#instead of you know. just posting from a real computer

[deltaruminations]

twice. TWICE. TWICE IN A ROW NOW I have edited a draft on Tumblr for android, tapped "save," you know, to save the draft, as one FUCKING does, and Tumblr went ahead and posted it instead for some reason. frustrating but also to be fair I probably do need an external intervention to just post dumb stuff instead of anxiously stewing on it forever

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[palms-upturned]

Frustrates me to no end seeing people say “what’s your alternative to voting blue? Stage a revolution right now? This second? Get real, you’re posting on your computer instead of firebombing walmarts.” I don’t think that you understand what people are actually doing. I know for myself, I’ve been reading more history and theory than I ever have before. I’ve been marching. I’ve been getting involved with labor activism. I’ve been doing strategic research. I’ve tried to archive and share resources. I’ve watched other people do WAY more than I ever have or probably could. I’ve seen people occupy arms manufacturing sites and hold wildcat strikes and disrupt daily life as much as possible. We’ve all seen this happening at unprecedented levels for months now. And most of all, I’ve seen Palestinians telling us, rightfully full of anger, do not ever go back to how things were before. Do not turn away from what’s happening and your own complicity in it.

This is not something that we can vote our way out of. Our state is built on the same violence being inflicted on the people of Palestine. We helped to build Israel. We are still arming it and funding the “war” right now. Even the most half hearted measures from international bodies like the UN to take the bare minimum of a stance against genocide are quashed by the US. As they always have been, our power and resources are used to reinforce imperial and colonial hegemony. That remains the same no matter who is sitting in the Oval Office. And so does our own struggle for liberation. Meaningful change is never, ever going to come from within. We force the change to happen, as we always have.

If you can understand intersectionality, then surely you can understand this: we are not going to free ourselves by sacrificing colonized people. You may vote blue, and for you it could be a matter of life and death. Believe me, as a poor disabled person in a red state who almost killed myself over medical debt, I know the stakes. But I think you have to own the fact that you are empowering perpetrators of genocide and breaking solidarity with colonized people, not even to liberate yourself, but just to bargain with the oppressor for your life. That Palestinians and everyone else who we have harmed are going to be angry and they are more than within their rights. Instead of deflecting by just assuming that no one else is capable of putting their money where their mouth is and actually trying to lay groundwork for change, just do whatever you feel you have to do and sit with the reality of the situation.

Palestine will be free, we will be free, the whole world will someday be free. But for now, this is where we are, and we won’t free ourselves by operating like crabs in a bucket. Get organized, take care of each other, commit to solidarity. Empower yourself and each other rather than the state.

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧JJK Men as Yanderes ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post Format: Headcanons

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Mahito, Choso Kamo

Word count: Each piece is roughly 750 words

Warnings: implied sabotage (Gojo, Toji, Choso), invasion of privacy (Gojo), kidnapping (Gojo, Sukuna), murder (Geto), kidnapping mention (Nanami, Toji), suicidal ideation (Nanami), light gore (Gojo, Sukuna, Mahito), reader injury (Sukuna), threats of bodily harm/mutilation (Mahito), sexual assault (Mahito), implied murder (Choso)

Satoru Gojo

You're nothing special. Not compared to him, at least. With no long line of sorcery or blue blood running through your veins, your family is just about as average as it gets.

You're nothing special---not to Jujutsu society, anyway. But who gives a shit about that? To Satoru, you're more than special.

You're everything.

He's always been the strongest, and yet, when he's with you, he just feels so weak.

Like a schoolgirl fawning over her latest crush, Satoru often finds himself checking his phone while away on missions, hoping to see your name appear on his screen. It doesn't have to be anything special—even a picture of some ugly animal with the caption "That's u, lol." is enough to get him going. Just knowing you were thinking of him at all, even in an unflattering light, makes him feel lightheaded in a way not even battle can emulate.

It's weird. It's embarrassing.

But he can't get enough.

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel, he'd kneel. If you asked him to beg, he'd beg. If you asked him to rip out a man's heart and present it to you, he'd ask if he should do so on a silver or gold platter.

If you asked him to let you go, however...

You sigh and fall back onto the couch. It'd been a week since your landlord mysteriously kicked you out, and Satoru took you in with a frankly suspicious eagerness. To say that he was an overbearing roommate was to put it lightly.

He'd follow you around the flat from room to room, enter your bedroom without knocking, and once, you even caught him sifting through your laundry. He wasn't even embarrassed about getting caught, let alone the fact that he had done it in the first place.

You decided to start searching for a new roommate after that.

"Y'know," Satoru says, slinging his arms around your shoulders---you hadn't even heard him approach. You quickly close your computer, which happens to have very clearly been showcasing cheap apartments in the area. "I could have just taken ya'. Snatched you up off the street like some kidnapper."

"What...?"

"---But I decided to play nice instead. I thought we could forge a real relationship that way. But you've just been pushing me away. I'm starting to think I've been too lenient with ya'. Like maybe I should have just locked you up instead."

"That isn't funny, Satoru."

"Who said I was joking?" You open your mouth to respond, but Satoru cuts you off before you get the chance. "You want dinner? I can order us takeout. Anywhere you'd like."

Drop it, his eyes say. You do.

That very night, you pack a bag and head to the nearest hotel. In the morning, you'll ask your job if they can transfer you to another city. For tonight, you'd like to just get a good night's rest without the lingering fear of waking up to his figure looming over you.

You wake up to familiar surroundings. It doesn't register as strange until you remember checking into a hotel the night prior. You shoot up to get a better look around. Sure enough, you're in your own bedroom, not the hotel's.

But how...?

You're sure you left last night. Did you dream it? You go to check your phone, but it's not there.

Just then, the door opens. "Oh, you're up," your roommate says.

"Satoru, what's---"

"I called you in sick for work today," he says casually, "and tomorrow. Actually, starting today, you're unemployed."

"What?!"

"Don't worry. I can take care of us. I've got more than enough money."

Satoru wants you more than he's ever wanted anything, and he wants you to feel the same way. He'd do anything if it meant winning your heart.

If you asked him to kneel...If you asked him to beg...

If you asked him to let you go, however...

"C'mon, baby, you know I can't do that," he'd say, arms around your waist and head in your lap. "Ask me for something else, anything. Just not that. Do you want a pony? We can get a pony."

"No---"

"What about a cat? Or maybe you prefer dogs? I could get a purebred if you wanted one. I know it gets lonely being in the house all by yourself."

"I want to go outside, Satoru."

"We could get a fish tank, I guess. Though I doubt they'd make good company."

"Listen to me---"

"Actually, maybe that's for the best. Wouldn't want to compete for my lover's attention in my very own home, you know?"

Suguru Geto

When he was at his lowest, Suguru thought of you. It kept him going. It kept him sane.

So, of course, you were the first person he asked to join him in the creation of the new world. His world.

"Our world," he said, the look on his face desperate, pleading.

You declined, of course. His ideals went against everything you stood for as a Jujutsu sorcerer. As a person.

He took it well---or seemed to, at least. He flashed you a plastered-on smile and released your hands from his, leaving you with no further fuss.

For a while, that seemed to be the end of it.

Life went on. Though you would occasionally catch wind of his nefarious deeds, dealing with such things never fell within your purview. In fact, it almost seemed as if the higher-ups were purposefully keeping you from any cases that involved him.

You had all but forgotten about that fateful evening when a call from the higher-ups had you booking a flight to Okayama.

Apparently, there had been a sudden influx of cursed spirits in the region. And as the lead researcher in cursed phenomena, you were called to the scene.

You had already been given a file outlining the happenings, but out of courtesy, Yumi, the assistant supervisor assigned to the case alongside you, filled you in regardless.

"It's not that there's a higher rate of cursed spirits being born in this area," she said. "They're migrating here."

"Hmm," you look over the map on your tablet again; colour-coded dots mark the locations and grades of each (presumed) non-native sighting. The spacings are far from natural. They seem to have been made with intent, almost as if forming a pattern of some kind.

"We've set up a barrier to track the arrival of new cursed spirits. Nearly every curse from fourth to semi-first grade in the neighbouring towns has been coming here. Some of our windows have even spotted them moving together in groups."

"Was there anything strange about their behaviour? Like moving in single-file lines, with strange movements, or perhaps even speaking?" Yumi lights up.

"Yes, actually! They were all---"

Your screen flashes, suddenly restarting the tablet without your input.

"Huh...?"

"[Last]-San..." Your supervisor almost whispers. You tear your eyes from your screen to hers as she weakly holds up her tablet to you.

Over four hundred cursed spirits have been spotted crossing the Okayama border within the past fifteen minutes.

Your tablet finishes restarting, and you scramble to view the map again, hoping what you just saw was nothing more than a glitch.

The loading screen seems to take ages to complete, but when it does, the map shows exactly what you feared.

Oh. You get it now.

The pattern it was trying to spell out. It's "愛"

---"Love".

You hear a scream.

"Ah, it's good to see you again. How long has it been now?" A voice---one you're all too familiar with---says. "Two, no, maybe three years?" Suguru is wiping blood off of his hands. You don't want to look down. You can't look down.

Yumi is dead.

You looked down.

"I'm not sure why I phrased that like a question I didn't know the answer to," he says, smiling in a way that makes your heart ache. "I've been keeping track down to the days, you see."

"Were you...behind this?" You've never been one for combat. You can't use reverse cursed technique to save Yumi. You can't fight to save the others. There's nothing you can do.

You've never felt so helpless.

"I did," he admits casually. "I recently got my hands on a new curse. First-grade 'Pied Piper', its technique creates a sort of call-and-response between itself and other curses of a lower grade through a musical frequency only other curses can perceive. With that technique, I can manipulate the movements of curses I haven't yet acquired without leaving my residuals behind."

"But if it's coming from the technique of a curse you possess, your residuals would still be left behind," you counter.

"Ah, as quick on the uptake as always, [First]," he praises. "You're right, or you would be if this curse were under the control of my curse spirit manipulation. No, this curse was tamed, not subjugated."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He's going to kill you once he's finished explaining.

"I've always appreciated an inquisitive mind," he says. "especially when it's your inquisitive mind." Your mouth forms a vague 'O' shape as the realisation dawns on you.

"愛"

"Love"

...You're never getting away.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is someone who has never really been all that content with life.

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Sometimes, on his darkest days, Nanami thinks about what would have happened if he had joined Haibara—or better yet, if he had never even been born in the first place. If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?

But then he met you, and suddenly, the world didn't seem all that bad.

