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junghelioseok · 10 months

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miss taken.

↳ you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ fluff | smut | teacher!au | single parent!au | e2l ◇ 20.3k [1/1]

❛❛ our kids are bitter rivals and the only time we ever meet is when we’re both called to the principal’s office and whatever maybe i think you’re kind of cute but your kid’s a monster and ALSO someone keeps buying the last everything bagel at my favorite coffee shop 2 minutes before i get there in the morning and has heard about my plight and has started leaving me bragging notes about it ❜❜

notes: fic number two in the serendipity series is here at last!!! this took me like a million and a half years to finish because Real Life happened but here we finally are! also, i changed the type of bagel that the story is centered around, because i honestly didn’t come to like everything bagels until relatively recently and i will still only eat it if it’s part of a bagel sandwich because? just having cream cheese or whatever on an everything bagel feels kind of unhinged to me! but that’s neither here nor there and no one is here for my bagel opinions so! hope you enjoy the story!!! 💕

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dilf!jk, some kissing and hand stuff, ✨sexual tension✨ but nothing too terribly explicit tbh

Silence has never sounded louder.

You drum your fingers against the armrest of your chair, nails clacking against the cheap plastic. On the wall, the second hand of the clock completes yet another revolution, and you glance over when your companion sighs, plucks off her reading glasses, and sets them down on the desk beside the placard that houses her title: Principal Pamela Baker, Hybe Academy.

A woman nearing her fifties, Pam has sandy blonde hair cut into a neat bob and an enviable ability to pull off any lipstick color, no matter how bold. You’re lucky enough to call her both a friend and a mentor, and when she mutters a curse under her breath, you chuckle. “Late again,” she huffs, offering you a wry smile before leaning back in her seat and casting her gaze skyward. “Typical.”

“You know what these corporate types are like, Pam,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “They have zero regard for anyone else’s time. He was twenty minutes late to our parent-teacher conference last semester, so don’t take it personally.”

“Believe me, I know plenty of men like Jungkook Jeon,” Pam says with another sigh, this one heavier and longer than the last. “I even married one, you know. But that was before I came to my senses and divorced his ass. Best decision of my life, right after getting my tubes tied.”

“Three kids was enough for you?” you tease, and Pam snorts out a laugh.

“More than enough,” she replies. “What about you, though? Thinking of having another kid anytime soon?”

“I don’t think so… well, not anytime soon, at least. Ask me again in—”

The sound of a doorknob turning stops you in your tracks, and a moment later, the door to the office swings open with a dull click.

“Principal Baker. Miss {L/N}.” Jungkook Jeon is standing at the threshold in a wool coat the color of charcoal, the buttons of which are undone to reveal the undoubtedly designer suit underneath. His dark hair is parted neatly across his forehead, still sprinkled with lingering snowflakes from his journey here, and you bite back the urge to remark on his tardiness. Instead, you stand when your boss stands up, mustering up every ounce of professionalism you possibly can.

“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, giving his hand a firm shake before gesturing to the empty chair beside you. “It’s nice to see you again. Please, take a seat.”

You incline your head in Jungkook’s direction as he lowers himself into the plastic chair, the legs scraping against the tiled floor in protest as he adjusts his position. “Hello, Mr. Jeon. Thank you for finally joining us.”

If Jungkook notices the snarky inflection of your tone, he doesn’t let it show. He merely levels you with a cool gaze, blinking lazily before turning to your boss. “Excuse my tardiness,” he says, smoothing down the lapels of his black jacket and straightening his slate blue tie. “I got here as fast as I could. Where is my daughter?”

Pam gestures toward the door. “Daeun is down the hall in the library, under Mr. Kim’s supervision. I thought it best if we spoke without the children first.”

The dark-haired man hums. “What happened, Principal? You were rather vague on the phone.”

Pam nods, and you exchange looks before she turns her attention back to Jungkook. “Yes, well, as I explained on the phone, there was an incident. Daeun forcefully took her classmate’s book during the free reading period, and refused to return it when asked.”

At that, Jungkook casts you another glance. “I see. And I presume the classmate was Miss {L/N}’s daughter?”

“It was,” you confirm, taking care to keep your tone even despite the irritation simmering in your belly. “This is the second time Trixie’s been targeted by your daughter, Mr. Jeon. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his lips twisting into a displeased frown. “I'm not sure I like what you’re implying, Miss {L/N}.”

The iciness in his voice is unmistakable, but you have fifteen minutes’ worth of annoyance festering in your belly—annoyance that has amplified with every second that he made you wait. That, combined with his behavior last semester is enough to stir that annoyance into full-blown anger. He’s been short with you every time you’ve called to talk about his daughter’s progress in class, and you very nearly canceled his eight o’clock appointment to meet with you during December’s parent-teacher conferences. You remember pulling up his contact information nineteen minutes after eight, thumb hovering over the call button on your phone when he finally burst into your classroom. No preamble, and no apology. He just sat down, as if nothing was amiss, and began asking about Daeun’s grades in math.

It’s no wonder you’ve never heard so much as a word about a Mrs. Jeon. The nosy part of your brain wonders about Jungkook’s home life on occasion, and the more vindictive part relishes in the fact that he’s no doubt a single parent. Any woman would have to be a saint to put up with Jungkook Jeon, you reason, because as far as you’re concerned, he’s the devil.

The devil dressed in head-to-toe Armani, who is currently fixing you with a look that could temper steel.

“Mr. Jeon.” Pam, as always, is quick to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled over her office. “No one is implying anything here. We just want to have a frank, civil discussion about Daeun’s behavior, and see if you can think of anything that may be causing her to act out. A recent change in her life, perhaps? Something new that she hasn’t quite adjusted to yet?”

You take a deep breath, releasing it through your nose before putting your professional mask back on. “Her shift in behavior was extremely sudden,” you chime in, watching out of the corner of your eye as Pam inclines her head in agreement. “Laughing when Trixie and another classmate slipped and fell on the ice, and now this? I don’t believe for a minute that this change came out of nowhere—something must have caused it. Daeun is a smart girl, Mr. Jeon. She’s outgoing and a little rambunctious, but she’s always been kind to her classmates in the past. Today’s behavior was incredibly out of character for her.”

A beat of silence passes, as your words fade into silence. Then Jungkook shifts in his seat, crossing one leg over the other as he turns his full attention to you. “We keep talking about Daeun as if she was the only child involved in this incident, Miss {L/N}. Why don’t we talk about your daughter instead? Trixie, is it?”

And just like that, your mask begins to splinter at the edges. “Trixie was reading quietly at the table when Daeun approached her,” you reply coolly. “She didn’t instigate anything, Mr. Jeon.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to take your word for it?” Jungkook huffs out a humorless chuckle, leaning back in his seat. “I think you, of all people, might be a little bit biased.”

Fury flares in your belly, hot and bright. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon,” you manage between clenched teeth. “I care about all of my students equally, and treat them as such. But I don’t expect you to understand that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but your boss stops him before he can utter a single syllable. “I think that’s enough for today,” Pam says, rising to her feet and stepping around her desk to shake Jungkook’s hand. Even in heels, she only comes up to his chest, and you would have laughed at the height disparity if it weren’t for the rage still bubbling through your veins. “Like I said before, the girls are just down the hall with Mr. Kim. If you’ll follow me…”

Pam ushers Jungkook out of the office, chattering mindlessly about the cafeteria renovations that are underway—funded in large part by Jungkook himself, you’re certain. As much as you’ve grown to dislike the man, you know that he cares deeply about education and donates a rather large sum to your school every year. Trailing after them by a few paces, you listen as Pam points out a row of plaques hanging on the wall, honoring distinguished students and teachers alike.

The library, when you reach it, is empty save for three figures seated at one of several rectangular tables that occupy the middle of the room. Taehyung Kim, the copper-haired librarian, springs out of his seat upon your arrival, and you wave tiredly as he approaches with a warm, affable grin.

“Welcome!” Taehyung says, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses before extending a hand for Jungkook to shake. “You must be Daeun’s dad. I’m Taehyung Kim, the librarian here at Hybe.”

“Jungkook Jeon.” Then Jungkook’s gaze flits past him to where the two children are seated opposite one another. Daeun is a slender, petite girl with dark hair braided neatly down her back and round, brown eyes that are narrowed in concentration as she colors in a picture of a lion. Quietly, Jungkook strides over to his daughter, kneeling down beside her chair until he’s eye-level. “Hey, Daeun,” you hear him murmur. “What happened today, hmm?”

You, meanwhile, join your own daughter at the table, sitting down in the chair Taehyung abandoned and taking in the paper and coloring utensils scattered across the surface “Hey, jitterbug,” you murmur. “Were you nice to Mr. Kim while I was gone?”

“Tae read us a book about butterflies,” Trixie replies, shrugging her little shoulders. “He taught us about migration.”

You chuckle. “Migration, huh? That sounds interesting. You want to tell me all about it on the drive home?”

Trixie nods, her pigtails bobbing in time with the movement. Then she glances over to where Jungkook is instructing Daeun to pack up her backpack, tucking books and notebooks neatly inside while Daeun collects her crayons and puts them into a sparkly little pink case. “Are we going home now?”

“Soon, bug,” you promise. “I just have to finish up with Mr. Jeon and Principal Baker, okay?”

“Okay,” Trixie says agreeably, returning to her drawing. Pam gestures for you to join her and Jungkook near the library doors, and you meet Taehyung’s gaze as you brush past where he’s pulling a few books down for a display. Good luck, he mouths, and you suppress the urge to make a face. Instead, you mouth a quick thanks back, offering Daeun a quick smile as well before joining her father and your boss at the door.

“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, casting a surreptitious glance toward Daeun and Trixie before lowering her voice. “I don’t think you should ignore this behavior from your daughter. If there’s something in her home life that is making her act out, I can recommend a few counselors who would be more than happy to speak with the two of y—”

Jungkook shakes his head, a lock of dark hair coming loose from whatever gel he’s used to style it. “With all due respect, Principal Baker, I don’t appreciate my parenting abilities being called into question. I think it’s probably best if Daeun and I take our leave.”

Pam sighs. “Mr. Jeon, I don’t mean to offend. But Daeun did take a book out of Trixie’s hands.”

“And I’ll be sure to discipline her for that,” Jungkook replies. “But if this is all over a book, Principal, I think the solution is simple. I can easily buy her whatever book she needs.”

“I’m not so sure it’s about the book itself,” you point out. “Tae—I mean, Mr. Kim—has multiple copies of Charlotte’s Web available for the students.”

Jungkook hums and turns up the collar of his wool coat, pulling it snug around his throat. “Nonetheless, I think we’re done here. Daeun, we’re leaving.”

The six-year-old looks up from the book Taehyung has checked out for her and immediately runs over to grab her father’s extended hand. “Are we going home?” she asks quietly, and he nods.

“Yeah, we are, sweetheart. Come on. Say bye to your teachers.”

Obediently, Daeun waves to you and Taehyung before bidding Pam goodbye as well. Jungkook offers you a stiff nod, and Pam resignedly offers to walk the duo out. They depart together, and you watch as they disappear around the corner of the hall before turning to Taehyung with a heavy sigh. Trixie is still engrossed in her coloring, and you lower your voice as you join Taehyung where he’s begun re-shelving books from a cart of returns.

“Thank god that’s finally over,” you murmur.

Taehyung glances both ways, ensuring the coast is clear. “Yeah. That Jungkook guy is a total wang.”

///

By the time you pull out of Hybe Academy’s parking lot, rush hour has well and truly begun. Silently, you curse Jungkook’s tardiness as you merge onto the main road and almost immediately come to a complete standstill amongst the traffic. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, you take in the sight of your daughter, buckled neatly into the backseat with her face pressed against the window.

“What color are we looking for today, bug?”

“Red,” she replies, her nose scrunching against the glass. Every day, your daughter picks a color and counts the number of cars she sees in that particular shade. She’s taken to keeping a running tally on the refrigerator—working toward the answer to a research question that only she understands. Her work is accompanied by a variety of figures and diagrams as well, which she’s plastered across the remainder of the refrigerator door and are slowly encroaching on the freezer door as well. You’re pretty sure she’ll need a larger surface soon enough—the wall of the hallway leading to the bedrooms would probably suffice—but until then, you have no plans to interfere with her creativity. If anything, you sometimes wish you could see the world through a child’s eyes again—to view every new experience as an adventure, and delight in the simple things. It’s one of the many reasons you love working at Hybe, even if you do have to deal with the occasional entitled parent.

Unwillingly, your mind wanders back to Jungkook Jeon. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, even if you’re reluctant to admit it and refuse outright to say it aloud. He’s blessed with the kind of face that angels could rhapsodize about—his dark, expressive eyes set above a strong nose and an enticing mouth. His jawline is sharp as a knife, and you’re fairly certain the devil himself sculpted his thighs. Even beneath the drape of his expensive suits, you can see the definition of his musculature as clearly as if he wasn’t wearing anything at all. You wonder—more often than you’d like to admit—how his workplace hasn’t deemed his suits obscene. Maybe he needs a dress code, you think to yourself, easing off the brake as the cars in front of you begin to inch forward. Baggy clothes only from this point forward. The more skin covered, the better.

“Oooh! Found one!” Trixie exclaims, tapping the glass vigorously. “And look, there’s another. It’s a darker red, though.”

You hum and nod toward the traffic up ahead, where you can glimpse the corner of a cherry red bumper. “What about that one up there? That makes three, right?”

In the mirror, you see your daughter nod. A few minutes pass, the two of you calling out when another red car is spotted, and traffic eventually eases up enough that you can continue your way home.

“So, what did Mr. Kim teach you about butterflies?” you query as you make a right turn. “Something about migration?”

Trixie nods absently, still fixated on the cars driving by in the opposite lane. “Yeah. They go south for the winter to stay warm.”

You glance at her reflection in the mirror again. “Must be nice.”

“Yeah.”

Up ahead, the light turns green. You hit the gas, debating whether to bring up Daeun or not, but your daughter speaks again before you can dwell on it any further.

“It’s weird,” Trixie says, her face still pressed against the window and her breath misting the glass. “Daeun was never mean to me before. We weren’t friends, not really. But now it feels like she’s picking on me on purpose and I don’t know why.”

Something in your chest splinters at the tone of her voice—subdued and small. She’s dragging a finger through the fogged up glass now, tracing the crooked outline of a butterfly, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking again.

“We’ll figure it out together, then, jitterbug. Now, why don’t you start thinking about what you want for dinner?”

///

Mornings are always a little chaotic in your home. Trixie is sprinting around the entirety of the two-bedroom apartment looking for her favorite scrunchie, a half-eaten piece of toast clutched in one hand and her backpack swinging from the other. In the kitchen, you’re going through a mental checklist of all the places your daughter could have possibly left the accessory while sipping on your morning coffee. The mug nearly slips from your hand when your pet cat, Taco, slinks past your legs on her way to her food bowl, and you hiss out a sharp curse.

“Fuck!” Hot liquid dribbles down your knuckles. The calico cat gives you an unimpressed look, and you glance both ways to make sure Trixie is out of earshot before wagging a reprimanding finger. “Manners, Taco. You’re better than this.”

Taco merely flicks her tail and turns back to her own breakfast, rebelliously batting her water bowl with a paw before settling down to eat. Sighing, you finish the remainder of your coffee and rinse out the mug, listening as Trixie darts in and begins rummaging through the silverware drawer.

“Bug, I don’t think your scrunchie’s in there,” you remark, earning yourself a shrug in response.

“Can’t be too careful,” she says in a startlingly accurate impression of you, and you can’t decide whether to laugh out loud or roll your eyes. Coming up empty, your daughter runs off again, and you return your attention to your bag, rifling through the folders and assignments within. “Aha!” you hear in the distance, and smile. Trixie comes bounding down the hall a few seconds later with a sparkly holographic scrunchie in hand, and you obligingly help her wind it around her ponytail as she wriggles in place with excitement.

“Ready to go?” you ask once finished, and she nods eagerly. “Have all your homework?” Another nod. “What about those books you have to return to Mr. Kim at the library?”

Trixie heaves a dramatic sigh and fixes you with a look. “Yes, Mom. Can we go now?”

You chuckle and extend your hand for her to take, heaving your bag onto your opposite shoulder. “All right, all right. Let’s go.”

Locking the front door, you and Trixie take the elevator down to the ground floor of the building and exit out into the wintry air. Your car is parked on a nearby side street, and immediately, you see that the windshield is coated in a light layer of frost. Sighing inwardly, you head toward the trunk where you store the ice scraper. Trixie releases your hand when you pop open the lid, and you turn to watch as she skips her way down the sidewalk. “Sure you don’t want a ride to school?” you call.

She stops, her nose wrinkling. “It’s lame to go to school with your teacher, Mom.”

You feign offense, slapping a hand to your heart. “Oh? I’m lame now, am I?”

“Don’t take it personal,” Trixie replies, shrugging. “All adults are kinda lame.”

With that, she waves and darts the rest of the way down the sidewalk, making her way to the bus stop at the end of the block. You watch her go, waiting until she safely joins the other half-dozen kids clustered on the corner beside the stop sign, before turning back to your car and climbing into the driver’s seat.

There’s something calming about your morning commute—something about the low hum of the engine and the whir of wheels against asphalt that soothes your soul. The route downtown is a familiar one, and you navigate it with ease. A glance at the clock on the dashboard tells you that you have just enough time to grab some breakfast, and at the next intersection, you opt to turn left instead of right. Three minutes later, you’re pulling up to your favorite coffee shop in the city, snagging one of the few remaining parking spaces on the street and braving the chill one more time as you head for the brightly painted front door beneath the cheery sign that reads, Bean There, Done That!.

The smell of warm cinnamon and vanilla washes over you as soon as you step inside the coffee shop. There’s a relatively short line, and you pull out your phone as you join it, scrolling through news articles and notifications until you reach the counter. “Good morning, Bonnie,” you greet the middle-aged woman working the cash register, before waving at the man who’s already brewing a fresh espresso in the corner. “Morning, Jin.”

“Hiya, {Name},” Jin replies. As the owner of the shop and a dear friend of yours, he knows your usual order like the back of his hand. “Got your coffee going right now.”

Bonnie smiles at you, nodding as Jin plops your finished drink down and joins her at the counter. “Morning, hun. You’re too late again, I’m afraid. Can I get you something else?”

You glance over at the glass display case where all the baked goods are housed, disappointment sinking into your stomach when you see the empty row in the bagel section. “No cinnamon streusel? Again?”

“Some guy beat you to the last one,” Jin answers as Bonnie rings up your coffee and slides it across the counter into your waiting hands. “Same one as last week, actually. He comes here pretty regularly.”

Your eyes narrow. “You mean the same jerk has taken my bagel three times now? How is it that I haven’t run into him yet?”

“I dunno—dude’s an early riser, I guess. You missed him by about ten minutes this time, but sometimes he’s in here even earlier than that.” Jin shrugs and jabs a thumb toward the back where you can just barely see the kitchen through a small window. “We’ve got more bagels going right now though, if you can wait five minutes.”

The time on your phone’s screen tells you that you cannot. “Sorry,” you tell him. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for school.” Turning, you nod at Bonnie and drop a few bills into the tip jar. “See you both tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Jin pats down his apron pockets and fishes out a crumpled napkin from within. “I almost forgot. The guy—he left a note.”

“He left… what?” You frown. “Why?”

Awkwardly, Jin clears his throat. “I, uh, may have let it slip that he kept beating you to the last cinnamon streusel bagel on Friday. And then he asked if he could leave you a note, so….” Uncrumpling the napkin, he extends it toward you. “Here.”

You can’t help it—curiosity roots in your belly and winds its way to your fingers as you carefully accept the note and smooth it out on the countertop.

Better luck next time ;)

“That prick.”

Jin winces. “Yeah, I know. I mean, he does always leave a twenty in the tip jar, but yeah, totally. I’m with you. Guy’s a wang.”

You’re barely listening. Scowling, you fumble for the pen in your purse, taking the napkin that Bonnie wordlessly hands you and scribbling out your own note so fiercely you nearly rip through the papery material.

Game on, mister.

///

The rest of the week seems to drag by, until Friday arrives at long last and shepherds with it stormy gray clouds on the horizon. You’re already feeling rather grumpy—no doubt thanks in part to the collection of snarky napkin notes you’ve accumulated over the past few days—and the sun’s absence only serves to exacerbate your foul mood. Even worse, you had an unfortunate run-in with one Mr. Jungkook Jeon yesterday, meeting with him in the principal’s office following an incident where Daeun took and hid Trixie’s favorite holographic scrunchie. Thankfully, it was recovered quickly, but even now the mere thought of Jungkook Jeon’s stupid, condescending face is enough to tank your mood. Scowling, you lock your car and head in the direction of Bean There, Done That!, carefully eyeing every person who exits in an effort to discern whether they might have purchased a cinnamon streusel bagel and hoping that none of them have snagged the last.

You’re running a full forty-five minutes early today—all in an attempt to beat the damned bagel thief. Half an hour hadn’t been enough—you found that out the hard way yesterday, when Bonnie had greeted you with an apologetic smile and Jin had wordlessly doubled the usual shot of espresso in your coffee without charge. Looking back, your initial attempts to be a mere fifteen minutes earlier were feeble at worst and laughable at best. But today, you think, today will be different.

The bell over the door jingles pleasantly when you step inside the coffee shop, and you immediately deflate when Jin catches your eye and shakes his head. He’s there to greet you when you finally reach the front of the line, and you sigh as you accept the folded napkin he hands over. “He beat me? Again? Does this guy not sleep?”

“He was super early today,” Jin replies with a shrug. Groaning, you unfold the note and smooth it out on the counter, sucking in a breath when you read the words scrawled there.

What’s that saying again? Something about the early bird always getting the worm? ;)

“That fucking asshole,” you grit out. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Testy,” Jin says, clicking his tongue. “What’s got your panties in a bunch today?”

You sigh. “School stuff, mostly. I had to meet with the father of one of my students yesterday, and he’s a real piece of work. And then I was up late grading homework.”

“You could always assign less,” Jin offers up unhelpfully, which earns him a snort and an eye-roll from you. Relenting, he instead begins pouring your coffee, chattering on as the hot liquid splashes into your cup. “So, about this guy’s impending doom. How exactly do you plan on murdering a man when you don’t even know what he looks like?”

“Stop being logical,” you groan, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Just then, the coffee shop door flies open, letting in a gust of chilly wind. You turn to see Bonnie bustling inside, wearing a bright pink woolen hat and ushering along her eleven-year old son, Caleb. “Hi, hun,” she greets you, her nose scrunching when she sees your frown. “I take it you still haven’t found your mystery bagel man?”

You heave a sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t think I can get DNA off of his notes, so no. I have no idea who this guy is, which means I have no way of tracking him down and giving him a piece of my mind.”

Bonnie tuts sympathetically and pats your arm. “Sorry, hun.” Giving your elbow an affectionate squeeze, she slips past the counter and into the back room to grab her paycheck. Jin finishes up with your drink, and you thank him as you take a long sip. Then you turn to Bonnie’s son, who’s taken a seat in a nearby booth and is doodling on a piece of scrap paper.

“Hey, Caleb. How’s it going?”

The boy, normally quite talkative, just shrugs. Taken aback, you decide not to press the issue and instead turn back to Jin, who’s wiping down the espresso machine and whistling something that sounds vaguely like “Never Gonna Give You Up” under his breath. Bonnie returns then, and you give her a quizzical glance as she pours herself a to-go cup of coffee and adds two generous pumps of caramel syrup. Is something up with Caleb? you mouth, and watch as confusion flits across her face before realization dawns.

“Don’t worry about him,” she whispers, approaching you so you can hear. “He’s just a little bummed from yesterday. Misspelled ‘serendipity’ in the school spelling bee, and it cost him the win in the end.”

You wince. “Ouch. That hurts.”

“Yeah, that sucks real hard,” Jin chimes in from his spot at the espresso machine. “Little guy didn’t even try to steal a cookie from the display like he normally does.”

Bonnie chuckles. “I’ll grab a couple to-go, then—a double chocolate and a snickerdoodle, if you please. But then we’ve really got to head out. School starts in twenty.”

At the reminder, you pull out your phone and glance at the time. “Yeah, I need to leave soon too. Give my best to Caleb, okay? There’s always next year’s spelling bee.” Turning to Jin, you hand over your credit card to pay for the coffee before grabbing a pen and a napkin. It takes you a few seconds to figure out what you want to write, and then another few to scrawl out the note:

Don’t forget, the tortoise always beats the hare in the end.

Straightening up, you hand the napkin over to Jin, who accepts it wordlessly and tucks it into his pocket. And once he’s handed your card back to you, you wave goodbye to both Jin and Bonnie before heading out.

It’s typically a five-minute drive to Hybe Academy from the coffee shop, but this morning, it takes you almost ten. Every red light in the city has seemingly teamed up in order to make you late, and you make it through the door of your classroom with mere minutes to spare. Thankfully, the first bell hasn’t rung yet, and to your surprise, Taehyung is still lounging in your desk chair when you enter the room. The two of you have a longstanding tradition of having breakfast together in the mornings—even if breakfast just turns out to be two extra-large cups of coffee with anywhere between zero and four shots of espresso added in. Taehyung occasionally brings in some of his kitchen experiments as well, and you’ve had to politely decline his offer to share on more than one occasion.

“Hey, there you are!” Taehyung grins and props his feet up onto your desk, crossing one leg over the other. “I was just about to leave.”

“Really? It looks like you’ve made yourself pretty comfortable,” you reply, dropping your bag onto the floor and collapsing into the chair he’s pulled up beside him. “Must be nice, not having to worry about being on time for first period.”

Taehyung nestles deeper into the back of your chair and lets his eyes drift shut. “Sure is.”

You snort and take a sip of your coffee. “Jerk.”

“I’m rubber, you’re glue,” he replies without missing a beat, his eyes remaining staunchly shut.

Shaking your head, you instead direct your attention to the tupperware container that’s sitting on the desk in front of your friend. You can see what looks like some kind of pastry inside, and prod curiously at it before poking Taehyung in the shoulder. “So, what’s this? Don’t tell me you tried to make croque monsieurs again.”

“Excuse you, those weren’t even that bad,” he defends, his eyes flying open. “And no, I didn’t. I made quiche this time.”

“Right,” you say suspiciously. “And what’s in it?”

“Bacon, cheese, onions,” Taehyung lists with a shrug. “Oh, and a few baby carrots I had on hand. I didn’t really know what else to do with them.”

It’s far from the strangest combination your friend has come up with—a sentiment you voice aloud as you pry open the edge of the container and accept the fork he hands over. “This feels shockingly normal.” Cautiously, you dig into an edge and bring it to eye level so you can examine the filling. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“I’m going to start force feeding you if you don’t stop teasing,” Taehyung threatens, grabbing a fork for himself and helping himself to a generous bite. “Seriously, give it a try—I promise it’s good. I didn’t even drop any eggshells in it this time.”

Laughing, you bring the quiche to your mouth. The pastry is flaky and the filling is smooth, and you’re pleasantly surprised by the harmonious balance of seasonings that you taste. Taehyung watches in satisfaction as you go in for a bigger piece, and pushes the tupperware closer when you nearly drop it.

“Told you it was good,” he says smugly, and you can only nod your agreement and raise your coffee in silent commendation.

The two of you eat in silence for a few moments—until you remember the napkin shoved in your pocket and pull it out with a grimace. You’ve ranted to Taehyung about your new nemesis on more than one occasion by this point, and he doesn’t even blink as he flattens out the material and scans the words scrawled there. “I’ve gotta say, the guy’s got good handwriting,” he remarks, and you immediately fix him with a scowl.

“Really? You’ve got to say that?”

Taehyung holds up his hands innocently. “Just an observation,” he says. “How many of these notes do you even have now? Three?”

“Five,” you grumble. “And I’m still no closer to figuring out who he is. I don’t suppose you have access to a police database or anything, right? Some way to match this guy’s handwriting?”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that,” is Taehyung’s blasé reply. “Besides, it’s not like you’re going to do anything, even if you do figure out who he is. You’ll just keep stewing until something else comes along, so why even bother with the manhunt in the first place?”

You sniff. “I’m raising Trixie to be a strong, determined woman who can accomplish anything she sets her mind to. What kind of example would I be setting if I can’t do this one thing?”

Taehyung doesn’t even bother trying to disguise his snort of laughter. “You’re so full of shit. Jesus Christ.”

The bell rings, then—signaling that students have five minutes to make their way to their classrooms. You sigh, and Taehyung wordlessly stands up and begins gathering his tupperware back into his bag, tucking the cutlery in last and grabbing his remaining coffee as he turns toward the door.

“Catch you later,” he says at the threshold, and you wave him off before brushing a few stray crumbs off your desk. Finishing off the last of your coffee, you pull your planner from your bag and absentmindedly shove the napkin note in its place—putting away any and all thoughts of your bagel nemesis as students slowly begin filtering into your classroom. Trixie briefly catches your eye as she files in with a couple of her friends, and you smile as you rise from your seat and begin outlining the day’s lesson plan on the chalkboard.

There’s no doubt that Fridays are your favorite. Friday afternoons at Hybe Academy are dedicated to the arts, and listening to the soft strains of music coming from the orchestra room and the various solo instruments taking lessons brings you boundless joy. You love seeing the new paintings on the walls the following Monday too, and often stay a while after school lets out on Friday to hang up the pieces produced by your own class.

But this particular Friday—it isn’t going as planned at all.

You’re beginning to think that this morning’s strike from your bagel thief was an omen. Up until two hours ago, it’s just been the usual inconveniences and minor drawbacks—a misplaced pencil here, or a spilled bit of juice there. But now, halfway through the schoolday, you feel like you’re drowning. Your stomach is growling and your hair is in disarray, and it’s all thanks to the fact that you currently have twice the amount of students you normally do occupying your classroom—all of whom are seemingly intent on covering every available surface with splatters of paint.

You can’t blame Miss Kumar, of course. Family emergencies are just that—emergencies. They can’t be predicted or controlled, and when she was called at lunchtime with unexpected news, you understood that she had to leave immediately. In an unfortunate turn of events, none of the Academy’s usual substitute teachers were available, and you soon found yourself haplessly watching on as her first-graders filed into your room with chairs in tow, taking up residence two to a desk alongside your own students.

And even though you’re doing your absolute best to maintain some semblance of order, you know you’ve lost when one of Miss Kumar’s students—Nicholas, you think his name is—upends a little plastic canister of paint onto his desk and splats both hands into it. Blue paint goes flying in every direction, and as he giggles, the other children quickly begin to follow his lead.

“Guys, no, wait—” you try to say, but it’s too late. A fully fledged paint fight has broken out, and you watch in horror as Daeun flings a dollop of yellow paint straight onto Trixie’s Hercules shirt.

If there’s a bright spot in all of this, it’s that Principal Pam Baker works fast. You’d called her mere minutes into the fight breaking out, and she’d done her part by calling the parents of the students you’d named as instigators of the fight. Those who could came in right away, and once you managed to settle everyone down, you brought their kids down to Pam’s office so that she could have a group meeting with both the parents and students alike. The remaining children you took to the library to be watched by Taehyung while you cleaned up your classroom. It’s an absolute disaster zone, and you’ve only just begun spraying down the first desk when the door flies open.

“Most of the children are at the library,” you say without turning around, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bit of red paint on the corner of the desk with a wet wipe. “If you’re looking for your child, you’d best head over there.”

“Actually, I’m here to speak to you,” a familiar voice says, and dread pools in your stomach as you turn and find yourself face-to-face with none other than Jungkook Jeon, his dark eyes unreadable. On his wrist, just barely concealed beneath the sleeve of his charcoal overcoat, you can see his expensive silver watch glinting in the fluorescent light.

“Mr. Jeon,” you manage once you’ve found your voice again. “How can I help you?”

For a few long seconds, Jungkook remains silent. He steps over the threshold and into your classroom, taking in the paint-splattered walls and the chairs scattered haphazardly about. Then his gaze settles on you, his nose wrinkling slightly as he speaks again.

“It smells in here.”

“It’s the paint,” you answer shortly, stepping over an upended cup of brushes and making your way to the window. Fumbling with the lock, you struggle for a few seconds before finally managing to heave it open, letting in a welcome gust of cool wintry air.

Jungkook watches all of this in silence. Then he hums, faint amusement lacing his voice. “I see that.”

Irritation blooms in your belly at his blasé tone. “What did you want to talk about, Mr. Jeon? If you’re looking for Daeun, I’m afraid she’s down the hall in Principal Baker’s office.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Jungkook takes a step forward, the heels of his sleek black oxfords clicking against the tiled floor. “This is the second time you’ve lost control of your classroom, I believe. And tell me, Miss {L/N}, why has my daughter been sent to the principal’s office two days in a row, now?”

You glance up from where you’ve begun wiping at a spot of hot pink paint on the windowsill. “With all due respect, Mr. Jeon, I think that’s a question that only Daeun can answer.”

“Daeun.” There’s outright laughter in Jungkook’s voice now—but it’s the humorless sort that makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. “Right, of course. The blame is always on my daughter, isn’t it? Never any of the others. Never your own.”

For a moment, you can only stare at him. Then, without even fully realizing what you’re doing, you begin walking forward. First one step, and then another—until the tips of your sensible block heels are mere inches from the tips of his oxfords. Emotion is building steadily in your chest—a cocktail of exhaustion and anger topped off with the day’s frustrations—and all of it comes flooding out as you raise your chin and look Jungkook Jeon square in the eye.

“Unlike you, I saw what happened today, Mr. Jeon. Several students were responsible for instigating and perpetuating this fight, and unfortunately, Daeun was one of them. I don’t appreciate you implying that I favor any of my students over others, and I certainly don’t appreciate you questioning my ability as a teacher.” Your chest heaves as you pause to take a breath. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon. Maybe you don’t think so, but I am. I’ve been teaching for nearly a decade, and I’ve spent almost every day with these children for the past year. You don’t get to come in here and disrespect me in my own classroom. I don’t care how much money you give to this school. I’m not beholden to you or your money, and I’ll thank you to not come in here with unnecessary attitude and finger-pointing.”

Your blood is rushing in your ears by the time your speech comes to an end. Jungkook is silent, staring down his nose at you for three long seconds before he deliberately raises a dark eyebrow. “Are you finished?” he asks.

