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hanjisungsbiwife · 21 days
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I need more of the spidey Han agenda
BF!jisung — Spidey Couple Texts 🕷❣️
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—cw: slight swearing/suggestiveness
—an: i'm still working on a spiderhan drabble bc i'm kinda obsessed, but this will sedate me for now lol
❤️: might make spidey boi sung a sort of genre on my page tbh
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hanjisungsbiwife · 1 month
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Literally me reading this chapter 😭
TWTHH Bonus: Honeymoon Avenue
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
A/N: This picks up directly from the final part of TWTHH, and takes place before the events of Wooyoung's spinoff.
Fic Masterlist
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You let out a small groan as you woke up from your slumber, feeling a familiar pair of arms tightening their hold around you. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered where you were, blinking a few times to clear your vision and take in the surroundings you recognised as Seonghwa's private quarters.
Warmth rushed to your cheeks as you felt your husband's steady breath against the bare skin of your shoulder from behind. Shyness washed over you when you realised you were both still completely bare beneath the fabric of his comforter.
Memories of the intimacy from the previous night flooded your mind, and you buried your face in the pillow. It was as if you could still feel every touch, every kiss, and every moment of pleasure he had given you. So, this was how it felt to be loved so passionately. You hoped for nothing more than for him to be your first and last.
"Good morning, my love. I see you're up," his deep voice greeted, sounding even deeper than usual as he had only just woken up. He leaned in to whisper sensually into your ear before planting a soft kiss on your cheek, "Did you sleep well?"
Turning to face him, you nodded meekly, biting your lip, "I did, Hwa. Good morning to you too," you replied, feeling your breath hitch as his gaze focused solely on your lips.
He nodded in response, "Good, so did I." Without hesitation, he cupped your cheek and pressed his lips firmly against yours.
Your eyes fluttered shut the moment his familiar lips met yours. Kissing him back as if it were second nature, you wished for this moment to last forever as his larger frame enveloped yours, the skin-to-skin contact creating an intimacy that made you feel closer than ever. His ability to make you feel vulnerable yet safe at the same time still filled you with wonder. At that moment, his presence was all-encompassing; he was all you could see and think of.
I can't believe this man is all mine.
Seonghwa, equally content, felt his heart swell with affection for you. Caressing your cheek, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, struggling to control his breathing when you bravely reached up to run your fingers through his hair, gently tugging at it. Despite witnessing your growing boldness since his return from war, your reciprocation of his affections still stirred his heart.
I'm yours and only yours, my love.
As you finally broke the kiss to catch your breath, he grinned and murmured, "Damn, Lady Park, who would've thought you'd be such an excellent kisser." Despite the blush creeping up your cheeks, you scoffed playfully. Moving to lay your head on his chest, you traced patterns on his skin with your finger, "What do you know, General Park? You speak as though you've kissed anyone other than me."
His pride swelled as he nodded in defeat to your response. Day by day, you were increasingly embodying the essence of the general's wife with your newfound demeanour. It wasn't that you needed to change for him; rather, it was remarkable to witness your transformation into a confident woman who knew her worth, having shed the old shell crafted by your so-called family. Reflecting on his time away at war, he began to see it as a blessing in disguise. Perhaps it was necessary for you to undergo further personal growth.
Nestling into the curve of his neck, you pulled the comforter up higher to conceal your front. A shiver raced down your spine as his hand traced gentle patterns on your bare back beneath the fabric, making you feel slightly bashful at being so exposed to him. He smirked, placing a kiss on your neck and teasing, "Are you getting shy now, my wife? There's no need to cover up or hide from me; I've already seen everything."
"You can be so annoying, you know that?" Rolling your eyes, you playfully pushed at his chest, but he easily resisted, his strength overpowering your feeble attempts. With feather-light kisses dancing across your skin, he tickled you, eliciting a giggle. Chuckling, he remarked, "Oh, come on. I miss the bold Lady Park who took charge last night."
Blushing, you let out an embarrassed squeal, "Oh, quit it! Stop reminding me!" He chuckled, hugging you close against him, his voice teasing as he whispered in your ear, "Remember how badly you wanted me to undo your hanbok?"
"Shut up, Park Seonghwa, or else—"
"Or else what, my dear Lady Park?"
Your husband's smug grin only fueled your frustration. Summoning a surge of determination, you swiftly flipped him onto the bed, looming over him as you straddled his hips, "I'll make you regret it," you declared, a playful glare in your eyes.
His heart skipped a beat as he looked up at you, struck by your beauty with your long hair framing your face like a curtain.
"Go ahead, my love. Make me regret."
Unbeknownst to the two, Eunsook and the group of maids assigned to bathe the couple all exchanged sheepish glances. The head maid cleared her throat, shooting a stern look at the young maids to silence them for fear of alerting you both, ordering in a soft voice, "We'll come back later. It seems the master and mistress are not quite prepared to begin their day just yet."
Jongho was taken aback to see the elderly woman return with the maids she had brought along, supposedly to get the couple ready for the day, "Huh? Are you all finished already? That was fast."
Dismissing the maids, Eunsook offered the assistant a knowing smile, "It appears the master and mistress are, um... still occupied at the moment. We'll come back later to check on them. For now, please ensure no one disturbs them."
His ears turned red as he registered what she meant by that, nodding quickly, "Y-yes, of course! I'll make sure no one passes through."
As half a day slipped away, you and Seonghwa finally emerged from his quarters, ready to receive your baths. The maids couldn't contain their giggles as they noticed the new marks adorning your skin, evidence of the passionate night—and morning—you and the general had shared. These marks were different from your old scars—they spoke of love and affection rather than pain. You pouted at their laughter, but they only laughed harder, "Enough, you meanies."
Eunsook softened as she washed your hair, "We're just happy for you, mistress. You are happy, aren't you?"
You bit your lip, nodding, "I am happy. The happiest woman on earth, if possible."
"Then that's all that matters to us."
Their hearts warmed at the beautiful smile that graced your face, wishing for nothing more than for you to remain content for as long as possible. You, the miracle who had brought so much light into the once sombre halls of the general's estate, truly deserved all the happiness in the world.
On the other side of the room, while assisting his master with the final touches of his outfit for the day, Jongho couldn't help but notice Seonghwa's dreamy expression and the persistent little smile on his handsome face.
"You seem to be in a good mood, sir," the assistant remarked as he focused on fastening the ribbons on the general's attire. Your husband nodded, "I am. Who would've thought married life isn't half as bad as we initially believed. In fact, it's pretty damn amazing. You should try it too, Jongho."
Blinking rapidly, the younger man raised a brow, "Try what? Marriage? Sir, I have no time for that. I'd make a terrible husband."
Seonghwa sighed, "See, that's your problem. You're always too dedicated, never making time for yourself. As much as I value your dedication, I want you to find happiness too."
"I am content, sir."
"Oh, come on, that's not what I meant—"
"Your outfit is ready, sir. You're all set."
Shaking his head in resignation, the general rubbed his temples, "Wooyoung was right about you. You need to get a life."
"He said what? The audacity—"
Heaving a deep sigh, Seonghwa rubbed his eyes after going over all the reports Mingi had prepared detailing every aspect of the recent war with Ruhon—the strategies employed and areas for improvement. The documents required his stamp of approval before they were shipped off to be stored in the palace archives. The military strategist had provided such detailed explanations that they were now giving him a headache.
"Gosh, I can't decide whether I love or hate Officer Song for these long ass reports. They're thorough to the point of being exhausting," he said with a shake of his head, "Is that everything, Jongho?"
The assistant nodded, gathering the completed scrolls to be delivered to San for a final vetting, "Yes, sir. That was the last of it. You're finished for the day. If that is all, I should probably hand these over to Royal Secretary Choi immediately."
"Oh, thank god. Go ahead, Jongho."
With a respectful bow, the younger man did not waste another second making a beeline for the exit, his mind focused on nothing else but his task. The general stared after him with a defeated huff, wishing for his aide to be a little less uptight and to live a little, "I should probably find him a wife."
Speaking of wives, he was reminded of his own. Suddenly, all concerns for Jongho's love life were pushed to the back of his mind and forgotten. Excitedly rising from his seat, his heart raced with anticipation as he set off to find you. He felt bad for leaving you alone for most of the day due to his work, but now he couldn't wait to have you all to himself.
Oh, it would feel like paradise.
He frowned, his steps faltering when he found you nowhere in the House of Lotus. Hastening his pace, he headed to the garden, where you often spent time tending to the flowers with Eunsook and the maids, only to find it empty. As a last resort, he even checked Yunho's quarters, torn between relief at finding the physician alone and frustration at not finding you.
Could you be upset with him for not spending time with you all day? No, that didn't seem like you at all. You were literally the most understanding person he knew. So, where could you be hiding? The wildest scenarios began to creep into his mind when he couldn't find you. What if his enemies had somehow infiltrated the estate? What if you were kidnapped? What if—
His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of you in the living hall, seated with Hongjoong and Wooyoung, seemingly engrossed in something. The two men watched you intently, particularly the investigator, who seemed more focused on your face than whatever you were doing. With a clearing of his throat, Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest, "What are you three up to?"
Turning to glare at him, the dressmaker hushed him, "Keep it down, you doofus! She's trying to concentrate!"
Feeling offended, your husband narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to finally see what you had been up to; you were focused on learning embroidery. It dawned on him that Hongjoong must be teaching you a bit about his craft. He softened as he observed the deeply immersed look on your face, with your tongue poking out of the corner of your lips in concentration.
Good lord, she looks adorable.
In his attempt to move closer to you, he was met with yet another warning glare, causing annoyance to bubble within him. While he was grateful for the company Hongjoong and Wooyoung provided you in his absence, a part of him couldn't shake the irritation of seeing you accompanied by other men, even if they were his friends.
At that moment, he questioned why the guys were still around. The dressmaker, physician, and investigator had only been summoned while he was away at war to watch over you. Now that he was back home, he realised their presence was no longer necessary. It was then that he made a firm decision. From now on, he was determined to spend this time after your wedding alone with you.
The general wasted no time gathering his three friends that evening as soon as your embroidery lesson came to an end. With a polite yet firm tone, he explained his desire to have some alone time with you, dismissing them from the estate. Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged knowing glances, understanding the importance of the honeymoon period for passionate newlyweds like yourselves. Although Wooyoung was reluctant to go, he ultimately knew he had no choice but to comply with Seonghwa's request.
In a matter of days, the trio officially left the estate, returning to their own lives. This left you and your husband alone at last, ready to begin this new chapter of your lives together.
True to his expectations, the weeks that followed were pure bliss. He requested time off from work, and His Majesty was happy to oblige. He spent nearly every waking hour glued to you. By this point, everyone in the estate knew better than to interrupt when the master and mistress wanted privacy, ensuring the couple had all the intimate moments they needed. There were even jokes among the staff that a little Park might be on the way soon at this rate.
And perhaps their predictions weren't so far-fetched after all. It was on a fine day when you were spending another lovely afternoon in the House of Lotus practising embroidering, or at least tried to, with your husband seated behind you, his arms encircling your frame, that you began to show signs of sickness.
Leaving kisses all over your neck, he tickled you endlessly, causing you to giggle and push him away, "Hwa, please, I can't focus when you keep—" Before you could finish your sentence, a sudden wave of nausea hit you, and you let out a small gasp, pressing a hand to your chest to contain it.
Concerned, he immediately stopped and turned you around gently, "What is it, my love? Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine... the feeling's gone, maybe it was something I ate," you reassured him when he suggested summoning the physician. Eventually, he relented and left you alone.
The second time occurred during dinner, with the kitchen having prepared one of your favourite dishes. Instead of savouring it as you normally would, you pressed a hand to your nose, "You okay, my wife?" you nodded and attempted to eat, only to end up retching from the smell of the dish.
Once again, you insisted you were fine and refused to see the doctor. He let you be, telling himself that if anything else were to happen, he wouldn't hesitate to call Yunho over. You convinced him that you must have caught the cold or something, seemingly fine after some rest.
The breaking point came during a leisurely stroll together in the garden. He tightened his hold on you when he noticed you swaying slightly. Smiling up at him, you reassured him, "I'm fine, Hwa. You worry too much." To ease his worries, you pressed your lips against his. For a moment, it worked, and he lost himself in the sweet kiss.
However, when you pulled back, seemingly out of breath, his heart lurched in his chest as your eyes rolled back, and he didn't waste a second catching your limp form in his arms.
"Jongho! Get Physician Jung here now!"
The sense of terror hit Seonghwa like a tidal wave as he found himself cradling you, unconscious, on his bed. Seeing you like this scared him more than any war ever could. Yunho rushed in shortly after, and the general reluctantly stepped aside to let the doctor examine you. Gently, he held your wrist, reading your pulse, after ensuring you were physically alright.
A few tense moments later, the taller man turned around with a smile, and your husband held his breath, "Congratulations, General Park. Your wife is with child."
Emotions surged within your husband as he released a sigh of relief, tears gathering in his eyes. The realisation dawned on him—of course, you were pregnant. How had he not considered that sooner? Slowly, the significance of it all began to sink in. The love of his life was carrying his child.
I'm going to be a father.
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Y'all, I was sleep-deprived asf writing the second half part of this bonus part HAHA I hope it didn't seem rushed or anything.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rhwa @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @idfkeddieishot
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hanjisungsbiwife · 2 months
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Adding this to my re-read comfort series list…
The Way to His Heart [20]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 5k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 19 | Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist
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San bowed his head as he absorbed the Queen's narration of the fourth prince's attempt to steal the general's wife during his absence at war, fearing the wrath of His Majesty and reeling from his own shock. Had he been aware of Prince Yeosang's plans beforehand, the royal secretary might have prevented you from attending the supposed birthday banquet in the first place.
The entire palace staff in the grand hall was startled as the King slammed his hand against the armrest of his throne, "The fourth prince did what?! This is outrageous! I've warned you countless times about spoiling him too much, my Queen."
Rubbing his temples, His Majesty shook his head and let out a heavy sigh, "We'll deal with him later. For now, confine him to his private chambers. He's only allowed in the royal library for his studies. The last thing we need is for him to unexpectedly show up at General Park's wedding and cause chaos."
Lowering her head, Her Majesty conceded, "Yes, Your Majesty. It's my responsibility. I know I should have been firmer with him."
"We're fortunate Lady Park handled the situation gracefully. I can see why Seonghwa is so enamoured with her," The King remarked with a slight smile before addressing San, "Secretary Choi, ensure that all funding for Prince Yeosang is withheld until further notice. Given his rebellious nature, he would likely find a way to disobey orders. Without financial resources, let's see what he can attempt."
As the Queen's lips parted to plead for leniency, His Majesty silenced her with a stern glare, leaving no room for argument. The weight of guilt settled heavily in her chest, a stark reminder of her own role in enabling the prince's behaviour. She couldn't deny that she simply wanted her fourth son to find happiness, but she knew deep down that her indulgence had contributed to his disobedient nature.
With a heavy heart, she reminded herself that this was not even the prince's harshest punishment yet. She could only imagine what further consequences awaited him at the hands of his father.
The royal secretary bowed in acknowledgement, "Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything else you would like to add?"
The King straightened up, his demeanour shifting as he moved on from the matter concerning his son, "It would be great if you could visit the general's estate and inquire about his well-being on my behalf. Once he's feeling all better, arrange a meeting promptly so we can proceed with his wedding ceremony without delay."
With a final bow, San prepared to take his leave, but before he could depart, the ageing monarch extended a hand to stop him, "Wait, Secretary Choi! There is one last matter," His Majesty interjected, "Please extend my sincere apologies to General Park for my son's behaviour and express gratitude for his dedicated service to the nation. See to it that we cover all his medical expenses."
"Of course, my King."
The royal secretary stood before the entrance of his friend's estate the next day, feeling a slight hesitation before announcing himself. While His and Her Majesty bore some responsibility for the fourth prince's actions, San couldn't shake the feeling of personal responsibility. After all, he had been the one to prepare you for the supposed royal event, unknowingly sending you into the lion's den. He couldn't help but feel like a bad friend to Seonghwa, questioning whether he had done enough to protect the general's wife in his absence.
"I'm sorry to intrude on your moment of reflection, but how much longer do you plan to linger by the entrance, sir?" The private investigator's voice snapped San out of his trance, prompting him to blink rapidly as he recognised the familiar figure leaning against the main gate, eyeing him with curiosity.
Clearing his throat, San composed himself, "O-oh, hello! I, uh... I was just about to enter. It's nice to properly meet you, Investigator Jung. My name is—"
"Royal Secretary Choi San, I know. We're all aware, don't worry! It's an honour to be recognised by you, sir. Come on, you must be here to see General Park. Let me show you to him; Jongho's occupied at the moment," Wooyoung led the way, the secretary noting his talkative nature, "You won't believe what he's up to right now; he's such a peculiar kid. Takes dedication to a whole new level, I'll tell you that..."
At a certain point, San tuned out the rambling, focusing instead on mentally preparing himself to face you and your husband again. Would Seonghwa be displeased with him for not coming to his wife's rescue when she needed it the most? He wouldn't be surprised at all if the general were to be truly upset with him.
Before he could further overthink it, they arrived at the living hall where the couple was seated and engaged in conversation with the famous dressmaker Kim and skilled Physician Jung. Your husband looked up as if sensing his presence, beaming, "Ah, you're here, San! Come join us. We knew you'd be showing up sometime this week. I assume His Majesty has received my letter, yes?"
The secretary was taken aback, to say the least. First of all, he didn't think he deserved the warm welcome, and secondly, he had believed Seonghwa's injury to be severe, so seeing him looking almost back to his usual self shocked him. Though the older man appeared a bit paler than usual, San was primarily relieved to see his friend alive and well. Memories of the panic he had felt upon first receiving news of the general's poisoning flooded back to him.
Oh, thank god he's okay.
Greeting everyone in the hall with a polite bow, he cleared his throat, "You have no idea how relieved I am to see you alright, General Park. But before I deliver His Majesty's message, I feel compelled to offer my apologies to you and Lady Park."
Confusion creased your brow as you asked, "Whatever for, San?"
With a sigh, he admitted, "You're both too kind for your own good. I should have been more vigilant and prevented Lady Park from attending Prince Yeosang's birthday banquet in the first place. If only I had intervened, she wouldn't have gone through—"
You interjected with a gentle chuckle, "Please, don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known. If you had, I'm certain you would have acted to prevent it."
Seonghwa nodded in agreement, adding, "San, you're far too hard on yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for; you've been nothing but a great help to my wife. Now, please, take a seat and join us."
Amidst the comforting smiles around him, the secretary finally eased into his seat. Eunsook promptly served him tea and refreshments, signalling the start of their discussions. San's revelation caught everyone off guard since they had yet to receive word from Mingi: the war had ended, and Ruhon had surrendered. As they exchanged incredulous glances, a wave of relief washed over them, followed by cheers of joy. The general and his wife shared a meaningful gaze, hands clasped together as you exchanged soft smiles. San understood the significance of that moment—the two could finally proceed with the long-awaited wedding ceremony.
The worst is finally over.
Unable to contain his curiosity, San finally inquired about how the general had sustained his injury. Your husband recounted the harrowing experience, his friends visibly wincing as they imagined the scenario. Your heart ached as you listened. Sensing the tension, Yunho jumped in, reassuring everyone that the injury wasn't severe and that with proper rest, Seonghwa would be back to full health in a matter of weeks.
"That's a relief. Once you're feeling better, we'll arrange a meeting with Their Majesties to plan your wedding. That's the main reason His Majesty sent me here today, aside from checking on you," The hall buzzed with excitement, but the general sensed that the secretary had more to say, "Is there something else, San?"
Taking a deep breath, San continued, "The King also wants to extend his sincerest apologies for the fourth prince's actions. As part of his punishment, Prince Yeosang has been confined to his private chambers, and his funds have been frozen. His Majesty is concerned about him causing any disruptions at your wedding."
"Oh, good riddance!" While Hongjoong and Wooyoung clapped with Yunho silently judging them from his corner, you appeared unsettled by the news. Feeling your unease, your husband tightened his grip on your hand and asked, "What's wrong, my love?"
The news of the prince's fate left you with mixed emotions. You felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of him being barred from your wedding. Despite his actions, you couldn't deny that he was still a friend to you and a part of you felt sorry for the struggles he faced all his life due to his birthmark. Understanding the complexities of his situation, you empathised with his confusion and desperation that stemmed from his severe lack of experience with love.
With a small gulp, you turned to your husband, voicing, "Hwa, I... I think I'd still want His Highness at our wedding, if he wished to attend," Surprised looks crossed the faces of everyone in the hall. As you explained your reasoning, they began to understand your perspective. After a moment of contemplation, Seonghwa lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of your palm with a reassuring smile, "Fair enough. If that's truly what you want, we'll discuss it with the King."
In keeping with his promise, you found yourself seated beside your husband as you faced His and Her Majesty for the first time a few weeks later, now that he was fully recovered. Sensing your nervousness about the meeting, the royal couple greeted you warmly, swiftly putting you at ease. After exchanging pleasantries, the general wasted no time in making his request.
"My King, we've heard about the punishment for the fourth prince," He began, "But my wife and I would like to request that you at least allow His Highness to attend our wedding if he wishes."
Confusion flickered across His Majesty's face, "You do? But why?" He inquired. The Seonghwa he once knew would have been furious and unforgiving. It seemed Lady Park had a positive influence on him.
Feeling it was only right for you to respond since it was your personal request, you gathered your thoughts before speaking.
"Your Majesty, I understand that Prince Yeosang's actions may seem outrageous from an outsider's perspective. However, I believe His Highness has endured a painful life, facing discrimination due to his birthmark. It's clear he mistook kindness for love, given his limited experiences. Despite his mistakes, he remains a dear friend to me. It would be meaningful to have him at our celebration, if he chooses to attend. I hope you can understand, Your Majesties. I apologise if I've spoken too much and am overstepping boundaries."
As your words sank in, a wave of introspection washed over the King. For the first time, he found himself reflecting on his relationship with Yeosang. Had he been too harsh on his son? Had he failed to understand the pain his son bore due to his birthmark? The King couldn't shake the feeling of guilt as he realised that he may have viewed his son more as a burden than a beloved child. Perhaps there were times when he had even considered the prince's refusal to marry as a personal affront.
The sudden realisation left the King feeling conflicted and remorseful. He wondered if he had been a horrible father, too absorbed in his duties as a monarch to truly understand his son's struggles. It was a sobering moment for him, realising that he may have overlooked his son's pain and loneliness. Was this why the Queen had been so persistent in advocating leniency towards Yeosang? Was she trying to make up for his shortcomings as a father? These questions weighed heavily on his mind as he grappled with his newfound awareness of his own failings.
