NAVIGATION

✎ [MINGYU’S MASTERLIST]

✎ [WONWOO’S MASTERLIST]

✎ [JEONGHAN’S MASTERLIST]

✎ [SOONYOUNG’S MASTERLIST]

✍︎ OT13

so wonwoo’s enlisted…what the fuck do i do with my life now???

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MY WORKS | drabbles / smau

— [JEONGHAN]

[a/n: anything below 2k words is classed as a drabble on my page]

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✎ bruises and kisses

BRUISES AND KISSES

❧ PAIRING; jeonghan x reader

❧ GENRE; hurt/comfort, fluff

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; established relationship, mention of a fight, mentions of injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff

❧ WORDCOUNT; 0.8k

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Jeonghan sat on the worn-out motel bed with his knuckles split and crusted with dried blood. His bottom lip was swollen, and a thin line of red traced down to his chin where a fresh cut sat angrily against his skin.

Your hands were shaking as you reached for him, and your fingers hesitated just before touching his cheek. Your breath hitched. Your chest rose and fell too fast, too erratic.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly as his bruised jaw tightened. “Baby—”

“Don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head as you tried to hold back the tears welling up in your eyes.

You practically watched it all unfold. The way the man at the bar smirked at you. The crude words he spat in your direction. The way Jeonghan reacted without hesitation.

You barely processed the insult before Jeonghan shoved his chair back with a loud scrape and his fists already flying. It was brutal — quick, ruthless and filled with an anger you rarely saw in him.

But now, as he sat there battered and bruised, he didn’t look angry. He looked at you the way he always did. A softness that made your chest ache. A small, lopsided smile played on his busted lips, and that broke you.

Finally letting the tears spill over, you let out a shaky sob.

“Baby, please don’t cry,” Jeonghan mumbled tenderly, though his voice was rough.

You sniffled and ignored him as your fingers hovered over his cheek before pressing against his jaw. When he flinched slightly, you flinched back in response.

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. “You’re hurt,” you whispered almost inaudibly.

Jeonghan exhaled through his nose, his fingers twitching against his thigh as if he wanted to reach for you. “It’s not as bad as it looks” he tried to reassure you.

But you shot him a look that told him you weren’t in the mood for his nonchalance.

“You always do this,” you said.

“You act like you’re made of stone, like you can take every hit without flinching.”

Your hands curled into tight fists against your lap. “But I saw you Jeonghan. I saw him punch you. I saw the blood.”

Jeonghan sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Y/n I love you, and I wasn’t gonna let him talk to you like that.”

Your throat tightened. “I know.”

And that was the worst part. You knew.

Jeonghan was always protective of you, sometimes to a fault. He would do anything to shield you, even if it meant breaking himself in the process. It scared you — this self-destructive need he had to take on the world for you sake. You loved him for it, but God, you hated it too.

You reached forward and gently cupped his face in your hands. His skin was warm in your palms as your eyes traced every bruise and every scrape.

Jeonghan just let you, and his body relaxed under your gentle touch. He always did.

Slowly, you leaned in and your lips pressed the softest kiss against the corner of his mouth — right where the wound met unbroken skin.

Jeonghan sucked in a sharp breath, and his body went still.

Your lips lingered for a second longer as a silent apology and a silent plea for him to stop putting himself in harm’s way for you.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes still glossy with unshed tears and your bottom lip trembling. “You scare me when you do this,” you admitted.

Jeonghan’s expression softened. He reached his hand out and used his thumb to brush away a stray tear from your cheek.

“I’m sorry baby, I don’t mean to.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “I know.”

For a moment, you both sat in silence. Then, Jeonghan finally moved. His fingers slipped under your chin and tilted your face up so you were looking at him again.

“Come here,” he whispered.

You hesitated for only a second before closing the space between you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Jeonghan let out a quiet sigh, his arms coming around you to hold you close.

“You’re okay,” you mumbled against his skin, as if saying it enough times would make it true.

“I am now” Jeonghan pressed a kiss against your temple.

You pulled back and looked at him in the eyes intently. “Promise me,” you managed through a broken whisper.

Jeonghan knew what you were asking.

He let out a slow breath as his fingers tracer circles against your lower back. “I promise to try.”

It wasn’t the promise you wanted. But it was Jeonghan. And for now, that was enough.

You sighed and leaned in again, pressing another kiss to his bruised lip. It was softer this time, like you were trying to heal the wound with every touch. Jeonghan kissed you back just as slow and gentle, despite the pain it probably caused him.

When you both finally pulled away, Jeonghan gave you that same lopsided grin.

“You should see the other guy.”

You rolled your eyes as a watery laugh escaped your lips. “Idiot.”

Jeonghan chuckled, but winced slightly. “But I’m your idiot.”

And God help you, he was.

BLOOM WITH YOU | month 1

❧ PAIRING; wonwoo x reader

❧ GENRE; angst, fluff, mild smut

❧ WARNINGS; mention of fainting and hospitalisation, mention of past miscarriages, deep talk, mentally and physically drained reader, medical talks

❧ WORDCOUNT; 5.3k

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series masterlist

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▍5 JANUARY 2026

Your period was late. In fact your periods were never on time — rather always irregular.

But unlike before, there was no rush of excitement, no flutter in your chest, no anxious anticipation. There was only exhaustion.

It wasn’t a surprise, not anymore. The first time it happened, you felt the thrill, the rush of hope. The second time, that hope turned into nervous excitement. By the third, fourth, fifth and sixth, it became a cruel cycle of expectation and heartbreak.

And now, the seventh time, all you felt was exhaustion.

There was no point in wondering, no reason to let yourself feel anything at all. You had done this before. You had taken tests before — stared at little plastic sticks with trembling fingers, held your breath as you waited for a result, then felt the crushing weight of reality settle in when the inevitable happened.

But Wonwoo never blamed you. Not once, and that was what made it harder. If anything, he loved you more and more.

If he had been angry, if he had shown even a flicker of disappointment, maybe you would have had someone else to direct your frustration toward. But he never did. He never looked at you with anything less than love.

His way of showing that love changed over time. In the beginning, he would whisper reassurances, hold you close, and promise you that there was no rush, that everything would be okay. But when words failed, he turned to actions instead.

Lately, his way of showing love to you was to make love to you.

It wasn’t about trying again or about chasing the dream of a family you had once wanted so badly. It was about reminding you that you were enough, that your worth wasn’t measured by your ability to carry a child.

Not even six miscarriages could make him love you any less. And you wished you could believe that.

The sound of a dramatic OST played in the background as you sat on the sofa, absently stuffing grapes into your mouth. You weren’t really paying attention to the show playing on the screen — it was just white noise, something to fill the silence that had settled into your apartment.

“Don’t you think you should take a test?”

You barely heard the words at first, so immersed in your own thoughts that they barely registered. It wasn’t until the screen in front of you shut off, leaving the room in silence, that your brain caught up.

You blinked at the dark screen.

Saehee stood beside you with the remote still in her hand as she braced herself for a reaction. You knew why. Normally, you would have snapped at her and thrown a pillow at her head, or at least groaned in frustration for interrupting your show.

However, today, you didn’t have the energy. Instead, you exhaled slowly as your shoulders sagged. You didn’t turn to face her.

Saehee didn’t move either. She stood there with her arms crossed, watching you with that concerned look that made you feel both grateful and irritated at the same time.

“I don’t want to take a test,” you admitted with your voice quieter than you intended.

Saehee didn’t respond right away. You knew what she was thinking. She was probably choosing her words carefully, and tried to figure out the best way to talk to you without pushing too hard.

Besides Wonwoo, she was there for you through everything — every loss, every tear, every sleepless night where you had collapsed into her arms because you hadn’t wanted Wonwoo to see you break again. She knew better than anyone how fragile this topic was for you.

“Why not?” she asked eventually.

You swallowed. “Because I already know how this ends.”

“But what if…” she hesitated as her fingers fidgeted in her lap. “What if this time is different?”

“You know what my doctor said, Saehee. My uterus is abnormally shaped, which makes it very difficult for me to carry a pregnancy to full term” you almost snapped.

“And your doctor also said that some women have successfully given birth with the same condition as you. What if this is the one time it actually works out? Wouldn’t you want to know?” she tried to reason.

You stared down at the grape stem in your hand, picking at the tiny ends where the fruit had been. You wanted to believe her. You wanted to cling to the hope she was offering. But hope, you painfully came to learn, was dangerous. Hope had crushed you more times than you could count.

“I can’t go through that again,” you whispered.

“I can’t get my hopes up just to lose another—” you cut yourself off, the lump in your throat making it impossible to finish the sentence.

Saehee walked over and sat down next to you. She reached over and took your hand in hers, squeezing gently. “I know,” she said softly.

“But you deserve to know. Even if it’s scary.”

“You aren’t alone in this Y/n. The medical world today has advanced so much. There’s still options out there that could help your case” she went on to say. You swallowed hard, your gaze still fixed downward. You wished it were that simple.

You remembered the three-page letter that Dr. Jung had sent you two months ago that gave you answers and information you needed. It detailed your condition, which you learned was called ‘Uterine Hypoplasia’, a condition where the uterus is smaller than the average size for a woman’s age.

Reasons? You didn’t exactly know, but Dr. Jung said it could be due to genetic factors, hormonal imbalances or medical conditions. As far as you and your parents were aware, you didn’t have any known or hidden medical conditions.

The other main thing the letter also explained was the treatment options. Although natural conception wasn’t impossible, it could still be quite challenging. But many women with a small uterus have successfully been pregnant and carried their pregnancies to full term with the right medical support.

Dr. Jung laid out the options for you: hormonal therapy, surgical interventions, and assisted reproductive technologies like IVF and IUI. She suggested that, after thorough examination, that you opt for hormonal therapy.

But you had yet to respond to her letter. Wonwoo suggested giving it a try, so did your mother and Saehee. But your hopes were too down in the gutter to even consider it.

╶╶╶╶╶

[19:45 p.m.]

Saehee left two hours ago, leaving you pacing back and forth in the bathroom. Your arms were tightly wrapped around yourself, and you were biting your lip so hard you could almost taste blood.

You made an unknowing promise yourself that you would never do this again.

After the last time — after sitting on the cold bathroom floor, sobbing as you clutched yet another failed pregnancy test — you swore you were done. No more tests. No more waiting. No more hope. Because hope, you painfully came to learn, was dangerous. Hope had crushed you more times than you could count.

But after Saehee pleaded, and also thinking back to Dr. Jung’s letter, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to find out.

And now here you were.

Waiting.

Dreading.

Your hands trembled as you reached up, gathering your hair into a messy bun. Loose strands slipped free, but you ignored them. The exhaustion in your eyes, the way your lips were pressed together in a thin, almost colorless line reflected in the mirror in front of you.

You looked…tired. Not just physically, but deep in your bones.

You took a slow step toward the sink. Then another. Your fingers spread across the cool porcelain and grounded yourself, inhaling deeply.

It was time.

You turned the test over.

Two red lines.

Positive.

The sight of it didn’t send a jolt of shock through you like it used to. There was no rush of excitement, no nervous flutter in your stomach like there used to be. Just a quiet, heavy acceptance.

Of course.

Of course, you were pregnant.

You knew your body well enough to recognise the signs — the fatigue, the nausea, the way your period never came when it was supposed to. You knew before you even took the test.

And yet…

Your grip on the sink tightened. You should have felt something.

Happiness? No. Not after everything.

Fear? Maybe. But even that felt dull now.

You exhaled slowly, your gaze locked onto those two little lines, as if staring at them long enough would make them disappear. But they wouldn’t.

Because this was real.

And you knew how it would end.

You lived through it six times already.

Your hand lowered to your stomach, pressing lightly against the fabric of your shirt. There was something growing inside you, once again, something fragile. Something that wasn’t meant to stay.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you forced yourself not to cry.

You wouldn’t do this again. You wouldn’t let yourself fall into the same cycle of false hope and devastation.

You had to protect yourself. From the inevitable heartbreak. From the disappointment in Wonwoo’s eyes. From the way he would still hold you still and whisper that it wasn’t your fault, even though it felt like it was.

You breathed in sharply, forcing yourself to open your eyes. The test was still there. The lines were still there. Nothing had changed.

Except, maybe, the way your heart felt heavier than before.

A lump formed in your throat, but before you could let the tears fall, a familiar voice broke through the heavy silence.

“Honey I’m home!”

Your eyes snapped open. You didn’t know why, but you panicked. Without thinking, you tossed it in the bin beneath the sink. You blinked away the moisture in your eyes and forced yourself to breathe steadily. You had to compose yourself.

With one last glance in the mirror, you smoothed your hands down your shirt and stepped out of the bathroom.

You found Wonwoo in the living room setting down his camera bag by the sofa. His dark eyes lifted and a soft smile spread across his lips as you approached.

“Hey baby,” he greeted as he crossed the room in a few long strides. His hands reached for you and pulled you close by the waist as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

You melted instantly and wrapped your arms around his torso. “How was the shoot?” you murmured.

“Long,” Wonwoo exhaled, resting his chin on top of your head. “But good. The couple was sweet, and the venue was beautiful. You would’ve loved it.”

You hummed in response, your fingers absentmindedly tracing small patterns on his back.

“And you?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look at you. “How was your day?”

“Saehee came to visit earlier” you forced a small smile.

Wonwoo’s eyes softened. “That’s nice. Did you two have fun?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “we just talked and caught up on things.”

It was a partial lie. While you and Saehee indeed talked and caught up on things about life while she was on her business trip to South Africa, Saehee was mainly concerned about you and how you were holding up. In fact she was the one to buy the test after you told her you missed your period.

“That’s good” he hummed.

“Are you hungry? I’m sorry I didn’t cook. If you want I can make something while you shower” you said.

“Hey,” your husband cupped your face, “it’s fine, we’ll just order” he reassured.

“Are you sure? We’ve been having a lot of takeaways lately and I don’t want you to end up having food poisoning” you let out a small giggle.

Wonwoo chuckled as he tucked the strands of hair behind your ear. “This will be the last time, I promise” he said, pecking your lips.

“Shower with me?” he then asked.

You hummed and allowed him to lead you upstairs.

▍6 JANUARY 2026

It wasn’t usual the way Wonwoo’s phone would blow up non-stop while he was in the middle of a shoot like it was right now. The way the vibration inside the pocket of his denim shorts was constant, he knew it was important.

Wonwoo lowered his camera and stood up from his crouching position. Letting the camera dangle around his neck, he fished for his phone and looked at the screen. There were five missed calls and ten text messages from Seahee, and three missed calls from an unknown number.

His brows knitted in confusion. And in that exact moment, his screen lit up with Saehee’s name.

He looked at the couple with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I have to take this” he notified them, and he was grateful they were understanding.

Turning around and walking out of the studio room, he swiped the green button and pressed the phone to his ear.

“Saehee, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Instead of a response, all he heard was muffled cries from the other end, like she was struggling to form words. Whatever it was, Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel his heart pounding. Like something was wrong.

“Saehee—”

“It’s Y/n” she finally spoke up.

And just like that, his heart dropped.

“S-She collapsed at work.”

Wonwoo couldn’t hear anything. His heart was pounding, and his mind was filled with a deafening noise that chanted your name over and over again. Nothing else even existed at that moment. He needed to get to you. He needed to be by your side.

Nothing else mattered.

Without a word to the couple, who stared at his alarmed expression, he turned on his heel and bolted out of the room. They barely had time to say anything before he was gone, disappearing down the hall in an instant.

His breath was ragged and his heartbeat was as he sprinted through the corridors. The moment he pushed through the doors of the building, the cold air hit him, but he barely felt it. His hands trembled as he reached into his pocket, fingers fumbling for his car keys. It took him two tries to get a grip on them before he yanked open the door and threw himself into the driver’s seat.

Wonwoo had never been a reckless driver. He followed every rule. He stopped at every red light, signaled even when there were no cars around. But right now? Right now, none of that mattered.

The tires screeched as he peeled out of the parking lot, and the speedometer climbed higher and higher. He knew he was going too fast. He knew he was being careless. But nothing — no law, no warning signs, no blaring horns from other drivers — could stop him from getting to you.

Because this wasn’t the first time.

It wasn’t the first time he made this drive with his heart in his throat and hands gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. It wasn’t the first time he received the dreaded call and the voice on the other end telling him to come to the hospital.

The road ahead became a blur as his vision clouded with tears that threatened to escape. He forced himself to blink them away, clenching his jaw so tightly it ached. His fingers dug into the leather of the steering wheel as his entire body tensed with anxiety.

He hated this. He hated the unexpectedness, and the feeling of helplessness.

He swerved into the hospital parking lot, barely managing to park his car correctly before jumping out. The door slammed shut behind him, but he didn’t even notice. His feet thumped against the ground as his legs carried him forwards before his mind could catch up.

The harsh and overly bright fluorescent lights in the hospital made his head ache. But he ignored the discomfort and headed straight for the reception desk.

“I’m looking for my wife, Jeon Y/n. Where is she?” he demanded, his voice rough and uneven.

The young receptionist, who saw Wonwoo more times than she would like to admit, didn’t even hesitate. Her fingers moved quickly across the keyboard as she pulled up your records.

“Room 717, the radiology department,” she told him, looking up with an expression that was all too familiar — pity.

