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about me
minors dni.
despite most of my writing being fluff and safe for all ages, there are occasions where i do write 18+ content & my reblogs, as well. not only that, i am also an adult and am not comfortable w/ interacting with minors.
on that note, all my work is intended for fictional purposes, in ways that means no harm to others. if my work is offensive in any way, please message me and be respectful.
SAFE FOR EVERYONE
this blog is a safe place for everyone for all groups. while i primarily write through the female perspective, as that is something i am most familiar and comfortable with, i will not tolerate any discrimination or hate to any BIPOC or 2SLGBTQIA+ groups. behaviour of such will be blocked and removed, alongside any comments made.
i do NOT use ai of any kind for any of my writing. all my work is original, and may be inspired by whatever i see on my for you page. on that note, if i am inspired, i will link the videos/blogs/stories/content that i've taken inspiration from.
all MIRALINA's work is original and ai is NOT used.
there’s something about quiet afternoons that feels earned.
maybe it’s the way the sunlight spills lazily across the backyard—honey-thick and warm, but not overwhelming.
maybe it’s the soft hum of the neighborhood slowing down just enough for you to actually hear yourself think.
or maybe, just maybe, it’s the fact that for the first time in forty-eight hours, no one is screaming for a snack.
just you. your plants. and a rare, golden pocket of peace.
you’re hunched over your favorite monstera, tilting the watering can with the kind of precision usually reserved for heart surgery. you’d raised this thing from a sad, two-leafed clearance rack find into a lush, towering masterpiece. honestly, you were a little too emotionally attached to it.
“you’re doing so well,” you murmur, thumbing a waxy green leaf. “look at you. thriving.”
“you say that to all of them.”
the voice is low, raspy with the remnants of a nap. you glance over your shoulder to find vernon leaning against the sliding door frame. his hair is a mess of static and sleep, his hoodie pulled up slightly at the sleeves, and his phone is gripped loosely in one hand—forgotten. he’s got that lazy, half-lidded smile on his face. the one that says he’s been standing there, just watching you, for longer than he’d care to admit.
“don’t be jealous, hansol,” you shoot back, eyes crinkling. “you get compliments too.”
“not like that,” he hums, stepping onto the grass. the cool blades tickle his bare feet. “you’ve never called me lush and thriving.”
you snort, turning back to your plants. “do you want me to start?”
he actually pauses to consider it, nodding with fake gravity. “yeah. i think it would help my confidence.”
before you can come up with a devastatingly cheesy retort, a much smaller, much higher voice cuts through the air.
“mama!”
the peace doesn’t shatter—it just shifts.
your daughter is standing five feet away, clutching her tiny, neon-pink watering can like it’s a holy relic. her pigtails are coming undone, cheeks flushed pink from the sun, and she has that look of fierce determination that she definitely inherited from her father.
“look!” she beams, pointing a chubby finger downward.
you walk over, your heart doing that weird, soft ache it only does for her. she’s pointing at her tomato plant. it’s a bit scraggly and leaning slightly to the left, but it’s alive.
“wow,” you breathe, crouching down. “did you do this all by yourself?”
she nods so hard her pigtails bounce. “it was thirsty! i gave it a big drink.”
vernon drops into a crouch beside her, resting his chin on his palm. he inspects the damp soil with exaggerated, scholarly seriousness. “hmm. yes. excellent saturation. a very well-hydrated specimen.”
she giggles, leaning into his side. “i told it to grow big and strong. like daddy.”
vernon’s entire face softens—the kind of look he only saves for her. “smart kid,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple.
the moment is perfect. it’s a picture-frame moment.
until you feel it.
splat.
a sudden, cold shock of water hits your forearm. you freeze. slowly, you turn your head to see your daughter standing there, her pink watering can tilted, a look of pure, accidental shock on her face.
a beat of silence passes.
“...did you just water me?” you ask.
her eyes go wide. then, she catches vernon’s stifled grin. she realizes it’s a game. she gasps, dissolving into a fit of belly-clutching giggles.
“that looked pretty intentional to me,” vernon says, his voice full of mischief.
“vernon,” you warn, narrowing your eyes.
he holds up his hands, retreating. “hey, i’m just a witness. i don’t make the rules.”
you look back at your daughter, who is now clutching her watering can like it’s a weapon.
