#because i adore the way he painted dogs
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A selection of Leyendecker's dogs.
#Leyendecker#j c leyendecker#because i adore the way he painted dogs#man was a huge fan of scrappy little terriers apparently#this isn't even all his dogs#he's got so manny good ones
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Hi! I was wondering if I could request a prompt where the reader is out at night with the LIs, wearing a pretty outfit, a man just approaches her and rudely asks “how much for a bj?” How would they react/protect her from such a creep?
(Sorry, for my English, I hope it made sense haha🤞🏼)
Very Minor N/SFW Warning!! This one really made me laugh because this has happened to me before, and the situation mostly pans out with my own partner having to yank me away to avoid having to post bail on me later in the evening. Remember to leash your dogs kids! Thank you for the request!! <3
LaDS men when you get catcalled/propositioned on the street
Xavier -
He's apologizing profusely to you because the ensuing bloodspray from how hard he punched the guy in the nose got on your dress and he genuinely feels awful about it.
There is not much to it, besides he acted embarrassingly quickly, to the point you wonder to yourself if he's just been silently waiting for this moment to come.
He's used to going out with you for drinks or evening dates- it's one of the more common ways for the two of you to hang out aside from spending the evening in one of your apartments with the other. Juggling work and clocking out with social activities would also mean walking late at night, to go to a movie or even on a snack run.
So needless to say, he has in fact, been mentally preparing himself for something like this to happen.
He can't help it.
He doesn't ever want to see you disrespected- he doesn't care the context. Work, family, friends-
And now, what, a stranger asking you for sexual favors?
You wait calmly with him while he speaks to the officers about what happened, trying to contain your giggles at how sheepishly he looks at the ground, his face still painted with the most adorable anger.
Zayne -
Quickly, he's pushed you behind himself and holding eye contact with the guy. It doesn't matter if he's drunk, or perfectly sober, Zayne won't excuse someone saying such a ridiculous thing to you.
He has his usual air of politeness and manners, but the bite in his voice is more than apparent, even to someone who doesn't know him. Dressed as nicely as he is with the air he carries around him, it's a weird experience for those who don't know how protective Zayne can get.
He will tell the man to give you an apology and back off, or there will be consequences.
You know what those consequences are, and despite feeling smug about how protective Zayne is, you're trying to grab his arm and stop him, to no avail.
If the creep tries to reach for you, Zayne will back up into you to force you back gently, and the man will quickly realize that he can't reach forward anymore-
Even as Zayne walks away with you, the ice is still creeping up the man's body. Slow enough, but still moving.
Hopefully an OTTO calls for help in time. Hypothermia at night would suck.
Rafayel -
He's immediately between you and the guy, hand long since dropped your own as he crosses his arms and stares the guy down.
If you hadn't known him so long, you would expect him to fire off a tirade of insults and comments at the guy- but you know Rafayel. You know him well.
He tells the guy to back off, in the most simple of terms as he glare is enough to set the man alight- and Rafayel's evol does just that when the guy doesn't seem to back down- lighting up the shoulders of his clothing and causing him to flay around screaming, as Rafayel pulls you to keep walking.
The amount of tasteful compliments on your attire rise, and you know he's doing it to keep you from internalizing the earlier interaction and stop dressing how you want.
He doesn't need some random freak to keep you from expressing yourself how you want to. Of course, he'll always find you attractive, and the little outfit you're wearing is doing numbers to him, but that's not his focus here at all.
He wants you to feel comfortable, confident-
And he'll do everything in his power to make sure you always do.
Sylus -
I am not entirely sure the man who's asking you has finished his sentence before he's slammed once against a nearby building and then released.
Sylus makes no motion to indicate that it was his doing, continuing to walk along with you to wherever the two of you had been going in the first place-
But you knew.
You had seen his stupid red mist envelope him.
For a second, you'd been scared that he was going to kill the guy- and while you knew someone who was comfortable saying such a thing to someone needed to be put in their place, 'murder' was not at all the same as 'putting someone in their place'.
No, he was just slightly- sort of- broken.
Just a bit.
Sylus won't react much, he may give a passing comment about the man, but otherwise, he's back to complimenting you or conversing with you about whatever subject you two had been discussing prior to the creep showing up.
"Sorry, sweetie. I know you don't like bugs. I tried to handle it as... efficiently, as possible."
#love and deepspace#.writey#lads#lds#x reader#sylus x reader#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader
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desperate male lead syndrome is making a strong comeback in 2024 and i’m here for it!! so i wrote about this annoying loser (your honour i love him so much)
husband atsumu drabble because this is what the people want ^^ (i’m people)
“baby, don’t go looking at yer’ poor husband like that..” atsumu pouts, poking your cheeks at the sight of your evidently disdained face.
okay. you could go do that. you could also just forget the broken ceramic on the floor, still not cleaned up because atsumu would rather make amends with you first than cleaning up the potential risk that was right infront of you both.
honestly, you couldn’t tell whether you should be glad, or concerned.
“i’m not mad at you,’ you say, the expression on your face clearly betraying your words. “don’t worry about it, atsumu.”
you thought that maybe your words would ease the blonde man’s resolve, however it seemed to have only made it worse for him.
“atsumu?! no baby, no love, no ‘tsumu?!” he stresses, hands going up to his mouth.
you stare at his rather dramatic delivery,—and was that the life in his eyes flying away?? he looks like a modern rendition of casper the ghost.
“i’ll do the dishes for a week, no,—a month! i’ll buy ya’ those heels ya’ told me not to buy at the mall!!” atsumu frantically spouts, saying anything he could think of as he continues to cling onto your figure, his face mushing onto your neck and shoulder area.
you shut your eyes. just.. how could you stay annoyed? look at his pouty face, how his ears seemed to be more red than the rest of his skins current complexion. he practically made it impossible for you to even be the least bit mad, and you would’ve felt as guilty as a convict for even attempting to do so. that’s the kind of effect he had on you.
in response, you merely sigh. but there wasn’t any bark to it. “or, you could clean up the shattered pot on the floor.” you say, making sure to bring your tone to a more gentle and reassuring one.
atsumu turns to at you once again, his blonde locks tickling your skin as he moves.
“yer’ not mad anymore?” he beams. “i mean, we could always make another pot, right? how ‘bout it?” he says, hopeful eyes staring directly to your orbs.
in all realness, you genuinely weren’t mad at him, —(as much as he would sulk and say you definitely were), no. you were just sad at the fact that you and atsumu’s ceramic that you both had worked so hard to sculpt and paint on your first date was now shattered on the floor, all but beyond repair.
“i was never mad at you, promise.” you say. “just a bit disappointed. i liked that pot a lot, you know.” your hand reaches for atsumu’s cheek, pinching it slightly. physical touch always seemed to reassure him more than anything else.
atsumu mentally notes that he should make you breakfast in bed the following morning as he stares at your affirming expression. he plants various of pecks on your face after doing so.
“i’m sorry, princess.” atsumu coo’s, his hand pushing away the little hairs on your forehead as he plants a kiss on it.
“i’ll make it up to ya’, i promise.”
— • —
now, you know that you most definitely shouldn’t be all too surprised, considering that, well, —this was miya atsumu we were talking about,
but seriously….
you stare at the little bundle of fur politely sitting on your lap as you rub your eyes, just having come out of your nights sleep. you also happen to notice the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate coming from the bedside table.
“ ‘tsumu, where—?..no, when did you get this dog?”
“i have my ways.” he proudly grins. “but look, it’s yer’ favourite breed!”
“….yes, i know. but where did you—“
“we have a daughter now, hehe.”
“since when did i agre—“
“so adorable, definitely takes after her mommy and daddy. look at the bow on her head!”
“ ‘tsum-“
“i love you.”
“dont change the subject!”
——————————————————————————
atsumu brainrot is real and clocking me out (kageyama i can explain)
update: TYSM for 1k+ notes omg ??!! thank u all for loving this loserboy with me i feel so heard 😢😢🙏🏽
#miya atsumu#atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader fluff#atsumu x you#atsumu x y/n#haikyuu atsumu#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu fluff#atsumu imagines#haikyuu imagine#haikyu x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu fanfiction#hq atsumu#anime x reader#haikyuu anime#anime#miya atsumu x you#miya atsumu x y/n#miya twins#atsumu fluff#atsumu x female reader#atsumu imagine#atsumu imagine fluff#miya atsumu x reader fluff#haikyuu x y/n
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Dave Lizewski being a REALLY clingy sleeper. Like he physically smothers you in his sleep, all cute and disheveled, groaning when you move.
tbh I didn't think anyone would actually request something but I'm literally so happy someone did.So thank you!!! And I totally agree! Like- when you try to get up because you need to pee or something and he just squeezes you tighter and grumbles something incoherent- I need help,I am so down bad for this man.
P.S - sorry if it's bad,this is my first fic. :')
Dave Lizewski x reader
Prompt: fluff
Warnings: None.
Summary: After a long night of patrolling,all Dave wanted to do was to take off this suit,take a warm shower and curl up under the blankets with his amazing partner; you.
Dave huffs softly as he trudges along the New York City streets,his body tired and heavy feeling.He swore if he even sat down somewhere he'd probably fall asleep- Hell,he could probably fall asleep while he was still walking.But as he keeps going,he spots a familiar white mailbox with hand-painted flowers on it,and he immediately smiles.
He walks a bit faster now,though it was still a bit sluggish.After a moment he makes it to the side of your house where your bedroom window is.He gently knocks on the glass,his lips curled into a smile as he watches your head turn towards the window and your lips curve as well.
You look up from your homework from today at the sound of tapping against your bedroom window.You smile as you see the familiar green wet-suit paired with that adorable smile you love oh so much.You stand from your desk and make your way over to the window,opening the curtains wider before sliding the window open and moving out of the way so he can climb through.
"Hey,Davey." You say as he crawls through your window.You shut the window after he's in,making sure that the curtains are closed completely to keep Kick-Ass's true identity a secret,before turning to him.
"Hey,baby." He says as he takes off his mask and sits it on top of your dresser before opening a drawer,digging through it.
"I'm gonna go take a shower,okay?" He says,looking at you as he moves over to the bathroom door in your room,placing his hand on the doorknob.He watches you nod before heading into the bathroom.
You smile more as you sit on your bed,watching as he rummages through your clothes to find something big enough to fit him the way he likes.After a minute or so,he grabs a pair of your sweatpants and one of your t-shirts.Well,it was his shirt that you had stolen the last time you were at his house.Not that he cared though.
_
After a while,he emerges from the bathroom,freshly clean and smelling of your body wash.He frowns a bit when he sees you sitting at your desk again and walks over to you.He leans down and wraps his arms around you,burying his face into your neck.
"I'm tired.." he says,his voice slightly muffled from your skin.
"Go to sleep then." you say as you continue to write stuff down on your paper,leaning into him a bit.
He shakes his head slightly before lifting his head so his nose nudges against your cheek,his eyes half-lidded.
"I want you to go to sleep with me though.." he says with a slight pout.
"I have to finish my homework." You say,your eyes still on the paper but the feeling of him against you,holding you,is starting to get distracting.
"Please?" he pleads softly as he looks at you with those big blue puppy dog eyes.
And with that,your a goner.Who could say no when he asked oh so nicely?
_
A few hours later,your eyes crack open,your mouth dry.You blink a few times,letting your eyes adjust to the darkness before looking down.Dave is still dead asleep and his limbs are wrapped around you like a koala,his face buried in your chest.
'Cute..' you thought with a small tired smile before trying to pull away from him to get up and get a glass of water,but he tightens his arms around you with a soft groan,grumbling something incoherently in his sleep as he nuzzles his face deeper into your chest.
You try a few more times,but each attempt has the same reaction from him.You try one last time,and this time he moves so he's practically laying on top of you,his face buried in your neck.
"No.." he mutters softly into your neck before relaxing on top of you,slipping back into his deep sleep.
You let out a soft groan as he lays on top of you,realizing that you aren't getting up anytime soon.You wrap your arms back around him and relax,going back to sleep with Daves weight pinning you to the bed.
#dave lizewski x reader#dave lizewski#dave lizewski fluff#aaron taylor johnson x reader#aaron taylor johnson#dave lizewski fanfiction
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Oh Red may I please request little Eliza playing at drinking tea with her brothers and dad? Maybe she even puts make up on them and paint their nails too
Oh absolutely, my darling! Your wish is my command 😘
Words: 3.9k
Warnings: pregnant!reader
[As You Wish masterlist]
“Daddy?” Eliza sing-songs as she skips over to the couch. She doesn’t bother to wait for her father to take his eyes off the television before she climbs into his lap.
“What’s up, sweet pea?”
“Will you play with me?”
He smiles down at her and grabs one of her small sock-clad feet in his hand.
“What do you want to play?” Eddie knows he isn’t going to be thrilled with the answer by the way the four-year-old looks up at him with her wide brown eyes and adorably bats her eyelashes. He makes a mental note to tell you to stop teaching her ways to use her cuteness against him.
“I wanna have a tea party,” she says.
Eddie holds in his groan. Tea parties always had an air of pretension about them that Eddie didn’t like—even ones hosted by little girls. He blames his metal “lifestyle” growing up, but you’ve called him out on more than one occasion for just not wanting to do them because they’re boring. He has yet to admit you’re right.
“Doesn’t Mommy want to have a tea party with you?” He has no shame in pawning this off on you. In his opinion, you fit in better with the pink frilly tablecloth and the teddy bears wearing lacy hats than he does.
“Mama’s sleeping,” Eliza says, sadness evident in her tone. Your daughter has noticed you’ve been doing that a lot lately. Both you and your husband explained to her that you get tired easily since your body is growing two babies, but it’s not something a little girl so young can easily understand. All she knows is that her mommy doesn’t do as much with her anymore. It tugs on Eddie’s heartstrings, and he can’t bear to deny her.
“Okay, let’s have a tea party,” he says.
Eliza claps her hands together in rapid succession before leaping off her dad’s lap and running down the hallway to her room. It’s impossible for Eddie not to smile as he turns the television off and pushes himself up off the couch. By the time he reaches her room, Eliza has her table and chairs set up in the middle of her room and is digging her Disney Princess tea set out of her toy box.
Once it’s clutched in her little fists, Eliza turns around and disapprovingly looks over her father’s outfit.
“Daddy, you can’t wear that to a tea party,” she says, walking forward to set the tea set on the table.
Eddie frowns as he looks down at his black jeans and faded Black Sabbath tee.
“Why not?” he asks.
“It’s too dark!”
“Well, I don’t own any pink clothes, Your Highness.”
“Fine,” she huffs, conveying her disappointment. But she quickly perks up and runs back to her toy box. “I got an idea!”
“What might that be?”
The top half of your daughter disappears for a few moments as she dives headfirst into her toy box. Objects clank and bang around inside as she pushes them around, looking for one item in particular.
“Aha!” Dark curls bob back into view as she stands up straight, brandishing a pink and white box that fills Eddie with dread. Eliza walks towards him, showing him the Barbie makeup kit she had gotten from Santa this past Christmas.
“Liza…” Eddie says. He’s not able to get another word out before she gives him those puppy dog eyes again, though.
“Pleeeeease, Daddy? You have to look pretty when you go to a tea party.”
“I’m not pretty?” Eddie asks, cocking an eyebrow and resting his hands on his hips.
The way that Eliza’s nose wrinkles up as she looks him over says it all.
“No,” she answers with a shake of her head.
“Pfft,” Eddie scoffs as he walks over to sit down on his daughter’s bed. “Mommy thinks I’m pretty.”
“Because she loves you,” Eliza replies, absent-minded, as she sets the makeup kit down next to Eddie and begins to open it up. He has no time to be offended before she asks, “Can I paint your nails?”
Eddie lifts a ringed hand up and looks over his short, stubby nails. It wouldn’t be the first time they were painted, honestly. In high school they’d sometimes be painted various shades of black, blue, or green courtesy of Brittany. He internally cringes at the memory. It’s definitely time for a much better girl to paint his nails.
“Sure, kid,” he tells her.
Eliza grins and picks two small bottles up from her kit. She clicks the glass jars together before she holds them up for her dad to see.
“Red or pink?”
“Uh…” Eddie wrinkles up his nose as he inspects the two bottles held in her small hands. The red is nice and dark while the pink is full-on shimmery and sparkly. “Red.”
Eliza nods once and puts the pink polish back in its case.
“Turn,” Eliza says, hoisting herself up on her bed and patting the comforter between her and her dad. Eddie twists, tucking one leg beneath him so he’s able to face the little girl properly.
The room is notably quiet as your daughter opens the bottle, holding the cap and brush in one hand, and setting the bottle down on the Barbie kit with the other. An involuntary smile quirks Eddie’s lips as he watches Eliza get to work. Her round little face squishes up as she situates Eddie’s larger hand on the lid of the makeup kit and sticks her fingers between his to spread them open. As she leans in and presses the tip of the brush to his nails, Eddie notices how Eliza sticks her tongue out–just slightly–as she concentrates. Whatever gene Eddie inherited that gave him that quirk is strong; he’s given it to all three of his children so far. Silently, he wonders if the twins will do it as well.
As expected, Eliza paints most of the skin surrounding Eddie’s nails along with the nails themselves. It feels cool and sticky against your husband’s skin and he wrinkles his face up almost identically to how the little girl did just minutes ago.
“Okay, switch hands.”
Eddie does as he’s instructed, bringing the freshly painted one up near his mouth so he can blow on the wet polish. The last thing he needs is to smear the red on something, forgetting it was there.
“What’s going on in here?”
Luke leans against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest as he takes in the beauty parlor in front of him.
“Gettin’ ready for a tea party,” Eliza says, not lifting her head from her task. She switches to Eddie’s ring finger and glances up at her brother. “You wanna play, too?”
Normally, Luke would flat out decline. But he spies the makeup sitting between his father and sister and his mischievous mind starts concocting.
“Sure,” Luke says, taking one step into the room. “On one condition.”
The look that Eddie gives his middle child warns him not to start anything with his sister.
“What?” Eliza asks.
“I’ll come to your tea party if you put some of that makeup on Dad’s face.”
Eliza sits up straight, eyes widening in excitement as she looks between the two men in the room. Her eyes turn pleading as she leaves them on her father.
“Pleeeeease, Daddy?” she begs. “A tea party is more fun with more people!”
One look at the various colors of eyeshadows and lipsticks is enough to make Eddie cringe. But the look on little Eliza’s face is so hopeful and Eddie can’t bear to crush it.
“Only if Luke gets Ryan to join, too,” Eddie compromises.
“Luke?” Eliza bats her eyelashes at her older brother, who, admittedly, isn’t as susceptible to them as Eddie is. But they’re still pretty damn convincing.
“Oh, he won’t want to miss this.” Luke smirks and slips back into the hallway to go find his brother.
“Yay!” Eliza cheers as she goes back to finishing up Eddie’s hand.
The two brothers come into Eliza’s room just as she’s recapping the red nail polish.
“What do you think, Lize?” Eddie muses as he rests his freshly painted hands on his thighs. “Think your brothers need to be made prettier for the tea party, too?”
Eliza nods, looking over the two boys. “Oh, yes.”
Eddie chuckles, somewhat evilly, as he stands from the bed.
“Red or pink, gentlemen?” Eddie asks, offering his previous seat to them.
“You said he would be getting makeup put on,” Ryan grumbles to Luke.
“Nail polish isn’t really makeup,” Luke argues with a shrug.
“Yes, it is,” Ryan and Eliza reply simultaneously.
Ryan gives his younger brother a gentle shove towards the bed, leading to the fourteen-year-old stumbling over to Eliza’s bed.
“Why are we having a tea party, Liza Bean?” Ryan asks as Luke takes a seat.
“Cause I wanna,” Eliza answers, picking up the two colors of polish for Luke to see. “And Mama is always tired, so I haven’t had one in a long time.”
Both Munson sons share a look, and Eddie can see the resignation in their gazes, hearts once again gripped by Eliza.
Luke takes a deep breath as he turns back to his sister.
“Pink,” he says.
Ten minutes later, Luke has sparkling pink nails, and Ryan has dark red ones to match his dad.
"I think red is my color," Ryan comments as he takes a seat at the small tea table set up in the middle of Eliza's room. The chairs are comically small for everyone in the family but Eliza, but she is quite happy about that. It always makes her giggle to see her parents or brothers attempt to situate themselves on the tiny pink wooden chairs.
Luke takes the seat next to Ryan and leans over to inspect his nails.
"That's too dark to be red," Luke says.
"It's not purple," Ryan scoffs.
"Or pink!" Eliza adds.
"Why am I the smartest Munson?" Luke groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Excuse me?" Eddie grumbles.
"You're excused," Luke says before turning back to his siblings. "It is red, but it's more of a maroon or scarlet."
"Was that crayon you ate when you were five maroon or scarlet?" Ryan quips.
"It was just red, thank you very much," Luke says, sitting up straighter.
"Alright, about Dad wearing this makeup now..." Ryan smirks, eyes darting between Eliza and Eddie.
"Okay, fine, let's do this." Eddie grabs one of the small pink chairs and drags it over to the side of Eliza's bed. He plops it down backwards and takes a seat on it. He tilts his face up and closes his eyes. "Let's see what you've got."
"Hmm..." Eliza hums, looking over the different colored powders awaiting her use. They all look so tempting, it's hard for her to choose. "Should I use blue or green?"
"Use blue on Dad, green on Luke," Ryan suggests.
"Okay!" Eliza chimes.
"W-Wait, what?" Luke stammers.
Ryan smirks and claps his little brother on the shoulder.
"Gotta make you look nice and pretty, don't we?"
"That includes you too then, smartass," Eddie calls over.
"Nah," Ryan says, shaking his head. "I'm pretty enough."
"Uh, no," Eliza says, causing Eddie and Luke to burst out in laughter. "Don't worry, I'll find a color for you too, Ry-Ry."
Now it's Luke's turn to smirk and shake his older brother's shoulder.
Eliza picks up one of the pink sparkly brushes that came with the Barbie makeup kit and jabs it into the blue eyeshadow, creating a cerulean cloud that floats up around her face. With one tiny hand, Eliza holds Eddie's chin still. With the other, she reaches up and brushes the blue dust gently across her father's eyelids.
"Ooh, it looks so pretty!" she cheers before doing the same to the second eye. Not only do Eddie's eyebrows get the royal treatment, but his eyebrows, under eyes, and even the bridge of his nose end up covered with the sky-colored makeup. "Now blush!"
Eddie cracks one eye open to watch as Eliza digs through the makeup kit. She tosses tubes of lipstick out of the way and shoves eyeshadows to the side before she finally pulls out a large blush palette with cartoonishly extreme colors. Your daughter picks up a new brush and flips the clear lid off the palette. Lacking the finesse that only comes with age, Eliza dunks the brush against the brightest pink possible. Eddie internally cringes before he closes his eyes again, preferring not to see how much she's going to cake onto his cheeks.
"Wow, Dad's looking real pretty," Luke comments, the sarcasm clear as day to his father.
"I can't wait to see how pretty you're going to look," Eddie mumbles back.
"No moving," Eliza instructs.
"Yeah, Dad!" Ryan echoes.
Eliza hums in thought, tilting her head from side to side as she inspects Eddie's face. Her chocolate curls tumble and brush against her cheeks with every movement. Deciding she's done with the blush, she sets that brush down and picks up a golden tube of lipstick. Ryan and Luke watch as she pops the cap off and twists the bottom until a magenta head pops into view. Her dark eyes stare at the color for a moment, silently determining if this is the shade she wants to apply to Eddie's lips. Evidently, she decides she likes this one as she sets the cap down and grips her father's chin once more.
"Pucker!" Eliza instructs.
"Huh?" Eddie asks.
Eliza rolls her eyes, thinking that she needs to teach her father everything when it comes to makeup.
"It means do your lips like this! Like a fish!" Eliza puckers her lips up in example.
Eddie blinks his eyes open and quickly moves in to peck a kiss to Eliza's lips. The little girl giggles and swats her dad away.
"Daddy!" she whines.
"What?" he asks innocently.
"No kisses!"
Eddie pouts, but puckers his lips, nonetheless.
Just like with the eyeshadow, the lipstick does not strictly stick to the part of the face it's meant for. A pinkish purple line goes down towards Eddie's chin and a dot even gets on his left cheek. Eliza nods her approval as she recaps the lipstick and lets it roll from her hand back into the box.
"Done!" she announces.
