#husband!salesman

[heyysteven]

I love, I love, I love

Summary: A bunch of Husband!salesman headcannons

Warnings: Brief mentions of death and Fluff :))

Husband!salesman who just loves to be the little spoon, he absolutely loves the feeling of resting his head on your chest as you caress his hair talking about the details of your day. He didn't mind being the big spoon either. He just loves any reason to be wrapped around you really.

Husband!salesman who could hear you talk for the rest of his hours. Tell him about the book you just finished reading, tell him about the new recipe you wanted to try, tell him about new gossip at work. He would listen patiently and ask questions wherever he got confused.

Husband!salesman who texted you every two hours. Did you reach your office safely? I’m eating the sandwich you packed! Did you have your lunch? Any updates on the new gossip? Will reach home in twenty minutes;)) Do you want anything from the grocery store? Got you donuts just in case.

Husband!salesman who would take pictures of every sunset, every animal, every flower and send them to you because they reminded him of you and how you would have taken pictures if you were with him.

Husband!salesman who would buy you a huge bouquet of flowers before every date night, conveying different messages using the language of flowers. Last time he got home one full of red tulips and sunflowers (because his passion for you ran murderously deep silly!).

Husband!salesman who planned every date night down to the minute. He would book the reservations for that cuisine you once mentioned you wanted to try. He would whistle as soon as you step out the room in your evening dress, twirl you by your hand and ask for the n’th time how he got so lucky (would definitely be disappointed if you wore something without back zips). He would always be the perfect gentleman for you; right from driving you, opening the doors, pulling your chairs, all you had to do was shut your brain and enjoy the evening.

Husband!salesman who always tried matching his tie to the color of your dress.

Husband!salesman who loved holding hands more than life itself. He would love feeling the cold metal of your wedding ring every time you locked your fingers. He would walk around with the most proud smile ever on his face, softly swinging your intertwined fingers with each step.

Husband!salesman who could never say no to you. He was born with a lot of impressive abilities and strategic skills. Murdering someone with a fork? Easy! Selling people the idea of getting rich by playing a bunch of game? A piece of cake! Saying no to his wife? What is that? Shouldn’t it be punishable by law?

Husband!salesman who couldn’t cook to save his life. He somehow ended up burning everything he put on stove, so he just stuck to cleaning instead. It was a silent agreement, you would make the breakfast and dinners and he would wash and dust while you cooked. On days he ran late, he loved being welcomed by the aroma of the dish you were making. It made him feel like that this was the reason he was alive.

Husband!salesman who still got flustered when you kiss his cheek. It had quickly become your power move. On the rare occasion where you disagreed upon something, you would simply kiss his cheek and watch him fumble with his words. It was the most adorable thing ever.

Husband!salesman who would kiss and bite your neck every chance he got. He loved the fact that he could attack your neck any time he wanted.

Husband!salesman who loved when you asked him to pick you up after work. He waited for the moment you would come running and jump to hug him tight.

Husband!salesman who always noticed every single detail. Like the time he caught a man making you uncomfortable while walking. He did exactly what the man deserved; beat him till his teeth were bloody and carved his fingers out from their socket,  for ever daring to make his wife feel unsafe.

Husband!salesman who got jealous easily. He didn’t ask for much, he just wanted every single person with conspicuous intentions towards you to just get hit by a truck on the highway (with him driving the truck preferably).

Husband!salesman who always made sure to support your hobbies! Even if you abandon them after two weeks, he’s proud of you for trying.

Husband!salesman who hated your plushies and teddy bears. He hated how much distance they created between you while sleeping. He would just throw them to the floor when you weren’t looking.

Husband!salesman who doesn’t like getting his shirt bloody because “My wife chose that for me, its rude of you to bleed on my clothes.”

Husband!salesman who says I love you like it’s the air he needs for breathing. He would find every reason to squeeze your hands thrice.

[rose24207]

How my dad does it

Summary: Ji-Woo imitates her father’s Ddakji game at school, offering chocolate for wins and punches for losses, believing it’s what he would do, forcing her parents to reevaluate the lessons she’s learning from him.

Genre: Dad!Salesman, Husband!Salesman, angst, fluff

TW: None!

A/N: This idea popped up in my head while I was unloading the dishwasher btw. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

Your husband had always been a man of contradictions. On the surface, he was charming, calm, and unassuming—a perfect husband and an attentive father. But beneath the polished smile was a man who thrived in the shadows, orchestrating games that could change lives in an instant. You knew his work wasn’t conventional—far from it.

Still, you’d chosen this life, complications and all. You loved him, even if his job often walked a fine line between thrilling and terrifying. He never brought it home, though. His line of work stayed outside your front door, and for that, you were grateful.

