I Know Hwa's Heart Fluttered Hearing That - Tumblr Posts

"It was as if you deemed yourselves either not worthy of time spent, or you never felt the need nor the appeal of caring. And if you were to be acting in the role of his wife, the last thing Seonghwa wanted to see was you masking a perpetual misery" this just makes me feel so fluffy 🥺🥺 hwa is so amazing and thoughtful my hearttttt

“The love… of your life?” Seonghwa repeated cautiously" oh my hwa 🤣😭 this whole interaction made me laugh and the coffee monster!!

i just know hwa smelt good just reading that description 😭 (even san said he smells best hehe)

“Ah yes, apologies. Park Seonghwa. Department not found.” hes so cute and hilarious omg i love this man 😭😭

Family for Hire (Ch.4)

(family for hire ml) (join series and/or permanent taglist!)

☀️ pairing: single dad!seonghwa x business woman!reader ☀️ genre: fluff, romance, family, domestic, fake marriage, slice of life ☀️ ch. summary: settling into a new routine came with its challenges, of course, but you expected that. what you did not expect, however, was for seonghwa to completely derail your plans for quietude. ☀️ ch. wordcount: 4.7k ☀️ ch. warnings/tags: language, questionably edited, hwa being one jealous boy, a ton of coffee, implied missing breakfast, food/eating, a wild woo and yeo appear, rash decisions, implied lack of sleep, let me know if anything else! ☀️ perma-taglist: @doom-fics @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe (can't be tagged: @ate-ez) ☀️ a/n: in anticipation of seonghwa day, hope you enjoy some more single dad hwa~ much love, any reblogs, comments, thoughts, feelings appreciated! apologies if the chapter is chaos, but hey... croissants and coffee!

Chapter 4: When Croissants Fly

Had you known that if you were to make it into the office on time and keep your promise of taking a certain kid to kindergarten, you would have to get up at hell o’clock in the morning – with hell being anything before six, you would have, respectfully, just left the conversation with standard goodbyes and not offered something out of the blue. Nothing could prepare you for the sheer amount of noise that a child could produce that early, when you were used to having an apartment to yourself, a nice, steaming, hot cup of coffee, and the human right to have fifteen minutes of sheer panic as you would realise if you did not hurry up you would be late. But even that panic was independent. You were not holding anyone up, no one was holding you up. You did not have to answer to anyone, nor did you have to be sitting there, in the driver’s seat, praying for a certain someone to ‘just… chill… out…”. Even though it had already been a three, now four days of you driving back and forth, back and forth like an expensive school bus, you still had a lot to get used to.

You glanced back as you stopped at a red light, catching Nari in deep conversation with her father about some drawing homework – something you were suddenly very jealous of. Why couldn’t adults have drawing homework instead of taxes? But nonetheless, no matter how simple the conversation was, each syllable was like a bass boosted hit of a dubstep remix in your cranium. Biting your lip, you attempted to focus on the sound of traffic outside and wondered if your fellow passengers would quieten down if you were to turn on the radio. You caught yourself hovering between being glad to be on better terms with Seonghwa and mini-Co, and wanting to let out an elaborate string of curses that had accumulated since your coffee machine broke this morning, and you, being a silly optimist when it came to appliances, had no alternative of source of energy fuel. This discomfort was apparently obvious enough for Seonghwa to pick up on it, and at the next red light you hear him tell his daughter to wait a second, and call out to you:

“Y/N, are you okay?” the note of concern in his voice made your heart ache and guilt for being so inwardly irritated spread through you. Peering out at the concrete jungle, you tapped the arm rest a couple of times, pondering the question before asking one back.

“What, do I look unequivocally dubious?” you tried to remain as neutral as possible, since Nari did not need to know what passive aggressive behaviour was, so early in her childhood, however Seonghwa was too finely attuned to emotional landscapes for your own good. Perhaps he could even give Yunho a run for his hard-earned ‘through thick and thin’ friend money.

“Oh, no! Not at all, it’s just that, um, I mean, this routine is quite new and must be very troublesome, so-”

“Do I look tired, is that it?” you interrupted gently, Seonghwa’s obvious beating around the bush turning out to be rather amusing, alleviating some of the headache that the day had been providing you with so far. It was hard not to notice how his upper body stiffened as he stared back at you through the rear-view mirror. Deciding to not keep up the limbo of whether he offended you or not, you cracked the brightest smile you could muster, and winked, “I know I do, don’t worry. I am an early bird by caffeine, and the love of my life broke today.”

“The love… of your life?” Seonghwa repeated cautiously, acutely reactive to your particular choice of words. Choosing to not mention how he leaned closer to you, with even his daughter shooting him an inquisitive glance, you simply elaborated on your morning ordeal.