His and Her Majesty exchanged a meaningful glance. Suddenly, they understood why the fourth prince would mistake his gratitude towards you for love. After all, you had shown him a kindness and compassion he had rarely experienced, even from his own family.
Beginning to feel anxious at the royal couple's silence, you awaited their response with bated breath, with Seonghwa ready to support you if needed. To your relief, they smiled warmly at you.
"Please don't apologise for that, Lady Park," They reassured you, "You're right; perhaps we've been too harsh on him all this while. If having him at your wedding is what you wish, we shall allow it."
"Thank you, Your Majesties."
The Queen sighed softly before adding, "But whether or not he wishes to attend is ultimately his decision. Let's hope he chooses to join us for your sake."
You nodded in understanding, "Of course, I completely understand."
As the preparations for your wedding ceremony unfolded, time seemed to pass in a blur. Traditionally, weddings entail two parts: the first at the bride's home, where the couple honours her ancestors and family, and the second at the groom's home for the same purpose. However, due to your circumstances, with no family home for you and Seonghwa having little connection to his parents or ancestors, your wedding would be simplified, taking place solely within the palace grounds, where the royal family would also be able to attend, given that most of them are not allowed to leave the place.
In no time, you found yourself comfortably seated in one of the palace chambers, which had been graciously lent to you for the day. Hongjoong immediately began working on perfecting your look, with Eunsook and a team of palace maids assisting him.
You couldn't help but marvel at the exquisite hanbok now adorning your figure. Unlike the traditional red hanbok worn by most brides, this one was a stunning combination of white and gold. It was a testament to the dressmaker's dedication to his friend's request to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon.
Instead of the usual red flower, Hongjoong meticulously painted a gold flower on your forehead to complement your exquisite hanbok. You admired how perfectly it matched your outfit and the gold accessories adorning your hair. While part of you wondered if it was appropriate to outshine the royals, as the dressmaker had emphasised countless times, another part of you chose to revel in the admiration you would receive. You couldn't believe how far you'd come from being the scared girl who once endured disdainful glances and disrespect before marrying Seonghwa.
Reflecting on your journey, you felt grateful for the twists and turns that had brought you to this moment. Perhaps Jinjoo was right; you were quite thankful to your family for orchestrating your union with the general. Without them, you wouldn't be here, basking in the happiness you had finally found.
I guess we're even now, father.
Noticing your silence and distant gaze in the mirror's reflection, the dressmaker lightly nudged you on the shoulder, "Well? How do you like this look, my lady? Please don't tell me you're having second thoughts about standing out now. I've spent the past month working tirelessly on this hanbok—"
You giggled and offered a soft smile to your friend, "Don't worry, Hongjoong. It's perfection. For once, I think it's okay for me to outshine even the princesses. After all, it's my wedding ceremony, and I'll only be getting married once."
His grin widened proudly as he saw you slowly shedding your old self, no longer the timid girl he first met, "Damn right, it's perfection. I create only that and nothing less," He joked before turning serious, "Listen, I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Seonghwa's a dear friend to me, and I honestly would've thrown a bigger tantrum than he did if he had been arranged to marry some spoiled brat. You don't know how happy I am that you've found each other. But if that idiot does anything to upset you again, you better tell me."
You chuckled through your tears, your throat tightening at his heartfelt words, "You bet I will. Thank you, Hongjoong."
He panicked when he noticed your wet eyes, "Hey, hey, hey. Don't you dare start crying, woman. If you cry, I'll cry too. And trust me, that's not a good look for either of us. Plus, you can't ruin your makeup!"
His jest seemed to do the trick, eliciting another round of laughter from you. Fussing over you one last time, he noticed the palace staff at the entrance signalling it was time for you to be on standby. Gently grasping your shoulders, he beamed at you like a proud father, "Are you ready, Lady Park?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
With the nervous beat of your heart echoing in your ears, you were guided to the main hall, where the rituals would soon unfold, with Eunsook at your side. Hongjoong had departed after ensuring you looked flawless, joining the other wedding guests. As you reached the waiting area, where final checks would be made before your grand entrance and your first meeting with your husband today, your steps faltered.
While the head maid busied herself tidying your hair and smoothing the creases in your hanbok, you gulped, "Eunsook, t-tell me... this isn't a dream, is it?"
The elderly woman giggled, gently taking hold of your hands, "Are you still asking me that, mistress? Do you remember the first time you asked me that question?"
You nodded, reminiscing about the first time you had allowed the maids to bathe you after Seonghwa had discovered your scars. So much has changed since then. Though you weren't the same person you once were, a small part of you still harboured a fear that this all might be too good to be true. It felt like a long dream, and you couldn't shake the worry that you would one day wake up back in the hellhole you once called home.
Giving your hand a comforting squeeze, she smiled, "Well, I'm here to reassure you once more that this is all very real. Perhaps you fear losing the happiness you've found and you're not alone in that. Master feels the same way, so do all of us at the estate. We all fear losing the happiness that you've brought into our lives. I hope you haven't forgotten what I've said to you: you are our light and our hope. You're incredibly important to all of us. You still are, and always will be."
"She's right, you know?"
A familiar deep voice interrupted, startling both you and Eunsook as an unexpected figure appeared behind you. Surprised, you turned to find Prince Yeosang standing there, arms casually intertwined behind his back, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed your reaction.
"Y-Your Highness?" You stammered, half-expecting his absence.
He continued, "You should've seen General Park earlier as they got him dressed. All he cared about was how you were doing. I guess that's what you meant by true love, huh? I wish it were just a dream for me, but it's not. So, don't you worry, Lady Park, this is all very real. I didn't give up on you for you to doubt this reality. Please make my choice worth it and be happy, okay?"
Relief flooded through you, reassured by his acceptance of your new chapter, "I promise I will make it worth it. Thank you, my prince, for choosing to be here today and for your kind words." You replied, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
He grinned in response, "Of course, wouldn't miss my first and only friend's wedding for the world," With a playful wink, he gestured towards the palace staff entering to usher you out, "Now hurry and get out there, don't make him wait any longer."
At last, all is right in the world.
Returning his smile with gratitude, you took a deep breath before stepping forward. As you walked out, you felt a newfound readiness wash over you. You were prepared now; ready to formally be wedded to Park Seonghwa, not out of obligation, but out of pure love for him. You were ready to be the wife he needed, the shoulder he could lean on when the weight of his responsibilities grew heavy. You were ready to be his home, his refuge, ready to be everything to him, just as he was everything to you.
As Seonghwa stepped out from his side of the waiting area, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you approaching from the opposite end. Each time he laid eyes on you, he thought you couldn't possibly become more beautiful, yet you continued to prove him wrong. Hongjoong had outdone himself once again; you looked more majestic than any royalty he had ever seen.
You stood out among the crowd, exuding grace and elegance in your one-of-a-kind hanbok. As you glided toward him, he felt overwhelmed by your beauty. But it wasn't just the general who was stunned; every guest at the ceremony had their jaws drop in awe at your ethereal appearance. Those seeing you for the first time now realised the whispers and rumours about your beauty were true. Truly, you looked like an angel descended from the heavens.
As the rituals unfolded, requiring you and Seonghwa to stand across from each other and perform a series of bows as instructed by the wedding officiator, each gesture symbolising a different aspect of your commitment to each other, you both remained focused on each other. Despite the lengthy and tedious proceedings, all you could see was one another as you patiently waited for it all to be over.
The guests cooed in anticipation as it was time for you and your husband to exchange a cup of wine, the act symbolising longevity and fertility. You blushed lightly as you heard Wooyoung among the crowd squealing, only to be smacked silent by Jongho and Yunho who stood by his side.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the seemingly endless rituals were concluded. You and the general bowed together a few more times: once to His and Her Majesty, once to the gods, and once to the guests. With that, the ceremony was complete, and you could finally bask in the joy of being officially united as husband and wife.
After the two of you expressed gratitude to the King and Queen for their assistance in making the wedding possible, the feast began. As neither you nor Seonghwa had any family present, you were naturally surrounded by your closest companions, the guys. Your husband took the opportunity to introduce you to the only friend of his whom you had yet to meet.
Grateful for his presence, you smiled warmly at the strategist, "Thank you for always looking out for my husband, Officer Song."
Mingi grinned bashfully, his cheeks tinged with a slight blush. He still seemed taken aback by your beauty, "Not at all, my lady. It's General Park who has been looking out for me all this while."
Seonghwa smirked knowingly, giving the taller man a playful nudge, "Thanks again for coming, man. A little birdie told me you've reunited with a special someone. Can we expect a wedding invite soon?"
The guys around the table teased with mischievous oohs as Mingi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I don't know, hyung-nim. I'm working on it. But let's not talk about me, it's your big day!"
Hongjoong, however, wasn't having it, "Oh, come on, don't you dare change the subject! We need details about this mysterious lady!" He insisted, eager for gossip. The other guys excitedly chimed in, urging the officer to spill the beans about the royal physician who had captured his attention for years.
Amidst their playful interrogation of Mingi, you glanced around the room, curious to see if the fourth prince was still present. Catching sight of him, you noticed he was discreetly making his way toward the exit. Sensing your gaze, he turned, meeting your eyes. He offered you a genuine smile and a final nod before vanishing from view.
May happiness find you, Your Highness.
The remainder of the ceremony proceeded seamlessly, thanks to the meticulous arrangements made by the palace staff. As night fell, you returned to Seonghwa's private chambers, where the two of you would share a meal and some drinks before... going to bed. Your heart pounded with nervousness, fully aware of the significance of the evening; you would both be expected to consummate your marriage tonight.
"My love, are you feeling alright?" You blinked rapidly, coming back to reality as your husband waved his hand in front of your face to grab your attention. You nodded quickly and resumed eating, trying to appear casual, "Y-yes, I'm fine, Hwa. Don't worry about me."
But the general was more perceptive than you realised. He could sense your unease, especially as the meal was drawing to a close. With a soft smile, he set down his wine glass and reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Why do you bother lying to me, you silly girl? Did you think I would be disappointed in you?"
He knew he had guessed correctly when your chewing momentarily paused. Shifting his hand to cup your cheek, he gently guided you to meet his warm gaze, "What do you take me for, hm? We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready. I can wait, I'll wait for as long as you need," With a tender kiss on your forehead, he rose from his seat, "I'll get the maids to prepare the House of Lotus for you."
Feeling deeply touched by his understanding, you realised how foolish you had been to once fear the possibility of him hurting you. Truthfully, it wasn't that you didn't want to deepen your intimacy with him; rather, you were scared. He would be the first man to see all of you, every scar on your body, and you feared what he might think, feared letting him down. But his love for you reminded you of his kindness and brought you a newfound confidence.
Before he could leave, you panicked and reached for his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, "No, Hwa, please don't. I want to... I-I want to stay with you tonight."
Kneeling before you, he gently took your hands in his, "Are you sure, my love? You don't have to force yourself—"
You cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his. He responded almost immediately, and you smiled at the small whine he let out as he chased after your lips when you pulled away. Whispering, you said, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to stay with you, Park Seonghwa. You're not getting rid of me tonight, or ever."
Unable to restrain himself any longer, he immediately captured your lips in a deep kiss, one passionate enough to leave you dizzy. With his guidance, you rose from your seat, your lips still connected, and he lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards his bed. Both your hearts raced as you broke the kiss to catch your breath, panting as he gently set you down.
Your breath caught as you leaned against the pillows behind you, trapped between his arms as before, reminiscent of the interrupted moment with Hongjoong. However, this time, it wasn't you who halted the moment. The general's gaze turned serious as he locked eyes with you, his voice low, "Last chance. We can still stop if you want to change your mind. Because if we go any further from here, I'm afraid I won't be able to hold myself back."
Cupping his face, you leaned in to kiss him softly, murmuring, "I love you, Hwa." If that wasn't enough to convey your feelings, you guided his hands to the ribbon securing the outer layer of your hanbok, silently granting him permission to undress you.
The first time he had aggressively torn your clothing was a mistake he regretted deeply. Now, he approached it with care, delicately untying the ribbon and holding his breath as he removed the garment, exposing your shoulders once more. The faint traces of your old scars were visible, but they didn't faze him. Tilting your chin up, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "You're so beautiful, my wife. I love you too."
Wrapping your arms around his neck, your eyes fluttered close as he kissed you again, banishing all previous worries from your mind. When he pulled away, his lips trailed down your neck until they reached your scars. Gently pushing some hair away from his face, you stroked his head affectionately, watching as he showered each mark with kisses. As his hand hovered over the ribbon securing the inner layer of your hanbok, he looked up at you one last time, knowing there would be no turning back from this moment onward.
"I'll be gentle, my love, I promise."
"I know, Hwa, I trust you."
That night, you and Seonghwa became lost in each other, the boundaries between you fading away as you become one for the first time. In each other's arms, you discovered a love deeper than you ever thought possible. You found yourself no longer able to picture your life without him at this point.
Reflecting on your journey together, you marvelled at how much he had changed since you first met. Back then, you could never have imagined that he would come to love you so deeply, nor could you have anticipated the depth of your own feelings for him. Now, as you lay intertwined with him in the quiet of the night, you knew that you had arrived at your destination. It had been a long journey, filled with obstacles and challenges, but in the end, you found it.
You had finally found the way to his heart.
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Y'all, I hope this one didn't disappoint! The pressure of knowing this was the final part was so SO REAL. Maybe it's my insecurities kicking in, but I genuinely hope this meets expectations!😭
Also, I know the story is completed but I have good news! I've decided to do some fluff-filled bonus chapters because I'm well aware this is barely enough to make up for all the angst I've put y'all through HAHA if you're not on the tag list and would like to be tagged for any future bonus content, just leave a comment to let me know!
Whoo, it's been quite the roller coaster ride now, hasn't it? If you've made it this far, I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story! From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for reading and as always, please let me know your thoughts! <3
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hanjisungsbiwife · 3 months
Text
u got it bad - san (m)
summary: baseball player!san x reporter!reader. you've been covering your local team for years. the players, the coaches, everybody knows you. except for newbie choi san. he just joined the team, but he knows you from somewhere...maybe the bar last night?
word count: 14.5k
warnings: lots of baseball jargon, afab reader, sex (some protected some not), thigh riding, oral (barely. m receiving tho), a little cockwarming
masterlist
you love your job. as a kid, you always dreamed of working here, walking into this stadium every day, and doing what you loved most. granted, back then you were imagining yourself as one of the players, but oh well. a girl can still dream, right?
you landed the job as sideline reporter for your favorite baseball team right out of college. they wanted someone willing to stick around for a while, and you recall telling them in your interview, "if i start working here, you'll never be able to get rid of me." they loved it, and they loved that you were a hometown supporter. it made your stories more meaningful, gave you a point of view that fans could appreciate. you were able to write touching pieces on the players, give the season the dramatic arc on camera that it deserved, and you treated everyone at the team with respect. that respect went both ways, with the players, coaches, front office staff...everyone knew who you were and included you as if you were a part of the team.
you had to work hard for that respect. it didn't take long for you to prove yourself, but it did take several sleepless nights and countless overtime hours to become the reporter you are. you know everything about this team, and that's what makes you so good.
because you know eveything, you obviously know that they're close to signing star right fielder choi san. you've heard talk that it's basically done, he flew in this morning and is set to sign his contract first thing tomorrow. of course, you had memorized his past work jumping around the league as soon as the rumors started. it was your job, after all, to know these things. you knew he was great on the field, that was easy, but everyone loved him in the dugout. he's the kind of player that remembers everyone's names, brings gifts for the team around the holidays, asks about your family when he sees you. he's a stand up guy, you hear.
you've also heard that he likes to play the field outside of the stadium, if you catch my drift. he's very popular with the ladies in whatever city he deems to call home for that season, and as you walk through your favorite bar outside the stadium, you can tell the women here already know choi san is close by.
one thing you do not know is that san is in this bar, right now. yes, he's signing his contract tomorrow, but he wanted to visit the stadium today, when it was still quiet. he likes getting the feel of a team before he joins, so he wandered around the empty stadium a few times before coming here to clear his head. upon entering, he sees his face plastered on all the tvs as espn does a deep dive into what his move here might mean. he thought he was screwed, that people would immediately notice him, but so far so good. he's got a nondescript cap on and dark sweats, so he hopes his booth in the corner is enough to keep him hidden while he has a celebratory pint. he doesn't report to training until day after tomorrow, so he thought he could treat himself tonight.
as he sits and drinks, soaking in the atmosphere, he has to laugh. he wants to stay hidden, but really, with his likeness and his entire career plastered on every screen above the bar, you'd think someone would know. at least look at him and make a comment about the resemblance. but it doesn't seem like anyone here knows a thing.
except you. as you sit at the bar, swirling the straw in your glass, you take a look around. there's some regulars that smile and wave, but for the most part it's not that busy. maybe that's what makes him stand out more. your eyes fall on choi san, all star right fielder and the newest member of your team, trying to hide in the corner. but his sharp eyes and broad shoulders alert you immediately that the subject of all your recent studies is here. and he's staring at you. you stare back, and he quirks an eyebrow, almost like a challenge.
you take the bait and make your way to his table.
"anyone sittin' here?" you ask in a slight southern accent, and san smiles. it's been a while since he played in the south. he forgot how charming it can be. maybe he'll catch himself a southern belle while he's here.
"saved it for you," he smirks, and you hum as you sit across from him. he sees your almost empty glass and states, "looks like you need another."
"ah, i probably shouldn't," you shake your head. "got an early morning."
"me too," san nods, that smirk still comfortably on his face. "so what's your name, beautiful?"
"y/n," you reply. you try not to let your heart flutter at the nickname, or the way he's staring at you, but it's hard. "yours?"
"san," he says simply. "you from here, y/n?"
"born and raised," you answer. "you new to the city?"
"you could say that," he sighs. "just moved here for work, but i've visited a couple times."
"how are you likin' it so far?"
"to be honest?" he makes a face. "it's kind of boring."
"excuse me?" you're taken aback. you don't take kindly to people badmouthing your hometown, and you don't like the mischievous spark in san's eyes as he continues.
"well, girl as pretty as you not taking me up on my offer of another round, that's no fun is it?" he teases.
"ahah," you laugh halfheartedly. "sure, i can see why that would upset you."
"i'm not upset, doll, just disappointed."
"well, hate to disappoint you further, but i really do have an early morning," you say as you start to rise. "just saw a stranger sittin' all by his lonesome and thought i would say hi."
"i'm glad you did," san raises his glass to you. "maybe i'll see you around?"
"maybe," you shrug, trying to bite back a smile. "nice meeting you san."
you feel his eyes on you as you return your glass to the bar, waving goodbye to the bartender before you head to the door. you turn before you leave, meeting san's eyes across the room, and you just smile to yourself as you step outside.
-
san is the first one in the clubhouse the next day. he loves the smell of an empty locker room, untainted by the man stench that inevitably comes with a roomful of athletes. he smiles warmly as he walks in and sees his locker decorated in welcome. he's looking through all the gifts, some regulation equipment he asked for and some just goodies from the team, as the players start slowly arriving.
the first to arrive is jongho. he's the catcher, and san finds it easy to talk to him. he seems quiet, but most catchers are the stoic type, so maybe jongho will open up to him in time. the next guy in has the opposite issue. wooyoung, the shortstop, immediately claps san into a hug, babbling a mile a minute about how great it's gonna be to have him on the team.
san gets stuck talking to wooyoung for a while, which he doesn't mind. they get along quickly, but as they talk the rest of the team trickles in. hongjoong, the second baseman, waves to san from across the room. seonghwa, the left fielder, carefully places his things into the locker next to san's, then gives san a wordless handshake and a warm smile. yunho, the first baseman, is spread out at the locker to san's right. mingi, the third baseman, is next to him. wooyoung finally leaves for his locker next to hongjoong, and next to him is yeosang, the center fielder. pitchers must not report today, because san scans the room and counts eight.
he checks the time and notices he's almost late for his press conference, so he gets to work getting dressed before someone appears at his side to escort him down the hall. she works in media relations and gives him the run down of the conference, explaining that the coach will do a quick intro before san comes up to say a few words. they'll shake hands, he'll sign his contract, and then take a few questions before reporting to more press stuff. nothing he hasn't done before, but san still brushes his sweaty hands on his pants to calm his nerves as they enter.
san hears the chatter of the press die down as their eyes fall on him. it's a big room, lots of reporters and cameras, and he smiles and waves as he gets ushered to the side of the makeshift stage in the front. the coach steps up then, welcoming everyone and giving a bit of insight on why they wanted to sign san. this team desperately needed a right fielder, so in all the negotiations it was basically just their operations team begging san to come play for them. the coach paints it a different way, and san does his best to grab onto a few phrases so he can sprinkle them into his own speech. the coach calls him up and san takes a seat next to him, falling smoothly into his regular "happy to be here, excited at the opportunity" spiel. he scans the room and recognizes a few faces, so he gets more comfortable as he goes on.
"i think at the end of the day, i'm looking for a team that i can be with for a long time," san starts to conclude. "and so far, i'm really liking it here. maybe this will be that team."
he goes through the motions of signing, shaking hands, posing for pictures, and then settles back into his seat for the question portion. at his other teams, he's been allowed to pick the press he talks to, so he scans the room for familiar faces, but media relations steps in and starts calling names. the first one takes him by surprise, and a smile grows on his face as he sees who steps up.
"y/f/n, local news," you smile back at san as the recognition crosses his features. "you said you're liking the city so far? can i ask what makes you think this team, this franchise, will be the one to make you stay?"
"you were at the bar last night," he responds, and you feel yourself blush. a chuckle ripples through the crowd of reporters as san goes on. "sorry, just. this is a surprise, is all."
"i agree," you quip back. "because yesterday you told me you didn't like this city. so i'm just wondering what made you change your mind."
"honestly? the people," he answers sincerely, holding your gaze. "it's hard to explain, but things feel...different here. i've never been with a team where the players are so welcoming, the staff is so kind, and the reporters are hanging out at local bars after hours." another laugh. "so i think this franchise might have more of the culture i've been missing from those other teams i've played for. that answer your question, y/n?"
"yep," you give him a satisfied nod. "happy to have you here, san."
"happy to be here," he smiles, and you swear the lights from all the cameras make his teeth sparkle. he keeps staring at you as media relations calls for the next question, and only when his attention is no longer on you do you realize that your heart is beating too fast.