Or so you thought.

The phone call came just after lunch, interrupting what had been a rare moment of peace. The principal’s voice was calm but laced with tension, a tone you recognized immediately as bad news.

“Mrs. y/l/n, this is Principal Kim from Ji-Woo‘s school. We need you to come in immediately. There’s been… an incident.”

Your stomach dropped. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. But we need to discuss her behavior. It’s… unusual.”

The office was small, with beige walls and a wooden desk that felt far too large for the space. Ji-Woo sat in a chair across from the principal, her legs swinging as she hummed softly to herself. She looked perfectly content, which only made you more uneasy.

“Mrs. y/l/n,” Principal Kim greeted you, gesturing to the chair beside your daughter. “Thank you for coming.”

“What happened?” you asked, glancing between her and Ji-Woo.

The principal folded her hands on the desk, her expression unreadable. “Ji-Woo has been… conducting a game at recess.”

“A game?”

“Yes. She’s been playing Ddakji with her classmates. Do you know what that is?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Of course, you knew what it was. You’d seen your husband play it countless times—slapping paper squares against the ground, his movements quick and precise, his smile sharp and dangerous.

“It’s… a game her father likes,” you said carefully.

The principal nodded. “She’s been challenging other children to play. The winner gets a piece of chocolate.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” you said cautiously.

Principal Kim raised an eyebrow. “The loser, however, gets punched.”

You stared at her, stunned. “What?”

The principal nodded grimly. “Ji-Woo has been telling her classmates that they have to accept the rules. Win, and they get chocolate. Lose, and they get hit. According to the children, she said, and I quote, ‘That’s how my dad does it.’”

You turned to Ji-Woo, who was now examining her shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“Ji-Woo,” you said slowly, “is that true?”

She shrugged. “It’s just a game.”

“A game where you hit people?”

“Well, Daddy does it,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

The room went silent.

The principal cleared her throat. “Mrs. y/l/n, while I understand children often mimic their parents, this behavior is concerning. We’ve spoken to the other children and their parents, and they’re understandably upset.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your mind racing. How much had Ji-Woo seen? Your husband had always been careful about keeping his work separate from your family life. But clearly, something had slipped through the cracks.

“I’ll talk to her,” you said firmly. “This won’t happen again.”

The car ride home was awkwardly quiet. Ji-Woo sat in the back seat, her arms crossed, her expression stubborn. You didn’t say anything until you were both inside the house.

“Go to your room,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“But—”

“Now.”

She stomped off, muttering under her breath.

You let out a long sigh, leaning against the counter. You didn’t have long to gather your thoughts before the front door opened, and your husband walked in, a bag of groceries in one hand.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “How was—”

“Your daughter got in trouble at school today,” you cut him off.

He frowned, setting the bag down. “What happened?”

“She was playing Ddakji,” you said, your voice sharp.

His confusion was obvious. “Okay…?”

“And when her classmates lost, she punched them. Because, and I quote, ‘That’s how my dad does it.’”

His face froze, his usual composure slipping for a moment. “She said that?”

“Yes,” you snapped. “Apparently, she’s been watching you more closely than we thought.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Where is she now?”

“In her room. And you’re going to talk to her.”

You stood in the hallway, listening as he knocked softly on Ji-Woo’s door.

“Come in,” she said, her voice muffled.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. You waited, your heart pounding, as their conversation began.

“Ji-Woo,” he started, his tone gentle but firm. “Your mom told me what happened today.”

She didn’t respond.

“Why did you do it?” he asked.

“It’s just a game,” she mumbled.

“A game where you hurt people?”

She hesitated. “They agreed to the rules.”

He sighed, sitting down beside her. “Ji-Woo, listen to me. I know you’ve seen me play Ddakji before. But what I do… it’s not something you should copy.”

“Why not?” she asked, her voice small. “You always say I’m like you. I just wanted to be like you.”

His heart twisted. “Ji-Woo, being like me doesn’t mean you have to do everything I do. What I do isn’t always right.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and uncertain. “But you’re my dad. You’re supposed to be right.”

He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “Sometimes, adults make mistakes too. And I made a mistake by letting you see that side of me. But from now on, I want you to focus on being kind, okay? You’re smart and strong, Ji-Woo. You don’t need to hurt people to show them that.”

She nodded slowly, her lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled her into a hug, holding her close. “I know, sweetheart. And I’m proud of you for being honest. But no more hitting, okay?”

“Okay.”

Later that night, after Ji-Woo had gone to bed, you found him sitting on the couch, his head in his hands.

“I messed up,” he said quietly as you sat beside him.

