I believe in love. I believe in good stories. I play really hard on the weekends because I like to have those stories. My wife and I go off and do craziness all the time. We’re just like, ‘What can we go get into this weekend?’ Then we have other ones where we just sit and do nothing and then we have work that we do. It’s all memories.
Summary: Technically, he didn’t break his promise: You would never forget this birthday.
A/N: WE LOVE YOU VERY MUCH AND WE CAN ASSURE YOU THAT THIS ISN’T WHAT YOU THINK IT’S GONNA BE. ;)
Warnings: (this part is safe but for the sake of transparency…)sense deprivation, edge play, D/s (slight hunter/prey), leather, bondage, humiliation, brat (i.e. you af)
“You’re not funny.”
You narrowed your eyes and hissed into your phone’s camera, “Don’t you ‘jagiya’ me, Park Chanyeol. You promised!”
Chanyeol huffed in frustration, the gust of air pushing his fluffy bangs up to reveal his forehead. “I know I did, jagiya, but-”
“But nothing. You said, and these are your exact words, ‘I promise on Rilakkuma and all his friends that I will be home for your birthday, come zombie apocalypse or My Chemical Romance reunion.’ And you said it in English too so you know I would remember it. But yet here I am, 3 hours until midnight on the eve of my birthday, alone and annoyed and-”
“Aish!” he interjected. “Do you ever shut up?!”
You jerked back from the phone in disbelief since there was no way in hell Park Chanyeol was talking to you. “Excuse you?”
Chanyeol leaned forward and growled, “You heard me.” You opened your mouth to speak but he firmly stated, “I’m not done speaking.”
You huffed, “Well neith-”
“Did I say you could speak?” he snapped. The sudden assertiveness and aggression the normally tenderhearted and passive man was displaying was making it very difficult for you to string together coherent thoughts as the flames of anger singing your heart quickly blazed a white hot trail down to your core. Smirking, he leaned back and husked, “I painstakingly laid the most meticulous plans for your birthday and I would hate for you to be unable to enjoy them. So be a good girl for me and stay quiet.”
A beat of tense silence passed as Chanyeol waited for you to disobey him. The brat in you really wanted to give him hell for silencing you, but your gift was on the line so you decided that just this once it would be okay to sacrifice your pride and be obedient. Seeing he had your complete compliance, he slid off his tie and popped open the top button of his crisp button down before he calmly said, “I promised you I would be home in time for your birthday and I will keep my promise. But due to the storms rolling through Macau and out of safety concerns, the jet has been grounded for another 6 hours. So, I’ve called in a favor and I am certain you’ll enjoy it. All you have to do is be good for me and stay quiet until I hang up. Can you do that for me, baby?”
You nodded your head affirmatively. Chanyeol smiled softly before he took a deep breath and began to passionately rant about his boring day in business meetings and how much he hated rubbing elbows with old, stuck up CEOs and their entitled sons who knew little to nothing about anything besides using their family name and money to get ass and be dicks. Honestly, his tirade was getting a little too repetitive for your liking, so you opened your mouth to sassily ask how much longer–
As if on cue, the doorbell to your penthouse apartment rang loudly, fracturing your thought and silencing him. You glanced up in the direction of the door with a puzzled look on your face. Packages weren’t ever delivered personally unless explicit instructions to the staff were given. Looking down to your phone screen, you were greeted with a smug looking Chanyeol. “Aren’t you going to answer it?” Internally grumbling about what in the sam hell the lanky ass man you loved was up to, you slithered off the couch and made your way to the door. Just as you were opening it, he stopped you and said, “Happy birthday, jagiya. Remember…” Chanyeol leaned forward until only his lips were shown and husked in the deepest, raspiest voice he could manage, “Daddy loves you.” Abruptly, he hung up the phone.
“This better be the oxblood Gucci boots I wanted,” you mumbled to yourself as you opened the door. Instead of being greeted by a box with a massive bow on top, you were faced with an entirely different gift. “That’s not Gucci.”