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Changbin was halfway through his after-school sandwich when it started again.
The daily ritual.
The never-ending love-show.
The reason he often questioned why he was even born into this family.
Jisung came into the kitchen humming, actually glowing, with a stupidly soft smile on his face. He held a cup of tea in both hands like it was crafted by angels themselves.
“Is it for Mom?” Changbin asked flatly without even looking up from his plate.
“Of course,” Jisung said proudly. “Honey works so hard, Bin. She deserves hot tea delivered with love.”
Changbin munched on his sandwich extra aggressively. “Yeah, yeah. She also has legs. She can walk, you know.”
Jisung gasped, genuinely horrified. “And make my queen get up unnecessarily? Unthinkable.”
Changbin gulped loudly just to show his disapproval. “So dramatic, dad, so, sooo dramatic. She literally just asked for a cup of tea, not a royal procession.”
But Jisung wasn’t even listening. He was already placing a biscuit on a tiny plate, arranging it at the perfect angle, checking if it looked cute, then smiling like he was starring in a romance drama.
Changbin rolled his eyes so hard they nearly left behind his brain. He watched as his dad practically floated out of the kitchen and up the stairs like a man delivering offerings to a goddess.
A moment later, from upstairs, came Hyunjin’s gentle, amused voice.
“Sung… baby, I didn’t ask for a biscuit.”
“I thought you might want one,” Jisung replied, sounding delighted with himself. “And maybe a shoulder massage?”
“Ji, I’m literally in the middle dressing Jinjin-”
“I can massage around the stress.”
Changbin banged his head softly on the table.
Chan, passing by with his toy laptop looked up. “You okay?”
“No,” Changbin groaned. “Our parents are in love again.”
The boy patted him on the head in mock sympathy. “It’s tragic. Truly.”
And then Hyunjin’s giggles floated down the stairs, mixing with Jisung’s stupidly sweet voice, and Changbin shoved another mouthful of bread in his mouth.
“I swear, our house should come with a parental PDA warning.”
He tried to keep up his annoyed act, but when Hyunjin called down. “Bin, sweetheart, did you eat? There’s Jam if you’re hungry later,”
and Jisung added a “Love you, son!”
Changbin’s scowl cracked just a little.
Only a little. He had a reputation to maintain.
“Ugh. They’re disgusting. And also annoying. And… fine, a tiny bit cute. But mostly disgusting.”
Chan swears he only wanted snacks.
That’s it. Just a bag of honey-butter chips and maybe a pack of strawberry soda. But instead, he’s third-wheeling like never before.
The moment they step into the grocery store, Hyunjin heads for the vegetable aisle with her list. And Jisung? Jisung follows behind her like a golden retriever who discovered loyalty.
“Babe, careful. Don’t bend too much,” Jisung says dramatically as Hyunjin reaches for a bundle of spring onions.
“Mumma's literally just bending, dada… like just two centimeters.” Chan, pushing the mini trolley behind them, deadpans.
“That’s all it takes for injury, Channie,” Jisung replies with the seriousness of a man discussing national security, and he gently places a supportive hand on Hyunjin’s back.
Chan pretends to not see it as he pushes the trolley past them.
They go down another aisle, and Hyunjin reaches for a jar on the top shelf. Before her fingertips can even graze it, Jisung JUMPS.
Like actually jumps.
“WAIT! DON’T STRAIN YOUR SHOULDER-” he practically leaps to get the jar for her, and nearly knocks down another in the process.
Hyunjin calmly catches the falling jar like she does this every day (the fact is... she does).
Chan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dada… the jar weighs less than my pencil case.”
“That’s not the point!” Jisung says, hugging the jar to his chest like it offended him. “Why is it placed so high?! Honey, let me do all the reaching today, okay? Okay?”
Hyunjin pats his cheek. “Yes, my heroic husband.”
Chan groans audibly and pushes the cart away from them.“I’m too young to be witnessing this level of love.”
They continue shopping, and every aisle is a new episode of Jisung vs. The World That Might Slightly Inconvenience His Wife.
At the checkout, Hyunjin tries to take out her wallet. Jisung gasps like she committed a crime.
“No. Absolutely not. Put that away. I’m paying.”
“It’s just a soda,” Hyunjin says.
“I’ll pay for ten sodas,” Jisung retorts.
Chan stares at them like he's an exhausted single father of two idiots.
When they walk back to the parking lot, Chan whispers loud enough for the earth to hear. “Mumma, I love you but… dada is too much.”