You shiver as his hot breath fans against your cheeks. “No.” And then, in a surge of stupid, adrenaline-fueled bravery, you add, “I kind of want to cuss you out, to be honest.”

The other eyebrow rises to join the first, as a huff of wry laughter escapes his lips. “Oh?”

You deflate slightly, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. It shouldn’t be so easy for a parent to get a rise out of you, but Jungkook seems to do it so easily—and so often. “I’m not going to,” you murmur.

“No?” Jungkook’s gaze darts down to your lips, then up to your eyes, and then down to your lips again. “That’s rather disappointing.”

Unwittingly, you’ve drifted even closer to him since you first started talking. You can see each fleck of amber in his irises, and could probably count each of his individual eyelashes if you so cared. This close to him, you can see that one of his eyebrows is pierced—his dark hair brushed back just enough to reveal the silvery metal embedded in his skin. You don’t pull away though, and neither does he. If anything, he seems to be willing you closer—his lips parting and his tongue darting out to moisten them.

And then he blinks, and you pull back as if burned. “If… if that’s all, I should really get back to cleaning up,” you stammer, hating the wobble in your voice as you return to your desk and grab a fresh wet wipe. “Principal Baker’s office is down the hall on the left.”

“I remember. I was there yesterday, after all.” The faint amusement has returned to his tone. Straightening his tie, he begins making his way to the exit, only to pause in the doorframe and glance at you once more over his shoulder. “Oh, and Miss {L/N}?”

You look up. “Yes?”

“You should really look in a mirror. It looks like a Smurf exploded on your face.”

///

Saturday brings with it clear blue skies and a sweet, sweet reprieve from the chaos of the week. You’d promised Trixie that you would make ratatouille together over the weekend—just like in the movie—and now you’re making good on that promise as you push a shopping cart around the grocery store with your daughter skipping happily by your side. “Ooh! We need these, right?” she exclaims, pointing at a display of zucchini, and you nod, watching as she carefully selects two and plunks them into the cart.

Together, the two of you finish up in the produce section and head for the aisles that house all the baking goods. Trixie peruses the shelves as you stock up on the essentials—flour, sugar, and a couple boxes of baking soda. Then you grab a package of chocolate chips, laughing when Trixie immediately perks up at the sound of the bag crinkling and whirls around to look at you with wide, eager eyes.

“Can we do chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies?” she asks, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

“I think you’re pushing your luck, young lady,” you tell her, but relent when she selflessly offers to bring the extras to class on Monday to share.

Ten minutes later, you’re heading toward the checkout line when you suddenly realize that you’ve forgotten something. “Tomatoes,” you say aloud, glancing down at Trixie apologetically. “Totally slipped my mind. Let’s go grab some, bug.”

Trixie sighs dramatically, but turns toward the produce section nonetheless. Faster than you can blink, she trots off, leaving you to trail after her with the shopping cart. Maneuvering around a particularly tall display of onions, you pull out your phone to check the grocery list one more time—only to be interrupted by the metallic clang of your shopping cart hitting another. Immediately, you open your mouth to apologize, but stop short when your eyes meet the owner of the other cart.

“O-oh,” you stammer, your head spinning as you try to recover your full vocabulary. “Mr. Jeon. I… I didn’t see you there.”

Jungkook chuckles. “That much I gathered.” Then he nods toward Trixie, who you can just barely see two aisles and a crate of watermelons away. “Doing some shopping, Miss {L/N}?”

You don’t respond. Your brain is in overdrive, struggling to reconcile the Jungkook standing in front of you with the one you’d seen just yesterday in your paint-splattered classroom. His dark hair isn’t parted neatly across his forehead for once—instead, it falls in soft waves around his face. Rather reluctantly, your brain acknowledges that he looks good—irritatingly so. You’ve never seen him in casual clothes before—only neatly pressed suits that cost more than your entire paycheck—and the change is jarring to say the least. His purple sweatshirt is baggy and his black joggers are just tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs, and—

—hang on, is he wearing Birkenstocks?

Trixie, thankfully, comes to the rescue as you gape at Jungkook’s feet for several seconds too long. “Is this enough?” she asks, lugging a plastic bag bulging with at least a dozen heirloom tomatoes. Still a little shellshocked, you look down at her, blinking dumbly before bursting into laughter.

“That’s plenty, bug. In fact, we probably need to put some back, unless you want tomatoes in your cookies too.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Trixie says thoughtfully, pursing her lips. “Or we can make marinara and have spaghetti and meatballs tomorrow!”

Jungkook chooses that moment to huff out a laugh of his own. “Spaghetti and meatballs, huh? Great minds must think alike—Daeun suggested the exact same thing for our dinner tonight. Only thing is, we’re apparently making everything by hand, even the spaghetti. And we’ve never made pasta before, so…” He chuckles. “You can imagine how well that’ll probably go.”

You glance around the nearest visible aisles. “Daeun’s a proper little chef, I see. Is she here with you?”

The dark-haired man gestures toward the back of the grocery store. “I tasked her with grabbing some milk and eggs while I get the onions. She won’t go near them until they’re cooked, so I figured this would be most efficient.”

You grin. “Divide and conquer, huh?”

“Exactly,” Jungkook answers with a surprisingly boyish smile. You note with amusement that his front teeth are more prominent than the rest, just enough to give him the resemblance of a rabbit. Rather unfairly, it somehow manages to work in his favor when put together with the rest of him. Your cheeks warm when you register again just how handsome he truly is, and you quickly suck in a deep breath as you search around for a distraction.

You’re in luck. Daeun rounds the corner of a nearby display of cantaloupes with a wide grin, a gallon jug of milk and a carton of eggs in either hand. Her grin widens when she spots you, and you chuckle as she tries and fails to raise her jug-bearing hand to wave.

“Hi, Miss {L/N}!” she exclaims as she comes to a stop alongside Jungkook’s cart and deposits her goods inside. “What’re you doing here?”

“Dae,” Jungkook chides gently, but you laugh and wave him off.

“Hi, Daeun. I’m doing some shopping with Trixie, just like you are with your dad. Speaking of which—you probably have a lot of cooking to get to.” You return your attention to Jungkook. “I mean, I know we do. Somehow, I was talked into making two types of cookies this weekend, so we should really head out and get started.”

“Wait—hang on a second.” Jungkook speaks again, and maybe it’s your imagination but you think you hear a tinge of desperation in his tone. “I’m actually glad we ran into you today. We were going to do this on Monday but since you’re both here, Daeun has something she’d like to say to Trixie. Isn’t that right, Dae?”

Daeun’s gaze drops to where she’s scuffing her sneakered feet against the tiled linoleum floor. Jungkook reaches down, giving her an encouraging nudge, and she hesitates for a second before looking back up and glancing between you and Trixie. “I’m sorry,” she begins shyly. “I shouldn’t’ve thrown paint at you. Or taken your book.” And when Jungkook nudges her again and lifts an eyebrow, she continues again. “And… I’m sorry for laughing when you fell down on the playground. It wasn’t funny, and I wasn’t being nice. I’m really sorry, Trixie.”

There’s a beat of silence, as Daeun falls silent and looks at your daughter hopefully. You glance between the two girls, then up at Jungkook, who still has a hand on Daeun’s shoulder and seems to be holding his breath. Trixie, for her part, looks to be deep in thought, her face scrunched in contemplation as she taps a finger against her lips. Vaguely, you wonder if you should say something, but decide against it.

And then Trixie beams, toothy and bright. Daeun’s answering smile is still tentative, but it transforms into full-blown giggles when your daughter rushes forward and clasps one of her hands in both of her own. “I forgive you,” she says shortly, giving her hand a shake like a little businesswoman. You and Jungkook watch on as the two girls proceed to skip off, hand-in-hand and singing “Baby Shark”.

“Wow,” you remark, turning back to Jungkook. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. What brought that on?”

Jungkook begins to look rather sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck. “I actually have a bit of a confession to make. Not to mention, I owe you a huge apology. I talked to Dae last night, and… well, you were right. She wasn’t acting out for no reason. She… she was actually jealous of Trixie."

You frown. "What?"

He nods. "Yeah. See, I got promoted at my job a while ago. Right after the holidays, I had to start working longer hours, which of course meant less time at home with her. And I guess all of that took its toll, especially since I had to stop taking her to school every morning.” He sighs. “She didn’t adjust very well to that. I tried my best to make things work, but there’s only so much I can do, you know? Eventually I had to set up a morning carpool with some of the neighbors. And I tried to ease the transition as much as I could, but…” He trails off with another sigh. “Guess I did kind of a shit job there.”

Your mind is reeling at all of this new information, but you manage to find your voice again after a few moments. “You did your best,” you tell him, resisting the sudden urge to reach out and touch his arm. “And you’re still trying. That’s all that matters, you know. You’re trying to make things better. Daeun can sense that, and believe me, it’s paying off.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I think you’re giving me too much credit, but thank you. I’m just glad that Dae has a good school and good teachers. Actually, you’ve always been her favorite, did you know that?”

You didn’t. “Really?”

“Really.”

You aren’t sure what to say after that, so you opt to look around instead. At some point—you aren’t sure when—the two of you must’ve started walking around the grocery store again because all around you are shelves full of bread and baked goods. Mindlessly, you grab a bag of everything bagels and smile when Jungkook follows your lead and drops a bag into his own cart.

A few minutes of meandering later, you find Trixie and Daeun together in the snack aisle, deep in discussion about their favorite candies. The conversation winds down as you and Jungkook approach, and you decide not to comment when Trixie not-so-surreptitiously slips a package of chocolate caramels into your shopping cart.

“We should probably get going,” you say instead, pulling out your phone and glancing at the time. “Gosh, there really aren’t enough hours in the day. You ready, bug?”

“Yep!” Trixie replies cheerily, turning to wave goodbye to Daeun and Jungkook. “Bye, Daeun! Bye, Mr. Jeon!”

“See you Monday, Trixie! You too, Miss {L/N}!” Daeun exclaims. And as you and Jungkook exchange smiles and farewells of your own, you feel lighter than you’ve felt in days, as if an invisible weight has lifted.

///

Like clockwork, Monday morning finds you at the counter of Bean There, Done That! with an apologetic Jin offering you your usual coffee in a size larger than the one you’d paid for. “Again?” you exclaim as you accept the cup and take a generous sip. “I can’t believe this. You opened like, twenty minutes ago.”

The corner of Jin’s mouth twitches. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he produces a full tray of cinnamon streusel bagels from somewhere beneath the counter, picking out the best-looking one before sliding the tray into its spot in the display. “I just wanted to see the look on your face,” he admits as he slips the bagel into a paper bag and hands it over. “These are fresh—still pretty warm, in fact. Surprised you didn’t smell them when you came in.”

“I did smell them,” you tell him, wagging a finger. “But the blueberry bagels are always kind of overpowering and this whole place tends to smell like vanilla anyway, so excuse me for taking you for your word when you said you were out.”

“You know, a simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed,” Jin sniffs. Then he gestures to the stack of napkins next to the cash register and waggles his eyebrows. “Care to leave a snarky note of your own?”

A slow grin spreads across your face as you start fishing in your purse for a pen. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

///

The rest of the day goes smoothly, and you’re pretty sure it’s all thanks to the cinnamon streusel bagel you’d had the time to truly savor this morning. You’d even bought an extra for Taehyung, who for his part contributed a tupperware full of bacon strips and a pitcher of mixed berry smoothie to your breakfast. For lunch you’d made sure to eat a healthy dose of vegetables, and as you head into the final period of the day, you feel more than ready to give a room full of children their next big assignment.

“All right, class,” you say as your students filter into the classroom and start taking their seats. “We’ve been learning about the animal kingdom for the last few weeks, and it’s finally time to put everything we’ve learned so far together. I’m going to go around and hand each of you a card. Take a look at it—you’ll either see a picture of an animal, or the name of an animal.” Grabbing the stack of cards off your desk, you begin distributing them, slowly making your way up and down the rows of desks. “Then, I want you to get up out of your seats and find the card that matches yours. If there’s a picture of a zebra on your card, you want to find the person with ‘zebra’ written on their card. And that person will be your partner for this project. Does that make sense to everyone?”

Nods and exclamations of affirmation all around. Satisfied, you hand out the last of your cards and return to your desk, gesturing for your students to stand up and find their partners. You watch as the children mill around, exclaiming happily when they find their match. Much to your satisfaction, you see that Daisy—a little girl who always has her blond hair corralled into a neat braid—and Josiah—a well-mannered boy with a different-colored polo for each day of the week—just so happen to be partners. You hadn’t planned it that way, but you’ve always gotten the feeling that there was a hint of a little crush there.

Another pleasant surprise comes in the form of Daeun, who’s plopped herself in the seat beside Trixie and is animatedly gesturing at her card. Even from your spot in the front of the classroom, you can read the big block letters that spell out “penguin” and see the corresponding line drawing on Trixie’s card. And as the girls begin to chat, it’s as if the issues of the last few months hadn’t happened at all.

Your class spends the last few hours of the school day in the library, working on their newly assigned project. You’ve set up shop at the table nearest Taehyung’s desk, which you’ve always kind of envied. Perfectly round and situated in the center of the room, it allows for a 360-degree view of the entire library if he so much as spins in his chair. “Honestly, I could get so much done if I had one of these,” you lament to him as you watch Josiah sharpen Daisy’s pencil for her out of the corner of your eye. “I’d set up the best frickin’ assembly line you ever saw.”

“You sound like a workaholic,” Taehyung replies, doing yet another lazy revolution in his seat. “Or a lunatic. Same thing, really.”

Resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at him, you settle for rolling your eyes instead. The final bell of the day rings, and you shepherd your students out of the library with your friend on your heels. As the children disperse to their lockers, you trail after Trixie and Daeun, waiting for the two to say their goodbyes so you and your daughter can walk to the car together. It’s still odd seeing the two getting along so well, but you aren’t about to question it as you and Taehyung follow the girls to their lockers—which happen to be in the same section of the hallway—and then out and into the bright afternoon sun. Smiling, you listen to them chattering excitedly about the project even as Taehyung launches into a tirade about his latest rent increase.

“Seriously, I should just move at this point—it’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t even use the conference center, and the indoor pool is just a waste of space when there’s a public one that’s twice the size three blocks away. And that one even has a hot tub! Not to mention—”

You sigh, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Jeez, Tae, just move. You’ve been threatening to for over a year now, and it’s not like anyone’s forcing you to stay. You don’t even like the neighborhood, for god’s sake. I don’t know why you stuck around for that long.”

Taehyung sniffs. “Moving’s just such a hassle, you know? I really wanted to avoid it, but I guess I can’t this time around. A 22% rent increase… fucking hell. You’ll help me pack, won’t you?”

“I’d rather not.”

“But you’re so good at packing! And you have all that bubble wrap and the box of styrofoam peanuts hoarded in your closet—”

“Stored in my closet.”

“Whatever,” he says dismissively, waving you off. “I’m not here to debate semantics with you.”

“No, you’re here to guilt me into helping you move,” you reply. “What’s up with that, anyway? I thought you swore off of renting U-Hauls for good after last time. You were googling moving companies and getting quotes for weeks.”

“Yeah, I definitely lost that spreadsheet,” Taehyung admits. “Besides, money’s a little tight right now. Every last bit of spare change we have is going toward Jimin’s new pilates studio. We’re saving wherever and whenever we can.”

You nod in understanding at the mention of his fiancé and his new business venture. “How’s all that going, anyhow? I know Jimin’s been super busy—we haven’t been to bar trivia in weeks.”

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing,” Taehyung says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Starting a business is hard—who knew?”

“Who knew, indeed,” you echo. You’re about to say something else, too, but any semblance of coherence flies out of your head when you glance at the girls again and see that they’ve come to a stop. There’s a sleek black Mercedes-Benz idling at the curb, and leaning against it is none other than Jungkook Jeon—dressed in a sharp navy blue ensemble with his hair slicked back and dark sunglasses perched on his nose. It’s impossible to tell whether he’s seen you yet, and it’s all you can do to tear your gaze away before you get caught staring. Turning back instead to Taehyung, you raise a hand in farewell. “Well, it looks like this is my stop.”

“Seems that way,” your friend hums, casting a curious glance at Trixie, who’s enthusiastically greeted Jungkook with a Hi again, Mr. Jeon! and is now giggling with Daeun about how they can see their reflections in his car. “See you tomorrow. Don’t get into too much trouble!”

You roll your eyes at the flagrant wink Taehyung sends your way, surreptitiously flipping him off from behind your tote bag. Then you make your way over to your daughter, who’s still engrossed in conversation. Coming to a stop behind her, you lay a hand on her shoulder, smiling as she looks up and flashes you a big grin. “All righty. You ready to go home, jitterbug?” you ask.

Trixie juts her bottom lip out into a pout. “Can I go to Daeun’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at Jungkook, who’s now scrolling through his phone. Then you return your gaze to your daughter, taking in her eager, bright eyes. “I don’t know, bug. Have you asked Mr. Jeon if you can come over?”

Daeun pipes up then, her pigtails bobbing with every word. “He says it’s okay, Miss {L/N}! Since we have a project to work on and all. He even said we can order takeout for dinner!”

Again, you look at Jungkook. His expression is unreadable behind his sunglasses, but when he feels your gaze he glances up, tucking his phone back into his pocket and pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “Dae’s right—I did promise the girls takeout. Sorry to catch you off guard with last-minute plans like this, Miss {L/N}. If you’d like, you’re welcome to join us as well.”

You blink. To say that the invitation has caught you off guard would be a massive understatement, and as your brain races to catch up, you suddenly realize that he’s willing to let you come to his home. You would be in his space—where he lives, eats, sleeps. The thought is simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

“I—I don’t want to impose,” you finally manage after what feels like an eternity. “I’m sure you’re busy, and I have a lot of homework to grade, and…” You trail off, hesitant, and Jungkook waits a beat before chiming in.

“No imposition at all,” he says, offering you a small smile. “Honest. I’ve spent two of the last three weekends hosting sleepovers for Daeun’s friends, and I’m not convinced I remember what adult company is like anymore.” Then his smile widens—just enough to offer a glimpse of his endearingly prominent front teeth and crinkle the corners of his eyes. “Remind me?”

You aren’t sure if you’re imagining the flirtatious edge in his tone, but you push the thought to the very back of your head and straighten the hem of your blouse before grasping for the phone tucked in your bag. “I… I suppose that would be all right,” you begin hesitantly as you pretend to check for new notifications. “You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”

“None at all,” Jungkook reassures. “Here, I’ll give you my address for your GPS, but it might be easier if you just follow me. Where are you parked?”

You gesture toward the staff parking lot, which is usually separated from the main lot by a row of neatly manicured hydrangea bushes that bloom in bursts of pink and blue and purple during the spring and summer months. Right now, there are only a few sparse yellow daffodils, pushing up through the dirt and signaling that spring is not far off despite the lingering chill in the air. “I’m about three rows in. I can drive over and meet you here, if that works?”

Trixie chooses that moment to pipe up, instinctively raising her hand like she’s still in class. “Can I ride with Daeun and Mr. Jeon?”

You hesitate, glancing over at Jungkook, who shrugs as if to say fine by me. Turning your attention back to your daughter, you nod and reach down to adjust the glittery pink scrunchie in her hair. “Be good,” you order. “Don’t distract Mr. Jeon while he’s driving, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Trixie hums, already turning toward the sleek black Benz and tugging on the door handle. “See you there, Mom!”

You wave, watching as the girls climb into the backseat before turning and making your way to your own car. Unlocking the door, you slide into the driver’s seat and take a deep breath. Then, you take another. And a few moments later, you take a third.

Even as you mentally play back the events of the afternoon, you still can’t wrap your head around how it came to this. Here you are, about to drive to Jungkook Jeon’s house. You’ve seen his address in your files, and you know from the street name that he lives downtown, in the part of the city that’s dominated by high-rise buildings and five-star hotels. It’s an area that you don’t visit often, having no reason to unless there’s a particular restaurant that you’re looking to try out—and have the money for. It feels odd inputting his address into your phone’s navigation app, but you do so nonetheless, watching as it calculates the optimal route.

Steeling yourself, you start up the ignition and ease up on the brake. As you pull out of your parking space, you crane your head to see if Jungkook’s car is still where you’d last seen it, which it thankfully is. Slowly, you make your way over to where the Benz is idling, pulling up alongside him and giving him a little wave. Jungkook has donned his sunglasses again, but he lowers them when he sees you and nods in acknowledgment. Ready to go? he mouths, and you nod even though it’s a lie. You aren’t ready. You aren’t sure you ever will be. But Jungkook is already pulling ahead and out of the parking lot, and you’re forced to push aside your intrusive thoughts and follow.

The first stretch of the drive is easy. Jungkook is a measured driver, and you can tell that he’s taking care to turn only when there’s enough room for both of your vehicles. The second stretch, however, proves far more difficult. Now that you’re downtown, there’s an abundance of one-way streets and pedestrians. Traffic lights sit on seemingly every corner, alternating between red, yellow, and green at random, as far as you can tell. You nearly lose Jungkook twice on particularly short green lights, and only narrowly avoid hitting an overeager dog dragging its hapless owner into the crosswalk before the walk sign has changed.

The third time, it finally happens. Dismayed, you watch as Jungkook’s sleek black Benz cruises past a green light, just before it turns yellow for a split second and then flips to red. You’re forced to brake far faster than you’d prefer—way too fast to be safe, for sure—and watch as Jungkook disappears around the Starbucks on the next corner. Muttering out a quiet curse, you drum your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as you wait for the light to change again. Thankfully, you’re only about two minutes from your destination.

After what feels like an eternity, the light finally turns green. Releasing your foot on the brake, you take the turn that Jungkook had taken, glancing between your phone and the surrounding buildings to identify your destination. There’s a string of restaurants, a pharmacy, and a post office. You cruise past a dentist’s office and a few dry cleaners, and then your phone is directing you to turn right onto a street that boasts a long row of glass-fronted office buildings.

Two blocks later, you’re pulling up to a tall, sleek chrome building. The first floor is occupied by a seafood restaurant and the second and third seem to be a gym, but as you crane your head upward you can see that the floors above that seem to be condominiums. Letting your head fall back against the headrest, you glance down at your phone one more time, confirming that this is indeed your destination. Then you take a long, deep breath before you begin following the little blue signs that claim to lead to a parking garage beneath the building.

To your relief, the garage itself isn’t difficult to find. You take a ticket from the machine as you descend down the concrete ramp, keeping an eye out for any open spots that are designated as guest parking. Seconds pass, and then minutes. Your heart flutters nervously in your chest as you descend deeper into the parking garage, seeking a break in the rows of cars that never comes. You’re seconds away from giving up and turning around, when finally, you see an open spot. It’s a little cramped and it’s right next to a concrete pillar that’s just a little too close for comfort, but you manage to squeeze into the space. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, you turn off the ignition and tuck your keys into your purse, taking a moment to gather yourself before exiting your car and locking it behind you.

That’s when you encounter your next obstacle: figuring out how, exactly, to get out of the parking garage. You can’t find a single sign to guide your way—only a locked dark green door that you assume is some kind of mechanical room. Groaning, you spin in a full circle, taking in your concrete surroundings. Maybe if you just start walking, you’ll find a sign that will point you to the elevators. You’d even consider taking the stairs at this point, no matter how many floors down you are (you’re pretty sure it’s seven or eight).

Just then, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see Jungkook Jeon (Daeun’s Dad) emblazoned across the screen and immediately swipe to answer. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, obvious relief coloring his tone. “I’m sorry I lost you back there. Where are you now?”

“I’m in the parking garage below your building,” you reply, idly scuffing your foot along the concrete floor. “I’m parked pretty far down, and now I can’t seem to figure out how to get upstairs.”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’ll admit the signage isn’t great down there. Let me see… can you see any doors?”

“Just this green one, but it’s locked.” Reaching out, you try the handle again to double-check. “Other than that, nothing.”

Another hum from the man on the other end of the line. “Okay, walk away from that door. Try and head toward the middle of the garage—that’s where the elevators are. There’s four of them, and they’re in this big concrete circle. Can you see them yet?”

“Maybe?” You can see a break in the rows of cars up ahead, and a rounded concrete wall in the distance. Speeding up, you make your way around the edge and blink as a bank of elevators comes into view. “Oh, wait—yeah! Huh. Weird. I didn’t expect the doors to be orange.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Each floor’s color-coordinated, yeah. Orange means you’re near the bottom, though. Didn’t you see the guest parking on the first floor?”

You blink. “No, I don’t think so. Did I miss something?”

That draws another chuckle from him. “Probably. There’s a row of spaces off to the right as soon as you enter the garage, but it can be pretty easy to miss if you don’t know to look for it. I should’ve given you a heads-up.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him as you enter the elevator and hit the button for the thirty-fourth floor. “I could’ve asked.”

Bidding him farewell and assuring that you’ll see him soon, you hang up and tuck your phone back into your pocket. The elevator ride is relatively short despite how high you’re going, and before you know it you find yourself standing in front of a navy blue door with a polished brass knocker. Raising your hand, you’re about to knock when the door flies open, revealing Daeun and Trixie standing there with identical grins.

“You’re finally here!” your daughter exclaims, bounding forward to take you by the hand and lead you inside. “Mr. Jeon said we had to wait for you to get here. He says he’s gonna give us a grand tour!”

“It’s really not as exciting as they’re making it sound.” Jungkook’s voice comes from around the corner, and the man himself steps into view a moment later. He’s taken off his jacket and removed his tie, leaving him in navy slacks and a crisp white shirt with the first few buttons undone. Your gaze lingers a little too long on this newly exposed sliver of chest, but you forcibly tear your gaze away when Trixie gives your hand a squeeze.

“Come on, Mom! You can see everything from the window. It’s like you’re on top of a mountain!”

Laughing, you follow your daughter deeper into the apartment. She points to the closet off the foyer, where you obligingly hang up your coat next to her periwinkle one. Then she leads you to the far end of the foyer, where it opens into a wide hallway. On the other side of the hall is an archway that leads to a spacious kitchen with white cabinets and polished granite countertops. You take note of the bright yellow bar stools at the kitchen island, chuckling when Daeun loudly declares that she picked them out—and that Jungkook had caved to her despite wanting boring gray ones instead.

As you continue your tour, it becomes abundantly clear that Jungkook has caved to his daughter on multiple occasions. The furniture in the living area is neutral—shades of beige and dark wood that pair well with the polished floorboards and modern floor-to-ceiling windows. But scattered throughout the space are pops of color and quirkiness that you can confidently attribute to Daeun—having graded several of the art pieces that you now see hanging on the wall and adorning the sleek glass coffee table. There’s the lopsided clay vase painted with streaks of hot pink and specks of bright yellow, and there’s the papier-mâché snowman with his jaunty orange hat. You see more and more of Daeun’s influence everywhere you look—the watercolor butterfly paintings on the wall, and the red floral accent chair that you’re sure Jungkook didn’t pick out himself.

“That’s Daddy’s room,” Daeun says, pointing to a nondescript white door beside the bookshelves that flank the flatscreen TV hanging on the wall. Then she points down the hall, past the kitchen where you can see a few more doors. “And that’s my room down there, next to Daddy’s office. Do you want to see?”

You nod. “I can’t wait. Lead the way.”

Cheerfully, Daeun gestures for you to follow after her as she skips toward the door at the very end of the hall. She opens it with a flourish, allowing all of you inside, and as soon as you step past the threshold you’re transported to a fantastical world. Daeun’s bedroom walls are painted to resemble an enchanted forest, complete with delicate fairy lights wrapped around the wooden four-poster bed. A white desk and an accompanying green chair sit in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, the pale pink curtains opened to let sunlight stream in. Along the sill is a collection of stuffed animals, ranging from a tiny butterfly to an elephant that you’re pretty sure is taller than Daeun herself. Opposite the bed is a gallery wall, composed of colorful floral prints and Daeun’s own art—a charming, eclectic mix of animal paintings and landscapes. It’s the kind of bedroom that you would’ve loved as a child, and your daughter is equally taken with it if her awed expression is anything to go by.

“This is so cool!” Trixie runs to the window to peer out at the city below, before twirling in a circle to take in the art on the walls. “I can’t believe you live here. It’s like a magic forest!”

“It’s a beautiful room,” you remark, nodding your agreement. “And all of these drawings are amazing, Daeun. You’re a talented artist.”

Daeun flushes at the compliment, thanking you with a shy smile. Then she and Trixie are off again, speeding down the hallway to look at something else in the apartment. You and Jungkook trail after them slowly, until he opens another door off the hall to reveal his office. It’s smaller than Daeun’s bedroom and far more simplistic in its decor, but it’s a cozy and inviting space nonetheless. One wall is lined with mahogany bookshelves, and a polished wooden desk is pushed against the opposite. A plush burgundy armchair with a matching ottoman sits in the corner beside a tall potted plant, creating the perfect space for reading, and you can tell from the indentation in the seat cushion that it’s been well-loved over the years.

“I’ve definitely been bringing my work home too much lately,” Jungkook admits. “I’ve been cutting back though. Ever since Daeun’s behavioral problems…” He trails off. “Well, you know all about that already. And I do want to apologize for giving you a hard time. It’s just… I guess it’s not all that fun being told that you’re failing as a parent.”

“You’re not failing as a parent,” you reply, laying a hand on his arm before you can think to stop yourself. “You’re doing your best. It’s all we can do, isn’t it? Do everything we possibly can for our children?”

He nods, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s looking down at your hand on his arm, and you blanch inwardly as you quickly pull back and pretend to brush invisible dirt off your skirt. “We should go find the girls,” you murmur. And just like that, the tour is over.

The two of you rejoin the girls in the kitchen, where they’ve begun assembling themselves a snack of peanut butter and crackers. Jungkook slices up an apple and a banana for them to share, and they barely take the time to thank him before disappearing into Daeun’s bedroom to work on their project. You and Jungkook find yourselves alone in the kitchen, and when the silence between you has stretched on for just long enough to be awkward, you decide to speak. “So. I guess I should probably grade some homework while I’m here.”

Jungkook blinks and shakes his head a little, as if coming out of a trance. “Right, of course. I’ve got a few things I need to wrap up myself. Please, make yourself comfortable. You’re free to work in the office, if you’d like.”

Immediately, you shake your head. “Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude.”

He nods, then gestures out toward the dining table, which sits in a little nook between the main living area and kitchen. “Well then, feel free to make use of the table. Or the kitchen island. Or even the couch, if you’d prefer.” He pauses. “Wait, where are my manners? I haven’t even offered you anything to drink! Did you want anything?”

“Oh.” You hesitate. “I’m okay.”

Jungkook begins making his way to the refrigerator, regardless. “Seriously, it’s no trouble. I have coffee, tea, banana milk, and I think there’s probably a carton of apple juice in here too. What do you usually drink when you’re grading?”

“Tea,” you admit. “Any kind. I’m not picky.”

“Tea it is.” Jungkook sets about grabbing two mugs. “Go on, make yourself comfortable. I’ll bring it to you.”

For a moment, you wonder if you should ask if he needs help. But he’s already preoccupied with the kettle, his back to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his broad shoulders taper into his slim waist. In an attempt to distract yourself from gawking, you walk back out to the dining table. Pulling out a chair, you settle your bag on the floor beside you and take a seat. And by the time Jungkook comes out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs of tea, you’re already halfway through grading the first math worksheet in your pile.

“Here you go.” Jungkook places a mug by your elbow, and you glance up at him with a grateful smile.

“Thanks.” “No problem.”

To your surprise, he takes his mug to the opposite side of the table and sets it down. Then he disappears into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with his laptop in hand. You try not to stare as he sets up shop across from you, a loose lock of dark hair flopping across his forehead as he logs in and begins reading something, his dark eyes flitting across the screen. His piercing in his eyebrow glints in the sunlight streaming in through the nearby window.

Ripping your gaze away, you force yourself to focus on the homework you need to grade. And after a few minutes, you’re fully immersed, thumbing through sheet after sheet and writing down your notes.

Before you even realize it, two hours have passed. You only become aware of how late it’s getting when Jungkook shuts his laptop with a click, stretching his arms overhead and working a few kinks out of his neck. “It’s almost dinnertime,” he remarks, glancing out the window where the sun is steadily dropping closer to the horizon. “Did you have any thoughts about dinner? I can order some pizza or something.”

“Oh, I don’t think—” you begin to protest, but Daeun and Trixie choose that moment to dash in like mini tornadoes, whirling around the dining table.

“We can still order takeout for dinner, right Daddy?” Daeun gazes up at Jungkook with pleading eyes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “And Trixie and Miss {L/N} can stay if we do, right?”

Trixie looks at you, lower lip already beginning to jut out in a pout. “Please, Mom?”

Jungkook gives you a meaningful glance across the table, and you can only shrug and relent. “Yeah, all right. Since takeout was already promised, we can stay for dinner. But we’re going home after that, okay? It’s a school night.”

The girls burst into cheers. After a brief discussion on what kind of food to order, you all settle on Jungkook’s initial suggestion of pizza. As he puts in the order, you begin tidying up the dining table, clearing it of your graded homework. Daeun points out where the plates are kept, and together, you and the girls set the table for dinner.

“Estimated delivery time is half an hour,” Jungkook says as he tucks his phone back into his pocket and joins you at the dining table. “What should we do while we wait?”

“Let’s play Candyland!” Daeun exclaims.

Trixie gasps. “I love Candyland!”

And just like that, it’s settled. The four of you settle around the coffee table for the game—you and Jungkook making yourselves comfortable on the cream-colored sectional while the girls sprawl out on the shaggy rug on the floor. The pizza arrives just as Trixie reaches Candy Castle, and Jungkook goes to answer the door while she celebrates her victory. Then, the four of you sit down for dinner.

It’s strange, sitting in Jungkook’s undoubtedly expensive apartment and eating pizza. But even more strange is how okay it all feels—natural, even. You aren’t sure when you became so comfortable in his presence, but you aren’t about to question it. You’re grateful for the lack of awkwardness.

An hour later, the last slice of pizza is finished. You volunteer to do the dishes, and Jungkook clears the table while you take up residence at the sink. You’ve tasked Trixie with gathering up her things so you can depart after you’ve finished in the kitchen, and can hear her giggling off in the distance with Daeun. “Thanks for hosting us today,” you murmur to Jungkook.