Don't get him wrong, it's not like your presence suddenly made all the wrongs in the world right, but it did make him feel like they all mattered just a little bit less. Like maybe all this suffering was worth it, if it also meant he could see you smile.

So, of course, he'd do anything to keep you safe. To protect that smile.

The easiest way to ensure that, of course, would be to clip your wings. To lock you away somewhere where only he could reach you. A songbird that only sings for him, a dove in a birdcage.

He'd treat you like royalty, of course. His job pays well, but he's a somewhat frugal person by nature, so he has plenty of savings lying around. Whatever you wanted, he'd get you.

As long as you stayed safe, he couldn't ask for anything more. Even if you didn't love him, as long as your smile could be protected, that would be enough.

He's in the middle of researching what kind of restraints would cause the least damage and irritation to your skin when he realises what a grave mistake he was about to make.

'If the world is this awful, wouldn't it be better to have never experienced it at all?'

What if...

What if you started feeling that way, too?

What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?

He could offer you all the material things in the world, but if it comes at the price of your freedom, it might still not make you happy. After all, it was the same for him.

If money didn't make him happy, why would you be different?

Sorcery sucks. Corporate sucks. Japan sucks.

Nanami is worse.

He doesn't deserve you. It's with this thought in mind that he begins to avoid you. He refuses to meet your gaze, leaves the room when you enter, and declines all missions that involve your presence.

He feels like he's going crazy. Separation has made him sloppy and reckless. He comes home with more injuries, and a part of him thinks he deserves it.

Bags begin to form under his eyes as two weeks go by without the haven of your presence. He sees you everywhere now. The girl across the street is dressed in a substyle you like. The model in that magazine has your eyes. The cafe down the block is having a special on your coffee order.

"Nanamin, why're you avoiding [Last] all of a sudden? They do something to you?" Nanami scoffs at the remark but doesn't answer. He turns to leave but stops when Gojo continues. "Y'know, they actually came cryin' to me about it. Said they had no idea why you suddenly started treatin' 'em like they've got the plague." Nanami turns to look at Gojo, who's fiddling with his blindfold. "You should make up with them soon. Can't leave our cute little assistant supervisor feeling so down, you know?"

Nanami hates to admit it, but Gojo might be right.

'What if, in trying to protect your smile, he ends up being the one to take it away?'

Fuck. He can't do anything right.

He really doesn't deserve you, but what can he do? If he leaves, you won't smile anymore, but if he stays, you'll be smiling at a monster.

But what can he do? He'd do anything to protect that smile.

Even if it means hiding his fangs.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is a man who takes what he wants and doesn't care if he has to get his hands dirty in order to take it.

Naturally, this applies to you as well.

It's strange, he's never wanted someone as badly as he wants you. Not his past flings, not even his late wife.

Toji is no stranger to romance. He was married, after all. He knows love. It's a familiar feeling.

That's why he's inclined to believe that what he feels for you isn't love. No, what he feels for you is far too primal to be love. It's rough and all-consuming. It's nothing like the soothing feeling he had around his wife.

Love wraps around one's heart like a warm blanket. This wraps around his heart like a python.

But if it's not love, what is it?

Actually, scratch that. It doesn't matter.

Whatever it is, it's some form of desire. And if he desires something, then all he has to do is take it.

Yes, it's better to keep these kinds of things simple rather than getting tied up in technicalities.

There is a problem, however. He'd like nothing more than to just lock you up and keep you for himself, but with his somewhat unstable income and his habit of bouncing around from place to place, that isn't exactly feasible.

Ah, what to do...?

He could settle down or stop spending his money as soon as he earns it, but where's the fun in that?

No, rather than try to adapt to your lifestyle, he'd much rather force you to adapt to his. Still, he supposes some sacrifices will be necessary, as his lifestyle is currently only fit for one.

You'll have to quit your job since you'll be moving around from place to place alongside him, but he'll just take on some more jobs to cover the extra cost; it's no big deal.

He proposes the idea to you so matter-of-factly that it's almost as if he believes you to have already agreed to the plan beforehand. In reality, this is your first time hearing of such a thing, and you're so stunned that you momentarily lose your voice.

You've known this man for two, no, maybe three weeks, and yet he's asking you to drop everything and come overseas with him? You're not even friends! He's just a regular at the cafe you're employed with.

It dawns on you that he must be joking, so you chuckle awkwardly and avert your gaze. Perhaps you simply haven't known him long enough to gauge his sense of humour. You feel a little embarrassed for nearly having taken him so seriously.

Then, he shows you the plane tickets.

Bewildered, you end up being more blunt than you perhaps meant to: "I'm not going," you say, pushing his tickets back to him.

"Sweetheart," he says dryly. "I'm not asking." You shoot him a strained, confused smile, which quickly morphs into a more genuine one as the door chimes.

To think you'd ever be happy to serve a customer. It's a foreign sentiment, but if it means an end to this strange interaction, you'd happily serve a hundred---no, maybe even a thousand customers.

You take their order and get to making their drink, shooting quick glances at the man---Toji, you think---from behind the bar.

He hasn't taken his eyes off of you.

It's days like this that you wish the company wasn't so stingy about hiring more than one person for shifts. You're about to clock out, and if that man is going to stay until closing, you'd really like to have a coworker walk you back to your car.

It's twenty minutes until closing when Toji finally leaves. You let out an unconscious sigh of relief, feeling your shoulders relax. That was weird, but you shouldn't have to see him again, right? He's going overseas tomorrow, after all.

Yeah, you won't see him again. Thank goodness.

It's with that thought in mind that you flip the "We're open!" sign to its side and lock the doors. It's only 6 PM, but the fall season means it's already dark. You shiver from a cool breeze as you make your way towards your car at last.

Huh. Flat tire.

Ryomen Sukuna

Those who know of Sukuna will inevitably feel sorry for anyone who happens to catch his gaze. Sorcerer or not, none will ever possess even a fraction of the strength he carries, and for someone like Sukuna, that means you're no better than a bug to be trampled on.

What a poor, pitiful thing you are. You must be treated more like a pet than a person. A plaything for him to toy with, to discard once you've ceased to entertain.

However, this interpretation couldn't be more wrong.

What others fail to realise is that Sukuna would never waste his time on someone he doesn't consider his equal. Weak as you may be, there's something about you that seems different in his eyes.

Like a precious gem left unpolished, there's a certain allure to you that only a trained eye could see, and he'll be damned if he lets anyone else stake a claim on you first.

No, he'll be the one to bring out your true potential.

Sukuna has never met someone worthy of being his companion. This has never bothered him, however. Loneliness was not something he was familiar with. There are those who have tried, of course, to prove their worth, to stand by his side, but none have ever moved him.

None until you, that is.

The funny thing is that you don't even try to win his attention. You never once asked for his gaze to land upon you. And yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Sukuna doesn't know what to do with you. You make him feel things he's never felt before.

Is this weakness? Is it love?

Is there a difference between the two at all?

Should he kill you? Should he keep you?

What can he do to make these feelings go away? What can he do to ensure they never go away?

In exchange for not pillaging your homeland, the townspeople offer you up as a sacrifice. It was Uraume's idea.

At midnight, you're dragged out of the comfort of your home and tied to a stake, where you stay for hours. By dawn, you've worn yourself out with struggle, dried blood sticking to your hands and the ropes around your wrists, when a white-haired stranger comes to collect you.

The stranger undoes your bindings, but only the ones keeping you bound to the pole. You're dragged along like a dog on a leash for countless hours until you eventually arrive at the largest estate you've ever seen in your life. It's midday when you're untied and allowed to bathe. The warm water releases all the tension from your aching muscles, and as you bathe, the white-haired fellow replaces the garments you arrived in with robes made of fine silk.

The stranger's name is Uraume, they tell you. They'll be taking care of you until their master is ready to meet with you.

"What happens after that?" you ask tentatively.

Uruame flashes you a smile that refuses to answer.

Before you know it, a full week has passed you by. You're still yet to see this so-called master, but Uraume tells you not to worry. After all, the master has already seen you lots of times, they say.

The thought of being watched in secret sends a shiver down your spine.

Though the prison is large, you're confined to only one wing of the estate, and after a week of having nothing to do but wander, you have the entire layout memorized. Bored and unattended, you decide to venture out into the unknown past the garden's gates. There, you come face-to-face with the largest man you've ever laid eyes upon.

A hulking figure with four arms and fiery pink hair turns to you, and in an instant, you fall to the ground, only vaguely aware of the blood pooling around you and the pain across your chest.

In truth, Sukuna had tried to kill you, but his technique missed your vitals. It takes him a moment of watching your blood ooze out of the open wound to realize he did it on purpose. Before he even realizes it, he's picked you up in his lower arms and applied reverse cursed technique to your injury. You've lost consciousness, and your pulse is weak, but you aren't dead. Relief floods through Sukuna's veins as he listens to your soft breathing.

From that day on, you're never to leave his side unless absolutely necessary. From that day on, Sukuna has someone worthy of standing by his side, not as a servant, nor a pet, but as a companion. From that day on, Sukuna has a lover.

Whether you like it or not.

Mahito

As a curse born from the hatred and fear humans feel towards their own kind, Mahito relishes humanity's anguish and despair. He kills without a second thought, not caring who he hurts or who gets swept up into his path of mass destruction.

So why is it that this particular human sways him so? Why is it that he thinks your soul looks pretty, just the way it is? Why does he want to touch you but not to warp you beyond repair?

Why does he want you to look at him? Why does he want to scoop your eyes out of your sockets so that you can never look away?

To be a curse is to always follow your own desires, no matter how contradictory or inconsistent---that's the motto that Mahito lives by.

So, of course, this philosophy applies to you as well.

It doesn't make sense, and he doesn't understand it. But that doesn't matter to him. Why would it? He's a curse, and curses take what they want. What he wants is you, so, of course, he has to take you, too.

Mahito doesn't spend long watching you before he makes his move. First, he has to check if you can even see curses to begin with. If you can, that'll make things easier. But if you can't...well, that'll be fun too.

He bumps into you at the train station around 2 AM. It was a late night at work, and you're now dead on your feet. There's no one around, so it's the perfect time for him to test you. He taps your shoulder with a smile.

If you don't react, he starts feeling you up, talking aloud about how much he wants you as his hands roam your body.

"Mm, you're so weak," he says, palm on your stomach. "Look at you, all unguarded. If I wanted to, I could take your soul and just—" he squeezes the flesh on your abdomen. "—until you go splat! Hmm, but I don't really want to do that. I wonder why?" His hand trails down to your hips, brushing past—but not quite landing on—your private areas.

