#its almost 1am and i got work in the morning but i am determined to finish this
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im cooking again, hangster fans
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⤑ made-up love song i.
Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher living with your best friend, and have never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.
Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…
pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, not really much to warn in this first chapter, there’s some flirting, oc doesn’t want to admit she finds seokjin dishy, she’s possibly in denial that there’s a spark there, jimin and soobin appear 🥰 words; 11,028
↪︎ chapter index
chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)
You hated being late. Not only did you pride yourself on your impeccable time management but sleeping through your alarm always threw you out of whack for the rest of the day. You blamed the annual student reports that had to be written. No matter how organised you were, every year they seemed to sneak up on you and disrupt your prompt 11pm bedtime. You’d been still awake past 1am last night, determined to give each student the report they deserved. The yearly parent-teacher meetings were tomorrow (Friday) and Monday evening; it was officially the end of the school year countdown, which was ironically the most difficult time of the year.
No wonder your stress levels were so high lately. You felt like a ticking timebomb, wondering what on earth would set you off – because it was inevitable. This morning it could have been a number of things… Your inability to awake when your alarm went off, the fact your clothes were still slightly damp from insufficient drying time, your forgotten lunch still at home in the refrigerator, or now, your current predicament – you couldn’t find a space to park your car.
You always got to work an hour early, that way you had enough time to get ready for the school day before the student’s turned up and the teacher’s parking lot was empty. You had your pick of spaces. Today however, with just fifteen minutes to spare before class began, you didn’t have much choice. The spot that required you to reverse in between two cars, or the one that was secluded but came with a price – the sun’s hotspot.
You were stopped idly between the two, mentally making you decision while also damning this day to hell, when suddenly there was a thud and you jerked forwards, a gasp escaping your fallen mouth. Your hands had unconsciously clenched around the steering wheel so you ever so slowly eased up, straightening your back as you caught a look in the rear-view mirror.
“Oh, my god.” You breathed quietly, reaction time delayed greatly. Shock probably.
You watched as a black car – twice the size of yours and almost blindingly shiny – pulled away from the side of your vehicle, back into the space they’d just reversed out of. They’d hit you. You’d been hit. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t even 8am.
There was a clunk of a car door and then a man in a suit came hurrying into view, as fast as he could manage, a look of pure horror on his face. Still on autopilot, you felt your hand reach for the handle of your door, pushing it open to find yourself getting out.
“Are you okay?” The well-dressed man asked, panic evident in his voice. The very well-dressed man. His suit was a three-piece, black and white houndstooth. It looked expensive. Which just seemed to piss you off for some unexplainable reason.
You were fine of course, dazed maybe, the blow hadn’t been that serious at all, but that was besides the point. This man, in his very obnoxious suit (even if it did hug his body in extremely cruel ways) had not been concentrating. He’d reversed straight into your poor little car that was no match for his hefty thing. Your shock was shifting. In its place grew anger.
When you didn’t reply, than man carried on. “I am so sorry, Miss.” An annoying shrill sounded between you both. The cell phone in his hand. He ignored it – or at least tried to. “I really am. I was–”
He stopped abruptly midsentence, letting out a huff. Whoever was calling him wasn’t relenting. He picked up, talking quickly, an air of authority to his voice that caught your attention. “Kim Seokjin, speaking. Please can I – I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to call you back. There’s been an emergency.” A pause as the person on the other end of the line spoke. They weren’t given much time. “Thank you for understanding. Goodbye.”
The man – Kim Seokjin apparently – hung up, attention immediately back on you. “I’m just so sorry. Is there any damage?” He made his way over to the place he’d hit, just above your back wheel, crouching down, and grimaced. “Oh god.”
You followed, coming face to face with the black scratches that now marred the white paint of your vehicle. It wasn’t so bad, he hadn’t sped out of the space, but something had definitely scraped the steel, and again, that was beside the point. He’d still reversed into your car.
“The bike rack,” he muttered to himself. Your answer. He looked across at his car, brushing a hand through his hair. It stayed perfectly in place, pushed back above his forehead. He was a striking man, you’d give him that. Features made up of, what you could only describe as soft angles. Actually, thinking about it, he was pretty intimidatingly beautiful. That just made you angrier. How dare this stranger unnerve you with his good looks.
“What happened?” You asked hotly.
He looked up at you, taken back by your tone, but composed himself fairly quickly. “I-I was distracted for a moment, I didn’t realise–”
“Were you on your phone?”
“I’m sorry?” You looked down at the device still in his hand. On cue it started ringing again. He hit ignore straight away. “No, no. God, no.” He protested, shoving the phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He straightened up, head and shoulders above you. You crossed your arms and waited for his explanation, straining as tall as you could get. His cologne smelt amazing, you tried to ignore it.
“I was – I was trying to get the handsfree to work in this damn car and last time I checked there was no one there.” He seemed flustered. A far cry from the authoritative figure he’d been on the phone call. “I wasn’t thinking, I just backed out –” He stopped, as if he suddenly realised something. “Why… Why were you on stop directly behind me?”
“Excuse me?” You instantly got defensive, hands waving about animatedly as you explained “I wasn’t stopped, I was trying to find a space.”
You hadn’t been aware there was someone occupying the vehicle. No one left the staff parking lot in the morning so there was never any worry about somebody reversing into you. This was all on him. He wasn’t going to try and turn it around on you.
“I’m sorry, but do you even work here?” This school was small, he definitely wasn’t a teacher here, and you doubted he was a substitute. He was too well-dressed for a start. Who the hell was he?!
He looked momentarily confused. “Work here? No.”
“Then why are you using the teacher’s parking lot?” Your arms were folded across your chest again.
His eyes widened in horror, realisation setting in. “Oh no. I didn’t realise...”
“It’s signposted.” His mistake seemed genuine, but that really wouldn’t cut it. Because of his mistake your car was now scratched. You’d have to contact your insurance company and god only knows if they would pay out seeing as the damage was really only cosmetic, and if they did, it would probably take an age.
“It’s my first time dropping off my daughter at this school. I didn’t know where to go, and I was getting so many phone calls, I was just trying to…” He petered out, realising you probably didn’t care about his morning. So what? He was having a shitty one? So were you!
“There’s no excuses for this.” He lowered his head in apology. “I’m truly sorry and I feel awful.”
You found yourself softening. He did sound extremely genuine. You opened your mouth to reply, to accept his apology, but he spoke up again. “Let me sort this out. Money is no object. I can call my mechanic straight away and–”
“There’s no need,” you told him immediately, horror stricken.
“It’s really no problem.” He insisted. “Come on, if we wait for our insurance companies to sort this out god knows how long it will take. No, I’ll phone the mechanic I use right now and they can come and pick your vehicle up. It’ll be fixed in no time. You won’t have to pay a thing.”
“No, thank you.” Your anger was growing again. Irritation itching your face. Who did this man think he was? Money didn’t solve everything. Most people didn’t have that luxury.
“No?”
His bewilderment made you see red. “I don’t need your help or your money.”
You could be very stubborn when you wanted to be. You’d been told so throughout your life; family, friends, exes… No, you’d just pay for the repairs yourself. You’d rather wake up late for an eternity than take his money.
“But I did this.”
He really wasn’t getting it. “It’s fine, just –” You were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone again. “You’re obviously very busy, just forget about it. It’s a few scratches.” You turned your back to him, glancing at your watch. You had just under two minutes to decide on a parking space and get to your classroom.
“Wait,” he called out.
“Goodbye,” you called back, rounding the front of your car to dive back into the driver’s seat.
“But – Argh!” You heard him let out a yell, his phone still shrilling loudly. He sounded frustrated when he answered. “Soobin, what is it?! Yes, I already told him I’m – What? He said they were…”
He became inaudible as you slammed your door shut, using his distraction to drive off – straight into the easiest parking spot available… You guessed your poor car would have to turn into a damn sauna for today.
.
.
After the morning you had you were thrown all out of whack. All day you didn’t know whether you were coming or going, your students seeming more hyper than usual and by 3pm you were ecstatic to see them leave. Your head was throbbing by the time half 4 rolled around, the final touches to your student reports complete at least. Not long after you trudged in the direction of your boiling hot car, stomach still queasy from the canteen slop you’d been forced to eat today and stress levels now barely manageable. Only one more day until the weekend, yet now you’d be forced to deal with finding an affordable mechanic with your free time.
You were still in disbelief over today’s events. That frustratingly handsome stranger with the concentration levels of a two year old and more money than sense. You scoffed to yourself, how dare he try to flaunt his wealth around like that. What had his name been again? He’d said on the phone… You couldn’t remember, your temper had been too distracting…
Whelp. You were having second thoughts… Maybe you’d been too harsh earlier… You hadn’t been overly rude at all, but you had been quite curt. He did seem genuinely sorry after all, and maybe you’d misjudged what you guessed was an act of kindness. After all, you had been on stop behind him, and while he should’ve double checked before backing out, it wasn’t all on him. You were both to blame. You felt guilty for not thanking him for his apology. For your preconceived opinions on him. You didn’t even know the man and there you were making judgements –
You stopped dead in your tracks as you got closer to where your car was parked, thoughts immediately interrupted. “What the –?”
Stopped in front of it was small towing vehicle, Park Esteem written along the side in bold orange font. A man rounded the corner of the truck, a clipboard in his hand as he looked around, presumably for the owner of the car he seemed so eager to tow. You. He was looking for you.
You jumped to action, breaking into a run. “Excuse me, Excuse me!” The guy with the clipboard looked up at the sound of your strained voice calling out. It was shrill as you came to a halt right in front of him, demanding an explanation. “What are you doing? Why are you towing my car?!”
“You’re the owner of this vehicle, Miss?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed in disbelief. “What’s the problem?”
He looked down at his notes, visibly confused by your reaction it seemed. “Uh, Mr. Kim has requested I pick up your vehicle and take it to be fixed for the damage he caused?”
Mr. Kim?! Who the hell was – wait. Kim Seokjin. His name came back to you instantly. He’d gone behind your back after you explicitly said you didn’t want or need his help. How dare he. And there you’d been feeling guilty for the way you’d treated him not two minutes previous.
“He said to be here at 4pm as you should be finishing work around then…” The mechanic carried on, voice softening, as if he was about to bear bad news. “I’ve been here for thirty minutes, Miss. I’m afraid I’ll have to bill him for that separately. Time is money after all.”
You checked your watch on autopilot. It was coming up to twenty to five. Shaking out of it, you straightened your shoulders, back to fighting mode for the second time today. “You can’t just take my car without my permission.”
The man grimaced slightly. “Well see, he’s already paid for the towage, and Mr. Kim is a very valuable and trustworthy customer.”
“Trustworthy?” You scoffed. “He’s stealing my car! I’m sorry but no, I refuse this…” You paused to think. “This service.” This was so absurd. Not only had this Mr. Kim totally disregarded your wishes, the towing of your car was incredibly over the top. The damage was cosmetic, everything was in fine working order. It didn’t need to be helped to the workshop. The thought of something so dramatic was infuriating.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Miss. Mr. Kim already paid for the towage upfront so I can’t actually do anything about it now…”
You stared at the man, telling yourself to take deep breaths. It wasn’t his fault. He was just doing his job. “So I have to let you take my car?”
He gave you a gentle smile. “I’m afraid so…unless…” He hesitated. “Unless you pay for the reversal…”
“And how much is this reversal?” Your arms were crossed for what felt like the hundredth time today.
You nearly keeled over when you were told the price. Damn that arrogant handsome man. Damn him straight to hell. Kim Seokjin, you would never forget that name now. What a complete and utter d–
“I’m sorry for the confusion, Miss. I was under the impression you knew Mr. Kim.” The mechanic apologised.
You found yourself softening. He had a gentle voice. A gentle face too. It was that conceited so-and-so you were mad at. You were glad you’d left the classroom late today, not many cars left in the parking lot which meant less chance of a co-worker seeing this embarrassment.
“So, I’m going to need to take your details now.” He continued, holding his clipboard out, sounding hopeful that you’d calmed down. “Just so I can arrange drop off at your address tomorrow.” You nodded slowly, watching him stretch out a hand. “I’m Jimin, by the way. Park Jimin from Park Esteem Car Services.”
You shook it, introducing yourself automatically. “I’m Y/N.”
He gave you a dazzling smile. “Lovely name. How do you spell that?”
Ten minutes later your poor car was hooked up to Jimin’s truck, ready to go, just as a sleek black car with tinted windows pulled up alongside you. Out rushed a tall young man. He looked a little frazzled as he straightened out his suit jacket but smiled your way. “Hello, are you the owner of this vehicle?”
“Yes,” you replied rather woodenly. What fresh hell?
He smiled wider, outstretching his hand. “Hi, lovely to meet you. I’m Mr. Kim’s personal assistant, Mr. Choi, but you can call me Soobin.”
You completed your second handshake of the day – two too many and introduced yourself too. Inside you had a million and one questions. It began with ‘Why was his personal assistant here?’ and ended with ‘When would this day finally be over?’
“I’m so sorry I’m late.” The young man – Soobin – apologised. “Things have been incredibly hectic at the office today. I’m so glad you’re still here.”
Jimin appeared by the side of you then. “Hi, you work for Mr. Kim?” Soobin nodded, tilting his head in curiosity. “Well, there have been a few misunderstandings this afternoon. Mr. Kim said he knew the client but she really has no idea who he is. Other than he was the one who hit her car.”
Soobin grew flustered, bumbling over his words. “Oh, well, um…”
“It’s fine,” you shook you head, not wanting to put the poor boy in an awkward position. This Mr. Kim seemed to like passing the buck onto innocent people.
Jimin nodded. “Maybe just let your boss know that next time he should probably inform the person whose car he’s having towed…”
Soobin laughed then, making light of an awkward situation even if it was forced. “Sure, sure.”
“Okay, well, nice meeting you,” Jimin turned to you. “I’ll have this done by tomorrow, shouldn’t take too long, there’s not much damage at all.” You had the sudden urge to apologise for wasting his time but you stayed quiet. “You said you’ll be home by 7pm?” You nodded. “Great. Someone will drop it off shortly after that.” He tapped the side of his truck and smiled. “Have a lovely rest of your day, Y/N.”
“Thank you, and you.” You waved him off – waved your car off too as Jimin started to drive and it disappeared into the distance, then you turned your attention back to Soobin. What was he doing here?
On cue, he began to explain. “So, Mr. Kim is giving you a temporary loan of one of his cars for the time being, as apology and, well, a gesture of good faith. He really is awfully sorry about this morning.” There was silence as you made sense of his words. “The tank is full, no need for any expense on your side.”
You forced yourself to speak. “Wait, hang on, he’s loaning me his car?”
“One of them, yes,” Soobin smiled. One of them. How many did this man have? “He really doesn’t use this one, so don’t feel like you’re an inconvenience, it’s really no bother at all.” He pulled the key fob out of his pocket and handed it to you with a kind but awkward smile. “Here.”
“So… I’m just riding his car home?” You’d told Jimin you’d call your best friend to pick you up when he’d offered you a ride home. You could still very well do that, but refusing this young man just seemed plain mean. After all, he had driven here despite a busy schedule. You didn’t want to waste his time. Poor boy was just doing what he was told, this Mr. Kim’s dogsbody.