He chuckles, waving off your gratitude. “It’s no problem, seriously. I had a good time.”

You smile at him before returning to the dishes. Just as you’re putting away the last plate, the girls run back into the kitchen—Trixie with her backpack in tow.

“Can Daeun come to our house next time?” she asks, and you laugh.

“Sure, jitterbug. You’re welcome to come over whenever you’d like, Daeun.”

And with that, you and Trixie say your final goodbyes. You slip back into your shoes and grab your coats from the closet. Jungkook gives you directions for the easiest route out of the parking garage, and you thank him for what feels like the umpteenth time.

You’re barely listening to your daughter’s ramblings as you climb into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition. All you can think about is Jungkook and this strange, newfound warmth that stirs in your belly whenever he seeps into your thoughts.

///

“You wiped that part of the counter already.”

Trixie’s voice barely registers in your mind, but the washcloth in your hand slows nonetheless. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning with hardly a cloud in the sky, and Jungkook and Daeun are due to arrive any minute. You’ve been cleaning for the past hour, and even though you know you’ve already gone through the kitchen, you can’t help yourself. This is the first time Jungkook will be seeing your humble abode, and you—ostensibly—want to impress.

“Bug, can you set the table?”

Trixie sighs dramatically, but complies nonetheless. Grabbing four plates, she places them down carefully before returning for four glasses. You join her at the table with a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, straightening out one of the striped blue placemats as you set it down beside the vase of flowers that serves as a centerpiece.

You’ve just started frying bacon when the doorbell rings. “Got it!” Trixie calls, darting to the door, and you listen as she enthusiastically greets your guests. A few seconds later, Jungkook rounds the corner with both girls, decked out in jeans and a gray cable-knit sweather and carrying a plain white cardboard box in his hands.

Curiously, you tilt your head. “Mysterious box you’ve got there.”

He laughs. “Hello to you too.” Then he puts the box down and pops open the lid. “I brought my favorite bagels—I hope that’s okay. Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

You smile at him. “Of course it’s okay. I was just planning on making some toast, but bagels are way be…” You trail off as the bagels in question come into your view.

Perfectly golden, with a dusting of cinnamon sugar and streusel crumbles on top. You’d recognize them anywhere.

“{Name}?” Jungkook sounds concerned. “Are you all right?”

You blink and shake your head, mind still whirring. “Are these from that coffee shop downtown? Bean There, Done That?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, have you been?”

You nod. “This… this might sound crazy and I might be way off base. But do you stop there every morning for a bagel?”

Jungkook blinks. Then he blinks again, his lips parting wordlessly. A beat passes, and then another. “Wait,” he finally manages, his voice a croak. “Hang on. Is it… I mean, it can’t be… can it?”

You reach into the drawer next to the stovetop and pull out a wad of pen-stained napkins. “Did you leave me these?”

For a few seconds, it seems like Jungkook can only gape at you. “Holy shit,” he finally breathes, before slapping a hand to his mouth with wide eyes and glancing around to make sure the girls aren’t within earshot. “I was leaving you notes this whole time?”

You can only laugh in disbelief. “You were the one taking my cinnamon streusel bagels?”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have taken them if you’d gotten there earlier,” he teases. Chuckling, he picks up a napkin note and uncrumples it, scanning across the text. “Damn. Small world, huh?”

“The smallest,” you agree, mind reeling from this new development. Still chuckling, Jungkook steps past you to get to the stove, and you belatedly remember that the bacon is still sizzling in the pan as he picks up your tongs and carefully flips each strip.

“I kept your notes too,” he says after a moment. “I shoved both of them in my glovebox.”

You huff. “Both. Yeah, okay, you beat me to the last bagel way more than I beat you. You don’t have to rub it in, Jungkook.”

“Oh, come on.” He grins, toothy and bright, and you’re momentarily distracted by the endearing prominence of his teeth. “I think I have to rub it in a little.”

“Hmph. As long as it’s only a little,” you concede as you join him at the stove with another pan and begin scrambling eggs. Together, the two of you finish making breakfast, piling eggs onto one plate and bacon on another. You grab the bowl of fruit salad you’d prepared last night out of the fridge, and Jungkook grabs the box of bagels and calls for Daeun and Trixie to come eat. Then, he surprises you by sitting beside you, leaving the girls to sit next to each other on the opposite side of the table.

Breakfast is a relaxed affair—even if Taco keeps trying to jump up on the table to steal some bacon. You’ve eaten several meals with Jungkook and Daeun since that first dinner—usually at Jungkook’s apartment, but also once at the food court in your local natural history museum, where you took the girls to see the ocean exhibit’s penguin display. Since this is the final weekend before their group project is due on Monday, you’ve promised to take them to the zoo to see real, live penguins and complete the last of their research. Both girls already have their backpacks packed and ready to go, and you task Jungkook with checking to make sure they have all their notes while you clean up in the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, you’re on your way to the zoo. Jungkook has volunteered to drive, and you can’t help but gape a little as he unlocks his sleek black Mercedes-Benz and opens up the passenger door to reveal cream-colored leather seats and shiny silver hardware. “Wow,” you remark, catching his eye as he walks around to the driver’s side. “This is like the Batmobile or something.”

“Hardly,” he says with a laugh. “I wish I had rocket boosters and ejection seats. That’d be cool as hell.”

“Daddy!” Daeun gasps, scandalized. “That’s a bad word!”

Jungkook has the decency to look properly abashed. “I’ll put a dollar in the swear jar when we get home,” he promises before pretending to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key. Satisfied, Daeun clambers into the backseat with Trixie on her heels, and Jungkook shoots you a conspiratorial little wink as he takes his own seat and starts up the engine.

The drive to the zoo takes only about fifteen minutes. It’s already beginning to get crowded by the time you get there, but Jungkook still manages to find parking with little difficulty. Together, the two of you usher your daughters out of the car, reminding them not to run too far ahead when they immediately make a beeline for the entrance.

After a short wait in line to buy tickets, you finally make your way past the lion statues flanking the front gate. The wide concrete pathway leads to an open plaza where people are milling about—some looking at the directory located at the far end while others rely on the colorful signpost in the center, reading through the various directional arrows before heading off to their destination. Along the edges of the plaza are a multitude of stalls—selling everything from footlong hot dogs to stuffed animals to cotton candy. There’s a couple of artists painting faces, too, and Daeun only has to give Jungkook one wide-eyed, pleading look before he caves and pulls out his wallet. Aghast, you try to protest, but he waves you off and sends them both off with some cash in hand.

“Consider it payment for all the bagels I’ve deprived you of,” he says, and you relent with a laugh.

Slowly, the two of you make your way around the plaza, making sure to keep a watchful eye on the girls at all times. Half an hour later, Trixie and Daeun come skipping back your way, their faces bright with colorful paint. Daeun has an intricate pink and blue butterfly, while Trixie has opted for the distinctive orange and black stripes of a tiger.

“Do you like it?” she asks, and you nod, bopping her fondly on her painted black nose.

“I don’t just like it, jitterbug. I love it.”

Pleased, she rejoins Daeun, who has successfully diverted Jungkook to the cotton candy stand. Following after her, you hand the vendor your credit card to pay for both snacks before Jungkook can get a word in edgewise. Reluctantly, he tucks his wallet away, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

Once the girls have had their fill of the main plaza, the four of you head off in the direction of the penguin exhibit, stopping to look at the zebras and giraffes along the way. Photographs are snapped, and Trixie even flags down a nearby couple and asks them to take a photo of all four of you together. The girls jostle into place in front of the giraffe enclosure, and you suddenly find yourself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook, the warmth of his body radiating off of him like the sun in the sky. Your resulting smile feels forced—especially when the girl starts taking multiple photos from different angles—but gradually relaxes. And now, even as you enter the penguin exhibit, you can’t stop sneaking glances at the last photo.

Because in it, you and Jungkook look like couple. You’re standing close enough that anyone who saw it would construe it as a family photo, the two of you beaming with your giggling daughters in front of you, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders.

Swallowing, you let your phone screen go dark and tuck it back into your pocket. You’re coming up on the penguin exhibit now, and the girls can barely contain their excitement as they run ahead to the outermost edge of the enclosure where a massive glass wall allows for a clear view of the penguins swimming about underwater.

“They’re so fast!” Trixie exclaims. She stops at one of the numerous placards lining the glass wall, her little face scrunching as she slowly reads it out loud to Daeun. “It says here some can swim over twenty miles an hour!”

As the girls pull out their notebooks and begin taking notes, you and Jungkook find an unoccupied bench near a rocky outcrop occupied by several bronze penguin statues. “Look,” Jungkook says, patting one of the upright penguins. “You can see how many people have rubbed this little guy’s head. It’s turned gold.”

“Must be good luck,” you remark, running a finger along the golden beak of another penguin. “Or maybe I should make a wish? I don’t really know what this situation calls for.”

“I’m pretty sure you make wishes when you throw a coin into a fountain,” your companion replies, brushing a dark strand of hair off his forehead. “Actually, I think I saw a fountain back there. Should we check it out later?”

“I don’t think I have any change on me,” you reply, peeking into your purse to make sure. “Seriously, who even carries coins anymore?”

“Not me,” Jungkook agrees. “I do usually have at least a little cash on me, though. It’s nice to have sometimes.”

“Mm, yeah. You never know when you’ll need it.”

Just then, Trixie and Daeun run up, gesturing toward the brown building at the very back of the enclosure. “There’s a penguin movie playing over there!” Daeun says. “Can we go see it?”

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “How long is it?”

“I think it runs every twenty minutes,” you reply when Daeun frowns and scratches her head. “Come on. If I’m remembering correctly, we should be able to see more penguins inside too.”

Daeun and Trixie beam. “Cool!” they exclaim in unison, before galloping off and leaving you and Jungkook to follow after them as quickly as you can manage without breaking into a run yourselves.

Your memory proves correct, as you enter the brown building and immediately see that the walls inside are glass as well. A penguin dives off of a rocky island and into the clear blue water, and you watch as it goes all the way to the bottom of the pool before coming back up for air.

After doing a lap of the building, Daeun and Trixie decide to go into the theater to see the fifteen-minute short film. Meanwhile, you and Jungkook find a quiet little alcove near the entrance, chatting softly while watching the penguins behind the glass on the opposite wall.

“I haven’t been to the zoo in ages,” Jungkook admits. “Dae’s mom used to always take her, though. They always came back with a stuffed animal from the gift shop—you might’ve seen them in Daeun’s room, actually. She loves them.”

You nod. “I remember, yeah. It’s quite an impressive collection.” Then you hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip as you consider your next words and debate whether you’re being too nosy. “Daeun’s mom… can I ask what happened between you?” You pause, then quickly speak again. “And feel free to say no, obviously! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m probably just poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Jungkook smiles at you, but there’s a faraway quality to his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Nah, it’s okay. There’s really not much to tell, if I’m honest. Evelyn and I, we started dating when we were nineteen. We got married at twenty-three, had Daeun a couple years later, and then one day we realized that we’d become entirely different people and that we weren’t really in love anymore.”

“Oh.” You aren’t sure what else to say. “I-I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs and sighs, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “No need to be sorry; it was a mutual thing. Totally amicable. We’re still friends, and we’re a pretty kickass co-parenting team too.”

The conversation continues, and you find out that Evelyn’s job took her overseas last year. According to Jungkook, she currently lives with her new boyfriend, who’s a little pretentious but completely harmless. And despite the six-hour time difference, Evelyn still finds the time to FaceTime Jungkook and Daeun every Sunday afternoon. Because of those calls, she’s apparently heard all about you, too—you’re her favorite teacher, remember? he’d said with a laugh.

“What about you, then?” Jungkook glances over at you inquiringly, his eyebrows raised. “Is it my turn to pry?”

You can tell from the melodious lilt in his tone that he’s teasing. “My story’s far less interesting than yours,” you answer, fiddling with a stray thread on your jacket sleeve. “I don’t have an ex-partner or anything like that. I’ve just always wanted to be a mother, so one day I decided that I was going to do it. I used a donor, got pregnant, and here we are.”

Jungkook takes this in slowly, nodding. “Do you… I mean, do you know who your donor is? Have you met him?”

You shake your head. “No, it was an anonymous thing. I got a profile and some information about his appearance and hobbies and stuff, but not much beyond that.”

“I—” Jungkook begins, before trailing off. “I’m sorry. I’m asking too many questions. I don’t know a whole lot about the sperm donor thing, but I’m glad it worked out for you. Trixie’s an amazing kid.”

“She is,” you murmur. “I love her more than anything.”

“And you’re an amazing mom.” Jungkook’s voice grows softer, and when you turn to look at him, he seems closer than he was before. “I don’t know how you manage it all, teaching and parenting. But you do, and it’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

You aren’t sure who leans in first. All you know is that one moment, you’re staring into Jungkook’s earnest brown eyes, and then in the next, you’re kissing him.

It starts soft. Cautious, even. His lips press against yours gently, once, before he pulls back for a breath. You can feel him exhale, the warmth fanning your cheeks. And then you pull him back in by his collar, fisting one hand in the knit material and finding the soft hair at his nape with the other.

Time slows to a standstill. Jungkook groans against your lips, and you feel the way it rumbles through his chest, the sensation sinking into your skin and settling straight in your core. His hands find your hips, and you wind both arms around his neck to pull him closer.

And then, just as suddenly as it had stopped, time starts ticking again. Reality crashes down around you in the form of familiar, boisterous voices rapidly heading your way. You and Jungkook only barely manage to untangle yourselves before Trixie and Daeun round the corner of the alcove, chattering excitedly about all the new penguin facts they’ve learned.

“Can we go to the petting zoo next?” Trixie asks, seemingly oblivious to your lingering embarrassment at nearly being caught.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat. At your side, Jungkook is faring no better, shuffling his feet and refusing to make eye contact. “Yeah, sure, bug,” you finally manage when you find your voice again. “Lead the way.”

///

Monday dawns cloudy and gray. The weather app on your phone promises thunderstorms later in the afternoon, but that isn’t enough to dampen your mood one bit. Instead, you thumb back over to your messages, your heart skipping a beat when you see the text still sitting at the very top.

[6:54am] Jungkook Jeon: Make sure to stop by bean there, done that before school. Left you a surprise ;)

Taking a deep breath, you type out a response:

[6:56am] You: I’m a little scared. Should I be scared?

His answer comes in immediately. Nah. It’s a good surprise, I promise.

[6:58am] You: Sure it is… 🤨

Biting back a grin, you tuck your phone into your bag and head toward the front door of your apartment, nearly tripping over Taco along the way, who has chosen that moment to start slinking between your legs.

“Really, Taco?” you ask the unperturbed calico cat at your feet. “What if I fell and cracked my head open? Who would feed you then, huh?”

As usual, Taco merely gives you an unimpressed look before flicking her tail and wandering off. Sighing, you call for Trixie to hurry up before turning to check your appearance in the mirror leaning against the wall of the entryway. It’s a large, vintage piece—a gold-framed, flea market find that you treasure dearly and swear makes you look good no matter how awful you might feel.

Satisfied, you hike your bag higher on your shoulder and smooth down the lapels of your coat. Trixie rounds the corner and gives herself a quick once-over too, and you give her a thumbs-up. “Ready, bug?”

“Yup!” she replies, tightening her grip on her and Daeun’s project—a carefully constructed shoebox diorama that shows a group of penguins in their natural icy habitat.

“Let’s go, then.” Opening the front door, you let her through before locking it up behind you. Together, you head out to the car, and Trixie ensures that her diorama is completely secured in the seat beside her while you check your mirrors and turn on the ignition.

The drive to Bean There, Done That! takes only about ten minutes. Jin waves cheerily when he spots you walking up to the counter, but his face positively lights up when he sees Trixie is with you. He absolutely adores your daughter—Trixie loves him too—and on the occasional instance you’ve had to call on him to babysit, the two of them always end up stuffed with food on the couch and giggling over bad puns.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” Jin asks, directing the question at Trixie, who beams at him before turning to look at you with pleading eyes.

“Can I have a double chocolate cookie?”

“That… actually sounds really good,” you admit. “Make that two. And Jin, did someone leave something here for me earlier?”

Jin grins. “Thought you’d never ask. This here is from one Mr. Jungkook Jeon.” Reaching beneath the counter, he pulls out a box and watches as you open the lid to reveal half a dozen cinnamon streusel bagels with a neatly folded napkin on top. Unfolding it, you can only laugh at the words written on it:

Hope you have a mug-nificient day!

“Just so you know, he stole that line from me,” Jin says with a sniff. “I’m not letting him take the credit.”

“Duly noted,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide your smile as you look down at the note again. After a couple beats, Jin clears his throat, and you glance up to see that he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Sooo,” he begins slowly, dragging out the single syllable, “I imagine you want a fresh napkin and a pen, unless… are you going to see Mr. Jungkook Jeon at some point?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance as best you can. “Trixie was paired with his daughter for a school project, so we’ve been meeting up for the past few weeks so they can work on it. Now that that’s over with… I don’t really know. We’re both pretty busy.”

Jin scoffs. “That’s a lame excuse, especially since he’s clearly flirting with you. And—”

Unfortunately, Trixie interrupts before he can finish his sentence, skipping back over from where she had been examining the pastry display cases along the wall. “Can I have a lemon bar?”

You fix her with a stern look. “You already asked for the double chocolate cookie, remember? The lemon bars can wait until next time.” Then you turn back to Jin, reaching into your bag for your wallet. “We should probably get to school, anyhow. What do I owe you?”

“Not a thing,” he replies, handing over a paper bag with your cookies and a bottle of apple juice. “It’s already been taken care of.”

From the wink he sends your way, you know that it must have been Jungkook who doled out the extra cash for your breakfast. “Thanks, Jin,” you reply, handing Trixie the cookies and juice before accepting the cup of coffee he hands over. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Pleasure doing business with ya,” is his response. Trixie waves goodbye, and together, the two of you head back out to the car. It’s started drizzling since you arrived, and you thank your lucky stars that you’d managed to snag a parking spot right up front.

Your daughter seems to be deep in thought as you help her buckle her seatbelt, her lips pursed in concentration. Then, out of nowhere, she asks:

“Do you like Mr. Jeon?”

You nearly choke. “W-what?”

“Mr. Jeon,” she repeats patiently, and you’re thankful that she’s not looking at you—instead, she’s focused on the raindrops splashing against the window and racing each other down the glass. “You spent a bunch of time with him when Daeun and I were doing school stuff. What’d you do?”

“Adult stuff,” you reply, before cursing inwardly at the potential implication behind your words. “Mostly, I spent my time grading homework. And he had some things to do for work, too.”

Trixie hums, apparently satisfied with this answer. “He’s nice,” she declares. “He buys us food and he has a cool house.”

“Sure,” you agree. “He’s a very nice man.”

And with that settled, you finish buckling her in her seat. Shutting the back door, you suck in a deep, calming breath before circling around to the driver’s side and setting off on the familiar route to Hybe Academy.

///

“... Miss {L/N}, are you listening?”

You blink and sit up a little straighter in your chair. “Yes, of course. Please go on.” Hastily, you scribble down a few random words, hoping that will placate the parent sitting across from you. It’s parent-teacher conference week—and you’re beyond grateful that it’s Friday night as Mrs. Greene rambles on and on about how the school isn’t doing enough for her precious baby boy. She’s talking about how the school day should be extended now—or at least how teachers should watch after the children whose parents can’t pick them up right at three-thirty. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult to understand. I mean, my husband is a very busy man, and I have my own business to run. I can’t be expected to drop everything in the middle of a client meeting to come pick Derrick up…

It takes everything in you not to snap at her. You know for a fact that her “business” is selling bejeweled keychains on Etsy—and that they’re incredibly poorly made, if the reviews are anything to go by. Instead, you bite your tongue—hard enough to taste metal—and remind her that the school’s operating hours are not for you to decide.

After what feels like an eternity, the clock strikes seven, marking the end of her reserved time block. Standing up, you shake her hand and wish her a pleasant evening before opening your planner and checking to see if you have any more meetings. Your parents have Trixie for the night and there’s a bottle of wine on your kitchen counter calling your name, and you cannot wait to get home and relax in the bath with a glass. Maybe, you think, I’ll even do a face mask.

The final name written in your planner stops you in your tracks. You haven’t seen him in over a week—not since that Monday when he left you half a dozen bagels at the coffee shop. The girls had insisted on meeting up that evening to celebrate turning their project in, so you’d all gone to a popular taco joint.

And then there’s a knock on your door, the three raps pulling you right out of your musings.

Silhouetted there in the doorframe is Jungkook Jeon, decked out in a polished charcoal suit and wearing a smile that makes your insides lurch dangerously in your chest. His dark hair is parted on the side, and you catch the slightest glimpse of his brow piercing glinting behind the hair that’s loose across his forehead. “Hi,” he says, his voice low, and you have to remind yourself that it’s impolite to stare as you find your voice.

“Hi yourself.”

He grins, baring the adorably prominent front teeth that you hate to admit you’ve grown rather fond of. “You look like you weren’t expecting me.”

“Oh, no. I just wasn’t expecting you on time,” you retort, gesturing to the plastic chair sitting across from your desk. “Your track record is questionable, at best.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Yeah, sorry about that. I made sure to leave plenty early this time, just in case I ran into traffic. Or if Bobby decided to corner me in the elevator again—that guy really doesn’t know when to shut up.” He pauses. “Wait, I told you about him, right? Works on the development team, owns one singular tie? Balding but tries to hide it with a bad combover?”

“That rings a bell,” you reply. “The tie is red and Christmas-themed, right?”

“Sure is.” Jungkook chuckles. “I thought they might’ve been polka dots the first time I met him, but nope. Christmas ornaments, even in the middle of July.”

You laugh. “Odd fashion choice.”

“Seriously. Don’t even get me started on the rest of his clothes,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “Here, let’s change the subject. Have you eaten yet?”

You gesture around your classroom, artificially lit with fluorescent light even as the sun begins to dip closer to the horizon. “Nope. I mean, I had about twenty minutes between the end of the school day and the start of my first meeting, so I scarfed down an apple in the break room. But that was hours ago.”

“Perfect.” At your look of disbelief, he chortles and quickly amends his phrasing. “Sorry, I just mean that I’ve got you covered. Here, look.” And he begins pulling things out of a paper bag that you hadn’t noticed him carrying before. Crackers, sliced baguette, an assortment of cured meats and cheeses, grapes. He produces a bottle of wine next, and you very nearly start clapping.

The last thing he pulls out is a single red rose, his smile soft and warm and dizzyingly affectionate as he presents it to you. “I—wow.” You aren’t sure what to say. “Thank you. I… I feel like I should’ve prepared something. Stolen an apple for you from the teacher’s lounge, at least.”

Jungkook snorts. “Well, here’s something you can help me out with. I don’t actually have glasses for the wine. Totally spaced and forgot that we’d need them. Any ideas?”

You’re on your feet before he can even finish asking. “I teach elementary schoolers, Mr. Jeon. I always have cups.”

Making your way to the cabinet by the window, you grab a box of little paper cups and pull out two. Jungkook accepts them when you hand them over, and you watch as he unscrews the cap on the wine bottle before pouring out two generous helpings. Together, you lay out the food he’s brought, spreading it across whatever empty space there is on your desk. “Cheers,” Jungkook says once you’ve both taken your seats again, raising his paper cup to tap against yours.

“Cheers.”

For a moment, there is silence as you both take a drink. Then Jungkook speaks, glancing up at you as he carefully begins crafting himself a mini salami and cheese sandwich. “So, where does Trixie stay while you’re doing all these meetings? Do your parents have her?”

You nod, taking another much-needed sip of wine. “Yeah, my mom picked her up after school. They actually have her until Sunday—my dad’s going to teach her how to fish tomorrow, and then I think they’re going to build a pillow fort.”

Jungkook chuckles around a mouthful of gouda. “I love a good pillow fort. Dae insists on building one at least once a week, and at this point, I’m honestly surprised there isn’t one permanently in her bedroom.”

Grinning, you reach for a cracker and some cheese. “Taco manages to destroy every pillow fort Trixie and I try to make. She either decides it’s a trampoline, or that it’s a good time to start scratching everything she can reach. We can’t win.”

“Sounds like you need better defenses,” Jungkook replies, waggling his eyebrows. “That, or you can come over whenever you need a pillow fort fix. I’m sure Dae and Trixie would create something truly epic together. I mean, that penguin diorama was pretty fucking cool, wasn’t it?”

“Very fucking cool,” you agree, and both of you burst into laughter.

Deep blue twilight settles outside as the two of you continue chatting over your makeshift meal. The cheese begins to dwindle, only a few lonely grapes remain on their stems, and when you go to top of your wine, you realize there’s less than a quarter of the bottle left.

“Wow, we really put a dent in this thing,” you remark, holding it out for Jungkook to see. “And it’s already dark out. The time kind of got away from us, huh?”

“You won’t catch me complaining,” Jungkook replies, tipping the last of his drink into his mouth. “I’m enjoying spending time with you.”

You can’t help but smile at his earnest honesty. “Me too.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then you rise from your seat. At the same time, Jungkook stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk, making his way around to meet you halfway. And then his mouth is on yours, warm and firm in a way that makes your heart do a backflip before plunking straight into your churning stomach.

Jungkook’s hands find your hips, palming along the flowy material of your dress before finding a resting place just above the soft curve of your rear. Your fingers delve into the soft hair at his nape to tug him closer, and he groans against your lips when your nails rake across his scalp. Slowly, he begins trailing kisses from the line of your jaw down to the column of your neck, pausing to lavish attention on any spots that make you gasp or squirm in his grasp.

The growing hardness against your lower belly is growing more and more evident with each passing second. Deliberately, you slide one hand down his chest, admiring the toned ridges of his abdomen that you can feel through his white shirt, before making your way down past his silver belt buckle. Jungkook inhales sharply when you cup his hardening cock through the charcoal material of his slacks, and, emboldened, you thumb across the head and relish in his resulting groan.

Any caution you may have had is thrown to the wind. Adjusting your grip, you shiver when you realize that he’s now fully hard beneath your fingertips, his erection thick and hot through the fabric. You try and visualize what it looks like underneath it all—the color of the flared head, the veins that run along it, the curve of the shaft, if there is one. And then you realize that you don’t have to imagine—you can look. You can rip his clothes off and explore every inch of his body in the way you’ve been itching to since you first kissed at the zoo last week. Your hands scrabble for his belt buckle, fumbling with the silver prong embedded in its notch.

“W-wait.” Jungkook’s hand lands over yours, and you note the breathlessness in his voice with satisfaction. “I… this is probably cheesy, but this isn’t how I pictured this happening. Not that I don’t like what’s happening, but I just… I’d like to take you out first. On a proper date, I mean. Without our girls in the next room, or down the hall, or in the museum playplace wreaking havoc.”

“That does sound nice,” you admit. “Actually, I’d really enjoy that. I haven’t been on a proper date in years.”

“Let’s do it, then,” Jungkook says. “My babysitter’s already been paid to watch Daeun until midnight, and your parents have Trixie. This is kinda perfect.”

You can’t help it—you drag your thumb across the head of his still-hard cock again and revel in the way his breath hitches just a little bit in his throat. “Midnight?” you query with an innocent tilt of your head. “Were you expecting something to happen tonight?”

“Hoping,” he replies with a cheeky grin. “And wait, let me ask you out properly. It just wouldn’t feel right otherwise.”

Confused, you let him stand from his seat and slip around you to retrieve the paper bag on the ground. Understanding dawns when he reaches inside and grabs a napkin, and you watch on in amusement as he takes a pen from the cup on your desk and begins writing. And after a few seconds, he wordlessly presents this to you:

Drinks? Dinner? Maybe dessert? ;)

And you can only laugh. “Game on, mister.”

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts #bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic #jeon jungkook #kpop scenarios #single parent au #teacher au #single parent!au #teacher!au #lia writes

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edenesth · 8 months

Text

One Day at a Time

Pairing: kindergarten teacher!Seonghwa x fem!reader

AU: single parent au

Word Count: 15.4k

Summary: Seonghwa, a dedicated kindergarten teacher, had sworn off dating to focus on his job, but everything changes when he meets you, the aunt of one of his students. As you navigate the challenges of parenthood together, a deep connection blossoms. What happens when he finds himself falling in love despite his resolve to stay single?

A/N: Inspired by that episode of ATEEZ on Ch'i'ld Cloud and that time when Seonghwa mentioned how he'd be a kindergarten teacher had he not been an idol.

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"Dude, you need to get yourself a girlfriend if you love kids this much." Joy quipped with a grin.

She glanced at Seonghwa as they both stood at the kindergarten entrance. She couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him, knowing how dedicated he was to his job. She went on about her blissful relationship with her long-term boyfriend, her eyes shining with love and contentment.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, as he helped one of the kids put on their tiny shoes. His heart was full from a day spent with these precious little ones, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

"Worry about yourself, Joy," He retorted playfully, "I have the kids here to keep me busy; I don't need to have my own."

The children, sensing it was time to go home, were excitedly rushing off into the waiting arms of their parents. Seonghwa watched them, his own heart warming as he knew he played a part in their day.

As most of the children had left, he noticed one of the students from his class still seated by the bench near the entrance. Little Eunji, her big brown eyes brimming with anticipation, watched with a pout as her friends left one by one with their parents. Concerned, he crouched down beside her, "Eunji? Are your parents not here yet?"

Just as she was about to respond, her eyes lit up with joy, and a radiant smile spread across her face.

"Eunji-yah, I'm here!"

You called out, your voice filled with warmth, and you appeared at the entrance. The child squealed in delight and darted into your arms, wrapping herself around you. You, on the other hand, looked exhausted as you huffed tiredly, "Sorry, I'm late, sweetheart. I came as fast as I could from work."

The child shook her tiny head, nuzzling even closer to you, clearly relieved to have you there. The teacher watched the touching reunion, his heart swelling with tenderness as he observed the connection between you both.

When you finally stood up properly and turned to Seonghwa to thank him for his hard work, he felt his breath momentarily knocked out of his chest by how breathtaking you looked.

"Oh, you must be Mr. Park, Eunji's class teacher," You said warmly, extending your hand to him, "Listen, thank you so much for always watching after her. I apologise for constantly being late. I promise I'll try to come earlier."

He was at a loss for words, completely captivated by your presence. He stammered, "N-no problem at all, really. It's just my job." He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, and it was only when Eunji tugged at his pants that he snapped out of his trance.

"Thank you, Teacher Hwa! Bye-bye!" The child chimed in, her adorable voice breaking his momentary stupor.

Seonghwa smiled, finally regaining his composure.

"Oh, right! No worries at all. I'm always ready to take care of all the kids. Have a safe trip home, you two!" He waved as you and Eunji walked away, hand in hand.

He continued to watch as you left, his gaze lingering on your retreating figures. There was an undeniable attraction and a curiosity he couldn't ignore.

No, Park Seonghwa, this is wrong.

He battled with his own internal conflict, constantly reminding himself that his attraction toward you was inappropriate.

After all, you were the mother of one of his students. It was his duty to ensure the well-being of the children in his class, and allowing these feelings to grow was risky.

As he observed you during each drop-off and pick-up, he couldn't help wondering about your personal life. Your exhaustion was evident, and he speculated about where your husband might be. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps you were divorced, widowed, or going through some other personal hardship.

But he knew that these were sensitive topics, and he didn't want to pry or make you uncomfortable.

He was torn between his genuine concern for your well-being and his internal struggle to contain his growing attraction. He knew he had to find a way to balance his feelings and responsibilities, and he was determined to do so in a way that was respectful and considerate of your feelings as well.

Other than that, he found himself in a moral dilemma.

He understood that, as a teacher, it was his responsibility to treat all the children equally and not play favourites. But ever since he met you, it became increasingly challenging not to pay extra attention to Eunji. He was acutely aware of how tired you were, raising her on your own, and he felt a sense of responsibility to be even more attentive to the child for your sake.

Besides, it was hard not to notice that Eunji was one of the sweetest and most well-mannered kids he's ever taught. She displayed a level of consideration and maturity far beyond her age.

He truly admired your parenting skills, as it was evident that your love and care have moulded Eunji into such a wonderful and well-behaved child. He admired the kind of mother you were to the child, and it only deepened his attraction to you.

One day during lunch while they watched over the kids, Joy playfully nudged him on the shoulder, "Is it just me, or have you been playing favourites lately? I see you've grown a liking to little Eunji. I mean, I can't blame you; she's literally a sweetheart. But dude, I thought you were more professional than that."

Seonghwa froze in his tracks, realising that he hadn't been as subtle as he thought.

Joy's comment hit close to home, making him acutely aware of the unspoken truth. He had grown closer to Eunji, and it was impossible to deny that it was because of the connection he felt with you, the child's dedicated and loving guardian.

He contemplated whether he should talk to his closest colleague about the undeniable attraction he felt for you. He was torn between wanting to confide in someone and the fear of making things even more complicated. The feeling was eating him up inside, and he knew he needed to address it somehow.

Joy noticed the genuine conflict in his expression, which was far deeper than she initially expected. Concerned, she straightened up, "Dude, I was just playing with you, man. You good?"

He chewed anxiously on his bottom lip before he hesitantly began, "Eunji's mother... she's a remarkable woman, isn't she?"

Joy's expression turned solemn at the mention of the child's parent, "Indeed, she was," The past tense in her response caught Seonghwa's attention, and he furrowed his brow, puzzled, "That's weird, why would you say it like that?"

She scratched her head, genuinely perplexed, "What do you mean?"

He placed his hands on his hips and stared at her, unamused, "You literally said 'was' instead of 'is,' like she's dead or something."

At this revelation, Joy blinked in surprise, "Umm, maybe because she is dead? I thought you knew, that's why you're bringing her up."

Seonghwa shot up from his seat immediately, his eyes wide with shock, "W-what do you mean?! I just saw her drop Eunji off this morning!"

That's when his colleague slapped a palm over her forehead, realising the mix-up, "Bruh, that's not Eunji's mother! That's her aunt, you doofus!"