"It's weird, isn't it? You can't even see me. You don't even know I exist. But I know you exist." He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together. "Humans usually wear rings when they're married, right? I wonder why you don't have one? You're such a catch," he giggles. "Ah, well, I guess it's better for me. Less work, y'know?Though, I would have liked to see the look on your face, coming home to dear, sweet hubby, all mangled up in your living room. I wouldn't even bother transfiguring him. No, I'd want you to see his face clearly, all contorted in pain with his guts splayed out all over the floor."

He follows you home. You still can't see him, but you at least seem a little aware of his presence, with the way you keep glancing over your shoulder, randomly picking up the pace and taking more turns than necessary.

How fascinating! You can't see him, and yet you can sense him? He's swooning already.

"Don't worry, [First]," he says, arms around your shoulders as you fumble with your keys. "You'll be able to see me soon. And after that, you're never getting rid of me."

If you do react, however, he holds himself back, opting to strike up a lighthearted conversation with you instead.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?" He asks. "Don't you know the subway is dangerous at night?" You visibly bristle, clearly on guard. He grins.

"Do you need something?" You ask, clutching your bag to your chest and stepping back. His grin widens, easily closing the distance you've just created.

"You're lonely, aren't you? All you do is work; you don't even have any friends! It's kind of pathetic, really. That's okay, though, I like you anyway. I might be the only one."

"What do you---"

"I could help you, you know. Ease your loneliness, maybe?" He's touching you now. Nothing outright inappropriate, but you could smell his intentions from a mile away.

"No thanks," you say. The train stops, and you hurry off the platform. Fortunately, the stranger doesn't get off with you. He waves at you as the doors close, and you run all the way home.

Finally feeling safe, you don't bother to do anything more than kick off your shoes before collapsing on your bed. It creaks under your weight, then creaks again. You freeze, your eyes shooting open.

"Heya," the stranger says. "Fancy seeing you again."

Choso Kamo

If you were to describe him in one word, 'inexperienced' may be your best bet.

Though it's true that he has 'lived' for over one hundred and fifty years, he spent most of that time as a cursed womb, unable to truly experience the outside world for himself. Even after being incarnated and absorbing the memories of his host, Choso finds himself unable to relate to any of his body's experiences. He knows what love is and what lovers do, but only from a technical standpoint. To actually experience it is something he's never even dreamed of doing.

So, of course, when he starts feeling these things for you, he's unable to properly put a label on them. At first, he thinks he's sick, which isn't unreasonable, considering his rather long list of symptoms (fever, shakes, sweats, heart palpitations, and clouded mind, he notes dutifully).

However, that idea is quickly shut down. Being a cursed womb death painting, it's highly unlikely that he even can get sick; plus, his symptoms only seem to surface when you're around (or when he's thinking of you, which, admittedly, is often).

Did you curse him? No, you don't have a technique like that.

Then, what...?

It takes him a somewhat embarrassingly long time for him to realise the truth behind his feelings. It isn't until after he catches himself staring at your lips and thinking about how soft they'd feel against his that he concludes he likes you.

So, he's figured it out. Now what...?

Choso searches through his host's memories in an attempt to figure out how to woo you. Unfortunately for him, his host was a frat boy with commitment issues who knew more about one-night stands than how to build the foundations for an actual relationship.

So, Choso consults Yuki Tsukimo, who he, with his very limited circle of friends, considers to be an expert.

As expected, Yuki is ecstatic at the news that Choso has found his type. Immediately, she's giving an impromptu lecture on the ways of the heart.

"First, you have to figure out their type," she says, wagging a finger. "If it's a match, you're all good. If not, you either need to give up or double down."

Through Yuki's mentoring, Choso learned the general rules for signalling romantic interest. Flowers, chocolates, walks in the park, walks on the beach—a lot of walking in general, actually—candlelit dinner, pick-up lines—he's got it all memorized.

The problem is that his throat gets dry, and his knees lock up when he so much as thinks about talking to you.

So he takes to following you with his eyes instead.

"It's just until I gather the courage to talk to them," he tells himself. "I'll stop once I figure out their type."

Right, if he can't ask you about your interests, he'll just have to observe them instead.

So, he watches you. All the time. Eventually, he all but forgets about his previous plan of it being a temporary habit.

It's just so...addicting. Watching you go about your day like normal. Completely unaware of his presence in the shadows. 

He learns about your hobbies, your interests, what kind of shows you like, your favourite foods, whether you still keep stuffed animals in your room, and more. He has a mental folder of all your likes and dislikes. And while there are some things he’s not able to learn, some places he’s not able to follow, it’s enough. Just knowing this much is perfect. 

He doesn't do anything. He doesn't plan to, either. He’s content with just watching. It's comfortable like this. He doesn't want anything to change. So, he forgets about stopping, and instead sinks even deeper into his newfound obsession.

If he had it his way, things would stay like this forever. Him, never confessing, and you, never knowing. But, unfortunately, fate had other plans in mind.

It was 10:15 AM, and you were at a local coffee shop by yourself when the barista handed you their number with your receipt. You shyly accepted, and just a day later, the two of you had plans for a date the next week.

Unfortunately, your 'date' canceled last minute and blocked you with no explanation.

It's a good thing, then, that your good friend Choso just so happened to bump into you, lending you his shoulder to cry on.

Well, there's no reason to waste a good dinner reservation, right?

You never do go back to that cafe, but if you did, you'd find the barista missing from the register.

[daxisyzz]

Close encounters

Pairings: avenger!bucky barnes × avenger!reader

Summary: On an undercover mission, you and Bucky pose as a married couple to infiltrate an illegal weapons auction—but when a stolen kiss becomes part of the plan, the line between duty and desire starts to blur.

Word count: 1.2k+

Tags: Flirty Bucky, fight sequence, undercover mission, teasing, kissing.

A/n: I had posted a grumpy Bucky fic but hated it. So I deleted it. I think I like this better. If u ever want grumpy Bucky lemme know. Requests are open. Enjoyyyy!!

Part 2- Double-Edged

The mission was simple: extract intel from a black-market arms dealer, stay undetected, and get out before things went sideways. Simple—until Steve decided to pair you with James Buchanan Barnes.

You stepped out of the limo, adjusting your dress as you scanned the sketchy building for exits and weak points. Bucky stepped out after you, his sharp gaze sweeping over the area before turning toward you. He leaned down, voice low.

“You clean up nice, doll,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he adjusted the clasp of your necklace. His fingers skimmed the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your pulse picked up.

“Try to focus, Barnes. We have a job to do.”

“I am focused,” he said, smirking.

“On my wife.”You ignored him.

The mission had led you both to an underground auction, where dangerous people gathered to bid on illegal weapons. Your cover: a wealthy couple looking to expand their business.

The plan: Bucky would distract the seller while you slipped into a secure backroom to steal classified files.But first, you had to sell the act.

As you entered the venue, Bucky’s hand found the small of your back, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your dress. The casual possessiveness of it made your breath hitch—just for a second.

“Relax, doll,” he murmured, voice smooth as ever.

“Gotta make it look real.”You forced yourself to ignore the warmth of his touch, keeping your focus on the room instead.

“Just don’t overdo it, Barnes.”

He smirked. “Too late.”

You took your seats near the auction stage, scanning the crowd for your target. Anton Markov sat in a private booth, surrounded by bodyguards.You turned to Bucky.

“I’ll need five minutes alone in that backroom.”His gaze flickered with something unreadable.

“Then we’ll get you five minutes.”

The auctioneer began presenting rare weapons, but you weren’t paying attention. You were focused on Markov, waiting for an opening.Bucky, however, was focused on you.

You wore a satin dress that fit in all the right places. The ring Steve had made you both wear to sell the act glinted under the chandelier’s warm glow, bringing a smirk to Bucky’s face.

“Stop staring,” you muttered.

“I’m your husband,” he said, leaning in.

“Gotta make it look real.”You shot him a glare.

“You’re enjoying this.”His lips twitched.

“A little.”

Your eyes flicked back to the target as he finally left his booth, heading toward the bar. Now was your chance.You stood, brushing a hand over Bucky’s thigh as you did. The touch was fleeting, unintentional—except for the way he tensed ever so slightly.

“I’ll be back, honey,” you said, keeping up the act.

“Wait for my signal,” you murmured before slipping away.

You moved stealthily through the crowd, unnoticed by the guards.The backroom was locked, but you made quick work of it with your hairpin, slipping inside. Rows of servers lined the walls, buzzing with encrypted data. You approached the main computer, pulling up the classified files. Plugging in a drive, you watched the transfer bar crawl forward. Almost there…

Then—footsteps.

Your stomach dropped. You barely had time to pull your gun from the thigh holster beneath your dress before the door opened.Two guards stepped in.

“Boss said to check the servers,” one muttered.

You held your breath, staying out of their line of sight. The download wasn’t complete. If they noticed…

Before you could form a plan, the door burst open again—and in walked Bucky. His scowl was murderous, jaw clenched tight.He moved fast. One guard barely had time to react before Bucky knocked him out cold. The second reached for his gun, but Bucky grabbed his wrist, twisting until there was a sickening crack.The room fell silent.You exhaled.

“That was not the plan,” you said, stepping out.

“They got suspicious,” Bucky replied, scanning the monitors.

“Had to improvise.”You rolled your eyes.

“You just wanted to be dramatic.”

“Did it impress you?”You ignored him, yanking the drive free just as an alarm blared.

“Time to go.”

Security flooded the halls. Your only escape? A side door leading to a back alley. You sprinted toward it, but a guard rounded the corner—gun raised.

Before you could react, Bucky grabbed you by the waist, spinning you so your back hit the wall, his body shielding yours. His hands found your face, and then—His lips crashed against yours.

Your mind blanked.

He kissed you slowly, deliberately, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.It took a second to register what was happening. Then your hands gripped the lapels of his suit, the fabric creasing under your tight hold as you kissed him back.A deep sound rumbled from his throat—something between a groan and a satisfied hum.

The guard hesitated, taking you for just another couple sneaking a moment away from the bustling crowd.The second the guard moved on, Bucky pulled away, eyes dark with something unreadable.You swallowed hard.

“What the hell was that?”

“Had to make it convincing,” he said smoothly.

You didn’t get a chance to argue before more guards closed in. Bucky grabbed your hand, pulling you down the hall and out the door.By the time you reached the safe house, your heart was still racing—but not from the escape.