“Yes,” Soobin nodded, looking a little confused now. As if he was wondering why you weren’t understanding what he was saying. “Oh, wait,” he suddenly remembered, pulling a piece of paper (cream wove) out of his breast pocket. “Here’s a contact number for him to arrange the pick-up of the vehicle tomorrow evening. It might be me, but it depends on my schedule.”
“Okay,” you mumbled, still a little dazed, looking down at the number. You folded the paper and dropped it into your purse, suddenly realising something. “Wait, how are you getting home?”
“Hm?” He wasn’t expecting that question. “Oh, subway probably.”
You anger flared once again. “So this Mr. Kim instructs you to ride one of his cars to my place of work, loan it to me and then expects you to just walk to the subway station?”
Soobin blinked slowly a couple of times, hearing the attitude in your voice. “Well, when you say it like that you make it seem…bad. Your tone...” He shrugged and then gave a small laugh that wrinkled his nose. “I’m happy to walk, you know, exercise, get that blood pumping…” He finished with a few nimble stretches just to emphasise, before looking comically aghast. “Sorry. Ignore my unprofessionalism.”
You jerked your head towards the car. “Get in.”
His mouth hung open in confusion. “What?”
“I’ll give you a ride home. Do you live far?”
“Not too far, Miss.”
He waited for you to get into the driver’s seat and then followed quickly, getting in beside you. He couldn’t have wanted to walk that much then... “Call me Y/N.” You told him with a kind smile. “I don’t like all this professionalism. Besides, I get called Miss all day, every day. It gets tiring after a while.”
He nodded dutifully in reply, back straight.
.
.
You were on pins driving all the way home, eager to drop Soobin home so you could let go of your composure. This car was way too nice for you. Why did this stranger trust you with it?! His car. He didn’t know you. You could be the worst driver in the world for all he knew. You weren’t, but you could be.
After you’d pulled up in your driveway you stayed there for a few minutes, needing some silence, just to calm yourself down, because you knew soon enough you’d get bombarded with questions. Sooner than you thought actually, because there was your front door ripping open, your best friend and roomie, Soojung, rushing out. “What is going on?” She demanded as you pushed the car door open. “Taken up car theft in your spare time?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sighed, already trudging to the house.
She followed behind closely. “Um, you’re talking about it alright. You can’t just park up in a car worth more than both our salaries a year and expect me to not bat an eyelid.”
You scoffed at her dramatics, hanging your purse over the coat rack. “It’s not worth that much.”
“Y/N, I mean this with the least possible offence, but you know absolutely jack shit about cars.” You had no time for a comeback. “Now tell me where the hell did you get that car?!”
After the third degree from Soojung for over an hour, you managed to shut her up with an in depth description of your car thief (as you were now calling him), which included in no particular order: what he looked like, his estimated age, his outfit and how rich you thought he was. You insisted you were in no way bothered by any of these factors and you were only humouring her for some much needed peace and quiet. She spent the next ten minutes begging you to call him and put him on loudspeaker so she could hear his voice, but you outright refused. You were not calling him tonight, you couldn’t trust yourself not to raise your voice. It could wait for tomorrow, when your first round of parent-teacher meetings were over and you had your own car back in your driveway. Mr. Kim could wait for his, it was the least he could do after all the trouble he’d caused today. You bet he had another six cars anyway – one for each day of the week.
Soojung made you both a late dinner and not long after that you crawled your way to bed, exhausted and not at all mentally ready for tomorrow. You did wake up ten minutes before your alarm though, which you chose to take as a good sign, remembered your lunch too, and you hated to admit it, but your loaned vehicle drove like a dream once you weren’t so scared of accidentally careening it off a cliff, or something equally as impossible.
You day actually went by without a hitch. All the children were well-behaved, much more subdued than yesterday, but maybe that was because your stress levels had rapidly decreased with the positive signs from this morning. They had raised a little when Mrs. Jeon from third grade had enquired about the new car she’d seen you driving into school, but after giving her a very much condensed version of yesterday’s events you both had a little laugh together, where she then proceeded to joke around and tell you that you shouldn’t give the car back… or at least you thought she was joking… However, other than that, the school day breezed by.
Better yet, all the parents scheduled for meetings today were on time, and despite the rush end of year reports brought, you genuinely did love the opportunity to talk with your students’ parents one on one. You’d been teaching the first grade at the same school for over seven years now and despite the ups and downs being a teacher brought, it really was the most rewarding and fulfilling job. Especially at a school like this. This place was like a home to you, all you had ever known, and your students meant the world to you. Each and every one. Class sizes were always small at Primrose Hill, and that always made your connection with the kids even greater.
There was always a sadness in your heart when May rolled around, the school year nearly over and you had to get ready to bid goodbye to the children who’d been a part of your life for over nine months. Of course, come September you would greet a new class of students once again, but it was always so bittersweet…
It was just gone half past six now and you were waiting on the last parent of the evening. 5/6 parents on time was still a success. Hopefully Monday you would see full marks. You were waiting on the father of your newest student, Kim Arin. She’d only been with you two months, and it was very unusual that a child joined you so late into the year. You didn’t know all the details, but it seemed that her parents were divorced and she’d recently moved to live with her dad. You liked Arin, she was a sweet little girl, quite timid at times, especially in the beginning, but that was to be expected of course. It was always nerve-wracking to start a new school. She’d gradually come out of her shell, made friends and she was incredibly gifted in storytelling for such a young age. In a few years, if she kept it up, who knew what she’d be creating. You couldn’t wait to tell her father that. You’d grown very fond of her very quickly and you would definitely miss her come September.
“Come in,” you called, a knock on your classroom door breaking you from your thoughts. Your back was to the entryway, preoccupied with collecting Arin’s report and classwork on your desk, so you didn’t see who entered, although presumably it was her father.
“Oh, hello again.”
You froze at the sound of the voice. That voice. Why was it so familiar? Why did it get your hackles up? As if you needed to prepare for a fight– Oh.
You turned abruptly, eyes wide as you came face to face with the car thief. What on earth was he doing here? Had he come to collect his car?! Maybe you should’ve rung him last night, but it seemed a little unbelievable that he was chasing this up so keenly. You weren’t the thief in question. He was. How insane was it to track you down like this. Who had given him your name? Who had told him what class you would be in? Surely it was forbidden?
“If this is about the car business, we’ll have to sort it out later on, I’m expecting a parent of a student any minute now.” Straightening your back you held eye contact. He was very amused, eyes twinkling as he smiled at you, cheeks rounded. It made you feel slightly unnerved, but by damn had you forgotten how infuriatingly handsome that face of his was. Jerk.
He held up his hand slightly and laughed. “I’m the parent in question.”
“What?”
You stood there limply like an idiot, blinking slowly as you tried to mentally put the pieces together. Kim Arin. Mr. Kim. Kim Seokjin, the arrogant, money can solve everything so-and-so was Arin’s father? Great. Absolutely gr–
“You’re Miss. Y/L/N?”
“You’re Arin’s father?” It was obvious by now, but maybe there was that 0.001% chance he’d gotten the wrong classroom. Maybe.
“Such a small world,” he grinned, all hope lost. He held out his hand for you to shake. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”
There was a teasing to his tone, it got you pissed again, but you had to take it. You were in a professional setting now, you were his daughter’s teacher. His hand was warm, soft, grip gentle. Maybe you squeezed too hard, maybe he didn’t notice. “Please take a seat, I won’t be a minute.”
Your tone was clipped, unable to sound at all breezy like you had with the other parents, and you turned back to your desk, rifling through more papers even though you had everything you needed. In all honesty, you just needed some thinking time. Get through this twenty minute meeting, you told yourself. Pretend like he wasn’t the man who hit your car and then got it towed a few hours later. You could do it.
You felt him take the seat behind you, amusement still strong as he asked you a question. “So, are we just going to pretend yesterday didn’t happen?”
You collected Arin’s work and rounded your desk, taking a seat directly in front of him, careful to keep your expression neutral. “Right now’s not the time to discuss personal matters. Let’s just wait until this is over.” Twenty minutes and then he’d have it. He wouldn’t be smirking then.
Although surprisingly, immediately after you said that he grew serious, nodding his head in agreement. “Of course. My apologies. Sorry I was late, by the way, I couldn’t escape the office.”
Taken back by his sudden change in demeanour you shook your head. “It’s fine.” You weren’t expecting it to be so easy, but he listened.
“So,” he prompted when you didn’t follow up with anything. “Should we get started?”
You jolted, unaware you’d been lost in thought and silently cursed yourself. He was going to think an idiot was in charge of teaching his daughter. Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, you needed to snap out of it. He was here to talk about Arin and as her teacher you had plenty to say.
Seokjin was highly focused throughout the whole meeting, taking on bored everything you had to say with earnest. He wanted to know how his daughter was getting on at her new school and was interested in all the work she had completed in the short amount of time she’d been here. He didn’t have to, but he gave you a small explanation about why she’d had to switch schools so late into the year, and even though you already knew it was because she’d moved to live with him, you stayed silent, letting him carry on. He sounded so genuine, so worried about what the move could’ve done to Arin’s education and mental health that it ended up touching you. It was visibly obvious how much he loved and cared for his daughter and that was refreshing to see. A lot of the time it was the mothers who attended these parent-teaching meetings, you rarely had the chance to speak to the dads, so you did relish in this opportunity, discussing Arin’s talent in creative writing in depth, showing Seokjin the collection of short stories she’d written, and giving him tips when he asked on ways she could improve.
That would come with age, you said, but there was one small thing she may want to stop now rather than later. Her most recent story, a beautiful and creative fantasy piece that she unfortunately ended with the ‘it was all a dream’ trope.
“What’s wrong with that?” Seokjin asked. You instantly sensed that his defensive was up. It made you smile as you gave a slight shrug.
“Nothing per se, it can just be a little cliché. There’s much better ways to end a story.”
“Sure, but she’s only 6. It can’t be that serious?”
Your smile grew. “I understand that, Mr. Kim. Like I said, Arin is truly gifted for her age, it was just a pointer that you asked for.” You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, but he seemed thoroughly into this discussion now.
He tilted his head in thought. “What if it was the legitimate ending of a story? There’s obviously famous novels with such conclusions.”
Amused, you mimicked him. “For instance?”
“Hm?”
That caught him off guard. “What novels? Name me some.”
His eyes grew comically wide at your request, and just as you suspected, he couldn’t answer. He chuckled, looking a little embarrassed. Was that a little colour on his cheeks? “You’ve put me on the spot.”
You were both so engrossed discussing Arin that the time seemed to fly by. It was near to 7pm by the time you wrapped things up, and you’d enjoyed yourself so much you almost forgot you’d made a deal with yourself to start chewing Seokjin out the moment it was all over. He ever so kindly reminded you.
“You know, I was expecting a very angry phone call last night. I was quite surprised when it never came.”
Both of you were now stood up, your desk still between you. Seokjin held copies of Arin’s stories that you’d given him to read over in his free time and you with nothing to fiddle with, folded your arms across your chest. Ah, here we go again. The playful lilt to his voice back from earlier, that infuriating smirk too.
He was dressed in a much less flashy suit today. A simple slate grey two piece, his dark hair styled against his forehead, the smallest peek of forehead visible. It made him appear younger – not that he looked old anyway. Your guessing was mid 30s maybe, but this hairstyle made him appear softer. The faintest of lines around his eyes provided the slightest of giveaways, but then again, you only noticed them because you were searching for any clue to his age. His hair was still thick and dark and it definitely didn’t look like he dyed it. His body was… hm, he was built well. He certainly seemed to look after it. Not that you were looking, of course.
You could definitely see the resemblance between him and Arin. Their eyes were the same almond shape, both deep brown in colour, and while their noses were slightly different, Arin’s cheeks obviously rounder, their plump lips were uncanny.
Despite very much in thought, you kept your expression unreadable, nose in the air as you replied. “Perhaps I was too mad for words.”
He raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. If they were natural, life was incredibly unfair. “And now?”
“It would be unprofessional of me to start yelling at my place of work.”
“You want to yell at me?” His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. It was obvious he was holding it in.
You were glad he found this funny because you didn’t. No matter how much he’d impressed you as a father it still didn’t change yesterday. “You had no right just stealing my car like that.”
He scoffed. “It was hardly stealing. Who steals a car to pay for the damage he caused?”
“I didn’t want you to pay!”
He still looked baffled by your stubbornness. “That’s just absurd.”
“You’re calling me absurd?”
He sighed. “Of course not.” He was getting flustered now, similar to yesterday. It was funny to watch. “I just…” He trailed off, catching the grin on your face. “You’re enjoying this.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I love a complete stranger backing out into my car to then subsequently steal it from right under my nose.”
He eyed you hesitantly. You knew he couldn’t tell if you were joking around or not. Your words and posture said no, but your eyes and lips gave it away eventually. “We’re still on this stealing business?” He paused, lips quirking. “Besides, I’m not a stranger. I’m your favourite student’s father.”
You laughed in disbelief. This man was so full of himself. “I’m a teacher, I don’t do favouritism.”
“Oh?” He seemed sceptical.
You shook your head, he really was unbelievable, but you couldn’t stop the smile that creeped its way to your mouth. “If that’s all, Mr. Kim.” You pointed to the door. It was getting late now, your car should be getting dropped off soon too.
He chuckled as he started to make his exit, you following closely behind. When he stopped abruptly, turning back, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You could notice the beginnings of stubble growing above his top lip, a sure sign you were in too close a proximity.
“She likes you a lot.” He murmured, serious once again. You wished he’d stop doing that. Was he an obnoxious rich jerk, or a caring, hardworking father? You would have gone with the former right before this meeting, now you had no clue. Maybe you’d gotten him all wrong. That would teach you for judging a book by its cover…
“Arin,” he added, as if it wasn’t obvious. “She’s always speaking about you when I ask how her day went. You’re her favourite ever teacher.” He grinned then, laughing, amused by himself.
You groaned. “Stop trying to guilt me.” He laughed harder, throwing his head back. Was all that true? Arin talked about you? You were her favourite teacher? Or was he just making it up for reaction? You didn’t ask.
“Although, I will say it’s nice to put a face to the name now.” Maybe you didn’t need to ask. “Just wasn’t expecting it to be the woman whose car I drove into yesterday morning…”
No, neither were you.
“I really am sorry about that.”
He sounded nothing but sincere, you couldn’t not accept his apology, despite being still annoyed by what he had done afterwards. “You keep saying.” You gave an accepting sweep of your hand. “Let’s just forget about it, accidents happen, right?”
“Right.” He gave a quick nod of his head, followed by a shrug. “…aand I guess you were parked behind me so…”
You opened your mouth to refute such a claim but his laughter was so loud, so unlike his outer appearance, if that made any sense, (all high-pitched and squeaky almost), you were dazed for a moment, couldn’t help but join him – quietly so, but it was something. This man obviously thought he was hilarious.