He sat back down in his seat, his mind racing to process the new information. He felt a mix of embarrassment, surprise, and curiosity, "Wait, what? That's her... aunt?" He croaked, finally comprehending the revelation that upended his assumptions. He's been mistaken all along, wrongly assuming that you were Eunji's mother.

As he replayed all the interactions he's had with you, the pieces of the puzzle started to fit together differently.

It dawned on him that the dynamic he perceived between you and Eunji was not that of a mother and child but of a dedicated aunt taking on the role of guardian. This realisation left Seonghwa with a newfound sense of hope, a chance he'd never imagined before.

His heart began to race, not only from the embarrassment of his mistake but also from the realisation that his feelings for you were no longer encumbered by the thought of you being a married woman.

"Yeah, poor Eunji's parents died in a tragic car accident about a year ago. Her aunt was left with no choice but to care for her all alone, especially since Eunji's grandparents were all gone too. From what I know, she's been struggling quite a bit, trying to adjust her life to the sudden new addition of a child. It must be extremely difficult, so if you're trying to say she's remarkable, I completely agree with you." Joy clarified the situation, finally giving Seonghwa the full picture of the story.

He absorbed this information, his heart aching for the difficult circumstances you've been navigating. The admiration he felt for you deepened even more, not only for the love and care you provided to Eunji but also for the strength and resilience you displayed during such challenging times.

He realised that he's been drawn to you not just because of his attraction but because of the genuine respect and appreciation he held for the way you've handled the situation.

The relief of finding out you weren't Eunji's mother was quite apparent on his face, and Joy, with her mischievous grin, didn't miss a beat. She wagged her finger at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement, "Well, well, well, guess who has a crush on his student's guardian."

His eyes widened in realisation, knowing he'd been caught red-handed, "Wha—"

She interrupted him, not letting him evade the truth.

"Don't even bother trying to hide it, I see through you. It's about damn time, Park Seonghwa! I was starting to think you were hopeless, but you're making me proud now," She wiped a fake tear off her face dramatically, causing him to roll his eyes and playfully smack her on the arm, "Oh, shut up, it's just a little crush."

But that didn't deter Joy as she continued to tease him with a mischievous grin, "Oh, just a little crush, huh?"

Before she could carry on with her good-natured ribbing, the bell rang, signalling that lunchtime was over. Seonghwa let out a sigh of relief as the students began to file back into the classroom.

The whirlwind of emotions and revelations during lunch left him slightly breathless, but it also ignited a spark of hope and anticipation for what the future might hold.

Today was one of those days when you were terribly late to pick up your niece from kindergarten. Seonghwa and Joy were the only ones left with the child, and as the sky grew dark and the school closed its doors, a sense of unease settled in.

Seonghwa has been trying to reach you, but his calls have unfortunately gone unanswered.

He knelt beside Eunji, trying to reassure the child, whose eyes were welling up with tears, "Hey, hey, it's alright. Your aunty's going to be here soon, I promise," The child's voice trembled as she voiced her fear, "What if aunty leaves me like mummy and daddy?" Joy shook her head, her heart going out to the young girl, "Of course not! Your aunty is coming, I know it!"

Just as her words settled Eunji's nerves, you finally arrived, out of breath and visibly shaken. Your hands were bruised and bloodied, and you looked exhausted. Your niece's tears turned into relief as she spotted you and rushed into your arms, "Aunty!"

You held her tightly, sighing tiredly into her hair as you stroked the back of her head. The teachers approached you, worry etched across their faces as they immediately noticed the dishevelled state you were in. The concern was evident in their eyes, and they exchanged silent glances as they contemplated how to address the situation.

Seonghwa immediately sprang into action, helping you pick up your work bag that had fallen to the floor. Joy, with a look of genuine concern, guided you to the nearest bench.

"Are you alright?" She asked gently.

You sighed heavily, wincing slightly as she examined your injuries, "I was held back by an important meeting today, and while I was rushing to get here, a bike nearly ran into me! Thankfully, a kind stranger managed to pull me out of the way just in time. I guess I'm lucky these are the only injuries I sustained."

Seonghwa frowned, sitting down beside you with Eunji on his lap, the worry etched across his face, "What happened to your car?"

You bit your lip and rubbed your neck sheepishly.

"It's in the workshop waiting to be serviced, but I'm kinda short on money lately, so I can't afford it for the time being. But I promise I won't let that stop me from coming to pick Eunji up on time again! I'm so sorry for the trouble I've caused you both."

Joy shook her head in understanding and quickly moved into the school to grab some plasters for your injured hands. Seonghwa, on the other hand, sat there with furrowed brows, deeply concerned not just about the car but about the tough situation you were in.

He couldn't bear to see you in this predicament and decided that he had to step in and help, otherwise, he would never forgive himself, "How are you going to get home then?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

You were visibly contemplating your options, knowing that walking home with Eunji would be challenging but not wanting to burden the teachers further, "We'll... we'll walk home, we don't live that far from here anyway." It was at that moment that Joy returned with the necessary first aid supplies, and she shook her head in a determined manner.

"Absolutely not, Seonghwa will take you both home." She insisted. She then turned her attention to your injured hands, gently cleaning the wounds and applying the plasters.

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head furiously, feeling guilty about imposing further, "N-no, please, Mr. Park, you don't have to! Gosh, I've troubled you enough. I can't possibly expect that from you."

But Seonghwa simply smiled, ruffling Eunji's hair as she giggled, "Don't worry about it; I want to help. Besides, I have nowhere to be after work, and you say you don't stay far from here, right?"

You nodded shyly, feeling a mix of emotions.

No one has ever been so generous to you before, and the fact that your niece's kind and handsome teacher was going out of his way to assist you touched your heart. The attraction you've been feeling for him has been growing, but now, it has become even more undeniable. Seonghwa's kindness and generosity were drawing you closer to him.

His warm smile filled you with gratitude, "Oh, and please, just call me Seonghwa from now on."

You smiled in response, relieved that he was making an effort to be closer to you, "Okay. Thank you, Seonghwa."

Meanwhile, his colleague pretended to gag behind you, making him throw her an annoyed glare, "Go home, Joy. Your boyfriend must be worried." He said, attempting to make her leave him alone.

Joy smirked, knowing he wanted to be alone with you.

"Alright, alright. I'll get going first then. I trust Seonghwa to take good care of you two. See you tomorrow, Eunji-yah!" She said as she waved to your niece, who beamed in response.

"Bye-bye, Teacher Joy!" The child called out with excitement as Joy finally left, leaving you and Seonghwa alone.

The three of you settled into Seonghwa's car, with little Eunji securely buckled in the back seat. He gave a playful question, asking, "Are you ready?" Your chuckles filled the car when the child responded with excitement, shouting, "Yes! Let's go, Teacher Hwa!"

As you made your way home, he gathered the courage to ask you, "So, do you have any food prepared at home for dinner?"

It was then that you realised you'd forgotten to prepare anything, and you hurriedly replied, "Oh, no! I forgot all about stocking up on groceries, but it's fine! Just drop us home, I'll run to the nearest convenience store and take care of it."

He pursed his lips and shook his head firmly, "No way, I'm taking you two to dinner, and we can go grocery shopping together. How's that sound, Eunji-yah?" He asked, glancing at the young girl, who cheered and clapped happily, her enthusiasm melting your heart.

"But—" You were about to protest, but Seonghwa cut you off, "No 'buts,' we're doing this."

You nodded in defeat, acknowledging that he was being genuinely kind and helpful, "Oh, alright, I owe you for this."

He grinned, fully aware that he had an opportunity to get to know you better and earn your trust. He didn't want to rush things or scare you away, so he was determined to be patient and take things one step at a time.

The teacher took you and Eunji to a cosy little Chinese restaurant and ordered everything you both wanted to eat, even when you protested and told him that you couldn't possibly eat that much. He insisted, his kindness and attentiveness shining through.

You've known that he was a good and caring man; his reputation at the kindergarten made that clear. He was incredibly popular among the parents, not just for his handsome looks but for his genuine compassion and warmth.

As you observed his sweet interactions with Eunji, your heart warmed even more. You realised how much your niece must have missed having a father figure in her life, and Seonghwa was filling that role beautifully during this dinner.

All this time, you've been juggling the responsibilities of both mother and father ever since your sister and brother-in-law had left the world so suddenly. It was a heavy burden, and Seonghwa's presence and the genuine care he showed not only to Eunji but to you as well, were like a breath of fresh air.

As you ate, he found himself staring at the injuries on your hand. Concern for you had taken root in his heart, and he couldn't ignore the fact that you were facing financial difficulties, struggling to even afford car servicing.

The memory of your near accident weighed heavily on his mind, and he decided to broach the subject.

He cleared his throat and spoke gently, "Listen, the situation with your car worries me, especially considering what happened today. How about this? I could drop you off at work in the mornings and pick you up in the evenings. You won't have to worry about your safety, and it would be no trouble at all for me to take Eunji to school with me."

You rejected his offer, grateful for his kindness but concerned about the burden it would place on him, "Seonghwa, you've done so much for us already, and I appreciate it more than you can know. But I couldn't possibly ask you to go through all this trouble. I don't know how I could ever repay you if you did."

He placed his chopsticks down, his expression serious and determined, and he sighed lightly.

"Trust me, I understand that you feel bad, but I promise you're not taking advantage of anything. I genuinely want to help you. If not for yourself, at least accept it for Eunji's sake. You have no idea how scared she was today when you showed up late. She... was afraid you'd leave her like her parents did."

Your eyes widened at the realisation, and you immediately shook your head, pulling your niece closer to you and pressing kisses all over her head as you assured her that you'd never leave her. The thought of Eunji feeling abandoned like that was heartbreaking.

After a moment of contemplation, you realised he was right. You reluctantly agreed, thanking him profusely for his generous offer. His kindness and genuine concern for you and Eunji touched you, and you were so grateful for his presence in your life.

You had an incredibly enjoyable time at the supermarket with Seonghwa after the hearty meal. It has been a long while since you'd had this much fun, and he made sure to spoil your niece with snacks and toys, occasionally sneaking in a few items he noticed you eyeing without your knowledge. The joy on Eunji's face was priceless, and you couldn't help but smile.

As he stood at your apartment entrance with the child asleep in his arms, you opened the door wider to let him in. If he found your small studio apartment cramped, he didn't mention it. He carefully placed Eunji on your queen-sized bed, tucking her in with a soft smile.

You led him quietly back to the entrance, feeling immensely grateful for all that he's done, "Thank you so much for everything, Seonghwa. I will pay you back for it all someday, I promise."

He chuckled, shaking his head, "Don't worry about any of that, just... take good care of Eunji and yourself. That's enough repayment."

His words touched you deeply, and you bit back your tears.

"Alright then, I'll pick you two up at 7am tomorrow morning," He said, a hint of warmth in his eyes, "We'll be ready by then! Drive safe, Seonghwa. Text me when you get home."

His heart skipped a beat at your concern, and he stammered, "Y-yeah, I will. See you!" He gave you a gentle smile before departing, leaving you with a feeling of warmth and a newfound connection that was growing stronger with each passing day.

The next morning, you and Eunji got ready and waited by your apartment entrance at 6:55am. True to his word, Seonghwa arrived right on the dot at 7am. Your niece's face lit up with excitement when she saw her favourite teacher approaching.

"Good morning, Teacher Hwa!" She called out, waving her tiny arm enthusiastically.

You smiled warmly at him, "Good morning, Seonghwa."

He greeted you both and came to help you place the child in her seat at the back, expertly buckling her up. He then ran over to your side and opened the door for you, even when you protested that there was no need to.

"Here, I prepared this for you so you don't start work with an empty stomach." He said, pulling out a bag containing a carefully crafted homemade bento set.

Your eyes widened in surprise, "Oh my, Seonghwa! You're too kind; you really didn't have to! I'm already so thankful you're offering to drive me to and from work."

He blushed slightly, "Well, I... I made extra, so I thought I'd pack you some of the leftovers as well. Don't worry about it, please."

You bit your lip, sensing that he was downplaying his generosity, but you decided not to push him any further, "Alright. Thank you so much, Seonghwa."

He beamed and began driving you to your workplace. As you rode along, a sense of gratitude filled your heart, and you realised that his presence brought light and warmth in a way you hadn't expected.

Seonghwa pulled up outside your office building right on time.

As you got out of the car, you couldn't contain your smile when you saw your friend and colleague, San, waiting at the entrance for you.

San offered to give you a lift after finding out about your near accident, but you told him that you already had it covered, without going into too much detail. So, he was quite surprised to see you arriving in another man's car. What surprised him even more was seeing your little niece in the backseat as well.

You exited the vehicle, making sure to wave at Eunji before bowing in gratitude at Seonghwa as he drove away.

San couldn't resist teasing you when you finally walked up to him, "Ooh, who was that? Don't tell me you found yourself a boyfriend already! And don't think I didn't notice little Eunji sitting in the back as well. You better spill, woman."

You burst out laughing, smacking him on the arm playfully before spilling the details about Seonghwa and his kindness. As you shared the story, your colleague listened with interest, chuckling along with you at the heartwarming tale.

As you both settled into your cubicles, with San's desk just opposite yours, he continued to tease you, "You know what, I think he has a crush on you. He literally hasn't even known you that long, and he's doing all this for you? Girl, I'm calling it."

You shook your head, feeling the blush on your cheeks as you waved him off, "Sannie, please, I honestly doubt it. I think it's more likely that he's taking pity on us and probably just has a soft spot for Eunji. Besides, what man would want to get themselves into this?"

He frowned, not liking the way you were so self-deprecating, "Into what?"

You blinked, taken aback, "Isn't it obvious? I'm basically a single parent, and I could barely take care of myself. Who in their right mind would want to take on this burden?"

San narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at you, "No, I won't allow you to sit here and talk about yourself like that."

Before he could further give you his pep talk to remind you of how wrong you were about yourself, your manager stepped into the office, immediately throwing your friend a warning glare. He was notorious for gossiping during work hours, and your superior has been out to get him ever since she first caught him slacking off.

San pouted and sank into his seat reluctantly, but not before giving you a look that said, "This isn't over."

You sighed, appreciating his concern but not wanting to give yourself false hope. Seonghwa was almost too good to be true, and it would be cruel to let yourself believe that you stood a chance with him when he was probably just that nice of a guy and likely only wanted to help as Eunji's teacher.

Focusing on your work, you reminded yourself that, regardless of the future, you had to continue to be the best parent and guardian you could be for Eunji. Whatever may come, the bond that was forming between you, your niece, and Seonghwa was already a gift in itself.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa arrived at the kindergarten with Eunji in his arms. The sight of him carrying the little girl caused Joy to raise her eyebrows mischievously. He rolled his eyes, fully aware that she wasn't going to let him live this down, especially after he shared the events that unfolded the night before.

Joy had always been quick to pick up on his emotions and seemed to have a knack for getting him to spill the beans about his personal life. As he headed into the kindergarten with Eunji, he knew that he was in for another one of his colleague's teasing sessions.

After setting your niece down in her classroom and watching her run off to play with her classmates, he wasn't surprised to see Joy blocking his way with a devious grin.

She wasted no time in getting to the point.

"So, I take it last evening went incredibly well," She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, "You're welcome, by the way. When you do get married to her, I better be the maid of honour."

He scoffed in disbelief, "Aren't you thinking a little too far ahead? I'm literally a long way from even earning her complete trust. I'd be lucky if she even considered me her friend, and you're joking about marriage, really?"

Joy smirked and nudged him on the shoulder, "Oh, come on, but you do want it to happen, don't you?"

He blinked, stammering, "Sh-shut up, Joy. It's too early to tell."

She snickered, "Oh, is it?" Before she could continue, the bell saved him again as she went to her own class, but not before sending him more teasing looks.

He sighed and shook his head, trying to focus on his work, but he couldn't help thinking about the bond that was slowly forming between him, you, and Eunji. The future was uncertain, but for the time being, he couldn't deny that he was becoming more and more hopeful about what might come next.

Unbeknownst to you and Seonghwa, you had both been on each other's minds the entire day.

As the hours passed, you were equally looking forward to seeing each other again after work. Your lunch breaks were spent enduring playful teasing from your colleagues in your respective ways, but with the thought of getting off work on your minds, you both managed to power through more easily.

Seonghwa, perhaps a bit more than you, was lucky enough to be surrounded by adorable children all day. In contrast, you were piled with endless reports to write and deadlines to meet.

Despite your different work environments, both of you sighed with relief at the same time when the clock struck 6pm. Your hearts fluttered at the thought of meeting again soon, as if the anticipation was a shared connection between the two of you.

"Bye-bye, Teacher Joy!" Eunji waved excitedly, her tiny arms holding onto Seonghwa's shoulders as he carried her to his car. He was preparing to leave the kindergarten and pick you up from work.

He resisted the urge to flip Joy off, who was still wiggling her brows playfully at him and sticking her tongue out to provoke him. Instead, he focused on your niece, giving her a reassuring smile before moving to get into his car.

The car ride to pick you up felt like an eternity, even though it was just a short drive. He was eager to see you, his heart pounding with anticipation.

He couldn't help thinking about how your evening together might unfold and whether you'd been looking forward to it as much as he had. As he pulled up to your workplace, he couldn't stop himself from smiling at the thought of seeing you again.

Seonghwa eventually spotted you emerging from the office, but you were with your male colleague from that morning who was tugging you by the wrist. He knew it was irrational, but he felt a twinge of jealousy seeing you so close to another man who wasn't him.

Your colleague, after spotting his car already waiting, immediately beamed and waved a hand in greeting. Seonghwa nodded back politely, smiling tightly as he watched San ruffle your hair before helping you open the car door.

"Hi, I'm San! Nice to meet you, Seonghwa. She's told me a lot about you. Thank you for helping my friend out; it means a lot!" Your colleague's friendly introduction made it clear that he was just looking out for you.

Seonghwa quickly realised that San was just being friendly and shook his head, "Oh, it's nice to meet you too, San. Please, don't mention it."

San turned to wave excitedly at your niece, "Hey, Eunji-yah!" The child bounced in her seat, "Hi, uncle Sannie!" He cooed before saying his goodbyes and left, not without sending you a devious smile that made you roll your eyes.

Seonghwa was surprised to learn that San and Eunji were already acquainted. He tried to be subtle as he inquired, "Oh, have San and Eunji already met? They seem familiar with each other."

You chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, Sannie's a rather close friend of mine outside of work. He has been over at my place a few times to help out when things get a little overwhelming for me alone."

He made sure to smile widely and nodded slowly, hiding any hint of envy he might have felt. He wanted to be the one to help you out, and he silently promised himself that he would try to be there for you more from now on. He wanted to be the one who made a difference in your life, and he was determined to earn your trust and affection.

Days turned into weeks, and your mornings and evenings with Seonghwa transformed into a comforting routine. He continued to pack you food, despite your protests, and consistently treated you and Eunji to delightful dinners before taking you home.

Over the course of several months, he evolved into a strong pillar of support in your life.

Thanks to his constant presence and willingness to help, you rarely had to ask San for assistance anymore. Seonghwa's reliability eased the burden that life had placed upon your shoulders. He became a source of comfort, and your niece slowly began to see him as a father figure, looking up to him with admiration and affection.

As you spent more time with him, he continuously surprised you with his endless caring and attentive gestures. Whether it was helping you prepare meals, being there to pick you up after work, or simply offering a reassuring presence, he went above and beyond what was expected of a teacher.

Your heart began to race more each day, your affection for him growing as you appreciated the little things he did, even when he didn't need to.

You didn't realise the extent of your reliance on Seonghwa until one fateful night when Eunji's cries woke you up from your sleep. You pushed yourself off of your bed, rushing to her side to check on her.

Panic welled up in your chest as you saw her clutching her stomach and crying out in pain.

"It hurts, aunty... it hurts." She whimpered, her small face contorted in agony. Your heart nearly stopped as she screamed in pain when you tried to lift her up, "Oh no, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, my angel. It's okay... it's going to be okay." Tears welled in your eyes, and your heart ached to see her in so much distress.

You felt helpless, not knowing what to do to ease her pain.

Not daring to move the child further in fear of hurting her even more, you scrambled to grab your phone instead. Feeling frustrated and frantic, you dialled your first contact, which was supposed to be San, but it went straight to voicemail, indicating that his phone was likely turned off.

Your heart sank, and tears rolled down your cheeks as you rushed back to your niece's side, trying to comfort her while trembling with fear. You needed help immediately, and with no other options, you dialled Seonghwa's number.

It took him a moment, but he eventually picked up, his voice filled with urgency, "Hey, is everything alright?" He must have known that something was terribly wrong for you to call at this late hour.

You struggled to keep your voice steady as you spoke to him, your fear and desperation were evident in your shaky words, "S-Seonghwa... please help. I-I'm so scared... God, she's in pain, and I d-don't know what to do..."

Seonghwa didn't waste a second.

He was already up and getting changed the moment he heard you call out to him so vulnerably. His heart lurched in his chest as he tried to comfort you over the phone.

"Alright, I'm going to need you to breathe with me first. Can you do that? Don't hang up; I'm coming over right now, and I'll stay with you on the phone. We'll get through this together, okay? I'll be there before you know it. It'll be okay."

His calming words and the thought of his imminent arrival were like a lifeline, and you did your best to follow his instructions and regulate your breathing. You clung to the phone, thankful for his presence and reassuring voice as you waited for him.

The weight of the situation pressed down on you, and the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. You held your niece tightly, whispering soothing words to her while you awaited his arrival.

Relief washed over you as you heard the knock at the door. You swung it open and cried out his name in gratitude, quickly pulling him into your unit. He knelt down beside your niece, and you could see the worry in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Teacher Hwa... it hurts." Eunji sobbed, clutching her belly.

Seonghwa gently felt her forehead, his expression turning more serious as he realised she was running a fever.

"It's okay, I'm here now. We'll take you to the hospital, and all the pain will go away real soon, okay?" He reassured her. She nodded as best she could, her trust in Seonghwa evident in her teary eyes. While he comforted her, you rushed around, packing a bag with some clothes and necessities for the hospital.

He approached you and steadied your shaking hands, "Hey, it's going to be okay. I think she has appendicitis; it's pretty common for kids. Don't worry too much, alright?" His calm and reassuring words helped to alleviate some of your anxiety.

Seonghwa's experience and expertise in such situations were a tremendous comfort. He carefully lifted Eunji from your bed and placed her in his car while you quickly got into the back seat, wanting to be as close to her as possible.

The trip to the hospital was still filled with worry, but he expertly guided you both, instructing you on what to do whenever the child felt any discomfort.

As Eunji was immediately taken into the emergency care unit upon arrival at the hospital, the doctors swiftly confirmed the diagnosis of appendicitis. They explained that you both were fortunate to have arrived early enough for her appendix to still be intact. If you had come later, it could have burst, leading to more complications.

Despite the worry, the doctors assured you that your niece would be just fine after the surgery to remove her inflamed appendix. This news was a tremendous relief, and it filled you with gratitude that she was in the right place at the right time, thanks to her teacher's swift response.

Sitting there on the bench outside the operation theatre, you finally let your guard down, tears streaming down your face.

"Thank you so much, Seonghwa. I... I really don't know what I would have done without you. I was going to call San but couldn't reach him, and I was so scared. God, if something were to happen to her, I would never forgive myself. I've already lost most of my family, I... I can't lose her too, Seonghwa. I really can't..."

He listened to your words, and his heart swelled with compassion as he understood the depth of your fears and anxieties.

A small part of him was glad that San hadn't been available, or he wouldn't have been the one to be here with you now. But he reminded himself that now wasn't the time to relish in this.

With a gentle but firm embrace, he pulled you close to him, allowing you to cry into his shoulder. His own heart ached for the pain you've endured and the burdens you carried.

He couldn't imagine how tough things must have been for you all this while. As if losing your sister and brother-in-law wasn't painful enough, you were suddenly responsible for a child you were struggling to take care of physically, emotionally and financially, having no experience whatsoever.

As he held you, he whispered softly, "You're doing an incredible job. It's not easy, but you've shown such strength and resilience. You're a wonderful guardian to Eunji, and she's so lucky to have you."

You clung to him, finding solace in his comforting presence. His support was a lifeline during your most vulnerable moment.

As your sobs subsided, Seonghwa slowly pulled away, his warm hands moving to brush some stray hair out of your face and gently wiping your tears before cupping your cheeks. His actions immediately sent your heart into a frenzy.

He gazed into your eyes with sincerity, his voice filled with reassurance, "You're not alone in this. I'll always be here for you and Eunji, no matter what. You're like family to me now, and I'll support you through all the ups and downs."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your breath hitch as he leaned in closer. The air crackled with unspoken tension, and you felt his warm breath on your lips. It was an electric moment, but he knew it was crucial to respect your vulnerable state.

Deep down, he wanted nothing more than to kiss you on the lips.

But he settled for pressing his lips gently against your forehead for now. His kiss conveyed his unspoken feelings, the deep care and affection he held for you. It was a promise of his support, even in the face of your most challenging moments.

With his lips against your skin, your heart raced with a flurry of emotions. The warmth of the kiss sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but wonder about his true feelings.

On one hand, there were undeniable signs that he cared deeply for you. The way he's consistently been there for you and Eunji, his thoughtful gestures, and the never-ending support he offered in your times of need all pointed to a deeper connection.

But you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that maybe he was just being a caring friend.

Your own insecurities played a significant role in your hesitance. You found it difficult to believe that someone as perfect as Seonghwa would be romantically interested in you, a single parent with a messy, complicated life.

While his actions spoke volumes, you struggled to accept the possibility that this man could want to be part of your world. It left you caught in a whirlwind of emotions, battling between hope and self-doubt, trying to decipher the complexities of your relationship with him.

The relief that washed over you as the doctor confirmed the success of Eunji's surgery was almost overwhelming. You thanked the medical team profusely, your voice trembling with gratitude.

But then, your emotions got the best of you.

You wrapped your arms tightly around Seonghwa's neck and buried your face in his shoulder, this time letting out tears of relief.

His immediate response was to hold you even closer, his arms providing the safety and comfort you desperately needed. His hand gently stroked the back of your head, and he whispered soothing words, "I told you everything would be okay, didn't I?" He said softly, his voice a gentle reassurance.

With a weary nod, you continued to cry against his shoulder, seeking solace in his warm embrace.

Normally, you would have hesitated to be so bold, but the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion had pushed you beyond your usual boundaries. At this moment, all you wanted was comfort, and Seonghwa was more than willing to provide it.

You decided that, for now, you would allow yourself to lean on him.

As you sat beside Eunji's hospital bed, your eyes were fixated on her peaceful slumber. You breathed a sigh of relief, silently thanking all the gods you didn't believe in for ensuring her safety. You held her tiny hand against your forehead, grateful for the successful surgery.

The peace was interrupted by the ringing of your phone. You swiftly moved away from her bedside to answer, careful not to wake her.

It was San on the other end, his voice filled with concern and guilt, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! My phone died last night, and I forgot to charge it. Why'd you call me in the middle of the night? Did something happen?"

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the ordeal, and San listened attentively, apologising profusely for not being there when you needed him. You assured him that it was alright, understanding that it was an honest mistake. He promised to visit later after arranging leave from work for both of you.

As the conversation with San came to an end, you suddenly remembered Seonghwa's commitment to his job at the kindergarten. You immediately felt a pang of guilt for relying on him so heavily when he had his own responsibilities to attend to.

You approached Seonghwa, who was peacefully napping on the couch in the corner of the hospital ward, and knelt down in front of him to observe him for a moment.

His head bobbed sleepily, and you couldn't resist smiling at how adorable he looked. It was undeniable now that you'd developed deep feelings for him, but at the same time, you felt the weight of your circumstances bearing down on you. You believed that you had nothing to offer him, and he deserved someone who could reciprocate the love and care he had so selflessly given you.

Collecting your thoughts, you gently shook him on the shoulder.

He immediately snapped awake, "Oh dear, I fell asleep, didn't I? Sorry about that," You shook your head, assuring him that he had nothing to be sorry for, "Gosh no, please don't apologise for that. I should be the one saying sorry. You should probably go home and get some rest before going to work."

In fact, you felt guilty for relying on him so much.

But he quickly sat up straight and protested, "What? No, I'm staying here with you two."

You sat beside him and smiled, "You really don't have to, Seonghwa. Sannie is applying for leave, he's coming over soon. And I... I've troubled you enough; you can't miss work because of us too. You can come to visit after work if you'd like, but please... don't skip work too, I feel bad enough already."

He relented after hearing you out; he could tell you really didn't want him to sacrifice any more for you.

Reluctantly, he agreed to go to work. He didn't want to make you feel like you owed him more than you already did. You smiled and walked him to the room door, expressing your gratitude once again.

"Thank you again, Seonghwa. You... you saved her life, and I can never thank you enough for this." You said with genuine appreciation. Your eyes reflected a mix of emotions and gratitude.

He nodded, his expression soft.

"You don't have to thank me. I want to be here for you and Eunji," He replied, emphasising his genuine concern for you both, "Don't ever hesitate to call me if you need anything, alright? I'm always ready to help, always."

Before he left, you held his hand for a moment, meeting his eyes with a depth of emotion that couldn't be ignored. It was clear that your connection was growing stronger each day, despite the obstacles and self-doubts. He squeezed your hand gently and then left the hospital room.

After Seonghwa's departure, you sat by Eunji's bedside, relieved that she was recovering.

As San walked into the hospital room, his eyes met yours, and he immediately noticed your tear-stained face. Without a word, you ran into his open arms, seeking solace in the friend who has been your rock throughout these challenging times. He held you close, silently reassuring you that he was there and that you didn't need to face everything alone.

"God, I'm so sorry," He whispered softly, his voice filled with genuine regret, "I should've been here for you, especially when you needed me the most."

You clung to him, tears flowing freely, your shoulders shaking with the weight of your emotions. San continued to hold you, providing the support you desperately needed in this moment.

The bond between you and San had grown over the years, as he had been with you through all the hardships you faced. He was like the brother you never had, and his presence brought you immense comfort, reminding you that you were never truly alone.

He chuckled as you both settled down, the tension from earlier finally releasing its grip on you. With a playful gleam in his eye, he couldn't resist some light teasing, "I'm telling you, Seonghwa is definitely a simp for you."

Your laughter was a welcome sound, even given the circumstances, and it was a reminder that life still had its moments of lightness. But as you chewed on your lip and confessed your feelings, his teasing demeanour softened, and he offered his heartfelt advice.

"Sannie... I think I might have feelings for him too, but... I'm scared." You whispered.

He sighed, his gaze understanding and empathetic.

His hand gently rubbed your arm as he spoke, "Listen to me, I know you think that being a single parent makes you unattractive, but Seonghwa has proven you wrong, hasn't he? Besides, don't tell me you're going to deprive yourself of the opportunity to fall in love just because of Eunji? You should still live your life, you know? It's what your sister would've wanted for you, to be happy."

Your eyes met his, filled with gratitude.

"I'm telling you, you deserve happiness just like anyone else," He whispered, his tone filled with sincerity, "You can't let fear hold you back. Seonghwa's actions speak for themselves, don't they? He's a wonderful person, and if you have feelings for him, you should explore that possibility. I can see the way he looks at you; it's more than just sympathy."

You bit your lip, contemplating his words. Your sister would have undoubtedly wanted you to be happy, and it was time to think about your own well-being and happiness. You nodded slowly, gratitude filling your eyes as you met San's gaze.

"You're right, Sannie," You replied with a grateful smile, "I'll... try to open up and see where things go with Seonghwa. Thank you for always being there for me."

San's endless encouragement was the very thing you needed to hear. His words were a gentle nudge toward embracing your feelings.

Eunji's voice was like a soothing melody in the room, and you rushed to her side, tears in your eyes, "Aunty... uncle Sannie?" Her little voice croaked, and you knelt beside her bed, your heart swelling with love.

"Aunty's here, Eunji-yah." You whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

San, who had been sitting beside you, leaned in to join you, "Uncle Sannie is here too, sweetheart."

Eunji reached her tiny hands out, her fingers brushing against your cheeks to wipe away the tears that trickled down. Her concern and innocence touched you deeply, and you smiled through your tears, "Eunji-yah, you feeling much better?"

San's gentle hands moved the child's baby hair out of her face, and she nodded in response, "Don't cry, aunty. I'm okay now."

You chuckled through your tears, kissing her soft cheeks, "Yes, of course you are. My angel is so brave and strong."

As the medical team checked on your niece and made sure she was stable, you and San remained by her side, grateful for her recovery. Eunji was now sitting up in her hospital bed, engrossed in watching cartoons on the TV.

After a while, she wondered aloud, "Where is Teacher Hwa?" Her voice was still soft, but there was a clear longing in her words.

You smiled and leaned over, ruffling her hair and planting a loving kiss on her head, "Teacher Hwa needs to go to work, sweetie. But he'll come by afterwards, is that alright?"

She nodded cutely in understanding, but there was a hint of disappointment in her eyes, "I miss Teacher Hwa." She admitted.

I miss him too.

San couldn't resist spoiling her with affectionate kisses and playful teasing, and you had to agree with her unspoken sentiment. Deep down, you missed her class teacher too, more than you were willing to admit.

Two days later, Eunji was finally approved for discharge from the hospital. As you settled the hospital fees, you sighed to yourself. The money you were using to pay the bills had initially been saved up for your car to be serviced, but now, it seemed that particular expense would have to wait a bit longer.

You kept your financial struggles to yourself, not wanting to burden San or Seonghwa any further. You knew they would help you without hesitation, but you already felt like you owed them more than you could ever repay in this lifetime.

Returning to Eunji's ward, you find Seonghwa packing up her stuff while San helps her get changed out of her hospital gown.

The sight warmed your heart, and even though San's support was something you'd grown accustomed to and deeply appreciated, having Seonghwa there too gave you a newfound sense of hope. San's words from just a few days ago echoed in your mind, and you began to entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe, love was possible even in the midst of everything you were going through.

Meanwhile, the two men unexpectedly began to form a friendship during the time they spent together taking care of your niece over the past few days. All the while, San never failed to send you playful glances and subtle thumbs-ups whenever Seonghwa looked away to signal his approval of the kindergarten teacher.

Eunji perked up when she saw you enter the room.

