Summary: He was everything she was not; she was everything he was not. Yet, he stood there, watching her walk away with what was his, after giving him a piece of herself.
Genre: Hurt + Comfort
Rating: SFW
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 3.5k
Est.Read Time: 14 min
Banner:@cafekitsune
Rec. Song: Choose- Ateez
“Do you know why you're here?”
San blinked at the man behind the desk and shrugged nonchalantly before leaning against his chair and looking out the window. He wasn’t going to speak up- might as well take the hit without listening to the lecture. He was supposed to take the hit; that was his purpose, it had been like that since he could remember. The scrawny guys always get picked on, and this time, he was that guy.
“Choi San, are you listening to me? The school counsellor is unable to understand how someone with your grades and extracurricular activities-”
A soft knock on the door stopped the old hard-eyed principal from his monologue, eyes shifting from the shaggy-haired boy to the oak door, calling out for whoever haddecided to ruin his moment of glory.
The door slowly opened as you stepped in, head held high, eyes as hard and clear as the old man who sat at that desk, staring him in the eye as you walked over to stand next to the lanky boy lounging on the chair, hands behind your back as you spoke. Your tone was low but with a certain crisp that irked San, his eyes flickering up from the ground to your side profile- you looked fierce.
“Principal Kim, I would like to let you know that Choi San did not throw that rock into the staffroom. I have several witnesses of who threw the rock and CCTV footage. I have emailed it to you along with the students who witnessed the incident.”
You looked confident, with your head held up high and hands behind your back. You were fearless, he could tell, by the way your tone didn’t waver for a second. You were strong, if not physically, mentally you were in a strong, determined headspace, he could tell, by the way you didn’t spare him a single look- you were not here for him, you were here to perform your duty. The duty of the president of the student council. You were everything he was not- yet, just like him, you were hated by almost everyone. Unlike him, it did not bother you for a second.
The principal looked at San then back at you, raising an eyebrow, “So, why is he taking the blame?”
“I do not know, Sir…frankly, I do not care either,” You shot back before nodding to him before taking your leave and walking out of the room, like you had not just changed the trajectory of his life.
.
“Why do you do it?”
You glanced down, perched upon the ladder as you were trying to fix the banner for an upcoming event, while the rest of the student council was on a ‘break’, at the moron with his hair covering his eyes. He was wasting your time.
“Do what?”
You asked, turning around to fix the banner again, too unbothered to look at him; he didn’t even have the confidence to push his hair out of his eyes, no point in making eye contact with someone like that. More importantly, you had other things to tend to.
San noticed how you continued to work; it didn’t bother him. The fact that you had responded to his question meant that he had gotten your attention, even if it was just 4% of it. He was lucky enough to have that.
“Do you know they still hate you? You do most of their work too, and they ditch you here on purpose?”
“I do not concern myself with the intentions of others.” You huffed, trying to tie the knot on the hook, since the tape was useless. It was bothersome enough that this wasn’t working, but then this moron was wasting more time with his insistent nonsense.
“You can’t possibly be okay with that? You took my side that day! And I know the next day those guys placed a dead rat on your desk and-”
“Is there a point to this?” You spat, sliding off the ladder as you stood up straight and looked up at him, “I know what they did, they suffered the consequences of that. I did not take your side, I did what was right, it is my duty to remain objective and take a stance of truth and as for your nonsense question, no, it does not affect me, what any unambitious loser thinks of me, I am not lost in this moment- I have things planned out and goals to accomplish, now get out of my way.”
With that, you grabbed the ladder and walked away, making sure to not waste any more time with the loser. What you did not realise was that you were not only leaving with the ladder, no, you had walked away with his heart in the pocket of your blazer.
.
“Excuse me?”
You looked up from your book at the boy who stood there with his hair combed back, uniformed, neatly pressed and shoes shining as bright as your future. His hands were clasped before him, twiddling his thumbs as he stared at the grass, too afraid to meet your eyes as he mumbled it again.
“Prom…w-will you please be my date to the prom?”
“No.”
San felt like he was going to hurl. Did he know that he might get rejected? Yes. Was he prepared to get rejected? Of course not. He had been practising this for three months, and even then, he ended up stuttering. Mingi had helped him with cleaning up his looks, making him appear prim and proper. Yet, here he stood dejected, disgusting in your eyes, that’s what he gets for trying. He should have known better; the two of you were in different leagues-
“Stop crying.”
He was…crying? His hands immediately darted to his face, the heels of his palms pressing against his wet cheeks, rubbing furiously as he glared at his polished shoes. He wanted to ask why, even if he did know the answer, he wanted her to say it. He wanted her to say it to him, with that cold tone, harsh words, emotionless eyes; he wanted her to prove to him that he could hate her.
“I don’t date unambitious losers.”
There it was, he knew it, she was all talk, she was just like them. She would only pretend to be better than the rest of them, but she was just like these people-
“And you are not an unambitious loser, don’t act like one.”
His head shot up to meet her gaze, her soft gaze, unlike her tone, though he wasn’t a fool, he could sense the warmth of the undertone, especially when she moved closer and handed him her book.
“I have plans. I already told you. You should have some too, don’t waste this time, make something out of yourself. I have too much to achieve to be falling into this. You have the potential, don’t waste it on trivial things and feelings that are linked to your hormones. Don’t become the sheep they want you to become.” With that, you took a step back and picked up your bag and turned to look at him again, as he stared at the hard cover of the book you had just handed to him, too lost in thought- but he was listening, you know he was.
“I should not be your goal, you should be your own goal- and if fate has it, we will cross paths again. If not, you will find someone much better, and so will I. Don’t get distracted, Choi San, be the man you’re supposed to become.”
Just like that you had walked away, much like the last time, with your bag hanging off your shoulder and inside it, something that was not originally yours, but just like last time, he had given it to you, his glass heart, stuffed somewhere between the books and notes, no longer his- waiting for him to collect it when fate wills it, to either come and exchange it with yours or perhaps to retrieve it so he can give it to someone who truly deserved it- though he wished it was the former, than the latter that fate decides to follow.
.
You walked down the quiet road, handbag slinging off your shoulder as you hummed to yourself, thinking of what your boss had told you today, apparently, you were getting a partner, whatever that meant. You did not need extra baggage; unfortunately, you had realised as you grew older that sometimes unwelcome help can be helpful. Well, considering how your last partner was nothing but a slacker, you did not want another one, but your boss was adamant on ‘helping you out’. The old lady’s way of saying ‘Don’t work overtime or you’ll have no life’, you weren’t stupid, you had noticed how she had hinted at your age and the lack of a partner- again, none of this was her business. Unfortunately, you had realised another thing: some people were really, really good at their work, but were also very much ‘feelers’.
Nonetheless, she was a woman of experience and great skill, and you were grateful to be placed in her department and to learn from her. Perhaps she was right, you did deserve a bit of relief, maybe you’d be able to do the leisure activities you had been stalling while working overtime.
You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the man who had been walking in your direction, accidentally bumping shoulders with him as you turned around to mumble an apology, but had he beat you to it, bowing a few times before scurrying off like he had seen a ghost. Strange, you thought to yourself as you watched him speed walk away into the night, strange because a man of his size needn’t be afraid- but those shoulders though, chef’s kiss- okay, you now understood what that old woman meant.
.
Once you had clocked in you sat down, turning on the desktop only to turn in your swivel chair to see a man standing there with his hands behind his back, staring at his shoes for a second before he cleared his throat and looked up at you, “Good morning, Mrs. Lim was unable to come in today, but she instructed me to go to you directly, I will be assisting you in your daily work from today onwards.”
You blinked at him for a second, frowning at something before slowly nodding and gesturing to the cubicle beside yours, “You’ll sit there, my last partner was a hoarder, so I don’t know if that desk’s clean or not, just throw everything away, if she comes to collect something, tell her I set it on fire. Has your email been assigned to you yet?”
He shook his head but continued to look at you with a certain twinkle in his eyes as if he was waiting for something; unfortunately, you were not one to entertain, especially men. If he wanted a reward, he would need to ask Mrs.Lim; she loved giving rewards. All you’d want is results.
“Do you have your access key-card?”
Once again, he nodded before bowing, “I do, thank you. I will try my best to assist you-”
“You better, Choi twink.”
His breath hitched at the name. Nobody had called him that since high school; he had outgrown it, he was different now, bigger, stronger, smarter, more confident- well, that is, until he had seen you last night. Especially when he had bumped into you because he was so lost in thought about it…about fate.
“Is that…work place harassment?
“I believe so, but then again, almost dislocating my shoulder past working hours would be considered assault.”
His lip twitched into a small smile as he blinked at the ground, unsure of how you had figured it out. Last night, you had looked too lost in thought to notice him.
“Anyway, I’ll give you some drafts you can edit, then go through the general requirements and corporate palette requirements.”
With one last bow, he had gone to his cubicle, almost tripping over when he heard you, “Nice to see you grew into your head.”
.
“Done!”
You turned your head to glare at the loud moron who smiled up at you from his cubicle, as you took a deep breath, reminding yourself how murder was illegal. Your glasses perched at the tip of your nose. If he wasn’t good at his work, you really would have punched him in the face.
“Then email it to me. Why are you declaring it?”
“I did email it to you.”
“Okay? What do you want? A gold star?”
With that, you had gone back to typing, sighing in relief when the silence around you began to settle, thank god. Ever since he had arrived, he had been hovering around you like a cat. Was he good at his work? Of course, he was exceptionally good. Was he efficient and thorough? Definitely- but God, he was clingy, he was a yapper, and most of all he was…a feeler. That meant he was annoyingly observant. He’d notice everything. From the way you’d sigh when you were tired, to the way you’d eat more when you were stressed, to how you would blink slowly when you felt like it was all to much- and for some reason, as much as you hated it, he had been there every time, if not to fix it, to just sit there, like a cat perched upon your lap, giving you the emotional support you needed it silence. Never questioning your capabilities, never doubting your resilience, but quietly letting you know that if you were to stumble, he’d make sure to help you regain your balance.
“Actually, I’d like to take you out on a date.”
You flinched at the proximity of his voice, turning to glance at the man who had rolled his swivel chair into your cubicle, invading your personal space, catching you off guard.
“So you can dump me after cause I rejected you back then?”
He blinked at your snide remark. You were always so cautious, like a feral cat, the ones he’d carry treats for in his pocket, ones you would sometimes use to feed strays as well. It didn’t faze him, though, unlike back then, this time he came prepared, because this time his goal wasn’t to date you, no, it was something different, a feeling that had been festering inside him for years. A feeling he had tried to get over, much like how you had advised him. He had tried in college, in university, but at the end of the day, his chest did not allow any other’s heart to fill in the cavity that you had left since the day you had carved out his heart and taken it with you.
It was sheer fate that had led the two of you to cross paths that night; it was fate that had somehow had him apply to the same place you had worked, and it was definitely fate that had him sitting in the cubicle next to yours, smiling at the sight of you every morning. Taking in your hard expression as you stared at the world around you- you had not changed a bit, if anything, you had just matured into someone you probably had dreamt of, someone he had assumed you would mature into, and he was proud to see you like that.
“That is an incorrect assumption.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, raising a brow as he stood up and walked over to his cubicle, peaking over the translucent divider to see what he was doing, taking in the way he fished something out of his bag, the battered pink cover forcing a gasp past your lips as you stared at him wide eyed, watching him walk back to your cubicle with the book that you had given him back then, the book that looked like it had matured with him. The spined wrinkled, colour faded at the corners of the cover, it looked well kept, well read, well loved.
“You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. And wish from this day forth never to be parted from you.”
He placed it on your desk, smiling at you as you swallowed back whatever was swirling within you, hand brushing the cover of the book. A thousand thoughts running wild across your mind, unsure of what was happening, unable to compute, to calculate, to analyse and determine the loss and profit, too overwhelmed to predict the outcome.
“Would have been a really cool line, but I’m not emotionally constipated like Mr.Darcy.”
Your eyes flickered up from the book to him, staring up at him speechless, too taken aback by his analysis- emotionally constipated? The nerve of this bastard-
“You did not bewitch me, nor did you hex me; instead, you motivated me to find myself. You inspired me to become a better version of myself.”
He slowly moved his seat closer to yours, but kept enough distance to keep it professional- and remain out of your range in case you were going to swing at him. No, he had seen you swing at someone during high school, and no, he did not want his tooth knocked out. Like he had said before, like a feral stray, you were very unpredictable.
“I wanted to thank you, but I felt like that would not do me justice.”
“Do you…justice?” You whispered, placing the book in your lap, staring at the cover quietly. This moron had been carrying this around with him?
“Indeed, I’d like you to give me yours, since you’d held my heart in the palm of your hand since the day you called me an unambitious loser.”
The bitterness of the words had you stumbling over your words as you blinked up at him, “N-no, San, I didn’t mean it like that, you weren’t one, I was immature, and my choice of words was not the best and-”
He raised a hand to stop you, giving you a gentle dimpled smile, “I know…but if you had not set me straight that day, I’d probably still be wallowing in self-pity, and for that I thank you, but you must know, my feelings have not changed- you thought you were my goal back then, that was true, but now however, you aren’t my goal, you’re my reason of success, you’re the sole motivator I need to train myself to be the best version of myself.”
His words slowly began to sink in as you hugged the book closer to yourself, staring at your lap as you bit your lip to hold back a proud smile. He really had matured, and he had a way with words now, that part was for sure.
“Give me a chance…please?”
You took a deep breath before looking up at him, “I’m not an easy person.”
“I am aware.”
“I have a temper.”
“No, you just can’t stand stupid people.”
“You think you’re not stupid?"
“No, I’m a little dumb, but I think you find that cute, otherwise you would’ve fired me.”
You chuckled at his shot, turning your chair around to face the computer so he wouldn’t be able to see the way your cheeks flushed at the feeling that had begun to blossom within you, especially when he kept staring at you with that warm smile.
“You think you can make some room for me in your agenda now?”
With a slight nod, you stared at your keyboard before mumbling, a little, “I think I can…”
“Good, because you already managed to make your way into mine.”
You didn’t respond to that, you didn’t need to, especially when he tapped your table and walked out of your cubicle to get back to work, walking into his cubicle, fully aware of the fact that the cavity in his chest was finally filled with a heart that was rapidly beating for him, much like how his was in your chest, in synch, especially when the two of your made eye contact over the divider, your eyes shying away from his pleasantly surprised crescents, his chuckle catching your ears that burnt brighter than a rose on full bloom.
“Choi San.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for believing in me.”
“Never doubted you for a second, Pres, this time, let me hold the ladder for ya.”
Just like that something had shifted, from a dull ache that had enveloped you over the years of solitude and resilience, to something else, something softer had enveloped you, something warmer, something safer- a feeling that was new to you, but not to him, he had felt this before, he had felt it the moment you had walked into the office with your head held up high, defending him like it was just another Tuesday. Guess this time it was only a bit different because he wouldn’t be staring up at you in disbelief and helplessness, no, this time, he’d be standing there, head held up high, chest puffed out in pride, hand locked with yours, ready to head straight into whatever was going to come at you two.
You stared at the two red lines and took a deep breath before staring at your reflection in the mirror, trying to think of a reason why this test could've been wrong too, like the other 55 that you had tried- don't ask how.
Tossing the wrapped test in the bin, you splashed cold water on your face, standing there with your fingertips pressing against the cold rim of the sink- cold, you needed something colder to ground you. With a deep breath, you turn to look at the place that seemed to be calling you before you mumbled, “Shit”.
You sunk deeper into the tub, curling into a ball, closing your eyes, as if the light was bothering you, which wasn't really possible because you had turned off the lights before using the tub for its actual purpose. Frankly, you didn't know how long you were there for, but at this point, you wished you stayed there forever
.
The man walked into the penthouse, slamming the door close behind him as he tossed his keys aside, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension, “I'm so sick of Hongjoong.” He mumbled to himself before pulling his jacket off and throwing it on the couch, it was only then when he realised the place was a bit too quiet.
Instinctively, the Great Duke of North reached for the gun but stopped and thought for a moment, remembering what he was told last time when he used the gun in the house, “You use that thing in here, and you can expect to see the divorce papers.” Clicking his tongue, his hand recoiled. Who cares about a few holes or gunpowder on the furniture? They could always just throw it away and buy a new one, she was sissy, tsk.
Walking towards their bedroom, his eyes trailed the dark hallway like a panther, stalking its prey, slow but firm, steady steps, calculated and precise. He opened the bedroom door to find the bed unmade, her clothes scattered across her floor, well, so were his. Perhaps they were a bit rushed last night, or at least she was; it had been a while since he had seen her take the lead. The real question was, did she have an assignment today? It wasn't like her to leave things…like this.
With an evident frown, the man walked over to your side, picked up your pillow, and sniffed it. He couldn't smell anyone else, so no intruder. He glanced at the curtains that were pushed to one side, something you'd do in the morning as soon as you'd wake- shit.