Inside, the chaos of the mission faded into a quiet that felt both relieving and… unsettlingly intimate. You dropped onto a worn couch, still feeling the buzz of adrenaline, while Bucky leaned against the table, a roguish grin playing on his lips.

“Not bad for a ‘just undercover’ kiss,” he said lightly, eyes dancing as he regarded you.

You shifted uncomfortably, trying to mask the quickened beat of your pulse. “That was a necessity, Barnes. Don’t read more into it than you have to.”Bucky stepped closer, his tone teasing.

“Oh, come on. I got a kiss out of you. It was… unexpected, sure, but pretty damn effective.”

You rolled your eyes, a small, involuntary smile tugging at your lips despite your best efforts. “Effective for the mission, maybe. I didn’t exactly plan on playing into any romantic script.”

He brushed a hand lightly along your arm, the contact sending an undeniable shiver through you. “Maybe you didn’t plan it, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me want to see more of that fire—even if you’re all business most of the time.”

You tried to keep your tone steady, though your cheeks betrayed you. “Barnes, you’re unbelievable. One minute we’re dodging guards, the next you’re flirting like we’re off-duty.”

“Off-duty or not, you did kiss me back,” he replied with a wink. “And honestly, that might just be worth the risk.”

For a long moment, you stared at him, flustered and momentarily at a loss for words. Finally, you cleared your throat. “Maybe. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m here to get the job done—nothing more.”

Bucky’s smile softened, though the playful glint in his eyes remained. “Sure, doll. But if you ever do decide to let a little distraction in, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

You let out a reluctant laugh, shaking your head. “Keep dreaming, Barnes. Just stick to the mission next time.”He chuckled, leaning in just enough that you felt the warmth of his breath.

“No promises,” he murmured.

“After all, I like finding ways to keep things interesting.”

In that charged, easy moment, the safe house became more than just a hideout. It became a space where even a well-timed kiss could blur the lines between duty and desire.

[xo-hoon]

25 Days Later — p.sh

minors do not interact!

pairing: ethical serial dater!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fake to real relationship trope

synopsis: For Park Sunghoon, relationships should remain uncomplicated. With life already filled with complexities, he believes that dating should only last for twenty-five days—just enough time to enjoy each other's company before parting ways. And there’s Yoon Y/n, who was driven by her curiosity rather than romance, finds herself intrigued by Sunghoon's unconventional plan, prompting her to join him for these twenty-five days. Yet, beneath their playful interactions, an unpredictable tension hints that things may not be as simple as they appear.

word count: 39k (i’m sorry?)

warnings: protected sex (YES! PRACTICE SAFE SEX), Sohyun from triple S as Hoon’s twin sister (love that), reader has a bragger moment, mentions of corpses and dead people, mentions of accidents. I stopped putting indications midway cause i have already reached the maximum of ten photos per post thing (still don’t know how this works). Grammatical and typographical errors ahead!

Day 26

Sunghoon just stared blankly at the screen of the laptop in front of him. His canvas was empty, and it seemed like he didn’t know where to start with everything he had to do.

He knew he had to get to work. There was a deadline he needed to chase—one website, a set of marketing materials, and cover studies for a book set to release three months from now. But damn, his brain just

wouldn’t cooperate. There was only one thing on his mind since last night:

Yoon Y/n.

Sunghoon was confused. It shouldn’t be like this. He’d spent years perfecting his dating lifestyle, and he’d never messed up. Nothing like this had ever happened to him after nearly a month of getting close to a woman.

His heart pounded harder as his mind filled with thoughts of Y/n.

He roughly ran his hands over his face, even tugging at his hair in frustration. "Fuck! Is karma getting back at me?”

He looked up, staring blankly at the ceiling as he recalled Y/n’s beautiful face—the sweet smile, the lively laugh, the softness of her hair, the smoothness of her skin, and that night…

Then he remembered her tears, the sadness in her eyes, the words she’d said that cut deep into his heart…

He cursed himself repeatedly as he realized just how big of an asshole he’d been. He needed to do something to redeem himself and save the only romantic relationship he could describe as real. He saved his work, then shut down his computer. He quickly showered and got dressed.

He needed to talk to Y/n.

In just minutes, he was already on the road. If he could, he’d have flown his car just to reach her house sooner. He could already see her family’s house when a motorcycle suddenly cut in from his side.

He swerved to avoid the rider, but even though he managed to dodge the motorcyclist, his car collided with a streetlight instead.

The screeching sound of tires and the crash of metal filled his ears. Then, darkness consumed Sunghoon…

Day 0

“Are you really listening to erotica?” His twin sister Sohyun teased, putting the earbud back in his own ear to hear what audiobook Sunghoon was enjoying.

Sunghoon laughed at his sister’s mocking expression. “Is that what you’re listening to? No wonder you didn’t hear me knocking on the door for the past ten minutes” she exclaimed incredulously. “Wow! I never knew you had this side to you, Hoon.”

“You're over exaggerating,” the male chuckled. He turned his attention from the cover of a young adult fiction novel and glanced at his brother. “First of all, you’re overreacting again. Second, you have a key, so you didn’t need to knock. Third, I’m doing this to drown out the music from the neighbors.” There was a wedding resort next to his apartment, and he often heard the wedding march two to three times a day. During June or December, it could reach five to seven times, and he was already fed up with it. “And fourth, I’m working, so of course, I need to concentrate.”

“Yeah, right. Just admit it—you’re only focusing on the love scenes in that audiobook,” Sohyun smirked.

“Fifth,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard his sister’s interjection, “This isn’t erotica. There was just a love scene, and you happened to catch me at that part. It's not even that explicit; the sex is just implied.” He didn’t want to sound defensive, but that’s exactly how it seemed based on Sohyun's smirk.

The woman settled on the sofa in his small apartment, which he was still paying for with his income as a freelance web developer and digital artist.

“I have a date later. I found a physical copy of this book in her bag, so I searched for the audiobook. Of course, I need some ammo in case our conversation turns in that direction.”

“Oh.” His sister shrugged. “Well, you're practically an authority on what women want. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”

That was sarcasm. Even though his sister's way if delivering the statement didn't make it obvious, Sunghoon was sure of it. He laughed. “Is it really an exaggeration to call me an authority? I’m not an expert. I don’t know everything that women want, dear sister—just some things. Honestly, I think your kind is too complicated to fully grasp. I just happen to know a few bits.”

His twin snorted. “It doesn’t suit you; stop pretending to be humble. I know the story about how you’ve supposedly spent years studying the perfect dating formula.”

She took a sip from her paper cup and shifted the conversation. “Anyway, speaking of dating, who are you seeing now? And how many days has it been?”

He smiled. “Are you interested now?”

She rolled her eyes, but his grin widened. “Her name is Daehi. Yoon Daehi. I met her at Jay's birthday party,” Sunghoon explained, referring to a friend. “She’s a high school teacher—smart, a bit immature—which is understandable since she’s still young, kind of boring, and we’ve only gone out once. Tonight is our second date.”

“You call her boring, yet you’re still pursuing her?”

“It’s bearable. Plus, you know I prefer that they break up with me before twenty-five days, right? I’m a gentleman like that.”

Sohyun snorted again. “I’m quite surprised that you’ve managed to convince a lot of people with that 25-day theory of yours. I heard a TV show even contacted you, saying that they wanted to feature you.”

“I declined,” he replied with a proud smile. “I’d like to keep my life private, thank you very much. I told them that if they really wanted to feature me, I could consider discussing my theory with them, but they shouldn’t include me in the feature. They agreed.”

No, Sunghoon wasn’t a celebrity. It just so happened that he and many of his acquaintances had been in multiple relationships, allowing him, at twenty-four, to calculate the ideal duration of a romantic relationship—twenty-five days. It could be shorter, but it shouldn’t exceed twenty-five days, because after that, the thrill is gone. The romance fades, and there’s a boredom factor that creeps in between a couple.

And it seemed that many of his friends who had tried this approach agreed with him.

He had also been offered interviews with magazines several times, but he turned them down. He did want to inform people to help them, though.

Sunghoon believed that if everyone followed his formula, many would be spared from heartbreaks and unrealistic expectations. Many would enjoy life more and be happy.

Of course, there were those who disagreed with him—the traditionalists, the religious folks, the ultra-feminists, the sentimental romantics, and those who turned a blind eye to reality. But why should he let them affect him? His life had been free of heartaches since he started practicing the 25-day dating method three years ago. There was one time he had to file a temporary restraining order against a woman who wouldn’t leave him alone, and there were two or three others who still contacted him, unable to move on. But generally, things were good! He had never been this happy before, and dating had never been this fun.

Sunghoon glanced at his sister, who was merely three minutes older than him. “If I were, I would follow my own advice, and I bet you wouldn’t be sad right now.” Sohyun raised a hand in protest. “Oh, no. Don’t involve me in your nonsense. I’m happy being the single, strong, and independent woman that I am, so no thanks.”

“So, you don’t have plans on getting married?” he pressed.

“If I do, then I do. If I don’t, then I don’t,” she replied nonchalantly. “What matters is that I’m not at risk of getting HIV, unlike you.”

Sunghoon laughed. “Is that what you really think of me? Of course, I practice safe sex. And for the record, I didn’t sleep with all of them. Out of the fourteen, it was only about five, maybe six, or even seven.”

“Well, good luck to you then. I hope karma doesn’t catch up with you and slap you with some sexually transmitted disease, or that so-called true love that others talk about, or just a dose of your own medicine, or whatever.” He laughed even harder. “True love, huh? You still believe in that?”

Sunghoon guessed that his sister was still a virgin, unlike him. He hadn’t met any of her boyfriends, although she had admirers. It was also impossible for her to be a lesbian since she would blush over Kim Soohyun and other handsome, muscular K-actors. He suspected that his twin sister had been disheartened before but just didn’t talk about it. Or maybe she simply had high standards.

Sohyun shrugged and took another sip of her coffee. “My dear brother, just because we haven’t experienced something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, right? Besides, I didn’t come here to discuss your theories on love’s existence.”

He pretended to furrow his brow at her. “Oh, so you just missed arguing with me?”

“Well, there’s a bit of truth to that.” He caught a glimpse of a smile forming at the corner of his sister's lips. “Anyway, I just wanted to mention that I have a friend who’s interested in testing your theory. She wants to date you.”

His eyebrows raised. Someone volunteered?Interesting. This was only the third time something like this had happened. “Alright, how old is she?”

Her sister shot him a look of disbelief. “Really, Hoon? That’s your first question?”

“What?” Sunghoon shrugged.

