THREE'S A CROWD — [preview].
![THREE'S A CROWD — [preview].](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9c18dae8833837e2f97a88a5a464bd1c/7767116202cf635b-be/s500x750/f0075dce1495580d3e5b786de93cad6699d753da.png)
THREE'S A CROWD — [preview].
SYNOPSIS. three of your friends fight for your affection, totally not because they like you— but simply because they can’t stand the idea of you liking someone else.
![THREE'S A CROWD — [preview].](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e82872895822279007e3566e51a67d68/7767116202cf635b-a8/s500x750/41a793c0aedccf372e0d81c808f7af462cd5a234.png)
PAIRINGS. jung sungchan, park wonbin, hong seunghan x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, rom-com, reverse harem, just a bunch of arrogant and silly little boys in denial, a collection of italicized oh moments in succession, featuring the rest of riize and nct. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mild possessiveness, so much petty and childish behavior, drinking, breaking and entering, may add more in the full fic. WORD COUNT. preview: 3.2k | full fic: est. 15-18k.
RELEASE DATE. november to december. TAGLIST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.
NOTE. i said i'd do it. so i did. i am. and i'm having so much fun writing another shitstorm of a harem so i hope you find this as fun as i do HAHAHHAHA. sick and tired of seeing nothing but smut under the riize x reader tag so here is my contribution to society. you're welcome.
preview under the cut.
THERE ARE CURRENTLY THREE HEADS IN THE MALE DORMITORY LOUNGE. One is Sungchan, tinkering with the foosball table by himself because the other two heads are refusing to play with him. Second is Wonbin laid comfortably on the couch, headphones on and using his lap as a drum set. Last is Seunghan, on the floor for some reason, and eyes trained intently on his phone with his thumbs tapping on the screen like a madman.
The number gets added when Sohee rushes in from the front door, a large McDonald’s paper bag in hand and four large cups of soda in the other. “Order’s here!” he announces. The three heads quickly pop up from their respective businesses and congregate to the dining corner of the room.
“Fuck,” Sungchan groans, following the scent of the warm, freshly cooked mcnuggets on the table. The other three are already seated and poking holes in their soda cups. Sungchan is still groaning like a zombie. The two open nugget boxes are enticing him. He won’t . He must not. “I can’t eat. I forgot I had dinner plans tonight.”
“With a girl?” Sohee asks. The number of nuggets is depleting by the second. If the rest of the guys come down, there will be none left for him.
“Yes,” Sungchan replies. He swallows hard. Wonbin takes the boot shaped chicken right before his very eyes. This is torture.
Seunghan scrunches his nose, mid-nugget. “Boo. You whore. It’s guys night. How can you do this to us?”
“A few nuggets can’t hurt,” says Wonbin. He pokes the box closer to Sungchan.
“You’re right. Move over.”
They snort at his flimsy conviction. Sungchan argues that he is simply experiencing the delicacies of both the east and the west tonight. You’re supposed to have Japanese with him tonight. There is nothing wrong with cross-cultural enjoyment. He is simply diversifying his palate.
“So, is it a date?” asks Seunghan.
“No. I’m just eating out with a friend.”
“Just the two of you?”
Wonbin raises a brow with the question. Sungchan counts the numbers in his head. “Yeah.” If he eats another nugget, then that would make it five. Five can be counted with only one hand. That isn’t a lot. This is fine.
“Oh man,” Sohee snickers. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s a date.”
“No way!” he defends, the fifth and final nugget stuffed in his mouth. Sungchan swallows before continuing, wiping his hand on the pile of tissue papers on the table. “It’s not a date. I mean, she did tell me that she has a little crush on me, but it’s not a date.”
The three don’t miss the slight curl of his lips— a bastard’s sly grin. It’s a date. It’s definitely a date. Seunghan gives him a hard smack on the back. “The girl has a crush on you, how is it not a date, you piece of shit?”
“Ow! Hey!” he glares at him. “It really isn’t! We even had a whole talk we’re keeping it strictly platonic. I’m not interested in her in that way and she knows that. I’m not doing anything wrong here!”
There’s both disappointment and judgment in Wonbin’s face. “Quit leading her on.”
Sungchan gasps. “I’m not!”
“Who is it anyway?” Sohee asks right before taking an obnoxious sip on his soda. “Maybe I know her.”
“Well, I doubt it,” he starts. “I’m pretty sure you guys don’t know her, but she’s—”
Your name stumbles out of Sungchan’s mouth. It falls quiet, save for Sungchan’s explanation that he met you through the soccer team’s captain, Nakamoto Yuta, and that he’s known you for around half a year now. You’re in different majors, but it turns out you have quite a lot of friends from his team, so you bump into each other a lot. Sungchan knew about your crush on him early into your acquaintanceship— which is why having dinner with you and just you isn’t, “and shouldn’t be that big of a deal! It’s not a date. Seriously.”
“Okay, it’s not a date,” Sohee relents. Sungchan nods proudly at his victory.
“Yes. It is not.”
“But you know what’s funny—” Sohee’s eyes move to Seunghan. “The girl you told me about has the same name. What a coincidence.”
Seunghan is sitting on the table like a mound of stone. He’s got a half-eaten nugget in his hands. He’s not putting it in his mouth. “That’s right,” he simply says. There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “That is pretty funny. What a coincidence.” Coincidence, Seunghan repeats in his head. Yes. It must be a coincidence. He nods to himself and throws the nugget remnants into his mouth, satisfied with that conclusion.
“What girl?” Wonbin rouses. Seunghan turns his head to him sharply.
“Oh,” he says. “A friend from highschool.”
“A friend that’s had feelings for him since highschool,” Sohee grins. “You said she was pretty. Why didn’t you two start dating?”
Is this the chicken’s fault? Why the heck does everything keep circling back to dating? “I don’t know. I’ve just never seen her in that light,” Seunghan explains. He doesn’t know why he’s getting riled up, but he is. “And just because someone confessed to you doesn’t mean they want to start dating. Dude, I feel like you’re the one that should go and find a date. Being single is getting to your head.”
Seunghan has been friends with you since eleventh grade, being classmates and all. You confessed to him early into grade twelve, and even though he didn’t return your feelings, it was never awkward because you never acted differently. In fact, sometimes he second guesses if it actually happened. Just a few days ago, he asked if you still like him to confirm. All you said was, “yeah, why?” and continued working on your assignment. That’s why sometimes he forgets. That’s why it’s not worth bringing up.
Until now, when your name suddenly keeps popping up. Wonbin utters the same. Seunghan and Sungchan’s head quickly snap towards him. “You guys aren’t talking about SM-ARTS Chairperson, right?”
SM-ARTS is an art organization in your university. It’s been a well known org since its foundation— half because of its achievements, half because of its stupid (smart) name. “That’s...yes, that is her.” Seunghan gets a bad feeling. A really bad fucking feeling, and it’s not just having too much unhealthy chicken nuggets from McDonald’s. “Why? Do you also know her?”
“Of course I do. I’m literally her Vice Chair,” Wonbin furrows his brows. This is strange. He’s been working with you since the beginning of the year and you’ve never mentioned a Jung Sungchan nor a Hong Seunghan before. What’s even stranger is their assertions that you have feelings for them. You. For them. It’s a ridiculous thought to entertain because, “she literally told me that he has a crush on me. What are you two talking about?”
Wonbin couldn’t get a more direct confession than yours. It’s typical for the rest of your org officers and members to tease the both of you— the snickers and hollers when you’d call him to discuss something in private, the teasing saying you two look good together. Hell, some of the kids even call you both mom and dad and it’s gone to the point where he’s told them off to quit it because you might be uncomfortable. But you’d always say, “it’s fine,” and “you didn’t mind,” with a sweet smile on your face. Now, he’s no stranger to those insinuations, and for the sake of your professional relationship, he needed your denial or agreement.
Turns out, you do have a crush on him.
So this has become very, very awkward.
“Maybe—” Sungchan stammers. “Maybe...maybe we’re each talking about a different person, maybe there’s actually three different— oh, hey. What are you doing here?”
Speak of the devil and she shall appear.
“Hey!”
The sound of your voice bouncing around the male dormitory walls feel foreign and jarring, especially after the conversation that had just transpired. You set down your bag on their couch, walking up to them with a bright smile that doesn’t match their vibe at all.
There’s tension in the air. A very thick and palpable tension and the three are exchanging glances and looks as if to say, ‘Go on. Go say hi to her first if she’s the girl you’ve been talking about.’
But you beat them to it. “Wow. I didn’t think you three knew each other!” you exclaim, skipping over to the dining corner where you find yourself in the gap between Sungchan and Seunghan. The two flinch at the closeness of your presence. Wonbin tightens his jaw. “Anyway, is Shotaro around? I need to talk to him about our trip this weekend, but he’s not replying.”
“He’s in his room. Upstairs. Fourth floor.”
It’s not a competition, but hearing how quickly the response falls out of Wonbin’s lips sure does makes it seem like it is. Sungchan has his mouth open, gives Wonbin a look, before closing it again. Seunghan never even got the chance, and Sohee is looking at the scene unfold like it’s a goddamned trashy movie.
“Great, thanks!” you beam. “Oh, and we’re still up for dinner tonight, right?”
They can’t go for another speed contest because the question is reserved for one person only— Sungchan, who seems to be caught off guard. “Yeah. Absolutely,” he manages to squeeze out. You smile.
“Sweet. Wonbin, have you prepared the documents I asked for tomorrow’s meeting?”
It’s like a question carousel. “I’ll send them later for you to review.”
“Perfect! Right, and Seunghan—” There goes another rotation. “Mind driving me to the reunion this Friday? Jaeha bailed on me at the last minute, that son of a bitch.”
Seunghan blinks at you, in a daze. “Sure.”
“Nice! And you—”
Your attention lands on the last person at the table. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan didn’t expect you to even entertain him. “Sohee,” their friend fills in, a little taken aback. You flash him a bright grin.
“Sohee! Nice to meet you! Love your necklace. Very chic.”
For some reason the smile on Sohee’s face is annoying to the other three boys. “Thanks!” he says. “Have a nugget before you go.” They didn’t think it was possible, but somehow your face glows even brighter and you lean down, still between Seunghan and Sungchan, to pick up a piece from the box.
“Thought you guys would never offer. Thank you! I’ll see you around!”
With that you disappear up the stairs, and you take all the noise and the life in the room with you. It’s quiet. So quiet— almost like there’s a standoff. That is until Sohee clears his throat, still pink from the compliment you gave him, and says, “Well. Seems like she’s the same person.”
No fucking shit, she’s the same person. They can’t keep making excuses anymore.
Seunghan tries to play it off with a laugh. “I can’t believe you guys would lie and joke about her having a crush on you.” His laugh isn’t well taken by the other two. It spirals down to shit all too quickly.
“What do you mean ‘lie’?” Wonbin narrows his eyes.
Sungchan hollers in. “Yeah, if anything, you’re the one that’s lying! You and him both!”
“Why would I lie?!” Seunghan protests.
“I don’t know— maybe because you’re jealous that she likes me and not either of you?”
Before they can start throwing fists, Sohee interrupts by making himself the collective target. “Have you guys considered,” he starts, hands solemnly pressed together above the crumb littered table. “That she might have a tinge of feelings for all three of you? Not just one?”
They pause in consideration. It takes them five seconds to brush him off.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“No way.”
“Why would she?”
Sohee sighs and gives up. He hears a set of footsteps rushing down and hopes it’s you, so that his three friends would finally quit it. It is you, and Sohee lifts up. Your timing is impeccable. He’s almost convinced you’ve been listening the whole time.
“Hey,” you greet them once again, flashing a smile once, before going off to retrieve your bag from the couch. The three quiet down instantaneously and have resigned to glaring at each other in seething silence. Seunghan isn’t very good at glaring at people, so he reorganizes his strategy instead.
“How’s the thing with Taro hyung?” he asks, twisting his chair to face you better. Sungchan and Wonbin give him a dirty look. That bastard. He’s even considering body language into play.
“Oh! The trip is canceled.” You sling your bag over your shoulder. “So my Sunday has been cleared. Do you guys want to make plans?”
Crap.
You just tossed them a bone.
Sohee is sure this isn’t gonna end pretty.
“Why don’t we go on a date?”
All eyes are wide. Their heads snap in the direction of Wonbin— the fast bastard. His expression is nonchalant, but his shaking knee from under the table says otherwise. “There’s a contemporary art exhibit opening downtown. Let’s check it out together,” This bitch, Sungchan’s expression seems to say. Seunghan’s disappointment seeps through the air.
“Like. A date, date?” you confirm, eyes batting expectantly, as if you have a barrier against the palpably sour and rotten mood flooding the room in ominous swirls.
“Yeah,” Wonbin confirms. He’s lucky you’re too far away to notice the sweat dripping down his neck. “Is...is that a problem? You said you liked me. Why don’t we give it a shot?”
All hell breaks loose the moment you entertain them with flustered cheeks and a shy smile.
“No! Don’t go!” Sungchan’s had it. He can’t take this anymore. “If there’s anyone you should be going out with, it should be me! You like me! Not them!”
Seunghan has left his seat and has scrambled over to you. Wonbin and Sungchan’s eyes widen. They aren’t letting him do this. They quickly follow suit but Seunghan already has a firm hold on your arms and is looking deep into your eyes. He’s put up an invisible barrier. Fuck, that sneaky bastard.
“Were you actually serious when you said that you had a crush on me since eleventh grade?” His voice cracks. If he’s trying to tap into your pity, then it’s definitely fucking working. “But why are these two saying you like them? What about us?! Am I nothing to y—”
Your index finger finds its way over Seunghan’s lips. Silence befalls. Your blank face settles into a sound smile.
“Well,” you pry Seunghan’s hands off you, still smiling pleasantly at all of them. What is this ominous feeling? Why doesn’t it seem like you’re actually smiling at them? “As far as I remember, none of you returned my confessions.”
It’s like a hammer hits all three of them at once.
“And I still like you Seunghan. We literally talked about it the other day.” You gave him a two word answer then brushed him off your essay. That was hardly a conversation. Seunghan feels wronged beyond words.
“How—how about me?”
You look over to Sungchan, who looks arguably like a kicked puppy. “What about you?”
“Well,” he clears his throat, a faint blush coating his ears. “Do you still, uh, have feelings for me too, or—”
“Sungchan, do you think I’d have kept asking you to have dinner alone with me every week if I didn’t like you?” He blinks. Beside him, Wonbin points a finger to himself. You let out a breath. “I’d be blind and tasteless if I wasn’t into you, Wonbin. Especially after working closely together since the beginning of the year. Why are you guys asking me this?”
Sohee has stopped liking all these ominous periods of silence because they’re signs that even more chaos is about to ensue. His three friends’ eyes look empty and hollow as they stare at you. Oh god, they’re far gone.
“So,” Wonbin starts.
“You like us,” Seunghan follows.
“Like all three of us,” Sungchan finishes.
You give them a smile reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher feeling a swell of pride after her student finishes reciting the alphabet. Sohee feels sympathy pains for his friends. “Yup. I also have a crush on Johnny from med, but he’s graduating soon, so that’s a bummer. Oh! And our TA Jung Jaehyun! He has the face of a god!” Oh, dear. You stomp on them then finish it off with a spit on their faces. Sohee bites his lip, feeling both horrendously bad and curious as to how this shitshow will conclude.
The three simmer in silence. You give them a raised brow.
“Why? Is there a problem?”
Oh, there’s a fucking problem, alright.
“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I did confess to all three of you saying I have a crush on you, but I never said I was in love with you.”
Well, damn.
Neither of them like you like that, but that shit hurt for no fucking reason.
“Don’t think too much of it, sillies! And I don’t get why you’re all so affected when you’re the ones who didn’t return my feelings.”
Your laughter is poison and your smiling face is tearing them apart. You’re heartless. You’re a devil disguised as an angel. You’re from the deepest depths of hell and have come to earth for the sole reason of tooth-achingly sweet and strawberry scented torment. If they can fall to their knees right now, they would, but their pride is tattered enough already— ripped to shreds by your unapologetic bluntness and honesty.
“Anyway, since I already have plans with the three of you within the week, Sungchan’s later this evening—” The man in question is pouting. He’s pouting very hard when your eyes skip over him, and zones into the person that’s been quiet this entire time. “Sohee! Wanna go bowling with me and my bio friends this Sunday?”
That was a bomb. A large and dangerous bomb. “Sure?” Sohee responds unknowingly. You give them one last sweet smile of torture before finally leaving.
“Great! Get my number from any of them. I have to go meet some people. Later! Thanks for the snack!”
With that, you leave them behind, but not without a trace of disaster. Once they’ve confirmed you’re gone and out, signaved by the tight shutting of the door, Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan look at each other. Then at Sohee. Then back at the closed door once more.
It’s quiet again. They don’t need to talk to settle with three mutual conclusions.
One. Sohee isn’t getting shit after the emotional massacre they went through. He can go crawl and scavenger for your number elsewhere for all they care.
Two. There’s no doubt. They all know you and you all know them. This is something they can’t ignore anymore, so they have to figure out how to behave in case a run in like this happens again,
And three—
You like them. All three of them. At the same time.
Their pride can’t stand the idea of sharing that affection. Absolutely not. Therefore three must drop down to one. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan are dead set on making sure that that one is going to be him.
THREE'S A CROWD. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
More Posts from Seoksoop and Others
i ❤️ hot nerds (l.dh, n.jm) — preview
PAIRING. pervert!nerd!haechan, pervert!nerd!jaemin x popular!fem!reader GENRE. smut, slight fluff CONTENTS. explicit smut (kissing, fingering, oral (receiving), titfucking, breast play, lots of drool and spit, overstimulation, snowballing, dirty talk, rimming, anal play, missionary, riding, mating press, breeding/creampies) WORD COUNT. 8.7k; teaser wc: 525 words SUMMARY. when your professor pairs you with the two smartest students in your class for a group project, you find yourself making an interesting deal with them. or, alternatively: the one where you have to help two nerds learn to get girls so you can pass your class. PLAYLIST. n/a NOTES. remember when i said i was up to something with these two? this is it! the full fic is already posted on my patreon here, and i’ll be posting it in full to tumblr on september 30th!
“You don’t get it—we need to be fuckable!” Haechan stresses, and you roll your eyes in exasperation.
“Haechan, you’re already fuckable.” you explain calmly, and he opens his mouth in preparation for some witty remark, but after processing your words, his eyes widen and his mouth hangs open uselessly, his accusingly pointed finger now pointing meekly at the floor at an angle.
“I—So—so you would fuck us?” he stammers, and you nod slowly, looking from him to Jaemin.
“Why do you think I let you get away with your numerous dorm violations?” you snort in amusement, and he blinks hard.
“I thought you just took pity on us, y’know? Like you had a soft spot for nerds or something.”
“I don’t have a soft spot for nerds.” you answer. “I have a soft spot for hot nerds, though.”
His mouth opens and closes pathetically as his normally quick-witted brain scrambles to process the information you’ve just presented to him. Jaemin is quicker to act, sitting forward so suddenly the move could be considered as predatory, and you’re not sure if it’s the lighting reflecting off of his glasses or what, but there is most definitely a glint in his eye as he regards you, his lips gradually stretching into a toothy grin.
“So you let us get away with stuff? Because you like us? Like what?” he questions, and you tilt your head to the side as you think.
“Your candles, for starters. Haechan’s tapestry, your many many noise complaints from your neighbors when you two get too heated as you’re gaming,” you start to list off on your fingers, and you cross one leg over the other, not missing the way both of their eyes shift to your newly exposed skin and how… hungry they look. “The way you—” you point at Haechan, “always try to get away with looking up my skirt.”
Haechan’s face flushes a pretty shade of red, and you smile, amused, as he scrambles to defend himself. Before he can, you hold up a hand to silence him.
“Haechan?”
“Yes?” he replies meekly.
“If I minded, I would have said something by now. I certainly wouldn’t have kept wearing skirts and accidentally flashing you.”
His eyes roll back into his head with a whimper and he nods in understanding.
“And you—” you round on Jaemin, who’s still perched like a lion about to pounce, and the male just smiles wider, tilting his head to the side curiously.
“What about me?”
“You probably think you’re slick with the little lingering touches on my back and waist when you’re ‘trying to get by,’ but I only let you do that because I like it.”
His grin widens more than you even thought possible, the glint in his eye now unmistakable. “Oh, yeah? Where else do you like being touched?”
“I mean,” you hum, uncrossing your thighs and smiling as both of their gazes hone in on the space between your legs, “I could tell you, but I think you’d rather have me show you.”
“I have a better idea,” Jaemin murmurs, moving towards you slowly. “How about you let us find out?”
reminder that the full fic is already posted on my patreon if you don't want to wait!
summary. in which, your boyfriend offers to give you a brazilian wax when you’re too scared to do it yourself
pairings. jeonghan x reader (f)
genre. fluff, established relationship
warnings. brief mentions of insecurities, mentions of past sex between reader and jeonghan ofc, photography lol, also not proofread cus i’m lazy
notes. this is dedicated to @sleeping-sirens c: hehe enjoy this !! a haechan one is in the works !!
masterlist
—
“love, what’s wrong?” jeonghan asks you, watching you sigh at your phone for the thousandth time in the thirty minutes.
you hum in question, not being able to hear what he was saying as you were too focused reading a link you found, trailing your eyes off your screen to look at your boyfriend.
“i asked what was wrong and you’re frowning,” he points out, also wearing a frown since you were.
you shake your head, turning your phone off and placing it down beside you. “i’m reading how to wax your own vagina.” you admit, sighing once again.
“huh?” his lips part slightly and his eyes widened.
“i’m too scared to go to a waxer and have a stranger stare at my vagina. like i tried already, i drove my ass there but i couldn’t get out of my car cause i was too scared. so i’m just trying to see if i can do it myself–“
jeonghan pauses his show on the tv before turning his body to face you. his hands reach out to grasp your upper arm and rub it up and down soothingly.
“hey, hey, baby you’re talking fast. it’s okay.” he calms you down.
the corners of your lips curve upwards in a small smile. “sorry.” you apologize.
“you don’t need to apologize baby,” he assured you. “does it seem easy?”
you tilt your head at him, confused on what he’s asking.
“the waxing–what did you read?” he answers your thoughts.
you blink. “oh, uhm, yeah it seems easy. i’m just scared to inflict pain on myself and i don’t know if i’ll be able to see everything.”
he nods, understanding your point of view before he responds with something you were not expecting.
“let me wax you.” he says, seriousness written all over his face.
the crease between your brows softened. “what?”
“let me wax you.” he repeats himself.
in all your years of knowing jeonghan and then dating him for two, he has never judged you or acted weird about anything that concerned your body. instead, always meeting you at the same wavelength of excitement and curiosity.
jeonghan has seen every crevice and cracks on your body, regarding the intimate nights, taking showers together, or just changing in front of each other. you’ve explored it all. you hold a lot of trust for this man, which is why you didn’t have any difficulties saying yes.
—
“how long are you gonna watch that video?” you whine out, slumped body resting against the couch as you watched your personal waxer for today stare at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration.
“baby, i’m watching this so i don’t hurt you.” he sternly tells you, eyes never leaving the screen until the video shortly ends.
you slump in your seat, muttering an “i know”.
he stands up from the couch, grabbing the folded towel and sprawling it out neatly on the floor beside you. “someone sounds eager for their boyfriend to wax their pussy.” he teases you, kneeling down next to the wax heater, stirring it in circles with the wooden stick.
you extend your foot out to lightly kick his arm. “shut up,” you huff.
he softly giggles, his cheek bones sitting prettily below his crescent shaped eyes. “i’m just teasing, baby.”
you’re lying on the towel hannie has laid out for you, one of his shirts swallows your body and the lose fabric rides down your thighs, exposing your underwear and legs.
he taps the bare skin just below your butt. you lift your hips up as he tugs at the lace and tossing them behind him.
“this is different– me taking off your underwear and i’m not about to eat you out.”
the palm of your hand meets your face. “you’re about to be fired on your first day.”
he leans down for his lips to meet with your knee. his hands rubbing your shin.
he lets out a breath, “you ready?”
you blankly stare at the ceiling, a sudden wave of anxiety hits you because you realize your boyfriend, who you very much love and see a future with, will be sitting in front of your vagina ripping strips of hair out. you want to know what he’s thinking.
you lift your head up, your chin touching your collarbone as you meet eyes with him. “what’re you thinking right now?” you ask, taking your bottom lip in to nervously nibble on.
“i’m thinking that im just doing something for my girlfriend because i want to help her.” he answers your anxious mind.
you softly smile at him before your head hits the floor, relaxing your body. “okay im ready.”
“i love you.”
“i know.”
he scoops up a bit of the wax, swirling the stick in a circular motion and brings it over to you, he pokes your thighs to open your legs for him and his hand is hovering over your center.
you quickly close your legs. “wait!“
his face is deadpan.
“you sure you know what you’re doing–“
he with the stick still in his hand he forced your legs open. “if you ask me again one more time, you’re not getting waxed you’ll be getting fucked.” he exclaims while laughing, but you know he’s serious.
you groan, “okay, go.” your hands instinctively grabbing at the shirt that covers your upper half, clenching the cotton fabric tightly.
he mumbles quietly that he’s going to start, kissing your knee once more before you feel him spreading the wax on your sensitive skin. it was warm, an unusual but not an unfamiliar feeling yet it still had your face twist.
“ok it has to sit for about thirty seconds before i can pull it, how you doing?” again, jeonghan being attentive towards you and making sure you’re comfortable and observing how you’re feeling.
you nod, “good, actually.”
he grins happily at your response.