He opened the door, hand resting on the handle as he spoke again. At this rate the janitor would appear for his shift and you’d still be here talking to Seokjin. “Listen, I can’t find anyone to pick up my car tonight so how about tomorrow? Is that okay for you? You can give me a call in the morning and we’ll arrange a time suitable.”
Oh yes, you’d forgotten all about that. Too distracted. By what? Him? “It’s fine. I can drop it off myself tomorrow.”
He raised that perfect eyebrow again. “You can?”
You gave him an affirmative hum. Why was that so surprising to him?
“How will you get home?”
Shoot. “Subway,” you thought quickly.
“Are you sure?” He looked even more surprised, was about to suggest something else it seemed, until you spoke again.
“Saves that kid wasting his weekend.”
“Kid?”
“Soobin.” No doubt he’d be the one to pick the vehicle up, being Seokjin’s personal assistant after all. You needed one of those. They could mark the children’s homework and plan your lessons…
“Oh. He really wouldn’t mind,” Seokjin reassured.
“Really?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Both of them actually, but they weren’t as devastatingly shaped as his. That reminded you, you needed to get them threaded again soon. “Poor boy was about to trek to the station yesterday before I offered him a ride.”
“You took him home? He didn’t tell me that.” Seokjin sounded surprised.
“I wasn’t going to let him walk after he went to all that trouble for me.”
He nodded in understanding. “You’re very kind.”
You felt a little panicky, unable to read his reaction very well. “He won’t get into trouble?” You couldn’t see why he would, but you never know.
“No,” Seokjin laughed. “Is that what you think of me?”
You shook your head. “Of course not, I was just…” You stopped, unsure what to say.
“I wonder what you do think of me,” he pondered, voice low, lips curled.
“I don’t think it really matters what I think of you.” You replied cryptically.
He liked that, chuckling softly. “Can’t a guy be curious?” You remained tight lipped. “My employees love working for me, for your information.” He added. Maybe as damage control, who knew.
You rolled your eyes for the second time this evening. “You’re very full of yourself, Mr. Kim.”
“Please, call me Seokjin,” he requested.
You nodded, but you still didn’t think you were at that type of pleasantry yet. You could think of him as Seokjin but to say it aloud felt wrong almost, you didn’t know him. Thinking about it, it wouldn’t really matter come tomorrow anyway.
You watched him pull out a small notebook and an expensive looking pen from his inner jacket pocket, holding the copies of Arin’s stories under his arm as he used the door for support to write his address down for you. Ripping out the page perfectly, he passed it to you with a smile. “Drop the car off around 3pm. I should be long done at the office by then.”
He was working on the weekend? He certainly was a busy man. Who looked after Arin while he wasn’t there? These curiosities you had couldn’t very well be asked, not unless you wanted to appear nosey and overstep the mark…
“Okay,” you replied. “Then we arrange repayment.”
“Repayment?” He looked bewildered. “You’re not paying me back.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.” His tone was stern. You could be sterner, you were sure of it.
“I am.” You insisted, staring him down. “The mechanic informed me yesterday that you’d be charged separately because he had to wait an extra half hour.”
“Oh, that.” He shook a hand. “I knew that might happen because I was uncertain when you finished work. It’s really no bother.”
No bother? Was this man adamant to hear you raise your voice? “I’m paying you back.”
He feigned confusion, teasing you. “I don’t think you are.”
“I – Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” You’d be here arguing until Monday otherwise.
He scoffed. “There’s nothing to sort out.”
You shot him glare. It was a warning. Tomorrow you’d let him have a piece of your mind if he continued to refuse. You didn’t think he took it seriously.
.
.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t just sit here and I say he wasn’t flirting with you.”
“He wasn’t.” You were adamant. Soojung had made you relay your whole conversation with Seokjin as soon as you’d let slip this evening’s revelation. You were regretting it now. You were trapped on this couch forced to listen to her insane claims. There was no way in hell that man had been flirting with you.
“You were definitely flirting back.”
You felt yourself flush, voice raising as you insisted that she was wrong. “As if.” She shot you a look that told you she didn’t believe a word. “He’s rich and arrogant.”
She laughed. “You say rich as if it’s a bad thing.”
It wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t your thing, but if rich made him smug and think he could throw his money around when you’d explicitly stated you didn’t want him too, then yes, it was a bad thing.
“I wonder how loaded he really is…” Soojung thought aloud. “Millionaire status? He didn’t say where he worked?”
“Didn’t come up,” you replied shortly. You were done talking about him now. In your eyes it was nearly over. Your car was back in its rightful place on your driveway and Seokjin’s would soon follow in its rightful place – surrounded by a handful of others. You would never have to see that frustrating man ever again – hopefully.
“Find out tomorrow.”
“I am not finding out tomorrow,” you exclaimed. It wasn’t important. He worked in an office, nothing out of this world amazing. “I’m just going to drop off his car, write out a cheque and be on my merry little way.”
Soojung snorted. “Bitch, you’re going to be repaying him back a dollar a week.” You glared at her but she wasn’t fazed. “There’s no way you can afford it. He probably uses the most expensive mechanic in the city.”
“Shut up.” You didn’t care if you had to use your savings account. He was getting his money back one way or the other. You refused to be indebted to him. You were a little nervous though… “It can’t be that much. He only had to repaint some scratches,” you worried.
Your best friend ignored you, nestling in closer, an overjoyed grin on her face. “Tell me again, is he dishy?”
You sighed – loudly. Why couldn’t she let the topic drop? “I’ve already described him to you, and besides, that’s not the point.”
She wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. “So that’s a yes then. You’re into the Dilf!”
You didn’t bother replying, instead choosing to throw a cushion at her. She was unbelievable. But why did her teasing annoy you so much right now?
Saturday and Sunday’s always allowed you to sleep in, although 8am probably wasn’t what most called late. You liked to make the most of your weekends and today was no different. After breakfast you showered and got ready, putting aside an hour to go over the student reports for Monday instead of wasting your Sunday night instead. You and Soojung had made plans to go out for coffee late morning as it was rare to see her free on a Saturday. She worked hectic and last minute hours as a department store manager, but she’d finally bargained her first full weekend off in months.
Somehow your coffee turned into a little bit of a shopping spree, your credit card violently cursing you, but after the past few days you’d had you couldn’t find it in you to give a damn. You ate a late lunch at a one of your favourite cafés and then sadly, it was time to rush home and drop off Seokjin’s car back to him. You were very much dreading it – happy it would soon be over, don’t get you wrong, it was just the thought was making you all fidgety and nervous. Soojung wasn’t making it any better, she wouldn’t shut up about it, trying her best to get you give his address up. As if. You knew better than that. She’d be straight on her phone, google maps up in an instant.
You said a begrudging goodbye to her half 2, promising you’d call her straight away with all the details once you were done. She was spending the night at her boyfriend Taehyung’s house tonight but that still wouldn’t stop her innate need for gossip. Your phone acted as GPS on the way to Seokjin’s house, having no idea how to use the fancy one in his car. Not that any of it helped. His house seemed impossible to find. It did not take the predicted twenty minutes your phone told you. No, it was near forty by the time you finally found the concealed long road you’d driven past three times that led to it.
You came to a stop outside a pair of intimidatingly large gates and nearly choked when you saw his house. Well, you couldn’t really call it that. It was a mansion. Eight times the size of the house you and Soojung rented together, maybe more. He really was loaded. You just hadn’t realised how loaded until now. You felt a little sick as you spotted the intercom system on the wall, wondering if you could just ditch the car here and run as fast as your legs could carry you. Why had you not just let Seokjin arrange someone to pick it up from your house? Why were you always so stubborn?!
Taking a deep breath you got out of the vehicle and walked over to the intercom, feeling partial relief to find it didn’t have a camera attached. You would absolutely die of shame otherwise, hopelessly unphotogenic and camera shy. Your teacher’s ID card would forever haunt you.
It rang for a few moments before a woman picked up. “Hello, may I ask who it is?”
You weren’t expecting the female voice so you were stumped for a moment, stumbling over your words before you managed to settle on something helpful. “Hi, yes, this is Arin’s teacher, Miss. Y/L/N. I’m here to return the car Mr. Kim loaned me…”
“Hello, love” the woman greeted sweetly. “Drive up to the front of the house. I won’t be a moment.”
“Okay.” You were thankful she hung up first because you let out a shriek when the gates started automatically opening. You dreaded to think if there were security cameras near.
With a delay you got back into the car and started it up again, thoughts a little preoccupied now that it wasn’t Seokjin who’d picked up. You’d taken it he lived alone, not that he’d told you that. Maybe he had a new girlfriend, you were unsure how long he’d been divorced for. Although you didn’t recall Arin mentioning a woman’s name when she talked about her father. Not that you’d like to admit it, but you’d spent a generous portion of time last night while you waited for sleep trying to recall times when Arin had mentioned Seokjin. You didn’t know why, curiosity you guessed.
But anyway, if Seokjin in fact did have a new partner, then you also guessed Soojung’s theory was incorrect. He had not been flirting with you. Which wasn’t a surprise. It had been a long time since a guy had flirted with you… You were probably to blame there, but it didn’t particularly bother you. Your life was busy enough as it was, throw in a man and you’d hit your breaking point.
The woman who’d answered the call was waiting for you outside as you pulled up, older than her voice had made her seem. You stopped the car and got out, greeting her.
“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Arin’s Nanny, Misook.”
Oh. That made sense. You guessed your imagination had run wild with you for a few unexplainable moments. You felt almost embarrassed as you stood there awkwardly. Was she going to take the keys? Could you leave?
“Please come in.” She smiled kindly. “Seokjin won’t be long, he’s just showering, work ran late.”
Come in?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn’t part of the plan. It was drop the keys and run. However, like a fool, you were unable to say no, looking behind you at Seokjin’s vehicle. “Is the car okay here?”
“Of course,” she nodded. “He’ll place it in the garage later. Follow me.” She turned her back and started making her way inside.
You followed with heavy feet, not quite ready for this. Your first three encounters/dealings with Seokjin had been interesting to say the least. How would the fourth go? You felt a little rude entering your way inside his house (mansion) but Misook wouldn’t have invited you inside if it wasn’t okay, right? Maybe Seokjin wanted you here…
“Make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Misook said once you’d taken off your pumps and she’d led you to the room nearest the entryway. The living room? The lounge? The family room? You didn’t know what else to call it, descriptions too basic for this grand home.
Not that the décor and furniture were too elaborate. In fact, everything looked so homely and cosy inside. The couch was definitely leather but the throw draped over it and the cushions out of place made it look lived in. The colour scheme was minimalistic, walls cream, accents mostly teal blue and grey. Seokjin had style, or perhaps he’d hired an interior designer. You suddenly wondered what the rest of his home looked like.
“Do you want anything to drink? Anything to eat? I’m just making Arin a snack.” Misook offered, but you immediately shook your head, not wanting to put her out.
“Oh, no thank you. I ate before I left.”
She nodded and left the room, leaving you to your own devices in a stranger’s house. The stranger who had hit your car and then proceeded to steal it from right under your nose. The stranger who had let you borrow his car and the stranger who was Arin’s dad. The world worked in mysterious ways. Or it was just mere coincidence, whatever.
You perched yourself on the end of the teal love seat nearest the large bay window, fluffing up the cushion behind you to at least look a little comfortable. You looked around the room casually, spotting a hardback book on the coffee table – The Rough Guide to the 100 Best Places on Earth. Did Seokjin like to travel? With a seemingly busy lifestyle and a child it seemed pretty impossible. Maybe he just liked to dream? Maybe he’d travelled in his younger days? Wait, why were you thinking about these things? You looked over to the impressive brick fireplace, the obvious focal point of the room; it was stunning. A chunk of waxed driftwood sat above it, acting as a shelf and in the middle of it was a photo of Arin and Seokjin in a silver frame. Both their faces filled the image, grinning widely and they really did look so alike. You found yourself smiling, jumping a little when you heard your name.
“Miss. Y/L/N!”
You followed the tiny excited voice, finding Arin in the doorway smiling shyly at you. She gave you a little wave.
“Hi, Arin,” you greeted.
That was all she needed to skip inside, sitting on the end of the couch closest to you. “Daddy told me you were coming today.” Well, at least she wasn’t surprised to find you in her living room. “He told me what he did. Silly daddy.”
You let out a polite laugh. “It’s okay, accidents happen, huh?” You couldn’t very well say your daddy was an idiot, could you? “How are you today, Arin?” You asked, changing the subject, finding yourself in teacher mode instantly. “Do you have any plans?”
“I’m okay,” she let out a comical sigh. “Daddy is taking me bowling.”
“That sounds like fun. Why are you sighing?”
“I was supposed to see my mom but she was too busy…” She answered rather dejectedly.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” You tried to think of something to say to reassure that little sad face of hers. “I’m sure she’s just as disappointed.”
Arin gave a little shrug. “She’s always busy.”
In the two months you’d been her teacher you’d never seen her mood like this. Yes, for her first week in class she’d been quiet, but that was because of nerves, today she looked deflated. You found yourself struggling for something to say, which was unlike you, especially with all your training. It was your job to reassure children after all.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”
Your head jerked up at the sound of Seokjin’s voice. There he was in the doorway, smiling your way. There was something different about him. What was it? Oh – his clothing. You noticed eventually. He was dressed incredibly casual today – normal. A beige coloured sweater and dark blue jeans. His hair wasn’t styled, flat to his forehead and still partly wet, his skin flushed from the heat of the shower. You still couldn’t place his age. You were sure he was older than you, but by how much was difficult to say.
“Mr. Kim, hi,” you greeted, standing up for some reason. You still couldn’t bring yourself to call him Seokjin unless it was in your own head.
He walked towards you, in slippers. You didn’t know why but the thought was so bizarre. You were being ridiculous. Of course he wore slippers, why wouldn’t he?
“Daddyyy,” Arin sung, running towards him and hugging his legs. She looked up at him, asking sweetly, “Are we ready to go?”
He chuckled, rubbing her hair. “Soon, sweetie. Go and find Misook in the kitchen so you can have your snack before we leave.”
She looked at him coyly. “Can we have pizza later?”
He laughed again and gave a small shrug. “Sure. As a weekend treat.”
You watched on, not realising there was a smile on you face. They were cute together. You noticed Arin peeking at you, then she looked up at her father again. “Is Miss Y/L/N coming too?”
Seokjin had the brazenness to look across at you, raising his eyebrows expectantly, as if it was your call. Was he insane? Not only was it implausible, it was downright unprofessional. You were Arin’s teacher. Yes, for just a few more weeks, but this interaction was already out of your comfort zone.
“Uh,” you started, feeling awkward. “No, sorry, Arin. I, um, I have plans today.”
You didn’t want to let her down, but luckily she didn’t seem to mind, giving you a roll of her shoulders and a cute smile. “Okay. See on you on Monday, Miss.” And off she skipped, out the door and to where you presumed was the direction of the kitchen.
“Sorry about that,” Seokjin chuckled, stepping closer, as if he hadn’t pretty much invited you himself. What if you’d said yes? He’d have been okay with that?