"She’s a year older than us. She said she was curious about your theory. Also, you’re dating her younger sister, and she wants to spare her from the upcoming heartbreak, so she’s stepping in to date you instead.”

“Huh?” he asked, confused.

“She’s Daehi’s older sister, and she wants you to apply your 25-day dating theory with her.”

“Is this... friend of yours also a sociologist?” He asked as his sister had a doctorate in that field.

She shook her head. “She’s a classmate of mine from the writing workshop I attended last month. We got close after meeting up for coffee regularly.”

“So she’s a writer wannabe too?” he asked, still puzzled.

“Uh-huh. And she’s also a teacher, patissier, sculptor, surfer, future architect.”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “Wow, she must be really dedicated to her studies.”

His sister just shrugged. “She’s had a lot of jobs. She says she was born curious.”

A slow smile formed on Sunghoon’s lips. He had a feeling he knew the real motive behind this woman’s interest. Maybe she just wanted to study him, being the friend of his sister. “Hmm... so what’s her name?”

“Yoon Y/n.”

“Hmmm…” he said, pondering. “So this Y/n... is she pretty?”

Her sister rolled her eyes. “Wow, I didn’t know you actually had standards.” Sunghoon chuckled as he scratched his nape.

Sohyun reached into the large bag beside her and pulled out her phone, scrolling and tapping on the screen. Then handed the phone to him.

It was a group picture of the women at the coffee shop. His sister zoomed in on the girl next to her, who was holding a book that he recognized as A Little Life by the cover. She had long, wavy brown hair, fair skin, beautiful sharp eyes, and a lovely smile, and a cute mole right below the side of her left eye.

Beautiful. There were other words he could use to describe her, but they would all be synonymous with that one word—beautiful.

“Hmmm,” Sunghoon said, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in his chest and stomach. “So when are you going to give me Yoon Y/n’s number?”

His sister's grin widened. “I knew that she’s your type!” She handed him her phone, where the details of his new date were displayed. “Just don’t hurt her, okay? If you do, I’ll be the one to beat you up.”

“Of course not. No crying; we’ll just have fun.” he teased.

In his mind, Sunghoon was already planning his next moves. He would probably break things off with Daehi tonight—in a sweet, memorable, and romantic way, of course. Then, he’d gently break up with her. He’ll then contact her older sister, who’s more attractive and seems more challenging.

—

Your sister's face was in a deep scowl as she came down to your workplace, which was just below your house.

"Is it true that you'll be going on a date with Park Sunghoon?" Daehi demanded without any preamble.

It seemed she’d already talked to the guy she’d been seeing lately, and judging by her look, things hadn’t gone well between them. She was still dressed for her last date with Park Sunghoon, wearing a black maxi dress and a fully made-up face. You just nodded, continuing to put on your coat, gloves, and mask as you prepared to meet your new client—someone who, apparently, had only been dead for an hour. Yes, your client was indeed deceased. The family business provided funeral and mortuary services, and you often worked as an embalmer as a side line.

"Why are you doing this, Y/n?" she snapped. "What's your damn point?"

You forced yourself to stay calm, keeping your tone steady. "My point is to spare you from getting your heart broken by a man who clearly doesn’t have good intentions for you."

"I'm not that vulnerable!" she insisted, her voice rising.

"Keep it down, Daehi. You might wake the dead." You smirked, glad you had your mask on—seeing you smile would only fuel her anger.

"This isn’t a joke, Y/n. You’re stealing my date," she snapped. "Why do you have to be such a… a homewrecker?!”

"I’m doing it for your own good, Daehi. And seriously, stop being so dramatic. It’s not like you were about to marry him. He’s a serial dater; he won’t take you seriously."

"You don’t know his heart well enough to say that!"

You burst into laughter. "Oh my god, Daehi! Just stop. You sound like you’re in some soap opera. Are you planning to get into acting?"

She stomped her foot in frustration. "But I like Sunghoon!" Her voice cracked, on the verge of tears. "He's funny, sensible, cute, and I'm falling for him. How could you do this to me?"

You rolled your eyes. A week into knowing him, and she was already ‘falling’? Over-the-top.

You finished putting on your work gear and faced her. "See? This is exactly why I’m doing this, Daehi." You pointed at her. "Look at yourself. You’re too emotional, childish, gullible, and you can’t keep your emotions in check. Especially when it’s for someone who has no intention of truly caring for you and will leave within weeks. You’re choosing to put your heart at risk! And yet, you’re mad at me for trying to protect you? Where’s the logic in that, Daehi?"

Her eyes filled with tears, taken aback by your bluntness.

"I’m not a kid, Y/n. I’m twenty-two; I don’t need your protection. I can handle myself."

You shook your head. "That’s a bit of an overstatement."

She glared at you, her tears starting to fall. "Well, I hope he breaks your heart the way you just broke mine," she said before storming off.

You sniggered to yourself. Your sister really was dramatic.

With a shrug, you walked into the prep room, where you spent the next two hours cleaning, draining the blood, removing the internal organs, injecting formaldehyde, dressing, and applying makeup on your client, a fifty-five-year-old woman.

As you were singing along to the Backstreet Boys' I Want It That Way playing over the speakers—a rather ironic choice given your situation—your phone rang in your pocket. Ignoring it at first, you finally checked when the caller proved persistent. The number wasn’t saved in your contacts.

"Hello?" you answered, not bothering to remove your mask.

"Hi! Is this Y/n?" The voice on the other end made your eyes widen and your heart skip a beat.

Damn, eargasm…

"Uh, y-yes."

"This is Sunghoon, Sohyun’s brother."

"Oh," you said, a bit taken aback. "Hi."

"She told me you were interested in dating me—”

You paused mid-stroke as you applied lipstick to the deceased woman in front of you, finding his words a bit odd. "Uhm…well, Sunghoon—"

"Oh, please, don’t tell me you're backing out. I acted like a jerk tonight and told your sister I found you interesting, and now…”

Your eyes went wide again. "Wow, that was quite harsh!"

You heard him sigh. "I’m really sorry. Sometimes, no matter how much I try to say things well, they just come out wrong. But I do mean well for your sister. She’s sweet, and she deserves someone better. We actually just talked—think we’re on good terms again. Anyway, would you like to meet up tomorrow?"

You stared at the body in front of you. "Uh, wait, Sunghoon... I'm kinda in the middle of something right now. Could you message me the details? But yes, I'll definitely meet you tomorrow."

"That’s great!" His deep voice was filled with excitement. "Okay, I’ll message you. See you tomorrow, Y/n."

"Bye." You quickly ended the call, tucking your phone into your pocket while pressing a hand to your chest.

Good lord, that voice could easily narrate an erotic novel.

After taking a few deep breaths, you got back to work. Once you finished, you cleaned up your supplies and stepped out of the room. You encountered one of the staff members and told them that the body was ready to be placed in the coffin.

You removed your lab gown, mask, and gloves, disinfected yourself, and headed to your parents' office.

“I’m going home now, Mom,” you said to your mother, who was busy at her computer, seemingly lost in calculations. As a Certified Public Accountant, she managed the funeral home's accounting books. "Where's Dad?"

"He just took your sister home. She was crying when she came here and wouldn't stop. She said she's going to lock herself in her room to—her words—cry properly."

You chuckled at the newly found information. Your sister could really be the next big K-drama star.

Your mom looked at you closely. "What happened? Did you two have a fight?" You snorted and sat in the chair across from her large oak desk—the one you used whenever you helped with office work. You explained your sister’s infatuation with a notorious serial dater and how you’d tried to keep her from getting involved. You’d learned about this guy from one of her close friends. Apparently, your sister had gone out of her way to befriend one of Sunghoon’s friends just to get introduced and ask him out.

You weren’t sure if she was influenced by your own adventurous streak, but you knew your younger sister well enough—she wasn’t as detached as you were. She was sentimental, naive, and far too trusting. If you let her go through with this dating scheme, she’d end up crying and heartbroken for sure. "I only want to protect her, Mom. It’s really for her own good."

Your mom laughed. "You’re always like this with Daehi. You’re more overprotective of her than your dad and I are."

You shrugged. "Well, look at your daughter.” It’s like she doesn’t have a brain, you wanted to add.

"But why did you have to volunteer to take her place?" Your mom raised an eyebrow. "You actually want to get involved in that twenty-five-day whatever?"

You scratched your temple. "I just thought it might be easier for him to let go of Daehi if he already has a new date. And, honestly, I’m curious, too, Mom."

Your mother watched you carefully, concern evident in her eyes. "Are you sure you can stay objective while dating that guy? What if you end up falling for him and get hurt?" she asked, worried.

You laughed. "Mom! The man is practically a robot. He has no heart; he plays with women and drops them after twenty-five days. That’s it. How could I ever fall for someone like that?" You almost added, Do you think I’m that foolish? If you didn’t fall for the decent suitors you’d had before, why would you fall for someone like him? It would be a waste of your Business Management degree and your soon-to-be degree in Architecture if you did.

"I hope so. I don’t want to see you get hurt, Y/n."

"Don’t worry, Mom. I know exactly what I’m getting into. This is nothing personal, just like my other little misadventures. I’m just curious."

Her expression softened into a smile. "I was just like that when I was young, too. It’s okay to be free-spirited, dear, but don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?"

You gave a playful eye roll but smiled. "Mom, if I weren’t careful, would I still be coming home in one piece after everything I’ve done?"

You’d already done a three-day mountain trek, cared for tigers at a zoo, gone skydiving, and much much more.

"Sometimes, sweetheart, no matter how cautious you are, life can still surprise you," she said with a knowing smile.

"Alright, head on home before I end up using today’s earnings just to pay for your overtime." You chuckled. "You’re exaggerating, Mom." You stood up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Good night."

"Good night, dear. I’ll be home soon, just need to finish up a few things here."

Day 01

If Sunghoon had been less self-assured—if he didn’t have confidence in himself—he might have felt small under the scrutiny he was receiving. It was a stark contrast to the obvious admiration he’d seen on Daehi’s face when they first met. But since he was well aware that he didn’t look bad, he simply held your gaze, studying your features just as carefully as you did.

The night before, he had made his last date with Daehi extra special. Believing that honesty was the best policy, he’d told her about what her sister had said and admitted his interest. She’d walked out, ignoring his repeated calls until, finally, around ten, she picked up.

—

"I feel like a jerk for doing this to you, and I’m really sorry,"

he had said.

"Good that you know!"

she replied.

"I really am sorry."

He heard her sigh on the other end.

“It’s fine, Hoon. I appreciate your honesty. Honestly, my sister is more interesting than me."