“She’s six,” you reminded him. “She doesn’t fully understand what she’s doing yet. But she looks up to you, and that’s not a bad thing.”

“It is if I’m setting the wrong example,” he muttered.

You placed a hand on his knee, squeezing gently. “You’re not perfect. None of us are. But you’re a good father, and Ji-Woo knows you love her. That’s what matters most.”

He looked at you, his expression softening. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For keeping us grounded,” he said. “I’ll do better. For her. For you.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes. “We’ll do better,” you corrected.

Because no matter how complicated life got, you were in it together.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @same1995, @amatswimming

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Home Bliss | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Summary: He may be a psychopath but he pouts when his wife does not respond his messages.

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Suggestive - Soft moments - S1 Salesman personality with S2 personality - Obsessive!Salesman - Soft!Salesman

He liked to follow a routine, wake up besides you, your soft snores filling the room and your sweet natural aroma.

Take a moment to aprecciate your features, face, body, see the marks he had left behind after a rough night of sex.

If some were fading away then he would take a mental note to give you some new ones later.

Then he would move, letting you sleep some more, sometimes he would nudge you so you two would shower together, an activity he enjoyed a lot.

Washing your body, feeling the soap against your skin, water falling between your breasts and down your collarbone.

Did it lead to him being late becuase he could not control himself under the image that resembled a goddess? Yes.

But he never cared, he made it up by getting the double amount of names crossed from his list.

Preparing his briefcase for work was a private act, the password for the safe know only by him, even if the content itself was not grotesque, he prefer for you to know very little about what he did for work.

After it he would have breakfast with you. A black coffee with no sugar and a red appel, you would often make some bread for him, another thing he loved. Home coked food. He would teast the love you poured when making it. And would leave the house feeling full and loved.

Oh, and with a kiss. He could never leave the house without getting a kiss from you.  A sweet long kiss, soft lips and cold hands caressing his face and hair.

And that look, a look that made him feel less of a monster and more human, a look only someone deep in love could give.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

The Salesman had just ended another day at work and at the park where he would entertain himself by offering bread or fair tickets. Most would choose the second and find out they had lose.

After it he would go to a near bakery and buy some sweet desserts for you, he knew how much of a sweet tooth you had.

He pulled out his phone while he waited for his order, pouting when he saw no new messages from you.

What was his little wife doing?

Were you mad? He did not notice something different in the morning. You acted as you usually did, doting him like he was a starved man for affection.

For your affection? Maybe he was. But only yours.

Was about last night? He knew he was quiet rough, harder than most nights. He could not help himself when he saw you in one of his old shirts, showing your precious legs to him and your half closed eyes.

You looked cute and hot after a nap, he always told you to not wait him awake if he told you he was going to be late. But you were admant about it and wanted to see him before sleeping.

So, instead of going straight to sleep he had took you to his special room, where he showed you just how aroused he was, how much he liked pushing your limits. Making you scream his name and cry. Licking your tears and edging you over and over. Pain and pleasure blurring the line, as he spanked you, making you count and thank him for them.

Oh, your red ass looked so cute with his printed hand on it, he could cum in his pants by it.

Of course he also made you ride himself while he kept a strong hold on your neck, giving you different pressure, cuting out the air that went to your lungs and then letting you breath. He loved to see your eyes roll back, when he would hit that special spot inside you with the sensation of lost air.

Your life was in his hands and you gave him all the control over it.

Even if you were too tired this morning and with more marks than usual...he knew you had liked it.

So no, that could not be the reason.

"Order six!!"

Well, he would have to return home and see for himself what was happening.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Back at home the kitchen was a mess. You had decided to prepare your husband a well deserved dinner (even if walking did hurt like hell). In order to focus your phone was long forgot in your bedroom, were it rested with messages from him.

Not like you could know, too focus in the task at hand, the rice rested in a near plate, the meat being made at medium just like he liked it.

A small salad was also ready and waiting, you even went out to get a nice wine for both. Friday nights were the best nights to get drunk together.

It was all ready, you made your way to the dinning room, serving the plates in a fancy way, two glasses full of red wine.

You checked the hour and nodded to yourself, he would be home soon. You still needed to change.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

The Salesman opened up the door of his home, he frowned when he noticed the lights were off.

Slowly he moved towards the dinning room, were a flick of light was coming from. He started to get worried, did someone break in and hurt you? Just the idea sent rage into his body.

His lips formed a thin line, eyes now sharp and calculated as he walked in.

As he circle the corned his worried flew away, there you were, drinking a glass of wine, wearing his favorite clothes just for him and with the smell of home made dinner that made his heart beat fast and his body relax.

"Love, I kept texting you all day" He greeted going to hug you and kiss your head. "Why did you not respond?"