You felt yourself begin to heat up at the close proximity. You had no idea why he made you feel like this, especially now. You’d handled it so well yesterday, but then again, maybe that was because there’d been a desk separating you. In a professional setting. Right now you were out of your comfort zone, out of your depth. In his home, in his living room, a mere few inches between you both. Why did you find it so intimidating? Why did you find him so intimidating?!
That face… That face with that infuriating smile, and those eyes that seemed to twinkle with amusement, as if there was a joke you weren’t aware of. Multiple jokes. What did he find so funny? Was it you? You felt instantly defensive. He probably used those good looks to unease people, to make them do as he wanted. Not you.
You took a step back, your legs brushing the love seat behind you, and reached for your purse, pulling out your cheque book. “So,” you began, hating the way your voice faintly shook. “Let’s settle. How much do I owe you?”
His smile instantly disappeared as he rolled his eyes slightly. You caught them and it made you want to fight. “You’re still on this.”
“Yes, I am,” you bristled “They washed my car too.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned. “It was part of the service.”
“Just tell me how much I owe you.” You were adamant.
“No.” So was he.
“Mr. Kim.”
“Seokjin,” he corrected, a small smug smile on his face.
“Tell me!”
He brought a hand to his temple, tapping the skin with his fingers as he let out a grunt. “You know what, I can’t seem to remember. It’s been a busy week, memory’s a little fuzzy.” The grin on his face told he was messing with you.
What an exasperating bastard. You didn’t swear often, but he’d just driven you to it. Any more and it was out loud. Maybe your face gave something away because he soon changed his tune, falling serious, like he could so magically do sometimes. “Look, it was my fault, so I paid.”
You wanted to scream. “What if I had an accident in your car? Would I have to pay the damage?”
Instantly he looked worried, those perfect eyebrows furrowing in alarm. “Have you? Are you okay?”
It looked like he was about to reach out a hand to comfort you, and you panicked, rushing into explanation, taken back by his concern. “No, I’m fine. I-I was just being hypothetical.” He looked confused. “By your logic, I would have to pay, right?”
“My logic,” he mused, chuckling softly. “I’m just doing the correct thing. But yes, I suppose you’d have to pay.” He gave a shrug, that annoying smile back on his face. “Good thing there were no accidents then.”
He was probably right. You weren’t that angry to prove a point. You’d probably have to take a lifetime loan to pay the damage off. You felt defeated. What more could you do? Write out a cheque for a guesstimated amount? Imagine the humiliation if you totally undervalued it. No, maybe you should just let it go. Bite your tongue and take this “gift” from a stranger. He had backed out into your car after all, regardless if you were hovering there, he just hadn’t been paying attention. He felt a guilt, a need to repair the damage caused so you’d just let him, even if it went against everything you believed in – your morals. He could obviously afford it and never miss the money.
So you let him win this one, let him walk you to the door before you were late for those important plans that may or may not involve being sat in front of the television all evening watching sitcom reruns on the comedy channel. (He didn’t know that of course.)
“Alice in Wonderland,” he said suddenly, just as you were coming to a halt by the grand wooden door. You turned to see him grinning and looked at him questioningly. What on earth was he on about? “A famous novel that uses that ‘it was all a dream’ trope you hate.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I think someone may have been on google last night.”
He held up his hands. “Guilty as charged.”
You let yourself laugh, genuinely amused. You weren’t so nervy now, as comfortable in his presence as you were going to get. “Goodbye, Mr. Kim.”
He tutted. “If you call me that one more time I’ll be forced to take that cheque from you.”
Really? Interesting… “Mr –
“I take it back,” he interrupted quickly, realising his mistake. “But please, call me Seokjin. I get called too many formalities within the week, I hate it.”
You had to agree with that, you knew that feeling all too well. “Fine,” you gave in. “Goodbye, Seokjin.” There, you’d bitten the bullet. Calling him by his name aloud made you feel funny. “Thank you for… everything.”
He mulled over your gratitude, seemingly satisfied. “I’ll take that.” You ignored him and turned to leave. He stopped you, his hand touching your elbow and warmth spread throughout your body instantly. “Are you really taking the subway home?”
You nodded.
He looked dubious. “The nearest station is quite a walk from here.”
“How far?” Now you were too.
“Let me give you a ride there.” He offered. “I’m taking Arin downtown anyway. Her plans with her mom got changed last minute so I’m trying to cheer her up.” At the mention of his ex-wife his voice became tense, his expression darkening for a moment before he shook himself out of it, a smile back on his face. “So, what do you say?”
“Okay.” You agreed, smiling back. “You can drop me off.” In all honesty, you had no clue where you were going anyway, this part of the city unfamiliar to you. That, and your cell phone had only 20% battery life left after the palaver of trying to get yourself here. Driving you to the station wasn’t going to put him out so it was fine.
“Great. Oh, by the way,” he slipped in, as if he’d suddenly remembered something. Or maybe he was just trying to sound casual. “Are you ever going to tell me your name or do I have to live in mystery for the rest of my life?”
You grew surprised. Of course, he didn’t know your name. You’d never told him. Maybe subconsciously you’d imagined Soobin would’ve relayed that piece of information back to him, or maybe, and most likely, you’d never actually thought about it at all. No wonder you hadn’t realised. You felt almost rude.
“It’s only fair,” Seokjin said, mistaking your silence as indecision. “You know mine, and I can’t keep referring to you as Miss. Y/L/N. It’s a bit strange, don’t you think?”
That was interesting. When was he planning to refer to you again at all? Not that you needed to be persuaded. But you were being polite, that’s what you told yourself. You knew his name so like he’d said, it was only fair. There was no other reason, and of course the idea of him being curious about your name made you feel nothing whatsoever. Okay?
You gave him a quick smile, feeling a little coy for some reason. “It’s Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeated, murmuring it softly as the mystery unveiled itself.
That was dangerous. Hearing the syllables roll from his tongue so gently sent a rush of heat through your body. It settled on your face, tingling, and you prayed it wasn’t visible.
What the hell was wrong with you?!
Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021
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Cuff me (Seungcheol)
Request:
Hello my favorite fic writers 💕💕💕 I’d like to request a Police Officer!Seungcheol fic 😶😶 He’s been overworking and very stressed on a case, comes home really late every night and you’ve been patiently waiting and he can’t thank you enough for always supporting him. Until one evening he’s PARTICULARLY restless so things gets really rough 😏 handcuffs, rough wall sex and aftercare would be really nice 💕
» Smut.
» And because I know who this is from: happy birthday bb, enjoy your officer Cheol and thank you for helping me with it 😘 💕 💕 I hope there’s enough aftercare and everything else omg (I’m up for a re-do,,)
» If you’re using the tumblr app and can’t see the scenario, which is under a “keep reading”, please try opening the post in your phone’s internet browser (or a computer)! 💕
» 7,630 words
Tired from a long day, you had fallen asleep fairly easily, but a few hours into your slumber you were woken up by the constant tossing and turning next to you, the restlessness all too obvious.
“Seungcheol?” you asked, your eyes still shut as you turned to face him, and heard him sigh.
“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” he said apologetically, and you knew he meant it; you also knew what had him so restless, as well as what could possibly help.
“It’s fine,” you whispered and opened your arm so that he could cuddle up to you, which he soon did, getting his arm over your stomach and placing his head on the area between your chest and shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said quietly and gave you a small, soft kiss near your collarbone, and you got your hand into his hair, which you stroked gently until you fell back asleep, easily lulled by the calm breathing coming from Seungcheol.
Dating a police officer, you had known what you were in for. Irregular working hours, him coming home late, occasional injuries and practically constant stress that merely toned down at times… Seungcheol made all kinds of caring and worrying traits arise inside of you, and you were always determined to help him out however you could, both because it would make him feel better and because him feeling better meant that he’d also be more inclined to… well, be good company, in many ways.
Naturally it wasn’t always like that, and there were actually more times when Seungcheol would be less stressed than there were the times where he was as stressed as he was at the moment. Whenever he wasn’t trying to solve a case that seemed near impossible he was an absolute sunshine, and you could only hope a phase like that would come again soon.
At the moment there was a large case that he was trying to solve, and while he couldn’t tell you too many details, if any at all, you could tell it wouldn’t be easy nor quick. His days got longer, the bags under his eyes got darker and all in all he was simply exhausted, from what you could tell. He slept little, ate whenever he remembered to or had time to, and you both knew you had a lot to do with him still being able to function like usual.
You loved him to the moon and back, and enjoyed knowing that you were making things easier for him, which was why you were back up at 5:30 am, making him lunch for the next day. You knew the days were busy and all kinds of rushed for him, so you wanted to make sure he’d at least have something to eat - he’d never dare to bring a full lunch box back home, and you also knew he wouldn’t dare to simply throw it away, either.
A small smile played on your lips as you cooked, quietly humming to your favorite song, the peaceful moment in the early morning only disturbed by the few coughs you could hear coming from your bedroom. Pouting a little, you turned to look there, only to see Seungcheol turn in bed.
“I hope he’s not getting sick…” you whispered to yourself and turned back to the food at hand, yawning when you could finally turn the stove off and place the warm food into the lunch box.
While you allowed it to cool down, you stretched a little and scanned your apartment: Seungcheol had a habit of leaving his clothes anywhere and everywhere when he got home late enough, as he would want straight to bed. Unsurprisingly, you could see his pants on the floor, and smiled to yourself a little when you remembered how he’d simply let them fall to the floor, stepped out of them and unbuttoned his shirt slowly before placing it on the chair in your bedroom before crawling to bed.
You made sure he had a fresh set of clothing waiting for him in the morning, and once you had been able to put the lid on the lunch box and place it in the fridge with a note saying “Lunch is in the fridge, have a good day ♥” attached to the coffee machine that you had also loaded with water and coffee, you got on the couch and fell asleep almost instantly.
When Seungcheol woke up a few hours later and saw you asleep on the couch, he couldn’t help but pout while smiling, his heart feeling warm and full of love. He walked to you and crouched next to the couch.
“Good morning,” he whispered without the intention of waking you up, and caressed your cheek lightly with the backs of his fingers, smiling when you yawned in your sleep. With that, he stood up again and took the warm blanket from the backrest of the couch and tucked you into it carefully, making sure you were warm.
…
That evening, you were determined to surprise Seungcheol, and so you were preparing dinner, if one could call it that, a bit after midnight. You had taken a nap earlier just to be able to function late enough, and so when the door opened a bit after 1am, you were setting the table.
“Y/N?” Seungcheol asked in surprise as he shut the door behind himself and took his shoes and jacket off, which left him in his uniform. You turned to look at him when the table was ready, and walked up to him when he had started walking towards you, too.
Cupping his cheeks, you leaned in to kiss him sweetly, smiling against his lips when you felt his hands on your waist and his lips moving a little against yours, too. As you pulled back, you grinned and looked into his tired eyes. “I prepared some dinner.”
“I thought you’d be sleeping,” Seungcheol said with a small smile making its way to his lips, too, and you felt a sense of ease in your heart when you felt him kiss your forehead, his hand on the back of your head. “You didn’t have to, but I really appreciate it.”
“You can thank me later,” you grinned and led him to the table, and the two of you ate while talking about your days - a fairly rare occasion, and all the more special because of that. He told you about the case he was working on, which was, along with the bureaucracy of his workplace, getting on his nerves, and you listened intently.
You could tell he got a bit tenser while talking about those things, so you could easily conclude that all the little things you did at home, whether he noticed them or not (which he did), were definitely a big help.
“Let’s not think about those things now,” you said softly and reached for his hand, caressing it while looking into his eyes that warmed up almost immediately. “You can’t sleep when you’re tense, anyhow.”
“You’re right,” he said with a quiet sigh and turned his hand around so that he could squeeze yours lightly. “Thank you, for everything.”
“It’s fine,” you smiled and got up so that you could go to the other side of the table and give him a kiss, chuckling to yourself at how chapped his lips were. “Remember to use the lip balm. Anyway, I’ll clean the table, so how about you go shower or to bed or something? I’ll come soon.”
Before you were able to move away, Seungcheol pulled you to his lap, his arms wrapping around you, and simply held you for a while, and you played with his hair a little. He looked up into your eyes, his own ones almost unreadable. Then you felt his hand on your thigh, light as he swallowed. “How tired are you?”
It wasn’t difficult to tell what he meant with his question, especially considering how your sex life had been for the past month at least, and with a slightly playful smile making its way to your lips, you shook your head. “Not too tired for that.”
Seungcheol brought his lips to yours, this time a bit more demanding, and you returned the kiss with just as much passion, hardly able to pull back a bit later.
“Now, go,” you chuckled and got up when he had unwrapped his arms from around you, and so while you cleaned the table and did the dishes, Seungcheol went to shower.
Once you were both done, you moved to the bedroom, and not much later you were sinking down on him, your lips attached to his and your hands moving around on his chest as your hips began moving, his hands holding them steadily.
With how tired Seungcheol was, this was how most of your sex had been for the past few months - fairly quick, simple, and usually with you on top, doing most of the work. Not that you minded, of course: sex was still sex, and during the few years of your relationship you had not once had bad sex with him.
However, as much as you did enjoy it and didn’t want to complain, a part of you needed more. You missed having him in charge; you missed rough sex, and above everything, you missed the times when he had enough time for you. You were impatient for him to get done with the case he was working on, because if history was to repeat itself at all, you’d finally get all the cuddles, warmth and overall attention you craved.
And yet, there were hardly limits to how content you felt when you had both come, Seungcheol inside of you and you with the help of your own hand a bit later, as he spooned you, his lips pressed to your shoulder and hand holding your breast just because.
As long as you didn’t think about the alarm that would go off in a few hours, you were good.
…
The whole day had, for one reason or another, been full torture for you, and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Seungcheol and how badly you wanted him, which was not toned down when he came home wearing his uniform. You painted fantasies in your mind, picturing how he’d fuck you ruthlessly into anything - the mattress, the wall, the table… The sheer desire had you sighing, however, as you remembered that that was out of the question for the time being.
And yet it didn’t stop you from trying your luck that night, since Seungcheol had gotten home a bit earlier than usual. He actually had time to watch some TV then, too, and you joined him on the couch, your lips light on his neck as you brought your hand to his chest and slowly slid it down.
Getting his arm around your shoulders, Seungcheol hummed. “You don’t need to stay up with me, baby.”
“I know,” you answered, pressing kisses along his neck and jawline as your hand moved lower and lower on his body, the need between your legs almost unbearable. “I just… had a thought.”
“Stop.”
Your eyes widened a little, and you froze altogether at the words and the strict tone. Moving back a little, you looked at Seungcheol, retreating your hand from him at the same time.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m too tired.”
“I… okay,” you said, a mix of emotions swirling inside of you, humiliation at the very top as you got up and went to the bedroom, trying to swallow it all. It was natural to not be in the mood and you told yourself you understood him, but you were also unable to shake off the disappointment.
Meanwhile, Seungcheol turned off the TV and leaned forward, covering his face with his hands as he sighed deeply. He could hear the hurt in your voice, and knowing how much you did for him already, the last thing he wanted to do was to make you feel upset.