“…okay,” you say slowly, setting your own can down. “if that’s how it is.”
her eyes light up.
you grab the hose—
“mama!” she shrieks, sprinting across the grass as a light mist trails after her. she’s fast, but she’s laughing too hard to make a clean getaway.
“you started it!” you call out, laughing as you track her movement.
“daddy, help!” she screams, beelining straight for vernon’s legs.
vernon barely has time to brace himself before she’s using him as a human shield. “wow,” he grunts as she clings to his knees.
“i’ve been drafted into the infantry.”
“protect me!” she squeals.
vernon looks at you, his eyes sparkling. he’s supposed to be the adult. he’s supposed to be the voice of reason. but this is vernon.
“i don’t know,” he muses, looking down at her. “what’s in it for me?”
“daddy!”
“okay, okay,” he laughs, shielding her with his body. he looks at you with mock-sternness. “i’m afraid i can’t let you proceed, ma’am. this is a protected zone.”
“you’re really picking a side?” you challenge, the hose nozzle twitching in your hand.
“i’m choosing the side with the cutest commander.”
you don't hesitate. you pivot the hose and soak his shins.
“hey!” he shouts, jumping back, his laughter echoing yours. he’s drenched in seconds, his shirt clinging to his chest, hair starting to flatten against his forehead.
it’s a full-blown war now.
vernon abandons his "observer" status and grabs the nearest bucket. your daughter runs back and forth between you, playing double agent—sometimes "helping" you hold the hose, only to turn around and splash your legs with her watering can.
vernon’s laugh is loud and unfiltered, filling the backyard as he dodges a spray of water, nearly tripping over a lawn gnome. he looks younger like this—carefree and glowing.
“okay, okay! truce! white flag!” he yells eventually, breathless and dripping.
you click the hose off, chest heaving, water dripping from your nose. “truce?” you ask, eyeing him suspiciously.
he walks over, his sneakers squelching in the grass, and pulls your daughter into his arms. “truce,” he confirms, tucking her head under his chin.
the garden is a swamp. your clothes are ruined. your hair is a disaster.
your daughter looks between the two of you, a giant, gap-toothed grin on her face. “...again?”
you and vernon answer in perfect unison, “no.”
she pouts.
you laugh, stepping forward to brush a wet strand of hair from her face. “maybe tomorrow, sweetheart.”
vernon wraps his free arm around your waist, pulling you into the damp, messy huddle. he smells like rain and sun-warmed cotton. he leans down, pressing a wet, cold kiss to your cheek.
“you know,” he whispers, looking at the mess of the garden and the shivering, happy child in his arms. “you were right.”
imagine you're on a picnic date and chan's doing his dumb pi cheolin impression and you're giggling at him because he's just so ADORABLE, and you catch his shirt and lean in and kiss him halfway through his sentence. he kisses back immediately, it's a gut response at this point, and you can FEEL the tension fade from the muscles in his face as he drops the persona. he presses closer, lowering you gently to the picnic blanket with a hand at your back, but once you're there he pulls away. he's still wearing the sunglasses. they're a little crooked now, and he reaches to fix them, but you beat him to it and push them up into his hair. his surprised eyes blink down at you. "but i was gonna do the --" "i'm not kissing a fifty-year-old-man," you warn, and all the protests fade as he dips down and captures your lips again -- as chan, not pi cheolin. (pi cheolin could never move the way chan does.)
im re-writing a bunch of old ideas so they can be better 😭 except my laptop screen is slightly broken so its hurting my eyes so im not writing as quickly as before...
Two times Jihoon makes you and your daughter pay him with kisses and the one time you get him back.
dad!jihoon x fem!reader
wc: 1.6k
genre: fluff, est. relationship, parents au
content: girl dad!jihoon :), petnames for reader and their child (baby, honey, babygirl), teasing as a love lang, just a ton of fluff tbh
divider by hyuneskkami!
Recently, you've learned that no weekend alarm works better than the sound of toys clattering on the floor and tiny feet running through the house.
So it's no surprise when small but steady thumps from the hallway pull you from your sleep, making you throw an arm over your eyes as you check the time. Of course your daughter would be up and running at 8:43AM on a Saturday. Considering how big of a night owl you and Jihoon are, it's quite ironic that she's the exact opposite. As her movements creep closer to your door, you give in and start to count down the seconds until she barges into your bedroom.
