of sorrow in your eyes as you absentmindedly poke the spikes of Hiragi’s collar. It makes him shiver, makes him reach up and catch your hand because if you don’t quit it, he’s either gonna bite a finger off or cum in his pants. Not sure which.

You squeeze his hand before letting it drop, mumbling, “Father told me to dress up. Look my best. So I put on my cutest bartering chip dress.” Stepping back, you do a little twirl for him and plaster on what he now knows is a fake smile. “So you like it, yeah?”

“I liked it more when I thought you put it on for yourself,” he admits gruffly, never able to control his mouth on nights like this.

It makes sense now why you’re supposed to be here. Your father wants to make a show of his pretty daughter, a strategy Hiragi has seen a couple times before. It had irritated him then too, but what he’s feeling now is different from irritation. There’s a sickness swirling in the pit of his stomach at the idea of his boss offering you up like some kind of business deal that needs to be signed.

“Well, hopefully this guy’s son thinks I put it on for him,” you say, and as you start to walk toward the large house you whisper to yourself, “hopefully he doesn’t make me take it off.”

It wasn’t meant for him to hear, but you should know by now that Hiragi will pick up most things. You’re always teasing him about how sensitive his ears are, so you really shouldn’t be surprised when he tells you, “I’ll tear the fucker limb from limb if he touches you, got it?”

You blink your wide eyes at him a couple times before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

“Oh my god, Ragi, don’t be so dramatic!”

And, just like that, your spoiled brat mask is back in place.

Walking to the entrance, Hiragi smells the other hybrid before he sees her. The front door swings open to reveal what he assumes to be the family dog, just another one of his kind doing what they all do best: protect territory.

She’s tall—not as tall as he is, but she's got several inches on you. Black ears are tipped with white, moving like satellites to catch every sound of your approach. She eyes both of you up and down, but afterward her gaze rests on Hiragi.

“You didn’t have to bring your guard dog, little miss,” she sneers, an ugly sound that she punctuates with a wink in his direction.

“I go where she goes,” Hiragi grunts. Already, the other hybrid is putting out signals, putting out scents. Worse, she’s picking up his. She can smell his wariness, his possessiveness, and by the gleam in her eyes, his impending rut.

“You sure it’s a good idea for you to be in there?” the hybrid asks, holding up a hand of manicured claws to keep him from passing over the threshold behind you. It puts the stranger in a very precarious position.

“You sure it’s a good idea for you to get between me an’ her?” he warns, the hair on the back of his neck rising as she crosses her arms and smirks. It straightens her back, pushing her tits up, and Hiragi picks up on a new aroma, a new interest. The female hybrid seems aroused by his dedication, taking it as a challenge she intends to win.

Maybe she will. She’s not unattractive. After this dinner Hiragi could just drop you off and come right back, ride out his rut with this stranger. She's obviously interested, so why not?

“Hiragi,” your voice rings out, and when he glances back to you, he finds your hand outstretched, finger beckoning. “Come.”

That’s why not.

He nearly shudders at the command, spares the other hybrid a threatening look—don’t try to stop me—then brushes past her to join you inside.

If he were a smarter creature, he would spend the dinner posted outside flirting with the female while keeping an ear out for any danger

But, he’s not, so instead he spends the dinner leaning against a wall, eyes flicking between you and the young man you’ve been seated next to. Apparently, he’s next to take over his father’s business, so it’s “imperative” that he’s here. Your presence isn’t so obvious—at least not to the hosts. You’re here to entertain and seduce, to wrap this boy around your finger so that he’ll convince his father to take the deal.

It’s nauseating. Hiragi watches the way you grin playfully, cover your mouth to keep from giggling loudly or inappropriately. You’re delicate and sweet, docile yet tempting—a glimpse at a perfect little wife.

Hiragi hates it. As much as you annoy him, he’d take your smart mouth and bad attitude over this any day. It may be another costume that you wear, but it’s more genuine than this little show. It’s definitely less filtered.