You didn't know how long you were asleep for, but as soon as the washroom door opened, you sat up, aiming the barrel at the bastard, ready to blow his head off.
“Relax, it's me.” He sighed, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of her, eyes flickering to every visible inch of her being to look for any injuries.
“Oh, so I can't use a gun in the house, but you can?” He mumbled, helping you out of the tub as he picked you up by the waist, almost as if you weighed like nothing, smiling to himself when you instinctively wrapped yourself around him, arms secure around his neck, face pressed into the warm skin, legs locked over his waist. If he wasn't concerned about the reason behind this incident, he would have just ravished you like-
“I'm pregnant.”
Not a beat later you were hurled onto the bed, your wrists pinned beside your head, his leg parting yours as you frowned up at the lunatic who looked down at you with no expression whatsoever, ah, so romantic- well, he had ensured not to put any form or weight or pressure on your belly, so you could take that as a sign.
“What do you want to do with it?”
“Me?” You asked, confused, blinking up at him as he quietly nodded before leaning closer and pressing his forehead against yours, “This was not planned. Therefore, it is my mistake, it's your body, you just give me permission to access it and-”
His monologue was cut off with a painful groan escaping his lips as he curled into a ball next to you, hissing in pain, holding onto his poor manhood, mumbling, “Sicko.”
“For 5 minutes,” you pushed him onto his back and straddled him, cupping his face so he was looking at you, “Can we not talk like this is an operation, I- this is serious! I-I don't know? I took like 56 tests and…and…I thought we were careful- I can't bring a baby into his shitty world.” You took a deep breath and tried to blink away the tears before leaning back, staring up at the ceiling, too afraid to look at him. Only then did you notice him gently holding your waist, keeping you balanced. That only added to the rush of emotions as you blinked away the tears, “I…how do I give her a normal life?”
“Her? It’s a girl?”
His sweet whisper caught your attention as you adjusted your position to lie on top of him, head resting on his collarbone as you mumbled, snuggling into him, “I can't know right now, Sannie…I'd like a girl, though- do you want a son?” You didn’t want to know the answer, too afraid, what if he said yes- could your potential child be living the same life you had to live?
“Girl.”
“Huh?” You tilted your head up to glance up at him, only to find him blinking up at the ceiling, “I want a girl…but even if it’s a boy I don’t mind…as long as you want this…as long as you’re happy…as long as it's with you.” Slowly, his grip on you tightened, subconsciously pulling you closer, as if he was afraid that you’d disappear.
“With…me?”
“Who else…”
It was odd, this feeling; it was very new to both of you, considering neither of you had grown up in favourable conditions. One of you had lost his entire family, spending his remaining days of childhood in an orphanage where he was abused and bullied, until he met Hongjoong. While you...you were born into a family of assassins, and you were supposed to be the top protege son that your father could proudly boast about. Unfortunately for him, you were not a boy, due to this very reason, having a family was perhaps worse, in your case, than not having one.
You remember the day San had sauntered into your family mansion as quiet as a kitten, as intimidating as a melanistic leopard.
Hongjoong had given him specific instructions not to harm the women or the children, not that he would have, he had read in the files how your family would treat the women poorly, where some who were prettier were rented, or used as breeders, and the less fortunate ones would be disposed of. At that moment, he had not understood why Hongjoong had sent him on this mission; it wasn’t like the family was bothering Ateez’s agenda, but since he was nothing but loyal to his friends and to Hongjoong, he didn’t question it. Once Choi San had walked up the pavement towards the steps leading up to the grand double doors, his steps faltered at the last step, greeted with the sight of a young woman perched upon the edge of the marble step, swirling a glass of - seemed a bit too thick to be wine- between her nimble fingers.
“Miss,” He smiled sweetly, ignoring the way you sat there barefoot, covered in grime and blood, the backless dress you wore partially torn, his eyes never casting lower out of respect, “Are you alright?” At the lack of your response, he hummed, nodding to himself before the mountainous man shed his coat, carefully draping it over your bare shoulders, saddened at how even then you were too far gone to look at him, monotonously continuing with your motion, staring into the dead of the night. “Stay here, I’ll just be gone for a few minutes, and then we’ll get you somewhere safe.” With that, he walked past you, shaking his head in disbelief. At this point, he was certain that the extinction of the male species of humanity may be a dire need.
“One…two…three…four…five…si-”
The fast approaching footsteps had cut off your countdown, tilting your head up to look at the man standing right behind you, too busy staring at the godly sculpted body -that dress shirt was a hindrance- to care about the way he had been glaring down at you.
You had looked so innocent, so naive, so kind and caring, yet the massacre he had witnessed inside had led him to one conclusion- you were the devil in disguise.
“Never test a woman’s patience.”
That is what you had told him, taking a gulp of the liquid before tossing the glass away, leaning back against his legs, noticing how he did not flinch at the sound of the glass shattering.
“Did you kill them?”
“You mean purified them.”
“The women and…the children too?”
“All of us deserve to die.”
With that, you had stood up, slipping off his coat and folding it neatly, before turning to look at him, almost losing your footing on the step, that is, until his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, as he glared down at you, “Then why are you still alive?”
“Well, I was gonna off myself, but then a stranger barged into my home and used me like a coat hanger.”
“You were shivering,” He had mumbled, blinking at you before looking over your head, staring at the sky, blue hour, the only time of the 24 hours that made him feel at peace. When it was quiet, but not silent. When it was cold, but not chilly. When it was warm, but not hot. When it was all breathing, but not alive. A kind of limbo he had preferred, a state of being caught in the middle, between the black and the white. He glanced down at you when you rested your forehead against him and sighed, leaning your weight against him.
“Be gone, or you may be blamed for this…this is my masterpiece that I deserve credit for.”“What happens when you take your life?”“It comes to a stop. My life began without my will, but it will end at the time and place I desire.”
You had tried to pull back, but the man did not budge, though that did not mean that it was impossible for you- you had killed those who were bigger than him, stronger than him. Perhaps you were too tired to fight at the moment, or perhaps you wanted to see where this would go. Especially when he had flung you over his shoulder, casually walking down the marble steps, into the rising sun, “I had read about you, seen your work, I just didn’t know you were a woman! I was unaware that your family let women into this line of work.”
That dawn Choi San had come to two conclusions, firstly, you were in fact, not only your father’s finest created monster gone loose, but a creature that had decided it was time to begin anew. Secondly, Hongjoong had not sent him there to end your bloodline, he had sent San there to get their newest recruit- which perhaps the captain regretted later, once he noticed how the mountain of a man would crumble into a heap of mess when the woman they had recruited would just as much as roll her eyes at him- his best soldier was smitten.
“Do you…want it?” San asked again, sitting up, pulling you with him, manoeuvring you to sit against him as he settled against the bedframe, your back pressed against his chest, as the man locked his arms around your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he could get a better look at you.
You hummed in response, turning to press your lips against his jaw before whispering against his skin, “On one condition.”
“Anything you want.” He whispered, closing his eyes as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing at the feeling of your pulse, “Even if you don’t want-”
“We need to quit.”
He froze at the statement, too afraid to look at you, too afraid to think of Hongjoong. This wasn’t a test. He knew it. Often, when you’d request something, it was nonnegotiable; it was either done your way or you’d find an alternate solution. Most of the time, he’d agree with you, why? For no real reason, deep down, he knew that between the two of you, you were a bit more… traumatised, regardless of how skilled you were; it was his responsibility to help you heal, little by little. Nobody had asked him to do so, but unlike how everyone saw you, a cruel, coldhearted misandrist, he could see past all that, see the little girl who was treated worse than a low-ranked soldier in the battalion of a tyrant.
You were about to speak a the lack of response, but gasped at the little nip on your neck, hand smacking the back of the massive head of your lover, who whined, at your reaction at his supposed loving action, causing him to gently press his lips against the flushed patch of skin before he pressed his cheek against yours, “Of course, why would we want our princess to not live a normal life?”
His words caught you off guard as you relaxed against him, closing your eyes to relish his love that he had enveloped you within, he truly was a godsent blessi-
“You gotta save me from Joong, though, he won’t say anything to you, but he might shoot me.”
“Choi San.”
“Yes, dove?”
“Grow up.”
“Understo-”
“And take your hand out of my shirt.”
He giggled, turning to give your cheek a big’ol smooch before mumbling on your skin, “Was trynna feel the baby.”
“You know you can’t right- the where the baby is supposed to be, not up there, creep.”
“I am but a concerned father making sure my baby princess’s milk is stocked up-SORRY-”
Cocking the gun, you watched the man jump off the bed, laughing like a maniac as he ran out of the room, only to hear him yell at the top of his lungs when you shot at the wall, “MISSED ME, MRS.CHOI!”
A/N: This is a 2 part mini series. There is a possibility that I use this set AU for drabbles as well. If you'd like to stay up date, please save this post because it will serve as a master list for this AU's fics🥰.
Teaser below
Prequel
Sequel
Firecracker
You had tried to pull back but the man did not budge, though that did not mean that it was impossible for you- you had killed those who were bigger than him, stronger than him. Perhaps you were too tired to fight at the moment, or perhaps you wanted to see where this would go. Especially when he had flung you over his shoulder, casually walking down the marble steps, into the rising sun, “I had read about you, seen your work, I just didn’t know you were a woman! I was unaware that your family let women into this line of work.”
That dawn Choi San had come to two conclusions, firstly; you were in fact, not only your father’s finest created monster gone loose, but a creature that had decided it was time to begin anew. Secondly, Hongjoong had not sent him there to end your bloodline, he had sent San there to get their newest recruit- which perhaps the captain regretted later, once he noticed how the mountain of a man would crumble into a heap of mess when the woman they had recruited would just as much as roll her eyes at him- his best soldier was smitten.
Summary: It's all worth it at the end, especially when he looks at the two of you.
Genre: Fluff
Rating: SFW
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1055
Est.Read Time: 5 min
Song Rec: Choose- Ateez
“Wake him…up?” You stared at your son, who had run out of your bedroom and into the open kitchen with a toy hammer in hand. The little replica of his father nodded up at you with a face so chubby yet so serious that you had to hold back your cuteness aggression- you knew if you had chosen to not take this seriously, he'd throw a fit like his father.
Your four year old raised the toy hammer and boinked it on his head, “Here” and then boinked it on his butt, which he explicitly showed you by turning around and hitting his behind, “Here- but he's K.O'ed.”
At this point, you really wished you were recording him; it already amused you and Jongho when your boy spoke oh so seriously with his minimal vocabulary- but this, this was new. You quietly nodded at his actions before crossing your arms over your chest, trying to look intimidating. Whatever this was, he was not supposed to be hitting people with his hammer, especially his father, “But why are you trying to wake him up? Especially like that?”
“Cebause, lunch with appa and you- but he’s K.O’ed.”
Jong-su, your son, was smart for his age; you knew that. He was mannered too, maybe that’s why there were times where you and your husband would forget that he is, afterall, just a kid- a kid with the straightforward mentality as your husband…not to mention he could be as pretentious and obnoxious as his father. Hence, you felt the need to tell him to behave, which you did as you placed him in his baby chair near the table, next to his father's usual seat, “Okay, but we don't hit others, especially your parents.”
“Not hit. Fix.” He countered and pointed at the PS5 console in the livingroom, oh…so he heard you two last night.
You held back a snort, thinking to yourself, "That's right, lovely boy, your appa needed to be fixed, especially when I told him he needs to fix his sleep schedule, otherwise he'd wake up tired on the weekend too.” Nonetheless, you plucked the plastic toy out of his hands and squished his cheeks with your freehand before pressing a quick peck on his head, “Stay here, kay? I'm gonna wake up your appa, and then we'll have lunch.” It’s not like he could go anywhere anyway, but still, best to tell an inquisitive child to sit still, we don’t want him fixing anything else, now do we?
You walked into your room and looked at the bed, only to find it empty and mumbling to yourself about the cushions you found on the floor, no manners, nothing, like a grown child. He’d argue that if you can’t use them, then why were they on the bed? For aesthetic purposes, but you knew that it was difficult to get such concepts into his big, thick skull, maybe you should use the hammer on him too.
“Wife.”
“Husband.”
He pouted at your boring response, walking out of the washroom, watching you make the bed only to whine and sit in between you and the bed, ignoring your glare, before reaching for your hand and placing it on a bump on his forehead, one of the three bumps on his forehead, “I don’t know what happened, but I have these weird bumps- kinda hurt too.”
“Hmmm…” you leaned closer to inspect the damage before pressing a chaste kiss on his forehead and pulling back, “You’ll have a bruise on your big butt too-”
“I do. How th- did you do something weird?” he raised a brow before rising to his feet and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him, lips curling into a mischievous smile as you placed your hands on his shoulders, as you looked up at him.
“Maybe don’t buy your little man toys that are tools.”
“He hit me?”
“He was trying to ‘fix’ you. I think he overheard me telling you to fix your sleep schedule, and he wants to have lunch with the whole family.” You smiled up at him, before patting his shoulders and pulling out of his hold, reaching for his hand, knowing he would casually thread his fingers with yours on pure instinct as you led him out of the room, “We’re raising a brat.”
“No, I think it’s good, he has family values.”
You ignored his nonsense and motioned for him to sit, only he gently pushed you to sit down instead, pushing your chair closer to the table before he walked off into the kitchen. He lifted the lid of the pot and smiled, “Nice, love me a woman who knows how to cook her protein.” After that, he looked up to look at your disgusted expression, giving you a pleased smirk as he began to plate your food for you, for his family.
Turning back to your child, you smiled at him as he gave you the warmest smile he could muster. He truly was adorable, “Jong-su, you didn’t fix him all the way, he’s still a bit broken.”
Jongho rolled his eyes as he placed a plate in front of you and then a Spiderman bowl in front of his lovable spoiled mini-version, about to praise him for being so adorable, smart, cute and-
“Not broken, appa fat.”
“Fat?”
You cackle echoed throughout the house, your son giggling at the sight of his mother laughing at his little joke- did he know it was a joke or was it a general observation? Nah, definitely a joke. He knew his little boy was quick-witted like his parents, but was he mature enough to have a sibling now? Jongho didn’t know, but the sight of his loving family, laughing away, sitting together on a lazy late Sunday afternoon, made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, a feeling he could never get used to, never get enough of. The kind of feeling that would motivate him every day to work harder, try harder and be better, a better husband and a better father, all so he could see the reasons for his existence flourish in happiness and joy. He smiled quietly to himself as he watched you begin to feed Jong-su, and only one question echoed in his mind, “So…this is love?”
Thank you @honeybbie 😝 I- husband Jongho has everyone (including me going insane) -Jong-su is but a version of his papa😏 ...we all love Jjong like that- i know this man covers up to protect our sanity. I'm glad you liked it~ :3
Summary: Rumours were not something you could run away from. Unfortunately, the same rule applied to him- couldn't run away from him too.
Genre: Hurt + Comfort
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 2.6 K
Est.Read Time: 11 min
A/N: I need to fix my sleep schedule- anyway, i love the middle pic, very Yuyu.
“Hey.”
You stopped in your tracks, glancing to look at the source of the voice, the suited man sitting there on a bench, staring at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes- he knew. To be honest, you had been avoiding him for the past three days, which was quite awkward considering the two of you had been a part of the same group project. It was not out of spite; it was merely a conflicting avoiding tactic. You were the group leader, but that did not mean you had the duty of discussing situations between your closest friend and potentially the boy wonder. To add spice to the wound, there had been a few rumours about you fluttering around, and the last thing you needed was your group to start doubting your credibility.
“Hi.”
For someone who was avoiding him, you somehow found yourself sitting on the same bench as him, your bag between you, in the cold winter night, staring at the empty ground. Perhaps deep down you wanted to talk to him about it- no, no, you were just curious if he too was as gullible as the rest, because God forbid if he was, then he really wasn't worth pinning over for half a year.
Yunho crossed one leg over the other before tilting his head to glance at you, the person in the group who had, he had noticed since day one, been bottling up everything- diffusing situations was one thing, but relentlessly giving into the nonsense pleas of your friend was another.
The worst part was that he knew she would do that to offend him, and although he was not mad at you, he was upset that someone he held in such high regard was beating around the bush instead of dealing with the scene your friend had caused during their group meeting. What confused him more was how your friend had reacted and how you let her- a part of him assumed there must have been something else going on, right? He knew you for someone outspoken, would take sides, often backed by logic, someone who would not be afraid to look anyone in the eye and shoot them down for being a nuisance to society, especially when it came to your academics. That is why he joined your group. He knew Mingi was generally compliant and that usually you'd be the type to take the lead easily, but yesterday's argument had the man wonder if you really were as capable as he had perceived you to be.
“Stop it.”