Wonwoo barely managed to nod in thanks before he took off, his feet moving on autopilot down the hallways as fast as they could. His heart hammered with every step with dread creeping up his spine. He memorised this route. He walked these halls too many times before.

And yet, it never got easier.

When he reached Room 717, he didn’t pause. Didn’t knock. Didn’t hesitate. When he shoved the door open, his breath caught in his throat the moment his eyes laid on you.

You were lying on the hospital bed with the white sheets pulled up to your waist. The sight of the IV drip in your arm made something in him twist painfully. You looked so fragile. Your face was pale and your lips were slightly chapped. But what reassured him — what made his knees almost buckle with relief — was the way your chest rose and fell with each breath.

Dr. Jung was standing in the corner, flipping through her clipboard. She looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “She’s stable,” she said quietly.

Wonwoo exhaled sharply as his fingers ran through his hair. His body, which was running on pure adrenaline, suddenly felt heavy. But he didn’t stop moving.

As he walked towards you, he unhooked the camera from around his neck and set it on the small table beside your bed. His fingers hovered in the air for a moment before he finally reached out, a little hesitant.

His fingertips brushed against your cheek, and the coldness of your skin made his breath hitch. His lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, his eyes burned as he fought the lump in his throat.

And then, as if you felt him, your eyelids fluttered.

Wonwoo stilled, and his heart stopped for a brief second before your gaze finally focused on him. “Hey,” you murmured, a small, weak smile tugging at your lips as you leaned into his touch.

Wonwoo let out a shaky breath, feeling his entire body sagging in relief. “Are you okay? What happened?” his voice was hoarse.

He pulled the chair next to your bed closer and sat down before taking your hand in his. He lifted it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You hesitated as your eyes flickered away for a moment. “I was just coming out of the bathroom…and suddenly, I felt really lightheaded. And yeah…” you trailed off, your fingers curling slightly against his palm.

Wonwoo’s grip on your hand tightened. “You fainted?”

You nodded slowly.

A deep crease formed between his brows. Before he could speak, you interrupted him. “I’m fine now, really,” you said softly, trying to reassure him.

“Just a little tired, that’s all.”

But Wonwoo wasn’t convinced. He heard those words too many times before.

“I told you to stop skipping breakfast,” he scolded. “How many times have I told you?”

You blinked at him before breaking into a small, tired giggle. “You’re so cute when you scold,” you muttered. .

Wonwoo sighed, shaking his head, but he didn’t let go of your hand.

Dr. Jung stepped forward, breaking the silence that settled in the hospital room. “Right, are you ready to go ahead with the scan Y/n?” she asked calmly.

Wonwoo’s brows furrowed immediately. He was so focused on your wellbeing that he didn’t even think to ask what kind of tests they were going to run. His eyes darted between you and the doctor as confusion etched across his face.

“Scan? What scan?” he questioned with a sharp, urgent voice as if he missed something crucial.

You stiffened slightly, and your fingers instinctively tightened around the blanket on your lap. Your eyes travelled towards Wonwoo for a brief second before darting away, avoiding his gaze. The room suddenly felt small and suffocating.

Dr. Jung hesitated, looking at Wonwoo before turning back to you. “Y/n, did you not tell him?”

A lump formed in your throat. You couldn’t find it in yourself to answer.

“Tell me what?” Wonwoo asked, sounding frustrated, but underneath it, it was fear.

Silence hung between the three of you. You looked down at your lap, fiddling with the fabric of the hospital gown between your fingers. You wanted to tell him. You really did. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words. Not when you knew the kind of hope it would ignite in his eyes.

Dr. Jung sighed, sensing your reluctance. She turned to Wonwoo, who was now looking more anxious than ever. “She’s four weeks pregnant.”

The words slammed into him like a freight train.“What?” Wonwoo whispered, blinking as if he misheard her.

“You probably know it by now, but at this stage, she’s quite vulnerable,” Dr. Jung continued, keeping her voice measured and clinical. “Her blood pressure was low, which is why she fainted.”

Wonwoo’s heart plummeted to his stomach. His body froze, and for a second, he couldn’t move, not could he breathe. His eyes snapped to you, his lips parting as he struggled to find the right words.

“Y/n?” he called out, his voice soft, hesitant.

Slowly, you lifted your eyes to meet his. The moment your gazes locked, he saw it — the fear, the hesitation, the pain. His heart clenched at the sight.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked. You swallowed hard, then gave him a small nod.

His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling with the force of his emotions. Pregnant. The word echoed in his mind.

He should’ve felt elated. After all, this was something you both wanted for so long. But instead of excitement, all he could feel was the crack in his heart as he noticed the way you weren’t smiling, the way you were bracing yourself as if expecting the worst.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” there was a slight tremor in his voice which betrayed how deeply this affected him.

You exhaled, your shoulders slumping. “I only found out yesterday.”

Wonwoo’s breath hitched.

“Saehee convinced me to take a test when I told her I missed my period,” you admitted, still refusing to meet his gaze.

There was no joy in your voice. No excitement.

Only exhaustion.

Wonwoo’s heart ached. He could see it now. You were too scared to tell him. Too scared to believe in this miracle. Because you were here before — six tims. He was there for all of them. He watched you crumble, grieve, and smile through the pain even when he knew you were breaking inside.

And now, as he looked at you, he realised — this time, you weren’t even letting yourself hope.

“But Wonwoo,” you finally said, your voice quiet and fragile. “What if it doesn’t work out this time too?”

He sucked in a sharp breath.

“What if our baby never gets to make it til the end, like all the other six times?” your voice cracked, and the pain in it shattered his heart into pieces.

“No matter how much I pray, it never ends the way I want it to. So what’s the point when I already know how it’s going to end?”

A single tear slipped down your cheek. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sob threatening to break free.

Wonwoo couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up, his chair scraping against the floor as he moved to sit beside you on the bed. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

You tensed for a moment before finally melting into his embrace, and your fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt.

“Hey,” he mumbled against your hai. “Don’t do that. Don’t think so negatively.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I’m not Wonwoo, I’m being realistic. I’m just so tired.”

His grip tightened. “I know,” he whispered. “I know, baby”

Your body trembled in his hold. “We’ll face this together,” he comforted, leaning back so he could cup your face. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks and wiped away your tears.

“I know you’re scared. I am too. But baby, you’re not alone. I’m right here.”

Your lips quivered. “But I don’t think I can handle losing another one.”

Wonwoo exhaled shakily. “Then we’ll grieve together.” His forehead rested against yours, his eyes filled with nothing but love.

“But for now, let’s hold onto this. Let’s believe in this little life growing inside of you. Please, Y/n.”

You stared at him, his words sinking into your heart. He wasn’t asking you to pretend everything was okay. He wasn’t telling you to ignore your pain.

He was just asking you to try. To hold onto hope — together.

A fresh wave of tears welled up in your eyes, but this time they were softer and less afraid. .

Wonwoo pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Let’s do the scan,” he murmured. You hesitated for only a moment before nodding.

You swallowed hard and your heart pounded against your ribcage as Dr. Jung prepped the machine. This was the moment you were both dreading and anticipating. The moment that would either give you hope or confirm your worst fears.

Wonwoo sat beside you with his firm but gentle grip on your hand. He could feel the slight tremble of your fingers against his own, and he gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“Alright Y/n,” Dr. Jung said softly, offering you a small and encouraging smile. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

Unable to find your voice, you just nodded.

When the cold gel came in contact with your skin, you shivered slightly. As Dr. Jung pressed the ultrasound probe gently against your abdomen, Wonwoo’s eyes never left the screen. He had been here before, sitting in this exact position, staring at a monitor with bated breath. The memories grazed at the back of his mind. The empty sacs, the weak fetal heartbeats that faded too soon, the silence that followed after each loss.

But this time, he prayed it would be different.

The screen flicked in, and for a few agonising seconds, there was nothing but static. Your fingers tightened around Wonwoo’s, and he could feel the cold sweat on your palm.

Then you both saw it. A tiny, fluttering movement on the screen. A rapid, rhythmic pulsing.

A heartbeat.

Dr. Jung’s smile widened as she adjusted the probe to make the image clearer. “There,” she said softly. “There’s your baby.”

Your free hand flew to your mouth as tears instantly welled in your eyes. Wonwoo felt his own vision blur as he stared at the screen, feeling his heart swelling with a mixture of awe, relief, and overwhelming love.

The small blob on the screen was still so tiny, barely distinguishable, but it was there. And it was alive.

“The heartbeat is strong,” Dr. Jung continued as she adjusted the volume so the rapid thumping sound filled the room. “That’s exactly what we want to see at four weeks.”

Your body sagged in relief, and a sob escaped your lips. Wonwoo reached up and wiped away the tear that slipped down your cheek.

“It’s okay my love,” he whispered. “They’re okay.”

Dr. Jung, however, remained focused as she carefully examined the screen. After a moment, she looked at you with the same kind but serious expression she always wore when discussing your condition.

“Now, I know this is wonderful news, but we need to talk about the next steps.”

The shift in her tone made your heart clench, and Wonwoo’s grip on your hand tightened. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Dr. Jung turned the screen slightly and pointed at the position of the embryo. “Y/n, given your history and your uterine abnormality, we’re going to have to take medical intervention to ensure this pregnancy remains viable.”

Your throat felt dry. You always knew that even if you did conceive again, carrying the baby to full term would be an uphill battle. Your uterus was never a safe environment for a growing fetus, and each miscarriage had been a painful reminder of that.

“Your condition,” Dr. Jung continued gently, “makes it difficult for the embryo to implant securely. There’s a risk of inadequate blood supply, which could lead to complications. Right now, everything looks good, but if we don’t act preemptively, the chances of miscarriage increase significantly.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “So…what do we do?”

Dr. Jung sighed softly. “There are a few options, but the best course of action would be a combination of hormonal support, regular monitoring, and possibly a cervical cerclage.”

“A cerclage?” Wonwoo’s brows furrowed.

Dr. Jung nodded. “It’s a procedure where we place a stitch in the cervix to help it stay closed and prevent early labor or miscarriage. Given Y/n’s history, her cervix may not be strong enough to hold the pregnancy as it progresses. We wouldn’t do the procedure just yet, but if we see signs of cervical incompetence in the coming weeks, we’ll need to act quickly.”

The words sent a chill down your spine. You read about cerclages before. They were often a last resort, a desperate attempt to keep the baby inside just a little longer. Some women had success with them, but others had not.

Wonwoo felt you stiffen beside him. He turned to you as his eyes searched for yours. “Hey,” he whispered almost as he tilted his head so you would look at him.

“What are you thinking?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I just…I’m scared. I don’t want to go through another loss Wonwoo” your voice cracked.

“I don’t know if I can do it again.”

His heart ached at the vulnerability in your words. He reached up and cupped your face gently. “I know baby,” he whispered. “I know.”

Dr. Jung gave you both a moment before she continued. “We’ll also start you on progesterone supplements immediately. Progesterone is crucial in the early stages of pregnancy to support the uterine lining and help the embryo implant securely.”

You nodded slowly, trying to process everything.

“In addition,” Dr. Jung continued, “we’ll schedule ultrasounds every week to monitor the baby’s growth and the condition of your uterus. If we notice anything concerning, we’ll adjust the treatment plan accordingly.”

Wonwoo turned back to her. “And if we do everything you’re suggesting…what are the chances?” he asked.

Dr. Jung hesitated. “I won’t lie to you,” she admitted.

“There are still risks. But if we’re diligent, and if Y/n’s body responds well to the treatments, the chances of carrying to term increase significantly.”

It wasn’t the guarantee you hoped for, but it was something. A chance. And right now, that was all you could ask for.

You exhaled and glanced at the screen once more. The tiny spark of life continued to beat steadily. Wonwoo leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“We’re doing this,” he whispered. “Together.”

You turned to him as your lips quivered. “You still want to try?”

“Of course I do. I want this baby. I want our baby.”

He gave you a look that was filled with so much love and devotion that it made your chest tighten. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but this time, they weren’t just from fear. They were from hope.

Dr. Jung smiled as she sensed the shift between you two. “Then let’s get started.”

She reached for the prescription pad as she got ready to outline the plan that could save your baby’s life. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe( this time would be different.

a/n; sorry for the long wait🥹

DOUBLE DUTY

❧ PAIRING; mingyu x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; established relationship, humour, FLUFF, mingyu as a dad of twins, slightly suggestive tones

❧ WORDCOUNT; 5k

𐚁₊⊹

▍FRIDAY, 14 APRIL 2028

[20:35 p.m.]

Finally arriving home after a long and exhausting day, Mingyu kicked off his shoes and let out a deep sigh as he collapsed onto the sofa. “Finally, peace,” he mumbled to himself, stretching his arms over his head.

His moment of relaxation, however, was short-lived as two loud, high-pitched cries echoed through the house, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps coming from upstairs. His eyes shot open before he squeezed them shut again, groaning softly.

“Hey babe,” you greeted as you entered the living room, holding your four-month-old twin boys in your arms. A tired but warm smile spread across your face as you rocked them gently, trying to calm their restless cries.

“Aw, look boys. Daddy’s home,” you cooed, shifting your hold on them slightly.

Mingyu sat up, rubbing his face before extending his arms towards you. “Here, give them to me,” he sighed, knowing his break was officially over.

You hesitated for a moment before handing them over. “I’m sorry. I know you had a long day, but they just won’t stop crying. I’ve tried everything,” you said, looking at him apologetically.

“It’s okay,” Mingyu reassured you, offering a small, tired smile. He took the twins from you with ease and craddled them in his strong arms.

“Seojoon, Kihyun, have you been stressing Mummy out? Hmm?” his voice softened as he gently rocked them.

To your astonishment, the cries came to an abrupt stop. The twins blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes, their tiny fists clinging to his shirt. You let out a small, disbelieving laugh.

“Seriously, how do you even do that?”

Mingyu grinned smugly, bouncing them lightly in his arms. “What can I say? I’m a magic daddy. I can do anything” he puffed out his chest in mock pride, clearly pleased with himself.

You crossed your arms, shaking your head in amusement. “Great, because you’re gonna be taking care of them for two days while I’m in Busan,” you announced, smiling sweetly.

Mingyu’s smile vanished instantly. His head snapped up, his expression one of pure shock. “What?!” he nearly shouted.

“I’m going to Busan with the girls,” you explained calmly, sitting beside him on the sofa.

“I haven’t had a proper hangout with them since I found out I was pregnant. I just…I need some time for myself with my friends, you know?”

Mingyu’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, his eyes darting between you and the babies. “B-But—”

“You’re going to do a great job. I know it,” you interrupted, pressing a quick peck to his lips before he could protest further.

Mingyu exhaled dramatically and slumped back into the sofa while still holding the twins. “You’re really doing this to me, huh?”

“You’ll survive,” you teased, ruffling his hair.

Mingyu looked down at Seojoon and Kihyun, who were now staring up at him expectantly. “You guys better go easy on me, alright?” he muttered, causing you to laugh.

“Okay,” you sighed, standing up and stretching.

“I’m going to take a quick shower. Can you try putting them to sleep? By the time I’m done, I’ll heat up your dinner, okay?”

Mingyu gave a small nod, already bouncing the twins gently in his arms again. “Yeah, yeah, I got this,” he said, though the uncertainty in his voice was evident.

You smiled, watching him for a moment before heading toward the bathroom, leaving him alone with his sons and a newfound sense of responsibility.

As soon as you disappeared from view, Mingyu looked down at the babies again. “Alright, little guys…let’s make a deal. If you both go to sleep quickly, Daddy won’t completely lose his mind, okay?”

The twins only blinked up at him, completely unfazed. Mingyu groaned, already feeling the pressure of the next two days ahead.

“No way is she leaving me alone with these two,” Mingyu muttered to himself as he looked down at his two babies.

He loved his boys more than anything, but the idea of handling both of them on his own for two whole days made his stomach twist. Taking care of one baby alone was already a challenge, but twins? That was a whole different level of chaos. Having you by his side usually made things manageable — one of you could handle the diaper changes while the other soothed the other baby. But now, with you leaving for the weekend, he was about to experience the full force of parenthood alone.

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. The twins were staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes, completely oblivious to his internal panic. “You two better go easy on me,” he mumbled, picking them up carefully. “Or else I might not survive until your mum comes back.”

Balancing work, house chores, and two constantly demanding infants was not something he had mentally prepared for. He had watched you do it almost with ease, and he swore you had some kind of superpower. But he wasn’t sure he had what it took. If the twins decided to have one of their infamous sleepless nights, he’d be doomed.

Mingyu sighed again as he sat down on the sofa, rocking the twins gently in his arms. “Let’s just hope daddy doesn’t burn the house down while he’s at it,” he joked, pressing soft kisses on their tiny foreheads. “And please, don’t give daddy a hard time.”

His voice was soft and soothing, and eventually, the twins’ eyes started drooping. Within minutes, they were fast asleep, curled up peacefully on his chest. The warmth of their little bodies, the steady breathing was comforting. So comforting, in fact, that Mingyu didn’t even realise when his own eyes started fluttering shut.

By the time you arrived home, you found all three of them knocked out on the couch. A smile spread across your lips at the sight. Mingyu, who was so panicked about taking care of them, was now sleeping peacefully with the babies resting on his chest. It was an image of pure love.

You walked over and gently shook his shoulder. “Gyu, babe, wake up.”