A hand dips under the table and out of Hiragi’s eyesight. He sees your body tense, smile fading into something tight as a wave of dread rolls off of you and straight into Hiragi. The smell is pungent, mixing with fear and anger and causing his upper lip to curl.

“I know you aren’t baring your teeth at my young master,” the female hybrid says beside him. He hadn’t even noticed her arrival, too distracted by your scent.

“I’ll do more than bare my teeth if he doesn’t get his fuckin’ hand off her.”

“So touchy,” she purrs, moving close enough to brush against him, “they’ll be fine. There’s no need to worry.”

He takes a step away from her, overloaded with the onslaught of aromas—your panic, the kid’s desire, the hybrid’s deceit. She’s trying to distract him, to keep him from watching too closely. It’s not going to work. Hiragi only has eyes for you now.

And then yours land on his. He sees a plea within them, somehow silent and screaming at the same time. Get me out of here, please. Your brow is pinched, your lip is trembling, and your chest is rising and falling too fast, each breath like thunder in Hiragi’s ears.

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologize meekly, slowly standing from the table on shaky legs, “I’m afraid I don’t feel so well.”

You smooth your dress out quickly—so quickly that no one else seems to catch how rumpled it’s gotten, how high it had been pushed up, but Hiragi notices.

Saliva pools in his mouth but not because of you or the sight of your thighs he so desperately wants wrapped around his head. No, it’s the kind of spit that drips from his teeth, that foams and spills and warns people: rabid dog, do not approach.

Hiragi takes a step only to be stopped by the female hybrid. His eyes are still locked on his target and its pulsing jugular—its face twisted into a petulant frown, like a child who just got his toy taken away.

“Don’t you dare,” the female hisses, placing a hand on his chest. Hiragi nearly shoves her away. The only reason he doesn’t is because of you passing him, gripping the leather of his jacket and tugging him along behind you.

Nobody tries to stop the two of you from leaving. In fact, the two older men remain lost in their own conversation, completely oblivious to the massacre that nearly took place right in front of them.

You don’t say anything until you’re standing next to Hiragi’s motorcycle under the dark, evening sky.

“Fucking entitled asshole—thinks I’m on the table right next to the money. Who does that? Who just—”

There are tears shimmering in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, and Hiragi doesn’t think before wiping them away with his thumb. He can smell the salt and disappointment and resentment, considers tasting it but now is not the time. He’s furious, ready to crack skulls and teeth and anything else. There’s so much blood pumping through his veins, hot and hungry for violence—for anything.

“I should fucking kill him,” he says more to himself than to you.

“Don’t bother. He didn’t get far. Barely made it into my panties before I—”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him!”

He turns back to the house, about to take off at a god damn sprint, but goes rigid when he feels your arms wrap around him from behind.

“Don’t,” you mumble, “just take me home. Please?” Hiragi sucks in a breath, diaphragm spasming when your hands grip the fabric over his abs. “Just let me forget about it.”

This shouldn’t be arousing. You were just assaulted, for fuck’s sake. But Hiragi has been riled up for days now, and you’ve just gone and coiled yourself around him, so vulnerable. So needy.

His heart is beating too fast, pumping blood to too many places at once. It pounds in his head, courses through his veins like magma, travels down until his cock starts twitching, and Hiragi just groans.