-
today's only a press day for the boys, there's no actual training that needs to happen, but that doesn't mean the clubhouse is calm. no, actually, there's more people here than there will be for the rest of the season, what with all the camera crews and a few stylists running around. oh, and the fact that everyone who works here wants to get a peek at choi san. he left the press conference and saw a group down the hall, staring and whispering. san wasn't sure which way to go to find the locker room, so he approaches the group with a smile. turns out it's front office staff, part timers, anyone who works here that needed to see san with their own eyes to believe he's really playing here. he's charming as ever, learning everyone's names, signing things, taking pictures. he even stands by happily as an older woman calls her grandsons, and they laugh together as the little boys squeal in excitement.
san stays until everyone has what they wanted, which must have taken a while, because he sees the press trickling out toward the exit. he keeps his eyes peeled for one person in particular, and when you pass through the doors and turn san's way, he smiles. you stop, eyes focused on the notebook you're furiously scribbling in, so you don't see him. that won't do, san thinks, so walks over and stops in front of you with a sigh.
"what do you want san," you ask it as a statement, eyes not moving from your notes.
"how'd you know it was me?"
"i know everything," you look up then, meeting his smile with one of your own. "and you've got cleats on, so i knew it wasn't anybody from your fan club coming to ask for my notes."
"my fan club?" he laughs, but you can tell it boosts his ego. "i think they're just fans of the team."
"are you always like this?" you ask thoughtfully, and san says he doesn't know what you're talking about. "you're not cocky, but you're humble, and you're cocky about being humble. does that make sense?" you stop to scribble that down, and san tries again to see what else you've written. you catch him this time, tugging the notes just out of his line of sight. "don't you have pictures to take?"
"how'd you-"
"i told you, i know everything," you joke again, taking a moment to stuff your pen back in your bag. that leaves your notebook unattended, and san snatches it, running a few steps down the hall with evil glee. you stomp after him and fail in grabbing it from his eager hands.
"hey, this is good," san reads, his eyes scanning the paper. "you write all your stuff by hand?"
"depends," you shrug. "i started getting bored at the end of that talk and i needed to organize my thoughts."
"oh i can tell you were bored," san smirks, his eyes flicking to you. "i like the doodle of me."
"that doodle could be of anybody," you say as you finally snatch your notebook back. you put it securely in your bag as san continues to look smug.
"i think it was a doodle of me," he says as he starts walking away. "if you ever want me to sit for another portrait, you know where to find me, doll."
"where ya goin'?" you ask him, and he stops. he looks down the hall in front of him back towards you with his thumb pointing behind him.
"to the locker room?"
"that's this way dummy," you point, and you're pleased to see his ears turn red as he corrects his steps. you're heading to the exit, so you walk in the same direction briefly. san slows his steps to keep up with you, and he's so close that his hand keeps brushing yours.
"looks like this is where i leave ya, doll," he sighs, and you wave as you keep walking. "i'll see you soon?"
"you'd like that wouldn't you?" you turn around with a smirk, watching san as you push through the doors to the parking lot. "bye san."
-
san loves the first practice of the season. he loves the feeling of walking onto a brand new field, seeing the empty stadium ahead. at his his other teams, he's had to make this walk alone, his former teammates usually more reserved or too good to talk to him. not here, though. as he takes the field, he finds himself engrossed in a deep argument with jongho and wooyoung about the best world series team of all time, and san feels giddy. he feels like he did when he was a kid, playing ball with his friends, and it's only the first day of practice! imagine what an entire season here would be like. every day, san is thankful he made this move.
another reason for san to be happy he's here is, well, you. working with the press at other teams wasn't exactly a thrill, but rather a part of the job he had to get through. here he's eager to give a statement, always willing to join a press conference, just to have the chance of messing with you.
as he makes the long walk to the outfield for warm ups, san sees someone by the visitor's dugout who's not in uniform. he squints a little in the early morning sun and sees that it's a woman, but assumes it's someone from the front office. he keeps walking, but a laugh echoes out and san turns back to this mystery woman.
"y/n?" he shouts, holding his glove over his eyes to see if that'll block out the sun. sure enough, you turn from your talk with the managers to send him a wave, and that giddy feeling san had walking onto the field is back. "what are you doing here?"
"my job!" you shout back, and with that you go back to work. one of the coaches jogs by san then, tossing a baseball in his direction.
"stop shoutin', son," he says. "go throw that in left field. seonghwa will take you through the warm ups, then we'll come together for drills."
"yes sir," san nods, jogging over to his teammate. he steals one last glance at you, and he swears the sunlight makes you glow.
-
san is exhausted after practice. he knew playing for this team would challenge him, but damn. he's sore and it's only the first day! he's still catching his breath as the team mills about around him, and yunho smirks as he alerts the boys to san's condition.
"i think we wore the superstar out," yunho laughs, and san throws one of his sweaty towels at him. yunho screams and tosses it back, but mingi jumps in to grab it. "what the hell are you doing?"
"this is a sweaty towel used by the choi san," mingi says with importance. "do you know how much i could sell this for?"
"guys, come on," san laughs, snatching the towel back. "i'm not a superstar."
"says the superstar," wooyoung mumbles, and san contemplates throwing the towel again but decides not to, mingi is still close by.
"no, we get it," hongjoong assures him. "just because the press is saying that doesn't mean it's true. you're a part of the team, so you're a team player, right san?"
"yes, exactly-"
"please, i hope everybody is decent!" a familiar voice shouts from the doorway, and san smiles when he finds you standing there. you've got your notebook over your eyes to hide any naked players, but a quick sweep tells san that everyone is dressed for the most part.
"wait, wait!" jongho shouts as he fights to put a clean shirt on. some of the boys chuckle at him while san says, "dude, she's probably seen a guy shirtless before."
"but she's a lady, san," jongho insists. "it's not polite. and i don't like to have my nips out when i'm giving quotes."
"that's why he's my favorite," you say, finally risking a peek. "all good?"
to be honest, san is a little shocked you're here. it's kind of odd for a reporter to be in the locker room after a regular practice, but he trusts this team and how they run things. most importantly, he trusts you. but his shock holds true as you greet the team while making your way straight toward him.
"aw, she's just here for superstar," mingi pouts, and you make him hush.
"i have to publish my story on him today and need to check quotes," you explain. "i'm coming for you next, mingi."
as mingi celebrates, you surprise san further by walking right up to him and taking the seat by his locker. you're flipping through your notebook as he watches you, and after a few seconds you look at him then pat the bench next to you.
"come on, get cozy," you tell him. "you spoke too fast yesterday and i didn't catch all of your answers."
"because you were too busy doodling?" san teases, taking a seat exceptionally close to you.
"that was after you," you explain, but san sees your ears turn red. "can you look through this and tell me if anything rings a bell?"
"y/n, you may be good at your job, but you have shit handwriting," san says after staring at the page long enough for your chicken scratch to make his head hurt. some of the boys near him laugh, and yunho pops his head in to take a look.
"oh yeah that's illegible," yunho confirms. "cute drawing of san, though."
"go away yunho."
"yes ma'am."
you're able to piece together what san said in the press conference, so once you're satisfied you take a moment to type up the changes into your phone. you send the story off to your editor, but then start working through who else you need to talk to today. san is watching all of this, and when your eyebrows furrow in concentration, he leans in.
"i know what you're thinking," he whispers, and you have to shake from your concentration to look him in his sneaky eyes.
"what?"
"i said i know what you're thinking," he repeats with a shrug. when you don't respond, he keeps going. "i bet you're wondering, hm, is san free tonight? well, i am."
"i can't use that for my story," you tell him, and he bumps his shoulder into yours.
"this is when you say if you're free."
"is it?" you ask, gathering your things so you can move on to the next player. "i'm not quite sure about that yet."
"whatever, doll," san smiles. "you know where to find me."
-
you did know where to find him. you knew he would be at the bar tonight. you knew he wasn't supposed to be there, and you knew you shouldn't go looking for him but you couldn't help yourself. after all, you've got to take yourself out for a drink - you filed your first story of the season today. you deserve to celebrate!
as soon as you walk in you can tell it's a mad house. the bar is packed, and it reminds you of how busy it gets after a game. you wonder if it's just preseason excitement that has so many people here, but you don't wonder long. you're here for a drink, so you squeeze between two guys at the bar and wave the bartender down. everyone here knows you, so you get to cut the line.
"hey y/n," he smiles as he walks up. "want your regular?"
"yeah, but top shelf tonight," you tell him. "finished my first story of the season today."
"is it any good? maybe i'll read this one," the bartender jokes as he gets to work.
"i didn't know you could read," you tease, and you smile when he tosses his head back in a laugh. the sound draws someone's attention, but you're too busy flirting with the bartender to notice.
"and to think i was gonna pay your tab myself," he shakes his head.
"put whatever she gets on mine," someone says at your side, and you physically jump when you recognize who it is.
"san?"
"told you to come find me, doll, why are you surprised i'm here?" he smirks. you can tell he's wearing league issued workout clothes, but to the regulars in the bar he's just some dude in sweats. he's got a ball cap pulled low over his eyes, and if he didn't have such striking features you'd say he was blending in pretty well. "i thought we were getting a drink together."
"are we?" you ask. "because i don't recall you actually asking me." san dips his head, knowing that you caught him in a lie.
"can i get whatever she's drinking?" san asks the bartender as he finally places your drink down, and your mouth hangs open in surprise.
"what's this sparkly shit for?" you ask, flicking at the gold pompom on the toothpick poking out of your cup. there's also swirls of gold in your drink, and the bartender shrugs.
"you said you were celebratin'," he explains. "wanted to make sure the drink rose to the occasion."
"well thank you," you say as you lift the drink to your lips, mostly to hide your blush. san is watching this interaction next to you, doing a horrible job of hiding his disgust.
"here's your drink man," the bartender says, plopping a cup down in front of san. "her's was on the house. i added yours to your tab."
"how generous," san smiles, tipping his cup toward the bartender as he walks away. san turns to you slowly, and says, "he's nice."
"you shouldn't be here."
"why, am i interrupting your date?" san quips.
"no," you roll your eyes. "you shouldn't be seen here. lots of fans, you'll probably get stopped for pictures, autographs, kissing babies..."
"they don't let babies into bars, y/n," san smirks at you. "but thanks for looking out for me."
"isn't against team rules for you to go out during the preseason anyway?" you ask, knowing full well it is.
"i don't like following rules," san shrugs.
"oh so that's why you've played for six different teams in five years?" it's your turn to quip, and san whistles.
"you got me there, ace," he sighs. "so what's this about you celebrating tonight?"
"that's nothing," you try to brush it off. "i sent in that story about you, remember? well, it got approved, so i have a tradition of taking myself out for a drink here when my first story of the season is filed."
"taking yourself out?" san shakes his head. "no, no no no. that won't do. i'm getting you another drink, unless your boyfriend tries to pay for it again, and then we're going out."
"you have to report to practice at 7am," you remind him, and he groans, dropping his head on your shoulder.
"you knowing everything about the team is totally ruining my game."
"aw, you did a fine job of that yourself," you coo, patting his cheek. you cup his chin and pull him back up, and you hide a smile when you notice the blush on his cheeks. "maybe you can owe me? take me out for real?"
"i'd like that," san nods.
"i knew you would," you tease, and san reaches an arm out to pull you into his side. he over calculates and accidentally smacks the guy behind you, who turns around in a drunken haze ready to fight.
"what the-" he starts, anger in his swimming eyes. when they land on san, you both see recognition take over his features in slow motion. "holy shit y'all! it's choi san!"
"come on," you grab san's arm, tugging him in the opposite direction. you think there's an entrance out the back, so hopefully the two of you can squeeze through the masses before too many people catch on. as you drag san behind you, you hear the bar goers talking about the star in their midst. some drunk lady grabs sans arm and won't let go, and he won't shake her off like you tell him to. you get caught, the exit you were hoping for just in the distance. people start crowding around san, trying to wedge between you, but he won't let go of your hand. he finishes signing a bar napkin for a guy who definitely used a fake to get in here, and then you're pulling san along again. the crowd is starting to push, and they're all drunk. and rowdy. and loud.
"aw, look, he's already got himself a bitch!" someone shouts, watching you cling onto san as you push him toward the exit. he stops cold, looking around for the drunken idiot. he reinforces his idiocy by stepping forward, slurring his words as he says, "didn't take you long, son-" *hiccup* "always got sluts lookin' for ya-" *hiccup* "she's a pretty one too-"
before you register what he's doing, san shakes you off of his arm. he steps closer to the man, and you feel yourself calling his name, but in the chaos even you can't hear yourself. san pulls his arm back and clocks the man in the face, splattering blood from his now probably broken nose.
"SAN!" you shout, yanking him back toward you. "let's GO."
adrenaline and shock give you the strength to drag a stunned san out of the bar, but it's so packed there were people in the alley already. they weren't aware of what went on inside, so you're able to tug san around the corner. you rush him toward the parking deck, and thank your lucky stars you moved your car from the employee lot earlier. you shove san into your passenger seat, slamming the door shut so you can rush to the driver's side. as you start the car, you look to the side and see san sinking further into the seat.
"i fucked up," he whispers. you hear a quiver in his voice, but you don't press him. "fuck. i'm gonna get kicked off the team. am i gonna get arrested?"
"you won't get kicked off the team," you tell him softly. "and i'll call the bartender in a minute, explain it to him. just pray that asshole you punched doesn't press charges."
"y/n, i'm so sorry," san says, looking to you with a scared look in his eyes. "i just. i couldn't let him talk to you like that."
"thank you san," you say sincerely. "let me see your hand."
"no, it's fine," he insists, but when you touch it he flinches.
"fuck san, how are you gonna play tomorrow?"
"i'm so losing my job," he shakes his head, sitting up like he's going to leave.
"whoa, where are you going?"
"i have to go apologize," he says, trying to open the door but struggling to do it with his hurt hand. "shit, i have to pay for our drinks, and my car! i need to-"
"san," you say sternly, and he looks to you again with those sad eyes. "i'll fix it. ok? do you trust me?"
"yes," he nods vigorously.
"good," you nod back. "can you buckle your seatbelt or do i have to do that too?"
"where are we going?" san asks after securing his seatbelt. it's a good thing he did, because you whip your car out of its spot so fast his body slams against the strap. "seriously road runner, where are you taking me?"
"we need to fix your hand," you tell him. "i live close by, so i'll fix you up and then in an hour or two i'll bring you back for your car."
"thank you," san says. "you're saving my ass."
"just be really good this season, ok?" you ask him. "it'd be fun to watch my team win for once."
"anything for you, ace."
-
a few minutes later, you've got a sheepish all-star perched on the edge of your tub as you stand over him and wipe the blood from his hand. you already sent a text to the bartender, so that's cleared up. apparently, san was doing everyone a favor by punching that guy. no one likes him, so san's not in any trouble with the bar. chances are the guy won't press charges either, he tends to start shit around town so the cops wouldn't necessarily be on his side.
the main issue now is the team. there's pictures and videos floating around, and you were right, san wasn't supposed to be out tonight. he's got a missed call from hongjoong already, and you're helping san figure out what to say to the coaches now.
"just own up to it," you tell him. "they'll appreciate the honesty. and tell them you beat that guy up because he was being mean to me, that'll help your case too."
"no," san shakes your head. "i'm not bringing you into this. i don't want to hurt your reputation."
"do it," you shrug. "i was there. i was part of it. if you don't tell them now, i will tomorrow when i do their preseason interviews."
"are you sure?"
"yep," you reply. "it'll help take some of the heat off of you. sources tell me not everyone is sold on you yet, but if they know you were defending my honor it'll get you some respect in the clubhouse."
"do you have blackmail on all these guys?" san jokes as he tries to focus on typing a text with one hand. you're done wiping the blood from his knuckles, and you've found a small cut on his hand that you need to cover. you step away for a second to bend down in front of your sink, searching through the cabinet below. san tries to hide that he's staring, but he does a poor job. he watches still as you stand up and tear open a bandaid, but he scoffs when he sees what's on it. "you are not making me wear a hello kitty bandaid."
"so you want to get infected?" you ask as you put the bandaid on him anyway. you trace your thumb over it softly, making sure it's laying flat, but you realize how tender this moment is. you're holding san's bruised hand in yours, standing so close to him that your legs are between his spread ones. you take a step back, but san uses his free hand to grab you by the waist.
"where you going, doll?" he whispers, looking up at you softly.
"you need an ice pack," you whisper back.
"you're not gonna kiss it to make it better?" he pouts, and you laugh to hide the way your heart skipped a beat.
"that doesn't work you know," you say as you bring his hand to your lips regardless. you place a delicate kiss to his soft skin, holding eye contact with him to watch his reaction.
"you're right, that didn't work," he sighs, and you start to let go. "maybe this will?" he asks, bringing you closer before cupping your face and pulling you down to his lips. he kisses you once, separating from you with a satisfied look on his face. "there. i'm all good now."
"nice," you squeak. "was this all an elaborate ploy to make me kiss you? because you could've just asked."
"really?" san asks gleefully. "will you kiss me?"
"just did."
"again," he pouts, and you lean down to kiss him quickly. he uses both his hands to hold you in place, his lips caressing yours as he lets out a quiet hum. he pulls back just to lean his forehead against yours and says, "yeah, that's got healing power baby."
"you still need ice," you tell him, stepping back before he can grab onto you again. "come on. maybe we can kiss some more in my kitchen?"
-
san ends up sleeping on your couch. he wouldn't let you leave after fixing up his hand, insisting that you've done enough for him tonight. he'll deal with his car in the morning. you tried giving him the bed, but it barely worked. he wouldn't even let you finish your sentence before he started covering his ears and shaking his head. you gave him an innocent kiss goodnight after setting him up with more pillows and blankets than one guy needs, and you both went to sleep.
except, he wasn't there when you got up. you set your alarm earlier than you planned, but even then you walk into your living room to find all the pillows stacked and blankets neatly folded. the only sign that san was here. well, that and the breakfast he ordered that waits for you on your kitchen table.
san had to be the first one at practice, so he couldn't wait for you to wake up. he also couldn't burden you more than he already has, so he woke before dawn and got to work. his hand feels fine, not great, but he thinks he can get through practice. he's rehearsed what he's going to say to the coaches, the team, the press, and he hopes it's enough.
-
most of your work for the day will take place in a smaller media room that's been set up for your one-on-one interviews with the coaching staff. that means you have no reason to linger outside the locker room, hoping to see san and check that he's ok. you distract yourself by going over the notes for the first interview, and before you know it, there's a knock at the door. it's the pitching coach, one of your favorite people on the team. he pokes his head in and smiles, so you welcome him as you dive into the same spiel you always do for these interviews. you're a pro, and the guys know what they're doing too, so it should be easy going. but as soon as you sit down to start, the coach stares at you with a look that's up to no good.
"so you were out with san last night," he states.
"i wasn't out with him," you explain. "we happened to be at the same bar."
"i heard he wrecked his hand defending you," the coach continues.
"he wrecked it?" you ask, more concern in your voice than you probably needed. "will he be able to play?"
"he'll play just fine," he nods. "don't you worry. we all heard what happened. shoot, some of the coaches and me were sending the videos back and forth last night. i tell you what, the boy's an idiot, but we've let men get by with worse. like i said, don't you worry."
"good," you breathe in relief. "then should we get started?"
-
it was a long day, after an incredibly long night, so when it's time for you to leave you're exhausted. you've been all over the place today, trying to keep up with your schedule, tracking people down for interviews, and you misplaced your notebook at least four times. you can't wait to get home, shower, and immediately go to sleep, but as you approach your car you realize you've lost your keys.
"shit," you hiss, dumping most of your bag out onto the hood of your car. you're mining through all your junk, wondering if it's too late to head back inside.
"hey," san says from behind you, and you jump.
"jesus!" you whip around to stare at him. "you scared me!"
"sorry ace," he smiles sheepishly. "thought you heard me coming."
"obviously not!" you screech, your heart still racing. "what's up?"
"looking for these?" he asks, dangling your keychain in front of you.
"oh my god you're a life saver," you sigh in relief, taking the keys from him gratefully. "how did you know these were mine?"
"i recognized them from last night," he shrugs. "and from the mascot keychain. i remember someone saying they had a childhood obsession with phil the bucket?"
"stop paying so much attention to me, could you?" you ask as you start shoveling your things back into your purse.
"here, let me help," san says as he joins you. he holds your purse open as you slide its contents back inside. "i owe you from last night, so consider this my starting point."
"the starting point?" you smile at him, and he nods.
"yep," he says nonchalantly. "first i found your keys, now the bag thing, and next, i don't know, maybe i take you to dinner?"
"hm, tonight?" you ask, and he nods again. "i have plans."
"then cancel them," san replies. you can tell he's joking by the glimmer of mischief in his eyes, but you know he really wants you to say yes.
"where would we go?"
"somewhere nice so i can spoil you," san says simply, closing your purse and walking to the driver's side of your car. "can i pick you up in thirty?"
"thirty minutes isn't enough time to get ready for a date, san," you frown.
"yeah, but any longer and i'll miss you too much," he pouts. you cup his chin and bring that pout to your lips, kissing him softly before you pull away.
"did that buy me another thirty?"
"twenty," he replies. "maybe twenty five if you promise to wear something sexy."
"deal."
-
as promised, san is outside your building exactly fifty five minutes later. you worried that not having his number and vice versa would make it hard to coordinate, but you're surprised when you check your phone and find that he texted you.
"i'm outside, ace," his text reads. no 'this is san' or anything to identify himself. you know it's him, so you tell him you're coming out.
you worry briefly you won't know which car is his, but as soon as you step outside you let out a soft laugh. of course he's got the most expensive car here, and of course he's leaned against the passenger door waiting for you. he lets out a low whistle as you approach, and you could act coy, but the reporter in you has to ask, "how'd you get my number, san?"
"i'm not giving up my source," he smiles smugly, opening the door for you. "you look incredible."
"it's nice seeing you in something other than baseball clothes for once," you reply. you take his hand and let him help you into the car, watching intently as he crosses the front to reach the driver's side. you're turned to him when he sits, and ask, "seriously. was it hongjoong? one of the coaches? you know they'll be on your ass if they find out you took me on a date."
"i'm not telling," san smirks again. "you gonna buckle your seatbelt or you need me to do it for you?"
"why, you a bad driver or something?" you tease.
"says the woman who gave me whiplash last night."
"i was trying to make a quick getaway before you got stormed by adoring fans again," you remind him.
"always looking out for me," he shakes his head. "i think someone has a crush." you don't respond, instead looking out the window to hide your smile. "you not saying anything isn't helping your case."
"no comment?" you reply, feeling proud at the blush on san's cheeks when you turn back to him. "so where's the superstar taking me?"
"san, the very nice young man you agreed to go out with, is taking you to one of his favorite restaurants," he replies.
"you've lived here like a week, how do you already have a favorite restaurant?"