He gave you a pout, his eyes sad, he was a lot of things and one of them was being a softie for you, his dear wife.

"I was making you dinner, left my phone away so I would not get distracted"

He nodded but still looked over you with worry.

"One, one text its all I need to keep going" He said in a soft whisper "Dont ignore me again"

You had to bite down your smile, for someone who could get freaky and even sadistic in bed, he also had his lovable side, a bit possesive and obsessive but still lovable and yours.

"It wont happen again, now why dont you get out from these clothes and join me for dinner? I did your favorite"

His mouth watered at the sight, he was indeed hungry, and seeing the food was making him even more.

"Of course my love, and later I will show you how grateful im for it" He smirked kissing your temple.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

[onceinablueberrymoon]

intentionally by chance | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

part 2 | part 3 is up! scenario: a month after seeing the salesman on his way to the airport, gi-hun returns to that subway station every day, hoping to find the salesman and confront him. this is where you come in. setting: takes place after the events of season 1, but before gi-hun hires the loan shark group to search for the salesman warnings: deception; pregnant!reader; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 1.3k notes: salesman fluff! ♡ this guy’s been plaguing my thoughts for weeks now, so i had to write about him. my first fic in years! i like to think that S1 salesman is more chill than in S2. please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Excuse me… Can you please help me?”

The red-haired man, who was perusing the endless options of cup ramyeon, turned in your direction, but remained planted a few feet away from you. 

“Me?” He pointed at himself.

You nodded, adjusting the items you were holding in your arms. “Can you grab me that cup of ramyeon from the shelf? I’d get it, but my hands are full…” 

The man walked over and retrieved your cup of ramyeon. As he handed it to you, he noticed your pronounced bump under your sweater and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Miss, you’re in no condition to be carrying so much. Please, let me help you bring it to the checkout.”

With your approval, he unloaded the rest of your snacks into his arms. The two of you walked to the register, where you insisted on paying for his own cup of ramyeon. You suggested eating the ramyeon at one of the tables outside the subway station’s convenience store, but he insisted on sitting on a bench on the subway platform. 

“Is there a particular reason you wanted to eat here? It’s not the most ideal dining spot…” You slurped your noodles happily. The man ate slowly, popping his head up every so often and eyeing his surroundings carefully. 

“I’m… looking for something. Nothing you should worry yourself with,” he continued to eat his food while you gave him a skeptical look.

“Perhaps I could help? Well, as long as I don’t have to move very much,” you chuckled, patting your stomach. He gave you a soft smile before changing the topic. 

“Shouldn’t your husband be buying you food instead of you coming to get it yourself?” He gestured to your bag of snacks, and you giggled.

“My husband buys me all the food I want, but sometimes I just want to get out of the house! It’s no fun being cooped up all day,” you sighed. The man nodded in understanding. 

“It’s also nice to talk to other people, like you,” you smiled at him. He returned your smile, but then his eyebrows shot up when a sharp smack echoed throughout the platform. 

The man jumped up, his cup ramyeon forgotten on the bench. You turned to see where the noise had come from, only to find a group of students huddled around another student who had dropped their textbooks on the ground. From what you could hear, it seemed like they were holding them for a friend but couldn’t handle the weight.

The red-haired man froze for a few seconds, then sat back down, heaving a big sigh. 

“Are you alright, sir? There’s nothing to worry about – it was just some books that fell.” You tried to comfort the man in some way, but he brushed the incident off. 

“I’m fine. It just… reminded me of something,” he tried his best to give you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t convince you. “Don’t worry about me. Please eat,” he gestured to your unfinished ramyeon, “you need strength for your baby.”

The rest of your time together was pleasant, but you were still not convinced that the man’s reaction was nothing. You both finished your noodles, disposing the packaging and your utensils before parting ways. 

Once you returned home, you put the remaining snacks away and settled on the sofa. There were still a few hours before your husband was due home. You got yourself comfortable, curled up under a blanket, and drifted off to sleep.

“Rough day?”

You cracked open your eyes. All you could see was a blurry grey shape, but you already knew who it was. 

Blinking your eyes a few times, your husband’s handsome face came into focus, with his usually crisp grey suit looking a bit creased. His usual smirk graced his face as he looked down at you on the sofa.

“I should be asking you that. What happened to your suit?” You sat up and he sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“One prospective player became violent when he lost at ddakji for the 20th time in a row. Of course, I was able to subdue him, but it took more effort than usual,” your husband tried to press down a crease on his sleeve, but to no avail. He rested a hand on your rounded belly, gently rubbing circles with his fingers.

“How was today? I trust you succeeded in your mission?” 

You scoffed, “He was exactly where you said he’d be. I was able to have a conversation with him. We even ate ramyeon together for lunch!” 