"No, no, that’s not what I meant, Daehi—"

"And,"

she cut him off,

“If I’m being honest with myself, I’d admit that there wasn’t much spark between us anyway. Sure, I had a crush on you, but it was more like we were just siblings agreeing to go out on dates."

He exhaled in relief.

“Maybe I just wasn’t the right guy for you. You’re a sweet girl, Daehi; you deserve someone better. Someone who’s not a jerk like me."

"I know, right?"

She laughed on the other end.

He found himself smiling, too.

“So, have you already met my sister?”

There didn’t seem to be any bitterness in her voice anymore.

“I’m calling her tonight."

Daehi giggled.

“Now that I think about it, you two might actually be a good match."

—

He hadn’t fully understood what that meant until he finally got to call you. Your voice sounded muffled, as if there was something covering your mouth while you spoke to him, but he quickly noticed that you didn’t seem like your sister, who was sweet, fun-loving, and romantic. From your tone and demeanor—even though he could barely hear it—Sunghoon could already sense you were more direct, even strict.

Now, facing you in person, his impression was slightly different. You looked like… a scientist—a scientist who was carefully studying some microorganism under a microscope. And he was that microorganism.

To his surprise, you were far more stunning in person than in the photo his twin had shown him—who had even called him earlier to wish him luck. And every part of him that could heat up practically did when he saw you up close.

You weren’t dressed in anything revealing. A simple white satin dress and sandals with a slight heel, not overly curvy or busty, but you radiated an undeniable sex appeal. Sunghoon didn’t know if you had this effect on every man, but on him? If he could—if he really could—he’d grab you, steal a kiss, and whisk you away somewhere private. But, of course, that wasn’t an option. He wasn’t raised that way, after all. Plus, he wanted to get to know you… and stare a little longer. Your face was stunning, such a pleasure to look at.

"You look… okay." It took a moment for Sunghoon to register what you’d said.

"Hmm? Excuse me?" he replied, a bit confused.

You shrugged. "I said you don’t look bad.” you rephrased your statement from earlier, yet, it still sounded unpleasant to his ears.

Wow, who does this woman thinks she is? and what kind of men does she interact with? Models or celebrities, perhaps?

Sunghoon had never met anyone—whether a girl, boy, or someone from the LGBTQ+ community—who called him ugly. Never. The worst comments he’d received were about his skin being too fair, or that his teeth were too white, or that his nose was too perfect, but no one had ever said, or even hinted, that he looked bad.

He couldn't take his eyes off your face. "What do you mean? Am I ugly?"

You laughed. "If you’re ugly, then what do you call an average person?"

Sunghoon exhaled and smiled. Okay, maybe he just panicked and exaggerated a little bit. It seemed that you weren’t being harsh after all. He was just about to open his mouth to thank you when you continued speaking.

"I’m just curious on why you’re doing this. You don’t seem disillusioned. With your looks, you don’t look like someone who would reject someone heartlessly." His smile widened. "Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself."

It seemed like you didn’t even hear what he said and continued your statement. “Unless you have a really terrible personality," you added, which made him frown again. "Or maybe you have smelly feet—"

"Hey, hey, hey, hold it." Sunghoon raised a hand to stop you. "My personality isn’t bad, and my feet definitely don’t smell. I’m doing this 25-day dating thing because it’s effective."

"Says who?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Says my three-year record, my unbroken heart, and my happy, stress-free life," he replied confidently. "And a lot of my friends agree with me."

One corner of your mouth lifted in a smirk, and he hated how cute he found that. "Really? Is that so?" Hoon grew serious and crossed his arms. You were confusing him, honestly. He couldn’t tell if you were interested or not. While you became more attractive in his eyes, he was also starting get annoyed by your comments.

"So, what do you want to say?" He shrugged. "Why are we here now?"

"Because I'm curious."

He had a feeling that wouldn’t be the first time that word would come up between you.

"Okay. So you’re willing to do this with me just because you’re curious?" You nodded. "You’ll be wasting twenty-five days of your life just to satisfy that curiosity."

You took a sip of iced coffee from the plastic cup you were holding. "That’s fine. I’m naturally curious. I’ve made most of my big decisions out of curiosity." He didn’t quite believe you, but he decided not to say anything.

He took a deep breath and explained like he was some kind of a tour guide, "So we'll date for twenty-five days, and then we’ll go our separate ways. No hard feelings, no regrets."

"I know that," you nodded, as if you were one of his clients negotiating about projects. Very professional of you.

He sighed, clearly frustrated. "This is so weird."

"Why?" you laughed lightly. "Your dates know the rules too, right? You’ve surely briefed them about it."

"Yes," Sunghoon agreed, "but never like this. They didn’t come in with another motive. They just wanted to get to know me genuinely."

"I actually want to get to know you too," you replied. "What do you mean?"

"It just feels so… unromantic. Impersonal, you know? Like we’re making a business deal."

You laughed again, and damn, why did he find that so cute? He really shouldn’t be feeling that way anymore. "Because this is sort of a business deal, right?"

"That’s not completely true!" he insisted. "If that’s how you think, this isn’t going to end well."

"I'm willing to cooperate," you said seriously.

He scratched his neck. "It doesn’t feel like we’re on a date. It feels like you’re conducting a social experiment, and I’m your subject."

"In a way, that’s correct. I want to get to know you and understand why you’re doing this."

He was getting really annoyed at this point. "Why does that sound like you think I'm some second-rate person just because I chose to handle my love life this way?"

"I'm not judging you, Sunghoon," you replied calmly, which helped keep his irritation in check.

"You’re definitely an interesting person, and I know it’s not just because of this 25-day dating method. But I guess you can’t blame me if I focus on that aspect, right?" You clenched your jaw, trying to avoid saying anything too harsh. "But please don’t take it personally. My curiosity led me to that writing workshop where I met your sister, to continue my studies, and to create that long list of job experiences. So?"

How could he explain this? The theory was meant to be objective to avoid heartache, but the people involved shouldn’t be too detached either. How could you both enjoy your time together if, in the back of his mind, he felt like you were analyzing him? And if you were constantly looking for flaws in his theory, how could he genuinely like you?

"Like I said, I’ve made plenty of decisions just out of curiosity, so this isn’t really different from those."

Oh, really?

He almost voiced his thoughts. Why did it seem like you had ulterior motives? Was it that you were out to disprove his theory? Irritation flared up inside him. Well, you were in for a surprise; he was determined to make you like him so much that you’d forget this whole dating experiment was merely about curiosity.

"Okay, deal," Sunghoon replied.

Your smile was captivating, and for about two point three seconds, he found it hard to breathe. Yet, he was also annoyed because your smile felt like a challenge. You were quickly turning into a mystery for him.

Ah, now he was becoming curious about you too.

How could he feel both frustrated and attracted to one person?

—

"So what do you think?"

Your friend Sohyun asked from the other end of the phone. You had just come home from your meet-up with her brother and had barely stepped into your room.

"I think we’re perfect for each other,"

You replied, deliberately being dramatic.

You could hear Sohyun gasp from the other line, which made you laugh.

"You sound surprised,"

You remarked.

"Now that I think about it, you and Hoon do seem perfect for each other. He’s a guy whose commitment lasts only twenty-five days, and you’re a girl who gets attached only until her curiosity is satisfied. You both seem to have perfected the art of moving on. It works."

"I know, right?"

you replied as you settled down on your bed.

"I think this will turn out well since we’re both objective and not into drama. There’s a chance we could be friends afterward. Though, he seemed a bit taken aback by me earlier. I guess he’s never met a girl who's not romantic or sentimental."

"Our kind is becoming extinct."

You both shared a delightful laugh before Sohyun probed again.

“So what do you think of him? Do you think he’s cute?”

Cute? The word horrified you. What does "cute" even mean? My gosh, he was—

“Okay. He was okay.” you replied, an understatement of the century.

What do you even mean by "okay” ? You didn’t even know how to pretend that you weren’t affected by the man’s presence earlier! Your act was top-notch.

From the tips of his neatly gelled hair to his ridiculously handsome face, his tall and poised frame, the way he carried his simple white button-up long sleeve, black trousers, and Prada loafers, his deep, resonant voice, his piercing gaze, the way his hot canines would show when he smile, and the scent that lingered...

God, did you really need to keep going with those thoughts?

And It didn't help that whenever he looks at you, it felt like he was taking in every feature of your face. You wanted to feel self-conscious and blush fiercely, but thankfully, you weren't really the type to blush. Your earlier image of being a 'confident and detached woman' was almost fading... along with your other panties….

Wait, what!? NO! Y/n, you are an intelligent woman and don’t give in to physical urges that easily!

"You didn't find him attractive?"

Sohyun asked, sounding skeptical from the other end of the line. It seemed she didn’t believe your description of her twin brother, and she was right to doubt it because it wasn't entirely accurate.

"Of course I did,"

You confessed.

“Come on, do you think I'm blind? I maybe in serious need of prescription glasses, but I can still recognize genuine good looks.”

Your friend laughed.

"That's great!”

You briefly pulled the phone away from your ear, surprised by the tone of Sohyun's voice. Was this really your friend on the other line? It sounded like she wanted to play matchmaker, and you, of all people, for her brother? That seemed like a bad idea.

"So when's your next date?"

She asked as you pressed your phone back to your ear.

"Tomorrow. We’re just going to the park so we can talk better. Wednesday works for both of us since we’re free all day."

"Well, good luck to you both. I really hope everything ends well. I hope in the end, you both become wiser, happier, and better people. Because if either of you gets heartbroken, I’ll feel like it’s my fault."

You laughed.

"Come on! I volunteered for this situation. Plus, you know I’m not the type to get heartbroken. You even said I’ve perfected the art of moving on. And it’s not like I’m going to fall in love with your brother while doing this. He knows I’m just curious about it, so it’s not really dating—it’s more of a social experiment."

Your friend's response was a heavy sigh.

“I hope so."

Which made you a bit nervous.

"Anyway, what are your plans for the last week of the month?"

She changed the subject.

"We're planning to go to Jeju. Do you want to come?"

You frowned, wishing you could join them. You missed going to the beach, but it seemed like you wouldn’t be able to go until your semester break.

Day 02

“What's your favorite…” Sunghoon paused, rummaging through his mind for a word to complete the question, “…movie?”

You two were at a public park, just a short car ride from where you live. You both spent the past hour walking, sitting, snacking on random food, and asking each other questions. And honestly, it was boring him to death.