“ok i’m gonna pull now, sorry in advance baby.” he apologizes with a pout, already knowing the pain that can occur from waxing especially on the private areas.
you shake your head, anticipating the pain to come. “just go.” you urge.
he flicks up the end of the wax, holding it between his thumb and index finger. you bite your lip, clenching your shirt in your hands preparing yourself for the rip.
jeonghan takes a deep breath before he rips the wax off like a bandaid.
“ow! fuck!” you curse out, your eyes shut tight.
he presses his hand down on the skin, muttering apologies over and over until you open your eyes.
—
"you did good, hannie!" you compliment him.
he puts the hand mirror down and helps you to slide on your underwear, his hands stop right in the middle of your thighs.
you turn your head to stare at him. "what're you doing?"
you angle your legs so you're able to look at him and you find him gawking at your bare pussy.
"can i take a picture?" he asks.
you lift your head up. "what? for what?" you knew this wasn't just going to be a waxing session with your boyfriend. he's been practically drooling staring at your pussy. you wouldn’t be surprised if the man had a boner right now.
"i should take pictures of my progress no?" his lips quirked.
you drop your head with pursed lips, waving him away with your hand. "hurry up." he grins taking off your underwear again.
he reaches for his phone before hurrying over back to you. he mumbles to himself, not being able to catch what he said. with his phone still in his hand he grabs your shins and pushes your legs towards your chest, from his view your lips are slightly pushed together and puffed out. this position is extremely lewd and embarrassing with him being the only one fully clothed. you're very open to trying out jeonghan's sexual fantasies. taking inappropriate photos is not something new between the both of you and with a rule that they only stay between you two.
"hold your legs in the air for me baby," he instructs.
you do as he says, your feet in the air and your freshly waxed pussy exposed.
he takes a couple shots before tossing his phone on the couch. "fuck you're so sexy." crawling over you to connect his lips with yours and before you're able to cup the back of his neck and pull him in for more, he pulls away giving you a hand to sit up.
"if i kiss you longer i will cum in my pants and i read that you can't have sex for 24 hours after a brazilian wax." he tells you, his lips curved downward in a pout.
you roll your eyes, quickly sliding your panties back on. "what a loss." you sigh dramatically.
he narrows his eyes at you. "no, i don't care for that you meanie." he defends himself, flicking your forehead but not too harsh.
"kidding."
he cups the side of your face, his nose grazing yours as he peers into your eyes. "tomorrow night, you're mine though. i need a review and rating on how i did.”
another world [1]
after your boyfriend, peter parker, is killed by the green goblin, you take on the mantel of spiderwoman. a few years later, you're suddenly shoved into a multi-versal war after being called to another universe to help a (smaller) version of peter. a familiar face leaves you shaken.
PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x reader
CONTENT: NO WAY HOME SPOILERS!!!!!, mentions of suicide, angst angst angst angst, may parker deserves so much better and i apologize for putting her through this
WORD COUNT: 2.2k
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![Another World [1]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/454743e41c8b98ee8f771ad2c0ce20ed/11256c1e02c7a1e5-c2/s500x750/243e995afac2a7390aee3ecaaa71f86c425b9606.gif)
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Here lies Peter Parker. Beloved son.
We shall meet again.
[Y/N] stands over his grave. There's a chill in the air, autumn has finally taken New York. She shivers, her coat a few sizes too big, and two hands make their way to her lapel to tuck the girl in tighter. May Parker let's out a sigh.
"We've got to get you a thicker coat," May says. There's a tired look in her eyes. The lines on her face seem deeper. She's pushing on fifty-two now. The grief has aged her far more. "You're going to freeze when December hits."
"This one was his, May," [Y/N] replies. The words make May take a temporary pause. "I can't just find a new one."
Wind sends the leaves skittering along the graves. The red and brown contrast greatly to the pure white bouquet of cleomes sat on the headstone. Spider flowers, [Y/N] thinks with a small smile. He'd appreciate the irony.
"I think Peter would rather you be warm and cozy in your own well-fitting coat than freezing to death in one of his old, worn, baggy ones," May eventually responded. [Y/N] wrapped her hands around her body, subconsciously pulling the coat even closer. She could still pretend it smelled like him if she tried hard enough. The warm scent of cinnamon with hints of oak and amber. The smell of home.
The older woman gave her a sad smile and comfortingly rubbed her back. "But, I understand. It's hard to let go of it when you can imagine it's him. You wouldn't believe how many of Ben's old flannels are still folded up in my dresser."
Quiet crept in again. [Y/N] could still remember Ben Parker's death, how Peter shut down, how May crumbled. How could that have been nearly eight years ago? May still had her days of darkness, when the grief became too much. She had lost a husband and a son. [Y/N] had watched this woman quite literally go through every mother's nightmare. How did she get out of bed? How did she go to work? How was she still breathing?
"How do you do it?" [Y/N] broke the silence, unable to hold her thoughts back any longer. "It's been three years, May, and I still wake up expecting him to be next to me. I still wait for a call, a text, letting me know he's going to be late to dinner again this week because he's gotten caught up with some robbery downtown. I come home from work and I wait. I wait for Peter to walk in with Chinese takeout, give me a kiss that takes my breath away, and sit down to explain his latest gadget idea to me. I look at the door and I wait. I wait it for to open and it never does."
A sob falls from her lips. Tears are streaming down her face openly now, though [Y/N] can't remember when they started. May embraces her, tightly, as if she's keeping the girl in one piece. They fall together as [Y/N]'s knees give in from the weight of it all. The ground is cold. The grass is dead. Peter's headstone has collected enough dirt to look beige. There is no sign of life, no sign of who he was. All of it is dull. It makes the sobs wrack through her body even harder.
The two women sit there for quite some time. May cradles [Y/N] in her arms, whispering soothing words in her ear as the waves of sorrow slowly become smaller and smaller. There's been a quiet understanding between them ever since Peter's passing. They were family now. Neither would ever grieve alone. Neither would ever be alone. This was not the first time May Parker had held her son's partner in her arms as she grieved the loss of her love, and it would not be the last.
"You won't believe me, but it does get easier," May speaks while gently petting the girl's hair. Her breath had finally evened out, she was fresh out of tears. "It took me almost three years to come to terms with Ben's passing. I'm still learning to live without him. Healing is not linear, darling. I know it seems like this is never ending, but you will make it through this. We'll both make it through this, together, hand in hand. I am never leaving you and you're sure as hell not leaving me on my watch."
[Y/N] let out a shaky laugh, pulling back from May to look level with her. There were a few tear streaks down the older woman's face and [Y/N] felt a pang of guilt. She hated upsetting May or making her worry even more than she already did. May gently pushed the hair out of her face and [Y/N] took her hand.
"I'm not going anywhere, May," [Y/N] replied, placing a gentle kiss on the older woman's knuckle. "I'd miss your meatloaf too much."
May snorted, standing up and helping [Y/N] off the ground. "Now, there is no point in lying to me to butter me up," She joked, brushing the grass and dirt off the girl's coat. "Why don't you come back to the house for a bit? I'll make some tea. We could finally take a crack at that pumpkin bread recipe you've been talking about."
As if on cue, the shrill screech of a police siren broke May's created facade of a peaceful night. The women shared a look, [Y/N]'s full of remorse while May's held sorrow.
"Duty calls." [Y/N] sighed. She really did want to try that pumpkin bread recipe.
There was a beat. May opened her mouth and closed it again, trying to find the right words to say. She didn't have to. [Y/N] already knew.
"I know, May," The girl spoke up. "He wouldn't want this for me, and you're right, but he also wouldn't want New York to be completely on its own. This city needs a hero, a symbol of hope. It's selfish, but this is for me too. Makes me feel like I'm carrying on his legacy, I guess. As long as there's a Spider, there's still a piece of Peter around."
It had been hard informing May of the double life Peter had been living after he passed, but what else could [Y/N] have told her? "Ah yes, your son died in a very tragic car accident and that's why his spine was shattered into pieces and I was left completely unharmed although I was also at the scene." Lying to May after losing him just felt wrong.
So [Y/N] told her everything, about Spiderman, about the Green Goblin and the Osborns. And a few months later, when [Y/N] decided to take her late boyfriend's place and protect New York, the first thing she did was tell May. May, of course, pleaded with the girl not to go any further with the idea of Spiderwoman, but [Y/N] had her mind set. She was going to protect New York, not only for her home state's sake, but for Peter's memory as well.
May sighed. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop [Y/N] and there was no point in wasting both of their time. She'd been trying to put an end to this for two years now, but the girl was stubborn. Peter had called it "overly ambitious". May couldn't help but think that Ben could've put an end to this somehow, but it was just her now. She'd find a way eventually.
"If you need anything," May finally spoke. "I'll be home all night. I don't have night rounds at the hospital for the rest of this week. You stop by, no matter how late, okay? Peter's old bed is always there for you."
[Y/N] felt a pang in her chest at the mention of Peter's childhood bedroom. She'd spent at least four months after his death practically rotting away in his bed. There were so many memories from their teenage years in that room. She didn't know if she could face them again without deteriorating.
"Thanks, May," [Y/N] gave her a small smile. "I'll shoot you a text if I decide to stop by. In the meantime, pamper yourself. You work too hard."
The women shared a hug, May giving the girl a warm kiss on the cheek before they finally parted ways. [Y/N] watched May make her way out of the graveyard before leaning down to Peter's headstone. She gently sat her forehead against the stone and closed her eyes.
"I really, really hope you're proud of me."
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It was late. She'd been out for hours now, patrolling around the entire state of New York. Stopped a few break-ins, prevented some drug deals, the usual crime scene. It had been quiet ever since Norman Osborn's death. His passing was sudden, an apparent suicide. The news had sent [Y/N] into a fit of rage.
"That coward took the easy way out. After everything he's done, after Peter, it's over because of a fucking self-inflicted gunshot to the head? It was supposed to be me, May. I wanted to watch him bleed."
[Y/N] sat close to the top of the Empire State building. This had been her and Peter's hiding spot. She could remember the first time he had brought her up here, sometime during junior year, and the view had completely taken her breath away. Peter had taken her hand and told her he loved her for the first time. It truly felt like they could've conquered the world together.
She took a breath, attempting to let herself relax for the first time in a few days. She was exhausted; her head was pounding and her body ached. It was a lot more difficult to do the job that Peter left behind without any super-human abilities. She was extremely lucky all of his equipment hadn't taken damage, trying to follow Peter's notes and blueprints felt like reading a foreign language. It was a miracle she hadn't taken life-threatening injuries yet, though she had ended up on May's doorstep needing help getting patched back up more times than she'd like to admit. Thank God for May Parker.
The wind up this high was chilling. It seemed to bite, but it held a certain familiarity that brought comfort. [Y/N] wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the structure of the building. The red and blue of the suit reflected against the metal. She had managed to adjust Peter's old suit enough to get it to fit her smaller frame. She was cold. She never used to be cold up here.
Her eyes were getting heavier and it was dangerous to stay up this high, but she couldn't seem to care. She gave in almost at once, letting her eyes drift shut. I'll just rest my eyes for a minute, she thought. It's not like anyone will find me up here.
There was a brief moment of complete silence. No city sounds, no wind, she could barely hear the steady intake of her own breath. It was calm, almost as if she had made her way to the end of the world. A bright, nearly blinding light made [Y/N] squeeze her eyes shut tighter. What the hell?
The noise resumed. Cars honked, people yelled. [Y/N] rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the effect of the light, and noticed that the sun had risen. Had she accidentally fallen asleep and slept until morning? She'd have to send May a text. She always sent May an "I'm Ok! :)" after patrol. The woman must be worried sick.
[Y/N] made her way off of the building, slipping her mask back on and beginning to swing home. The sounds of Jonah Jameson's voice echoed through Times Square. Since when had he begun filming his episodes? She could've sworn the reporter only did his podcast.
J. Jonah Jameson sat at a desk, a stack of papers in his hand. His voice seemed to echo through the city. "Spider-Man continues his era of chaos with no remorse—"
That was weird. She had sworn everyone had switched to referring to the vigilante as Spiderwoman ever since the change had become more apparent. Also, when did Jameson go bald? He looked just... slightly off.
The reporter's rant on the hero continued. "When will you cease this meaningless destruction? After your betrayal to Mysterio, it's a miracle you have any public support remaining at all."
Mysterio? Who the hell was Mysterio?
The girl stopped, perching herself on the edge of a building and looking at the screen expectantly. She couldn't remember fighting a "Mysterio". There hadn't been a big bad in New York since the Goblin.
"It's time this little round of show-and-tell was put to an end," Jameson continued. "When will you face the facts? For the betterment of this city, you should be put behind bars. It's time you turned yourself in, Peter Parker."
[Y/N] felt her stomach drop.
The screen flashed. A photo of a teenaged boy was put on display. The words "PUBLIC ENEMY #1" were plastered over his face. Footage followed of the man Mysterio, accusing Peter of attempting to kill him. He revealed his identity and screen went to black.
[Y/N] could see Jameson's face appear back on the screen, but she couldn't hear a word he spoke. Something was extremely wrong here. She couldn't stop thinking about the boy that they had shown.
That's wasn't Peter.
Begin again | kth
➵ Pairing: dad!taehyung x mom!reader
➵ Genre: angst, fluff, domestic, slice of life, exes au, slow burn, eventual smut
➵ Warnings: strong language, mature content
➵ Summary: after months of tension and conflict, you decide to put an end to your relationship with Taehyung, your fiancé and the father of your kids. However, it’s not all smooth sailing from there. You now face many challenges such as co-parenting and learning to adjust to this new chapter of your life. And as time goes on, you’re left wondering, did you make the right choice?
➵ Taglist: let me know if you would like to be added ♡
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Enemy ‖ eight
Taehyung rethinks his actions while you have a hard time dealing with them.
⤑ word count: 9.2k ⤑ pairing: taehyung x reader ⤑ genre: smut, friends with benefits, non-idol!au, fuckboy!taehyung ⤑ warnings: 18+ minors dni! discussions about sexual acts ⤑ prev. chapter ‖ next chapter ‖ series masterpost ‖ updates ⤑ read on AO3
you can find the masterlist here and share your feedback with me here, if you want to. if you enjoy reading my stories, please consider supporting me using buymeacoffee. thank you! :)
Taehyung ran up the stairs and barged into the room as fast as he could, sweat washing over him as he thought about all the things that could have gone wrong in the meantime. A sigh of relief left his mouth when he realized that your clothes were still there and that no freaks had entered the room in the meantime. Well, except him, but he was the type of freak you were okay with. Maybe not anymore, but that was yet to be determined at that point.
“It’s me!” Taehyung shouted loud enough for you to hear him since it was obvious you were still in the bathroom. “I’ll watch the door.”
You didn’t say anything back, but Taehyung heard you turning on the water. As he sat on the bed and listened to you shower, he realized that Yoongi was right: he was a total asshole who was so full of himself and this idea that he was so much better than everyone out there who let themselves care about others.
“But why do I care?” Taehyung shrugged. “You don’t stay around after a hookup, right?”
Yoongi’s eyes turned into slits as he gave his friend a glare that gave off exactly what he was feeling. “You care, Taehyung, whether you like it or not. You want a deal with this girl because you don’t want her to be with other people. You’re mad at Hoseok for interfering, which is totally fine if you want her for yourself, and you’re mad at yourself for being unable to admit it,” Yoongi explained while shaking his head at Taehyung, acting like he was disgusted with what he’d just heard. “All this time, I’ve been trying to get you to realize it, but you have to fight me every step of the way.”
“I’ve never said that,” Taehyung was quick to respond, refusing to admit to something that could have easily been true. Yoongi knew him well, and there were a lot of things to unpack in what he’d just said.
“Oh, really? You didn’t tell me you two were exclusively fucking each other?”
Ah, Yoongi slipped up. Taehyung saw a chance and took it. “Fucking and dating aren’t the same thing.”
“Yeah, I get that, trust me. But when was the last time you took a girl out for breakfast after having sex with her? Never. The last time you let someone spend the night at yours? Never. You spending a night and the morning with a girl? Unheard of,” Yoongi said in a spiteful tone, stopping just to raise his eyebrows at his friend. “But here you are, breaking all your stupid rules for this super sweet girl who seems to be able to look past all the nastiness you exude and likes you for who you are. And then, to get back at me and prove me wrong, you treat her like she’s cheap and replaceable when we both know she isn’t. Otherwise, you would have already replaced her a long time ago.”
“Maybe.” Taehyung shrugged, wondering why he felt terrible all of a sudden. “She’s a nice girl. But our deal is about sex.”
“You don’t know how to treat someone you like with respect. You really think a woman who cares enough about you to let you fuck her over and over again will be okay with you doing that to her and then walking out. How are you this emotionally stunted, man? Who hurt you?” Yoongi placed his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and patted it. “I’m telling you, if you don’t go upstairs and talk to this girl, your deal is off for good. But, I think that’s better for her unless you do something about the way you’re acting.”
Taehyung huffed at his friend. Wasn’t he already making a fool out of himself by treating you a lot better than anyone else? “I don’t know what else to do other than treat her like I’ve been treating her.”
“Really?” Yoongi leaned in, an inch away from his face, and grimaced. “You don’t know how else to treat her!? You can’t wait for her to shower, hug her, kiss her, hold her hand, take her out for burgers again, or just walk her home? You don’t know how to do that, right. All you know is how to fuck because you’re an irresistible guy, and the rest of us are losers for caring about people.”
“I never said that.”
“Well, you meant it, and it’s coming to bite you in the ass. Know why? Because now you don’t even know how to explain to yourself why you’re feeling like shit, and I can tell that you are because you haven’t had one comeback to all of this and you’ve dropped the snarky facade, which only happens once in a blue moon. Go up there and grovel, man, and tell her you actually like her...”
Not long after, right when he was in the middle of replaying the conversation with his friend, you walked out of the bathroom. You weren’t naked, as Taehyung expected. Instead, you wrapped the towel around you and walked out to get your clothes, which he had already collected and placed on the bed for you. It was the least he could do.
“Hey,” you said and grabbed the clothes, walking back into the bathroom to get dressed. You denied Taehyung the chance to see you naked again, which wasn’t something he was used to from you. Clearly, he fucked up, like Yoongi suggested. Everything about the exchange felt cold, which was crazy considering how close you were just earlier.
A while later, you walked out of the bathroom completely dressed, and Taehyung realized that most of your make up was gone. Earlier, you had eyeliner and mascara on, he was pretty certain. Now, it seemed like the liner was gone and there were some remnants of mascara, but nothing too noticeable. Why did you already remove it? Unless…
“What’s wrong?” Taehyung decided to be the first one to speak, realizing you two just had to have a conversation about your thing, whatever it was. It was either that or not speaking again—it was obvious from the way you seemed to be shying away from him. Not letting him watch you get dressed, not looking him in the eye, not talking… The signs were there. Taehyung was a lot of things, but he wasn’t stupid.
“I’m just tired,” you lied, eyes focused on the door as if you were just dying to get the hell out of there. Yet, you didn’t move from your place.
“Are you sure?” Taehyung gave you another chance to be honest with him. That was your deal, right? All you wanted was honesty.
“Yes,” you responded curtly, not even looking at him.
Taehyung didn’t know what to say to that. To him, it was very obvious you were upset and didn’t want anything to do with him. It was also obvious he wanted to talk it out, yet you didn’t want to give him a chance. He asked you, twice now, and you pretended everything was fine.
“Why are you back?” you asked, breaking the silence, and Taehyung left a sigh of relief. Finally, something.
“I shouldn’t have left in the first place.” That was honest, completely. He shouldn’t have gone out and left you here alone.
“Ok…” You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest and tonguing the inside of your cheek, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else.
“I hate this,” Taehyung grunted and sat down on the bed, shaking his head. He did hate it, all of it. That was exactly why he never got involved with people—it all got too complicated. “Can we just talk?”
“Hate what?” The spite in your voice didn’t go over Taehyung’s head. You clearly decided you weren’t going to help him out at all here, and he kind of had it coming. The night was going great until he got scared of Yoongi being fucking right.
“You looking at me like that, us being this weird…” Taehyung explained, hoping you’ll understand without him going into detail. “We’re always honest with each other, right? And you don’t seem honest now.”
“You mean honest like you were when you told me you just wanted to go home earlier?” You did it again, smacked him in the face with his words, made him feel like a fool for even bringing something up. “Because you’re still here. How was that honest, then?”
“Oh… I… I’m an idiot,” Taehyung nodded and looked at you, not even trying to come up with an excuse. He was a total jerk, yes, and he had to admit it to you if he wanted you to forget this ever happened. The room suddenly felt so small and stuffy, like it was suffocating him.
“Well, that’s a good start.” You sighed and looked away again, letting your eyes wander all over the room, but never looking directly at him. It made him feel small, Taehyung realized, you not even wanting to look him in the eye. Did he really fuck up that much? It wasn’t even that serious.
“I know, I fucked up. But I came back,” he pointed out, hoping that would get him some points at least. It was more than he would have done for anyone else, and that had to count for something.
“It doesn’t really undo anything, does it?” You spread your arms, getting visibly more frustrated with Taehyung by the second, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He wasn’t good at arguing with people, especially not when they were upset, maybe even hurt. That was the worst thing about it for him—seeing you almost in pain because of something so stupid and pointless he did.
“It doesn’t,” his voice almost failed him, so Taehyung swallowed the lump in his throat and decided to be as honest as he could. “All this Hoseok stuff really fucked with me.”
“Why?” You grimaced and finally decided to look at him, even if only for a second. “It’s between me and him and it’s stupid. I didn’t want you to get involved. In fact, I specifically asked you not to because it’s something I can handle. You picked a fight with him on your own.”
That was true, you were right. You never asked him to talk to Hoseok, threaten him, or stand up for you—that was all Taehyung’s doing. Why he did that was still a bit unclear to him, but he felt a need to. He couldn’t just let your ex whatever-he-was say those things about you and get away with them, it felt unfair. But, everything that happened after the fight Taehyung picked with the guy was on him. It was just because Hoseok found a way to get under his skin, and it had nothing to do with you.
He cleared his throat and spoke, “I know, but I didn’t want him to tell you these things because they’re not true and he’s just bitter.”
“You don’t have to look out for me. I know Hoseok and I know how to talk to him,” you spat the words at Taehyung, reminding him once again that you and Hoseok had a different type of connection, one that you could never have with a guy like Taehyung. It was his own fault. After all, Hoseok may have called you a slut in anger, but he’d never walk out on you like Taehyung had.
Since he didn’t say anything to that, you went on. “So Hoseok’s the reason you did that and then just left and made me feel like the dirtiest whore out there? Yeah, let’s blame Hoseok!”
“I…” What was he supposed to say? It was so much more complex than that. It wasn’t Hoseok and the things he said about you, it was all of it together—you two being close, you three fucking, Hoseok wanting you, Taehyung being unable to be a normal person, Yoongi telling him exactly that. It was all too much. Shit like that never happened to Taehyung, and you didn’t seem to understand that. None of it was like him, and it just confused him.
Taehyung quickly got up and took a step towards you, reaching out to grab hold of you. However, he quickly gave up on the idea and pulled his hands back because he realized it wasn’t what you wanted. The last thing you needed was him touching you after what he’d done. He fucked up, big time. “No. It’s all of this.” His voice came out a lot weaker than he intended it to, but he couldn’t help it. It was difficult to admit.
“What? The deal? You can’t do it?” you asked before chuckling, but it wasn’t a happy kind of chuckle. No, it was more of an I-hate-your-guts kind of chuckle, one that Taehyung was used to by now, just not from you. “If it’s that, just tell me. I won’t get hurt. I’ll get hurt if you treat me like shit, though.”
“No, no. It’s not that, I can do it. The deal works as it is,” Taehyung nodded as he spoke, hoping you’d understand that he really wasn’t tempted to fuck other women. Yeah, he could do it, but would it feel as gratifying as fucking you did? Probably not. So, why take the risk and lose a pretty good thing?
Yeah, that was exactly what you two had—a good fucking thing, even if a bit messy and fucked up and not what other people would go for. Did other people even matter? Taehyung sighed when he thought that mostly because he had let other people get inside of his head.
You scoffed and shook your head, your lips trembling—with anger or hurt, he couldn’t really tell. “Then what is it? I just don’t get you.” You looked at him like he was an asshole, and he deserved it. “Like… Why? Why all of this? You say you want it, then you don’t. You fight Hoseok, then you can’t do it.”
Taehyung gulped but couldn’t get himself to say a word. The truth was, he was having a hard time explaining it to himself, deciphering all the things he was feeling, all the things he said and heard, and putting them all into words that made some sense. He needed time to process it, he’d needed it for a while now, but it was easier to bury his head in the sand and hope for the best.
You, however, didn’t seem to have time to wait for him to make his mind up, and he couldn’t blame you—you have every right to be pissed off. “Ha, so much for being honest!”
“No, listen—” Taehyung sighed and realized it was now or never. Maybe you’d get it. “My friend has just been getting inside my head lately with all this talk about me having this deal with you because I never do this. And he’s been trying to convince me that I care about you, you know, like I want to be with you and I am jealous of Hoseok and all that, and it just got to me,” he spoke without pausing, watching your eyes widen as you listened, hearing his own voice falter, become weak. “He said I give you special treatment, that I don’t treat you like I treat everyone else, and that it’s obvious why. So I, being the asshole that I am, realized he was right and that I give you special treatment, so I treated you like everyone else.”
Then, Taehyung realized that your eyes were welling up with tears and that you decided to rub them before they fell in front of him. You were too proud to let him see you cry because of him, but that didn’t make him feel any better. Of course, he didn’t want to see you cry, but not because it would be uncomfortable—it was because Taehyung would know he was to blame for it, and that’s something that would have made him feel bad. No matter what kind of a guy he was, he really didn’t get off on making people cry, especially people who have always been nice to him like you have.
“It’s stupid, I know,” he went on, feeling the need to keep talking, unable to bear the silence and the sight of you almost crying because of something really idiotic and meaningless he did. “I really fucked up and I do feel bad about making you feel… Bad.”