Your husband turned to face you, an eyebrow raised. “You ate ramyeon together?” He gave a small pout, “I thought I was the only one you ate ramyeon with.”

Immediately, your face flustered as you explained yourself, “Hey, you know that I would never cheat!” Then, you scoffed, “We ate cup ramyeon, alright? Not whatever fantasy you’re imagining in that head of yours.” He laughed, pecking you on the cheek.

“Oh, but I have some exciting news,” you said with a sparkle in your eyes. “He’s still looking for you. And he’s basically gone mad trying to find you.” This caught your husband’s attention.

“While we were eating, there was a loud noise. Turned out that a kid dropped their books. But Gi-hun didn’t know that. He shot up so fast I swear I thought he was possessed!” 

Your husband seemed to take in your findings carefully, continuing his circles on your bump as if they helped him focus. 

“He wouldn’t tell me what he was looking for, but he specifically wanted us to sit on the subway platform, so I think it’s safe to say he’s searching for you.” Your husband had previously informed you that he had spotted a player he had already recruited at the Incheon Airport subway station, albeit with flaming red hair. After talking with the Frontman, he confirmed that Seong Gi-hun was indeed the winner of the 33rd edition of the Games. 

Once you shared the rest of your intel with your husband, you let out a big sigh. 

“Should I meet with Gi-hun again? It’d be useful to know his location and I could maybe gather more info,” you looked at your husband who had since sat up, but he didn’t take his hand off your bump. 

He pondered your question for a moment. “While I would benefit from knowing his whereabouts, I’m more afraid of something happening to you,” his voice sounded strained. “I wouldn’t be there to protect you and our child.” 

You leaned onto his shoulder, resting a hand on top of his on your belly. “We’ll be fine. If anything, Gi-hun was also concerned for me because of the baby,” you winked. “Maybe they’re the key to earning his trust.” 

Your husband’s lips tightened into a straight line. While he wasn’t happy that you would spend time with someone who clearly despised him, you were right — your pregnancy would lower Gi-hun’s defenses. You knew how much your husband’s schedule was impacted by Gi-hun’s constant presence on the AREX subway line. It would greatly help your husband if you could keep Gi-hun at one station while he recruited prospective players for the Games. 

Your husband kissed the crown of your head and stood up, attempting once again to smooth out the crease on his sleeve. “We’ll see. I’ll talk to the Frontman to see if we can get you any additional protection. I still don’t like the idea of you being around Gi-hun alone. If he learns of our relationship, I imagine he will use you as ransom,” he clicks his tongue, “We can’t have that now, can we?” 

You shook your head and stood up next to your husband. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“For now, continue researching prospective players. I’m almost done with your last batch,” he flashed his signature smirk, which you returned with a soft smile of your own.

“On it. Rumour has it that Tapgol Park has an abundance of people down on their luck…”

[xeniums]

lee dong-wook stan back here to repost this delicious very true tweet

[luckkythirt33n]

"You can't aggressively sell people cars Crowley!"

"Why'not?"

[ravenempress101]

He needs his own villian series so bad I’m sorry I want more dedicated men obsessed 👨‍💼

They are definitely psychotic men but dang the passion😍

[ineffablehubbys]

Don’t worry David, I’d buy any car off you

[troubledbee]

I can sense a mattress being sold. Soon... Soon I will get to cleanse a house from all its impurities, with the blessing of the sacred flames...

Inspiration

[tychos-huzband]

my phone's at like 2 percent but i have to post these edits because fuck being normal

[dumpingground6]

I should draw this image with Scrooge McDuck and aziraphale from good omens

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about fallout 4 against my will

[skyward-floored]

My brother: hey Peggy, did you know botw 2 is coming out in nine days?

Me: WHY YES. I DO. IN FACT. I’M VERY AWARE. THANKS.

[multishipper-baby]

Help I was watching the Salt Route video and this exchange killed me

I want to print this and hang it on my bedroom walls.

[pinksopaque]

would anyone like .. hate me if i decided to write characters from squid game ..

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ me & my husband ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you don’t need your husband to be perfect, you just want him to be honest┊3.3k words; part two (here)

contains: written before s2 came out!! probably ooc or inaccurate, angst with spots of fluff & a bittersweet ending? reader’s pov mostly, suspicions of cheating, lack of communication, mentioned age gap, random inaccurate lore for the salesman

➤ author's note: yeah, i saw the sudden uptick in notes on that gong yoo post i made and realized season 2 came out which i completely forgot about. i intend to watch it soon as possible and write fics for it as well as (probably) add new characters to my writing list, but for now, please be content with this!!

