The kind of ordinary day that should’ve passed without consequence.
Jihoon was three years and four months old, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by her stuffed animals and speaking to them in a language that was about sixty percent understandable and forty percent adorable nonsense.
Her words were still soft and clumsy around the edges—little syllables bumping into each other, vowels stretched where they shouldn’t be.
“Dish one sit here. No, no—dat’s Mama bear’sh seat.”
You smiled to yourself as you folded laundry nearby. Sunghoon was at work. The house was quiet.
And because your husband had once again shoved random things into the hallway closet instead of properly organizing them, you’d decided today was finally the day to tackle it.
That was his first mistake. His second mistake? Hiding that photo where you could eventually find it.
You were halfway through muttering under your breath about Sunghoon’s inability to throw anything away when you spotted an old photo album tucked behind a stack of winter blankets.
Curious, you pulled it free and sat down right there on the floor.
At first, the photos were harmless.
Tiny baby Sunghoon bundled in blankets.
Sunghoon being held by his mother.
Sunghoon asleep in a crib.
Cute? Absolutely. Dangerous? Not yet. Then you turned another page and froze.
“…No way.”
There he was.
A tiny little toddler sitting on a swing over pale sand, bundled in a puffy brown winter jacket with fur lining around the hood.
His little legs dangled awkwardly, tiny red shoes hanging just above the ground. His jeans bunched around his knees.
His hair was sticking up in every possible direction like he’d just rolled out of bed and refused to let anyone fix it.
And his expression—
That tiny pout. That serious little face. Those huge dark eyes staring blankly ahead like the world had mildly inconvenienced him.
It was Sunghoon. At one year and eleven months old.
And he was so offensively adorable that your body physically reacted. Your hand flew to your mouth.
“Oh my god.”
Jihoon looked up from across the room.
“Mama?”
You slowly turned the album toward her like it was sacred scripture.
“Come here.” She scrambled over on her knees, peering down.
Her eyes widened. “…Appa?”
“Yes.”
She poked the picture. “Baby Appa?”
“Yes.” She gasped dramatically.
“Sho tiny.”
“Very tiny.”
Her little brows furrowed. “…Why he look mad?”
You stared harder at the photo and burst out laughing. “He does look mad.”
Jihoon nodded seriously. “Appa grumpy baby.”
And then— you felt it.
That unmistakable ache. That dangerous, irrational, all-consuming wave of baby fever.
The kind that made your chest squeeze and your brain whisper: You need another one. Immediately.
Within approximately forty-seven seconds, you had:
Taken a picture of the photo. Cropped it perfectly. Set it as your lock screen. Sent it to Yeji. Sent it to Sunghoon’s mother. Zoomed in specifically on the cheeks
Because the cheeks deserved focus. Jihoon watched all this happen from your side.
“Mama.”
“Yes?”
“Can I shee Baby Appa gain?”
You showed her. She giggled “He look like tiny bean.”
“He does.” You sighed dreamily. “He’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Jihoon frowned immediately. “Cuter dan me?”
You gasped. “No, sweetheart. Never.”
Then pointed again. “But almosht.”
You wheezed.
Sunghoon came home an hour later.
The second he walked through the door, Jihoon ran to him dramatically.
“APPAAAA!”
He bent automatically, scooping her up with one arm. “Hi, princess.”
Then she pointed accusingly at him. “You wash tiny and grumpy.” Sunghoon blinked. “…What?”
You appeared in the hallway holding your phone like evidence in a criminal trial. “Explain yourself.” The second he saw the screen light up— tiny serious toddler him staring back from the swing— he physically deflated.
“…You found it.”
“Found it?” you repeated.
He sighed deeply.
“Yes.”
You marched closer. “Why.” He rubbed his forehead. “Because I knew this would happen.”
“What would happen?” He gave you a pointed look.
“You’re staring at me like I personally betrayed you.”
“You DID betray me.”
Jihoon gasped. “Appa bad?”
Sunghoon immediately panicked. “No, no—Appa not bad.”
You thrust the phone toward him. “Why did you hide this?” He glanced at the photo.
Then at you. Then back at the photo.
“…Because I knew you’d react like this.” You squinted.“Like what?”
He deadpanned perfectly:
“‘Oh my god, Hoon, look at your tiny shoes. We need another baby right now.’”
Your mouth dropped open. Jihoon looked between you both.
“…Need baby?”
Sunghoon pointed accusingly.
“See?”
You crossed your arms. “That is not what I sound like.”
“It is exactly what you sound like.”
Jihoon nodded. “Exacly.”
“Whose side are you on?!”
“Mine,” she answered proudly.
It got progressively worse over the next week.
You became unbearable. Everywhere you went, the lock screen followed.
At breakfast:
“Hoon.”
“No.”
“Look at your tiny shoes.”
“No.”
At bedtime:
“Imagine little matching shoes again.”
“No.”
While watching TV:
“Your cheeks were illegal.”
“Please stop saying that.”
Even Jihoon had started joining in.
“Appa, why you sho puffy?”
Sunghoon would bury his face in his hands every single time.
Then came the final attack.
One evening after Jihoon was asleep, Sunghoon was washing dishes while you leaned against the counter pretending to scroll through your phone.
Really, you were just staring at the photo. Again.
Sunghoon noticed.
Of course he noticed. “You’re doing it again.” You looked up innocently.“Doing what?”
“Looking at it like it personally wronged you.”
You smiled sweetly. “Hoon.”
He sighed instantly. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m asking.”
“Yes, I do.”
You walked over slowly, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. He softened immediately.
Always did. “What if…”
“No.”
“…Jihoon had a little sibling?”
“No.”
“With your hair?”
“No.”
“With your pout?”
“Still no.”
You pulled out your phone and held up the photo right beside his face. “Look me in the eyes and tell me the world doesn’t deserve another one of these.”
He stared. At the photo. At you. At your ridiculously hopeful expression. Then groaned.
“You are weaponizing my toddlerhood.”
“It’s working.” He muttered under his breath.You kissed his jaw softly.
Then whispered, “Please?”
And that was his downfall. Because your husband had never once survived that voice.
He exhaled heavily. “…One more.” You froze. “Really?” “One more because I love you. And because if I say no, I’ll never know peace again.”
You squealed and launched yourself at him. He barely caught you in time, laughing helplessly. “You’re impossible.” “You love me.”
He kissed your forehead. “…Unfortunately.”
TIME SKIP — ONE YEAR OLD JISUNG
And apparently, the universe had heard every single shameless wish you made while staring at that photo.
Because now— one-year-old Jisung sat in your lap wearing tiny red shoes.
And looked exactly like that picture.
Exactly. Same fluffy messy hair. Same serious pout. Same sleepy, mildly offended expression. Same little tilt of the head.
Even Sunghoon’s mother had nearly dropped her tea the first time she noticed.
“That is literally my son.”
And you? You had cried. Actually cried.
Because this was exactly what you’d asked for.
YN NEVER LETS HIM LIVE IT DOWN
Now, every family gathering included your favorite activity:
forcing everyone to compare the side-by-side photos.
“LOOK.”
You shoved your phone toward Yeji.
On screen: baby Sunghoon on the swing. Jisung now.
It was absurd. Yeji laughed.
“I know!”
“No, really LOOK.”
“I HAVE BEEN LOOKING.”
Across the couch, Sunghoon sighed while Jihoon attempted to clip sparkly barrettes into his hair.
“Do we need to keep doing this?”
“Yes.”
Jisung reached over from your arms and smacked Sunghoon’s cheek. Softly.
Exactly the way his mother had once said baby Sunghoon used to.nYou gasped so loudly everyone turned.
“HE DID THE THING.”
Sunghoon groaned.
“Oh no.”
You clutched Jisung dramatically.
“My beautiful answered prayer.”
Sunghoon looked at you then— really looked.
At your glowing smile.
At Jihoon giggling beside him.
At Jisung blinking sleepily in your arms.
And his expression softened into that quiet, helpless smile he only ever wore for you.
“…You got exactly what you wanted.”
You shook your head. Looking at all three of them.
“No.”
Your voice softened.
“I got more.” and just like that— Sunghoon leaned over and kissed your temple while Jisung, tiny pout and all, smacked his father again.
Saturdays meant sticky fingers and strawberry-stained cheeks. The early sun filtered through the curtains as your three-year-old daughter climbed onto your bed with her usual greeting—a giggle and a cold foot pressed to your side.
You groaned dramatically. “How do you have this much energy already?”
“I had strawberries,” she declared proudly, cheeks pink, a dot of red still at the corner of her mouth.
“I just washed those sheets, baby,” you sighed, already reaching to wipe her face with the corner of the blanket.
That’s when Sunghoon walked in, holding the plastic pint of strawberries and a guilty smile. “She caught me in the kitchen. I folded.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You bribed her so you wouldn’t have to get back in bed and watch Bluey for the fifth time.”
He walked around the bed and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “It’s called strategic delegation.”
Your daughter reached over and patted your cheek. “Daddy’s funny.”
“He thinks so,” you said dryly, sitting up and brushing her hair back. “Farmer’s market?”
Sunghoon grinned. “Always.”
There was something ritualistic about the way the three of you moved through the local stalls. Your daughter sat perched on Sunghoon’s shoulders, legs swinging and eyes wide, while he narrated everything they passed like a dad-joke-infused tour guide.
“That,” he pointed, “is kale. Mommy only buys that when she’s mad at me.”
“Daddy,” you hissed, laughing.
“Is that true, Mama?” your daughter asked with absolute seriousness.
“No, baby,” you answered, biting back a grin. “Daddy just doesn’t know how to cook it.”
Sunghoon reached over to squeeze your hand, thumb brushing your wedding ring, and gave you the soft, crooked smile that always made your chest ache in that warm, familiar way.
You bought homemade jam, two sunflowers, and your daughter begged for a honey stick that stained her lips and hands by the time you got back to the car. She promptly passed out in her car seat, her face sticky, hair messy, and her head tilted just so against the window.
At home, you took turns cleaning up the kitchen while the other unpacked the groceries. Sunghoon made you coffee while humming something vaguely familiar under his breath—something sweet, probably from a lullaby.
You were rinsing fruit when you felt small arms circle your leg.
“Hey, baby,” you murmured, reaching down to smooth your daughter's hair. “You’re up?”
She nodded sleepily, blinking up at you. “Mama…”
“Hm?”
She rocked a little on her heels before looking up with wide, hopeful eyes. “Can I have a baby sister?”
You froze. Completely off guard. Soap bubbles still clinging to your wrist. “A baby…?”
She nodded again, like this was a casual post-nap conversation.
“W-Why do you want a baby sister?” you asked gently, crouching down to meet her eyes.
“So she can have you and daddy too.” Her voice was matter-of-fact. “I already talked to daddy about it.”
Your brain short-circuited. “You what?”
Sunghoon’s voice floated in from the hallway, where he was folding dish towels. “She caught me off guard yesterday during snack time. Told me she wants someone to share blueberries with.”