"there was a place in one of the cities i used to play in, i went there every week," he explains as he drives. you catch yourself staring, but he doesn't seem to mind, so you continue. "the nicest staff. best food. always packed. then one day, it's gone. the owner and his wife moved so they could be closer to their daughter while she was at school, and they ended up here. he gave me a call as soon as my trade was final." you guess a couple places it could be, but they're all wrong. "so ms. know it all doesn't actually know it all?"
"don't call me that," you groan. "there's plenty i don't know."
"enlighten me, ace."
"i can't do math to save my life," you admit, and that gets a laugh out of san. "i don't know how to fold a fitted sheet. and don't tell anyone, but that new stat all the baseball pundits are talking about? it makes no sense to me."
"oh, that's easy," san says, and he falls into a comfortable conversation about baseball. you always wanted this from the guys you date, but despite your work, most guys assume that you don't know anything about sports because you're a woman. you're grateful that you don't feel that way around san, and you start to relax a little bit. you're not on a date with superstar outfielder choi san, you remind yourself. just san. just a, what did he say, a very nice young man?
that niceness continues when he parks his car, rushing to your door to get it for you. he takes your hand to help you out and doesn't let go as you walk in, and you're genuinely shocked that you haven't heard of this place before. it's fabulous, beautiful inside and out, and as soon as you walk in you're hearing san's name called. but this time it's not a fanatic, just a kind looking man and his wife.
"sannie!" she exclaims, pulling him into a soft hug. "oh, it's so nice to see you again. we were so happy when we heard you were coming here. i think it'll be good for you."
"me too," san agrees. he turns to the man then, the owner, and they exchange a manly handshake and similar pleasantries before he turns to you. "this is y/n, by the way. star reporter, loved by all-"
"and way out of your league," the owner winks at you. you feel yourself blush as san agrees, and then he's escorting you to your table. as you walk through the restaurant you notice it's surprisingly empty. didn't san say their last place was always full?
the owner helps you with your seat as his wife explains the specials, but you don't see a menu anywhere. you look at san quizzically and he gives you a look that says he'll explain shortly. after some more kindness, the owner and his wife are gone, and you get a chance to really take this place in.
"if you're wondering where the menu is," san starts, "they won't give us one. they never let me order when i come here, they just decide for me. and it's the best food i've ever had, each time."
"can't wait," you smile at him. "is this place as popular as their last one, you think?"
"i know it is," san nods. "that's why i booked it just for us."
"what?"
"i told them i was bringing a date and they offered to stay open late for us," he shrugs. "i hope that's not weird?"
"no," you reply. "i'm sure they're used to it by now."
"used to what?"
"you bringing dates here," you answer. "i can't be the only lucky lady you've done this with."
"well consider yourself lucky, ace," he says. "you're different."
"like can't be seen in public with me different?" you tease. "san, i'm flattered."
"no ace," he laughs. "i wanted this to be special, but if you want a crowd i can call the team-"
"no," you cut him off, grabbing his hand that's laid out on the table. "i like this. it's nice."
"told you i was gonna spoil you, doll," san smiles. "get used to it."
"should i?" you challenge, but san just continues smiling as a waiter brings by your drinks. you feel your walls falling more and more as the night goes on, as you and san eat some of the best food you've ever had. he's fun to be around, you think. maybe you'll give him more of a chance than you were expecting.
"so. i have a question," san says after the plates from your meal are cleared. you're waiting for dessert, but you're not sure you can eat much more.
"shoot," you tell him. "i ask you plenty, so ask away."
"in the locker room, yesterday i think? you said jongho was your favorite," he finishes with a pout.
"that's not a question," you laugh. "you'd be a shitty reporter."
"compared to you, everyone is," san replies. "but i meant, why is he your favorite? were you serious or just joking?"
"if i had to pick a favorite," you start, "i think it would be jongho. i've always liked catchers, so that works in his favor. he's fun to watch, and a lot of fun to work with."
"you have a thing for catchers?" san teases. "why?"
"not a thing," you say, wishing you could kick him underneath the table. "but maybe? i don't know. catchers do have really nice thighs."
"and outfielders?" san tries.
"never stood out to me," you reply. "it's either catchers or third basemen." you start to explain how your favorite player of all time, the one who got you into baseball, played third base, and you don't worry about sounding too much like a fangirl. you admit to the jerseys, the baseball card collection, all of it, and when you finish you look up to find san watching you with an amused look on his face. "what? too much?"
"no," he shakes his head. "i'm just thinking how good you'd look in one of my jerseys."
"try playing third," you tease. "maybe i'll buy one."
dessert comes then, and your focus turns to the amazing food again. maybe it was just you, but you felt a sort of...tension when you were talking just now. you weren't planning on sleeping with san, really ever, but that look in his eyes when he thought about you in his jersey, maybe the date won't end here.
after another visit from the owner and his wife, and plenty of take out to last you a few days, you're walking back to san's car. there's a chill in the air, so you gravitate to him for warmth. his arm circles around your waist, pulling you to his side, and he squeezes your hip. you feel goosebumps erupt on your skin, and you wonder again where the night might be going.
ever the gentleman, san helps you back into your seat and places your food carefully in the back. you're looking at him now in a new light, imagining how his hands would feel on your hips without a layer of clothes separating your skin from his. you're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't notice san has taken his seat, or that he said something to you. you ask him to repeat it, and he has a happy look on his face as he says, "thanks for going out with me, doll."
"thanks for asking," you reply. "i had a great time."
"good," he nods with finality, starting the car without another word. he doesn't even look at you again until he gets close to your building, and all those thoughts of what would happen next have left your mind. whatever vibe you caught from him in the restaurant was gone, he obviously wasn't planning on coming up to your apartment after this. your suspicions were confirmed when he pulls up to your door, turning to you with that same sappy look. "i had a great time tonight, y/n. thank you."
"yeah, sure," you mewl, gathering your things. "um, the food-"
"take all of it," san insists, twisting back to grab the bags. "this isn't exactly on my in-season diet, so i'm not sure how much i could sneak before the dietician clocks me for it."
"right, thanks," you nod, laden down with bags as you struggle to open your door. "well, thanks."
"you said that already ace."
"right," you repeat. "um, so, see you at work i guess?"
"looking forward to it," he smiles softly. "text me when you get in?"
"right," you say again, stepping out of his car without looking back.
-
the season starts shortly after your date with san, so you're too busy with work to think about it.
except that's a lie, you can't stop thinking about it. how could san be so flirty, act so into you, and then end the night without so much as a kiss goodbye? you don't want it to, but it's bothering you.
you don't have a reason to see him, at work or otherwise, until the first day of the season. you're set up in the dock next to the home dugout so you can get updates or a quick interview for the broadcast. you see san for the first time in days then, sitting there with your notebook and a headset, as he takes the field for warmups. it might be your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear san looks for you as he waits for seonghwa. as soon as his eyes find yours he turns around, jogging to the outfield after. you shake it off and get to work, checking your notes to make sure you've got the info right for the game. san will be the leadoff hitter, and you feel a pit of excitement in your stomach at the thought of watching him play. just from watching him in practice you know he's good, but he's electric when there's a real win on the line. still, you don't let your thoughts linger on him too long. you've got a job to do.
the game runs like clockwork, and the team easily knocks down three outs to switch sides. you don't look up when they walk to the dugout, afraid of catching san's eyes again. you don't look up until you hear the announcer call san's name, watching his back as he walks to the plate. through your headset, you can hear the commentators upstairs in the press box listing off his accomplishments at past teams, painting him in this otherworldly light. he's a superstar for a reason, his stats show that, and the way they're talking about him upstairs shows that everyone is captivated by him.
the pitcher, not intimidated by the silver slugger he's facing, sets up his first pitch. it's a curveball, somewhere in the 80 mph range, and it looks like it's gonna be a ball. but san is confident, his stance strong, his shoulders poised just so, and you watch in amazement as he rears back and completely shreds it. the ball is gone before anyone knows what's happening, and your eyes stay locked on san as he rounds the bases. when he approaches first, he looks directly at you, pointing in your direction as he turns at the bag. your heart is racing, you notice, and you shake off your surprise so you can describe the hit in your already cramped notes.
the rest of the game is exciting, but nothing matches san's leadoff homer. you could tell that lit the team up, an enthusiasm in every at bat, every play. your team wins, by a lot, and you go through the motions of finding players and coaches to interview for the post-game show as fans file out and the grounds crew comes in. the one person you're hoping to snag is nowhere to be seen, though.
by the time you're done with your work on the field, the post-game conference is already over. you're not sure if san gave a quote there and that's why you missed him on the field, but you don't care. the team won't mind, so you make your way to the locker room to find the man who's been running laps through your head all day.
san knows as soon as you enter the locker room that you're looking for him. he's showered and dressed in his outside clothes, his jersey neatly folded on the bench beside him as you approach.
"hey ace," he greets you. "some game huh?"
"it was good," you nod. "nice hit."
"glad you liked it," he replies cockily. "did it for you."
"can i quote you on that?" you ask, and san chuckles.
"come on doll, why the cold shoulder? i did what you asked, i helped your team win. figured that would get me on your good side."
"i just need a quote about that hit," you stand your ground. "i'm risking my innocence the longer i stay here, so if you could just say something arrogant on the record, i'll be on my way."
san can tell something is up, so he returns your formality with some of his own. you're in and out in less than five minutes, heading to the press room to collect your thoughts before you shoot your editor a text about your incoming story. as you stand there typing, you hear someone come up behind you so you start walking toward the exit.
"y/n, wait," san calls, and you want to walk faster. you want to leave and not look back, but he adds a quiet, "please." and you take a deep breath before you turn.
"what's up?" you ask. "i've got a deadline."
"you left this," san says simply, offering you the folded jersey from his locker. "i...whatever. it was my jersey from this game. i want you to have it."
"what?" you're shocked, aware of how much it costs for a player to give away a game worn jersey. it may not be much to san in the long run, but still. it softens your heart and you take it wordlessly, searching for something to say in thanks.
"well," san sighs. "see you tomorrow."
"san, wait!" you call before he can get too far. he looks back at you hopefully, and you jog to catch up with him. "why..." as you trail off, you look up to him and find an unreadable look on his face. "sorry for being a dick earlier, i just-"
"no worries," he shakes his head. "i get it, the season changes things, so-"
"did you take me out the other night to pay me back for helping you at the bar?" you ask what you've been wondering for a few days now. "because, i don't know. i thought we...or i, um, i felt...something. and when you dropped me off, it was like you changed."
"changed how?"
"before that, i thought you were into me," you try to say nonchalantly. "but after..."
"you think i'm not into you now?" he asks sadly, and you nod. "check your facts, ace. i think it's the opposite."
"well i wasn't sure-"
"you want me to prove it?" san asks, taking a step closer to you. "or you got a story you need to get back to?"
"i have time," you whisper, looking in his eyes. they're darker, more serious, a little hooded. that tension you felt the other night is back, and it takes your breath away briefly.
"come with me," san's tugging your hand, dragging you along behind him as he leads you outside. a quick scan of the parking lot tells him you're alone, so he rushes you to his car. again, he helps you in, rushing to toss his things in the back. you're sitting there, his jersey gripped in one hand and your notebook in the other. when he opens his door, you mumble something about your stuff, but he cuts you off. "you can get it tomorrow, ace. i'm taking you home now."
"but my keys-"
"i'm taking you to my place," he cuts you off again, looking to you as he starts the car. "there a problem?
"no," you reply meekly, and san is satisfied. he drives like a madman to his place, not far from the stadium. he parks in the deck below, bringing you with him to an elevator close by. he punches the button to his floor before he pounces, cupping your face to crash his lips into yours.
"can't believe you thought i didn't want you," he grumbles, dragging his hands to your neck, down your arms, to grip your waist. "ridiculous." he kisses you again, pulling you by the waist out of the elevator into his hallway. he only detaches from you to find his keys, hands steady as he undoes the lock. he pulls you inside and doesn't give you a chance to look around, capturing your lips in a kiss again. you finally drop your stupid notebook, embarrassed that you've been holding onto it this whole time. you start to let go of his jersey too, but he stops you. "what are you doing, ace? told you i've been thinking about you wearing my jersey."
"what-"
"put it on, baby," he coaxes you, his hands guiding yours. "let's get you out of this librarian dress and into something a little sexier."
"san, slow down," you say breathlessly, following him into his apartment. he collapses on the couch, watching you with that same fire in his eyes from earlier. "what now?"
"change," he replies. "put the jersey on."
"not fair," you pout. "i'm gonna be naked and i don't even get to see you shirtless?"
san tears his shirt off in record time, sitting back with a challenging look on his face.
"your turn, doll."
with shaky hands, you undo the zipper to your dress, letting it fall as san lets out a hiss of air. you slide your arms into the jersey, amazed that it still smells like his cologne after a game in the sun. you kind of flop your arms out after that, like a 'what now?' and san pats his thigh.
"sit," he commands.
"what?"
"you ask a lot of questions."
"it's my job," you quip back, and san lets his head fall back in a laugh.
"you said you had a thing for thighs, baby. figured you'd be jumping at the chance to ride mine."
spurred on by adrenaline and the growing pit of excitement in your stomach, you do as he says, straddling his thigh as you drape your arms over his broad shoulders.
"what now?" you whisper into his ear, nipping just beneath it to drive him insane. his hands return to your waist, and whispering into your ear, he says, "ride me, doll."
you grind against his thigh, sucking in a breath at the friction. you take it at your own pace, going slow so you don't overwhelm your senses. san's warm skin under your hands, his scent surrounding you, it's intoxicating. you let your hips move on their own accord, picking up speed as the pressure in your core builds. you let out a breathy moan when he bounces his leg, and his grip on your waist tightens.
"how's it feel, baby?" he asks, watching you intently.
"good, san, feels good."
"then go faster," he smirks. "might feel even better." you do, gasping as a hand leaves your waist to trace over your bra. his hand dips beneath the fabric, pulling a breast free before moving to the next cup to do the same. both of his hands find your chest, tweaking your nipples as he watches you unravel above him. "how's it feel now?"
"i'm close," you whine, hips jerking as your core gets too sensitive. you try to stand, to move things along, but san grabs onto your ass and guides you against his thigh.
"if you're close then why are you running away?" he chuckles. "show me how good it feels, ace."
"fuck," you whisper, grinding against him harder. "i'm almost there, but i-i can't, san, need more. need your fingers."
"you do?" he pouts. "i don't think you've earned it."
"i have," you whine, squeezing his thigh between yours. "fuck. if you don't do it i will."
"show me," he challenges, and you stand before he can stop you. you take your panties off, tossing them somewhere before sitting back down on his thigh. you cry out at the new contact, your arousal ruining his pants. you look down and see just how much you're dripping onto his leg, moaning as san guides you faster. you pop two fingers into your mouth and then reach down to rub your clit, crying out as you come.
"fuck, san," you moan, hips sputtering over him as you chase your high. "jesus." you let your head fall to his shoulder, your hand stilling at your core as you catch your breath.
"so dirty, baby," he whispers, brushing your hair away from your neck to trail kisses across your skin. his jersey has fallen from your shoulder, so he takes his time leaving a mark on the exposed skin as you come down. "you look real good in my jersey, making yourself feel good like that."
"what now?" you ask again, nipping at his ear.
"you ready so soon?" he asks. "so eager."
"i'm afraid you're gonna come in your pants," you whisper in his ear. "don't wanna ruin the fun before it even starts."
you shriek then, feeling san lift you like it's nothing. he kicks his bedroom door open before dropping you on the bed, taking a minute to admire you splayed out on his sheets as he undoes his pants. you're still breathless, watching him undress, and you feel your breath catch when he pulls his cock free.
"what, don't think you can handle it?" san asks, tearing a condom packet open with his teeth. "gotta say, i'd be disappointed."
"try me."
san crawls over you next, trapping your hands in his as he drags them above your head. he holds them in place as he guides his cock to your core, slapping it against your clit teasingly. you moan, hips bucking to chase the feeling. he keeps teasing you though, coating his cock in your arousal.
"so wet for me, baby," he groans. "are you like this when i play?"
"no," you grit your teeth. "san, please-"
"please what, baby?" he asks, stopping completely. his tip is pressed to your entrance, but he's not moving, and you squirm beneath him. "use your words, pretty girl. you get this wet when you see me?"
"when i think about fucking you, yeah," you respond honestly.
"and how often is that? just ballpark."
"sometimes."
"every day?" he asks, pressing his tip past your walls. he won't give you more than that, so you whimper, and he smirks. "tell me."
"since we kissed," you admit, wishing you could hide your blushing cheeks.
"aw, baby's been desperate that long?" he tsks. "i'm sorry, doll. didn't know you wanted me that bad."
"just fuck me, san."
"ask me."
"huh?"
"ask me how often i think about fucking you," he replies with a shit eating grin.
"how often?"
he thrusts into you, pulling a moan from deep within your chest. he leans down and kisses you, biting your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. then he whispers, thrusting with each word, "every single day."
he keeps thrusting into you, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. you moan into his mouth, whining his name, and you twist away long enough to ask, "let go of my hands. wanna touch you."
he lets you go, and your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. he groans, egging you on, and you drag your nails down his back as you say, "your shoulders."
"what?"
"your shoulders. they drive me insane," you admit. "catchers have nice thighs, sure, but, fuck, you're built like a god."
"a god?" he smiles, and you can tell you're gonna regret saying that. "what else drives you insane?"
"hm, everything about you?" you reply. "you're infuriating."
"and you're close already," he smirks. "i can feel you clenching around me, baby. this feels good too?"
"so good," you nod. "can i come?"
"wait," he hisses, pulling out as you whine. "patience, baby. wanna try something else."
you let san move you how he wants, sitting up further on his bed as he props your legs open. he slides his hands beneath your legs, almost folding you in half as he cups your head. he moves you so you can see your dripping pussy, shining in the low light of his room.
"help me out, ace," he says, and with shaky hands you guide him back to your entrance. he thrusts, both of you watching as he enters you, and you moan in sync as he thrusts all the way in. he stills for a moment, loving the way you clench around him, and he speeds up, fucking you so fast you can't catch your breath. "shit. look at you, taking me so well."
"can i come now?" you whine, but he shakes his head again. "san!"
"wait for me, baby," he insists, thrusting faster. you can barely take it, but then his hips jerk, and you know he's close. "now, come on my cock, fuck-"
"san, oh my god," you cry out, bucking forward until your forehead is pressed against his, watching as you come around him. you feel him come with you, and you stay trapped in his hold as he slows down. he kisses you softly before he lets go, his hands carding through your hair as he helps you lay down.
"be right back," he whispers, kissing your forehead before he disappears. he comes back with water and a wet washcloth, handing you the cool glass as he cleans you up. you hand it back to him when he's done so he can take a sip, and then he leaves again to toss the condom. he collapses back into bed when he returns, immediately pulling you into his chest as he nuzzles his head into your neck. "can't believe you'd think i didn't want you, doll."
"this might be the first time anyone's proved me wrong," you tease, yelping when you feel him bite your skin. "mean!" he moves to lay his chin on your chest, looking up at you with warmth in his eyes. you brush some of his sweaty hair from his forehead as he speaks.
"do you wanna stay the night?" he asks. "please say yes. but if you don't want to, give me a minute and i can drive you home. but i really want you to stay."
"i'll stay," you nod, cupping his cheek as you stare at him. "you're really handsome, you know?"
"am i?" he smiles. "tell me more."
"that's all you get," you say as you flick his nose, and he scoots up the bed to lay his head next to yours. you're both quiet for a minute, thoughts flooding your head. you don't realize you're frowning until san whines.
"what's that face for?" he pouts, propping himself up on his arm as he stares down at you. "you want to go home."
"no, i'm just thinking," you pout back.
"about?"
"what will the team say if they see our walk of shame?"
"about time," he replies, kissing you before he lays back down. "i talk about you all the time, so i'm sure they'll be thrilled to know i finally got some."
"you're sick," you giggle, pinching him. "but maybe you should go in first. just to be safe."
"whatever you want ace," he hums, looking at you again. "you gonna sleep in my jersey, or can i give you another shirt to wear?"
-
despite your exhaustion from your night with san, you still had a story to write. it wasn't yet midnight, so after san gave you a shirt to sleep in you stayed up, furiously typing on your phone to get the story done in time. you thought san had fallen asleep beside you, his quiet breathing providing a sort of metronome to keep you focused. but as you got to a certain point in your story, you realized you need your notebook. you can't remember where it might be, so you try to quietly slip out of bed and go looking.
"come back to bed," san grumbles, making you jump.
"i thought you were asleep," you whisper, looking at him from the doorway. the sheets have pooled around his waist, and his chest is flushed. you wish you could just lay down with him, rest your head on his warm chest, and fall into the deepest sleep. but you've never filed a story late, and you're not interested in doing so tonight.
"i'm not going to sleep till you do," he answers, rubbing his eyes. he pulls the sheets away and slides out of bed himself, shuffling toward the door after you.
"what are you doing?" you ask, taking a step back.
"if you leave me alone in here i might die," he says seriously. "you looking for your notebook? i put it on my coffee table," he explains, placing his hand at the small of your back while he guides you through his apartment. you barely have a second to grab it from the table before san is pulling you down onto the couch with him, locking you in his hold on his lap.
"um, san?" you ask. "i need my arms." he groans as he loosens his grip, and you try to scoot over to take up the ample space left on the couch.
"uh uh," he shakes his head, looking at you with sleepy eyes. "you're staying right here until you finish."
"but you'll distract me," you pout, which san tries to kiss away.
"distract you, or motivate you to hurry up so we can go to sleep?"
"fine," you sigh, getting comfortable in his lap as you prop your notebook open on his chest. "keep that there for me."
"yes ma'am," he mumbles, closing his eyes as you work. you flip through a few pages and find what you were looking for, trying to concentrate on transcribing the quote, but it's hard. you're not comfortable, so you keep shifting. san's hands tighten around you, but you ignore it. just a few more minutes and you'll be done, but damn, is your leg cramping? you try to move again, but end up yelping when you feel san pinch your thighs. "baby," he whines. "stop moving. i'm getting hard."
"jesus, really?" you ask, shifting again to see for yourself. "oh hello there."
"stop," san chuckles, looking at you with hooded eyes. "are you almost done?"
"i've got a few more sentences, then i need to proofread it," you reply. "so kinda."
"alright," he nods. "keep working, ace." so you do, reading back a few lines to catch your train of thought. you frown though, feeling san's hands trail up your thighs to play with the material of your panties.
"san, stop," you tell him. "you're being a distraction."
"ah, no i'm not," he says, cupping you in his hold as he sits forward. he fidgets with something for a minute before resting back against the cushions, and you gasp when you feel his cock against you. "i'm motivating you, remember?"