“Taehyung, I don’t need or want you to care about me that way. You made it clear that you don’t and that you never will,” you said, your voice shaking. “But I do expect you to care for me as a person. Fuck buddies should be on friendly terms, right? I’m sure you wouldn’t treat a friend this way.”
He reached out to touch you, but you moved away, denying him the comfort of your touch. “Please, don’t, not now.”
“It won’t happen again,” Taehyung said, sighing. He was defeated, completely. You’d never moved away from him like that, never turned him down so easily, never spoke to him in that tone. “I promise.”
“I don’t know if I can believe that,” you said with a shrug, looking very hurt. “How can I be sure you won’t kick me out of your car the next time we fuck there? Or throw me out of your apartment when we’re done? God forbid your friend thinks you like me.”
Taehyung groaned at himself, sighing deeply before he said something he would regret. He just wanted to swear at himself and his stupidity for getting himself in this situation. Of course he fucking liked you—you two have been fucking for a while now, you got along well, and he had the best time when he was with you. What was so wrong about admitting that? Why did he even get upset over his friend insinuating that? “You know me, and I wouldn’t do that,” he tried to sound reassuring when he told you that, but the frown on your face told Taehyung you just didn’t buy it.
“Well, I thought you wouldn’t literally piss on me and then leave me naked in someone else’s bathroom, but I was fucking wrong, wasn’t I?” The tone of voice you used was enough to make him feel dumb. But, it was the way you looked at Taehyung that completely ruined him. Your eyes were narrowed into slits as you glared at him angrily, with disgust on your face, hurt written all over it.
At that moment, he felt like the worst person alive. He was a selfish, horny idiot. That was all there was to it. What you said sounded terrible because it really was terrible. There was no explanation that could make it sound acceptable, no way to make it seem better. Who the fuck did things like that, honestly? The alcohol Taehyung drank evaporated from his system in the meantime, leaving him sober and embarrassed by his earlier actions.
“I’m sorry,” Taehyung told you, unable to come up with anything that described what he was feeling any better. “It was a mistake. I just… I felt bad about seeing you like that.” That was the truth. It wasn’t his feelings, it wasn’t Hoseok or Yoongi—it was Taehyung and him doing this to you that made him walk away and pretend it never happened. He didn’t walk away because he regretted being with you, having the deal with you, or anything like that. He just couldn’t handle what he’d done.
His statement confused you. You frowned and asked, “Like what?”
“I mean, I shouldn’t have tried to treat you like I treat other girls I don’t even remember,” he explained with a sigh. That was it. Seeing you like that made him feel bad because you meant more than just stupid fun at the end of a night, more than a person he can try out a kink with and move on like he didn’t know them. You didn’t deserve to be with a guy like him, who’d do that to you. “It’s a shitty thing to do, even for me, but I hope you’ll be able to… Forgive this.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” you said and tried to walk past him, but Taehyung placed his hand in front of you, making you run into it and stopping you from leaving. His hand slid down your side and wrapped around your waist, pulling your side into his stomach, but you still stared right ahead, refusing to look to the side and face him. You were too proud to give him a chance, as you should have been. Taehyung knew he fucked up.
“Let’s not do this,” you muttered the words under your breath, jaw clenched, eyes watering. Even though you seemed to be pissed off with him, you weren’t trying to break free from his touch, and that gave Taehyung some hope.
“Please don’t leave yet,” Taehyung leaned in and rested his forehead against the side of your head, taking a deep breath. You smelled divine, as always. Familiar, even. He was used to you. “Let’s talk this out.”
“Taehyung,” you said with a sigh, still refusing to look at him. “I want to leave because I don’t know what else to tell you. I feel terrible, I really want to get home, take a long shower in my own bathroom so I stop feeling so fucking dirty and gross, and I want to forget this ever happened. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”
With a gentle squeeze to your side, Taehyung exhaled softly. “You can trust me.” His words sounded so cheap now, after everything he’d done to you.
“How do I know that? I feel scared of the next thing you’re going to try to convince yourself we’re just strangers who fuck,” you admitted, voice practically cracking by the end of the sentence, and your doubt upset him.
He wasn’t angry, just disappointed with himself. Because of the way he had acted, you no longer trusted him, and that was the one thing that was great about you two. Honesty, trust, having fun… It was possible because you could be real with each other, and Taehyung and his dick ruined that.
“I won’t,” was all he could tell you, but he meant it. He’d never do something as stupid as that again if you gave him a chance.
“Again, how do I know that?” you spat the words at him before grabbing his hand, prying it away from your body, and pushing it away from your waist in anger. Taehyung felt like you were about to really walk away for good and that he’d never get to even talk to you again, which was something he would hate to see happen. When would he ever meet someone that made him want to give this a go? He’d never met someone like that before you.
So, instead of completely ruining the whole thing, Taehyung wrapped both arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. Surprisingly, you didn’t struggle, but you definitely weren’t about to hug him back. Despite your initial protest, you relaxed in his arms and let him hug you, sighing deeply. Not knowing what else to do, Taehyung leaned in, resting his chin on your head. “Because I do fucking care for you, somehow. I don’t know what to do about it.”
It was a huge thing for someone like Taehyung to admit, especially since it was the first time he’d ever said something so personal to someone. It was like he’d just given you leverage, something you could use against him when you wanted to hurt him, and that wasn’t something Taehyung ever wanted.
The words were hard to even think of, let alone say, but they were honest and real, and that was what he promised you. He knew that was why he hated seeing you like that, hated thinking of you as someone he could use for sex—you’d stopped being just that a long time ago. People used him for sex, too, there was nothing bad in that if both people agree on it, but with you, things just didn’t work that way, not anymore.
Taehyung wasn’t sure what he was expecting you to say to his sudden confession, but it definitely wasn’t what you mumbled, “If this is how you treat people you care about, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I don’t know how to do it, that’s the problem, and I get it,” he admitted through a whisper, feeling even more vulnerable than before. How do other people do it? How do they talk about these things, how are they okay with them? “What would make this better? Do you want to do the same to me?”
Taehyung felt you sigh before he heard you grunt, and then your body went all stiff in his arms. “Do you really think treating you like shit would make me feel better? Come on, Tae… Why would I want that?”
“We’d be even,” he suggested, even though it was a stupid think to even think.
You moved away from his touch, and he was scared you were going to walk out. But, you only took a step backwards and looked straight into his eyes. “Fuck, Taehyung, I don’t want to be even. We’re not kids, I don't think I need to hurt you back to feel better, and I won’t. I just want to know that I can trust you not to let me down like that anymore. It’s not about the golden shower, believe me. I want to try things with someone I can trust, which is why I said yes to you in the first place. But now, I feel like the trust is gone, and I don’t know what else to do.”
That made a lot of sense. Taehyung would have a hard time trusting you if you did something similar. And then, it would all stop. Realizing how you were feeling only made his stomach drop and his throat dried up at the idea of you never trusting him again.
So, he said the first thing he could come up with, something that sounded reasonable, something that would convince you to stay. “We don’t have to fuck until you trust me.”
“Okay, so you’ll wait for me to call you for months?” you countered with a cocked up eyebrow. Usually, when you’d give him that look, it was a sign of you being in the mood. That night, it was a sign of you thinking he was an idiot.
Taehyung gulped, feeling dread wash over him—not because he couldn’t hold on without sex for that long, but because he didn’t want to go on without talking to you or seeing you for months. Months sounded like a long time. “We can, uh, talk and hang out without having sex. Right?”
“Since when do you want that?” You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to come up with something.
“I’ve just told you that I do,” Taehyung explained with a sigh, realizing he’d have to work harder on convincing you. “Like I’ve said, all this with Hoseok got me thinking.”
Your eyes widened and you nodded. “Is this about the beef you have with Hoseok and you wanting to prove you’re better?”
“No, it’s not that. I just realized that you could really just change your mind and start hooking up with Hoseok or anyone else for that matter, and the thought really bugged me. Not because it’s him, but because it’s you. I have fun with you, I do see you as a friend, and it would really suck if we stopped seeing each other.” There, he said it.
“Okay, listen… The next time you start thinking about stuff that worries you and has something to do with us, just let me fucking know,” you muttered the words out and gave him a knowing look. “I don’t expect you to care or change your behavior towards me. I’m fine with getting to fuck you when we’re both in the mood, but I’m not fine with you treating me like I’m someone you can just walk out on.”
“It will never happen again, I promise,” Taehyung crossed his heart with a couple of nods. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get in my head like that again, but I will let you know.”
You hummed and looked to the side, eyes wandering around while you thought about something. “Is it… Was it because I told you that you have a soft spot for me?”
Oh, you did say that, and it did make Taehyung feel like Yoongi was right. It felt like everyone could see it except him. When he’d heard you say it, it just convinced him that he was the only one who doesn’t know himself at all. “It was that and all the other things I’ve mentioned. It all happened within an hour and it’s a lot to process.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” you admitted, gulping loudly, showing some kind of nervousness Taehyung wasn’t used to seeing from you. “Maybe we should go home.”
Home? Taehyung didn’t want to say goodbye for the night, not after everything. He needed to be around you for a while longer, just until he felt like everything was okay, like he hadn’t ruined everything. “Can I… Come with you?” he dared ask, knowing you could turn him down.
Without batting an eye, you did exactly that. “I’d rather if you don’t. Not now.”
“Are you sure?”
You scoffed and looked at him again, your expression softening a bit. “Yes. I want to be alone and think about everything.”
Taehyung’s heart sank to his stomach when he realized you were determined not to spend more time with him. It could have been just a temporary thing—you didn’t want to talk to him that night. But, Taehyung was scared. What if it turned into something permanent?
So, desperately, he suggested, “Can I walk you home?”
“I’m tired, I’ll get a cab.” Once again, you turned him down easily, showing him you really didn’t want to be around him, which was upsetting, and not in the angry type of way. No, Taehyung just felt his chest shrink down until it felt like he couldn’t take a breath.
But, he had to let you have your way. It was your right not to want to be around him, especially after the way he treated you. If he kept pushing and trying to force you to talk to him, Taehyung would just ruin everything, and he was already on thin ice with you.
Finally, he came up with something that sounded appropriate, something that would buy him a little more time with you. “Let’s share an Uber, at least.”
You said yes to that, even though unwillingly, and the wait for the Uber was really weird. You both stood out there in the cold, and Taehyung just really wanted to hug you, but it was out of the question. Your usual thing was kissing, groping, having your hands on each other when you were somewhere together. That night, you were standing feet apart, bodies not even brushing against one another, let alone touching. Taehyung could forget all about kissing and hugging. They were privileges he’d lost by being a fucking moron.
The last thing he wanted was for you to go home and think about what a piece of shit he was and decide to break things off with him. But, he couldn’t prevent that from happening. You had every right to decide you were over this thing with him, and Taehyung couldn’t do anything about it. Still, it didn’t feel like he made things right.
The drive to your place was quiet, but Taehyung used the opportunity to place his hand over yours. Surprisingly, you didn’t move it away, so that felt comforting. You may have been pissed off at him, but you at least appreciated him holding his hand over yours, and that was something. It wasn’t something he usually did, but he was desperate to keep you close then, dying to have you treat him the way you usually do.
When the driver pulled up at your place, Taehyung got out of the car with you, not even thinking about his decision twice. What was he supposed to do, drive off without getting to talk to you in private for a minute or two, without saying goodbye? He definitely wasn’t going to do it in a fucking Uber, not after the fuck up he’d made earlier.
You, on the other hand, weren’t so keen on the idea, judging by the glare you gave him when he stepped onto the sidewalk and stood right next to you. “Where are you going?”
“I want to walk you to your door,” he told you while you just stood there and glared at him, making him feel like an even bigger idiot than he already was.
“Taehyung… Please go back inside,” you hissed the words at him like you were angry, even though he thought you were on somewhat good terms again. Wasn’t that what your conversation back in the room was all about? “You can’t stay over.”
“I know…” Taehyung nodded, hoping you saw that wasn’t his goal, “I just want to… Hug you, at least.”
It was an embarrassing thing to admit, but it would definitely make him feel better. Well, it would at least make Taehyung feel like you didn’t hate him, and that was something.
The way you scoffed made his head snap up in your direction. “You want a hug? You, Kim Taehyung? Kim I’ve-never-had-a-feeling-in-my-life Taehyung? Please.” The tone told him you were done with him for the night.
“That was mean,” he pointed out, even if he couldn’t blame you for saying all those things. You had every right to be mean to him and not take his words seriously, especially not after he walked out on you in that position at someone else’s place. Besides, you were right—Taehyung wasn’t the type of guy who cared or asked for hugs, yet there he was, needing one from you.
“It was. You’re right. I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I’m just mad now, and that’s why I think it’s best if you go home.”
“I think we should spend more time together and…” he gulped, “talk about it. I don’t want to go home knowing you’re mad at me.” It was the truth—Taehyung would hate going to bed knowing you’re in your bed thinking about how much you hate him or, even worse, crying over the way he treated you.
“You can’t fuck your way out of everything, Taehyung.”
Well, touché. You had a comeback for everything he said, which usually amused him. Tonight, it only served as a reminder of what kind of an asshole Taehyung was to you and how good he’d had it all that time when he was on your good side, when you treated him well, when you were gentle with him.
He admitted, “I’m starting to realize that.”
“Okay. Good.”
“Maybe I’ve misspoken. I meant, I don’t want to go home knowing you’re hurt because of me,” Taehyung began, hoping he’d manage to get the words out in a way that made sense. “When I walked out on you, I didn’t think that I wanted to humiliate or hurt you. I thought I should treat this girl like I treat every other one because I just don’t care and I don’t want people to get any ideas.”
You tried to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, but you failed and did it with a snort. “Wow, every girl’s dream.”
“But it’s not true, clearly,” he added quickly. It wasn’t, it really wasn’t. Fucking Yoongi was right. He did care about you and wanted things to stay the same. At the same time, Hoseok was wrong.
“I kind of doubt that, Tae,” you told him softly, eyes sparkling in the dark.
This time, he couldn’t help but groan. “Why in the fuck would I be here? I got to fuck you. I got to play out a dumb fantasy. I could have just left like I said I would. I’d find someone else to fuck. I like us!”
“Who’s ‘us’, Taehyung? We don’t exist,” you pointed out slowly, your voice almost cracking again. You were right—you two as a thing didn’t really exist—but weren’t you friends with benefits? Wasn’t he the only guy who got to kiss you and touch you and fuck you whenever you both wanted it? That had to count for something. As if you noticed the disappointed look on his face despite not even looking at him, you sighed and quickly added, “Let’s call it a night, hm? It’s been too eventful for my liking, and I just really want to be alone.”
And then, you leaned in for a hug, which he gladly accepted. The hug you gave Taehyung was a weak attempt to try to make it seem that things were alright. You did it for him, to get him to go home and leave you alone, which he did. He let you out of his embrace when he felt you pushing away, and wished you a good night, hoping you’d ask him to stay. You promised to text him when you had time to think about the whole thing some more, but Taehyung felt that was just your way of letting him down gently.
So, he wallowed in self-pity for a while, hoping that you’d call him or that he’d forget about it. Since he didn’t want to compromise your deal, Taehyung couldn’t exactly go out and fuck someone, which meant he didn’t have that many options other than just try to forget. He didn’t talk about the whole thing with Yoongi, deciding not to let other people mess with his head anymore. He knew what he felt, and he was just waiting for your decision. Whatever happened was going to happen between you two, and the opinions of his friends or fucking Hoseok didn’t matter.
Despite feeling like crap, Taehyung went out the next week after his friends insisted he came. He’d been spending time on his own all week, and they were wondering if everything was okay. Since the last thing he wanted was to discuss anything related to you, which would definitely happen if Yoongi had a say in it, Taehyung just decided to go out with them and pretend he was feeling just fine.
He may have gone out, but he wasn’t really drinking—just a drink or two to stay awake and have enough patience to deal with drunk assholes. Were all drunk people usually that annoying or was it just because Taehyung was finally sober for a change? Whatever it was, it made him feel antsy. He avoided large crowds and stuck with the couple of people he knew who weren’t obnoxiously drunk—not just yet.
And then, he noticed you walking in with a couple of friends, tipsy and happy. Taehyung could tell by the way you were giggling and holding onto your friend’s arm, not even looking around the room to see who was there. Definitely drunk. The sound of your giggling filled his ears, and he wished he could just walk over to you and kiss you, maybe even grab your ass, ask you to come upstairs with him, like he’d done so many times before. But, even a hug would have been nice. He just needed a sign that it was all okay, that it would go back to normal, that he hasn’t ruined the whole thing by thinking with his stupid fucking dick.
Your eyes meet for a second or two, but definitely long enough for you to realize it was him you were looking at. You froze for an instant but quickly recovered and looked away, continuing to talk to your friends, making your way out of the room and into the next one, away from Taehyung’s questioning gaze. He had no right to follow you or walk up to you to see how you were doing. You asked him for time to think. If your idea of thinking about you two was going out and drinking with friends, he definitely wasn’t going to blame you. Taehyung just hoped you’d let him know what you’d decided and not just string him along.
An hour later, he started feeling restless, wondering where you were, who you were with, and whether you were even thinking about him. You were all he could think about, and it felt annoying, to say the least. Taehyung had another drink in the meantime, but it was nowhere near enough to stop thinking about you. Against his better judgment, he pretended to be looking for the bathroom and walked around the place, hoping to see you. But, he was praying he wasn’t going to run into you with someone else. For some reason, that thought would really upset him, Taehyung was aware.
Thankfully, you were with your friends, dancing and laughing, looking as gorgeous and carefree as ever. You were drunk, that much was clear, but not too drunk to be out of it. He watched you dance for a while, letting his eyes wander all over your body, the body he’d had so close so many times, the body he missed having under him. Taehyung shook himself out of his thoughts about you and everything he wanted to do to you and left the room.
Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, so he texted you a while later.
Taehyung: so pretty when you smile like that :)
After he pressed ‘send,’ Taehyung realized that sounded kind of creepy, but he couldn’t unsend it, so he just went with it. You’d already told him to fuck off, so this text couldn’t really ruin anything. He wasn’t expecting you to answer, especially not within ten minutes, but you did.
You: pretty? not a compliment i expected from you
Were you angry? Upset? Teasing? Taehyung couldn’t tell. He wished you’d told it to him in person so he could have seen your face and heard your tone. Since you hadn’t, Taehyung could only guess, so he went with teasing—it suited him the most out of all the possible options.
Taehyung: i mean, do i think you’re hot and do i want to fuck you stupid? yes. this just sounds nicer
Taehyung: and is just as true
He wasn’t sure if the texts were too much, but they were honest, and that was the most he could do—other than walking over to you and kissing you, which could probably end the whole thing. So, he stuck to texts. You didn’t respond that time, which made him realize he fucked it up. Maybe you were upset with him for not putting in any effort, for following your instructions to leave you alone, for even texting you a compliment. Maybe the other texts he sent just annoyed you even more. It was all possible, and the game wasn’t something Taehyung was used to playing, so it left him confused.
Despite feeling like crap, he didn’t have any more drinks. Instead, he hung around in the quieter rooms and tried to stay awake, even though the thought of just going home was attractive. Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t leave because he would have missed you when you came out to look for him. That was what you had to be doing when you walked inside the room and looked around until you looked straight into his eyes. His head snapped up in your direction, and you were next to him before he could blink.
“Let’s go upstairs,” you suggested, grabbing his hand. Nothing about it was gentle or sweet, but Taehyung let you hold his hand and lead the way.
You walked up the stairs and into a random bedroom without a word, locked the door behind you in complete silence, pushed Taehyung onto the bed, and took off your underwear, sliding it down your legs while staying covered with your dress. The whole scene was confusing him, but it was so hot at the same time—you, just taking what you want, which just so happened to be him.
The next second, you were straddling his thighs, fingers fumbling with his zipper. At that point, Taehyung stopped you by covering your hands with his and sighing. “Hey, hey… You good there?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, pouting at the zipper. “Just want to get these off.”
“Sure you can do this?” he asked, even though he was risking you getting up and walking away. “Not too drunk?”
“I’m not that drunk, Tae. Four drinks, maybe,” you explained as you finally pulled the zipper down. The next second, your hand was under the waistband of his boxers, palming to find his cock. You hissed when you did, finding it hard for you already. “I can do this. Can you?”
“Three drinks,” Taehyung told you, mesmerized by the way you were stroking him as if you were just trying to get him hard enough to fuck. He already was. “No longer angry with me?”
“Tae, let’s just… do this,” you suggested, a hint of annoyance in your voice. It made Taehyung realize he wasn’t there because you were trying to make up with him—if that even existed in a friends-with-benefits situation. No, you were just there to get off, and he was just familiar.
“If that’s what you want,” he responded with a shrug and lifted his hips off the bed so you could slide his jeans and boxers down his thighs, just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and hard for you.
Taehyung watched you stroke him slowly, eyes focused solely on his cock, hissing when you saw him leak precum for you. “No condom, right?” You finally looked up at his eyes as if you were trying to check if he’d lie. He hadn’t had sex with anyone else since you two argued, and he hoped this meant you hadn’t either. That would mean the deal was still on, even if things weren’t exactly peachy right then. There was hope, after all.
“No condom,” he confirmed, propping himself up on his elbows and getting a good look at you. “Once again, you’re sure about this?”
“Tae, I need to come,” you said firmly, nodding at him right after as if he was slow. “Do you want to come too?”
“Y-yeah,” he gulped, “I do.”
“Okay, then let’s just think about coming,” you suggested, moving your knees towards his hips until you were kneeling right above his crotch and guiding his dick towards your entrance. You started to ease yourself down onto his cockhead, but Taehyung’s grip around your waist stopped you in place, and you looked up at him. “What?”
“No prep?” Taehyung questioned, wondering if you were really as sober as you claimed. None of it was like you, yet you didn’t seem to be slurring your words. You just seemed out of it, and that was somehow worse, at least in his eyes.
Your huff gave off your annoyance with him. “I just want you to fuck me.”
“Just that?” Taehyung asked, hoping he’d hear a different answer.
“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” you retorted with a half-smirk. “Not like you to talk this much when someone’s offering a quick fuck.”
Your words stung a bit, Taehyung couldn’t lie, but he had to grit his teeth and move on. You had a bit to drink, you were still angry with him, and just needed release. At least you came to him and not some other guy, choosing to end your agreement.
“Then you’ll get fuck like you want,” he told you as he wrapped his arms around you and got up.
Quickly, he discarded his shoes, jeans, and boxers so he could give you what you clearly wanted. Just a quick fuck, nothing more, just someone to fuck you. He could be just that, if it was all you wanted. With that in mind, Taehyung walked around you, standing right behind you before he pushed his hips into your from behind, mouth attaching to your neck.
“Shit,” you muttered when his teeth grazed your skin, his arms sliding up your clothed body, giving your tits a squeeze before moving down to rest on your hips.
“On the bed, on your knees,” he ordered with a slap to your ass, so you listened instantly, getting in the position he asked of you, legs spread, ass up in the air.
It was not how Taehyung wanted to fuck you, but if you wanted him to just fuck you stupid, he could do that too. So, he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it over your hips, letting it pool around your ribs, which were pressed into the mattress. “Fucking needy tonight,” he told you, mesmerized by the wetness between your folds, a clear sign of your arousal.
He stroked his cock with one hand while he leaned in and spat on your hole, enjoying the way his saliva glistened on your folds. You hissed when he touched you, thumb spreading the spit all around your hole. The next second, he slid a finger in, fingering you for a couple of seconds before adding another. It didn’t take him long to finger you open and have you moaning for him.
Then, Taehyung pulled his fingers out, spat on his cock, and shoved it inside of you, grunting loudly as he did. Since you two hadn’t had sex in a while and he was so desperate to feel you, it felt better than he remembered, tighter, more welcoming. Your moans sounded even better now that he finally had you again, his hips starting to snap into yours, slowly at first.
With every groan of his name, he went harder, his stomach clenching with each thrust. It was all about you and getting you to come, and Taehyung wanted nothing more than to feel you come around him while you moaned his name. That’s what happened not long after. Instead of getting to come inside of you, you let Taehyung come inside of your throat before you swallowed and put on your underwear. Not long after, you were gone, leaving him to sit there and think how he managed to fuck things up that much.
After your little encounter at the party, you went radio silent on Taehyung again. Not a call, not a text, not a peep. He felt a bit cheap, even though he was used to fucking people and never really talking to them again. But, you weren’t just a person to him, and he was hoping he wasn’t that to you. A good fuck, and you were gone again, back to ignoring him.
Taehyung worried about that whenever he wasn’t keeping busy, so he did stuff all the time, even deciding to go to a school game just to avoid being alone. Of course, he ran into Hoseok there, and they both had more than a couple of drinks in them by that point. In Taehyung’s mind, Hoseok was the fucking cause of everything.
If he hadn’t meddled, none of it would have happened. Did he have to walk in on you two having sex? Taehyung was getting the feeling that the guy followed you around like a puppy. Hoseok spoke about you with such annoyance in his voice, even though he was the one who was dating someone else. That could only mean he still had some kind of feelings for you and that those feelings were hurt.
Is that why he chose to join that threesome? Taehyung couldn’t see how that would help Hoseok. Watching someone you care about getting fucked stupid by a guy you can’t stand wouldn’t be on his top ways of getting back together with someone, but what did he know? Taehyung definitely wasn’t a fuck-buddy expert. Still, he could never watch a guy fuck you, not after that time. It was off limits now, anyway.
After all that, did Hoseok really have to tell you those things, call you a slut for fucking them? He was the slut in the situation, and Taehyung didn’t mean it as an insult. Hoseok was dating someone else and decided to join you two. He had no business telling you those things or implying Taehyung or you were just good for sex. Hoseok was the one who fucked everything up, probably in the hopes of getting on your good side again, getting to fuck you the way you’ve only let Taehyung fuck you for weeks now.