You turned your head to look at him, stunned. “And what did you say?”
He leaned against the doorway, smirking, arms crossed. “I said it sounded like a good idea.”
“You did not—”
“Why not?” he shrugged, grinning wider now. “She made a compelling case.”
You turned back to your daughter, who was now hugging your waist and resting her cheek against your belly like she already knew something you didn’t.
“You can talk to Daddy about it,” she whispered, like it was a little secret. “I think he wants one too.”
You looked up at Sunghoon, who was still watching you with that same soft, amused affection. And you couldn’t even argue with him. Not when he looked like that—soft sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows, hair messy from the wind, face glowing from the sunlight still filtering in through the window.
You sighed. “Guess we’re talking about it,” you said, brushing your daughter’s hair back with a smile you couldn’t suppress.
“Tonight,” Sunghoon offered, walking over to kiss your cheek from behind. “After she’s asleep.”
Your daughter blinked up at you again. “Do I get to name her?”
You choked on a laugh. “One step at a time, sweetheart.”
But Sunghoon just whispered in your ear: “She already picked three names. Hope you like ‘Princess Berry Snowflake.’”
You turned and lightly smacked his chest.And he laughed like it was the best joke he’d told all day.
It was quiet now. The kind of quiet that only happened after bath time, three bedtime stories, and a soft but firm “No, baby, you already had water—no, this is not an emergency.”
You leaned against the kitchen counter, wearing one of Sunghoon’s old t-shirts and cotton shorts, sipping the last of your wine and letting the day roll off your shoulders in layers. Behind you, the dishwasher hummed. From down the hall, silence finally meant sleep.
You heard Sunghoon’s footsteps before you saw him. Slow. Barefoot. Comfortable in his element—sweatpants slung low on his hips and a clean tee that still smelled faintly like your fabric softener and him.
He slipped behind you, arms circling your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.
“She’s out cold,” he murmured against your skin.
“Thank God,” you breathed, leaning back into him. “She’s getting stronger. I think she could take us if we teamed up.”
Sunghoon laughed into your neck. “I think she already has. One strawberry at a time.”
You hummed, quiet for a beat, before nudging him gently with your elbow. “So…”
“So,” he echoed, playing with the edge of your shirt.
“You really said yes to her? When she asked about a sibling?”
“I said it was a good idea,” he replied, voice low and warm. “Didn’t say when.”
You twisted a little to face him, his hands still on your waist, now sliding up the small of your back with that familiar ease. “She said you already had a whole talk about it.”
“Oh, we did,” he nodded, mock-serious. “Very thorough. She thinks it should be a girl. So she can wear bows and help her fight invisible dragons.”
You snorted. “And you just agreed?”
“She used her please voice.” He gave you a look. “You know I’m weak for that.”
You tilted your head, heart softening despite yourself. “Would you really want another?”
Sunghoon’s eyes flicked across your face like he was memorizing something. “I’d want anything with you,” he said simply. “Another baby. Another decade of bedtime stories. Another Saturday at the market. I’d do it all over again.”
Your breath caught for a second. He said it so casually, but it hit somewhere deep. He didn’t just love being a dad. He loved being one with you.
“But only if you want it,” he added, gently now, thumb stroking the curve of your waist. “You’re the one who carried her. Who nursed and woke up and rocked her through all those nights I slept through like an idiot.”
“You changed every diaper for six weeks straight,” you reminded him, voice quiet.
“That was a small price to pay for not birthing an entire human,” he said, grinning now. “Also, I’m pretty sure she liked me more after that.”
“She likes you more because you give her strawberries at 7 AM,” you teased.
“She likes you more because you’re her safe place,” he said without missing a beat. “She runs to me for fun. But she runs to you when she’s scared.”
You blinked. The wine, the warmth, the words—you weren’t sure which made your chest ache more.
“Sunghoon…”
His hands found your hips again. “You’re already the best mom I’ve ever seen. If we do this again, it’s not because anything’s missing. It’s because I want more of this. Of us.”
You slid your arms around his neck and pulled him in, kissing him softly—long, grateful, full of quiet emotion. And then he kissed you back with something deeper.
“Baby,” he murmured against your lips, “I love this shirt on you, but I’d love it more on the floor.”
You broke into a laugh, pressing your forehead to his. “You’re impossible.”
He walked you backward toward the bedroom, smile pressed to your jaw. “She asked if we’d start tonight.”
“She what?!”
“She most definitely does not know how babies are made but I still said you’d probably need convincing.”
You were breathless now, caught between laughter and heat. “And how do you plan to do that, exactly?”
Sunghoon’s voice dropped, his hands skimming under your shirt. “Thought I’d remind you how good we are at this.”
“Mm. You mean parenting?”
He grinned. “Sure. That too.”
Afterwards, you were curled into his chest, blanket tangled around your legs, your fingers drawing lazy circles on his bare stomach. Sunghoon was half-asleep, lips near your temple.
“She’s gonna be so smug when we tell her we tried,” you whispered.
“Let her be. She’s not wrong,” he said sleepily. “Princess Berry Snowflake is a powerful negotiator.”
You laughed again, heart full. And maybe it wouldn’t happen tonight. Maybe not next month. But the idea of growing your family—of choosing more love, more chaos, more you and him—suddenly felt less like a maybe. And more like a promise.
It happened on a Tuesday. A completely average, boring, leftover-for-lunch kind of Tuesday. You weren’t trying exactly. Not the way you had the first time, when you tracked every cycle and peed on more sticks than you cared to remember. But you’d been…open. To the idea. The possibility. The little voice of your daughter still echoing in your mind: “I already talked to Daddy about it.”
You thought you were just tired. Maybe hormonal. You cried at a commercial for baby lotion. You snapped at Sunghoon for leaving socks under the dining table (he hadn’t), and when your daughter spilled her juice and whispered, “I sorry, Mama,” you teared up instantly and held her for ten full minutes.
You found the last pregnancy test wedged in the back of the bathroom drawer, behind the heating pad and the mystery nail polish from 2022.
You didn’t think it would be positive. You were almost sure it wouldn’t be. You told yourself not to read into anything. Not to hope. But when you set it on the counter and turned back a minute later—Two lines. Two. You just…Stared.
For a long minute, your brain emptied out like a shaken Etch A Sketch. You sat on the edge of the tub in complete silence, holding the test in your lap like it might start speaking. Then a tiny knock at the bathroom door.
“Mama?” A small voice. Your daughter. “Can I come in?”
You blinked, remembered how to breathe, and cracked the door open. “Hi, baby,” you said, voice barely steady. “Where’s Daddy?”
She pointed down the hallway. “He’s folding socks. I told him to wait.”
You blinked again. “You told him to—?”
She slipped into the bathroom and stood in front of you, looking curiously at the white stick in your hand. “What’s that?”
You smiled softly, eyes burning. “It means… there’s a baby in Mama’s belly.”
Her eyes went round. Mouth open. She gasped like you’d just given her a unicorn. “Really?!”
You nodded.
Then she screamed. Not a frightened scream—a delighted, absolutely ecstatic shriek that echoed down the hallway like a fire alarm. You heard Sunghoon’s footsteps before you saw him.
He burst into the room, one sock in his hand, completely panicked. “What happened?! What’s wrong?!”
She turned and shouted: “It’s happening! The baby! She has it!”
You snorted a laugh, still teary, still holding the test.
Sunghoon looked at you. Then at the test. Then at you again. And he froze. He blinked, like he needed to reboot. Then slowly—slowly—a smile spread across his face. That full, boyish, starry smile that had always wrecked you a little.
He stepped forward. “Wait, for real?”
You nodded, barely getting the word out. “Yeah.”
He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath since you first mentioned it. Dropped the sock. Reached for you, hands framing your face so gently.
“Baby,” he whispered, awed. “We’re really doing this again?”
“Looks like it.”
Then he kissed you. Deep and warm and grateful. He pulled you into his arms like he could hold the whole moment in place.
Your daughter tugged at his shirt. “Can I name it Princess Berry Snowflake now?”
He crouched to her level, one hand still around your waist, the other ruffling her hair. “You can suggest it,” he said seriously. “But we’re gonna need a shortlist.”
She grinned and threw her arms around both of you, squished in the middle, her face against your growing belly like she already knew her little world had changed forever.
Later that night, you lay on your side in bed, tucked into Sunghoon’s chest, his hand resting over your stomach. You weren’t showing yet, but his thumb brushed there like something sacred was already growing beneath his palm.
“She knew,” you whispered.
“She always knows,” he murmured. “She’s definitely your kid.”
You laughed. “She’s absolutely your kid. The drama? The confidence? The full announcement before we even confirmed it?”
“Okay,” he said, grinning. “Maybe she’s equal parts.”
You turned your head to look up at him. “Are you scared?”
He was quiet for a moment. Then: “No. Just… overwhelmed. In a good way. Like I didn’t know I could love this much again. But I do. Already.”
Your heart swelled so fast you thought it might split open. “I’m glad it’s with you,” you said softly.
Sunghoon pulled you closer. “There’s no one else I’d want to do this life with.”
And in the quiet, warm dark, with your daughter sleeping down the hall and a future just beginning inside you— You knew: You were already a family...and somehow, impossibly, it was about to grow even more beautiful.
You and Sunghoon had decided to make it special for your daughter—something cute and lowkey for just the three of you. You bought vanilla cupcakes with white frosting from a local bakery and had them fill the center with either pink or blue cream. You let her hold the box the whole ride home. She carried it like it was a crown jewel.
Sunghoon set up the camera—“Just for us,” he said, even though you knew he’d end up watching it every night like a dork. The three of you sat on the couch with matching anticipation. Your daughter’s little fingers peeled back the wrapper like it was Christmas morning.
She bit into the cupcake. Blue. Bright, unmistakable, boy blue. Silence. Not even a blink. Just…staring at it like it personally offended her. You and Sunghoon exchanged a look, trying not to laugh.
Finally, she frowned. “Why is it blue?”
Sunghoon gently leaned in. “That means it’s a baby brother, sweet pea.”
Another beat of silence. Then she gasped, mouth full of frosting. “I ordered a sister.”
You broke. Sunghoon clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the laugh bursting out of him.
“I—baby, we can’t really order siblings,” you managed, kneeling beside her. “Sometimes you just get the surprise.”
She blinked slowly. “But he’s not gonna like princesses. Or sparkles. Or tea parties.”
“We don’t know that,” Sunghoon said, still grinning. “He might love tea parties.”
Your daughter narrowed her eyes. “Does he even know about unicorns?”
You pressed your lips together, trying to stay serious. “Probably not yet. But maybe you can teach him.”
She pouted and crossed her arms. “He better like glitter.”
The next few days… were rough. She started referring to your bump as “the boy problem.” She put her dolls in a “girls only” basket. She told the grocery store cashier, “We’re having a brother, but it’s not my fault.”
Sunghoon was beside himself. “I think I just got out-stubborned by a four-year-old.”