“We gotta get you home.” It’s right there bubbling beneath his skin, that primal need he can’t suppress no matter how hard he tries. Hiragi peels your arms off of him and grabs your helmet, unable to look at you–your glistening eyes and pouty lips–as he pulls it over your head. The street lights blur on the drive home, each one passing quicker than the last. He should slow down. He should stop taking the curves so fast. But he can barely focus on what’s in front of him when you’re right there behind him. The domesticated part of him is slipping away, and he can’t do anything to stop it. A particularly sharp turn has you squealing behind him, morphing into a high pitched laugh that Hiragi can hear over the roar of the engine. You squeeze him tighter, the heat of your palms going straight to his cock. What he wouldn’t do for a little friction, to be able to rut into something. He’s losing his mind. If he isn’t careful, he’s gonna– “Get off,” he barks as soon as he pulls into the driveway. “What?” “Get off, and get inside,” he commands through his teeth. “Hiragi, what…” you sound a little breathless as you kick a leg over the bike to stand. If he had been watching, maybe he would have gotten a glimpse of your panties, the ones that bastard tried to push aside to get to… He can’t think about it right now. He can’t fall into another fit of rage, and definitely can’t think about anyone touching you. “You’re not gonna go back there, are you?” you ask once you take your helmet off. “I’m fine, I promise! The ride helped. It was actually really fun!” “It’s not that,” he tries, hiding behind the visor of his own helmet, “I just need to… Look, I’m having a bad night.” “Oh,” you tilt your head to the side, “can I help at all?” “No!” You jump at his voice, and he immediately feels bad. “Sorry. It’s not you. I just… need to cool down.” “Do you need some water or something?” God dammit, he needs to leave. He can’t just sit here with this bike rumbling between his legs. He can’t just sit here and stare at you. “It won’t help. I’m…” he pauses, trying to come up with the right words to make you understand that there’s nothing you can do. Nothing you could do without getting hurt. “It’s a hybrid thing.” You blink at him, don’t say a word, just nod and let your eyes wander down his body until they land right where he doesn’t want them. A multitude of swear words clog his mind because you were not supposed to get that. You were not supposed to catch on so quickly. You’re not supposed to be clever, god dammit, you’re supposed to be his boss’ ditzy, bratty daughter. “I see,” you smirk, and Hiragi is helpless as you step closer, slowly reaching for his chin to loosen his helmet straps. “Stop,” he warns, “don’t touch me right now.” The way you push out your bottom lip is so overdramatic, plush and inviting and in clear view once you slide the reinforced plastic over his head. “Why not?” you question, eyes wide with faux innocence. Even teasing, your voice sounds so much more enticing than that hybrid’s. “You don’t want me to?” You trace the skin of his neck just below his leather collar, and Hiragi stifles a groan. He’s burning up, sweat trickling down his spine already.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, and if you keep it up, I will.”

Your eyes light up. There may as well be fucking hearts dancing in them. Hooking a finger into ring of the collar, you tug.

“You don’t know a thing about me if you think that’s gonna scare me.”

Hiragi cuts the engine, steadies the bike, and gets off of it all in one fluid motion. He’s in your space before you can even calculate a threat, hands gripping your biceps as he backs you up toward the huge house behind you.

“Bratty little princess askin’ for shit she doesn’t know a thing about.”

“I know about it,” you challenge, letting him guide you to the front door where he types in the key code. “I know about ruts and… what you’ve got down there.”

He chuckles, kicking the door behind him and pulling you flush against him. You made your decision outside, and there’s no changing your mind now. Doesn’t matter if you get scared or get hurt; he’s not letting you go.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Hiragi spins you around to press his hips forward, grinding his clothed cock against your ass. “You feel it?”

A sweet little gasp parts your lips, and Hiragi quickly closes a hand around your throat to catch the next one that falls when he slides his other hand up the skirt of your dress.

“Not the same as a human cock, you know that?”

You nod in his grip, trying to shove a clumsy hand between your bodies to feel him.

“I know. Still want it.” Your words are strained from the fingers clasped around your neck, a muffled moan vibrating in his hold when he licks the shell of your ear. He could cum in his pants right now, and it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t be enough. Not enough relief and not enough of you.

“Want what, princess? Gotta hear you say it.”

Actually, he doesn’t. Whether or not you want it now is a moot point. He’s too far gone for any protests, so hopefully your body will be able to take what he’s about to give.

A smile splits your face, head turning so that your lips are a hair’s width away from his. You’re quiet but confident when you whisper, “Your knot. I want your knot, Ragi. Want you to stretch me on it and–”

He loses it, hand around your neck tightening to hold you in place while he crushes his mouth against yours. The fingers at your thigh dig into supple flesh, nails tearing your skin just like his teeth tear at your lips. He tastes iron but doesn’t feel bad, just savors it on his tongue while he licks into you.