So, when the guy threw a simple insult his way, Taehyung practically exploded. It was on their way out of the uni building. He couldn’t even remember what Hoseok said, but it involved you and him, and it was said sarcastically, in a way that implied you two were done. And that was something Taehyung couldn’t stand.
How the fuck would Hoseok know that if he wasn’t talking to you? Wasn’t that the goal all along? Were you two now in cahoots, fucking again, making fun of Taehyung behind his back for being an idiot and falling for you? It didn’t sound right, but Hoseok’s snicker told him otherwise.
That was why Taehyung ended up grabbing Hoseok by his shirt and slamming him against the wall, not even caring about all their friends being around, about random strangers being there. Fuck them and fuck anyone who’d stand up for the dude who was trying to rile him up.
“Shut the fuck up already!” he hissed at your ex-fuck buddy, who just laughed loudly and shook his head at Taehyung. “Don’t want to fucking hear you mention her again!”
“Pussy whipped!” Hoseok grunted and pushed Taehyung’s hands away. Soon enough, people started gathering around them, telling them to chill, so they both left, each in a different direction.
The encounter left a bitter taste in Taehyung’s mouth, mostly because he acted like a moron just because he heard your name being mentioned. What was even more embarrassing than his little emotional outburst was that you found out about it.
No word from you for a week, and then you texted the second he got into it with Hoseok, as if you were in constant contact with the jerk, as if you wanted to be with him. Did you? Maybe Taehyung was the one who got in between two people who had a thing and he was now paying for it.
You: this behavior is really childish and i HOPE it has nothing to do with us
Wow. It kind of hurt to see your text, especially since you’ve been silent for a long while. The only reason you stopped ignoring him was to tell him that, to stand up for your former (or maybe current) fuck-buddy? Great. Things were just peachy.
Taehyung: there’s no us, right!?
You: grow up!!
you can find the masterlist here and share your feedback with me here, if you want to. if you enjoy reading my stories, please consider supporting me using buymeacoffee. thank you! :)
he’s been taking notes from jimin
- game on! a park jisung smau -
a story in which y/n finds herself meeting her roblox bestie in real life. turns out he’s not exactly everything she hoped for… who would’ve thought her nemesis park jisung would be user plumblossomer
astronomy-major!jisung x astronomy-major!reader
genre : humour, crack, strangers to enemies to lovers, college au, slow burn, y/n prefers dying over admitting her feelings, jisung is lowkey mean at times..
warnings : death/sex jokes, curses a lot, im not an astronomy major so this is bound to be funny
status : ongoing (i haven’t decided how regularly i’ll update 😋)
notes : im doing ittttt im litchrally saur excited to start this i missed doing a smau
profiles : 00 - 00
masterlist:
freaks 😈
kys
face reveal
no tutoring
i love penises
blocked
growth
freaky/n
desperation
no fucking way
tanghulu
making out
grubby hands
babe
the world is healed
weird
uncomfortable
trial run
short king
sleepover
Jealous Of Holly ~ Min Yoongi
Your smile was weak as you watched Yoongi walk into the bedroom, watching Holly follow his every footstep into the room. You were hoping for one night, just one, where you could cuddle up to Yoongi without having any interruptions.
“Are we falling asleep as three tonight?” You questioned, watching Yoongi shut the door whilst pointing to the bed for Holly to jump on. As soon as he did, he made his way to Yoongi’s pillow, almost completely ignoring you.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Yoongi smiled in reply, “I think someone’s feeling a little bit needy.”
“When isn’t that certain someone feeling a little needy?”
Your comment caused Yoongi’s eyes to narrow as he kept his eyes on you whilst making his way across to his wardrobe. You paid no attention to him though, staring down into your lap, keeping the corner of your eye on what Holly was doing beside you.
“You don’t mind Holly falling asleep up here with us, do you?” Yoongi asked as he pulled his pyjamas out.
“I guess not,” you frowned, trying your best not to hurt Yoongi’s feelings with your own frustrations. “Holly’s a part of the family, of course, he should stay with us too.”
Yoongi’s head shook, pulling out his clothes before taking a seat at the bottom of the bed, “are you sure that you’re really alright about this Y/N, you seem a little…annoyed?”
You didn’t want to seem annoyed or irritated by Holly, most of the time you loved having him around, but during the evenings, you just wished for a little bit of space. Holly’s habit of cuddling as closely to Yoongi as possible left you feeling left out, with distance between the two of you every single night.
To begin with you’d hoped it would just be a phase, that he’d get bored and find a new spot to lay in, but after three weeks, you were beginning to tire of falling asleep by yourself, almost as if you should be in a completely different room and giving the two of them their own space.
Despite how irritated you were though, you knew that having Holly around didn’t bother Yoongi, he loved having you and Holly in the room. The one thing that he failed to see, which you always hoped he would see was how far away he slept from you every night, barely even able to find the room to hold onto his hand.
“Are we going to play this game tonight?” Yoongi challenged, “I’ll break you down until you tell me what it is that’s on your mind.”
“It’s no big deal,” you lied in response, looking away from Holly and out of the window in an attempt to calm yourself down.
As he followed your gaze, Yoongi soon picked up on what the problem was. His eyes landed on Holly who was busy washing at the bottom of Yoongi’s pillow, shuffling slowly across to your side of the bed to start innocently placing a wedge between the two of you.
“Do you want me to put him downstairs in his bed?” Yoongi suddenly spoke up.
“No,” you whispered, knowing without even looking what he was on about, “this is just as much Holly’s house as it is mine, it’s probably Holly’s even more.”
“But this isn’t Holly’s bed like it is yours.”
Your shoulders shrugged as Yoongi stood up and moved around to be in your eyeline again. “I shouldn’t be getting jealous over a dog; this is stupid anyway.”
“No,” Yoongi frowned, leaning down beside your end of the bed, “he has been a little bit clingy recently, I’ll admit, and maybe that has meant that I’ve not been able to be around you.”
“I can look after myself, I’m human, but Holly’s a dog, he needs you.”
Yoongi’s head shook back at you, refusing to let you play down your feelings. He got it, even if he hadn’t always made you feel that way, as he thought, he knew that the distance had been growing, he had just hoped that it would be something that would pass.
“Why don’t I go downstairs and bring his dog bed up, see if he’ll sleep in it up here knowing that we’re still around?” Yoongi offered, “it might get him off the bed.”
“Don’t you think he’ll just jump back up,” you sighed in reply, glancing momentarily across to the dog who was slowly pressing behind you, “it’s you that he wants.”
As far as Yoongi was concerned, it was worth a shot anyway as he made his way downstairs. The two of you needed your space still, no matter how big of a part of the family Holly was, his time had to be shared more equally.
The moment Yoongi arrived back in the room, Holly was looking up, noticing something familiar in his arms. Yoongi placed the bed down beside his side of the bed, tapping it gently to try and encourage Holly to give it a look.
“It’s just your bed, remember how fluffy and soft it is?”
After a few moments of encouragement, Holly jumped down into the bed, positioning himself right by Yoongi’s hand. You rolled across to be able to take a look at what was going on, noticing Holly beginning to settle on top of the material.
“There we go,” Yoongi whispered, slowly lifting his hand out, hoping that it wouldn’t encourage Holly to move. “How about you try and sleep down here tonight?”
“He still doesn’t look completely convinced by the idea.”
Once he was changed and into his pyjamas, Yoongi slowly slid across into the bed, keeping nice and quiet as he turned the light off in the hope that Holly wouldn’t notice him, not even looking in his direction to risk making eye contact.
He knew that Holly was still comfortable, even if he wasn’t going to be pressed against his chest for the night. But most of all, Yoongi could tell that you were a little more settled not having something separate you both again.
“How’s this?” Yoongi whispered, reaching underneath the duvet to take a hold of your hand, “I forgot how comfy it could be just the two of us.”
“I still kind of feel bad,” you admitted with a chuckle, “I didn’t want to force Holly to sleep down there, I just wish that he wouldn’t sleep right between the two of us. Can’t you put his bed at the bottom of the bed or something?”
“He’ll be alright,” Yoongi assured you, “he’s slept in worse places, remember the makeshift bed that we had for him at the studio once, that was horrendous.”
Your head nodded in reply to the memory, “sometimes I think he’s still bitter towards you for making him sleep in Jungkook’s stinky jumper.”
Despite your hurt at being pushed aside at night, Yoongi knew that you still had a soft spot inside you for Holly. You were the first one up to take him for walks or filling up his food dish when it was mealtime. But Yoongi knew too that space was needed for you both, even if Holly didn’t always agree with that.
“I reckon he’ll be bitter towards you now,” Yoongi teased, squeezing your hand, “I’ll make sure he knows who put him on the floor.”
“You were the one that got his bed,” you reminded Yoongi, “if anyone here is to blame, it’s you, you’ve got a habit now of this.”
“Maybe he’ll just end up hating both of us.”
—
Masterlist
mark lee and joshua hong are the opposite type of youth pastor, like josh is all smiley at church and spends the rest of the week doing hard drugs in the basement of his friend’s cousin’s polycule’s house and blowing dudes in bar bathrooms, meanwhile mark lee has never even seen a marijuana and is saving his first kiss for marriage
❥・word count: 25.5k ❥・genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, single dad kun, single mom reader, there is some angst but not between reader and kun, more-so around them in terms of like life events ❥・warnings: cursing, kid on kid violence (biting lol) ❥・extra info: people are called ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’ in this so if u can’t be normal abt that maybe skip this one ❥・author’s note: omggg it’s finally here! this one has been a wip for like literally like 1.5 yrs i think? anyway im absolutely in love w single dad kun in this one, and i hope u guys fall in love w him too 🫶
“Mr. Qian, I’m failing to see how this is any of your concern.”
“Because you’re treating my kid like he’s a felon.”
“Well yours treated mine like a chew toy so excuse me for exercising some caution,” you finally snapped, tightening your grip around your son and cradling the back of his head.
PART I: moments turn to dreams within my mind
Woobin had always been a kid with big feelings, from big smiles to big tears, and as his mom you encouraged him to feel those big feelings when they came. Your older cousin often warned you that you were raising a “crybaby,” but you brushed off her attempts at parenting advice. You’d rather have your Woobin and all his softness than her kid who screamed and threw his monster trucks at the wall at the slightest provocation.
But that didn’t make it any easier for you to walk in and see your son bawling by himself in the corner of his classroom when you went to pick him up from preschool that afternoon. You immediately skirted around a couple other kids and parents to kneel down beside him, feeling your heart breaking as you rubbed his back, “Binnie, Binnie, hey, hey, hey. Mommy’s here.”
You caught the three-year-old by the underarms before he could throw his arms around your neck. His face was bright red, eyes puffy from clearly how hard he had been crying, and snot and spit coated his chin.
“Wait a second, Binnie, I know,” you kept your voice level and calm despite how frantic you felt. “Is it a scary cry or a boo-boo cry?”
It took him several deep inhales and sniffling exhales before he could sob out, “Scary and boo-boo cry, Mommy!”
“Oh, baby,” you immediately enfolded him in your arms, cradling him to your chest gently. “What hurts, Binnie? Can you show me the boo-boo?”
It was then that one of his teachers finally joined you, an apologetic look on her face, “Ms. Y/N, I am so sorry. We would have called, but it happened right before the end of the school day.”
“What happened?”
“Woobin had an incident with another friend.”
“An incident? What sort of incident?” You looked around for another crying kid, expecting that they both had gotten hurt doing something together.
Woobin had just pulled up the left sleeve of his whale patterned longsleeve shirt when his teacher explained to you, “Woobin got bit.”
And there, on your son’s upper arm was the bright red imprint of teeth marks. In fact, it seemed to have been so recent that you could still see the indents in his skin. You were filled with such a burning, white hot rage that your skin tingled and if you weren’t already holding Woobin, you think you would’ve swung on someone. You liked to consider yourself a level-headed person, in control of your emotions, but it was practically all out the window in that moment.
“He got bit?” You repeated her phrasing incredulously. “You mean another kid bit him.”
“I understand that this can be upsetting—”
“How did this happen?” You demanded, pulling Woobin’s sleeve back down and wrapping your arms around him tighter. “What were you doing?”
“Ma’am, I think it would be best for all of us to have a discussion about this together.”
“All of us? Including the biter’s parents? I want to know what you are going to do to make sure my child is safe at your preschool before I even think about bringing him back here, much less have some mediation like he’s at fault as much as the kid who bit him.”
The teacher paused, as if waiting to see if you were done, before speaking again, “Ms. Y/N, it is our policy in such incidents to have a meeting between school personnel and the guardians of both involved children, regardless of... injury. In order for Woobin to keep his spot, you two are required to attend this meeting. We understand if you wish to seek out different accommodations for him, however, we’ve found that all parties are typically satisfied with the outcome of this process. I highly encourage you try it, and if you still want to pull Woobin from our program after, that is of course your decision as his mother.”
Your chest was heaving as you took deep breaths, clenching your jaw as you stared her down. After a few moments of deliberation and listening to your son’s continued sobs, you let out a short and bitter sigh, “When would this meeting be?”
“After school tomorrow. Will you be available then?”
“Fine. Yes,” you stood up with your boy still in your arms, shifting him onto your hip. “But Woobin will not be at school tomorrow.”
“He will be missed,” she nodded with that same placid smile.
As you stalked out of the classroom, you passed by a father and son speaking to the other teacher.
The next day, you dropped Woobin off at your parents’ place with a peck on his forehead and profuse ‘thank you’s to them. You had vented to your mother on the phone the night prior, after putting your son to bed, finally letting loose all the obscenities that you had wanted to in the preschool. Your mom gladly took her grandson for the day before shooing you off to work.
You then had to leave work a little early to pick Woobin up from your parents’ to take him to the preschool since the meeting was to take place right after the school day ended. For some godforsaken reason that escaped you, they required the kids to be in attendance at the meeting too. As if your three-year-old was really going to be testifying about the entire situation. The most him being there could accomplish was prove that he had a bite mark, which a picture on your phone could also do.
After a “give ‘em hell” from your mom, and an offer to come along from your dad, which you contemplated for a moment, then declined, you started for the school. While your dad coming along would make you feel better, it would also make you feel like you were buying your first car again and were afraid of the salesman trying to scam you for being a woman. This was a meeting about the welfare and treatment of your son, you could do this.
Standing in the lobby with some other parents who were milling around, waiting for the respective classrooms to announce they were ready for pick-up, you found yourself tapping your foot impatiently. The 1-year-olds picked up first, then the 2-year-olds. As those families filtered out, you were left with only a few parents, as this section of the school only went up to 3-year-olds. The 4-year-olds went to a different wing of the building for VPK, and you knew that the other buildings on the rather expansive campus held an elementary, middle, and even high school.
You felt Woobin shift in your arms to get comfortable, and readjusted him to your other hip, “Sorry, Binnie, I know you’re tired.”
“Do you two want to sit?” A voice spoke up from behind you.
You turned around and had to look down at a man in a suit sitting on one of the padded benches in the lobby. He was presumably some kind of businessman from the nice upkeep and fit of his suit, even as he had loosened the tie a little bit for being off of work. His handsome, friendly smile would’ve made your heart skip a beat on any other day, if you weren’t on a mission today.
All of the seating had been taken up when you got there, and you didn’t even think to look around for open spots as other parents started to leave.
The man shifted to one end, gesturing towards the open spots that could fit probably three adults comfortably. You smiled at him gratefully, “Oh, yes, thank you.”
You sat down, keeping your sleepy Woobin on your lap. Being at his grandparents’ today had thrown off his usual nap schedule, and you rubbed his back soothingly. Rolling up his sleeve which was on the side opposite from the man, you inspected the bite mark. It had blossomed into a rather gnarly bruise overnight, all blue and purple, and it only made anger churn again in your chest. He hadn’t given any indication that it still hurt as you fixed his sleeve, thumb tenderly swiping over the area after.
Finally, the three-year-old class was dismissed for pick-up, and the other parents gathered their children. You hung back, waiting for all of them to filter out, before you approached the classroom. You figured the parents of the biter would still be in there, but hadn’t expected the man who had offered you a seat to be the one there with another little boy and the teachers.
“Wonderful, everyone is here,” Mrs. Chen, the older of the two teachers, announced.
“Qian Kun.” The man took it upon himself to do the introductions, bowing to you politely. He then ruffled the hair of the boy standing beside him, just above knee-height, “And this is my son Junyi. I am deeply sorry for Junyi biting Woobin, Miss…?”
“Y/L/N Y/N,” you half-nodded half-bowed back to him as best you could with Woobin in your arms. “And before we get into all that, what I really want to know is—” You rounded on the teachers. “How this could have even happened.”
Ms. Xu, the younger teacher with whom you had spoken yesterday, opened a door on the far side of the classroom, “Of course. We’ll be having the meeting in here.”
With a short sigh at how your question was once again brushed off, you stepped into the interior office space. It looked like it must be where the teachers took their breaks and did any sort of administrative work. A few desks were against the walls, closed laptops and bags set on a couple of them. There was a table set up in the middle, four chairs around it, and a small area with toys off to the side.
“We have a place over there for the children to play while we discuss,” Ms. Xu smiled, gesturing to the toys you’d spotted when you walked in.
Mr. Qian nodded, gently directing his son towards them, “Go on and play for a bit, Junyi. Daddy’s going to talk right over here, okay?”
Junyi toddled over and plopped himself down on the playmat, picking up a truck and doll, easily entertaining himself. The other three adults looked to you and your son expectantly.
“Thank you, but Woobin is going to be staying with me,” you informed them. All the talking had made Woobin stir, but he seemed rather content in your arms anyway, simply looking between all the adults with big, curious eyes.
“Ms. Y/L/N, I assure you, I had a talk with Junyi last night and again this morning about not biting our friends. He shouldn’t be doing that anymore.”
“And I assure you, Mr. Qian, my concerns are not about your parenting,” you told him frankly. “But Woobin will be remaining with me for the duration of this meeting.”
“Ms. Y/L/N, really, Woobin will be fine with Juny—”
“Mr. Qian, I’m failing to see how this is any of your concern.”
“Because you’re treating my kid like he’s a felon.”
“Well yours treated mine like a chew toy so excuse me for exercising some caution,” you finally snapped, tightening your grip around your son and cradling the back of his head.
Mr. Qian’s jaw dropped, and Mrs. Chen cut in before he could say anything else.
“Let’s all sit down and try to have a more productive discussion.” The words were phrased like a suggestion, but the stern tone she said them in very much let you know that they weren’t. “Ms. Y/L/N, Woobin can of course be wherever you are most comfortable having him.”
You nodded to her curtly, taking a seat at the table. With Woobin more awake, you turned him in your lap to face the table, and set up a couple toys and small games on the tabletop to keep him occupied. The teachers took a seat beside each other, leaving you and Mr. Qian sitting caddy-corner.
“First, I want to know what happened,” you demanded, entirely focused on the two teachers.
Ms. Xu took over the explaining, “The class had earned free play yesterday after finishing their curriculum work early. After, we were doing our end of the day clean-up activities, which all of the students help with. Junyi and Woobin were assigned to pick up toys this week. It seems there was a disagreement about who was going to be putting away a specific toy, a whale. Woobin was bit.”
You clenched your jaw at that passive phrasing again. “And where were you two when this was going on?”
“Mrs. Chen was assisting the students who were cleaning the snack tables on the other side of the room. I was the one overseeing the students tidying that side of the room.”
“What do you mean when you say disagreement? I’m trying to understand how it was allowed to escalate into biting.”
Mr. Qian finally spoke up again, “Ms. Y/L/N, Junyi has never done anything like this before, I honestly don’t know where this came from. He’s not a mean kid.”
“Mr. Qian, that is not what I said nor asked,” you turned to him coolly. “I want to know what exactly she was seeing and how much time she had to intervene.”
Ms. Xu recalled, “The two of them were getting along fine. Junyi did seem to be getting a little frustrated, and Woobin was beginning to tear up, but there was no contact at that point, and we know how Woobin is.”
She glanced at the boy on your lap with a sympathetic look, and it took everything in you to hold back your revulsion at her. Yes, your son was quicker to cry than others, but that didn’t mean that as the adult, she shouldn’t investigate what exactly was making him cry.
“I was keeping an eye on the situation to see if they would resolve it on their own,” she tried to reassure you. “If I had thought that it would escalate like that at all, I promise I would have intervened. The contact was entirely unexpected and very sudden.”
“The biting.” You clarified flatly.
“Well, yes,” she nodded. “As soon as I saw it happen, both Mrs. Chen and I went over and separated the two. It was no more than a second or two at most, Ms. Y/N.”
“It sounds like you two did the best you could’ve,” Mr. Qian told the teachers before turning to you once more. “Ms. Y/L/N, again, I am so sorry that Junyi did this, but it sounds like it really did come out of nowhere.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deeply to recenter yourself. Entirely ignoring Mr. Qian’s platitudes, you looked at the teacher, “It took you just a second or two to separate them?”
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“Binnie, may I?” You murmured to your son, reaching for the sleeve of his shirt.
“Okay, Mommy,” he easily let go of his toy for you.
Rolling up the longsleeve of his shirt you turned him a little to show off the deep black, blue, and purple bruise in the perfect shape of a set of little teeth to the other three adults sitting around the table with you. Ms. Xu audibly gasped, Mrs. Chen covered her mouth and looked away, and Mr. Qian had the most visceral reaction, grimacing with his whole upper body as if he’d been slapped.
“I simply find it hard to believe that it was only a mere one or two seconds when my son’s arm looks like this now,” you stated, making firm eye contact with both teachers. “So, I will ask again: How long did it take you to separate them?”
Mrs. Chen and Ms. Xu exchanged uncomfortable looks before the older woman took over speaking.
“Ms. Y/N, I’m not sure if you’ve had experience with removing a child that’s bitten onto another and won’t let go, but you can’t simply rip them apart without causing further damage to the other child’s skin. Ms. Xu couldn’t separate them on her own, she had to wait for me to get there, and as we’ve already said, I was on the other side of the classroom. So yes, it did take longer than we would have liked to separate the two.”
“So it took longer than two seconds, which is what you just told me, twice. You have lied to me twice now about how my child got injured in your classroom.” You rolled Woobin’s sleeve back down, absentmindedly patting his head. Leaning forward as much as you could with him there, you jutted your pointer finger decidedly into the tabletop outside of his toys, “So now I want to know what you and the school are going to do to ensure my son’s safety in your classroom.”
The father beside you suddenly jolted into action at your words, “Ms. Y/L/N, Junyi won’t—”
You rounded on him incredulously, doing your best to both be firm while not absolutely losing it on him, “Mr. Qian, I have already told you that I am not here to concern myself with how you parent your child. And I think the fact that you take my concern for my own child’s wellbeing as an affront to your relationship with yours says more than I would ever think is appropriate for me to.”
Okay, maybe you lost it on him a little.
With him sufficiently dumbfounded, you were able to focus back on the school staff in front of you, “Now please, can we get back to the topic at hand? I want to know what you two plan on doing about classroom management and observing the children under your care to prevent future incidents like this from happening. And I want it written down in a formal document, with assurances from your superiors about how both that and your staff training on communication with parents will be handled, because it certainly can’t include lying to them.”
Ms. Xu looked down at her lap guiltily, while Mrs. Chen simply looked disgruntled. You held the older woman’s gaze steadily, having a distinct feeling that little lie you’d been told was her doing, and the junior teacher was following her own superior’s lead.
“Of course, Ms. Y/N. I will call the principal right now to aid in drawing up the document you’ve requested,” Mrs. Chen acquiesced, standing up and moving over to one of the desks, picking up the landline phone sitting there.
You nodded to her, finally letting your eyes drop down to your kid in your lap. You were unable to fight off the smile that spread across your lips as you looked at your son, picking up one of his hands and bringing it up to your mouth to kiss his little fingers.
“My turn Mommy!” He squealed, grabbing one of your fingers and giving it a comically loud smooch.
You could feel Mr. Qian’s gobsmacked stare on you still, but ignored him. You’d done what you came here to do, none of which involved making nice with the biter’s parents. While what you’d said about not wanting to comment on his parenting was true, that didn’t mean that you hadn’t formed a silent opinion or two about it, especially with how defensive he was. Needless to say, with how he’d attempted to handle this, you didn’t really think very highly of Mr. Qian.
After leaving the mediation with your own copy of the formal plan on how the three-year-old classroom’s management and safety procedures were going to be tweaked—with specific policies about biting and inter-student de-escalation—and a form that you and Mr. Qian had signed attesting that you participated in and were satisfied with the mediation process, you paused in the lobby of the school. You were juggling too many things: the papers, some of Woobin’s toys, Woobin, your purse, all while trying to get your car keys.
“Hey, you need some help?”
You turned to Mr. Qian with a strained smile, “No, thank you, we’re okay.”
Considering the conversation over, you went to set Woobin down on the ground, “Here, Binnie, wait right here next to Mommy.”
“Oh, glad to see his legs do work.” The man was apparently still there.
“Yes, they do.” You pressed your lips into a flat line, not very amused. “And I don’t appreciate the passive-aggressive comment on my parenting, Mr. Qian.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Your joke was referencing the fact that the entire time you’ve seen Woobin and me this afternoon, I’ve been either carrying him or holding him in my lap, despite the fact that he can stand on his own. You’ve been letting your son walk on his own all afternoon and haven’t picked him up once. Thus, implying that I’m coddling my son and raising him to be dependent on me, while you’re raising yours to be independent.” You tossed Woobin’s toys into your purse, then folded the papers in half to tuck in as well. “Trust me, I’ve dealt with lots of people thinking they can give me unwarranted advice on parenting. Especially men who think I’m going to give him one too many hugs and he’ll develop an Oedipus complex. They also presumably think that my uterus is roaming around my body causing me to become hysterical while I’m telling them off, too.”