Eddie pushes himself out of the chair and takes a deep breath. Part of him doesn't want to turn around and look at himself in the mirror hung next to Eliza's closet. But, he knows, the boys are going to make fun of him regardless of if he knows what he looks like or not. He twists towards the mirror and hears both of his sons snicker as they get a full look at his face. Eddie takes in his made-up appearance in the princess-themed mirror and can't focus on one single aspect of the makeup. He looks like a mix between the band KISS and The Joker, he thinks to himself.
"I look pretty," Eddie finally says.
"You do!" Eliza cheers, clapping her hands together. "Ryan, your turn."
With only a minor sigh, Ryan stands up, ready to accept his fate. He walks past his dad, pausing to clap the man on his shoulder.
"Really hoping one of those babies is a girl now, aren't you?" Ryan mumbles softly. "They could give each other makeovers."
Eddie chuckles and turns to face his eldest. "You think that would get us out of this? Ry, we'd just have two girls painting our faces."
Ryan winces as he absorbs his dad's words. "Oh God, you're right."
Eddie laughs and gives Ryan a push in the direction of the chair he just vacated.
"Alright," Ryan says as he takes a seat. "Glam me up, baby."
Once Eliza has finished with Ryan, he has pink bubblegum eyeshadow, ruby red blush, and coral lipstick. Last but not least, Luke ends up with forest green eyeshadow--which he complains clashes with his blue eyes, pinkish orange blush, and wine red lipstick.
"Now," Eliza declares as she packs up her makeup kit, "time for tea. Everyone sit." She wipes her hands off, clapping them against one another, as she walks up to the table to join her guests. "Oh, no! I forgot we need tea. Daddy?" She grabs the large pink teapot in the middle of the table and holds it out towards Eddie. "Can you put water in this?"
"No real tea?" Luke complains, jaw dropped in mock shock.
"Real tea gross," Eliza tells him.
Eddie goes off to fill the pot with water, and Eliza takes her seat next to Luke. The little girl swings her legs beneath the table and smooths out the skirt of the overall dress she's wearing. Footsteps approach the bedroom and Eliza kicks her legs faster in anticipation for the imbibements' arrival. But when it isn't Eddie that enters the doorway, but you, Eliza gasps and runs over to give you a hug.
"Mama!"
"Hey, sweet pea." You reach down and rub her back as she wraps her arms around your hips. "What've you got going on in here?" You look up and see Ryan and Luke's faces for the first time. A snort of laughter escapes you before you manage to press your lips together to keep it in.
"We're having a tea party!" Eliza tells you.
"I see," you say, struggling to keep your laughter inside. "May I join you?"
Your daughter's eyes light up and it pangs your heart that you haven't gotten to play with her as much lately.
"Yes!" Eliza squeals. She takes your hand and drags you over to the table in the middle of her room.
"Why doesn't she need makeup?" Luke asks as you forgo a small pink chair and opt to take a seat on the floor.
"Because she's already pretty," Eliza says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh, Eliza," you say, placing your hand on her arm as you make yourself as comfortable as possible. "Can you go into my nightstand and grab my camera?"
"Okay!"
Eliza speeds out of the room and you turn to look at your sons again. This time, your laughter flows freely.
"Really?" Ryan asks, glaring at you. "A camera?"
"What?" you ask, putting on an innocent act. "You two look so handsome."
"This is your fault," Luke says. "We had to fill in for tea party because somebody is too busy carrying twins."
"Hey," you say, leaning back on one hand as the other comes to rest on your bump. "It takes two to tango, kid."
"I don't need to think about you two tangoing," Luke says with a shudder.
"Got it!" Eliza exclaims as she runs back into the room.
"Thank you, baby," you say as you accept it from her.
Both boys groan as you turn the device on and hold it up to take a few pictures of the two of them.
"Alright, alright, here's our tea," Eddie says as he strolls back into the room. He stops short when he sees you sitting on the floor, holding a camera. Some water sloshes out of the spout of the tea pot and splashes on his socked-foot, but he doesn't acknowledge it.
Before you can get the camera up to snap a picture of your husband, you take in his blue eye shadow, pink cheeks, and purple lips. Cackling laughter breaks forth from you and you roll backwards, flopping flat on your back on the sandy-colored carpet. Tears start to roll down your face, both hands holding your bump as you lose all control of your laughter. Eliza, just as much your daughter as she is Eddie's, swipes up the camera and takes a few shots of Eddie before he can move or protest. Once she's succeeded in capturing the evidence, Eliza begins to laugh as well, mostly due to your own reaction. She lays down on the floor next to you, giggling wildly as she rolls over and buries her head in your shoulder.
"I don't know what's so funny," Eddie says, recovering enough to walk forward and set the full teapot down on the table. He retakes his seat in a small pink chair and turns his nose up. "I think we look rather ravishing."
It's impossible for you to reply since you can't catch your breath. Both of your sons can't help but smile at your boisterous laughter either. They let you get it out for a few minutes, sitting there silently as you girls roll around on the floor. Finally, it begins to subside within you and you're able to catch your breath. Tears leave tracks down your cheeks, and you reach up to rub your eyes.
"Oh my God, that was great." you say.
Eliza pushes herself up off the floor and plops down into the remaining pink chair. She smiles at you as you try to push yourself back up into a sitting position. Only...you're not able to. Your bump makes it impossible for you to get back up without any help. Of course, Luke notices this.
"Oh, does someone need help now? Now that she's done laughing at us?" he asks.
"No," you say with a shake of your head. "I've got Liza."
Your daughter nods and slips from her seat. She walks behind you and tries to help by pushing on your shoulder blades. As strong as she is for such a tiny girl, Eliza isn't able to help upright you.
"Come on, you," Eddie says, sliding out of his chair to kneel next to you.
"You're gonna help her?" Ryan asks. "After all that laughing? And those blackmail photos?"
"Yeah, I kind of promised something about helping her off the ground if she's stuck during our wedding vows and all," he answers.
You grab your husband's hand, and he uses his other one to press against your back, easily rocking you back up to a seated position. You take a deep breath and nod your head in thanks.
"Thank you, my pretty husband."
"You really want to thank me?" he asks. "How about a kiss?"
A shrill squeal that could rival Eliza's escapes you as Eddie begins to press magenta-smeared kisses all over your face.
"I'll save you, Mama!" Eliza calls. She tries to force herself between you and Eddie but only manages to get her own face full of colorful kiss marks.
"Daddy!" she squeaks. "I said no kisses!"
"Aw, come on!" he says. "I'm just trying to share my makeup with you!"
"It's time for teeeeeea!" she yells.
"Okay, okay," Eddie says, ceasing his attack on the two of you. With a deep breath, he hikes himself back into his little pink chair.
Eliza attempts to wipe some of the smudged lipstick off your face as you try to do the same for her. Neither of you succeed, only managing to make bigger messes of one another.
"Oh, well," you say with a chuckle. "We'll be pretty like the boys for this tea party."
Eliza nods and puts herself back in her chair. She shakes her hair off of her face, frizzy brown curls falling to the sides to reveal her pink-purple face. With small hands she smooths back some stray pieces that won't cooperate.
"So pretty."
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#dad!eddie#AYW#AYWS#request
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𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 - ( h. jisung. )
pairing: dilf!Han Jisung x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers
words: 26.8k. summary: jisung is a father, y/n is desperate for a job and Seyeon likes her too much.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 ( masterlist ) . Spotify playlist .
warnings: dirty talks, soft!dom jisung, unprotected sex (be mindful), breeding, oral (fem receiving.)
Seyeon it's a papa's girl. She took the Jisung's cheeks, and her mother's eyes, the kindness of her father but the attitude of her mom. She always tell when she doesn't want something.
"I don't like the zoo!" Jisung sigh, at the yet another attempt to take her daughter to the big gate of the zoo, the colours of the funny animals all over the signs, making every kids gasp in happiness. On the other hand, Seyeon hates the zoo.
"why sweet cheeks? you were so happy to come here with daddy," Jisung knee down in front of her little girl, both of them pouting softly, both of them don't want to hurt the other. "it reminds me of mommy, I wanna go with mommy!”
After the separation of the two parents the situation always been really hard, Seyeon never wanted to stay with Jisung for more than two days, she doesn’t like the small bit luxurious apartment that jisung as in Seoul, she loves Mom’s house right in front of the ocean Incheon. She doesn’t like the fact that her father as a cat, the mother as a dog. She doesn’t like going around with her daddy in his studio because she can’t play, she loves passing time with her mom in her painting room. They are just in two different worlds.
That’s why it never worked out. Jisung been always busy with his career as the most successful kpop artist in his group, when he met the mother in Japan, he thought right the way that she was the one. For years they kept the relationship private, for the amount of fanbase that Jisung was having, was making the girl uncomfortable. But they end up married. A beautiful marriage that everyone was loving, the parents accepted and the fans not totally supportive. As soon as Seyeon born, he knows something between him and her wife was breaking apart.
They started with a separation, living in two different places, and then the divorce was imminent. Seyeon at the age of five years old saw her father just twice a month, but after jisung retired from the band to start his career as a producer, he wanted to pass more time with her daughter.
That’s why they are at the zoo, because jisung remember that when she was three the zoo was her favourite place ever. “sweet cheeks, it’s.. just me and you today. a seyeonnie and daddy day!” He try to cheers up the little girl, making her pout just growing, but she start to walk. At the end, she’s still a papa’s girl. And she doesn't want him to report her bad attitude to her mother.
"what do you wanna see first, princess?" Seyeon mumble an answer, that jisung doesn't understand but her little hand guide his to the big spot for the lions. The man get lost in the moment, the beautiful creatures are playing around and he grabs his phone to take some pictures of it, just as a memory.
He let his daughter's hand for a second, "do you want to take a picture for mommy babygirl?"
Jisung turns to look at his side and he can't see his little girl, he's panicking at this point. He's shouting her name, trying to find her in every spot that the little girl could hide, he's so close to grab the phone and call the police when she hear her little laugh.
Her adorable laugh. He turns so quickly to get the dizziness from it, but he doesn't care, he totally lost his daughter in the zoo. When he lands his eyes on the girl she see her playing some hand-game with another woman, Seyeon it's laughing and giggling for the mistakes that they are making and you are holding her on your lap.
"Seyeon!" He calls her out as he start to get closer to them, with a speedy walk, he almost trip as you look up at him with a surprised look. "baby, I am so sorry." Copious tears dropping from his eyes, making his puffy cheeks turning red, he lift his daughter from your lap, hugging her tight. "daddy is so sorry sweet cheeks."
"don't worry daddy! I was with y/n! she's sooo nice!" The little girl squeak in a giggle, making jisung turn his head to you, an awkward smile on your face. "hi?"
You smile softly at Jisung's awkward greeting, your eyes meeting his as the moment hangs in the air. Seyeon clings to Jisung tightly, her arms wrapping around his neck while she keeps giggling, completely unfazed by the earlier scare.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Seyeon murmurs, her small voice soothing him. “y/nie is nice. I had fun with her.”
Jisung’s breath hitches as he holds her close. “I shouldn’t have let go of your hand. I was so scared, baby.” His voice cracks slightly, the weight of the moment settling heavily on his chest.
You shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate the situation. "She’s a really special little girl," you say softly, trying to keep the mood light. "And it’s not every day you get to see lions this close." Your words are genuine, but there’s an unspoken tension between you and Jisung.
Seyeon glances between you both, her small fingers twirling a lock of Jisung’s hair absentmindedly. “Daddy, I like y/n,” she says matter-of-factly, her bright eyes shining with innocence. “She paints really pretty pictures like mommy.”
Oh great, another artist, jisung thinks.
Jisung chuckles lightly, a soft smile pulling at his lips despite his earlier panic. “You’re quite the little artist yourself, princess.” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head before turning to you again. “Thank you for keeping her safe... and for being kind to her.”
You nod, feeling a bit more at ease despite the weight of the situation. “It’s nothing, really. She’s a sweet kid.”
Seyeon leans back, resting her head on Jisung’s shoulder, her little hand still firmly entwined with his. The moment feels fleeting, like something precious they don’t want to let go of too soon.
“Well, I should let you two get back to your day,” you say, stepping back slightly. “She clearly enjoys her time with you..?”
"Jisung, I'm Han Jisung," he watches you carefully, his gaze softening. “Would you... like to join us for lunch? a little reward to kept safe my little girl.”
You hesitate for a second, the offer catching you off guard, but Seyeon’s excited nod makes the decision easier. “Okay. Just for lunch.”
Seyeon claps her hands together, excited once more. “Yay! I love lunch with Daddy and y/nie!”
The three of you settle at a cozy corner table in a quiet café inside the zoo. The warm glow of the late afternoon sun filters through the large windows, casting a peaceful ambiance over the scene. Seyeon sits between you and Jisung, her small hands clutching a juice box as she eagerly looks between you both.
Jisung takes a deep breath, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the table. “I never wanted to scare you, y/n,” he says softly. His voice is quieter now, more introspective. “You didn’t have to come with us, but… I’m glad you did.”
You smile softly, watching Seyeon as she drinks her juice, her little hands messy with excitement. “She’s a bright little girl. It was hard to say no.”
Jisung chuckles quietly, his eyes lingering on his daughter. “She gets that from her mother,” he says with a bittersweet smile. “And from me… the stubborn part.”
Seyeon giggles, her head tilting as she looks up at him. “Daddy, can we go to the park later?”
“We’ll see how you’re feeling,” Jisung replies with a wink. “You’ve had quite the adventure today already.”
Seyeon pout a little looking at you like you're in charge for this kind of things, "can you come too? please?" Jisung's eyes wide open, looking at you two before gasping a laugh, "baby I think y/n has her own things to do, don't you think?"
"What things daddy?" Her big doe eyes staring at his soul, he's always been bad at saying no to his daughter.
You watch them interact, their bond so natural, yet it’s clear there’s a depth to Jisung’s love for Seyeon that runs deeper than mere words. It’s the kind of love that only a parent can understand—protective, tender, and sometimes fragile.
“You don’t have to explain,” you say softly. “I understand what you’re trying to do. Being there for her. You’re doing your best, even if it’s hard.”
Jisung’s gaze flickers to yours, holding for a moment longer than necessary. “It’s not just about being her dad. It’s about being someone she can rely on, someone who won’t let go, even when things get messy. I’ve failed her before—too often, honestly. But I want to get it right now.”
Seyeon reaches out, her tiny hand resting on his arm. “You’re the best daddy, though.”
He laughs softly, brushing his fingers through her hair. “You’re the best daughter.”
You take a sip of your drink, the atmosphere soft and unburdened. Seyeon seems to sense the moment, her energy mellowing as she quietly munches on a pastry.
Jisung finally shifts his gaze back to you, his smile fading slightly as he leans in a little closer. “I wanted to apologize for everything—how things ended between me and her mother, the times I wasn’t there for Seyeon the way I should have been. It’s been a journey.”
You nod gently, your expression compassionate. “No need to apologize. Life happens, and we all do the best we can with what we have. You’ve clearly tried.”
There’s a long pause, the quiet hum of the café filling the space between your words. Seyeon’s light laughter bubbles up again as she tries to balance her juice box on her nose, her playful antics bringing a refreshing lift to the moment.
Seyeon suddenly pipes up, cutting through the quiet moment. “Can we get ice cream now?”
Jisung’s eyes sparkle as he glances at you. “Ice cream sounds good, doesn’t it?”
You laugh softly, nodding. “Ice cream is always a good idea.”
The ice cream stand is a lively hub of chatter and sweet aromas. Seyeon giggles as she holds her cone tightly, a swirl of pastel colors already melting down the sides and onto her small hands. Jisung grabs a handful of napkins, gently wiping her sticky fingers with a chuckle. You watch the scene with a warm smile, enjoying how natural and effortless their bond is despite the challenges Jisung hinted at earlier.
As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the streets, Jisung glances over at you. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks softly, nodding toward a quieter corner near a park bench.
Seyeon is too engrossed in her ice cream to notice as you nod, following Jisung to the side. His expression is serious yet gentle, the kind of look that tells you he’s been mulling over something important.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier,” he starts, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “About struggling to find work and trying to figure things out.”
You nod, slightly apprehensive about where this is going. “It’s been tough, yeah. But I’ll figure something out eventually.”
He looks down briefly, then back up at you, his dark eyes steady. “What if you didn’t have to figure it out alone? What if you gave being Seyeon’s nanny a try? Just for a day to start. See how it feels.”
The suggestion catches you off guard. “Me? Her nanny?”
Jisung nods, his expression hopeful but measured. “She adores you already, also she basically asked you. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got a huge list of options, but even if I did… I trust you. And clearly, Seyeon does too.”
You hesitate, unsure of how to respond. “Jisung, I don’t know… I’ve never worked as a nanny before.”
He smiles softly, leaning back against the bench. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to care, and you already do. Plus, I’d be close by if you needed anything. My studio’s right in the area – also I would never leave you alone the first time with her only, she can be pretty pissed off the first time.”
You glance back at Seyeon, who’s sitting on a nearby bench, happily licking her ice cream and humming a tune to herself. The sight of her carefree joy tugs at your heartstrings.
“She does seem pretty attached already,” you admit with a small laugh. “But are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to step into something that’s too personal—”
“It’s not like that,” Jisung interrupts gently. “This isn’t just about convenience. I see how you are with her. She lights up around you in a way that makes me think... maybe this could work.”
You chew on the inside of your cheek, weighing the idea. It’s unconventional, sure, but the sincerity in Jisung’s voice is undeniable. And the truth is, you could use the job, even if it’s temporary.
“I guess I could try it for a day,” you finally say, your voice cautious but open. “See how it goes.”
A relieved smile spreads across Jisung’s face. “That’s all I’m asking. If it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. But…thank you, y/n. Really.”
Before you can reply, Seyeon bounces over, her ice cream cone now just a sticky napkin and a smile. “What are you guys talking about?” she asks, her big eyes darting between the two of you.
Jisung crouches down to her level, a playful grin on his face. “y/n might spend more time with us soon. Would you like that, princess?”
Seyeon gasps, her face lighting up like fireworks. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Please, y/nie!”
You laugh, her enthusiasm infectious. “Okay, okay, calm down. Let’s try it out first and see if you don’t get tired of me.”
“Never!” Seyeon exclaims, throwing her arms around your legs in a tight hug.
Jisung straightens up, his smile softening. “Guess we’ll figure out the details tomorrow? Her mother is out for a couple days and I have her in my apartment.”
“Yeah,” you reply, ruffling Seyeon’s hair as she clings to you. “Tomorrow.”
The three of you start walking again, the sun dipping below the horizon as the city lights flicker on. It’s not the future you imagined for yourself, but maybe—just maybe—it’s a step toward something brighter.
The next morning arrives faster than expected, and you find yourself standing outside Jisung’s apartment, clutching your bag nervously. The sleek, modern building looms above you, its pristine facade reflecting the pale morning light. You take a deep breath, adjusting your jacket as you summon the courage to ring the doorbell.
Within seconds, the door swings open, revealing Jisung, who’s already dressed in casual yet stylish clothes—a hoodie layered under a lightweight jacket, paired with black joggers – you would never tell that he’s in his 30s. His signature round glasses sit on his nose, giving him a surprisingly approachable look despite his celebrity status.
“Morning,” he greets with a warm smile. “Right on time.”
“Yeah,” you reply, forcing a small laugh. “Didn’t want to be late for my… trial run.”
Jisung chuckles, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on in. Seyeon’s been asking about you since she woke up.”
The apartment is as modern and stylish as you’d expect—minimalist furniture, neutral tones, and an impressive wall of windows that offer a panoramic view of Seoul. But despite the sleek design, there are signs of Seyeon’s presence everywhere, even if she doesn’t go there that often. A small table in the corner is covered in crayons and paper, her drawings pinned to the wall above it. A stuffed bunny sits on the couch, one of its ears slightly chewed on, and a trail of tiny sneakers leads toward her bedroom.
“She’s in her room getting dressed,” Jisung explains, closing the door behind you. “It’s her version of a fashion show, so… good luck getting her out anytime soon.”
You laugh, already feeling some of your nerves dissipate. “Sounds like a diva in the making.”
“She gets it from her mom,” Jisung says with a fond smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in his tone. Even if they are not together anymore he really loved her, things moved really slow in their relationship and after her he just had some casual hook ups around – nothing too deep. He’s scared of getting too into a relationship with someone. He clears his throat quickly, motioning toward the kitchen. “Want some coffee? I was just making a pot.”
“Sure, thanks,” you reply, following him into the open kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as Jisung pours two cups, sliding one across the counter to you.
As you sip your coffee, you decide to broach the subject that’s been on your mind. “So… how do you want this to go today? Any specific rules or routines I should know about?”
Jisung leans against the counter, his hands wrapped around his mug. “Honestly, just be yourself. Seyeon’s pretty easygoing once she warms up to someone, and she already seems to adore you. She loves arts and crafts, playing dress-up, and reading, so you’ll probably spend a lot of time doing those things.”
You nod, making mental notes. “Got it. Anything I should avoid?”
He hesitates for a moment, his expression softening. “She might bring up her mom. It’s still a sensitive topic for her, so just… be patient if she does. I try not to push her too much, but sometimes she needs to talk about it.”
“Of course,” you say, your tone reassuring. “I’ll be careful.”
Before Jisung can respond, a loud “Tada!” echoes from the hallway, and Seyeon bursts into the room, twirling in a bright pink tutu over her striped pajamas. Her hair is an adorable mess, with a sparkly headband perched crookedly on top, a grey cat following behind her. The cat’s meowing toward them and it jump on top of the iland of the kitchen, you pass the fingers through the furr.
“What do you think, y/n?” she asks, striking a dramatic pose. “Am I a princess?”
“You’re the most fabulous princess I’ve ever seen,” you reply with a grin, the little girl’s laugh fill the room, at the excited sound the cat runs away making jisung lightly giggle – his pet friend still getting used by the presence of the loud daughter.
Seyeon beams, running over to grab your hand. “Come on! Let’s play dress-up!”
Jisung laughs as she drags you toward her room, her enthusiasm infectious. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he says, shaking his head with amusement. “I’ll be in the studio if you need me, just down the hallway.”
You’re barely able to wave goodbye before Seyeon pulls you into her room—a whirlwind of color and chaos. The walls are painted a soft lavender, and every surface is covered in toys, books, and more clothes than any five-year-old could possibly wear. She immediately begins pulling out tiaras, feather boas, and glittery shoes, chattering excitedly as she explains the “rules” of dress-up.
The morning passes in a blur of laughter and imagination. You and Seyeon transform into royalty, superheroes, and even pirates, complete with cardboard swords and eye patches. Her giggles are contagious, and for a while, you forget all about your nerves or the fact that this is technically a trial job.
When lunchtime rolls around, you head back to the kitchen, where Jisung is already preparing a simple meal of sandwiches and fruit. He glances up as you enter, his face lighting up at the sight of Seyeon riding on your back like a knight on a trusty steed.
“Looks like you two are having fun,” he says, setting the plates on the table.
“The best fun ever!” Seyeon declares, sliding off your back and plopping into a chair.
You smile, taking a seat across from her. “She’s got quite the imagination.”
Jisung watches the two of you with a thoughtful expression, his gaze lingering on how naturally you interact with his daughter. As you help Seyeon with her sandwich, he leans back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Thanks for today,” he says quietly, meeting your eyes. “I know it’s just one day, but… I think this could really work.”
You glance at Seyeon, who’s happily munching away, then back at Jisung. A sense of warmth fills your chest as you realize you’re starting to feel at home in this little corner of their world.
“Yeah,” you reply softly. “I think it could too.”
After lunch, Seyeon insists on showing you her favorite books. She pulls you into the living room, climbing onto the plush couch with a stack of brightly colored storybooks in her arms. You settle in beside her as she excitedly flips through the pages, pointing out her favorite characters and scenes.
“This one’s about a bunny who gets lost but finds his way home,” she says, holding up a book with a soft pastel cover. “Mommy reads it to me all the time.”
Her mention of her mother comes so naturally that it catches you off guard, but you remember Jisung’s advice to let Seyeon talk about it if she wants to. “It sounds like a beautiful story,” you say gently. “Would you like me to read it to you?”
Seyeon nods enthusiastically, scooting closer to you. As you read, she leans against your side, her small hand clutching your arm. By the time you finish the book, she’s curled up next to you, her eyes drooping with sleep.
Jisung steps out of his studio, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. He pauses when he sees the two of you on the couch, a smile spreading across his face. “She’s out, huh?”