His eyes flickered up from your face to your eyes, focusing on your expressions, but not saying anything. If you had to say something, then he'd give you the opportunity to, which is why he tilted his head a bit, raising an eyebrow quizzically, ignoring the tingling sensation on his cheeks as the cold wind caressed his warm skin, adding a faint fairy-like blush across his handsome face- one that you noticed immediately.
“Stop psychoanalysing me. If you wanna believe what they say, that's fine, but don't study me like a lab rat.”
Yunho couldn't help but frown at the choice of your words…so…bitter. Not about him, but about yourself. So he was right, those things he had heard were perhaps true, which is why you were so agitated. Maybe you were the person that the people had begun to ta-
“You're just like them.”
Your hushed whisper caught him off guard, sitting up straight as he turned to face you, only for you to stand up and pick up your bag and blink at him before looking away to take a deep breath, before turning to glare at him, “You can change groups if you want, say and believe whatever you want about me. I'm used to this nonsense, but if I hear you spew nonsense about her, I'll ruin you and those clowns.”
Before you could take a step, he hummed, “So, you let her throw a fit yesterday so she could blow off some steam?” He stood up, towering over you, hands stuffed in his coat, bending over to look at you, trying to read the whole monologue that was swirling behind your eyes, “Do you blame yourself for this?”
The moment he noticed the glossy look, he sighed, before reaching over to gently tug your back out of your grip, slipping it off your shoulder to place it on the cold bench.
“I don't believe them, but I don't know if I can believe someone who's been avoiding me like the plague either.”
That was all it took for you to sit back on the bench with him, only this time, there was nothing in between you. No bags, no files, no awkward silence, no hidden glances. Almost as if that was enough to trigger you, to open the floodgates as he leaned against the bench, clasping his hands to ground himself as he watched you slowly deflate as you continued to speak- he was wrong, you were not a liar, but you were not smart either, in fact, you were just too good to be true. There had been someone, then a group of people, bad mouthing you to an unimaginable extent and you had...no idea?
“And this ho- no, she isn't a hoe, she's-she's a MENACE!” You continued, “And me!? I'm so f*cking stupid I didn't even know she was going around saying that about me!” The more the lore unfolded, the louder you got, “And then she drags Yewon?! Character assassination left and right!” Swiftly, you turned to look at him and then frowned, “And you!”
“Me?” He exasperated, eyebrows touching his hairline in both amusement and shock, amused because this is the same person who’d avoid eye contact with him, she’d go quiet around him, usually agree with what he said- of course, unless it was related to work. Shock, because, “You’re the one who took Yewon’s side, you knew she was wrong-”
“Took her side?! Both of you were wrong and idiots- at least she had a reason to be pissy, what was your excuse?”
“I-”
“No! Shut up!” you exasperated, turning to face him, moving even closer, “YOU- you believed them-”
“I didn’t!” he argued, only for you to wave your hand in dismissal and scoff, “Even so, which moron argues about the colour of the slides when in reality all of you had spent an hour researching about the wrong topic.”
“I-” Yunho was…speechless, as he stared at your sneer at him, taking your phone out of your pocket, and hastily tapping against the screen as you mumbled, “I can’t believe I trusted you! You’re as useless as any other man, just cause you’re handsome, tall and occasionally smart-”
“You think I’m hands-OCCASIONALLY?”
“SILENCE!” you shoved your phone in his face, so close that he gently gripped your wrist to push it back a bit before reading the screen, ignoring your current nagging because even though he admired your dedication and intellect, how was he supposed to read if you were yelling his head off- oh…they really were going in the opposite direction, huh…
Clearing his throat, he lowered your hand, not letting go of it. It was fine, as long as you didn’t notice, otherwise you’d be a mess. Truth be told, this was the most normal conversation the two of you had had. Most of the time, you’d be awkward or quiet around him, as if you were too afraid to be perceived, and the only time he did see you in action was during presentations or any other academic opportunity that required you to take charge. Again, that’s why he had decided to join your group…and to see if the rumours were true or not.
“I mean, I knew Yewon had too many things on her mind, Mingi is a facecard- I mean don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy and efficient one too, but sometimes he’s lost in his own world, but you,” you pouted up at him, before sighing in defeat and looking at your lap, “I didn’t... I thought I could rely on you if I was late…should’ve known you were too busy playing detective to care. Not all of us have the pretty privilege like you, you know, and most importantly, some of us actually care about our grades-”
“Do you think I’m that pretty?”
Without a care in the world you scoffed and leaned back against the bench, almost manspreading, “Duh, why do you think everybody wants to be your friend?” waving your free hand without a care in the world, “And the ladies are all over ya- you really dumb? It’s pretty evident,” tilting your head backwards you stared at the dark, starless sky, “You get on my nerves Jeong.” It was probably going to snow, great, just great. You had wasted an hour here with a good-looking pretentious moron, your work was wrong because this guy and your groupmates didn’t bother reading the course brief and all because you were an hour late to the group meeting- and let’s not talk about that devil’s illegitimate spawn going around spewing nonsense about you, oh if the law did not forbid you from beating someone up, you would have-
“If I get on your nerves…then why didn’t you let go of my hand?”
“Huh?”
All of a sudden, you realised what was going on, especially when he raised his hand to show you how somehow the two of you had been sitting there with interlocked hands, his palm pressed against yours, as he smiled at you, tilting his head, showing you how he held your phone in his other hand. You watched him bring your hand closer to him, ignoring how you were now shivering in nervousness, before pressing his lips on the back of your hand, before gently lowering your hand that was still locked with his as he looked at you with a glint in his eyes- shit, he was in his full confidence mode.
“I do apologise for my carelessness, playing detective was really not smart…especially when you were this stressed.”
He casually smiled at you before letting out a chuckle at the way your face had flushed, hand struggling against his, “L-let go! Y-Yunho!”
“Aw, but you said all those nice things about me!”
“Everyone says this- you creep!” You snatched your hand away. He was insane, god, you hated self-aware men, this was-
“I only care about what you think.”
You sat there quietly, blinking up at him, taking in his gentle features, unsure if it had warmed up because the wind had stopped or because of the feeling that had begun to simmer within you, your heart struggling to keep up with the way your brain was asking it to work in overdrive. Yunho nodded at you before placing your phone in your hand, and smiled, “I’m sorry, I should have asked you about those rumours directly…I was just worried that perhaps if they were true…I don’t think I would have been able to accept that the person I had been admiring for over a year turned out to be bad.”
“Over…a year,” you whispered to yourself, least bothered about anything else; that is all you could register.
He nodded as he turned to face you completely, “I did, that’s why I tried to talk to you so many times, but then you barely gave me a reaction, which was ironic because Mingi literally told me how you send him brain-rot reels all the time, but I received nothing more than a ‘hello’ in class.”
“I’ll kill Song,” you spat, too embarrassed to look him in the eye, that bastard was ruining your image-
Yunho gently pinched your chin, making you look up at him as he smiled, “Didn’t know I was the one getting the special treatment…huh?” he leaned closer and pouted at the way you averted your gaze, “See…you’re back at it, you go all quiet- I won’t judge you! I like it when you’re yourself…you should be like that with me.”
“Being myself has people hating me.”
He clicked his tongue and shook his head, before mumbling rather eerily, “We’ll deal with that later. If someone hates you because you surpass them, then they either do better or suck it up; there’s no in between.”
Your eyes flickered to his face, meeting his gaze, taking in the way he looked at your with so much pride, as if all this time he had been watching you make something out of yourself, as if all this time he was a quiet, proud supporter, watching you from the sidelines- only now, you wanted him to come out of there and stand beside you.
“I was glad that this semester I was grouped with you- only went south because of the rumours.”
“Yeah…” you whispered, finally speaking up before you pulled out of his hold and stood up, quietly picking up your bag, much to his surprise. Frankly, he did not know how to react; he was expecting a different kind of reaction, though you just slowly turned away and started to walk back to the campus. He sat there, extremely puzzled and heartbroken, staring at his lap, unsure if he had offended you. Maybe you didn’t like him like that, maybe he read the situation wrong, and you were looking for someone to believe you, but here he was confessing for no reason. He wouldn’t be surprised though, Mingi had told him how in one of his ‘wing man’ attempts you had told him how you had no time and interest in love, and that most men were a disappointment anyways- he had disappointed you; he didn’t ask you directly, he added to your stress by being inefficient at work and now confessed-
“JEONG, HURRY UP!”
“Huh?” he looked up from his lap at you, squinting at you. You were so far…away, but so loud…it was like you were standing next to him.
“ACT USEFUL AND HURRY UP, YOU EXPECT ME TO FIX YOUR MISTAKE FOR YOU CAUSE YOU JUST CONFESSED- TYPICAL MAN-BEHAVIOUR!”
His lips curved into a soft smile as he stood up, shaking his head in defeat. This is what he had asked for, no? It didn’t matter what you were saying, because you didn’t move an inch after finishing your monologue. More importantly, he noticed the evident blush; he could see you were trying your hardest to process your feelings, especially when he jogged up to you, and you showed him your hand, signalling for something. Something that made his heart flutter as he laced his fingers with yours, following after you as you started to speed walk towards the library, “Quick, before someone takes the cubicle at the back, I didn’t pack snacks to get caught, that’s the only cubicle we won’t be disturbed in- that and I think I might change the whole concept of our slides, oh well, we’ll see.”
He watched you continue talking about work, as if nothing had changed, but as a matter of fact a lot had changed. You were still talking about work with him, but your hand was in his, you were still walking ahead to avoid eye contact, but every few seconds you’d glance back at him before looking away, you were still in the zone to lock in, but this time, your chair was right next to his and you looked up at him and mumbled, confirming the presence of change earning hearty laugh from him, “Thank you- even though it took you like a century to like figure it out, but we’ll let that slide because that face card is so strong.”
Summary: It's all worth it at the end, especially when he looks at the two of you.
Genre: Fluff
Rating: SFW
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1055
Est.Read Time: 5 min
Song Rec: Choose- Ateez
“Wake him…up?” You stared at your son, who had run out of your bedroom and into the open kitchen with a toy hammer in hand. The little replica of his father nodded up at you with a face so chubby yet so serious that you had to hold back your cuteness aggression- you knew if you had chosen to not take this seriously, he'd throw a fit like his father.
Your four year old raised the toy hammer and boinked it on his head, “Here” and then boinked it on his butt, which he explicitly showed you by turning around and hitting his behind, “Here- but he's K.O'ed.”
At this point, you really wished you were recording him; it already amused you and Jongho when your boy spoke oh so seriously with his minimal vocabulary- but this, this was new. You quietly nodded at his actions before crossing your arms over your chest, trying to look intimidating. Whatever this was, he was not supposed to be hitting people with his hammer, especially his father, “But why are you trying to wake him up? Especially like that?”
“Cebause, lunch with appa and you- but he’s K.O’ed.”
Jong-su, your son, was smart for his age; you knew that. He was mannered too, maybe that’s why there were times where you and your husband would forget that he is, afterall, just a kid- a kid with the straightforward mentality as your husband…not to mention he could be as pretentious and obnoxious as his father. Hence, you felt the need to tell him to behave, which you did as you placed him in his baby chair near the table, next to his father's usual seat, “Okay, but we don't hit others, especially your parents.”
“Not hit. Fix.” He countered and pointed at the PS5 console in the livingroom, oh…so he heard you two last night.
You held back a snort, thinking to yourself, "That's right, lovely boy, your appa needed to be fixed, especially when I told him he needs to fix his sleep schedule, otherwise he'd wake up tired on the weekend too.” Nonetheless, you plucked the plastic toy out of his hands and squished his cheeks with your freehand before pressing a quick peck on his head, “Stay here, kay? I'm gonna wake up your appa, and then we'll have lunch.” It’s not like he could go anywhere anyway, but still, best to tell an inquisitive child to sit still, we don’t want him fixing anything else, now do we?
You walked into your room and looked at the bed, only to find it empty and mumbling to yourself about the cushions you found on the floor, no manners, nothing, like a grown child. He’d argue that if you can’t use them, then why were they on the bed? For aesthetic purposes, but you knew that it was difficult to get such concepts into his big, thick skull, maybe you should use the hammer on him too.
“Wife.”
“Husband.”
He pouted at your boring response, walking out of the washroom, watching you make the bed only to whine and sit in between you and the bed, ignoring your glare, before reaching for your hand and placing it on a bump on his forehead, one of the three bumps on his forehead, “I don’t know what happened, but I have these weird bumps- kinda hurt too.”
“Hmmm…” you leaned closer to inspect the damage before pressing a chaste kiss on his forehead and pulling back, “You’ll have a bruise on your big butt too-”
“I do. How th- did you do something weird?” he raised a brow before rising to his feet and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him, lips curling into a mischievous smile as you placed your hands on his shoulders, as you looked up at him.
“Maybe don’t buy your little man toys that are tools.”
“He hit me?”
“He was trying to ‘fix’ you. I think he overheard me telling you to fix your sleep schedule, and he wants to have lunch with the whole family.” You smiled up at him, before patting his shoulders and pulling out of his hold, reaching for his hand, knowing he would casually thread his fingers with yours on pure instinct as you led him out of the room, “We’re raising a brat.”
“No, I think it’s good, he has family values.”
You ignored his nonsense and motioned for him to sit, only he gently pushed you to sit down instead, pushing your chair closer to the table before he walked off into the kitchen. He lifted the lid of the pot and smiled, “Nice, love me a woman who knows how to cook her protein.” After that, he looked up to look at your disgusted expression, giving you a pleased smirk as he began to plate your food for you, for his family.
Turning back to your child, you smiled at him as he gave you the warmest smile he could muster. He truly was adorable, “Jong-su, you didn’t fix him all the way, he’s still a bit broken.”
Jongho rolled his eyes as he placed a plate in front of you and then a Spiderman bowl in front of his lovable spoiled mini-version, about to praise him for being so adorable, smart, cute and-
“Not broken, appa fat.”
“Fat?”
You cackle echoed throughout the house, your son giggling at the sight of his mother laughing at his little joke- did he know it was a joke or was it a general observation? Nah, definitely a joke. He knew his little boy was quick-witted like his parents, but was he mature enough to have a sibling now? Jongho didn’t know, but the sight of his loving family, laughing away, sitting together on a lazy late Sunday afternoon, made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, a feeling he could never get used to, never get enough of. The kind of feeling that would motivate him every day to work harder, try harder and be better, a better husband and a better father, all so he could see the reasons for his existence flourish in happiness and joy. He smiled quietly to himself as he watched you begin to feed Jong-su, and only one question echoed in his mind, “So…this is love?”
Summary: You thought you were finally free. You thought you had finally moved on from all of it. What you did not expect was for him to come find you.
Genre: Hurt+Comfort
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: isolation, language
Word Count: 4.6 K
Est.Read Time: 19 min
A/N: Did I spend several hours writing this instead of sleeping? Yes. Did I pause writing 3 short drabbles for this? Yes. Is it out of my system? Yes. Is it good? Idk, maybe.
“This…is new.” You whispered, leaning closer to look at the man who was looking at anything but your face, even though he chose to sit on the barstool next to yours, crushing the bouquet in his death grip, trying to keep his sharp tongue at bay.
“Sh-shut up.”
You didn't acknowledge the remark, only reached up to caress the hair out of his eyes. Your touch did little to calm him down, instead his body jerked on its own, too afraid of your touch. A few more seconds and he would have lost control. It didn't bother you though. It was just odd to see your fiance- ex-fiance, one who had ignored you since the day the two of you were introduced, one who had specifically told you the day you met that you were nothing like his ideal type and never will be. Your fiance who let you know, ever so bluntly, ever so boldly, ever so blatantly, “This is nothing more than a contractual marriage, don't get your hopes up, I'm not a fan of people pleasers- especially when they try to rationalise their stupidity.”
Truth be told, the day he had said that you, you were a bit more than just shocked. You were…disappointed. Sure, were you a people pleaser? Yes. Were you constantly trying to please your parents? Of course, you were the eldest; you were practically conditioned to be like that. Did you agree to this marriage without a second thought- yes, but did you do your background research? Yes. You knew he was blunt and you knew he was the oddball of his family. Still, you also knew he was good with kids because of his age gap with his youngest brother, you knew he liked animals, you knew he was fiercely protective of those he loved and you knew…he was loyal. Perhaps you wished that one day you’d be able to find someone who would be your loyal, protective pillar- and once you met him, you had deeply wished it had been him.
Unfortunately, he was not at all willing to be that pillar, especially when he showed you your true reflection, reminding you how this marriage was a mere contract. He had gone out of his way to let you know that, being late to most of your dates, barely eating and talking to you. He’d barely answer your phone, and if he did, he would hit you with, “What is the objective of this call?” There were times when he’d cancel on you at the last minute. He was least interested in any of the preparations for your wedding, the dress, the cake, the venue- but you were okay with that, you really were, because every time something like this would happen, you’d console yourself with one thought, “Once we get married, he’ll understand the real me.”