Hyunjin laughs and ruffles his hair. “He is, I know. But he’s my too much.”
Jisung beams proudly at that and slings an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulder like he just got an award.
Chan rolls his eyes so hard it might stick. But even he, king of being done, can’t hide the tiny smile forming on his lips.
Because yes. His parents are gross.
Yes. His dada is extra. And dramatic. And lovesick.
Yes. He wants to scream sometimes.
But also?
They're… they’re kind of cute.
(Chan will deny this if asked at this point.)
The chaos begins before breakfast is even finished.
Hyunjin is in the living room tying Hyejin’s tiny ponytail while Jisung is kneeling in front of Jihan, gently brushing out the toddler’s hair. Both twins are squirmy and stubborn in opposite ways, yet there he is, Jisung, cooing like he’s grooming a baby swan.
“Appa, tickles,” Jihan giggles, swatting at the brush.
“I know, baby, but if we don’t brush it, your hair gets tangles and then you’ll cry later,” Jisung says, as if explaining a tragic universal truth. He tucks a stray curl behind Jihan’s ear, smiling like he hung the moon.
Across the counter, Hyejin stares up at Hyunjin through the mirror of her mom’s phone camera.
“Mama, Appa doing again,” she says flatly.
“Doing what?” Hyunjin asks, half-distracted as she smooths down the little girl's hair.
“Being… Appa.” Hyejin sighs. Deeply, a two-year-old sigh of a middle-aged office worker.
Hyunjin hides a laugh. “Is that bad?”
“Yes,” Hyejin deadpans. “Appa is… lovey.”
Jihan nods enthusiastically. “Hugs all the time.”
Jisung gasps softly, offended. “I hug because I love you! Look at you... you’re both so cute! And soft! And tiny!” He swoops them into his arms, hugging them from behind before they can escape.
The twins freeze like cats being lifted unexpectedly.
“Aaahhhh,” Hyejin groans dramatically, though she still melts into the warmth.
“Appa, stopppp,” Jihan whines but rests his head on Jisung’s shoulder anyway.
Hyunjin leans against the counter, arms folded, amused. “Sung, let them breathe.”
“But they’re so adorable,” he insists, holding them tighter.
“Appa, no!” Hyejin wiggles, arms flailing. “Too much!”
Jihan joins in. “Mama, help! Appa squeeze!”
“You two were squeezed in here,” Hyunjin says calmly, tapping her belly. “This is mild.”
Hyejin stares at him.
Jisung pouts. “Fine. I’ll stop. But only if I get one kiss.”
The twins exchange a look like they’re dealing with the most exhausting man alive.
Finally, Hyejin leans in, pecks his cheek, then giggles happily. Jihan presses both palms to Jisung’s face and physically turns him toward Hyunjin.
“Hug Mama. Want peace.”
Hyunjin bursts out laughing, covering her face. And Jisung, of course, beams like someone just handed him a trophy.
“See? Our babies love love!” he declares.
The twins simply toddle off to their toys, finally free of their affectionate captor. Behind them, Jisung wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s waist.
“At least you appreciate my love.”
Hyunjin kisses his cheek with a smile. “Someone has to.”
Yongbok had been coloring on the living-room floor with the twins when she suddenly froze, her little bunny-ear hairband slipping slightly over her eyes.
She lifted her. “I… uh-oh.”
Chan looked up from his Lego tower. “What?”
Yongbok pointed her crayon at the kitchen. “Uncle Han is doing that again.”
The twins gasped, dramatic as ever.
“Is it the feeding Mumma because she’s too precious to use her hands thing??” Chan whispered.
“No, no.” Hyejin narrowed her eyes.
“Is it the forehead kiss every two minutes thing?” Chan makes another guess.
“No!” Yongbok puffed her cheeks. “It’s the princess chair thing!”
Sure enough, in the kitchen, Jisung had gently scooted Hyunjin into a chair, tied her hair up for her with a soft scrunchie, and was now serving her fruit slices on a plate shaped like a heart. He wasn’t even being subtle, he placed each piece down individually while softly humming her favorite song.
Hyunjin looked halfway embarrassed, halfway endeared. “Sung, you seriously don’t have to cut strawberries into stars-”
“But I want to,” the man said, ruffling her hair like she was the sun and he was the sunflower doomed to follow her forever. “My wife deserves beautiful things.”
The kids collapsed onto the floor with a collective groan.