“Almost,” you whisper, glancing down at her. “She had a big morning.”
He nods, walking over to lift her gently into his arms. She stirs slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling against his shoulder. Jisung looks at you with a mix of gratitude and something else—something warmer, deeper.
“You’re a natural,” he says quietly as he carries Seyeon to her room.
You follow him to the hallway, leaning against the doorframe as he tucks her into bed. He moves with such care, brushing a strand of hair from her face and placing her stuffed bunny next to her. Watching him, you realize just how deeply he loves his daughter, how much he’s trying to give her the stability she needs.
When he steps back into the hallway, he closes Seyeon’s door with a soft click and turns to you. “Thanks for being so patient with her,” he says. “She’s… well, she’s been through a lot. More than a five-year-old should.”
“She’s a wonderful kid,” you reply honestly. “And she clearly adores you.”
Jisung leans against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “I just want to do right by her, you know? After the divorce… I don’t want her to feel like she’s missing out on anything.”
You nod, understanding the weight of his words. “You’re doing your best, Jisung. And it shows. She’s happy, and that’s what matters.”
He looks at you, his gaze steady. “I meant what I said earlier. I think this could work. You and Seyeon—it’s like you’ve known each other forever.”
A small smile tugs at your lips. “She’s easy to love.”
Jisung’s eyes soften. “She thinks the same about you.”
There’s a pause, a quiet moment where the weight of the conversation hangs in the air. Jisung seems to be considering something, his expression thoughtful.
“If you’re willing,” he says after a moment, “I’d like to make this more than just a trial run. I know it’s only been a day, but… I feel like this is the right fit. For her, and for you.”
Your heart skips a beat at his sincerity. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s a big responsibility.”
“I know,” he replies, his voice firm yet kind. “And I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could handle it. But more than that… I trust you. And so does Seyeon.”
You take a deep breath, the weight of his words settling in your chest. It’s not just a job—it’s a chance to be part of something meaningful, to help this little family heal and grow.
“Okay,” you say finally, a small smile forming. “I’ll do it.”
Jisung’s face lights up with relief and gratitude. “Thank you, y/n. Really.”
Just then, Seyeon’s soft voice calls out from her room, breaking the moment. “Daddy? Y/n?”
Jisung chuckles, pushing off the wall. “Looks like someone’s not quite asleep yet.”
You laugh, following him back to Seyeon’s room. As you step inside, you see her sitting up in bed, her bunny clutched tightly to her chest.
“Did you say yes, y/n?” she asks, her voice laced with sleepiness and hope.
You walk over to her, crouching down so you’re at eye level. “I did. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
Seyeon’s face lights up, and she throws her arms around your neck. “Yay! I love you, y/n.”
Your heart swells at her words, and you glance up at Jisung, who’s watching with a soft smile. In that moment, you realize you’ve found something you didn’t even know you were looking for—a place where you truly belong.
The days quickly settle into a new rhythm. The mornings when Seyeon is at his apartment, you arrive at Jisung’s apartment to find Seyeon waiting for you with excitement bubbling in her tiny frame. Her favorite game is to guess what you’re wearing before you come in—a little ritual she made up—and she squeals with delight when she’s right.
“Pink sweater today! I knew it!” she announces one morning, hopping from foot to foot as you step inside.
“You’re getting too good at this,” you reply, laughing as you hang your bag by the door.
Jisung, already sipping his coffee at the kitchen counter, greets you with a relaxed smile. “She’s been talking about you since she woke up.”
“It’s mutual,” you tease, giving him a mock-serious look. “She’s got me wrapped around her little finger.”
Seyeon beams, running off to grab her crayons and sketchbook. While she sets up at the living room table, Jisung leans against the counter, his gaze warm but thoughtful.
“She really does adore you,” he says softly. “I’ve never seen her take to someone like this before.”
You shrug, a little flustered by his sincerity. “She’s easy to love.”
“So are you,” he replies without thinking, and the words hang in the air for a moment. His eyes widen slightly, as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud, and he quickly turns back to his coffee. “I mean—uh—you’re great with her. That’s all I meant.”
You chuckle, letting him off the hook. “Relax, Jisung. I’ll take the compliment.”
As the weeks pass, your bond with Seyeon grows stronger. You spend hours doing crafts, reading stories, and exploring the nearby parks. She introduces you to her favorite playground and insists on teaching you how to climb the jungle gym, which ends with her laughing hysterically as you awkwardly navigate the narrow bars.
One evening, as you’re helping Seyeon clean up her paints after an afternoon of finger painting, she pauses and looks up at you with her big, expressive eyes.
“Y/n,” she says, her voice small and serious. “Do you think Mommy would like you?”
The question catches you off guard, and you glance over at Jisung, who’s working at the kitchen table. He’s heard her too, his posture stiffening slightly as he waits for your response.
You crouch down to Seyeon’s level, meeting her gaze. “I don’t know, sweetie,” you say honestly. “But I hope so.”
Seyeon seems to think about this for a moment, then nods as if she’s made up her mind. “I think she would. You’re nice. And you make Daddy smile.”
Your breath catches at her words, and you glance at Jisung again. He’s looking at you now, his expression unreadable but soft. There’s something unspoken in the way his gaze lingers, something that makes your heart race.
“Thank you, Seyeon,” you whisper, giving her a gentle hug. “That means a lot.”
It’s a stormy afternoon, the kind where the rain drums against the windows in a steady rhythm, casting a gray haze over the city. You’re busy tidying up Seyeon’s play area when you notice she’s unusually quiet. Normally, she’d be coloring or arranging her toys into elaborate scenes, but today, she’s sitting on the couch, hugging her stuffed bunny with a somber expression.
“Hey, sweetie,” you say gently, walking over to her. “What’s wrong? You’ve been so quiet today.”
Seyeon doesn’t answer right away. She shifts slightly, burying her face in her bunny. After a moment, she mumbles, “I want Mommy.”
The words hit you like a cold splash of water. Seyeon has mentioned missing her mom before is not a new, in these cases you would play a song for making her feel better or just asking her to do something to keep her mind away from the hard times when she is away from her mother - even for just a couple days like their divorce's papers mention. But this time, there’s a weight to her voice that makes your chest ache.
“Of course you do,” you say, crouching down to her level. “It’s okay to miss her, Seyeon.”
She finally looks up at you, her big eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Mommy and Daddy were yelling,” she says, her voice trembling. “I heard them on the phone. Mommy was crying. I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”
You pause, your heart breaking for the little girl. It doesn’t take much to piece together what must have happened—Jisung and his ex-wife must have had an argument, and Seyeon overheard it. You don’t know the details, but it’s clear it’s left her feeling hurt and confused.
“I’m so sorry you heard that, sweetie,” you say softly. “That must have been really hard.”
Seyeon nods, her lip trembling. “It was scary. I don’t want Daddy to be mad at Mommy.”
You sit down beside her, giving her space but staying close enough that she knows you’re there. “Sometimes grown-ups get upset with each other, and they say things they don’t mean,” you explain. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t love you. Your mommy and daddy both love you so much, Seyeon. That’s the most important thing.”
“I still want Mommy,” she whispers, clutching her bunny tighter.
You’re about to respond when Jisung walks in from the hallway. He must have heard part of the conversation because his expression is filled with a mix of guilt and concern. He kneels beside you and reaches out for Seyeon, but she shrinks away, clutching her bunny even tighter.
“Seyeonnie, baby,” Jisung says softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry you heard that. Daddy didn’t mean to make you upset.”
Seyeon shakes her head, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “You were mean to Mommy! I don’t want to stay here! I want her!”
The words hit Jisung hard, and you can see the pain in his eyes. He glances at you, silently asking for help.
“Seyeon,” you say gently, shifting closer to her. “It’s okay to feel upset. But maybe we can talk about it together. Would you like to tell Daddy how you’re feeling?”
She sniffles, her tiny body trembling with emotion. “I don’t want to talk to Daddy,” she says quietly. Then, looking at you, she adds, “And I don’t want to talk to you either. I just want Mommy.”
The rejection stings, but you remind yourself that this isn’t about you. It’s about Seyeon needing to process her feelings in her own way. It's a part of your current job: being able to tell when their feelings are real or just overwhelming by things around her.
Jisung sits back on his heels, running a hand through his hair. “Sweetheart, I’ll call Mommy, and we can figure out a time for you to see her soon, okay? But right now, we’re here for you. Me and y/n both.”
Seyeon doesn’t respond, turning away and curling up on the couch. Jisung looks at you again, his expression helpless.
You stand up and gently place a hand on his arm. “Let’s give her a little space,” you whisper.
He nods reluctantly, and the two of you step into the kitchen. Once you’re out of earshot, Jisung leans against the counter, his shoulders slumping. “I messed up,” he mutters. “I never should have let her hear that.”
“It’s not your fault, Jisung,” you say quietly. “These things happen. She’s just overwhelmed right now.”
He looks at you, his eyes filled with worry. “What do I do? She doesn’t even want to look at me.”
“Give her time,” you suggest. “Let her know you’re here when she’s ready to talk. And maybe call her mom—just hearing her voice might help Seyeon feel better. She will swing around jisung don't worry.”
He nods, pulling out his phone. As he dials, you glance back at the living room. Seyeon is still curled up on the couch, her bunny held close, but something tells you she’s listening.
A little later, after Jisung has arranged a call between Seyeon and her mom, you bring over a small plate of cookies and a glass of milk. You don’t say anything, just set it on the table near her and sit down in a chair a few feet away. Slowly, Seyeon uncurls, reaching for a cookie.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers after a few moments, her voice barely audible.
You smile softly, your heart aching with tenderness. “You don’t have to be sorry, sweetie. It’s okay to feel sad or mad. We all feel that way sometimes.”
Seyeon nods, nibbling on the cookie. Then, tentatively, she scoots closer to you. “Will you stay with me?”
“Of course,” you say, your voice steady and reassuring. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For now, that’s enough. And as Seyeon leans her head against your arm, you glance over at Jisung, who gives you a small, grateful smile. Together, you’ll help Seyeon through this—one step at a time.
It’s late evening when your phone buzzes with a message from Jisung. You’re already home, curled up on your couch, replaying the events of the day in your mind. You studied all day for the upcoming exams, all day in that for walls of your apartment.
Jisung: Hey, are you free tonight? Could you come over? Seyeon’s not here, but… I’d really like to talk.
You stare at the message for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. It’s unusual for him to ask for your company when Seyeon isn’t around. That makes you slightly nervous but after a moment of hesitation, you reply.
You: Sure. I’ll be there in 20. You: should I be worried?
You chew your nail lightly, three dots moving on the screen as you start to get really agitated about what could actually mean. Does he want to end up things? does he think it's not necessary for him to have a nanny?
Jisung: silly, no, just wanna talk :)
When you arrive at Jisung’s apartment, he greets you at the door, his expression a mix of relief and exhaustion. He’s dressed casually in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair slightly disheveled, and you can tell immediately that he’s been overthinking.
“Thanks for coming,” he says softly, stepping aside to let you in.
“Of course,” you reply, setting your bag down by the door. “How’s Seyeon?”
“She’s with her mom this week, as usual,” he explains, leading you to the couch. “I thought it might be better for her to spend some time there, especially after what happened last Sunday. But she's coming tomorrow morning so, you come to work like always.”
You nod, sitting down beside him. “That makes sense. How are you holding up?”
He exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? Not great. I feel like I let her down. She heard things she shouldn’t have, and now she doesn’t even want to be around me.”
“She’s a little girl, Jisung,” you say gently. “She’s still figuring out how to handle her emotions. It's not easy to be a parent and it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”
He looks at you, his eyes filled with vulnerability. “I know you’re right, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m failing her. I just… I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”
You place a reassuring hand on his arm. “No parent has it all figured out. The fact that you care so much about her shows what a great dad you are. And she knows that, even if she’s upset right now.”
Jisung leans back against the couch, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “I’ve been thinking about that day—about how you handled everything. You were so patient with her, even when she pushed you away. You’re amazing with her, y/n.”
You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words. “I just want what’s best for her. She’s a wonderful kid.”
He turns his head to look at you, his expression soft. “You’re wonderful too. I don’t know what I would’ve done today without you. Since the day we met at the zoo, everything with you seems to.. find the right place.”
There’s a long pause, the weight of his words settling between you. Finally, he sits up straighter, his brow furrowed in thought.
“Y/n, I didn’t ask you over just to vent,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking… Seyeon’s been through so much with the divorce, and I know I can’t fix everything for her. But having you around—it’s made such a difference. For her and for me.”
You blink, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze. “Jisung…”
“I don’t just mean as her nanny,” he continues quickly, his words tumbling out. “I mean… as someone I can rely on. Someone who’s already become such an important part of our lives. I don’t want to cross any boundaries or make things weird, but—”
“You’re not,” you interrupt gently, placing a hand on his knee to calm his rambling. “I understand what you’re trying to say.”
His shoulders relax slightly, but his eyes remain fixed on yours. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re more than just Seyeon’s nanny to me. And I don’t know where this could go, but I’d like to find out. If you’re willing.”
The room feels suddenly smaller, the air charged with unspoken possibilities. You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, his eyes so big and soft makes you shivers.
“I care about you too, Jisung,” you admit softly. “And I care about Seyeon. I want to be here for both of you, but… we need to be careful. For her sake.”
He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I agree. She comes first, always. But I don’t want to let this—whatever this is—slip away.”
“Let’s take it one step at a time,” you say gently.
Jisung nods, relief and hope flickering in his eyes. “One step at a time,” he agrees.
The next morning, you arrive at Jisung’s apartment right on time, ready to start your day with Seyeon. As you step inside, you’re greeted by the familiar hum of activity—the soft sound of music playing from the speakers, the faint smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen, and Seyeon’s little voice drifting from her play area.
She’s sitting on the floor in her pajamas, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. When she spots you, her face lights up in a way that makes your heart swell.
“y/n!” she exclaims, running over to you with her bunny clutched in one hand. “Look! I made a picnic for my friends!”
You crouch down to her level, admiring the intricate arrangement of plates, cups, and plastic food. “This looks amazing, Seyeon! Did you set this all up by yourself?”
She nods proudly, her curls bouncing. “Uh-huh! But you’re late, so we already ate the sandwiches.”
You gasp playfully. “Oh no! I missed the sandwiches? What am I going to eat now?”
Seyeon giggles, pulling you by the hand to sit down with her. “You can have dessert! We have cake and cookies.”
Jisung walks in at that moment, a mug of coffee in his hand. He leans against the doorway, watching the two of you with a soft smile. “Looks like you’ve been invited to the fanciest picnic in town,” he teases.
A blush spread on your face, remembering about the conversation that you had with Jisung the night before, “Only the best for me,” you reply with a grin, pretending to nibble on an invisible cookie. Seyeon bursts into another fit of giggles, clearly delighted by the attention.
The morning passes in a blur of laughter and playtime. You and Seyeon build a towering castle out of blocks, only for her to gleefully knock it down moments later. She insists on showing you her latest drawings, and you listen intently as she explains the story behind each one.
But it’s during her naptime that the moment when jisung is casually off work on his productions session.. After reading her favourite bedtime story, you tuck her in, smoothing the blanket over her small frame. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, but just as you’re about to leave, she reaches out and grabs your hand.
“y/n?” she whispers, her voice small and drowsy.
“Yes, sweetie?”
She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “Do you think Daddy loves Mommy still?”
The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re at a loss for words. You kneel down beside her bed, meeting her wide, searching eyes.
“I think your daddy loves you more than anything in the whole world,” you say gently. “And sometimes, grown-ups love each other in different ways. But no matter what, he and your mommy will always work together to make sure you’re happy and loved.”
She seems to mull over your words, her eyelids fluttering as sleep begins to take over. “Do you love Daddy?” she mumbles, her words slurring slightly.
Your breath catches in your throat. “I think your daddy is a very special person,” you say carefully. “And I’m really happy I get to spend time with you and him.”
Seyeon hums in acknowledgment, her grip on your hand loosening as she finally drifts off. You sit there for a moment longer, brushing a stray curl from her forehead before quietly slipping out of the room. The realisation hits hard, she asked you a question that really makes you in difficulty, your hands are lightly sweaty after the careful words that you let hanging in her room.
You walk out closing the door behind you, as you’re cleaning up in the living room, Jisung comes in from his studio. He’s wearing his headphones around his neck and looks a little more relaxed than he did yesterday.
“She’s asleep?” he asks, leaning against the couch.
“Out like a light,” you reply with a smile. “She was so busy today, she didn’t stand a chance.”
Jisung chuckles, his eyes softening. “Thank you for being so patient with her. I know she can be a handful sometimes.”
“She’s a sweetheart,” you say, brushing off his praise. “And she adores you, Jisung. You’re doing a great job, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”
There’s a pause, the air between you warm and comfortable. Jisung sits down beside you, his gaze flickering to the kitchen before settling back on you.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he starts, his voice quieter now. “About taking things one step at a time. I just want you to know how much it means to me that you’re here. Not just for Seyeon, but for me too.”
Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a blush creeping up your neck. “I’m happy to be here,” you admit softly.
The days pass, and your bond with Seyeon—and with Jisung—deepens. Seyeon grows more comfortable around you, often seeking you out for everything from help with her drawings to impromptu dance performances in the living room. Jisung, in turn, seems to relax more in your presence, his usual walls lowering bit by bit.
One afternoon, after a particularly lively dance session with Seyeon that left you both giggling on the carpet, Jisung calls you into the kitchen. He’s preparing a snack for Seyeon, but the way he keeps glancing at you suggests he has something on his mind.
“y/n, can we talk for a second?” he asks, his voice cautious but kind.
“Of course,” you reply, leaning against the counter. “What’s up?”
He sets down the knife he’s been using to slice fruit and turns to face you fully. “I’ve been thinking about how much things have changed since you started working with us. You’ve brought so much stability into Seyeon’s life. And mine.”
You feel a mix of pride and nervousness at his words. “I’m glad I’ve been able to help,” you say sincerely. “She’s such a special little girl. And you’re doing an amazing job as her dad.”
“I know we agreed to take things slow,” he continues, his gaze steady but vulnerable. “But I can’t ignore how much you mean to both of us. I care about you, y/n. A lot. And I want to know if you feel the same.”
For a moment, the room feels impossibly still. Then, you nod, a small, shy smile spreading across your face.
“I do, Jisung,” you admit. “But I’ve been trying to be careful—for Seyeon’s sake.”
He nods, his expression softening. “I know. And I appreciate that more than you know. I just… I don’t want to let this slip away. I want us to figure this out—together.”
Before you can respond, a small voice interrupts from the doorway.
“Daddy?”
Both of you turn to see Seyeon standing there, her bunny clutched to her chest. Her hair is a little messy from her earlier playtime, and her wide eyes dart between the two of you.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Jisung says gently, crouching down to her level. “What’s wrong?”
Seyeon hesitates, then shuffles over to him. “Can y/n stay for dinner? And maybe… can we all watch a movie after?" The innocence of her request tugs at your heart, and Jisung glances up at you with a smile.
“What do you say?” he asks.
You kneel down beside them, matching Seyeon’s level. “I’d love to stay. But only if I get to pick the movie,” you tease, earning a giggle from the little girl.
As Seyeon throws her arms around both of you, pulling you into a spontaneous group hug, you realize how much this little family means to you—and how much you’re starting to mean to them.
Dinner that evening feels warm and lively, the kind of atmosphere that wraps around you like a cozy blanket. Jisung insists on cooking, and though the meal is simple—grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup—it feels perfect. Seyeon sits at the table, swinging her legs beneath her chair as she chatters about her favorite animals and what movie she thinks you should all watch.
“I think we should watch Moana!” Seyeon declares, her cheeks puffing as she takes a bite of her sandwich.
Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t we just watch that last weekend?”
“But y/n hasn’t watched it with us!” Seyeon protests, her pout making you chuckle.
“I’d love to watch Moana,” you say, playfully nudging her. “But only if you promise to sing the songs with me.”
Her face lights up, and she practically bounces in her seat. “Okay! I’ll sing the Maui parts, and you can be Moana!”
Jisung laughs, shaking his head. “Guess I’m stuck being the chicken, huh?”
Seyeon giggles, and the sound fills the room, light and contagious. You catch Jisung’s eye across the table, and for a moment, the two of you share a look—one that feels like a silent agreement, a shared understanding that this little moment is something special.
After dinner, you all settle into the living room. Seyeon grabs her favorite blanket and curls up between you and Jisung on the couch. The lights are dimmed, the opening scene of Moana playing on the TV.
Seyeon sings along enthusiastically, her little voice bright and unrestrained. You join in at her insistence, your laughter mingling with hers as you both belt out the lyrics. Jisung, true to his word, adds exaggerated squawks whenever Hei Hei, the chicken, is on screen, earning peals of laughter from his daughter.
At one point, Seyeon leans her head against your arm, her tiny hand resting on your lap. The gesture is small but significant, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. When you glance over at Jisung, you notice he’s watching the two of you with a soft expression, his smile tinged with something deeper. His hand moves over your shoulder behind the couch, tracing pattern on your skin; shivers running down your spine.
As the movie progresses, Seyeon’s energy begins to wane. By the time Moana reaches Te Fiti, she’s fast asleep, her head now resting on your shoulder. You glance down at her peaceful face, her bunny tucked securely in her arms.
“She’s out,” you whisper, careful not to wake her.
Jisung nods, a fond smile on his lips. “She had a big day. And I think all that singing wore her out.”
You laugh softly, shifting slightly to make sure Seyeon is comfortable. “Do you want me to move her to her bed?”
Jisung shakes his head. “No, let her stay for a bit. She looks comfortable.”
For a while, the two of you sit in companionable silence, the credits of the movie rolling on the screen. Seyeon’s gentle breathing fills the room, a steady rhythm that feels grounding.
“Thank you for staying tonight,” Jisung says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You look over at him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the TV. “I’m happy to be here,” you reply honestly.
Jisung hesitates for a moment before reaching out, his hand brushing against yours on the couch. The touch is light, tentative, but it sends a wave of warmth through you. When you don’t pull away, he intertwines his fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
You smile at him, your heart full as you glance down at Seyeon. In this moment, surrounded by quiet warmth and the soft hum of contentment, you feel like you’ve found a place where you truly belong.
Jisung carefully scoops Seyeon into his arms, her bunny still clutched tightly to her chest. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her little face peaceful as she nestles closer to her father. He glances at you with a small smile before carrying her to her room.
You stay on the couch, tidying up the throw blankets and pillows, unsure if you should take your leave or wait for him to return. The quiet hum of the apartment makes you feel strangely calm, and yet, there’s a nervous energy lingering in the air.
A few minutes later, Jisung emerges from Seyeon’s room, shutting the door softly behind him. He looks tired but content, his hands resting on his hips as he walks back toward you.
“Is she okay?” you ask softly.
“Out like a light,” he replies with a chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “She didn’t even let go of that bunny.”
You smile, standing up and grabbing your bag. “Well, I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”
Jisung’s expression shifts slightly, a mix of hesitation and something deeper flashing across his face. “Wait,” he says, his voice quiet but urgent. “Can you… stay a little longer? Just me and you?”
His request catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. But the trill of being alone with him keeps you rooted in place.
“Okay,” you say softly, setting your bag back down. “I can stay.”
The room feels quieter, the hum of conversation and laughter from earlier fading into a gentle stillness. Jisung steps closer, his gaze searching yours, as if trying to find the words that have been building between you both. His hand brushes against yours lightly, a soft touch that lingers a moment too long to be innocent.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice a whisper against the space between you. There’s a hesitation in his eyes, a vulnerability that pulls at your heart. You feel an electric spark, a tender moment that feels like it belongs only to you both.
“You didn’t have to ask,” you respond quietly, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. “I wanted to stay.”
He smiles faintly, his lips parting just slightly as if savoring the words you’ve given him. The air shifts, thick with unspoken desires and a quiet understanding that needs no elaboration. Your heart beats faster, anticipation making every breath feel heavier.
“Good,” he says simply, his voice smooth and low, a melody in itself. His hand slides fully into yours, fingers intertwining in a way that feels natural, almost inevitable. “Just you and me.”
Jisung move even closer, the space between you vanishing as his confidence grows. His gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes holding yours with a quiet intensity that sends shivers down your spine. Without a word, he lifts a hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary.
“Are you sure?” he asks softly, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends a thrill through you. His breath brushes against your skin, warm and inviting. “Because I don’t want to rush this.”