For almost half a year, it worked; your parents were happy, his parents were happy, and to some extent, you were fine with it too. The turning point came when you, who was busy picking the colour scheme of your wedding, spotted your fiancé walking towards the very shop you were in, only for him to be tackled by a woman who he caught effortlessly, one whom you recognised as his secretary. You watched the woman drag him away with ease, as if…he was hers. Maybe he was, but one thing was for certain: you were done. That night you had gone home, and decided to let your parents know that you no longer wanted to continue with this relationship, choosing to leave out the details, because at the end of the day, you knew, that the reason did not matter, for your family this marriage, much like Wooyoung, was all about business, not loyalty, not companionship and definitely not love.
Thus, the outcome was predictable; in a matter of days, you were, in a way, exiled from your family. Your inheritance, gone. Your home, gone. Your privileges, gone. A part of you resented yourself for doing this, if you had just kept your mouth shut, everything would have been fine, but you resented your parents the most- even after all this, after uncanny number of times you had agreed to do and say whatever they had wished for, it hurt you the most when you realised that neither one of your parents nor any of your siblings had tried to even ask, “Why?” That night, you realised that at the end of it all, you were always alone and perhaps you were never destined to be loved by anyone, not a significant other, not your siblings and especially not your parents. With a single suitcase, you had walked out of the house, never to look back at any of them, ready to start your life somewhere far far away.
That was more than a year ago, not that you were keeping count, to be exact, 1 year, 4 months and 12 days. You had managed to find a small town, one that was so insignificant that you knew that no one could be able to find you or recognise you here, giving you the perfect opportunity to start over again. With your job experience, you managed to attain a job as a teacher at the local school, a high school teacher. A job you were far too qualified for, but a job nonetheless, one that enabled you to get back on your feet. You were truly proud of yourself, people here liked you, respected you, respected your choices and for once in your life, you were able to decide for yourself. Your residence was a small upper portion in a house that belonged to an old couple; they were kind enough to let you stay for half the rent for almost 3 months, constantly telling you how you reminded the childless old couple of a daughter they never had. From your portion, you could see the open sea; every morning, you’d be able to watch the sunrise in peace before you started your day. In your time here your had also found a companion, a little black kitten, which you had rescued on a rainy night as you were running back from the local supermarket, it was balled up in front of your doorstep, shivering in whimpering, drenched to the bone and like the kind soul you were, you had taken it in- whom you later found out was a he, a very sassy he, which is why you had named him, “Boss”. Boss was your sole companion, watching you go about your day at home and sit with you in the evening, watching the sun set as he’d hop onto your lap, curling into you as the two of you would watch the peaceful day come to an end.
What you did not expect was that one chilly morning, as you skipped towards the school, smiling at the crunch of the snow beneath your boots, thinking of getting Boss a new toy on the way back today, was to see someone standing by the school gate- the devil himself, dressed in all black. His hair, longer than before, slicked back, sprinkled with a bit of white, soft snow, a cute contrast. He stood there in a long coat, an expensive coat, one that was way above your pay grade, hands stuffed in his pockets, glaring at the gate, with a muffler covering most of his face- he had…found you. You did not know what he was doing there, you didn’t know why he was there, and to be frank, you really didn’t want to know either, which is why that very moment you had spun on your heel and run back home, calling in sick to work.
That…was on a Monday, today…was Friday. You did not know that you’d be so afraid of him that you’d skip work for five days. At this point you were sure that if the school really didn’t need you, they would have definitely fired you. At this point, you didn’t even know what to do, you’d contacted some of your spies, a few female students who had started gossiping about a good-looking man in black, who’d be outside the schoolgate everyday, standing in the snow, looking around till school started and then he’d disappear. They had never seen his face, but it was natural for teenage girls to crush over someone so mysterious, and who were you to ruin their fantasies by telling them he was a mere cheater, a good-looking bastard, one with so many qualities you wished your partner would have, but life was not rainbows and butterflies. The girls had told you how he was finally confronted by a homeroom teacher, and although they did not know what had happened, they did confirm that the teacher assured all students that the man would no longer be bothering them. Good right? That was good news, he was gone- then why did you find yourself drinking on a Friday night at the local pub? Sitting in a corner, sulking in a corner, quietly staring at your empty cup, asking for one after another, until you were tipsy, tipsy enough to somehow hallucinate your ex-fiancé sitting next to you, dressed in one of his finest suits, with a bouquet in his hand, glaring at you with disgust- ah, truly Wooyoung, a very true hallucination, because for the whole time you had known the man, he had looked at you with nothing but pure disgust in his eyes. It was shameful how your itty-bitty heart would still beat for him from time to time.
Wooyoung frowned at your state, his grip tightening on the bouquet as you reached to touch him, only for him to jerk away at the slightest touch. He had spent over a year looking for you, and the first time he had seen you after so long, it was from a distance, running away from him; he was too late. Now, now that he had finally found you again, thanks to the help of that school teacher, here you were, drinking away like this- he had thought you were better than this. That day, he had thought you would march up to him, yell at him for ruining his life, hit him for being the reason behind your exile- say something. He did not expect you to run away, nor did he expect you to hide for a week; most importantly, he did not take you for someone who’d drink away in fear. You had spent a whole year on your own, turned your life around, made something out of yourself, surrounded by people who valued you and respected you, so why were you still so afraid to confront him?
“You’re drunk.” he mumbled, gripping your wrist, moving it away from his face, his other hand placing the bouquet on the counter as he looked for your belongings.
“I am tipsy, stupid good-looking hallucination, now, be gone.” with that you snatched your wrist out of his hand and tried to stand up, only the sudden movement caused you to lose your footing, almost falling over, only for him to catch you midfall, pulling you up as you leaned against him, mumbling, “If only…you were this nice to me back then.” You tried to push yourself off him, only for his hold on you to tighten, gently squeezing you in his hold, his chin on top of your head as he took a deep breath, trying to regulate his emotions, organise his thoughts, right now, he needed to get you home, needed for you to be safe, needed you to sober up- only then could he continue on with his agenda.
“Hold still, if you keep moving you’ll fall!”
You rolled your eyes at the whining, but stopped moving, letting him carry you on his back as he climbed up the stairs of your portion, only to stop in front of your door.
“Keys.”
“Stupid face, why would I give a hallucination my keys.”
“You think your hallucinations can carry you around?”
“If I manifest real hard, yeh-”
“For f*ck’s sake-” he slowly manoeuvred you off him, helping you stand upright, only for you to lean into his side, watching him take off your purse, the one that hung on his shoulder, rummaging through it for your keys. Paying no mind to it, you closed your eyes, enjoying his warmth and scent, carelessly mumbling, “You smell nice.”
“Tsk…of course I do, it’s the cologne you got me.”
In a successful attempt to find your keys, he opened the lock and walked inside, taking you with him, looking around at the small portion only to pause at the sight of a black thing on your bed, its golden eyes glaring back at him, tail swishing in frustration, before it began to tap against your bed, something you picked up. With a squeal, you pushed the man away and stumbled towards Boss, falling onto your knees in front of him as you reached out for him, “Boss, my baby, I missed you so much.”
Wooyoung could swear he saw the cat’s glare soften, especially when you crawled onto the bed and hugged it, but he was more concerned about the choice of name. Who names their snarky cat that? Pushing the thought away he took off his coat and placed it on the couch near by, walking over to your passed out form, reaching to touch your face, only to hiss and instantly pull back, gripping his hand at the pain, the sharp sting, as he noticed the cut on his palm, before glaring at the cat that stood tall beside your head, hissing at him.
“Tch…I found her before you…If you were half the man you pretend to be, you would be taking better care of her, no- am I arguing with a cat?”
.
The faint sound of someone humming stirred you out of your dreamless slumber, before reality set in seconds after, as you sat up instantly, gasping at the sight of the man, his back facing you as he stood above the stove, humming to himself- shit, how-no-what? It was all a dream, a weird hallucination, a sick trick your mind was playing on you-
“Ah, you’re finally awake.” Wooyoung glanced over his shoulder, eying the way you stared at him in shock, of course you didn’t remember, “You were a bit more than tipsy…don’t worry, your hallucination made you hangover soup.”
Truth be told, you have never had a civil conversation with this madman, so it came as no surprise when he had left you speechless with his kind words and actions, especially when he walked over to you, tray in hand, wearing your pink apron, placing it in front of you before mumbling, “Careful, it's hot.” With that, he had walked back over into the open kitchen, hissing at the cat that rubbed itself against his leg, “Oh, so now you wanna play all nice, want me to tell her how you almost sliced my hand off?” Regardless of his harsh words, you watched him pop open a can of tuna and chug it into Boss’ bowl before walking back to you and sitting at the edge of your bed, staring at you.
“Well, it’s not poisoned.”
“Why are you here?”
Your question did not, per say catch him off guard, but it did annoy him. To a point where he scowled at you, reminding you that this was the true Wooyoung, whatever that domestic crap that was going on a few minutes ago was a mere facade, and it irked you, it bothered you enough for you to toss the tray onto the floor, away from yourself, not bothered about the loud sound it made, or the way you basically broke your own dishes, too triggered by the bastard in front of you.
“Are you out of your damn mind?” Wooyoung yelled, almost jumping away at the impact, quickly glancing at your cat to make sure it was unharmed before looking back at you, granted he wanted a reaction but this-
“Why are you here?! You think just because you become all domestic, I’ll forget about what you did? What about her? What kind of sick cheater are you?”
He watched you stand up, and walk over to him, letting you grip his collar and pull him closer, though he was too busy trying to connect the dots, what did you mean by ‘her’? Who was her?
His lack of response only angered you more, as you shoved him away, and walked over to the kitchen to grab a broom and glare up at him, “Get the f*ck out of here- I’m not afraid of you, or them,” you continued your monologue as you began to clean up the mess, “I don’t know what you want from me, but you got what you wanted, you got your skank, so leave me alone! I don’t care how much they’re paying you to do this, but it isn’t worth- ”
“What on earth are you talking about?” He mumbled, cutting you off before standing up and walking over to you, towering over you. Only then did you realise how he perhaps was a bit more intimidating than you had given him credit for, flinching when he raised his hand, “Your family doesn’t give a flying f*ck about you.” His words cut in deep; they stung, but you didn’t have time for that, you were too concerned about his raised hand, waiting for some kind of sharp impact. He was right, your family never did care about you, maybe he was here on his own, out here to teach you a lesson for disrespecting him like that, ending the marriage and running off, ruining his image and reputation. He was a man respected by many, and you had left him hanging and just ended it all, disrespecting not only him but his family, his elders, his-
Wooyoung gently placed his hand on top of your head, ever so softly patting your head as if trying to soothe a feral cat, cutting your train of thought instantly, his next words completely catching you off guard, “I spent a whole year looking for you, I always wanted you to stand up for yourself, I just…didn’t know they’d toss you out like that. No one deserves to go through that, especially not someone as selfless as you.” His hand slowly trailed down to cup your cheek, tilting your head up ever so slightly so you would look at him, his gentle eyes meeting your glassy ones, “I understand that you’re upset, you have every right to be. You have suffered for no reason, and I was the root cause. I know that I am an a**hole, but what I am not is a cheater. Not once in our time together did I defile our relationship like that.”
“Th-that’s not true! I saw you with her!” you words came out as a choked sob, too defeated to push him away as you stared up at him, tears helplessly streaming down your face as you reached for him once more, gripping his shirt, “That day, at the shop, I saw her- I saw you- your stupid secretary, stop it- stop trying to play this sick game! Please just leave me alone.” Ironically, your words did not match your actions, especially when you leaned against him, your forehead resting against his chest as you slowly let out all the feelings you had bottled up since that night, “A-all I wanted was for you to see me for me- but all you did was hate me- so what if I never said no? So what if I agreed to what they said?! They were my parents, no? Was it wrong for me to meet their expectations? Was it wrong for me to expect them to love me for being obedient? How could you hate me for that? How could you be so heartless?”
Oh. So that was it.
“Silly girl.” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug, almost crushing you against him, “That day, what you saw was a mere incident, its true that that woman clung onto me, but I had no relation with her, it’s on me for not letting her go the moment I realised she had feelings for me, but what could I do when I was always occupied with the thoughts of you. That day, I was coming to that stupid shop to tell you to either take a stand or I would end this contract myself. I was not going to live my life with someone whom I did not choose.” He felt you try to push him away, only for him to hold you closer, “I don’t know why you didn’t bring this up with me. I would have told you the truth. Once I settled everything with her, I came to know about your little standoff. Truth be told, I was glad you took a stand, even before I could make my move, yet what I did not expect was for your family to toss you out like that.”
Slowly, he moved the two of you towards your couch, gently sitting you down, holding your hands as he knelt before you, looking up at you, “And you’re wrong, I never hated you, I could never hate you. You think I never saw the real you? I saw the real you the moment we first met, it only pissed me off when I realised you chose to ignore yourself in the hopes of your family being able to see the real you- how could I be your pillar of strength when your foundation of being was weak?” You looked down at him with an unreadable expression, one that excited him, one that gave him hope. He had always been able to read you before this; you were too predictable, too nice, too fake, but now, the person glaring down at him, looking down at him, analysing him- this was a completely different person, this was the real you.
“Then…why are you here?”
Ah, there it was, the curiosity, the need to rationalise events, only this time, you weren’t trying to use your logic to rationalise your stupid actions, but to rationalise the outcome of your future actions, this was his chance.
“I spent a year and a half looking for you, they didn’t even bother keeping track of their firstborn. It was truly disgusting. I was looking for you…because I wanted to apologise. I never meant for it to turn out like this. I never wanted you to suffer; you were doing pretty well on that aspect yourself, didn’t really need my help.” His head tilted in amusement, letting out a chuckle when you huffed in annoyance, but waited for him to continue, “Either way, I finally tracked you here, that day you ran away, and then you didn’t show up- all I wanted was to say I was sorry, I was even prepared to be slapped…What I did not expect was for your filthy feral feline to scratch me…nor did I expect to realise that even after so long, I still fancied you.”
“Like hell you did.”
You pulled your hands out of his hold, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring down at him, “You think I believe you? Sure, that secretary thing, yeah, maybe you weren’t cheating, your apology, fine- but don’t think for a second that I would believe you if you said you even at a mere moment of our time together, actually liked me.”
“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have tried to make it work for a year.”
You frowned at his statement, watching him finally stand up and sigh in defeat, “But every damn time,” he walked over to the mess and began to clean up, almost looking like a nagging grandma, “You’d be busy pretending to be a puppet, it was weird to see your parents pull your strings, a grown woman. I didn’t choose the cake, so you could. I didn’t choose the dress, so you could. I didn’t choose the venue, the damn music, the bloody food- all so you could, but every time, you’d let them decide! Wasn’t it enough for them to seal your fate for you with the marriage that you had to go out of your way to give them moments that were rightfully ours?!”
That’s when it hit you, he was…right. All this time, you had wanted him to care about you, to see how you were willing to do the same for him, but instead, your actions were doing nothing but dismissing him, dismissing his presence, his role as your husband, his role as your other half.
He placed the broom back in its place, tying the knot on the garbage bag before he turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow at your sunken state, “I know…I realised my approach was wrong, it was stupid but…I…” he paused, closing his eyes for a moment to take a deep breath, only to open them when he exhaled as he looked at you, staring at your lap, “I…just need to know if…you’re finally happy.”
You looked up at him, blinking away the tears before nodding, not even sparing a moment to think. You were happy, from the moment you stepped outside of that wretched place, from the moment you were able to take a deep breath of fresh air, of freedom, you were…happy.
“I am.”
Wooyoung visibly relaxed, a chuckle escaping him as he leaned against the counter, his body language as relaxed as your cats. Oh, you could see why you liked your cat being this sassy; you were just attracted to a**holes with kind hearts. He nodded and walked over to the couch, picking up his coat as he stared at you, “Good. Be happy, remain free, make your own choices-”
“Make it up to me, you a**hole.”
He flinched at the choice of words, before twitching at the way you sneered at him, you had just cut him off, his cool and mature monologue, you were as insufferable as your filthy feline companion. Did he give you the chance of freedom, or did he help create a monster, who knows, either way, he liked it. He could only nod at the statement before dropping his coat and flopping down next to you, swiftly cupping your face as he drank in your expressions, enjoying the way you maintained eye contact, “Well, I was going to, but you just had to ruin the moment. Though I don’t really like kissing on the first date.”
“You gonna ask me out on a date, Jung?”
“I mean, I was gonna ask you to marry me, but I guess a date sounds better, no? It would be a weird example to set for your student, no?
“Keep my children out of this.”
“How can I? When they were ever so kind as to tell me where you live and where I could find you on a cold Friday night.”