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ this fic was heavily inspired by “emotionally intoxicated” by aurasaurora!

gong ji-cheol is the poster image for the ideal husband. he’s always been like that from the moment you met him, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the luckiest woman in the world when he calls himself yours. he’s tall and handsome, someone who catches everyone’s eye despite his only being focused on you. he’s wealthy and hard-working, able to call a luxurious mansion your home, and willing to buy you anything your heart desires as long as you ask for it. he spoils you rotten with that money, gifting you expensive things even if you didn’t ask if it reminded him of you. he’s doting, always sure to smother you in affection with kisses and cuddles whenever together to make it known how much he adores you. the sex is great too, he makes you feel wanted and desirable without ever leaving you unsatisfied. 

most importantly though, you love him, and he loves you. the last two years of marriage have been so blissful, and there isn’t a single thing you would change.

at least that’s what you believe most of the time.

you like to think you know a lot about him, and in a way, you do. you know his favorite color, how he likes his coffee, what he usually orders at restaurants, the type of wine he prefers over beer, the exaggerated shocked fasces he likes to make, how his favorite chore is folding the laundry, how his least favorite is doing the dishes because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty, the name of his childhood pet, what positions he likes to cuddle or fuck in, the names he’s thinking of giving to your child when they are finally born— there are so many little details you know about him, yet at times you feel like you don't know anything at all.

you don’t really know much about his childhood aside from a few random stories, he claims there’s nothing really notable and that it was as standard as can be. you don’t know who his parents were or what they were like because he said they died when he was young, but surely that’s an important loss which must have impacted him and made youth difficult in some way? you don’t know about his past partners if he even had any, but you doubt you were his first as he was yours with a face like his. you don’t know any of his secrets, like an embarrassing moment or something sinful he might have committed in the past. 

he knew all of these things about you and the little details of your life, so why don’t you know any of the most basic things regarding your own husband?

these periods of uncertainty are few and far, but once the icy tendrils of doubt creep in, it’s difficult to shake them off when you realize you only know these things through observations and not him actually telling you. it’s a miracle your stupidity allowed you to make it this far in falling head over heels for him, getting married, and carrying his child (not that you completely regret it, you still love him, but you wish you had given it more time).

they say there are no such things as stupid questions, yet the main question you have is exactly that as it’s something every wife should know even before the marriage. it would be impressive how long you’ve been clueless about this matter if it weren’t for how often and how skilled he is in managing to evade your curiosity and steer the conversation elsewhere. you didn’t want to press on it since he seems to shut it down every time the topic is brought up and you don’t want to fight over something you technically didn’t need to know, but it weighs on you and presses into your chest with the knowledge you were being kept in the dark. 

what did your husband do for a living, exactly?

his schedule is always unpredictably changing with little rhyme or reason and it confuses you. sometimes you’ll go an entire few days without seeing him, sensing him wake up in the morning before the sun is even up, feeling him kiss you on the cheek before getting ready, and not coming back until long after you fall asleep with no communication aside from a note on the table telling you he’ll be gone for the day along with a wad of cash for you to treat yourself while he’s gone. other times he’ll be chilling at home for an entire week, waking you up with aggressive cuddles (or morning sex), making you breakfast with the morning news on in the background, and taking you out to wherever you want to go on his card in his rare casual clothing and messy wavy hair rather than the typical fancy suits and hair styled with gel. 

as far as you’re concerned, he’s a businessman of sorts, although you don’t know what company he works for or what position he has in terms of hierarchy or how an occupation of that type allows such flexibility in hours or anything at all. 

“what if he’s having an affair?”

you paused for a second before continuing the motion of slicing the cheesecake with a fork and savoring the taste in your mouth. “that’s ridiculous,” you stated simply after swallowing. “he loves me very much, and it doesn’t explain his weird schedule either.”

today was spent with some friends you met back in high school, but honestly, you were only attending out of politeness and tradition since you honestly feel like you’ve disconnected from these girls long before the current. still, you treasure the memories shared in your more formative years and wouldn’t ever say no to them if they wanted to hang out like old times. ji-cheol doesn’t bother to hide his distaste for them, calling them a miserable lot who try to drag you down at every opportunity out of jealousy for your happiness. you laugh it off, but you know deep down he’s right and yet you’re still sitting here at the cafe with them with bright smiles like their words don’t cut deep. 

“maybe he’s dating the boss— a sexy office siren type— she gives him plenty of days off and he stays with her at her beach house at jeju island or something to keep her company, and then she gives him lots of money in exchange.”

“oh my god, could you imagine?”