You nod gently, heart fluttering as your fingers tighten around his. The world around you feels distant, every sense focused solely on him—on the way he looks at you, the way his presence consumes the room. His smile deepens, a playful glint lighting up his expression as he leans in just a bit more, the space between you almost nonexistent.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs, his lips a breath away from yours. “I don’t want to waste another second.”
Your breath catches, the heat in the room intensifying. His gaze is captivating, his touch electric, and the way he holds you makes every moment feel like something sacred. You tilt your head slightly, allowing him to close the distance. His lips press softly against yours, a tender kiss that speaks of patience and desire—a perfect balance of softness and passion. His lips barely brushing against yours. He can feel you gasp slightly at the sudden action, but he holds your chin with one hand and keeps you close, prolonging the kiss for a few more seconds before pulling away, a smirk on his face. "Not so talkative now, are we?"
You giggles, blushing in face as you cover your mouth a little, "you just kissed me! what you wanted me to say? kiss me more?"
His smirk grows bigger, "that doesn't sounds so bad-" you grabs lightly the sides of his hoodie, clenching your fingers as you is breathless. Pulling him for another kiss, he lets out a small gasp of surprise, but then melts into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. His arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you flush against his body. This time the kiss is more intense, deeper, hungrier.
You ends up on his lap, straddling it and his hands vanishing on your curves, the arch of your back to groping your ass gently, his hands makes you shivers.
A little gasp leaving your lips when his fingers digs on your rear, "u-uhm jisung.." you mumble, your lips for how badly you want to move away to stop the passionate moments, they keeps asking for more from jisung.
“Hm?” He hums as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, his so needy, so messy, and you’re loving every second of it, even if you cannot stop thinking about his daughter being just in the room down the hallway.
You move your lips apart letting his tongue meeting his in need, his hands pressing down your hips against his lap, you can feel his hardness through his clothes and it’s so damn sexy that your pussy start to pulse. “Seyeon.. she might.. wake up..”
Gasps between kisses, your lips are locked with him as he suck gently your tongue making you moan under your breath, he’s such a good kisser.
Before either of you can say more, the sound of a tiny voice cuts through the moment.
“Daddy! I need you!”
Seyeon’s voice, muffled but unmistakable, drifts out from her bedroom down the hall.
Both of you freeze in place, eyes wide and suddenly aware of the situation, you’re still on his lap, he’s still hard as hell and his hands are holding your ass.
“Oh no,” Jisung mutters, glancing toward her room. “Not now.”
You giggle softly, a nervous laugh that’s quickly overtaken by a chuckle. “You have to go,” you whisper, trying to hold back the laughter bubbling up. “She’s calling for you.”
Jisung groans dramatically, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before shaking his head. “She couldn’t have waited just five more minutes?”
“I think those five minutes would’ve take us in another situation,” you respond with a smirk, you move from his lap, standing up and fixing your clothes at the best. “Duty calls.”
He sighs, turning toward her room. “I’ll be right there, sweet cheeks!”
You make a beeline for the front door, grabbing your bag in a hurry, trying to stifle your laughter as you hear Seyeon giggling softly through the wall.
You poke your head back into the living room just as Jisung kneels beside her bed, trying his best to soothe her back to sleep. His expression is slightly flustered, and you can’t help but laugh one last time at the sheer comical timing.
“Goodnight, Jisung!” you call out with a wink. “Good luck!”
“Thanks,” he replies with a sheepish grin, though his voice carries a touch of relief when you finally step out the door.
As the door clicks shut behind you, the sound of Seyeon’s laughter and Jisung’s soothing voice floats into the night, and you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face.
Maybe next time, there will be fewer interruptions. But for tonight, the memory of that unexpected moment will stay with you.
It’s been almost seven months that you work for Jisung, since that day at the zoo you’re life almost switched. You passed almost every day waiting for the Saturday morning to see that little girl and her, very hot, daddy. Dawns with a quiet stillness in Jisung’s apartment. You arrive early to find Seyeon still curled up in bed, her little face flushed with fever and her bunny clutched tightly in her arms. Her soft coughs echo through the room, and it’s clear she’s not feeling her usual energetic self.
He told you by text that she was not feeling very well but the mother had to go on a business trip and she had to crash at his place for the rest of the weekend. Jisung is already in the kitchen, his own expression worn with worry, a damp towel pressed to his forehead. His hair is slightly messy, and his usually sharp eyes are dulled with fatigue. He turns when he hears your footsteps, his smile tired but appreciative.
“Good morning,” he greets you softly. “Sorry you had to see me like this.”
You step into the kitchen and take the towel from his hand, gently replacing it with a fresh one. “You look worse than Seyeon,” you tease lightly, though your concern is genuine. “Are you okay?”
He chuckles weakly, leaning against the counter. “Not exactly the most glamorous morning, huh?”
“No, but someone has to be the adult,” you say with a grin, though you glance over at Seyeon with a frown. “Let me handle her. You rest.”
“I would kiss you if I could,” He pout lightly toward you, almost playfully trying to steal a breif kiss from your lips.
Your giggles making him feel lightly better, “Don’t even try.”
Jisung sighs, grateful for your presence, and moves toward the couch. He collapses onto it with a sigh, his breathing steady but slow, clearly feeling the effects of whatever sickness has taken hold of both him and his daughter.
You walk softly into Seyeon’s room, pulling back the curtains to let the morning light in gently. She blinks up at you, her little face pale but her bright eyes still wide with curiosity.
“Hi, sweet cheeks,” you murmur, sitting down beside her bed. “How are you feeling?”
She sniffles, hugging her bunny tighter. “Daddy’s not feeling good either.”
You glance toward the living room, where Jisung lies sprawled out, looking almost worse than she does. “Yeah, well, Daddy might need some extra care too.” You ruffle her hair gently, trying to lift her spirits. “Let’s get you some breakfast, okay?”
Seyeon nods softly, her tiny hand wrapping around yours as you help her sit up. Her fever is still high, but her energy, though subdued, is still there. You prepare a light breakfast—warm soup, soft toast, and water—and sit with her at the dining table.
Meanwhile, Jisung has managed to find the strength to make his way to the kitchen, his movements slow but determined. He leans against the doorway, watching you with a quiet admiration, a small smile touching his lips as you care for his daughter.
“You don’t have to do all this,” he says softly, his voice hoarse from his own illness.
You glance up, offering him a reassuring smile. “You’re not alone in this, Jisung. She needs both of you right now.”
He breathes out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing at your words. “Thank you, y/n. For everything.”
“It’s what friends do,” you reply, though your heart aches a little at how fragile the moment feels. Taking care of them both—so sick and vulnerable—is more than just a task. It feels personal. It feels like family.
Also the fact that you called him ‘friend’ makes a fool out of you.
As the day stretches on, you find yourself handling both Jisung and Seyeon with gentle care, managing meals, administering medicine, and even tucking them into bed for naps. They may be ill, but there’s a quiet warmth that fills the apartment, a sense of support and togetherness that feels like a foundation for something more.
When the evening arrives, Seyeon is finally asleep in her room, and Jisung, though still weak, sits upright on the couch. You’re back in the kitchen, making tea for the both of you, the space calming and steady amidst the chaos of the day.
Jisung watches you from the doorway again, his eyes filled with gratitude and something softer—something you recognize as something deeper.
“y/n,” he starts softly, “You didn’t have to stay this long.”
You glance over your shoulder with a small smile. “I wanted to. And I’ll stay as long as you both need me.”
He nods, his expression thoughtful, and then softly says, “You’re incredible.”
You shake your head, pouring the tea. “Not really. Just doing what anyone would.”
But deep down, you know that’s not true. What you’re doing is more than just helping. It’s being there, fully present in a way that neither Jisung nor Seyeon seem to take for granted. And as you set the tea in front of him, watching him take a slow sip, you realize that even amidst sickness, something beautiful is quietly blooming between the three of you.
The evening has settled in a quiet calm after the whirlwind of the day. Seyeon is tucked into her bed, her fever finally lowering thanks to the care and attention she received. You sit beside Jisung on the couch, his body still warm, though not as feverish as earlier.
“I should probably get going soon,” you say softly, your voice gentle as you glance toward him. “You need rest too.”
Jisung leans back against the couch cushions, his eyes closing for a moment. “Just... a little longer,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Please?”
You hesitate, he looks so exhausted, so desperately in need of comfort, that you can’t bring yourself to leave just yet. “Okay,” you whisper, settling beside him on his bed again. “Just for a bit.”
His room is quite big for the apartment that he has, he has a beautiful window that gives the view to the city, a walk-in wardrobe that you can bet filled with crazy outfits that he used for his idol’s life, so many guitars on the wall. And a picture of him, his little girl and probably the ex-wife under a cottage, he’s playing the guitar looking lovely at the mother of Seyeon with her on her lap – they look so.. happy to you.
He lets out a breath, visibly relaxing as you stay close. The warmth of your presence is grounding for him, a welcome relief from the chaos of the past few days.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice softer than before. “For everything.”
You reach out instinctively, brushing a hand against his forehead to check his temperature again. “Still a bit warm,” you note, though it’s not dangerously high anymore. “But at least your fever’s coming down.”
Jisung hums in agreement, his hand instinctively finding yours. His fingers lace with yours, squeezing gently as if grounding himself in your touch. He doesn’t let go this time, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder.
“It’s nice,” he murmurs softly. “Having you here.”
The simple admission surprises you, but it doesn’t feel awkward or forced. Instead, it feels natural, like two people seeking comfort in each other’s presence without the need for words.
You smile softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The silence stretches for a few moments, the world outside fading into the background. You run your fingers through his hair absentmindedly, soothing him in a way that feels effortless. His breathing slows, the warmth of his body against yours steadying with each passing second.
“Stay with me tonight?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the request is clear.
Your heart skips a beat, and though you’d considered leaving earlier, now the thought feels impossible. The tender moment shared between you, his vulnerability, the way he clings to you… it creates a sense of intimacy that feels more profound than anything you’ve experienced before.
“What if Seyeon finds out that I am here? I don’t want to hurt her,” you answer softly.
His arms moves around your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap, your hands still between his curls as his sick eyes find yours, “she doesn’t have to know, we will tell her that you came earlier than usual.”
His grip tightens just a little more. You lay back with him, your arm draped around his waist, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.
It’s quiet again, except for the occasional sound of his breathing slowing into a peaceful rhythm. You stay like that, cradling him in your care, the weight of the moment grounding and beautiful.
Jisung shifts slightly, his body instinctively seeking more comfort in the warmth of your presence. His head dips, and before you realize it, he’s nestled against your chest, his cheek pressed to the soft fabric of your shirt. His breathing is steady but heavy with exhaustion, the fever leaving him unusually vulnerable.
You stiffen for a moment, caught off guard by the intimacy of the gesture. But when you glance down and see his peaceful expression—eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his lashes casting delicate shadows against his flushed cheeks—you feel your heart soften.
“Jisung,” you whisper gently, brushing your fingers through his hair to see if his fever has spiked again. His temperature is still warm but manageable, the worst of it seemingly passed for now.
Instead of waking, he hums softly, his hand gripping the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. The gesture tugs at your heartstrings, his vulnerability clear in the way he clings to you, seeking solace even in his sleep.
You sigh softly, wrapping your arms around him with a tenderness you didn’t know you could offer so easily. “You’re really something else,” you murmur, your lips curving into a gentle smile as you stroke his hair rhythmically.
His breathing evens out further, and the weight of his body against yours becomes a grounding comfort. As the moments pass, you lean your head back against the pillow, letting the quiet intimacy of the situation settle over you.
It’s not what you expected when you agreed to stay, but now, with Jisung pressed close, his warmth radiating against you, it feels like exactly where you’re meant to be. You close your eyes, resting your chin lightly on the top of his head, and let the stillness carry you both into a rare and cherished peace.
The first rays of sunlight seep through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room. You stir slightly, the ache in your back and the unfamiliar weight on your chest bringing you back to consciousness. Blinking a few times, you glance down and freeze.
Jisung is still draped over you, his head nestled against your chest, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His soft, even breaths tickle your skin, and his tousled hair brushes against your chin. It’s a startlingly intimate position, and your cheeks flush as the reality of the situation sets in.
You try to move subtly, hoping not to wake him, but the slight shift causes him to stir. He groans softly, his face nuzzling against you like a contented cat seeking more warmth.
“Jisung,” you whisper, your voice a mix of exasperation and embarrassment. “You’re… still on top of me.”
He hums in response, clearly not fully awake. “Hmm… comfy,” he mutters, his voice muffled against you.
You suppress a laugh, shaking your head as you gently pat his shoulder. “Come on, sleepyhead. You’re crushing me.”
His eyes flutter open slowly, his gaze hazy and unfocused as he registers where he is—and more importantly, where you are. His face turns crimson in an instant, and he bolts upright, his disheveled hair only adding to the hilarity of the moment.
“Oh my God,” he blurts out, his voice hoarse with lingering sleep. “I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
You sit up too, waving a hand to stop him before he spirals into full-blown panic. “It’s fine, Jisung. You were sick, and we must’ve fallen asleep like that.”
He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, his ears still red. “Still… I should’ve been more aware. That’s so—”
“Unexpected? Sure. But it’s not the end of the world,” you interrupt, giving him a teasing grin. “Besides, you were pretty cute all snuggled up like that.”
His jaw drops slightly, and he stares at you, completely flustered. “Cute?! I—no—I mean—”
You laugh, the sound breaking through the awkward tension. “Relax, Jisung. It’s not a big deal.”
Just then, a small voice calls out from down the hall.
“Daddy? Where are you?”
The two of you exchange wide-eyed looks before scrambling off the bed. Jisung fumbles to fix his hair and grab his hoodie while you quickly smooth down your clothes, both of you rushing to look presentable.
“I’ll get her,” Jisung says, his voice still tinged with embarrassment, as he heads out of the room.
As you follow him, you can’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. Despite the awkwardness, there’s an undeniable warmth that lingers between you—a connection that feels stronger than before. And as Seyeon’s giggles echo through the apartment, you realize that, awkward or not, this is exactly where you want to be.
As Jisung steps into the hallway, he quickly motions for you to follow him into the living room. His expression is one of barely concealed panic.
"Okay but," he whispers, running a hand through his messy hair. "We need a story. Seyeon can’t know we both slept in my room. She’ll definitely tell her mom, and... yeah, let’s avoid that."
You stifle a laugh, appreciating the sheer absurdity of the situation. “Alright, what’s the plan?”
Jisung glances toward Seyeon’s room, where her little voice is calling out again, a clear mix of curiosity and impatience. He thinks for a moment before his eyes light up. “We’ll say you arrived really early to check on her, and I was still half-asleep when you got here.”
You arch an eyebrow. “Half-asleep and on top of me?”
He groans, his ears turning red. “Details she doesn’t need to know!” He waves his hands, flustered. “Just... sit on the couch and act like you just got here. I’ll handle the rest.”
Rolling your eyes but unable to resist the humor of the moment, you grab your bag from where it had been discarded the night before and plop yourself on the couch. You pull out your phone to make it look like you’ve been sitting there for a while.
“Daddy?” Seyeon’s voice is louder now as she pads into the living room in her pajamas, her bunny clutched in her arms. Her sleepy eyes widen slightly when she spots you. “y/nie! You’re here!”
You give her a warm smile, waving as if this is the most normal morning ever. “Morning, sweet cheeks. I came early to check on you and Daddy. How are you feeling?”
Seyeon blinks at you, her expression curious. “But I didn’t hear the doorbell…”
Jisung swoops in at that exact moment, his hoodie slightly askew and his hair still a mess. “That’s because Daddy let y/n in while you were still asleep, princess,” he says smoothly, crouching down to give her a hug. “She wanted to make sure you were feeling better.”
Seyeon narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, her tiny hands on her hips. “Why is your hair so messy, Daddy?”
Jisung freezes for a split second before letting out an overly dramatic yawn. “Oh, that’s because I just woke up too! I was soooo tired after yesterday, remember?” He ruffles her hair playfully, distracting her as he stands. “But look at you—still the cutest little bean even when you’re sick.”
Seyeon giggles, her suspicions forgotten for the moment as she climbs onto the couch beside you. “Are you gonna stay with us today, y/n?”
You glance at Jisung, who gives you a grateful look over Seyeon’s head. “Of course,” you reply with a smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You and Daddy need someone to take care of you, don’t you?”
Seyeon nods eagerly, her little hands clutching yours. “Yes! Daddy is really bad at making soup.”
“Hey!” Jisung protests, but his playful tone makes you laugh.
As the three of you settle into the morning routine, the chaos of the earlier situation melts away. Jisung catches your eye every now and then, a mix of gratitude and amusement in his expression. And though the morning started with a flurry of awkwardness and quick thinking, it’s clear that neither of you would trade this for anything.
“y/n,” she says after a moment, her little voice breaking the quiet. “Do you know how to make pancakes?”
You glance over your shoulder with a smile. “I do, but I think soup is better for you today, sweet cheeks. Pancakes can wait until you’re all better.”
Seyeon pouts, but it’s short-lived as Jisung shuffles in, still looking half-asleep despite his attempt to pull himself together. He leans against the counter, his hoodie slightly crooked, and watches you with a soft, almost shy smile.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmurs as you stir the soup.
You wave him off. “I told you, you’re both sick. Somebody has to take care of you.”
Seyeon pipes up from the table. “y/n is the best at taking care of people, Daddy. You should hire her forever!”
Jisung chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll see, princess. For now, I think we’re lucky she’s here at all.”
You finish the soup and serve it up, sitting beside Seyeon to make sure she eats slowly. She chatters between spoonfuls, her energy already bouncing back, though she still has a telltale flush on her cheeks from the fever.
After breakfast, Jisung retreats to the couch, looking utterly exhausted but refusing to admit it. You catch him trying to sit up and work on his laptop, which you promptly take away from him.
“Absolutely not,” you scold, folding your arms. “Back to bed, Mr. Producer. You’re supposed to be resting, not working.”
“But—”
“No buts.” You place your hands on your hips, glaring down at him. “You’re lucky I don’t confiscate your phone too.”
Seyeon comes from behind her legs with a smirk and a playful voice, “ohoh, Daddy’s in trouble.”
Jisung gives you a sheepish smile, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. You win.”
He stands, but his movements are sluggish, his fever still lingering. You guide him back to his bedroom, where he collapses onto the bed with a dramatic groan.
“This feels like a punishment,” he grumbles, though there’s no real bite in his tone.
“It’s for your own good,” you reply, pulling the blanket over him. “Now stay put.”
As you turn to leave, he reaches out, his fingers lightly catching your wrist. “y/n,” he says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Thank you. Really.”
You smile down at him, your heart softening at the sight of his tired but grateful expression. “Get some rest, Jisung. That’s all the thanks I need.”
When you leave the room, you find Seyeon curled up on the couch, already half-asleep with her bunny tucked under her chin. You drape a blanket over her and settle into the armchair nearby, the apartment finally quiet and peaceful.
The rest of the day passes quietly, with Seyeon resting on the couch and Jisung finally succumbing to sleep in his room. You tidy up the kitchen, check on both of them periodically, and eventually find a moment to sit and relax yourself. As you scroll absentmindedly on your phone, a text notification pops up.
Jisung: Hey. Are you still here, or did you head out while I was knocked out?
You smile, shaking your head as you type back.
You: Still here. Seyeon’s asleep on the couch. I’ll head out soon.
A minute later, another text buzzes in.
Jisung: You’ve been amazing today. Seriously, I don’t even know how to thank you.
You: I told you, no thanks needed. Just get better, both of you.
There’s a longer pause this time, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again. But then your phone buzzes once more.
Jisung: What if I wanted to thank you by taking you out? Like... on a date.
Your heart skips a beat, your thumb hovering over the keyboard as you reread the message. Is he serious? Judging by the second text that quickly follows, he’s just as nervous as you are.
Jisung: Unless that’s weird. Is that weird? I feel like I’m making this weird. Forget I said anything.
You can’t help but laugh, imagining his flustered expression.
You: It’s not weird. I’d like that.
The three dots indicating his reply appear almost immediately.
Jisung: Really? Okay. Great. When?
You glance toward the couch where Seyeon is still snoozing and back at your phone.
You: Let’s wait until you’re fully recovered, okay? I don’t want to be on a date with a guy who can’t keep his head up.
Jisung: Fair point. But it’s a deal. As soon as I’m better.
A week later, Jisung texts you with a time and location. He insists on keeping it a surprise, though he assures you it won’t be anything too fancy. When the evening arrives, you find yourself standing outside a cozy, tucked-away bistro in Seoul. The warm glow of fairy lights strung above the outdoor seating area adds a touch of magic to the atmosphere.
Jisung is already waiting for you, looking much healthier—and much more nervous. He’s dressed casually but thoughtfully, his hoodie swapped for a well-fitted sweater and jeans. His smile when he spots you is enough to make your heart skip.
“You look amazing,” he says, his eyes softening as he takes you in.
“Thanks,” you reply, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “You look pretty great yourself.”
He opens the door for you, leading you inside where the smell of freshly baked bread and herbs fills the air. The restaurant is intimate, with only a handful of tables and soft jazz playing in the background.
As you and Jisung settle at your table, the restaurant's warm ambiance makes you feel at ease. A candle flickers between you, its soft glow casting gentle shadows across his face. He looks relaxed, his posture leaning slightly forward as he glances at the menu.
“This place is beautiful,” you remark, taking in the quaint decor—exposed brick walls, wooden beams, and vintage artwork.
Jisung smiles, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. “I thought you’d like it. It’s one of my favorite spots, but I haven’t had a reason to come here in a while.”
A waiter arrives, pouring water into delicate glasses and handing you menus. Jisung grins as he watches you scan the options. “What are you thinking of getting?”
“Hm, probably the pasta,” you say, biting your lip as you deliberate. “What about you?”
“The steak,” he says without hesitation, then chuckles. “Seyeon would roll her eyes if she saw me order it. She keeps trying to convince me to go vegetarian.”
You laugh at the thought. “She’s quite the little advocate. How’s that going for you?”
“Let’s just say I’ve perfected the art of sneaking bacon into my meals when she’s not looking,” he admits with a mischievous grin.
You’re both laughing when the waiter returns to take your orders, and as the night unfolds, the conversation deepens.
Jisung leans on his hand, watching you with a softness that makes your cheeks warm. “So, what made you want to work with kids?”
You shrug, swirling your water glass idly. “I’ve always liked working with kids. They’re honest in a way adults sometimes aren’t, you know? And they remind me to find joy in little things.”
His gaze doesn’t waver, and for a moment, you feel a little self-conscious under his attention. “That’s exactly what Seyeon needed,” he says. “She’s been through so much for someone her age, and I’ve worried about her losing that joy. You’ve brought it back.”
You smile softly. “She’s a great kid, Jisung. You’ve done an amazing job with her.”
He shakes his head, his expression a mix of humility and gratitude. “I’ve tried, but there’s always this part of me that worries I’m not enough for her. Especially with everything between her mom and me.”
The vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. “You’re more than enough. Seyeon adores you. And the fact that you care so much says everything.”
He looks at you for a long moment, then smiles, a quiet kind of relief in his eyes.
The dishes arrive, breaking the tender atmosphere, and you both dive into your meals. The food is incredible, and the easy banter resumes. Jisung insists you try a bite of his steak, holding a piece out on his fork with an exaggerated flourish.
“Fine,” you say, laughing as you lean forward to take it. The steak practically melts in your mouth. “Okay, that’s ridiculously good.”
“Told you,” he says with a wink, taking a triumphant bite.
You share stories from your past, from embarrassing childhood moments to your favorite memories, and Jisung counters with tales from his idol days.
“Wait, you seriously tripped on stage during a live broadcast?” you ask, trying and failing to hold back your laughter.
“Oh, not just tripped,” he says, groaning dramatically. “I wiped out. Full face-plant. The members wouldn’t let me live it down for months.”
By the time dessert rolls around—an indulgent chocolate lava cake you decide to split—you feel like you’ve known him forever.
“Okay, honest question,” Jisung says, wiping a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”
You think for a moment before answering. “Somewhere quiet, with a lot of nature. Maybe near the ocean. What about you?”
He pauses, his gaze thoughtful. “Honestly? Wherever Seyeon is. She’s my world.” Then, after a beat, he adds, “But having someone like you there wouldn’t hurt either.”
The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heat again.