No matter how much he cursed himself in his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything at that moment, but made sure to do so later. All he could do was, an hour or so later, join you in bed, and give you a gentle kiss on your shoulder as you slept, and whisper “I’m sorry” when he lay his head on his pillow.
The guilt was only made worse when he woke up to the usual box of lunch in the fridge, which you had put just as much care into as you always did. Sighing, he packed it into his bag and made a mental note to surprise you when he came home.
And so he did, returning home with a bouquet of flowers at 3am, expecting you to be asleep, only to find you cooking what he assumed would be his lunch for the next day. Guilt panged in his heart, and he pouted while walking up to you.
“You should be sleeping,” he said, his voice low as he placed his hand on your shoulder, and you sighed.
“I tried, but I couldn’t, so I figured I might as well do this now,” you said quietly while stirring the food on the frying pan.
“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol mumbled, leaning down to press a kiss on the top of your head, and you knew it was about the previous night. You bit down on your lower lip, and the swallowing of any stubborn tears only got more difficult when you could see the flowers from the corner of your eye.
Snorting quietly, you sniffled. “What flower shop was open at this hour?”
“I got them in the evening, you silly,” he chuckled and lowered his hand to your waist. Licking his lips, he tried to find the words he wanted to say. “I’ve been thinking a lot, you know, about last night, and I’m just… really sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been gentler.”
“It’s okay, I get it,” you sighed, as much as his words warmed your heart and made you all the more emotional. “You’re stressed and tired and with that comes more… straight-forward reactions.”
Seungcheol let go of you and moved so that he could see your face. “You don’t need to excuse it, Y/N. Stress and exhaustion don’t excuse everything.”
You nodded and turned the stove off, moving the frying pan to a cool stove plate so that you could turn around and wrap your arms around Seungcheol’s waist loosely and lean against him.
“I love you,” you said quietly, resting your head against his chest, and relaxed a little when you felt his hand stroking your back soothingly. “Even when you’re difficult.”
“Thank you,” he chuckled with a smile on his lips and kissed the top of your head. “I love you, too, for trying to understand me and working so hard for everything to… work, you know. It’s just… frustrating, that I don’t know how to pay you back or return it all.”
You lifted your face and brought one of your hands up to Seungcheol’s cheek, caressing it, the stubble prickly against your fingers. “I’m more than fine just taking care of you. I don’t expect anything in return.”
At that point you could already see his eyes glistening a little, which made you pout as tears began forming in your eyes, too.
“Come on, you can’t cry, otherwise I’ll cry, too,” you said, laughing a little, and Seungcheol shook his head and wiped his eyes quickly.
“Look who’s crying,” he smiled, obvious signs of tears on his eyelashes as a few tears fell from your eyes, which you hurried to dry, too.
The two of you stood there for a while, simply enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence, both of you feeling much lighter than you had since the night before. He helped you pack his own lunch, and once he had washed up and helped you get his clothes ready, you both got in bed, him spooning you and inhaling your scent to calm down his nerves.
“You do so much for me…” he muttered against your neck, and you felt his arm tighten the slightest bit around you, and you smiled. Seungcheol sighed. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you, I really will.”
“Once the case is over,” you said, caressing his hand in front of you, and got a hum from him. “Good night, Cheol.”
“Good night.”
…
The next day, there was more than one thing that startled you.
For one: Seungcheol came home at nine in the evening, and for two, he was not quiet nor calm; he was agitated and upset.
“That son of a bitch tricked me,” he said, using much harsher language than he normally did, running his fingers through his hair while walking back and forth in your hallway.
You stared at him in surprise. “What happened?”
“I thought we had them,” he sneered, simply out of disbelief, and shook his head. “Yet they got us. We’re practically back to square one.”
A sense of disappointment washed over you. “Weren’t you really close to catching them?”
“We were, and that’s the most frustrating part of it,” Seungcheol groaned, hardly resisting the urge to kick the wall. “I don’t know how or when we’ll solve this one.”
“I’m sorry,” you sighed and walked to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind, and smiled a little when you felt him gradually relax, although his heart continued beating rather fast from the adrenaline rush. “So what happens now?”
“First I have a few weeks off,” he said, and you raised your eyebrows, incredulous even as Seungcheol turned around and placed his hands on your hips, his eyes looking right into yours, “which means we finally have some time for each other. Then… I don’t know what happens, but I’ll worry about it later.”
“We’ll worry about it later,” you corrected him with a quirk of your eyebrow, grinning as you got your hands in his hair. “But I’m glad to have you all to myself for two weeks.”
“Me, too,” he smiled and leaned down to kiss you, his hands slowly falling down to your ass, which he squeezed almost absentmindedly, pulling you flush against himself. You chuckled against his lips, especially when he pulled you closer.
“You don’t have your gun in your pocket, do you?” you asked jokingly, very aware of what was pressing against you, and got back a snort.
“I really don’t,” he admitted with a smirk when you had pulled away from the kiss, and licked his lips. “We haven’t really done anything special lately, have we?”
“What do you have in mind?” you asked, biting on your lower lip lightly when you felt him squeeze your ass more and more.
“I’ve got a pair of handcuffs,” Seungcheol said simply, and you swallowed hard both at that and the dark, intense look in his eyes.
“Those sound good,” you whispered, and it was within a few seconds that Seungcheol had you pressed against the wall, letting out the frustrations he had been bearing for months as he kissed you, hungry and passionate and demanding all at once, his knee between your legs as you held his shoulders and neck while kissing him back.
It drove you crazy how badly you had been in need of all of it: finally having him take control and all that, and you knew during the two weeks he’d be more available you’d also get plenty of more cuddles and his attention in general, as well as some mind-blowing sex you hoped you were in for now, too.
Your kisses grew hungrier and hungrier, and Seungcheol undressed you one piece of clothing at a time, kissing your exposed body as he did. Eventually you were drenched and almost naked, only wearing your panties and leaning against the wall while he got his handcuffs from his back pocket, only to smirk at you.
“Turn around,” he said playfully, and you grinned while complying, excitement arising inside of you when he put the handcuffs on you. When they were both locked, you licked your lips as you leaned against the wall behind yourself, your breathing heavy as Seungcheol dragged a single finger on your exposed chest.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, his voice low, and smirked a little when he ran his finger over one of your hard nipples, making you squirm a little. His voice was almost soft when he spoke again, leaning in to give you a kiss. “I think it’s my time to please you, don’t you think?”
The kiss started out fairly gentle, really, but it grew to the same heights of passion your earlier ones had, too, rather soon. You sighed contently when he pulled away and brought his lips to your neck instead, one of his hands cupping your breast and massaging it a little as he kissed his way down your body, his other hand resting on the curve of your ass, playing with the waistband of your panties.
“You’re being a tease,” you whispered, your breath hitching a little when his lips reached your chest, soon wrapping around your nipple so that he could play with it with his tongue.
Then he continued kissing his way down, dragging your panties down when he was low enough. “And I know you love it, baby.”
“I do,” you said, looking down at him almost in a daze, swallowing hard when Seungcheol urged you to step out of your panties before helping you spread your legs a little. When his lips met your clit, you couldn’t help but buck your hips forward, your hands holding each other tightly. “God, I do.”
He smirked to himself, although the mental image of how much of a mess you would soon be, both because of what he was about to do and because you couldn’t touch him while he did so, had him incredibly aroused. Seungcheol took a final look at your face before sticking his tongue out and giving you a long, slow lick from your drenched entrance to your already slightly swollen clit.
“Seungcheol,” you sighed, clearly in need of more, but from the look in his eyes you could tell he wasn’t about to give you what you wanted just yet, and somehow that knowledge only excited you more.
“Patience,” he said simply before starting to lick your clit, alternating between flattening his tongue and using the mere tip to play with it, lapping at it first fast and then slower, wrapping his lips around it…
It didn’t take long for you to be writhing, controlling your hips only getting more and more difficult with each movement of his tongue. However, sensing that, Seungcheol got his hands to your hips and held them in place as well as he could while eating you out almost desperately; after all, he was finally able to make you feel good and show you the kind of attention you deserved, and he wanted to make it memorable.
And besides, he loved making you squirm just as much as he loved feeling you, sensing your neediness and tasting you on his tongue.
“Y/N,” he called, rubbing your hip bones lightly with his thumbs as he brought his mouth a bit to the side, kissing your inner thighs. Only when you opened your eyes and looked down at him while breathing heavily, he continued. “I want you to look at me.”
“Okay,” you breathed, shutting your mouth as you mewled when he dove back between your legs, his tongue swift on your clit as he rocked his head slightly, his eyes aimed right back at yours most of the time.
It was sinful, in all honesty, to see him like that, with the dark uniform still on him as he ate you out eagerly, his eyes sharp and full of lust while his tongue moved on you, only his plump upper lip slightly visible every now and then.
Oh, how you wished you had been able to have your hands in his hair.
“God,” you whimpered when he shut his eyes and got your clit between his lips, sucking it the slightest bit, the lewdness of which contrasted a little with his long eyelashes showing against his skin beautifully. Your back arched when he began teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue, and were only made more desperate when you felt one of his fingers by your entrance, easing in when you bucked your hips against it. “Yes…”
Seungcheol hummed to himself a little, pleased with himself when he noticed your reaction to what he was doing, and so he put more and more effort into it all, soon with two fingers moving inside of you painstakingly slowly while his mouth worked its wonders on you.
And well, his mouth had always been a bit of a weakness for you, whether it was when you were kissing or just looking at him suck on a popsicle, and with you having - or getting to, really - watch all of it, it took a bit less than normal for you to be tensing up with your back arching as your orgasm began rocking through you.
“Seung– ah– cheol,” you whined when he picked up the speed at which his fingers were moving, fucking you with them through your orgasm before pulling them out and giving your pussy a few good licks, lapping at your juices even when you tried to shy away a little.
“You taste fantastic,” he nearly groaned, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before sucking his fingers clean, too, almost moaning while doing so, and stood up. You licked your lips and lowered your gaze to his slightly glistening lips that he proceeded to lick clean and grin at you. “Good?”
You could only nod, more than eager to kiss him, which he got to feel in his bones as you pressed into him as well as you could with your hands behind your back, kissing him desperately and making it obvious you wanted him, badly, to the point where your legs were shaking a little.
Pulling back, Seungcheol still nibbled a little on your lower lip and placed his hands on your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly. “Are you ready for more?”
“What is more?” you asked with a quiet chuckle, only to hold back a moan when you felt his hand back between your legs, more or less signaling what he had in mind, which had your legs squeezing together almost involuntarily. “Y-yes.”
He smirked and gave you another deep kiss, after which he took his uniform pants off, and was about to discard the jacket and shirt, too, but stopped in the middle of popping another button open when you brought your foot to his shin.
“Could you keep them on?” you asked suggestively while lightly biting on your lower lip, and Seungcheol quirked his eyebrow before grinning. “Maybe open, but you know…”
“So you do have a thing for it,” he noted teasingly and nodded then, opening the buttons of his shirt but keeping both that and his jacket on. You took in the sight, and it alone had you biting down on your lower lip, and he loved the way you practically ate him with your eyes, and smirked. “Then they’ll stay on.”
With that decided, he got the key to the handcuffs from his pocket and opened one of them, rubbing your wrist lightly before suggesting you bring your hands to the front, where he put the cuff back on you.
“They’re not hurting, are they?” he asked while locking it again, and turned his gaze to you.
You shook your head with a small smile. “Not too badly. I kinda like it, actually.”
Seungcheol could only chuckle while putting the key away again and giving you a kiss on your forehead. “That’s my girl.”
While you smiled to yourself, he proceeded to take his underwear off, too, which left him with his socks and uniform shirt and jacket, his cock standing hard between his legs and making your pussy pulsate with need at the mere sight of it.
“Haven’t seen you staring that blatantly for a while,” Seungcheol noted with a lopsided smirk as he leaned closer to you, kissing your neck while merely grazing your left breast with his palm, making you sigh when he lightly touched your pert nipple.
“Haven’t been this horny for a while,” you half corrected and, when he had leaned backwards a bit, lifted your arms so that you could get them around his neck. Playing with his hair, you looked into his eyes, dark and full of lust as he looked back at you, and with a blank albeit hot expression slowly grinded against you, his cock rubbing into your lower stomach. You licked your lips. “Have I told you how much I love it when you’re like this? Taking charge and all.”
He smiled a little; that smug smile that always had you weak. “You have, yeah. I should probably do it more often, hmm?”
While humming, he sucked on the skin of your neck lightly, and you nearly squirmed.
“I’d love it,” you said and tugged at his hair, pulling his head back so that you could soon start pulling him closer. “But with the circumstances, I understand it’s a bit of a rare occasion, and that just makes this better.”
As you finally pulled him close, you could also feel him press his full body into you, his chest meeting yours, his cock pressing harder into you, and much to your pleasure you could also feel his thigh between your legs, pressing pleasantly into your wet, sensitive pussy.
The kisses were hungry, sloppy and desperate and you touched his upper body as much as you could with the handcuffs on, and feeling his hands explore your body, squeezing your ass and smacking it a little, made it all the more difficult to keep your mind clear, not to mention with the cock pressing against your skin when you wanted it inside of you so badly.
Soon you couldn’t help but start grinding against his thigh, needy for more, and it made Seungcheol chuckle, but he didn’t say anything, and instead just held your hips down better.
“You’re so hot in your uniform,” you mumbled against his lips, gasping for air when your clit rubbed into his skin, and dug your fingers lightly into his upper back.
“I know,” Seungcheol whispered, and had it not been for how heated the situation was, you would’ve snorted at the blatant reply. Then again, of course he knew: he knew exactly how hot he was and how weak you were for him. He grunted quietly and pulled back, too hard to think straight, especially when he felt how wet you were making his thigh. “God, I really want to fuck you.”
“Do it,” you said bluntly, breathing heavily while looking him challengingly into the eye while playing with his hair a little. “Fuck me.”
Seungcheol smirked and leaned closer to your ear, his breath hot when it hit your skin, and it all was made so much more unbearable when you felt his cock between your folds, but not even meant to go inside of you. “Do you want me to fuck you hard, baby?”
“So hard,” you whispered, your voice slightly shaky with anticipation at the feeling of his cock simply moving against you as he grinded against your pussy.
He kept it going for a while, until you were whimpering and shivering and begging for more, the handcuffs clinking a little when your hands jolted. Smirking, Seungcheol kissed you by your ear. “Good girl.”
Much to your disappointment, he then pulled away from you and got your arms off himself, mumbling that he’d go get a condom, obviously hesitant to leave you. Then again, seeing his bare ass and thighs move as he walked to your bedroom, you figured you could live with the wait. It was clear he was as fast as he could, and soon he was back, trying to get the condom on himself while still walking. Once he had reached you, you got your arms over his head again and pulled him close.
“Finally,” Seungcheol whispered, and you could feel his hand on the back of your left thigh, which he then lifted up to his waist and held it there while aligning himself with your entrance, allowing the mere tip of his length in. Whimpering, you held onto his shoulders, and it was the quiet, rushed ”please, please, please” that you whispered that finally made Seungcheol groan and push fully into you, making you gasp as he bottomed out.