"Aunty!" She called out, sprinting towards you as soon as San was done helping her get dressed. You picked her up in your arms and laughed when you saw your friend pouting jealously in the background, his arms crossed in mock annoyance.

"Yes, yes, run to your aunty and leave me behind. Leave poor uncle Sannie alone after everything he's done for you." He sighed dramatically, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

Seonghwa chuckled at the scene.

San reminded him a lot of Joy, and he had a feeling they'd make a chaotic duo if they ever met each other.

Pushing the concerns about your financial status to the back of your mind, you decided to focus on the present and worry about that later. Seeing all the most important people to you together, the future seemed a bit brighter.

You had a growing support system that included a caring friend like San and, possibly, a romantic connection with Seonghwa. Though you were still hesitant to fully embrace the idea of love in your life, your niece's recovery and the presence of these two amazing men were giving you hope that maybe, just maybe, there was room for happiness after all.

As days turned into weeks, Seonghwa's actions became increasingly deliberate. It was as if he could read your mind and were aware of your insecurities, he was making a conscious effort to let you know about his non-platonic feelings.

He didn't just stop at being a good friend and support system; he wanted to be more than that in your life.

His compliments became more heartfelt and frequent, making you blush and smile whenever he praised you. His words, no longer confined to appreciating your strength or kindness, now included expressions of admiration for your beauty, your intelligence, and even your sense of humour. He made sure to remind you of how special you were to him every chance he got.

He began to do little things that set your heart racing.

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear during dinner, his fingers gently brushing your skin, sent shivers down your spine. Wiping your lips when you were eating, though seemingly innocent, took on a more intimate meaning when his thumb grazed your lower lip in a slow, deliberate movement. He held your gaze longer than necessary, his eyes revealing the depth of his feelings, and a small, knowing smile often graced his lips.

Seonghwa wasn't afraid to be physical in his affection either. He started walking with a hand resting on the small of your back, his touch warm and reassuring. These gestures sent your heart into overdrive, and you wondered if maybe he felt the same way about you as you did about him.

His advances were impossible to ignore, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that his feelings for you were not limited to friendship.

Unbeknownst to you, he's been preparing to ask you a very important question on a very important day.

The day had been exceptionally hectic for you.

Your workload had grown to mountainous proportions, and while everyone, including San, had left the office, you remained behind to tackle the never-ending tasks. It was one of those days when deadlines and responsibilities refused to be tamed.

You glanced at the time and realised it was much later than you'd initially planned. A quick text to Seonghwa informed him that you would need a little more time at the office and asked him to pick you up slightly later than usual. You suggested he grab dinner with Eunji while they waited for you.

As you dove back into your work, minutes turned into hours. The relentless ticking of the clock was accompanied by the echo of your typing, and the office became a quiet refuge, save for the dim hum of the fluorescent lights.

Seonghwa's text alert came, signalling his arrival, but you were engrossed in a report, and it took you a moment to notice the message. You quickly wrapped up the document and started packing your things, your mind racing to meet the deadline.

When you finally arrived at the entrance, you were greeted by a sight that left you utterly speechless.

There, waiting for you with bright smiles and expectant eyes, was Seonghwa, San, and Eunji. In Seonghwa's hands was a cake with a single lit candle, Eunji clutched a bouquet of colourful flowers, and San held a bunch of balloons.

As they began singing "Happy Birthday" in unison, the tears welled up in your eyes. You've been so consumed by your work that you'd genuinely forgotten about your own birthday. Their thoughtful gesture touched your heart deeply, making you feel cherished and loved in a way you hadn't in a long time.

You stood there, absorbing the warmth of their surprise, appreciating the genuine smiles on their faces, and feeling incredibly lucky to have them in your life.

After they finished singing, you shyly approached Seonghwa to blow out the single candle on the cake, "Oh, thank you so much, you three!" You exclaimed, chuckling through your tears of joy.

You moved to take the colourful bouquet of flowers from Eunji, who seemed puzzled by your tears. She asked with her innocent eyes, "Aunty, don't cry! Are you sad?"

You shook your head, still smiling through your watery eyes as you kissed her little cheeks, "Of course not, silly! I'm crying because I'm happy!" She seemed slightly perplexed but content, leaning in to press a wet, loving kiss to your cheek, "I love you, Aunty." She said, her voice filled with genuine affection.

With Eunji's tender declaration of love warming your heart, San, who had been clearing his throat loudly, playfully complained, "Excuse me, what do I get, huh? Am I invisible?" You rolled your eyes and laughed, moving to hug him as well, "Thank you, Sannie. You're the best, I swear," He grinned, rubbing your back affectionately, "I know." He responded in a cheeky tone.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa seized the moment to get into position. After carefully setting down the cake, he moved to stand behind you, taking his place as he decided it was the perfect time to make his feelings known, "How about me? Do I get a hug too?"

As you turned around, your breath hitched at how close Seonghwa was. Your heart raced, and you noticed the twinkle in his eyes. San discreetly led Eunji to a corner to witness the scene unfold, grinning to himself as he did so.

"Happy birthday." Seonghwa whispered.

Your heart raced, and you thanked him with a smile, the anticipation in the air growing as he gently reached for your hand. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt that something significant was about to happen.

He looked into your eyes, his gaze unwavering, and said, "There's something important I need to confess tonight." You gulped, your mind racing with possibilities, and nodded slowly. You wondered if this could be the moment you'd secretly dreamed of.

"You know, there used to be a time when I wanted nothing to do with love or romance. I'd sworn off dating for the longest time, wanting to focus only on my job and the kids at work."

Your eyes widened, this was news to you.

He began by sharing a humorous memory from the past, recounting how he'd initially mistaken you for Eunji's mother and the internal turmoil he experienced at the time. He held back his feelings, thinking it was wrong to have a crush on his student's mother. You both laughed about it, and your heart skipped a beat as you began to sense where this conversation was leading.

"I couldn't believe my eyes when I first saw you," He shook his head in amusement, "Little did I know you were Eunji's aunt."

You laughed along, "Well, at least now it makes more sense."

As he continued, you listened with bated breath, "But over time, my initial crush evolved into something much deeper, something I couldn't ignore. Watching you, taking care of Eunji, and being so strong throughout it all... It touched my heart." His words stirred your emotions, and you realised that he had feelings for you even then.

He squeezed your hand, his touch reassuring, "I want you to know that you've inspired me, made me want to love again, to have a family of my own, with Eunji as our child."

His confession hung in the air, the weight of his words settling around you both. You took a moment to absorb it all, his vulnerability and sincerity washing over you.

"Seonghwa," You began, your voice soft, "I... I had no idea."

He smiled gently, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, "I didn't want to burden you with my feelings, especially considering everything you've been through."

A rush of emotions swirled within you.

You squeezed his hand, the unspoken understanding between you palpable, "You've been such an amazing friend to us, Seonghwa. You've helped us more than I can put into words."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours, "And I want to continue being there for both of you, in whatever capacity you'll have me."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but they were tears of gratitude, of hope, "Seonghwa, I..." You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, "I never imagined this, but... I've come to care for you deeply. You've been a rock for us, and I can't imagine facing all of this without you."

He smiled, his gaze tender, "I feel the same way, perhaps even more."

The sincerity in his eyes overwhelmed you.

This was a turning point, a moment that could change everything. You took a step closer to him, closing the distance between you, "Seonghwa," You whispered, "I would be honoured to have you in our lives, as more than just a friend."

His smile widened, a mixture of relief and joy dancing in his eyes, "You've just made me the happiest man alive."

As you leaned in, he met you halfway, and your lips finally met in a soft, sweet kiss. It felt like a promise, a new beginning. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, connected in this moment of shared vulnerability and newfound love.

But your romantic moment did not last long with San and Eunji skipping out of their hiding spots, singing, "Teacher Hwa and aunty, sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Their voices immediately made you and Seonghwa pull away, cheeks flushed crimson.

San smirked, "Well, looks like we have another thing to celebrate now, so who wants cake?" Eunji jumped excitedly at the mention of cake, "Me! Me! Me!" Seonghwa chuckled, lacing his fingers with yours before walking up to the two, "Alright then, let's go." You bit your lip, struggling to take your eyes off your intertwined hands, heart swelling in happiness.

The celebration continued with shared laughter. San couldn't resist a final tease, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but it seems like my predictions were spot on. Congratulations, you two."

The future was uncertain, but you were certain that, with Seonghwa's support and love, you could face anything that came your way.

Seonghwa's following day at work was filled with playful jabs and teasing from Joy, who had learned about your newfound relationship from Eunji, your adorable messenger.

While he might have outwardly displayed annoyance, there was a part of him that secretly relished the teasing. It made everything feel more real and solidified, reminding him that he was no longer just your helpful friend and confidant but your boyfriend.

"Hey, remember when you used to say you'd never waste your time on dating?" Seonghwa rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day as he packed up after work, Eunji waiting obediently at the playpen for him to go pick you up from work together, "Yes, Joy, I remember. But that was before I—"

She smirked, "Before you met the love of your life?"

He blushed, once again reminded that it might still be too soon to say the L word to you no matter how much he wanted to, he didn't want to pressure you into saying it back to him if you didn't feel the same yet. He would have to find the perfect moment to tell you.

"Yes, Joy, exactly." He chuckled, shaking his head at the playful banter. Joy has always been a close friend, and he appreciated her teasing as a sign that she was genuinely happy for him. He continued to pack his things, a smile playing on his lips.

"I remember all those times I said I'd never date," He admitted, "But I guess life had different plans for me. Meeting her and Eunji... it's like everything I thought I wanted was nothing compared to what I have now. I've never been this content."

She watched him closely, her teasing demeanour giving way to genuine curiosity, "So, what's it like, then? To have someone who's so important to you?"

He sighed, momentarily lost in thought, "It's like having this unwavering support, someone who cares about my day, my dreams, my struggles... It's having someone to share the joys and sorrows with. And with Eunji, it's like having a family, the one I never knew I needed. It's pretty amazing, Joy."

She smiled at him warmly, "I'm so glad you've found it, Hwa. It's beautiful to see how much you've grown and how much love you've discovered."

Seonghwa nodded, grateful for the newfound happiness that entered his life. It was a reminder that sometimes, the unexpected and unconventional paths led to the most fulfilling destinations.

The evening sun cast a warm, golden hue over the scene as you and San exited the office building. There, leaning against his car with an air of casual confidence, stood Seonghwa, a captivating smile on his face. Your heart raced at the sight of him, and you felt incredibly lucky to have him in your life.

Beside him was your niece bouncing around while she waited for you. Eunji's boundless enthusiasm and infectious energy were on full display as she rushed toward you and your colleague, wrapping her little arms around your legs, "Aunty! Uncle Sannie!"

You ruffled her hair lovingly, a radiant smile on your face, "Did you have a good day, Eunji-yah?" You asked, your affection for her shining brightly, "Yes!"

Her ever-doting uncle Sannie picked her up, lifting her high, and she giggled with delight. In the midst of this heartwarming scene, he subtly pushed you toward Seonghwa, who was waiting for you with an expectant look in his eyes.

As you approached him, your gaze was fixated on him, and you couldn't help feeling like a teenager in love.

Your heart fluttered with each step, and without realising it, you missed a step, stumbling slightly on the uneven pavement, your heels causing an issue. But in an instant, your boyfriend's reflexes kicked in, and he rushed forward, his strong arms reaching out to catch you. His hands found your waist and steadied you.

For a heartbeat, your noses bumped gently against each other, and your breaths mingled. The closeness was intoxicating, and your heart raced even faster in response to this unexpected proximity.

"Hi." The two of you whispered at the same time.

Seonghwa's arms encircled you, holding you close in the aftermath of your stumble. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that tender moment. You looked up into his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest, and in that shared gaze, you found an unspoken connection.

In the background, San playfully covered Eunji's eyes, his voice carrying a comically dramatic tone, "Fear not, young Eunji! I shall shield your innocent eyes from this heartwarming scene of romance!"

Laughter bubbled up from both of you, breaking the spell but only for a moment. Seonghwa's eyes twinkled with affection, and without another word, he leaned in, closing the remaining distance between you. His lips met yours in a sweet, gentle kiss, a promise of the love and care that lay ahead for both of you.

It was a kiss filled with tenderness and the unspoken promise of a future together. The world seemed to stand still, allowing you to savour the moment, etching it into your memory.

When you eventually pulled away, a soft smile graced your boyfriend's lips, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. There was a warmth in his eyes, a silent reassurance that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As you both turned to look at Eunji and San, you found them engaged in a playful debate about whether or not it was time for ice cream. It was a perfect tableau of the life you were now building together—a little messy, a lot of love, and filled with joy.

In that moment, you knew you were exactly where you belonged, in the arms of the man who has become your rock, and surrounded by the love of your little family.

In the few months that you'd been with Seonghwa, you marvelled at what a sweet and thoughtful boyfriend he was. He embraced his role as a partner and father figure with open arms, and it showed in the way he cared for you and Eunji.

Seonghwa was a master of small gestures.

Whether it was a good morning text, a surprise lunch he'd prepared and dropped off at your office, or a cosy movie night he'd set up for you and Eunji, he knew how to make you feel loved. His actions spoke louder than words, a testament to his caring and attentive nature.

You couldn't remember when it began, but you and your niece have been staying over at his place frequently lately. So frequent to the point that your own studio apartment felt like a hotel that you'd only return to once in a while.

On the days when you both stayed over, his morning routine included preparing breakfast for you and Eunji, a tradition that quickly became a heartwarming ritual.

You'd wake up to the smell of pancakes or fresh fruit salad, and your niece couldn't contain her excitement when it was a pancake morning. His culinary skills were a surprise to you, but he enjoyed whipping up dishes that made you both smile.

Seonghwa has become the perfect family man.

He'd do the grocery shopping, subtly watch over Eunji in kindergarten without neglecting the other kids, and even help her with her homework. His patience knew no bounds as he explained math problems for what seemed like the hundredth time.

On weekends, you'd all go for picnics, trips to the zoo, or simply have a quiet day at home. You could feel his love in the way he held your hand, kissed your forehead, and smiled at Eunji's jokes. His affection was a warm embrace that wrapped around both of you, making your little family feel complete.

It was his sharp and observant eyes that amazed you the most. He noticed when you were tired or had a rough day, and he'd be there with a comforting hug or a listening ear. He was the first to recognise when Eunji needed a little extra attention or when she was hiding a scraped knee under her dress.

You loved how attentive and observant your boyfriend was, but there was a part of your life that you desperately wished he would be less perceptive about. It was the financial struggles you'd been trying to hide from him for some time.

As the months passed, you managed to pay off the bills for your car maintenance and finally got it serviced, but it came at a price. Sacrificing your budget for that left you unable to afford your rent and credit card debt. Most of the credit card expenses have been related to Eunji and her needs – kids' things were indeed expensive, and you'd always put her first.

One day, while you were at Seonghwa's place with Eunji, you received a text from your landlady, and dread settled in your stomach. She demanded that you return home to speak with her, which was unusual. You quickly thought up an excuse to tell Seonghwa, explaining that you had to run somewhere quickly.

He looked concerned, sensing that something was amiss, and his worry for you was evident in his eyes.

After you left, he couldn't resist the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. He decided to check your backpack, where you kept your clothes and necessities for staying the night. That's when he discovered your unpaid bills, debt statements, and financial struggles laid bare before him.

He cursed himself for not realising the extent of your financial difficulties sooner. The truth hit him like a punch to the gut. You were still struggling, and he couldn't stand by and let you bear that burden alone.

Your heart dropped like a stone the moment you arrived home. There, you found all your belongings packed up in boxes, scattered messily outside of your unit, "W-what's the meaning of this, Mrs. Lee?"

The landlady stood in the centre of the chaos, her hands propped on her hips, a furious look on her face. She didn't waste any time expressing her anger, "Are you really asking me that?" She scoffed, "You didn't pay rent for two months. Did you think I was going to let you leech off me like that?"

You were in a state of panic, rushing up to her, your eyes darting around to take in the disarray. You began to explain your situation, your voice trembling, "But you said you understood when I told you I've been saving up to pay you all at once by the end of this month. You know my niece and I—"

She sighed, lifting a hand to stop you.

"Enough with the pity party. You always use the kid as an excuse. I've had it. I've already found a new tenant who will pay more than you. They're moving in tomorrow. So, take your things and leave."

You dropped to your knees in desperation, pleading with her not to do this, your voice quivering.

It was at this moment that Seonghwa arrived with Eunji in his arms. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene, and his expression quickly shifted from surprise to anger as he overheard the last cruel sentence uttered by the landlady.

With his nostrils flaring in anger, he marched up to you and gently helped you up from the ground, all while maintaining his composure for the child's sake. Then, he handed Eunji over to you.

Your niece quickly reached up to wipe away your tears with her tiny hands. She asked you not to cry, and you sniffled in response, trying to assure her that everything would be okay.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa turned to confront the landlady.

His voice was firm but never raised, "Mrs. Lee," He began, "I understand that there have been issues with rent, but it's crucial to remember the legal obligations here. Regardless of the situation, you must provide proper notice and follow due process for eviction."

She seemed taken aback by his confidence and knowledge, "Well, I didn't know that, but I've already found someone else willing to pay more for the unit. I can't just let her stay here."

Seonghwa remained unwavering, "I'm not suggesting that you should let the situation continue as it is, but there's a proper way to go about this. You can't just throw them out onto the street. They need time to find a new place."

He continued, "If you follow the right procedures, both parties can come to a mutually agreeable solution without any legal issues. Trust me; I know a thing or two about these matters."

The landlady hesitated, realising that your boyfriend was not to be underestimated, "Well," She muttered, "I didn't know about all that. I'll give you a week to sort things out, but that's it. The new tenant is moving in after that."

He nodded, his demeanour still steady, "Thank you, Mrs. Lee. I'm sure we can come to an arrangement within the given time frame."

You glanced at Seonghwa with gratitude in your eyes, knowing that he just bought you some valuable time to find a new place to live without the immediate pressure of eviction.

As he helped you carry your belongings back into the unit, you couldn't bear to look him in the eye. You felt ashamed and overwhelmed by your financial struggles. He knew something was wrong when you turned your gaze away from him, he sighed and gathered you into his arms.

It was the comforting, secure embrace you needed, and it didn't take long for your tears to start flowing against his shoulder. He gently pressed your head into the crook of his neck, his warm breath caressing your ear.

"Why didn't you tell me you were struggling so much financially?" He whispered softly, his heart aching as he held you.

You sobbed and pulled away slightly, your tear-streaked face revealing your vulnerability, "I'm sorry, Hwa," You choked out, "I didn't mean to hide things from you, but I really didn't want to burden you any more than I already have."

Seonghwa shook his head and cupped your tear-stained cheeks, looking into your eyes with genuine concern, "Listen to me," He said, his voice firm yet tender, "You are not a burden. I'm willing to do anything, including providing for you and Eunji. I want you to come to me for help anytime you need it, you hear me?"

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you bit your trembling lip, tears trickling out the sides of your eyes as you nodded slowly.

After you've calmed down, the two of you settled on your bed. Eunji was taking a little nap, giving you both a moment of privacy. You sat there, staring at the boxes of your belongings and feeling overwhelmed by the uncertainty of your future.

"What am I going to do?" You whispered, the weight of your situation pressing down on you.

Your boyfriend reached for your hand and gently squeezed it, "Move in with me... for good." He said with a calm tone.

You snapped your head up to meet his gaze, searching for any signs of reluctance. But all you found in his eyes was sincerity and an earnest desire to share his life with you and your niece. He leaned in, his thumb brushing your knuckles before he brought your hand to his lips and placed a tender kiss on it.

"Please," He implored, "Let me be there for you. It's why I'm here. You and Eunji, you're my everything now, and I can't possibly sit around while you're struggling. Let me take care of you."

A lump formed in your throat as you shifted closer to him, your hand moving to cup his cheek. You croaked out, "I love you, Hwa," His heart melted at your words, and he chuckled tearfully, his eyes filled with affection. He had longed to hear those three words from you, "So, is that a yes?"

You nodded, and you sealed your decision with a gentle kiss. As you pulled away slightly, he couldn't help expressing his love for you, "I love you too, so much that it drives me crazy."

A week later, you and Seonghwa stood side by side in his apartment, gazing around the transformed living space with pride. The place had undergone a subtle but significant makeover, and now it felt more like a warm and welcoming family home.

The interior had brightened considerably, with cheerful colours and playful decorations that were clearly chosen with Eunji in mind. A colourful toy box stood in one corner, overflowing with stuffed animals and games. The walls were adorned with the child's artwork, showcasing her creativity and vibrant imagination.

Your boyfriend has been more than accommodating, allowing both you and Eunji to have a say in how the place was decorated. It was a collaborative effort that turned the apartment into a reflection of your shared love.

He made it clear that he would have been content even if the place had been transformed into a Barbie-themed wonderland.

All that truly mattered was being with you and Eunji.

"Tadaaa~"

Eunji's squeals filled the room as you removed your hands from covering her eyes. She darted around the apartment, pointing out everything that caught her attention. Her infectious excitement made your hearts swell with happiness as she skipped from one corner to another, exploring her new home.

Seonghwa stood beside you, a contented smile gracing his face as he watched your niece's enthusiasm.

Her presence and the shared sense of belonging in this new place filled him with a profound sense of fulfilment. This was not just an apartment; it was a home, a place where your love and family could grow and flourish.

The next day in kindergarten, Eunji's excitement was infectious as she rushed around, handing out invitations to her friends and her beloved second-favourite teacher, Joy. The little ones received their invites with wide eyes and giggles, their youthful enthusiasm matching your niece's.

"Ooh, what's this?" Joy's curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn't resist opening the invitation right there.

Her initial surprise at receiving an invitation turned into a warm smile when she realised it was for your housewarming party. She found it amusing that you were celebrating in such a manner, considering it wasn't a new house but rather a symbol of the new life you, Seonghwa, and Eunji were embarking on together.

She couldn't contain her excitement as she approached Seonghwa with the invitation in hand. Her teasing tone laced with affection, "Why is it that I always have to learn these things from Eunji and not you?"

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and chuckled, a hint of playfulness in his response, "This is exactly why. You never let me live."

She burst out laughing before getting a little more serious, "Alright, fine. I'll let you off just this once. Can I bring my boyfriend, though?" She asked, her expression eager.

Seonghwa's eyes softened, and he nodded warmly, "Of course, Joy. I'd love to finally meet the poor soul that has to endure you for the rest of his life."

She mockingly smacked his arm, feigning offence, "Yah, Park Seonghwa! I take it back, you'll suffer today."

Meanwhile, your workplace held its own share of celebrations as you handed an invitation to San, your dear friend and colleague. A broad grin stretched across his face as he read the invitation, and he threw an arm over your shoulder, playfully teasing, "Aww, I'm so proud of you, bestie. Look at you, all grown up already."

You wriggled out of his embrace before he had a chance to mess up your hair, retorting, "San, I'm literally older than you."

With a shrug, he quipped, "Does it matter? You'll always be my little baby," He playfully pouted, attempting to look pitiable. But before you could respond, your manager interrupted the exchange with a loud clearing of her throat and a disapproving glare directed at him, "Choi San, this is your last warning," He immediately straightened up and saluted, "Yes, ma'am."

As soon as your manager moved away, he couldn't resist a cheeky comment, "I'm telling you, she has the hots for me," You rolled your eyes and playfully smacked him, "You're ridiculous. If we get fired someday, I'm blaming you."

The weekend had arrived, and your housewarming party was just hours away.

Your heart swelled with happiness as you watched Seonghwa twirl Eunji around the living room. Your niece, dressed in her new Elsa costume, giggled with delight, her laughter filling the room.

While the two of them enjoyed their cute little dance, you were in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the food spread. The aroma of homemade dishes wafted through the air, making the atmosphere feel even more inviting.

The excitement was palpable as you glanced around the room, taking in the decorations, the array of snacks, and the cosy ambience you worked hard to create. Everything was ready, and you couldn't wait for your friends to arrive, celebrating not just a new house, but a new chapter in your life with Seonghwa and Eunji.

One by one, the guests arrived.

The first to arrive were Joy and her boyfriend, Hyoseob. You greeted them with a warm smile, "Oh Joy, I'm so happy you could make it!" She beamed in response, giving you a hug, "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Seonghwa, always quick with a teasing remark, couldn't resist the chance to rib Joy about her relationship, "Ah, you must be the famous Shin Hyoseob. Just so you know, Joy never shuts up about you, like ever." This was his chance to get her back for all the times she's relentlessly tormented him about your relationship at work.

Not long after, San arrived, and he immediately scooped up Eunji in his arms, causing her to giggle with delight.

He joined the group, and you introduced him to your boyfriend's colleague. As predicted by Seonghwa, San and Joy hit it off right away, chatting and laughing as if they'd been friends for years.

Soon, Eunji's friends began to arrive one by one, and the house filled with laughter and the joyful chaos of children running about. You would have panicked had it not been for Seonghwa and Joy's expertise in having so many kids under control, the two of them kept a constant watchful eye to ensure they didn't cause any trouble.

The party was now in full swing, and it was a heartwarming sight to see everyone come together to celebrate this special day with you and your little family.

As you sat with the adults at the dining table, your attention kept drifting to your niece, who was happily playing with her friends in the living room.

A bittersweet ache tugged at your heart as you thought about your sister and how she would feel about the life you've created for her daughter. You wondered if she was looking down on you, proud of the strength you'd shown and the love you'd poured into raising Eunji after her passing.

Just a year ago, if someone told you that your life would be this full of love and happiness, you might have thought them delusional.

But now, surrounded by all the people you loved, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Your life was filled with friends who had become like family, a beautiful niece who brought joy into your world, and a man who had become your partner in this journey.

Seonghwa noticed your silence and the distant look in your eyes. He slid his hand into yours, capturing your attention as you turned to look at him, "You okay?" He asked, concern evident in his eyes. To you, he felt like a guardian angel, sent by your sister to protect you and bring happiness into your life.

You nodded and offered a small smile, "I'm fine."

He wasn't entirely convinced, but he smiled back at you and leaned in to place a gentle peck on your temple. His affectionate gesture didn't go unnoticed by your friends, who couldn't resist teasing you both, causing your cheeks to flush with a lovely shade of embarrassment.

As the party came to an end and the last of the guests had left, you began the routine of settling your niece for the night. After a warm, relaxing shower, you tucked her into bed.

Eunji grinned up at you, her eyes sparkling with excitement, "Aunty, that was the bestest party ever!" She exclaimed. You chuckled, leaning in closer to her, "Really? Are you happy?" She nodded enthusiastically, her little face glowing with happiness, "Yes, I love it very, very much!" You gently stroked her cheek and gazed at her lovingly, "And I love you very, very much."

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had been quietly watching the interaction between you two from the room's entrance. His heart never failed to flutter every time he witnessed the bond between you and your niece.

Eunji let out a huge yawn, and you patted her stomach, indicating it was time for bed, "All right, off to bed with you."

The child giggled and nodded, snuggling under her blanket, "Goodnight, aunty. I love you very, very much too."

Hearing those words from her, even though she has said them many times before, touched your heart in a different way. You leaned down, brushing a soft kiss on her forehead, "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you more." Your words held the promise of endless love and protection, and Eunji drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

Later that night, as you finished up your skincare routine in your shared room, Seonghwa approached you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. His concern was evident in his voice as he spoke, "Are you alright, love?"

You smiled, appreciating how well he knew you. Pulling off your face mask and tossing it aside, you turned to face him.

"Nothing ever goes past you, huh?"

Your boyfriend shook his head, his eyes filled with understanding and affection, "Nope, not when it comes to you, you know that," You wrapped your arms around his neck, deciding to open up about what has been on your mind, "I thought about my sister a lot today."

He tightened his embrace, knowing that this was a sensitive and emotional topic for you, "I was thinking about how she'd feel if she could see where her daughter is today and if she'd be proud of me."

Moving one hand to cup your face, he spoke, "I don't need to be your sister to know that she would be so proud of you. There's no one else who could love and care for her daughter more than you." You felt your heart swell with love for the amazing man who stood before you.

As you chuckled and nuzzled into his touch, you playfully admitted, "I was also convinced that you're my guardian angel sent by her."

Seonghwa grinned, maintaining the playful tone, "Aw man, that was our secret. How did you find out?"

Your laughter filled the room, and he watched you with adoration. Once you've calmed down, you whispered, "I love you so much, Hwa. I can't believe you're really mine," He leaned in closer, his eyes filled with warmth and affection, "Well, you better believe it because I love you even more."

With those sweet words, he pressed his lips firmly onto yours, sealing your love and commitment to each other. In that tender moment, you both knew that you'd found something truly special in each other, something that would last a lifetime.

Am I the only one who thinks Seonghwa is literally husband material? I doubt it but good GOD, does this man make me yearn for marriage and motherhood. Y'all know I'm lying to myself when I say I'm not a whole ass simp for him.

Hope y'all enjoyed and as always, would love to hear all your thoughts on the story, so feel free to leave as many replies as you want! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

#edenesth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #single parent au #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #seonghwa oneshot #ateez oneshot

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sanccharine · 6 months

Text

blueberry muffins | sn

single parent au, christmas au

pairing: babysitter!sana x single parent!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 7.2k

warning: so sweet it'll rot your teeth ! ew that ryhmed, i'm sorry

summary: when your own life becomes a b-rated hallmark holiday movie (not that you're complaining)

a/n: finally, what was supposed to be last year's christmas fic and the sequel to pizza party! is here !! all thanks to this request !! this was co-written by @eternallyghosting (she wrote three (very important) sentences and the summary, which is easily the hardest part of writing fics) strangely, it was nice writing domestic fluff again and also i gave up on the banner :D also is this happy belated christmas bc this was for last year or is it early bc christmas is in five days ?? anygays, happy holidays !!

The moment the car stopped, a door was being shoved open. You didn’t have to check the rearview mirror to know that your son had sprinted out. Shaking your head, you shifted the gear to park before turning your gaze at your girlfriend.

Minatozaki Sana was a confident woman. Or at least that is what you’ve gathered over the last year. She was never one to hide how she felt; it was she who had made the first move. So to see her eyes glazed over, trained on the raindrops collecting at the edge of the windshield was concerning, to say the least.

“Hey,” was all you uttered, even quiet to your own ears. But Sana was attuned to your voice so she straightened before she turned to meet your gaze.

In the many years that make up a life, a year may be inconsequential. Between those three hundred and sixty-five days many things can happen. You can meet new people, spend time with them and get to really know their likes and dislikes, understand what truly makes and motivates them. During this time, you could gain lifelong friends, whom you instantly sync with only to lose them by the end of the year. Twelve months is enough time to drive you away from your family, to uproot your life and start anew, or perhaps return home to loving arms where everything remains unchanged. A year is a million moments of frustration and tears and happiness, a combination of beginning and endings, and gain and loss. But many years later, those instances would be fleeting at best.

A whole year; a passing moment.

Perhaps that’s why you were pleasantly surprised with how well things were with Sana. Having known each other for almost two years, from kind greetings building up to genuine conversations. The slow build of your relationship, from when you first asked her about her bad day to when she finally asked you out for a coffee date. There was not a moment you regretted, and to think that this was all the result of your son, the last shove the pair of you needed.

Now Sana has moved in, you wake up to her running around your home alongside your son. She’d gone from his babysitter to someone who takes an active role in his life, someone who shapes him to be better. Someone he can learn from, grow with, and rely on, especially when you weren’t there for him.

Simply put, you couldn't be more sure of your decision to be with her. Now, there were only a few more steps.

Without saying a word, you reached for her hand, her fingers interlocking with yours instinctively. “I’m not worried, I just need a moment,” Sana said, the frozen glaze slowly dissipating from her eyes.

Exhaling, you reached out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. Silky soft to the touch, even with her constant dyeing. How she managed to maintain the texture remained a mystery. From her natural brown to blinding orange to auburn to back to her brown, you’ve seen Sana’s hair shift faster than the seasons. Though in the dark of the night, your car was only illuminated by the lamppost a meter away, her hair seemed so depthless it was inky black.

Sana leaned into your touch, her eyes fluttering shut as you held her. Just as you were about to assure her, a loud thump on the glass startled you both apart.

“Aren’t you coming?” Your son asked loudly, though it sounded muffled since he had the side of his face and palms pressed flat against the glass. With another slap to the glass, he moved away but not before saying. “Open the trunk, I need to show grandma my chef’s hat and cookbook.”

Sana had gone from clutching her heart to clutching her stomach as she doubled over with laughter. You, on the other hand, had to rest your forehead on the steering wheel to let out a long and exaggerated groan.

“He will be the—”

Your son hit the car twice, yelling. “Trunk, please!”

“Okay, okay, I’m opening it! It’s opening,” you stumbled to find the button. With a huff, you took out your car keys while Sana was still giggling as she got out to help with the suitcase.

Your son had catapulted himself into your father’s arms as you headed up the porch, luggage in hand. Sana followed behind you, not necessarily hiding, but slightly obscuring herself from your parents. Smiling, you extended your free hand to take hers as you reached the door.

“Oh, look who’s home!” your father exclaimed, as he swiftly lifted your son up and placed him on his hip.

“Don’t do that! Who’s going to pay for another surgery?” you said, scowling while your mother slapped at his arm, trying to pry your son away.

“With all that hard work, it will be you, of course,” your father said, before whispering at your son who then burst into giggles after peeking at you.

“Well, if it's all the same, help me out with our bags—”

“Not happening,” your father said before walking into the house.

“Here, let me,” your mother passed right by you and attempted to take the bag Sana was shouldering. Sana tried to decline politely, but your mother wasn’t having it. Soon the bag was in her hands and she took Sana’s hand in hers. Your mother gave you a smile as she guided Sana into the house. “She’s beautiful.”

“I know, Mom,” you groaned, the smile hard to suppress.

Home felt familiar. There was a smell, something you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. Of course, there were notes you recognised. A blend of your mother’s baking and your father’s obnoxious perfumes against the smell of rain. Something you’ve experienced so many times before and have long yearned to return to. As for furniture, nothing seemed to have changed. You spotted a few new frames, photos of your son now competing with numerous photos of yourself. Then one that really stopped you in your tracks.