Mingyu stirred, and soon his eyes fluttered open to see you standing above him. His gaze shifted to the twins who were still asleep, and then back to you.

“Go freshen up,” you told him, carefully lifting the babies into your arms. “I’ll put these two in bed and heat up your food.”

Mingyu groaned but nodded, stretching as he got up and trudged upstairs for a hot shower.

╴╴╴╴╴

After dinner, the two of you crawled into bed together. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, resting his chin on top of your head. He let out a content sigh as he held the exhaustion of the day settling in.

“What time are you leaving?” he asked, his voice groggy from sleep.

“The train is at six in the morning” you snuggled closer.

Your husband groaned dramatically, tightening his grip around you. “Do you really have to go? Can’t we just drop the twins at my mum’s place and you take me with you instead?”

You chuckled. “It’s just me and the girls, honey. Girls,” you emphasised.

“Don’t leave me alone with the twins, it’s going to be a nightmare” he pouted.

“Stop acting like a child Gyu,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “I’m only going away for two days, not two years.”

“But two days is a long time,” he whined.

“You’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “If you need help, just call your mum.”

Mingyu huffed, clearly not satisfied with your response. “Ugh, you better have something nice planned for me when you come back as a thank you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes again. “Fine.”

“Good.”

He pulled you even closer with a firm but comforting grip. The warmth radiating from his body, the way his fingers traced soothing circles against your back — it was enough to make you feel at home, no matter where you were going the next day.

Even though Mingyu was being dramatic, you knew he would be okay. He loved those boys more than anything in the world, and no matter how exhausted he’d be by the end of the weekend, he would take care of them with all the love in his heart.

▍SATURDAY, 15 APRIL 2028

[04:45 a.m.]

The next morning came quicker than you had hoped. You groggily got out of bed while rubbing your tired eyes as you heard the soft cries of your babies from their cot. Letting out a small sigh, you pushed yourself up and walked over to them, smiling as they looked up at you with their big, innocent eyes. They had no idea that you were leaving for two days, and in a way, you were glad. If they knew, you were sure they’d throw a fit.

You picked them up one by one, balancing them in your arms as you gently rocked them. “Good morning my little angels,” you cooed softly.

They gurgled in response, one of them reaching out to touch your face. You laughed and pressed kisses on both their foreheads before carrying them over to the changing table. After changing their nappies and feeding them, you placed them back in their cot, making sure they were comfortable before heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

Meanwhile, Mingyu was still in bed, snoring softly. You glanced at him and shook your head with a fond smile. He had been so dramatic about you leaving, but here he was, still fast asleep while you were the one up early, taking care of the twins.

By the time you were done getting ready, Mingyu had finally woken up. He stumbled into the bathroom, rubbing his face as he tried to wake himself up. After brushing his teeth and fixing his hair that looked like a bird’s nest, he walked into the room where you were putting on your earrings.

“Alright, I’m ready,” you said, giving yourself one last look in the mirror.

Mingyu wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzled his face into your neck. “I still can’t believe you’re actually leaving me alone with these two little devils,” he whined, placing a soft kiss on your skin.

You gasped dramatically, turning in his arms to face him. “Did you just call my babies devils? Don’t forget they’re your little devils too,” you poked his chest.

Mingyu groaned, resting his forehead against yours. “Mmhmm, I know, but they’re a handful. How am I going to manage without you babe?”

You smirked, pulling away slightly. “You said you’re a ‘magic daddy,’ right? You should be fine,” you teased, playfully rolling your eyes.

He let out a long sigh of defeat, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I just know this is going to be the most exhausting two days of my life.”

You laughed, patting his back. “You’ll live.”

Mingyu buried his face in your neck again, pressing soft kisses along your skin before gently nipping at it. “Can’t wait for you to come back so I can fuck you so har—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you quickly cut him off, pushing him away slightly with a knowing look.

Mingyu pouted but didn’t argue. Instead, you took a deep breath and went into full mom mode. “Listen, I’ve already topped up my breast milk in the feeding bottles. They should last for today, and for tomorrow, just feed them formula. Don’t forget to help them burp before putting them to sleep. Don’t bathe them at once — you know that.”

“And I’ve already prepared food for you, so don’t even think about cooking. I don’t want to come back to a burnt house. If you need help, just call your mum. Got it?”

Mingyu blinked at you, looking like you were speaking an entirely different language. He took a second to process everything before nodding slowly.

“Got it,” he mumbled.

Mingyu wasn’t exactly the worst cook. In fact, he was almost as good as you. He thought you meant it in the sense that you wanted him to avoid going to the kitchen to cook with his brain in shambles.

You smiled, placing your hands on his cheeks. “I know it’s a lot baby, but I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Thank you, and I love you so much.”

Mingyu softened at your words, pulling you into a passionate kiss. “I love you too. Don’t forget to message me when you reach, okay?”

You nodded. “Don’t worry, I will. You just focus on the boys and call your mum if you need help.”

Mingyu sighed, giving you a reluctant nod. You pulled away from him and grabbed your mini suitcase, taking one last look around the room. Walking over to the nursery, you leaned down and kissed both your babies goodbye.

“Aw, I’m going to miss my babies. Don’t bother daddy too much, okay? I love you,” you whispered, pressing one last kiss on their rosy cheeks.

Mingyu stood in the doorway, watching as you reluctantly pulled away. As much as you teased him for being dramatic, you knew you were going to miss them just as much.

And with that, you finally walked out, leaving Mingyu alone in the house with the twins.

╴╴╴╴╴

[07:45 a.m.]

It had been two hours since you left, and the house already felt different without you. Mingyu sat in his office with fingers flying across the keyboard as he tried to concentrate on his work.

The silence in the house was almost eerie, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. The twins were still sleeping in the nursery which gave him a rare moment of peace, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think it would last forever.

Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his face with his hands and let out a deep sigh. “Gosh, I have so much work to do,” he muttered to himself.

He looked at the long list of unfinished tasks on his screen. He was already behind, and now that he was alone with the twins, catching up seemed nearly impossible.

“I hope the twins let me finish this on time,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

Taking up his determination again, he leaned forward and focused on his work. He managed to get a good thirty minutes in before a loud cry broke through the silence.

Mingyu froze.

Another cry followed immediately after, and before he could process what was happening, the nursery erupted into full-blown wails.

“Fuck!” he groaned, already dreading what was coming. He had been hoping — praying even — that they would sleep a little longer. Clearly, he had been too optimistic.

He pushed back his chair and quickly made his way to the nursery. The moment he stepped inside, he found the twins lying in their cot as they both cried their little lungs out. But despite their distress, they were still holding hands with their tiny fingers wrapped around each other’s in a way that made Mingyu’s heart melt.

His first instinct was to take out his phone and snap a picture. “Ah, they’re too cute,” he murmured, smiling softly as he captured the moment. He sent the photo to you with a simple caption: They miss their mummy already.

But before he could admire their cuteness any longer, reality hit him again. “Okay, focus. First of all, why are they crying?” he muttered to himself.

“Are they hungry? Do they need their nappies changed? Are they too hot or too cold?”

He let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. How did you do this every day? He was already overwhelmed, and it had barely been two hours.

He crouched down beside the cot and stuck out his pinky finger, gently caressing their chubby cheeks to see if they were hungry. When neither of them made an attempt to suck on his finger, he sighed in relief.

“Well, they’re definitely not hungry, so that means…” he trailed off before his nose caught a whiff of something absolutely foul.

“Oh no,” he muttered, already dreading what was coming next.

Taking a deep breath, he picked up Seojoon first and carefully placed him on the changing table. The moment he undid the nappy, a strong stench filled the air that made him gag.

“Gosh, baby, how much do you poop?” he whined, his face scrunching up in absolute horror. He grabbed the wet wipes and got to work, doing his best to breathe through his mouth. It took everything in him not to throw up, but he somehow managed to get Seojoon cleaned up and into a fresh nappy.

“Alright, one down, one to go,” he sighed as he wiped sweat from his forehead.

Next was Kihyun. Mingyu looked at his youngest son and narrowed his eyes. “Kihyun-ah, please no surprises, or daddy will be upset,” he warned playfully, though he knew deep down that his warning meant nothing.

And sure enough, the moment he removed Kihyun’s nappy, he was met with the ultimate betrayal. A sudden stream of pee shot up straight at him.

“Oh my god no! My favorite shirt!” he gasped as he looked down at himself in absolute horror. His once-clean shirt was now covered in baby wee.

Kihyun, of course, had no idea what he had just done. He simply kicked his little feet and let out a happy giggle, as if he hadn’t just ruined his father’s entire day.

Mingyu groaned, tossing his head back. “I can’t believe this. Y/n, you are going to have to pay me for this,” he whined to no one in particular.

Still grumbling under his breath, he quickly finished cleaning and dressing Kihyun. Once both boys were finally clean and in fresh clothes, he picked them up, and held one in each arm.

“Let’s get you both dressed and fed, hmm? Daddy really needs to finish his work, please,” he pouted, hoping the twins would magically understand his plea.

He carried them downstairs to the living room and settled them in their baby bouncers before preparing their bottles. After testing the temperature, he carefully fed them one by one, making sure they were drinking enough before burping them just like you had instructed.

Once they were fed and happy, he checked the time and felt his eyes widen in shock.

“Did I really spend almost three hours with these two?!” he panicked, looking between the twins and the clock. He had only planned to take a short break, but somehow, nearly his entire morning was consumed by nappy disasters and baby cuddles.

He let out a deep sigh and looked down at the twins who were now sleeping peacefully in their bouncers. They looked so angelic when they weren’t crying.

Carefully, he picked them up and carried them back to the nursery before tucking them into their cot as quietly as possible. He stood there for a moment and just watched them, feeling his heart swelling with so much love.

Despite all the chaos, he couldn’t deny how much he adored them. He never imagined that being a father would be this exhausting, but at the same time, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

With one last glance at his sleeping babies, he tiptoed out of the nursery and headed back to his office. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before they woke up again, and he needed to get as much work done as possible before the next round of chaos began.

▍MONDAY, 17 APRIL 2028

[13:25 p.m.]

Two days had passed since you left, and Mingyu never felt so drained in his entire life. He always knew that taking care of twins would be challenging, but experiencing it firsthand without you made him realise just how much effort you put into raising them every day while he was mostly at work. He barely got any sleep, his meals consisted of whatever quick snacks he could find, and his workload had only piled up further.

So, the moment his mother stepped through the front door, he wasted no time throwing himself at her and hugging her tightly like a desperate child.

“Mum, can you make me kimchi fried rice?” he asked in exhaustion.

His mother blinked at him, clearly unimpressed. “Is that why you called me?” she asked, raising a brow at her grown son, who was acting like a helpless teenager.

Mingyu nodded eagerly as he looked at her with pleading eyes. “Mumma, please, it took me so long to put the twins to sleep and do my work. Can you just make me food, please?” he pouted, his lower lip jutting out as he attempted to win her over.

His mother let out a deep sigh, shaking her head in disbelief. “My goodness, you’re almost thirty-one, and you still depend on your mother for a simple dish that even a twelve-year-old could make?” she scolded.

“Mumma, please,” he whined dramatically as he dragged out the last syllable for extra effect.

His mother rolled her eyes but relented anyway. “Alright, fine,” she said before making her way towards the kitchen.

Mingyu instantly lit up. “I love you! You’re the best!” he cheered.

“Oh shush, you’ll wake my grandsons up,” his mother snapped, sending him a sharp glare before disappearing into the kitchen.

Mingyu sighed in relief and collapsed onto the couch, stretching his sore limbs. “Ah, finally, I can rest—”

But before he could even finish his sentence, a familiar sound cut through the house.

One loud cry.

Then another.

His entire body tensed.

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a groan. Rubbing his face with his hand, he released a long, exaggerated fake cry of frustration. It was like they had a built-in sensor that activated whenever he dared to relax.

Dragging himself off the couch, Mingyu sluggishly made his way up the stairs to the nursery. When he reached the doorway, he leaned against the frame and stared at his two little boys who were both wailing in unison.

“Seojoon, Kihyun, babies…why do you always cry when Daddy wants to rest, hmm?” he questioned with a whiny voice.

“Do you two have a personal mission to make sure I never get a break?”

Despite his complaints, he walked over. He gently scooped them up wnr cradled one in each arm. The moment they were in his embrace, their cries softened into little sniffles. He sighed, shaking his head as he rocked them in slow, rhythmic motions.

“Good thing Mummy is coming back today, or I’ll go crazy without her,” he murmured with a small chuckle before pressing gentle kisses to their heads.

These past two days felt like two weeks for Mingyu. He did his best to balance work and taking care of the twins, but it was nearly impossible. He barely managed to answer a few emails before one of them needed feeding, burping, or a nappy change. And just when he thought he was getting the hang of it, another curveball would be thrown his way.

The sleepless nights were the worst. He hadn’t gotten a single night of proper rest since you left. Every time he managed to doze off, one of the twins would start crying, waking the other in the process. By the time he soothed them back to sleep, he was wide awake himself, unable to go back to bed before the next round of cries started.

His mother was a great help, but he didn’t want to disturb her too much. She already raised her children, and he didn’t want to burden her with his responsibilities. Still, he had to admit that her presence today was a lifesaver.

As much as he loved being a father, he knew he couldn’t do this alone. He needed you. He missed you.

Glancing down at the twins, he smiled tiredly. “You know, your Mummy is the strongest person I know. I have no idea how she does this every day, and I respect her even more after these past two days,” he whispered.

The twins stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes, their tiny fingers curling around his shirt. Mingyu sighed, feeling his heart swelling with love despite his exhaustion.

“You two are my biggest blessings, you know that?” he murmured softly.

You and Mingyu went through so much to have them. The doctors initially told you that you had a low chance of getting pregnant, and you prepared yourselves for the possibility of never having children. But then, against all odds, you were blessed with not just one but two beautiful baby boys. They were a miracle — your miracles.

And despite all the sleepless nights, the endless diaper changes, and the complete chaos they brought into his life, Mingyu wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Still.

He really, really couldn’t wait for you to come home.

╴╴╴╴╴

After finally putting the twins back to sleep, Mingyu let out a heavy sigh and stretched his sore muscles. He barely managed to sit down when he heard his phone vibrating on the table. Looking at the screen, his heart leaped a little at the sight of your name flashing across it.

Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and answered, not bothering with pleasantries. “Babe, where are you? I’m waiting,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse from tiredness.

A small scoff came from the other end. “Rude. No hello or anything?” you teased.

Mingyu smiled at the sound of your voice. He didn’t care if you were scolding him; just hearing you made the past two days feel a little more bearable.

“Anyways,” you continued, “I’m in the taxi. Just left the airport.”

He leaned back in the chair and exhaled in relief. “Hmm, did you have fun?” he asked, picturing you finally relaxing after your much-needed break.

“So much fun,” you said, though there was a certain longing in your tone. “But I can’t wait to see you and the boys. I missed you three so much.”

Mingyu’s heart warmed. He missed you more than words could express, but he still couldn’t help teasing you. “I missed you too, but you know who misses you more?”

“Who can that be?” you asked curiously.

“My big fat cock—”

“MINGYU!” you whisper-yelled, mortified. “Shut up, the taxi driver can hear you!”

“Let him. I don’t care,” he shrugged nonchalantly, grinning even though you couldn’t see him.

“You are unbelievable,” you huffed, making him chuckle at your embarrassment.

You decided to change the subject before he could embarrass you further. “Anyways, how are the boys doing?”

Mingyu groaned, rubbing his temple. “Don’t even ask. I don’t know where to start.”

You raised a brow. “When you say that, I just know it’s you being overdramatic.”

“But babe, I’m not! Kihyun peed all over me and—”

“See? You’re being overdramatic,” you cut him off.

He let out a dramatic sigh. “You have no idea how much I’ve suffered,” he whined.

You giggled at his misery. “Aw, you worked hard. It’s not easy taking care of two babies at the same time, and I’m proud of you.”

Mingyu smiled at your words, feeling a little better. “I love you,” he said softly.

“I love you too,” you replied just as gently.

As much as you enjoyed your little trip with the girls, a part of you had been longing to be back home. You missed your boys — the three of them.

╴╴╴╴╴

[14:45 p.m.]

An hour later, your taxi finally pulled up in front of your house. The driver kindly helped with your suitcase, and you thanked him before he drove off.

You quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside, but before you could even call out, you were met with a bone-crushing hug. A strong pair of arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the ground, the air nearly knocked out of your lungs.

“Mingyu—!” you gasped, clutching onto him for support.

Your husband buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent as if he was afraid you’d disappear again. “You’re finally home,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion.

You let out a breathy laugh, hugging him just as tightly. “I was only gone for two days, you big baby.”

“Too long,” he mumbled. “I almost didn’t survive.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your hands cupping his face. His eyes were tired, with faint dark circles underneath, but there was so much warmth and love in them. Your heart melted at the sight.

“You poor thing,” you cooed, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “My big, strong husband had a hard time with our little babies?”

“Don’t make fun of me. Those two are a handful” Mingyu pouted.

You giggled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “But you did well.”

“Barely” he sighed dramatically. You rolled your eyes and gave him another quick peck.

“Where are they?” you then asked.

“In the nursery, sleeping,” he said, setting you down gently.