Jia enters with a bright "Mommy!" and instantly tries to climb onto your bed. You reach down in your sleep-dazed state and slip your hands under her arms to help pull her up. Then you sit her on your stomach with her little feet wedged into the free space between you and Jihoon.
Her hands press lightly into your ribs as she leans in to say, "Mommy, I need braid my hair."
You hum as your hand lifts up but grabs at empty air, attempting to stroke her hair with your eyes closed. You're already drifting off to sleep again as you tell her, “Let's ask your Dad to do it for you. Mommy’s still sleepy, baby.”
Jihoon shifts from beside you at the mention of his name. With nowhere else to hide, he nuzzles his face closer into your neck and sinks deeper under the duvet.
Jia switches her body weight onto Jihoon by laying on top of him and taps all over his cheeks, trying her best to pull his face towards her. "Daddy?"
Jihoon squeezes his eyes shut as fake snores rumble out of him, heaving his chest up and down dramatically. The motion moves Jia along with him, making her squeal uncontrollably with strings of drool dripping onto him. One of Jia's hands grab onto Jihoon's shoulder to steady herself while the other one shakes him awake. "I know you're not sleeping!"
"Noo, still sleeping… Shhh," whines Jihoon.
"Daddy, open your eyes and wake up! Hurry, I want two braids!"
He suddenly goes silent, then after a moment, he shoots up and flips Jia around so that she's now laying in his spot on the bed. He buries his head into her tummy to blow raspberries while his fingers tickle the bottom of her feet. Jia laughs gleefully and flails her arms around, struggling to escape from her dad's hold. Her fists accidentally fly towards your cheek, jolting you awake with a yelp.
Jihoon finally stops his attack on her to bark out a laugh before he hovers over you, rubbing at your cheek. You feel Jia's tiny hand settle next to his as she calms down from her laughter, "Sorry Mommy."
You giggle at the chaos and silliness of your family's morning as you pull both of their hands to your lips and press a chaste kiss into their palms.
"S'okay, honey. I know it was all Daddy's fault," you say, eyeing Jihoon with a playful glare.
Jia inches closer to you, "Daddy keep tickle Baby!"
"Oh! Lee Jia, you're tattling on me now, hm?" Jihoon says as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You reach up to wipe the drool stains from his chest and scoff at how childish he gets sometimes.
Jia shakes her whole body as she whines, "My turn to tickle Daddy."
"Alright, fine. You have 15 seconds, go!"
Jia starts to giggle before her fingers even reach Jihoon's waist. You can tell she's working hard on tickling him but her small fingers are no match for her dad—especially when he's not usually ticklish. Instead, most of the laughter coming from Jihoon is because he can't handle how cute his daughter is.
Jia quickly tires herself out and leans against you, "Done, no more tickle."
"Okay," Jihoon says, sitting back on the heels of his feet, "I heard you wanted Daddy to braid your hair, right? What's the magic word?"
You feel the warmth of his touch as both of his hands reach forward to brush loose strands of hair out your and Jia's eyes simultaneously. You have to resist the urge to catch his arm and press another kiss into his palm.
Jia wraps her hand around his fingers and pouts up at him. "Can you braid Baby hair, please?"
Jihoon hums, tilting his head to the side and pretends to be deep in thought. "What do I get for braiding Baby's hair?"
You chuckle, turning onto your side and folding one arm under your head as you watch them—equal parts entertained and fond. You always knew Jihoon would be a good husband and father, but you didn't realize how good until you had your daughter. His love has always been given through soft touches, kind affection, and playful remarks—you've felt it in every little moment with him, but it seems to have increased tenfold ever since Jia was born.
Jia huffs and moves to sit on her heels just like her dad. "I give you 10 kisses."
Jihoon juts his chin out and taps his cheek with his finger, "Okay, pay up first."
She rushes forward to wrap her arms around Jihoon's neck and start to pepper his face with soft pecks as he counts. "One… two… three… three… three… still need ten more!"
You breathe out a laugh and send a light slap to his thigh, "Stop messing with her."
Jihoon squishes her cheeks together and gives her a kiss of his own before repositioning them so that he can sit against the headboard with Jia in his lap. You watch quietly as his slender fingers work gently through her hair, dividing it into sections then crossing them into a french braid pattern.