“Congratulations,” you replied. “You met your match.”
Everything changed the night she felt him kick. You were reading in bed while she lay curled up beside you, hand on your belly like always. This time, your baby rolled—a slow, strong nudge right beneath her palm.
She gasped. Eyes wide. “Was that him?”
You smiled softly. “Yeah, that was him saying hi.”
Her hand stayed there. Still. In awe. Then: “Hi, baby,” she whispered. “It’s me. Your big sister.”
Your heart cracked clean open.
She looked up at you. “Can I still teach him about rainbows?”
You kissed the top of her head. “He would be so lucky to learn from you.”
She rested her cheek on your belly, little fingers petting it gently. “I guess he can come,” she said, already half-asleep. “But only if he shares his snacks.”
And when he finally arrived… She wore her fanciest dress to the hospital. Brought a handmade card. Demanded to be the first to hold him “because I’m the boss of siblings now.”
She held him like a sacred treasure—like something she didn’t know she needed until he looked up at her with wide, blinking eyes and wrinkled fingers.
Sunghoon watched you both from across the room, hair messy, eyes soft, daughter in one arm and son in the other, as if his whole heart had just doubled overnight.
“She’s got him,” you whispered.
“She always will,” he whispered back.
Later that night at home, you tucked her into bed and she clutched her stuffed unicorn close, eyes heavy.
“Mama?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I think he’s okay. The boy problem.”
You smiled. “I think he’s more like a boy miracle.”
She yawned. “Mmm… okay. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”
And as she drifted to sleep, Sunghoon leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, watching the whole scene with a quiet kind of awe.
“You realize,” he whispered, slipping his hand into yours, “we’re completely outnumbered now.”
You nodded. “Yes. Yes we are.”
You blinked awake to the soft patter of water on the roof and Sunghoon’s arm already slung around your waist, his breath warm on your neck. The baby was still snoozing in the bassinet beside the bed, soft sighs and tiny baby grunts filling the quiet.
And then, at exactly 6:12 AM, came the tiny thump-thump-thump of feet down the hallway. Your daughter climbed into bed with the urgency of someone who just remembered she had parents to cuddle.
“Good morning,” you whispered sleepily.
She wriggled between you and Sunghoon like a kitten, hugging your pillow and mumbling, “It’s raining. That means it’s a snuggle day.”
Sunghoon groaned softly but smiled into your shoulder. “She’s not wrong.”
By 9 AM, no one had moved far from bed. The baby had joined the pile after his morning feed, curled against Sunghoon’s chest, making soft content sounds as Sunghoon hummed gently and rubbed his back in little circles.
Your daughter insisted on reading The Bear Who Forgot It Was Rainy aloud, even though she mostly made up the words and occasionally paused to whisper, “Did you hear that? That was a really good narrator voice.”
You and Sunghoon shared soft looks over the top of her head.
Later, the rain got heavier. No cartoons. No rush. Just warm blankets, warm skin, and your husband shifting everyone closer like he wanted to keep you all safe from the outside world.
“Remember when rain meant we had to cancel plans?” you murmured.
Sunghoon smiled against your temple. “Now it just means pajamas and babies and crumbs in the bed.”
“Oh—so many crumbs,” you said, catching your daughter sneak a cracker. She grinned with no remorse.
The baby babbled something halfway between a gurgle and a coo, reaching for his sister’s hair with grabby hands.
“Careful, little man,” Sunghoon said softly. “That’s sacred territory.”
She leaned in, letting her baby brother grab a chunk of her ponytail with delight. “He’s trying to say hi with his fists.”
“Just like you used to,” you teased.
Around midday, the four of you had migrated to the couch. Sunghoon had one arm around you, the baby dozing across his chest again, and your daughter curled into the crook of your side with a fuzzy blanket over her lap.
“You know,” he murmured, voice low and a little husky from the slow day, “I used to think rest days were boring.” You turned to look at him. He smiled. “But now I think they’re my favorite.”
Later, when the storm softened into a drizzle, you all stayed put anyway. The living room a mess of baby socks, storybooks, crumbs, and love. Sunghoon ran his fingers through your daughter’s hair as she drifted to sleep on your lap. The baby sighed in his arms like he belonged there forever. You leaned into him, heart heavy in the best way.
“This is it,” he whispered. “This is the dream.”
You nodded. “No reservations. No shoes. Just rain and us.”
And from under his breath, sleepy and soft: “Let’s do nothing again tomorrow.”
Hii girll 🥹🥹 i hope it isnt too much work but for your swag girl event, could you do niki + 20 + like their baby climbing on him while hes lying on their bed to wake him up on a weekend 🥹 i hope you get the vision and THANK YOUUU
honoka peeked in first, her blanket dragging behind her.
"papa..?"
no response.
she stepped inside quietly, climbed onto the bed, her hands pressing into the mattress as she made her way over to him.
he didn't move.
still asleep.
she leaned closer, then poked his cheek.
once. nothing. then again.
he shifted slightly, but didn't wake up completely.
she frowned. then climbed right on top of him, small hands grabbing his shirt.
"up!"
he groaned softly.
"five more minutes, princess.."
she shook her head immediately.
"no!"
then poked his cheek again, more determined to wake him up. he blinked slowly, barely opening his eyes.
"what are you doing, honoka.."
"up, papa.." she said again, a bit quieter now.
he let out a slow breath, one hand resting on her back to steady her.
"too early…"
she didn't move.
just stayed there, waiting.
he closed his eyes again..
then suddenly pulled her down with him.
she made a small sound as she landed against his chest, blanket tangled between them. he wrapped an arm around her straight away.
"you're staying here, honoka."
she squirmed once.
then stopped.
her small hands gripping his shirt, face tucked into him.
"papa.."
he gave a faint smile, still half asleep.
"hm.."
and then.
soft footsteps.
"what are you guys doing..?" your voice came from the doorway.
you were standing there, leaning slightly against the frame. your arms were crossed, a smile creeping onto your face.
honoka lifted her head a little.
"mama!"
you walked over slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. you brushed her hair back gently.
"honoka.. did you wake papa up?"
she didn't answer properly, just looked at him.
"she climbed me.." ni-ki replied for her, his eyes still closed.
you laughed quietly, looking at them.
"i can see that."
honoka shifted immediately when you opened your arms, reaching for you.
you took her easily, holding her close.
ni-ki loosened his hold just enough for her to move, but didn't fully let go.
"five minutes.." ni-ki murmured.
you raised a brow. "you said that 20 minutes ago, riki."
he sighed.
"don't expose me, babe.."
you smiled, shifting honoka on your lap.
the room went quiet again. and eventually, all three of you just stayed there.
tangled with love.
花 ──── IM SORRY IF THIS IS BAD OKAY..... i've done something similar to this before and i didn't want to make it the same but if u wanna read the og click here 🤍 AND ALSO THIS IS THE FIRST REQUEST OF THE SWAG GIRL EVENT SO EVERYONE CHEERRRR
You were folding laundry on the couch, Jisung playing with stacking cups beside you, when Jihoon plopped down dramatically next to you—cheeks slightly pink, eyes a little too bright.
“Mommy…” she said, drawing out the word.
You hummed. “Yes, baby?”
She leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. “There’s a boy in daycare.” You froze.
Not visibly But internally?
Oh.
“Oh?” you said carefully, biting back a smile. Jisung looked up at the tone shift like something important was happening. “Boy?” he echoed randomly.
Jihoon nodded seriously. “His name is Minjae. He shared his snacks with me.”
You pressed your lips together.
“That’s very sweet of him.” “And…” she hesitated, playing with her fingers, “…he said my hair is pretty.”
You definitely smiled now.
From the kitchen, there was the faint clatter of something dropping. You didn’t look. But you knew.
Sunghoon was listening.
Jihoon leaned even closer.
“Mommy…” “Yes?” “How did you know you liked Appa?”
Silence.
From the kitchen— another clank.
You finally glanced over your shoulder. Sunghoon stood there, frozen mid-motion, holding a glass he definitely wasn’t washing anymore.
Eyes wide. Expression unreadable. But his ears?
Red. Very red.
You bit back a laugh and turned back to Jihoon. “Well…” you started softly, “I felt happy when I was with him.” Jihoon blinked. “Happy?”
“Mhm. And I liked talking to him. I wanted to spend more time with him.” Jihoon thought deeply. “I like talking to Minjae too…” From the kitchen:
“…Mm.”
That was not a normal mm.
That was a disapproving father noise.
Sunghoon walked into the living room like he *just happened* to be passing by. “Oh,” he said casually. “What are you talking about?”
Jihoon turned instantly. “Appa! There’s a boy in my daycare!” You watched his soul leave his body.
“…I see.” Jihoon smiled brightly. “He’s nice! He shares snacks!”
Sunghoon nodded slowly. “That’s… basic decency.”
You choked on your laughter. Jihoon frowned. “And he said my hair is pretty!” Sunghoon sat down beside her immediately. Too quickly.
“Jihoon,” he said gently but seriously, “you are pretty. Everyone knows that.”
She beamed. “I know!”
You snorted. But Sunghoon wasn’t done.
“And,” he continued, voice calm but very intentional, “you don’t have to like someone just because they say nice things. Okay?”
Jihoon blinked. “…But Mommy likes you.”
You turned away, shoulders shaking.
Sunghoon sputtered. “That’s—this is different—your mom and I—”
He looked at you helplessly.
You smiled sweetly.
“Go on, Appa. Explain.”
He glared at you lightly.
Traitor.
Sunghoon turned back to Jihoon, softening immediately. “What else does this… Minjae do?”
Jihoon counted on her fingers. “He shares snacks… he plays with me… he gave me his crayon…”
Sunghoon nodded. “…Okay.”
A pause. Then— “Does he wash his hands properly?”
You burst out laughing.
“Sunghoon!”
Jihoon looked confused. “I think so?”
Sunghoon leaned back, crossing his arms.
“Hm.” He was pouting. Actually pouting.
Jihoon crawled onto his lap suddenly, cupping his face with her tiny hands. “Appa,” she said seriously, “you’re still my favorite.”
He melted. Completely. “…I am?”
She nodded. “The most.”
Jisung waddled over and climbed onto him too.
“Appaaaa.” Sunghoon wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling them close.
“Good,” he mumbled softly. “That’s how it should be.” You leaned against him, smiling.
“Jealous?” you teased. He glanced at you, still holding the kids tightly.
“…A little.” You laughed, kissing his cheek.
“Don’t worry. You’ll always be her first love.”
He looked down at Jihoon, brushing her hair back gently. “…Yeah,” he whispered. “I know.”
But still— Later that night, you caught him muttering under his breath while folding Jihoon’s clothes:
“…Minjae…”
And you knew. Appa was not done being huffy anytime soon
-
The house was still quiet when you woke up.
Soft morning light slipped through the curtains, warm and gentle, the kind that made everything feel slower.
You didn’t even have to open your eyes fully to know Sunghoon was already awake.