"san, what are you doing-"
"just keep working baby," he coos, pulling your panties to the side before sliding his cock through your folds. "want you to sit on it until you finish."
"funny," you twist his nipple, and he hisses.
"ah, no pun intended," he smiles, "but happy coincidence. come on, i'm bored, and if i don't do this i'll fall asleep."
"then sleep! i won't be able to focus with you...in me."
"try," san kisses you, sitting back with a smirk. "i believe in you baby. now keep working."
you look at the time and groan, because you don't have time to argue with him. you watch as he lifts your hips and sinks into you, letting out a shaky breath once your hips are slotted against his. he keeps his eyes on you, taking in every wince, every jolt, every bite of your lip to stop from whimpering. you feel so full, and san is so warm, and you can't focus but you're almost done-
"read the story to me," san says next, breaking through your thoughts once again.
"hold on," you say, completing the final sentence before you scroll back to the top. "on the record i think you're insane."
"that's a weird way to start an article about baseball," san smirks, so you roll your hips to get him to shut up. you start reading your story, and he listens like he's hooked on every word. at the first mention of his name, he lifts you up slightly before bringing your hips back down and you stutter on your words. "come on ace, keep reading."
"fuck you," you breathe out.
"you are," he smirks again, and you grit your teeth as you continue. you speed through the story, but san keeps slowly fucking you as you go. you find a typo and he stills while you fix it, but as you get to the end he picks up speed. when you finally read the last word, you place a hand on his chest and he stops again.
"let me send this to my editor, please, and then you can keep defiling me," you beg.
"i learn so many new words being around you," san jokes, but you're not listening. you manage to send the story at 11:59 exactly, and you toss your phone away before grabbing onto san's shoulders.
"you need a hobby or something," you get out between moans as he starts fucking you again. "fuck. feel so full, san."
"yeah?" he sighs. "you feel incredible. so tight, so warm for me."
"shit, you're not wearing a condom," you realize. "get out."
"hold on," he whines. "i'll pull out. just give me a minute. are you close?"
"very confident in your skills," you point out. "we haven't been fucking that long."
"but i can feel you dripping around me," he says, pinching your hips. "feel you squeezing me. i know you're loving this baby."
"i'm almost there," you fess up, rolling your hips against him to get some more friction. he brings a hand around to your core, his thumb tracing over your clit so teasingly it's driving you insane. you collapse in his hold, your head resting against his shoulder as you let out breathy moans. he slows down, just to tease you more, and you bite his shoulder.
"ow!"
"keep going," you groan against his skin. "gonna come, fuck-" and you feel your high crash into you, hips jerking against san's as you come. you're quick to hop off of him, which he protests, but you sit before him on your knees as you stroke his cock. he's got to be close, so you bring his tip to your lips to suck him into your mouth. he lets go almost immediately, gasping above you as he comes into your mouth. as soon as he's done, he pulls you off of him with a huff.
"show me, doll," he rasps, and you stick your tongue out to show him his release. you swallow most of it, some drips sneaking past your lips so you sit up and wipe them off on the edge of his boxers, still caught around his knees. "hey!"
"you can deal," you tell him, standing with his help. your legs are shaky, and the exhaustion is really hitting you now. "come on, let's go to bed before you keep us up all night."
-
for the next week or so, you and san fall into a habit of going home with each other after each game. the first two series of the season are at home, so it makes things easy for you. you don't have to talk about what you are to san or vice versa, it's just understood that any free time you have will be spent with each other.
you're getting nervous, though, because the first away series is this weekend. you're strictly a local reporter, so you don't travel with the team. you'll report solely based on what the broadcast team on site is saying, or by bugging the team with phone calls. a little piece of you is nervous that san will fall back into his superstar ways, because he did have a reputation before coming here for having...friends...in every city. you try to push that feeling away for now, but it keeps nagging you at the worst times.
like now, san has cornered you in the clubhouse, kissing you in between questions for your next story and all you can think about is the trip this weekend. you're trying to focus on the story, really. the team is on an unbeaten streak, and some of the guys have cited san as the reason for that. word around the team is that his energy and passion for the game has made them better. you're trying to get something heartfelt out of him, but he's distracted.
"baby, i'm doing some of my best work here," he mumbles against your lips. "can't the questions wait?"
"i'm on a deadline san, you know that," you say as you put your hand on his chest and push back. "two more questions, and then i'm all yours."
"fine," he sighs, taking a step back. his hands stay on your waist as you talk, his thumbs rubbing your skin beneath your shirt. you're able to get what you need, so you stop the recording on your phone and put it away.
"you know, if anyone ever hears those, i'd be fired," you tell him as you drape your arms over his shoulders.
"good thing i'm loaded," san smirks. "i can buy their silence and you can keep your job."
"you know i used to be a clean reporter?" you pinch his neck. "you're really blurring my ethical lines here."
"i won't tell if you don't," he whispers, kissing you again. you stay like that, lips locked together, until a buzzing in san's pocket interrupts you. "ah, i should get that."
"who's calling? you don't have friends," you tease him, your uneasy mind wondering if it's one of his usuals from out of state.
"it's the equipment team," he explains, "they've never packed my stuff for an away trip before so they want to confirm before they ship out."
san answers the call, but keeps a protective arm hooked around you so you can't leave. you distract yourself with a stray thread on his shirt as he talks, and when he hangs up he places his hand over yours.
"whatcha thinking about, ace?"
"when do you leave for the series this weekend?" you ask nonchalantly, avoiding his gaze.
"day after tomorrow," he replies. "i figured we'd get an off day here, but they want us to come in for an extra practice to stay sharp."
"gotta keep that win streak going on the road," you tell him. "like you promised."
"exactly," he smiles. "so when will you leave?"
"huh?"
"for the series," san asks in an equally confused tone. "you're coming with us, right?"
"i don't travel with the team," you shake your head. "so i'll be here, wasting away."
"aw, you're gonna miss me," san coos, pulling you into his side as he walks you down the hall. "guess i gotta fit in as much y/n time as i can before i go."
"seems like it," you give him a tightlipped smile before pulling away. "i gotta go back out to the field, i'm doing a report in a few minutes. so i'll text you when i'm done?"
"sure," he nods, kissing your forehead before you go.
-
you went back to your apartment at the end of the day, tired and mind racing. you're not even dating san, why are you so concerned about what he might get up to on this road trip? you try to busy yourself until san comes by with dinner, so you're in the middle of washing dishes when there's a knock at your door. you let san in, stepping to the side in your small entryway to let him through. it leaves him standing incredibly close to you as you close the door, but once the space is cleared he stays where he is.
"you can come in, weirdo," you laugh. "do you need me to move?"
"no hug? no kiss?" he complains, pouting his lips as if waiting for a smooch.
"my hands are wet," you say as you hold them up, "so no hug, but-" you stand on your toes and aim a kiss perfectly on top of lips, spinning around quickly after to go back to the kitchen. "put everything on the coffee table, i'll get plates."
you walk into your living room to find a feast laid out for you. how'd you miss san carrying in so much food? you place plates down for you both, sitting next to san so your thighs touch. he piles food on your plate as you tell him about the rest of your day, but when he keeps going you make him stop.
"do you think i never eat?" you laugh. "why the mountain of food?"
"i'll be out of town for a while," he shrugs. "gotta make sure you're taken care of before i go."
"right," you nod. "thank you, but this is plenty."
"want me to feed it to you?" he asks with a sappy look on his face, but you know he's serious.
"i'll kick you out if you even try."
"then what about you feeding me?"
"are you excited for the first road trip of the year?" you change the subject.
"i am," he says slowly. "not much to see there, though, so it'll be a boring trip. especially if you're not coming..."
"can't," you remind him. "the big man won't allow it."
"but let's say, i don't know, a player on the team had an extra ticket to the game...then what?"
"huh?" you look at him confused. "what are you saying?"
"if i told you i got you a ticket to the game, would you come?" he asks sincerely. he grabs your hand and squeezes, saying, "i need my good luck charm there."
"san, i don't know," you shake your head. "how would i get there? where would i stay?"
"you could travel with the other wives and girlfriends," he answers. "apparently it's a whole big trip, they do this every year for the first away series."
"but i'm not a wife or a girlfriend," you tell him. "i'm a reporter."
"then why don't you leave the notebook at home and just come to the game as my girlfriend?"
"your girlfriend?" you smile. "i think i can do that."
800 notes · View notes
hanjisungsbiwife · 4 months
Text
periods w/jongho
words - 🧍🏻‍♀️
genre - fluff
warnings - periods, cringe nicknames, jongho being a hopeless romantic
i’m on my period so i’m sappy and have decided to pause writing my other wip’s for today because i’m emo and in pain :D
i’m thinking about being on your period around bf!jongho
that man takes boyfriend duty so seriously anyway, but when you’re in pain?
just you wait…
it doesn’t matter how busy he supposedly is, he’ll drop everything just to he can lie in bed with you and make sure you’re doing alright.
he makes sure that he’s the big spoon, just because it makes him feel better to be in a more protective position when you’re hurting
and providing you’ll allow it, he’ll want skin to skin contact too
he says it’s so he can share his warmth with you, but you know it’s just because he likes to feel close to you… he’s just using your period as an excuse
he’ll definitely wrap his strong arms around you and lay his hands flat against your stomach
i feel like jongho runs hot anyway, so he’d just be like a huge, sentient hot water bottle
props your laptop in front of your face so the two of you can watch video essays on topics that neither of you have an interest in just because it’s fun
and while your attention is on the screen, his hands are rubbing circles into your stomach, massaging your flesh gently to try and help with the cramps
uses all the horribly cringey nicknames he can think of, just because you know it’ll make you smile
(also because it’s the only time you’ll let him use them and he really, really, wants to use them)
“how are you feeling, my little bear cub?” and “does my pumpkin pie need me to do anything?”
you think he’s joking with the nicknames… he isn’t
and let’s say you do need something, food, painkillers, a warm cup of tea
this man will jump at the opportunity to help you
runs off only to return inhumanly fast with exactly what you asked for in hand
little do you know he’s actually sprinting around to house to retrieve what you ask for just so he can get back in bed with you asap…
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hanjisungsbiwife · 5 months
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MY SPIDEY HAN HEART AHSBSBSVHSBD
SPIDER WEB 🫀
Ve’s note - think it’s time i come clean . yes i am a peter han enthusiast . he’s the most peter parker spider man to ever exist . so here a drabble . i like this concept a lot so i might expand on it . no warnings sfw . angst/ comfort . drunk again so this is barely proofread . i hope you enjoy and happy holidays !!
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with power comes responsibility . that’s what jisung kept reminding himself . he tried his best to stick to the teachings aunt may taught him . he tried his best and never forgot where he came from . so why did he always happen to fall short ? why wasn’t he good enough ? why couldn’t he keep you ? why couldn’t he do it all ?
so many questions run through his head as he watched you from your window . perched upside down on the building across from you . it was a nightly routine for him ever since he let you go . he watched as you took your shirt off . eyes lingering on your body . a body be once could hold against his own . your fingers run through your hair as you brushed it . a quiet smile on your face as you laughed at the messy state it was in . but to jisung it was perfect . you were perfect . you were his everything .
you pick up a picture on your nightstand . it was an old photo of you and him . in it your smiles were genuine and happy . he wasn’t that jisung anymore . he was spider-man .
his mind flies back to your last night together . bodies thrown together in passion just for him to have to leave before daylight . leaving you alone to wake up to a cold and empty bed . with new threats and new villains popping up everyday he couldn’t bare the thought of losing anyone else because of his mistakes . so he left . he watched was you cried nights on end . he watched as you picked yourself back up . he watched as you moved on . jisung was happy for you truly . you were safe . you were protected . no one can harm you . not even himself .
jisung watched as you tuck yourself into bed . attending your arm to cut your bedside lamp off . signaling you turning in for the hubby . he knew you wouldn’t actually sleep . preferring to stare at the ceiling . still not used to sleeping alone . he hoped one day you would find someone else to keep your bed warm . someone safer than him .
a local police scanner alerted him to a robbery in progress two streets over . sighing as he pulled his mask down , sparing you one last glance . a hero’s job is never done .
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hanjisungsbiwife · 5 months
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OH MY GOD?!?!
This was the perfect t amount of sweet and caring and sexy and I need me a San 😭😭😭
what lies beneath us. - c. san (m)
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➼ genre; fluff, smut, slight angst for the first half but i make it better quickly promise ➼ pairing; san x afab!reader ➼ au; established relationship, college au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 6.4k
one busy semester is all it took for you and san to find yourselves struggling to find footing in the storm that is your relationship, yet rather than let go, he asked for one more week, one more day, one last chance to help get you back to shore
part of the ...and it's snowing collab.
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➼ smut warnings; unprotected sex, oral: m, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, service-top san, san has some slightly submissive tendencies, coming inside
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You normally wouldn’t find yourself in Wooyoung’s apartment on a Tuesday morning, sitting at the bar counter beside his roommate with two mugs of coffee sitting on the granite between you, but you also haven’t had any leisure time to waste lately. It’s a miracle that Wooyoung is even up before ten o’clock, though that might be in part due to you pleading desperately over the phone to come over.
“Oh, you make her coffee but not me? The fuck is up with that, Hwa?” Speak of the devil, Wooyoung comes into the kitchen still rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“She’s a guest, you live here. And I had to wake you up because you slept through three alarms so my sympathy levels are close to zero right now.” Seonghwa flashes a faux shrug despite the heated glare he’s sent. Wooyoung lets out a huff but lets it go in favor of redirecting his attention to you.
“Right, well, what did you need to talk about so badly that it couldn’t wait until the afternoon?”
“San is coming over tonight, I couldn't do the afternoon,” you mumble.
“Is it about him then? Did something—” he waves a hand through the air like that’ll explain his thoughts, and when confusion shows on both your face and Seonghwa’s, he gives up “—did something happen between you guys?”
“It feels a bit awkward,” you admit over the rim of your coffee mug. Wooyoung scoffs at that, but Seonghwa is far more forgiving than your best friend in that he sends you a sympathetic grin. 
“Awkward?” he prompts, toying with his own drink. Wooyoung pushes away from the counter and turns to the coffee maker.
“I don't know. Yeah, awkward, a bit. I guess. Like we don't know what we're doing or how to be in a relationship anymore.”
The brutal semester you both just suffered has been the main factor in the wedge in your relationship. Weekends full of studying, ones that you spent together at the start of the semester when he would come to your place or vice versa so that you could be together even while working. Then, San started picking up more shifts at his part-time job, and you had to redirect your focus to a particularly important internship that required you to forgo those weekends in the blink of an eye. You did have two weekends free of school and work, but San had to rush home during one of those on account of his mother falling ill. The other one was shot by you falling ill with the worst cold you’ve known in all your years of living. San came by that Friday with your favorite chicken and beer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk getting him sick when you knew how important the semester was to him too. It didn’t keep him from coming by again Saturday and Sunday both, soup was delivered to your front door along with voice messages wishing you well throughout the night. Even your text conversations were fizzling into oblivion by the time finals rolled around, which only served to amplify your feelings of dread. 
“Has he been acting differently?” Wooyoung tunes back into the conversation, this time more serious with his tone. “Like, he's pulling away or something?” Wooyoung stands on a different footing in this conversation and knows things Seonghwa doesn't in terms of your relationship with San. He's been there for you since well before you started dating San, and you're certain that he'll be there for you if it were to end tomorrow, the next day, or years down the line. 
“It's gonna sound so childish and stupid but he hasn't been calling me nicknames since the semester ended.” You tuck your hands into your lap and shrink into yourself a little, feeling the hot burn of shame well up inside.
“That's not stupid at all, y/n,” Seonghwa reassures barely a second after you finish your train of thought. “That's not.”
“He's right. That's totally unlike San.”
“Not! Helping!”
“I'm just being honest?!”
“Look, y/n, I don't want you to start having doom thoughts or thinking the worst — that doesn't mean his feelings for you have changed.” You’re starting to think that you should’ve asked Seonghwa for advice from the start instead of Wooyoung. “Maybe he's feeling that awkwardness you are too, or maybe he's feeling insecure. The only way to know is to ask. Have an open and honest conversation about it.”
“But…” You glance past Seonghwa to look at Wooyoung's back. Without even needing to look back, he seems to feel the weight of your stare.
“You're scared that if you bring it up, the worst will happen and y'all will break up.”
“We've been dating for so long that I don't know what I would do if that happened. I don't know how to be single, no offense to either of you, but it's just that we've been together for so long now. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it ended.”
“If…” Wooyoung bites his words back as though he's unsure of how they will come out. “I don't want this to sound harsh, but if all it takes for him to lose his feelings for you is one busy semester, then that's not someone I would want you to have a future with. I know it's not up to me and it's not my business, but I want you to value yourself more than you value your relationship with San.”
“I truly don't think he's lost his feelings for you, y/n,” Seonghwa cuts in again, hand darting out across the counter in your direction. “Woo is right; you should value yourself more than the relationship you're in, but that doesn't mean you can only have one of those things. They can coexist.”
“What if I’m fighting for something he doesn’t want any longer?” you inquire softly and under your breath.
“The spark isn’t gone, y/n, I’m certain of that much. Maybe you just… need to find a way to reignite it!” The coffee maker dings loudly behind Wooyoung. And like it’s turning on a lightbulb in Wooyoung’s head, his expression turns suddenly bright. “Why not do just that? It’s been half a decade, to be fair, so really you can’t be blamed if things feel a little stale. If you went and did things that made you fall for each other in the first place, wouldn’t that help a bit?”
“I hate to say it…”
“You always say that when I’m right!”
“Ignoring him, that does sound like a good plan, y/n.”
Despite the reassurance from both your best friend and someone you consider to be far more mature and wiser, it doesn’t fully quell the concerns settling in your gut.
It’s only been six days since you last saw San, though you would argue that it feels a lot more like six months given how absent you both have been from each other’s lives of late. While that isn’t particularly your fault or his wholly — it’s definitely a joint effort that’s kept you apart — it does make your skin itch with anxiety every time you think about seeing him again.
It’s all culminated into this moment right now, where you sit on the edge of your couch waiting for the doorbell to ring and announce his arrival. You want to see him, desperately so, you’ve missed him so incredibly much that you can hardly stand it. And yet — you’re rooted to the cushions riddled by anxieties. You tried to rid yourself of the lingering stress after leaving Wooyoung’s apartment by doing chores properly for the first time in months, going so far as to run to the grocery and restock some necessities as well. You hate to be the type of partner who cannot do anything alone without associating it with your partner, but San was on your mind throughout the day.
Will he feel the same as you even though the flame keeping your relationship alive has been inching closer and closer to nothingness? The two of you don’t fight, in fact, your friends like to say that things go a little too smoothly between you two, and while that’s true, they aren’t aware of what it looks like when you and San aren’t getting along. It looks the way this semester has, slow conversations that lead nowhere and less time spent in each other’s presence. You aren’t fighting right now, but you certainly aren’t all sunshine and rainbows. The weather mirrors your emotions — dim greys shrouded by white flurries of snow that have been falling since early afternoon.
You clench your fingers around the seam of the couch cushion. No part of you wants to play the part of the overbearing partner: if you’re too eager to see him, wouldn’t he find it off-putting? 
The doorbell rings.
It takes a moment for you to brace yourself for impact, standing and walking over to the door as slowly as you can manage without it seeming like a deliberate delay. The second you open the door, however, your worries melt away for a moment. 
San smiles so brightly like you’ve not gone a second without reveling in each other’s presence. The weather is clinging to his coat still even though he had to climb three flights of stairs to reach your door. The little snowflakes are beginning to melt into the fabric.
“May I come in?” The facade cracks a bit. It’s not like him to ask such things, but you choose not to hold it against him now.
“Yeah, yeah, I finally had time to clean the other day so everything’s — nice.” 
If your smile is strained, he says nothing about it, stepping over the threshold and into your apartment like it’s the first time he’s ever done so. He’s polite all the time, but now it makes those seeds of doubt sprout further because you’ve been together for five years now, what reason does he have to act like a stranger in your home? A home he’s been in time and time again, one he’s slept in, fucked you— 
“Do you want ramen or pizza?” You force the thoughts to come to a halt before your expression turns bitter.
“Let’s do ramen, I’ll cut up the vegetables for you.”
There’s an elephant in the room that it seems neither of you wants to address, and so you keep your mouth shut just the same as San with the thought of “maybe this awkwardness will pass after tonight”. You watch him remove his coat and hang it up on the door while still picking at your nails. He extends a hand to you, one you take eagerly, and you lace your fingers through the gaps between his. A bit like a well-oiled machine, you think, something that Wooyoung had noted about the two of you as far back as freshman year of college. San presses his lips to the top of your head. You lean into the touch ever so slightly. 
You share in a quiet synergy that carries you through the motions of preparing food, with no conversation exchanged aside from a “watch for the knife” and “careful, behind you” on occasion. You’re still trying to psyche yourself up to bring up what’s truly on your mind, so you aren’t sure that you’d be able to get any conversation out without it spiraling into insanity right off the bat. For the moment, for now, you want to simply drink in San’s presence. 
He hums as he opens a cabinet in search of bowls, but they aren’t there. 
“Oh, I—I moved the bowls to the other side.” Three months ago, your mind adds. It would do nothing but add salt to a blossoming wound. San stops dead in his tracks too. He seems to suffer the same crisis that you do right then. After a few seconds of mental buffering, he resumes his humming and shifts to the adjacent cabinet like the moment didn’t happen at all. 
You sit beside each other at the bar counter, atop the uncomfortable stools you’ve had for well over two years now, but it offers a weird comfort because it’s familiar, it’s something San knows, it’s something you share and have shared for years. 
“Thanks for the meal,” San says, still wearing a bitten-back smile. 
“Of course. Thank you for helping.” But the detrimental reality of not speaking to someone properly for a long while is that part of you forgets how to make conversation with them. There is nothing for you and San to “catch up on” seeing as you’ve been keeping each other updated on your lives through dry text conversations. “Um…” He’s eyeing you carefully now, and you could pass off the watering in your eyes as the spice of the food, but he would call your bluff in an instant. The funny thing about doubt is that once it’s taken root, it’ll keep growing back no matter how many times you chop at the stem.
“What’s wrong, y/n?”
“It’s just — I don’t — are we breaking up?”
San freezes halfway over his ramen, chopsticks nearly falling from his fingers as he rushes to put his noodles back down. Your shoulders start shaking before you can stop it. He doesn’t stop you from turning away from him, but San has always been endlessly patient and gentle with you so you don’t expect him to ask you to look at him anyway. He does rest a hand atop your forearm though, and his thumb drags small, comforting circles over your skin. 