You didn’t waste another second, rushing toward their room. As you quietly pushed the door open, your heart swelled at the sight of your baby boys sleeping peacefully in the cot. You tiptoed closer and ran your fingers lightly over Seojoon’s tiny hand, then pressed a gentle kiss to Kihyun’s forehead. They were warm and smelled like baby powder, and you felt an overwhelming sense of love rush through you.

Mingyu stood in the doorway, watching you with soft eyes. “You missed them, huh?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“So much” you replied, turning to him with a smile.

He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “They missed you too. But not as much as me.”

You laughed quietly. “Of course.”

For a few moments, the two of you stood there as you watched over your sleeping babies in comfortable silence.

“Next time you leave, I’m coming with you” Mingyu whispered suddenly.

“Can’t handle two days alone?” you chuckled.

“Not if it means almost getting peed on twice” he groaned.

You stifled a laugh. “Fine, next time, we all go together.”

“Good” Mingyu hummed in satisfaction, pressing a kiss to your temple.

a/n; so I’m back with my dad mingyu visions…

TOO HURT TO HOLD ON

❧ PAIRING; jeonghan x reader

❧ GENRE; angst

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; ex-lovers, heavy angst (with no happy ending), lovers to strangers, no second chances, mention of deaths, mild violent scene, swearing

❧ WORDCOUNT; 7.2k

𐚁₊⊹

▍7 NOVEMBER 2023

[18:00 p.m.]

As you approached the back entrance of the restaurant, you removed the hood of your hoodie and stood in front of the door. With a deep tired sigh, you pushed the door open and walked inside with heavy steps. Your ears quickly picked up the buzz of the kitchen and the subtle clinking of cutlery in the background. And your nostrils filled up with the smell of freshly prepared dishes.

It was only six in the evening, yet the restaurant was already starting to fill up. But it was nothing out of the norm for you. It was what it was, and you prepared yourself for yet another evening of serving tables.

You made your way to the locker room and began to get yourself ready. “Hey girl” you heard a familiar voice greet you from behind, “hey Yoona” you greeted back as you shoved your bag in your locker.

Despite the worn smile you put on, the exhaustion and puffiness on your face was unmissable. “You good? You look so dead” Yoona asked with a small frown on her face as she walked towards you.

You hummed and gave her a nod, “I’m just really tired” you answered truthfully. Taking off the hair tie from your wrist, you began to tie your hair up in a high ponytail.

“You’re practically here seven days a week on top of your other job, of course you’re going to be tired” Yoona said.

“You need to cut some hours off and give yourself a break Y/n, you know this isn’t good for your health” she added.

“Even if I want to, you know I can’t afford to cut any hours Yoona” you replied, finally turning to face her.

It had been three years since you had dropped out of college. Three years since you had to give up your dreams to repay the mounting debts that your parents left behind before they died in a car crash. Working as a waitress seven days a week for seven hours was your way of managing the financial burden.

Yet, a mere job as a waitress didn’t earn you much. So you had no choice but to push yourself to your limits and take on a second job as a housekeeper at a posh family’s home during the days.

Yoona placed her hands on your shoulders and looked at you worriedly, “then why won’t you just let me help you?” she asked.

You gave a tight smile in response as you lightly shook your head. “I’m grateful that you want to help Yoona, really. But I can’t. I don’t want to burden anyone with my struggles” you told her.

You saw her open her mouth to protest but you quickly stepped back and turned around to grab your apron hanging in your locker. “Come on, we’re going to be late. Don’t want that hag screaming like a maniac like yesterday” you said.

Yoona watched as you tightened your apron around your waist and dust your knee-length black skirt. As you rolled up the sleeves of your white shirt, Yoona let out a deep sigh and followed you behind to the kitchen.

╶╶╶╶╶

[20:45 p.m.]

The evening went on and the rush of customers began intensifying. Amidst the controlled chaos, your boss, Mr. Kim, gestures for your attention. “Table nine needs their order, hurry up” he instructed and motioned the large tray towards you.

Without hesitation, you nodded, quickly picking up the heavy tray of food. Beads of sweat glistened on your forehead as you moved through the maze of tables while carefully balancing the weight of the dishes in your hands.

After serving the customers their order, you headed back to the kitchen with staggering steps. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you went over to pour yourself a glass of water from the tap. You leaned against the wall in the corner of the kitchen and chugged the water in one go. You gasped, placing the cup in the sink, and wiped the sweat off your face and forehead.

You thought you had the grace to spare yourself at least a one minute break to pull yourself together for the remaining four hours of the shift. But the double doors swung open, revealing Mr. Kim, who seemed more excited and nervous than usual.

“There you are!” you heard him as he spotted your standing.

“What happened?” you asked him.

“We have some special guests that just arrived, and I need you to focus on serving them. They’re sitting at table thirteen. Don’t mess anything up, got it?” he looked you dead in the eyes. You mentally rolled your eyes but nodded in agreement. Sighing, you pushed yourself off the wall and stood up straight.

“Alright” you muttered as you dusted your uniform and apron.

“Prepare our signature complimentary champagne and serve it to them, go” he said, lightly pushing you.

You clenched your jaw as you tried to surpass your anger. Nothing infuriated you more than how he would order and push you around like you were his slave, and all you could do was comply like an obedient dog. But what other choice did you have?

You walked out of the kitchen and made your way towards the restaurant’s bar, which stood at the front center. You took out two champagne glasses and began preparing the drink. “This shit tastes so bad, why does he even want to serve it?” you mumbled to yourself irritatingly.

The boy next to you, who was cleaning the empty glasses with a white cloth, chuckled. “Right, no wonder that man is still single. He has such a bad taste in drinks, and sense of style” he said.

You couldn’t hold on your laugh, “tell me about it” you commented as you finished preparing the champagne.

Having said that, you straightened your posture and picked up the small tray of two champagne glasses. You heaved out a tired sigh as you began to make your way towards table thirteen. Seeing that almost every table was occupied by customers, you cursed under your breath. It was going to be a long night, because you knew you were going to have to stay behind past your finishing time to clean up everything.

It was a small distance away from the table when your eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of a familiar face sitting next to a woman. Your breath hitched upon realisation, and your steps became slower. Time seemed to be slowing down and the tray in your hands suddenly felt heavy as you approached the table. You could hear their soft laughter as the woman leaned against his shoulder, gently slapping his chest.

You felt your hands tremble as you arrived at their table. “Good evening, I’m Y/n and I’ll be looking after you guys tonight!” you tried to sound enthusiastic.

However, you maintained a professional demeanor, offering the champagne with a forced smile. The woman’s laughter subsided, replaced by her rolling her eyes as she sat up straight.

“This is on the house” you said as you politely handed the woman her glass.

She hummed and snatched the drink from you, scratching your hand with her long ruby painted nails. You winced and retreated your hand, gazing at the long red cut.

‘Fucking bitch’ you mentally cursed, throwing a hard glare at her while she wasn’t looking.

All while this was happening, you felt a pair of eyes burning holes through your soul. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You didn’t want to. He didn’t deserve a single ounce of attention from you.

Your heart was aching, badly. And every bit of emotion that you had locked away suddenly unleashed. But this was no time and place from personal matters. You were doing your job. You gave him his glass, and took the tray from the table.

“Please let me know when you’re ready to order, or if you need anything” you told them, gently bowing before scurrying off.

As you walked back to the kitchen, Yoona noticed your disturbed form. “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost” she commented, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” you shook your head, “I need to use the restroom” you quickly shifted the topic.

Overwhelmed, you excused yourself to the restroom and locked the cubicle door. You slowly sank to the floor and drew your knees to your chest. Burying your face in your trembling hands, you let out a deep shaky breath. Despite your best efforts to stay composed, your tears came streaming down your cheeks, each drop carrying fragments of the past you had tried to move beyond.

You didn’t expect to encounter him. In fact, you didn’t even want to ever see him again. You tried so hard to shield yourself from the wounds he had inflicted.

Yet, fate had other plans, exposing you to bear the vulnerability you had worked so hard to conceal. You tried so hard to get him out of your mind, like he never existed in your life.

You despised him. You despised every cell of his body. Yet, why did it shatter you seeing a diamond ring on that woman’s finger?

It was like a slap in the face, how quickly and shamelessly he moved on from the young teenage love you both promised each other when you were seventeen. You hated how easy it was for him to forget the seven years you both spent together, like it meant nothing at all.

You cried silently while trying to wipe away your tears, but they kept coming.

Suddenly you heard the cubicle door knock, startling you. “Y/n are you in there?” the voice asked, it was Yoona.

“Y-Yeah! Hold on” you told her, trying to mask your shaky voice. You quickly jumped up to your feet and wiped away your tears, drying your cheeks in the process with the back of your hands.

Closing your eyes and sighing out a breath, you put on a smile and opened the door, revealing a worried Yoona. “Are you okay? You’ve been gone for quite a while” she asked.

But before you could answer, she cut you off. “Were you crying?” she questioned as she cupped your face.

“No I wasn’t” you told her, but your red puffy eyes gave it all away.

“Don’t lie to me now Y/n, please” Yoona begged. The small grin on your face quickly faded, and your shoulders slumped.

“He’s here” you told her, and it didn’t take long for Yoona to understand who you were talking about.

“And?” she raised her brow.

“He’s here with his fiancé, and I’m serving them tonight” you explained. “Could this day get any worse?” you whimpered as you massaged your temples.

“Do you want me to swap with you? I’ll talk to Mr. Kim about it” Yoona offered, but you shook your head.

“It’s fine” you told her, “I guess I have to face him sooner or later no matter how much I try to avoid him” you said.

Yoona still looked worried and unsure, “you’re so strong even after all that had happened to you, you know that right?” she gave you a warm smile.

You hummed, feeling her pull you into a tight comforting hug. You instantly melted in, slowly shutting your eyes. You wrapped your arms around her and silently broke down.

Yoona couldn’t help but feel her heart ache for her best friend. “I know he hurt you, but that bastard doesn’t deserve your tears anymore” she said.

She pulled away and cupped your face, using the pads of her thumbs to wipe away your tears. “Like you always do, keep your head up princess” she said, placing her index finger under your chin and titling your head up.

You let out a light giggle, and together you both walked out of the restroom to continue with your work.

Jeonghan quietly sat there with his gaze fixated on you as you cleaned the table. It had been three years since he last saw you. Seeing you after all these years, he felt a wave of nostalgia hit him, and his heart suddenly felt heavy.

His eyes followed every move you made, noticing your exhausted state as you constantly served customers and balanced trays of food. He couldn’t lie, he felt bad, because he knew. He knew what your situation was, and yet he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Babe, are you listening to me?” he felt a sharp nudge, breaking him out of his daze.

“Huh?” he turned to look at his fiancé who was frowning at him.

“I asked you if you know that waitress. You’ve been staring at her” her repeated, her voice laced with jealousy and irritation.

Jeonghan’s body tensed at her question, because it’s a question she never really asked. And neither was it something he really planned to tell her — until now.

“Yeah, she’s uh…” he began, but struggled, and his fiancé’s intense gaze wasn’t helping either. But Jeonghan knew there was no avoiding this. So ultimately, he gave in.

“She’s my ex-girlfriend” he finally answered and gave her a tight awkward smile. Jeonghan saw the way her face instantly turned sour, and her eyes grew dark. And it made him feel a little uncomfortable.

“How come you never told me?” she asked.

“I didn’t think it was that important” he shrugged.

“Right” was all she said as she took a sip of the champagne. The both of them sat in silence, and Jeonghan didn’t know what else to say to her.

The two looked through the menu as they tried to figure out what to order, but the woman didn’t seem quite impressed. “This place looks cheap. We should have gone somewhere nicer” she muttered.

Jeonghan sighed, “as long as the food is great, I don’t really see any problem” he told her.

The woman rolled her eyes as she ran her tongue across her teeth, “come on Jieun, give it a chance” he smiled at her.

“Fine, whatever you say” she gently smiled back, though it didn’t reach her ears.

“Here, let’s order this dish” he suggested as he pointed to the menu. Jieun nodded and hummed in agreement. She raised her head and stuck her hand up to gain your attention.

You were sweeping up the broken wine glass which a customer accidentally broke when you heard a high pitched voice call for your attention. Your head snapped towards the direction and saw the woman motioning you to come over.

Swiftly finishing sweeping, you wiped your hands with your apron and raced over to the table with a warm smile. “Hi, are you guys ready to order?” you asked her with a soft tone, trying to maintain your friendly and professional attitude.

But for some reason, the woman looked at you distastefully as she scanned you from head to toe. And you stood there awkwardly under her uncomfortable stare.

“Yes we are” she finally spoke up.

“Great, what can I get for you?” you then asked. Retrieving your trusty notepad from the small pocket of your apron, you attentively noted down their order.

Jeonghan, like before, sat in silence. But his eyes never left you, and Jieun didn’t fail to notice it. She saw the way his eyes sparkled with emotions she couldn’t clearly read. But one was sure to be very apparent — longing. She felt her insides boil in an unspeakable amount of jealousy and displeasure.

But for some reason she was more mad at you than him, even though she could tell you paid no attention to him, as if he wasn’t even there.

“The food will be over at your table in approximately fifteen to twenty minutes. If there’s anything you would like me to do while you’re waiting, please do let me know” you smiled at her.

“Yeah, just remind the chef to not add any chillies in my dish. I take my dislike towards spicy food very seriously” Jieun said.

You couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh, sensing the cockiness in her tone which you absolutely hated from filthy rich people like her. “Yes miss, don’t worry I’ll let them know” you forced a smile as you tucked your small notepad in your pocket.

“Good” she faked a smile back. Having said that, you bowed and walked away, your smile instantly dropping.

“Bitch” you muttered under your breath.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, you heard the bell ding from the kitchen, indicating an order was ready. You sped walked towards the little widow and skillfully picked the tray up, balancing it with precision.

As you made your way to table thirteen, you looked down at the tray of food. You frowned slightly as you tried to figure out which dish had chillies and which didn’t, because both looked the same.

“I’m sure they can figure it out themselves, right?” you asked yourself.

Just when you raised your head to look where you were going, you bumped into someone. The mild collision sent ripples through the tray, and a portion of the soup spilled onto the silk fabric.

The woman, adorned in her luxurious emerald attire, shrieked in horror at the dark wet patch on her once-pristine dress. Raising your head to look at her; your eyes and mouth gaped equally in horror.

It was her.

“Ughh! What is wrong with you?! Can’t you see where you’re going?!” Jieun yelled, the air filled with tension as her anger flared.

The lively atmosphere in the restaurant suddenly fell into silence as people turned their heads to look at your direction. Panicked and flustered, you placed the tray of food on the nearby table and quickly grabbed a clean napkin.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to” you apologised as you tried to wipe the soup off the dress.

But she smacked your hand away, “don’t touch me with those filthy hands!” she raged.

You were taken back by her attitude as you stared at her surprised. “Do you know how expensive this dress is? It’s all ruined now because you couldn’t do your damn job properly!” she went on.

You clenched your fists and gritted your teeth, refraining yourself from saying something you might regret later on. So as always, you stood there soaking everything the woman was throwing at you.

“I’m so sorry” you bowed at her ninety degrees, “if there’s anything I could do-“

“I want to speak with your manager, right now” she rudely cut you off with a sharp glare.

Jeonghan on the other hand saw the commotion happening, and when he soon realised that it was you and Jieun, he jumped to his feet and made his way towards the scene. The closer he got the clearer he could hear his fiancé’s angered voice echoing within the restaurant.

Upon arriving at the scene, his eyes slightly enlarged at the visible stain on her emerald green silk dress. His eyes then darted towards you, who stood there tensed and your eyes widened.

“Is everything okay?” he asked Jieun, turning his attention back to her.

“Baby does it look like I’m okay?” she groaned, “look at this mess!” she complained as she looked down at the dark stain.

You knew how strict and serious Mr. Kim was when it comes to his restaurant and giving his customers high level service. But you didn’t want to lose your job over a small accident.

“I-I…” you struggled to speak as you nibbled onto your bottom lip. And to your terrible luck, you heard Mr. Kim approach you two.

“What’s going on? Is there a problem?” he asked. Jeonghan saw the way your body slightly trembled in fear.

Jieun scoffed and folded her arms, “this employee of yours wasn’t looking where she was going and spilled soup all over my dress” she explained, voice laced with discontent.

“Do you know how expensive it is? I’m sure not even your monthly salary would be enough to pay for it” she snarled, turning her head to glare at you.

“Oh my- I’m terribly sorry for her carelessness” you heard Mr.Kim say. You stole a glance at your boss, and you met by his furious pair of eyes.

“Please, how may I compensate for this?” he asked her.

Jieun smirked and looked at you for a moment, “cut this month’s salary off her payroll” she said.

Your face dropped, and just like that, the fear of losing your job dissipated. It wasn’t that you haven’t dealt with such self-centered and rude customers before, but something about this woman just ignited a different kind of anger inside of you.

“Come on Jieun, that’s enough now” Jeonghan cut in as he tugged on her arm.

“No Jeonghan, you don’t understand. This is a two-thousand dollar dress she spilled soup on, and the stain isn’t going to go so easily!” she complained.

And at that point, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You saw Jeonghan open his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“I said I was sorry. Why make such a fuss when I’m sure you have the money to buy a new one, no?” you snapped at her.