You felt it—
his hand brushing your hair away from your face,
his fingers tracing soft, absent patterns on your arm,
his presence close, warm, familiar.
“Good morning,” he murmured.
Your lips curved.
“Good morning…”
You stretched slightly, and he immediately moved—adjusting the blanket, tucking it around you like you were something fragile.
“You should stay in bed a little longer,” he said quietly.
You cracked one eye open, amused.
“Why?”
“Because I said so,” he replied, already reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand. “Drink first.”
You laughed softly but obeyed, taking the glass from him.
He watched you drink like it was the most important task in the world.
And then—
“…So.”
Ah.
There it was.
You hid your smile.
“Yes?”
He leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed—but his hand still rested on your thigh, thumb gently rubbing circles.
“That Minjae.”
You bit your lip.
“Mhm?”
Sunghoon exhaled slowly.
“I’m just saying… I don’t trust him.”
You turned fully to him now, propping your head on your hand.
“He’s five.”
“Exactly,” Sunghoon said immediately. “Too early.”
You laughed.
“For what? Sharing snacks?”
“For… everything,” he muttered.
But even as he spoke, he was adjusting your pillow, smoothing your hair again, pulling the blanket higher over your shoulders.
“You’re unbelievable,” you teased.
“I’m being reasonable,” he insisted.
“You’re being jealous.”
“I’m being a father.”
You raised a brow.
“A jealous father.”
He clicked his tongue softly, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.
“…You liked me first, you know.”
You blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You liked me first,” he repeated, a hint of a smirk now.
You laughed.
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
He shrugged, but his voice softened.
“I just… don’t want her growing up too fast.”
There it was.
You reached up, cupping his cheek.
“She’s not. She just thinks someone is nice.”
He leaned into your touch without thinking.
“…Still.”
You smiled.
“Come on, Appa. Let’s go see your ‘competition’ later.”
He groaned.
“I don’t have competition.”
“You literally brought it up first thing in the morning.”
pairing: Single Dad! Sunghoon x Single Mom! Reader
wc: 9,545
synopsis: Shy kids spark fearless friendships, and two single parents find love where they least expect it. Family isn’t just born—it’s chosen.
rie’s notes: this has been on my drafts for a while and ERRORS AHEAD! enjoy~ feedbacks are highly appreciated!
disclaimer: this fic is not based from the kdrama hehe
Park Sunghoon never expected to be called into his daughter's kindergarten class for a “parent-teacher meeting,” much less one involving another child. Jiwoo had never been the type to cause trouble—she was quiet, polite, and more likely to cry over a lost stuffed animal than pick a fight.
Yet here he was, stepping into the colorful classroom, still in his work attire, sleeves rolled up from a long day at the office. His eyes immediately landed on the woman already seated across from the teacher.
She looked just as confused as he felt.
Y/N.
Her gaze flickered toward him briefly before returning to the two children sitting cross-legged on the play mat. Sunghoon followed her gaze. His daughter, Jiwoo, and Y/N’s son, Minjun, were whispering to each other, exchanging giggles like they shared a lifelong secret.
“Ah, Mr. Park, please have a seat,” the teacher greeted with a warm smile. “Now that you’re both here, I just wanted to address something that happened today.”
Sunghoon took the chair beside Y/N, feeling the awkward tension settle between them. She shifted slightly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He caught a faint scent of vanilla—probably from her shampoo.
The teacher cleared her throat, drawing their attention back.
“It seems that Minjun stepped in to protect Jiwoo from some teasing today,” she explained gently. “Some students made fun of her pigtails, saying they made her look like a baby. Minjun defended her, saying Jiwoo was like his little sister, and no one was allowed to bully her.”
Sunghoon’s fingers instinctively curled into his palm. His little girl had been teased? Jiwoo rarely spoke up for herself, and the thought of her being targeted—no matter how small—made his chest tighten.
Beside him, Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That sounds like Minjun,” she murmured. “He’s always had a hero complex.”
The teacher chuckled. “It didn’t end there, though. Another student questioned Minjun, saying he was ‘too small’ to protect anyone, and Jiwoo immediately fired back, saying Minjun oppa was the strongest boy she knew.”
Sunghoon blinked in surprise. Jiwoo—the same girl who once cried over stepping on an ant—had stood up for someone?
Y/N exhaled a small laugh, shaking her head. “Of course she did,” she muttered, a smile tugging at her lips.
For the first time, Sunghoon glanced at her properly. Up close, he noticed the subtle exhaustion in her eyes, the faint lines of stress that most parents carried. He wondered if she, too, had spent nights trying to calm a feverish child, or woken up to a tiny human climbing into her bed at three in the morning.
The teacher continued, “Their bond is quite remarkable. But I wanted to bring this to your attention so we could encourage their kindness while also ensuring they don’t get too involved in conflicts.”
Sunghoon nodded. “Of course. I’ll talk to Jiwoo about it.”
Y/N hummed in agreement. “Same with Minjun.”
As the meeting wrapped up, they stood awkwardly outside the classroom, watching their kids run ahead to the playground. The silence between them stretched, neither quite sure how to proceed now that the formalities were over.
Sunghoon cleared his throat. “So, uh… Minjun, huh?”
Y/N turned to him, raising a brow. “What about him?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “He’s… very protective.”
She huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, sometimes a little too much. But I guess it’s nice to know Jiwoo has someone looking out for her.”
Sunghoon nodded slowly. “Yeah… it is.”
More silence.
Jiwoo and Minjun were now attempting to climb the jungle gym together, laughing every time one of them stumbled. It was an easy kind of friendship—the kind Sunghoon vaguely remembered from childhood, before life got complicated with responsibilities and heartaches.
Sunghoon shifted awkwardly. He wasn’t used to making small talk, especially not with another parent. He had been so focused on work and raising Jiwoo that socializing beyond casual greetings at drop-offs wasn’t really part of his routine.
“Um,” Y/N spoke first, surprising him. “Do you… work nearby?”
He blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Uh, yeah. I run a business in the city.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head. “What kind of business?”
“Tech.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s, uh, mostly software development.”
She nodded, seemingly impressed. “That sounds complicated.”
Sunghoon let out a breathy chuckle. “It is. But I guess it’s better than some of the jobs I had before.”
“Like what?”
He hesitated before admitting, “I used to be an athlete.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Really?”
“Figure skating.”
Y/N blinked, then looked him up and down, as if reevaluating him. “That… actually makes sense. You look like someone who’d be good at that.”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
She smirked. “You just… have that ‘cold perfectionist’ vibe.”
Sunghoon scoffed. “I’m not cold.”
“Really? Because you barely spoke for the first ten minutes of the meeting.”
“I was processing.”
Y/N laughed, and something in his chest loosened.
For the first time in a long time, he found himself enjoying a conversation with someone outside of work. There was something easy about talking to Y/N—even if it was still slightly awkward, even if they were just two parents trying to navigate an unexpected friendship between their kids.
After a beat, she glanced at him again. “Do you… want to exchange numbers? You know, in case the kids want to set up a playdate or something?”
Sunghoon hesitated for half a second before pulling out his phone. “Yeah. That sounds… practical.”
She grinned. “Practical, huh?”
He rolled his eyes but felt the corners of his lips twitch.
As they exchanged contacts, Minjun suddenly ran up to them, panting. “Mom! Jiwoo and I want to have a playdate this weekend!”
Jiwoo appeared beside him, nodding eagerly. “Yes! Please?”
Sunghoon and Y/N exchanged amused glances before Y/N shrugged. “Well, I guess we don’t really have a choice, do we?”
Sunghoon sighed dramatically. “Looks like we’re stuck with each other now.”
Y/N smirked. “Guess so.”
And just like that, something new began.
A friendship.
A connection.
The weekend arrived faster than expected, and before Sunghoon knew it, he was stepping into a cozy family café with Jiwoo’s small hand clasped tightly in his. The place was lively but not overwhelmingly crowded—parents chatted over coffee while their kids ran around the brightly colored indoor playground, laughter echoing through the space.
Y/N was already there, seated at a booth near the play area, watching as Minjun excitedly pointed out the different slides and climbing structures. When she spotted Sunghoon and Jiwoo, she waved them over with a warm smile.
“You made it,” she said as Jiwoo slid into the booth beside Minjun, the two kids already chatting animatedly.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon replied, scanning the menu before setting it down. “This place is nice. I didn’t even know it existed.”
Y/N chuckled. “That’s because you probably don’t get out much.”
He scoffed. “I get out.”
She raised a brow. “For something other than work?”
Sunghoon opened his mouth, then closed it. “…That’s beside the point.”
She laughed, and for some reason, he didn’t mind being teased.
After ordering drinks—coffee for the parents, juice for the kids—Minjun and Jiwoo took off toward the play area, leaving Sunghoon and Y/N with a rare moment of quiet. They watched as their children climbed the soft jungle gym, giggling as they chased each other through tunnels and down slides.
“They really are inseparable, huh?” Y/N mused, stirring her coffee.
Sunghoon nodded, taking a sip of his own. “Yeah. It’s… nice. Jiwoo’s always been a little shy, so it’s good to see her open up like this.”
Y/N hummed. “Minjun’s always had that effect on people. He’s been trying to ‘take care’ of others since he could talk. I think it’s his way of making up for—” She paused, shaking her head. “Never mind.”
Sunghoon didn’t push. He understood all too well what it was like to avoid certain topics.
Their conversation drifted to safer subjects—parenting struggles, favorite kids’ movies, the absurdity of some kindergarten rules. It was easy, effortless, even with the occasional awkward pause.
Then, a small voice interrupted their moment of peace.
“Jiwoo, where’s your mommy?”
Sunghoon’s grip on his cup tightened slightly as he turned to see Minjun looking at Jiwoo with innocent curiosity.
Jiwoo blinked, her small hands gripping the edge of the play structure. “I don’t have one,” she said simply.
Minjun frowned. “But… everyone has a mommy.”
Sunghoon felt a familiar ache settle in his chest, but before he could step in, Jiwoo continued, tilting her head as if deep in thought.
“I only have Daddy,” she said matter-of-factly. “He does everything. He braids my hair, packs my lunch, and even sings bedtime songs—though he’s not very good at it.”
Sunghoon nearly choked on his coffee.
Minjun nodded in understanding. “Oh. That’s okay! My mommy does everything too. I don’t have a daddy.”
Jiwoo’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Minjun nodded again, looking down at his feet. “Mommy says he’s not here.”
Jiwoo considered this for a moment before reaching out and taking Minjun’s hand. “It’s okay. You can have my daddy too!”
Sunghoon and Y/N both froze.
Minjun’s face lit up. “Really?”
Jiwoo nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Daddy is the best! He makes yummy pancakes and gives piggyback rides. You can borrow him if you want.”
Y/N covered her mouth, stifling a laugh. Sunghoon, on the other hand, could only stare, his ears turning red.
“Wait a second—” he started, but Minjun was already grinning.