You wore a light blue short dress with white shoes, looking cute as ever. Sunghoon had been holding himself back from leaning closer to give you a kiss very oftenly. His hands were practically glued to his pockets, trying to resist the urge to reach out and feel the softness of your smooth skin.

Maybe he was getting bored because he had something else on his mind—something that wasn't exactly appropriate for a first date, especially not in a public place like ‘the park’.

Your lips puckered a bit as you thought, and—goddammit!—he was once again feeling that strong urge to taste them.

“Stop! Don’t answer that!” Sunghoon blurted out suddenly, startling you.

He sighed. “I’m going to die of boredom if we keep doing this like this.”

“Like this what?” you asked, a slight crease forming between your brows that he couldn’t help but find adorable. He wanted to smooth it out with his fingertip. Maybe in the days to come, he’d get the chance—and the right—to do just that.

“Like this…” He gestured between the two of you. “It’s boring. It feels like we’re filling out a slum book, only verbally.”

You watched him closely, listening intently.

“We need to do this… more naturally.”

You shrugged. “Well, you’re the expert here. Whatever you come up with, I’ll cooperate.”

Maybe we should just make out?

His inner voice teased. But of course, he didn’t act on it. He was a gentleman—at least, outwardly.

“Let’s go.” Sunghoon reached for your arm, guiding you toward his car. He drove the both of you for a few minutes to a nearby mall.

“We’re going shopping?” You looked slightly disappointed.

"No, we’re just gonna try something different," Sunghoon said.

Moments later, you both stood at the movie theater ticket counter, scanning the list of films. "Instead of just asking each other what our favorite movies are, I thought this would be more fun. We’ll watch as many movies as we can today, then discuss them over dinner. Sounds good?” he suggested.

There was a sparkle in your eyes as you smiled at him. “Doesn't exactly match the formula for a second date you mentioned in that magazine article I read.”

He grinned. “Well, that’s true. But let’s give it a shot. Who knows? It might actually be better.”

A slow smile crossed your face, making Sunghoon feel something fluttering once again.

"Consider yourself lucky you asked someone who loves watching movies.”

He laughed. “Sorry, this is pretty unplanned.”

“It’s fine. It’s more thrilling this way. Trust me, I know.” You flashed him another charming smile. “So, which one do we start with? I’ve seen that one,” you pointed to a poster, “but I wouldn’t mind watching it again. The lead actor’s pretty hot.”

Sunghoon chuckled, aside from other things, that’s the thing that he’s starting to like about you: your spontaneity. You both decided to buy tickets for the whole day—three movies, with only a few minutes in between each and all close by. You stocked up on snacks before heading to the first showing, ready for a full day at the movies.

—

"You could definitely work as a movie reviewer if you ever get tired of your job.” you commented that evening as the two of you sat down for dinner at a cozy Korean spot. You had spicy tteokbokki, while he opted for kimchi jjigae, and you shared a plate of Korean fried chicken on the side. You had just wrapped up discussing your thoughts on the films you watched, and though not every movie had been great, you couldn’t help but be impressed by his sharp insights.

"Oh, thank you,” Sunghoon replied, pausing to take another bite of his stew. "I just really like watching movies, so I guess that's why my reviews sound so... extensive." He even used air quotes on the word reviews.

You watched him, thinking. "You know, I’ve never had a date quite like this. Do you usually go all out like this with other people you’ve dated?”

You asked as he flashed you a smile that shows his beautiful canines. "Not really. Actually, this is the first time I’ve tried anything like this. Normally, it’s just one movie on a date, and never before the fifth date. I mean, bringing someone to a dark theater too soon could give them the wrong idea."

You couldn’t help but feel pleased. The man had been on his best behavior in the theater. There were a few moments when your hands brushed in the popcorn tub, and he’d flash you a little grin, like he’d won some small victory. But that was the extent of it.

"Oh, really?" You gave him a skeptical look, clearly showing you didn’t completely believe him.

He chuckled. "Come on, Y/n, give me a break. I’m not just sweet-talking you. Sohyun told you already… and you’ve read about it too. My 25-day dating theory has a strict plan. This was just a small exception."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, maybe I didn’t break any rules exactly. Let’s just say I loosened up a bit today."

"Is that so?" you said with a playful tone. "Guess I’m pretty lucky. I almost thought you’d planned all of this—to have us discuss movies so you could impress me with your reviewing skills." He laughed, eyes narrowing with amusement as his dimples deepened. He looked so handsome when he laughed that you found yourself torn—should you pinch his cheek or just kiss him?

"I swear, I didn't plan it," he said, still grinning. "So, I guess I managed to impress you?”

You smiled back genuinely. “Good enough."

He let out a soft chuckle, shorter than before, but still cute.

“But really, why are you doing this?” you asked as you turned serious.

"You mean the movie reviews?"

You shook your head. "No, I’m talking about your whole... cause. Being a serial dater. What’s the reason behind it?"

"You’re starting sound like a journalist with all these questions." A smile crept back onto his face.

You shrugged. "I’m just curious."

"You really love that word, don’t you?" he said with a smirk.

You shrugged again. "Don't bother keeping track of how many times I say it; you’ll lose count."

After a brief moment, Hoon focused on twirling his pasta around his fork before looking back at you. "I want to live a life free of heartache. If only everyone could be like me. That’s what I truly want."

"Well, I’ve managed to avoid heartache for years, Sunghoon, even before I learned about your method."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "Seriously? Are you saying you’ve never had a boyfriend? Because I’d genuinely think something’s off with every guy you’ve encountered."

You took a moment to process before laughing, finally understanding his point.

"You’re such a flirt; do you realize that?"

You noticed him trying to suppress a grin. "I’m serious." Your smile dimmed a bit.

His compliment flattered you, even if you recognized it as mere flattery. "I’ve had boyfriends before. Twice."

"And you’ve never been heartbroken?" He sounded astonished.

You shrugged with a touch of pride. "As your sister have said, I’m an expert at moving on."

"Is that for real? How do you manage that?"

"I just don’t care too much. I don’t give a lot of f*cks," you replied quickly. "I think that’s the real secret to relationships. Don’t assume, don’t expect too much, and just let things flow in the way that they should." Sunghoon laughed. "I think you’re just saying that to make me doubt my theory."

"I mean, it’s not a secret that I don’t really believe it, right? Let’s just say I’m conducting some research, which is why we’re spending time together. Something like that."

"You know what I think?" He set down his chicken and looked at you intently. "We’ll just go in circles for twenty-five days. I’ll do something to prove my theory, and you’ll do something to disprove it. That’s all. Nothing will come of it; we’ll just be wasting our time."

You adopted a serious tone. "What do you mean?"

Is he really going to wrap this up now? It’s just their first official date!

"I have a suggestion. Can we set aside our biases about how long this date will last? We both know it will end after twenty-five days, so why not enjoy ourselves?"

"If you don’t insist on your theory, I might not argue with you," you teased.

He smiled back. "I genuinely find you interesting, Y/n. I want to get to know the real you, not just this detached and defensive persona you show." Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Can we go on a date without any hidden motives in the back of our minds?"

You paused to consider. "So, like a genuine date, then?"

Sunghoon nodded. "You mentioned you're curious. Let’s make it real. No hidden agendas, just authentic companionship while we learn about each other. How does that sound?"

You felt a twinge of nervousness, but agreed nonetheless.

Day 05

“Whoa! Your family has a funeral home?"

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Sunghoon’s surprised expression when he picked you up from work.

This was your third date. Over the past few days, your schedule had been packed, and Sunghoon seemed busy with his projects too, so you had settled for chatting, texting, and calling. This was the first time you were going out again.

“Didn’t Daehi mention it to you?” you asked in return.

“We only went on one date; we didn’t get that far in our conversation that night. All I know is that he’s still a student and that his parents are businesspeople. The second date ended in disaster because I told him we should break up.” You shrugged as you settled into the passenger seat of his car. Daehi wasn’t too proud of the type of business you had, so he generally didn’t share much about it with acquaintances and friends.

She wasn’t used to people’s reactions when they found out about the family business. Usually, people were either frightened or overly intrigued, leading to too many questions.

Your sister has never set foot in the morgue because she was afraid. When you were in high school, your dad took you there to explain the embalming process. He believed it was important for the both of you to understand everything about the business since you would eventually inherit it. However, your sister got traumatized when the corpse's eyes suddenly opened while your dad was cutting into its neck. No scientific explanation from your dad could convince her to pursue Mortuary Science after that.

“So, where are we headed now?” you asked, changing the subject. Sunghoon hadn’t said anything when he called you last night, just that you should dress casually and avoid skirts or white clothing if possible.

He smiled playfully while keeping his eyes on the road. “Do you like drive-in movie theaters?”

Your eyes widened as you realized what he meant. “OMG, don’t tell me?”

He was referring to the popular drive-in movie spot near your town.

Sunghoon laughed, probably because of the excitement in your expression. “Yep. Unfortunately, the VIP tickets that include a free dinner are all sold out. We’ll just have cheeseburgers, fries, and popcorn.”

You felt like jumping for joy. “Oh, that’s totally fine! I’ve been wanting to go there for so long, but I could never find someone interested.” You smiled at him. “Thank you, Sunghoon.”

He briefly glanced at you and returned your smile, making your heart race again. “You’re welcome, Y/n.”

You fell silent for a moment during the drive, but soon, your curious companion asked again, "So... are you involved in your family’s business?"

You nodded. "Uh-huh. I often help out when we’re understaffed," you replied without elaborating.

"Meaning, you also do embalming?"

You burst out laughing at Sunghoon’s expression. "Of course! You’re talking to a licensed embalmer here."

"Really?" He still seemed in disbelief.

"You have a problem with that?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "Aren't you a bit too pretty to be an embalmer?"

You were grateful that you didn’t blush easily. If you did, you would be bright red from the handsome compliment. "You're exaggerating. So, you think only unattractive people should be embalmers?" you said with mock horror.

He shook his head. "You know that's not what I mean. I just think you’d be better suited to be a model or an actress."

You paused for a moment before breaking into a wide smile. "Seriously? Is that how you talk to all the girls you date? Did that work for them?"

"Seriously," he replied, pretending to frown at you. "Anyway, I'm still curious. Do you like your job? Aren't you uncomfortable working with dead bodies?"

You examined Sunghoon’s arms for goosebumps, but there were none. You explained, "I have no choice but to like it. Come on, it has been my family's cause of living. My parents built it from the ground up long before I was born. All these years, those bead bodies have been what supported our family." You paused for a moment. "Wait, that sounds wrong. Did I just say that dead bodies support our family?" You both laughed. If taken literally, it sounded like they were zombies—brought back to life by the dead.