“God, yes,” you breathed, leaning your head against the wall as you took a moment to get used to having Seungcheol inside of you again, which was made all the more pleasurable as he rolled his hips slowly while kissing your neck, gradually moving higher with his lips while also squeezing your ass generously, fondling with it a little.
“Are you good?” he asked, his voice husky and giving away that he was impatient, and it made the warmth at the pit of your stomach flare up.
“Yeah.”
With that, Seungcheol began moving, his hips snapping back and forth fluidly as he put the weeks, months of frustration into it, and you loved it.
It had been so long, too long since the last time that Seungcheol had taken charge while you had sex, much less been rough, and so it was a very welcome, refreshing change, especially considering how badly you had wanted him and still did.
You mirrored Seungcheol’s moves with your hips as well as you could, moaning at the new angles as well as feeling his hips meet yours, and feeling his cock brush by the most sensitive bits of you, you whimpered, begging for more.
Grunting, Seungcheol brought his left hand to your right thigh and licked his lips, pulling his face away from you. He looked into your eyes and stopped his hips for a moment, which left you panting as you looked at him, confused and impatient.
“Can you get the other leg up, too?” he asked, and you clenched involuntarily around him at the thought alone, which made the corners of his mouth tug upwards. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” you chuckled and nodded enthusiastically, and with him taking a good hold of your leg, closer to your ass, you took a small jump while he simultaneously lifted you a little, and soon you had your legs crossing behind his back, your weight supported by the wall behind your back and his hands under your ass.
He let you down a little, and you moaned at the new depths he was reaching inside of you, your hips pushing against him almost on their own accord, at which Seungcheol smiled.
“I love seeing you feel so good, and fuck you feel so good,” he mumbled and gave you a deep kiss full of desire that was only made more desperate when your nails dug into his upper back as he began thrusting into you again. Indeed, he loved seeing you feel so good, especially when he felt, or knew, really, that he hadn’t been able to help you feel that way in what he considered way too long of a time. The metal of the handcuffs was cool against his back, also digging into it lightly, and he enjoyed the slight pain.
“Harder,” you whispered when Seungcheol had broken away from the kiss, and cried out when he complied, his cock moving inside of you hard and fast as he pounded into you time after time, his hands pushing you down on himself with each thrust. The lewd noises of his hips smacking against your ass were gorgeous and only drove the two of you further into lust.
He kept going like that for a while, loving how hot and wet you were around him and how utterly blissful noises you were making, but there was a part in him that thought he was being a bit too rough, especially when he saw the red marks on your skin when he moved his hands.
However, only one look at your face - as well as hearing the satisfied sounds you made - told him more than enough: you were more than fine. Your lips were parted as you moaned, your eyes shut and eyebrows in a small frown, and all in all your face screamed pleasure.
And so he didn’t hesitate to keep going and even going a bit harder still - as long as you didn’t say you were uncomfortable or show that, he concluded it would be fine.
“Fuck,” you whimpered and clung onto Seungcheol tighter, your arms wrapped around his neck as you held him as close as you could, your legs tightening around his waist, too. With each hard slam of his hips into yours as he rammed into you with all his might, you were brought closer and closer to your orgasm, which was already impossibly close, and you could already tell it would hit you hard.
Seungcheol could feel himself get close to his orgasm, too, and he grunted while burying his face in your shoulder, his lips pressing to your collarbone as he sucked on the skin. “Come for me, baby.”
It was everything going on joined with his sultry voice and demanding words, as well as the fact that it was the hardest sex you’d had for months that had you coming undone around him, gasping for air as you did so, your pussy milking his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm until reaching his and releasing into the condom with a groan. Seungcheol rocked his hips slowly for a while more, and slowly pulled out of you before letting you down, keeping you up as your legs nearly gave in.
“Holy shit,” you breathed, clinging onto Seungcheol and leaning against him while his arms wrapped around your body.
“I can’t believe we haven’t done anything like this for so long,” he mumbled and stroked your back soothingly, and you smiled to yourself before slowly lifting your face from your boyfriend’s chest.
“It’s fine, though. I’m glad that even though you’ve been tired, there’s still been something,” you said, hinting at the quick, simple albeit satisfying sessions you’d had for the past few months, and Seungcheol gave you a lopsided smile.
“I’m glad, too, but I think we both miss something that’s a bit more like this,” he hummed and gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, lingering there for a while.
As you pulled back, you could only stare at him with nothing but adoration and love in your gaze, and played with the hair at the back of his head. “I’m not denying any of that, but really, it’s fine.”
“I’ll try to stay on top of things from now on,” he whispered and hugged you, giving you a gentle kiss on your neck. “In many ways, too, not just this.”
“Thank you,” you smiled with a quiet chuckle and hugged him back, only reminded of the handcuffs around your wrists when you couldn’t unwrap your arms from around Seungcheol’s neck.
“Oh, right,” he grinned and got the key from his pocket while you lifted your arms up and brought them back down in front of you, pushing your hands forward so that Seungcheol could easily unlock the cuffs.
Seeing the redness on your wrists, he pouted a little and rubbed the marks lightly with his thumbs, and before he was able to ask anything, you shook your head with a smile playing on your lips. “If you’re wondering if it hurts, the answer is no. I’m fine.”
“You sure?” he asked, one of his eyebrows quirked and plump lips forming a slight pout. “And I wasn’t too harsh, was I?”
You shook your head with a warm smile on your lips as you brought your hands to Seungcheol’s cheeks to cup them. “Not in the least, honey. I loved it all.”
“Good,” he said and took your hands into his, pressing a kiss to the back of both of your hands.
You stood close to each other for a while, with you leaning against him and him stroking your back slowly, until you grimaced a little, feeling how sticky your thighs were. “I think I’ll shower.”
“I’ll join you,” he grinned and gave you a tap on your ass when you pulled back, snickering at your reaction while you went to the bathroom first, with his eyes following you intently. However, your eyes were just as intent on him when he joined and you could see him all naked, particularly from the back, as he discarded the condom and got his shirt and jacket to the laundry basket.
If you were asked, it was near impossible not to stare at him, especially when he, after the shower, only put on a pair of sweatpants that looked sinfully good on him.
Half an hour or so later the two of you had both showered and ordered some late-night pizza, and had moved to the couch with the TV on, although you were hardly watching it. You were cuddled up to Seungcheol, enjoying the pizza and stealing bits of his one, too: he couldn’t say no to you when you looked at him with a pleading pout, asking for one more bite, although you both knew it wouldn’t be the last one.
When you had both had enough of the pizza, you focused on simply relaxing and enjoying each other’s presence in all peace, and you couldn’t even remember the last time you had been able to do that.
Seungcheol’s arm was around you, and he leaned his head to rest above yours lightly. He pulled you the merest bit closer and gave you a soft kiss on the top of your head. “You know that I love you, right?”
Unable to keep a smile off your face, you nodded and cuddled closer to Seungcheol. “And I love you, too.”
“I’m not sure if I deserve you, but I’m so thankful to have you by my side,” he whispered, and you took it all in carefully, knowing just how rare such words really were. While incredibly loving and appreciative, it wasn’t often that he got sappy. Seungcheol breathed almost shakily, and you began stroking his side gently as an attempt to calm him down. “Thank you for being there, Y/N. For supporting me, for loving me, for not abandoning me–”
“I would never,” you said, pouting as you lifted your face and looked at your boyfriend, who was visibly on the verge of tears, which then again made you feel emotional, too. You lifted your hand from his side to his cheek and shook your head. “Don’t cry, baby, it’s alright. I’m here, and I won’t leave.”
Unable to speak more, Seungcheol only nodded and hid his face in your shoulder, hugging you just as tightly as you hugged him, and you hummed with a small smile on your lips.
“You’re exhausted, I think we should sleep,” you said quietly, and Seungcheol nodded but didn’t budge.
“I want to be like this for a bit more,” he pleaded, and you nodded, stroking his hair gently. He breathed deeply, holding you in his embrace while taking in your scent, which he loved and which calmed him down faster than quite likely anything else.
A few moments later you got to bed, with Seungcheol on his back and you on your side, cuddling up to him.
“I think the time off will be good for you,” you mumbled while drawing circles into his bare chest, a habit you had picked up on fairly early in your relationship.
Seungcheol, while lazily stroking your back, chuckled quietly. “It’ll be good for both of us.”
“But you’re the one lacking sleep and being stressed,” you noted and looked up at him, although you couldn’t see much with how dark your bedroom was. He shrugged a little and pulled you closer.
“And you’re to be thanked for helping me survive all that,” he said and leaned in to give you a kiss, smiling into it.
“You’re welcome,” you smiled when he had broken away, and little by little you got one of your legs over Seungcheol’s as you got more comfortable. He laughed quietly, but didn’t say anything.
You were just glad you could finally have him next to you, as light-hearted as he seemed to be at that moment, and you could already tell you would love the weeks he’d be resting at home.
And for the first time in a while, you felt more light-hearted, too: as much as you didn’t want to make it into a big deal, living with him when he was so stressed was incredibly stressful for you, too, and putting extra care into almost everything you did was, as gladly as you did it, exhausting.
But you loved Seungcheol and knew full well that he was worth it all and so much more, and were glad to see that he did his best to repay you, as much as you insisted on it being unnecessary.
To him, you were worth everything, too, and he did everything in his power to show you that for the weeks he spent at home, as well as when he went back to work.
Admin Scooter
#s.coups smut#seungcheol smut#s.coups scenarios#seungcheol scenarios#s.coups imagines#seungcheol imagines#seventeen smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios
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FOREVER BElonging WITH YOU
PART VIII - THE DELIVERY
<< PART VII || END Story Rating: M Chapter Warnings: Pregnancy, medical things, and mild suggestive content. [This chapter is sfw.]
When Renji and Rukia’s daughter finally arrived, she was late.
As in, “half a week past her due date” late.
And because everyone involved was under the reasonable assumption that she would come before or on the projected day given by Captain Kotetsu, this unexpected delay of events selfishly interrupted the lives of people who had already organized their schedules for after said day. It was already highly inconvenient for those who resided in Soul Society, but it was even more so for the ones living on an entirely different plane of existence.
Typical. Only her first day of life and she was already throwing baby-sized wrenches into Ichigo’s plans. Just what he’d expect from something spawned by those two.
They were important plans, too. He was supposed to be treating Orihime, his girlfriend of eight months now, to a date that included a morning walk in her favorite park, lunch at a new restaurant downtown, and a movie of her choice; His intended birthday gift to her. Since he was swamped with classes during her actual birthday on the 3rd of September and had several major assignments due in the weeks following, he had worked extra hard to make sure this day, the 23rd of September, would be free of conflicts and he could devote all his time and attention to her. After all, Ichigo knew these were the things she treasured from him more than anything else and he would walk the world over to give them to her. Twice.
When he thought about it, that’s what he loved most about Orihime.
They had been together as a couple since mid January, though he had definitely harbored a crush long before that, and her even longer still. Ichigo had to reluctantly admit: If Renji hadn’t decided to play matchmaker (at his own wedding, no less) and figuratively thrown Orihime into his arms (which, ironically, Ichigo had literally done to him with the woman he had just married), he might not have ever found the courage to act on his feelings. He was happy enough being around her even just as her friend, and he didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize their relationship or make her uncomfortable. All he wanted was to see her happy and safe.
Even though Renji had given him the perfect opportunity, he still couldn’t bring himself to confess to her at the wedding and instead asked that she make time for him so they could discuss something important. It had taken almost two weeks to find that time when both of them could sit down and properly talk, but they put in the effort to make it work. It meant they had to quite literally meet up during work hours while she was on break, but at that point Ichigo didn’t even care anymore. He just needed to come clean to her somehow.
When he was finally able to look her in the eye over a platter of fruit tarts and quietly tell her, “Inoue…this may be selfish of me but I need you to know my feelings. For you. I like you a lot as a friend. And I think…I might also like you as something more,” Ichigo definitely didn’t expect her to break down and give him a confession of her own in return.
Her feelings, as it turned out, were the same as his. Though she deeply desired more, all she ever wanted and expected from him was his company and loyal friendship, if it meant he could be happy.
Ichigo ended up waiting around until her shift was over and walking her back to her apartment where they drank tea and ate more sweets and stayed up talking well past midnight. It was almost 1am when he finally arrived home and was promptly submerged in a tidal wave of nosy questions from his prying family. That was probably why he held off until April to officially tell them he and Inoue (he would soon start calling her Orihime after that) were dating.
Funnily enough, they’d actually already deduced it for themselves from the amount of time she spent at their house, not to mention alone with him in his room.
September rolled around and he and Orihime were better than ever…still close and growing closer, still enjoying spending time with each other, still determined to make the other as happy as they could possibly be. The only dynamic that had truly and drastically changed between them was…well…in a physical proximity sense.
And speaking of which, in the days leading up to their date Ichigo found himself secretly hoping that she’d pick a boring and easily ignored biopic or something lame like that so they could sit in the back of the theater and find a better way to pass the time.
That morning had gotten off to a good start. After getting up early enough to take the first shower (allowing him as much hot water as he wanted) and gulping down a quick breakfast, he zipped himself into a jacket appropriate for the brisk autumn air and set off to meet Orihime at the park to kick off their walk-lunch-movie date. It was approximately 10:46 am, 20 minutes into the “walk” part, when both their phones buzzed and lit up with identical text messages:
GET READY!!! BABY COMING SOON!!!
At Orihime’s insistence, Ichigo reluctantly agreed to set aside their plans for another day so they could wait on standby for any further updates on the baby’s progress from Renji (as they had promised and intended to do when she was supposed to be born, four days ago). Bare minimum decent as it was, if it could reassure Renji and Rukia to know they were only a text or call away should something drastic happen, then all the better. It wasn’t like there was anything they could actually help with since this was all going down in Soul Society and they were…not in Soul Society.
After two and a half hours of sitting on his bed and twiddling their fingers to radio silence, the message they’d been anticipating finally arrived:
SHE’S HERE!!!
This one was accompanied by a photo of a sweaty and exhausted-looking Rukia lying on a hospital bed and giving the camera a weary, but noticeably happy, thumbs-up.
After studying the photo, they remarked to each other with some amusement that considering the wording of the message it would have made more sense for Renji to send a picture of the baby instead of Rukia. But as his next message informed them, they had already been given priority clearance to come to Soul Society right away so they would see her for themselves very soon.
3:55pm, they all stood in the street just outside of Ichigo’s house waiting for the gates to appear so they could cross over: Himself, Orihime, and Chad.
Next to him, Orihime fidgeted and wrung her hands excitedly. And next to her, Chad loomed over, tall and massive as ever. Ichigo swore he got bigger every time they met up. He was training practically every day, though, (and had even shown up straight from the gym still in his workout gear) so it actually might not have been his imagination.
A light breeze blew a small flock of leaves past them and ruffled his hair. Sighing, Ichigo took one hand out of his pocket to brush it back in place somewhat awkwardly. It was weird not feeling the long strands he was used to having since he was a kid; He had recently cut his hair short on a whim and had yet to grow accustomed to the new style.