You’re squirming but not away from him–trying to get closer, grabbing the hand on your leg and moving it inward until he’s cupping your mound over your panties. You whine into his mouth, push your ass against his confined cock like a cat in heat.

Warmth radiates from your core, and Hiragi can feel your arousal seeping into the cotton beneath his fingers as he rubs you through the material.

“My room,” you breathe against his lips, only able to lean in that direction as Hiragi doesn’t let you take so much as a step. You have to break the kiss and use a different tone of voice–that voice, “Hiragi. My room,” before it clicks in his head that this is an order, and he has to obey.

He does, but first he tosses you over his shoulder, mouthing up and down your thigh while walking down the hall to your personal haven.

Your scent envelopes him like a thick fog. It blurs his vision and clogs his throat and makes him want to howl. Hiragi has to fuck you. He might die if he doesn’t.

Dropping you onto your bed, he doesn’t even wait for your body to stop bouncing before he descends on you, slipping out of his jacket, latching onto your neck, pushing your dress up over your panties so that he can tug them off of you. He moves his face to your chest, teeth catching the ribbon squeezing your tits. He tugs at it, ends up ripping it, and revels in the sight of you.

The more time he spends with you, the more the animal inside him gets triggered. Sucking on one perfect, pebbled nipple, all he can think about are these gorgeous tits engorged with milk, feeding hungry mouths, the mouths of pups. God, he’s gonna fuck you so full, watch you swell with his cum and then his spawn. Can’t be some rich boy’s wife if you’re too busy nursing, too busy taking Hiragi’s knot over and over and–

He sucks at the swell of your breast, smooth skin drenched in his spit, and bites. Too hard. Breaks the skin, tastes the blood, then bites down harder.

“Fuck, Ragi!” But your fingers tighten in his hair and your hips buck. The purest form of want pulses from the scent glands you don’t even know about, filling Hiragi’s head, getting him stoned, a single word on repeat in his mind: mate, mate, mate.

All he can do is keep sucking and groaning and whimpering into your flesh. He wants you so bad, wants to feel your cunt wrap around him and milk him. You want him too, right? Wanna take him and be with him and let him breed you?

“Please,” you beg, “please, need to feel you–touch my pussy. Please, Ragi, need it–”

He can’t deny you. You’re his master, and he is a slave to you.

Loud squelches echo in your bedroom as Hiragi plunges two fingers inside of you, your slick cunt sucking them in greedily, clenching around them over and over. As much as he wants to slam his dick into you, he has to prepare you first. Your little pussy wasn’t made to take a knot. Hiragi has to make sure he won’t tear you apart when he gives you his.

You’re bucking into every thrust, legs spread wide, and you finally break the seal of his mouth against your chest to bring his bloody lips to yours.

“One more, baby,” you tell him, “get me ready for you, fuck.” Your jaw drops when he slides that third finger alongside the other two, hitting that sweet spot and fucking into it until you scream and gush into his palm.

“Ohh, good boy, just like that,” you praise, encouraging him to keep going with a pleasing scratch between his ears. He noses down your neck, tongue lolling out of his mouth when you start making sweet little sounds, arousal leaking from your gummy walls and soaking his fingers until he pulls them out to watch you squirt like a fucking geyser.

Sliding down your body, he’s got his face shoved between your legs in record time, making you laugh and squeal as he laps up every drop, doing everything he can to make you cum again– “all over my face, princess, give it to me, mark your territory–” He roughly fucks his fingers into you, pulls his face back to stick out his tongue, then moans when you do exactly as your told and make a mess on him.

Hiragi is humping the bed by the time you’re done. He’s dripping with you, smells you everywhere, barely gets his pants down to his thighs before he’s shoving his sticky cock into your fluttering pussy.

There’s no adjustment period, no waiting for you to get used to him or even take a breath. Hiragi sets a brutal rhythm, head thrown back, hips snapping as he loses himself in the feeling of your perfect fucking cunt. So soft and doughy, smearing slick and cream all over his shaft.