Amidst your dramatic recounting of your battle with the ‘coffee monster’ you had made Nari burst into a fit of giggles, which was a win in your unpaid parenting work experience, though judging by Seonghwa’s unchanging pained expression, something about the moral of the story seemed to not quite fit the unspoken fairy tale standard, and as such, you trailed off into an awkward silence.

“Did you have… breakfast, at least?”

“Sure?”

“Okay, then what was it?”

Somehow in that moment you felt as though you were not supposed to be sat in the driver's seat, and instead in a detention, or in a dim corner for a long timeout. One step away, and you could almost hear Seonghwa saying ‘I promise I am not going to get mad at you if you just tell me the truth’, a notion that made you shudder. What if, unbeknownst to you, he was the kind of parent that would snap too? There was no guarantee that he wasn’t. Many a times you had seen perfectly happy and peaceful kids coming home to… much less than happy families, so if he was going to shout at you, you should just take it. Your grip on the steering wheel grew tighter and you bit your lower lip. The thud of your heartbeat in your temples returned as you pressed on the gas pedal and accelerated, only a couple of blocks away from Nari’s kindergarten already.

“Good stuff.” You brushed the interrogation off, not because you were uncomfortable with your choices, but because it was more than likely that Seonghwa would be, and as such, you ran the risk of exploding in a defensive mode and exposing Nari to a not so pleasant argument. And you were not about that life. You were not into recycling old experiences into new hurt.

Fortunately, Seonghwa got the hint instantly. Like father, like daughter – Nari, upon seeing the young man’s reaction, took it as a sign that she needed to stay put and reserve playtime for later. The rest of the journey crawling through the somnolent sunlit streets was spent in complete silence. You watched and waved back to a once again excited little gremlin, as she hopped out of the car and shouted for her dad to stay back, because she was ‘grown’ and ‘independent’. He had inadvertently shot you a glance upon hearing the words, enjoying the game of pretending that Nari had taken after you a bit too much. You had not looked back, and even how you were supposedly following his precious girl’s run to the front doors had transformed into a thousand-yard stare. Once again, you were in your own world.

“Hey, mind if I move up front?” he pointed at the seat and tilted his head, jolting you out of your turbulent musings.

“Yeah, sure thing. Okay.”

At this proximity, you swore you could catch a hint of his perfume. The vanilla, floral notes and something you could not quite put a finger on was very memorable, and very him. You took a deep inhale and leaned back into the driver’s seat, ready to commence the journey back.

“You can… actually you know what you can drop me off in the business district!” a weight off your shoulders as he suddenly changed your plans for a smoother ride. Masking your relief, you asked for the handsome man to confirm.

“Are you sure? You will need to switch lines… once if I am not mistaken?”

As he ran a hand through his hair, fighting a pesky strand that was threatening to get into his eye, you took the opportunity to study him. Black shirt with a just barely visible patterned design, and the top button undone to reveal three silver necklaces, carefully selected to complement one another. Black trousers, a loose straight cut, falling onto the chunky black and white converse sneakers. And again, that damn perfume that you could not explain to your brain. You did not want to be creepy, but tilted your head towards the man to try and figure out what that mysterious note was. At least you had your question going for you, and your leaning in could be interpreted simply as interest in his response.

“True, but I have some business, ha-ha wow apt, to attend to in the area so…” did not sound like it, but you were not about to argue just when you were in hot water about your morning.

“Okay.” You rolled out of parking, and drove back out onto the street, now bound for your not quite beloved office.

Ever since Monday, you had cemented yourself as one of the first to arrive in the office, and almost always the first to arrive within your assigned team, which had definitely left a good impression on your manager who openly praised you for being so diligent – much to the dismay of the co-workers who enjoyed gossiping about you. But you could not care less since you and Yunho did the exact thing except in reverse. There were some benefits to waking up at hell o’clock, even if it came with socio-gastronomical sacrifices. Which apparently, Seonghwa made his mission to reverse as he sharply turned his head and made a pointing gesture.

“And I’ll buy you breakfast. Y/N don’t you dare argue with me I have access to some dark magic.”

“Like?”

“Here comes the airplane. Wildly effective. So, if you decline then do expect a projectile croissant.” He threatened, stifling a chuckle.

“What if I want to see a croissant fly?” you countered, shaking your head and gleaming, the greyness of the streets which you navigated not appearing so soul draining anymore.

“Well then I will organise that just for you.”