“Y/n!” your boss sternly snapped, but you ignored him.

Harshly throwing the napkin on the floor, you took a few steps towards Jieun, whose eyes widened in surprise at your sudden change in attitude. The hushes and whispers throughout the restaurant grew, fuelling the already tensed atmosphere.

“Being rich must be so fun. Living off your daddy’s hard earned money and not having to work a single day of your life. It must be so fun to be rich, especially when you can trample and humiliate those who aren’t on your level, right?” you gave her a mocking smile while your nose flared in anger.

Jieun’s eyes lit up with fury, and Jeonghan stood there taken back by your words. “You-” she was about to go off but you cut her off.

“Yes the soup spilled by accident, but you know what? I’m not sorry at all” you said.

“And if you think for one second that I’m going to let a egocentric bitch like you try to humiliate me and bring me down, you’re wrong honey” you gave her a smug.

You then scanned her dress from top to bottom and scoffed, “all that money but can’t even dress properly” you muttered.

Everyone in the restaurant was left stunned, especially Jeonghan who couldn’t get his wide eyes off you. “And don’t worry Mr.Kim” you then turned to look at your boss, “there’s no need to fire me, I quit anyways” you told him.

Jieun’s face was flushed red from embarrassment and anger, her hands formed into tight fists by her sides.

“How dare you?” she seethed, her voice shaky as she gritted her teeth. You saw how her eyes watered, and you somewhat felt satisfied that your words had struck some nerves.

In the sudden surge of anger, Jieun snatched the wine glass from the nearby table, her grip tightening around the top. In a swift move, and without hesitation, she hurled the scarlet liquid onto your face.

The room erupted with a series of gasps and whispers as the wine splattered on your face, and cascading down onto your white shirt. And before you could react, you felt her hand fly across your cheek, a sharp stinging sensation taking over.

“Jieun!” Jeonghan roughly pulled her back by the arm, but Jieun snatched herself out of his grip and threw the empty glass on the floor, shattering it.

Her eyes never left yours as she watched you wipe off the remnants of the wine, but oddly you didn’t react the way she expected you to. In fact, your face was void of any emotions.

But in reality, you were furious. So furious.

You weren’t going to let her get away with this, and you were sure to give her a taste of her own medicine before you leave for good. You took a step closer to her, your eyes burning holes through hers.

Without a word, your hand formed into a first before you swung it across her face, punching her straight in the jaw.

Jieun screamed in pain as she fell backwards into her fiancé’s arms. The restaurant erupted into louder gasps, their mouths hung open in shock at the sudden retaliation. And Jeonghan was beyond flabbergasted. But knowing you, he knew you weren’t the one to take in such kind of disrespect.

“Don’t ever lay your fucking hands on me, or I’ll break more than just your jaw” you snapped.

With that, you harshly untied your apron and threw it to the ground. Before you turned around to leave, for the first time in three years, Jeonghan saw you look at him. He saw you give him a look he knew all too well, and he didn’t miss the aching sensation in his heart growing stronger. Your eyes were glossy with tears, yet they were firm. You scoffed at him while he pathetically stood there looking at you.

You soon turned around and walked away, purposely bumping your shoulder against Mr.Kim’s on the way. You kicked the door to the locker room open and marched your way to your locker. Grabbing your bag and jacket, you made your way out of this place who never seemed to treat you the way you deserved.

With respect.

Though you weren’t sure what you were going to do next and how you were going to find a well paying job, you knew for a fact that you weren’t going to stay here any longer.

You weren’t going to give up the last but of self respect you had in you. You were a human after all, and disrespect such as that was something you would never tolerate — especially from rich people like her.

▍11 NOVEMBER 2023

[21:05 p.m.]

In the kitchen, you sat alone at the table, bathed in the soft glow of a lone overhead light. The weight of the world seemed to rest heavily on you as you stared intently at a pile of bills spread before you. The worry and anxiety was evident in the lines on your face, deepening with every contemplative sigh that escaped your lips.

You rubbed your temples, momentarily closing your eyes as if searching for an escape from the overwhelming reality.

It had been a few days since that whole incident. Other than the worry of assault charges dropping against you at any time, you were struggling finding another job in the midst of all the bills you were behind paying. You were overwhelmed by everything life was throwing at you, and you couldn’t keep up.

The sound of your shaky breaths echoed in the room as you buried your face in your palms. “What do I do now?” you quietly whimpered, feeling tears prickling in your eyes.

You felt suffocated the longer you stayed in your confined space of your apartment drowning in your stress. You needed some fresh air, a brief escape from reality.

So you rose from your seat and grabbed your apartment keys before making your way to the front door. You slipped on your oversized jacket and trainers before exiting, letting your feet take you wherever.

The late-night stillness and the wintry breeze embraced your petite and tired body as you wrapped your arms around yourself. You walked down the empty streets with the only source of light being the street lamps. You didn’t know where you were going exactly, but you found yourself approaching a nightclub.

Approaching the entrance, you noticed posters clinging to the walls like desperate pleas. Many of them were club advertisements, but then your eyes caught a poster with bold prints.

You peeled off the poster and scanned it. Your eyes widened as you read the hourly rate, it was a beacon of hope in the darkness. It seemed too good to be true, but in that moment, the possibility of a new beginning shimmered before you. Your heart raced as doubts clashed with desperation.

Could this be the lifeline you needed? The neon lights reflected your uncertainty. You didn’t even know what kind of role they were offering, but the temptation of a chance to ease your financial burden was too strong to resist.

However, the illusion shattered abruptly as the entrance door swung open violently. Startled, you snapped your head towards the direction, revealing a group of drunk men who couldn’t seem to stand up straight.

The men, soon noticing your presence, hushed into an ominous silence, smirking like predators sizing up their prey. “Oh look, a pretty lady” one of them said, and your heart plummeted as they began to walk towards you.

Fear crept in you, and with each step they took, you instinctively began to walk backward, a silent plea for distance and escape. “Get away from me” you tried to sound brave but your voice came out as a weak croak.

“You’re too beautiful to let go baby” another said, his voice disgustingly slurred. Continuing to walk backwards, your steps soon came to a halt as your back collided against a tall, firm body.

Soon a familiar warmth and cologne enveloped you, bringing a sense of security that you haven’t felt in years. “Y/n?” you heard.

You turned around, and you were met by a pair of familiar siren eyes. Unlike how he usually dressed, with a navy suit and his hair gelled, he was wearing simple gray sweatpants with a plain black hoodie. His hair was dishevelled and his features looked tired. His brows were furrowed as he stared at you, worried yet confused.

But when his eyes traveled to the group of men behind you, his expression dropped. You saw the way his eyes turned dark and nose flared in anger as he watched the drunken men. He stepped forward and pushed you behind him, shielding you from the hungry monsters.

“Scram, right now” Jeonghan growled at them. The men cursed amongst themselves seeing that their chance of getting to you was ruined, and walked away.

After they left, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding and stepped away from Jeonghan as you awkwardly stood there tucking your hair behind your ear.

Jeonghan turned around to face you, “what are you doing out here so late?” he asked.

And you couldn’t help but feel annoyed, “that’s none of your concern” you told him, and stepped aside to walk away.

But Jeonghan swiftly caught your arm, preventing you from doing so. “Can we talk?” he asked.

But you snatched your arm out of his grip and scoffed, “if this is about what happened at the restaurant and you want me to apologise to your fiancé, then no, because I’m not sorry at all” you told him.

You were about to proceed walking away, but Jeonghan caught you by the arm once again. “It’s not about that, and besides, I’m not blaming you for what you did. I just want to talk Y/n, please” he said, almost as if he was begging.

Again, you harshly pulled your arm out of his hold and turned to face him.

“There’s nothing to talk about Jeonghan, we were over three years ago” you snapped at him.

“What even is there to talk about? You made everything clear the moment you walked out on me when I needed you the most” you said, your eyes beginning to water with tears.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

┃FLASHBACK; 3 YEARS AGO┃

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

“What do you mean you’re breaking up with me Jeonghan?” your voice quivered as you stared at him tearfully.

Jeonghan looked everywhere but at you, running his fingers through his brown locks. His silence and the way he couldn’t look at you in the eyes was killing you.

“Why?” you asked him, your voice cracking as you broke down into silent cries.

“I just can’t, okay? Please don’t make this harder” he finally spoke up.

“What do you mean you can’t?” you questioned him.

Jeonghan sighed and rubbed his face, “my parents are setting me up with a girl they want me to marry in the future” he said. As if he dropped a bomb, your heart plummeted.

“You know they were never happy with us dating and-”

“So you’re just going to give up on us just like that? After everything we’ve been through?” you cut him off. The way he stayed silent, you knew your words struck him.

“My parents died Jeonghan, not even a week ago” you began.

“I lost the two people who loved and raised me despite the hardships we faced. I had to say goodbye to them for the last time yesterday, and you weren’t even there, not even to comfort me” you said, a loud sobbing escaping from you. Jeonghan looked at you with guilt, but didn’t say anything.

“Right, because you were so busy listening to your parents about how much they hate seeing you with me” you scoffed.

“You always say how much you love me, but why is it that you can’t fight against this one thing that wants us apart?” you looked at him.

“They’re my parents Y/n, you know I can never go against them” he responded.

“But why?” your voice grew weakly.

“Have you ever loved me Jeonghan? Or was our relationship some kind of sick experiment until you finally found someone of your own level to settle with?” You questioned him.

“That’s not it Y/n!” he tried to argue.

“Then what is it?!” you raised your voice.

Jeonghan let out a frustrated groan as he pulled onto his hair. “I can’t do this, I need to go” he said and angrily walked past you.

Your eyes followed his movement as he entered the bedroom, and you silently followed behind. You stood outside as you watched him pack his belongings in a large suitcase. The room echoes with the sound of your stifled sobs and Jeonghan didn’t fail to notice you choking up. It tore him, but there was nothing he could do.

As he zipped up the suitcases, his movements felt final, a cold confirmation of the end of your seven year journey. When he slung the bags over his shoulders, his gaze remained fixed forward, a deliberate avoidance of your tearful eyes. The silence between you spoke volumes you couldn’t bear as he made his way to the front door, not uttering a single word.

Just when he placed his hand on the door handle, your words stopped him. “Thank you Jeonghan. Thank you so much for making me realise how much you really loved me. I hope all this you’re doing is worth it” you told him.

Jeonghan turned around and looked at you for the very last time. You were standing with your trembling legs as you held onto the couch for support, and your eyes continued to flood with tears. His heart aches with heaviness looking at your tearful state, a silent acknowledgment of the heartbreak he had caused.

But there was nothing he could say or do, other than hope for the best for you.

So without saying a word, he opened the door and left. And as the door shut, you crumpled onto the floor, crying your eyes out. Everything around you felt emptier than ever.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You made me lose every ounce of respect I had for you that day” you told him, and he stood in front of you with his eyes tearing up.

“You weren’t even there to comfort me when my parents died, or any of the days that followed. Do you know how much it hurts that the person you loved so much couldn’t even make the bare minimum effort to comfort his grieving girlfriend?” you questioned.

“You knew how much my parents’ death affected me and how hurt I was. You knew how much I needed you by my side, your warmth and comfort, yet you broke me even more and left me suffering on my own” you cried, heavy droplets of tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I really am” Jeonghan silently cried, letting his own tears silently flow. He tried to hold your hand but you were quick to snatch it away.

“No you aren’t” you shook your head.

“You knew what you were doing and you still decided to be a coward instead of fighting for us. Forget about me, you couldn’t even fight for yourself” you said, jabbing your index finger on his chest.

The silence that followed was deafening, and Jeonghan just stood there absorbing every word that came out of your mouth. His tears streamed like an endless river, the ache in his heart getting more dull hearing your cries.

“Just go Jeonghan, there’s nothing to talk about. What’s done is done, and we have nothing to do with each other anymore. So just go. Go to your fiancé and leave me alone like you did before” you wiped your tears away and pushed him to the side.

You took your first step to leave but his voice stopped you. “We’re not getting married” he said. You stopped and slowly turned to face him.

“I…I broke off the engagement with her” he continued, and you stared at him blankly.

“And?” you shrugged at him, and he opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out.

You weren’t quite sure what the point was of him telling you this, but you were somewhat glad he knew to not settle for someone like Jieun. But you were also angry at the fact that he had the power to make this choice but not to fight for you.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, grew frustrated at himself for not being able to form any words to try and stop you from walking away. “I just-” he cut himself off and groaned as he harshly pushed back his hair. He walked towards you and looked at you with his teary and pleading eyes.

“I just want to let you know that I love you, I still do” he began.

“You don’t leave someone you love during their darkest days and give up on them instead of fighting for them Jeonghan” you told him.

“I know, I know” he whispered as he shut his eyes briefly, letting his fat tears roll down his cheeks.

“And I’m sorry” he opened his eyes to look at you, “I’m sorry for being a coward, I’m sorry for hurting you” he silently cried.

“You were right, my parents have always wanted to control me, they still do. After I broke up with you, I couldn’t get your words out of my head. And I tried Y/n, I tried to fight us, but they kept using you as my weakness and I was afraid that they were going to hurt you” he said.

You stood silently listening to him, your eyes watering all over again.

“And Jieun, I never thought of her as anything more than just a friend. But that day, I got to see the real side of her. And I would never make the mistake of marrying someone like her” he continued.

And for a moment, he paused and took a deep breath.

“I know my apologies won’t fix anything, but I just want you to know that I have always loved you Y/n, and I’m sorry for not fighting for us hard enough. I’m sorry for everything” his voice grew quieter and weaker at the end.

Jeonghan slowly reached out to hold your hand, and this time you let him. You silently watched as he brought your hand to his lips, gently placing a kiss over knuckles. You felt his hot tears come in contact with your icy cold hands, sending a wave of shiver and ache within you.

“I’m so sorry my love” he whispered, his voice cracking in the midst of his choked sobs. You stood quiet not uttering a word, and let your tears continue cascading down your face.

“I’m not asking you to take me back, because I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I’m just…sorry for hurting you like that” he sniffled.

You carefully withdrew your hand and wiped away your tears, “you’re right, I’m not going to take you back in” you finally broke your silence. Jeonghan felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach, but he knew it was coming, and there was no way around it.

“It just hurts me that there’s nothing left of what we had built for seven years. It hurts that nothing is going to be the way it was. All those memories, the laughter, the tears, all just shattered into pieces” you cried.

“I’m sorry” you heard him keep chanting under his breath.

“I just hope this gives us the closure we needed, and I hope you understand that we can’t be together again. I need time to heal, and to move on” you said.

“Maybe, just maybe, in another universe I will be born into a rich family, so that I could meet your family’s expectations” you let out an airy chuckle.

Jeonghan’s cries became more audible as he failed to hold them back. “I’m sorry Y/n, I’m so sorry” he sobbed.

“I know you are Jeonghan. And I hope this becomes a lesson to you, so that the next woman that walks into your life, you’ll fight for her — no matter how rich or poor she is” you told him.

The breeze got colder as it blew, and you shivered. The silence between you both grew as Jeonghan continued to silently cry out his guilt and regret. He knew that this was it for the both of you. He knew he lost you and it was all his fault.

After calming down, he wiped his eyes dry and looked at you. “I’m not begging you for forgiveness, but I hope one day that you will” he croaked.

“And if not as lovers, I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you when you need me as a friend, always” he continued.

Jeonghan knew about the financial difficulties you were going through, and what you weren’t aware of was that he had anonymously paid off your parents’ debt yesterday. He knew how much you desired going back to university, and the least he could do was to lift off the weight of your worries from your shoulders.

You gave him a smile, a genuine one, “thank you, but I’ll be okay” you said. And with that, you stepped back and gave him one last glance.

“Goodbye Jeonghan” you said before turning around and walking away. Jeonghan stood where he was, like his feet were glued to the ground, and he silently watched as your figure disappeared into the darkness of the night.

His hands instinctively went to his next where his necklace hung, a heart shaped pendant with a small picture of you and him kissing.

“Maybe, just maybe, in another universe we will be happy together with our small family that we have always dreamed of” he mumbled to himself, a lone tear escaping his eye.

a/n; this used to be a jungkook oneshot :P

I kinda have a thing for dad! Mingyu, like I just can’t stop thinking about him with children

OPERATION WONWOO: CALM DOWN MY GIRLFRIEND

❧ PAIRING; wonwoo x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff, humour

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; established relationship, idol wonwoo, tears, humour, fluff, topic of enlistment

❧ WORDCOUNT; 1.1k

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▍5 MARCH 2025

Wonwoo never considered himself as a particularly emotional person. He was rational, practical, and logical. None of which, apparently, applied to you, who was currently curled up in a blanket burrito on his sofa, sobbing like he just told you he was moving to the moon.

He sighed while standing over you with his arms crossed. “Babe, you’re being ridiculous.”

You lifted your head from the blanket pile, eyes red and puffy. “I am not,” you wailed. “You’re leaving me for eighteen months, Wonwoo. That’s, like, a lifetime in relationship years.”

“That’s not how time works.”

“You don’t care about my suffering at all!” you sniffled dramatically.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes and shifted his weight as he continued watching you spiral into despair. “Okay, first of all, I’m not leaving you. I’m literally just going to work. Second, I’m not even doing active duty. I’m doing an alternative service because, in case you forgot, my eyesight is so bad that the government won’t even trust me with a gun and is making me do a desk job instead.”