Your mother, artistic in all of her endeavours, had a growing collage of her favourite photos on a pinboard. You don’t come home often to notice all the small edits she makes, but this one was glaringly obvious. It was a picture that was clearly printed out recently. On normal paper it seemed, it lacked the gloss. It was cut to the shape of the three people in the photo, bordered with orange craft paper and stuck on at the very edge of the board.

It was a picture of you, your son… and Sana.

One night, when Sana decided it was time for her classic bright orange to return, she asked whether you wanted to dye your hair as well.

Of course, in an instant, you answered no. Unfortunately, your son had overheard the question and practically begged you to let him dye his hair. So that night, both you and your son earned a few strands of orange hair that matched Sana.

Almost on instinct, your hand drifted to the spot behind your neck, hiding a few stray strands of fading bright orange hair. When you had sent the image to your mother, you’d laughed at it because your face was barely in it to your mother’s disappointment. In fact, you were showing your back and looking over your shoulder so the orange was peeking through. Sana wore a blinding grin that also matched your son’s, who was pointing at the streak of orange in his fringe. But here it was, printed and cut out and pasted.

The sight invoked a feeling you couldn’t place.

Someone stepped to your right to observe the same picture.

And then Sana turned to look at you, her eyes glassy.

Even if it wasn’t said, you know what this means.

The words were in your mouth when your mother spoke from your left. “I hope you don’t mind me putting up that picture there,” she said with scrunched eyebrows. “I really liked it.”

Sana’s lips twitched upward as she shook her head. “I don’t mind at all.”

Introductions were quite brief, having heard each other quite a bit from you. Besides, you knew once your son tired himself out and was asleep, your parents could really get to know Sana. So, you decided to move your bags up to your scheduled room.

Unfortunately for you, Sana stopped by another door.

Gasping, Sana pushed the door open and took in every corner of your childhood room.

The room was exactly as you left it. Except less messy. No furniture was moved, no posters torn down, no trinkets replaced—it was as if you had never even left.

Sana moved to your study desk, her finger brushing the spines of textbooks that had made your high school years a living hell.

“Did you study a lot?” Sana asked, her voice light as if she were absent-minded.

“Not really, just enough to pass I guess,” Sana sent you a look over her shoulder, head slightly tilted in suspicion before turning her attention back to the desk.

She poked the trophies and participation awards, smiling at your photos crammed to a side before picking one up.

“Someone looks awfully upset here,” she brandished a photo of you standing on a podium, glaring holes at the person in front of you while you gripped your smaller award. “Sore loser much?”

“I deserved first place! You weren’t there, alright?” you rolled your eyes, plucking the photo away from her while she moved towards your bed.

“I can’t imagine you’d ever have such a tidy room,” she chuckled as she took a seat by the foot of the bed, bouncing a little on the comfortable mattress.

“Yeah, well, you have my mother to thank for that,” you smiled, as you leaned on your desk, facing Sana. Watching her.

Perhaps, it was nostalgia. Or exhaustion. Who knows, maybe even the holiday spirit. But you liked staying here, being in your old room, surrounded by things you’ve long forgotten, from a time you don’t particularly miss, but now, with Sana. Someone who promised a new start.

Sana watched you in turn, her lips pressed thin as she suppressed a knowing smile.

Leaning back, she asked. “So, is this where we’ll be sleeping? In your old room?”

Chuckling, you shook your head. “Not a chance,” you jutted your chin at the single bed, “you feel like being crammed into that?”

Sana shook her head as she turned around to feel the quilt, lips quirked up at the shark pattern.

“No, we’re taking the guest room,” you said, walking to your door. From here, you could just about see over the stairway railing and into the kitchen. Both your parents buzzed around your son like moths to a flame, grins on all of their faces. With a soft sigh, you said. “The one that will be coddled, pampered, and spoiled for the next week will be sleeping in here.”

Content for the moment, you turned your attention back to Sana but she was already looking at you. An expression akin to worry was on her features.

“They’ll like me right?”

Sana closed in on herself, hands dragging down the quilt to feel it one more time before folding in front of her stomach. Her eyes darted around the room before settling back on you. You hated seeing Sana like this.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” you pushed away from your place at the door and took Sana’s face in your hands, helping her to look up at you. “They’ll love you.”

You leaned down, your nose brushing against hers as a chuckle escaped her.

“Just like you do,” she giggled cheekily.

You kissed her to stop her teasing.

“Hmm, sure,” but still, you admitted. “Just like I do.”

Once your son had tired himself out and you had unpacked your things, you decided it was time to put him to bed. With his blue set of pyjamas that matched your ancient shark-patterned bed sheets, he clambered and got under the sheets, tucking himself in neatly. You took a seat by him on the bed, hand reaching out to comb his unruly hair out of his face.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, a bit slowly.

“Good,” your son admitted, “it’s nice to see grandma and grandpa again.”

The muscle in your jaw tensed.

You wished you could visit home often, a long drive or not, it wasn’t too hard to come back home. However, work dragged you away and you didn’t even have time to consider a plan for the weekend. Even now, your ‘long’ weekend as an excuse for a holiday was extended into a week of freedom after you’d lined up your leave days and practically begged for the holidays. There was no shame in it, the end of this year was important. There were big changes ahead.

“Good,” you parroted.

“Grandma loved my hat and said we can bake some treats from the cookbook,” he exclaimed. You nodded as he continued. “I asked her if we could make a cake—a blue one!—like Percy!”

“Like Percy,” you scoffed as you completed the sentence with him.

“She said she knows a trick so the food doesn’t come out green,” he added and you didn’t doubt him.

Ever since his class was given free rein over the library, your son has been reading quite a lot. On top of his fascination with cooking, of course. This was the longest he’s stuck with a hobby or interest, and reading that his favourite character managed to eat special blue food, catered to him by his loving mother, only spurred your son more to mimic it.

With your help, and Sana’s… mostly Sana’s, your son has mastered green pastries, desserts and sweets. Or ogre food, as you lovingly call it. For reasons that you couldn’t guess, no dye seemed to do the trick, perhaps you were buying cheap brands?

“Yeah, I’m sure she does,” you rolled your eyes before pinching his nose, at which he swatted your hand away.

“So which book are we reading tonight?” Sana asked, walking into your childhood home with a book in her hand. You could guess which one it was.

“The Lightning Thief!” your son squealed when Sana held the book up.

“Don’t you get tired of reading the same one again and again?” you asked, watching Sana as she took a seat on the other side of the bed.

“Nope!” your son said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis.

“Okay, but aren’t you curious about what happens next—?”

“Oh, don’t start this again,” Sana said, as she conspirately shook her head with your son, clearly over your grumbling.

“I’m just saying—!”

“Oh look at the time,” your son pulled up his empty wrist. “It’s bedtime, we only have time to read a few pages, let's get started!”

Scowling, you pinched your son’s cheek and he had the audacity to giggle.

Sana had started reading the chapter you’d stopped on. Her voice was soothing to listen to, even if the story wasn’t too uplifting. Getting comfortable, you curled up next to your son over his quilt and watched his drooping eyes struggle to stay open.

As Sana finished the chapter, she glanced over. A smile tugged on her lips when she found that your son was deep asleep.

With a nod, you kissed him on the forehead and made sure he was comfortable. Following suit, Sana placed a kiss of her own on his temple. The pair of you exited the room on your tiptoes and slowly closed the door behind you.

“I’ll take the book back,” you said, extending your hand out.

Instead, Sana placed a kiss on your cheek, her eyes lidded.

“What was that for?” you asked, surprised but you weren’t complaining.

“Just because,” she shrugged and then handed the book over to you.

“Are you stalling seeing my parents?” you asked with a smirk as your hand came to rest by her neck, your thumb tipping her jaw to face you.

“Not at all,” Sana said with such conviction that if you didn’t know her better, you’d have believed her.

“They won’t take much time, I won’t let them interrogate you. I can tell them we’re tired and we need rest,” you said tilting your head to the side. “Which we do, honestly.”

Sana nodded with a sigh, her eyes shuttered close as she leaned into the warmth of your palm.

You pulled yourself in for a kiss, a gentle one, on her lips. Sana hummed before pushing away.

“I’ll see you in a second,” you whispered. “You got this.”

She nodded and turned towards the stairs. You waited till she reached the bottom of the stairs before making your way to the guest room. Staying for such a short time, there was no need to unpack completely, and for that, you were slightly grateful. That meant you could hide things without anyone being the wiser.

Dropping the book down on the open suitcase, you kneeled to rummage through the clothes. Making sure to lift layers of clothes as it is, you find a small velvet box at the very bottom. The sight of it brought a smile to your face. It can only mean so many things, though you still have some things to complete.

Leaving it in the same room would be a gamble. The guest room was basically empty, anyone would be able to find it. Every other room in this house had someone staying in it or had them frequent it often. Anything moved out of its place would ring the alarm bells, no, you needed to hide this somewhere no one was likely to check.

So you walked back to your childhood room and entered as quietly as you could. Your son was sound asleep. The left door on your cupboard creaked when it opened, but if you applied pressure on the hinges as you opened, it made barely any sound. Locating the bottommost drawer, you pulled up your old clothes and shoved the box at the very back before hiding it under the clothes.

Happy with your task, you exited the room just as stealthily and made your way down to join your family as if nothing were amiss.

Even with the help of your mother, it seems your son had difficulty mastering blue food.

Somehow your mother managed to convince your son from an elaborate tiered cake to a classic sponge cake to plain old blueberry muffins. You’d hoped that maybe you could escape for the day, maybe with Sana, around your old neighbourhood. Unfortunately, you’d been roped in as assistant chefs and taste-testers instead.

Seated on the couch, you watched three of the most important people in your family take a crack at making blueberry muffins which were actually blue in colour. Sana had been assigned mixing duty, which made no sense to you because you knew for a fact your mother had an ancient stand mixer lying around somewhere in the house. Though Sana didn’t seem to share your sense of justice as she was happy to do so.

Your mother was taking her time going through the recipe book and teaching your son her own techniques. The sight helped you recall some of your own moments under her wing in the kitchen, though you were neither as interested nor skilled to be there. Oh but your son, he was completely enraptured. You’ve never seen him in school and struggled to attend parent-teacher meetings, but you guessed this is how he was in class as well. The swell of pride on your chest was an indescribable feeling.

When Sana said that the batter was ready, your head perked up. Leaving your place on the couch, you made your way to the kitchen. Making sure your mother and son were distracted by the oven, you moved behind Sana. You had to be quick!

Rounding one hand on her waist, you placed your chin over her shoulder and at that, she chuckled while snuggling into your side. And then, you struck.

Your free hand’s index finger dipped into the bowl to carry a dollop of aqua-blue batter straight into your mouth.

By the time Sana had realized what you’d just done, you were already out of her reach. Her indignant shriek altered the other two chefs of your crime, though even they couldn’t do much now.

When the muffins had been completed, you were surprised to see they were properly blue. Not some horrid inedible shade of green.

Your first question after inhaling a few muffins alongside your father was to your mother.

“How did you get them so blue?” you asked, staring at the dishes in the sink, looking as if a smurf had been murdered. “We never managed.”

“Well, depends if you bothered to buy the brand I told you to,” your mother showed an empty tube on the counter and you rolled your eyes at the dig.

“I did buy that brand!” you said, moving to pick up and examine the tube… only to find two more tubes hidden, flattened beyond recognition.

“Well, then it depends on quantity,” your mother said as you turned on the balls of your feet, incredulous.

“Is this much dye even healthy?” you asked, already reading the ingredients on the tube.

“Guess we’ll find out,” your mother only shrugged as she looked at her husband, still scarfing down the muffins. You sent your mother another incredulous look but she just laughed at her own silly joke.

As the holiday came to an end, you finally got your chance to spend some time alone with Sana.

Your father claimed he barely got any time to spend with his grandson. Of course, that was a complete lie. With how much time and money he spent, you’d even debated getting your son a gift at all. Though that was out of the question, you and Sana had already set your mind on what it was and had it ordered beforehand. You just had to go collect it.

So your father said he’d take you all to the park. Once there, you let them go their own way. One moment, your son was accompanying your father and the next he was running at the nearest dog, eager to pet it.

Holding hands, you and Sana watched as you made your way through the park. With every step, you were getting further away until you could see your son no more. Suddenly, the velvet box in your jacket pocket weighed you down, as if it had materialized into your jacket out of thin air.

“Not going to lie,” Sana started, “I thought you’d show me more of your old home.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“I don’t know, something like your old friends? Your old school? Old hang-out spots?” Sana drew on. “Maybe how that high school enemy of yours and how they work at a general store, having never escaped this small town?”

“I don’t know what winter budget film you watched, but that’s not happening here,” you rolled your eyes at her imagination. “Also, what enemy?”

“The first-place winner,” Sana said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh please, I’m not that petty to be thinking about something that happened so long ago,” Sana watched you intently, nodding along almost in a mocking manner. “And besides, they’re a professor at the university across the city, I believe.”

Sana’s grin widened as you just realised what you admitted.

“I wasn’t keeping tabs on them! I just saw a post of theirs recently, alright!” you cried, though it fell on deaf ears.

The most important thing to come out of the walk was your destination. To and back, it was mostly filled with Sana’s inane questions (filled with imaginative scenarios to paint you as some egregious husk of a human, might you add) and you answering them with proper facts and maybe some anecdotes. Sana stopped by the crafts store to collect wrapping paper while you collected your son’s gift.

It was the following series of his favourite books; Heroes of Olympus.

Yes, he has yet to finish the last two books of the current series. And yes, you’d only just berated (teased) him about rereading the first book. But you could just imagine how his face would light up when he sees these books. In fact… you don’t even know if you’ll be reading these books to him by the time he gets to them, which was strange to think about but really, there wasn’t a better gift for your son.

When you arrived back home, your son was taking a nap on the couch, which made it all the more easier to wrap the present for him and get dinner ready.

When your son woke up the table was already set and the first thing he did was take his seat. All eyes were on him, everyone was wearing smiles watching him practically bounce on his seat. He gets to have his dinner, the muffins that he made, and then open his gifts early. Your father, chuckling, ruffled his hair and took a seat beside him.

Dinner, for the most part, was uneventful as usual. That's not to say you didn’t have any fun. You did, you really did. As you ate your meal, you took a backseat in the conversation, observing just how comfortable Sana was alongside your family. She had absolutely nothing to be worried about. Your parents adored her. Almost as much as how much you and your son did.

“So when is it?” your father’s question filtered in and you looked away from your nearly clean plate.

“When is what?” you asked before taking your final bite.

“I asked when are you two getting married?”

Sana had to rub your back so you didn’t choke on your food, or worse, spit it across the table.

“What?” you tip a sip of water. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a valid question, really,” your mother admitted, not really looking at you, but you could see the smile toying at the edge of her lips.

“Yeah, when is it happening?” your son looked up at you, eyes wide and shiny.

“Um…” you turned to Sana for some help. Instead, she took her hand from your back and placed her chin on it, leaning in and expecting your answer as well.

The velvet box seemed to burn in your jacket pocket.

Somehow, you’d managed to get out of that dreadful situation.

Once the plates were cleared and blueberry muffins disappeared. It was time for presents.

As if aware of what he might get, your son gravitated toward the large box set you’d gotten. And you were right.

Nothing could compare to the expression on his face when he realized what he’d gotten.

Without hesitation, he jumped into your arms and thanked you a thousand times. You reminded him that Sana had pitched in as well and he was flying at her to give her the same treatment.

Perhaps, you were petty.

Because you took pride that no other gift earned the same amount of excitement.

The night settled down and your family received one last gift from your mother.

When all of you were out, she’d tidied up the backyard and made hot chocolate.

All throughout this holiday, every moment seemed to be building up to this one.

Under the twinkling fairy lights, you joined your son on the steps to the backyard. He was sitting with his knees up, his hands toying with a small figurine of Poseidon. Sana had bought it for him the moment she laid eyes on it, having thrifted it from some store, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

Seeming to be in deep thought, your son watched the sight before him. With steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands, your parents conversed with Sana. You didn’t know what she said, but it had your father throwing his head back and letting loose a loud snort. Your mother’s eyes crinkled in amusement as she flitted her attention back and forth between them.

Clearing your throat, you began to speak. “Your hot chocolate is turning into cold chocolate, you know.”

You were sure that comment would earn a look from him, but instead, your son moved a hand towards his cup, the figurine still in the other. He sighed and brought the cup to his mouth anyway. But before he could take a sip, you switched out his for your own cup.

“Here, have mine,” you said, carefully placing the warm cup in his hands.

Your son mumbled his thanks and sipped the drink silently, his eyes back on Sana. There was something he wanted to say. You had something you wanted to ask him too. But you decided to wait him out, let him come to you first because you surmised both of you wanted to discuss the same thing.

And so for a moment, on Christmas day, you sat in silence with your son, on the steps to your childhood backyard, sipping warm (and yours, cold) chocolate.

When he was done halfway with his hot chocolate, he placed the cup back down. You followed him. His hands were fidgeting with the figurine again, spinning it round and round, only stopping from time to time to run his index finger over the trident.

“Grandpa was right, you know,” you’ve never heard your son’s voice so small. Wavering, as if he were confused, nervous even. “Why haven’t you asked Sana to marry you?”

He paused to bite his lip while his eyes flitted to the figurine, thumb caressing the figurine’s armour.

“Is it because of me?” he asked. The utterance is almost like an exhale, light but onerous.

It would be so easy to provide empty consolation, that no, it wasn’t anything to do with him. But he knows you too well for that to pass, he’d see right through your attempt. Your son is already quite wise beyond his years, especially at the most inopportune times for you, and was only getting older. For as long as you can remember, it's only ever been the two of you.

Your dates, however rare, come and go. His babysitters, much to his distaste in the beginning, come and go. Having a partner at the start seemed so important, if not to share the burden of caring for a child, then to at least have another figure for your son to look up to. And when you questioned that sort of thinking, you’d figured that all that really mattered was that you were there for your son. With little time as you did have with him in your day, you fought to make time for him. You hadn’t even entertained the idea, that perhaps, you’d date just for yourself. When it came to your son or some romantic dalliance that would never amount to anything real, the choice was easy.

Because at the end of the day, it's only ever been the two of you.

But all of that changed when Sana arrived at your doorstep.

You doubted that neither of you, all three of you even, expected this outcome.

So you understood where your son was coming from, asking this question.

And you decided to be honest with your son, as you always have.

“Yes, in a way.”

Finally, your son turned his full attention to you. His hands were still holding the figurine, but they weren’t fidgeting anymore.

You also turned to face him.

Round eyes had turned sharp, searching for something. Yet his face was a little less expressive, more difficult to read. There were lines of worry decorating his forehead, he seemed older. He’s always by your side, it’s so easy to miss. But this close, on this night, it was obvious. He had grown up.

“Before I asked her, I wanted to ask you,” you confessed. The velvet box that was previously hidden underneath your old clothes in the third drawer of your cupboard was now heavy in your pocket. Your son tilted his head in question. “For as long as I can remember, it has been just you and me.”

You sighed. These words were harder to get out than you’d expected.

“I know you like Sana, and I know she already stays with us, and I know you know how much I love her,” the corner of your son’s lips twitched up a bit. “But there’s a difference between being together and being married. I think it’s a big step. And I don’t want to take that step with your blessing.”

It only took your son a fraction of a second to react. He nodded, eager to say yes.

“Of course, I want this for you,” he said, grinning. “She makes you happy. You make her happy too. And that makes me happy!”

And he was back.

He was giggling to himself as he poked your side with a finger. You rolled your eyes as you tried to brave the tickling sensation.

“But seriously, I want this,” he nodded before turning his attention back to his cup of hot chocolate. He was going to take a sip, but stopped and looked at you. “And… and thanks for asking me.”

“Of course,” was all you could say as both of you went to take a sip from your mugs.

“Ugh!” your son let out an ugly bleh! and frowned. Your parents and Sana turned to look over at you. “This is so cold! Is yours too?”

Your mother chuckled and nodded. From across the yard, she asked. “Shall we go heat them up?”

“Yes, please!” your son stood up and pocketed his figurine. He extended a hand for your cup as well. When you gave it up, he whispered conspiraterly before your mother could whisk him away. “Good luck! You got this!”

And then with a giggle, he’d skipped off into the house.

Your mother stopped at the steps just as you got up and dusted yourself up.

“What were you two whispering about?” she asked with an uptick of her brow as if she hadn’t had her guesses. You shrugged.

“What were you laughing about?” you asked. Your mother glanced back at your father and Sana, then back to you. She shrugged.

“Okay, be like that then,” you said and your mother only chuckled.

Then, she turned back again and called out to your father. “Did you take your tablets?”

“Shit, no!” your father excused himself and rushed over.

“Language!” your mother said as your father zoomed past, though he was more hobbling. Then your mother looked back at you. “She’ll say yes.”

And with that, she followed your father in and closed the balcony door to shut away the cold air.

You turned to Sana. She was already looking at you.

Without a mug, she had nothing to fidget with, so she had her hands steepled in front of her stomach. Her eyes were wide, expectant, as you made your way over.

“Hey,” you said, both your hands finding their place in your pockets. Of course, it was only a front to find the box they were hiding.

“Hi,” she said, the corner of her lips twitching up.

There was nothing left to do. Nothing more you were so sure of.

So instead of stuffing up the moment with unprepared words and emotion, you pulled out the box.

Sana didn’t gasp or squeal or tear up. She just raised her steepled hands to her lips, her cheeks pushed up so high, elated crinkles forming beside her eyes.

You weren't a grand person either. No big dinner, no big celebration, no build-up. You’d considered it, you really had, merely for the sake of Sana. But everything else just felt so unlike you, well, unlike the pair of you. Your start had been so simple, so unassuming, only because there was already so much between you. And everything that had followed, with her, and her with your son, had been the same. Everything just made sense.

But you did think, perhaps, you should get down on one knee.

So you started lowering yourself to the ground as you opened the box. But before you could complete the pose, Sana grabbed you by your collar and pulled you into a crushing kiss.

You surmised that was a yes and smiled into the kiss.

“Come on, come on,” your son was ecstatic, practically shooting off from his seat on the couch. Sana only smiled to herself as she set up the laptop on the coffee table, making sure the camera showed everyone and that she looked all right. “We’re in!”

Handing Sana the mugs in your hands, you seated yourself down and lifted your son onto your lap. Just as you were taking back your mug, a shrill voice shrieked. “Sana!”

Your son giggled while your eyes widened. Because Sana returned the greeting with the same energy. “Nayeon!”

You’ve heard of that one before, Nayeon, and seen photos of her too. Well, you couldn’t remember exactly, Sana had quite the group of friends but when Nayeon’s face appeared along with another person, you just smiled and waved awkwardly.

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Nayeon said politely to you just as another screen popped up. You knew them, the newlyweds!

You parroted her greeting as more screens popped up with familiar faces, but none close. You’ve only heard stories or seen photos. The laptop erupted with voices, none of which you recognized, it was quite overwhelming. Though, Sana had no trouble at all catching the flow of the conversation and laughing along. Your son seemed to follow her, although silently. Someone with the name of Choi Tzuyu housed two people on their screen, they both waved at your son, who responded eagerly.

“I think everyone is here!” one of the women said, her profile name read Jihyo. She was clearly wearing a suit, though her tie had been undone. “Yup, headcount done, everyone is here. How are we moving forward with this?”

“Well, that depends on Sana, really,” a woman from Nayeon’s screen said, she’d just joined the pair that was already there. She was wearing a smug smile, and in response, Sana rolled her eyes.

Both you and your son turned to Sana, expectant.

Grinning at the ground, feigning bashfulness, Sana held up her left hand. And there it was, glinting in the light, your engagement ring.

The audio lagged from how much volume erupted. Someone wolf-whistled, while the others laughed and clapped. You knew people were congratulating you, but you were too busy fending off Sana burying her forehead into your shoulder. Only your son seemed to delight in the revelry.

And then, to your horror, someone yelled. “Show us your ring too!”

Before you could even lift your hand, your son had taken your left hand and held it above his head, showcasing the matching ring!

Someone shrieked again, although this time around the celebration was a bit more subdued.

“Damn, I thought we were all gonna scream again but okay,” the one with the profile name Hirai Momo said, while the person next to them swatted their arm. “What? It’s—”

“Please ignore Momo, congrats on your engagement,” Jihyo said, leaning forward, trying to look right at you. “I know Sana has been excited about this for quite a while.”

“Oh,” was all you could say, as Sana pulled away from you, a blush coating her cheeks.

“We knew this was coming,” the profile Dahyun said, “but I think this is the first child in our little group—hello!”

Your son perked up as all attention was on him. “Hello!”

He was readying himself to be asked questions, to share his interest in cooking with a whole new group of people, though the conversation switched again.

“He’s not the first child, we have children too,” Momo whined. “Look, Boo and Dobby are here.”

And then she continued to make the most obnoxious noise to call over her dogs.

“You did not just compare an adorable kid to your feral dogs,” said the person next to Momo, even though they reached out to a dog themself and picked one up. “I’m sorry for this one, kid.”

Your son didn’t seem to mind, instead, he was absolutely taken with the two dogs in the hands of the couple.

“Then, I guess I have children too,” someone from the profile Choi Tzuyu said and called over another dog too.

“Oh, Tzuyu, you’re back home?” someone asked and once again, the conversation changed.

Smiling at the sight, you were content with just seeing Sana interact with her friends. She’d been pretty adamant about staying with you for this Christmas, and she’d mentioned how horrid the one before had been. It was the reason this group had decided to call this time around.

Then out of the blue, Jihyo asked. “So when is the wedding?”

“Why are you asking? So you can bring that plus-one of yours from last time?”

The call erupted again.

“Right, right, how long are you just going to be attending weddings? When are you going—”

“Jeongyeon, I’m going to stop you right there, you’re giving me traumatic flashbacks to my mom,” Jihyo said, holding up her hands. “And, that plus-one was a one-time thing, I’ll probably never see them again.”

“They’ll probably be there for Sana’s wedding, let's be honest,” even the slightest mention of your wedding had you sweating. Sana seemed to notice.

Muting yourself, Sana turned to you. “They’re going to go at this for a while, thanks for agreeing to meet them… they’re basically family to me.”

“Yeah, no, of course,” you said, placing a quick kiss on her cheek. You ignored the one who whistled again. You were muted, not off-camera. You tried not to display your embarrassment. “I’ll get this one ready for bed then.”

Your son was pouting, but Sana just nodded. “I’ll finish up this call, and we can finish up your favourite chapter.”

At that, your son’s smile returned.

“Come on,” you said, picking him up and giving him a boost to land across the couch. You took the empty mug from Sana’s hand and left as she re-entered the conversation as if her little pause never occurred.

“Mina! Ask Mina, she’s single too—!”

“But we’re here to talk about you, Jihyo—!”

“What do you mean? You just got engaged!”

Their voices faded with every step you took away from Sana, your son in tow.

Maybe it was the end of the year, maybe it was the communal holiday spirit, but every Christmas, you found yourself reminiscing about past memories. Watching your son take his first steps, to watching him become confident in his own skin, you were glad he was surrounded by people who loved him as much as you did. And now, that permanently included Sana. These holidays have changed so many things, all of which you were so deeply grateful for.

Surged with a wave of emotion upon reaching the threshold of your childhood bedroom, and unable to suppress your elation, you grabbed your son by the hips and lifted him into the air. You were sure the sound of his surprised giggles would stay imprinted in your mind for many more Christmases to come.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: first and foremost, i am so very sorry dear anon for getting this to you almost two fucking years later ;-; and second, happy percy jackson day !!

tagging: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

#mala's collection #sanccharine #sana x reader #twice x reader #sana imagines #twice imagines #sana fluff #single parent au #christmas au #blueberry muffins

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destieltropecollection · 28 days

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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 27: Single Parent AU

Lavender Fireflies | @casblackfeathers Rating: Explicit Word Count: 28,573 Main Tags/Warnings: modern setting, summer camp, single parents, strangers to lovers, two-person love triangle, mutual pining, misunderstandings, bottom!dean, fluff, light angst with a happy ending Summary: Lavender Fireflies Camp is possibly Castiel’s final chance to mend his troubled relationship with his daughter. After an ugly divorce and a nine-to-five job that only further distanced him from Claire, his sister — Anna — suggests spending two weeks camping with Claire. Castiel sees this as his opportunity to bring his daughter closer to him. He had not anticipated meeting a charming firefighter, Dean, on the first day and becoming instantly enchanted by him. Still, Castiel can’t help but feel disappointed when Dean seems to change his mind about them. Usually, the hippy, kumbaya shit that Sammy digs so much is a hard pass for Dean. But coming to Lavender Fireflies Camp wins big brownie points for allowing him to spend time with his brother and his daughter Emma. The last thing Dean expects to happen is to find sex on a stick and everything his dreams are made of in the guy with messy dark hair and blue-as-fuck eyes he meets there. Dean is immediately smitten. Too bad that being a jump-the-gun kinda guy, the first thing Dean assumes is that the redhead camping with Cas is his wife. Then he makes everything a fuckton more complicated for everyone, y’know, Winchester style.

The Single Dad's Guide to Dating a Spy | @friendofcarlotta Rating: Explicit Word Count: 29,534 Main Tags/Warnings: Kid Fic, Single Parent Castiel, Government Agent Dean Winchester, Telemarketer Castiel, Accountant Castiel, Castiel is Claire Novak's Parent, Romantic Comedy, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Light Dom/sub Undertones Summary: Single father Castiel Novak feels stuck in his dead-end job and the mindless routine of parenting. Everything changes when an early-morning grocery run throws him into the path of Dean Winchester, a government agent whose mission is tangled up with — of all things — Castiel’s dating history.

The Waltz of Shilly-Shallying | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Explicit Word Count: 36,395 Main Tags/Warnings: Veterinarian and Pet Groomer AU, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Single Dad Castiel, Miscommunications, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers Summary: Pet groomer Dean Winchester has had a crush on Castiel Novak, his veterinarian friend, for quite some time now. He’s kindhearted, handsome and a devoted single father to his young, adorable—and quirky—son, Jack. But after a few hints from Dean, the feeling doesn’t appear to be mutual. As for Castiel, Dean has been occupying his thoughts more and more since the summer. Fearing to complicate their friendship, however, Castiel figures it is best for him to put these ideas out of his head, focus on his son (and his very opinionated imaginary friend, Belphegor) and simply remain friends with Dean. That is until they find themselves under the mistletoe.

Reaching Haven | @deanabean Rating: Mature Word Count: 58,044 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Castiel & Jack Kline & Claire Novak, Castiel & Michael & Adam Milligan, Castiel & Kelly Kline (Supernatural), Michael/Adam Milligan, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Single Parent Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel & Kelly Kline Friendship (Supernatural), Castiel Is Jack Kline & And Claire Novak's Parent, Queerplatonic Relationships, Married Michael/Adam Milligan, Castiel & Adam Milligan Friendship, Castiel & Claire Novak are Siblings, Toddler Jack Kline, Claire Novak is a pre-teen, Castiel is a Novak (Supernatural), Queer Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel-centric (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Human, Grief/Mourning, Family Feels, F Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Kid Fic, Past Lydia (Supernatural: Slice Girls)/Dean Winchester Summary: “What?” “You know you’re a terrible liar, kiddo.” He isn't… Or at least he hasn’t been. Castiel has always known how to maintain a lie, even against himself. But right at this moment, he isn't lying. He’s not even attempting to lie. He truly feels fine. mostly. He tells them just that. “I really am, though. I'm fine. I’m–” Even better. He even feels— “‘m great.” Or; Single parent Castiel struggling to navigate; raising both his baby son, Jack. His now orphaned 13-year-old baby sister, Claire. While attempting to side-step his distant yet controlling and manipulative grandparents. All that is on top of moving to a new city he doesn't know anybody there except his Uncle Michael, a man he rarely was in contact with. While dealing with the crushing grief. Most of all, Castiel is trying to keep his head above water.

Transfered To You | Joysprings (AO3) Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 69,989 Main Tags/Warnings: Single Parent Dean Winchester, Meet Cute, Grief, Light Angst, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Tattoo Artist Castiel, Artist Castiel, Emma Winchester, Found Family, Cas Is A Cat Dad, Dadstiel, Homophobia, Homophobic language, Summary: Single dad Dean Winchester Works at Singers Auto. There just so happens to be another shop called Singers in the area. Sure one of them is a Mechanics while the other is Tattoo's and Piercing, but apparently people still fuck up and call the wrong Singer's on a daily basis. Dean usually isn't in charge of phones at the auto shop but ends up having to transfer a call, thus meeting Castiel Shurley. He hasn't wanted to date since the death of his wife but that may be about to change.

Nuclear’s Not The Only Option | @three-cake-sandwich Rating: Mature Word Count: 221,462 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternative universe - human, alternative universe - small town, domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, kid Sam Winchester, kid Jack Kline, kid fic, Christian Castiel, autistic Castiel, autistic Jack Kline, non verbal Jack Kline, domestic fluff, homophobic language, atheist Dean Winchester, slow burn, implied/referenced sex, explicit language, American Sign Language, found family, friends to lovers, past abuse, grief/mourning, porn watching, non explicit sex, hurt/comfort, humor, religious fanaticism, Castiel is Jack Kline’s parent Summary: When Dean's parents die unexpectedly, he is forced to leave behind his playboy life in California to look after his little brother in The Middle of Nowhere, Kansas. While juggling new parenthood and nosey neighbors with judging glares, he meets an anti-social man with a mysterious past that he can't help but feel drawn to. Can the two of them overcome the small-town gossip and live happily ever after or will long-buried secrets tear them apart?

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2024 #destiel #fanfic #supernatural #single parent au

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milkydough · 10 months

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A new au where Ghost and Soap have a kid together but neither of them can remember what happened that night and now they meet by total accident!

#cod mw2 fanart #cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod #ghost x soap #soapghost #modern warfare ii #kate laswell #captain price #cod nikolai #kyle garrick #Simon Ghost Riley‘s family #single parent au

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larissel · 2 months

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#bg3 #shadowzel #shadowheart #lae'zel #single parent au #i need that single parent au where once shadowheart finally meets lae'zel #she's all like 'okay i get it now'#not saying lae'zel would be a bad parent #bc clearly #she's not #and even in the game it shows she's caring and is raising xan right #wanting him to choose his own path #but she's also young too #so in this au she would be a young single parent as well

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f1-disaster-bi · 15 days

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Have you got any Dando ideas? Kisses All Over 🩵

Oooo this is giving me an idea for Single Parent au

Lando could hear his daughter creeping down the hallway from her room to theirs. Her little feet made soft noises against the wooden floor as Lando cracked open his eyes to check the clock facing him.