The conversation lingers even after the plates are cleared, neither of you in a hurry to end the night. When the check arrives, Jisung snatches it before you can protest, giving you a playful glare.
“Don’t even try,” he says. “This is my treat.”
By the time dinner is over, the warmth between you feels almost tangible. Jisung insists on walking you home, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you stroll side by side.
When you reach your door, he hesitates, his hands tucked into his pockets. “I had a really great time tonight,” he says, his voice soft.
“Me too,” you reply, smiling up at him.
There’s a brief pause, and then he steps closer, his gaze flicking to your lips. “Is it okay if I—”
Before he can finish the question, you lean in, closing the distance. His lips are warm and soft against yours, the kiss sweet and unhurried, a perfect culmination of the night.
When you pull back, his cheeks are pink, but the smile on his face is radiant.
“Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice full of promise.
“Goodnight, Jisung,” you reply, already looking forward to what’s to come.
A few days after your magical date with Jisung, your phone buzzes while you’re at home. It’s a text from him.
Jisung: Hey, no pressure, but the guys are getting together for dinner this weekend. I’d love for you to come along.
You read the message a couple of times, your heart fluttering.
You: Are you sure? I mean, isn’t that like…a big deal?
Jisung: It’s not a big deal! Well, okay, maybe it is a little, but only because I want them to meet you. They’re like family to me.
You: And you’re sure they won’t think it’s weird?
Jisung: baby, they’re going to love you. Trust me. Besides, it’ll be fun. Casual. No pressure.
You: Okay. Let’s do it.
The evening of the dinner, Jisung picks you up, visibly excited. “You look amazing,” he says, grinning as you slide into his car. “You’re going to fit right in.”
The dinner is at a trendy Korean BBQ restaurant, and the private room is already lively when you arrive. The other members of Jisung’s former group greet you warmly, their energy filling the space.
“Guys, this is y/n,” Jisung says, his arm resting lightly on your back. Then, with a small but unmistakable smile, he adds, “My girlfriend.”
You feel a collective shift in the room as all eyes turn to you, surprise quickly morphing into grins and playful teasing.
“Girlfriend?” Chan, the leader, says, raising an eyebrow at Jisung. “Since when?”
“Since recently,” Jisung replies, his tone casual but his expression soft as he looks at you.
“Wow, finally! I thought this day would never come,” Changbin teases, earning a laugh from everyone, including you.
“Okay, okay, don’t scare her off,” Jisung says, laughing as he guides you to a seat beside him.
As the night goes on, the atmosphere grows more relaxed. The members share hilarious stories from their time as a group, complete with impressions and exaggerated reenactments.
“Did he tell you about the time he lost his pants on stage?” Hyunjin asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Hyunjin!” Jisung protests, his face turning bright red.
“Oh, please, you have to tell me now,” you say, laughing.
Jisung groans dramatically, covering his face as Hyunjin dives into the story, complete with theatrical flair.
When it’s your turn to share something about yourself, they listen intently, occasionally throwing in jokes that make everyone laugh. You can tell how much they care for Jisung, and their approval feels like a warm embrace.
“You’re really good for him,” Chan says quietly as the others are distracted grilling meat. His kind smile reassures you. “He’s been happier lately. Thank you for that.”
You glance at Jisung, who’s laughing at something Seungmin just said, and feel a wave of affection. “He makes me happy too,” you reply honestly.
The teasing began almost as soon as Changbin noticed how attentive Jisung was being to you throughout the dinner. Whether it was making sure you had enough food or leaning in to whisper something funny in your ear, it was clear Jisung was smitten—and Changbin wasn’t going to let that slide unnoticed.
As the group grilled meat and exchanged banter, Changbin raised an eyebrow at Jisung, smirking. “You know, Jisung, it’s funny…” he began, drawing the attention of everyone at the table.
Jisung immediately tensed, a cautious look flashing across his face. “What’s funny?” he asked warily.
Changbin gestured toward you with his chopsticks. “Just how different y/n is from your ex. I mean, not to stir the pot or anything—”
“Then don’t,” Jisung interjected, though his tone lacked bite.
But Changbin wasn’t stopping. “—but seriously! Like night and day. y/n’s relaxed, fun, down-to-earth…” He trailed off with a playful shrug, his grin growing.
The table erupted in laughter, though you felt a little heat creep into your cheeks. You glanced at Jisung, who was glaring at Changbin with mock annoyance, his ears turning red.
“Yah, Changbin-hyung,” Jisung said, pointing his chopsticks at him. “You don’t have to point it out like that.”
“Oh, come on, it’s a compliment,” Changbin said with a laugh, raising his hands in mock defense. “I’m just saying you clearly upgraded. Don’t act like you don’t know it.”
“Hyung’s glowing,” Felix chimed in with a cheeky grin, piling on the teasing.
“Don’t make me regret inviting you all,” Jisung muttered, though the corners of his lips twitched in amusement.
You decided to jump in, hoping to lighten the moment. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or slightly concerned about how much you’re comparing me to her,” you joked, earning more laughter from the group.
Changbin laughed the hardest. “No, no, you should definitely be flattered. He’s happier than I’ve seen him in years.”
Jisung sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”
“Not a chance,” Seungmin replied with his trademark deadpan humor, making everyone laugh again.
Despite the teasing, you could feel the warmth in the room, the genuine affection Jisung’s friends had for him—and, by extension, for you. As Jisung reached under the table to squeeze your hand, his shy smile told you he didn’t mind the jokes as much as he let on.
Later, as you were leaving, Jisung shook his head, muttering, “Changbin’s never going to let me live that down.”
The car ride back to Jisung’s apartment was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space between you. The earlier teasing and laughter had dimmed, replaced by a thoughtful silence that neither of you rushed to break.
Finally, you glanced over at him. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you started softly, your voice gentle. “But… how did things end with your ex?”
Jisung’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. He looked straight ahead, his expression unreadable for a moment before speaking. “It wasn’t easy,” he said quietly. “Nothing about it was.”
You gave him a moment, waiting patiently. “We were young when we met. Fell in love quickly. For a while, it was perfect. We supported each other through everything—the good and the bad. But… the more I focused on my career, the more she felt like she was losing herself.”
You could see the pain flicker in his eyes as he said it, the weight of those words hanging between you.
“It’s hard, when two people are going in different directions,” he continued, his voice a little hoarse. “The distance, the misunderstandings—it felt like the walls were closing in. Eventually, we stopped talking as much. Stopped seeing each other the way we once did.”
You reached out, lightly placing a hand on his knee. “That must’ve been really painful,” you said softly. “To watch something you both built fall apart.”
Jisung let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing under your touch. “It was. Still is, sometimes. But… we weren’t right for each other. And Seyeon deserved more stability, more love than we could give her when we were barely holding on ourselves.”
The honesty in his voice cut through the tension in the car, and you felt a deep sympathy for the man who had carried so much weight for so long. “You’re doing your best,” you said gently. “For both of them.”
He glanced at you, offering a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I try.”
You gave his knee a squeeze, the touch offering comfort, though the quiet that followed was heavier now. It wasn’t an easy conversation, but you felt like you understood a little more of Jisung—the man behind the laughter, behind the fame.
After a while, he spoke again, softer this time. “I don’t talk about her often. Seyeon means everything to me. She’s my world now. And I don’t regret how things turned out, even if it hurt.”
“I know,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “But it’s okay to talk about it. You don’t have to carry it all alone.”
He nodded slightly, his fingers drumming softly against the steering wheel. “It’s just… hard sometimes. Seeing how happy Seyeon is now, and knowing that the woman who helped create her is still part of the equation. It’s not simple.”
“No, it’s not,” you agreed. “But you’re doing better than you think.”
The rest of the drive was quieter, the words exchanged grounding but still heavy with emotion. You didn’t need to fill the silence. Just being there was enough.
When you arrived at his apartment, Jisung reached for your hand, holding it tightly as you both stepped out of the car. The weight of the conversation lingered, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you.
The door to Jisung’s apartment creaked open slowly, and your heart immediately sank when you stepped inside. The tension in the air was thick, palpable even before you saw them. Voices—raised, angry—echoed from down the hall.
“No, Jisung! You can’t just bring her into our lives like this!”
It was her, you could’ve tell by the long thick brown hair and her slim body. Seyeon’s mother. Her voice sharp, filled with frustration, and a trace of betrayal.
Jisung’s voice followed, equally firm and unyielding. “She’s part of Seyeon’s life. She’s part of mine now too. You don’t get to control that anymore.”
You froze by the entrance, uncertainty washing over you. You could hear Seyeon’s soft cries from her room, the sound barely audible through the tense exchange. She must’ve heard everything.
This isn’t how I wanted it to start, you thought, your grip tightening on your bag.
The apartment felt suffocating. Every word was a blow, a crack in something fragile. They had been separated for years, and yet the wounds still ran deep.
“You’re being selfish!” her voice snapped. “You didn’t even consult me! She’s a nanny, Jisung! A stranger! You’re bringing her into her life without thinking—without even telling me!”
“I did think about it!” Jisung shouted back, his voice raising with every word. “I thought about what’s best for Seyeon. And if that means bringing y/n into our world, then so be it. I’m not going to hide who she is anymore.”
The tension in the room crackled, a storm brewing that neither of them seemed ready to weather.
You felt like an intruder, standing there in the doorway, unable to move, unable to escape the weight of it all. This wasn’t supposed to be your role—caught between two parents who were struggling to put their differences aside.
Finally, Jisung’s voice lowered, softer but no less fierce. “This isn’t about me or you anymore. It’s about her. About Seyeon. And she deserves to be happy, to feel safe—whether that’s with me or with you.”
A heavy silence fell over the apartment, the kind that left no room for words. You could hear the trembling breaths of both Jisung and Seyeon’s mother, neither one backing down, neither one willing to compromise.
“I’m not here to take her place,” you said softly, stepping forward into the hallway. “I’m here for Seyeon. She needs stability, and I want to be a part of that. But I’m not here to replace anyone.”
Both their eyes snapped to you, the weight of your words landing between them.
Jisung’s mother softened slightly at your presence, though her gaze was still sharp. “And what happens when this… arrangement falls apart? You’ll leave too? Like everyone else?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, holding her gaze steadily. “I’m here as long as Seyeon needs me. And if that’s what Jisung and I decide, then I’ll be here. It’s not about me; it’s about her.”
Another beat of silence followed. Jisung stepped closer to you, his hand briefly finding yours in a gesture of quiet support.
Seyeon’s mother exhaled slowly, her anger subdued but not gone. “You have no idea how complicated this is,” she finally said, her voice low and weary. “And maybe… maybe you’re right. Maybe Seyeon does need more than just a father or a mother. But this isn’t what I imagined for her. Not this.”
Jisung nodded solemnly, his jaw tight. “I know. But we don’t always get to choose how life turns out. The only thing I want is for her to be happy. That’s all.”
Seyeon’s soft sniffles turned into quiet whimpers from her room, and Jisung’s mother’s face softened slightly at the sound. “She’s scared,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “She’s hearing all of this. She doesn’t understand.”
Jisung’s eyes closed for a moment, his breath hitching slightly. “I know. I know. And I hate this more than anything. But she’ll get through it. We’ll get through it.”
A final, heavy pause hung in the air before Seyeon’s mother spoke again. “You’d better hope this works, Jisung. Because if it doesn’t…”
“I know,” he interrupted, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “I know.”
She turned, walking toward Seyeon’s room, knocking softly on the door. “Seyeon, it’s mommy,” she said gently, her voice wavering. “Can I come in?”
The little girl’s hesitant voice responded from behind the door, but it was barely audible. “No, mommy. I wanna stay with daddy…”
Jisung’s face tightened, the raw pain evident as he looked toward the door. Without another word, Seyeon’s mother left the apartment, closing the door softly behind her. The silence that followed was deafening.
Jisung leaned against the wall, his breath shaky, and you approached him carefully. “She didn’t mean what she said,” you said softly, your hand resting on his arm. “She’s just scared.”
“I know,” Jisung murmured, pressing his forehead against the cool wall, his voice hoarse. “But it hurts. More than I ever thought it would.”
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, holding him close, letting him feel the comfort you could give, even if it wasn’t enough. “You’re doing everything you can. For both of them.”
Together, you stood there, the weight of the moment pressing down on you both. Seyeon’s cries continued softly from her room, and you knew that healing would be a long, painful journey—one neither of you could rush.
The night was long and heavy. Jisung sat by Seyeon’s room, occasionally knocking softly to check on her, but she never answered. The pain of her confusion and fear was palpable, even from the other side of the door.
You stood quietly in the living room, watching him from a distance. The man who had always seemed so composed, so in control, was unraveling. His shoulders sagged, his head hanging low as he struggled with the weight of the situation. You knew how much Seyeon meant to him, and seeing him like this, broken yet determined, tugged at your heart.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he broke the silence. “She doesn’t want me to go in,” Jisung said, his voice low and strained. “She doesn’t want to see me.”
You walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You can’t force her, Jisung. She needs time.”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I just—” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he couldn’t finish his thought. “I feel helpless.”
“You’re not,” you assured him quietly. “You’re doing everything right. She knows you love her.”
Jisung let out a breath, leaning back against the wall. “I keep thinking about what I could’ve done differently—what I should’ve done. Maybe if we hadn’t fought like that, she wouldn’t be so scared.”
You knelt down in front of him, forcing him to look at you. “No one’s perfect, Jisung. You’re doing everything you can. And that’s enough.”
A small smile broke through his pain, though it was bittersweet. “You’re too good to me.”
You squeezed his hand softly, a comforting gesture that spoke volumes without words. “Because you deserve it.”
His hands moves on your cheeks gently, cupping your face and bring it close to his, his lips ghosting yours for a moment before his mouth collide against you gently - but fill with passion. He's in a pure need of attention and gentle touches. You kiss him back with the same feeling because you are slowly realising how much you are in love with this man.
As the kiss continue, as your lips keeps going for his, his hands slips on the back pocket of your jeans making you squirm a little against his lips, "J-jisung.."
"Please."
"Not now okay?" you coo as your thumb brush against his bottom lip gently, for how badly you want his hands on you, the moment is not the best. He press his lips together before pressing them gently against your thumb. "Okay, you're right."
The night dragged on, the quiet moments shared between you filled with unspoken understanding. You sat together in the dim glow of the living room lamp, sharing stories and reminiscing about simpler times, anything to ease the tension between you.
As the sky began to lighten with the first rays of dawn, Jisung finally spoke again. “She still doesn’t want to see me. But maybe… if she sees you here with me, she’ll feel safe enough to come out.”
You squeezed his hand gently. “I’ll be here. For both of you.”
He nodded slowly, a sense of peace washing over him at your words. Even in the quiet of the morning, the weight of the previous night hadn’t completely lifted, but it was a step forward—however small.
Just as the sun started to rise, a soft shuffle came from Seyeon’s room. Her small voice called out quietly, unsure yet hopeful. “Daddy?”
Jisung’s breath hitched, and without thinking, he moved toward the door. “Sweetcheeks?”
Slowly, the door creaked open, revealing a timid, tear-streaked face. Her mother’s protective instincts were evident, but her little eyes searched for something familiar—something safe.
“Come here, sweet girl,” Jisung whispered, his voice gentle and full of love. He knelt down, opening his arms wide, and Seyeon stepped into them hesitantly. He wrapped her up in a tight embrace, her tiny arms clinging to him like a lifeline.
“I was scared,” she murmured against his shoulder, her voice barely audible.
“I know, baby,” Jisung said softly, rocking her gently. “But you’re safe now. You’re with me.”
You watched from a distance, your heart swelling with emotion. Watching Jisung finally connect with his daughter after the turmoil gave you a sense of purpose that was hard to explain. He deserved to be her rock, just as she deserved to lean on him.
After a few moments, Seyeon lifted her head, her tear-streaked face searching for yours. “y/n,” she said softly, her small voice tinged with curiosity. “You stayed?”
You smiled warmly, crouching down to her level. “Of course I did, sweetie. I told you, I’m here for both of you.”
It’s almost midnight of a random Wednesday when your phone buzz with a jisung’s text asking you to come to his apartment for a small stay in date, you’re over the edge. You missed him, you missed your boyfriend because the last week you couldn’t see him – he was too busy working, Seyeon stayed with her mother an addictional weekend and your essays were one on top of the other in your desk. So when he asked you to be there in 10 minutes, you were already taking the bus to his house. You didn’t dressed up, you just casually put a comfortable sweater on and a skirt just how he seems to like you.
When you knock at the door his happy smile makes you feel immidiately at home. “Hey, beautiful,” Jisung greets, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smirk. His messy hair and soft hoodie make him look effortlessly perfect, and the way his eyes rake over you sends a shiver down your spine. “You didn’t make me wait long, did you?”
You roll your eyes but can’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Not everyone has the luxury of teleporting, Sungie. The bus takes time.”
He chuckles, stepping aside to let you in. “You could’ve run here. I would’ve been worth it.”
His teasing tone is matched with a flirtatious glance, and before you can come up with a witty reply, his hands find your waist as soon as the door closes. He pulls you in, the familiar warmth of his touch melting away the stress of your week. His lips brush your temple, then your cheek, lingering just enough to make your heartbeat quicken.
“You smell like heaven,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. His lips find your ear, and you swear you can feel his smile. “And you look even better than I imagined.”
Your face heats up as you lightly shove his chest. “you’re saying this knowing damn well how I loove.”
He catches your hands and holds them against his chest, his grin widening. “maybe yes, maybe no. That’s up to you.”
The warmth in his eyes makes your knees weak, but before you can drown in his gaze, he tugs you further inside. The living room is dimly lit, fairy lights draped across the walls casting a soft glow over the space. A cozy blanket is spread across the couch, and the coffee table holds a bottle of soda – because he knows you don’t like to drink and he secretly appreciate that, two glasses, and a bowl of popcorn.
Jisung notices your eyes scanning the setup and tugs at your hand to pull you closer. “Nothing fancy,” he says, feigning nonchalance, “but I figured you deserve a little break. Just us, we didn’t had that many dates due my schedules and your exams.”
Your heart swells as he leads you to the couch. The air between you is thick with anticipation, his hand lingering on yours as you sit. He leans in close, his knee brushing against yours. “So,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave, “how much did you miss me?”
You try to stay composed, but his proximity and the mischievous glint in his eye make it impossible. “Enough to take the bus at almost midnight,” you reply, meeting his gaze.
His smile turns sly as he shifts even closer, his lips mere inches from yours. “Only enough for that?” he teases, his voice a breathy whisper. “Guess I’ll have to work harder to make you miss me more.”
Before you can answer, his hand cups your cheek, and he closes the distance between you. His lips are soft and warm, moving against yours with a tenderness that quickly turns intoxicating. The world outside fades away as you lose yourself in him—his touch, his scent, the way he tastes like home.
When he finally pulls back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his voice is husky. “You’re mine tonight. No essays, no kids, no stress—just us. Deal?”
You nod, breathless, already sinking into the haven he’s created. “Deal.”
Jisung smiles against your lips as you kiss him again, his hands still cradling your face like you’re the most delicate thing in the world. He pulls back just far enough to see your flushed cheeks and dazed expression, his own grin soft and full of affection.
“Come on,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
He leads you to the couch, settling you into the corner where the blankets are piled. He sits down beside you and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as if he’s trying to shield you from the rest of the world. The faint hum of the fairy lights fills the air, along with the soft rustle of the blanket as he tucks it over both of you.
You relax against him, your head naturally finding its place on his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his own warmth makes you sigh in contentment. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
The two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the outside world a distant memory. Jisung shifts slightly, adjusting the blanket and pulling you closer, his fingers now absentmindedly running through your hair.
“What are we watching?” you ask eventually, your voice muffled against his chest.
He chuckles softly, his chest vibrating against you. “Nothing yet. I got too distracted by you.”
You playfully swat his side, but he only laughs, pulling you even closer. “Alright, alright,” he relents, reaching for the remote. “Let’s pick something cozy. You’re the boss tonight.”
You glance at the screen as he scrolls through the options, his free hand never leaving your waist. After some debate, you settle on a rom-com, one of your favorites that he insists he’s never seen but secretly knows by heart.
As the movie plays, Jisung’s commentary is both endearing and hilarious, his whispered quips earning giggles from you that he seems determined to keep coming. When you laugh too hard, he presses a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as he whispers, “I love that sound.”
His lips find your neck, leaving soft pecks long the way, your hands instinctively clutch at his hoodie as his lips find your neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses that make your heart race. He takes his time, his touch unhurried, as if savoring every second. When he reaches the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, he lingers, his lips brushing over your skin with maddening gentleness.
“You smell so good,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice a low rasp that sends a thrill down your spine. His teeth graze your skin lightly, and your grip on his hoodie tightens.
“Jisung,” you say again, your voice a mix of a plea and a warning. He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your neck.
“What?” he asks, feigning innocence as his lips press another kiss just below your collarbone. “I’m just making up for lost time.”
You tilt your head slightly, giving him more access despite yourself. His hands slide to your waist, steadying you as he continues to kiss and nuzzle your neck. Each press of his lips feels like fire and electricity, sending sparks through your entire body.
“Missed you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. The tenderness in his words is enough to make your heart clench, and you can’t help but pull him closer.
“I missed you too,” you admit, your fingers tangling in his hair. He lifts his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with affection—and something more.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he leans in to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It’s slow and deliberate, a kiss that feels like a promise.
Your hands slips on the elm of his hoodie, removing it from his body and you canno’t stop looking. The tattoos on his torso are incredibly attractive, broad shoulders, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, you’re fingers are itching to touch his toned skin, “damn.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “are you that surprised?”
“well yeah for your age-“ You smirk causing him to pout. “hey!”
His arms moves around your waist, lifting you from the ground and placing your stomach against his shoulder, you kicks lightly your legs in the air, “Jisung you better put me down!”
Giggles fills the apartment as he hold you with an arm around your waist and the other patting playfully your ass, “nah, I can carry you easily like this.”
“But—“
“No buts, you’re not a kid and tonight you’re my girl to pleasure.” His words are warm and they make you blush when you step into his room, a smile growing in your lips and another laugh left your lungs when he kindly let you lay on the bed, your back against the sheets that smells like him.
“You are—“ he swallow lightly, his fingers tracing the elm of your shorts, “beautiful. Breathtaking.”
Your clothes end up quickly on the floor, his hands roaming all over your body, tracing your skin and trying to get every single part touched by him, he wants you to forget about the past partners and remember only him. Him and his smile, him and his giggles, his soft and kind voice.
The arch of your back makes him shiver, it’s a scene of a movie, his index trace from between your breasts to the sweet roll of your tummy, making you chuckle, “are you having fun?”
“Very. And you?” His eyes looks for confirm, your nods is enough for his finger to run over your belly button. He’s teasing you, you can tell. It tickles you. “Jisung don’t tease me.”
“What they say? waiting increases desire,” You roll his eyes at your boyfriend’s smirk.
“You say that to your kid,” he squeeze his eyes a little, shaking his head quickly almost to remove a thought from his mind, “don’t.. don’t say that!”
A small noise of surprise falls from your lips, just as he lean to kiss you softly to shut you up — he need more. The hand on your waist pulls you closer and at the same time, he presses his lips harder against yours. His lips mold into yours, spit gathering in his mouth from hunger.
His hands spread apart your legs wide, making you squeak at the sudden action, his hands grips your hips raising them enough for his dick to rub against your folds, “you’re teasing me again.”
Your purrs makes his skin shivers, “do you want me that bad?” he bend over you, his nose nudge against yours gently as you smile, the intimacy of the moment makes your pussy get wetter.
His hands grip your waist tightly as he feels your wet heat taking him inch by inch, “Fuuuuck, how many times have I dreamt about this?” He hiss, you’re absolutely enjoying this.
Jisung is stretching you out so good, as his cock is rubbing over that sweet spot inside you. He’s enjoying the view, you’re hidden eyes, the way your tits are bouncing when he push deeper in you. It’s been a while since he fucked someone and it felt this good, it’s really hard for him to not come yet.
“I’m so close.. jisung.” You’re moans filled his room, your head moved backward making him grunt under his breath, he pulls out stroking his shaft in a rough manner, “no.. no cum inside.”
“A-are you sure?” Your hand reach for his tip gently, brushing the tip with his thumb making his hips moving forward for his touch, you guide his cock back inside you, your walls squeezing him again as he start to thrust into you faster than before, rougher, raw. It’s a feeling that makes your feel full, the light bulge in your low stomach makes him with a cocky smirk, “oh look how deep I am.”