“Still counts” you hiccupped mid-sob.

“Does it?”

“Yes” you crossed your arms, glaring at him. “You’ll still be gone, and I’ll still be alone, and — oh my God, what if you get super buff and realise you don’t love me anymore?”

Wonwoo blinked. “I’m literally going to be working in an office.”

“So? What if lifting all those papers gives you arm muscles?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “First of all, paper isn’t that heavy. Second, even if I did somehow get buff, I wouldn’t stop loving you.”

You let out a dramatic huff. “How do I know that for sure?”

Wonwoo stared at you for a long moment before answering, “Because if I was going to leave you, it would’ve been when you made me watch that thirty-episode historical drama just so you could cry over it.”

You gasped, clutching your chest like he physically wounded you. “You said you liked it!”

“I lied.”

You let out a strangled noise, then flopped back onto the sofa. “I knew it! I’m already losing you.”

Wonwoo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Babe, I’ll be home every night. The only difference is that I won’t be promoting with the members for a while. That’s it.”

You sniffled again and gripped the blanket tighter. “It’s not just that! I won’t get to see you perform, or travel with your members, or do all the cute idol boyfriend things—”

He raised an eyebrow. “When have I ever done cute idol boyfriend things?”

“Okay, fine, Jeonghan does cute idol boyfriend things. But that’s not the point!” you huffed, sitting up to glare at him.

“The point is, I won’t get to see you in your element. I won’t get to watch you perform on stage, and I won’t get to hear you talk about making music with your members. You love being with them.”

He frowned slightly at that, because — well, you weren’t wrong.

It would be weird not promoting as a Seventeen member, not spending every day surrounded by the usual chaos and comfort of his group. He would miss standing on stage. He would miss the adrenaline of performing, the way the members bickered, the way Carats screamed their names with so much love.

But, at the end of the day, he would still be home.

Wonwoo let out a sigh and sat down beside you, resting a hand on your knee. “I get it. I’ll miss all of that too,” he admitted.

“But it’s not forever. And honestly? I’d rather be at home with you every night than stuck in a training camp running laps at five in the morning.”

“I feel like you’re just saying that to make me feel better” you pouted.

“Maybe. But it’s also true” he smirked.

“You think I’d rather be sweating in a field somewhere when I could be home with you, eating ramen and watching bad dramas?”

You hesitated. “…That does sound better.”

“Exactly.”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. “But what if you change?”

“What do you mean?” your boyfriend frowned.

“What if, after eighteen months, you don’t love me the same way?” your voice was quieter now, and your usual dramatic energy was replaced by something more vulnerable.

His chest ached at the sight of you, and the way you curled into yourself like you were trying to brace for impact.

“Baby,” he murmured, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that” you mumbled, biting your lip.

“Yes, I do,” he said firmly. “You think I’m going to go to work, file some paperwork, and suddenly forget how much I love you?”

“Maybe there’s a really hot co-worker with perfect vision who loves books as much as you do” you shrugged.

Wonwoo gave you deadpan look. “First of all, I can barely see people’s faces without my glasses, so your imaginary rival isn’t even a threat. Second, no one could ever be you.”

“You promise?” you sniffled.

“I swear on my terrible eyesight.” That finally got a small laugh out of you, and Wonwoo felt some of the tension ease from his chest.

“Besides,” he added, smirking. “If anything, you should be more worried about Jeonghan stealing me away while I’m gone.”

Your eyes narrowed. “I knew it. He’s been trying to seduce you for years.”

Wonwoo chuckled, “you have no idea.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and flopped against him. “Fine. I’ll let you go.”

“Oh? You’re giving me permission now?”

“Yes,” you sniffed. “But only if you compensate me properly.”

“And how exactly do I do that?” Wonwoo raised an eyebrow.

You perked up. “A life-sized body pillow with your face on it.”

Wonwoo groaned. “Not this again.”

“You owe me emotional damages” you crossed your arms.

“I’m not getting you a body pillow.”

“Then I’ll just make my own,” you threatened.

Wonwoo sighed, rubbing his temples. “Okay, how would you even do that?”

“Print a giant picture of your face, tape it to a pillow, and boom. DIY boyfriend” you smirked.

“You have issues” he stared at you.

“I have needs” you corrected.

Wonwoo shook his head in defeat. “Fine. I’ll send you so many selfies that you’ll get sick of my face.”

You gasped. “Never.”

“You’re ridiculous” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

“And yet, here you are, cuddling me instead of telling me to stop.”

“Unfortunately” your boyfriend sighed dramatically. You gasped and smacked his chest. “Take that back!”

“Nope” he grinned mischievously.

You huffed, but your arms tightened around him. “Ugh. You’re the worst.”

“And yet, here you are, crying over me leaving.”

“Shut up and let me be sad. And you’re not exactly leaving, remember?” you sniffled.

Wonwoo chuckled, squeezing you gently. “Alright baby. Be as sad as you want.”

a/n; dreading the almost 2 years of Wonwoo drought icbbb

TIARAS AND TUTUS

❧ PAIRING; mingyu x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; established relationship, (girl) dad mingyu, pure fluff, drabble

❧ WORDCOUNT; 1.2k

𐚁₊⊹

▍20 MAY 2029

Mingyu never imagined that at thirty-two years old, he’d find himself standing in a crowded kindergarten classroom wearing a pink tutu and a plastic tiara. Yet here he was, adjusting the waistband of the fluffy skirt while you tried to contain your laughter behind your phone’s camera.

“Gyu, oh my god— I can’t,” you wheezed as you snapped another picture. “You look adorable.”

Mingyu shot you a glare, his face already burning with embarrassment. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. You made me do this.”

“You agreed to this,” you corrected him with a grin.

“For Minji,” he huffed and then looked down at your four-year-old daughter.

Minji, completely unfazed by the ridiculousness of the situation, twirled gracefully in her matching pink tutu. Her tiny crown, slightly crooked on her head, added to her charm as she beamed up at him with excitement. “Daddy, we look like real ballerinas!”

Mingyu sighed, his heart melting despite his efforts to remain composed. “Yes princess, we certainly do.”

The kindergarten was organising a Father’s Day celebration, and for some inexplicable reason — one Mingyu would never comprehend — the teachers had chosen a father-daughter ballet performance as the perfect bonding activity.

When Minji first handed him the invitation, he couldn’t help but laugh, mistaking it for some kind of joke. However, upon looking into her big, eager eyes, he realised that he couldn’t exactly say no.

“Will you dance with me Daddy?” she asked, and denying her request was simply not an option.

He had convinced himself that it wouldn’t be too bad. Perhaps they’d simply wave their arms a bit and call it a day. However, when he arrived at the school and saw a row of frilly pink tutus hanging on the classroom wall, his stomach dropped.

Now, standing in the middle of the classroom with his tutu barely covering his hips, he realised just how deeply he had underestimated the situation.

It wasn’t just him (thankfully) — every father in the room was dressed identically. However, none of them stood out as much as he did.

Mingyu, standing at six feet two inches tall, was easily the tallest person in the room. The other dads were of average height, which made it easy for them to blend into the crowd. However, Mingyu stood out like a giant who had been dropped into a sea of tiny fathers and daughters dressed in tutus.

And now, in just a few minutes, he was going to have to dance on stage. He ran a hand down his face. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“You’ll be fine,” you assured him between giggles. “Just embrace it.”

Mingyu groaned, but before he could express his annoyance further, a small hand grasped his. He peered down to see Minji gazing up at him with big, round eyes.

“Daddy, are you okay?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Of course sweetheart,” he forced a smile.

“But you look nervous,” she frowned.

Mingyu hesitated. He didn’t want to ruin this for her, but the idea of being the tallest, most awkward ballerina on stage was making his stomach twist in knots.

Minji suddenly took both of his hands in hers. “Daddy, you don’t have to be scared. You’re the best dancer ever!”

Mingyu snorted. “I don’t know about that princess.”

“Yes, you are!” she insisted. “And even if you mess up, it’s okay because we’re doing it together!”

Mingyu’s heart fluttered in awe. How was it possible for such a small human to be so wise? He crouched down, meeting her gaze. “You really think so?”

Minji nodded firmly. “Uh-huh! And also, if you dance funny, Mummy said she’ll love you even more.”

From behind them, you burst into laughter. Mingyu groaned in annoyance but couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Of course she did.”

Just then, the teacher clapped her hands to gain everyone’s attention. “Alright daddies and daughters! It’s time to line up for our performance. Remember, the main objective is to have fun, so don’t worry about being perfect!”

Mingyu took a deep breath and stood up, allowing Minji to drag him towards the stage. The other fathers shuffled nervously beside him, some adjusting their tiaras, while others looked around as if they’re searching for an escape route.

The curtains were drawn back, revealing a small stage decorated with pastel pink and white ribbons. The audience, predominantly mothers, younger siblings, and teachers, watched with amused expressions while holding cameras to capture the moment.

The lights dimmed slightly as soft, whimsical music started to play. Mingyu swallowed hard as he followed the simple steps they had learned during their brief rehearsal. The movements were basic — twirling, raising arms in an arch, and a little plié — but somehow, performing them in front of an audience while wearing a tutu made it ten times more challenging.

He spotted you in the crowd with your phone raised as you documented every embarrassing moment of your husband as well as your daughter’s. He was certain that he was going to hear about this for years.

But then, he looked down at Minji, whose face was radiant with nothing but joy. She giggled as she twirled beside him, holding his hand so tightly that it seemed to anchor him. She wasn’t embarrassed. She wasn’t worried about how silly they looked. All she felt was happiness.

And suddenly, Mingyu no longer cared.

So what if he was a six-foot-two man in a tutu? So what if he looked absolutely ridiculous? His daughter was happy, and that was all that mattered.

His movements became more fluid and confident. He gracefully lifted his arms, exaggerating his spins just to hear Minji’s laughter. When he noticed another dad struggling to keep the rhythm, he gave him a reassuring nod. Because they were all in this together.

By the end of the performance, Mingyu spun Minji in the air one final time, earning loud cheers and claps from the audience. The teacher applauded in response, and the little girls all curtsied, while the fathers bowed (some more dramatically than others).

As they walked offstage, Minji beamed up at him. “See? You are the best dancer ever Daddy!”

Mingyu smiled and bent down to kiss her tiny forehead. “Only because I had the best partner.”

You approached them with your grin still plastered on your face as you held up your phone. “I managed to capture the entire thing, and I’m sending it to Wonwoo and the others.”

Mingyu groaned. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Nope,” you smirked.

Your husband sighed dramatically, but when Minji hugged him tightly, all his embarrassment vanished. After all, nothing was more important than making his little girl smile.

╴╴╴╴╴

Later that night, after putting Minji to sleep, Mingyu sat on the sofa scrolling through his phone. When a notification suddenly appeared on the screen.

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▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Mingyu let out a groan and tossed his phone onto the soft. You, seated beside him with a smug grin, rested your head on his shoulder. “So…do you regret it?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No,” he admitted. “But I’m banning you from using your phone during school events.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I can’t make any promises.”

And despite his embarrassment, Mingyu couldn’t help but smile. Because at the end of the day, he would wear a thousand tutus if it meant making Minji happy.

SEVENTEEN AS GIRL DADS

❧ PAIRING; ot13 x reader

❧ GENRE; fluff, very light angst

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; tooth rotting fluff, sprinkle of angst in some parts, some dramatic situations but fluffy ending, established relationship, first time parents

𐚁₊⊹

SEUNGCHEOL

Seungcheol was sitting at his desk leaned over his laptop as his fingers quickly moved across the keyboard. His brows were knotted in concentration as his eyes were fixed intently on the screen. With the deadline approaching, he was committed to completing this document before the end of the evening.

Then suddenly the door to his study room bursted open, slamming against the wall. Before he could react, a small figure rushed inside with her tiny feet pounding against the wooden floor. His five-year-old daughter, Haeun, ran straight towards him crying out loud with her red and tear-streaked face.

Hot on her heels was you, looking frustrated and exhausted. “Haeun, come back here!” you called as you stepped into the room.

But Haeun didn’t stop. She launched herself onto her father’s lap and buried her face into his chest. Her little body trembled as she cried.

Seungcheol’s heart clenched. He immediately forgot about his laptop, the document, and the upcoming deadline. Nothing mattered more than his daughter’s distress. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“Shh, princess. What’s wrong?” he asked gently, tilting his head to look down at her.

“Mummy said…I c-can’t have…ice cream before dinner!” she managed to get out through hiccups and sniffles.

Seungcheol barely suppressed a smile. He glanced up at you, who crossed your arms and let out a tired sigh.

“She threw a tantrum when I said no,” you explained, shaking your head. “Then ran straight to you for backup.”

Your husband exhaled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your daughter’s head. It was a small thing, really, but to a five-year-old, it was the end of the world.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured, gently pulling Haeun back so he could look into her teary eyes. “I know you really want ice cream, but Mummy’s right. If you eat it now, you won’t be hungry for dinner. And you need a good meal first, don’t you?”

Haeun sniffled as her lips quivered. “But…but I really wanted it…”

“I know, princess” he said as he wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “How about this? If you eat all your dinner, we’ll have ice cream together afterward. Does that sound like a deal?”

Haeun hesitated, her big brown eyes searching his. Then, after a moment, she nodded slowly. “Okay…”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I said the same thing, and she threw a fit.”

Seungcheol rinned. “Dad privilege.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Fine. But only if she eats her vegetables.”

Haeun pouted but nodded again. “Okay Mummy.”

Seungcheol lifted her off his lap and set her on the floor. “Now, go wash your face, and we’ll have dinner soon.” Haeun gave him a quick hug before trotting off.

You sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “I swear, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Seungcheol chuckled as he turned back to his laptop. “Yeah…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

JEONGHAN

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon when your six-year-old, Jiwoo, looked up from her colouring book and studied her father’s long, smooth hair. Jeonghan was sitting on the sofa reading a book as his dark brown locks brushed over his shoulders effortlessly. You often teased him about how unfair it was that his hair looked better than yours with minimum maintenance.

Jiwoo tapped her chin thoughtfully, and an idea formed in her head. She set her crayons down and hopped off the sofa, marching over to her father.

“Daddy?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head.

Jeonghan looked up from his book. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Can I braid your hair?”

“Braid my hair?” he blinked.

Jiwoo nodded eagerly. “Please! Your hair is so pretty, and I want to make it even prettier!”

Jeonghan chuckled and set his book aside. “Well, how can I say no to that? Alright, let’s do it.”

Jiwoo clapped her hands in excitement and grabbed his wrist, leading him toward her bedroom. “You have to sit on my bed! And you can’t move, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, grinning as he obediently sat on the small pink bed which his legs barely fitted.

“Wait here!” she instructed before running over to her little play hairdressing station in the corner of her room. She rummaged through her plastic vanity and began gathering her toy hairbrush, colourful clips, and a few ribbons she saved from old presents.

Jeonghan patiently sat with hands resting on his lap as his daughter returned with her arms full of supplies. She placed everything on the bed beside him, then climbed up behind him and ran her tiny fingers through his hair.

“Wow Daddy. Your hair is so smooth! Mummy always says she’s jealous,” Jiwoo said, giggling.

“She does, doesn’t she?” Jeonghan smirked.

From the doorway, you leaned against the frame with your arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile. “Don’t get too proud Yoon Jeonghan. I let you have the better hair,” you teased.

“Of course dear” your husband chuckled.

Jiwoo, who was completely focused on her work, began brushing his hair with exaggerated care. “You have to be very still Daddy! I don’t want to mess up.”

Jeonghan straightened up his posture. “Not moving an inch,” he promised.

She nodded in approval and got to work. She hummed softly as she created a long, wobbly braid, occasionally stopping to add a colourful clip here and there.

You on the other hand covered your mouth to stifle a laugh as your daughter sprinkled in pink and purple ribbons, tying them into small bows at random spots.

After several minutes, Jiwoo finally clapped her hands. “All done!” She reached for a small mirror from her vanity and handed it to her father. “Look Daddy!”

Jeonghan held up the mirror and burst out laughing. His hair was an absolute masterpiece of uneven braids, mismatched ribbons, and bright butterfly clips.

“Well?” Jiwoo asked eagerly.

“I love it! Thank you sweetheart” Jeonghan smiled warmly.

JOSHUA

Joshua had been through his fair share of tantrums. Having a toddler meant that outbursts were a normal part of life. But today’s meltdown? This was on a whole new level.

He held Byul in his arms as she screamed, her little face red and wet with tears. The two-year-old kicked and squirmed as she tried to escape his grip. Her loud wails were practically echoing through the entire grocery store. It was the kind of tantrum that made people stop and stare. The kind that turned heads and made strangers mutter under their breath.

You on the other hand walked a few steps ahead, pushing the shopping trolley. Your face was carefully neutral, but Joshua could tell that the stares you were getting were bothering you. You exhaled softly and glanced at him. “She’s really going for it today,” you murmured.

“Oh, you think?” Joshua muttered, adjusting his grip as Byul twisted again, nearly knocking his baseball cap off. “She wanted the chocolate chip cookies, I said no, and now we’re here.”

You sighed while grabbing a box of cereal from the shelf. “People are staring.”