“Talk to me, y/n, what do you mean by that? Why would we be breaking up?” The words themselves sound calm. There’s a slight quiver to his tone, however, that makes you want to crawl inside yourself and disappear. “A-Are you wanting that?” Your continued lack of response makes San more urgent than ever, and he shifts his hand to your leg, spinning you to face him. You can’t be certain of the expression on your face (though you’d wager there is some degree of hurt); whatever San sees makes him let out a distressed noise from the back of his throat. “Come here, duck, talk to me.”
Standing on somewhat shaky legs, you push yourself closer to San, and he instinctually moves his knees apart to let you tuck yourself into the space there.
“Don’t cry, baby, I’m here, you can talk to me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your face in his hands. You reach down to cling to his shirt like it’s a lifeline. 
“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in weeks. This is the first time we’ve spent time together in six days. We’ve barely spoken or spent time together all semester, and I know why — I know we agreed that school and work have to come first. I know that.” Your voice drops to a whisper as you lose the confidence to speak. “I didn’t think it would mean losing you though.”
“You haven’t lost me, y/n. I’m still here, with you, loving you just as much as ever.” San smiles a little as you push your cheek further into his palm. “My feelings have not changed. I thought about you every day, wondered how you were doing, and if you responded to my texts late, I hoped you were eating well and getting enough rest. I listened to your voice memos rooting for me every night. Your face was always the first thing I saw in the morning because I still keep that slideshow of you as my lockscreen.” Reaching around to the back of your neck, he gives you a little tug, and your foreheads bump together. “The thought of you helped get me through the semester because I knew that it was you who was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.”
“Sannie…”
“How long have you been worried over this, baby? You should’ve come to me the moment you started having doubts. I wouldn’t have let this go on if I had known.”
“I thought I felt you pulling away so I was scared to bring it up. You weren’t calling me nicknames anymore, and I started reading into it too much and freaked myself out.”
“I’m so sorry, y/n. Don’t put the blame on yourself, it’s not a crime to have anxieties. I didn’t even realize I stopped using them. I suppose I just got swept up in my own feelings and wanted to call you by your name as much as possible.” He nudges you with his head again. “Because I missed you so dearly.” Your lips turn up at the corners, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “And because I adore you so so much, my y/n.”
“Stop that.” You hope he doesn’t, truly.
“But I’m so mushy and full of love for you, y/n.”
“You’re gonna make me blush.”
“Oh, I can think of other ways to do that, baby.” San stands, subsequently pushing his body into yours, but your hands are still on each other, his moving down to caress the back of your thigh before he hooks his fingers around the bend of your knee and hoists your leg up over his hip. “I haven’t been good to you, my sweet,” he murmurs close to your lips. “What kind of boyfriend am I if I let you feel unwanted?” Your heart skips a beat as he grips tight at your other leg, then you’re suddenly weightless for a second as he hoists you up to his waist.
“We just ate—”
“I don’t plan on letting that stop me.” You let out a gasp as San traces the line of your jaw with his lips, hot breath spilling across your skin as he carries you from the kitchen. “Unless you want it to?” This damned man knows what he’s doing, he knows the hold he has over you — your brain is already turning into a foggy mess of want, and even the prospect of waiting two minutes for him to lay his hands on you is too much to bear. Your nails drag across his shoulders, tugging at the thin material. He misses the doorknob to your bedroom thanks to your antics, sending you against the wood a little harshly and forcing the air out of your lungs. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Still on the pill.”
“Hm?” he echoes, managing to turn it right on the second try and popping it open properly.
“I’m still on the pill,” you repeat. San freezes in place to stare at your face. You bring a hand around to toy at his parted lips with your thumb. “So you can fuck me raw.”
San becomes so dumbstruck that his jaw moves up and down over and over without any semblance of noise coming out.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a horny teenager,” he says under his breath. You drop your head back and laugh. San’s hold on you feels so blissfully warm. You didn’t even have time for this during the semester, sometimes thanks to your workloads but more often thanks to sheer exhaustion. A few solo jaunts before bed are hardly enough to please you the way San does. Based on how tightly he’s gripping your ass, he seems to feel exactly the same.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
He manages to get you both to the bed without further incident, laying you down on the mattress with a sort of reverence that makes your chest swell with emotion. Even through the barrier of clothing, his fingers are hot and sear a path from your hips up your waist then right back down again as San wastes no time in stripping you of your pants. 
“I missed you so fucking much it’s insane.” You want to respond, but the sight of your lover dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed stops you in your tracks. All you can do is lie there and watch him tug your pants off, lips moving to kiss each bit of exposed skin along the way. Goosebumps rise across your body when he kisses his way up higher. His broad frame cages you in the closer he gets to your face, and despite his hands being on the somewhat small side, they feel all-encompassing when they’re sneaking under your shirt and exploring the skin beneath.
“I missed you more,” you murmur, catching his chin between your fingers and angling his face upwards so you can properly look at him. “I love you so so much, San. More than I can put into words.”
“Yeah?” You make no effort to pull him higher although he moves as though you do and climbs all the way up to be right over your face. He hums before dipping down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I think I’ve missed you more still though—” another kiss, this time to the opposite side of your mouth “—but you’re welcome to challenge me on that.”
“San,” you whine. He pulls back and sits back on his knees. Your brain goes totally blank watching him take his shirt off. It’s something you’ve seen time and time again, truly nothing new or foreign to you, but something about it now makes your gut twist in on itself. He’s lost a bit of the muscle you’ve grown accustomed to seeing on him, now softer around the edges, at the waist and across his stomach. It doesn’t curb your desire for him in the slightest; if anything it makes you want him more, to cling to him tighter and feel him firmer against you.
He throws the shirt down to the floor and drags a hand through his dark hair. His legs are splayed around yours, putting the prominent bulge in his pants on full display before you.
“I want you to use me, y/n.” He grabs your hand from where it’s resting against the bed and brings it to his chest. You dig your nail into his flesh like it’s second nature to do so. “Tonight, for your pleasure.” His eyes trail after your every moment, watching as you sit up and pull your legs out from under him. You graze the underside of his dick ever so slightly yet it’s still enough to make his lashes flutter. 
“Then…” San is like putty in your hands, conforming to every move you make while still maintaining that unbreaking eye contact. He turns with you, and you climb off the bed to stand despite feeling seconds away from toppling over. All it takes is the slightest push against his chest for him to lie flat on his back. “Will you be good for me?” 
His response comes in the form of a bitten-back whine thanks to you cupping the bulge of his cock as you withdraw your hand. It’s intoxicating to strip him of his jeans and feel every inch of his pretty tapered waist. You urge him to move further up on the bed, making room for you between his legs once you’ve tossed his pants down beside yours on the floor. The tip of his cock peeks out the top of his underwear, already stiff and leaking precum onto the elastic band. Saucy nudes here and there don’t do him nearly enough justice, you think. You tease just the bit of him that's exposed with your tongue, licking at the sensitive and swollen head, and he twitches beneath the fabric. Humming to yourself, you inch his underwear down just far enough to put his whole member on display, along with his balls, but you don’t go any further than that. It’s enough for you to get your mouth around him, after all, and that’s exactly what you do without giving San any time to brace himself for the touch.
He lets out a desperate moan the moment your wet heat envelopes his length, fingers curling into his palms around the comforter. His hips twitch with the desire to thrust upwards, but he keeps himself firmly planted on the bed, fulfilling his end of the bargain for you and being so delightfully good. The weight of him on your tongue isn’t nearly enough; you want him buried deep inside you as soon as possible, and you’d go on and do it now if you didn’t think it would hurt like a bitch given how long it’s been since you’ve taken him. San isn’t distracted enough to miss the way you retract a hand to touch yourself, and he fights to speak through broken moans.
“I w-wanna touch you, pretty.” You lift yourself off his cock until just the tip sits on your lower lip.
“I’ll let you later when I ask you to fold me in half and fuck me into the mattress.” You sink two fingers into your hole, taking San back into your mouth to revel in that full feeling again. You’re just as needy as he is, in reality, because your walls are already coated with arousal and it pools around the base of your fingers in such a way that it makes your cheeks flush. San’s noises aren’t helping in the slightest — for as quiet as he is in day-to-day life, he is ever so vocal when it comes to sex, especially when his cock is buried in your mouth. He’s just long enough to push right into the back of your throat, making it far easier for you to take him fully. 
“Your mouth feels so — fuck, fucking good, baby.” If you weren’t preoccupied, you would love to return his words with your own, so you settle for tugging at his balls a little. It earns you a delightful little yelp, and his hips buck up to drive his dick further into your throat than expected. “Hngh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“I want—” you don’t finish your train of thought, too rushed to bother with it as you scramble to rid yourself of your underwear. San greets you with his hands when you climb back onto the bed and grabs hold of your waist. He tugs and pulls at your shirt until it’s gone too, leaving you with nothing more than your plain black bra. However, even that San seems to find issue with, because he toys with the clasp until it comes loose and throws that aside too.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, settling back against the mattress. He’s always told you this is his favorite position, to see you straddling his hips and bouncing on his cock, though he favors missionary quite a bit as well because it lets him see your body and face while he’s fucking you (despite how much he loves your ass). His cock is trapped between your pussy and his stomach now, hard and throbbing for the same kind of stimulation you so desperately crave. You drag your folds along his length a few times just to tease San, but he grips your hip in warning. In hindsight, you should have let him finger you open more before because the stretch is far more than you remember — not enough to hurt, but enough for you to really feel every inch of him entering your body. It makes you writhe atop him, your spine arches, and you drop your head back. San holds you like you're a precious gem, thick arms circling around your waist as you rest your hands on his chest. The position gives you some much-needed stability, but San's fingers have begun to get severely distracting. He rolls his thumbs into your skin, pausing only to squeeze and pinch at the more sensitive parts of your sides. 
“I’m gonna start moving,” you whisper like being too loud will break some sort of seal. San nods and unwraps his arms enough to simply hold your hips. Despite the decrease in definition of his muscles, his strength doesn’t seem to have gone anywhere, because he lifts you with such ease that it’s a bit dizzying. Still, he lets the control rest in your hands. You sink down slowly on his cock, letting your walls get used to the drag, before doing the same motion two, three more times. The first whimper to fall from your lips is what snaps your resolve. San’s hold on you remains firm but only to ease the strain on your thighs as you begin to pick up your pace. 
“Beautiful, beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my sweet.” San rolls his hips up in time with your movements, driving his cock up into your cunt as you drop yourself onto him, and it reaches so deep inside you that you see stars behind your eyelids. “Missed you so much, missed this, seeing your body through photos wasn’t enough — fuck, it wasn’t enough.”
“How many, ah, times did you come to those photos, hm?” You crack one eye open to watch San’s face. He’s already flushed with want, but the red in his cheeks deepens more upon hearing your question. You lean your weight further into your hands. “I fingered myself so many times thinking of you, Sannie. B-But, hngh, it wasn’t good enough. Not as good as your cock. Nothing… n-nothing feels as good!”
San thrusts up with more vigor now, all but taking over for you to go slack above him as he drives your hips down with his hands and pushes his length into you from the opposite direction. Then, suddenly, his movements falter and stutter to a halt, and he looks just as shocked as you are when his cock twitches against your walls. A blooming of warmth fills you right after, along with the realization that San has just come inside you without warning.
“I-I’m sorry, I — I didn’t mean to, ah, I thought I would last longer.” He slings an arm up over his eyes, and the red in his face deepens in hue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you come first.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Leaning down over him, you peel his arm away from his face so that you can see his shamed expression better.
“Your dick is far from the only thing that can make me come, babe. Right?” 
He nods a few times, but there’s still a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. 
“Then—” you detach yourself from his body, bringing about an unwelcome emptiness as his spent cock slips out of you, and roll onto your back beside him. He watches with rapt attention as you spread your legs and open your pussy to him. “Why don’t you?”
San moves with surprising haste for a man who has just come, rolling into the space between your legs, and while you expected him to just use his fingers to get you off, he hooks his hands around your thighs and shoves his face into your used cunt instead. It yanks a startled moan out of you, and it’s only amplified when he closes his lips around your clit. He’s lucky you don’t give him a concussion with how quickly you slam your thighs around his head. You don’t notice that he’s moved a hand until fingers are prodding at your leaking entrance and urging the come he just pumped into you back into your hole.
“O-Oh, San.” 
Normally, he takes his sweet time eating you out, bringing you to the precipice of orgasm before sending you right back down time and time again without release. Though, either out of lingering shame at coming early or simply out of a desire to make you unravel, San laps at your clit so eagerly that it sends shudders through you. You can feel your blood rushing lower as he urges you to come, walls clenching around his fingers. It only takes another second more for the first wave to hit you, and it makes you scramble to grab hold of San’s hair as he keeps curling his fingers over your sweet spot. He does so throughout each wave of your orgasm until tears burn the corners of your eyes and you’re all but pleading for him to grant you some mercy.
“You — you had nothing to prove, you know,” you say between desperate attempts to catch your breath. San giggles and looks up at you from his lewd position. “Ugh!” You shove his head away from you half-heartedly just to spare yourself more embarrassment.
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, duck!”
You only go as far as the pillows, turning back to him immediately and opening your arms to welcome him into them. 
“I came too early, of course I had something to prove,” he adds once he’s snugly placed against your chest. You slot together like two pieces of a puzzle, his head under your chin and your breath stirring the messy strands of hair in your path. “I’ve fallen out of practice. When was the last time I did that? It’s embarrassing…”
You can’t contain your laughter.
“You always come a little early when I ride you.”
“That’s not fair!”
All you can do to soothe him is pat his head. You feel a tad sticky and gross all over, but San’s warmth more than makes up for it, and if you’re not careful, you’re certain you’ll fall asleep within minutes. A small sniffle coming from the man atop you chases thoughts of rest away in the blink of an eye though.
“San?”
“’m okay, promise.”
“You’re crying, baby, that’s not ”okay“.”
“I just,” he inhales and licks over his lips, skating across your sternum in the process. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna stay afloat without you.” You comb your fingers through his hair.
“Tell me when you need me and I’ll be there. Always.”
“I didn’t want to disrupt your schedule and get in the way.”
“You have to trust that I’ll take care of myself and my responsibilities even if I help you too. You always tell me that when I worry over the same things. It goes both ways, San, okay?”
“Okay.” He nods against you. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that. As long as you don’t lock yourself away when things get tough. Rely on me if you need strength. And talk to me when something is on your mind.”
“Alright, we have an agreement.” Out of nowhere, you remember Wooyoung’s suggestion from this morning. Picking at a stray piece of San’s hair, you mull over your thoughts some more. You could let things settle as they are now since things seem to be back to a pleasant state of balance. But even so, would it do any harm to try anyway? “I’d like to go on a first date again. With you. I want us to go on a first date again.”
“Hm?”
“Like… I want us to go out like it’s the first time all over again. And feel that excitement and giddiness we had back then. We don’t have to, it’s just a thought. I don’t know. Maybe it’d be a good thing after this semester.”
Silence overtakes the room. San’s breathing is so steady that you think he’s fallen asleep, but the second you try to shift and see his face, he tilts his head up and looks into your eyes.
“Alright. Let’s go on a first date again.”
“I figured we’d go to that little Thai place by the grocery before heading over to the Christmas light show?”
“Oh!” Your thoughts rearrange themselves around his words. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”
“The guys wanna meet up at Wooyoung’s after for chicken and beer, but I told them I’d leave the decision up to you.” He tilts his chin a bit to the side as he speaks, lips quirked up at the corners, and you find yourself so incredibly fond of him all over again.
“Let’s see how we feel after walking around.”
You offer to drive tonight, but he denies you quickly, whining about how he filled his tank full of gas just for tonight so you don’t push the matter any further than that (though, you still tease him a bit once he opens the passenger door for you). When he turns the car on, music starts blasting through the speakers, a song you recognize well, and the dash shows that he’s been listening to the playlist you made for him at the start of the last school year. 
“Sorry, forgot the volume was up so high.” He scrambles to twist the dial down, but you stop him with your hand, gripping his wrist lightly and giving a firm shake of your head.
“I didn’t realize you still listened to it. Normally you just have the radio going.”
“Ah, well,” San’s cheeks are a bit flush under the low lights of the car, “I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit sentimental these days.” His next move is a bit hesitant; he reaches across the console and lays his hand atop your thigh. You reassure him by putting your hand over his, fingers curling around his once again. It feels normal and familiar, though you can’t count on two hands the last time you’ve done something as menial as holding hands with San. 
“San?” He makes a noise of acknowledgment while watching the road. “I’ve missed you.” His nails dig into your flesh a little, and the pressure makes your heart clench in your chest.
“I’ve missed you more.” You can only see his side profile, but it’s enough for you to catch the upturn of his lips. 
“I’ve missed you most then.” The statement slips out through a pout. 
“And I love you more than the moon loves the ocean.”
The weight of his hand is comfort enough for you to be at ease for the rest of the drive.
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please like & reblog this work and consider leaving a reply or sharing your thoughts in a reblog or ask!
this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.
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hanjisungsbiwife · 5 months
Text
YALL I FEEL LIGHT HEADED
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hard thought
oh, to ride hannie's tummy for the longest time. clit bumping on his belly button at every trust, stomach completely covered with your slick while he grips you hard from your hips, trying to slow you down a bit, because, even if you are not directly stimulating him, you are dripping so much that your juices are covering his cock too, angry purple and neglected behind you.
"baby, t-take it slow - ah - oh g-god mh"
you laugh over him, the pressure on your throbbing pussy is just right and you feel lightheaded while you keep your rythm. the slide is wet and creamy under you.
"why hannie? are you gonna cum too? let me move, it feels so good, you cannot imagine"
he cums before you do ♡
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hanjisungsbiwife · 6 months
Text
10:39pm
Choi San x Reader
Warnings: swearing (only once I think), mentions of reader having periods, San being the best bf
Summary: life sucks but at least you have San to make it better
A/N: omg it’s been like 2 years since I’ve written a fic…WHOOPS
The day sucked, or for a more accurate description, the days sucked.
Every day for the past month has been a nonstop cycle of waking up, going to work at your full time job for eight hours, coming home and doing university work until dinner (sometimes forgetting to even eat), and then work until you pass out. Endless quizzes and essays and math notes that went on for ten pages.
The only good constant in your life was San. The guy has been there for you all throughout this crappy process. Always providing shoulder rubs when you got tense, checking in to see if you’ve eaten, leaving cups of water on your work table even if you didn’t notice until you got parched an hour later.
Right now you were trying to write an essay for your geography class. The time was now twenty minutes past six o’clock and right on schedule was your time to stress. Your legs were crossed underneath you, your laptop and notes spread out covering the coffee table in front of you. You were wearing one of San’s hoodies, specifically the gray one that he unwillingly gave to you. The one that he used to wear all the time but since you came around you adopted it as yours. You’ve worn it so much so that it started to have your scent on it rather than San’s.
The tv across from you softly played your playlist as you tried to focus. The pain coming from your stomach didn’t help. That’s just what you needed this week too. The moment you woke up you knew.
You heard the apartment door creak open “Sweetheart,” San called out, “I’m home.”
You were in too much pain to even greet him. He took his shoes off by the door and furrowed his eyebrows. “Sweetheart?”
He walked over to you and saw how you were bent over, studying and in pain. He knew when you were hurting. He sat next to you on the couch and wrapped his arms around you. Your body naturally sunk into him and he smiled softly. “That time again?”
You nodded against his chest. He softened his voice. “You doing okay?” Again, you silently shook your head. It was as if you could feel his smile sink. “Have you eaten today?” he asked.
“Only coffee this morning and an apple when I got home,” you croaked out.
“Baby, that’s not food.”
You sat up. “Knowledge is brain food,” you half-heartedly joked as you tapped your pencil on your forehead.
“Okay,” he laughed, “now you’re being delirious.” San stood from the couch holding his hand out. You looked at him and blinked, wondering what in the world was he doing. “C’mon. Let’s go get food.”
“Sannie,” you sighed, “there’s just too much to do. I can’t just up and leave when there’s notes to take and I have to finish this essay by next class meet and not to mention the-”
You felt his lips softly press against your own. “Take a break, my love. You’re overworking yourself again.” He pulled you up and stood you against his body, enveloping you into a hug worth of awards. “I’ll take you to that small Italian place you like so much and we can even bring it back here and watch your show. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like I would be missing a lot of work,” you mumbled into his chest.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Fine,” you groaned. You moved to grab your phone. “But only if you promise me cheesecake.”
He laughed at your antics. “Honey, that was always the plan.”
He took your hand and didn’t let go the entire walk to the car. Even when he started driving, his hand was on your thigh. There was not a moment when his hand wasn’t touching you.
Flash forward to the apartment, pasta containers on the table instead of the notes, your laptop put away to charge for the night. The show you and San started together played before you, a show that you’ve both seen numerous times, but it was your show. You looked at San as he watched the tv. He was dressed in his own hoodie and sweats. His black hair lay in front of his eyes; you loved it when his hair grew out. You smiled to yourself thinking how lucky you were for him.
He turned his eyes to you. “What?” he smiled.
“Nothing,” you said, “just looking at you.”
“Okay, creep,” he laughed as he set his bowl down and opened his arms for you. You gladly accepted and laid there for a minute, taking in the moment. You squeezed his waist a bit tighter and in turn your stomach did the same.
“Jesus Christ,” you sucked through your teeth. Of course it would act up when you were in your best moment.
“Jagi,” San started to move, “get up for a sec.”
“Wait-no, I just wanna lay here,” you protested.
“Trust me, sweetheart.” He laid down facing the tv and made room for you to lay your back against his chest. When you were settled, you felt his hand come under your hoodie and lay on your stomach, rubbing small circles into your skin.
“I love you, Sannie, so much.”
You felt his lips against your forehead. “I love you always, sweetheart.”
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hanjisungsbiwife · 6 months
Text
10:39pm
Choi San x Reader
Warnings: swearing (only once I think), mentions of reader having periods, San being the best bf
Summary: life sucks but at least you have San to make it better
A/N: omg it’s been like 2 years since I’ve written a fic…WHOOPS
The day sucked, or for a more accurate description, the days sucked.
Every day for the past month has been a nonstop cycle of waking up, going to work at your full time job for eight hours, coming home and doing university work until dinner (sometimes forgetting to even eat), and then work until you pass out. Endless quizzes and essays and math notes that went on for ten pages.
The only good constant in your life was San. The guy has been there for you all throughout this crappy process. Always providing shoulder rubs when you got tense, checking in to see if you’ve eaten, leaving cups of water on your work table even if you didn’t notice until you got parched an hour later.