Daniel was still fast asleep beside him. His face buried halfway into his pillow. His curls were messed, and soft snores escaped him as he slept on. He was on his stomach, one hand tucked under a pillow and the other had been curled over Lando’s hip until he had turned to look at his fiancé.

Lando contemplated waking him as he reached out to brush his fingers over the messy curls, but he resisted as he heard Eloise giggle outside the door.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then a little head peaked after it was opened a crack.

Lando put his finger finger to his lips, shushing her giggles silently as Eloise nodded. He watched fondly as she tiptoed across the room until she reached him, climbing up into his lap and Lando helped her.

Eloise didn't say anything for a moment. She simply snuggled into Lando's arms, yawning as quietly as she could as Lando rubbed her back. Just like Lando, Eloise wasn't much of a morning person as she slumped against him with her eyes closed and a smile on her face.

Lando couldn't resist brushing her own set of messy curls from her face to kiss her forehead, and for a moment, it reminded him of when she was a baby. It reminded him of all the nights he rocked her in his arms and pressed gentle kisses to her little face to get her to sleep or calm down.

He loved watching her grow, but sometimes he missed when she was so small he could carry her carefully in his arms.

"Can we wake Dan?", Eloise whispered, still a little to loudly but she was getting better at it.

Lando looked over at Daniel and had to hide his grin because Daniel was very much awake. His fiancé was trying to pretend at sleep. His snores a little too exaggerated. His grin a little too aware to be asleep but Lando played along.

"How should we wake him, sweetpea?", Lando whispered as he tapped a finger against his chin before grinning, "Should we tickle him? Or should we give him a lot of kisses?"

"Both!", Eloise giggled excitedly, "I wanna tickle"

Lando just nodded, letting her crawl out of his lap as Daniel pretended to roll over in his sleep. He let out a big, loud, fake snore to sell it that had Eloise giggling, and Lando had to bite his cheek to stop himself running it as she moved into position.

Lando shifted around too, making sure he could place a few kisses across Daniel's forehead and cheeks before Eloise started to tickle his ribs. Daniel pretended to wake up slowly, making soft noises before his nose scrunched up and his eyes shot open as Eloise burst into laughter at the exaggerated look on Daniel’s face.

"Are you tickling me?", Daniel gasped, hand on his chest, and Lando couldn't help but burry his laughter in Daniel's shoulder, placing soft kisses across the tan skin before he was being shoved away gently, "Oh I'm going to get you!"

Eloise’s laughter filled the room as she tried to scramble away but Daniel stopped her. His hands going to her sides and tickling her as she squirmed in his lap until her cheeks were pink.

"Papa, stop! It tickles", Eloise gasped out, and Daniel froze in shock because Eloise had never called him that before.

His brown eyes were swirling with emotions as he blinked down at Eloise who was still laughing, and when he looked at Lando, Lando had to wrap his arms around him because he knew Daniel had wanted this. He'd have never asked for it, for Eloise to call him Dad in any form, but he had wanted it.

"Are you okay, Papa?", Eloise asked after a moment as she placed a little hand on Daniel's cheek.

Lando pressed a reasuring kiss to Daniel's shoulder.

"Yeah, monkey", Daniel managed to choke out, "Papa’s never been happier"

#single parent au #single dad au #eloise #dando #daniel/lando #lando/daniel #fic prompt #prompt

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silverstudios · 19 days

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6 children=6 little veldiguns

So- based on that silly idea I had earlier- I drew what each 6 of them would like like.

These are rough and will likely change based on feedback and the like, but I got them down and that is good. Lewis and Ashley are my current favorite designs.

#silver rambles #doai sitcom au #the six children #single parent au #My hand hurts after this but it was worth it #Also I noticed three of them have tails and three of them don't #veldigun

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lily-blue · 2 months

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

☆ characters: potter!joshua & single-mom!you (Seori - ‘94 liner) ☆ genre: coffee shop au, single parent au, slice of life, angst, fluff ☆ warnings: distorted views on single parenthood, mental health issues ☆ summary: after you become a single mom, you think relationships are off the table; too bad your daughter doesn’t agree with you ☆ words: 21k ☆ taglist: @dat-town

➼ chapter index

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stepped aside to give room for the next customer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘This shop isn’t my workplace.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I…’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why was he so nice to you?

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

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

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

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

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

You rushed up to the duo like a madwoman.

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Thank you, but I really shoul—,’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which reminded you of…

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

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

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

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

She was definitely spending too much time with her aunt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Take it! Take it! You big liar!’

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

You hated only a few things less than misunderstandings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yeah, but…’

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

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

Except…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scolded yourself mentally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘There.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was serious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Bad word!’

From the top of her lungs.

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

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

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

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

Children.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You needed some fresh air.

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

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

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

Centuries.

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

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

Or maybe you just weren’t listening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or the noises that were coming from the kitchen.

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

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

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

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

You let out a resigned sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A thousand times yes.

➼ extra topping

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

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mingigoo · 2 years

Text

Midnight Kisses || j.wy || (m.) || Part One

Part One ⇢ sexy milf

🍓 pairing ⇢ best friend! Wooyoung x single parent! (fem) reader x new flame! San

↳ you weren’t sure how well you could raise your daughter as a single mother, but your best friend, Wooyoung, has been there every step of the way with no strings attached. When you decide that it’s time to try and date again, he realizes too late that his love for you doesn’t just stop at friendship.

🍓genre ⇢ single parent au, bakery au, best friends to lovers, smut, fluff, slight angst

🍓 warnings/tags ⇢ this story is 18+, minors dni, talk of death (I’m sorry seonghwa ) relationship trauma, parenting, unrequited love but not at the same time, pining, single parent, loss, learning to love again, wooyoung is a total sass queen, wooyoung as a babysitter/wannabe father, San is a gentleman

🍓word count ⇢ 5.5k

🍓 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @wubbster @spiderrenjunfics

Midnight kisses masterlist

nabi / 나비. Meaning: Butterfly

It's the midnight kisses that you miss the most. The way he used to look at you—his eyes threatening you without words. He’d kiss you, you’d kiss him, and then you would fall asleep in the comfort of his embrace.

The thing is, there was no more him.

He was gone. Only a thought in your mind and a still image in pictures. Sometimes you wondered if you imagined the whole thing—as if there wasn't a product of your love right here next to you.

It all felt like a dream and a nightmare collided, and you were in the midst of the wreckage. Similar to a hurricane, you were stuck after the damage, and it was only you. It was all on you to pick up the pieces and build back up from the tethered mess you once called a home.

Your three year old daughter—the product of said love—laid on your bed as if she never got sleep in her entire short life. She looked like him; smiled like him. You didn't think you could ever love again. Three years later, he was still here, but not the way you wanted him to be.

“Nabi,” you shook her shoulder softly, watching her let out a snore. You didn't want to budge her, but it was getting late. She needed to go to bed. “Baby, it’s bedtime, okay?”

Nabi groaned cutely, her pigtails all messed up and stray hairs stranded around her round face. She was only three years young, but had the attitude of someone your age.

She was too cute to move, you couldn't even budge her after she cuddled up into your pillow. “Fine, you can sleep here, again.”

Nabi resembled Seonghwa in more ways than one. Her eyes sparkled just like his, and it used to make you emotional. He never got to meet his daughter before he left, and now, every time you see her eyes sparkle, you smile instead of cry.

Maybe—just maybe—it was time for you to move on.

—

“Here you go, one strawberry cake and a coffee,” you smiled at the customer in front of you, who seemed to ignore your friendliness. “Thank you, please come again!”

The woman took the box of cake from you and walked out without a word.

“Ah, rough day” you sighed, wiping your floury hands onto your beige apron that had some marker stains from your daughter’s creative mind.

The bakery was quiet today. As the day neared it Only a few people were scattered around in the seats, and it reminded you of the time when you first opened. It was a bit after Seonghwa passed, and you just couldn't get his words out of your mind. He always wanted you to live your dreams and open up the bakery you wanted, so of course, that was one of the first things you did.

Just as the silence almost settled, a loud, bellowing voice came from the door as it chimed.

“Yo! y/n, i’m here with the baby,” your best friend hooted, carrying your daughter in his arms. His hair stood out from everything, the light blond streaks complimenting his dark brown hair. “Wanna say hi to mommy?” he looked at your beaming child.

She always loved him.

“Wooyoung,” you breathed, a smile reaching your lips. You looked over at the happy boy you called your best friend, taking notice of his bright smile. “How was she today? Any issues? Did she try to bite you again?”

He walked around the counter, a goofy expression on his features as he set Nabi down.

“C’mon, I don't mind the biting. It's kinda soothing, actually,” he giggled. “Like chicken noodle soup for the soul.”

You swatted him on the shoulder as he giggled at your reaction. He then bent down to Nabi’s height to fix the stray hairs that were in front of your eyes. “Right? There's nothing wrong with a little biting, huh?”

Nabi smiled at Woo, letting out a giggle as she formed her words. “Yes, biting is fun,” she radiated, unable to look away from him. He couldn't look away from her either, and poked her nose playfully.

“That’s right, my butterfly.”

You looked around to see the remainder of people leaving. It was nearing four o’clock—closing time. You let wooyoung play with your daughter while you walked over to the window to flip the open sign to closed.

“I want a cupcake,” Nabi cried out, looking at wooyoung like she couldn't live without it. “Tell mommy to get me the cupcake.”

That’s when you and Woo met eyes. He scoffed at her words, winking at you like his usual flirty self. You had to be careful, though, because you were already certain that Nabi thought Wooyoung was her dad.

Not that there's anything wrong with that. He was the only one that acted like one. It was your own fault for not finding a man suitable enough to fill in seonghwa’s place as a father, but then again, he was never there for the time. You couldn't prevent his accident, so why did you blame yourself for everything?

Wooyoung noticed your distress from across the room.

He always noticed the little things. The type of things you would disregard, he would prioritize.

“y/n,” he called, lifting Nabi up in his arms to walk over to you. He handed her over to you gently, as if she were made of glass. “What’s going on in that crazy head of yours?” he asked, but he knew exactly what it was.

You sighed, but immediately put on a smile for your daughter. “Nothing much, only about getting a cupcake for my sweetie.”

He tilted his head as you spoke, staring at you intently.

His worry was gone, at least visibly, when his lips began to curl up in a smirk. “Oh? So I'm your sweetie now? I’ve been craving your cupcake, you know?” he raised his eyebrows, and once again, you slapped him on the shoulder.

“He wants your cupcake mommy,” Nabi pointed at a devious wooyoung, and you had to hold in your chuckle. You know damn well wooyoung wasn't saying that he wanted a cupcake, it was more code word for something sexual—at least in the woo language. He always said things that made no sense, but it always made you smile.

After getting Nabi’s desired cupcake (and wooyoung’s, too) you began to clean up around the bakery cafe. Since there wasn't much business today, there wasn't much to clean up from. After wiping down the tables while wooyoung sat with Nabi, you finished up everything, only to look over at them.

She was sleeping in his arms, her head leaned up against his chest. Some chocolate was stuck on both woo’s and her lips.

“Look at you too,” you chuckled, walking over to them. Wooyoung smiled at you as you neared, and as you wiped away the chocolate from your daughter’s lips, he didn't expect you to lift your fingers to the corners of his lips. “It’s as if she’s your daughter, you're so similar.”

Time froze for him. His eyes followed yours as his breath got caught in his throat. Maybe it was the way he was holding your sleeping daughter as if she was her own, but his heart pounded as the pads of your fingers brushed against his lips.

“There, you had more chocolate on you than the three year old, dumb ass,” you provoked him.

He took a second to gain back his usual self. Scoffing, he raised his eyebrows at you. “You sure you just didn't want to touch my lips? You could've just asked, baby,” he smirked flirtatiously. You never knew when he was serious.

You rolled your eyes and walked away from them and back to the counter to take out the money from the register. After you finished, you took a peek at your best friend, who was smiling down at your daughter as she snored.

You grinned.

After sliding off your apron and undoing your hair, you had a sudden thought. “Oh shit, I forgot about the boxes.”

Wooyoung’s ears perked up. “Boxes? What boxes?”

You sighed, and bent down the root under the counter where you left the boxes of, well, other boxes. You needed to put all the to-go boxes together by tonight so you had some for tomorrow.

“The to-go boxes. I ran out today and forgot to do them. I’ll have to take them home with me,” you groaned while wooyoung dazed off.

He stood up, fixing his grip on the sleeping butterfly. “How many boxes do you have?” he wondered out loud, walking over to you on the other side of the counter.

You piled four boxes on top of each other. “Um, like four. Five. Actually, it's five.”

“I’ll help you.”

You shook your head, lifting the boxes up onto the counter. “No, it’s fine, woo. I’ll just stay up late.”

He scoffed. “Come on, cupcake. I’ll be super fast at building the boxes. You know how good I am with my hands,” he teased like his usual flirty self.

You were so numb to his antics from being next to each other since middle school. He always flirted with you, but you always assumed it was just how he was—since he flirted with anyone else, man or woman.

After a little debate in your head about accepting help, you sighed, giving in to his charm.

“Fine. Come over then. I’m sure Nabi would be happy.”

—

You met wooyoung on the three hundredth day of the year. The leaves were barren on the trees, all resting on the sidewalks, vulnerable from the footsteps of people who disregarded their death.

He sprinted past you on that day as you walked to school, those very leaves crunching underneath his beat-up sneakers, no school jacket and a t-shirt visible under his uniform. His hair was messy and his mouth was even messier with all that smart talk.

As he ran, he wasn't paying attention. He smacked into you, causing you both to tumble onto the ground. He landed on top of you, scrapes visible on his elbows from the fall. He stared down at you in lovestruck middle-school-ness, lost in the anger of your eyes.

“You should watch where you’re going,” he said, still on top of you.

“I should be saying that to you, idiot.”

You told yourself you should hate him. You should, after his rudeness after running you over. But still, your little heart fluttered slightly. You mistook it as a side effect from the shitty breakfast your mother made you, but after that day, Wooyoung became glued to your bruised hip.

—

“Stop, you're doing it wrong.”

“How? It's just a box, how can I be doing it wrong?”

“You do everything wrong.”

You were scolding Wooyoung as he folded the box wrong for the fifth time. He just sat and smiled at your irritation—any reaction from you made him happy. It meant that he had an effect on you in some way, at least.

“You're supposed to fold it the opposite way, dammit.”

Nabi was in the living room of your decent sized apartment—courtesy of Seonghwa's income. He made decent money from the job he had, and left you everything he had. You didn't want the money or anything, you only wanted him back. It’s kind of funny how life works, it never ends up the way you want it.

You heard her giggling at the tv as you put on her favorite idol group. She had a thing for the loud ones.

Maybe that’s why she loves wooyoung so much.

“Is this right?” he asked you softly, and the tone of his voice made you think he was being serious. He did have it right this time, at least.

You nodded, offering him a smile as you finished another box. You were nearly done thanks to Woo’s help, even if it was a bit half-assed. Time moved fast, and it was Nabi’s bedtime already.

“I have to go put Nabi to bed, can you finish them?” you asked him, pointing to the boxes on your kitchen table.

Before you moved, wooyoung stood up quickly. “No, I'll put her to bed. You finish them, okay cupcake?” he winked at you, and before you could put up a fight, he was already over in the living room.

“Let’s go, Nabi. it’s bedtime,” he cooed, grabbing her little hand before reaching for the tv remote. He shut the tv off, causing Nabi’s attention to move to him. She would always put up a fight when it’s time for bed, but for some reason, if it was woo, she would go down so easily.

He walked past you as nabi followed him. He gave you a smirk before disappearing into your daughter’s room. Thank god you had him, huh.

As you finished the boxes while Woo read Nabi a bedtime story, you started to think about your future. You wanted Nabi to grow up with a father figure. You wanted that for her, at least. You wanted the feeling of falling in love again, knowing that Seonghwa was never returning. He used to tell you to continue to open your heart up to others, but all this time you found it difficult. You avoided dates and men in general, afraid to get attached to someone who could leave. You completely overlook wooyoung everytime, as he was the only one who ever stayed next to you no matter what.

It was time to fall in love again.

Well, at least to try.

As you finished the last box, Wooyoung came back into the kitchen and took a seat on the chair.

“She really loves the very hungry caterpillar. It’s literal poetry, she has such good taste,” he chuckled to himself, running a hand through his silky hair.

You didn't say anything. You were too busy thinking about what you were going to do.

“You alright there?” he asked you, leaning over the table to get closer to you. His eyes sparkled mischievously until he noticed the austere look on your face. “What’s wrong?”

You sighed, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve just been thinking,” you carried on, putting your face in your hands.

“About what?” he asked you, his eyes frantically searching yours. “About…seonghwa?”

“No, no it’s not about him,” you chuckled nervously, lost in your thoughts. “Well, in a way, but not exactly.”

He stared at you attentively. “Tell me, If it's about hyung then how bout we go visit him? We can bring his favorite flowers and stuff. If it's not about him then i’ll help you—”

“I’m gonna date again,” you blurted out without even thinking. You weren't sure how he would react to your sudden idea, knowing that he was super protective over you and Nabi.

Wooyoung stared at you with wide eyes, feeling as if someone ripped his heart out. “W-what? Dating?”

You couldn't meet his gaze. “Um, yeah. I feel like it’s the right time,” you nodded, standing up to give yourself some busywork before getting confused with his answer. You didn't need his permission, but you wanted to hear his opinion.

“Are…are you ready for that?” he swallowed hard, standing up with you and following you into the kitchen. “I just don't want you meeting someone who could hurt you…”

I don't want you dating anyone, he thought. He didn't say it.

He wished he did.

“It's the first time I really felt this way after all these years. I should take this as a sign, I guess.” you shrugged, reaching up to the top cabinet to grab some whiskey.

He nodded, unable to break your words apart. If you were saying them, that means you meant them. “Okay,” he smiled, hiding his messy thoughts he didn't understand.

“I’m gonna start tomorrow.”

That’s when he couldn't keep his mouth shut. “What?!” he choked on his words. “Tomorrow? Don't you think that's a little soon?”

You shook your head, pouring yourself a glass of the liquor. “No, my mom set me up on a blind date. I might as well test the waters.”

He sighed, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it. It wasn't his place to control you, and you certainly deserve your freedom. Wooyoung thought this feeling for you was pure sympathy for a friend as he worried about you falling in love with someone else, but the ache in his heart said otherwise.

“Just be careful,” he needed to lighten up the mood. “You may fall in love with a gumiho. Or worse, a vampire that will suck your blood and kill you and burn you alive and shit—”

“Ah, shut up you idiot,” you rolled your eyes playfully, unable to notice his worry.

He knew at that moment, even if he wanted your happiness, he couldn't let it happen if the man wasn't him. In a platonic way, of course….

This is war.

—

You met seonghwa on the tenth day of university a few years back. He was a year older; a year of knowledge ahead of a young freshman like you. Wooyoung was a year behind you in school, so while you were thriving in college, he was sitting alone at a desk with a frown.

You met your past lover in the library. He sat with a pair of thin rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose, his hands in his jet-black hair as he aggressively tried to fill his brain with useless knowledge. You sat across from him, admiring his efforts. It made you wonder about his studies, and why he seemed so serious.

After you introduced yourself anxiously using the excuse of not knowing where the study rooms were, he took you to the second floor. You frantically asked for his name as he walked away, and he offered you a smile as he told you it.

After that day, you met him in the library again. This time, you sat next to him. You noticed the cover of the text he was reading— “adolescent psychology.” somehow, it made sense for someone like him. While you ditzed around with a culinary major, he was out there cramming medical terms and things you couldn't even pronounce.

He looked at you then. When he smiled, you knew he was the one for you. He had to be.

As the months passed, you ended up making out in his dorm room, drunk out of your mind and drunk on him. He made love to you after nearly breaking his glasses on his face, kissing you as the clock struck midnight.

Ever since that night, friends became lovers.

But those lovers only lasted a few years, when it abruptly ended with death as the leaves died, too.

—

“You sure you’ll be alright with Nabi, right?” you frantically asked Wooyoung. It was the next day, and you were waiting on your date to come and pick you up. You ended up closing shop for the day, even with all the hard work of making boxes. You felt that it was unfair for wooyoung to watch both Nabi and the bakery at the same time.

Wooyoung ended up staying over—as he always does—and as you walked out into the living room, you saw his eyes widen at your appearance. “What? Do I look bad?”

He stared at you, eyes raking over your bare legs and subtle cleavage. You never dressed up, at least not for the past three years. Who could blame him when his best friend looked like a goddamn model. “Fuck, y/n—”

You gave him the death stare as he cursed in front of the butterfly.

“Fu..dge, y/n, you look hot as hell,” he tsked, leaning back on the couch as Nabi played with her toys on the floor—toys that wooyoung got her.

“Okay, good. That was my intention. I’m not used to looking like….”

“What? A sexy milf? Well you hit it right on the nose, you sexy thing,” his eyes fluttered as he oogled you, and you paid no mind to his flirting again. You were sure he was just trying to make you feel good. He stood up then, and walked over to you. He looked at you up and down, letting out a whistle.

“So San will like this, you think?” you took notice of how Woo’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to touch you.

He did.

He reached out to run a hand through your hair, his other hand resting on your hip. “Oh, yeah. Whoever San is, he’s a lucky guy. Meow—”

“Don't ever do that again,” you said, disgusted, and slapped his hand away from your waist. “Okay, you know the drill with Nabi. make sure she gets a bath tonight if I don't come home.”

“Oh you bet—wait, what?” his eyes widened, and this time, not at your body. “You won't be coming home?”

You walked over to the door to slide on your heels that were only worn once. “Well, yeah. If it goes well.”

Something about that infuriated Wooyoung. As if you weren't allowed to stay over anyone’s house other than his own. So he was just the babysitter to you? To be fair, he had no reason to be upset. This was his own problem and he knew it.

“I hope he’s a terrible guy,” he grumbled under his breath, walking over to you just as the doorbell rang.

“Oh, it must be San.”

“Oh it must be San,” he mocked you under his breath again.

You opened the door to reveal a gorgeous man who stood tall. His eyes met yours the minute the door opened, and a smile reached his eyes. “Hi, y/n,” his voice was smooth like butter.

“Hi San, it’s nice to finally meet you,” you said shyly, trying to hide your anxiousness. Wooyoung came up from behind you, an intense look on his face as he stared down the man in front of him.

San frowned slightly, but smiled at you. “Who’s this?” he asked you, still staying behind the barrier of the entrance.

Wooyoung didn't say anything. He just scoffed and slid his hand down your waist to fix the hem of your dress. It was exaggerated, totally, but he kept his gaze on san as he touched you. “Your dress was rolled up, cupcake,” he said sweetly while you glared at him.

“Oh, this is Wooyoung. My best friend,” your glare changed to a smile the minute you met eyes with San. “forgive him, his love language is apparently touch.”

“Hmph,” Woo mumbled, rolling his eyes.

San nodded slowly, an unsure expression on his face. “Ah, I see. It’s nice to meet you, Wooyoung.”

When Woo didn't respond, you elbowed him in the rib until he let out a cry of pain. “Ow–Oh, yeah, sure. Nice to meet you too, Stan.”

“It’s San.”

Wooyoung looked him up and down. “Yeah, alright, whatever….Stan.”

You rolled your eyes at the boy you called your best friend, about to make another excuse for him until Nabi grabbed onto Wooyoung’s leg.

“Who are you?” she questioned San from Woo’s leg, her tiny hands gripping onto his sweatpants. “Are you a stranger?”

San smiled down at her, giving you a soft smile before bending down to her view. “No, don't worry sweetie. I know your mom,” he ruffled Nabi’s hair, to which she backed away slightly and looked up to Wooyoung. She got the nerves from you, clearly.

Wooyoung picked your daughter up with a playful noise, bouncing her on his hip as she laughed.

“She’s a little shy,” you excused her behavior, biting your tongue on anything else. “I’m sure my mom told you all about Nabi, huh?”

He nodded, and you noticed how white his teeth were as he smiled. His hair was the same color as wooyoung’s, but without the rebellious streaks. “Not everything, but enough. I know what I'm getting into,” he laughed slightly, and you took it as a note to leave the house.

“Alright, well, i guess we’ll get going,” you looked over to wooyoung, who was giving the dirtiest look to San. “woo, take care of my baby, okay?”

“Mhmm,” he hissed, walking away from you both to go into the kitchen. “Aye Aye, Captain.” he waved you off.

You walked over to them to give a kiss to your daughter, who giggled under your touch. Wooyoung glanced down at you, a frown apparent on his usually smiling lips. “Where’s my kiss?” he asked you, but it didn't seem as playful as usual. You ignored it, giving him a sharp glare.

“Stop it, don't be mean to him, too,” you whispered aggressively, giving one last smile to Nabi before walking towards the door to San. “I'll see you later, let me know if you have any problems.” you said as you walked out, shutting the door behind you.

“Oh, I have a problem, alright,” he scowled at the closed door, still bouncing Nabi.

“A big problem.”

—

You sat in front of San at a fancy restaurant. It wasn't too bad, he was a friendly face for you. He held the door open for you, pulled back your chair, poured your glass of wine, and even listened to you like you were the most knowledgeable person in the world.

As you ate, you tried to be as classy as possible after knowing that he came from a rich family. He was some director at a company or something, you didn't know the details, but from what your mom said about him, he was sitting on money. You came from a decent family with an average income, but your mom had an in for absolutely anything. She knew everyone, so of course that meant you had to be with the best of the best.

San coughed anxiously, his eyes looking down as he addressed the elephant in the room. “Um, is that…Wooyoung always like that?” he asked you, his eyes meeting yours. “I’m not trying to intrude your private life, but he just seems a bit—”

“Touchy? Invasive? Flirty?” you sighed, taking a sip of your red wine. “Yeah. he’s been like that since the day I met him.”

“Ah, Okay. So he doesn't have feelings for you or anything?”

You scoffed, nearly snorting the wine up your nose. You looked around as you gained new attention from all the rich bitches around you, and then looked to san, who was trying to hold in his laugh.

“No, god no!” you waved your hands to express your words. “He’s just like that. He’d literally hump a rock if it moved. He’s just a little amorous, so to say.”

San laughed at your words, letting loose at your comfort. “Oh, thank god. Because I really like you, y/n. I think we could become something good,” his brown hair was eye-catching enough, but as he said those words and ran a hand through it, it made you want to run your own hands through it.

You finished your meal as you exchanged quick glances and small smiles. He was nice; you liked him. He made you feel comfortable and beautiful, and as you left the restaurant, he helped you into the passenger side of his sleek car. He got into the driver's seat, and before you could buckle yourself, he reached over to buckle you.

He smelled sweet and woodsy at the same time, like a daydream in a garden. You held your breath as his face neared yours, and as his eyes met yours, you saw yourself in the reflection of his pupils.

He moved away then, placing his hands on the wheel nervously. He didn't start the car yet, as both your minds wandered on what to do next.

“So, where to–”

“Can we go–”

You both spoke at the same time, causing laughter to erupt. “Go ahead,” you signaled him with a smile.

“No, you go,” he swallowed nervously, stealing a glance at you while you began to talk.

“Can we…go to yours?” you asked him, fiddling with your fingers in your lap as you awaited his answer.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat, turning towards you. “You want me to take you…to my place?”

“Yeah.”

He swallowed hard, leaning towards you slightly. “Does that mean….”

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you need to—”

“I’m sure,” you looked into his dark eyes, pulling a smile to your lips. You weren't sure if you were tossing yourself into something you weren't ready for. Who knows, you haven't gotten laid for years now. San was the type of guy who would stop if you needed to. You felt safe.

San leaned over the armrest, his hand sliding to cup your cheek. You looked into his eyes once more, seeing the sincerity in them. You wanted to kiss him. You were going to kiss him.

When his breath hit your lips, the next thing you knew was the way he tasted. You could taste the bitterness of the wine on his soft lips that enveloped your own. It was slow and tender, and his hands cradled your face carefully. It was your first kiss that wasn't with Seonghwa and somehow, it felt okay. Your heart ached slightly as you thought about it, but it went away as one of his hands trailed down to cup your breast.

And just as you were going to go further, your phone rang loudly, interrupting your mind off sex.

San pulled away slowly, his one hand still holding onto your face. With a smile he said, “Go ahead, it might be your daughter.”

You nodded, breaking away from him to pull out your phone. As soon as you saw Wooyoung’s name, your heart began to beat faster. You answered the call as quick as you could. “Is something wrong? Is Nabi okay?”

“Uh,” Woo sighed on the other end. “Where’s the medicine at? I think she might be getting sick…she feels a bit warm.”

Your eyes widened as you looked over to San. “what? She’s sick? She has a really weak immune system, she can't get sick,” you said desperately, meeting san’s worried gaze. “I’ll be right there.”

You hung up, looking over to San with a frown. “I’m sorry, I really wanted to end the night with you, but—”

“Nabi is sick, right? I heard it all,” he smiled at you understandably, and reached to start the car. “It’s alright, as long as I can see you again.”

You nodded as he drove off. “Yes, please. Of course. I need to see you again.” you blushed, your mind worried about little Nabi.

“Tommorrow? The next day? The day after that?” he playfully joked, but you really did want to see him tomorrow.

“Tomorrow? Meet me at the bakery I run?” you asked him shyly, really wanting to keep this thing afloat. “I close at four, want to meet me there after? I’ll bake you a cake…”

He chuckled as he drove, nodding with a smile.

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

—

“Now, remember butterfly,” wooyoung tucked Nabi into bed with a devious smile. “When your mommy comes home, act like you're sick. Blegh cough blegh sick, okay baby?”

Nabi giggled just as micheviously as Wooyoung. She fake coughed, and sniffled, as if she had the IQ of a teenager.

“That’s my girl.”

He quickly shut the light out, making sure the nightlight was on in the corner of the room before leaving the room to lie down on the couch, right on time as you barged into the home.

San was nowhere in sight as you shut the door behind you. You met eyes with Wooyoung, who was sprawled out on the couch. “How was your date?” he asked you, sitting up as you tossed your shoes off quickly.

“Not right now, Woo.” You made your way to your daughter’s room, your heart about to beat out your chest. “Is she alright? Sleeping okay?”

Wooyoung got up and followed you into the room, where Nabi was coughing.

“Oh, baby,” you sighed, turning on the light and rushing over to her. You rested your hand on her small little forehead, feeling relief wash over you as she felt normal. “Okay good, you're not burning up.”

“Cough cough,” she let out, along with a yawn.

You sighed, looking over to Wooyoung. “Did you give her medicine?”

He nodded sheepishly, taking a step backwards towards the door. “Uh, yeah. Listen, I gotta go feed my cat. I’ll see you at the bakery tomorrow, alright?”

He turned on his heel and made his way out the room quickly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his dismissal, looking over at your wide eyed daughter. “He doesn't even have a cat…”

And that’s when it hit you.

Nabi giggled at you, sitting up against her little headboard. “Hi mommy, Woo told me to cough.”

Oh, that little asshole.

“Jung Wooyoung! Get your ass back here!”

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #jung wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #ateez wooyoung #single parent au #best friend #best friends to lovers #bakery au #choi san #love triangle

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call-me-strega · 4 months

Text

How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps: p. 2, ch.2/5(?)

Happy Late Valentine’s Day my dudes.

(This is Unedited, the cleaner version is on ao3)

First, prev, lore, ao3

~~~

It was a week later that Jason ran into his neighbors again. Or well, actually Red Hood ran into them. Then again “ran into” was a bit of a strong (read: inaccurate) description. He had more so observed from afar than ran into them per-say.

He had just landed on a rooftop when heard the sound of increasingly familiar giggles. A cold wind pushed against his helmet as turned to the source. Lo and behold there was the father-daughter heading on the direction of their apartment complex. It was about two blocks from their current location.

‘Well,’ Jason thought. ‘2 blocks off my normal route won’t hurt. I’ll just make sure I see them arrive safely and then continue on with my patrol.’

He watched as Ellie is rushed down the street waving around her toy space shuttle, eager to get home. She ran further ahead from Danny who had his hands full with groceries. He called after her to stay where he could see her and she just giggled and gleefully replied with and “Okay Daddy!”

Jason smiled at their interaction. He felt a sense of comfort and longing seeing such a close and loving pair. However, his smile faded as a pit formed in his gut. His instincts could sense was something off and from the corner of his eye he saw some movement in the alley the Ellie was approaching. As quickly and silently as possible Jason crossed the rooftops to get closer.

Just as Ellie reached the opening of the alley some two-bit thug reached out and pulled her into the alley. The young girl cried out as she dropped her shuttle. She called out to her dad in distress.

“Daddy!”

“ It’ll be okay Ellie! I’m coming! Remember what I told you?!”

Danny called back took of down the road trying to reach his daughter.

This seemed to calm her down as her fear became more manageable. She stop struggling and did her to glared at her would be kidnapper. Jason finally arrive on the roof top ready to drop into the alley and intervene when he witnessed a series of events that stunned him.

Ellie kicked the guy in the nuts with as much force as her little body could muster.

Which appeared to be quite a lot based on the sound that came outa the guy as he let go of her. Just then Danny reached the alley abandoning his groceries by an empty box at the mouth of the alley.

“Ellie!” He exclaimed reach out to gathers her in his arms. He held her tightly and stoked her hair trying to calm her. “ It’s okay baby, I’m here. Daddy’s here Ell. I’m not gonna let anyone take you,” he assured her.

The guy growled as he managed to get back up. He bagan to advance towards them once again with a switch blade in hand this time. Unfortunately for him he didn’t get very far in his plan to use it as Danny reached into his pocket and pulled out some thing labeled “Creep Repellant”. Just as the guy got close Danny pushed Ellie behind him, lifted his arm and maced the guy to distract him. The man cried out in pain and ended up dropping his blade. Then Danny pulled back and clocked the guy in the nose. He stumbled back groaning.

Danny didn’t give him another chance to regain his wits. He just turned, picked up Ellie, and booked it home.

Jason witnessed all of this almost starstruck by the way the how the dad handled himself and his kid. His major priority was making sure Ellie got out of the situation safely even if he had to abandon his groceries and Ellie’s toy to do it. Jason decided to make sure they won’t be followed by this guy. He dropped in and quickly knocked the guy out. Then he zip-tied him to a pipe and called for someone to come pick up guy up before he decided to hand him over to one of his Lieutenants instead. None of them would take to kindly to a potential child trafficker.

Jason walked back to the mouth of the alley and examined the abandoned groceries in the same galaxy-print reusable bags he’d seen Danny use at the store last time. He picked them up, along with the toy space shuttle, and took the back to the apartment complex. He left them in-front of Danny’s door with a note from Jason saying he found them in an alley and believed them to be Danny’s because he recognized the bags and one of the toys Ellie had shown him.

Was it a bit weird? Perhaps, but it could be played off as a coincidence and made more sense than the Red Hood leaving them on the Nightingales’ fire escape.

Later that night Jason’s brain kept replaying the image of a six-year-old kicking a grown man in the balls and her father proceeding to pepper spray and deck the dude. It brought a smile to his face to see that Ellie was well protected and evidently being taught how to protected herself too. He felt his fondness towards them grow once more. (He tried to ignore the part of his brain that kept replayed Danny’s punch and whispered ‘that’s kinda hot’)

~~~

About three days later Jason was driving home from the Wayne Foundation on his bike when his engine started stalling and losing power. He cursed his luck and decided to take a turn to head to his favorite mechanic's shop.