Having finally fished your car keys out from the bottom of your purse, you hoisted Woobin back up into your arms, defiantly making eye contact with the father, “Goodbye, Mr. Qian.”
A couple weeks of uneventfully picking up Woobin from preschool passed by. You saw Mr. Qian in the lobby, or passed by him in the classroom, of course. But you made no moves to talk to or even acknowledge him, nor he you. Ms. Xu seemed genuinely apologetic about what happened, doing everything possible to ingratiate herself to you at every opportunity, chatting you up at pick-up, asking about your day at work, or telling you about how well Woobin did at curriculum or art or such during the day. Mrs. Chen was cordial, and did your requested weekly check-ins on how the implementation of the new procedures were coming along. You sincerely engaged with and thanked her after each update. After all, you wanted your relationship with your son’s teachers to be productive, not adversarial. As long as they were done lying to you.
Today when you went to pick up Woobin, he was contently sitting in his chair at a table, swinging his feet under him. You squatted down beside him, mussing up his hair a bit, “Hey, Binnie. Have a good day?”
“Yes,” he nodded, reaching out towards you, and you grabbed his hand. “Missed Mommy.”
“And I missed Binnie!” You replied, squeezing his little tummy, delighting in the bright little giggle he let out. “Now come on, bubbles, let’s go home.”
“Oh, Ms. Y/N!” Ms. Xu was suddenly at your side before you could stand up.
“Ah, hello, Ms. Xu, how are you?”
“I’m very excited, actually. But first, Woobin had a fantastic day at school today. He went down so easy for naptime, and he finished the curriculum so fast that we brought out a 4-year-old worksheet for him just to see, and he did that one too! It was some counting, and he did great!”
You turned to your son with a grin, “Did you have fun doing all that counting, Binnie?”
He nodded enthusiastically.
“And are you proud of yourself, bubbles?”
“Yes, Mommy. Can I have a high five?”
“You can have two high fives,” you held out both your palms for him to smack his little hands into.
Turning back to the teacher, you indulged her in the question she very clearly wanted you to ask, “And why are you so excited, Ms. Xu?”
She handed you the piece of paper in her hands, “Well, the Fall Festival is coming up. The entire campus pitches in to put it on, and this year the preschool is running the Bake Sale table. We’re asking parents to volunteer to either bring treats, set up, break down, or do a shift running the table. If you’re able.”
It looked like you were the first parent Ms. Xu had given the sign-up sheet to, all the slots were empty. Eight slots to bring different baked goods, and two slots for each hour-long shift. While you weren’t exactly feeling charitable to the school—Woobin’s bruise still hadn’t fully healed—you noticed the text at the top of the sign-up sheet advertising that any parent who volunteered would get two free ride tickets. Woobin hadn’t gone on his first Ferris Wheel yet, and that was a memory you were looking forward to making with him.
“The ride tickets—” You tapped that part of the paper to draw Ms. Xu’s attention to it. “Will there be a Ferris Wheel?”
Her face immediately lit up and she nodded fervently, “Yes! And Woobin should be just big enough as long as he sits in your lap.”
Well, you could kill an hour running a Bake Sale table with another random preschooler’s parent then take Woobin on the Ferris Wheel. You quickly scribbled down your name for the first hour after the set-up shift, then handed the paper back to Ms. Xu.
The day of the Fall Festival was upon you, and you were holding Woobin’s hand as you walked across the expansive campus grounds. The booth where the preschool’s Bake Sale was set up was near the other food and carnival games towards the front of the grassy clearing, and you could see the Ferris Wheel at the very back. You were about fifteen minutes early, and most vendors were still finishing setting up. Since you were doing the first shift, you wanted to make sure you weren’t late, as well as see if there was anything from set up that you could help with if needed.
The Bake Sale booth was easy to find, and you saw two men there carrying in large tubs filled with containers of various baked goods.
“Good morning!” You greeted them brightly. “Are you the set-up crew?”
“Johnny Suh,” the taller of the two gestured to himself, then to his companion, “Jeong Jaehyun.”
“Nice to meet you two, I’m Y/L/N Y/N, and this is Woobin. I’m on the first shift. Your kids are in the three-year-old class as well, right?”
“Yes, Sungchan,” Mr. Jeong confirmed with a smile. “I think I’ve seen you around the classroom at drop off and pick up before.”
“And Mark is my boy,” Mr. Suh nodded, then looked around the property. “Well, these are the last of it. Now, he should be around here somewhere…”
You followed Mr. Suh’s gaze, and your stomach dropped as you recognized two familiar figures approaching the table from the direction of the school. Qian Kun was holding a metal box in one hand, and his son’s hand with the other. He set the metal box down on the table.
“Sorry, had to get the money box from Mrs. Chen in the classroom,” he explained, then looked to the two men with you. “Thank you, Mr. Suh, Mr. Jeong. Ms. Y/L/N and I have got it from here.”
“Alright, we’ll see you at the end for break-down, then,” Mr. Suh slapped Mr. Qian’s shoulder in a friendly gesture.
“Goodbye, Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Qian. You too, Woobin and Junyi!” Mr. Jeong gave waves to all four of you before taking off after the other man who was already several long strides away from the table. “Hey, Johnny!”
Two pop-up chairs were set up behind the table, and Mr. Qian grabbed a bag that was beside one, unfurling a playmat from the inside and laying it down on the ground beside the table. He poured out a bunch of toys too, then squatted down beside his son.
“Alright, Junyi, I need you to look at me. Daddy needs you to play on this blanket today, okay? If you need to go off the blanket, you have to tell Daddy first. It’s so we can stay safe. You cannot leave the blanket without telling Daddy. All your favorite toys are there, you’re going to play with them and have fun. I’ve got snacks and stuff, too. But you need to stay on it. Do you understand, Junyi?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Okay, can you please tell me what you’re going to do then?”
“I’m going to play on the blanket.”
“And what if you want to leave?”
“I ask Daddy.”
“Why?”
Junyi’s face screwed into a pout as he tried to remember. “I forgot, ‘m sorry…”
“That’s okay, buddy. It’s so we can be safe,” Mr. Qian repeated it for him. “Now, why are we going to stay on the blanket?”
“So we can be safe.”
“Good, buddy,” He ruffled his son’s hair. “Now go play, I’ll be right here at this table.”
The man stood up straight again, his eyes flicking over you briefly as he began organizing the sweets on the table.
“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N. Woobin is welcome to play on the mat with Junyi during the shift, if you’re comfortable with that, of course.”
“Oh, thank you.” You led Woobin over to the mat as well. “Binnie, Mommy is going to be working for a while at this table. Your job is to stay on the playmat with Junyi, so that you two can stay safe, okay? You cannot leave the playmat without Mommy.”
“Okay, Mommy.”
“So tell me, what are you going to do?”
“Play with Junyi.”
“Where?”
“On the playmat.”
“Can you show Mommy what all the playmat is?”
He pointed to the edges of the yellow and blue blanket for you.
“And are you going to leave it without Mommy?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“So I can be safe.”
You grinned at him, “Thank you, bubbles. Go play, baby. Call for Mommy if you need me, okay?”
“Okay.”
After depositing a few more toys that you had brought along for Woobin on the mat, you returned to where Mr. Qian was setting out the food.
“Here,” he held a tray of brownies out to you. “These will go there, right in front of you.”
“Oh, got it.” You set them down exactly where he gestured. “So, you signed up for set up and the first shift?”
“I’m actually helping to run the Bake Sale, so I’m setting up, breaking down, and filling in for whichever slots nobody signed up for.”
“Wait, did you bake these, too?”
“Only the ones in containers with the green lids. Other parents contributed too.”
You looked over the baked goods he had indicated. All the ones in the green containers looked the best, you had considered in the back of your mind that one of the richer parents might have just bought them from a bakery and brought them in instead of baking themselves.
Sneaking a glance at the man beside you, you then panicked when you realized that he was already looking at you, expectantly holding out a plate of frosted sugar cookies.
“Here, next to the brownies.”
“Right, on it.”
Mr. Qian cleared his throat, “I am surprised, Ms. Y/L/N… that you’re allowing Woobin to play with Junyi.”
“I’ve also allowed him back at school for the past month, Mr. Qian.” You pointed out. “As I said, my issue has never been with Junyi, but with how the school handled the entire situation.”
“Hm.”
You let out a short sigh, “Though, I am sorry for some of the things I said at that meeting, they were out of line.”
“Some? May I inquire about which ones?”
“The chew toy thing…”
“Oh, yes.”
“And the whole ‘my concern over my child’s safety not being an affront to your relationship with yours.’ That was seriously… awful of me. Just so pretentious,” you breathed out, feeling ashamed as you relived your words. But if you were to ever expect to teach your son humility and owning up to his mistakes, you had to practice it yourself. “I said I wasn’t there to comment on your parenting and then I did exactly that in the exact same breath. I’m sorry, Mr. Qian, and I hope you can believe me when I say that.”
He held your gaze steadily, “I forgive you, Ms. Y/L/N.”
“Everything else I said, though, I stand by,” you reaffirmed pointedly.
“I understand,” he nodded.
You were pretty sure the festival had officially opened, as families had begun filtering in. Some were slowing down as they passed by your table to skim their eyes over your offerings, but none had stopped so far. So you were still just stuck there with Qian Kun and the overwhelming silence that felt like it was damn near suffocating you.
“So, what do you do for a living?” You finally decided to ask. If you weren’t going to be holding a grudge against the guy, you might as well make small talk.
“I’m in sales.”
Okay, small talk was not his forte. This was going to be like pulling teeth.
“Well it seems like they put the Bake Sale table in good hands, then.”
“What about you?” At least he understood reciprocity.
“Publishing.” Yeah, you weren’t any better than him. You stumbled to add on more information, “Uh, I’m a copy editor.”
“Is that like a proof reader?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
And at that moment, your blessed first customers walked up to your booth, a group of high school students, and you leapt at the opportunity to get out of that awkward conversation.
When your hour shift was finally over, you gleefully picked Woobin and his toys up from the playmat, took your two free ride tickets from Mr. Qian, and waved goodbye to him and the new volunteer parent who had shown up to take over your slot.
“Alright, Binnie, the Fall Festival is our oyster,” you looked it over with shining eyes. “What should we do first?”
Two hours later, and you were just finishing up your slightly late lunch. You scrolled through the delightful pictures that you’d taken of you and Woobin on the Ferris Wheel, sending a couple to your parents before tucking your phone away.
“Dessert sounds good, don’t you think?” You suggested to Woobin, and the Bake Sale popped into your mind. Those desserts that Mr. Qian made had looked really good, and you weren’t able to try any when you were working the table this morning…
“Please, Mommy?”
“You didn’t even need to ask, bubbles, Mommy wants some dessert too,” you admitted, taking his hand in yours. “I think we should go get some of those sweets that Junyi’s dad made. How does that sound? Did you see them earlier?”
There was a short line that you bumped up against at the Bake Sale table, just a couple families ahead of you. When you finally got to the front, your greeting to Mr. Qian stopped in your throat as you took in the empty spot beside him.
“Are you all by yourself, Mr. Qian?” You craned your neck to look around for signs of another parent.
He let out a tired sigh very clearly from deep within, eyes conveying a harrowed, ominous kind of exhaustion, “It seems as though the parent who signed up for the last four slots has skipped out on me. Been by myself for the past thirty minutes or so. I gave up on him about fifteen minutes ago.”
With a resolute nod, you hoisted your son up onto your hip and slid around to the other side of the table to stand beside Mr. Qian, “Binnie and I will finish the day out with you two then.”
“No, Ms. Y/L/N, you really don’t have to. I’m sure you have things to do, and I can run a preschool Bake Sale by myself.”
“Junyi! Come play with Woobin over here please!” You called after the little boy that you’d spotted toddling a little too far away from the playmat for comfort.
The man whipped around as his son came waddling back over at the sound of his name, clearly unaware that he had just wandered off. He squatted down to chastise the boy, reminding him to stay on the blanket. Junyi nodded, plopping down with his toys.
“I’m not leaving you out to dry, Kun,” you told the father frankly, sitting Woobin and his toys back down on the playmat too.
He gave you a frazzled smile, “Thanks, Y/N.”
Another couple hours passed by of you and Kun jointly running the Bake Sale table. Word had apparently spread since the first hour that you’d done with him in the morning, and the treats were extremely popular. Your line was never empty for more than a minute or two, and often times wrapped past other booths. Now you could see why Kun was so out of it when you had gotten there, he had been doing this by himself, even for just thirty minutes, with Junyi there.
The two of you fell into a symbiotic rhythm of taking orders, payment, handing out food, and keeping an eye on the two boys with you.
In a rare, brief lull between customers, you were caught off-guard when it was also quiet behind you. The telltale giggles, babbling, and nonsense conversation of Woobin and Junyi had faded out. You frowned thoughtfully as you finished rearranging the brownies in front of you, about to turn around to investigate anyway when a heart-wrenching wail pierced the still air. Immediately, you went to jerk around to comfort your crying Woobin, but were stopped in your tracks, so caught off-guard to see that it wasn’t your son sobbing. He was standing in front of Junyi, who was sat on the playmat, half-crying and half-screaming his head off.
Kun couldn’t get the cash in his hand into the register fast enough, and you rushed over to try to get Woobin to at least back up. Crowding Junyi definitely wasn’t going to help.
But you stopped as you realized that Woobin was talking to the other boy.
“Junyi, scary or boo-boo?” Woobin quietly asked him. After he didn’t get a reply, he asked again, “Scary or boo-boo?”
Junyi managed to blubber out, “Scary!”
Kun had finally arrived on the playmat while you watched on with wide, bewildered, and awestruck eyes as Woobin gave Junyi a big hug. The dad looked even more confused than you.
“What’s going on?”
You held up a finger for him to wait a moment, then turned to your son, “Binnie, do you know what happened to Junyi? Why is he having a scary cry?”
“Junyi fell down, Mommy,” he answered you dutifully.
“Okay, thank you,” you nodded to him. Looking at Kun, you explained, “Seems like Junyi just fell down. I don’t think he’s hurt, it just gave him a scare.”
“Daddy!” Junyi whimpered, and Kun gently extracted him from the other toddler’s arms to bring him into his own. Cradling his son, Kun murmured soft reassurances to him as the boy clung to his neck.
“Uh, thank you, Woobin,” he nodded to your son. “I’ve got Junyi from here.”
“You’re welcome,” Woobin replied, but you could see the moistness gathering in his eyes too. Oh, your big-hearted kid.
Both you and Kun brought your respective kids back to the table with you, sitting in the pop-up chairs with them in your laps. The two of you were quiet until Junyi’s sobs had simmered down into little hiccups, and you could feel that Woobin’s breathing had evened out into a nap.
“Okay, how did you do that?” Kun whispered at you.
“Do what?” You replied just as quietly.
“Get Woobin to do what he just did.”
“By asking him the exact same question pretty much every single time he’s cried for the past three years,” you answered honestly. “And he didn’t use to even answer me, much less ask other people that. That’s the first time he’s ever done that, actually.”
“Huh…”
Mr. Suh and Mr. Jeong came back an hour and a half later to help break down the table. It had been a pretty successful endeavor, if you did say so yourself, as there were only a handful of treats left, which you and Kun offered to a group of high schoolers who came by after break-down.
With everything packed up except the cash drawer, Kun turned to you with finality, “I’ve just got to drop this off with the front office and that’ll be it. Thanks, Y/N. You and Woobin were a big help today.”
“Of course. Sorry about that parent who skipped out on you. Who was it, anyway?”
“A… Mr. Nakamoto?” Kun read off the paper. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“I think I’ve chatted with him in the lobby a couple times. His son’s in the two-year-old class if I remember correctly?” You strained your memory, then gave up. “Oh, whatever. Maybe he just had an emergency or something.”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
“Anyway, have a goodnight, Kun, Junyi,” you nodded to the two of them, then squeezed your son’s hand. “Binnie, we’re leaving, do you want to say something to Junyi and Mr. Qian?”
Your son perked up, giving the two of them a bright smile and big wave, “Goodbye!”
“Junyi?” Kun prompted his son from where he was tucked into the father’s chest. “Tell Ms. Y/L/N and Woobin goodbye, you won’t see Woobin until Monday.”
“Bye, Woobin. Bye… Ms. Y/L/N.” Junyi said in between yawns, rubbing at his eyes. Poor guy seemed absolutely tuckered out.
“Goodnight,” Kun gave you one last nod before heading towards the school, and you and Woobin took off towards your car.
Monday morning you released Woobin’s hand to let him scamper into his classroom, giving Ms. Xu a wave of acknowledgement as you signed the morning drop-off sheet by the door. You were about to take off for work when a hand grabbed your elbow, and you hadn’t even realized that Ms. Xu had approached you, all too focused on heading to work.
“Ms. Y/N!”
“Ah, Ms. Xu, good morning,” you greeted her. “Is something the matter?”
“No, I just wanted to thank you for pitching in with the Bake Sale on Saturday. Mr. Qian informed us that he wouldn’t have been able to pull it off without your help.”
You looked around for Kun. You were only able to spot Junyi, however, coloring with Woobin at a table. Seems like he’d already come and gone. Great, now you had a reputation for being a helpful mom.
You shook off both her hand and her praise, “Oh, really Mr. Qian is exaggerating. He works in sales, did you know? Honestly didn’t need my help.”
“Well, whatever you two did, it was our most successful Bake Sale—well, any kind of fundraising event—for the preschool ever! And, we were wondering if the two of you would consider getting more involved in some parent leadership positions at the school? The preschool PTA have been trying to get a fundraising committee off the ground, and we really think that you two would do a fantastic job spearheading—”
You must have had some kind of look on your face, as Ms. Xu suddenly stopped dead in the middle of her sentence, entirely switching trains of thought. Keeping her same peppy tone and bright, hopeful smile, she said, “I am so sorry to have thrown so much at you. You must have to be getting to work. Why don’t we talk about it later when you come pick Woobin up? All of us, Mr. Qian, too. Goodbye, Ms. Y/N!”
And with that you were ushered out of the door, utterly dumbfounded at what had just happened.
That afternoon, you squared your shoulders and steeled your nerves as you approached the preschool doors. You had to keep your resolution firm: you were absolutely not going to be joining any sort of PTA, fundraising committee, or parent leadership position. The only thing that you were going to be spearheading was cracking open the bottle of wine that was waiting for you at your apartment tonight.
You were a little earlier than you usually were for pick-up, which you had done on purpose, needing to clear the air with a certain Mr. Qian Kun. Immediately homing in on the man, you made a beeline for him. He noticed you, his friendly hand falling as he seemed to notice the set of your brow.
“Good afternoon, Y—”
“Qian Kun,” you cut him off sternly. “Do you care to tell me why I was voluntold for a position spearheading a fundraising committee this morning?”
“Oh, that. Look, it came as a surprise to me too,” he tried to assuage you.
“Why the hell did my name even come out of your mouth in such a discussion in the first place?”
“Because they were praising me on how well the Bake Sale went, and I was making sure you got the credit that you deserved too. Are you upset about that? If so, I’m sorry? I guess?”
“You listen to the words coming out of my mouth: I will be a PTA mom over your dead body,” you hissed, scooching in to take the spot on the bench beside him and free up more standing space for the parents coming in.
“Okay, let’s take a step back from the threats, maybe, Y/N,” Kun suggested, holding his hands up in both a defensive and ‘are you kidding me?’ gesture. “What’s so awful about being a PTA parent in the first place?”
“Free labor for so little reward, and I don’t have the time for that. Do you?”
“We haven’t even heard their proposal; we don’t know what they’d be wanting us to do.”
“‘Spearheading a committee’ sounds like a part-time job at least.”
“Alright, well, didn’t Ms. Xu tell you that you and I held the most successful fundraising event the preschool’s ever had? And that wasn’t even with us making a concerted effort, either, that was just some random mid-grade effort Bake Sale. Imagine what we could do if we really go for it.”
“You work in sales, huh?” You deadpanned after his little pitch was finished. The one-year-old class opened for dismissal, and you leaned in towards him to continue your fervent conversation in a more hushed voice, “And can’t even realize when you’re the one being sold to! You do know that this campus has a bunch of filthy rich donors, right? They’re not hard pressed for cash, they just give the high school priority, then the middle school, primary, and the preschool gets the leftovers—if there’s even any—forcing it to have to fundraise for itself.”
“Isn’t that all the more reason to do this, then?” Kun pushed back.
“We could do a hundred Bake Sales and it wouldn’t make up the difference between the scraps the preschool gets and the millions that the high school does. No, it would be all the more reason for us to go find our own filthy rich donor who would put a stipulation on their donation for it to be used exclusively for the preschool.”
“Oh.”
“You’ve got to think bigger about this, Kun,” you knocked on his forehead with two of your knuckles as best you could in the narrow space between the two of you. “God. You said you work in sales, what do you even do?”
He rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly, red tinging the tips of his ears, “Would you believe me if I said I’m a Director of Sales?”
“No,” you snorted.
“That’s fair.”
“So anyway, glad we’re on the same page about saying no to this.” You went to lean away from him and put some pep back into your tone, watching as the two-year-old class was dismissed next.
“What? I—” he looked around, it was only the three-year-old parents left in the lobby now. You sighed, scooting back over to sit shoulder-to-shoulder again for him to be able to continue in a hushed voice, “I thought we were going to find a donor for the preschool.”
“You want us to go in there, and say yes to leading the preschool PTA’s fundraising committee on the condition that its sole mission is to stage a coup within the financial hierarchy of the campus?”
“Okay well when you say it like that—”
“I’m in.” You grinned at him. “As long as you were being serious about the Director of Sales thing.”
“I was,” he fished out a business card from his wallet to hand to you.
Qian Kun, Director of Sales, WeiShen, Inc.
And below that was his email, office phone line, and fax number. You gave it back to him.
“Perfect. Those connections will come in handy.”
The door to the three-year-old classroom swung open just then, and you got to your feet.
“Alright, Mr. Qian, ready to go start the cutest coup the world has ever seen?” You offered your hand to him.
He stood up alongside you, giving your hand a firm shake, “Yes, absolutely, Ms. Y/L/N. They’ll never know what hit them.”
While Mrs. Chen and Ms. Xu were definitely caught off-guard by your idea, after getting over their initial shock, they were surprisingly on-board with it. They requested that you two bring in a more formal proposal to the next preschool PTA meeting— next Wednesday. That gave you nine days.
“So how did you know all that, about the donors and distribution structure of the funds?” Kun asked as you walked out into the empty preschool lobby.
“I did my research before picking a preschool for Woobin. It’s all there on the Internet if you dig deep enough, and are somewhat adept at reading through the legal bull—” You cut yourself off, looking down at the two toddlers with you. Kun pushed the front door open for you, and you quietly thanked him as you led Woobin through it before resuming your train of thought, “It’s obviously not in any of the advertising stuff for prospective parents, but for prospective donors, investors; the corporate materials.”
The four of you stopped in front of the building, where the small parking lot was.
“So then why did you enroll him here, even knowing about how they treat the preschool with the donations?”
“The high school is the best in the area, and the easiest way to guarantee admission is to graduate in from their middle school. Easiest way to get into the middle school is to graduate in from the primary school.”
“And the easiest way into the primary school is through the preschool,” the dad surmised.
“Bingo. I’m keeping Binnie’s options open,” you squeezed your son’s hand affectionately. “He doesn’t have to go there, but I’m making sure he can if he wants.”
Kun’s eyebrows shot up, “Wow. That’s some really forward thinking.”
You tilted your head curiously, “So why’d you choose to send Junyi here?”
“It was the closest to my place.”
“Practical, that’s more than fair.”
“Speaking of, Junyi and I should get going, we have to pick up a couple things from the store for dinner tonight and buddy already looks like he’s not going to last the two block walk there.” He looked down at his son, who was very quiet, glassy eyes fixed on his feet.
You nodded in understanding, “Of course, Binnie and I have a wine night planned.”
“I’m sorry, a what?”
“Oh, Binnie gets grape juice and I have red wine in matching cups. He likes to feel included.”
“Does he get a matching kiddie charcuterie board too?” Kun chuckled to himself as he hoisted Junyi up onto his hip.
“No, he just takes what he wants off of mine.”
He gave you a blank stare, “I can’t tell if you’re pulling my leg or not.”
“Look, he insists on trying whatever I have, and he ends up liking a lot of it,” you shrugged. “He’s the only 3-year-old I know who asks for tapenade as a snack.”
“You’re being serious?” He checked again.
“Yes,” you laughed. Then, before you knew it, the next words coming out of your mouth were, “You know, you and Junyi should join Binnie and I for a charcuterie night. I’ll prepare actual kid-friendly stuff, too, for Junyi.”
Kun’s head jerked back just the slightest, and he blinked a couple times before asking, “Uh, just you and Woobin?”
“Yeah, is— Would that, uh, be a problem?” The offer had felt perfectly normal and natural for you to make in the moment, but his reaction was making you second guess and stammer. You rushed to tack on, “We can— It’ll be for the fundraising committee, you know.”
“Right, right, of course.” His voice was filled with shaky relief.
“Of course,” you echoed, offering a strained smile.
“As long as that’s not a problem for—for you.”
“Why would it be a problem for me? I invited you.”
“I don’t— That sounds great, thank you, Y/N.”
Desperately wanting to get out of the plane crash that you had inadvertently taken this conversation into, you readjusted your purse on your shoulder decidedly, “Of course. Uhm, well, we won’t hold you two up from the store anymore, it looks like Junyi’s about to fall asleep on you right now. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Kun looked down at Junyi’s head that had been resting against his chest, the boy’s eyes beginning to flutter shut, “Oh, God, there he goes. Bye, Y/N, Woobin!”