Ah, so that’s how he had found you tonight. Well, you would have punished those kids, but considering how you were currently being spoon-fed a warm, cooked meal by a very noisy but good-looking man, you may have to consider letting them off the hook this time. Especially when said man stroked your cheek lovingly, mumbling a gentle, “You look so hot when you boss me around-” only for him to ruin the moment. Oh, so you’d have to get used to this nonsense too…well…might as well, as long as you’d finally have him all to yourself, as long as you’d finally have someone to call yours, someone who’d see you, for you, no matter how stupid and annoying they were.
“Who the hell names their cat Boss? Like sheesh? I know I had to teach you to stand up for yourself, do I need to teach you how to give na- screw that, I’m naming our kids.”
😭😭 thank you so much! I KNOW- i cant believe I'm alive after all this year has given us~ IM SO GLAD J LIKE IT- YES WOOYO- IKR AT FIRST I WAS LIKE HMMM but then I was like nahhh this is tough love which is Woo~
Summary: You thought you were finally free. You thought you had finally moved on from all of it. What you did not expect was for him to come find you.
Genre: Hurt+Comfort
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: isolation, language
Word Count: 4.6 K
Est.Read Time: 19 min
A/N: Did I spend several hours writing this instead of sleeping? Yes. Did I pause writing 3 short drabbles for this? Yes. Is it out of my system? Yes. Is it good? Idk, maybe.
“This…is new.” You whispered, leaning closer to look at the man who was looking at anything but your face, even though he chose to sit on the barstool next to yours, crushing the bouquet in his death grip, trying to keep his sharp tongue at bay.
“Sh-shut up.”
You didn't acknowledge the remark, only reached up to caress the hair out of his eyes. Your touch did little to calm him down, instead his body jerked on its own, too afraid of your touch. A few more seconds and he would have lost control. It didn't bother you though. It was just odd to see your fiance- ex-fiance, one who had ignored you since the day the two of you were introduced, one who had specifically told you the day you met that you were nothing like his ideal type and never will be. Your fiance who let you know, ever so bluntly, ever so boldly, ever so blatantly, “This is nothing more than a contractual marriage, don't get your hopes up, I'm not a fan of people pleasers- especially when they try to rationalise their stupidity.”
Truth be told, the day he had said that you, you were a bit more than just shocked. You were…disappointed. Sure, were you a people pleaser? Yes. Were you constantly trying to please your parents? Of course, you were the eldest; you were practically conditioned to be like that. Did you agree to this marriage without a second thought- yes, but did you do your background research? Yes. You knew he was blunt and you knew he was the oddball of his family. Still, you also knew he was good with kids because of his age gap with his youngest brother, you knew he liked animals, you knew he was fiercely protective of those he loved and you knew…he was loyal. Perhaps you wished that one day you’d be able to find someone who would be your loyal, protective pillar- and once you met him, you had deeply wished it had been him.
Unfortunately, he was not at all willing to be that pillar, especially when he showed you your true reflection, reminding you how this marriage was a mere contract. He had gone out of his way to let you know that, being late to most of your dates, barely eating and talking to you. He’d barely answer your phone, and if he did, he would hit you with, “What is the objective of this call?” There were times when he’d cancel on you at the last minute. He was least interested in any of the preparations for your wedding, the dress, the cake, the venue- but you were okay with that, you really were, because every time something like this would happen, you’d console yourself with one thought, “Once we get married, he’ll understand the real me.”
For almost half a year, it worked; your parents were happy, his parents were happy, and to some extent, you were fine with it too. The turning point came when you, who was busy picking the colour scheme of your wedding, spotted your fiancé walking towards the very shop you were in, only for him to be tackled by a woman who he caught effortlessly, one whom you recognised as his secretary. You watched the woman drag him away with ease, as if…he was hers. Maybe he was, but one thing was for certain: you were done. That night you had gone home, and decided to let your parents know that you no longer wanted to continue with this relationship, choosing to leave out the details, because at the end of the day, you knew, that the reason did not matter, for your family this marriage, much like Wooyoung, was all about business, not loyalty, not companionship and definitely not love.
Thus, the outcome was predictable; in a matter of days, you were, in a way, exiled from your family. Your inheritance, gone. Your home, gone. Your privileges, gone. A part of you resented yourself for doing this, if you had just kept your mouth shut, everything would have been fine, but you resented your parents the most- even after all this, after uncanny number of times you had agreed to do and say whatever they had wished for, it hurt you the most when you realised that neither one of your parents nor any of your siblings had tried to even ask, “Why?” That night, you realised that at the end of it all, you were always alone and perhaps you were never destined to be loved by anyone, not a significant other, not your siblings and especially not your parents. With a single suitcase, you had walked out of the house, never to look back at any of them, ready to start your life somewhere far far away.
That was more than a year ago, not that you were keeping count, to be exact, 1 year, 4 months and 12 days. You had managed to find a small town, one that was so insignificant that you knew that no one could be able to find you or recognise you here, giving you the perfect opportunity to start over again. With your job experience, you managed to attain a job as a teacher at the local school, a high school teacher. A job you were far too qualified for, but a job nonetheless, one that enabled you to get back on your feet. You were truly proud of yourself, people here liked you, respected you, respected your choices and for once in your life, you were able to decide for yourself. Your residence was a small upper portion in a house that belonged to an old couple; they were kind enough to let you stay for half the rent for almost 3 months, constantly telling you how you reminded the childless old couple of a daughter they never had. From your portion, you could see the open sea; every morning, you’d be able to watch the sunrise in peace before you started your day. In your time here your had also found a companion, a little black kitten, which you had rescued on a rainy night as you were running back from the local supermarket, it was balled up in front of your doorstep, shivering in whimpering, drenched to the bone and like the kind soul you were, you had taken it in- whom you later found out was a he, a very sassy he, which is why you had named him, “Boss”. Boss was your sole companion, watching you go about your day at home and sit with you in the evening, watching the sun set as he’d hop onto your lap, curling into you as the two of you would watch the peaceful day come to an end.
What you did not expect was that one chilly morning, as you skipped towards the school, smiling at the crunch of the snow beneath your boots, thinking of getting Boss a new toy on the way back today, was to see someone standing by the school gate- the devil himself, dressed in all black. His hair, longer than before, slicked back, sprinkled with a bit of white, soft snow, a cute contrast. He stood there in a long coat, an expensive coat, one that was way above your pay grade, hands stuffed in his pockets, glaring at the gate, with a muffler covering most of his face- he had…found you. You did not know what he was doing there, you didn’t know why he was there, and to be frank, you really didn’t want to know either, which is why that very moment you had spun on your heel and run back home, calling in sick to work.
That…was on a Monday, today…was Friday. You did not know that you’d be so afraid of him that you’d skip work for five days. At this point you were sure that if the school really didn’t need you, they would have definitely fired you. At this point, you didn’t even know what to do, you’d contacted some of your spies, a few female students who had started gossiping about a good-looking man in black, who’d be outside the schoolgate everyday, standing in the snow, looking around till school started and then he’d disappear. They had never seen his face, but it was natural for teenage girls to crush over someone so mysterious, and who were you to ruin their fantasies by telling them he was a mere cheater, a good-looking bastard, one with so many qualities you wished your partner would have, but life was not rainbows and butterflies. The girls had told you how he was finally confronted by a homeroom teacher, and although they did not know what had happened, they did confirm that the teacher assured all students that the man would no longer be bothering them. Good right? That was good news, he was gone- then why did you find yourself drinking on a Friday night at the local pub? Sitting in a corner, sulking in a corner, quietly staring at your empty cup, asking for one after another, until you were tipsy, tipsy enough to somehow hallucinate your ex-fiancé sitting next to you, dressed in one of his finest suits, with a bouquet in his hand, glaring at you with disgust- ah, truly Wooyoung, a very true hallucination, because for the whole time you had known the man, he had looked at you with nothing but pure disgust in his eyes. It was shameful how your itty-bitty heart would still beat for him from time to time.
Wooyoung frowned at your state, his grip tightening on the bouquet as you reached to touch him, only for him to jerk away at the slightest touch. He had spent over a year looking for you, and the first time he had seen you after so long, it was from a distance, running away from him; he was too late. Now, now that he had finally found you again, thanks to the help of that school teacher, here you were, drinking away like this- he had thought you were better than this. That day, he had thought you would march up to him, yell at him for ruining his life, hit him for being the reason behind your exile- say something. He did not expect you to run away, nor did he expect you to hide for a week; most importantly, he did not take you for someone who’d drink away in fear. You had spent a whole year on your own, turned your life around, made something out of yourself, surrounded by people who valued you and respected you, so why were you still so afraid to confront him?
“You’re drunk.” he mumbled, gripping your wrist, moving it away from his face, his other hand placing the bouquet on the counter as he looked for your belongings.
“I am tipsy, stupid good-looking hallucination, now, be gone.” with that you snatched your wrist out of his hand and tried to stand up, only the sudden movement caused you to lose your footing, almost falling over, only for him to catch you midfall, pulling you up as you leaned against him, mumbling, “If only…you were this nice to me back then.” You tried to push yourself off him, only for his hold on you to tighten, gently squeezing you in his hold, his chin on top of your head as he took a deep breath, trying to regulate his emotions, organise his thoughts, right now, he needed to get you home, needed for you to be safe, needed you to sober up- only then could he continue on with his agenda.
“Hold still, if you keep moving you’ll fall!”
You rolled your eyes at the whining, but stopped moving, letting him carry you on his back as he climbed up the stairs of your portion, only to stop in front of your door.
“Keys.”
“Stupid face, why would I give a hallucination my keys.”
“You think your hallucinations can carry you around?”
“If I manifest real hard, yeh-”
“For f*ck’s sake-” he slowly manoeuvred you off him, helping you stand upright, only for you to lean into his side, watching him take off your purse, the one that hung on his shoulder, rummaging through it for your keys. Paying no mind to it, you closed your eyes, enjoying his warmth and scent, carelessly mumbling, “You smell nice.”
“Tsk…of course I do, it’s the cologne you got me.”
In a successful attempt to find your keys, he opened the lock and walked inside, taking you with him, looking around at the small portion only to pause at the sight of a black thing on your bed, its golden eyes glaring back at him, tail swishing in frustration, before it began to tap against your bed, something you picked up. With a squeal, you pushed the man away and stumbled towards Boss, falling onto your knees in front of him as you reached out for him, “Boss, my baby, I missed you so much.”
Wooyoung could swear he saw the cat’s glare soften, especially when you crawled onto the bed and hugged it, but he was more concerned about the choice of name. Who names their snarky cat that? Pushing the thought away he took off his coat and placed it on the couch near by, walking over to your passed out form, reaching to touch your face, only to hiss and instantly pull back, gripping his hand at the pain, the sharp sting, as he noticed the cut on his palm, before glaring at the cat that stood tall beside your head, hissing at him.
“Tch…I found her before you…If you were half the man you pretend to be, you would be taking better care of her, no- am I arguing with a cat?”
.
The faint sound of someone humming stirred you out of your dreamless slumber, before reality set in seconds after, as you sat up instantly, gasping at the sight of the man, his back facing you as he stood above the stove, humming to himself- shit, how-no-what? It was all a dream, a weird hallucination, a sick trick your mind was playing on you-
“Ah, you’re finally awake.” Wooyoung glanced over his shoulder, eying the way you stared at him in shock, of course you didn’t remember, “You were a bit more than tipsy…don’t worry, your hallucination made you hangover soup.”
Truth be told, you have never had a civil conversation with this madman, so it came as no surprise when he had left you speechless with his kind words and actions, especially when he walked over to you, tray in hand, wearing your pink apron, placing it in front of you before mumbling, “Careful, it's hot.” With that, he had walked back over into the open kitchen, hissing at the cat that rubbed itself against his leg, “Oh, so now you wanna play all nice, want me to tell her how you almost sliced my hand off?” Regardless of his harsh words, you watched him pop open a can of tuna and chug it into Boss’ bowl before walking back to you and sitting at the edge of your bed, staring at you.
“Well, it’s not poisoned.”
“Why are you here?”
Your question did not, per say catch him off guard, but it did annoy him. To a point where he scowled at you, reminding you that this was the true Wooyoung, whatever that domestic crap that was going on a few minutes ago was a mere facade, and it irked you, it bothered you enough for you to toss the tray onto the floor, away from yourself, not bothered about the loud sound it made, or the way you basically broke your own dishes, too triggered by the bastard in front of you.
“Are you out of your damn mind?” Wooyoung yelled, almost jumping away at the impact, quickly glancing at your cat to make sure it was unharmed before looking back at you, granted he wanted a reaction but this-
“Why are you here?! You think just because you become all domestic, I’ll forget about what you did? What about her? What kind of sick cheater are you?”
He watched you stand up, and walk over to him, letting you grip his collar and pull him closer, though he was too busy trying to connect the dots, what did you mean by ‘her’? Who was her?
His lack of response only angered you more, as you shoved him away, and walked over to the kitchen to grab a broom and glare up at him, “Get the f*ck out of here- I’m not afraid of you, or them,” you continued your monologue as you began to clean up the mess, “I don’t know what you want from me, but you got what you wanted, you got your skank, so leave me alone! I don’t care how much they’re paying you to do this, but it isn’t worth- ”
“What on earth are you talking about?” He mumbled, cutting you off before standing up and walking over to you, towering over you. Only then did you realise how he perhaps was a bit more intimidating than you had given him credit for, flinching when he raised his hand, “Your family doesn’t give a flying f*ck about you.” His words cut in deep; they stung, but you didn’t have time for that, you were too concerned about his raised hand, waiting for some kind of sharp impact. He was right, your family never did care about you, maybe he was here on his own, out here to teach you a lesson for disrespecting him like that, ending the marriage and running off, ruining his image and reputation. He was a man respected by many, and you had left him hanging and just ended it all, disrespecting not only him but his family, his elders, his-
Wooyoung gently placed his hand on top of your head, ever so softly patting your head as if trying to soothe a feral cat, cutting your train of thought instantly, his next words completely catching you off guard, “I spent a whole year looking for you, I always wanted you to stand up for yourself, I just…didn’t know they’d toss you out like that. No one deserves to go through that, especially not someone as selfless as you.” His hand slowly trailed down to cup your cheek, tilting your head up ever so slightly so you would look at him, his gentle eyes meeting your glassy ones, “I understand that you’re upset, you have every right to be. You have suffered for no reason, and I was the root cause. I know that I am an a**hole, but what I am not is a cheater. Not once in our time together did I defile our relationship like that.”
“Th-that’s not true! I saw you with her!” you words came out as a choked sob, too defeated to push him away as you stared up at him, tears helplessly streaming down your face as you reached for him once more, gripping his shirt, “That day, at the shop, I saw her- I saw you- your stupid secretary, stop it- stop trying to play this sick game! Please just leave me alone.” Ironically, your words did not match your actions, especially when you leaned against him, your forehead resting against his chest as you slowly let out all the feelings you had bottled up since that night, “A-all I wanted was for you to see me for me- but all you did was hate me- so what if I never said no? So what if I agreed to what they said?! They were my parents, no? Was it wrong for me to meet their expectations? Was it wrong for me to expect them to love me for being obedient? How could you hate me for that? How could you be so heartless?”
Oh. So that was it.
“Silly girl.” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug, almost crushing you against him, “That day, what you saw was a mere incident, its true that that woman clung onto me, but I had no relation with her, it’s on me for not letting her go the moment I realised she had feelings for me, but what could I do when I was always occupied with the thoughts of you. That day, I was coming to that stupid shop to tell you to either take a stand or I would end this contract myself. I was not going to live my life with someone whom I did not choose.” He felt you try to push him away, only for him to hold you closer, “I don’t know why you didn’t bring this up with me. I would have told you the truth. Once I settled everything with her, I came to know about your little standoff. Truth be told, I was glad you took a stand, even before I could make my move, yet what I did not expect was for your family to toss you out like that.”
Slowly, he moved the two of you towards your couch, gently sitting you down, holding your hands as he knelt before you, looking up at you, “And you’re wrong, I never hated you, I could never hate you. You think I never saw the real you? I saw the real you the moment we first met, it only pissed me off when I realised you chose to ignore yourself in the hopes of your family being able to see the real you- how could I be your pillar of strength when your foundation of being was weak?” You looked down at him with an unreadable expression, one that excited him, one that gave him hope. He had always been able to read you before this; you were too predictable, too nice, too fake, but now, the person glaring down at him, looking down at him, analysing him- this was a completely different person, this was the real you.
“Then…why are you here?”
Ah, there it was, the curiosity, the need to rationalise events, only this time, you weren’t trying to use your logic to rationalise your stupid actions, but to rationalise the outcome of your future actions, this was his chance.