Actually, that was a lie…he cut it because Orihime had mentioned a few times in passing that she thought a short haircut would look good on him and he’d finally given in to curiosity. Thankfully, it turned out she’d been right. It made him look his age, maybe even older.
Not to mention, it was worth seeing the look on her face when he showed up on her doorstep unannounced to show it off. He really liked making her blush and smile like that.
“Hm. This feels a little strange,” Chad suddenly remarked.
Ichigo dropped his hand and jammed it back into his jacket pocket. “I know. Hard to imagine those two idiots with a kid isn’t it?”
Chad shook his dark curls. “No. I mean us going to Soul Society like this without Ishida.”
“Oh. Right.” Ichigo shrugged. “He said he was fine with it. You know how busy he’s been recently.”
“Still, it is sad.” Orihime tucked a strand of hair behind her ear wistfully. Her blue flower hairpin flashed brightly in its disturbance. “We don’t get to see him much anymore. I hope this doesn’t mean-”
Ichigo let out a defiant huff before she could finish. “That doesn’t matter, does it? Ishida’s still our friend. We’ve been through things together, we still have those bonds and share the same feelings. That’s not going to change, even if we don’t see him as often as we want to.” He then noticed the other two smiling strangely at him. “What…?”
Chad smirked and Orihime let out one of her musical laughs. “Nothing,” they replied simultaneously.
Ichigo sighed. He adored his girlfriend and his best friend dearly but sometimes he just didn’t get them.
At 4pm right on the dot, they felt the telltale spike of energy and shift in the wind that heralded the appearance of the Senkaimon. Seconds later, it materialized in front of them. The doors slid smoothly open to reveal the dark dank passageway of the Dangai, and its lone occupant.
“Kurosaki Ichigo. Inoue Orihime. Sado Yasutora.” A familiar cool masculine voice addressed each in turn. Three hell butterflies fluttered out to meet them and circled impatiently around their heads as if to say “Hurry up! Get moving!”
Ichigo gestured in greeting to the approaching figure with his hand still inside his jacket. “Yo, Byakuya! Congratulations!”
“Rukia and Renji had the child, not I.” Byakuya eyed him with blatant disapproval for his supposed mistake. Although, that wasn’t saying much since the man always gave off the impression that his sole purpose in life was to bestow unforgiving judgment on everyone around him.
Stepping through the doorway with the others, Ichigo shrugged. “Yeah, but you’re an uncle now, that’s something we still congratulate people for.” The doors clanged shut behind them and he fell into step next to the captain. “So, congrats, Uncle Byakuya! How does it feel to have a new niece?”
“Oh. Yes. Good, I suppose.” Byakuya closed his eyes and turned away with a curt nod. “Thank you,” he added hastily.
Ichigo smirked to himself. There were things even the great Kuchiki Byakuya wasn’t immune to and getting caught off guard by his own emotions was one of them.
Of course, now that Byakuya had clammed completely shut, that was the extent of this discussion. For almost the rest of the way the four of them walked the bumpy, oozing tunnel to Soul Society in awkward silence, their butterflies flapping out little halo-like paths over their heads. It wasn’t until they caught sight of the bright light streaming in at the end of the channel that it was abruptly lifted.
“Byakuya-san?”
He looked slightly taken aback at being addressed after such a lengthy pause in conversation but he indulged Orihime anyways. “Yes?” he answered in a stern, clipped voice as if he was attempting to discourage any small talk in a very roundabout way.
However, he’d apparently forgotten this was Orihime he was talking to and being Orihime, she wouldn’t be deterred by something like that. She pressed on shyly. “Um…have you seen her yet? The baby?”
“…I have.”
With that bit of knowledge, she gained new confidence and perked up considerably. “Really? What’s she like?” Orihime asked him eagerly.
Byakuya glanced at her for a split second before replying with some reluctance, “Very small.”
This was not surprising information. Not counting children, out of their entire group of acquaintances (Shinigami or human) Rukia stood the shortest at less than 4’9” tall. On top of that, she was incredibly slender and it was pretty much a given any baby that grew inside her would reflect this, plus the bump in her stomach did not end up being very big in the end. So knowing that, what Byakuya gave them wasn’t exactly useful information, either.
When Orihime continued looking at him expectantly, he sighed in defeat and went on, “But she is healthy. She has Rukia’s eyes. And a full head of hair. Renji’s hair,” he added begrudgingly as if this was somehow Renji’s fault.
Unprompted this time, he paused and took a breath.
“You will not be disappointed. She is…adorable.”
Ichigo raised his eyebrows. Was that a smile on Byakuya’s face, or was he imagining things? And the measured steps he was taking…had they suddenly become lighter? Unsure, he looked over at Chad, who shared his sentiments with a silent shrug.
Byakuya only accompanied them as far as the gate, immediately excusing himself and shunpo’ing away the second he stepped foot onto the ground and his hell butterfly detached from his aura. Something told Ichigo this was his way of dealing with the embarrassment of letting so much emotion towards his newborn niece slip out in front of them.
Well, it made him seem more human at least. Or…soul.
The 4th Division’s main medical building (where Byakuya had been decent enough to direct them before darting away) wasn’t busy at all that day. In fact until they walked through the doors, the entire reception area was completely deserted save for one person seated at the first aid station nearby. The poor thing was swaying back and forth on his stool with the glazed over look of someone who’d been stuck in one spot with nothing to do for hours.
“Hey, Hanataro!” Ichigo recognized who it was and waved. “D’you know where Rukia’s room is?”
The zoned-out Shinigami yelped and shot several feet off his stool from shock. Displaying remarkable recovery time for someone so lethargic, he snapped back quick as a whip, standing straight at attention and braced for the impending reprimand for slacking at his post. When he saw it was only Ichigo and co. he immediately relaxed his posture and put on a relieved smile. “Oh, hi, everyone! Um, yes, it’s just down this hallway. Follow me.” He motioned for them to accompany him down the closest corridor and they followed his lead.
As they walked, Hanataro looked at each of them and asked eagerly, “Are you here to see the baby?”
“Yes!” Orihime nodded, excited, and moved closer to him. “Have you met her yet, Hanataro-kun?”
Hanataro blushed rather furiously at this question. “Ah…well…you could say I was one of the first people she met,” he laughed nervously and fiddled with the strap of his backpack.
Chad slowed pace and tilted his head. “You…delivered her?”
Thoroughly appalled by this suggestion, Hanataro vigorously shook his head and waved his hands in front of him. “Oh…no…no, I wouldn’t even trust myself to do that! Captain Kotetsu was the one who delivered her. But the lieutenant and I checked her over and took measurements right after she was born!” He paused with one finger in the air and mouth slightly agape. After thinking hard for a moment, he scratched his chin sheepishly. “Um…I forgot what they were. I was sent away once I did that.”
“That’s okay. We’ll…get them from Renji or something,” Ichigo assured, knowing full well they would completely forget by the time they actually got to him.
“Right…ah…I’m sorry, but I do have to get back to my work. Her room’s right there.” After pointing it out, he waved and hurried back down the hall to his station. The others continued on.
Up ahead there was a flash of red and Renji popped forth from the room Hanataro had singled out. When he spotted the approaching trio, his face immediately lit up and he waved at them with all the enthusiasm of a puppy bounding over to say hello to its favorite human. They had seen Renji get worked up when he was feeling strong emotions many times before, but never like this. Right now he looked positively giddy with elation.
“Ichigo! Inoue! Sado!” His loud booming voice echoed down the hall and practically knocked them down with its intensity. “Gladja could make it!”
A passing orderly carrying a tray full of surgical supplies and bandages winced. “Excuse me, Lieutenant Abarai…I understand this is a happy occasion but I must ask that you please keep your voice down. There are recovering patients on this floor,” he insisted, balancing the tray with one hand and gingerly rubbing the ear closest to Renji with the other.
Wide-eyed, Renji shrank back and rubbed the back of his head guiltily as the orderly continued on his way. “Ah…right. Sorry.”
“Yo, Renji,” Ichigo greeted once they reached him, “everything good? How’s Rukia?”
Renji dropped his hand and grinned broadly with a sing-song voice, “Come ‘an see for yourselves!” He whirled around in a flurry of ponytail and shihakusho and proceeded to prance back into the room with an overly accentuated bounce in his step.
Ichigo glanced at Orihime, who looked back at him and giggled under her breath. He had to agree with her; Renji was acting a little silly, even for him. Any other day and Ichigo would have given him grief for it. But considering the circumstances he supposed he could let this one instance slide. After all, the guy did just witness the birth of his first child, he had every right be stupidly happy about that.
And come to think of it…that goofy demeanor sort of reminded him of his own father. Maybe it was a Shinigami dad thing? Ichigo hoped it wasn’t contagious. Or hereditary.
“Rukia! They’re here!” Renji announced in a raised whisper when the three of them followed his lead through the door.
From the bed in the center of the room, Rukia rolled her heavily lidded eyes. “I heard you the first time, Renji.” But she smiled warmly at her friends in greeting as they filed in and lined up at the end of her bed, right in front of the small table where various gifts and flower baskets had begun to accumulate.
Then the bundle in her arms stirred and gave a tiny squawk of a cry.
“Shhh…it’s okay.” Rukia gazed down and crooned in a soft tone Ichigo had never heard her use before as she tenderly rocked it. “You have some visitors, sweetie. Do you want to meet them? They want to meet you.” She spoke every syllable so slowly and deliberately he started wondering what the hell kind of drugs they were giving her to make her talk like that. And use a very un-Rukia-like word like “sweetie”.
Perched on a chair drawn up beside the bed, Renji watched them with a joyfully pained expression, like he was on the verge of crying any second. He even gave a minute sniff and drew his sleeve across his eyes.
Good grief, Ichigo thought to himself. Renji was blubbering so badly it was starting to remind him of Orihime. Which, of course, was perfectly fine when it was Orihime, but Renji displaying that type of disposition was just plain bizarre.
Rukia suddenly looked up and frowned at the three of them. “What are you standing there for? Get over here and say hi to her. She’s a baby, not a virus,” she scolded. That sounded much more like the Rukia they knew; Raking them over the coals for something as trivial as their failure to properly greet her hours-old child who understood approximately zero words of spoken language.
Unsurprisingly, Orihime made the first move. Nervously jittering from hairpin to boot tip in her mix of excitement and apprehension, she shuffled around and sat on the bed next to Rukia. But when she looked down at the bundle, her hands flew up to her face and the timid look underneath gave way to one of pure joy.
“Ohhh…Rukia-san…Renji-kun,” Orihime gasped softly, “She’s beautiful.” She glanced between Renji and Rukia with a hopeful expression. “Um, may I…is it alright if…”
“Would you like to hold her, Inoue?” Rukia prompted, giving her a gentle smile.
“Yes! Please!” Orihime beamed and held out her arms.
Carefully, under Renji’s contented observation, Rukia handed their daughter over to Orihime. “Be sure to support her head,” she instructed, “There you go, Inoue. That’s it.”
The second Rukia had placed the baby in Orihime’s arms, something magical occurred.
His girlfriend’s face blossomed into the most radiant smile Ichigo had ever seen and suddenly it was as if everything warm and soft about her had multiplied exponentially. As he watched, awestruck, she settled the baby in the cradle of her embrace so smoothly and delicately it looked like she’d been holding children all her life. Perfectly at ease with playing the role of this child’s caretaker, she almost looked more natural and motherly holding it than Rukia, the actual mother.
On second thought…that one could’ve been his own bias talking. There was a strong possibility being kicked in the face one too many times by Rukia may have severely damaged his ability to view her as “motherly” in any way.
When Orihime looked up at him, even her eyes were shining.
“Ichigo-kun…Sado-kun,” she whispered tearfully and held out the blanket for the boys to see, making sure she was still supporting in all the right places. They both moved over and peered at the sleeping baby swaddled within.
Byakuya wasn’t kidding…she really did have a full head of hair and it was the exact shade of crimson as her father’s. It almost looked like someone had cut off the end of Renji’s ponytail and glued it onto his daughter as a wig. Thankfully the rosy color dusting her chubby cheeks and delicate button nose wasn’t nearly as bright, or the effect might have made her resemble a miniature circus clown. Thin rows of dark fluffy lashes lay shut over each eye, occasionally twitching in her state of peaceful slumber, and the more Ichigo looked the more her features fluctuated between each parent. Everything about her was a perfect combination of both, though the way her nose crinkled daintily as she stirred and parted her lips with a barely audible whimper was definitely all Rukia.
A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed it back to look at Rukia and Renji. “That’s amazing. She really looks like you guys,” was all he could think to say.
Rukia rolled her eyes. “Well duh.” Despite her tone, the small smile she wore gave away how much she genuinely appreciated his comment.
Chad leaned over and cautiously pulled back the blanket with one thick finger to get a better look. “Does she have a name yet?” he asked Rukia in his deep melodic voice.
Rukia opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Renji frantically leaping to his feet. “Oi! Of course we gave her a name! It’s Ichika! Abarai Ichika!” he insisted. He sounded highly insulted, like Chad had just accused him of being a terrible father for leaving his newborn child nameless. Which Ichigo knew he hadn’t, but again…Renji was having a very unusual day today, he could let it slide.
Chad seemed to share his thoughts. “Right. I see. Sorry for being presumptuous, Abarai.” He nodded sincerely and let the blanket fall back into place, at the same time Renji sat down again while muttering, “Damn well should be…” under his breath.
Orihime paid no mind to the exchange and lit up at Rukia. “Ichika? Oh! What a lovely name! Like the flower, right?”
Renji’s jubilant demeanor promptly returned. “Right! Exactly! Thank you, Inoue!” he commended her while haughtily raising one tattooed eyebrow at Chad as if to say “Why can’t you be like her?” Chad wisely ignored this.
“We thought…since you all embroidered strawberry flowers on my wedding veil, well…” Rukia smiled fondly and looked down at her lap. “It just seemed appropriate. Both the meaning of the flower, and in honor of all you’ve done for us.” Beside her, Renji nodded proudly.
To the surprise of no one, Orihime’s waterworks were going full blast now.
“Well, that makes sense,” Ichigo laughed and scratched his head, “But for a second there I thought you named her after me.”
The bed creaked and Renji and Rukia both looked around at him with identical disbelieving stares. “Why the hell would we do that?” Renji asked incredulously.
Ichigo stared back, feeling one eyebrow start to twitch. “Because people name their kids after friends all the time! And what’s wrong with naming a kid after me?” he asked, annoyed.
“Not my kid!” Renji shot back. “You can go ‘an name your own kid after yourself.”
“Maybe I will!”
The argument didn’t get any further than this because right then Ichika decided it was the perfect moment to interrupt them with a grumpy whine and squirm awake in Orihime’s arms. All attentions drew back to her as her little balled fists broke free from the blanket with a jerky stretch and she gave the biggest yawn her small toothless mouth could muster. When her large round eyes fluttered open Ichigo saw that, once again, Byakuya was right: They were the same deep indigo violet as Rukia’s.
The tears stopped flowing and Orihime blinked down at the infant. “Hello, Ichika-chan.” she said softly.