Seonghwa was not sure what had gotten into him, but his desire to step in and help was nearly unbearable. You were every bit a business person, rushing and dedicating your life to your career even if you did have friends and family. But as he knew from having been working together with someone who had an awfully similar mindset to you, such people often forgot to take care of themselves. It was as if you deemed yourselves either not worthy of time spent, or you never felt the need nor the appeal of caring. And if you were to be acting in the role of his wife, the last thing Seonghwa wanted to see was you masking a perpetual misery. You were striving for best behaviour when you were interacting with Nari, showing a playful and easy-going side of you that he thought that he would never get the chance to see again, and generally were working hard to impress his daughter. But it seemed that you needed a push in the right direction of how exactly you could make him even happier than he already was.

You were dangerously attractive when you were driving, he concluded. The unwavering focus on the road, paired with reflexive movements as you reacted to what you had probably predicted ages in advance was making Seonghwa unreasonably flustered, and he had to force himself to look at the lines on the road instead of constantly looking at you. You had been one of the few people in university who had been a ‘designated driver’, along with your closest friend through the years, since most of the others dismissed the skill as something for a ‘later time’ and not immediately important for studies. It had amused him when these same people would then beg for you to effectively become a carpooling service. Even more amusing was that you had always had the guts to decline.

Now, your driving style had gotten even more refined, more natural. It was clear that you had long passed the stage of novice driver, too many miles and experiences under your wheels to still be considered a learner. Cruising through the city, cruising through life. Seonghwa doubted that you would remember, but there had been one time when you two had been sat, just like this, listening to some indie music that you had said helped you focus. But now the silence you shared was heavier, the impact of every action having the potential to cause greater damage. As such, he kept the memory to himself, instead drifting into the pleasant rumble of the car engine.

Right when the sun washed over Seonghwa’s side of the car after having hopped out from behind a skyscraper, forcing him to flip open the visor, it hit you. Coffee. Of course that last note had to be coffee.

With a croissant in one hand an a steaming takeaway cup of coffee in the other, mother goose in the form of a cheery Seonghwa ushered you towards your office, wishing you a good day at least twice, while you kept on trying to explain the best way to get to the metro station as, clearly, he had not planned his ‘business’ out in the slightest.

If you had been aware that his business was to make sure you had at least some form of nourishment and perked up to a satisfactory level, you would have probably thrown hands, so the young man had to resort to being cryptic, rocking on his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets as he said one last goodbye to you and followed your form as you entered your building, crossed a large reception area, passed some security turnstiles and finally, were swallowed by an elevator. So this was how this life was.

He closed his eyes and listened to the industrial noise. The whirring of cars all around him, construction of a new residential complex, designed not for aesthetic purposes, but to eventually raise the land price, the chatter of people who made the financial world, and as such the world itself turn, the whistling of a strong breeze that hit the top floors, zooming past antennae, wiring and air conditioning exhausts. A beautiful, cold world that he had previously imagined himself in. Seonghwa peeked out once again to take in the surroundings: the glossy windows, the sleek modern architecture and abstract expressionist sculptures installed in miniature street squares. Funny how, as he had seen you enter one of the many ant houses, a sense of clarity washed over him. This was your habitat. Your home. Not his. And he should not beat himself up over it. Especially when you were so much more passionate about it, and as such so much more deserving of the best space here.

You were there, behind one of the many windows, working hard for success. And now, he was part of that strenuous operation, at least by a fraction. That was what he could do, and how he could contribute. The possibility of you and him collaborating in enviable synchronicity was an exciting prospect, now that he could feel the space in which you worked. He could handle his tasks, you could handle yours – the domestic daydreaming left him breathless as he began to amble in a random direction, not taking his eyes off the bright blue sky.

Except his blissful state of ideation did not last long enough for him to plot as far as he would like. Two men in what had to be designer office wear were standing next to him at a pedestrian crossing, waiting for the light to turn green. But that in itself was harmless. It was the fact that the shorter of the two, the one who was explaining something very animatedly to his colleague, practically painting a scene with his hands, suddenly mentioned your name – each syllable resounding like a gunshot.

Could it be someone else? Maybe there was another Y/N out there, in this same district – there were thousands of people in these offices, so the chances were definitely not zero. But as Seonghwa discreetly listened in, it became clearer and clearer – these were your colleagues, and they were talking about you. And in a way that set off every single alarm bell in Seonghwa’s totally mission-focused brain.

“Look Yeo, I’m telling you she is super cute. And I don’t give me that look. So what if she agreed to a meeting only on Friday? It doesn’t mean you have zero chance.”