Yongbok flopped onto her back dramatically. “HE’S DOING IT AGAIN.”
Chan dragged both hands down his face. “Dada needs a hobby.”
The twins nodded violently. “One that is not Mama.” said Hyejin.
Yongbok rested her chin on her palms, legs kicking in the air. “Last time he made heart-shaped eggs! The eggs didn’t even want to be hearts!”
They all watched helplessly as Jisung lifted the plate, set it in front of Hyunjin, and kissed her forehead again, soft, simple.
He didn’t even realize he did it; loving Hyunjin was muscle memory at this point.
Another groan from the kid pile.
“I swear,” Yongbok muttered, “if he calls her ‘my darling starshine love-puddle’ again, I’m gonna scream.”
Hyejin perked up. “Appa said that yesterday!”
“Exactly!”
Then, like fate mocking them, Jisung leaned down and whispered something in Hyunjin’s ear.
And Hyunjin giggled.
The kids froze.
“He made her giggle.” Chan whispered, horrified.
Yongbok covered her eyes. “We’re doomed.”
And then Jisung kissed Hyunjin’s forehead again before going to refill her juice.
The kids shut down.
They didn’t even try to hide their misery anymore. They just lay sprawled all over the living-room carpet like witnesses of a disaster.
Finally Chan muttered, “He loves Mumma too much. It’s actually scary.”
Yongbok nodded wisely. “It’s okay. They’re in love. It’s gross. But it’s okay.” Then she lifted her crayon and sighed, “Anyway… who wants to color a divorce lawyer? For when Auntie honey gets tired of heart-shaped eggs?”
The twins burst into giggles, Chan smacked his forehead, and the living room filled with chaotic kid noise again, while in the kitchen, Jisung continued lovingly worshipping his wife, unaware that four small children were dying of affectionate disgust in the next room.
But Hyunjin saw.
She always did.
And she bit back a smile.
Because if her kids were this done…
…it only meant Jisung loves her exactly as much as she always prayed he would.
Dinner is finished, team kids sprawl across the massive sofa, Changbin in the corner, Chan curled up with a blanket, the twins lying stomach-down with their legs kicking in the air, and Yongbok in the middle, her tiny hands wrapped around a bowl of popcorn she guards like treasure.
Hyunjin arrives last, fresh from changing into soft pajamas, hair tied up loosely, and Jisung is right behind her... because of course he is. He holds her hand like he’s guiding royalty and helps her sit even though she’s perfectly capable.
The kids groan in unison.
Except tonight… the tone is different.
Hyunjin tries to sit next to Changbin, but Jisung gently nudges her toward the warm spot he’d prepared between him and the armrest, the softest pillows, the coziest blanket, even her favorite plush.
“Sit here,” he says quietly, brushing a thumb across her knuckles. “It’s your spot.”
And instead of complaining, the kids all look at each other.
Because... it doesn’t feel too much.
It feels… really, really sweet.
As the movie starts playing and the opening music fills the room, Jisung drapes the blanket over Hyunjin’s legs, tucking her in without looking away from her face for a second. He fixes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Softly asks if she’s warm enough, then presses a small kiss to her temple.
Hyunjin blushes. Not dramatically, not teasingly, just genuinely touched.
“Thank you, Sungie,” she whispers.
And the whole room softens.
Chan looks away from the screen and whispers to Changbin, “Okay… that was kinda cute.”
Changbin nods, arms crossed but eyes gentle. “Yeah… dad’s annoying but he… really loves her.”
The twins, for once, don’t giggle or interrupt. Hyejin rests her head on Jihan’s shoulder and says, “That storybook love.” Jihan nods, fascinated.
Even Yongbok stares, big round eyes blinking slowly. “That’s how a man should love his woman,” she says proudly. “Like… princess love.”
And then Jisung simply rests his hand beside hers on the couch, open, waiting, and Hyunjin slides her hand into his without looking away from the movie.
Their fingers lace together perfectly.
And all four kids melt.
Chan whispers, “Okay… that’s actually goals.”
Changbin mumbles, “Whatever. It’s... cute. I guess.”
Hyunjin leans into her husband with a joyful, shy smile. Jisung kisses her forehead once more, lighter than a feather.
But no one groans this time.
They just watch, quietly, fondly, admiringly, realizing this is what love looks like in their home.
Soft.
Warm.
Steady.
Everyday magic.
And as the movie plays on, the whole family curls closer, laughter fading into content silence, the night ending in the coziest, safest bubble of love.