“I spent a year and a half looking for you, they didn’t even bother keeping track of their firstborn. It was truly disgusting. I was looking for you…because I wanted to apologise. I never meant for it to turn out like this. I never wanted you to suffer; you were doing pretty well on that aspect yourself, didn’t really need my help.” His head tilted in amusement, letting out a chuckle when you huffed in annoyance, but waited for him to continue, “Either way, I finally tracked you here, that day you ran away, and then you didn’t show up- all I wanted was to say I was sorry, I was even prepared to be slapped…What I did not expect was for your filthy feral feline to scratch me…nor did I expect to realise that even after so long, I still fancied you.”
“Like hell you did.”
You pulled your hands out of his hold, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring down at him, “You think I believe you? Sure, that secretary thing, yeah, maybe you weren’t cheating, your apology, fine- but don’t think for a second that I would believe you if you said you even at a mere moment of our time together, actually liked me.”
“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have tried to make it work for a year.”
You frowned at his statement, watching him finally stand up and sigh in defeat, “But every damn time,” he walked over to the mess and began to clean up, almost looking like a nagging grandma, “You’d be busy pretending to be a puppet, it was weird to see your parents pull your strings, a grown woman. I didn’t choose the cake, so you could. I didn’t choose the dress, so you could. I didn’t choose the venue, the damn music, the bloody food- all so you could, but every time, you’d let them decide! Wasn’t it enough for them to seal your fate for you with the marriage that you had to go out of your way to give them moments that were rightfully ours?!”
That’s when it hit you, he was…right. All this time, you had wanted him to care about you, to see how you were willing to do the same for him, but instead, your actions were doing nothing but dismissing him, dismissing his presence, his role as your husband, his role as your other half.
He placed the broom back in its place, tying the knot on the garbage bag before he turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow at your sunken state, “I know…I realised my approach was wrong, it was stupid but…I…” he paused, closing his eyes for a moment to take a deep breath, only to open them when he exhaled as he looked at you, staring at your lap, “I…just need to know if…you’re finally happy.”
You looked up at him, blinking away the tears before nodding, not even sparing a moment to think. You were happy, from the moment you stepped outside of that wretched place, from the moment you were able to take a deep breath of fresh air, of freedom, you were…happy.
“I am.”
Wooyoung visibly relaxed, a chuckle escaping him as he leaned against the counter, his body language as relaxed as your cats. Oh, you could see why you liked your cat being this sassy; you were just attracted to a**holes with kind hearts. He nodded and walked over to the couch, picking up his coat as he stared at you, “Good. Be happy, remain free, make your own choices-”
“Make it up to me, you a**hole.”
He flinched at the choice of words, before twitching at the way you sneered at him, you had just cut him off, his cool and mature monologue, you were as insufferable as your filthy feline companion. Did he give you the chance of freedom, or did he help create a monster, who knows, either way, he liked it. He could only nod at the statement before dropping his coat and flopping down next to you, swiftly cupping your face as he drank in your expressions, enjoying the way you maintained eye contact, “Well, I was going to, but you just had to ruin the moment. Though I don’t really like kissing on the first date.”
“You gonna ask me out on a date, Jung?”
“I mean, I was gonna ask you to marry me, but I guess a date sounds better, no? It would be a weird example to set for your student, no?
“Keep my children out of this.”
“How can I? When they were ever so kind as to tell me where you live and where I could find you on a cold Friday night.”
Ah, so that’s how he had found you tonight. Well, you would have punished those kids, but considering how you were currently being spoon-fed a warm, cooked meal by a very noisy but good-looking man, you may have to consider letting them off the hook this time. Especially when said man stroked your cheek lovingly, mumbling a gentle, “You look so hot when you boss me around-” only for him to ruin the moment. Oh, so you’d have to get used to this nonsense too…well…might as well, as long as you’d finally have him all to yourself, as long as you’d finally have someone to call yours, someone who’d see you, for you, no matter how stupid and annoying they were.
“Who the hell names their cat Boss? Like sheesh? I know I had to teach you to stand up for yourself, do I need to teach you how to give na- screw that, I’m naming our kids.”
i'm pretty sure you use AI to write, but i can't prove it
if you don't answer this ask then i will automatically get my answer... don't worry i won't post it anywhere
Hi! Since you asked so directly, I'll answer just as directly.
Yes, I use AI as a writing assistant. No, I do not rely on it to magically spit out entire fics while I sit back drooling at the screen. My ideas, plots, characters, themes, and drafts are my own. AI helps me refine, clean up grammar, and smooth phrasing, especially since I'm multilingual and English is not my only language.
Fun fact: a lot of people use AI without realising it. Tools like Grammarly, spellcheck, predictive text, and autocorrect are also AI. Generative AI just happens to be the current buzzword everyone's angry about.
I'm a working adult who writes fanfiction for fun. If I had to manually scrutinise every sentence for grammatical perfection on top of real life, I'd publish approximately one fic every thousand years. So yes, AI helps. That's literally what tools are for: to make life easier when used responsibly.
There are irresponsible ways to use AI, absolutely. Prompting it to generate entire works and calling it yours is one of them. That is not what I do. Used properly, it's an assistant, not a replacement for creativity.
At the end of the day, this is fanfiction. It's free. It's for enjoyment. It's not that serious. If you don't like how I create my work, the back button exists and is completely free to use.
Hope that clears things up.
And yes, for the sake of full transparency, this reply was also drafted with the help of AI; these are my exact sentiments, simply cleaned up and organised with assistance.
To assume AI is just a tool used to write long essays and generate everything and anything just shows the ignorance that still prevails. It's not that difficult to understand how these tools work and how to appropriately use them. Furthermore, the text itself seems so...rude? "You can't prove it but you know-" woah?
I'm truly amazed how civil and mature @edenesth is while handling the response. Maybe if she was a bit more sarcastic and offensive then people will understand how its important to think before assuming stuff. I'm glad she explained it though, so people with such doubts can clarify their queries.
These are fanfics, written for personal leisure and stress relieving. If you're here busy reading it like someone's thesis submission, then maybe you need to some self-love and self reflection 😔
Summary: You were more than just a muse, you were the reason of his being, the life he would always choose to protect. He was more than just your artist, the man you'd share your misery with, the one you had decided to always follow.
Genre: Angst (tinge of fluff)
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: Mentions of suicidal thoughts, death.
Word Count: 1.9 K
Est.Read Time: 10 min
A/N: I had a shitty day, here's some angst i guess- it aint the best because angst isn't my forte, so think of it as a gothic depiction of reality.
“Any harder and you'll punch through the bag-”
Shaking his head in disbelief the man walked around the bag and walked over to the bench, cringing at the squeaking of the bag. Truthfully he had installed that, taught you a few moves just for fun, a fun way to let loose of all the stress- this was not stress, it was a form of pent up frustration that would begin to pour out like this, starting with the bag, then slouching on the bench beside him, then yelling as you'd narrate the events of the day as he'd be busy with the notepad pad, to finally the-
A faint thump caught his attention, pausing the internal countdown to find you on the floor. Shit. He rushed to your side, watching you toss your gloves away, “Are you hur- oh…no, hey, it's okay, I was…I was kidding?” The man mumbled, as his heart ached at the tears streaming down your face silently. It was an unpleasant feeling, like the chill of a quiet December morning that gripped onto the miseries and dread of all it had frozen in its path during the night, the silent victorious, vicious, violent scream.
To this day he was unable to understand how you were able to cry silently, he'd be lying if he were to say your glossy orbs, and rosy cheeks were not the inspiration of many of his many pieces, but she was his muse, there was something about your eyes, so full of pain but with an uncanny amount of love swirling within them- you had always been his muse, his inspiration, his vision of beauty- his enchantress, the keeper of his heart, his lover. You were the woman he had bumped into one night, a night he had decided dedicating his life to his art was useless, a night he had decided he was done disappointing his parents, a night he had decided to finally put an end to it all; the rejections, the pitiful looks, the whispers of him being unable to follow his successful father's footsteps, the silent pleas of his mother to follow a more ‘masculine’ path, the disappointed stare of his father who had declared that his brush strokes were better a hobby than a way of life. When he had finally decided to take the final step a sharp call had stopped him, a call he could never forget, a call that felt colder than the lake that he was about to become one with-
“Can you do that somewhere else?!”
He had gently turned to look at the woman, ready to say no when his world had come to a sudden halt, eyes tracing your features, your being, every contour, every strand of loose hair that he noticed you nervously slick back with both hands before tugging at your coat, as if it would protect you from your raw thoughts were ready to nip at you. Your cold words held such malice, yet you looked so warm, so tender, your concerned eyes, flushed tear stained cheeks and the quiver of your bottom lip were enough to have the man turn and face you, still standing atop his final stop, but with his hands stuffed in his pockets he blinked at you, an uncontrollable urge to trace you arising within him, to feel the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheeks, the hollow of your eyes- he had to…it had to be you, perhaps after he could recreate you, an inanimate version of you, he could finally go in peace.
“If you let me draw you first.”
“Turn back around, I'll push you myself, f*cking creep.”
Yet, you had found yourself sitting next to the bastard who looked insane, at least to you, scribbling on a borrowed pen and notepad- yes, both yours. Glancing at you from time to time, before busying himself, hunched over- horrible posture for a man with such nice shoulders. You would barely look at him though, in a posture worse than his, slouching against the bench, cup in hand, staring at the darkness in front of the two of you, wondering why you were here entertaining a random man- you should've just called the authorities and left, but here you were being an idiot.
“This is wrong.”
You glanced at him, noticing how he huffed and flipped onto the other page before looking up only to lock eyes with you. That's when you had realised why you never left, it had been a while since you'd seen a person with eyes so honest, eyes so expressive, eyes that spoke louder than a liar that led crowds.
“What are you doing anyway? That pad isn’t free, dude.”
“I'm…trying to recreate an inspiration.”
“From jumping off to flirting, that's progress.”
With that you turned to face him, noticing how he had moved back, as if he was afraid, good, you could pepper spray him at any moment, might as well interrogate him.
“Why were you going to-”
“I still will, after this.”
“Why?”
“I no longer wish to be miserable.”
“We're all miserable.”
“Are we? What do you do, Miss?”
“I'm an accountant.”
“Do you like your job-”
“Hate it, what do you do?”
“I'm…a painter- why do you do it if you hate it?”
“Cause I like money, duh?”
You had scoffed that night, rolling your eyes at him before snatching the pen and pad, “Go somewhere else. Just because you're miserable doesn't mean others aren't-”
“Then follow me!”
He had no idea why he had said that, perhaps he was afraid, perhaps he was afraid of the thought of losing his muse, perhaps he was just lonely, longing for someone who could appreciate his talent, understand its worth -
“Sorry dude, I got a cat at home, can't leave him like that, so please, either get help or come back another day, I just came here to cry when you stalked up here and-”
That night he had learnt how you had been silently crying in “peace” when you had seen him walk up to the edge, climb the railing and stand there for “47 minutes and 9 seconds, to be exact”. You had then proceeded to smack him on the head on the notepad after staring at the scribbled out drawings of you, calling him an idiot over and over again, followed by an, “Are you an idiot?! This is so nice- hell it doesn't even look like me!”, an evident blush decorating your face as you continued to smack him on the head until he had let out a, “MISS PLEASE, I THINK YOU'VE MADE YOUR POINT!”
“It's okay…” he whispered, repeating gently, “Sannie's right here, Sannie won't leave you.”
Taking a deep breath you turned to glance at him, frowning as you fought off another wave of tears, “What kind of bastard leaves his muse behind?”
You stared at him, eyes trailing from his gentle gaze to his hands, his hands that held you close, hands kept you safe, hands that made you feel loved. Slowly making your way to him you sighed, gently leaning against him, as you whispered, “How could you….I loved you more than I liked money.”
“You okay?”
With a deep breath you turned around and looked at the man who stood at the doorframe of the garage, leaning against it with his arms crossed as his eyes scanned the garage gym, from the beaten up punching bag to the gloves on the floor, to the walls, decorated with nothing but her, staring right at him with those eyes, each and every piece that hung in a frame of what he could describe as nothing but pure gold, was her- it was….bitter sweet really, how he had managed to capture your beauty over the years slowly, just like how he had placed your heart with his on his colour palette, the perfect shade of love.
Though you no longer looked like that, whatever beauty he had been recreating lay painted across the canvases. He frowned, before glancing at the only photograph hanging behind you, the only picture that had him with you in the frame, a frame that had captured the artist at his happiest he had ever been,holding onto his muse who he could describe as the perfect bride, perfect lover, perfect soulmate.
“Mrs.Choi, don't you think it's time we cover these up.”
“No, I like them here. I like him here.”
Hongjoong watched her walk past him, following the usual routine, slowly drifting away. Hongjoong had heard of artists losing their sanity over the loss of their muses, but he had never witnessed the slow demise of a muse, slowly spiraling into a form of insanity, wallowing in grief, at the loss of her artist, her artist who had spent years trying to perfect his work. He truly was blessed to have been the student of someone like Choi San, someone so talented, someone so in love, someone so rich- it was unfortunate how his teacher's love for his art had become his second priority, especially when his muse had become the first.
It disgusted him how his teacher had lost his touch, too lost in her, in her love as he had claimed that night when he had told his student that he could no longer teach him, he had nothing else to teach him, for what Hongjoong needed now was a muse, to find the inspiration San had when years ago when the two of you were mere young adults, finding your way through life, when you had held his hand and pulled him out of the pits of darkness, smiled at him, decided to be miserable with him together, to make something out of this misery. So a muse for himself he had found.
“Do you think…he was no longer happy with me?”
He slowly blinked at you sitting there in his teacher's shirt, as you lay across the settee as instructed, still and quiet, all for him to do his work easily, he didn't work like San, he needed you to be still, to be numb, to be dea-
“Aww, no darling,” Hongjoong hummed, before gently placing his hand on your forehead, “We never really knew how his mind worked, you were always his one and only muse, his only…reason of being…” gently he trailed his palm lower, closing your eyes for you, “Your eyes darling, they're not your best feature.” He raised a brow at the way you looked up at him, before mumbling, “You'll stay…right?”
With a gentle smile he leaned closer, gently pinching your chin as he tilted your head to the other side, before whispering admiring the hollow of your cheeks, “You need not worry, I'm here to stay, remember what the doctor said about taking the pills on time,” he turned your head back to face him, staring right through you, admiring your glazed over eyes, his perfect muse, his perfect mannequin, “I'll look after you and all that he has left…for you.”
With that Hongjoong walked back to his teacher's seat- his seat and picked up the paint brush as his eyes scanned over your frail, pale body, the way the cotton hung over your frame, a mere ghost of his essence watching over your being, a pity how he was able to trade himself for you, a waste of talent. Hongjoong slowly dipped the brush into the red liquid, one that he had purified himself and stored away that night, letting it settle to perfection till he could use it for his most valuable artwork, use it at the right time, the exact time that was now, he could feel it in his bones, as he watched you silently. Sighing at the sight of your still features, he chuckled, “You were his muse, you were his lover, you were what he chose over his art- you were the plague that ate through the art of an artist, and I will now do you the honour of capturing your beauty but one last time, where you were what he envisioned to be life, you will be mine for death.”
Summary: She truly had found the prettiest flower, one she wanted to tuck behind her ear, but his thorns needed to be snipped off.
Genre: Dark Romance
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: Lowkey spicy, mentions of anxiety, and implied violence.
Word Count: 3,8 K
Est.Read Time: 19 min
A/N: I have finally attained a week's worth of freedom- do Masters, they said, it'll be fun, they said. This was honestly supposed to be much shorter and not related to anything, but because I'm sick in the head, I may link this with a previous and upcoming oneshots.
It had been a whole year. An entire year since this foolish mortal had entered your life, gracing you with his filthy existence. To think, you, the queen of darkness, the lovable form of lust, the weakness of all men, had been unable to sink your pretty, shiny, sharp white teeth in his slender, long, pale-oh so inviting-neck for a whole year. For a year you had entertained him, put up with his antics, amused his little boyfriend coded activities, basked in his attention, found comfort in his care and warmth in his tender tou- NO MORE.
2025, a year filled with misogynistic idiots you could consume daily, but such trivial, easy targets were not your cup of tea- in fact, you wouldn’t even spit at any of them. They were useless, they were filthy, and they tasted like shit. Him…no, he tasted like sweet and fresh peaches. Of course, you had not tasted him before; you had only been intoxicated by his scent- you were allured by his scent in your own shop. You had always been sensitive to smells, humans smelled disgusting, which is why you had surrounded yourself with a variety of flowers, you had become a florist in this century, anything to avoid that smell- but then he had waltzed into your shop, dressed in the softest cotton you’d seen, with an aura so charming you had felt your insides churn, and a smile so gentle, had they sent someone from heaven to exterminate you?