And the man was around the corner before Woobin could even lift his little hand to wave.
“So what’s the big deal, Y/N?”
“Well because I feel stupid now, Sooyoung,” you ranted to your friend over the phone that night as you washed up the dishes from dinner. “It felt like I was maybe finally getting my first like, parent friend, you know? And then he got all weird as soon as I invited him to hang out. I wasn’t being weird, was I? It was practically a playdate invite!”
Woobin had been put to bed a few minutes ago, and you were recounting the horrible nosedive that your conversation with Kun had taken, needing to know that you weren’t crazy.
“Y/N…” Sooyoung’s voice was patient as it came through your speakers. “Now, I can only guess, because I am, as we know, not a parent friend. But… is he married?”
“Huh?” The plate in your hand nearly slipped out of your soapy grip.
“Wedding ring, seen one?”
You wracked your brain, trying to remember if you’d ever really looked at Kun’s hands that closely, “Uh, not that I can remember?”
“Okay. You ever met the mom?”
“No, it’s always Kun who picks Junyi up.”
“Has a mom or another parent or partner ever been mentioned at all?”
“Sooyoung, the point,” you requested sternly, having a sneaking suspicion as to what it was.
“I’m just saying, maybe he got all weird because he thought you were flirting.”
“Oh my God,” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair before realizing that it was still soapy. “God damn it!”
“Y/N?”
You grabbed some paper towels to clean the suds off your head, “Yeah, still here, sorry.”
“Anyway… is he cute?”
“SooSoo, I don’t even think I could flirt on purpose at this point,” you chuckled cynically, going back to your chore. “That muscle’s long shriveled up. I just need to time skip to being married with two kids, I think.”
Your friend laughed along with you, “Fair. But, that doesn’t sound like a no. Kinda sounds like avoiding the question, actually.”
“Sooyoung.”
“Ooh, you gonna send me to my room?” She taunted you, and you could hear her pout through the phone. “Put me in time out?”
“You’d like that, you little freak,” you snickered, picking up your next dish.
That Saturday afternoon you and Woobin had welcomed Kun and Junyi into your apartment with giddy nerves. Woobin was excited, and you were excited for him. This would be pretty much his first playdate with a kid that he wasn’t related to. And you had all the nerves, as this was your first time having a parent friend over, too. Not to mention that Sooyoung’s words were still bouncing around in the back of your head. When Kun held out a bottle of red wine to you with his left hand, you looked extra hard at his fingers— yep, no ring.
“Oh, Kun, you didn’t have to,” you took it from him gladly, ushering the two of them further into your home.
“You’re hosting and making us a charcuterie board. I figured wine was appropriate,” he explained.
“Well, thank you. This is perfect.”
Woobin was right where you’d left him in the living room on his playmat among his toys.
“Binnie,” you said, waiting until he looked up at you before continuing, “Mr. Qian and Junyi are here, so we’re going to eat now, remember?”
He nodded, immediately standing up and beginning to shovel toys off to one side of his mat. You helped him slide the mat to the corner of the room.
“Uh, we’re just going to eat around the coffee table, if that’s alright,” you explained, gesturing to the cleared table in the middle of the living room.
“Yeah, of course,” Kun nodded.
“Great, great. Dining table kind of has a partially built LEGO set on it right now,” you chuckled as you set the wine bottle down. “I’m going to grab everything from the kitchen, be back in a second.”
“Oh, I’ll help.”
“No, that’s okay, I’ve already got a little helper,” you held a hand out expectantly towards your son. Woobin immediately grabbed your hand, looking up at you. You gave Kun a quick smile, “Be back in a sec.”
In the kitchen, you handed Woobin his spill-proof cup, then another for Junyi. You fit two wine glasses by the stems and a corkscrew in one hand, and grabbed the charcuterie board with the other. Gently nudging your toddler ahead of you, the two of you headed back out to the living room, where your guests were waiting.
Kun and Junyi had sat down on one side of the table, and you gently placed the food down in front of them, then one wine glass in front of Kun. You looked to your son, who handed the correct cup to Junyi.
“It’s just water,” you informed the dad. “We have juice too, if he can have it. I never know about allergies and the like so I didn’t want to assume.”
“Juice?” Woobin looked up at you with wide eyes.
“Yours is already grape juice, Binnie,” you informed him with a head pat.
Kun rubbed his son’s back, “Water’s fine for him, he had a juice box this morning. Thanks.”
You and Woobin sat opposite from the father and son, Woobin immediately clambering into your lap. As you went to uncork the wine, Kun looked over the board in front of you all. You had made sure to prepare some kid-friendly options in one corner in addition to your usual refined spread.
“This all looks fantastic, Y/N. Thank you, seriously,” Kun smiled, and you swore that was the first time you’d noticed a deep dimple appear on both of his cheeks.
You poured first for him, then yourself, “Of course. Thank you two for coming over, Woobin and I were both excited to host for someone. Right, Binnie?”
“What, Mommy?” Woobin looked up at you with a scrunched nose.
“‘Host.’” You repeated the unfamiliar word for him, then clarified your question, “Are you excited to have Junyi and Mr. Qian over?”
“Oh! Yes!” He nodded his head so fast you could feel the rest of his little body shake in your lap. “Can I show Junyi my room, Mommy?”
“After you two eat some, okay?”
“Okay!”
“Did you hear that, Junyi? After you eat, you and Woobin can play.” Kun gently prodded his son, then looked up at you apologetically when all the child did was yawn. “Sorry, he just woke up from a nap before coming over.”
“That’s okay,” you giggled, cutting off a piece of cheese and pressing it onto a cracker, then making another serving of the same cheese and cracker. You handed one to Woobin, keeping the other for yourself.
Woobin eagerly took a bite of the cheese and cracker you’d given him, washing it down with his grape juice.
Kun offered a bear-shaped cookie out to Junyi, who shook his head. The dad sighed, and pointed at a banana slice, then blueberry, then cheddar cheese slice that you’d cut into small star shapes. They all got head shakes.
“Are you hungry at all, buddy?”
“Yes!”
“Then what do you want? Ms. Y/L/N made sure to put out all that food just for you. I don’t think you want what Daddy is eating, buddy. It’s grown-up food.”
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, unsure of if you should speak up. It seemed like they both needed help, but you weren’t one to try to interject your own parenting if it wasn’t asked for.
Junyi squirmed in his dad’s arms for a moment before mumbling, “But Woobin’s eating it…”
Meanwhile Woobin had in fact helped himself to a kalamata olive, pre-pitted, happily munching away.
Kun seemed at a loss, rubbing at his brow, and you finally decided to jump in.
“Junyi, you can try some, too,” you told him encouragingly, leaning forward and reaching over the board. “Do you want to try the cheese Woobin was eating or the olive he just had? Or both?”
“Cheese, please.”
You cut off a small piece of the gouda, “Here you go.”
He took it in his small hands, “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
You watched in amusement as Junyi ate the cheese, his features lighting up.
“Did you like it?”
“Yes! Can I try the olive?”
“Hey…” Kun’s voice held a slight warning as he pinched his son’s side.
“Can I try the olive please?”
“Thank you.” The dad patted the boy’s head before reaching around him for the glass of wine on the table.
You handed him an olive, both you and Kun watching with interest as he popped it into his mouth whole. Junyi’s face immediately screwed up in disgust. Without missing a beat, Kun held up a cupped palm with another short sigh, letting his son spit the food back out. Trying to hold back your giggles, you handed the dad a napkin.
“Thanks,” he accepted it, depositing the olive into the paper, and wiping his hand off.
After some more broadening of Junyi’s horizons—to mixed results—the board was mostly clear, and the kids had declared themselves full.
“Can I show Junyi my room now?” Woobin asked excitedly.
“Sure, Binnie. You two can go play,” you nodded, and he immediately scrambled off your lap. You held out a hand for him to use to balance himself as you kept talking, “Mr. Qian and I have some work to do, so we’ll be in here if you need us, okay?”
“Okay!” Both toddlers said in unison.
“Hey, look here,” Kun stopped his son before he could leave the room. The father waited until the boy was looking him in the eye before continuing, “Remember what we talked about before coming over? All week?”
Junyi nodded fervently.
“Good. Go have fun, buddy,” he ruffled his son's hair.
You watched the two of them speedwalk out excitedly, Woobin explaining the house rule of not being allowed to run because it’s not safe as they went.
Then it was just you and Kun. Sooyoung’s words echoed in the back of your mind.
“Alright, let me grab my laptop, then we can get to work,” you declared, getting to your feet.
A few hours later and the two of you had made good progress, only interrupted by the kids a few times here and there, mostly them wanting to show off toys or coloring pages, or Junyi had wandered in at one point seemingly just to make sure Kun was still there.
You had been adding something to your word document of notes when you realized that your house had been eerily quiet for too long. Fingertips hovering over the keys, you exchanged a suspicious look with Kun.
“Too quiet?” He asked knowingly.
“Yeah…” You frowned, setting your computer aside to get up.
Both of you treaded through your home until you got to Woobin’s bedroom. The door was open, and you were alarmed for a moment when you didn’t see either boy anywhere on the floor playing. Until you recognized two lumps under the covers of his toddler bed, Woobin and Junyi looking like they were going to sleep for the next hundred years or so.
“Oh, god, I am so sorry,” Kun shook his head, seeming about to go in there and grab his son.
You were between him and the room, however, and quickly turned the lights off and shut the door. “It’s okay, Kun. They just tuckered themselves out. That’s good.”
Latching onto his elbow, you pulled him back towards the living room, catching a glance at the time on the microwave as you went through the kitchen.
“Damn, it’s not even Binnie’s normal bedtime yet,” you chuckled.
You didn’t let go of Kun until you had pulled him back down onto the couch, and then held his (second) glass of wine back out to him pointedly. He had a fond smile as he took it from you, and you happily accepted your victory as you picked yours back up too. You left your laptop on the coffee table, shifting to entirely face Kun as you raised your glass to your lips.
Kun took a sip.
You took a sip.
“Do you want to ask me something, Y/N?” Kun scratched the back of his neck.
“Mm, sorry,” you apologized with a chuckle. “I zoned out on your face there, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, a bit,” he laughed.
“I was thinking, though.”
“What about?”
“You’re a Director of Sales…”
“Supposedly.”
“Supposedly,” you repeatedly humorously before moving on with your question. “Do you think we’ve got a good chance at getting a donor for the preschool? If our proposal is approved by the PTA on Wednesday, of course.”
You had expected some kind of business musings, or serious answer from Kun, but instead you watched with concern as his brow furrowed, his fingers drummed along his knee, and he suddenly became fidgety, shifting around in his seat. He stayed quiet, once again scratching at the back of his neck, squinting one eye closed, then the other.
“Kun?” You said his name hesitantly.
“Sorry,” he shot you a familiar, frazzled smile that reminded you of when he was getting overwhelmed at the Bake Sale booth by himself. “I uhm, I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” you reassured him. “I was just curious, it’s not life or death that you know everything all the time.”
He didn’t even seem to hear you as he stood up, setting his wine glass down on the table. The dad began pacing back and forth in front of your couch, his hands laced together behind his neck.
“I’m good at my job.”
You would’ve sworn he wasn’t talking to you, except his wide, stressed eyes snapped up to you after he said that.
“I’m not your boss. You don’t need to convince me, Kun,” you said slowly.
“I know, just— with all this, it’s stuff that I should be good at, it’s right up my alley. But it’s for Junyi, and I want to be the best dad I can be for him that I just end up jumping into doing things without actually thinking about them first because other people are telling me that’s what I need to do to be a good dad. I know how to be a good Director of Sales. I don’t know how to be a good dad.”
“You don’t need to know everything,” you reiterated strongly, hoping he actually listened this time. “I don’t know all the secrets for being a good mom. I just know how to be Woobin’s mom. You don’t need to know all the secrets to being the best dad ever. The only thing you need to worry about is being Junyi’s dad. Does that seem a bit more manageable?”
Kun’s pacing slowed to a stop in front of you, “Well, I guess.”
“So, the next time somebody is trying to sell you on some ‘Dad Thing,’ stop, breathe, and think: Is this what I, Qian Kun, as Junyi’s dad, need to do, to be?”
“Okay…” he looked at you skeptically, closing his eyes for a moment. You watched as his shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.
“…Are you doing it right now?”
“Well how else am I supposed to decide if this is a good thing to do or not?”
You let out a hearty laugh, “No, that’s perfect, Kun, go ahead.”
He closed his eyes again, and you watched with fond amusement as his eyebrows quirked up and down with his thoughts. You took another sip of your wine before he had finished, and he opened his eyes once more, giving you a firm nod, “Okay, yes, I think that’s a thing that Junyi would need me to do.”
“Great,” you smiled at him, tilting your wine glass out to him.
He picked his back up and clinked it to yours in a little cheers. You tipped the remainder of your drink back in one go.
“Oh, that was good,” you declared. “Thanks, Kun.”
“Of course, Y/N. Thank you for inviting us.”
“Like I said, Binnie and I were both really excited to host,” you took your empty glass into the kitchen to start cleaning up. “I don’t know if this is bad, but he hasn’t really had a lot of play dates that weren’t like his cousins or something.”
“Junyi neither,” Kun admitted.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” You asked, starting to stack the plates. “Kid, and work, and family, and friends, and everything else. And then you’re supposed to be in charge of your kid’s social life too?”
You’d turned your back on him to bring the plates into the kitchen, expecting to hear his response to your question, but you were just met with silence. After depositing the dishes in the kitchen, you walked back out to the living room, alarmed to see that Kun had taken to pacing again.
Keeping a calm demeanor yourself, you kept going about your task, grabbing the charcuterie board, the last thing that needed to be tidied up. You had just started back towards the kitchen when Kun broke his silence.
“Junyi’s mother left us.”
You were so glad you had your back to Kun so he couldn’t see your rueful wince. Oh, you were so going to regret this.
Relaxing your features into a more sympathetic frown, you turned around to face him, “I’m very sorry to hear that, Kun.”
This was going to be a lot, you could sense it, so you set the charcuterie board back down on your breakfast bar.
“So just know that however hard it is for you and Woobin’s dad, it’s like ten times harder for me, and that’s why I’m always—”
You had stopped listening to him, however, your brain turning to white noise after the phrase ‘Woobin’s dad.’
“Wait, do you think I’m married?” You blurted out over him.
“Well, no, I can see that you don’t have a ring,” Kun gestured down to your hands. “But a boyfriend or another significant other. I’m doing this solo and—”
“I’m a single parent too!”
“What?” He seemed dumbfounded.
You couldn’t tell if you wanted to laugh or cry more at how ridiculous this was.
“Woobin’s dad was a one-night stand! I can’t remember the guy’s name, or what he looks like. Couldn’t find him if I wanted to. I don’t have a partner now, either. What on Earth made you think I was anything other than a single mom? You’re in my home!” You gestured around wildly to where there were multiple pictures of your family, of you and Woobin, but none of you, Woobin, and any man that could reasonably be considered his father.
“Well you’re just— you’ve got— at the meeting— you’re so put together,” Kun stammered out, his voice getting smaller and smaller. He ran a hand through his hair, “You’re not falling apart at the seams like I am.”
“Kun.” You grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping his frenzied pacing. “Look me in the eye.”
It wasn’t really like he had a choice, you were now holding his face just a couple inches from yours, but he still followed your command.
“Good,” you praised him, keeping your voice soothing. “I want you to take three deep breaths with me.”
He followed along as you inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, and finally exhaled again together.
“Alright, thank you,” your voice was still sweet and calm as you ran your hands back down to his shoulders. “Now… why the fuck do you think I am more put together than you, Qian Kun?”
“Everything,” he breathed out, hanging his head.
“God, Kun,” you sighed, seizing him by the wrist. “Come on.”
You led him into your dining room, where there was in fact a half-built LEGO set on your dining room table. But that wasn’t your goal. On the bookshelf in there, you grabbed a specific picture frame, and took it and Kun back to the living room.
Sitting down side-by-side with Kun on the couch, you held the picture out in front of the two of you. It was of you and Woobin just over three years ago now, the first night you came home from the hospital. Your mother had taken it. He was swaddled in his baby blue blanket, all chubby cheeks, and you looked dead tired, but an excited sparkle was still in your eyes as you grinned down at your son.
“Look, Kun. I used to feel like that too. All the time. Almost every day when I was pregnant,” you relayed to him.
“But not anymore?” He questioned hesitantly.
“Sometimes. But not like before. Because I realized that I’m not doing this by myself.”
“What do you mean?”
“I may be a single mom, but I’m not alone, I have Binnie. And isn’t that the whole point? To be there for them? To make sure they know they’re not doing it alone either?”
Kun was quiet, his eyes still focused on the picture.
You continued, “I’m lucky enough to have my parents as a good support system, and some friends I can call up in case of emergency too. But I remember when I found out I was going to have Woobin, and I decided to keep him, I was scared of doing it by myself. Terrified, might be a better word.”
“When I came home from the hospital with him, my mom stayed with us for the first couple weeks.” You tapped the frame. “And the first night after she left, when it really was just the two of us, I was expecting this overwhelming sense of loneliness, and instead I just felt… full. I know I had all those birthing hormones in me, oxytocin and whatnot, but I looked down at him and I realized I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t ever going to be in all this because I have Binnie.”
“I’ve never thought about it like that,” Kun finally spoke again.
Thinking about your cousin’s approach to parenting, you guessed, “You’ve always thought about him as the adversary?”
“Not exactly. Junyi’s more like a tiny roommate that I have to dress and feed and keep from accidentally dying.”
“I’d love to see pizza and beer night at your place.” You joked, laughing when you managed to get a small smile out of Kun again. “Does Junyi get his in a sippy?”
“You jest, but I have poured myself two fingers of whiskey into a Winnie the Pooh sippy cup before because it was the only clean drinking vessel we had.” He rubbed at his temples, then clarified, “With the lid off.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” You patted his back, reaching across him to set the frame down on the side table by another one that was displayed there.
“Thanks, Y/N.” Kun’s eyes followed you as you sat back down, suddenly much closer than you remembered being before. Or were you just more aware of your proximity?
He patted your knee. “Seriously, that made me feel a lot better.”
“Of—” You cleared your throat to get rid of the squeak that was now in your voice. “Of course.”
Your skin tingled. Holy shit, you’d only had two glasses of wine spread across several hours, there was no way you should even be remotely buzzed. Kun was still looking at you. Were his eyes always this dark, this inviting?
God, he really was handsome. You’d always known that, thought that, since the moment you saw him in the lobby of the preschool. But something about now, having him in your home, so close, alone, you felt like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He wet his lips seemingly instinctually, and for a moment your brain short-circuited.
“Daddy?” A small voice made both you and Kun jump in your seats. You bit your tongue in surprise, hissing in pain as you and the dad simultaneously scooted away from each other. Junyi was standing at the threshold of the living room, rubbing one of his eyes sleepily.
“Hey, buddy.” Kun waved his son over with a smile. “Is everything okay?”
Junyi walked over, stopping in front of his dad, a small pout on his face. “I woke up and didn’t see you...”
“Oh, buddy,” Kun rubbed the toddler’s back. “Sounds like it’s about time for us to go home, huh?”
You smiled at the both of them, hoping they couldn’t see how frazzled you felt through it. “Of course, it’s late. I think we’re uh, we’re all tired. Junyi, is Woobin awake?”
The boy shook his head no.
“Okay, thank you.” You stood up, grabbing the wine glasses as Kun picked his son up.
You sent them off with a quick goodbye at your front door, and let out a deep sigh of relief once you’d closed it behind them. There weren’t many dishes to take care of in the kitchen, but you still took your time scrubbing at them, then tiptoed down the hall to check in on your son. He was in fact sound asleep, and you quietly went to retire in your own room for the night.
Except once you were in your own bed, sleep didn’t find you easy. You still saw Kun whether your eyes were open or closed, and you could feel the ghost of his warm hand on your skin. You rolled over into the center of the empty expanse of your bed, burying your face in your pillow, and let out a groan. You so needed to get laid. That’s all this was, you had set aside your own needs for your family’s and as soon as you saw one attractive guy, you couldn’t function. There were more important things to focus on with Kun, like the fundraising.
And so you went to sleep with thoughts of spreadsheets, Kun’s dark eyes, numbers, Kun’s warm hands on you, fundraising pitches, and Qian Kun running through your mind.
The fundraising pitch was a hit. Yours and Kun’s PTA committee was approved at the very same meeting, and you two were made co-directors effective immediately.
Afterwards, you, Kun, Woobin, and Junyi all walked out together, and while Kun seemed to be basking in the exhilaration of success, you were shell-shocked with a harrowing realization.
“Y/N?” Kun gently touched your arm, voice tinged with concern.
You looked up at him, horrified. “I’m a PTA mom now, aren’t I?”
He seemed to be holding back his laughter as he patted your shoulder. “I think you are. My condolences. Please don’t kill me.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can dispose of my co-director so easily now.”
He was grinning at you. “Ah, didn’t realize that title came with such high protections.”
You rolled your eyes, but found your mood lifting anyway. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, you mentioned that you had something exciting, but only if we got approval?”
“Right!” Kun let go of Junyi’s hand to reach into the interior pocket of his suit jacket. He retrieved a crisp cream envelope, about the size of his hand. His name was embossed on the front of it in gold lettering.
You looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “You got a wedding invite?”
“Close.” He opened the envelope, holding out the contents to you. You set Woobin down, murmuring a quiet request for him to stay by you all so you could take the card in both your hands. The front of the card had an unfamiliar crest on it, and you opened it to read the inside.
‘The United Publishing Society is honored to invite Mr. Qian Kun and a guest to their 89th Annual Benefactor Gala’
And below that was the date, time, location, and dress code. Black tie formal.
“A fancy networking event?” You questioned, handing it back to him.
“No,” he shook his head very seriously. “These are all the old industry bigwigs who want to get together without all that schmoozy networking and ladder-climbing stuff going on. You and I are probably going to be the youngest ones there by a couple decades.”
“Wait you and me?”
“Yep. ‘Mr. Qian Kun and a guest.’” He recited off the invite. “You’re my guest.”
“Uhm...”
“I happen to know that one of the guys attending is also on the board of a non-profit that donates exclusively to children’s causes. Building pediatric cancer centers, juvenile intervention centers, the whole nine. I think he’ll be our best bet for a donor.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “But you just said they want to get together without networking and all that kind of stuff. Why would we be any different?”
“It’s a charity gala, they’re already there to write checks anyway. We’re not going to be asking him for a job.”
It’s not you were exactly overflowing with any options. “When was that again?”
“What do we think?” You did a spin for your small audience of Woobin and Sooyoung. “Good enough for black tie formal?”
Tonight was the night of the gala Kun was taking you along to, and you sort of felt like you were going to throw up. And pass out. In that order. First of all, you had never been to a gala, you couldn’t remember if you had ever gone to something with a black tie formal dress code (you literally had to go out and buy this outfit), not to mention that you felt awful for having to ask your friend to babysit. But unfortunately your parents were out of town and all of your normal babysitters were busy. Sooyoung had already let you (jokingly) know that this was under duress, and that you owed her—despite turning down the money you offered her.
Sooyoung wolf-whistled at you, and you gave her a pointed look. Not the example you wanted to set for your son. Woobin looked up from his toys at the sound, and clapped for you.
“You look great, Y/N!” Your friend reassured you, and you were thankful that she reigned her mouth in around your kid. Typically, you would’ve gotten a much more explicit compliment from her. “Should be good for black tie. I mean, it’s not like you have any other option, right?”
“Right...” You groaned, turning back towards your room. “Hold on, let me put the shoes on so you can see those.”
You were sitting on your bed pulling your shoes on when you heard your doorbell ring. Your stomach dropped as you looked over at the time on your bedside clock. Shit, Kun was early. You should’ve anticipated that from the last time he was here.
“Soo! Can you get the door? I’m still putting my shoes on!” You yelled out through the apartment.
“Yep!” She called back.
You could vaguely hear the muffled voices of Sooyoung and Kun—and even Woobin at one point—but you were too focused on tugging your goddamn shoes on to care much about what they were saying. Just as you were finally standing up and straightening out your outfit, Sooyoung speedwalked into your bedroom, Woobin in her arms.
She had a smile filled with devilish delight on her face as she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to you, “That is Kun?”
“Huh? Yeah? Unless you let some strange man into my home that I don’t know,” you replied, bewildered. “Should I have asked you to ID him?”
“I take back everything I said, you stay out as long as you want tonight. All night even,” she suggested, gesturing wildly with one hand as the other kept your toddler propped up on her hip. She pinched his cheek fondly. “BinBin and I can have a sleepover, right, buddy?”
Your son’s face lit up with delight at the prospect. “Sleepover?!”
Well aware of what your friend was implying, you did your best to regulate your outer emotions and intonation as you addressed your kid. You kept your tone kind but firm, “No, Binnie, I’m sorry.” Focusing your gaze on your friend, you added pointedly, “Nobody’s having a sleepover tonight.”
“Y/N, come on. You’ve never denied yourself the finer things in life since becoming a mom. Why are you insisting on starting now?” Sooyoung sighed.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have a gala to attend. For the fundraising committee I’m on.”
Walking through your apartment, you grabbed your purse from your dining room and finally found Kun in the foyer just a few steps from the front door. He was looking at a photo you had up on the wall, his back to you, so all you could see was his brown hair and dark suit.
“Hi, Kun!” You hoped you didn’t sound out of breath as you entered the room. Judging by the sound of footsteps behind you, Sooyoung had followed you in to see you off for the night.
Kun turned around at his name, hands clasped behind his back. He was dressed rather handsomely for the night in a tux with his hair neatly parted away from his face. But it was the starstruck smile on his face that made your skin warm up as he stopped in his tracks, just looking at you.