You pull his face down to yours for a harsh kiss. Your lips are swollen, and you’re still bleeding from where he bit you earlier. There are so many filthy smells in the air, the stench of sex layered with wanton pheromones. Your head falls back as Hiragi drives into your g-spot, fluid leaking around his cock.

“Never knew you were such a dirty little thing,” Hiragi pants.

The only response he gets is your jaw clamping down on the soft tissue between his neck and shoulder. Your teeth bruise before piercing flesh, drawing blood and leaving their mark.

“Fuck, gonna make me cum,” he growls. You hum around his skin before lifting your face to show off a red-tinted smile.

“Is’at a bad thing?”

You sound drunk. Drunk off his cock, the way he’s fucking you, just like he’s drunk off the way you’re taking him. Squeezing him. Milking him. His knot starts to swell at the base of his dick, growing wider and rounder so that when he uses it to plug you, nothing will spill out.

“Tell me you want it—want it all… spoiled. little. brat—,” he punctuates the last bit with a few well-aimed thrusts, each one moving your body up on the bed and making your tits bounce.

“Want it all–be my good boy, Ragi. Be a good boy and gimme your knot–...” His thrusts get sloppy but never stop. Gripping your thighs, he spreads your legs even more, watching the way he disappears inside of you. That heat builds in his gut, his balls tightening, and with his eyes locked on your creamy hole, Hiragi starts to bully his knot past stretched skin and straining muscle, pushing and pushing as you cry and moan, unable to settle on if you’re lost in pain or pleasure.

“Almost there, princess, it’s almost in.” If you could see what he’s seeing, how pretty your cunt looks getting stuffed fuller than it’s ever been before. “Fuck, look at you…”

Hiragi slips in the rest of the way because you suck him in, pussy contracting with the first waves of your orgasm. You pull him in so tightly then scream as you cum around his knot, walls fluttering, too stuffed to clench the way it wants to.

The sensation has him plummeting into his own climax, his thick cum only adding to the mess inside you. Line after line, he fills you with it, watching the place just between your hips as it becomes bloated.

“Oh my god. Oh my god–I’m… it’s so much,” you whine, looking down at your swelling tummy with wide eyes. “It’s… God, Ragi, m’so full. Can’t–”

He groans as the last bit of cum paints your cervix. His cock is fucking saturated in it, mixing with your own arousal, the pool of squirt you want to push out so bad but can’t because of how he’s plugging you.

“Gonna have to sit with it, baby,” he tells you, voice gravelly. “Stuck like this until my knot goes down.”

You lick your lips, chest still heaving, and Hiragi is too hot for this, shirt drenched against his back. He pulls it off, jostling the both of you in the process so that you whimper and he moans. You're stretched thin around him, your pretty folds chubby from blood flow, puffy clit slick and begging for attention.

Hiragi smirks as he brings his thumb to it, chuckles when you instinctually pull away but can’t. All you do is tug him forward, bringing him down on top of you. He uses one hand to catch himself, the other still between your legs, and plays with you until you’re cumming again, tears streaming down the sides of your face when he doesn’t stop.

He’s long past domestic, now in a feral state as he licks up your cheek, catching the salt on his tongue. His thumb keeps rubbing circles on your overstimulated bud, and your legs tremble violently, still spread wide to accommodate him.

Your next orgasm pulls his second from him. He shoots another large load into you, abandoning your clit so that he can place his hand on your belly.

“You didn’t know what you were getting into, did you?” he hums, nuzzling into your neck, “didn’t know you were gonna be all swollen with my cum.”

You shake your head, more tears falling, but your words betray any discomfort you might be feeling.

“Want m-more of it,” you sniffle.

Hiragi growls and nips at the skin below your ear, heart full of primal possession and affection as his cock throbs inside of you.

“I’ve got so much more to give you,” he murmurs, kissing the bruise he just left. “I’ll spoil you real good, princess. Promise.”

#hiragi x reader #hiragi toma x reader #hiragi toma smut #wind breaker smut #wind breaker x reader #wbk x reader

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