Joshua didn’t need to look around to know that was true. He could feel the eyes on him — annoyed glances from shoppers who just wanted to get through their day without a screaming child in the background. An older woman shook her head disapprovingly as she passed by, and a man near the dairy section shot Joshua a look that practically said, ‘Control your kid’.

Joshua tightened his hold on Byul as he bounced her slightly. “Bubba, please,” he whispered, brushing damp curls away from her flushed face. “I know you’re upset, but we can’t get cookies right now. We’ll have a snack when we get home, okay?”

But Byul wasn’t having it. She threw her head back and let out another ear-piercing wail. Joshua felt the frustration slowly creeping in. He was usually good at keeping his cool, but this was exhausting. He looked at you helplessly. “Any ideas?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, then reached into the trolley. You pulled out a bag of baby carrots and waved it in front of your daughter’s face. “Byul, look. Want some carrots?”

Byul, still sniffling, peeked at the bag and immediately shoved it away with a furious, “NO!”

You shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

Joshua sighed. He was sweaty, tired, and feeling the pressure of every judgmental stare that was coming his way. But then, an idea struck him. He didn’t know if it would work, but it was worth trying.

He turned Byul around in his arms so they were face to face. “Bubba,” he said in a softer, playful tone, “can you take a deep breath with Daddy?”

Byul, still hiccupping from crying, shook her head stubbornly.

Joshua exaggerated a deep breath, making it loud and dramatic. “Biiiiig breath in—” he puffed out his cheeks, “—and whoooooosh, out!” he blew air gently on her face.

Byul blinked. She was still upset, but something about his silly breathing caught her attention. And so he did it again. “Whoooosh!”

Byul let out a tiny giggle between sniffles. “One more?” Joshua grinned. She hesitated, then copied him, taking a tiny, shuddering breath in and blowing out.

The screaming stopped, and both of you were relieved. “You’re a wizard” you smiled, shaking your head.

Joshua chuckled, “nah. Just a dad.”

JUNHUI

Junhui adjusted the straps of his backpack while holding his three-year-old’s hand. Mei clutched her stuffed bunny tightly as her eyes darted around the unfamiliar space. It was her first time on an airplane. More importantly, it was her first trip to China to meet Junhui’s side of the family for the Spring Festival.

“Are you excited to see Grandma and Grandpa?” Junhui asked as he crouched to her level.

Mei nodded hesitantly, and then looked up at you who smiled reassuringly. “It’ll be fun, sweetheart. And we get to fly in a big airplane!”

Mei didn’t look so sure about that part.

After checking in and going through security, you finally boarded the plane. Mei sat in the middle, with you by the window and Junhui by the aisle seat.

She fidgeted in her seat with her small legs dangling above the floor. Her nervous energy was apparent as she looked around to take in her unfamiliar surroundings.

Junhui then helped Mei put in her small earplugs, hoping they would soften the unfamiliar sounds. “These will make it nice and quiet,” he promised as he tucked a blanket around her lap.

When the flight attendants finished their safety announcements, the plane rumbled to life.

Despite the earplugs, the deep growl of the engines startled her. She flinched, eyes widening as she looked around in panic. Junhui reached for her hand. “It’s okay darling. That’s just the plane getting ready.”

But Mei didn’t look convinced.

The aircraft began rolling toward the runway, and the motion made her grip her bunny even tighter. Then the speed picked up — faster, faster — until suddenly, the nose lifted, and you were taking off.

The three-year-old felt her heart drop at the unfamiliar motion, and soon panic set in. She let out a whimper as her face scrunched up. Tears welled up in her eyes, and then — she bursted into sobs.

Junhui’s heart clenched. He hated seeing her scared. Ignoring the glances from other passengers, he unbuckled his seatbelt just enough to lean closer.

“Mei, it’s okay,” he said gently while rubbing her back. “Daddy’s right here.”

“I don’t like it!” she wailed as her little hands gripped your shirt tightly. “I want to go home!”

You pressed a kiss to her head. “Shh, baby, we’re safe. The plane is just going up in the sky, like a bird.”

Mei sniffled but still whimpered. Her tiny body trembled as she cried while gripping her bunny like a lifeline.

Junhui hated seeing her in distress. So he thought for a moment, then reached into his backpack and pulled out a small red envelope. “Hey, Mei, look what I have.”

Her sobs slowed just enough for her to look at it.

“This is a hóngbāo from Grandpa,” he said, opening it just enough to show the shiny coin inside. “He sent it early for you. And guess what? He can’t wait to give you more when we get there.”

Mei sniffled, eyes still watery but now distracted.

You wiped your daughter’s tears gently. “And when we land, we’ll see Grandma and Grandpa, and there will be lanterns, fireworks, and lots of yummy dumplings.”

Mei hesitated, then clutched the red envelope along with her bunny. “Dumplings?”

“Lots of them” Junhui grinned.

The plane soon steadied in the air, and the worst of the takeoff behind was now over. Mei’s sobs faded into sniffles as she leaned sleepily against her father’s arm.

Maybe this trip wouldn’t be so scary after all.

SOONYOUNG

The music stopped. The cheers faded. And the winner was announced.

But it wasn’t him.

Soonyoung sat backstage, slumped against the wall with his arms resting on his knees and his head hanging low. Sweat dripped from his tired face, while his tank top was soaked through from the hours of dancing under the bright stage lights.

His chest ached, but not from exhaustion. This pain ran deeper. Months of practice, of pushing his body to the limit, of dreaming of victory…all for nothing.

He clenched his fists, his breathing shaky. He told himself it wouldn’t matter if he lost, and that the experience alone was enough. But now, sitting here alone in the dim backstage area while the winner celebrated, he felt like a failure.

A choked sob escaped his lips. He buried his face in his hands, and his body trembled as tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

“Daddy?”

Soonyoung felt his breath hitch. He looked up with his tear-blurred vision.

There he saw his five-year-old daughter, Arin, standing a few steps away with her small hands clutching the hem of her pink dress. Her big brown eyes were filled with worry. Behind her stood you with a sad smile as you let your daughter go ahead.

Arin took a cautious step forward. “Daddy…are you sad?” she asked.

Soonyoung swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to find his voice. “Yes baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Daddy lost.”

Arin frowned, then quietly sat in front of him, folding her legs. She reached out her tiny hands and placed them gently over his own. “It’s okay Daddy.”

Soonyoung let out a shaky breath as fresh tears spilled over. He tried to hold it together, but with his little girl sitting there, looking at him with so much love and concern, the dam broke. He sobbed openly and pulled her into his arms.

Arin wrapped her small arms around his neck, patting his back the way he always did when she cried. “Don’t be sad Daddy,” she said softly. “You’re still the best dancer in the world.”

Soonyoung’s shoulders shook as he held her tighter. “Oh, baby…”

Arin pulled back slightly and cupped his tear-streaked cheeks in her tiny hands. “You dance so cool Daddy. Even cooler than the people on TV!”

You knelt beside them and rubbed your husband’s back. “She’s right, you know,” you murmured. “You worked so hard, and no trophy can change that.”

Soonyoung let out a weak chuckle through his tears, and looked into his daughter’s hopeful eyes. He wiped his face and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, my baby.”

“Can we dance when we get home?” Arin grinned.

Soonyoung exhaled, and a genuine smile finally broke through his sadness. He nodded. “Yeah. We can dance as much as you want.”

And at that moment, the loss didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Because to his little girl, he would always be a champion.

WONWOO

Wonwoo loved the beach in theory. The soft sand beneath his feet, the salty breeze that tousled his hair, the crashing of the waves — it was beautiful, and peaceful. But the ocean itself? That was different. Ever since he was a child, he had feared the water. A near-drowning incident during his childhood left a scar in his mind, one that never fully faded.

Still, he wouldn’t let his past keep him from making memories with his family. You were laying out your small picnic on a checkered blanket while humming a tune as you arranged the sandwiches and fruit.

Your five-year-old daughter, Yoonji, was giggling as she played near the shore with her bright pink floaty bobbing in the gentle waves. Wonwoo was distracted by your laughter and the task at hand that he unintentionally forgot to keep a close eye on Yoonji.

When the food was ready, he stood and dusted the sand off his hands. “Yoonie! Come eat!” he called, but there was no response. His heart began to race as he turned around, scanning the shoreline.

Then he heard the screaming.

His head snapped toward the water, and his heart nearly stopped. A small figure thrashed in the waves, the familiar floaty drifting farther away from her.

Yoonji.

A terrified scream tore from your throat as you ran towards the sea, but Wonwoo was faster. His body moved before his mind could catch up. Fear gripped at him as he approached the sea. He felt his past fear creeping in, but nothing mattered more than his daughter.

“I’m coming baby!” he frantically exclaimed as he charged into the waves.

The shock of the cold water sent his heart racing as he dove into the sea. For a brief second, the old memories surged back. But then he saw Yoonji’s tiny arms struggling against the waves with her mouth opening and closing as she tried to stay afloat.

His fear vanished. All that remained was the desperate need to reach for his child.

His strokes were fast and uneven, but determined regardless. The salty water splashed into his face and burned his eyes, but he pushed forward. He had to.

Finally, his fingers brushed against Yoonji’s trembling form. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his bare chest.

“I got you, baby. Daddy got you” his voice broke, but his grip was firm.

Yoonji held onto her father as she sobbed against his shoulder. He could feel her tiny body shaking. With every ounce of strength he had left, he swam back. His muscles burned, but he refused to stop.

At last, his feet found the sand. He stumbled but held tight to his daughter. “You’re okay, baby. Daddy is here” his breath was ragged as he carried her onto the shore.

You rushed towards them with tears streaming down your face. You wrapped Yoonji in your arms and pressed frantic kisses to her wet hair.

Wonwoo collapsed onto his knees beside you from exhaustion. But guilt soon overwhelmed him.

He took his eyes off her. He let this happen.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered with a hoarse voice.

“You saved her” you reassured him.

Yoonji sniffled as her small hands clutched his arm. “I was scared.” Wonwoo swallowed hard and pulled her close. “Me too baby.”

As he sat there, holding his daughter in his arms, he realised something. He feared the ocean all his life, but nothing had ever terrified him more than the thought of losing his daughter.

JIHOON

Jihoon sat hunched over his keyboard with headphones covering his ears. He was working on a track for another but k-pop group amongst his long list of requests. He adjusted the bassline and nodded slightly as he felt the groove settle in. He was close, but not quite there yet.

A sudden knock on the door pulled Jihoon from his focus. He barely had time to react before the door opened, revealing two of his favorite people in the world.

“Daddy!”

A high-pitched squeal filled the room as his six-year-old daughter, Nari, dashed towards him with her small feet pattering against the floor. Jihoon turned in his chair and pulled off his glasses as a wide smile stretched across his tired face.

“Come here my princess,” he said, spreading his arms wide.

He chuckled as Nari wasted no time leaping onto his lap and wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. He felt the warmth of her hug melt away the heavy exhaustion of the day.

“I missed you Daddy,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

Jihoon pouted in guilt. He had been working late for weeks now, buried in projects and fine-tuning beats until the early hours of the morning. He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the familiar scent of strawberries from her shampoo.

“I’m sorry princess. Daddy’s been really busy.”

You walked in with a soft smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss on your husband’s lips. “You should take a break love,” you whispered.

Jihoon exhaled. He knew you were right. But before he could argue, Nari gasped and wiggled out of his grasp. “Daddy! Can I play the piano?” she asked with her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Jihoon chuckled. “Of course princess. Show me what you got.”

Nari scrambled off his lap and ran to the sleek black piano sitting in the corner of the studio. You and Jihoon followed, taking a seat beside your daughter as she placed her small fingers on the keys.

With absolute focus, Nari pressed the keys one by one as she attempted to play a tune she heard him compose before. The notes weren’t perfect — some were offbeat, others hesitant — but she was determined. Jihoon exchanged a knowing glance with you before both bursted into soft giggles at your daughter’s intense concentration.

“You almost got it baby,” Jihoon encouraged and guided her tiny fingers to the right keys.

She pouted slightly, frustrated with herself, but tried again. And again. Jihoon’s heart swelled with pride. He loved that she shared his passion for music, even if right now, it was just for fun.

After a while, Nari suddenly turned to him with her best pleading expression. “Daddy, can we go home now? Let’s have s’mores and watch a movie together! Please?”

Jihoon hesitated and glanced back at his computer screen. He had so much work left to do. The deadline aside, Jihoon was a perfectionist. It was why he spent so much extra time in the studio to make sure the tracks he produced were top quality.

But then he looked at his daughter’s hopeful eyes as her small hands tugged at his sleeve.

Work could wait.

Jihoon sighed, then grinned as he scooped Nari into his arms. “Alright, alright. You win princess.”

Nari cheered in victory, and you laughed shaking your head.

As you all left the studio together, Jihoon knew he had made the right choice. Music was his passion, but his family was his heart. And in the end, no melody in the world could ever compare to the sound of his daughter’s laughter.

SEOKMIN

The park was quiet, save for the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. You and Seokmin walked along the park path with your fingers intertwined as you rested your head on his shoulder. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments he wished could last forever.

Ahead of you was your four-year-old daughter, Hana, skipping happily with an oversized ice cream cone in her small hands. She was talking a mile a minute about her day at kindergarten, barely pausing for breath between licks.

“And then, Miss Kim said my drawing was really pretty, and I got a gold star!” Hana announced proudly.

“That’s amazing sweetie. What did you draw?” you smiled.

“A rainbow! With a unicorn! And sparkles!” your daughter exclaimed, turning slightly to flash you both a wide, toothy grin.

“Sounds like a masterpiece” Seokmin laughed.

Hana nodded eagerly and took another bite of her ice cream. Everything felt perfect. The quietness in the park, the warmth of your body against his, your daughter’s innocent laughter — it was a moment he’d tuck away in his heart forever.

But then, in an instant, that peace was ruined.

A man, walking briskly and not paying attention, carelessly bumped into Hana. The impact sent her tiny body stumbling backward. She landed hard on the pavement while her ice cream slipped from her grasp and splattering across the ground.

There was silence for a second before a wail cut through the air.

Seokmin’s stomach dropped as he sprinted forward and dropped to his knees beside Hana. She was holding onto her arm with tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

“Hey, Daddy got you, hmm? Are you okay? Let’s check your arm” his voice was gentle, but his hands trembled as he checked her over.

“My arm hurts,” she whimpered as her little body shook. “And my ice cream is gone…”

You knelt beside them and quickly examined Hana’s arm. “I don’t think it’s broken, just a little bruised,” you reassured as you brushed her hair from her face. “You’re so brave sweetheart.”

Seokmin’s jaw clenched as he turned to the man who had knocked into her. The guy — dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans — barely stopped. He looked back briefly but made no move to apologise or help.

And something in Seokmin snapped.He stood up abruptly with his body rigid with anger. “Hey!” he barked with a sharp voice.

The man hesitated, but then scoffed. “Wasn’t my fault, the kid wasn’t watching where she was going.”

Seokmin took a step forward, his fists clenching. “You knocked over my daughter, and that’s all you have to say?”

You, who was still crouched by Hana, snapped your head up. “Seokmin…” you called out to him.

But Seokmin was already stepping closer. He had never been the type to pick fights, but seeing Hana cry and the indifference on this guy’s face — he couldn’t just let it slide.

“You need to apologise,” he growled as his fists itched to do more than just demand words.

The man scoffed again. “Whatever,” he muttered before turning to walk away.

Seokmin took another step forward, but suddenly, a small voice stopped him.

“Daddy?”

He turned back and his eyes met Hana’s teary ones. She wasn’t scared of the man — she was scared of him. He shut his eyes and exhaled a deep breath before fluttering them open again.

He walked back over to her and crouched down to her level. He cupped her cheeks and wiped away her tears. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.”

Hana sniffled again and looked at her fallen ice cream. “But…my treat…”

“Then let’s go get you another one. How about two scoops this time?” you said.

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

You hummed and then turned to your husband, touching his arm gently. “Come on love. She needs you more than he deserves your anger.”

Seokmin took a deep breath, forcing himself to let it go. With one last glare at the man’s retreating figure, he lifted Hana into his arms.

Hana immediately wrapped her arms around her father’s neck and snuggled into him. As you walked back toward the ice cream stand, Seokmin kissed the top of his daughter’s head, holding her close. Some fights weren’t worth it — but protecting his family always would be.

MINGYU

Mingyu stepped out of the shower feeling his body aching from an exhausting day at work. The warm water had helped ease some of the tension in his muscles, but the fatigue was still there weighing heavily upon him. He ran a towel through his damp hair and sighed as he prepared himself for what he hoped would be a quiet evening.

Then he heard it — a sharp, piercing wail resonating through the house. Aera’s cry — tiny yet somehow powerful enough to make his heart stop.

Mingyu didn’t think twice. He dropped the towel and hurried toward the nursery. The moment he stepped inside, he saw you sitting in the nursing chair cradling your newborn daughter against your chest. You looked exhausted, and your eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said over the frantic cries. “She won’t latch…she won’t stop crying…”

Mingyu’s heart ached at the sight of your struggling. He knew how much you wanted to breastfeed, and how much pressure you put on yourself to make it work. But your daughter, barely two weeks old, was inconsolable as her tiny fists flailed, refusing to settle.

Without hesitation, he moved towards. “Let me take her.”