Right now you were trying to write an essay for your geography class. The time was now twenty minutes past six o’clock and right on schedule was your time to stress. Your legs were crossed underneath you, your laptop and notes spread out covering the coffee table in front of you. You were wearing one of San’s hoodies, specifically the gray one that he unwillingly gave to you. The one that he used to wear all the time but since you came around you adopted it as yours. You’ve worn it so much so that it started to have your scent on it rather than San’s.
The tv across from you softly played your playlist as you tried to focus. The pain coming from your stomach didn’t help. That’s just what you needed this week too. The moment you woke up you knew.
You heard the apartment door creak open “Sweetheart,” San called out, “I’m home.”
You were in too much pain to even greet him. He took his shoes off by the door and furrowed his eyebrows. “Sweetheart?”
He walked over to you and saw how you were bent over, studying and in pain. He knew when you were hurting. He sat next to you on the couch and wrapped his arms around you. Your body naturally sunk into him and he smiled softly. “That time again?”
You nodded against his chest. He softened his voice. “You doing okay?” Again, you silently shook your head. It was as if you could feel his smile sink. “Have you eaten today?” he asked.
“Only coffee this morning and an apple when I got home,” you croaked out.
“Baby, that’s not food.”
You sat up. “Knowledge is brain food,” you half-heartedly joked as you tapped your pencil on your forehead.
“Okay,” he laughed, “now you’re being delirious.” San stood from the couch holding his hand out. You looked at him and blinked, wondering what in the world was he doing. “C’mon. Let’s go get food.”
“Sannie,” you sighed, “there’s just too much to do. I can’t just up and leave when there’s notes to take and I have to finish this essay by next class meet and not to mention the-”
You felt his lips softly press against your own. “Take a break, my love. You’re overworking yourself again.” He pulled you up and stood you against his body, enveloping you into a hug worth of awards. “I’ll take you to that small Italian place you like so much and we can even bring it back here and watch your show. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like I would be missing a lot of work,” you mumbled into his chest.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Fine,” you groaned. You moved to grab your phone. “But only if you promise me cheesecake.”
He laughed at your antics. “Honey, that was always the plan.”
He took your hand and didn’t let go the entire walk to the car. Even when he started driving, his hand was on your thigh. There was not a moment when his hand wasn’t touching you.
Flash forward to the apartment, pasta containers on the table instead of the notes, your laptop put away to charge for the night. The show you and San started together played before you, a show that you’ve both seen numerous times, but it was your show. You looked at San as he watched the tv. He was dressed in his own hoodie and sweats. His black hair lay in front of his eyes; you loved it when his hair grew out. You smiled to yourself thinking how lucky you were for him.
He turned his eyes to you. “What?” he smiled.
“Nothing,” you said, “just looking at you.”
“Okay, creep,” he laughed as he set his bowl down and opened his arms for you. You gladly accepted and laid there for a minute, taking in the moment. You squeezed his waist a bit tighter and in turn your stomach did the same.
“Jesus Christ,” you sucked through your teeth. Of course it would act up when you were in your best moment.
“Jagi,” San started to move, “get up for a sec.”
“Wait-no, I just wanna lay here,” you protested.
“Trust me, sweetheart.” He laid down facing the tv and made room for you to lay your back against his chest. When you were settled, you felt his hand come under your hoodie and lay on your stomach, rubbing small circles into your skin.
“I love you, Sannie, so much.”
You felt his lips against your forehead. “I love you always, sweetheart.”
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hanjisungsbiwife · 7 months
Text
tooth brush 🫀
Ve’s note - this is fluff . i love a good friends to lovers trope and this is exactly what this is . han jisung x gn reader . this was inspired by that one dnce song . no actual smut but illusion to sex and alcohol mentions .abrupt ending as usual bc i suck at conclusions . i’m gonna get better at posting more frequently and proofreading i swear . (also i’ve gotten a lil critique on my writing style recently but i write how i talk . very casual and very realistic . this is 100% a personal choice and won’t be changing anytime soon sorry *kinda*) anyways i hope your enjoy and feel free to request in my inbox !! <3
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you didn’t expect you’d end up here . never in a million years . staring at your reflection in the mirror it’s safe to say you look a mess . bare feet on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor . hair in every which direction . clothed in only a shirt which definitely didn’t belong to you . maybe you had one to many last night . and now you had to deal with consequences .
taking a deep breath you turn on the faucet sink to splash some water on your face . you needed to be 100% awake for the conversation that awaited you once you stepped out your safe haven . just a few steps outside the bathroom door was your childhood best friend han jisung . it’s been awhile since you’ve seen each other . life taking you on different paths . him to a studio and you to college . your bond never severed though .
you had came home from school and decided to have a sleep over with at his house . an event which has happened several times but not once has it ended the way it did last night . you could blame the liquor or you could blame the unresolved feelings that have sitting between you two since you were both 15 .
you knew hiding in the bathroom and waiting for him to leave the room so you could sneak out wasn’t a realistic option . but it was the one that brought you comfort . confronting the hours you spent embraced in each other last night was scarier in comparison . you could smell the breakfast his parents were cooking for you both downstairs . yeah sneaking out was seeming less likely by the second . picking up your sparkly blue toothbrush you left there after your last sleepover you decide to buck up . you were both adults . adults have sex . it’s normal ….maybe not with their childhood best friend but your sure it’s happened before . spitting out the paste you run yours hands through your hair and take a deep breath . you could do this .
“are you going to hide out in there forever or are you gonna come out eventually ?” you heard jisung say from the other side of the door . you could just picture the smile on his face . it leaked through his voice . there went your resolved , down the drain with your toothpaste . your hope of sneaking out officially ruined you grab the doorknob and step out .
“ah there you are i thought you had fallen down the drainpipe or something .” he said as he took in your disheveled appearance . you were rooted to the floor , scrunching your toes in the carpet and gripping the bottom of your - jisung’s - shirt out of nervousness . you couldn’t find it in you to respond to him . and that’s when he burst out laughing . shocking you out of your stance . how could he be laughing right now . this is a serious situation . but the longer you laughed the more weight you felt lifted of your shoulders . you realized that this was just jisung .
you quarter your shoulders . hand on a hip and sled him what exactly was so funny . your tone mocking an anger that you didn’t really feel .
“you’re just cute when your nervous.” jisung’s said as he gestured you to come lay back in the bed . making your way over to him you grumbled something out about not being cute . he pulled you into his lap as you crossed your hands over your chest . pouting at him for laughing at you .
“hey don’t pout it’s okay i have no regrets .” he said as he swirled soothing circles on your bare thighs . bringing a comfort over you as you smile at him . you asked him if he was just saying that to make you feel better .
“i’ve been in love with you since we were like 15 i’m just glad you feel the same way …unless you do regret it ?” he posed the question to you a hint of insecurity in his tone , to which you brushed away as you planted a kiss to the mole on his cheek . you would never regret him .
“cmon my parents made breakfast we can talk seriously after you eat.” jisung stated as he took your hand and lead you out the bed and towards the smell of breakfast .
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hanjisungsbiwife · 7 months
Text
Miss Independent
(inspired by Ne-yo's song)
(GirlBoss!Reader x Personal Assistant! Hongjoong) (Colleagues to lovers) (fluffy romance) (reader is afraid of storms) (short office romance) (possibly there will be a part 2 with smut)
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In the bustling halls of a cutting-edge technology company in a very busy commercial building, you, a remarkable business woman and Vice President of this company, got known for your determination and relentless focus on achieving a successful career, betting all of your efforts on growing this company scratch with your best friend. You learned over time that you needed to be tough to progress, since this area was widely controlled by men and there's always someone trying to discredit women. So you made it a personal mission to get your company to be a safe place and be the best professional you could be.
You're an admirable leader, but your personal life took a backseat. You always worked endless hours and overtime, focusing solely on doing business. The company kept rising well, then came a problem: your assistant decided to resign to go work for your competitor. Now you have to go over interviews to find a new assistant, so you did. You participate actively in the process, since whoever gets hired would work directly with you, so you felt the need to be sure they would be capable enough.
You didn't make it easy for anybody, you made specific questions and a few of the candidates didn't know how to answer or started stuttering, others weren't as qualified and you were getting tired. It lasted four days until you met Hongjoong one morning doing an interview for this job. A young and talented software developer, that didn't show any fear and aswered your questions perfectly well, looking in your eyes without any fear. After 40 minutes you told him to stay and gave him a few tasks to see how he would go. Hongjoong showed himself to be smart, quick witted, committed to work and serious about it. At the end of the day you called him to your office to give the final answer. He entered bringing a cappuccino and placed it in front of you in your desk.
"This is for you, Miss." He said and you tilted your head, letting out a very light smile at the action.
"Thanks, Hongjoong. You can sit down." You offered the seat in front of you and he did as told while you took a sip of the coffee.
"Well, I have to say you impressed me in a good way. None of the other candidates caught my attention like you did today." You started and Hongjoong visibly relaxed at your feedback.
"I did my best, I'm glad to hear that from you, Miss."
"I'm sure you'll be even more glad to hear that you will be hired. You can bring your documents to the HR department tomorrow at 8 in the morning and sign our contract." You got up from your seat and Hongjoong did the same, bowing to you and you raised a hand to greet him, which he took and shook your hand.
"Thank you Miss ______, I will not disappoint you." Hongjoong smiled widely and you let his hand go, switching off your computer and getting your bag to leave, dismissing Hongjoong to go home.
|•••••Time skip•••••|
The first six months of working together were a challenge. You resisted any form of distraction, maintaining a strictly professional relationship with Hongjoong. Everyday he came to your office to report and receive new tasks, he brought your lunch and coffee and as days passed and you worked side by side, he started making a few little efforts to make the barriers give way. One afternoon, you were reviewing an important document in your office when Hongjoong walked in. He noticed the tired look on your face and suggested you take a break. You resisted with a frown at first, but Hongjoong someway succeeded at convincing you to go the snack bar on the first floor of the building.
The snack bar was peaceful at this hour and made a good break from the stressful office atmosphere. You felt at ease with Hongjoong's presence and he offered to buy donuts. You both sat down, ate and talked about trivial things and sharing laughs here and there. You found yourself truly relaxing for the first time in years.
After that day, you and Hongjoong began sharing more and more moments outside of work. Having lunch together became a routine and when you worked overtime he occasionally invited you to dinner together. He opened doors for you, drives you off, treated you like a princess. You both didn't talk clearly about it, but you were beginning to feel something that had long since receded from your mind: the spark of romance. However, you struggled with those feelings. It seemed so wrong, he is your assistant and you're the boss. You felt afraid of mixing love and business, worried about the consequences a relationship could have for the company you had worked so hard to build. But every time you're together, the chemistry between you becomes impossible to ignore. It started making you mad.
One day, you left your office because you needed a document that was with Hongjoong, but as soon as you saw him you noticed something and frowned. Yujin, a beautiful co-worker, was approaching him a little more intimately than usual. They seemed to be having a lively conversation and Yujin didn't hide her interest, touching his arm unnecessarily. You, feeling a pang of jealousy, tried not to act affected, but you couldn't avoid the stress of seeing the scene. Your mind created several unpleasant scenarios. "Is he interested in her? Is he flirting back?"
"Kim Hongjoong." You spoke in a firm and serious tone, catching the attention of the two who were talking.
"Yes, miss? Do you need anything?" Hongjoong stood up and responded, no longer paying attention to Yujin.
"Come to my office and bring the project presentation I asked you this morning. Quickly." You said sharply and looked at Yujin from the corner of your eye, who soon got up and left the place.
"Yes, ma'am." He spoke and you turned around and walked back to your office as Hongjoong saved the presentation file you asked for. You slammed the door angrily and headed towards your table, a minute later Hongjoong entered and came over to you.
"Here's the presentation, Miss ______." He gave you the pendrive and you sighed, connecting it on your computer to open the file. You inspected it and pointed things out for Hongjoong to add since you thought it wasn't enough yet.
"You're staying overtime today, we need this presentation ready for the meeting we'll have with our client tomorrow morning." You told looking back at him and he nodded.
"All right, I'll bring my laptop here." He left the room and came back a minute later with his laptop, sitting down and placing the laptop in front of him and started guiding him specifically on what to add to the presentation. An hour passed and all the employees began leaving since work time was officially over.
It's mid summer and it was very hot during the day, but as the night came many clouds could be seen in the floor-to-ceiling window behind you. Hongjoong finished the details on the presentation and saved it as a sudden storm started. You looked at the window and the lights went out, the fear started creeping out on you but Hongjoong didn't notice yet as he got his phone to activate the flashlight amidst the darkness and the sound of rain outside. Hongjoong placed his phone in a way it illuminated both of you and he finally could see your face again, now noticing your pained expression and your heavy breathing.
"Are you okay, Miss ______?" He questioned with a frown and you shook your head no as a thunder sound out loud and you covered your ears. Hongjoong got worried about you, wanting to keep you safe, so he got up and closed the curtains of your window, coming behind you to cover your shoulders with his blazer.
You've always had a paralyzing fear of thunder, and that night, the storm was fierce, growing stronger and stronger. As he touched your shoulders he felt your whole body shaking with fear and then he crouched to your level and brought up inside his arms in a warm hug, whispering words of comfort. "Don't worry, I'm here with you. You're safe. The storm will pass soon." You looked into his eyes hugging his waist carefully, grateful for his presence.
"I hate storms, they make me so nervous, Hongjoong." Your eyes had tears on the edge of falling down, while you and Hongjoong shared an intense look, full of repressed emotions. This was the first time you were truly showing vulnerability to him and he was astonished, all he ever wanted was to take care of you. He pulled your head to his chest and you could listen to his heart beating fast just like yours.
"I don't know if this is really the right time to say this, but.. but I can't deny how I feel anymore. I'm in love with you, ______." His words echoed in the empty office as he broke the silence and confessed his feelings. You were shocked. You didn't expect that he felt the same way you did all this time. Your heart jumped now, not anymore because of fear but from happiness.
"I'm in love with you too, Hongjoong. I tried not to, but it's stronger than me." You squeezed Hongjoong as tight as you could and he kissed the side of your head softly. You looked up and offered your lips to him, which he understood and closed the little distance, sealing the beginning of a long-awaited romance. The storm outside seemed to symbolize the change in your lives and the relationship from boss and assistant to lovers.
"I want to be with you and take care of you through all the storms, will you let me?"
"Of course, Hongjoong." You smile widely and he cupped your face, caressing your cheeks as he smiled as well. "Will you take me home?"
"As long as you wish, my darling."
|•••••••|
Over the next months, your relationship with Hongjoong blossomed into a great love. You chose to main discretion at work, avoiding any favoritism or conflict of interest and not letting the coworkers know you are together. They only knew Hongjoong is in a relationship but he never told them with who. You realized that by making room for love in your life, you weren't weakening your career, but actually strengthening it. Hongjoong supported you in every aspect, becoming a partner in all areas of your life and you become his.
Together, you faced new challenges and business opportunities while the company prospered even more. You found balance between personal and professional life, discovering that you can be a successful leader and at the same time share a loving relationship, that success in business didn't have to mean sacrificing love and personal happiness.
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hanjisungsbiwife · 9 months
Text
Definitely going to read later!! also I found a fellow Lyn lapid fan 😭😭🫶🏻
to love in the 21st century | kim mingyu {PREVIEW}
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SYNOPSIS. in which you fall hard for the handsome stranger at the convenience store, who afterwards, begins popping into your life continuously in more ways than one; however, in the midst of this, you find your own heart slowly shattering in the process. PAIRING. kim mingyu x gn!reader (ft. most of svt as reader's friends + others) GENRE. fluff, angst, suggestive content (none in the preview), situationship au, college au WARNINGS (FOR THE PREVIEW). alcohol consumption, mild cursing WARNINGS (FOR THE FULL FIC). alcohol consumption, cursing, implied sexual content (no actual smut), just tension, more to come WORD COUNT (FOR THE PREVIEW). 810 WORD COUNT (FOR THE FULL FIC). tbd, but estimated 10k+
notes: this is inspired from lyn lapid’s album “to love in the 21st century” <3 i’m also nervous asf writing this fic i hope it turns out okay when i end up finishing jdsfsd. i have no promise of when it will be finished lmao (i’m sorry)
another note: i was thinking of adding a taglist for this fic specifically, so if u are interested feel free to comment, send in an ask, or dm me!
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He's standing not that far away you, easily towering amongst the crowd with his back partially facing you. He’s wearing the same exact dark green corduroy jacket covering his broad shoulders, and his hair was less tousled and slicked back neatly. How the hell is this even possible? Could it just be coincidence?
It's like a scene straight out of a movie. You take a moment to observe him, feeling your heart skip a beat as you watch the way he takes a casual sip from the cup in his hands, the upward curve at the corner of his lips seemingly lighting up the room like a beacon among the darkness. Once again, you surrender your conscious as the sight of him effortlessly draws you in. Then as if on cue, he glances over his shoulder, as if sensing your gaze, and your eyes lock for the first time tonight. 
Time seems to stand still for a moment as you exchange a silent look of something with each other. You feel a rush of heat through your face, and your mind races to figure out what to do next. Should you approach him? What if he doesn't remember you? Or worse, what if he does remember and thinks you're some sort of creep staring at him?
Then he turns back to the people he was talking to, giving them a nod, before facing your way and heading to where you stood. Shit, he’s coming directly towards you. 
When he stops in front of you, with that same wide smile painting his lips and perfectly structured face, it feels like the world around you fades away.
"Enjoying the party a little... too much?” His eyes cast down to the two cups sitting on the table next to you.
You shake your head, feeling a bit self-conscious for a moment. “Ah... this, uh... it’s for a friend. She’s over, um...” You face yourself in the direction of the couch, noticing that Seulgi was nowhere to be found. “Well, she was over there.”
He chuckles as he looks out to where you were gazing at before returning back to you with a subtle smirk, and you feel the slight embarrassment flushing your cheeks. 
“I never got your name back at the store the other day,” he points out. “I’m Mingyu.”
You manage a small smile, your nerves starting to settle as you respond, "Y/N."
"Y/N," he repeats your name lowly, as if testing how it feels on his lips, and the way he says it sends those flutters in your stomach. Then he holds out his cup toward you. "It's nice to officially meet you, Y/N."
You reach out and gently clink your plastic cup against his, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Likewise, Mingyu."
Somehow, talking to him felt natural. You learned that he indeed did go to your university and that he was studying photography and journalism, which you certainly did not expect to be coming from someone like him. Then you found out he came to the party because him and Seungcheol have known each other since high school and were on the basketball team together, which that made more sense. 
You told him you were studying literature, and he seemed genuinely interested, surprisingly even asking about your favourite authors and books. The conversation flowed effortlessly, like you were reconnecting with an old friend rather than meeting a stranger at a party, almost as if you’ve known him longer than just two fateful encounters.
Suddenly, after some time, the music around you shifts to a slower song, the atmosphere of the party becoming a circle of intimacy. And as you and Mingyu finish the rest of your drinks and place the empty cups back on the table, he steps up to you and offers his hand.
“Mind if I steal you for a dance?” he asks, voice soft and inviting.
You glance at his hand, eliciting a nervous laugh. “Oh, I am a disaster up there𑁋”
“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “Trust me. I won’t let you go.”
For some reason, those words send a shiver up your spine𑁋it’s a strange feeling, almost said like a hushed promise. But with a hesitant smile and your eyes locked with his, you let your hand shakily meet his hand, and you marvel at the fact how it molds so perfectly with yours. Then he’s eager to pull you in the direction of the dance floor, your shared laughter mingling into the surrounding noise.
And from the corner of the room, Wonwoo notices the smile to your face as Mingyu drags you to the dance floor and disappear into the crowd of people. All he does is scoff quietly to himself, before downing the rest of his drink and letting the alcohol trail a path of fire down his throat. 
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taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm
fic taglist (open) ʚɞ send an ask, comment, or dm to be added !
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hanjisungsbiwife · 9 months
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killin’ me softly
(and sweetly)
(and gently)
jongho x reader
warnings: lotsa kissin lotsa love
a/n: ayo i’m back after like three weeks pls take my lil blurb reader and jongho are whipped and i will not be writing it any other way enjoyyyyy
(also idk if i proofread it misspelling or weird grammar is due to the fact that it is 2 am👍)
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“hey are you busy right now?” 
you say tentatively, quietly opening the door to jonghos hotel room. you spot him sitting at the desk by the window, tapping away on a laptop, sun shining perfectly onto his warm brown eyes. he turns to face you as you shut the door, a smile appearing on his tired face as he beckons you inside.
“oh, i’m so glad your here, i’m never too busy for you, don’t worry.” he says, his smile growing bigger as he spots your cheeks growing pink at his words.
“oh thank goodness, i missed you way too much” 
you say with a sigh as you make your way to his desk. jongho shuts the laptop and you wrap your arms around him while he stays seated, his face pressed into your warm tummy. he groans in contentment, the vibrations tickling you and making you chuckle at his neediness.
“god, love, i needed a hug so bad. the editor got sick? so i had to edit my own vlog? which was fun until i realized my camera had died halfway through, so i had to go back and film some more and then edit that and then the software logged me out and-“ jongho rambled away into your shirt as you stroked the soft hair on his head, humming in agreement in all the right places and gasping at all the things that got in the way of his progress. 
“i’m just pretty tired, yknow? i didn’t have much on my schedule today except editing but then that took way longer than i wanted and now im so tired…” jongho sighs once more, squeezing your waist with his arms, gazing up at you. you look down at him lovingly, admiring his pretty face, moving a stray hair out of his eyes. 
“well, i came to ask you if you wanted to go out for dinner with me, but it seems like you could use a nap instead.” you say with a soft smile, noting how his eyes droop at even the suggestion of extra rest. 
“no, no! we can go out! i can just grab some coffee and then maybe i’ll be okay?” jongho stands up as he talks, but immediately trips over the chair he just got out of, falling once more into your warm embrace, albeit a little clumsily. you chuckle as he wraps you up again, sighing and melting into you once more as he rests his head on top of yours. 
“jjong, i think you definitely deserve a nap. trust me, i wanna go out too, but i cant have you falling asleep in the restaurant.” you whisper into his chest. jongho chuckles at your jab at him, but finally-
“okay, okay, fine, we can stay in” jongho says. there is hesitance in his voice, but you know him well, and you know for certain that  all he needs is a little bit of sleep. but only a little.