“can you be realistic? it sounds like you’re just writing a plot for a new drama,” you giggled, not allowing the feeling of a twisting blade in your abdomen to show on your face or the venom to drip from your words at the mere thought of the man you loved being stolen away a faceless woman who was everything you wished you were more of: more beautiful, more wealthy, more experienced, more intelligent—

“you don’t know because he’s your first love or whatever— and you’re so lucky to have been able to marry him— but men are dogs, and i don’t see why he would be the exception.”

“but he treats me so well—”

“maybe he only treats you well because you’re pregnant— he probably just feels guilty. i mean, when i was pregnant and had my first, my husband wasn’t attracted to me anymore and demanded a divorce unless i lost the baby weight.” she shrugged like it was so simple, so common, like the notion of marriage wasn’t something so deeply important and could be thrown away so easily.

“we aren’t suggesting you get a divorce, but we’re just saying you should keep an eye on him— you know? a handsome guy like him was always bound to get a lot of attention…” her laugh was shrill and high-pitched, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“right… thanks guys…”

that night, you couldn’t stop twisting and turning on the large sectional couch with thoughts rushing through your head of your husband with some other woman. the jealousy from these fictional scenarios without evidence of existence plagued you. it made you want to vomit up the negative feelings and go back to the person you were a few hours ago without the images of him cheating planted in your mind, which didn’t go unnoticed by him and caused him to ask what was bothering you as it wouldn't be good for the baby.

you hesitated for a moment, “could you tell me about your exes?”

“why are you suddenly curious about that?” he chuckled, knowing damn well that it was because of those stupid snakes masquerading as people (it truly takes one to know one) running their mouths again, but still feigning obliviousness for your sake. 

“just wondering,” you muttered. “i mean, you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, but you’re a bit older than me so…”

“and i hope to be the only one too,” he smirked confidently, making you laugh as he plopped down on the ground and rested his head on the cushion next to yours. 

it was such a casual setting in such a vast space, bringing you back to the days in your little apartment inviting him over for chicken and beer before you knew about your immense wealth and got embarrassed over your cheap dates when he was so used to expensive restaurants. he found it very endearing though, knowing you liked him for him and not his money.

“well, if you’re so curious…” he trailed off, but you weren’t quite sure if it was because of hesitation or because he simply didn’t know where to start. you can’t remember the last time a conversation like this was held to learn more about him since it was usually about you, maybe back when you first started dating and briefly discussed his late parents.

he started with his crush when he was in middle school since that was his earliest recollection of feeling love, who didn’t really count as a girlfriend or love because nothing was established and because of their age, but she was his first kiss that he ran away from right after because of how nervous he was, and it was never addressed again. apparently it was his second girlfriend who taught him everything he knew before he met you, saying she basically “trained him like a dog” to create a gentleman out of an inexperienced boy who still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a woman like a queen. she was a bit mean though, and he didn’t realize he dodged a bullet until later after realizing she was unnecessarily cruel to him for no reason multiple times if he didn’t do things exactly her way.

you suppose you always knew your husband wasn’t always the suave charmer you know him to be, but the image of younger him being clueless on matters of romance made you burst out laughing because of how you could hardly picture it.

he reached over to pinch your cheek affectionately, “are you of all people really making fun of me when you were too scared to hold my hand for me to escort you out of my car?”

“oh my god, that was on our first date, i can’t be blamed! i was shaking like crazy on that day— you had to tell me that you didn’t bite.”

“i was actually thinking about calling off our date last minute because of an emergency at work,” he confessed, “but i’m glad i didn’t and met the love of my life instead.”

“aw, you flirt.” the memory made you smile and feel all giggly inside, all the fears you had about him possibly having an affair falling away, yet there were still some lingering at the back of your mind with the mention of his job. “what happened at work?”

“nothing that important,” he said instantly like clockwork. “just some boring business things.”

you didn’t push it, not wanting to ruin the mood, but once again, your curiosity was just itching to ask more questions about his work life even if it was truly as boring as he says. you wanted to know every mundane detail whether it was what his office looked like or what the annoying co-worker did on a daily basis, anything to satiate your need to know more about this mysterious man you had made life-long vows with.

it all came to a head one night while you were cooking dinner, you heard the doorbell ring a dozen times in quick succession and answered it to find an older man with fiery red hair that seemed to match his temper. when he addressed your husband by name and verified your relationship with him, he began spewing all kinds of insults about the blood he had on his hands by luring innocent people to their deaths and you felt your heart drop. you tried to reason with him that there must have been some sort of mistake, barely able to get your words out in a fit of confusion and surprise at the absurd accusation, but he wouldn’t hear you out and pointed a finger in your face, asking if you had any idea what gong ji-cheol was doing behind your back. 