“Okay! Then you can have my mommy too,” Minjun declared. “She gives the best hugs and always makes sure I have warm socks. She can be your mommy when you need one!”
Jiwoo gasped. “Really?”
Minjun nodded proudly. “Yes! We can share!”
At this point, Y/N lost it, dissolving into laughter. Sunghoon groaned, running a hand down his face. “This is not how it works, kids.”
“But why not?” Jiwoo pouted.
“Yeah!” Minjun crossed his arms. “It makes sense to me.”
Sunghoon looked helplessly at Y/N, who wiped away a tear from laughing. She met his gaze, amusement twinkling in her eyes.
“Well, what do you think, Daddy?” she teased.
He groaned again, muttering under his breath. “I am never living this down.”
Y/N smirked, sipping her coffee. “Nope.”
As their kids resumed playing, Sunghoon found himself sneaking glances at Y/N, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.
Maybe—just maybe—this playdate wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
The playdate lasted longer than either parent anticipated. What was supposed to be a quick meet-up turned into hours of laughter, spilled juice, and stories exchanged over cooling coffee. The café buzzed with life, but Sunghoon and Y/N were caught in their own little world—occasionally interrupted by their children, who kept finding new ways to drag them into their games.
“Mommy, watch me!” Minjun called as he climbed up the jungle gym.
Y/N turned, ready to cheer him on, when Jiwoo grabbed Sunghoon’s hand. “Daddy, let’s play too!”
Sunghoon blinked. “Huh?”
“Come on!” Jiwoo insisted, already pulling him toward the play area.
Minjun grinned. “Yeah! You too, Mommy!”
Y/N laughed, but before she could protest, Minjun was dragging her along. Within seconds, both adults found themselves standing awkwardly in the middle of a room full of bouncing, giggling children.
Sunghoon looked around, slightly horrified. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”
Y/N smirked. “What, afraid of a little fun?”
He scoffed. “I’m not afraid. I just don’t think I’ll fit in these tiny tunnels.”
“Oh, come on.” Y/N nudged him playfully before turning to the kids. “What should we make them do?”
Minjun and Jiwoo huddled together in deep discussion before perking up. “Tag!”
Y/N laughed. “Tag it is.”
Before Sunghoon could react, Jiwoo poked his leg. “You’re it!”
And just like that, she and Minjun ran off squealing, leaving Sunghoon standing there, dumbfounded.
Y/N gave him a teasing smile before dashing away. “Better start running, Dad of the Year!”
Sunghoon groaned but took off after them, his long legs giving him an advantage. The next few minutes were a blur of laughter, squeals, and near-misses as he chased after the two kids and an annoyingly fast Y/N. Jiwoo and Minjun worked together to evade capture, while Y/N effortlessly avoided him, throwing playful taunts over her shoulder.
By the time they all collapsed onto the padded mats, out of breath and laughing, Sunghoon realized something strange—he was actually having fun.
It had been so long since he let loose like this, so long since he laughed just for the sake of it.
And it was because of them.
Because of her.
After that day, playdates became a regular thing.
Some days, they met at the park, where Jiwoo and Minjun raced each other on the slides while their parents sat on a nearby bench, slowly peeling away the layers of awkwardness. Other times, it was Y/N’s apartment, where she made snacks while Sunghoon helped Minjun with his homework. And sometimes, it was Sunghoon’s home, where Jiwoo proudly showed off her toy collection and Minjun tried to teach her how to ride a scooter in the hallway.
Each visit brought them closer.
Sunghoon learned that Y/N was a hopeless romantic who cried at every movie, even the animated ones. Y/N discovered that Sunghoon had a habit of talking to himself when he was focused—muttering under his breath like he was coaching himself through life.
He found out that she loved early morning walks, coffee way too sweet, and her son more than anything in the world. She learned that he wasn’t as intimidating as he looked, that he was secretly terrible at cooking, and that every night, without fail, he checked on Jiwoo at least three times before going to bed.
And just like that, an unspoken rhythm formed between them.
Neither of them talked about it, but something was shifting.
It wasn’t just about the kids anymore.
One evening, after a particularly long day, Sunghoon and Y/N took their usual seats at the café while Jiwoo and Minjun played. The kids had been extra energetic, and both parents were exhausted—but content.
Y/N stretched her arms above her head with a small groan. “I swear, I’m aging ten years every time Minjun decides to climb something he shouldn’t.”
Sunghoon smirked. “Tell me about it. Last week, Jiwoo tried to ‘fly’ off the couch. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”
She laughed, shaking her head. Then, as if something had been on her mind, she hesitated before speaking.
“Hey, Sunghoon?”
“Hm?”
Y/N twirled her straw between her fingers, eyes flickering to the playground before settling back on him. “Do you ever… think about how different things would’ve been if—” She paused. “If you weren’t doing this alone?”
Sunghoon’s expression faltered slightly.
She didn’t push, but he knew exactly what she meant.
Did he ever think about what life would’ve been like if Jiwoo had both parents? If he didn’t have to figure everything out by himself? If things hadn’t… ended the way they did?
He let out a slow breath. “Yeah.”
Y/N gave him a small smile. “Me too.”
There was a quiet understanding between them.
No pity. No judgment. Just two people who knew what it was like to carry everything on their own.
After a moment, Y/N exhaled, forcing a chuckle. “Sorry. That was kinda heavy for a playdate.”
Sunghoon shook his head. “It’s fine.” He met her gaze, voice softer now. “Really.”
Y/N’s eyes lingered on his for a second too long, something unreadable flickering behind them before she looked away.
But before either of them could say anything else, a small voice interrupted them.
“Mommy?”
They turned to see Minjun standing beside the table, looking up at Y/N with curiosity. Jiwoo stood next to him, her little hand wrapped around his wrist.
Y/N smiled. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Minjun hesitated, then finally asked, “Do you think Jiwoo can be my real sister one day?”
Sunghoon choked on his coffee.
Y/N’s eyes widened. “Minjun—”
But the little boy was serious. “I mean, she already feels like my sister. So can she be my real sister?”
Jiwoo nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I like that idea!”
Sunghoon was still coughing.
Y/N, however, managed to keep a straight face. Barely. “Uh… well… that’s not really how it works, sweetheart.”
Minjun frowned. “Why not?”
Jiwoo crossed her arms. “Yeah! Why not?”
Y/N stammered, looking at Sunghoon for help, but he was too busy trying to regain his composure.
With a sigh, she finally said, “Because—um—things like that take time.”
Minjun seemed to think about this before nodding. “Okay! Then I’ll wait.”
Jiwoo beamed. “Me too!”
Sunghoon groaned, dropping his head onto the table. “I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?”
Y/N patted his shoulder, laughing. “Nope.”
But even as the kids ran off, giggling about their “future sibling plans,” Sunghoon couldn’t help but glance at Y/N again.
And for the first time, the idea didn’t seem so impossible.
A week had passed since Minjun and Jiwoo’s unexpected proposal, and neither child had let it go. If anything, they only got bolder—holding hands while walking to class, declaring each other as family to their friends, and once even trying to convince their teacher that they should be seated together at all times.
Sunghoon and Y/N were still recovering from the secondhand embarrassment.
But aside from their children’s antics, things between them had settled into something… easy. Comfortable.
Which was probably why Sunghoon didn’t hesitate when he found himself in loaded for work one afternoon.
Sunghoon: Are you home?
Y/N: Yeah, why?
Sunghoon: Can I ask you a favor?
Y/N: Depends. How illegal is it?
Sunghoon rolled his eyes but found himself smiling.
Sunghoon: Not illegal. Just need someone to watch Jiwoo tonight. I have a work thing I can’t skip.
It took less than ten seconds for Y/N to reply.
Y/N: Of course! Minjun will be thrilled. You don’t even have to ask.
Sunghoon exhaled, relief washing over him. He’d been scrambling to find a sitter for the past hour, but Jiwoo had never stayed with anyone else before. He trusted Y/N more than anyone else, and Jiwoo was already comfortable with her and Minjun—it was the best option.
Still, asking for favors wasn’t exactly his strong suit.
Sunghoon: Thanks. I owe you one.
Y/N: You owe me ten, but who’s counting?
He chuckled, shaking his head.
Later that evening, Sunghoon arrived at Y/N’s apartment with Jiwoo in tow.
The second the door opened, Minjun let out an excited gasp. “Jiwoo!”
Jiwoo barely had time to react before Minjun grabbed her hand, already pulling her inside. “Come on! I set up a fort in my room!”
Sunghoon watched, slightly stunned, as Jiwoo disappeared into the apartment without so much as a glance back.
“Well,” Y/N said, amused, “I guess we know how she feels about staying over.”
Sunghoon sighed. “Should I be offended?”
Y/N grinned. “Probably.”
After handing over Jiwoo’s overnight bag and making Y/N promise to call him if anything happened, Sunghoon reluctantly turned to leave. But just as he stepped out the door, a small voice called after him.
“Daddy?”
Jiwoo peeked out from Minjun’s room, eyes wide.
Sunghoon immediately crouched down. “What is it, baby?”
For the first time that night, she looked unsure. “Are you coming back soon?”
His chest tightened.
Even though Jiwoo was comfortable here, it was still her first time sleeping somewhere new. Sunghoon hesitated, glancing at Y/N.
Y/N smiled gently. “You can call him before bed, sweetheart.”
Jiwoo perked up. “Okay!”
Sunghoon ruffled her hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Be good.”
“I always am!” Jiwoo said proudly.
Y/N snorted. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
Sunghoon gave Jiwoo one last hug before standing. As he turned to Y/N, something warm settled in his chest—something dangerously close to gratitude and something else he wasn’t quite ready to name.
“Thanks again,” he murmured.
Y/N shrugged like it was nothing. “Anytime.”
And as Sunghoon walked away, he found himself wondering if he really would take her up on that offer.
Sunghoon was halfway through reviewing reports when his phone buzzed. Seeing Jiwoo’s name flash on the screen, he quickly picked up.
“Hey, baby,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Everything okay?”
“Daddy!” Jiwoo’s excited voice came through, followed by Minjun’s laughter in the background. “Minjun’s room is so cool! We made a fort, and it has fairy lights and pillows and everything!”
Sunghoon chuckled. “That sounds fun. Are you having a good time?”
“Uh-huh!” Jiwoo hummed, then lowered her voice like she was telling him a secret. “Mommy—oh! I mean, Minjun’s mommy—helped us build it.”
Sunghoon’s breath hitched at the slip. He glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and he could already hear the sleepiness in her voice.
“Are you in bed now?” he asked softly.
“Mm-hmm. Minjun let me borrow his extra blanket.”
There was a brief rustling sound before another voice came through. “Hi, Mr. Park!”
Sunghoon smiled. “Hey, buddy. Taking good care of Jiwoo?”
“Of course!” Minjun declared proudly. “She’s my baby sister.”
Sunghoon heard Y/N’s soft laughter in the background, making his chest warm.
“Alright, you two, say goodnight,” Y/N said. “Jiwoo, your dad has work.”