Ol' man Sammy had started the shop when he was still a kid and his grand-nephew Leandro, Leo for short, started working under him when he had just started out as Red Hood. They were good people who didn't mind acting as informants in exchange for Hood's protection. Nor did they mind the Jason Todd-Wayne showing up from time to time. As far as they were concerned he was another alley tyke grown up, now a paying customer and potential investor.

Last he heard from them was a month when Sammy officially passed on the reins to Leo and settled into retirement with his wife Avellana. Word had it Leo had been looking for a new hand around the shop and Jason had sent a couple of guys looking to get out of the henchman business his way knowing if Leo didn't hire 'em he might direct them to a cousin who would. He wondered vaguely if Leo ever did end up hiring someone. 'Well I suppose I'll find out soon enough' he thought pulling up into the workshop.

Jason pulled his helmet off, feeling a fresh breeze hit his face, and called out to the two men he saw working on a truck. One of them was examining something under the hood and the other working on the underside. He tucked his helmet under his arm but didn't get off the bike yet. He called out to the two guys.

"Oy Leo, compa! Is that you?"

The man inspecting the hood pulled his head out and gave Jason an impish grin.

"Oh man, Jasón is that you güey?!" The wiry, oil-slick man came over to greet him. Shaking his hand and pulling him into a half-hug.

" You here to get something fixed man?"

Jason slide off his bike and nodded back at it.

"Engine keeps stalling, I was hoping you could take a look," He then glanced back over to the man still working under the truck. " How's Ol' Sammy doing? I see you got the new hands you were looking for."

Leo grinned back, enthusiastic as ever. "Yeah man, he's new in town but good with his hands and a hard worker. Tio approved of him before he left. He and Tia are on vacation right now, went back to visit her family."

That's when a phone rang in the office. Leo sighed turning to Jason.

" Hey man I gotta take this but the new guy can totally get you set up. I'll be right back."

He turned and called out to the man under the truck "Ay chavo! We got a customer man! Come help 'im out while I get the phone!" before rushing of to the office.

The man finally pulled out from under the car and staring back at him were familiar blue eyes and a face smudged with oil. Danny grinned up at Jason as he began to walk over.

"Well hey there stranger, funny running into you here. Guess you must be friends with Leo and Sammy, huh? A real man of the people you are?"

" Uh, hey," Jason felt himself flush with embarrassment, his hand coming up to scratch his nape. " I mean yeah I guess so. I've known them almost as long as I've been able to walk so..."

" I'd like to thank you."

" Huh?" Jason met his eyes with a confused look.

" For finding and returning my groceries and Ellie's shuttle I mean. I got real lucky you happened to find them, otherwise that'd have half a paycheck down the drain. I'm grateful for what you did."

"It was no big deal," he said glancing away. He looked back to see a soft look on Danny's face.

" It meant a lot to me" he replied softly.

The two gazed into each others eyes for a moment before Danny turned his attention to the bike.

" You said the engine was stalling?"

Jason nodded in reply as Danny began to inspect the vehicle. After few minutes Leo emerged from the office just as Danny gave his verdict.

"It need a couple of new filters and an adjustment of the throttle position sensor and then it should be good as new."

" Perfecto!" Leo exclaimed walking out of the office. "You can handle that while I had out. Some guy in Chinatown needs a tow so I gotta take the tow truck and go."

He turned to address Jason. "You can trust Danny here with the bike, I wouldn't have hired him if he wasn't any good!"

He clapped Jason's shoulder before rushing out to his truck. Jason turned to Danny who shrugged and gave him a helpless grin.

" You got experience handling bikes?" Jason questioned.

" Sure do, I knew this one asshole back home who had a pretty sick ride. I ended making friends with him somehow and he taught me about 'em. I've already worked on a couple for Leo here too." Danny replied before walking over to the register.

" Here, I'll ring up an estimate for you. If you decide to leave her here with me I can have her done in an hour-hour and a half and you can pay when you come to collect her."

Jason decided he was willing to let Danny handle his bike. He figured he could just walk a block and grab some dinner at that Mexican-Caribbean fusion place nearby.

" I'll let you take care of her, like Leo said, he wouldn't have hired you if you weren't any good."

Now it was Danny's turn to flush. He fiddled around at the register before talking to Jason again.

" So can I get your number?"

" Huh-?!" Jason startled. Danny flushed even deeper and pointed at the pen and notepad on the counter.

" For the job! I’ll send you a call or text when it's done!"

Jason's face broke into a wicked grin. "Sure," he teased picking up a pen.

"Here's my work number," he said handing Danny a piece of paper. " And here-," he paused to write another number. "is my personal line. But that ones just for you neighbor. So don't go spreading it around," he winked.

He turned to walk out as he heard Danny spluttering behind him. And despite the expletives Danny called after him, he could do nothing to disguise the fondness in his voice.

Later that evening, Jason rode home on his newly serviced bike. He'd offered to give Danny a ride home but he still had an hour of his shift left and reassured him that he would be fine to make it home by himself. He took not of how well the bike was running. 'Purrs like a kitten' he thought. The voice in the back of his head once again returned to chime in 'Nothing like a man who's competent at his job'. Jason cursed the voice out, revving his bike and ripping down the street.

~~~

A few days couple of days later Jason receives a text:

"Hey its Danny. You run a soup kitchen with the Wayne Foundation right?"

Jason is instantly filled with concern. Did the Nightingales hit a financial pit fall? Was Danny hurt and unable to work? Did that creep stop paying his child support? He quickly wrote back to Danny

"Yeah why?"

"Ellie made friends with another girl in the building whose mom mentioned "soup night" was coming up and she came home and asked me about it.

I'm lucky that Leo pays well and Vlad's got plenty of money to cough up that we don't really have a need to go but I figured this might be a good learning opportunity to help Ellie understand both our and her friends situations.

I was hoping you had room for a few extra volunteers?"

Jason felt his worries melt away, just like his heart.

"We always have room for more volunteers

I'll text you the details"

That following Sunday Jason was organizing volunteers to set up the rec center he'd established last year step up for the soup kitchen. He was directing people with trays of food while his assistant/partner Irene ran through hygiene rules with some of the volunteer servers.

Behind him Jason felt the door open and a refreshing rush of wind filled the air as his newest recruits walked in. The daddy-daughter duo walk up to Jason and Danny gave him a little 2 fingered salute.

" Volunteers Danny and Ell reporting for duty!"

Jason gave them a soft smile.

" Hey guys, it’s nice to see you. This is Irene, my second-in-command. She'll run you through the serving protocols and get you ready to help. Danny you'll probably end up handling food while Ellie takes up resupplying utensils, plates, napkins and bottled drinks."

Danny smiled and ruffled his daughter's hair who giggled enthusiastically with a determined smile on her face.

" I think that'll work for us!" he said, turning to Irene who greeted them with a warm smile and led them over to her section.

About 15 minutes later Irene sidled up to him with a cheeky grin. Informing him he'd left Danny and Ellie with some of the other, more experienced volunteers.

" Sooooooo," Irene wiggled her eyebrows at him.

" Sooooooo- what?" he returned to her with a blank stare.

" When were you gonna tell me you had a crush on your new neighbor!"

Jason's face turned red as two more of their colleagues descent upon Jason having overheard what Irene said. Like sharks to blood in the water he swore.

First John, who was also one of Hood's men, whipped around and exclaimed. "What?! Jason you have a crush on your neighbor! What about Hood?!"

" For the 50th time Johnny, I'm not dating Hood. And its not a crush Irene!" Jason said in exasperation.

That's when Fern, the non-binary rec center manager, popped up behind him and said "What's this about Jason having a crush?"

Jason once again protested futilely that he didn't have a crush while Irene gleefully filled Fern in.

" Jason's totally got the hots for the hot, single, young dad who's volunteering with his daughter tonight! You should have seen how soft his face got when they showed up. And get this! Their actually neighbors and Jason's already been to their house for dinner!"

Fern whistled while Jason spluttered.

" How do you even know about that?!"

" Your crush let it spill while we were making small talk," she shrugged.

Jason groaned. None of them were gonna let this go.

"Come on you guys, its nearly time to start. Go get into your places," he insisted.

They relented but Irene shot him a mischievous look that told him he wouldn’t be escaping their teasing at a later date. Sigh.

Jason took his place in line manning the mashed potatoes. He felt someone nudge his shoulder and turned his head to see Danny standing next to him.

" Irene put me in charge of the green beans"

Oooh Irene we will be having words later!

"- and Ellie's been put on crowd control, which I think is just their way of saying she should take any kids done eating to the other room to play."

He smiled up at Jason, who of course smiled back.

"Lets do this" he said as the doors opened and their night of volunteering began.

It was a busy night so he and Danny didn't have much time to talk, but Jason learned a great deal just by observing. As his night went on he only saw more and more what amazing people the Nightingale's were. Thoughtful and kind without being condescending. Both Danny and Ellie were incredibly compassionate people.

Danny made an effort to be kind to anyone who came up to him and tried to connect with them in order to make them more comfortable. Ellie was a hit with the kids. She was strong-willed, outspoken and quickly took to speaking up for the shyer kids. She ended up amassing a little posse of her own. She made sure all her newfound friends got to try the foods they wanted and to get their turns with the toys in the game room.

As Jason continued to scoop out mashed potatoes and ignore suggestive glances and cheeky smiles from his friend he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and warmth. This was something he built through his efforts to help the Alley and he got to share it with two people he was growing to care about deeply. In turn not only had they shown an interest what he was trying to do here but actively sought to help others with him.

Jason took in the sight of Ellie leading a gang of smiling children. He made another sidelong glance at Danny, who was bonding with a young boy who said the green beans reminded him of a mythological creature. Privately he thought to himself that maybe Irene was on to something with her whole crush theory.

~~~ Thats all for this chapter. I do have some stuff planned for the rest of this section so look forward to that. Once again I welcome any comments or constructive criticism!

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snowflowerthehuman · 6 days

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Hey @silverstudios and @secret-spirit I made fanart of your single parent au.

Uncoloured version under the read more.

#my art #doai sitcom au #single parent au #doai #I headcannon that the veldilings would start to climb Alex after some time of Clyde trusting them

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chaotic-super · 7 months

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For Her Sake - Chapter 18

AO3 link

“Hello, hello.” Lena greets the small group at her door and waves them inside. Winn, Alex, Kara and Lori all pile into her apartment and are ushered into the living room where Sam and Ruby are already waiting in front of a stack of board games, the pair lounging back into the oversized couch.

Kara moves in first, pulling Sam up and into a hug as though she hasn’t just spent several days with her. “Hey, you.”

“Ugh, so clingy.” Sam teases but hugs her back. “Kara, this is my daughter Ruby.” She gestures to the teenager on the couch, now waving up at her but her eyes darting down to her phone every couple of seconds.

Kara smiles at her. “Hey, Ruby. I’m Kara.” Then she opens her arms towards Lori, who is hiding behind Lena’s legs and looking at the strangers with apprehension. Seeing her mom waiting for her, Lori darts into her arms and wraps her hands around the back of Kara’s neck as she’s picked up. “This is Lori.”

Kara turns her body, and subsequently, Lori’s towards the pair of them but Lori isn’t a big fan of that and tucks her head into her mom’s neck to hide from them.

“It’s ok, baby. They’re friends.” Kara soothes, a hand running up and down her back. Lori isn’t swayed though and keeps herself buried in the safety of her mother’s arms.

Lena takes a couple of steps closer to the pair and sets a gentle hand on the back of Lori’s shoulder. She flinches at the unexpected touch and her eyes fly up to see who is touching her but she relaxes again when she sees that it’s just Lena and reaches her arms out for her.

There’s an easy transition between Kara holding Lori and Lena holding her but either way, as soon as Lori is in her arms, her little head is tucked into the crook of Lena’s neck. “You’re ok. You don’t have to speak to them, let’s just sit down and get started on some games, huh?”

The feeling of Lori’s head nodding against her tickles and Lena smiles, taking up a seat on the couch on the opposite end to Sam and Ruby so Lori can get used to them in her own time. Lori sits on her lap sideways, her head still pressed tightly against her except on her chest this time.

Kara goes to sit down beside her but hesitates and instead pulls her jacket off and puts it beside her, saving her seat. “I’m going to grab some drinks, want one?”

Lena nods. “I have one on the counter, I forgot to bring it over, if you could grab that for me, that would be great. Oh, and there’s some chocolate milk in the refrigerator, I thought a certain someone might like a glass.”

Lori’s head shoots completely up at that point and she smiles. Lena can’t help but find it absolutely adorable when she sees a little gap where one of her teeth has fallen out. “I want chocolate milk!”

“You do? Are you sure?” Lena teases.

“Yes!” She turns her head to Kara. “Please, Mommy, can I?”

Kara shakes her head at the pair. “I suppose one glass won’t hurt, will it?”

Lori’s head shakes back and forth rapidly. “No, it won’t hurt.” She repeats.

With that adorable exchange underway, Kara heads to the kitchen where Alex and Winn are pouring their own drinks. “Hey, get in there and socialize, you antisocial freaks.” Kara pushes them out of her way.

“Now that’s just rude.” Winn pouts, already heading to the living room. Alex doesn’t leave so easily though.

Kara tries to open the refrigerator but can’t because Alex pushes her hand against it, keeping it closed. If she really wants to, Kara can probably force it open but Lena’s fridge probably costs more than everything she owns so she’s not going to try it in case she breaks it, it’s just not worth the risk. “Can I help you?”

“I’m not sure, can you?”

Kara frowns, “What does that even mean?”

Alex shrugs, “I don’t know but you’re hiding something and you need to spill the beans before I beat them out of you.”

“Why are you acting like you’re a dealer I owe money to?”

“I’m asking the questions here,” Alex points a finger in Kara’s face. “You’re acting weird and you’re going to tell me why. Got it?”

Kara tilts her head up to the ceiling, her hands finding her hips and a sigh burst forth from her lips. “I’m not acting weird, I’m just a little nervous for you guys to meet my new boss. Is that a good enough excuse for you?”

Alex’s eyes narrow. “So you admit that it’s an excuse?”

“Shove off and go mingle. I’m trying to get drinks before we all die of dehydration because you want to interrogate me.”

“I’m not letting this go,” Alex informs her, completely serious. “I know you and I can see that something is off with you, it’s written all over your face.”

Kara lowers her voice, her teeth gritting as she speaks. “I’ll talk to you at home. We’re not doing this here now go in there, you’re embarrassing me in front of my boss.”

Alex doesn’t look satisfied with the answer but her eyes dart to the couch where the others are trying and failing to sneakily look at them and she realizes that she is drawing attention to them. “Fine but we are going to talk about this.”

“Whatever, just go already.” Kara pushes her and Alex actually goes this time, plastering a smile on her face as she goes and turns on the Danvers charm that has never failed her before.

With the sister-shaped blockade out of the way, Kara can finally get the chocolate milk Lori is impatiently waiting for, her bright blue eyes watching her mom over Lena’s shoulder to see if she’s almost done.

As her hand grips the handle to open the fridge, Kara’s eyes fall on the litany of pictures hanging on the fridge, all with boring silver magnets that decidedly clash with the messy drawings of a four-year-old. It’s cute and Kara wasn’t fully expecting Lena to have been telling the truth about having them on display here before but she can see now that she was in fact telling the truth.

She gives herself a moment to take it in. It gives her a strange feeling, the knowledge that Lena loves her daughter enough to have her pictures up on display in her apartment, a place that is sleek and fancy. It doesn’t fit but Lena doesn’t care because she made a promise to Lori and so she’s keeping it. That’s someone she needs in her daughter’s life and she can’t believe how this person came into her life.

Had the plan worked, Lena’s life could have been ruined because who is she kidding, even she’s not naïve enough to truly believe that Lena wouldn’t have been hurt by that. She tried to convince herself before that there would be no real victims to what was planned but she can’t keep lying to herself, she knows that it wouldn’t have been anywhere close to an innocent, victimless plot. It would have at the very least traumatized her and yet here she is calming her daughter down and buying her chocolate milk.

With a shake of her head, Kara pushes those thoughts aside. Lena has forgiven her. She might not have forgiven herself, but Lena’s forgiveness makes her hate herself a little less.

Kara hurries up and gets the drinks done because by now, Lori is squirming in Lena’s lap because she’s so impatient and Lena’s soothing hand running up and down her spine isn’t doing anything to soothe her anymore.

Lena smiles at Kara when she hands her the drink she left on the counter earlier and Lori grabs the chocolate milk from her, her eyes brighter than usual from the excitement of finally having it.

“Thank you, Kara,” Lena says and shuffles over a little when Kara lifts her jacket and sits beside her so she has a little more space.

Kara smiles back at her and takes a sip from her glass.

Alex snorts at her from the other side of her. “Are you drinking chocolate milk, Kara?”

“Yeah,” Kara answers back, not ashamed. “Why?”

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“And it’s taken you until now to notice?” Kara’s eyebrows scrunch. A cluster of chuckles from everyone else in the room fills the air and Sam is looking at them strangely, her hand covering her mouth to hide her smile. “What are you laughing at, Samantha?”

Sam holds up a hand. “Ok so first off, call me that again and I’ll fire you and secondly, you’re the world’s biggest dork.”

A sarcastic grin covers her face. “Oh really? Do I get a T-shirt for that?”

Lena cuts in before Sam can talk. “Ok, ok, let’s not continue this and get onto the games before you people give me an aneurism.”

The games are getting competitive and it’s getting frighteningly aggressive as everyone yells at each other. It turns out that while Monopoly is fun, it becomes less fun when a bunch of people are passionate about winning and argue about who owes who which properties.

Lori is playing in a team with Alex because she’s a little devil whose competitive side rivals her aunts so they make a good team. She’s warmed up to Sam and Ruby enough that she’s not hiding from them now and is willing to exchange a few words with them but she’s keeping her distance from them.

It’s really showing Lena that Kara wasn’t telling her a lie when she told her that Lori is shy and it was a shock she warmed up to her so quickly but she managed it much easier than Sam is and a part of her wants to rub that in her face because it’s always felt like Sam has herself together much more than she does so this is something she finally has over on her but at the risk of sounding petty in front of everyone, she keeps her mouth shut. She’s totally going to say something tomorrow when Sam will definitely call her to gossip about the night though, she can’t hold it in forever.

Kara went out of the game early on, not really trying all that hard because she was too busy overseeing Alex to ensure she was being nice to Sam and doesn’t ruin her reputation with her boss. She’s actually having the opposite problem now though because Alex is being on her best behaviour and that can only mean one thing; Alex is flirting with her boss. She supposes this is payback for having a crush on Alex’s boss.

Lena goes bankrupt and huffs, moving from where she was kneeling beside the coffee table to sit back down on the couch beside Kara. “This game sucks.”

“I second that.” Kara huffs with her. “I swear I used to actually be good at it at some point in my life.”

“Well, I can’t say the same. I never really played board games growing up. They had a few at boarding school but playing them was a very quick way to becoming known as a nerd so I only ever made the mistake of trying them out once and never did it again.”

Kara is slouched down on the couch and is sat at quite the unattractive angle but she doesn’t even process it, just leans her head back against the cushion of the couch and tilts her head towards Lena. “But you are a nerd.”

“Rude,” Lena says, no bite to the word. “I might have been a nerd but school definitely wasn’t my main focus when I was at boarding school.”

“Then what was?”

“It was an all-girls school and I was a queer teenager trying to find myself, I’m sure you can figure out how I found myself there.”

Kara’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, her eyes searching Lena’s face for answers for a moment until the penny finally drops. “Oh.”

“Yep.”

“Well, that’s understandable. School is pretty much when everyone does their experimenting. Mine was college.”

Lena’s eyebrow raises. “Do tell.”

A blush covers Kara’s cheeks. She wasn’t planning on mentioning that, it’s not something she ever talks about and even Alex doesn’t know a lot about her time in college, mostly because it’s weird talking to her sister about that stuff but also because it’s something that deeply personal to her at the time and it was a time when she was trying to define herself without any outside influences.

“It’s probably not as interesting as yours, I wasn’t at an all-girls college or anything. My roommate liked to bring around groups of her friends and they would get drunk in our dorm so from time to time I’d end up joining in since they were making so much noise I couldn’t study. Drunk me has less trouble flirting with pretty girls than sober me. Sober me just ends up tripping over her words and making a fool of myself.”

“I suppose it helped that you were already in your dorm, the bed was close.” Lena nudges her shoulder with her own. “I used to have to sneak down behind the bicycle sheds because my dormmate was a snitch and I didn’t want my parents to find out.”

“If it makes you feel better, my roommate ended up yelling at me on three separate occasions for sleeping with her friends and they stopped coming around to the dorm because she refused to risk me being around them anymore.”

Lena openly laughs at her then, her lips curled up into the sweetest of smiles. “Your roommate thought you were enough of a stud that you were going to make your way through all of her friends.”

“I only slept with two of them and they were a group of like…seven, or something. I slept with one twice. I tried asking her out after the second time but that was sober me so I think my stuttering put her off. It kind of knocked my confidence so I just went with the easier option. Men.”

“Ew.”

“Tell me about it. I got the best thing from sticking to guys for a while though. Besides, while I figured out my bisexuality, I never truly embraced the lady-loving side of myself, I accepted it was there but I pushed it aside and figured I’d just never be with a woman again after that.”

A hand falls onto Kara’s arm, Lena’s thumb running across her skin soothingly. “How come?”

Kara sucks in a deep breath to buy her time to think. “I guess…I think I just always struggled to fit in to the point where I thought that acknowledging myself in that way would undo all of the work I’d put in to be what I deemed to be an acceptable human being. I didn’t want to stand out in a heteronormative society.”

“Now that sucks,” Lena responds simply.

“Yes, it does.”

Lena looks down at her hand, still on Kara’s arm, and keeps up the motion with her thumb since Kara isn’t pushing her off. “Do you still feel like that?”

“Like I have to be with a man to fit into a society that is going to shit on me no matter what I do anyway?”

“Hm.” Lena hums her assent.

“No, not anymore,” Kara admits and then regrets it when her answer garners a tiny smile from Lena. God, she’s leading her on and she still needs to find a way to talk to her alone and address the relationship they’ve been sliding into because she needs to hit the brakes. She can’t do this now. “I’m going to grab another drink.”

The couch beside Lena is empty before she can process what just happened, one second they are having a moment and talking honestly with each other and then the next Kara is retreating. The joy she feels about Kara admitting being open to dating a woman is quickly overtaken by worry as Kara runs away. Maybe she’s not as ok with it as she says, or maybe she’s just overwhelmed with the topic and should drop it.

Lena follows her.

She’s not going to push her but she is going to check on her so she makes her way to the kitchen, stopping to throw a look over her shoulder to make sure that the others are all still occupied, which they are and they are arguing now so they are definitely not paying attention to the pair of them.

Lena comes up behind Kara and rests a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” Kara answers quickly and with absolutely no chill.

“And that’s a very obvious lie. Kara, what’s wrong?” Lena implores her to open up.

Kara shakes her head. “Can we…not here, Lena. Can we speak somewhere else?” Her words come out in a rush and a little scrambled but the message still comes across loud and clear.

“I don’t think any of them will notice if we slip away for a few minutes.” Lena offers. “Come on, we can go and talk in my bedroom.”

Kara casts a nervous glance at the group and determines that Lena’s right. They are all too focused on the game to pay them any mind. She’s still not sure as though now is a good time to talk. If this goes wrong then Lena is going to be stuck in her apartment with a bunch of people she has to host while trying not to show her true feelings, whatever they may be. “I don’t know, Lena.”

“It’s ok if you need more time to think, I’m sure they’ll get distracted again in a little while anyway,” Lena reassures her, backing off so she’s not applying as much pressure on Kara.

Kara is very rapidly filled with guilt. Lena’s still being nice to her and she’s about to reject her before anything has even happened. She can’t put it off, Lena’s just going to keep looking at her with worry-filled eyes until they speak. “No, no, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

“Are you certain?”

Kara nods, swallowing harshly and then follows Lena down the hall to her bedroom. Her hands twist together nervously while Lena shuts the door behind them softly. Her eyes trace around the room and a part of her is a little shocked at how ordinary it is. If she didn’t know better she would just assume this is the room of any random person on the street, not a billionaire. While she knows the furniture must be expensive, it’s designed simply and none of it is bold. Even her bedsheets are just a gentle teal colour, plain and simple.

Lena clears her throat to get her attention. “You can sit if you’d like.”

Kara’s head jerks into another nod and she perches on the very edge of the bed. Lena takes a seat beside her, leaning back more firmly than Kara. “I’m not sure where to start. Let me just think for a moment please.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Her fingers tap on her knees while she constructs her opening sentence in her head and the movement does nothing to ease Lena’s growing nerves. “I was talking to Sam the other day and she told me that there’s a good chance you might have feelings for me that are more than platonic.”

Lena physically rears back. What just came out of Kara’s mouth was the very last thing she was expecting to hear and she is utterly unprepared to deal with it. “She told you that?”

“Yes. She basically told me that I need to stop being stupid and admit that I have a crush on you because you feel the same way.” Kara’s fingers are tapping so fast against her knee that Lena thinks she might drill her way right through it if she carries on but that’s not her main focus, not when she just heard something she doesn’t want to unhear.

“Was she right?”

“About me having a crush on you?” Kara’s voice is shaky.

“Yeah, do you?” Lena asks. She’s completely on edge waiting for the answer and doesn’t know what to do with herself so she crosses her arms over her chest.

Kara drops her head down for a second before lifting it again. “She wasn’t wrong.”

Lena’s lips part into a shy smile. “So we both like each other?”

“We do,” Kara confirms before administering a nasty blow to Lena. “But nothing can come of it.”

Lena’s smile drops off her face and her eyes start filling up with tears. It’s one thing to get rejected by someone that isn’t interested in you, it’s another to get rejected by someone that is. “Oh.”

“I wish we could. I would really like that but we can’t.” Kara’s words are choked and as Lena looks at her through her own tears, she can see Kara struggling too. “I have Lori to think about. I can’t mess up her life any more than it already is. We’re just getting back on track and you’ve become a stable figure in her life. I can’t risk that in any way. I’d rather have you as a friend than as nothing at all, Lena. I can’t risk you leaving because something went wrong between us.

“You’ve done so much to help us and I’m so incredibly grateful for everything you’ve done but that’s not why I need you to stay. I need you to stay in our lives because you’re really kind and funny and thoughtful and everything I’ve needed. I really do like you, Lena. I just can’t lose you when I’ve only just got you into my life.”

Lena’s whole face scrunches, her confusion levels skyrocketing. “So, you’re telling me that we can’t be together because you like me too much?”

Kara shrugs in response.

“Kara, for a woman as smart as you are, you’re acting kind of dumb and I don’t think there’s a nicer way for me to tell you than that.”

Lena almost laughs as Kara’s head flies up and her eyes narrow at her in offence. “What did you just say?”

“I said you’re acting dumb. I get that you want stability for Lori, especially after everything you guys have been through but that doesn’t mean you have to stop living to give her that. Change doesn’t equal stability, it’s just different.”

“But if that change means you’re not around anymore, that would devastate her,” Kara argues weakly.

Lena shrugs. “Well, that’s a pointless line of thinking because there’s nothing that’s going to stop me from being around.”

“Even if we try being more than friends and it doesn’t work out? Would you really be comfortable being around me because I’m pretty sure no sane person would stick around?” Kara makes her points as directly as she can manage, her voice strained the entire time. “She talks about you every day. She’s always asking me when we’re going to see you next and asking me to invite you over to watch movies with her. If I were to tell her that she won’t be seeing you again, it would break her heart. If I let anything happen between us, I’d be putting her heart on the line just as much as mine.”

Lena’s shoulders sag. She hadn’t thought of it that way. The risk involved in dating someone with a child is much greater than if she were dating someone childless. Even if she has no intention of leaving their lives if it doesn’t work out, that doesn’t mean that Kara will be comfortable with having her around and even in the best-case scenario of that, she would have to slowly phase herself out of Lori’s life. “I see where you’re coming from.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says into the quiet of the room, the words heavy and dripping with sadness.

“Kara, you don’t have to apologize for looking out for your daughter. I understand your reasoning even if I don’t agree with it.”

Kara’s glossy blue eyes meet hers. “Why don’t you agree with it? You said you understand.”

“I understand why you’re so worried. I would be too but you’re only thinking in worst-case scenarios. In reality, we’re both level-headed women who care about each other and that little girl out there. Neither of us is about to do anything to hurt anyone on purpose. Besides that though, even if we tried and failed at a relationship, I wouldn’t want to end our friendship, it means more to me than I can say.”

Kara’s lips twist to one side, her brain working at a mile a minute. “Do you really think that we could stay friends after that?”

“I do but if I’m being honest, I’m hoping that it wouldn’t go wrong anyway. We might have had a rocky start but since then all we’ve done is build a relationship up on honesty and kindness. Switching our relationship status from platonic to romantic won’t change that core foundation. That’s why I said I don’t understand.” Lena explains, getting brave enough to reach out and trace her fingers across the back of Kara’s hand, prompting her to flip it over.

Kara feels Lena’s fingers slip between her own. “If we were to try, would you be ok with taking things slow?”

“More than.”

Kara’s gaze is deep as she searches Lena’s eyes for any hint of discomfort or hesitation. “And you’d be ok keeping it quiet for a while so Lori doesn’t find out? I don’t want her to get her hopes up just for us to go on a couple of dates and realize that there’s no spark.”

“She’s your daughter and I fully respect any decisions you make over her as her parent. If you want me to keep my mouth shut, I can do that.” Lena’s grip on Kara’s hand tightens in excitement because Kara is actually starting to agree with her, she can see it.

Kara breathes deeply. “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok,” Kara confirms. “If you want to do this, let’s do it.”

“You make it sound so romantic.” Lena teases, a grin blossoming across her face.

Kara reacts beautifully with a bright blush and a breathy laugh. “Sorry. What I mean to ask was if you would please do me the honours of going on a date with me sometime?”

“I would love that.”

“Great,” Kara mumbles happily.

“Excellent.”

“Magnificent.”

“Cheesy.” Lena taps a finger to Kara’s nose. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way though, there’s one more thing I want to do before we go back out there and have to deal with the others.”

Kara’s eyebrows scrunch in mock confusion, her eyes shining brightly. “There is?”

“Yeah, something like this,” Lena leans towards Kara, meeting her halfway and letting their lips meet for the first time.

They both lean into it, their hands still entwined throughout. It takes a second for them to find their rhythm because Lena’s going in soft and delicate so she doesn’t scare Kara off and Kara is throwing caution to the wind and finally letting herself give in and have what she’s been talking herself out of since her crush on Lena grew noticeable.

They settle into a pace that is somewhere in between and breathe push against each other, both fighting to control the kiss. Lena puts up a good fight until she comes to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter who wins this one, she’s going to get the chance to kiss her again anyway. She lets Kara take over and instead focuses on just enjoying the moment.

There’s a gentle tap at the door that breaks them apart from each other just in time for the door to swing open.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but there’s a little girl out there searching for her mommy.” Sam points a thumb over her shoulder but a smirk is seated firmly on her face. “I see you two have been having a productive time in here.”

Kara stands up, pulling Lena up with her because of their joined hands. “What makes you think that? We were just talking.”

“Oh honey, there’s lipstick all over your face. You should clean up and then come check on your daughter, she’s getting nervous with you gone.”

Kara’s hand flies up to her face as she looks at Lena’s which is covered in smeared lipstick. If her face is anywhere near as bad as Lena’s then she looks a mess too. “Can you tell her I’ll be out in a minute?”

“As long as I get all of the juicy details of this interaction later on.” Sam barters. “I’m looking forward to hearing about how you changed your mind about taking a bite of that hot ass.”

“Can you not?”

Sam shakes her head. “That would be no fun, now go clean up, Lori’s waiting.” She leaves the room looking smug and chuckling to herself evilly.

Kara and Lena share a look before Lena speaks. “You told her you didn’t want to date me.”

“Yeah but to be fair, she’s really good at extracting information.”

“That’s true.” Lena’s head flicks to one side as she gives Kara that one. Sam has always had the power to get her hands on the latest goings-on without putting in much effort. “We need to go and clean ourselves up.”

“Yeah, Lori will be nervous if we’re gone much longer, let’s go.” Kara goes to pull her towards the door so they can go to the bathroom down the hall but Lena pulls her back.

“Kara, did you not notice the bathroom that’s been six feet from you this whole time?” Lena points to the door behind her.

Kara’s mouth drops open. “Apparently not.”

“Come on, nerd. We’ve got a little girl waiting in the other room.”

“Ok.” Kara lets Lena drag her into the ensuite and does her best to hurry so she doesn’t keep Lori waiting but there are definitely a couple of setbacks in her lipstick-cleaning process.

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