You hesitated, but your shoulders slumped in relief as you gently passed Aera to him. The moment she was in his arms, Mingyu was struck again by just how tiny she was. At six feet-two inches tall, his arms broad and strong, she fit against him like a fragile doll, so impossibly small and delicate.

“Shh, baby girl,” he whispered to her as he held her close. “Daddy’s got you.” his voice was softer than it had ever been.

Her cries didn’t stop immediately. They were still loud, her tiny face scrunched in distress, but Mingyu remained calm. He placed her upright against his bare chest, one large hand supporting her fragile back while the other cradled the back of her head. He began to rock her gently as he paced across the nursery.

The frantic hysteria in her voice soon quieted just a little, turning into tiny whimpers as her small body slowly relaxed against him. Mingyu pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the faint scent of baby lotion.

You watched from the chair as tears rolled down your cheeks — not just from exhaustion, but from relief.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you whispered.

Mingyu turned to you while still rocking Aera. “You’re not doing anything wrong love.”

Your lip quivered. “She wouldn’t stop crying…she wouldn’t eat…”

Mingyu walked back over and crouched down so you could see your daughter’s peaceful face as she nuzzled into his chest. “She just needed a minute to feel safe. And she will eat, when she’s ready.”

You exhaled shakily and nodded as you wiped away your tears. Mingyu leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. “You’re doing an amazing job,” he assured you. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Aera let out a tiny sigh as her tiny fingers curled against his chest as she finally settled into sleep. Mingyu felt his heart swell. He was overwhelmed by love for the little family you and he had created.

Exhaustion didn’t even matter at that point. Work didn’t matter. All that mattered was this — holding his daughter close, keeping her safe, and making sure you knew you weren’t alone.

He would always be here. For both of you.

MINGHAO

Minghao adjusted his glasses as they slipped down the bridge of his nose. It was a movement so familiar that it became muscle memory. He barely noticed anymore — just a simple push, a brief pause, and then back to the task at hand.

Stacks of student papers sat before him, each marked with his red pen in his neat handwriting. It was late, far later than he intended to stay up. But even as a college professor, he had deadlines. The responsibility was big.

Then, a sound broke the quiet atmosphere. He heard soft cries growing louder as they approached the living room.

Minghao set his pen down and turned just as you entered. Your face was lined with exhaustion, your eyes glassy with worry. In your arms, your one-year-old daughter, Daiyu, whimpered pitifully as her tiny face scrunched in distress.

“I think she has a fever,” you murmured as you shifted Daiyu in your arms.

Minghao’s heart clenched at the sight of his little girl’s flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. Without hesitation, he stood up and reached for her. And with gentle but firm hands, he took her from your arms.

Daiyu squirmed. He felt her warm body radiating heat against his chest. She was clearly burning up. He rocked her gently and pressed a kiss to her damp forehead.

“Shh, bǎo bèi,” he whispered. “Daddy’s here.”

You hovered close while rubbing your arms as though you were cold. But your worry was visible. “What should we do?”

“Let’s check her temperature first.”

Carrying Daiyu, he walked towards the medicine cabinet and grabbed the thermometer with one hand while balancing her with the other. He placed it under her arm and murmured soft reassurances as she fussed. A few seconds later, the reading confirmed what he was already worried about.

“She’s definitely running a fever,” he said as he kept his voice steady, though his heart ached at the sight of her discomfort.

You bit your lip as your hands twisted together. “Should we call the doctor?” you asked.

“Not yet,” Minghao said gently. “Let’s give her some medicine first and see if it helps.”

He carefully measured out the correct dose of infant fever reducer and gently encouraged Daiyu to swallow it while whispering soothing words. Despite her little whimper, she leaned against his chest and gripped his shirt with her small fingers.

He resumed pacing around the house while rocking her in his arms. His professor’s mind was now entirely focused on his daughter. The academic world, the papers waiting for his attention — none of it mattered right now.

You sat on the sofa watching them with a soft expression. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly as you saw how gently Minghao held your daughter.

For nearly an hour, he walked, whispering lullabies, stroking her back, feeling her tiny breaths against his neck. Slowly, the fever medicine began to work, and Daiyu’d cries quieted. Her body relaxed against him as her breathing evened out.

Finally, when he was sure she was fully asleep, he carefully laid her in her cot. He stood there for a moment and watched her to make sure she was truly resting.

You stepped beside him and leaned into his side. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Minghao sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “She’s our baby. I’d do anything for her.”

As he looked down at your sleeping daughter, peaceful at last, he knew he’d stay up all night if he had to — because some things were far more important than grading papers.

SEUNGKWAN

Seungkwan let out a satisfied sigh as he sank into the sofa after putting the laundry in the dryer. He knew you would appreciate coming home to clean clothes instead of another argument about his procrastination. You worked long hours, and the last thing he wanted was to hear you yelling about unfinished chores.

Just as he was about to close his eyes for a well-earned break, a small voice interrupted him.

“Daddy?”

Seungkwan opened one eye to see his five-year-old daughter, Yuna, standing beside him with an eager grin. “Yes darling?”

“Can I put makeup on you?” she asked.

Seungkwan frowned. “Makeup? But Yuna, you don’t have any makeup.”

“I’ll use Mummy’s!” she giggled mischievously.

Seungkwan sat up straighter. “Uh…I don’t think Mummy would like that,” he said carefully. “She doesn’t like anyone touching her stuff.”

“Please Daddy?” Yuna pleaded with her big eyes shimmering with hope. She clasped her little hands together and tilted her head like a puppy begging for a treat.

Seungkwan hesitated. The idea of having his face covered in lipstick and eyeshadow wasn’t exactly appealing. But how could he say no to that face?

“Alright,” he finally relented with a sigh. “But! Mummy can’t know, okay? It’s our little secret.”

Yuna squealed in delight and grabbed his hand before dragging him upstairs to the bedroom. She climbed onto the bed and rummaged through your emergency makeup bag with the enthusiasm of a treasure hunter. Seungkwan at patiently, already regretting this decision.

The next fifteen minutes were filled with giggles and concentration as she dabbed powder onto his cheeks, swiped red lipstick across his lips (some of it ending up on his chin), and painted his eyelids with an uneven mix of shimmering pink and purple.

Seungkwan caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and nearly laughed out loud. He looked ridiculous. But when he saw Yuna’s face beaming with joy, he didn’t care.

“You look so pretty Daddy!” she said proudly.

Before Seungkwan could respond, the sound of the front door opening made his stomach drop. You were home.

“Quick! Clean up!” his eyes widened.

But it was too late. The footsteps got closer, followed by your voice. “Yuna? Kwanie?”

The bedroom door swung open, and there you stood.

Your gaze swept over the scene before you — the makeup scattered across the bed, your daughter holding a mascara wand like a paintbrush, and your husband sitting there with his face covered in a colorful mess.

Your eyes widened in shock, “my makeup!” you shrieked.

Yuna flinched at your tone, but Seungkwan quickly spoke up. “Honey, I—”

“You let her use my expensive makeup for this?!” you interrupted.

But then, as you stared at them, something shifted. You saw the way Yuna giggled with her little hands covered in powder. You saw Seungkwan looking utterly ridiculous but grinning as your daughter beamed with happiness.

And just like that, your frustration melted away.

Seungkwan gave you a sheepish smile. “I’ll buy you new ones, I promise” he told you.

He then glanced at Yuna, who was now giggling uncontrollably. “But…look how happy she is.”

You let out a deep breath. Then, against your better judgment, you laughed. “You’re lucky she’s cute,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, do you want Yuna to do your makeup next?” your husband grinned.

“Yes! Mummy, can I do your makeup next?” Yuna jumped up.

“Not a chance” you deadpanned.

HANSOL

Hansol sat at his tiny desk typing away on his laptop with one hand while the other cradled his six-month-old daughter Nabi against his chest. She was so warm and peaceful in his arms. Her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of his grey hoodie as he gently rocked her with his knee.

He was exhausted, but exhaustion had become second nature by now. Between his final year of university and fatherhood, sleep was a luxury. His dissertation deadline was in two weeks, and with every keystroke, he fought against time. He was determined to finish strong, if not for himself, then for you and his daughter.

Nabi wasn’t exactly planned to begin with. When you found out that you were pregnant, it hit him hard. Both of you were scared. Hansol remembered sitting on your dorm room bed with his hands gripping his hair while you cried softly beside him. Neither of you had an idea how you were going to manage university and a baby. It felt impossible.

But that was until Nabi was born.

Hansol wasn’t the type to cry easily, but when the nurse placed her in his arms for the first time, he broke completely. She weighed like a feather, so small and fragile, and yet the weight of her in his arms felt heavy.

Every doubt, every fear, melted away in that moment. He made a silent vow to her that he would do anything to protect her and give her the life she deserved.

It wasn’t easy. Balancing classes, assignments, and sleepless nights with a newborn pushed you both to your limits. But he and you faced every challenge together. You leaned on each other when things got overwhelming.

And tonight was no different.

Hansol adjusted Nabi slightly to make sure she was comfortable, and kept typing. His dissertation deadline was fast approaching, and he still had a long way to go. He tried to focus, but the warmth of Nabi against him and the rhythmic sound of her breathing made it hard not to get distracted.

And then, without warning, Nabi stirred. She let out a tiny gurgle before she vomited all over him.

Hansol’s body froze.

The warmth of the spit-up seeped through his hoodie and onto his chest. His eyes widened in horror as he realised some of it had also landed on his dissertation papers.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned as he pushed his chair back abruptly. He carefully lifted Nabi away from the mess, wrinkling his nose.

“Babe! I need backup!”

A moment later, you appeared in the doorway with your own tired eyes widening as you took in the scene. Hansol, covered in baby vomit, Nabi blinking innocently in his arms, and his once-pristine papers now splattered with milk.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, but a snort of laughter escaped. “You look like you just lost a fight,” you teased.

“Yeah, and she didn’t even have to try,” your boyfriend muttered, trying to wipe himself down while keeping Nabi steady.

“Can you grab me a towel? And maybe some clean paper while you’re at it?”

Still giggling, you disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth. You wiped Nabi’s mouth first before handing Hansol another towel.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” you mused.

Hansol looked down at Nabi, who was now grinning up at him, completely unaware of the chaos she had caused. He couldn’t help but smile back, shaking his head.

“She’s worth it,” he said simply.

“Aren’t you princess?” he looked down at his daughter with a smile before leaning down to kiss her forehead. Nabi giggled as she reached her arms up to grab his face.

You leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your boyfriend’s cheek. “Yeah,” you murmured, “she really is.”

Life wasn’t perfect. It was messy, exhausting, and full of unexpected surprises. But as Hansol looked at his daughter and the love of his life, he knew one thing for sure — he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

CHAN

Chan stepped out of his car and stretched his arms as he took a deep breath of the cool night air. It had been a while since he went out with the boys, and though he enjoyed the break, he was eager to be home. The comfort of his wife and daughter was where he truly belonged.

But the moment he stepped inside, he knew something was wrong.

The house was in chaos. There were pillows thrown from the sofa, toys scattered everywhere, and a sippy cup knocked over, juice pooling on the coffee table. Then he heard his four-year-old daughter, Dahyun, crying and screaming loudly.

Chan’s stomach tightened as he hurried towards the living room.

When he walked in seeing you holding Dahyun by her arms and guiding her down onto her bottom with an exhausted but sharp glare.

“Sit on your bottom, now,” you ordered, your voice raised and filled with frustration. “You do NOT throw toys across the room like that when you’re told no. That made Mummy very sad!”

Dahyun froze, startled by your angry tone. Her big, tear-filled eyes locked onto your face as her little chest rose and fell in quick breaths. The room was silent just for a second, and Chan saw the confusion in his daughter’s expression. Then, she bursted into loud, uncontrollable sobs with fat tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

Chen’s frown deepened. His heart squeezed painfully watching her wail with her tiny hands gripping her pyjama shirt as she hiccupped between cries.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

You let out a long, tired sigh as you rubbed your temple. Dark circles under your eyes showed just how drained you were. “She threw her toy at me when I told her she couldn’t have another custard tart,” you explained softly but still frustrated.

“It nearly hit me Chan. I can’t let her think that’s okay. She needs to learn.”

Chan nodded understandingly. You were home with Dahyun all day managing her tantrums, her tireless energy, and her stubbornness. He knew how exhausting it was. He also knew that you weren’t usually this harsh. You were just at your limit.

Still, the way Dahyun was crying, the way her little body shook on the floor, made his chest ache unbearably.

“Don’t comfort her yet,” you added quickly, sensing his thoughts. “She needs to understand that what she did was wrong.”

Chan hesitated as his gaze shifted between you and your daughter. You weren’t wrong — Dahyun needed to learn boundaries. But the way she was sobbing and struggling to breathe between her cries made it impossible for him to stand by and do nothing.

He couldn’t.

Ignoring your warning, he stepped forward and knelt down before scooping Dahyun into his arms. She held onto him immediately with her little fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt as she buried her wet face into his neck.

“Shh, my baby, calm down” Chan whispered as he rocked her gently.

Dahyun’s cries softened into hiccups as he rubbed her back in slow circles. He pressed gentle kisses to her tear-streaked cheeks while murmuring soothing words as he held her close.

You sighed as you leaned back against the sofa, exhausted. “Chan..”

“I know,” he said before you could finish. He knew discipline was important. He knew Dahyun had to learn that throwing things in anger wasn’t okay. But he also knew she was only four and was still learning how to handle her big emotions. Right now, what she needed more than anything was comfort.

You exhaled as your anger faded into quiet understanding. “It’s just been a long day,” you admitted.

Chan nodded while he adjusted Dahyun as her sniffles finally calmed. “We’ll teach her together,” he promised. “But I can’t just watch her cry like that. I just can’t.”

“I know” you offered a smal, tired smile.

As Dahyun’s small body relaxed against his chest, Chan knew that parenting wasn’t about being perfect. It was about balance. Discipline and love, lessons and comfort. And at the end of the day, no matter how difficult things got, love would always come first.

a/n; comment your favourite!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MY WORKS | oneshots

— [JEONGHAN]

✎ people like me

✎ too hurt to hold on

PEOPLE LIKE ME

❧ PAIRING; jeonghan x reader

❧ GENRE; angst

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; strangers to lovers to strangers, heavy angst, timestamp, oneshot, emotionally unavailable jeonghan, major character death, implied depression, smoking, alcohol consumption, grumpy x sunshine with tragic ending, inspired by the song ‘Angel’ ft Jimin

❧ WORDCOUNT; 3.2k

𐚁₊⊹

▍18 OCTOBER 2021

It was autumn the first time Jeonghan saw you.

It was a late afternoon, where the sky was a faded blue, and the golden leaves settled on the ground in a final display of warmth before winter’s icy touch.

You were standing beneath a rust-coloured oak tree, watching a flock of birds taking off into the sky. And there was something about the way you watched them with your head tilted slightly and lips parted like you were whispering a wish only the wind could carry. It was like you wanted to follow them.

It was as if you had wings yourself. Something untouchable and too delicate for this world.

As another cool breeze blew, it tangled through your long, dark hair, lifting stray strands and sending them floating like silk ribbons around your face.

You had no jacket on and your oversized blue sweater had slipped off one shoulder. Jeonghan wondered why you’d wear something like that on a cold day.

He was sitting on a park bench with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, watching you the way someone watched something they know they shouldn’t want.

Then, as if you sensed him, you turned and met his gaze.

Most people looked at him and saw trouble. Some saw a lost cause.

But you? You just smiled.

It was the kind of smile that could undo a man. And maybe, just maybe, that was the moment you undid him.

And perhaps it was also the moment you started ruining him.

Jeonghan saw you as someone who belonged in the sky. Someone who wasn’t meant to stay tied down to the earth like he was.

▍8 DECEMBER 2021

He learnt your name without you even telling him. Kim Y/n.

He wasn’t supposed to, but the name-tag you dropped when you were rushing to work was what got you and him at his point.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” you asked him one day as you stirred your coffee absentmindedly.

It was his first date with you — or whatever counted as a date in his world. He took you to a dingy little café in the corner of Gangnam, which had the kind of scent that smelt like burnt espresso and nostalgia to him.

“Not much to say” he shrugged.

You smiled and rested your chin on your hand as you studied him. “I think you just don’t know what to say to me.”

That should have been Jeonghan’s first warning. You were right.

You had this way of looking at people like you could see all their secrets. Like you could unravel them without even trying.

And for some reason, Jeonghan wanted to be unraveled by you.

You were all light and warmth. Laughter that filled a room. The kind of person who danced barefoot in the rain just because it made you feel alive. You would drag him into old record stores, press play on songs you swore could change his life.

You had a way of seeing the world that made one believe in magic. You believed in love, in fate, in the kind of things he stopped believing in years ago.

Jeonghan, on the other hand, was the kind of guy people warned a girl like you about. He had a past filled with bad decisions, hands that had held too many things too tightly and ruined them in the process. He had walls so high no one ever dared to climb them.

Except for you.

You climbed them without hesitation.

─────

It was past midnight, and both of you were lying on the roof of his apartment building, staring at the stars.

“I used to think I was meant for something bigger,” you murmured. “Like I was supposed to be something more.”

“You are,” he said without thinking.

You turned to face him, the city lights reflecting in your eyes. “You don’t even know me.”

He did, though.