Jiwoo yawned. “Goodnight, Daddy.”
“Goodnight, baby. Sleep well.”
As he ended the call, Sunghoon exhaled, his heart feeling unexpectedly full.
After the call, Y/N was helping her brush her teeth when the little girl suddenly paused, staring at her reflection in the mirror with a thoughtful expression.
Y/N noticed right away. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
Jiwoo turned to her, toothbrush still in her mouth. “Can I ask you something?” she mumbled through the foam.
Y/N smiled, taking a tissue to wipe the excess toothpaste from the corner of Jiwoo’s lips. “Of course. You can ask me anything.”
Jiwoo spit into the sink, rinsed her mouth, and then turned to Y/N with big, hopeful eyes. “Can I… can I call you Mommy?”
Y/N’s heart nearly stopped.
She blinked, taking in the little girl’s earnest expression, the slight nervousness in her voice. Jiwoo had always been affectionate, clinging to her the way she did Minjun, but this… this was different. This was something Jiwoo had thought about. Something she wanted.
Y/N’s throat tightened.
She crouched down to meet Jiwoo’s gaze properly, tucking her damp hair behind her ear. “You really want that, baby?”
Jiwoo nodded eagerly. “Uh-huh! It feels right! And I already feel like you’re my mommy, so… can I?”
Y/N’s heart melted. But she knew this was something bigger than just her and Jiwoo—this was something Sunghoon needed to be okay with, too.
She smiled gently. “You know what, sweetheart? Let me talk to your daddy first, okay?”
Jiwoo’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Why?”
“Because Daddy is very important to you, and I want to make sure he’s okay with it too,” Y/N explained, brushing her fingers through Jiwoo’s soft hair.
Jiwoo thought about it for a second, then nodded. “Okay! But I think he’ll say yes. Daddy likes you a lot.”
Y/N chuckled at her confidence, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll see, baby.”
That night, after tucking Jiwoo and Minjun into bed, Y/N sat on her couch, phone in hand, debating how to phrase the message.
Finally, she took a deep breath and typed:
Y/N: Hey, Jiwoo asked me if she could call me Mommy today… I told her I’d talk to you first. Are you okay with that?
She stared at the message for a moment before hitting send.
It didn’t take long for Sunghoon to reply.
Sunghoon: She asked that?
Y/N: Yeah. She seemed really sure about it.
There was a pause. Then—
Sunghoon: … I was actually wondering when she’d ask. She’s been attached to you since day one.
Y/N smiled, warmth blooming in her chest.
Y/N: So… you’re okay with it?
Sunghoon: Of course I’m okay with it. If Jiwoo wants to call you Mommy, it’s because she sees you as one.
A pause. Then another message.
Sunghoon: And honestly… I don’t think I’d want anyone else to have that role in her life.
Y/N’s breath caught.
She stared at his words, her heart thumping a little faster.
Jiwoo’s question had been unexpected, but Sunghoon’s response? That was what truly made her feel like she was exactly where she was meant to be.
Sunghoon arrived at Y/N’s apartment early the next morning, dressed casually in a sweater and jeans. When he knocked, the door swung open almost immediately, revealing Minjun in his dinosaur pajamas.
“Hi, Mr. Park!” Minjun beamed. “We’re having breakfast!”
Sunghoon smiled. “Good morning, buddy.”
As he stepped inside, his eyes landed on Y/N sitting at the dining table—with Jiwoo on her lap.
She had a comb in one hand, gently brushing through Jiwoo’s tangled hair while the little girl sat patiently, nibbling on a piece of toast.
The sight made Sunghoon pause.
Something about it—Jiwoo looking so at ease, Y/N’s soft, motherly touch—struck him deep in his chest.
For a moment, it felt like coming home.
“Daddy!” Jiwoo’s face lit up when she saw him.
Sunghoon snapped out of his daze, clearing his throat. “Hey, baby. Did you sleep well?”
Jiwoo nodded eagerly. “Minjun’s bed is really comfy!”
Y/N glanced up, smiling. “Morning. Want some coffee?”
Sunghoon blinked. “Uh… sure.”
Before he could say more, Minjun grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the table. “Sit next to me!”
Y/N handed him a fresh cup of coffee while Minjun proudly pointed at their breakfast spread. “We have pancakes, eggs, and toast! Mom made them.”
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at Y/N. “You cook?”
She scoffed playfully. “I survive.”
He chuckled, taking a sip of coffee.
As they ate, Jiwoo and Minjun chatted nonstop—about their fort, their dreams last night, and even their wedding plans (which Sunghoon was still trying to process).
But somewhere in between, as he watched Y/N cut up Jiwoo’s pancake like it was second nature, Sunghoon felt something shift.
Breakfast at Y/N’s apartment felt strangely different from the ones Sunghoon was used to.
At home, mornings were quiet—just him and Jiwoo, half-asleep as they rushed through breakfast before school. But here, the air was filled with laughter, the clinking of plates, and Minjun talking a mile a minute about dinosaurs.
And then there was Y/N.
She wasn’t doing anything extraordinary—just making sure the kids ate properly, cutting Jiwoo’s pancakes the way she liked them, absentmindedly tucking Minjun’s hair behind his ear when it got in his face. But there was something about it—about her—that made Sunghoon feel warm in a way he couldn’t quite place.
Jiwoo giggled beside him, smacking Minjun’s arm playfully. “You eat so fast! Like a T-Rex!”
Minjun gasped dramatically. “T-Rexes don’t eat pancakes! They eat meat!”
Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Then chew properly before you choke, little carnivore.”
Sunghoon smirked. “Do you say that from experience?”
She shot him a look. “I don’t choke, Park.”
He hummed, amused. “Good to know.”
Jiwoo looked between them, her tiny brows furrowing. “Daddy, are you flirting?”
Sunghoon nearly choked on his coffee.
Minjun gasped. “Mommy, what’s flirting?”
Y/N held up a hand. “Nope. Not at the breakfast table.”
The kids whined in protest, but she swiftly changed the subject, asking Minjun if he wanted more orange juice.
Sunghoon shook his head, biting back a grin. This woman is dangerous.
After breakfast, the kids ran off to play, leaving Sunghoon and Y/N to clean up.
As they stood side by side at the sink—her washing, him drying—Sunghoon stole a glance at her.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said. “Watching Jiwoo, making breakfast…”
Y/N shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. Honestly, it was nice.”
“Nice?”
She smiled. “Having another little one around. Minjun loved it. And… I did too.”
Sunghoon’s fingers tightened around the dish towel.
She wasn’t saying much, but somehow, he understood.
Raising a kid alone wasn’t easy. No matter how much love you poured into them, there were always moments of loneliness—the empty chair at the dinner table, the silence after bedtime.
But this morning? It didn’t feel lonely at all.
“You’re really good with her,” he said quietly.
Y/N glanced at him, surprised. “Jiwoo?”
He nodded.
She dried her hands and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “She makes it easy. She’s such a sweetheart.”
Sunghoon huffed a small laugh. “She can be a handful.”
Y/N smirked. “I like handfuls.”
His breath hitched slightly, caught off guard by the way she said it—casual, teasing, but somehow laced with something deeper.
Before he could fire back, Minjun came running in, dragging Jiwoo behind him.
“Mom! Can Jiwoo stay for lunch too?”
Jiwoo’s eyes lit up. “Please, Daddy?”
Y/N glanced between them, about to say something when Sunghoon spoke first.
“How about this,” he offered, leaning against the counter. “Instead of staying in, why don’t we all go out for lunch?”
Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, all of us?”
Sunghoon nodded, glancing down at the two kids, who were now bouncing excitedly.
“Really? We can go together?” Minjun asked, eyes wide.
Sunghoon smirked. “You don’t want to?”
Minjun gasped dramatically. “Of course I do!”
Jiwoo clapped her hands. “Yay! Where are we going?”
Sunghoon looked at Y/N. “That depends. Do you have plans?”
Y/N hesitated. It wasn’t like she had anything else scheduled, but the idea of going out together—like a family—made something flutter in her chest.
Before she could answer, Minjun latched onto her arm, giving her his best puppy-dog eyes. “Please, Mom? I wanna eat with Jiwoo’s daddy, too.”
Y/N sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Alright, alright. Lunch it is.”
Jiwoo and Minjun cheered, running off to get ready, leaving Sunghoon and Y/N standing in the kitchen.
Sunghoon tilted his head. “You’re sure? I don’t want to intrude on your day.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You invited us.”
He huffed a small laugh. “Right.”
Their eyes met, something unspoken lingering in the air.
It wasn’t a date. Just lunch.
But for some reason, it felt like something more.
The mall was bustling with families, couples, and groups of friends enjoying their weekend. Sunghoon walked slightly ahead, one hand in his pocket while the other carried Jiwoo’s small backpack. Beside him, Y/N held onto Minjun’s hand, making sure he didn’t run off in excitement.
They had already stopped by a toy store—something Sunghoon had insisted on when Jiwoo and Minjun pressed their faces against the glass, completely mesmerized.
"You don’t have to—" Y/N had started, but Sunghoon waved her off.
"They deserve it," he had said simply before crouching down to their level. "Alright, you two. Pick something, but don’t go overboard."
Jiwoo had clung to his arm, beaming. "Really, Daddy?!"
"Really," he chuckled, ruffling her hair.
Minjun, on the other hand, looked hesitantly at Y/N. "Is it okay, Mom?"
She sighed, knowing she couldn’t say no when Minjun was practically vibrating with excitement. "Just one, okay?"
The kids had immediately run off to browse, leaving Y/N and Sunghoon to linger near the entrance.
"You didn’t have to do that," she murmured, watching the two excitedly pick out toys.
Sunghoon glanced at her. "I know."
"But you did anyway."
He smirked. "Call it an investment. Keeps them happy, which means we get a peaceful lunch."
Y/N shook her head, but she couldn’t hide the amused smile on her lips.
In the end, Jiwoo picked out a plushie—a chubby little cat she immediately hugged to her chest—while Minjun opted for a toy car set, already planning how he’d race them when they got home.
After paying, Sunghoon handed the bag to Minjun, who looked up at him with awe.
Sunghoon chuckled, giving him a small pat on the head. "Just Sunghoon is fine, kid."
Jiwoo pouted. "But he calls Mommy 'Mom!' Can’t he call you something else too?"
Minjun hummed, thinking. "Can I call you Uncle Hoon?"
Sunghoon blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He looked at Y/N, who was stifling a laugh, then back at Minjun.
"...Yeah," he said, lips twitching. "That works."
With their new toys in hand, they made their way to a casual family-friendly restaurant inside the mall. Jiwoo and Minjun sat side by side, happily showing each other their new things while Y/N and Sunghoon sat across from them, scanning the menu.
Halfway through lunch, an elderly couple at the next table leaned over, smiling warmly.
"You have such a beautiful family," the old woman said kindly. "Your children are adorable."