“Kun? You good?” You coughed awkwardly, well aware of your spectators.
“Sorry, sorry. Hello, Y/N.” He blinked and shook his head, stepping forward all the way to stand in front of you.
“You’ve already met my friend Sooyoung. She’s watching Woobin tonight for me.” You gestured to the two of them.
“So you two can take as long as you need!” She piped up oh-so-helpfully.
You turned to look at her with wide, pointed eyes.
“You know, chatting people up for your fundraising, or whatever,” she tacked on innocently.
“Thank you, SooSoo. I’ll see you later.” You pecked your son on the forehead. “Goodnight, Binnie. Remember, Mommy will be back late so Aunt SooSoo is going to put you to bed, and you and me are going to eat breakfast together, okay?”
“But Aunt SooSoo said I was having a sleepover with her?”
“Aunt SooSoo was just joking, baby. I’m sorry, no sleepovers tonight,” you informed him with a heavy heart. Sooyoung set him down, and he toddled off towards the living room. Your friend went to follow him, and you grabbed her elbow to lean in to hiss in her ear, “I hope you’re happy, you owe Binnie a sleepover now.”
“And he’ll get one,” she whispered back. “As soon as you have one of your own.”
You shot her one final glare that she just retaliated with a wink, before letting her go and striding back over to Kun, who was waiting patiently by the front door.
“Everything okay?” He asked, concern on his features.
“Yeah, just making sure she knows Binnie's bedtime and to not give him any more juice.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “All good.”
“Good. You ready, then?”
“As I’ll ever be, I guess.”
You so were not ready, it turned out. Just a few minutes after arriving, milling around and taking in the grandeur of the ballroom with Kun, you were starting to feel dizzy. Kun had already seen a couple of people that he must have known, flashing them a charismatic smile and exchanging passing greetings. You, meanwhile, felt like a weight was pressing on your chest, and inhaled deeply through your nose to try to calm down.
“Woah, are you okay, Y/N?” Kun leaned in to ask you quietly.
“Yeah, fine,” you lied through your teeth. “Why?”
“You’ve got a death grip on my arm that you didn’t have thirty seconds ago.” He patted your hand that was on his upper arm.
Looking down, you saw that his suit jacket was crumpled in your fingers, and you consciously tried to loosen your grip, but couldn’t make yourself do it. Instead, you just stared at your locked hand.
“I’m a copy editor, Kun, I don’t really go to galas on the daily, so pardon me for being a little out of my element here,” you retorted, the words cutting through the air much harsher than you had intended. Taking another deep inhale and exhale, you added a whispered, “Sorry, sorry.”
“Come on, let’s get some air, hm?”
The gala had an outdoor area devoid of other guests, presumably due to the chilly nighttime air. Kun sat you down on a stone bench outside of the main courtyard area, out of sight from the large windows of the ballroom.
The pressure on your chest was gone, and with you breathing easier, the cynical, nervous thoughts could finally take center stage in your brain.
“God, this isn’t going to work! Why did we even come out here?” You cracked your knuckles anxiously. “How do we even ask for money without just sounding like children? ‘It’s not fair!’”
“If we find the right donor—and don’t use that tone of voice—that argument is actually going to be what resonates with them,” Kun responded calmly, standing in front of you with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “Someone that cares about the kids, not about investing in an institution or whatever, will be moved by the fact that the preschool is being neglected financially.”
You chewed on the bottom of your lip. “Well damn, when you put it like that, I may just believe that you’re a Director of Sales, Qian Kun.”
“I thought the business card had convinced you.”
“Anybody can order a business card that says whatever they want.”
“That would’ve been extensive planning on my part.”
“Hey, you could’ve had it on hand to pick up women. There’s guys that do that.”
He seemed genuinely put-off and bewildered. “Wait really? That’s… That is just… loser behavior.”
“Though the fax number did point to it being real,” you continued, finally cracking a smile. “Dudes doing pick-up probably think it makes them look dorky.”
“What? People aren’t sexting via fax these days?” Kun joked, a grin tugging at his lips.
You were laughing too hard—and thus trying to quiet down your laughter—to respond to him, giving him the perfect leeway to continue. “What would you even call that? Saxing? Sexing?”
You were dizzy again, but this time it was light-headedness from laughing too hard, quite literally slapping your knee as you tried to calm yourself down.
Kun was chuckling as well, sliding in to sit next to you. “I take offense at the sentiment that fax machines are lame, by the way. I’ll have you know that’s my personal fax line on my business card. Not everyone gets their own.”
Finally having enough wits about you to form sentences again, you sat up straight to look him in the eye as you clarified, “Hey, I was saying that loser dudes who make fake business cards think that fax machines are lame. I think men with fax machines are sexy, especially personal fax lines.”
You went to nudge his shoulder teasingly, caught off-guard as you realized just how close he was to you. Even closer than the night on your couch, his dark eyes settling on your face, unabashedly drinking you in. Your breath hitched in your throat as you were suddenly surrounded by the intoxicating smell of his cologne. The cold air made the hair on your bare arms stand up—or maybe it was something else—and you found yourself pressing forward even closer towards Kun’s warmth.
“Y/N,” he murmured your name quietly. “Are you cold? We can go back inside.”
“No, just…” you took a deep breath, scooting in even closer to him, until you were pressed up side-to-side. “Stay right here? You’re warm.”
He uncertainly wrapped his arm around you. “Sure, sure. Of course.”
“And… Can I ask you something?”
“Anything, yeah.”
“I wasn’t crazy, right? On the couch the other night… Did you want to kiss me, too?”
“You-You wanted to kiss me?”
“I’m uh, a bit rusty at this kind of thing,” you admitted, your skin burning. “But I’m not completely imagining that there’s… something here, right, Kun?”
“You wanted to kiss me?” He repeated like a broken record.
You lightly snapped your fingers in front of his face. “Kun? My question? Or have I officially lost it, and this is like… going to make everything awkward for the fundraising committee?”
“No, no, I-I do—did want to kiss you. I thought I was making you uncomfortable,” he stumbled over his words sheepishly. “I’m uhm… also pretty rusty with this stuff.”
“You do want to kiss me? Or you did want to kiss me, past tense?” You clarified.
“Both! Uhm, I did, that night on the couch, and I still do, now…” He confessed weakly.
“Is there any reason that you shouldn’t? Like, is there somebody…?”
“No, there isn’t. Not at all.” Kun gulped. “What about you?”
“Nope, nobody, and Qian Kun, if you continue to talk about kissing me without actually doing anything, I might actually lose my mind,” you whispered, feeling hot, embarrassed, desperate tears pricking at the edges of your eyes.
“God, sorry.” He cupped your cheek, turning your head and tilting your chin to be able to perfectly slot his lips with yours. The arm that was already wrapped around you just pulled you closer to him, as one of your hands grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket. You let out an embarrassing whimper as soon as his mouth meshed with yours, and he murmured another hushed ‘sorry’ against your lips. If he hadn’t just told you that he was rusty, you wouldn’t have had any idea as your head spun, your heart beat out of your chest wildly like a cartoon, and you were definitely crying tears of relief into what you were seriously considering quite possibly your best kiss ever.
It was your turn to mutter an apology as your tears turned the kiss salty, but as you pulled back to do just that, you saw the glistening of Kun’s eyes in the champagne tinted light filtering out from the ballroom, turning his tears golden as they slipped down his cheeks. Instead, you just pressed your forehead to his in silent understanding, looping your arm around his neck to hold him even closer, if that was possible.
PART II: you got my heartbeat to play to your time
Spotting Kun in the lobby of the preschool, you immediately lit up and rushed to sit down beside him on one of the benches. He offered you a tired smile and peck on the cheek in greeting, scooting to make room for you.
“Brr, it’s fucking freezing out there,” you shuddered, grabbing his hand to press it against the cold tip of your nose. “That’s just from the 30-second walk from the parking lot to here! Are you two going to survive the walk home? You sure you don’t want me to drive you? Well, I don’t have another carseat for Junyi, but he could sit on your lap in the backseat, I think? Better than freezing to death, right?”
“We’ll be okay, Y/N,” Kun reassured you, patting your leg before resting his hand there. “Thank you though, love.”
The subject of the cold suddenly made you remember something else, and you perked up, “Oh, Woobin and I were at the store yesterday and he needed new gloves, and I saw that bun’s were getting a little worn out when we went out last weekend too—”
“Whose?” Kun asked, furrowing his brows.
“Junyi’s. Look.” You held up the pair that matched Woobin’s, save for the pattern, which had little bunnies on them instead of whales. “Aren’t they adorable? God, I just love their tiny hands. I’ll return them if this is weird and I overstepped a line though. I tried to call you to see if this was okay, but the store was just a dead zone, and I couldn’t get a signal.”
A sheepish smile punctuated the end of your nervous rambling. You and Kun hadn’t been dating for very long, just a few months, and you were still getting a feel for boundaries when it came to your relationship with each other and each other’s kids. You’d just started spending the night at each other’s houses with both kids there—already a big step, in your opinion. Taking the initiative on buying Junyi a new pair of gloves had seemed perfectly natural when the thought came to you, but you didn’t want it to feel like you were rushing things to Kun, or taking a place that wasn’t yours to take—and hadn’t been offered to you—in Junyi’s life.
“Oh, no, Y/N, these are perfect, thank you.” He accepted them, a genuine, grateful smile on his face as he tucked them away in his jacket pocket, then squeezed both of your hands. “Junyi will love them. He did need new gloves; I just hadn’t made it out to the store yet.”
“Then what is making you make that face?”
“Since when has Junyi been a bunny?”
“Were you not intentionally buying him a bunch of bunny-patterned stuff?” You questioned, tilting your head.
“Huh?”
“His backpack, his stuffie that he brings to school, his pajamas that he wore at my place last weekend, and I’ve seen him in like at least three different bunny t-shirts. I thought the theming was intentional.”
Kun took a long, slow blink. “Oh… it was not.”
“Kun… are bunnies your favorite animal?” You teased.
“No! I think…?”
“God, long day at work?” You surmised, stroking the back of his head soothingly.
He leaned into your touch, letting out a disgruntled groan, “Long week. Scratch that, long month.”
“Mm, anything I can do to help?”
“Unless you can clone me, or stop time…”
“Okay, new question: Anything I can do to make you more comfortable? Even just something small?”
“Can you and Woobin come over tonight? I know we weren’t planning on it, but—”
“Yes, Kun, we can come over tonight,” you agreed, using your free hand to grab one of his.
“Thank you,” he sighed, squeezing your hand back.
The door to the boys’ classroom opened then, and you nudged Kun’s shoulder with yours. He nodded, the two of you standing up together. As soon as you stepped foot into the classroom, your shins were knocked into by one small body, then another.
“Oh, hey bun! Hey bubbles!” You greeted the kids, wobbling a bit as they had each latched onto one of your legs.
Kun, who had caught you by the elbow to steady you, was looking at the three of you with that same tired but heartfelt smile, “Guys, am I just chopped liver?”
Junyi squinted up at his dad curiously, “What’s liver?”
“Yeah, what’s liver, Mr. Kun?” Woobin echoed.
“He means he wants a hug too, boys,” you explained. “And he’s been working really hard, so I think he should get a really big one.”
They immediately detached themselves from you to throw their little arms around Kun’s legs instead.
“You should ask for one next time, Mr. Kun!”
“Yeah, Daddy! Instead of talkin’ about liver and stuff.”
“Yeah, Mr. Kun, just ask for one next time,” you repeated teasingly.
Kun looked at the two kids with that same fond, resigned smile. “Right, my bad, boys. I will just ask for one when I need one next time.”
As the kids hug-attacked Kun, you went over to their forgotten cubbies to pick up their respective whale and bunny backpacks, giving Ms. Xu and Mrs. Chen friendly waves of acknowledgement. When you returned, Kun had managed to get a kid under each arm, both toddlers giggling as they were held like sacks of potatoes.
“Are you carrying them out like that?” You asked with a tilted head.
“Maybe,” Kun joked. “It’s a good arm workout.”
“Yeah, for all three of you,” you referred to how the boys were clinging onto his forearms against gravity as well.
“Mm, the idea of buff three-year-olds terrifies me,” he declared, lowering the kids. “Alright, time to let go, guys.”
You reached into Junyi’s backpack to secure the little tiny puffer jacket that was inside, “It’s a bit chilly out, bun-bun, and you and your dad are walking home, so come on, you’re putting your coat on.”
“Okay,” he stuck his arms out for you to help put it on him.
“Oh,” Kun pulled the new pair of gloves out of his own pocket, showing them off to his son. “Look, buddy. Ms. Y/N got you a new pair of gloves.”
“Oh wow, thank you!” He beamed up at you.
“You’re welcome,” you grinned back, kneeling down in front of him to zip up the jacket for him. “Woobin has a pair just like it but with whales, so you two can match next time he wears his.”
Woobin looked down at his bare hands with a thoughtful frown. “Where are my gloves, Mommy?”
“They’re probably in your backpack, baby. You and I are driving home so you don’t have to put them on if you don’t want to, because your hands won’t be getting cold outside like Junyi’s.”
“Oh. I want to put them on, please.”
“Here, I’ll get them,” Kun unzipped the backpack that was on your shoulder and began rooting through it.
“Thank you.” You murmured. As he got the gloves and helped Woobin put them on, you went over the plans for the rest of the night with your son, “We’re going to go home and get a few things, and then we’re going to Mr. Kun and Junyi’s house for a sleepover, okay?”
“Okay!”
Kun had finished tugging on the gloves then, “There you go, Bin.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kun!” Woobin chirped, then reached out for the other toddler. “Junyi, we match!”
“We match!” Junyi giggled back, grabbing Woobin's whale-patterned hand with his own bunny-patterned one.
You stood up, covering your mouth in delight as you whispered to Kun, “I’m literally going to cry.”
“Way ahead of you,” he whispered back, and when you looked over, you did in fact see a single tear rolling down one of his cheeks.
“Oh, oh my God, Kun.” You wiped it away with your thumb. “What’s—”
“Talk later?”
“Okay, yeah,” you nodded, looking around at the fact that you were still very much in the boys’ classroom, and had other things to do. “Right, of course. Talk later.”
Kun reached up to grab your hand that had wiped the tear away, squeezing it and offering you a smile. He dried his eyes with the sleeve of his other hand, then called for the kids, “Come on, boys. We’ve got to go. You’ll see each other in just a bit.”
Getting Woobin packed up to spend the night at Kun and Junyi’s was easy, and so was getting the two of them fed once you were there. The difficult part was getting even a single second of semi-private time with Kun to actually talk. The two boys wanted to include both of you in every single thing they did tonight, which was typically endearing, but the exhaustion that plagued Kun’s features the while time still concerned you. It wasn’t until they were finally asleep in Junyi’s room, and you and Kun had cleaned up from dinner, that you finally had an opportunity.
He pulled you over to the couch, and you sat down, expecting one of your normal grown-up, mature, face-to-face talks to happen now. You’d had a few already, about your expectations when you started dating, about the first time you spent the night at the other’s house like this, whenever there was any need to clear the air. Both you and Kun agreed that you were both at the point in your life where you couldn’t deal with the kind of tip-toeing uncertainty of young relationships, you needed something serious, with open, honest communication, especially around the kids.
But instead, Kun practically collapsed on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your middle. You cradled his head close to you, running a hand through his hair and stroking a thumb over his cheekbone.
“What’s wrong, Kun?” You murmured. “You seem… drained.”
“I am,” he admitted plainly, defeat in his tone. “Just absolutely… fucking dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, love,” you replied quietly.
“But you were such a big help today, thank you.”
“I don’t know how bringing another toddler into your home helped with that, but okay,” you said skeptically, still playing with his hair.
“Having a second set of hands to help with dinnertime, and play time, and bathtime, and bedtime…” His chest heaved with another big sigh. “And just having you around… makes everything easier.”
He reached up to grab one of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours. The grip he had made you think he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. “I don’t want you to leave, Y/N.”
“Kun, I’ll stay for as long as you need me to,” you promised. “A couple nights, a week, whatever you need. Life is hard, especially trying to do everything on your own. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so how about you take the boys out and I’ll tidy up around here, okay?”
“Forever?”
“What?”
“Will you stay forever?”
You stared down at your interlocked hands, the one in his hair stilling. “Are you asking…”
“You said you’d stay however long I need you to. I always need you with me, Y/N. Will you two move in with us?” Kun asked, placing a couple of long kisses to your hand. “Or we can get a new place. I just… can’t imagine having to do this without you. Both of you. All four of us.”
You hummed, your hand resuming its ministrations in his locks. “We’ll probably need a new place… but yes, Kun. We’ll move in with you.”
He quickly kissed his way up your arm to your neck and face, until he was hovering above you, a breathless smile on his features. “Really?”
“I’ll need to talk to Binnie…” You warned. “And like I just said, we’ll probably need to look for a new place, since the boys are used to having their own rooms and we can afford it combined. It won’t be instantaneous, but yes… we can start planning it.”
Then Kun was showering your face in kisses, and you giggled, cupping his face fondly.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“I love you too, Kun,” you pulled him into a soft peck, before his raining kisses started going even lower, below your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. When his hand slipped under your shirt, you looked at him suspiciously. “Hey… I thought you were absolutely fucking dead?”
“Mysterious second wind,” his words were muffled against your skin, but you could feel the sly smirk on his lips.
“Alright, well do you think this second wind can at least be moved into your bedroom?”
“Y/N, five weeks?!” Kun exclaimed, making you immediately slap a hand over his mouth and look over your shoulder at the two freshly-washed four-year-old boys sitting down to enjoy their post-bathtime show.
“Keep your voice down!” You chastised him in a harsh whisper. The living room was open to the kitchen in your new place, where you and Kun were huddled having your fervent back and forth at the moment. You’d just so very casually dropped the fact that your period had been five weeks late, at perhaps not the most opportune time, washing the dishes, but really you hadn’t meant for it to be a huge deal.
After you took your hand off his mouth, he replied back much more quietly, “Sorry, I’m not upset with you, love, I’m surprised. Why haven’t you taken a test?”
“With work and both the boys’ birthdays, then them starting VPK, I just haven’t had time to go get one.”
“Let’s go get one now then.”
“What, a family trip to the corner store to buy a pregnancy test?” You snorted at the idea, holding a dry plate out to Kun to put away.
He didn’t take the plate, staring at you as he repeated, “Family?”
“You know what I meant…” You whined, putting the dish down on the counter and covering your face in embarrassment. That was the first time either of you had referred to the four of you as one family unit.
He wrapped his arms around you, letting you bury your face in his chest. “I don’t think you even know what you meant, lovey.”
“Ugh, you’re right.” Your brain was way too scrambled at the moment, preoccupied with trying extremely hard to not think about what being late could possibly mean, what a test could possibly say.
“I’m serious, come on. We’ll buy the boys some ice cream, they’ll be none the wiser.”
“Fine, I need to put some real pants on,” you pushed off his chest, gesturing to the dingy sleep shorts were you in. “Can you—”
“Get the boys’ shoes on. On it.” He nodded firmly.
“Thank you, my love.”
“Kun, I can’t pee with you grinning at me like that. It’s weird.”
With Woobin and Junyi preoccupied with their character popsicles and a movie in the living room, you and Kun were in the small hallway bathroom closest to the living room. It also happened to be the boys’ shared bathroom, the walls covered in vinyl, removable stickers of cartoon characters smiling down at you as unnervingly as Kun was currently. It was far too many eyes for what you were doing, peeing on a drugstore pregnancy test.
“Sorry, sorry,” your boyfriend apologized, diverting his eyes and covering his mouth, though he was clearly still beaming into his hand.
Finally done with that part of the test, you set it atop the box that was sitting on the bathroom counter, washing your hands and dropping back down onto the toilet seat.
“And now we wait,” you declared with a heavy chest.
“Okay.” Kun nodded resolutely, allowing his eyes to return to you now that you’d spoken again, still absolutely glittering in the harsh fluorescents.
“Now would be a good time to talk, about if that’s a plus. You’re still grinning like a maniac, so I have a guess as to what you’re about to say.”
He sighed almost dreamily as he looked up at you, resting his cheek in his hand. “You’re just… the most beautiful woman in the world to me, right now. And I love you, so much.”
“This, me sitting on the toilet in our tiny hallway bathroom, having just peed on a stick in front of you,” you pointed between the two of you, “is one of the least romantic situations I think we’ve ever been in. But, I love you too, you weirdo.”
“That wasn’t my answer, by the way. You go first, you’d be the one carrying any baby of ours, after all.”
“After Woobin, I told myself that if I had another, I’d do it…” You trailed off as you fumbled around for the right word.
“Right?” Kun supplemented hesitantly.
“No, no, I don’t think Woobin was wrong. That’s one thesaurus entry away from ‘mistake,’ as cheesy as that might sound. But, I told myself that I’d do my next one different. I’d be married to someone, we’d have planned the pregnancy over multiple conversations, talked about kids before we even got married in the first place, I’d have talked to Binnie about it, made sure he had the emotional space for a little sibling, too.”
“And we haven’t even talked about getting married…” He breathed out in realization.
You narrowed your eyes. “Qian Kun, do you think for even a second, that I would be with you if I didn’t think that I could marry you one day? After everything you’ve learned about me? After that whole toilet bowl confessional I just gave literally ten seconds ago? Consider this the marriage talk warning. It’s coming, and when it does, I expect you to bring notes.”
“Good point, I’m sorry for doubting you, lovey. I eagerly await the marriage talks, and I’ll make sure to do my research ahead of time.”
“Good.”
“So that’s how you want to do it. What about if that test is positive? Right now?” He returned you to the present, his voice gentle, as you were reminded of the very real, very possible, tangible now that you were being faced with.
You let your head drop forward into your hands as you tried to pick apart the tangled ball that was your thoughts and feelings. Thinking back to when you were doing this by yourself the first time in your workplace bathroom, when you found out you were pregnant with Binnie… you distantly remembered how you felt when you saw that double line, that positive result. There was definitely anxiety, yes, but more than that you remembered an excitement bubbling up and overflowing on top of that the longer that it registered.
This time, you weren’t feeling any of that. Not because you didn’t love the idea of having a child with Kun, but… it just wouldn’t be the right time. The two of you had only recently moved in together, you were still getting used to enmeshing your two—or, four—separate lives into one, you hadn’t even been together for a year, Woobin and Junyi hadn’t been consulted whatsoever, not to mention they had just started VPK and would be going into primary school next year; Kun had just gotten a promotion at work, yes, but you had your eye on your own possible promotion, too. It just… wasn’t right. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally looked up at Kun sitting across from you in the narrow space of the hallway bathroom. You could feel the tears gathering in your eyes, his image immediately swimming in your vision.
“Oh, hey, come here, lovey,” he gently ushered you down from your perch on the toilet seat cover onto the ground with him. He settled you in between his legs, wrapping his arms around you, “Sad cry or scary cry?”
You had the urge to smack his arm for treating you like one of the kids, but unfortunately, it was a really good communication tool.
“Goddamn,” you wept against his shirt, clinging onto him. “I don’t know, Kun. I don’t fucking know. It’s not a happy cry, though. And I don’t think that any kid should be brought into the world if their mom isn’t happy at the thought of them.”
He rubbed a hand up and down your back, not faltering for a moment as you spoke. When you were done, he started, “Look, Y/N. I’ll admit, the idea of having a baby with you kind of sent me to the stratosphere there for a second. But, I think that a baby is something that needs to be two enthusiastic yeses, or it’s a no. And you…” he pulled your face out of the crook of his neck to be able to look you in the eye. “Are clearly not enthusiastic nor a yes. So I’m not either. Okay?”
You sniffled, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated, wiping at your tears. “Now, I think it’s been plenty of time. Are you ready to look at the test?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Kun stretched his arm out, fumbling along the top of the bathroom counter until he had secured the test in his hand. You turned in his arms, fully leaned against him, your back to his chest as he flipped the stick over for you two to read the results together.
Negative.
And you were crying again, but this time you knew that they were tears of relief.
“Oh, thank God,” you whispered, holding a hand over your mouth. “Oh… oh my God.”
“There we go,” Kun murmured, holding you to him by an arm slung over your waist. “Now, call me crazy, but I think we just manifested that negative pregnancy test result.”
You let out a choked laugh, “Would it be manifesting a negative or un-manifesting a positive?”
“Good question.”
He held a foot out until he could reach the step opener of the trash can, tossing the test into it. You sat there with him for who knows how much longer, until the cold of the tile finally seeped through your clothes, and your joints were aching from being curled up on your bathroom floor for so long.
“Oh shit, the boys are all by themselves in the living room,” you mumbled, beginning to detangle yourself from Kun.
“I’ll clean up in here. You get into some pajamas and then go see them, okay? They’ve been the normal amount of quiet, I think the movie’s got them sufficiently occupied, so take your time. I’ll be right behind you.” He reassured you, standing up after you did, and keeping a hand on the small of your back as you went to wash your hands again.
The remnants of the pregnancy test packaging were on the counter, not to mention the general disarray from your breakdown, and the fact that you hadn’t tidied up from the boys’ bathtime earlier that night either. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you could see that you weren’t in much better shape than the bathroom.
“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Kun.” Your voice wasn’t any louder than a whisper, and it didn’t need to be in the small, quiet space.
He pressed a long kiss to your temple before you left for your bedroom to change out of the clothes that you’d gone to the convenience store in. Putting on the comfiest pajamas you could find, you then shuffled out to the living room, which you were glad to see was in one piece. Tension you didn’t even realize you were carrying released from your shoulders when your eyes fell on the two kids sat on the couch, their attention glued to the screen.
You weren’t sure how long you had been standing there before Woobin finally turned his head to look at you. “Oh hi Mommy!”