He brushes his fingers over your skin, making you whimper, your legs tight around his waist, “o-oh God— Jisung..” Your legs shakes in pleasure as he cums deep in you, his forehead resting against your shoulder.
He slowly moves to lay beside you, trying to catch some breath after the intensity of your love making. The room is bathed in a warm, golden glow from the bedside lamp as you and Jisung lay tangled together beneath the covers. His arm is draped lazily around your waist, his fingers drawing absentminded circles on your skin. You feel utterly at peace, your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your ear.
But then, he breaks the silence with a dramatic sigh.
“Y/n,” he says, his voice filled with mock seriousness. “I need to tell you something. Something big.”
You tilt your head to look up at him, his expression so over-the-top that you can’t help but giggle. “What is it, Sungie? Did you run out of snacks again?”
“No,” he groans, throwing his free hand over his forehead like a tragic hero in a melodrama. “It’s worse. Much worse.”
You raise an eyebrow, biting back another laugh. “Worse than running out of snacks? Now I’m worried.”
He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow and staring down at you with wide, comically serious eyes. “I’m not ready to be a dad again,” he declares, his voice filled with mock despair. “I barely survived the first time.”
It takes you a second to process his words, and then you burst into laughter. “What are you even talking about? You’re an amazing dad to Seyeon!”
“That’s not the point!” he retorts, wagging a finger at you like a professor giving a lecture. “Seyeon’s a literal angel. She eats her vegetables, brushes her teeth without a fight, and even says please and thank you. Do you know how rare that is?”
You nod, still laughing. “So what’s the problem?”
He flops back down onto the pillows, groaning dramatically. “The problem is, I’ve been spoiled! What if the next kid is a little gremlin? What if they refuse to eat anything except chicken nuggets and demand a bedtime story and a TED Talk every night before bed?”
You cover your mouth to stifle your laughter as he continues, his arms flailing for emphasis. “And don’t even get me started on the diapers. Do you have any idea how many diapers I changed with Seyeon? Enough to build a small fortress! I could’ve gone pro in diaper-changing.”
You snuggle closer, resting your chin on his chest as you grin up at him. “So what I’m hearing is... you’re scared of tiny humans.”
“Terrified,” he says, nodding solemnly. “Tiny humans are unpredictable. One minute they’re giggling at your funny faces, and the next, they’re crying because you didn’t let them eat crayons.”
“You’re being dramatic,” you tease, poking his side. “But for the record, I think you’d do just fine if we ever had another one. You’re kind, patient, and you have a way of making even the most boring things fun.”
He blinks at you, his dramatic persona melting away for a moment as he smiles softly. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest.
He sighs, his smile turning playful again. “Okay.”
“but why did we started to talk about kids all of the sudden?”
“i.. cummed inside,” you laugh, pulling him into a hug.
As he wraps his arms around you, his voice softens. “Don’t tease me! It’s serious, I don’t.. I don’t think we can be pregnant yet. Seyeon barely know that we are together.”
“Agreed,” you murmur, resting your head against his chest again. His hand resumes its lazy circles on your back, and soon, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your shared laughter and steady breathing. “And for the record, I take the pill.”
He sigh in relief, making you laugh louder.
It’s a quiet Saturday morning, and the three of you—Jisung, Seyeon, and you—are sitting in the living room. Seyeon is sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a sea of coloring books and crayons, her little tongue sticking out in concentration as she carefully colors a unicorn. Jisung is on the couch, his legs stretched out lazily, while you sit beside him, close enough that your knees occasionally bump.
“Daddy,” Seyeon says, not looking up from her masterpiece, “what’s your favorite color?”
Jisung leans forward, pretending to ponder the question deeply. “Hmm, that’s a tough one. I like... whatever color y/n likes.”
You look at him in surprise, your cheeks heating up. “What?” you ask, laughing nervously. “Why?”
“Because,” he says with a playful shrug, “it’s always a safe bet to like what y/n likes. She has excellent taste.”
Seyeon looks up at him, her crayon paused mid-stroke. “What if she likes rainbow? That’s all the colors, Daddy.”
“Then I like rainbow,” Jisung declares confidently, shooting you a wink.
A few minutes later, Seyeon holds up her finished unicorn drawing, beaming with pride. “Look, Daddy! Look, y/nie!”
“Wow!” Jisung exclaims, clapping his hands dramatically. “That’s amazing, sweetheart. y/n, don’t you think Seyeon’s got the best artistic talent ever?”
You nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely. She’s a little Picasso.”
Seyeon grins, clearly pleased with the praise. Then Jisung leans down toward her, his tone suddenly conspiratorial. “You know,” he says, “Y/n has been helping you so much lately. I think she deserves a big thank-you, don’t you?”
Seyeon nods eagerly. “Thank you, y/n!”
“Aw, you’re welcome, sweetie,” you say, reaching over to ruffle her hair.
Jisung isn’t done, though. “But,” he adds, his voice taking on a teasing tone, “don’t you think y/n is super nice and pretty, too? Like, the best nanny ever?”
Seyeon blinks up at him, then looks at you, her face scrunching in thought. “Yeah, y/n is really pretty. And she makes the best sandwiches. Daddy, do you like her?”
The room goes still for a moment, and you feel your face heat up. Jisung, however, takes it in stride, a sly smile spreading across his lips. “Of course I like her,” he says, leaning back casually. “She’s amazing. Don’t you think it’d be nice if she stayed with us forever?”
Seyeon tilts her head, her tiny brows furrowing. “Like... forever forever?”
Jisung nods, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Forever forever.”
You clear your throat, trying to suppress a laugh. “Okay, let’s not confuse her,” you say, shooting him a look.
Seyeon, ever the perceptive child, turns her gaze to you. “Do you want to stay forever, y/n?”
Caught off guard, you stammer, “Well, I—I mean, I really like being here with you and your daddy. But—”
“She does,” Jisung interrupts smoothly, cutting you off with a grin. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”
“Daddy,” Seyeon says matter-of-factly, “you’re being weird.”
Jisung laughs, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Maybe. But I’m also right.”
You shake your head, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as Seyeon goes back to her coloring. Jisung catches your eye, his grin softening into something more sincere. It’s a moment that lingers just a little too long, and when you look away, you can still feel his gaze on you.
The morning slips into the soft, lazy hum of afternoon, with Seyeon bouncing between coloring, her favorite cartoons, and occasionally running to grab snacks from the kitchen. You and Jisung remain in the living room, comfortably settled on the couch, though his occasional remarks keep you on edge—playfully, of course.
As Seyeon gets engrossed in her show, Jisung leans toward you, his voice dropping low enough so only you can hear. “You know,” he starts, his tone light and teasing, “I wasn’t kidding earlier.”
You glance at him, narrowing your eyes. “About what?”
“About you staying forever.” His grin is playful, but there’s an unmistakable warmth in his eyes that makes your breath hitch.
“Jisung,” you whisper, glancing nervously at Seyeon, who’s still focused on the TV. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not?” he asks, leaning his chin on his hand as if you’re having the most casual conversation in the world. “It’s true. I mean, Seyeon already loves you, you make the best sandwiches, and—let’s be honest—I think I’d be a little lost without you around.”
You try to play it off, rolling your eyes even as your cheeks heat up. “You’re being dramatic again.”
“I’m not!” he protests, his voice a little louder now. Seyeon turns briefly to look at him, and he quickly softens his tone. “I’m just saying... this house feels a lot warmer when you’re in it.”
You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Before you can think of something, Seyeon pipes up from her spot on the floor, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.
“Daddy, can we have pancakes tomorrow?” she asks, twisting around to look at him.
“Of course, sweetie,” Jisung says with a bright smile. Then, without missing a beat, he adds, “Maybe y/n will help me make them. Or, you know, we could have y/n make all the pancakes forever.”
“Forever pancakes!” Seyeon cheers, throwing her hands in the air. She doesn’t fully understand what he’s implying, but she giggles anyway, clearly enjoying the idea.
Before you can respond, she climbs onto the couch, wedging herself between the two of you with all the confidence of a child who knows she’s the center of your world. She looks up at Jisung with big, curious eyes.
“Daddy, do you love y/n?”
The question hangs in the air, and you feel like your heart has stopped. Jisung, however, doesn’t miss a beat. He glances at you, a playful twinkle in his eye, before turning to his daughter.
“Of course I love y/n,” he says, his tone warm and sincere. “She’s very special to us, don’t you think?”
Seyeon nods seriously. “Yeah, she’s the best.”
Your heart melts at the sight of her little face lit up with pure affection. Jisung, ever the opportunist, takes the moment to slide an arm around both you and Seyeon, pulling you closer.
“See?” he murmurs, his voice dropping just for you. “I think it’s unanimous. You’re stuck with us.”
Seyeon claps her hands. “Y/n forever!” she declares, leaning against you with a contented sigh. Jisung winks at you over her head, and you can’t help but laugh. Maybe staying forever isn’t such a bad idea after all.
You’re folding laundry on a quiet Sunday afternoon when Jisung walks into the room, Seyeon bouncing happily on his hip. His face lights up when he sees you, and you smile back instinctively. Moments like these—the easy rhythm of life in their home—always warm your heart, even as they sometimes leave you wondering if you truly belong here in the way Jisung’s lingering glances suggest.
“Hey, y/n,” Jisung says casually, though there’s a certain energy to his tone that immediately puts you on alert. “I was thinking...”
“That’s always dangerous,” you tease, setting down the shirt you were folding.
He grins, undeterred. “Ha ha, very funny. No, seriously. We’re heading out of town for the holidays, just a little cabin getaway. Me, Seyeon... her mom.” He pauses, gauging your reaction. “And I thought it’d be really nice if you came with us.”
You freeze mid-fold, your mind racing. Did he just—?
Seyeon perks up at the mention of you. “Y/n’s coming? Yay! You’ll build snowmen with me, right?”
Your heart clenches at her excitement, but your nerves are quick to set in. “Oh, um... I don’t know,” you say hesitantly, glancing at Jisung. “I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything.”
“Intrude?” Jisung repeats, laughing softly. “Y/n, you’re family. You’re basically Seyeon’s favorite person in the world—after me, of course,” he adds with a wink.
“And Mommy,” Seyeon chimes in cheerfully, her little voice oblivious to the awkward undercurrent her words create.
You force a smile, your anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. The idea of spending the holidays with Jisung, Seyeon, and her mother feels... complicated. What if it’s awkward? What if her mom doesn’t like the idea of you being there? What if you misread all of Jisung’s hints and you’re overstepping your place in their lives?
“I don’t know, Jisung,” you say softly, busying yourself with folding another shirt. “It sounds like a family thing. I don’t want to get in the way.”
He sets Seyeon down, and she scampers off to find her crayons. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Jisung steps closer, his expression softening. “Y/n, listen. I know it might feel... weird. But it’s not like that, I promise. Seyeon adores you, and I want you there because—well, because I want you there. You make everything better, even the holidays.”
His sincerity catches you off guard, and you look up at him, your cheeks warming. “Are you sure her mom will be okay with it? I don’t want to cause any tension.”
Jisung waves off your concern with a casual shrug. “She’s fine with it. We’ve talked about it already. Things between us are purely about co-parenting now, nothing else. She knows how important you are to Seyeon—and to me.”
Your heart skips a beat at the way he says those last words, but you still hesitate. “It’s just... a lot. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”
Jisung steps closer, his hand brushing yours. “Y/N,” he says softly, his gaze locking with yours. “You’re not just Seyeon’s nanny. You’re part of this family, whether you realize it or not. The holidays wouldn’t feel right without you there.”
His words settle over you like a warm blanket, melting away some of your anxiety. You glance toward the living room, where Seyeon is happily humming to herself as she colors. She’s so excited about the idea of you coming, and Jisung’s earnestness is hard to resist.
“Okay,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”
Jisung’s face lights up with a smile that makes your heart flutter. “That’s my girl,” he says, squeezing your hand briefly before pulling away.
As you watch him walk back to Seyeon, your nerves remain, but they’re tempered by something else—something warmer. Maybe this holiday won’t be as daunting as you think. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll be exactly what you need to feel like you truly belong.
Oh, if only you knew how bad the things were turning to.
The cabin was quiet except for the faint crackle of the fireplace. Seyeon had just fallen asleep after an evening of snow angels and hot chocolate, and you were in your room, giving Jisung and his ex some space to talk. They hadn’t had a real conversation in a long time, and tonight seemed like the right time—at least that’s what Jisung had said.
But now, standing in the dimly lit living room, he wasn’t so sure.
“So,” she started, her arms crossed defensively as she leaned against the mantle. “What’s this really about, Jisung? You’re acting like everything’s fine, like we can play happy families for Seyeon’s sake, but we both know it’s not that simple.”
Jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about playing happy families. It’s about doing what’s best for her. She deserves stability, and I thought we were finally in a place where we could at least pretend to get along.”
“Pretend,” she repeated bitterly, a harsh laugh escaping her lips. “Right. Because pretending fixes everything. Like it fixed us?”
“This isn’t about us,” Jisung snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. He softened his tone, taking a step closer. “It’s about Seyeon. She’s happy. She feels safe. Isn’t that what matters?”
Her eyes narrowed, and she straightened up, her posture rigid. “Don’t act like you’re the only one thinking about her, Jisung. I’ve been doing this alone for years while you were too busy chasing your career. You’re lucky she even knows you.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and his jaw clenched. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly, his voice laced with hurt. “I’ve done everything I can to be here for her. I love her.”
“And yet you weren’t there when she needed you the most,” she shot back, her voice cracking. “When she had her first fever, when she started school, when she cried herself to sleep asking why Daddy wasn’t home.”
Jisung flinched, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her words. “I know I made mistakes. I wasn’t there as much as I should have been, and I’ll regret that forever. But I’m here now. Doesn’t that count for something?”
She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. “You think you can just walk back in and fix everything with your charm and your promises, but life doesn’t work that way. You can’t undo the past, Jisung. And you can’t expect me to forget it, either.”
“I’m not asking you to forget,” he said, his voice trembling with frustration. “I’m asking you to see that I’m trying. For her. For all of us.”
“All of us?” she scoffed, bitterness dripping from her words. “Let’s not pretend this is about ‘us.’ You’ve already moved on, haven’t you? Bringing her here, parading her around like she’s some kind of replacement.”
“Y/n isn’t a replacement,” Jisung said firmly, his eyes blazing. “She’s a part of Seyeon’s life, and she’s been nothing but good for her.”
“Maybe,” she admitted, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “But you don’t get to rewrite history, Jisung. You don’t get to act like the perfect father now and expect me to just go along with it.”
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Jisung looked at her, his expression a mix of anger and heartbreak.
“I’m not trying to rewrite history,” he said finally, his voice quiet but steady. “I’m just trying to be better. For Seyeon. If you can’t see that... then I don’t know what else to say.”
She turned away, her back to him as she stared into the flickering flames. “Maybe there’s nothing left to say,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Jisung stood there for a moment, his fists clenched at his sides, before he turned and walked away, the weight of her words pressing down on him like a storm cloud.
The air between them was thick with unresolved tension, and as he disappeared down the hallway, she didn’t call after him.
In the quiet of the cabin, the distance between them felt more insurmountable than ever.
The first couple of days passed in relative peace, but by the third morning, it was clear something was off.
It started small: Seyeon’s mother, would “accidentally” leave you out of conversations, her voice dropping to a whisper with Jisung whenever you walked into the room. She rearranged the kitchen supplies you’d neatly organized to prepare breakfast, then acted oblivious when you couldn’t find anything. Once, she even laughed and said, “Oh, you must not spend much time in kitchens,” with a pointed glance at Jisung.
You brushed it off at first. This was her time with Seyeon, too, and you didn’t want to stir up unnecessary drama. But her passive-aggressive behavior only escalated.
When you offered to take Seyeon sledding, she suddenly announced that they’d already planned to go without you. You stayed behind, feeling awkward and unsure of your place. When they returned, her mother made a point of loudly recounting how much fun they’d had, conveniently forgetting to include Jisung’s praise about how Seyeon wouldn’t stop asking for you while they were out.
At dinner one evening, she served everyone but you. When you politely got up to grab your own plate, she laughed. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize you were joining us for every meal.”
You bit your tongue, plastering on a smile. “I didn’t mean to impose.”
Jisung, oblivious, simply passed you the serving spoon with a wink. “Y/n’s practically family,” he said, not noticing the way her jaw tightened.
That night, as you tucked Seyeon into bed, she wrapped her little arms around your neck and whispered, “Mommy says you’re just visiting. But I want you to stay forever.”
Her words made your heart ache, but you only smiled, brushing her hair back gently. “I’ll always be here for you, sweetie.”
The next morning, the mother pulled out all the stops. She insisted on decorating Christmas cookies with Seyeon, making a big show of asking Jisung for help. “It’s our little family tradition,” she said sweetly, her eyes flicking to you as she emphasized the word family.
You excused yourself, claiming you needed to catch up on reading. But as you sat on the couch with an open book in your lap, you couldn’t concentrate. You could hear their laughter from the kitchen, and every time her voice rang out, you felt smaller and smaller.
Jisung seemed none the wiser, though you couldn’t blame him. she moves were subtle, designed to push you out of the picture without outright confrontation. And you didn’t want to ruin the holidays for him or Seyeon by bringing it up.
But by the time Christmas Eve rolled around, your patience was wearing thin. You were helping Jisung set the table for dinner when she walked in, holding a tray of desserts she’d made with Seyeon.
“Oh, Jisung,” she said in a syrupy tone, “remember the first Christmas we spent together? You couldn’t stop eating my cookies.”
Jisung chuckled, not catching the tension in the room. “Yeah, you always did make great cookies.”
She smirked, turning to you. “Did you try baking with Seyeon yet? It’s a bit of a skill, you know.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but Jisung beat you to it. “Y/n’s amazing with Seyeon,” he said, smiling warmly. “She doesn’t need to bake to prove that.”
For the first time, his ex faltered, her expression slipping before she covered it with a tight smile. “Of course,” she said, turning back to the tray.
But as the evening wore on, her petty jabs continued, each one chipping away at your resolve. You kept your head high, smiling and nodding through it all, but when the night ended and you finally retreated to your room, you felt exhausted.
You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling with the weight of it all. You wanted to tell Jisung—desperately—but the thought of burdening him during the holidays, or worse, causing tension between him and her, kept you silent.
Christmas morning dawned bright and snowy, the cabin blanketed in a pristine layer of white. You could hear Seyeon’s excited voice echoing through the halls as she begged Jisung to wake up and open presents. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and despite the tension brewing under the surface, you pulled yourself out of bed and resolved to make the day as joyful as possible for her.
By the time you made it to the living room, the mother was already there, sitting cross-legged by the tree and sipping her coffee. Her gaze flicked to you briefly before she turned her attention back to Seyeon, who was bouncing on Jisung’s lap.
“Good morning,” you said softly, offering a polite smile.
The older girl raised her mug in response but didn’t say anything. Jisung, oblivious to the exchange, grinned at you. “Morning, sleepyhead. Coffee’s in the kitchen.”
You nodded and slipped into the kitchen to pour yourself a cup. When you returned, Seyeon was already tearing into the first of her presents, her delighted squeals filling the room. You took a seat on the couch, watching her with a warm smile as Jisung handed her another brightly wrapped package.
“This one’s from y/n,” he said, holding the gift out to her.
Seyeon’s eyes lit up, and she practically lunged for it. “From y/n?” she asked, tearing into the wrapping paper. “Yay!”
As she pulled out the set of art supplies you’d chosen for her, her face lit up with pure joy. “Thank you, y/n!” she cried, running over to throw her arms around you.
You hugged her tightly, your heart swelling. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I hope you make lots of beautiful pictures with them.”
“Of course I will!” she said, running back to show Jisung and her mother her new treasures.
Jisung’s ex smile was tight, but she said nothing, instead turning her attention to the next present.
As the morning went on, the tension simmered just beneath the surface. Her comments were subtle but pointed, from joking about Jisung’s taste in gifts to making unnecessary remarks about your relationship with Seyeon.
When you offered to help clean up the wrapping paper, she waved you off with an overly sweet smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it, y/n. I’m sure you’re used to tidying up after Seyeon, but this is a family tradition.”
You swallowed the retort rising in your throat and busied yourself picking up stray ribbons instead. Jisung was too preoccupied with helping Seyeon assemble a toy to notice the slight, and you decided not to draw attention to it.
Later, during lunch, his ex decided to needle further.
“So, y/n,” she began, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “What are your plans for the new year? I imagine you’ll be looking for other opportunities soon, right?”
Jisung frowned, looking up from his plate. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said with a shrug, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s just that being a nanny isn’t exactly a long-term career, is it? How long is that girl working for you now? 9, 10 months?”
You felt your cheeks flush, and you opened your mouth to respond, but Jisung beat you to it.
“Y/n’s not just Seyeon’s nanny,” he said firmly, his tone laced with irritation. “She’s part of this family. And she’s not going anywhere.”
She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Of course not,” she said smoothly, though her eyes betrayed her displeasure.
You busied yourself with your food, your appetite gone. Jisung’s words were kind, but they only seemed to add fuel to Mirae’s passive-aggressive fire.
By the time the day wound down, you were emotionally drained. Seyeon had fallen asleep on the couch, clutching one of her new toys, and Jisung had carried her off to bed. Mirae was sitting by the fire, scrolling through her phone, when you finally decided to head to your room.
As you passed her, she spoke without looking up. “You know,” she said, her tone casual, “Jisung’s always been good at seeing the best in people. But that doesn’t mean everyone belongs in his life forever.”
You stopped, your breath catching in your throat. For a moment, you considered responding, but you quickly decided against it. Instead, you turned and walked away, her words echoing in your mind.
Lying in bed that night, you stared at the ceiling, your heart heavy. No matter how much Jisung reassured you, her actions had a way of making you feel like an outsider. And while you didn’t want to let her win, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she was right—maybe you didn’t belong here after all.
The days after Christmas continued to weigh heavily on you. You kept your distance from her, as much for your own sanity as to avoid any further confrontations. But the further away you emotionally distanced yourself from her, the more distant you became from Jisung too.
You saw the way he looked at you, the concerned glances he gave when you withdrew into yourself during meals or stayed behind while he and Seyeon went outside to play in the snow. He was starting to notice the quietness, the way you didn’t laugh as easily anymore, how you seemed to put distance between yourself and everything they shared.
“Hey,” Jisung said softly one evening, after Seyeon had gone to bed. You were sitting by the window, watching the snow fall in silence. He sat down beside you, his hand gently brushing yours. “What’s going on with you?”
You looked away, your fingers tightening around the edge of your sweater. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
He frowned, his brows knitting together in concern. “baby, come on. You’ve been like this all week. I know something’s bothering you.”
You let out a breath, your gaze fixed on the snow falling in the distance. “It’s just... Seyeon’s mother.”
Jisung sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I should’ve known. I told you, I’ll handle her. You don’t have to deal with her alone.”
You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not just her. She’s been trying to make me feel like an outsider. And it’s working.”
Jisung’s expression softened, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “She doesn’t get to dictate how we feel, love. You’re important to us. To Seyeon and me.”
“I know that,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “But it doesn’t feel that way when she keeps pushing me away.”
“I see it too,” he admitted, his hand squeezing yours gently. “She’s been petty, and it’s not right. But you can’t let her win by pulling away from me too.”
You glanced at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you said softly, your voice breaking. “But I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t bother me.”
He let out a breath, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re not pretending. I can see it. And it hurts me too.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.
“We’ll figure it out together,” Jisung said firmly. “But you can’t shut me out. Not when I’m trying to make things better for you.”
“I’m scared,” you admitted, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest. “That no matter how much you try, it won’t ever be enough.”
Jisung cupped your face in his hands, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. “Then let me try harder. Please angel.”
The sincerity in his voice broke something inside you, and you finally let the tears fall, your body trembling against his embrace. “I want to trust you,” you said, your voice a whisper. “But she makes it so hard.”
He held you tighter, his warmth enveloping you in a cocoon of love and comfort. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered against your hair. “I promise.”
The next morning, the cabin was quiet. Seyeon and her mother had gone for an early walk through the snowy woods, leaving the house blissfully empty. Jisung had spent the night thinking about how to make things right, how to remind you that he cared—truly cared—and that nothing his ex said could take that away.
When he found you sitting by the window, staring out into the snowy landscape with a distant look in your eyes, he knew it was time.