Sure you do. Seonghwa mentally responded, but furrowed his brows as he realised that he was being protective of someone who was not actually his someone, but a fake someone who, in reality, he was conducting questionable business with. Technically, that meant that you could date in secret – as long as it was hidden from the eyes of your superiors. Would you do it? There wasn’t exactly any infidelity to speak of if you did, since he was just an old college friend and a complicated present social tie-up. No. No you couldn’t. This kind of connection would risk your promotion, wouldn’t it? Whatever these fiends were plotting could very well ruin your career, and he, acting in the role of your husband, had to think of a strategy to put a stop to this.

“It just means that she is a busy woman, on her grind, achieving and thriving – just your type, isn’t that right?” the enthusiastic man who, much like Seonghwa, was dressed head to toe in black, and sported a long parted fringe that framed his beaming face, continued his encouragements. Except the mention of types, he was right, at least. You were busy. Too busy to consider them, so they should make their damn exit.

The stubborn light was still red as cars continued to dash past the trio. The man by the name of Yeo, which Seonghwa assumed was an abbreviation or a nickname, was good looking enough for him to be irritated. A muscular physique, with perfect skin and impeccably styled locks that highlighted his features that looked to have been sculpted by some aesthetic deities… yes, this man had to disappear out of yours and Seonghwa’s shared life immediately. Seonghwa did not need a man he ‘did not have to worry about’ right there in the same office space as you.

“Mm, right.”

A man of few words, huh? Maybe that was his problem. Then there was a chance that you would drop him fast as lightning – you liked your philosophical discussions, always did and if he could not formulate an opinion, he was automatically out of the game-

“But I do not wish to be a burden for her, Wooyoung. As much as I admire and respect her, I am only a slot in her timetable at the moment. And whilst I appreciate your support, we should remain realistic and pace ourselves.”

Shit. His voice was deep and dependable. And he had fantastic rhythm to his speech. Uh oh. Seonghwa suddenly wished that he was still in the café with you, and had, instead of letting you go to have the strong double shot of bitterness at your desk, insisted that you spent some more time together. Then he would not hear this atrocity, and since the café was not far from the building, they might have detected you in the shop front window.  Would have been a win-win situation. Alas, this Yeo, and his equally ambitious friend Wooyoung had to be combatted in more creative ways.

Seonghwa’s hands moved on their own accord as he took out his mobile phone, scrolling to the contact he had saved as ‘wife’, with not one but two upwards graph emojis as an ode to your job, and clicking the call button. As he heard you answer with a cautious, whispered hello and an elaboration that he should wait a second as you moved to a conference room, the initial wave of panic subsided and he relaxed into your tone.

“What is it, Hwa?” if only he could loop how you said his nickname and listen to it whenever he wanted… no, he must remain focused.

“Hey, Y/N!” he purposefully spoke louder, spotting in his peripherals that he had caught the attention of the duo. Their conversation had lulled, and they were pretending to be looking at the light to cross, but in reality, were tuning their imaginary antennae to pick up more of the conversation.

“Yes, ‘tis me. And we literally just spoke, what’s up?” he heard a sliding of a door, and the ambiance changing to that of a closed space, giving your voice more space to bloom and show its colour. Seonghwa smiled, stalling a bit before picking up a simple conversation topic, but pointing towards a mock level of intimacy that a certain Yeo should never reach.

“How’s the breakfast?” he refrained from chuckling as he saw Wooyoung appear particularly bewildered.

“Honestly it was exactly what I needed right now, I am already feeling so much better. Thank you for it, and for treating me, really.”

“Oh, not a problem at all! Anything for you.” Even though he inwardly cringed at the phrase, it seemed to have a desired effect on his audience who exchanged confused glances. At the same time, you moved the phone away from you and snorted in laughter.

“You sound so awkward right now what the hell? You good?” he needed to think fast. How could he avoid saying that he was ‘overstepping boundaries and barely a week into a fake relationship was acting lowkey possessive of you to the point where he felt the need to assert dominance over people who simply mentioned you’? That was right. What was going to annoy you enough to let go of his questionable behaviour?

“Uhm… well, could you point me in the direction of the metro again?” Bingo. The groan that you let out, and undoubtedly followed by a rolling of the eyes, was enough for him to confirm that you fully bought the little fib. He swore he heard that same man, Wooyoung, scoff, while Yeo remained suspiciously quiet.

“Are you kidding me? I literally just explained that from the café, you take a right, and then-”

“Ah, a right… so that’s where the problem is…” he continued, intentionally adding sprinklings of cluelessness to his act.

“You can’t be serious… Park Seonghwa where are you?” strict, but adorably concerned for his wellbeing, you asked.

“At a crossing.”

“What crossing?”