Jia's hair is just past her shoulders, so Jihoon finishes the first one quickly, leaning on his side and reaching for leftover hair ties on the nightstand. You move from your pillow and scoot closer to them so that you can rest your head on Jihoon's thigh, your legs still tangled with the sheets.
You play with Jia's hand, running your fingers over her tiny nails and knuckles as Jihoon works on the second braid.
You press a soft kiss onto the back of her hand as you look up at her, "Happy that Daddy's braiding your hair today?"
She nods at you, "Yeah. I love Daddy."
Your heart swells and you fight the urge to scoop her up into a bear hug. You can tell Jihoon is feeling the same when his hands falter at her remark. You giggle and press your lips loudly onto her hand as Jihoon leans forward to kiss the crown of her head at the same time.
She giggles at the sensation and squeezes your hand to get you to look up at her again. "Mommy, you next?"
You crane your neck back even more to catch Jihoon in your line of sight, "I don't know… Can I be next?"
"Of course, baby." Then he adds cheekily, "If you pay up."
Jia claps excitedly, "Ten kisses!"
You get started right away, leaning down to press a light kiss onto his knee, "One."
Then another. "Two."
You flip your body the opposite way so that you're face to face with Jihoon's waist as he pulls Jia to stand up on the bed. "All done now, babygirl. You look so pretty," he says, patting her head.
Jia jumps eagerly as she feels the braids on the sides of her head. She throws her arms around Jihoon in a tight hug then plants a wet kiss onto your temple before sliding off your bed.
"Thank you Daddy, Bye Mommy! Love you!" You wince a little as she pulls your door close with a thud and runs back to the toys in her room.
Jihoon runs a hand through your hair as you place a kiss on the side of his waist. Your mouth is scorching hot against his already warm skin and it makes his stomach cave with want. "Three."
You wiggle to scoot your body even higher and deeper into his lap. Then a kiss onto the skin right above his navel. His breath hitches and his fingers curl into your hair. "Four."
You finally sit up and hold onto his thigh for support, placing a kiss on his chest, right above his heart. "Five."
Jihoon lets out a whine as he leans back on his hands, "Baby…"
You shush him softly, "You wanted me to pay up, right?"
You continue onto his collarbone. "Six."
The column of his neck. "Seven."
You're fully sitting in his lap by now, thighs caging him in and hands coming up to cradle his face. His arms slide around your waist to pull you closer—the act so natural like you were always meant to be next to him.
A peck onto his jawline. "Eight."
His nose. "Nine."
Your lips move slowly and hover right in front of his own. He can feel your breath tickling his skin as he stills, waiting for the moment your lips meet his. Your eyes flick up to his before focusing back on his lips. He can't help but let out a tremulous breath when you smile, finally inching closer. Jihoon closes his eyes in relief as he begins to feel your lips against his.
Then all the heat around him vanishes—as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over him. When he opens his eyes, you're already out of his arms, running out of the room with laughter echoing throughout the house. Jihoon is in so much shock, he can only sit frozen on the bed, mouth wide open and arms now enveloping cold empty space.
After what feels like hours, his brain finally catches up to the scene in front of him and he bolts out of bed, flying straight towards you.
a/n: a barely proofread & very self-indulgent piece… i've been stressed to the MAX lately and just needed a quick + fun outlet :-) (and i miss woozi) as always, ty for reading, lmk what u think!
a/n 2: did a quick read through... take a shot every time reader kisses someone's hand lol
trying to figure out what i want to write now because i have so many ideas coming into my mind
its prob gonna take another 2 weeks~ for me to post another long fic, but im going to go back to posting my small oneshots in the meantime! thank you so much for all the support i've received this entire week <33
I just saw the anon asking about whether Woozi wrote ruby about her, and I remember seventeen reacting to Ruby MV they're losing their shits when he said "shit this is red too" THAT IS PERFECT I was imagining it and now I'm all giggly (≧▽≦)
BYE IVE BEEN HAVING RUBY PLAYING ON REPEAT EVER SINCE JIHOON JOINED MY BIAS LINE TWO WEEKS AGO, WHICH CAUSED ME TO WRITE MUSICAL PRIDE IN THE FIRST PLACE
he got promoted from bias wrecker to official bias line, now making triple J line into quadruple J line (jeonghan, joshua, jun, jihoon)