That night he had smiled at you, bought a bouquet and walked out of the shop- only to walk back in two minutes after. Originally you had assumed there was something wrong with the bouquet, though when he had extended his arm to hand you the bouquet you stared at him in shock, and well…excitement at the opportunity presenting itself to you, “I came to return these, because I asked for the prettiest flower here- and these don’t even compare to the flower standing in front of me.” That was how it began, truthfully, you had assumed that this would not take so long, one or two dates at which you'd be able to have your fill, but you were wrong, oh, so wrong. He’d do something everytime, you were this close to sinking your fangs into that deliciously pumping vein;
The first time he hugged you, you were practically foaming like a beast, ready to do it, only for him to pull back and cup your face- leaving you stunned and frozen- before kissing you so gently, like you were the most delicate flower he had ever seen. It was so sweet, so warm and tender, you had not been kissed like that for over a millennia, which is why when he had slowly pulled away, you had pulled him closer again, mumbling, “Yuyu…” hoping he would be able to pick up on your hint- he did, giving you a small smile before kissing you again.
The second time you had decided to take your chances was when he was asleep, or you thought he was asleep, on your couch, lying there in his crisp white dress shirt, unbuttoned enough to show you the pale skin- oh, to decorate that skin with tiny precise holes, ones that would have the cops speculating in fear and confusion. To be fair, you were extremely skilled when it came to stealth and finesse, but for some reason, every time you were around him, you'd be fumbling like a filthy mortal, which is why when you had decided to climb over the oak tree of a man, you had accidentally kneed him down there. Embarrassed and ashamed, you had sat there on your knees, begging for his forgiveness, though he wasn't mad, only in some amusing kind of pain, unsure if he should be laughing at the situation or groaning in pain. Once the pain had numbed down, he had made space for you on the inside of the couch, motioning, “Next time if you wanna cuddle, just wake me up, pretty girl.” You had yet to come up with an excuse as to why you had decided to crush the man's balls, so to avoid making it any worse, you quietly laid down next to him like a guilty kitten, mumbling a meek apology that he instantly accepted and wrapped his arms around you, drowning you in his scent- it was like he wanted you to go mad!?
The third time you had decided that enough was enough, you were done waiting, you were done embarrassing yourself- tonight, on Hallow’s Eve, you were going to RIP out his windpipe. Rage and adrenaline surged through your veins as you walked into the back of your shop, ready to close up everything, ready to go to his apartment and take his life, feel the warm blood running down your throat, the stickiness on your fingertips as you trace his pale, soft features frozen in fear at the kiss of death. That is, until you had stomped into the backroom of the flower shop, tossing your apron aside, you walked over to your desk, only gasping at the sight of the man sprawled on the ground- blood? The stench of blood filled your senses, and in your haste and fear, you picked up on nothing but the faint heartbeat of your so-called lover, as you fell onto your knees beside him, slapping him gently. “Y-Yunho! A-oh good heavens!” you hissed to yourself, trying to shake him away before you placed a hand on his chest, his beat was slow- fumbling with your phone you pressed it against your ear about to speak when you felt him grip your hand- that night you screamed loud enough to wake up your ancestors, and the man who was all bloody, hugging you close laughed louder than imaginable, his bubbly laughter muting out your whines as you struggled against him, telling him how this was not funny. That night, Yunho had given you a cheeky smile, wiped your tears with his sleeve and mumbled against your lips, before kissing you softly, “Scared ya, didn’t I, pretty girl? Don’t worry, I won’t leave you that easily.”
Since that night something had broken inside of you- you still wanted to devour him whole- but something about him would draw you towards him, like a moth to a flame. It was shameful how you had given this mere mortal so much power over you, especially during moments like now, when the buzzing, loud, human world would become too much- the annoying noise, constant buzzing of their scattered thoughts, hissing of machines, beeping of their annoying cellular devices, it was moments like these that you’d run for solitude, hide to salvage whatever shambles of your sanity were left in this world, in this world where you were completely alone. In this world where the Huntsmen had hunted down any and every vampire that had surfaced under the moonlight, most whom you had known, you were but a product of nobility- nobility that was foolish enough to think they were strong enough, refusing to learn and adapt, one by one, being sent to the pits of hell, and here you were, a coward, a weakling, a- no, you were smart, you were rational, you chose your wellbeing over your pride, you had planned not to make the same mistakes as the Count, your father was a foolish man, and you were neither a man nor a fool. Hence, a millennium later, here you were deciding whether or not you should jump at the sweet treat you had been saving for half a year, your pet you had become attached to, too attached. Sometimes, you would look at him and shiver in disgust, to think you had used your knowledge to brew potion after potion, to help you adapt to your surrounding, enabling you to walk under the sun, at least for a solid few hours, you could blame it on having sensitive skin- now here you were, sitting under your desk in the office of your closed flower shop, the lights turned off, curtains covering all the windows and glass doors to keep the sunlight from illuminating your cold, dark safe space.
It was happening again, when it was all get a bit too much, frankly you knew it was in your genes to slowly slip away from sanity, but the fear of this fact would often dwell around your mind, dancing across the floors of your fear, reminding you how you will end up slashed, gutted, and burnt by the Huntsmen, much like they did to your family, making you watch- frankly to this day you are unsure of how you had managed to escape. You remember how that night you watched your parents, your siblings, your friends and loved ones, scream and howl in pain, crying in anguish as the Huntsmen proved to be no better monsters than the vampires, no child was spared, no woman was left untainted- yet, here you were, free? Safe? Unharmed? With only a gash on your back from that night, the night you had escaped like a coward, run away without ever looking back, too afraid to confront the Huntsmen who had ended your bloodline, even when you grew older, wiser, stronger. Instead, here you were, under your desk, hiding in your pathetic flower shop, crying in silence as you yearned for not death, though that is what a mere useless creature like you deserved- but yearned for-
“There you are…” His gentle voice caught you by surprise as you stared up at him, watching him slowly sit down next to you, scooting closer so the two of you were cramped under your desk, even with his legs folded he could barely fit, but here he was, all here, in his flesh and blood, holding your hand as he leaned closer, bumping his forehead with yours, as he whispered, “I couldn’t find my pretty flower anywhere…it’s really loud out there today, huh?”
Hell, you deserved hell, no, the deepest pit of it, because as soon as he had enveloped you in a sweet, warm embrace, his arms secure around you, something had ticked, perhaps it was the temptation, the voices in your head, or just sheer instinct, but you had gently pressed your lips against his pulse, delighted when you felt the faint beat quicken, before your fangs slip out, ready to puncture, ready to slurp- “I love you.” That was the fourth time you had failed to end his life, his words snapping you back to reality as your breath hitched, throat drying up, but grip tightening against him, when he relaxed against you, pressed his lips against into your hair, “I love you, don’t hide from me, I’ll always be there for you- no matter what, you’re my flower to protect.” That day you broke in his hold, pouring out the pent up stress and fear, not a word was exchanged, but your nerve wracking sobs, the ones you had been bottling up ever since the dark ages, bounced off the cold walls of your office, but his hold tightening around you kept you warm and tender, lulling you out of your distress, gently pulling you out of the grip of the insecurities and guilt that clung onto you, only to gently rub his hand up and down his back, whispering ever so often when you’d shake against him, “It’s okay…they won’t get to you- I won’t let them.”
If one were to assume that you’d given up after the fourth time, that one was wrong; a woman never gives up! Especially when your meal lays bare beneath you, a sheen of sweat coating his pale smooth skin, littered with your dark kiss marks, and perhaps a few nips here and there- but the way he looked up at you, like you were his sole reason of being, hands above his head, tied in a pretty red bow that was once tied around the bouquet he had brought for you to celebrate your birthday- oh he was the perfect treat, exhausted yet buzzing with pleasure. Usually, moments of intimacy were sweet and tender but perhaps turning 1027 had awakened another side, one that liked to play rough, to choke your pray till you’d see the white of his eyes as his body beneath you would shiver in pure ecstasy, you’d grin at the way his movements were restricted, leaning onto him to press your lips against his moist swollen pair, before trailing them down to the one place you craved. Your lips pressing against the column of his neck, a relieved sigh leaving you as you felt him go lax, perhaps you wouldn’t kill him, just take a bit of a sip, he seemed to have become a bit more important to you, and dare you say you were now fond of him, so a taste would suffice. In the morning, you could just tell him it was probably a bed bug, but right now, you could just take a- your squeak filled the silent room, world spinning as you landed on the soft mattress with a soft thud, staring up at him wide-eyed. His hair a mess, face flushed, chest heaving, but the look in his eyes was what had you feeling smaller than you usually would around him- wait, where was the ribbon? “My turn, pretty flower,” the man above you purred, pinning your arms above your head, somehow too quick for you to notice, especially when you tugged at your wrists, gasping at the feeling, tilting your head up to notice the knot- this bastard had tied you up against the bedrest? You were about to complain but the sudden surge of pleasure did nothing but coerce a very loud, very sinful, but a very pleased call for your lover, who in return smirked in glee, maneuvering you to his liking as he leaned closer for a brief minute, pressing his lips against the corner of your lips, “Let me show you how you actually treat nobility…” And show you, he did.
Therefore, now, after a year together, with your anniversary approaching, you were stuck at a crossroads, your patience running thin, but the feelings towards him, the bud of love that was buried within your unbeating heart, had now bloomed, and it waited for no one but him to water it with his love, his care, his warmth.
Unfortunately, something else had begun to bother you, things that you should have noticed, but did not, as mentioned before, with him, around him, just the thought of him had you fumbling like a fool, your sharp senses would dull around him, especially when he’d hold you close, a feeling of security would envelope you- but that was not a good excuse, especially when you began to piece together the puzzle in the late hours of the night, when you’d lay tangled in the sheets with him, wide awake, his tenderness, his care, his love a contrast to his words;
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you that easily”
“I love you, don’t hide from me, I’ll always be there for you- no matter what, you’re my flower to protect.”
“It’s okay…they won’t get to you- I won’t let them.”
“Let me show you how you actually treat nobility…”
Moreover, the blood on Hallow's Eve, later you had realised it was not his, but chicken blood...and how had he been able to control his heartbeat? It was almost as if he…he knew- more importantly, he somehow always could intervene when you’d go in for the kill, or like the last time, go for a taste, he would distract you, enough to have you fall for him harder, but he’d stand atop of you, victorious, smiling down at you with a glint in his eyes, almost as if he had tricked you all along, having you believe that you were the predator, while in reality all this time you had been the prey-
“We need to leave.”
You were not given much of a choice, especially when your boyfriend had rushed over to you, grabbing your wrist in a grip you had never felt before, at least not from him. Out the back door, the two of you were now speeding down the highway out of town, in his car- when did he get his window tinted? The past thirty minutes of the ride were rushed, silent, filled with some form of tension and for some reason, the bubbling uncertainty had begun to scare you, and began to trigger an emotion you were not sure you were capable of feeling anymore- were you…afraid? Was this fear? The bitter taste in your mouth, the burning sensation of your eyes and the erratic breathing- no- this was not like your usual anxiety attacks, this was different, but all too familiar, this sense of urgency, this sense of dread, this sense of anguish, it was the same you had drowned in that night when-
“It’s okay…they won’t get to you- I won’t let them.”
He gently laced his fingers with yours, his palm pressing against your clammy one as he slowed down after taking the left to the exit, going to the only place he knew they’d be safe, the place he should have taken you to begin with. He was foolish to think the intel the Huntsmen had shared with him would be accurate, would be true- perhaps a part of it was, but the moment the tall, handsome hunter had returned with the bouquet, coming back to distract you long enough to end you, his resolve had wavered. You didn’t stare up at him like a predator, you didn’t act like one, instead you looked up at him with some kind of child like wonder, curiosity, almost as if you were surprised to hear him compare your beauty to flowers- were you unaware of the physical appeal that you possessed, the elegance and charm, the beauty that could outmatch a bouquet of roses held together with a string of pearls. So, for a year he had entertained the thought of you, letting you have your way, do as you pleased, all so he could learn more about you, and in exchange obtain information from the Huntsmen- he had a reputation to uphold, even if he was there doing Hongjoong’s dirty work, but that creature from hell would have to wait, Jeong Yunho, was the best of the best, one who had been trained by the last living Belmont to take down such creatures of the night, which included you, which included his…friend, Hongjoong- yet, here he was best friends with one and in love with another.
“Yunho…”
He glanced at you, giving you a gentle smile before chuckling, “Honestly, I was going to ask you to turn me, but then again, I think you like me being human?”
“You…you’re a huntsman?!” You ripped your hand out of his, only for him to calmly shake his head and sigh, “I am a hunter, true, but I am not part of the Huntsmen organisation. It is also true that I was sent to execute you, but…If I’m not wrong, you really did try to end my life several times…right?”
Your anger morphed into embarrassment, causing you to scoff and look away, almost in a childish manner as you crossed your arms and mumbled, “Two out of five…the rest I just wanted a taste.”
“Liar,” his head tilted in a manner that had you avert your gaze, cursing yourself when you accidentally made eye contact with him, his lazy smile and gentle eyes having the butterflies in your stomach have the time of their lives, fluttering around like they were about to fly out of your mouth, to flutter around him like he was the prettiest flower they had seen- perhaps they had, he was the prettiest flower you had seen, had the honour to taste, had the pleasure to love.
“I was sent to end their clan as well, but to gain their trust, I had to execute you…But I guess that was no longer on the priority list, especially when you began to look at me…like that,” he teased, only for you to roll your eyes and mumble, facing away, curling up in your seat as you faced the door, closing your eyes, whispering, “Was it…all a lie?”
“None of it was a lie, I love you, and I told you, I won’t let them get to you, you’re my little flower to protect.”
He noticed you relax a bit, still facing away, he’d understand, you deserved to at least be a bit upset, you had every right to be, hell, who knows, he might even let you take him whole after all this, just to make it up to you- oh….this is probably what San meant when he told him about the woman who’s scent had him groveling on his knees for her, oh well, Yunho liked it.
“Where are we going?”
He hummed in response, thinking of an appropriate answer. Was he supposed to call it a headquarters? A safehouse? A place where both creatures of the night and humans would live in harmony? Home? No, she was home now, so perhaps he was…protecting his home, his peace of mind, his favourite little flower.
“A place where we will live freely, a place where I can show you all that you were deprived of because you were forced to hide all these years.”
A moment passed, and he let it, getting comfortable as he began to focus on the road, at least for a while until he noticed you staring at him, biting his lip to hide his smile, as he glanced at the sight of you, curled up on the seat, now facing him, knees tucked under your chin as you stared at him with something swirling behind your crimson orbs- this was new, but this was the real you, the you he had begun to love.
“The offer of turning you is still on the table.”
“I think, you know as well as I do, you like your flowers, naturally grown.”
You smiled at the thought, perhaps another day you will convince him, to let you turn him, so you could spend an eternity together- or perhaps you will follow him, once the his petals fall off, the colour of his sweet skin fades, and the core of his soul dries up, maybe a life with him will be more fulfilling than what immortality could give you. For now, you let it be, letting him take you to his “home”, perhaps it was the same place he had once told you about, where all of his brothers would gather- either way, it mattered not, as long as he was there with you.
“Will you still love me, after you see the real me?”
“I will love you until I finally wither away like a flower, but I beg you, let me grow in your garden till my last breath, that is all I ask for in return.”
Summary: You thought you'd hold his heart in the palm of your hand, no, he held yours, but it's okay, he didn't have the gruesome grip you always wanted to use when choking a man- he held you like the delicate, spoiled little bee that you were- his spoiled little bee.
Genre: Fluff (kinda steamy?)
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: Lowkey spicy, language.
Word Count: 1.5 K
Est.Read Time: 10 min
A/N: Yes, a decade late fic- I was supposed to post it on my birthday but didn't finish it- oh well. Also, the lip tint reference is courtesy of @edenesth getting me a bday gift i'd love to try on San-ANYWAY.
"What did we learn?"
"That I'm married to a moron."
"Moro-" he froze at the way you glared at him, completely drenched to the bone, standing under the shadow of a tree that was barely acting as an umbrella. That and the rain had started to pour through the window onto the leather seat so he wanted this to hurry up and-" YAH!"
You stood there for a good minute with the door open, to ensure HE felt how YOU felt because of the rain before settling down on the seat and closing the door, making sure to get the leather more wet if possible as you turned to glare at him, only to be met with a small pout.
“Here” Your husband mumbled, gently patting your cheek with a soft tissue only to meet your stern gaze, which he returned with a sigh, “But I told you it was gonna rain…you didn't even wait for me, little bee.”
With a scoff you leaned over and ripped out a bunch of tissues from the tissue box and wiped your face, trying to dab the water off your dress, to think you had dressed all pretty for your birthday, you had decided to get all dressed up today, you had worn his favourite dress-
“To a place that isn't my workspace.”
You flinched at the tone, meekly meeting his gaze, unsure what was hotter, his blank stare or those cute nerdy glasses and the whole suit. With a slight nod you whined, leaning onto him, making sure to leave a wet stain on his coat, earning a gasp from him, but he never pushed you away, he could never, specially not today, not on your special day.