“Hey,” he said softly, gently nudging your shoulder. “What do you say we spend the day together? Just us.”
You glanced at him, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Just us?”
“Just us,” he confirmed, his eyes sincere. “Seyeon and her mom are out all day. It’ll just be you and me.”
You hesitated for a moment, the quiet tension in the air between you making it hard to let go of your worries. But then his hand reached for yours, steady and warm, and you felt your resolve soften.
“I’d like that,” you said softly.
The day was crisp and clear, the snow untouched, and the silence between you and Jisung was comfortable. You walked hand in hand through the frosted woods, your breath forming tiny clouds in the cold air.
“You don’t have to worry about her you know,” Jisung said quietly, breaking the silence. “Not today. Today is just about us.”
You nodded, letting his words settle into your heart. “It’s hard, though. Hard not to think about everything.”
“I know,” he murmured, pulling you a little closer. “But we don’t have to carry that weight right now. Let’s just be us.”
You both kept walking, the crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound between you. The crisp air stung your cheeks, but Jisung’s warmth radiating from his coat and his hand in yours made you feel grounded.
After a while, he stopped walking, tugging you gently to a nearby bench tucked between the trees. You sat down together, the snow falling softly around you.
“This is nice,” you said, leaning into him slightly.
“Yeah,” he agreed, brushing a snowflake from your hair. “It’s perfect.”
For a while, you just sat in comfortable silence, the world around you feeling far away. Eventually, Jisung broke the quiet with a soft, playful nudge.
“So, what do you want to do next?” he asked with a smile, his voice teasing. “Snowball fight? Sledding?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re not going to win a snowball fight, Jisung.”
“Oh, you don’t know that,” he said with mock confidence. “I was a champion in school.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving his shoulder. “You’re delusional.”
He laughed, his entire face lighting up. “Okay, fine. We’ll skip the snowball fight. But you owe me something fun.”
You looked up at him, your heart swelling at how easy it felt to be with him, to simply enjoy each other’s company. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“And you’re lucky you’re stuck with me,” he teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your temple.
Jisung held you close, his arm draped comfortably around you, and you let yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace, knowing that even if the world around you wasn’t perfect, this— him—was.
He drags you in the deep woods, making you giggle with a confused expression, “What are we doing now?”
Jisung’s smirk grows bigger when he grabs your waist gently, pushing you gently against a tree, his lips meeting yours. The sudden touch of his cold hands for the snow makes your skin tingle under his touch, “u-um..”
You don’t realise how much you missed your boyfriend’s attention until you are under him, in bed in the empty cabin in his room, with his head between your thighs.
He sucks hard on your nub, feeling your writhe beneath him.
Jisung moans into your pussy as you pulls him closer, your taste filling his senses. He licks and sucks at your folds, his tongue delving deep inside your tight heat. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread open for his mouth.
His tongue flicks against your swollen bud, his fingers slipping inside you to curl up and stroke that spot that drives you wild. “Mmm, you taste amazing baby...”
Jisung's skilled tongue explores every inch of your glistening folds, lapping at your sweet nectar like a man starved. He focuses on your sensitive bud, flicking and circling it rapidly before sucking it between his lips.
“i-i’m so close...” You gasp as you cover your mouth with your hand, your eyes roll back in pleasure.
Feeling your walls starting to flutter around his fingers, Jisung doubles his efforts. He seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, his tongue vibrating against the sensitive nub as he pumps two fingers deep inside your, curling them to hit that perfect spot.
It doesn’t take you long after to cum, his tongue happy to clean you, his eyes meeting yours after that—it was the best head someone gave to you. He stands up between your thighs, looking down to your happy and now relaxed figure, “that’s my girl, all happy and smily.”
A few months had passed since that quiet trip, and life had settled back into its routine. Seyeon had grown closer to you, her attachment deepening as you spent more time with her, nurturing her and becoming a significant part of her life. The bond between the three of you felt natural, but you knew it wasn’t sustainable to keep your relationship with Jisung a secret from her forever.
One evening, after tucking Seyeon into bed, you found Jisung sitting by the fire with a tired smile on his face. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over him. You approached slowly, sitting down beside him with a soft sigh.
“I think it’s time,” you said softly, breaking the silence.
Jisung’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a question. “Time for what?”
“For Seyeon to know about us,” you continued quietly. “About us as more than just... you know, me being her nanny.”
He inhaled deeply, considering your words. “You think she’s ready?”
You nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I do. She talks about you all the time. She knows you’re important to me, but I think it’s time she understands what that means. Fully.”
Jisung reached for your hand, threading his fingers gently with yours. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I have.” You squeezed his hand lightly. “It’s not just about us. It’s about Seyeon feeling secure and knowing that you love her, and that we love her together.”
He smiled softly, leaning in just slightly. “You’re right. She deserves to know. And I don’t want her to feel confused about what we mean to each other.”
“Exactly,” you agreed, squeezing his hand again. “We’ve built something special with her, and I don’t want to hide it anymore.”
Jisung leaned back into his chair, his gaze thoughtful as he considered your words. “It might be a bit overwhelming at first,” he admitted. “But I trust you. We’ll figure it out together.”
You smiled softly, your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “I just want her to know that it’s okay to love both of us.”
He gave you a tender look, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. “She’ll understand. You’ve been there for her in a way that goes beyond what anyone else could. And I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be by her side.”
The warmth of his words settled into your heart, and for the first time in a long while, you felt peace.
“We’ll tell her soon,” you said quietly, feeling a new sense of certainty. “Maybe even tomorrow.”
Jisung nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips. “Tomorrow it is.”
The next day, after breakfast, you and Jisung sat down with Seyeon in the living room. She was playing with her dolls on the carpet, her little giggles filling the space. You and Jisung exchanged a glance, both of you ready for the conversation that was about to change things.
“Seyeon,” Jisung began softly, settling beside her on the floor, “there’s something important we want to talk to you about.”
Seyeon paused, looking up at both of you with wide, curious eyes. “What is it, Daddy?”
You sat down next to Jisung, a gentle smile on your face. “Well, Seyeon, you know y/n, right?”
She nodded eagerly, her small hands clutching a doll close to her chest. “Yeah! y/n takes care of me and plays with me. I love her.”
Jisung smiled warmly. “We love you too, sweetheart. But there’s something else you should know. Y/n isn’t just here to take care of you. She’s a very important person in our lives. She’s someone we care about a lot, someone who loves us just like we love her.”
Seyeon blinked up at him, her little brows furrowing. “So… y/n is more than just my friend?”
You nodded. “That’s right. Jisung and I, we’re all like a family. And we want you to know that it’s okay to love all of us, even if it’s a little different from what you’re used to.”
The room grew quiet for a moment as Seyeon absorbed what you were saying. She stared at you both, her expression thoughtful, before breaking into a small smile. “I already love both of you. So, that’s okay, right?”
Jisung and you exchanged relieved glances, sharing a quiet laugh. “Yes, sweetheart,” Jisung said softly. “That’s more than okay.”
Seyeon clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. “Then I don’t have to worry! I’m happy. I like having both of you.”
You and Jisung embraced her in a hug, the three of you tangled together in the warmth of love. “We’re happy too, Seyeon,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion.
Later that evening, Jisung held you close on the couch, Seyeon nestled between you both as a Disney movie played quietly in the background. She giggled at a funny scene, her little fingers clutching the popcorn bowl, as Jisung’s arm tightened around your shoulders.
“I thought she might not understand,” you admitted softly, feeling Jisung’s warmth seep into your bones.
“She’s smart,” Jisung replied, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And you made it easy for her. She loves you more than you know.”
You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “She loves both of us.”
“And that’s perfect,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.
For the first time, the weight of uncertainty seemed to lift. Together, you and Jisung had built a family—one that was unique, imperfect, but full of love and understanding. And that was all that mattered.
The sun set gently over the quiet cabin, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange. The sound of a crackling fire filled the room, its warmth spreading through the space as you sat together with Jisung and Seyeon. She sat between you both, her small hands clasped tightly as she listened to a bedtime story Jisung was reading.
“And then, the prince and princess lived happily ever after,” Jisung finished, his voice smooth and comforting. He closed the book gently and kissed Seyeon’s forehead.
“Goodnight, Daddy,” Seyeon whispered sleepily, her eyelids fluttering closed.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Jisung murmured, tucking a blanket around her.
You watched quietly, a soft smile on your face as you ran your fingers through Seyeon’s hair. She was fast asleep in no time, her little breaths steady and peaceful. Jisung carefully carried her to her bed, placing her down gently and pulling the covers up to her chin.
Once she was tucked in, he returned to you, sitting beside you on the couch with a sigh of contentment. You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder as the fire continued to burn warmly in the hearth.
“I think she finally understands,” Jisung said softly, his voice low and affectionate.
You nodded, smiling up at him. “Yeah, she does. She loves us both so easily.”
“She’s lucky,” he said quietly, his arm wrapping around you. “Having two people who care about her like this. You’ve been amazing with her, baby.”
You gave him a small laugh. “Well, she makes it easy. How could I not love her?”
“She’s lucky,” he repeated, pulling you closer. “But so am I.”
The room settled into a peaceful stillness. Outside, the snow continued to fall gently, blanketing the world in white. Inside, it was warm and cozy, the only sounds being the crackling fire and the soft hum of your shared presence.
You and Jisung sat in comfortable silence, lost in the little moments of your own little family. This, right here—this calm, this love—was enough.
No matter what came next, you knew you had each other. And that was everything.
@chancloud8 @hanji-coffee .
#han jisung#Han Jisung dilf#Han Jisung skz#Han Jisung x reader#han jisung fluff#han jisung smut#Han Jisung x you#Han Jisung x y/n#skz#( skz. — 💭! )#stray kids#han#stray kids diff#stray kids smut#skz smut#smut#stray kids x reader#slow burn#Han Jisung slow burn#hanji#stray kids han#han smut
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yoga!reader guiding clark through some moves and his pants get too tight bcos of the way you look in your workout clothes with your ass practically in his face
“so you really think this is gonna help me? you know, with all the… stress?”
it was honestly adorable the way you nodded with a smile, so sure that something as simple as yoga could ease clark of the constant earth-shattering nature of his life — but in your defence, you were none the wiser to the fact he was super human. he’d brushed it off as ‘parent-troubles’ and you’d been too polite to prod further.
“mhm! yoga has helped me through some really hard times, clark. trust me, a little bit every day goes a long way.” you grin, all bubbly and sweet as you lead him to the mat in the empty home gym of your garage. your parents were never home, and he was starting to think you were just happy to have someone over.
he looks around, strolling casually behind you as you set up his little station— hands casually in his sweatpant pockets as he tries to avoid staring right at your ass when you bend over to smooth out his yoga mat. baby pink, so he knew it belonged to you.
“plus, yoga is good for lots of things.” you continue on, intent on filling the silence. “practicing every day has made my body super flexible.” you brag cutely, dusting off your yoga pants as you stand once more.
“oh yeah?” his head whips over to you, which was meant to be innocent but he later realised how eager he might’ve sounded to hear about what positions you can get into.
“yeah! but those kind of things are more advanced. comes with practice. i’d probably start you with some breathing exercises, sitting cross legged. something as simple as that can be yoga too, you know?” you chat, glancing over your shoulder as the two of you take a seat, you slightly infront of him so he could watch and copy you. “or perhaps downward dog? that’s a classic.”
“downward dog?” clark chuckles in amusement at the silly name and you share his confused giggle.
“i know, sounds weird. but it’s easy!” you chirp, spinning on your knees and assuming the position - which happened to quite literally be presenting yourself to clark. you hold the pose, impressively at that — and he finds himself entranced for a moment, eyebrows slowly raising as he boyishly stares at your painted on leggings, snapping himself out of it just as he began to swear he could see the outline of your puffy pussy through the fabric. he clears his throat, physically shaking away the thoughts. he was raised better than that — besides, the loose sweatpants he wore would be anything but forgiving if he let himself get carried away.
“eheuhm— yeah! that’s uh, that’s pretty impressive.” he smiles in his usual friendly way and you spin back to him like a puppy who’d just performed a trick for its owner, looking totally happy with yourself beneath his praise.
“yeah? it was one of the first things i perfected.” you shrug, trying to feign humble now. when you turn to grab your water bottle, clark subtly pulls at his sweatpants to adjust himself as well as he could in such short time. you’re none the wiser. “is there anything specific you wanna learn? i’m not sure how familiar you are with yoga…”
“oh! well, uh— hey. you’re the teacher here. i’ll be grateful for any kind of tips.” he presses his lips together humbly, eyes earnest as he places a hand over his white-tshirt clad chest. that strong chest you kept glancing at.
“hm.” you push your mouth into the corner and tap your chin like a cartoon character. his lips twitch up some more because he finds it adorable. “well i’ve always wanted to try two person yoga… never had a partner to do it with though.” you look down, shy at the suggestion and he sits up a little bit — jumping to reassure you. he couldn’t stand seeing a pretty girl doubt herself. maybe he was also slightly jumping at the notion of touching you. not in a creepy way of course — well, he’s not sure now.
“that sounds like a great idea.” he speaks intentionally, as if trying to convey the reassurance he felt you needed, eyes locked on you until you reciprocate the eye contact. there’s that smile again.
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I love your headcanons of Tasm!Peter x chubby reader on a fall day, and I was wondering if you’d consider doing something similar but during winter/Christmas? I understand if not, because the headcannons were part of a follower celebration! Or maybe a fic with Peter and reader at a Christmas market? Sending you air kisses! 💋
Thanks for requesting lovely! I didn't really find ways to make this explicitly chubby reader but as always you're welcome to imagine her with any body type you like. Air kisses back! <3
cw: reader has hair long enough to put up/pull back
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 665 words
Peter finds himself obsessed with your ears. You’ve forgone a hat and your hair is up, but you seem overall less concerned with the crisp wind than Peter is. Every time you stop in a stall, his hands come up over your ears, trying to coax warmth into them. You’re more or less ignoring him.
“We should get you some earmuffs,” Peter says while you peruse a vendor’s selection of ornaments.
“Why, when I have you?”
“Rude.” He pinches the top of your ear. “I’m good for more than that.”
You step to the side, and Peter follows dutifully, not making his point very well.
“You’re the one who wants to do this,” you argue good naturedly. “My ears are fine. Also, we’re supposed to be finding things for other people, not ourselves.”
Peter lifts one hand away from your ear, blowing hot air into his cupped hand. You jump and squeal, ticklish, apologizing hastily to the vendor when she looks your way.
“Stop that,” you hiss at Peter, face still warm with the echo of your smile. When you take his hands and use them to pull him closer Peter doesn’t resist, his arms draping over your shoulders and his front against your back.
He kisses your cheek complaisantly. “If I bought them for you they wouldn’t be for myself.”
“Peter. Focus.” You hold up a small ornament. “Do you think your aunt would like this? She really likes elephants, right?”
“She does,” Peter allows, “but she’s got, like, ten jillion elephant ornaments already.”
You frown. “Do you think that means she might want more?”
He weighs this. “Maybe. Her tree’s gonna collapse, though.”
“This one’s light. It won’t be our fault.” You hold onto the ornament. Peter grins and smushes his lips to your face again. You squeeze his hands, turning your face like you’re going to kiss him but stopping when something catches your eye. “Oh.” Your voice bends with adoration. “Look at this.”
You reach out to pull an ornament off the wall. It’s a small wooden bird, intricate, with strings attached to its wings and belly. Its body has been painted with tiny, meticulous brushstrokes to give it feathers of various colors. You pull gently on the string, and its wings move up and down.
“That is cool,” Peter says.
You’re charmed, eyes soft and happy. It’s the way you look out the window when it’s snowing or at dogs walking past you on the street. “It’s so lovely.”
Peter has the urge to kiss you silly. “It is.”
“Do we know anyone that would want this?”
“You, obviously.”
You give Peter a sideways smile paired with a playful glare. “Anyone else.”
He hugs you close, mouth pulling to one side as he thinks. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. I mean, it’s really cool, but I don’t know anyone who would like it as much as you.”
You pull the string again, watching the wooden bird’s wings flap ruefully. Peter knows you’ll never get it for yourself.
“Hey,” he says, “let’s go get some shitty hot chocolate. I’m freezing.”
Your smile renews. “You are not.”
“Fine, you got me. I want to get you a hot chocolate because I’m worried your face is gonna freeze. Please?”
“Okay.” You return the ornament to its hook, dotting a kiss on Peter’s cheek and gathering up the ones you’ve already decided to get. “Let me just buy these and we can go.”
You know your boyfriend well enough to be suspicious of him. You keep a close eye on Peter as you pay for your gifts, chatting with the vendor and beaming when she gives you a little pouch with a ribbon for each one. He smiles guilelessly and lets you take him by the hand to pull him with you out of the stall.
Fortunately, Peter is quicker than you give him credit for. His cash is on the counter and your ornament safely in his pocket before you turn the corner.
#tasm peter parker#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x fem!reader#tasm!peter parker x y/n#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x self insert#tasm!peter parker fanfiction#tasm!peter parker fanfic#tasm!peter parker fic#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm peter parker fluff#tasm!peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker scenario#tasm!peter parker drabble#tasm!peter parker blurb#tasm!peter parker one shot#tasm!peter parker oneshot#tasm#tasm spiderman#tasm!spiderman#tasmania#the amazing spiderman#tasm x reader#the amazing spiderman fandom#the amazing spiderman fanfiction
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shidou ryusei x bimbo!reader
c/w . implied female reader, implied smut, fluff, shidou ryusei is crazy for you wc: 1 k a/n . shidou ryusei my beloved. literally obsessed with his crazy ass ugh <3 reblogs and comments appreciated ✧*.
pt 1, pt 2
imagine...
shidou who loves every bit of you. your short pink skirt that shows off your panties every time you jump around, your too tight shirts that show off your body and the way you make him feel like the smartest person in the world.
like - no baby, pikachu is not a real animal.
you bounce off each others energies so well, your dynamic is literally popular jock x popular cheerleader. he'd be at games and look for you in the stands, pointing and blowing kisses in your direction. and you'd return them in fervor, shaking your 'ryu-baby you can do it!!!' sign that was decorated with pink glitter and cut-out hearts.
he once flashed his tits to you while sticking his tongue out. you'd almost returned the favour but your friend stopped you. truly lucky for everyone, cause if you had done that ryusei would , firstly, destroy every camera in that stadium and then give everyone concussions because nobody but him could look at your bahonkers.
shidou who adores how your hands look in his. your acrylic nails that leave a delicious sting whenever they touch him beautifully contrast his own dull short nails that you manicured yourself.
"babe you need to look after your nails! at the very least let me paint a base coat!" you'd pout at him, fluttering your pretty eyelashes at him while holding his hands close to your chest.
usually when you went out together he'd hold you by the waist, but every time you get new acrylics he'd hold you by your hands. he loves playing with your nails, feeling the new textures you'd gotten.
he'll let you paint his nails too, makes you promise to get your painted the colour of his tip.
shidou who tells everyone about his beautiful partner. at this point, everybody in the world knew you were together, with how obnoxious he was about your relationship. in every interview he's able to bring you up. doesn't matter if no one asked him, he'll talk about you.
and he almost always gives them a little too much info.
"what i think of the other team? think they all suck. saw one of them lookin' at m' doll and i was gonna knock 'im out! i mean - i get it. they're fuckin' hot but they're mine."
"o-ok, well-"
"ya'll know about us right? i'm taken by her," he shows a polaroid picture of you he put on the back of his phone. "and she's mine. she's so cute too, almost sued dog treat companies cause she thought they were made from actual dogs."
"yes, let's move on-"
"and look - she painted my nails. painted them the colour of m' eyes."
"alright that's cute-"
"she painted hers the colour of my tip-"
"ANYWAYS."
shidou who loves doing makeup with you. yes he only has to do eyeliner, but he loves distracting talking to you while you get yourself ready to go out.
he absolutely adores helping you put on lip gloss. he has you seat on his lap, a hand holding your jaw while the other holds the applicator. he definitely steals a few kisses first though. wets your lips he says and you just nod along, too dumb to realise that the lip gloss does that for you.
that doesn't mean he doesn't kiss you after applying the gloss though. after making you smack your lips together he dives in like he's going for a goal, sucking and biting your bottom lip. you'd get so angry cause you'll have to clean your makeup up, but he doesn't care too much. he'll just sit there, pink smeared over his lips as you fret over your appearance.
he also loves when you help him draw on his eyeliner. he'll have his chin pressed on your fantastic titties, one of your hands on the back of his head as the other held the liner.
when this happens his eyes always seem to take in your features. the wrinkle of your eyebrows or the way your mouth is slightly open, he loves looking at you.
shidou who has to be pulled back by you every time he gets into a fight. it could be for any reason. they were looking at him funny, they were looking at you periodt, they were getting too close, anything and everything gets him riled up. especially if it involves you. his special little doll he loves so much.
he's got to protect what is his after all.
you'd hold him from behind both hands on his chest as you try to pull him away. "baby they're not worth your time!"
"those fuckers called ya dumb doll! ain't no fuckin' way i'd let that slide!" only he was allowed to call you that. he's growling, dangerous smirk on his face as the veins on his arms and neck stand up. this, you think, is when he's the most sexy.
the only way to stop him is to direct his anger into a different place.
you step closer, pressing your plush breasts against his back, the hand on his chest sliding up to his neck as the other moved to hold his shoulder.
"mm...but baby it's getting really hot here, and i really really want you." you stand on your tippy toes, pouted lips pressing against his ear as you whisper into his it.
his anger almost fully vanishes, gone with the guys who 'insulted' you. now his anger changes to something else, something more...dangerous.
to you, that is. cause you won't be walking for the next few days.
shidou who after tussles with people, lets you nurse him back to health. loves when you play doctor cause he get's all of your attention to himself.
doesn't matter if it's a bruise or if its his cut up knuckles, you tend to all his injuries with loving care. of course, you don't really know what your'e doing but it's the thought that counts! and he won't stop you when you use cute kuromi plasters on his wounds.
yes they are glittery, and pink and cutesy. yes everyone at training talks about how lovesick he looks when he stares at his fingers. but does he care? no.
#x reader#shidou ryusei#shidou x reader#shidou ryuusei x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#x bimbo!reader#bllk imagines#✧. bllk
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Hello there! Can I request some yandere Black Swan, Acheron, Jingliu and Kafka (self aware) x male reader who is single and has absolutely no experience in relantionship yet is down bad for them or has an interest for them
Call me crazy… I get a feeling you like women…
————
Black Swan
She automatically knows you like her. She feels your eyes looking down at her softly, the same way others look at her when they found her attractive.
And she is a bragging bitch about it. “Oh, his grace built you? Couldn’t be me~ he maxed me out immediately~”
She finds your inexperience down right adorable. The way you stutter at least thrice when she’s in your vision. The way your eyes shine when she talks.
When you eventually get dragged into the world of Honkai Star rail, she lets go of all restrains. With no shame she flirts with you EVERY SEXTILLION SECOND.
She makes sure your a flustered and blushing mess, rubbing against you so your hand grazes her chest area.
Getting close enough to make sure her breath attacks your neck and the her lips tickle your skin, while whispering provocative things into your ear.
She always steals you away from people any chance/time she gets/wants to. After all, you LOVE her right~? There’s no issues with acting as you girlfriend (unofficial)
Just to make sure no one interferes in your little sessions, she goes into glass paintings/objects with you (in her trailer she goes into things like glass paintings)
Her hands are always on you in some manner, weather it be romantically around your neck or your arms, or in a more sexual manner.
In short, black swan takes the lead in this relationship
Acheron
She’s pretty confused on why you’re acting different with her at first. However, after a few moments/after encountering firefly and the trailblazer on their ‘date’ she’d finally realize you LIKE her.
She acts more shy whenever your around her, she doesn’t really know how to interact with you. More so because she doesn’t know how to… react to your feelings.
Yes she loves you back, but she’s never had a crush/lover so she’s as lost and inexperienced as you.
Although others are jealous of her, they also find it pretty fucking cute, and make a whole ‘will they or won’t they’ game show.
In battle acheron will always crit for you, and when in idle she compliments you subtly. She doesn’t wanna scare you away.
The ancient scrolls say you believe their video game characters. so she’ll hide her time until you finally get transferred back here, to your real home AND to her.
And when you do get isekai’d by whatever fuckin means, I’d like to congratulate you, as you now have earned a VERY FUCKING SCARY GUARD DOG.