“There is a fancy fountain on the other side of the street.”

“You’re there? Damn, you know what, stay put, I will walk you to the station seeing as you are directionally challenged.” And with that, he could make out the sound of footsteps on a carpeted floor, a rustling as you probably pressed the phone to your shirt, distant ‘I’ll be back in a bit’ and, in a matter of moments, clicking and a much stronger echo to each sound.

“I’ll take that label and wear it with pride, Y/N. Then, see you soon, yeah?”

“Uh-huh, oh directionally challenged man. I’ll be there in five. Stay put and don’t get lost in the square please. Like, find a bench or something and don’t move.” A ding of an elevator. You ended the call. And now, each stride like that of a victor in a ruthless battle, he overtook the two men who were not so discreetly gawking at him, with the goal of finding some bench in the square to sit on and await your arrival.

Seonghwa thought that his performance was over, and relaxed into the seat that he had stumbled upon: partially in the shade of a green maple, but still welcoming some of the more amiable sun rays. But little did he know that, instead of this being an epilogue to the indirect interaction with your colleagues that threatened his pride, he had just inadvertently completed a tutorial, and now was in for a game of a lifetime.

“Uhm, excuse me? Pardon for my very rude behaviour, but I believe I overheard you mentioning a certain Y/N that works around here?”

Seonghwa raised his head, which had previously been resting on the back of the bench, only to discover that the two men he had perceived as a threat to his status, in particular that Greek statue in the form of Yeo, were standing right in front of him, expectant.

“Yes… I did indeed. And who are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Ah, before we introduce ourselves, would you confirm if this is L/N Y/N you were talking to?”

“…Yes?” Seonghwa stood up, in a last-minute effort to be polite towards the gentlemen, who only a few minutes ago, he wanted to erase from the planet, or at least from your plans. They accepted the gesture and gave him space.

The sun was beating down on Seonghwa more aggressively than before, making him wonder whether this was due to it actually getting hotter, or because he was more and more enticed by the idea of the ground opening up beneath him and letting him exit the conversation.  

“Right, sorry for the suddenness. It’s just that we are her colleagues. Well, from different departments but still. I am Jung Wooyoung. Human Resources.” A bow, another bow. Wooyoung did not look too pleased, clearly reading his every micromovement.

“I’m Kang Yeosang. Cybersecurity.” Passive enough, neither of the two cared enough to try and be threatening.

“And you?” Wooyoung inquired, raising his eyebrows.

“Ah yes, apologies. Park Seonghwa. Department not found.”

Polite chuckles. Dead silence. Wind whistling. Where were you? The three fumbled for anything to say, finally settling on the weather, and then moving towards neutral work topics. Evidently, Wooyoung had a lot more to say, and with each passing minute, the coil on which said questions were contained was being wound tighter and tighter, until it was ready to damn near detonate.

“What is this gang meet up, huh?” finally, you appeared from behind a tall hedge, your work pass hanging around your neck from a lanyard, swaying with each step you took. Once you approached the group, you looked at each member of the trio, pausing when you saw Yeosang.

“Ah hello! You must be Yeosang, right? I guess we are meeting sooner than expected.” Chuckling in pure corporate, you nodded in greeting.

“Indeed, we are. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“So, Y/N, care to explain… this mister Seonghwa?” Wooyoung interjected, his curiosity getting the best of him.

This was deeply disconcerting, you concluded. There was an element to this ordeal that you were missing, and this element was crucial to understanding how Wooyoung was going to proceed. He was smart, perceptive. You could even dare to say ‘cunning’. And it was apparent that he had caught onto something, and was not going to let go until everything came to light. You bit the inside of your cheek as you glanced at Seonghwa, who was doing everything in his power to avoid eye contact. There was one clean way out, and one that was inevitably going to make you, and the man in front of you snowball into something only fate could decide the outcome of. While chances were slim, nevertheless you took the first option…

“Well, you already got to know one another. I’d say that’s enough. Now, I need to take this man to the metro so if you don’t mind, we will be heading over yonder-” …only for it to fail miserably as Wooyoung saw through you.

“Oh no, no, like… who is this? A friend? A boyfriend? I need details, you are having breakfast and stuff together… who is he?”

If looks could kill, then you would be a fake widow. It did not take much brain power to figure out that the conversation you had over the phone had been staged for whatever reason. And now, you were in a mess where your little sitcom for a promotion might shut down… unless you committed. Fully. Wooyoung was staring you down. Yeosang had one eyebrow raised and arms crossed, judging. And Seonghwa was only a few levels away from impersonating Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’. To hell with all of this. Deep breath in. Breath out.

“My husband.”