“Hi, Ms. Y/N!”
“Hi, boys, can I join you?” You asked.
“Well, yeah!” Junyi said in the most ‘duh!’ tone you’d ever heard a four-year-old imitate. He patted the open space between the two of them. “We saved you a spot here.”
“Oh, thank you.” You sat down exactly where he had gestured, tucking your feet underneath you. Woobin immediately clambered onto your lap, and Junyi scooted in to snuggle into your other side.
“And when Daddy gets here, his spot is over here,” Junyi pointed to the remaining space between him and the arm of the couch. “And he can put the blanket on all of us.”
“Right, of course, bun,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around the two boys to hold them even closer to you.
Woobin touched a hand to your cheek, “Mommy, you’re crying. Sad cry, scary cry, or boo-boo cry?”
“Oh, no, baby, it's a happy cry,” you assured him, wiping at the couple of tears that had eked out again with your sleeve. “It’s because I love you all so much.”
“Happy cry,” he repeated, as if committing the term to memory.
Kun joined the three of you a few minutes later, sliding into his assigned seat and pulling a blanket over the four of you. Mindful of the child in between you two, you rested your head on his shoulder.
Against your instincts, you shut the front door quietly behind you as you came home that night. You’d gotten caught up at work with a deadline suddenly being moved up. You plopped your purse onto the kitchen table next to the huge LEGO set that you’d started with the boys last weekend as Kun got up from the couch to greet you. He was already in his pajamas, a stark contrast to the office wear you were still in.
“Hey, lovey,” he pecked your cheek, letting you snake both your arms around his waist and hold him closer. “How was work?”
You let out a low, exhausted groan into his shoulder. “Long. If I ever have to read another word again in my life, it’ll be too soon.”
“Then you’ll be very happy to hear that I already read the boys a bedtime story.”
“Shit, am I that late?” You sighed. “I know I told you I’d probably miss dinner but I didn’t mean for you to do bedtime all by yourself, too.”
“It’s okay, I know you would’ve been here if you could. The three of us managed for one night.”
“How was everything? Were they good for you?”
“Absolute angels.”
You lifted your head up to shoot him a disbelieving look. “Our sons? Are you sure you’ve got the right kids in there?”
Kun chuckled, planting a kiss on your lips this time. “You know us too well. Only convinced them to get in bed with bribery.”
“Great, what did you promise them? Extra hour of TV this weekend? Kun, please do not tell me you promised a new toy or—”
“Woah, woah, who do you think I am?” He snorted, clearly offended. “I just had to promise that you’d give them their goodnight kiss when you got home. They were very concerned about going to sleep without one.”
Relief immediately flooded your system, along with a warm fondness. “Oh, good. I’ll go hold up our end, then.”
“Before you do,” Kun held you by the waist to keep you from walking away yet. He lowered his voice, tone turning serious. “Woobin was asking for you before lights-out. Not just for his goodnight kiss, but he wouldn’t tell me what was going on. I have a feeling he might still be up when you go in.”
You nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll pop into his room second. Thanks for the heads-up.”
With a final pat on the cheek, you left Kun’s warm embrace and treaded down the hall that contained the boys’ bedrooms and shared bathroom. You slowly opened the door to Junyi’s room first. The room was pitch black save for the dwindling light from his glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars, and you crept up to his bedside. Just able to see the faint outline of him under his covers, you gently brushed away some of his hair and laid a soft kiss on his forehead.
“Night, bun-bun,” you murmured, then kissed his pudgy little cheek one more time before standing up. He didn’t stir, his breathing remained peaceful and as you ducked back out you closed the door even more quietly than you had opened it.
As soon as you pushed the door to Woobin’s room open, you knew he was awake. He was in a phase of sleeping with a night-light on, meaning that you could immediately see his eyes staring at you.
“Hi, Mommy,” he deadpanned, hands folded together over his stomach.
You entered the room, shutting the door behind you. “Hi, baby. What are you still doing up?”
He squirmed a little under the covers, refusing to meet your eyes as you came to sit on his mattress next to him. “Waiting for my goodnight kiss.”
“Oh, you could’ve gone to sleep,” you reassured him, moving his bangs out of the way of his forehead. “Mommy would’ve still come and given you your goodnight kiss.”
He was silent as you leaned down to smooch his forehead. Pulling back, you asked, “Is that all, Binnie?”
Woobin mumbled something that you couldn’t quite make out.
“I’m sorry, could you say that again for me? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I want to say something, but it’s after my bedtime…”
“Don’t worry, baby. I want to hear what you have to say. You can say it now.”
“I don’t want Junyi to be mad at me.”
“Why do you think Junyi would be mad at you?”
“You can’t tell them!” He suddenly exclaimed, pleading and desperate.
“Tell who? Junyi and Mr. Kun?” You asked, brow furrowing with confusion.
He nodded fervently, panic on his features.
“You remember our rules about sharing things?”
“If it’s about safety or respect, we all have to know,” he recited mournfully. “It’s not! I promise! I think…”
“How about you tell me, and I’ll tell you if it’s something we should tell everyone. I won’t get mad, and you and me can talk about it for as long as you want first. Does that sound okay?”
“Okay…”
“Whenever you’re ready,” you said soothingly, watching him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.
“I-I want to call Mr. Kun ‘Daddy.’”
You couldn’t help but smile widely at him, taking your son’s hand in yours. “That’s wonderful, baby. I think it would make Mr. Kun really happy that you want to.”
“But that’s what Junyi calls him…”
“And you think it would upset Junyi if you called him the same thing?”
“Yeah,” he sniffled.
“That’s very considerate, Binnie,” you told him proudly.
“Are you going to tell them?”
“No, not if you don’t want me to,” you shook your head. “But I think that it would be a good idea for you, Junyi, and Mr. Kun to all talk about this together. When you’re ready.”
Woobin sniffled again, and you leaned over to hug your boy. He immediately threw his arms around your neck, burying his wet face in the collar of your blouse.
When you finally left his room after watching him fall asleep with your own two eyes, you found Kun reclined in your bed, bedside lamp on as he read a book.
“Is Woobin alright?” Kun flipped his book shut and set it aside.
You shimmied out of your work clothes. “Yeah, he’s okay. Just… needed Mom before bed.”
He nodded, watching as you pulled sleep clothes on and shuffled over to the bathroom. “Mm, of course. Mr. Kun wasn’t enough…” He sighed dramatically, making you lean your head back out to glare at him, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth.
“Shut up,” you grumbled after spitting your toothpaste out and flicking the bathroom light off. You plopped into bed, snuggling up to your pillow and closing your eyes. “He loves you, you know that.”
The sound of the bedside lamp clicking off rang through your room before you felt the sheets shift around and Kun scoot closer to you.
“I know, I’m just not ‘Mom,’” he mused, grabbing your hands to tug you toward him.
You obliged, rolling over to face him and rest your head on his shoulder. He kissed your forehead, still holding your hands against his chest.
“Goodnight, my love,” you breathed out, “Thank you again for handling them alone tonight.”
“Goodnight, lovey.” He rubbed soothing circles into the palm of your hand with his thumb.
As you watched Kun alternate between pushing Woobin and Junyi on the swingset, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. It was peaceful afternoons like these that you treasured the most. You recognized a few more figures that were approaching the playground, waving to Johnny and Jaehyun in the distance as Mark and Sungchan immediately ran up to your two boys. The three dads all chatted as the four kids took off from the swingset at full speed towards the slides. You were on a bench a little further from the playset, and had no qualms about sitting and resting when you got the chance.
The playground was within walking distance of yours and Kun’s house, and right by the school, so it wasn’t a total shock to see some of your kids’ classmates there. You watched with amusement as all three of the adults perked up like meerkats towards the kids, who were now lined up at the monkey bars. Mark was first up, and must have been asking for help, as Johnny yelled out a ‘just a sec, champ!’ before gesturing between the three dads and all the kids clambering for their turn.
Apparently, Johnny and Jaehyun had decided it was their turn to help all four kids with the bars, as Kun lumbered over to plop down next to you at the picnic table.
“Thank God they showed up, I don’t know if I have it left in me to carry them back and forth across the monkey bars for the next hour,” Kun grunted, dropping his head down to rest on your shoulder.
You snickered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you watched all the children play. Woobin was the littlest, needing Jaehyun’s help all the way across the bars. The dad still gave him as enthusiastic of a double high-five as he gave Junyi after him, who was able to do a couple by himself after getting hoisted up there.
“Woobin wants to call you Dad, you know,” you blurted out in the quietness that had fallen between you and Kun.
Kun lifted his head up to look at you with wide eyes. “He does?”
“Yeah, he told me the other day. But he thinks Junyi will be mad at him.”
“Ohh…” He breathed out, nodding slowly.
“I would’ve said something to you, but he asked me not to tell you and Junyi at first. We had another conversation about it this morning, and he finally agreed that I could talk to you about it at least,” you explained. “I told him that you three should all talk. I think he’s really, really scared of making Junyi upset. They’re such good friends, you know?”
You looked on with fondness as the gaggle of kids around the monkey bars took off at a run away from Johnny and Jaehyun, apparently playing some kind of tag or hide and seek now. Woobin and Junyi were running off together hand-in-hand, giggling and cackling with laughter as Johnny mimicked chasing after them.
Kun ran a knuckle up and down your arm, trailing his hand down until he could lace his fingers with yours. “I know, sometimes I look at them and I think it’s like they’re… brothers.”
“Mm, yeah,” you hummed noncommittally. Finally taking your eyes off the playground, you turned to face him fully, covering his hand with both of yours. “Kun, with all this… it makes me really happy, you and Junyi make me really happy, and all four of us being together. But, I don’t— I’m not trying to replace Junyi’s mom. Despite what she did, he’s already had one, whatever memories he’s got of her. I want to be whatever he wants me to be. So, I’m perfectly content to be ‘Ms. Y/N’ for the rest of my life.”
“I asked him the other day, if he remembered his mom at all,” he admitted quietly.
“W-Why?”
“Morbid curiosity, I guess. He was so young, I wasn’t sure if he would. Funny thing was, he told me yes. So I asked what he remembered about her. And he just looked at me with the most confused expression I think I’ve ever seen him have and he goes ‘She picked me up from school today.’”
“Oh, oh my God,” you let out a choked chuckle, a lump growing in your throat.
“You picked him up from school that day, Y/N,” Kun said pointedly, poking you in the arm for emphasis.
“Yeah, I had guessed that,” you spluttered out, a wide, beaming smile on your face as you replayed those words in your mind over and over again.
“So it seems like, to me, you’re the only one with hang-ups about this, lovey.”
“I’m gonna fucking cry— no, scratch that, I already am,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes with one of your hands.
“Sad cry, scary cry, boo-boo cry, or happy cry?” Kun asked teasingly, thumb wiping away one of your tears.
“Happy cry,” you answered, despite the fact that he definitely already knew. “So happy. I love you so much, both of you.”
“Junyi!” The distant voice of Johnny called out, chastising.
Both you and Kun snapped your heads up to look, only to see said child running at you full-speed.
“Woobin! Let your parents…” Jaehyun trailed off in defeat as a second small body hurtled towards you. “Sorry! We tried to let you guys have a moment…”
“It’s alright!” Kun called back to them as the two boys finally made it to you.
You lifted Junyi up onto the bench next to you with no hesitation, and Kun plopped Woobin onto his lap, his little legs reaching into yours. Junyi sat himself down on one of your legs, facing you with the most worried, intense gaze on his face.
“Are you okay, Ms. Y/N?!” He wiped at your wet cheeks. “What happened?”
“Nothing, hunny-bun,” you promised, holding both of his little hands and dropping loud smooches to them. “Happy tears, they’re happy tears. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“Because you love us so much?” Woobin asked, supplying the last reason you’d given him for your happy tears.
“Yeah, always, bubbles,” you grabbed his head to be able to press a kiss to his forehead. “Always love you guys so much.”
“Why does it make you cry?”
“Because I have so much love inside me for all of you that sometimes it feels like I could just… burst!” You said with enough of a sing-song-y inflection that it made the two kids giggle, especially when you mimicked an explosion with your hands. “So instead of spontaneously exploding, it comes out as tears sometimes. Tears aren’t bad, Binnie, remember?”
“I know, Mommy,” he nodded dutifully.
Kun spoke up then, “I think we should all talk about what was making your mom so happy this time, boys.”
Junyi looked at his dad with alarm. “What? Bin and I didn’t do anything! We’re not in trouble, right?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Woobin pouted. “Junyi—”
“No, you’re not in trouble,” Kun hushed them gently. “I just said it was making your mom happy. What about you two getting in trouble would make your mom happy?”
“Oh.”
“I mean, it’s about what you two want to call us.”
You were still cradling Woobin’s head, and stroked over his hair reassuringly. “It’s okay, Binnie. Tell them what you told me.”
“I-I want to call Mr. Kun ‘Daddy,’” he mumbled, looking down intently at his lap. “But I don’t have to if it’s going to make you sad, Junyi!”
Junyi listened to Woobin, face turning entirely confused. “But he is your dad! Why wouldn’t you call him that?” He turned his bewildered look to you next. “And you’re our mom, right?!”
“Of course I am, bun-bun,” you smiled at him. “Binnie just needs to know if it’s going to make you upset for both of you to call your dad the same thing.”
“No, Bin, s’not gonna make me sad,” Junyi said strongly. “Will it make you sad if we call her the same thing?”
Woobin sniffled and looked up, finally displaying his teary eyes to everybody. He shook his head, and you felt relief blossom out through every part of you. Kun squeezed him tightly.
“Bub, sad cry, scary cry, or happy cry?” Kun asked him.
The child took several deep breaths before he finally answered. “I-I think it was scary first, but now it’s a happy cry, Daddy. Like Mommy does.”
Kun let out a strangled chuckle as he hugged Woobin even tighter to him, planting a kiss to his temple. “That’s okay, bub. Look at you, big kid with big feelings.”
“Daddy’s crying too!” Junyi gasped. “Is it happy crying, Daddy?”
“Yeah, buddy, it is,” he confirmed, cheeks noticeably damp.
Junyi felt at his own dry eyes. “Why am I not happy crying? Mommy, why am I not happy crying? ‘M happy! I am!”
“Oh, bunny, it’s okay,” you couldn’t help but laugh, rubbing his back affectionately. “You don’t have to cry to be really happy. Sometimes you’ll be really, really happy, the happiest you’ve ever been, and you won’t cry. Everybody’s different.”
“I do.”
“I do!” Sooyoung squealed.
The officiant’s remaining words were drowned out by the crowd erupting into cheers as Sooyoung was dipped into a kiss by her now-wife. You clapped from your place behind her as her maid-of-honor, your cheeks already hurting from all the smiling you’d been doing that day.
As they practically ran back down the aisle together, giddy, you were left standing at the arch, holding SooSoo’s wedding bouquet that she’d forgotten in her excitement. The music swelled again, your cue for the wedding party to file out as well. You fell in beside Ahrin’s best man, taking a more reasonable pace down the walkway. Looking into the guests that had stood up, you caught Kun’s eye from one of the middle rows, a familiar wide, overjoyed grin on his face. He was in the stratosphere again.
You met up with Kun at your table at the reception, the wedding party table. While he wasn’t in the party, he was your plus one, and your friend of course made sure he was seated with you. After the obligatory speeches—including one that you had to give—everyone could start eating. Kids were allowed at the wedding, but you wanted to make sure that you could put all your focus on making this the best day ever for your friend and didn’t want to have the boys out too late either, so they were at home with a babysitter. After the food was the couple’s first dance, and you watched fondly from your table as Sooyoung and Ahrin swayed together, clearly in their own world, exchanging words and giggles and laughs that you couldn’t hear.
Kun’s hand and yours were entwined on your lap, and when the DJ asked for the wedding party and their plus-ones to join the newlyweds, you pulled him to floor by that hand. As Kun’s other hand settled on your hip, you affectionately smoothed down the lapel of his suit jacket before resting yours on the curve where his neck met his shoulder.
“Hi, gorgeous,” he beamed at you.
“Hi, handsome,” you replied back humorously. “So, what’s on your mind?”
“You mean there could possibly be anything on my mind other than the fact that I’m dancing with the love of my life?”
“You’ve got that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I’ve been launched into the stratosphere picturing our future together’ look,” you said frankly, but still with the same fond smirk on your lips. “So? What are you thinking about?”
His eyes widened minutely before he chuckled. “I’m having a good time with you, lovey. Is a guy not allowed to smile about that?”
“You are…”
“That’s all I was thinking about.” He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Always in the stratosphere when I’m with you.”
Despite his sweet words, you felt a twinge of disappointment in your chest, resting your cheek on his shoulder so he couldn’t see the contemplative frown on your face. The two of you were living together before Sooyoung and Ahrin had even met, you were raising two kids together right now, and had already discussed getting married—binders, spreadsheets, all your joint expectations for what you wanted out of a hypothetical future partnership like that. Why was he shying away from the subject now? Was seeing you actually at a wedding making him have second thoughts? Did it suddenly all seem too real? As if the binders and spreadsheets weren’t real enough?
Those weren’t questions to ask him now at your best friend’s wedding, so you bit your tongue, continuing to let him sway the two of you across the dance floor.
Later in the night, after your feet had gotten tired, Kun excused himself to use the restroom. You took the opportunity to catch your breath at the wedding party’s table. You’d been darting around the venue the whole time, either greeting friends of friends, dancing with people you knew, or stopping mishaps before they mis-happened. Some guests had started going home, so you felt somewhat comfortable taking a short rest.
You weren’t expecting one of the brides herself to sit down beside you, however.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Sooyoung asked knowingly.
You tried to perk up, slapping on a smile. “It’s nothing, SooSoo. My feet are tired. Why aren’t you with Ahrin?”
“We’re about to be together for the rest of our lives. I think she can piss by herself right now,” she replied.
“Oh, right.”
“And, it’s also my wedding, and I don’t want my best friend all sad and alone at my wedding. I know you’ve been fixing all my problems all day and all night. So will you let me help you with one of yours?”
You looked around to see if you could spot Kun anywhere, then leaned in towards her with a sigh. “Kun’s been acting weird today.”
“How?”
“We always talk about getting married pretty openly. But like, now that we’re at a wedding, it feels like he’s avoiding the topic.”
“Why haven’t you guys gotten married? You practically act like it anyway.”
“He still wants to surprise me with the proposal,” you said. “I told him no public proposals, no proposing on birthdays or holidays, and no proposing at other people’s weddings. But other than that…”
“When was that conversation? About getting married and engaged?”
You took a sip of your drink as you thought. “Mm… almost a year ago? Maybe ten months? It was a few conversations.”
“So Ahrin proposed like right after that,” she surmised. “He’s probably waiting for the right time. Making sure you weren’t too stressed with the kids, then the holidays, and being my maid-of-honor. Both of you are very thoughtful and also over-plan everything.”
“That’s true,” you sighed. “And also a bit less salient of a point coming from the poster child of U-Haul lesbians.”
Sooyoung wrapped an arm around your shoulders and rubbed your upper arm. “We’re different people in different relationships in different places in life, Y/N. You’ve got a really good guy who is head over heels for you and loves your kid as much as he loves you. Don’t forget all that in one night.”
“You’re right, SooSoo,” you leaned your head against hers. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” She pecked your hair.
“Is everything okay?” Kun’s voice came from behind you, sounding very concerned.
“Oh, yeah, Y/N’s getting a little warm in here,” SooSoo informed him brightly, letting you go and standing back up. “Why don’t you take her outside, Kun? There’s a nice little garden walkway, I think there’s some benches out there.”
“Yeah, of course. Thanks, Sooyoung.”
Your friend gave you one last squeeze of your arm before taking back off into the crowd. Kun ushered you to your feet and guided you out of the main reception hall and into the much cooler nighttime air. Sooyoung was right, it was way less hot and stuffy out here, and there was a short walkway leading to a garden with some benches. Kun sat you down again there, rubbing your back as you stared listlessly out at the fountain in front of you. The fountain wasn’t on, the water inside of it still, and the air around you quiet and empty. In the distance, you could hear the music from the wedding venue, the thumping bass, and above you, a few stars dotted the sky next to a silver crescent moon.
“Is this better?” Kun asked you quietly.
“Yeah, thanks, Kun,” you replied shortly, still unable to shake the discomfort you felt from earlier. Despite your conversation with Sooyoung making sense in the moment, now that you were back with Kun, that uncertainty crept back into your mind.
“It was a lovely ceremony.”
“Yeah. SooSoo’s dress is beautiful on her.”
“Do you want to go home? If you’re not feeling—”
You suddenly straightened up to look Kun in the eye. “We’re going to get married, right? You do want to marry me, right, Kun?”
“Wh—” He scrambled to grab your hands in his, holding them tight. “Of course, love. Yes, of course I want to marry you, Y/N. Why would you think I didn’t?”
“I know we talk about it but… you haven’t proposed. And you’ve been acting weird tonight. And by weird, I mean normal. Like, not talking about marriage. We’ll be buying groceries, and you’ll somehow bring up us getting married, but now we’re at an actual wedding and you haven’t talked about us having one of our own at all…” The dam broke, all of your anxious rambles coming forth at once. “Nothing about if we should do this or that at ours, what flowers you might want, or even— You saw me at an altar holding a bouquet and are acting like it’s no big deal! You see our future in everything, but not today, and it’s been making me think that maybe you don’t see a future anymore.”
Oh god, you were fucking crying now. This was not how you wanted this conversation to go. Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you pushed them away with the back of your hand as you sniffled and tried to calm yourself down.
“Y/N, lovey, I am so sorry,” Kun’s voice was wavering too, and you knew he was holding back his own tears. “I do want to marry you, and I never wanted to make you think that I didn’t. You were right earlier, I’ve been in the fucking stratosphere all day, and I’ve been going crazy trying not to say every single thing that pops into my head about marrying you because I’ve got your ring and everything planned out for the proposal and it was going to be soon, I just wanted it to be a surprise for you and I didn’t want to accidentally spoil anything for you. But I never meant to hurt you, and I am so, so sorry that I did. God, I love you so much, it felt like my heart was going to give out when I saw you at the altar with a wedding bouquet, and then dancing after the first dance—”
You crushed your lips against his, letting go of one of his hands to wrap a hand around the back of his neck. He cupped your cheek softly, even as you kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in decades, and like you might never again, feverishly, past the point where you were out of oxygen and your head started spinning. Kun pulled back to pick up your left hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss on your ring finger.
“If I had it with me, I’d put your ring on you right now,” he promised, pressing another kiss to the empty knuckle. “Hell, we could elope tonight, find a drive-thru chapel.”
“The boys might feel left out,” you chuckled, pulling his mouth back to yours.
He hummed appreciatively against your lips, adding in between kisses, “Good— point. Pick them up on the way?”
“It’s past their bedtime.” You kissed him again. “They’d be cranky if we woke them up now.”
“Foiled again by two five-year-olds’ bedtime,” he sighed dramatically, leaning his forehead against yours.
“So how were you going to do it?”
“Do what?”
“Propose to me.”
“I’m still going to?”
“Well, I feel like I just ruined your surprise.”
“Me telling you what it’s going to be, would be ruining the surprise,” he scoffed and pulled back to let you see his indignant features. “Which I’m not going to do.”
You laughed, pecking his cheek. “I’m looking forward to it, my love.”
“And I’m looking forward to marrying you, and spending the rest of my life with you,” Kun sighed dreamily, pulling you in closer and resting his head against yours again. “I meant it when I said I’m always in the stratosphere with you, you know.”
“Me too, Kun.” You looped an arm around his back and under his suit jacket.
A few beats of peaceful silence went by, neither you nor Kun speaking, just the distant sounds of the music from the wedding, your own synchronized breathing, and a far-off train horn. You looked from the fountain up at the glowing half-moon above you.
“Thank you, lovey,” Kun broke the quiet, and you shifted your gaze to him, raising a curious eyebrow.
“You’re welcome?” You replied with slight amusement. “For what, love?”
“Somebody once told me that the whole point of being a parent was letting our kids know that they’re not alone in all this,” he began, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder where his hand rested.
“Who said that?”
“You did, lovey.”
“I did? Ooh, I’m smart,” you chuckled, patting his thigh. “You picked well, Qian Kun.”
He smiled at you fondly. “I know.”
“When did I say that?”
“Before we were even dating, you had invited Junyi and me to your apartment for a charcuterie night. When we were making that pitch for the preschool fundraising committee.”
“Oh, oh, oh, right.” You nodded quickly as the memories of that came flooding back to you. “You remember me saying that?”
“Of course. You completely changed my view on parenting that night.”
“Glad it was so life-changing for you.”
“It was also the moment I knew I was going to fall in love with you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh maybe a little too hard, “Oh, Kun.”
“What’s that laugh for?” He chuckled lightly despite his obvious confusion.
“I’m just remembering how I was totally going to jump your bones that night and then Junyi walked in. Meanwhile you are just… so sweet, as always,” you admitted, stroking his cheek with the back of your fingers.
Kun’s eyes crinkled as he laughed and keeled forward a little. You let him laugh into your neck, cradling the back of his head as his shoulders continued to shake.
“I—” He coughed into his elbow as he righted himself and tried to compose himself again. His eyes were sparkling with tears from how hard he’d laughed as he looked at you now, and you affectionately touched the crinkles around his eye as a couple more giggles escaped him. Once he’d finally sobered up enough, he tried again, “You’ve also helped me realize that’s not just what being a parent is about, though. That’s what being a partner is, too. Making sure your person knows they’re not doing it alone. And I hope that’s how I make you feel, too.”
“Qian Kun, love of my life that you are—” you shook your head and grabbed his face with two hands. “Of course you do, and it’s taking everything in me not to squish your head right now because of how much I love you.”
Kun just laughed again, covering your hands with his and slotting your lips together.
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