Acheron doesn’t leave your side for a second (unless you ask her to in which case she’ll stand BEHIND you. Or if your in the bathroom)
Acheron quickly learns how to show her love towards you through acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch.
She likes to hold your hand, and with no shame likes to proclaim to everyone that the two of you are an item. Which you don’t deny.
Acheron takes the lead in the relationship
Jingliu
The most normal about your attraction to her.
She’ll be honored that you love her, and shows it through ALWAYS crit damaging enemies and taking less health from her allies.
While in idle she’ll (like everyone else) will say a unofficial voiceline towards you, complimenting you and slightly hinting that she knows she’s a ‘video game character’
Another unofficial thing she’ll do while in idle is remove her blindfold and stare into your eyes lovingly YET respectfully.
When you get transferred into the game, it’s basically the same as acheron. But she’s more open and well normal about your relationship.
She’s slightly overprotective and possessive but that’s about it. She spends all her time by your side, weather it be in bed (get yo mind out the gutter) or IN bed (put it back in the gutter) or simply walking/exploring other planets.
She shows her love through..well everything. Acts of service, physical touch, gift giving, etc…
Overall not much to say here, she’s the most normal and a less scary (when not Mara-struck) acheron.
No one takes the lead, yall just switch leading roles every other day.
Kafka
Kafka is also very similar to black swan.
She immediately knows you love her, and she takes pride in it, after all who doesn’t? (Kafka’s the type to make gay men question themselves, as I myself can NOT attest to 😉)
Unlike her fellow…acolytes, she’s much more suave and blunt about her knowledge on your attraction. After all, your so adorable and cute for the god of gods (or as I like to refer to the reader who’s a god in self aware au—THE OMNI AEON)
In idle, she pulls out a blurry photo of your and kisses it while staring right at you. It’s blurry to you but VERY visible to kafka.
She’s also the only person in this who’ll outright state she knows she’s in a game and loves you (like sues in that one episode of gravity falls with his A.I yandere love)
Overall there’s nothing else to add here, she’s just another black swan when it comes to this scenario. OH wait no!
She uses her webs to manipulate you to dance gracefully with her and makes you touch her body while feigning innocence and teasing you.
She takes the lead in the relationship.
Okay I’m done. 4 or 5 more requests to finish
#male reader#honkai star rail#hsr#self aware honkai star rail#sahsrau#yandere#acheron#black swan#jingliu#kafka#self aware acheron#self aware kafka#self aware black swan#self aware jingliu#jingliu hsr#acheron hsr#kafka hsr#black swan hsr#kafka x male reader#jingliu x male reader#black swan x male reader#acheron x male reader
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About the cartoon episode dreams.
What if when the other Smiling Critters show up in them, they kinda... act/react out of character for a second. Before getting back into character and smiling again. Some are wistful, and glad that at least one of them survived. Others are kinda salty that Catnap, of all critters, is one of the ones that survived after all he did. (Nothing more than like a brief gasp, them just pausing to stare in horror at the Catnap innocently perching on Y/N's shoulder, or a sad sigh and somber expression before snapping back into place.)
Just something ever so slightly amiss about those Red Smoke induced dreams.
exactly what i was thinking
like, the very first "episode" that y/n experiences is their introduction into the critters' world. they're found, dazed and confused in the woods, by dogday, who of course wants to help them and introduce them to his friends. they wander the woods for a bit, y/n following dogday and listening to him talk about how neat all his friends are. there's something...sad about it, but y/n has no idea why.
after walking a ways, dogday stops suddenly. he's flung an arm out in front of y/n to stop them too, almost protectively. he stares wide-eyed and completely still at a tree to their left. his ever present grin turns down at the edges, and he goes quiet. y/n follows his line of sight to a branch higher up.
a purple cat snoozes in the tree, his long tail dangling in the open air. it flicks occasionally. he seems to sense the presence of our heroes, because he slowly opens his eyes, stretching before turning towards them. his smile grows at the sight of his friend, and he tilts his head curiously at the new arrival standing next to him.
y/n feels a chill down their spine at his stare. they don't know why, but...they feel like they need to run.
then dogday says a cheery hello, seemingly broken out of his trance, and ease returns to the scene. the cat, introduced as dogday's best buddy catnap, comes down from the tree. he silently stares at y/n as dogday introduces them, a big smile on his face. y/n greets him nicely, and after a beat, the cat takes hold of y/n's hand. they get the feeling he's saying that he's ready to go. dogday laughs at his friend's silly ways, grabs y/n's other hand, and leads the group on.
the trio continues through the woods, dogday and y/n laughing and carrying on while catnap remains silent. y/n can feel him intermittently squeezing their fingers or rubbing his thumb on the back of their palm, feeling the bones underneath. they wonder if he or his friends have ever seen a human before.
after a short while, the two critters and their new friend come upon a clearing with a cluster of adorably themed houses. y/n, amused, figures the scratching post and the dog house are the homes of their two new little buddies.
in a big circle in the clearing, a group of critters similar to their two companions are happily playing.
they see a rabbit and a bird playing soccer, an elephant and a unicorn scribbling on some paper and painting at an easel, and a bear and a pig seemingly setting up a picnic. it looks nice. it's a beautiful day for all of them, and they all look so content. y/n feels a pang in their chest.
they want to cry, and they're not sure why.
dogday notices, and gently squeezes their hand. he says nothing, but the sad, shaky smile he gives them speaks volumes.
it's quickly gone when the rabbit notices him and calls his name. the other critters look up as well, a myriad of hellos raising a joyous cadence in the air. they all look so happy to see dogday. their curiosity at y/n is apparent as well, asking who they are and where they come from. the critters all have questions about them, and y/n does their best to answer them.
then catnap steps out from behind y/n's back.
the group of critters all go silent.
they all stare at him; some horrified, some angry. not even a breath is taken in at the sight of the drowsy feline. if catnap is put off by his friend's reactions to him, he makes no indication. though his grip on y/n's hand tightens.
but then the critters snap back to attention. it's almost like they've all decided unanimously to ignore catnap altogether. he doesn't react, his gaze trained on y/n just like the others. his grin hasn't moved.
the critters introduce themselves. bubba, crafty, hoppy, kickin, picky, and bobby. y/n feels like they know them all already. after dogday informs them all that y/n is trying to find a way home, the critters agree that they'll do what they can to help.
the episode ends in static.
y/n wakes up.
———
–more thoughts; dogday, catnap, and y/n are the ones who feel the strangeness of the dreams the most. the other critters have their moments, but not as often. otherwise most of the dialogue is pretty standard for a kids cartoon.
– another sad thought is that in each dream, the other smiling critters start to dissapear, one by one, confusing dogday and y/n (catnap seems...unresponsive. he also tends to dissapear when the others do, but comes back). they try and try to find them, but they're nowhere to be found. eventually, dogday and catnap are the only ones left. dogday has been getting angrier and angrier at catnap, and he's not sure why. the cat remains as pleasantly lackadaisical as always, though at times his grin seems to freeze and pupils seem to shrink.
–each critter gets an episode where they try to help y/n and y/n helps them in some way. each one would have y/n giving advice on how to solve a problem, using the cutout dialogue from the game as inspiration for the problems the critters face. helping bubba remember something he forgot, helping kickin overcome a fear, helping crafty finish a painting she struggles with, find bobby when she gets lost, helping hoppy reach a goal, helping picky try something new.
after a critter has their own episode, they dissapear.
#ooooooooh the angst potential is through the roof#yn and dogday are gonna go through so much more hurt#poppy playtime
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"i don’t like the way they keep staring at you." w/ peeta 'if it weren't for the baby' mellark? :3
truthfully, your hands are beginning to grow a little shaky from doing this for so long. the minor tremble is smudging your paint strokes, causing a few swipes to stray from the imaginary lines you have mapped out in your head. but no one can fault you for that; not rightfully. you're not the skilled painter here.
and as if on cue the man who's art you adore so much is sliding up next to you. painfully close–abnormally close, more like. you are not a stranger to his affection but something about how a calloused hand finds the divot in the small of your back so swiftly has you tipping your head to address him. in such a public venue, no less.
"yes?" you adhere as you turn to peeta with a smile. but a smile is not what you're greeted with in return. no, this upturn of lips is a little too slanted for that, a little too suave.
"nothing, just came to admire the expert at work." it's all he says, all he gives, and you know it cannot be all there is because he has that glint in his eye he only gets when he is being smarmy.
"right, well, we both know i'm not the expert here, so," you blow through a chuckle as you drop your paintbrush into a murky cup of water. "what is it you really came over here for, mr. mellark?"
you turn to face him properly and expect this to be where he drops his hands, looses his hold on you. but he does exactly the opposite. instead of feigning, his fingers simply shift–down to your belt loops. there's a single tug; harsh and surging enough you can now feel the heat of his thighs radiating against yours.
"i don't like the way they keep staring at you." and it's jolting; how he says it with such a sickeningly sweet tongue and cherry pressed lips, as if his eyes aren't glinting like the blades of daggers in moonlight.
you lick your lips, force a laugh as you pat at his chest to stave off the turn of your stomach. "please, they're probably just admiring my expert painting skills. this is a dog and pony show, you know."
it's meant to be a jab, a taunt. throwing peeta's own words back in his face to throw him off and maybe turn his grin a little more genuine and a little less guileful. yet all it does is seem to cause his lips to twitch ever deeper, carve their way up to the dimple in his cheek.
"i know what they're admiring, and it isn't your canvas."
he side steps you, picks your brush back up and in one swift motion tosses it behind him in such a way it looks like a mere accidental dropping. an accident, that seems to have splattered the red stain directly on that of a capital patron who is positioned a little closer than you thought they were allowed to be to the.. entertainment.
eyes slightly widened, there is no denying the skip of your heart now as peeta's lip brush against the shell of your ear. "you belong in a gallery all of my own. a stunning, private collection," he whispers.
then with no more than an innocent kiss to your temple and a squeeze to your hip, he's gone. rushing to retrieve your brush and usher out apologies through his golden boy personage, his charm winning as it always does in favor of the capitol. and you are left dazed, wanting nothing more than to shrink into your skin. not because of the peering and prying eyes of the entire nation; but because of the yearning and burning eyes of your lover.
#this is . a little more than a blyrbdnkaj#SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY HE IS JUS SOOMKJF DK#blurb#peeta mellark x reader#peeta mellark blurb
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sirius black is the kind of man to let you do anything to him. you can touch his hair (only you). you can pint his face with kisses, you can even do his makeup. paint his nails. sirius black is a quality time man. "want to paint my nails baby?" "mhmm, let me get the paint."
thank you for requesting!🖤
.
Sirius Black was absolutely and positively whipped for you.
And everybody but you knew that.
By some power that was beyond anybody’s understanding, you didn’t seem to understand the deeper meaning behind his actions. You didn’t bat an eye at the adoring looks he gave you, nor the compliments he was constantly showering you in. You didn’t question the way he would make up any excuse to be the one sitting next to you in class or at dinner, or even the amount of times he joined you in the library to study despite the fact he hardly got any work done.
But the biggest mystery was how you never seemed to understand Sirius’ feelings for you despite the fact you were the single person in that castle that was allowed to touch his hair.
It was a well-known fact that Sirius loved his hair, and he prided himself in the fact it was known around the castle, no matter what year the students were in or if it was by the professors themselves. Everyone knew the care he put into his hair, and they knew he didn’t like anybody touching it—no matter what.
There had been cases where Sirius found himself in detention because someone tried to mess with his hair and he hexed him.
There had been dates quickly cut short when they had tried tangling their fingers in his hair.
There had been threats made whenever the boys pushed too far with the jokes about his hair.
But with you—he didn’t have a single care in the world, but that just seemed to be a fact that went over your head constantly.
“That feels delightful, darling,” he hummed in delight, his eyes falling shut as he rested his head against your lap, enjoying the way your nails lightly scratched against his scalp.
He had practically barged into the library, packing your books away despite your insistence not too. But Sirius started bragging about what a great day it was—a rarity with Scottish weather—and insisted you take a small break with him in the courtyard.
He had charmed a blanket out for both of you, and when you took a seat, Sirius was quick to place his head on your lap and give you an innocent grin that you knew the meaning of all too well.
“I feel like you dragged me out here just to scratch your head like a dog rather than take a break from studying,” you mused, taking in the sharp lines of his face and how they contrasted when he looked as though he was in a peaceful sleep.
“I just like your hands on me,” the boy remarked with a boyish grin, catching the hand you raised to smack his chest with before it even hit him. However, instead of letting it go, he intertwined your fingers together. “I just feel relaxed around you. I want to return the favour.”
Your cheeks warmed. “That is the best compliment you’ve ever given me.”
His lips twitched. “Does this mean you’re finally catching the hint that I’m flirting with you?”
Your hand paused. “What?”
Sirius let out a small whine when you stopped scratching his head but when he cracked his eyes open, he couldn’t help but grin a little at the confused expression on your face. “You really never noticed?”
“I was supposed to?” you retorted.
“Well yeah,” he said with a heavy sigh. “You get extra privileges.”
“Like what?”
“The fact your hand is anywhere near my hair right now is the biggest,” he said before he opened his eyes to properly look at you. “Like I said, I feel safe around you.”
“So you trust me in touching your hair?” you asked in a slightly softer voice.
“Yeah, love,” he confirmed with a nod of his head.
“You’re a secret softie, Sirius Black,” you murmured and delighted in the way his cheeks burned pink, but his grin mirrored your own. “I quite like you too.”
“Thank Merlin for that, otherwise these head scratching breaks would’ve gotten really awkward,” he remarked, causing you to snort.
.
#sirius black#marauders#harry potter#hp#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius black fic#sirius black one shot#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders fic#marauders one shot#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fic#harry potter oneshot#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp fic#hp one shot
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HEAR ME OUT.
READER WANTING TO HAND OUT CANDY TO LITTLE KIDS 😭 LIKE EACH OC IS PROBABLY GONNA SAY NO BUT READER CONVINCES THEM SOMEHOW
Halloween special<3
Warnings: the three dirty yanderes being dirty as usual
Silas:
Genuinely loves halloween, loves to scare little children for absolutely no reason at all. But he doesn’t want you to want to do the same thing — or whatever you wanted to do. He wants you to be with him only, dressed up for his eyes. He has never allowed kids to come for trick or treating, but you manage to convince him to leave out a bucket of candy this year. You sit curled up in the window in your costume, watching to see if any kids will come take from your prepared bucket. Time goes, but no one comes.
“Don’t be sad, little thing. They’ve never been allowed to come here so they probably don’t know that they can come here this year. And I think that their parents know who I am, so they don’t want to send their kids over here anyhow. I know that you were excited, but this is the reality of being a criminal. Bring the bucket inside and we can overindulge. By the way, your costume turns me on.”
Dr Kry:
Dr Kry has given you a little makeup to paint you into a vampire. You have a bucket of candy in your hand while Dr Kry brings you through the hospital to visit small children laying in their beds. He thinks that you’re adorable with kids and finds himself staring at you talking to a little boy. You pet his teddy bear and give him a chocolate bar before walking out of the room to go to the next.
“You’re really nice, and great with kids … wow. Why I’m not dressed up? I don’t like that very much, but I like to see you dressed up. That fulfills my need of costumes for this year. Next year maybe. Let’s see how much candy you have left. Do you want to keep those for yourself or give them out? Give them out? You’re so nice, Y/N. Let’s move on. You need to go back to bed soon, so better hurry. Before the air and its toxins get to you.”
King Edmund:
Halloween doesn’t exist in his timeline, but he decides to have a masquerade ball for kids and by your request, the doors standswide open for the entire kingdom. Parents of all classes came to drop of their kids in cute costumes. Edmund sits on his throne, watching over you and the fifty children in the big hall. He looks at you with a small smile, seeing how you take such good care of the little kids. While they dance, you go to get a bucket of candy. Edmund gets down from his throne and walks over to you.
“It seems like you have quite the control, my dear. I can't understand how you like these creatures. Yes, I know I've been a kid and yes I know I'll have to have a kid in the future, but still. Look at them? You're doing great though. Keep doing that and I'll have to pump a child in you sooner than planned."
Jerry:
She refuses, but gives in once she gets to hear that she can scare the kids. Doesn't want to couple match because she finds it cringe, but if you're going to match, she wants to be superior to you like owner and dog or queen and peasant, or even cop and jailcriminal.
"I'm going to scare so many fucking kids, this is going to be amazing. Don't give me that look. It's trick or treat! You give the treat and well … I do the trick. Stop being a baby, it'll be fun. We could do role-playing in these costumes, by the way. Just wait until we get back home. I'll show you what a queen does to the peasant who hasn't given crops to the castle."
Hedwig:
Of course she'll love it! She will buy too much candy and decorate the entire mansion for kids to come trick or treating. You'll be in adorable couple costumes (chosen by Hedwig of course) and have fun with the little kids. Hedwig shines every time she pretends to get scared by a little kid.
"You look really cute, Y/N. Do you like this? Imagine when we get kids, we can do this every year, create our own traditions. We can dress in family costumes and … and have really, really fun. You look really cute with kids, Y/N. But I’m starting to wonder if you like the candy more. It’s okay, we have a lot, sweetheart, just eat away.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere mafia#yandere oc x reader#yandere reactions#yandere doctor#yandere king#yandere royal#yandere female
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Fluffcember #12 (Reno x Reader)
Fluff headcannons
-Defining Reno in two words: Chaos. Gremlin. He's cute, but crazy. If you are an introvert, dig yourself a hole and jump in it now. Reno is that extroverted friend we all have that drags us out to do unnecessary shit even in the middle of the night.
-This man legit shows up at your front doorstep at 3:00 A.M. with a bottle of wine and a Walmart bag full of those Great Value "Frosted creme sandwich cookies" that are obviously knock-off Oreos, declaring "Babe, we're gonna re-invent the cookie industry! Let's make Winey-O's!" "Reno, for God's sake, it's 3 in the morning!"
-Comes up with ridiculous projects to do with you, each one getting weirder and weirder as the days go by. It started with something simple and innocent such as making homemade slime out of butter or the fluffy bits inside diapers, and soon evolved into really weird shit such as using glow-in-the-dark paint to redecorate your toilet. Life with Reno is crazy.
-Regardless of whether you guys live together or not, Reno wakes you up at 5:00 A.M. every day, no matter how late you guys stayed up last night trying to put glitter on the sides of your TV. He'll either jump on you and bounce up and down like a kid on Christmas or call you and sing scream a really off-key rendition of "I Will Always Love you" once it goes to voicemail. The sound of it is terrifying--never ceases to jolt you out of bed.
-Loves to run up and tackle you to the ground before pinning you there and peppering your face with kisses akin to the way a dog licks it's owner's face.
-He misses you so, so, so, so much when he has to go away for Turk work, but when he finally comes home, he will literally run into your arms screaming "IT'S MY BAAAAAAAAAAAABIEEEEEEE" And then proceed to sob about how much he missed you until your clothes are wet with his tears.
-This dude can't cook. At all. If you leave him alone with food in the kitchen for 5 minutes, when you come back, the stove will be on fire, your frying pan will be lodged in the ceiling, several knives will be stuck to the fridge, salt, sugar, and spices will be everywhere, and Reno'll just be chilling in the corner, whistling while trying to chop a carrot with a mangled spoon.
-When he's not burning down your kitchen, he'll be lounging in the living room trying to find a Netflix series to watch. Eventually you wander in and the two of you sit down to a nice movie. His favorite genres are comedy and romance (partially because then he can "re-enact" the scenes), but he'll watch just about anything as long as you like it.
-Loves to get all snuggled up during your movie nights, especially by lying in your lap and having you play with his hair. He likes it so much because it acts like white noise and gives him something to focus on so he can fall asleep.
-Always falls asleep in your lap, and looks so cute, too. Gone is the mischievous smirk; the troublemaking gleam in his eyes, replaced by a precious, serene look of utter peace that is reflected by his smushed up cheeks.
Just like this. Adorable.
#Ffvii#Ff7#Final fantasy 7#Ffvii Reno#Ff7 Reno#Reno Sinclair#Reno of the turks#Reno x reader#Headcannons#Fluff#fluffy headcanons#Fluffcember#Part 12 of 31
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read more of the good omens book. i am in love with crowley. go away.
I'M DONE WITH THE SECTION WEDNESDAY AND GOD DEAR GOD AND SATAN AND EVERYONE IN BETWEEN I AM SO FUCKING IN LOVE WITH CROWLEY IT HURTS.
This is exactly why I was petrified of the bloody book. It's going to make the brainrot irredeemably deep. Entire bodyrot, in fact. Even Tommy (yes I named my haematoma Tommy, and he's trans, so he's a he/himatoma) will succumb to the rot.
THE LINE: "RIGHT," MUMBLED CROWLEY, SUDDENLY FEELING VERY ALONE. IT IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE. IT HURTS ME EVERY DAY SINCE I FIRST READ IT, WHICH WAS WHEN I GOT THE BOOK LIKE A MONTH AGO. I OPENED IT AT A RANDOM SECTION AND READ THAT AND PROMPTLY SHUT THE BOOK AND PROCEEDED TO CRY. THAT WAS THE MOMENT I BEGAN TO FEAR THE BOOK.
Aziraphale, you silly, silly, adorable little prissy motherfucker. What a bastard.
Sister Mary Loquacious making up her mind to have an orgasm gives a whole new subtext to my thirst for her during the rewatch of episode one.
RIGHT MUMBLED CROWLEY SUDDENLY FEELING VERY ALONE.
OW.
DOG IS THE BEST THE CUTEST EVER. EVEN WHEN HE WAS BIG AND HELLHOUNDY. HIS CONFUSION AT TURNING SMALL BUT THEN IT BEING OVERRIDDEN BY HIS LOVE FOR ADAM. IT JUST. AWWWWW.
Anathema carries a foot-long bread knife with her. Queen shit.
THE FACT THAT THEY GOT SHOT BY PAINTBALLS AND IMMEDIATELY CROWLEY THINKS HE'S DEAD AND STARTS WORRYING ABOUT PAPERWORK. ALL THAT CLUES HIM IN IS THAT THE BLOOD IS YELLOW. AND THEN HE TASTES IT TO CHECK IF IT'S PAINT WTF CROWLEY.
Warlock's birthday party omg. Aziraphale looking at Crowley desperately for help and Crowley pointedly refusing to meet his gaze because he's cringing from second-hand embarrassment and staring out of the window. I read that bit when I got out of the X-ray for Tommy and it made me smile on a very shit day.
Right mumbled Crowley suddenly feeling very alone.
Okay but ngl Crowley was entirely right? He turned the paintball guns to real guns, but the humans continued to shoot each other even after they realised the switch. Not his fault.
Oh Lord, heal this bike. So it was from the book, too.
Aziraphale being like let's get the fuck outta here before the police come coz I'll morally have to assist them with enquiries is so babygirl of him for real. You little bastard, you.
"A CAR BELONGING TO TWO CONSENTING REPAIRMEN" ah yes "THOSE TWO GAY RANDOS IN THE BENTLEY ARE DEFINITELY HAVING SEX"
I love Aziraphale. Crowley makes a man faint from fear and Aziraphale isn't all that pissed because he's salty about the man ruining his expensive shirt. Oh, Aziraphale.
So attracted to War in an awful way. It makes so much sense how attractive in an awful way she is.
Pouring one out for Mr and Mrs Threlfall of 9, The Elms, Paignton.
"Right," mumbled Crowley, suddenly feeling very alone.
Slightly desperate italics is a phrase I didn't know I needed in my life but during my inevitable next war with fucking typefaces, I will definitely use. Fuck I had design work to do for my mum. AH WELL, CROWLEY, CROWLEY, CROWLEY.
In response to watch out for that pedestrian, Crowley says It's on the street, it knows the risks it's taking! Crowley supports it/its pronouns, pass it on.
Where do you live my dear? Aziraphale oozed. OOZED. OMG.
RIGHT, CROWLEY MUMBLED, SUDDENLY FEELING VERY ALONE.
Everyday, my-homoerotic-tension-and-love-hate-relationship-with-my-copy-of-this-book's a-getting stronger... WHY MUST THAT LINE HURT ME SO MUCH.
#good omens mascot#weirdly specific but ok#asmi#maggots#good omens#good omens fandom#crowley#aziraphale#neil gaiman#terry pratchett#lgbtqia#good omens book#good omens brainrot#the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter
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