Y/N choked on her drink, eyes widening. Sunghoon coughed into his fist.
The older man chuckled. "Ah, young love. You remind us of when we were raising our boys."
Sunghoon cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. "Ah, we’re actually not—"
Jiwoo suddenly piped up, flashing a toothy grin. "I love Minjun’s mommy! She’s really nice!"
Minjun nodded enthusiastically. "And Uncle Hoon is super cool!"
The old couple chuckled, completely convinced. "You’re very lucky to have each other," the woman said before turning back to her meal.
Y/N and Sunghoon exchanged a look, both unsure whether to laugh or correct them. Instead, Y/N just shook her head, picking up her drink again.
Sunghoon smirked, leaning slightly toward her. "Guess we make a convincing pair."
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the warmth creeping up her neck.
It was just a misunderstanding. Nothing more.
And yet, for some reason, the idea of them looking like a family didn’t seem so strange at all.
After lunch, they wandered around the mall, letting Jiwoo and Minjun explore. The kids led the way, dragging them from one store to another—first a bookstore, where Jiwoo picked up a picture book about animals, then a game shop where Minjun excitedly pointed out all the racing games he wanted to try someday.
Through it all, Sunghoon and Y/N followed closely, occasionally exchanging amused glances when the kids got too excited.
“You realize we’re basically just funding their happiness today,” Y/N murmured as she watched Minjun beg Jiwoo to pick a game for him to buy ‘next time.’
Sunghoon smirked. “I’ve accepted my fate.”
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’re going to spoil them.”
Sunghoon shrugged. “They deserve it.”
It was such a simple statement, yet something about the way he said it made Y/N pause. He wasn’t just saying it to brush her off—he truly meant it. And for a brief moment, she saw past the charming, slightly teasing father figure and glimpsed the man underneath.
Before she could dwell on it, Jiwoo and Minjun came running back, holding hands.
“Can we get ice cream?” Jiwoo pleaded, eyes sparkling.
“Don’t look at me,” he said. “You’re the one who enforces rules.”
She shot him a look before turning back to the kids. “Fine. But only one scoop each.”
The kids cheered, running ahead toward the food court. Y/N and Sunghoon followed at a slower pace, watching them.
“They really are close,” Y/N mused.
Sunghoon hummed in agreement. “Yeah… It’s nice, though.”
She glanced at him. “Jiwoo’s lucky to have you.”
He looked at her, surprised. “You think so?”
Y/N nodded. “She adores you, you know. I can tell.”
Sunghoon let out a soft chuckle. “I try my best, but sometimes I feel like I’m just figuring it out as I go.”
She smiled. “That’s what being a parent is, isn’t it?”
Sunghoon glanced at Minjun, who was animatedly talking to Jiwoo while they stood in line for ice cream. “Your son’s lucky too.”
Y/N looked at Minjun fondly. “He’s my whole world.”
Sunghoon nodded. “Yeah… I get that.”
For a moment, there was silence between them—not uncomfortable, but something almost… understanding.
And then Jiwoo waved at them excitedly. “Hurry up, slowpokes!”
Y/N laughed. “Alright, alright, we’re coming.”
Sunghoon chuckled beside her.
And just like that, the moment passed, but something about it lingered.
Something neither of them were ready to admit just yet.
Time had passed, and playdates had become a regular occurrence. Whether at Y/N’s place, Sunghoon’s, or even out at parks and cafés, their little group naturally gravitated toward each other. It wasn’t just Jiwoo and Minjun anymore—it was the four of them, moving in sync like a makeshift family.
That realization hit Y/N the hardest when she saw Sunghoon’s fatherly instincts in full force.
They were at her apartment for dinner. She had cooked a simple meal, letting the kids play while she and Sunghoon set the table. It had been a long day, and she didn’t have the energy to go out, so Sunghoon had suggested they just eat together at home.
It felt easy. Normal.
And then, in a split second, normal almost turned into disaster.
Minjun, in his excitement, had grabbed his fork and started waving it around as he talked animatedly to Jiwoo. In one careless movement, he nearly jabbed himself in the cheek with it.
But before Y/N could even react, Sunghoon was already there.
“Hey!” His voice was firm, but not harsh. In an instant, he had reached over, gripping Minjun’s wrist gently but firmly, stopping the fork just inches away from his face. His usually relaxed expression was serious, brows furrowed.
Minjun’s eyes widened in shock. Jiwoo went silent. Y/N held her breath.
Sunghoon sighed, loosening his grip but not letting go. “Minjun,” he said, his voice softer now. “You have to be careful. You could have really hurt yourself.”
Sunghoon exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before crouching slightly to Minjun’s level. “It’s okay. Just… be more careful, alright? You scared me for a second there, kid.”
Y/N finally let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Her heart was still racing.
Minjun hesitated before looking up at Sunghoon with guilty eyes. “Are you mad at me?”
Sunghoon’s expression softened immediately. “No, bud. I just don’t want you getting hurt. You’re too important for that, got it?”
Minjun nodded, his lips pressing into a small pout.
Sunghoon chuckled, ruffling his hair before finally letting go of his wrist. “Good. Now finish your food before it gets cold.”
The tension eased, and Jiwoo started chatting again like nothing happened. But Y/N wasn’t as quick to move on.
Her eyes lingered on Sunghoon as he returned to his seat, taking a sip of his drink as if he hadn’t just shown the most natural display of fatherly protectiveness toward her son.
And the way Minjun had looked at him—like he truly admired and cared for him—made her chest tighten with emotions she wasn’t ready to name.
Sunghoon caught her staring and raised a brow. “What?”
Y/N blinked, quickly looking away. “Nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing.
It was something.
Something that made her heart race for an entirely different reason this time.
The days blurred into weeks, and their little group had settled into an unspoken routine—weekend outings, dinner at each other’s places, school pickups when one parent was busy. It felt so natural that sometimes Y/N had to remind herself that this wasn’t how things had always been.
That she and Sunghoon weren’t actually together.
But lately, something had shifted.
It was in the way Sunghoon lingered a little longer after dropping Jiwoo off at Y/N’s. In the way his touches had grown softer, more intentional—his hand brushing against hers when they reached for the same dish, the way his gaze lingered on her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
And it was in the way he looked at Minjun.
Like he was already someone important to him.
That was when Y/N knew she was in trouble.
But it wasn’t just her that Sunghoon had to think about.
Which was why, on one quiet evening at his penthouse, after Jiwoo had finished her bedtime story and snuggled into his side, he finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind.
“Jiwoo,” he murmured, running his fingers through her soft hair.
“Hmm?” she mumbled sleepily.
Sunghoon hesitated, his heart pounding slightly. He hadn’t been this nervous in a long time.
“Can I ask you something?”
Jiwoo yawned, nodding as she tucked herself closer to his side. “Mhm.”
Sunghoon took a breath. “What if… what if I liked someone?”
Jiwoo blinked up at him, sleepiness momentarily forgotten. “Like? Like how Minjun likes dinosaurs?”
Sunghoon let out a small chuckle. “No, sweetheart. Like how a prince likes a princess in your bedtime stories.”
Jiwoo’s little face scrunched up in thought. “Do I know them?”
He nodded. “Yeah. You know her really well.”
Jiwoo gasped dramatically, pushing herself up. “Is it Minjun’s mom?!”
Sunghoon blinked. “Uh—”
“I knew it!” Jiwoo clapped her hands excitedly. “You always look at her the way Minjun looks at cake! And you smile more when she’s around! And you always take care of Minjun like how Minjun takes care of me!”
Sunghoon was caught completely off guard. “I—wait, what?”
Jiwoo nodded eagerly, then paused. Her expression turned serious as she fiddled with the hem of her blanket. “But… does that mean she’ll be my mom?”
Sunghoon felt his throat tighten. This was the moment he was afraid of. Jiwoo had only ever had him—her mother had left when she was too young to remember.
He didn’t want to force anything on her.
He cupped her small face gently. “Only if you want her to be, Jiwoo. I’d never do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I just… I just really like her. And I think she’s really special.”
Jiwoo was quiet for a moment. Then, in a small voice, she asked, “Will she still love Minjun more than me?”
Sunghoon’s heart clenched.
“Oh, baby…” He pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “She loves Minjun because he’s her son. But that doesn’t mean she won’t love you too. You know how you and Minjun are like siblings, even though you weren’t born in the same family?”
Jiwoo nodded slowly.
“Well… families can grow. Just like how you and Minjun became best friends, maybe… maybe one day, she can love you like a mom too.”
Jiwoo thought about this for a long time. Then, she whispered, “I like her too.”
Sunghoon smiled, his chest filling with warmth. “Yeah?”
“She’s really nice. And she makes yummy food.”
Sunghoon chuckled. “That she does.”
Jiwoo yawned again, her little body relaxing in his arms. “I think… I think I’d like that.”
Sunghoon’s breath hitched.
“Yeah?”
Jiwoo nodded against his chest. “Mhm. But you have to make her happy, Daddy. Like how princes do in stories.”
Sunghoon swallowed the lump in his throat.
He had never needed a fairytale ending.
But if this was what it felt like—his daughter in his arms, and a future with Y/N within reach—then maybe… maybe this was even better.
After that night, something in Sunghoon shifted.
Not in a grand, dramatic way—but in quiet, deliberate moments.
It started with flowers.
The first time he brought them, Y/N was caught completely off guard. She had just opened the door to let Jiwoo in for a playdate when Sunghoon handed her a bouquet of soft pink tulips, his expression unreadable but his ears tinted pink.
“For you,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
Y/N blinked, looking down at the flowers before looking back up at him. “These are…”
“Pretty?” Sunghoon smirked.
“Yes, but—” She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Why?”
Sunghoon shrugged, his lips quirking up. “Just thought you’d like them.”
Y/N stared at him for a moment before shaking her head with a small laugh. “Thank you, Sunghoon.”
He only hummed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he watched Jiwoo and Minjun dash past them into the living room. “You should put them in water before they wilt.”
Y/N rolled her eyes but did as he said, a soft smile lingering on her lips.
Then came the touches.
At first, they were almost imperceptible—his hand brushing against hers when they reached for the same plate, his fingers ghosting over her lower back when he guided her through a crowded café, the lingering warmth of his palm when he handed her a cup of coffee.
They were small gestures, so subtle that Y/N might have convinced herself they meant nothing.
Until the teasing started.
“Oh, so you can cook,” Sunghoon remarked one evening as they had dinner at her place. He watched as she plated the food, his lips curling in amusement. “And here I thought you just ordered takeout every time I came over.”
Y/N scoffed, shooting him a look. “Excuse me, Park Sunghoon, but I’ll have you know that I am an amazing cook.”
Sunghoon leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Amazing, huh?”
“Yes,” she said confidently. “Minjun always finishes his food, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Sunghoon said, “but he also eats crayons when he’s bored.”
Y/N gasped, smacking his arm lightly as he laughed. “You are the worst!”
Sunghoon only grinned, his gaze lingering on her a second too long.