at that very moment, he was suddenly seized by two anonymous men in all black, causing him to yell out in panic as they dragged him away and stuffed him in the back of a car before quickly driving off into the night without a trace. it all happened so fast, you just stood there with your mouth open in shock, wondering if you should call the police on what looked like an abduction. 

then your husband comes running up the steps with his locked briefcase in hand, shouting out your name, asking you if you’re okay, pulling you back inside the comfort of your shared home, and checking you all over to make sure you aren’t harmed in any way. when you ask about who that man was and what he was talking about, he simply told you he was some crazy customer who was dissatisfied with the company, was looking for someone to blame, and promised to tell you the details later. 

you didn’t tell him that you didn’t believe him, just pursed your lips and furrowed your brow for a second then let go of the topic like you always do, taking his coat off his shoulders with a peck on the lips asking how his day was. he reciprocated the kiss, said it was fine without anything special, and that he would shower before having dinner, something he didn’t really need to say since you already knew but stated anyway as per evening routine. 

as he headed up the stairs and disappeared from sight, you stared at the locked briefcase resting crookedly on the little entryway table and paused for a moment. if you did this, it would be a breach of privacy and a sign of growing distrust in your husband, but it could also answer all of the questions that never cease. 

your hands wouldn’t stop shaking involuntarily as you felt the cold black metal underneath your fingertips, marveling at the smooth material clean of any scratches or dents. fidgeting with the built-in combination lock, six number sequences started rushing through your mind as you started to hastily run through your options with a focus on dates. you were determined to only do this three times since you had no idea if an alarm would be set off or if it would close off permanently.

his birthday?

an electronic beep went off indicating you were incorrect, making you nervous.

your birthday?

wrong again, you only had one attempt left. you swallowed, shaking the accumulating sweat off your hands.

the date of your wedding?

you gasped as the locks suddenly flipped open and lightly knocked against the briefcase. it was undone, you could open it at any moment now and see it all.

and yet you still hesitated during this golden opportunity. was it the fact that the passcode to his most secret possession was the day you got married? was it guilt for going behind your husband’s back for answers instead of directly asking him? was it because you were afraid of what you would find if you discovered the red-haired man was telling the truth?

whatever it was, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and locked it again, leaving it looking untouched and went back to playing dinner.

there was a heavy tension present at the dinner table that night, the only conversation present being him interrogating you about what the red-haired man talked about word-for-word. not really interrogating since his tone of voice was still calm and gentle as he asked questions, but you could see him fidgeting with his fork and not leaving much room for any other topic until he was sure you told him everything. he then sighed and claimed the man was insane, a gambling addict who was too deep in debt to afford treatment and was trying to drag him into his misery after meeting at the subway station. 

“ji-cheol?”

he froze for a second, not used to hearing you use his real name rather than a pet name. “yes?”

“what do you do for a living, exactly?”

a pause, you watched him fidget with his chopsticks and shift the grains of rice around. “you know, business stuff— nothing you need to concern yourself about—“

“but i don’t know! that’s the thing!” you felt tears starting to well up behind your eyes, letting two years of frustration trickle through. “i know it doesn’t seem that important for me to know, but is it really so important that you leave me in the dark about it for the three years we’ve been lovers? and now some guy comes to our doorstep and tells me about how your job is playing games with people at the subway station to make them participate in death games?!” you took a deep breath, calming yourself down, “please, be honest with me, that’s all i want…”

“i-i…” that was the first time you��ve ever heard him stutter, and if the situation wasn’t so tense, you would be proud you finally got one-up on him. “i can’t say… it’s for your own safety and mine.”

“so he was right?”

he remained silent, trying to think of some way to counter what seong gi-hun had told you, but if you didn’t believe the elaborate lie he already told you and wanted to learn more, then he knew this was the end of the road. 

“i-i need some time to think…” you looked defeated and it broke his heart. “i’m going to my mom’s house tonight, i’ll be back tomorrow—“ you got up, not bothering to pack anything aside from your phone and your wallet.

he had prepared for you to start screaming and crying (not that he would blame you, i mean, who would willingly stay with a man who was complicit in mass murder), demanding a divorce and packing your things to shut the door for him never to be seen again with your unborn child. the strangely calm reaction was both a relief and extremely unsettling to him.

“i won’t be mad if you decide not to come back” he stated plainly, defeated in a state you’ve never seen him in before. “whatever choice you make, i’ll support you, just know i love you— more than anything else in this world.”

you stared at him blankly through the open doorway. perhaps your husband isn’t the perfect man you believed him to be, but he was as honest as he possibly could have been with you regarding the matter, and that’s enough. 

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning.” that’s how you feel at the moment, but you don’t know if you’ll feel the same way tomorrow morning when it sinks in.