“I know~ but you were gonna come for lunch, no?”
“Last time I did that you told me you hated how all the office ladies were staring at me.”
“No,” scoffing, you tilted your head up to glance at him, already staring down at you before he leaned closer to gently press his lips against your warm forehead, you were going to be sick by the end of the day, he knew it, and it irked him even more that he was the one who enabled this little fit, that would perhaps ruin your birthday even more than your work had already. You closed your eyes at the feeling, a gesture you truly appreciated, a gesture that encouraged you to lean into his side, ignoring the center console pushing into your side, no longer concerned about how you were still drenched and were probably damaging his car’s interior. Did you want to spend your birthday with him? Yes. Did you want him to shower you with his undivided affection? Yes. Unfortunately the two of you had work, even though it was a Sunday.
A week ago, if you had actually been paying attention to what your colleague was saying, you would have politely declined her request for working today, but all you heard was “Do you mind coming to plan the event this Sunday?” Now, that sneaky hag knew what she was doing, she for sure had seen you spot your husband in the lobby, and knowing how you'd block out everything when it came to him- most of your office knew. Everyone knew how the once, overtly independent, headstrong, loud b*tch at work, had now become the overtly independent, headstrong, loud b*tch at work who was in love with the gentlest of men out there, who held the power to numb her senses, who held her icecold heart in his palm, gently thawing it with his tender love, smiling every time he felt it beat in excitement. So, yes, she knew, that lady knew that by the end of the gruesome day, when you’d be dragging your feet towards the exit, the sight of your husband would transport you to another realm, where no one but you and him existed, and your once exhausted body would be floating into his arms- meaning you didn’t give a flying fu-
“You really should listen to people at work, even if they’re stupid.”
You cracked an eye open to stare at him, “Oh yeah? I was tricked into coming on Sunday, what was your excuse?”
With a shrug San flicked open the button of his coat, casually mumbling in an intentional cute manner as he slipped out of his coat at threw it at the back before placing his hands on the wheel, “I told you a week ago about this, Yunho had somewhere to go and I told him I’d cover only till lunch because it was your birthday- see you don’t listen to me sometimes, even in the morning when I brought this up.”
Well, technically you didn’t hear him when he had originally told you this, because again, he told you this when he had come to retrieve your exhausted being from your office, so of course you weren’t listening and for this morning…well. In the morning you had come out of the washroom all dressed, to find your husband in a suit as well, only when he told you about work you had demanded that he should take a day off so at least someone has a day off on your birthday. He in return, had said this was a stupid idea and that you shouldn’t have pitched in to work on your special day, bla bla bla, followed by a-
“Where are you going? It’s literally raining!”
“I’m GOING TO CELEBRATE MY BIRTHDAY AT WORK THEN!”
“FINE.”
“FINE.”
And once the door was slammed shut, the silent anger filled ride down the elevator had come to a stop, you had marched out of the building, into the cold September shower- dignity acting as your only companion, you had actually made it down three blocks- with the thought ramming around in your head, “WHERE THE HELL IS MY HUSBAND”- before a familiar car slowed down next to you and well- you know the rest.
“Yeah well…I learnt my lesson.”
Shaking his head at your defeated sigh he reached over to clasp your hand in his, “I brought you a spare change of clothes,” a comment which led you to close your eyes to contain the rush of emotions- he was always so thoughtful sometimes it made you sick- but you did give his hand a grateful squeeze.
“Now, you go upstairs, change, then go to your workstation, I’ll see you for lunch- at the end of the day, both of us take tomorrow off, so we can celebrate properly. Yeah?”
He parked in front of your office building and you turned your head sluggishly in his direction, letting out a, “I think I’ll have a cold though…I’m sorry Sannie-”
His warm lips cut you off, causing you to gently push him away, but his firm grip at the back of your neck held you in place, as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, shamelessly making out with you in his car, in the parking lot of your work place- ANYONE COULD SEE YOU HERE, EVEN IF IT WAS RAINING. Though when he pulled back, just a bit, his lips ghosting over yours teasingly, you realised he wanted everyone to know, he wanted everyone to see, that he was your husband, your love, your Sannie.
“Don’t be sorry, birthday girl, now both of us can get sick together!”
“That…doesn’t sound like a lot of fun.” you pouted, slowly pulling his tie out of his waist coat, gently pulling at it to give him a signal, one he instantly picked up on, “5 more minutes, then I take you upstairs and I go to work- got it?”
His question went unanswered when he felt you tug on his tie a bit harder, enough for your noses to bump, pulling at his last hopes of self-restraint, earning a groan from him, encouraging him to leave you with swollen lips, flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, as you peered up at the man who wiped your lower lip with his thumb, exactly five minutes later, mumbling, “It really isn’t smudge proof.” You didn’t really care though, too dazed to process anything, but the smudged peach tint all over his lips, one you never cleaned up or asked him to, even when he had escorted you to your office building, to your floor, standing outside the women’s washroom with an oblivious smile, earning envious looks from your so called gal pals, as you handed him the bag of your wet clothes, staring up at him as the pristine, sharply dressed corporate worker you were, with eyes soft and tender only for the man who had lip tint all over his mouth, but had no idea as he gave you a dimpled smile and a, “Your husband will see you for lunch.”
What a birthday indeed, where you had discovered two things; firstly your husband is in fact very timebound, but still finds the time to pamper you, keep up with your theatrics and get back to work like nothing had happened, secondly, you were extremely territorial and marking was now something you would often do.
A/N: I genuinely don't know, I have so much piled up to write and I just- this is my first solo Sangie fic and- I'm sick okay <3 let a girl be.
“We should have a baby.”
Yeosang was a sweet guy, a loving guy, a handsome guy, a very pretty guy, a bit absent minded guy but he was still “Your guy.” Did you mention he was a bit random sometimes, and thank God you were well aware of this trait, which is why you had only chuckled, lacing your fingers with his as the two of you walked towards your apartment.
“Missed a few steps there, don't ya think?”
His head tilted at the statement before he cleared his throat at the realization, a deep flush spreading across his face, down to his neck as he mumbled, “I mean eventually,” swinging your connected arms to distract himself, only to pout when you cackled.
“Wahh…look at Sangie, one evening with Wooyoung's kid and he suddenly wants a baby!”
You let go of his hand to turn, walking backwards, in front of him smiling up at him, “Hmmm…I mean I get it, she is a cutie, glad she took after Eve though.” You mumbled, causing him to laugh, watching your step, just to ensure you didn't trip, smiling when you continued, “But Mr.Kang, I would be honoured if you decide to bless my future offspring with your magical genes.”
“I think your genes would be better, need her to be…more confident.”
“Confident? Sangie, you're plenty confident, but having your angelic features- blessing i tell yo– did you say her?” you paused, staring up at him, as he stared down at you with an unreadable expression, slowly moving closer until he was a breath away.
Yeosang was never one to voice out his opinions, until he was sure of them, until he was sure that you were on board too and right now, the man in front of you, your husband of two years was staring at you the same way he had the night he had proposed, with a look so determined, so passionate and pure, one that would have you succumb to his every desire.
“I…would prefer…a girl,” his deep voice echoed in the silence, the chilly December night, suddenly feeling warmer and stuffier, especially when he leaned closer and brushed his lips against yours before pulling back with a gently smile, adding a hushed, “But whatever it is, as long as it's with you.” You were too dazed to respond, letting him gently clasp your sweaty hand in his cooler one, casually leading the way like he hadn’t just plucked your heart out of your chest and tucked it behind his ear- and you know what, you’d let him, it looked good there, was red and rosy, matching his birthmark, adoring his already perfect features. He could have whatever he wanted, it wasn’t often that he’d ask for something- other than food, this man couldn’t cook to save his life, so if your husband was oh so politely asking you for a child, well, why not?
“Sangie.”
“Hmmm?” The man unlocking the door responded, opening the door wide to let you in first before entering, locking up and turning around to find you sitting on the floor staring up at him as you sat there with your shoes neatly placed in the shoe rack, leaving him a bit worried, perhaps his sudden request had somehow pressured you into something- he really should have thought this through, thought of how to bring this up with you instead of just blurting it out after one baby sitting session-
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Yeosang chuckled in relief, sitting down next to you as he began to untie his shoes too, “That’s a relief, I thought I was the only one.” His smile broadened when you leaned closer, placing your head on his shoulder, only to morph into a smirk when he heard you mumble, “Might as well take a day off tomorrow then…need to practice for the baby.”
“Good idea.”
You pulled back and raised a brow, “I was joking, Sangie-”
“I wasn’t.” He stood up and pulled you along, ignoring your shy protests when he hoisted you over his shoulder, marching towards the bedroom, as you squealed, “SANGIE WAIT LET’S THINK THIS THROUGH.”
“No need to think, I’ll convince you” he declared as he kicked the bedroom door open, “Don’t worry, this is why I said let’s save up our leaves.”
Summary: Just a man yearning for his wife's undivided attention- even if it meant taking it from his kids.
Genre: Fluff
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.6
Est.Read Time: 8 min
Banner: @cafekitsune
Song Rec: Sweetness- Elliot James Reay
"Is he okay?" Wooyoung sat next to you, placing his tray on the table as the two of you watched your husband stomping into the cafeteria, glare at you as he grabbed an apple and leave.
"Its that time of the month, don't worry I'll make sure he's pregnant by next month to avoid the mood swings."
Wooyoung choked on his soda, almost toppling over as he tried to gasp for air as he tried not to drown because of his own laughter.
You glanced at the man before picking up your tray and leaving, you were done anyway, might as well get back to work, you thought to yourself as your eyes scanned the room for your overdramatic husband. Oh well, duty first, then hopelessly melodramatic lover.
.
Jongho scoffed as he walked past your cubicle, frowning at the way you were hunched over your PC, here you were slaving away instead of pondering upon your new repeated mistake, one that he had noticed as soon as it started- 2 days, it had been going on for 2 days, and you had no idea?
Through sickness and through health, huh?
"If you're done staring holes through my head, how about you spill the tea, sis?
He gasped at the interruption, his eyes locking with yours before huffing at your choice of words- no, it wasn't your choice of words by the way, they were just an indication of your love and desperation, he knew that- BUT DID YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAD DONE!?
"Figure it out and get back to me within 3 working days, Mrs. Choi."
He sauntered away, smirking to himself when he heard you huff out in frustration.
.
You closed the door behind you as you sat down, but didn't buckle up, causing the man next to you to physically malfunction when he glanced in your general direction- obstruction of safety rules? Since when was this allowed in the Choi household? Since when did the Choi Empress allow or rather practice such nonsense-
"If you don't tell me, I seriously won't talk to you for 2 days."
Jongho pouted at your statement before mumbling as he leaned closer to you, "It's nothing...forget about it." Your loving, caring and -overdramatic, petty, stupid, stubborn- handsome husband grabbed the belt. He pulled it across your body, buckling it up for you, making sure to avoid all eye contact, but his lingering touches had urged you to poke the bear.
"What.is.it?"
He ignored your questions as he drove all the way home, knowing his spawns would be waiting for you. Ready to steal your attention, your love and affection and most of all, your kisses. It's not that he didn't want that; he wholeheartedly loved and was grateful for the fact that he had been able to find such a loving partner, one who loved her children dearly, but did that mean he was okay with you neglecting him? Of course not.
Jongho followed after, once you unlocked the door and stepped inside your apartment, tackled by your triplets who began narrating how their respective days went, completely out of key and harmony. Tsk, nothing like him, just him humming a random melody had you melting in his embrace and then there were his children, completely tone deaf-
"Make room."
He blinked at his son who, after a short command, hopped onto his father's lap and showed him a piece of paper, "Look, I got a golden star today!"
Jongho, who could see nothing because the paper was practically kissing the tip of his nose, leaned back against the couch, a hand instinctively wrapping around his precious boy so he wouldn't slip, plucked the sheet out of his hand gently and moved it away so he could actually see.
"Ah...that's lovely Jin, were you drawing circles and other shapes in math today?”
“That's you…for art class.”
The father of the innocent looking boy felt his eyebrow twitch, biting his lip to control his expressions as his son looked up at him in awe, almost having his insides melt at the love in his boy's eyes.
“A-aw, thank you Ji-”
“MOVE, IT'S MY TURN!”
In a matter of seconds Jongho almost witnessed Lion King 2.0, causing him to interfere, holding onto Jin with one hand as he pulled up Jun, the second demon he had spawned, and settled him on his other thigh, giving him a playful glare, “Choi Jun. Was that very nice?”
The boy just gave his father a gummy smile before leaning closer and hugging him, “I gave a speech today!” He pulled back and stared up at his father as he started narrating his well rehearsed speech. The same speech you and your husband had helped him practice over and over again, and-
“Look at me.”
Jongho chuckled at the way tiny hands gently turned his face to the other side, squishing his cheeks as his youngest, lovely daughter smiled at him, “I slept in class today.”
You watched your kids bombard their father, fighting for his attention and affection before turning to the nanny who was packing up.
“They're obsessed with him.” The older woman, who was once your nanny, chuckled as you opened the door for her and shook your head in defeat, “For three days I've been giving them my undivided attention, yet they want his attention.”
She smiled at you before patting your cheek, “They're just like you when it comes for his attention, no?”
Your face flushed at the fact that she had casually slipped out, ducking your head as you mumbled, “See you tomorrow.” Locking the door once she was gone you turned around and walked back to the livingroom, declaring “Going to shower!”
You gained little to no acknowledgement, only a thumbs up from your husband who was trying to pull apart your sons who were now fighting over the same remote to “Show Appa my favourite show!” While…your daughter held the battery cells of the remote- welp, Jongho is gonna have fun with this.
.
You stepped out of the washroom to come face to face with your lover who was now staring at you with an unreadable expression. Raising a brow at him before he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him.
“Oh, so now you wanna play nice?”
His pout had you snort before you cupped his face and squished his cheeks, “What, Jjong?”
“You didn't kiss me for 2 days- you kiss them when they wake up, when we drop them off to school and when we come back and-”
You gently covered his mouth with your palm, stopping his monologue of self pity before you stood on your toes and whispered, much like how your children did with him when he'd begin scolding them- so they learned this nonsense from you.
“Thank you Jjong, now Wooyoung owes me lunch.”
With that you pulled your hand away, pecked his lips and skipped your way into the livingroom, declaring your presence.
The man stood there frozen, trying to process what you had just said, Wooyoung…owed you lunch? No. No, Jongho, this wasn't some silly bet, this BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN A SILLY-
“YAH!”
You looked up from the ground where you were sitting, back pressed against a cushion, surrounded by your children as your husband sat next to you, glaring at you, frowning when you winked at him and went back to watching Barney. He continued to glare at you, knowing very well that the past three days were probably some stupid bet with Wooyoung, and it irked him to the core how he had been receiving lesser love than usual because of some nonsense-
“Appa, sit.”
The tug on his pajama had him glance down at his daughter who had moved out of your lap, demanding to sit on his lap now. Once sat, the little girl turned back to the TV, glad she was secure in her father's arms. It didn't take long for your boys to follow, one sprawling on his father's legs and the other sticking to his side, snuggling closer when Jongho pulled him closer and mumbled, “You're all awake past your bedtime.”
You watched the scene unfold, the usual scene where your children would be basking in their father's attention and your husband would be too busy giving them all his attention. You were grateful to see such a healthy relationship, but that didn't mean you didn't want to roll around in his undivided attention- that's how the bet had come up anyway, Wooyoung had insisted that he wouldn't notice if you were to only pay attention to the children, but you knew your Jjong well, and you knew if there was something he hated,it was being left out. A petty attempt at seeking his attention, but a successful attempt nonetheless.
As you were about to get up to clean up, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, gently pulling you back down as he looked up at you with a kind of softness in his eyes that reminded you of why you had fallen head over heels for the man in the first place. Slowly moving closer you stroked the head of your sleeping child lovingly,but your gaze never left your husband's soft features, earning a gentle, “No more stupid bets.”
The gentle silence filled a quiet giggle, earning a scoff from him, “I only did what you do to me, Jjong.”
“Just ask for my attention next time, you brat.”
“Where's the fun in that?” You mumbled, leaning your shoulder against his, “And then how would I have Wooyoung paying for our lunch for a week?”
“This is why I fell in love with you.” He nuzzled his nose in your hair, sighing at the scent of the familiar berries, basking in your sweet scent and soft touch. He was not upset because of the bet, or because you were only paying attention to your children- no, Choi Jongho, a grown man, had been craving for the sweet kisses of his loving wife for the past few days, kisses that he had not been receiving. Glancing down, he realised you were almost asleep. He wanted to let you sleep, though he had ended up mumbling more to himself than you, when he leaned closer to brush his lips against yours, “Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?”