It was in those moments—the teasing, the playful banter, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her—that Y/N realized he wasn’t just being nice.
He was trying.
Trying to tell her something without saying it outright.
Trying to show her, in his own quiet way, that this—they—meant something to him.
And the scariest part?
She wasn’t sure when she had started hoping for it, too.
—
It was a Wednesday afternoon when Sunghoon found himself waiting outside Minjun’s school, hands in his pockets as he leaned against his car. Y/N had called earlier, apologizing for not being able to pick up the kids due to a last-minute work meeting. Without hesitation, Sunghoon had offered to go instead.
He spotted them before they saw him—Jiwoo skipping happily alongside Minjun, their hands swinging between them as they talked about something animatedly.
Minjun noticed him first. “Uncle Sunghoon!” he called out, waving.
Sunghoon smirked at the title. He had long gotten used to Minjun calling him that, though sometimes he wondered if the kid saw him as more than just Jiwoo’s dad.
“Hey, buddy.” He crouched slightly as Minjun approached. Jiwoo immediately hugged Sunghoon’s waist before letting go to rummage through her backpack.
Minjun tilted his head curiously. “You’re picking us up today?”
Sunghoon nodded. “Your mom had a meeting. Figured I’d come get you both.”
Minjun hummed in understanding before looking up at him seriously. “Are we getting ice cream?”
Sunghoon huffed a laugh. “I don’t remember saying that.”
“But you always get us ice cream,” Jiwoo pointed out, blinking up at him with those innocent eyes that always managed to make him weak.
Sunghoon sighed dramatically. “Fine. Ice cream it is.”
The kids cheered, and just as Sunghoon was about to open the car door for them, he hesitated.
There was something he had been meaning to do—something important.
“Hey, Minjun,” he said, kneeling down so they were at eye level.
Minjun, who had been adjusting the straps of his backpack, turned to him. “Yeah?”
Sunghoon took a slow breath, suddenly feeling nervous. He had closed multi-million dollar deals without breaking a sweat, yet here he was, feeling like a teenager about to confess.
“There’s something I need to ask you,” Sunghoon started carefully. “Man-to-man.”
Minjun straightened at that, his little chest puffing up slightly. “Okay.”
Sunghoon smiled at his seriousness before continuing.
“I… I really like your mom,” he admitted, watching Minjun’s reaction closely.
Minjun blinked. “Well, duh.”
Sunghoon coughed. “What?”
“You like her,” Minjun stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You always bring her flowers, and you look at her like how the princes do in those movies Jiwoo makes me watch.”
Jiwoo giggled beside them but said nothing, seemingly enjoying the conversation.
Sunghoon cleared his throat, both amused and caught off guard by how perceptive Minjun was.
“Well… yeah,” he admitted. “And because I like her, I wanted to ask if it’s okay with you if I… court her?”
Minjun’s brows furrowed slightly. “Court?”
“It means I want to take care of her, bring her on dates, and maybe—if she wants—become something more in the future.” Sunghoon met the boy’s gaze earnestly. “But only if you’re okay with it.”
Minjun was silent for a moment. Then, he asked seriously, “Will you still buy me ice cream even if I say no?”
Sunghoon burst out laughing. “Yes, you little rascal.”
Minjun grinned before thinking for a few more seconds. Then, he shrugged. “I mean, if Mom likes you too, then it’s fine with me.”
Sunghoon felt something warm spread in his chest. “Yeah?”
Minjun nodded. “Yeah. But—” He crossed his arms. “You have to promise to never make her cry.”
Minjun studied him for a second before nodding. “Okay, then. You can court her.”
Sunghoon chuckled. “Glad I got your approval, Minjun.”
Minjun beamed proudly while Jiwoo clapped excitedly. “Yay! That means we can be a real family one day, right?”
Sunghoon smiled, glancing between the two kids before looking toward the school entrance, where he knew Y/N usually stood during pickups.
“Maybe,” he murmured. “If your mom lets me.”
—
Y/N had no idea why Minjun was acting so strangely that afternoon.
First, he insisted she wear something “nice but not too fancy.” Then, when she asked what the special occasion was, he and Jiwoo only exchanged mischievous glances before running off to their room, whispering like they were planning something top secret.
When she pressed for answers, Minjun only grinned. “Just trust me, Mom.”
That should have been her first clue that something was up.
Now, standing in front of her door, she blinked in surprise as she found Sunghoon waiting on the other side—holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers.
She stared at him, momentarily speechless. “What’s going on?”
Instead of answering, Minjun grabbed her hand, Jiwoo doing the same on the other side. “Come on, Mommy!” Jiwoo chirped excitedly. “You’ll see!”
Y/N let them pull her along, still glancing back at Sunghoon in confusion. He only chuckled, falling into step beside her as they led her toward the balcony.
And that was when she saw it.
A small but beautifully set dinner table, warm fairy lights strung above, casting a soft golden glow over the space. A cake sat in the center, decorated with delicate frosting, and next to it lay a wrapped gift with a handwritten note on top.
It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it was thoughtful. Cozy. Personal.
Her heart skipped a beat.
“Surprise,” Sunghoon said, scratching the back of his neck as he stepped beside her.
Y/N turned to him, still taking it all in. “You did this?”
Minjun huffed dramatically. “We did this.”
Jiwoo nodded eagerly. “We helped, Uncle Sunghoon did the cooking, and Minjun made sure everything was perfect!”
Y/N looked between them, her chest tightening. “Why, though?”
Sunghoon exhaled, suddenly looking slightly nervous. “Because… I wanted to ask you something.”
Minjun nudged him. “Do it now!”
Jiwoo bounced in excitement. “Yes, yes! Do it now!”
Y/N chuckled, looking back at Sunghoon, who was now gazing at her with an expression softer than she’d ever seen before.
He cleared his throat. “I was going to ask if I could court you. Properly. But honestly?” He let out a breathy chuckle. “I don’t want to wait. I like you, Y/N. A lot. And I don’t need a courting phase to know that I want to be with you.”
Her breath caught.
Sunghoon took a step closer. “So instead of asking if I can court you… let’s just date. And I’ll court you every single day.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment, the weight of his words settling in.
Then—
Minjun gasped dramatically. “That was so good!”
Jiwoo squealed, clapping her hands. “Say yes, Mommy!”
Y/N blinked, taking in Sunghoon’s slightly nervous but hopeful expression, the way Minjun and Jiwoo were practically vibrating with excitement.
Her lips curled into a smile.
“Okay,” she said softly.
Sunghoon straightened slightly. “Okay?”
She laughed, nodding. “Okay. Let’s date.”
A slow grin spread across Sunghoon’s face, relief and happiness flooding his features.
Minjun smirked, crossing his arms. “Told you she’d say yes.”
Jiwoo squealed again, wrapping her small arms around Y/N’s waist. “Yay! Does this mean you’re my mommy now?”
Y/N’s heart swelled at the little girl’s hopeful expression. She knelt down, gently tucking a strand of Jiwoo’s hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart… you already call me that.”
Jiwoo blinked, as if realizing it for the first time, then her face lit up with pure joy. “Oh! I do!” she giggled. “That means you’re already my mommy, right?”
Y/N chuckled softly, glancing up at Sunghoon, who was watching the interaction with something unreadable in his eyes.
She turned back to Jiwoo, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “If that’s what you want, then of course, sweetheart.”
Jiwoo let out an excited gasp and threw her arms around Y/N’s neck, squeezing tight. “Yay! I love you, Mommy!”
Y/N felt a lump form in her throat as she hugged the little girl back. “I love you too, baby.”
Sunghoon exhaled a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair as he watched them. “Well,” he murmured, “I guess that means I really have to make good on my promise now.”
Y/N raised a brow, still holding Jiwoo close. “And what promise is that?”
He smirked, stepping forward. “To court you every single day.”
And with the way he was looking at her now—like she was something precious, something he was willing to cherish—Y/N knew he meant every word.
A few months later, the four of them were at the park again—something that had become a weekend tradition. Minjun and Jiwoo were running ahead, their laughter ringing through the crisp afternoon air.
Sunghoon walked beside Y/N, their hands naturally intertwined, the warmth between them familiar and comforting.
Life had changed so much in just a short time. Sunghoon had kept his word—courting her every single day—with early morning coffee deliveries, spontaneous lunch dates, and quiet, stolen moments just for them. More importantly, he had embraced Minjun as his own, never once making the boy feel like anything less than family.
And Minjun had noticed.
Which was why today, when Minjun suddenly stopped running and turned back, waving excitedly, it didn’t surprise Y/N when he called out—
“Mom! Dad! Come push us on the swings!”
Sunghoon stilled beside her. Y/N felt his grip on her hand tighten slightly.
Minjun had started calling him Uncle Sunghoon, then just Sunghoon, and lately, Hoon. But this… this was the first time he had called him Dad.
Y/N’s breath caught. Slowly, she turned to Sunghoon, whose expression was unreadable—his eyes slightly wide, lips parted in surprise.
Then, as if something inside him clicked, his entire face softened.
“Guess that’s official then,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion.
Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. “You okay with that?”
He exhaled a quiet chuckle, eyes never leaving hers. “More than okay.”
She saw it then—the unspoken promise in his gaze. That he would love Minjun like his own. That this wasn’t just about her and him—it was about all four of them.
And she had never been more sure of anything in her life.
Minjun’s impatient voice rang out again. “Hurry up, lovebirds! The swings won’t push themselves!”
Y/N groaned, while Sunghoon threw his head back in laughter.
“Coming!” he called, tugging Y/N along.
And as they ran toward their children—hand in hand, hearts in sync—Y/N realized that this? This was home.
—
Months later, cardboard boxes were stacked high in Sunghoon’s penthouse.
Jiwoo was skipping through the hallways excitedly. “Oppa! Look, look! Now we get to live together forever!”
Minjun grinned, ruffling her hair. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get too excited, Jiwoo-ah. You still can’t come into my room without knocking.”
Jiwoo pouted. “But what if I have a nightmare?”
Sunghoon, walking by with a box, smirked. “Then you can crawl into my bed, princess.”
Minjun made a face. “That’s not fair. I can’t just crawl into bed with you.”
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Sure, you can.”
Minjun blinked. “Wait… really?”
Sunghoon set the box down and crouched to Minjun’s level. “Of course. You’re my son now, Minjun. That means you can always come to me, okay?”
Minjun looked at him for a long moment before his face softened. “Okay… Dad.”
Sunghoon froze.
Jiwoo gasped. “You said it again!”
Y/N, standing by the doorway, pressed a hand to her chest, feeling tears prick her eyes.
Sunghoon’s lips curled into the softest smile as he pulled Minjun into a firm hug. “I love you, kid.”
Minjun grinned, hugging him back. “I love you too, Dad.”
Jiwoo squealed and tackled them both. “Group hug!”
Y/N laughed, walking over and wrapping her arms around all of them.
Sunghoon turned to press a kiss to her temple, whispering, “Welcome home, love.”