Ichika blinked right back at Orihime and attempted to stare at her. It was a valiant effort, but with how blank and unfocused her eyes remained no matter where she moved them it was more like she was aiming her pupils in a general upward direction than actually staring. Then she frowned and wriggled a little as if she was checking for something. When she finally seemed to realize the person holding her was not one of her parents, Ichika’s tiny face suddenly screwed up and she began to wail. Loudly.
Caught off guard and not entirely sure what to do, Orihime stiffened. Her large brown eyes darted wildly from side to side.
“Um…there, there. Shhhhh. It’s okay, Ichika-chan,” she whispered and tried rocking her the way she’d seen Rukia do it earlier. From what Ichigo could tell it was a perfect imitation yet it didn’t seem to do anything. Ichika’s piercing screeches continued ringing out, to the dismay of everyone’s eardrums.
Renji sprang out of the chair and practically vaulted over the bed to get to the screaming baby. Shoving Ichigo and Chad aside (with a little more roughness than called for), he scooped her out of Orihime’s arms and started parading around the room with some kind of weird skipping trot to his gait. “Oi, Ichika! Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Daddy’s here! See? You’re fine!” he chanted with gusto as he rocked her.
To everyone’s astonishment, Ichika went silent almost immediately.
Trying to wrap his brain around what he was witnessing as Renji gamboled back and forth, Ichigo raised one eyebrow and looked at Rukia. She shrugged and crossed her arms with a languid shake of her head. “She likes it when he does that. We have no idea why, but it’s the only thing that’ll get her to stop crying.”
“Ah.” Ichigo felt it best not to ask how they found that out in only a few hours.
“Uh, Rukia, I think she’s actually hungry now.” Renji had finished his little cantering routine and returned to his spot beside the bed. Now that he was completely still, they could see how comically massive Renji was compared to his daughter…she was small enough for her tiny body to fit comfortably in one of his hands. (Three for three, Uncle Byakuya)
“Is she? Finally. Give her here.” Rukia held out her arms and began talking in her weird high-pitched mush-mouth speech again once she had ahold of Ichika, “Are you hungry, Ichika? Do you want to eat? Okay. Let’s get you fed.” With Ichika tucked securely in the crook of one elbow she reached for her collar but hesitated when she noticed Ichigo and Chad were still watching. Her face reddened. “D-do you mind?” she stammered, refusing to look either one in the eye.
They hastily whipped around.
“Oi, Rukia, do you have to do that now?” Ichigo’s cheeks burned, out of the corner of his vision he could see Chad’s visible eye widen as he shifted his weight. “Can’t you hold off until-”
“My child is hungry now so I am feeding her now, you imbecile!” came her irate (normal) voice from behind them, “If you have a problem with it, you are more than welcome to leave!”
After a moment’s hesitation, Ichigo stiffly shook his head and Chad muttered, “No…no problem.”
“S’alright. You can turn around now.” Renji sounded like he was trying very hard to restrain himself from laughing.
When they did so Ichigo was thankful to discover that Renji, despite his overt amusement with the situation, had thoughtfully planted himself on the bed between them and Rukia to act as a sort of living privacy screen. He leaned forward with one arm on his knees and gave Ichigo an incredulous look. “What, you’re not used to it by now?”
“No, I’m not! Everyone who’s ever given birth in the clinic went straight to the hospital after.”
“I ain’t talkin’ about that, ya dumbass.” Renji rolled his eyes and lowered his voice. “You’ve seen Inoue in less, right? So how’s this,” he jerked his thumb back at Rukia, “botherin’ ya?”
“Well, yeah, but…I MEAN-” Ichigo clamped his mouth shut and mentally cursed himself. Renji wasn’t supposed to be aware of that little detail about his and Orihime’s relationship. In fact, seeing as it had only happened a few times so far and they’d agreed to keep it between the two of them for the present, he had no idea how anyone would manage to figure it out for themselves…and judging by the genuinely surprised look he was giving him, even Chad had been completely oblivious until that moment. The only possible way Renji could know was if he’d said something that gave it away it in casual conversation without realizing. Either that or Renji was more observant than he’d been giving him credit for all these years.
Attempting to shrug off his massive slip-up, Ichigo closed his eyes for a few moments and calmly replied, “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s not my girlfriend. I don’t want to see any part of her I don’t have to.”
“Well, I’ll give ya credit for bein’ faithful.” Renji lolled his head around slightly to address Orihime, who was still far too busy fawning over the baby to pay attention to him, “Ya got lucky, Inoue. Mosta the guys I know would-“
“Would you leave Orihime out of this already? She doesn’t deserve to be lumped in with any of your dirty nonsense!” Ichigo snapped, protective instincts kicking into overdrive now that Orihime had been directly involved.
Sensing this, Renji snorted and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever ya say.” Orihime looked up and blinked at both of them in confusion.
“Ichigo!” exclaimed Rukia suddenly, most of her still hidden from view behind Renji, “What did you do to your hair?”
He knew she couldn’t see his eyes but that didn’t stop Ichigo from rolling them anyway. “What, you just noticed that?”
“I’ve been a bit preoccupied by other things today, or did you not notice that?” she answered dryly.
Orihime smiled eagerly at Rukia. “It looks nice, doesn’t it?”
Rukia was noticeably silent before she answered haltingly, “Uh…sure, I guess.”
Seeing Orihime’s face fall slightly at Rukia’s not-so-enthusiastic response, Ichigo reassured her with a nonchalant wave of his hand, “Eh, don’t bother asking her opinion on this one, Orihime. She clearly prefers long hair on guys.” He looked pointedly at Renji.
“Damn straight she does,” Renji smirked proudly with a flourished twirl to his waist-length scarlet mane.
“N-not true! You just…happen to have long hair. That’s all!” Rukia argued back hastily.
Even though she was fooling absolutely no one with that transparent claim, Renji still found it necessary to lean his head back at her and drawl wryly, “Oho? Then why’d I remember ya sayin’ somethin’ ‘bout my hair ‘an new uniform makin’ me irresistible the night we-“
“RENJI!” Rukia snapped at him in warning, sounding far too frantic for someone claiming they never thought or said anything of the sort.
He heeded her admonition and said no more about “that night” but since she couldn’t see him, Renji glanced at each human in turn and smugly mouthed, “She loves it,” while gesturing to his hair.
A croaked gurgle sounded from Ichika and signaled feeding time was over. Renji turned and took her from Rukia while she put her clothing back into place. This time, Ichigo and Chad respectfully averted their gazes to the ceiling until a soft cough from Orihime signaled it was safe to look back.
They watched with some fascination as Renji slung a small blue towel Rukia handed him over his shoulder and started gently patting Ichika on the back when he had her settled upright against it. Though “tapping” was a more accurate way of describing it since he could only fit two of his fingers on her tiny back.
For anyone who had fought alongside Renji in battle (or fought him directly), this was a strange sight…the same guy they’d witnessed punch through walls and chuck his enemies almost a football field away with those massive powerful hands of his, now using them to handle this delicate little baby as softly as if she were made of spun sugar.
Ichigo didn’t realize he was staring until Renji looked at him strangely and grunted, “What?” Shortly after, Ichika let out a quiet burp.
“Nothing. You just…actually look like a dad right now,” he admitted with a casual shrug. Renji raised an eyebrow questioningly. Ichigo could tell he was putting on a face as blankly dull as he could make, however when he laid Ichika over his arm to re-adjust her wrappings and gently brushed his hand over her wispy red hair he was no longer able to hold back the proud smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
As if this suddenly jogged her memory, Orihime gasped and jumped up off the bed. “Oh! Renji-kun, could you bring her here and sit next to Rukia-san? I promised Ishida-kun I’d send pictures since he couldn’t come.” She produced her phone from her jacket pocket and backed away several paces.
Nodding cheerfully, Renji took her vacant spot and reached around Rukia to pull her close until he had both his girls securely gathered up into one big family cuddle. Startled and visibly annoyed by Renji’s spontaneous act of physical affection (in front of their friends, no less) Rukia immediately whipped her head up and tried to shoot him a Look. One tender smile and a loving squeeze to her elbow from him, however, and she was soon quietly snuggled into the embrace, even relenting enough to lay her head on his chest. Ichika proceeded to fall back asleep in the warm nest of her parents’ entwined arms.
While Orihime held up her phone and told them to say a bunch of nonsense words before taking the picture, Chad leaned over to Ichigo with a low hum and commented, “They’re a good looking family, huh?”
“Yeah.” Ichigo nodded and watched Orihime snap multiple shots. “They really are, I gotta admit.”
Chad regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “I wonder…” he paused and glanced over at Orihime, sitting happily with Renji and Rukia as the three of them admired the batch of photos she’d just taken.
Ichigo eyed him suspiciously. “…What?”
Chad smiled and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Oh, nothing.”
Ichigo knew his friend well enough to recognize that type of smile meant it actually wasn’t nothing, but he was prevented from calling him out on it by the boisterous arrival of a group of all-too-familiar Shinigami. After dodging several tipsy greetings (and discreetly questioning why the hell so many of them were that drunk this early), the three human visitors decided it would be best to take their leave.
To be more precise, two of the human visitors decided it would be best to take their leave while working to persuade the reluctant third, as she kept prolonging her goodbyes in an effort to stay with the baby as long as possible.
“Come by any time you want! We’re off duty for the next three months!” Rukia called out as they walked out the door. With one last wave goodbye at Ichika, now buried within the midst of a new throng of admirers, Orihime gladly assured her they would.
The entire journey back through the Dangai, she could not stop talking about baby Ichika. And astonishingly, Byakuya now seemed openly keen to hear all the good things she had to say about his niece.
“I’ve never seen a tinier baby before! The way Renji-kun held her in his hand…it was so cute! And you were right, Byakuya-san, her eyes looked just like Rukia-san’s! So much of her looked just like Rukia-san! And Renji-kun, too.” Orihime sighed happily and gazed at the photos pulled up on her phone. “Oh, she’s going to be so pretty when she gets older! Don’t you think?” She looked up and addressed Byakuya directly with this question.
Byakuya nodded politely to her in agreement as she rambled on but once she switched her attention back to the photos, he turned slightly away and quietly sighed, “If she takes after her mother, ” under his breath.
Ichigo, being the only one who heard him say this, quickly stifled his laugh with a rough cough that sent his hell butterfly reeling and almost crashing antennae-first into the wall of the tunnel. Byakuya said nothing but shot him a subtle warning glare as it fluttered back into place.
The sky was starting to darken when they finally stepped back into the Living World as the doors closed on Byakuya’s retreating back and the small flock of butterflies that followed. Orihime was staying with the Kurosaki’s for dinner that night so Chad said his goodbyes as well and left them together outside of Ichigo’s house.
Ichigo surveyed Orihime, flushed from the cold and shivering slightly. Without thinking, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She looked up at him in surprise. “Oh, Ichigo-kun…I’m fine, really! But aren’t you going to be cold now?”
“Nah. I’ve got extra layers on,” Ichigo assured her, “besides, we’re going inside aren’t we? It won’t be for long”
“Ah, yes…you’re right.” Orihime smiled and held the jacket around herself. She really looked cute wearing his clothes, even if they were a little big on her. He couldn’t help the smile that broke out when he thought this, and actually almost didn’t notice he was doing it at first. If the way she bashfully bit her lip and pulled the jacket tighter was any indication, Orihime definitely noticed.
“Ichigo-kun?”
“Yeah?”
It was getting hard to see in the twilight but he could still make out the way Orihime pursed her lips and gazed at him with an expression that could only be described as hopeful. She started, “Seeing Ichika-chan…and seeing all of them together…it made me think…” Suddenly she blushed and turned away from him.
“What?” Ichigo asked, genuinely interested to hear what she was going to say.
After a moment, she hummed softly and tried again.
“Ah, it’s just that…Renji-kun and Rukia-san seemed a bit different. But it wasn’t in a bad way. Even for Renji-kun,” Orihime murmured thoughtfully. She laughed a bit and looked back up at him. “Becoming a parent really changes you, huh?”
The memories of Rukia cooing and fussing over her daughter and Renji frolicking about like some giant red and black rabbit played back in his mind, much like the movie they were supposed to see that day.
“Yeah,” Ichigo snorted rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, “But don’t worry, Orihime. I don’t think we’ll change too much. I swear I’m not gonna get as dopey as Renji. Or my old man. And you’re already kind of the mothering type, right? At least Karin and Yuzu seem to think that. So you won’t be too different, either. Although…”
He trailed off. Orihime’s mouth had dropped wide open and she was staring at him in shock.
Automatically fearing he’d said the wrong thing, Ichigo frantically scrambled to think of a way to fix it when he realized it wasn’t what he said, it was the implication of what he said that his girlfriend was reacting to.
Because he had just insinuated he was certain they would have children together in the future.
Nearby, the streetlamps had started flickering on. Ichigo felt his face flare up right along with them and this time he was the one blushing and turning away from her. With a loud cough, he attempted to pull himself together and ended up awkwardly stammering out, “Oh…uh…I…that was…I just…”
“Do you really mean that?”
Caught off guard by her question, Ichigo froze. He knew by her tone of voice she wasn’t talking about believing parenthood wouldn’t change them. But did he really have an answer for what she was asking him? And if he did, was it too soon? What should he say to her? He didn’t know any of these things. Yet something compelled him to address it in some way and so, slowly, he turned back around to face her.
Orihime was staring at the ground now, shyly twisting the ends of her long silky hair in the fingers of one hand while keeping his jacket in place with the other. The bright streetlamps made it much easier to see and the more he looked, the more they cast her in an ethereal glow and gave her the extraordinary appearance of a being emanating pure light. Or that could have been because on her face there was a smile: The same soft shining smile she wore when she looked so beautiful and peaceful cradling Ichika in her arms.
In that instant, he was sure.
Ichigo took a deep breath.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
Author’s Notes: Orihime...what can I say about her? Such a loving caring sweetheart. XD I do have a lot of fun writing characters with snark and sass but it’s always nice to write characters who don’t have a mean bone in their body. I have no doubt that in canon she was genuinely excited and happy for her friends and fell in love with Ichika the moment she met her. And yes I do believe each couple had met the other’s kid at some point before chapter 686. It was just the children themselves had never met each other since Ichika had obviously never been to the Living World (Rukia’s comment on how she’d been given “special permission” to come to the Living World now that she was a Shinigami Apprentice) and Ichigo and Orihime had probably never taken Kazui to Soul Society since he was so young.
Renji and Rukia were probably a little awkward and clumsy as parents at first since they most likely had no experience with infants (or if they had, it’d been a while) but I have no doubt they quickly got the hang of it.
That’s all, folks! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this little passion project of mine. Please feel free to share/reblog/leave comments+suggestions. :)
INDEX
COVER
PART I - The Reception
PART II - The Threshold
PART III - The Culmination
PART IV - The Issue
PART V - The Denial
PART VI - The Relay
PART VII - The Wait
PART VIII - The Delivery
#IchiHime#RenRuki#tapfic#tapart#FOREVER BElonging WITH YOU#*COLLAPSES*#holy baloney it's done#T_T#I may go back and tweak things after the novels are translated but this is how it is for now#And with that tap is off to bed
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