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you and jongho had been cuddled up under the covers for what seemed like forever. you hadn’t been able to fall asleep, only dozing every once in a while. you hadn’t been nearly as tired as jongho, who had basically knocked out the minute he had found a comfy spot: right on top of you. he had tucked his face into your neck, you had started stroking his hair, and it was over for him. jongho wasn’t much of a snorer (at least not always) but you couldn’t help but smile at the little snuffles he let out here and there, occasionally shifting in his sleep, wrapping himself tighter around you.  
you suddenly realized during one of his snuffle-move around-go back to sleep moments that he hadn’t gone back to sleep.  his breathing was still slow and deep, but he was squirming around a bit, trying to get comfortable again. finally, he raised his head to gaze at you, his eyes swollen with sleep, his full cheeks sporting a pink blush. 
before you could even jokingly give him a little “good morning” greeting, jongho leaned in and pressed his lips to your own. you made a soft noise of surprise, but quickly forgot yourself in the sensations the kiss was providing. you moved your lips against his, breathing in his scent as the kiss grew more urgent. jongho lifted himself over you, placing his arms on the sides of your head as he continued his heavy kisses. his lips started to wander, teasingly trailing kisses and small licks down your jaw and onto your neck. before he could get any further, you grabbed his face gently, squishing his cheeks and making him face you. 
“why’d you stop me???” jongho whined, the pout on his sleepy face growing as you giggled at his vulnerable expression. you placed a small kiss on his pouted lips, but quickly drew away before he could get handsy again. 
“jongho, you’ve been awake for a while 20 seconds and you’re already so needy? what’s going on?” you say teasingly, grinning at his helpless expression. 
jongho blinks slowly at you as you keep smiling at him, his eyes still full of sleep. 
“jus’ wanna be with you.” he mumbles. 
oh man. 
that was it.
boy did he have a way with words.
“oh-thank you-“ you stutter out, very very flustered by his small comment.
he had barely spit out a coherent sentence and you were practically melting at his words. if there was one thing you absolutely loved about jongho, it was his romanticism. he didn’t even do it on purpose half the time, he was so honest about his love for you, he just couldn’t help it. heartfelt confessions out the wazoo were a staple in your relationship, and you never got tired of it. 
you let go of his face, a blush spreading across your own cheeks for what must have been the fourth time in a few hours. the affect that man had on you was atrocious. jongho kept his eyes on your own, studying your expression as he witnessed your pink cheeks turn red. he took that as a cue to lean in once more, peppering soft kisses all over your heated face, paying special attention to the tip of your nose and the corners of your lips. he teased you with quick, fleeting kisses before you grew impatient and smooshed his inviting mouth into your own. jongho immediately deepened the kiss, tilting his head to better access you. 
he kissed you slowly and sweetly, taking his time with you. his breath was steady and warm, and his body was heavenly lying on top of yours. after what seems like hours, he pulled away to breathe, making sure to keep his hands on you, stroking your warm cheeks with his gentle fingers, pressing his forehead onto your own. his lips find yours again in no time, and this time it never escalates. his lingering exhaustion is clear in the lazy kisses he gives you, but you’re not complaining. you were tired too, and while you both love the intimacy of sex, sometimes a lazy sleepy makeout was all the both of you wanted. 
you and jongho kiss for what feels like forever, reveling in the immense comfort that comes with being close with someone you love so dearly. you eventually wrap your arms back around him, and you feel his kisses grow more chaste as his sleepy body starts to rebel. finally, pulling away with a big sigh, jongho looks you in the eye.
“love?”
“yea, jjong?” you say, brushing a stray strand of soft brown hair out of his reddened face. 
“i think imma need sum more sleep mkay-”he whispers, his voice cracking slightly as a yawn cuts off his sentence. 
you smile softly, landing a kiss on the tip of his pretty nose. you almost giggle as his eyes start to droop again, but you withhold your teasing as you also begin to feel the affects of laying in bed for hours.
“that’s okay, jjong, i don’t mind. get all the rest you need.” you mumble softly, the affection basically oozing out of your voice. as if on cue, jongho gives you one more soft kiss and tucks his face back into your neck, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. you nuzzle your own face into jonghos warmth, snuffling slightly as his hair tickles your nose. his breaths even out in record time. 
and then begin the soft snores. 
you don’t mind, he does that sometimes if he’s had a particularly stressful work week. if anything, it’s endearing. and besides, you weren’t that tired. you could afford to be kept awake by your boyfriends adorable snores for a little while longer. 
especially if it meant you got to keep him in your arms.
anything for your choi jongho.
love of my life is what you mutter, smiling against him as you eventually drop off to sleep, your soft breaths synchronizing with his own. choi jongho, your comfort. 
choi jongho, 
your home.
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a/n #2: yea i did say his nose was pretty again i will not be taking criticism cus where’s the lie🤨
n-e way i hope you enjoyed<333
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hanjisungsbiwife · 9 months
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THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL WRITTEN BUT KNOW I AM LEGIT SOBBING
✿ ✿ 〞 voicemails with han on your wedding day
✰ pairings: bsf!han x fem!reader
✰ genre: angst, fluff if you squint and romance
✰ word count: 1.3k+ words
HAN | chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | felix | seungmin | jeongin
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one 𖨂
first off, i’m sorry i made you cry like that. i’m sorry that i intentionally hurt you even though i didn’t mean to. i guess it’s time to spill the beans, huh? it’s been what– like 6 years now? 6 years of constantly pining over you. 6 years of falling in love with every bit of you. and 6 years of watching you fall for several people and get your heart broken. i’ve seen it all. lived it all as well, right by your side just like always. it wasn’t easy of course, watching the love of your life kiss someone else, hug someone else or cry over stupid exes who didn’t deserve you. but i did my best to hold it in. but now . . . i don’t think i can. i love you so much, more than you’ve ever now and more than you ever will. your fiancé is lucky. he truly is. for being able to marry a girl like you in less than a few hours. and you must be wondering why i’m sending you these voicemails 3 hours before your wedding. well it’s because you don’t have your phone with you right now as you’re very much busy, which is a golden opportunity for me.
two 𖨂
i hate you. so so much. i hate you so much for making me feel this way. i hate you so much for running through my mind the entire day. i hate you so much for making me feel all excited and giddy whenever you smile at me, but your eyes. . . they have love. not the romantic one, the platonic one. and that’s what hurts me the most. i even thought of telling this to you earlier but i couldn’t. not when our friendship of 8 years was at stake. never. nothing is more precious than that. but sometimes i do wonder whether your heart used to beat fast when i stood close to you. or whether your cheeks used to feel warm when i touched you. did it ever happen to you? i guess not. how could you love a guy like me? you, who are literally the perfectionist and me who learnt from you. doesn’t match right? i wished it did. i truly wished it did.
three 𖨂
i never lost hope, you know? instead i clung onto it until the very end, which is today. i hoped for you to fall in love with me little by little. and even though you couldn’t reciprocate my love for you, i wish we tried. but i fall in love with you a little bit more day by day. and now my heart is swelling with immense sadness that it even hurts to laugh without letting out tears of pain. it hurts to see you smile knowing i’m not the main reason anymore. i’ve become a side one. and it hurts to see you so excited for your wedding. and i hate myself for that. i hate that i can’t even pretend to be happy for my best friend who finally found true love. best friend. that’s all i mean to you right? nothing more, nothing less. but i don’t blame you. i could never. so i hope he doesn’t hurt you ever. because i might not be sufficient for you whether it be now or 10 years later. just know that.
four 𖨂
as i stand wearing my tuxedo, i wonder how it would look to have your arm linked with mine. to have your eyes shining with joy, for me. but that can never happen, can it? i see the way you look at him. the way you talk about him. and when you’re angry at him, it hurts me even then. oh, how i wish i could be him. standing by your weeping side and wiping your tears. or perhaps, holding you in my arms under the moonlight. it sounds heavenly doesn’t it? at least it does for me. which is the exact reason why it isn’t real. and i can’t imagine what would happen after you hear these. just don’t hate me please? i beg you. it took me a lot of courage to say this. and i would die if i ever knew that you hate me. your man, he’s perfect in every way. i tried to find any flaw but there isn’t one. he’s madly in love with you too but not longer than me, try to beat that. he gifts you all his love and never his anger. he treats you like a delicate vase, if handled improperly, you might break. he engulfs you in his love and you can practically drown in his eyes with the amount of admiration it contains for you. all for you, my angel.
five 𖨂
i’m back, hiding in the bathroom as i speak. your wedding just ended– and i don’t think i could see you two kissing. i’m so sorry angel. so so sorry. i didn’t want to be that bad friend who falls in love and starts acting as a homewrecker. never. i’m so sorry for falling in love with you. if only i didn’t look at you while you were doing my makeup, this wouldn’t have happened. i danced with you although, and when you asked why i was getting emotional i could only smile with tears. this was the last time i held you like i loved you. the last time i twirled you, and the last time i caught you. because now, i’m throwing away that hope from my life. and i’m letting you go now, my love. i promise. i won’t ever try to love you again the way i did and i’ll punish myself if i ever do that once more.
six 𖨂
at times i even thought i don't want to love you anymore. you tore my heart out in the summer and tossed it aside with a carefree laugh and that crooked smile, before sauntering off to meet your new partner before classes began in the autumn. i don't want to flinch every time i hear your name escape someone’s mouth. i don't want to keep getting hurt every time a memory flashes in my mind like a blaring siren, a loop of playful moments and the moments where i fell deeper. i want to not care about you anymore. i want to be perfect strangers, but i couldn’t just not care when you knocked on my door at 4 am, drunk and a sobbing mess, i just took you in my arms. i held you for hours till the moon disappeared, replacing itself with brightness. not for me. not when you couldn’t even remember how i cared for you or how we went back to being best friends. maybe it was selfish of me to for the night knowing you saw my worth only in your drunk state. but it was enough for me. you were enough for me. and my heart shattered every time knowing i wasn’t.
seven 𖨂
i’m finally letting you free, from the love i had buried deep in my heart. i wish you a happy married life, my angel. and i’m sorry but i will be leaving tonight. i’m going away for a while. for good. and even though i have many excuses i won’t tell them to you. i need time. away from you. away from those feelings that keep bubbling out just by hearing your laughter. i know i’m late. very late in fact. but could you try and not hate me for this? please? it’ll be my last wish before i go. and now, suddenly, everything seems like a goodbye. the last dance, the last hug, the last smile, the last kiss on my cheek and the last moment where i add a full stop to this unrequited love of mine. congratulations angel. though i wished i could call you mine.
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hanjisungsbiwife · 9 months
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Omg🥺😭
Little Things - Scenario
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(Pictures are not mine, credits for the original owners)
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Non-idol! San x GN! reader
Genre: fluff, a little bit of angst
Tags/ warnings: established relationship; pure comfort, mentions of overthinking; implied insecure reader
WC: 708
N/A: This is my fic for San's birthday! I decided to twisted it a little bit, so it's reader's birthday instead! Let me know what you guys think 💕
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Ateez Masterlist
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It’s not surprising for a partner to want to do something special for their significant other, right?
When it’s for San, oh boy, don’t you go all out for him? A new game he has been eyeing for weeks, but he is unsure whether to buy because it’s too expensive and he didn’t finish the ones he has already? You got it. A new bag he loved very much, but didn’t get because he thought he didn’t need it at the moment? It’s his! And you know that you don’t have to, but how can you not when everything else seems too small for him?
He would truly be happy with anything, ANY-THING you give him with just a little bit of thoughtfulness. Oh, did you remember when he told you that the thing that he loved very much broke all of sudden and gave him another one? Or you got him that thing he mentioned like six months ago and he himself forgot about it? He’s the happiest man alive. He lives for your attention, care and thoughtfulness and you’re more than happy to do that on a daily basis, just as much as he does for you.
So what’s the problem with him going all out for you? San didn’t get it, but what reason does he have to question you on your preferences? There was none until now.
“Are you sure?”, San asked you as he took your right hand in his much warmer one.
“Yes, babe. It’s okay, I don’t real-”
You didn’t really need anything, nothing was broken or in need of replacement. That was the only case where you let San buy something for you in the past, so he got used to asking you for what you wanted, but for your birthday there was nothing.
“I don’t really have anything in mind for a present and I’m more than happy having you around this year, what else do I need?”, you smiled at him and he did smile back for a moment, until his face fell into a frown.
Sure, his heart was fluttering because of those beautiful words BUT there was something more important than that in his mind.
“Honey”, San said and paused for a moment, while caressing your hand with his thumb.
You felt the words hitting the top of your hair, his lips resting at the top of your head and you couldn’t help yourself, you shivered.
His deep voice saying that word specifically always did something to you and he knew it. You knew his smile was growing on his stupid cute face and you mumbled to yourself on his covered chest.
“Why did you never let me buy you real gifts?”, he whispered as he held you tighter in his arms.
You held your breath.
“It’s always something for the house or for the both of us, but never something for you only, because you want to”.
It was stupid. You knew it already, but those thoughts never leave you, those words from your parents never leave you.
“I like to do it for you”, you whispered back.
“Do you think I wouldn’t like to do it for you? Hm?”, his voice was so soft and low, it was a little secret in that little bubble you created for yourselves.
He always says he does want to give you the whole world, but what if you ask for too much? What if what you want it’s so superficial and unnecessary and he thinks you’re ungrateful? What if he thinks you don’t appreciate him? What i-
“Love, you’re overthinking again”, he said and moved around a little to grab both of your hands.
“I don’t like it when you spend too much money on me”, you said as you tried to keep yourself together.
It was a half truth, you couldn’t lie to him, but even then, you couldn’t look up to him.
He didn’t know the why, but he knew that you needed more time and space to open up to him. So that day, he just held you tighter and promised to himself he would get you something you loved with all of your heart this year and all the years after that too.
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hanjisungsbiwife · 9 months
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MEET UP FOR A COFFEE AND A SMILE | C.S
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pairing ⟡ bf .ᐟ choi san x gn .ᐟ reader
synopsis ⟡ feeling overwhelmed because of stressful events and built up emotions, your thoughtful boyfriend wants to melt away all of your problems in his own, sweet way.
genre ⟡ fluff, romance, established relationship
warnings ⟡ mentions of dealing with anxiety attack; juuust a sickening amount of fluff because san is just too cute to handle and i just wanna eat him
wc ⟡ 2.1k
author's note ⟡ my first ever written scenario wooo !! got suddenly struck by a spark of inspiration while listening to one day at a time, that song feels like the warmest hug :,) hope you'll enjoy it!!
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letting out a loud sigh, you push the entry's door closed with your hip, too focused on untying your shoelace to bother. today felt like a fever dream, emphasis on 'fever', because you feel like you're dealing with one. plus a terrible, terrible headache, the main cause of your deep frowning.
a groan escapes your lips soon as you straighten your back, the sudden movement making you dizzy. you close your eyes and stay still for a brief moment, your mind being kind enough to remind you of the anxiety attack you dealt with today.
besides your part time job that has been stressing you a lot lately, the cherry on top is the finals season. you had to split yourself in half so you could manage your time for both studying and working. you told yourself that you can do it, your san also has been providing you with his encouraging words, love and attention.
yet today felt like you couldn't bear that struggle anymore, that insufferable weight on your shoulders, which had you locked in your job's place bathroom. you didn't call san. no, you didn't want to worry him, especially knowing he has a busy schedule today.
after a few 'you're fine' and 'it's okay' whispered to yourself and trying to regulate your quick breathing and heart palpitations while feeling fatigued and uneasy, it seemed that you calmed down a bit. but your whole body has been feeling weak the rest of the evening. fortunately, you're home now. away from your job. and you only have one more exam left.
"everything is going to be alright by the end of all of this, agi, i promise you this. you're doing great. you have me, i got you."
his healing words echo in your ears like sweet honey and you feel the corners of your lips rise and your body slowly relax after you threw yourself on the couch with a loud thump. as if he is connected to you and what's going on inside your mind, you hear your phone ring. you can't help but let out a soft chuckle as you answer the call.
"how do you manage to always do it, sannie?" you sigh, closing your eyes in content.
you hear some fidgeting and a car passing by, signs that he just ended his rehearsals, then his usual, sweet tone but with a tint of worry in his voice.
"jagi? do what? are you okay?" you swear you can see his concerned expression just from the way he asked you those questions.
"i'm... yeah. i mean, i feel better now, that's what matters," you mutter, absently playing with the hem of your shirt.
a slight pause before san speaks again, this time clearly distraught. "oh, no, what happened aegiya? want me to come over?"
his cute way of saying baby makes your heart flutter. you instantly shake your head in denial even if he can't see you.
"no, love, it's late and you probably just finished the dancing practice. that and also the fact that i barely have the energy to talk or exist... i'm so tired, sannie." your drowsy voice made san pout. his chest was suddenly feeling heavy and all he wanted to do was to offer a safe space for you to let everything out. to have his arms tightly wrapped around you, to pamper your face with his affectionate kisses. to have your head laying on his shoulder or chest just the way you like it, because his warmth and presence feel like home to you.
but he despises pushing your boundaries. even if he believes the best thing to do right now is being next to you, it does not match with your needs at the moment. and he will always listen to you over his distressed state and his anxious overthinking. what is truly important to both of you is, at the end of the day, to find each other's tender embrace, to be ready to face the worst of this world together.
with a low exhale, san gets inside the car, in the backseat while waiting for mingi.
"i know, angel, i know you are," his comforting voice and words brought tears to your eyes. "okay, i will let you rest. we don't have to talk about this now. but can you promise me one thing? one small, veeery tiny thing?"
you hum, already half asleep on the couch, still dressed in work clothes.
"allow me to be your anchor tomorrow morning. it's finally the weekend, i can come by your place and help you relax, even just a bit. this way we both can rest tonight and start tomorrow fresh."
oh, that's a bold lie. he will definitely not sleep at all because of how worried he is for you. absolutely not. no matter how tight he will hug the plushie you bought him a few months ago, imagining that it's you he's cuddling. but that's a problem for future san.
"mm, of course baby. thank you... for being so understanding," you let out a small yawn. "please rest, yeah?"
"i love you."
"i love you."
both of you speak in the same time and can't help but giggle together, san feeling rather shy at the other end of the call. after a few seconds, he starts humming for you, his feathery singing voice lulling you to sleep. he rests his cheek in his palm while looking at the dark sky through the car's window. a few stars are visible, shining in a way that comforts him. because he is relieved you are at least safe and sound at home and under the same sky as him. and while attentively listening to your steady breathing, he knows everything will be okay. he will always reassure you of that.
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the early morning finds you in a deep, peaceful slumber. lucky for you because you didn't have to move, san had a copy of your apartment's keys and used them to get inside as quietly as possible. your catlike curled up position made him close his eyes shut in an almost failed attempt to control his squeal because of how adorable you look. taking off his hood and not leaving you out of his sight, he silently rests himself on the end support of the couch.
you softly huff and open your eyes. a familiar, gentle touch on your forehead makes you shift positions, turning your body towards your lover, arms clinging onto him like you haven't seen him in ages. you hear san's endearing chuckle as your head finds his lap, your cheek nuzzling against the soft material of his sweatpants.
"good morning, jagi," he whispers, leaning over so he can offer you a tender kiss on your temple.
"hi, 'morning," you purr, voice hoarse because you just woke up. "what time is it?"
you manage to move closer to him, hugging his waist and san felt like melting on the spot, right there and then. you are indeed very dangerous for his heart, yet he never wants you to stop causing him so many palpitations.
"it's still early, don't worry. i just couldn't bear leaving you alone anymore," he admits with his well known pout, which causes your lips to curl up into a lazy smile. as much as you love how clingy san is, you appreciate that he offered you the space you needed last night. you knew he wanted to desperately rush here, but he controlled himself. and that makes you forever grateful for his caring nature, putting you above everything.
"thanks for last night, really," you murmur, face resting against the pocket of his hoodie.
"shh, of course. it's the least i could do for you. i'll always try my best to be there when you need me. how are you feeling? and be honest, don't lie to me agi," he gently scolds you, knowing you tend to pretend that everything is fine in order not to bother him with your problems. but you promised to each other to try being more open about this, both you and san valuing communication the most.
"i really, really needed this sleep," you choose to tell him about yesterday's happening. "i had an anxiety attack at work, things just got too much for me to handle."
san looks down at you and hums, nodding in an understanding manner as his hand caresses the top of your head. his first, impulsive reaction would be to get all upset and to question you about your lack of calls regarding him, but how was that supposed to help you? the least thing he wants is to make you feel bad or invalidate your feelings. san is more than sure you are capable of handling yourself, you have shown him countless of times how strong and admirable you are. he looks up to you, always. but it's normal to feel helpless sometimes, and he wants to be your comforting mountain, for you to rely on him, to help you see the light at the end of the tunnel when darkness seems to take over. seeing you without that sparkle in your eyes crushes him, aches him more than any physical pain can.
"i'm relieved you're feeling better now. i am so, so proud of you for calming yourself down," it's all he softly says and cuddles you closer in his strong arms. while rocking both of you from left to right, he tells you about his morning plans, which includes you. "i was thinking of bringing back that pretty smile of yours that i aaaabsolutely adore with a cup of coffee, what do you say, hm? we can go get some breakfast as well. then we can spend the rest of the day however you want. how's that sound, jagiya?"
"very, very nice," you reply, smiling at the thought of enjoying san's presence and spending time with him for a whole day.
"ah, perfect then," he nods happily, patting your hip. "when was the last time you ate?"
you tuck your lips. the sudden silence makes san dramatically gasp, still waiting for a response.
you exhale, trying to remember. "yesterday...? yesterday at lunch." you see him with the corner of your eye starting to shake his head, all sulky.
"no, no, my dearest right here needs to eat," he says and immediately begins to cover your face with his soft kisses, receiving a lot of giggles from you. his warm, minty breath tickles your cheeks and makes you squirm in his hug, trying to escape from his pampering but secretly enjoying it. his dimpled smile softens you, and you find yourself getting up with a sudden urge to kiss him.
with your hands gently cupping his face, you lean forward and press your lips against his, the unforeseen action causing san's eyes to widen before allowing himself to get weak under your loving touch. his arms tighten around your waist as he shyly kisses you back, suppressing a lot of happy giggles while smiling in between the kisses.
"i brought," peck "you," peck "one of my hoodies," one last final peck from you and this time san lets out the cutest laugh, his eyes closing and turning into that shape you love to see. "you're so cute, jagi."
"i think we both know who is the cuter one here," you confidently say, not holding yourself back from kissing the tip of his nose. he is quick to reciprocate your affection, copying your gesture which made your nose scrunch and his heart flip.
"mhm, you're right, it's you!" he gives you a charming wink then gets up from the couch when he senses that you are about to contradict him. gazing at you from this angle, with your messy bed hair, clearly not in your most comfortable clothing, eyes still a bit drowsy but with that peaceful, small smile on your lips, makes everything worth fighting for. san has so much love for you and will never get tired of showering you in it, because you deserve it.
noticing a cardboard box on your kitchen counter with two cups of coffee in it, your hopeful question pulls him out of the trance he found himself into. "you got the coffee already?"
your lover offers you a compassionate smile as he nods his head. "your favorite."
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