"Sorry if my reaction offended you," Sunghoon said after your laughter faded.

You waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, it’s nothing! I’m used to that. Your reaction is totally normal, I tell you. It is pretty morbid, though." You decided to change the subject. "So, do you enjoy being a freelance digital artist?"

"Yes." He answered simply.

“Is that it?" you probed, wanting to hear more of his thoughts.

Sunghoon chuckled, a glint of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes. "Well, it's challenging. I see every project as a challenge, and I rarely get bored.”

"Sohyun told me you also design book covers. Do you get to read all the books you work on?" As a bookworm yourself, that thought thrilled you.

"Sometimes," he said with a shrug. "More often than not, clients provide just a synopsis. If they want a mysterious vibe, they’ll only mention the themes. Some clients have a specific idea of what they want for the cover, which simplifies things. But I really enjoy having more control over the whole process; it adds a certain thrill."

"I assume you take your own photos?"

"Sometimes. But that usually raises the cost. Most of the time, I either purchase stock photos or draw them myself."

You took a moment to reflect, appreciating how the conversation flowed since it felt comfortable and engaging. "But what if the cover doesn't match the book? Like, if the cover looks flawless but the content is awful? Does that bother you?"

He shook his head, concentrating on steering the car as he made a right turn.

"But isn’t that misleading? Doesn’t it seem like false advertising?"

"Not my concern," he said casually. "My job is to design a cover that boosts sales. That’s it. It doesn’t matter if the book is bad; the cover just needs to look appealing enough to attract buyers."

"Oh no, I don’t agree with that," you replied after a pause.

"What don’t you agree with?" Sunghoon asked, genuinely intrigued.

"The false advertising part. I’ll always choose honesty, even if it’s brutally honest, over any kind of deception."

“Ouch!” Sunghoon clutched his chest as if he were in pain. “That hurts! Did you just call me a liar?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his exaggerated reaction. “Come on, I didn’t say you specifically. And don’t take it personally; I can be a bit opinionated sometimes. That’s just my perspective; it doesn’t mean I’m right. I know that sometimes we can’t avoid lying to others. The truth can hurt, and if we want to spare someone’s feelings, we have no choice but to hide certain truths.” You took a deep breath, feeling slightly drained from the amount you just expressed. “Anyway, what movie are we going to watch now?”

Sunghoon's expression brightened as he began to explain where you would be headed next.

—

“Well, isn’t this such a romantic scene,” you teased, laughing lightly.

You had just wrapped up the first movie of the double feature, and now it was intermission before the next one. A local band was serenading the audience with a popular love song while you both lay on a plush mattress in the back of his F150, gazing up at the stars. Hoon turned his head to catch a glimpse of you, who was lost in the beauty of the night sky, filled with twinkling stars. A playful grin crept onto his face as an idea struck him.

“It’d be more romantic if you scooted a little closer and rested your arm on mine,” he suggested. “Then I could lean in toward you—”

You burst into laughter. “In your dreams, Park.”

His smile grew wider at your reaction. Hearing you laugh filled his heart with warmth, and he silently vowed to always give you reasons to smile. “You really come off as someone who’s anti romantic when you laugh like that at those certain things, you know?” he teased, inching closer until your shoulders brushed against each other, savoring the sweet scent of your hair.

“Daehi also told me that I don’t have a romantic bone in my body. What does that even mean?”

"Aww. Your suitors must have it tough since you’re not easily swayed by romantic gestures."

You shrugged. "I don't know why either."

"So, you're probably not sentimental either?" he asked, curious.

"Well, I get sentimental about family, movies, things like that—those kinds of stories make me tear up."

"Really?" Sunghoon propped his elbow on the grass, resting his head on his palm so he could look at you instead of the sky. Somehow, the star beside him seemed to shine brighter than the ones above. "No wonder you didn’t cry during Eye for an Eye,” he pointed out, referring to a movie you’d watched on your second date.

You shifted to mimic his position, a sparkle of amusement in your eyes. "You were the one who cried!" you teased. "Did you think I didn’t notice you sniffing?"

That made Sunghoon smile in embarrassment, and he couldn’t resist playfully pinching your cheek. You swatted his hand, but he simply held it gently and planted a quick kiss on the back of it. You seemed a bit too stunned to react, and his smile faded for a moment.

"I don't remember enjoying conversations this much with any of my ex-dates. They were never this fun or this easy to talk to," he admitted seriously.

You felt a little flustered and looked away, but managed to crack joke, "Oh, so you're using seduction as a technique now, huh?"

Sunghoon reached out and gently held your chin, bringing your gaze back to meet his. "It’s called honesty, Y/n. You said you appreciate honesty, that’s why I’m telling you.”

Your mouth opened as you thought of something to say, but before you could respond, the host's voice came through the speakers, announcing that the next movie was about to start.

"Come on, let’s get up," you said.

"Wait a sec," Sunghoon replied, pulling out his phone and holding it up above you. "Let's take a pic first."

You pretended to strangle him for the photo.

—

You couldn’t quite explain the feeling as you lay in bed that night. A smile lingered on your lips, and there was a lightness in your chest that wouldn’t fade.

You closed your eyes, trying to drift off, but then Sunghoon’s face would pop back into your mind from when you both had been together earlier.

Out of everyone you’d dated, he was easily the most handsome; no question about it. But you weren’t the type to fall for just a pretty face. Sure, Sunghoon was easy on the eyes, his whole presence was. But that wasn’t the only reason you felt drawn to him. You both shared a laid-back approach to life and relationships—no unnecessary drama, no over-the-top seriousness.

You liked his voice—deep and soothing to the ears. If you weren’t mistaken, “mellifluous” was the right word for it. You had a feeling it’d sound amazing if he ever decided to sing. You also liked how he spoke his mind, how his eyes always glinted playfully, and how his mouth would curve into a restrained smile. It just made it harder to breathe whenever he did both while looking at you with those beautiful eyes.

A soft giggle escaped you as you recalled how it felt like fireworks had gone off inside you when Sunghoon kissed the back of your hand and told you he enjoyed your conversation.

You shook your head. No, you were just amused—not smitten. Who were you kidding? You knew this wasn’t anything long-term—scratch that, association was probably the better term. So why let yourself get swept away?

Your train of thought was interrupted when your phone chimed, signaling a text. You picked it up and couldn’t help but smile when you saw Sunghoon’s name.

Park Sunghoon: Just got home. Quick drive, no traffic.

Park Sunghoon: You asleep?

You briefly debated ignoring it and pretending to be asleep, but your fingers had already started typing.

You: 😴

He replied instantly.

Park Sunghoon: Oh, you look pretty when you’re asleep, Y/n.

You were about to respond with Only when I’m asleep? when your phone rang, startling you so much you almost threw it. The ringing wouldn’t stop, though, so you answered it.

“Hi, gorgeous."

A pandemonium erupted in your chest.

Just like the first time you’d heard Hoon’s voice over the phone, you thought he’d have made a great telephone operator… or maybe an audiobook narrator… or someone you’d call when you wanted a little phone fun.

Huh?

“Y/n?”

He called out again, snapping you back to reality.

“I told you I was asleep, didn’t I? So why’d you call?”

You asked, pretending to be annoyed. He only laughed in response. And oh, that laugh—so rich, so masculine, and so dangerously seductive.

You bit your bottom lip to hold back a giggle.

“Are you free tomorrow? It’s the last day of the Hot Air Balloon Fest, and I was hoping to take you,”

He said out of nowhere, making your heart pound.

Seriously, no segue? Did he have no mercy on your poor heart?

You were about to say yes when you remembered the date.

“Oh, sorry. Midterms are on Monday. I need to review tomorrow.”

“How about we go in the morning so you can study in the evening?”

You sighed.

“I wish I could say I’d be able to study three subjects with just a few hours.”

“Is that so?”

You could sense the disappointment in Sunghoon’s voice, and you felt like kicking yourself. Why hadn’t you reviewed yesterday or earlier today to lighten your load for tomorrow? Honestly, why did you sign up for a new course when you already had a degree in Business Management and an embalming license? Why did you fill up your calendar so much that it made it hard for Sunghoon to take you out on a proper date?

“You’re way too busy, a student and an embalmer, huh?”

He laughed, which made you smile.

“Yeah, I’m also a patisserie chef, a licensed aromatherapist, an ex-surfer, a former high school teacher, a photographer, an average mountaineer, and a sculptor—”

“Whoa!”

Sunghoon exclaimed.

“You’ve studied all of that?”

“Yeah.”

“But why? I mean, aside from just being interested.”

He asked, clearly curious.

"That's just how I am. I enjoy learning new things, visiting new places, and experiencing different things,"

You explained, chuckling at his response.

“Do you like to travel as well?"

"Uh-huh. If I didn’t have to help out at the funeral home, I would’ve traveled more and tried out different things."

"With all the things you want to do, I guess starting a family isn’t in your plans yet?"

"I'm only twenty-five, come on."

"But what I mean is, is it part of your plan? Or are you also like Sohyun? Just trying you ignoring that aspect of life?”

"Well, finding the right person is tough. You can't really plan on falling in love with someone and wanting to marry them. Love doesn’t come with a timetable,"

You said with a laugh.

“That was cheesy, I’m sorry.”

He chuckled softly.

“But it’s true.”

You shrugged even though he couldn't see you.

"And besides, we're dating, right? Who knows, maybe I'll end up liking this 25-day dating method of yours and follow your lead. At least it doesn’t come with too much commitment."

There was a moment of silence on his end.

Then he shifted the conversation.

"Anyway, do you want me to help you review?"

Uhm, hello? And how are you supposed to study when there's a tempting distraction right in front of you?

You let out a soft laugh.

"Thanks, but how about we just go out on Monday night instead?"

"But there won't be a Hot Air Balloon Fest then; tomorrow is the last day."

You felt a pang of disappointment—not just because you also wanted to experience the hot air balloon ride, but because Sunghoon seemed genuinely sad about your refusal.

"I'm sure there are plenty of other places we can check out."

Sunghoon exhaled thoughtfully for a moment before laughing.

“Oh, I had just the perfect idea. Alright, I’ll see you on Monday."

"Okay,"

You responded, trying to sound shy. But goodness! Why were you getting excited already? You had just parted ways!

“It’s a date.”

You hummed and nodded in agreement.

“So, Y/n,”

Sunghoon’s voice lowered an octave, sending a thrill through you.

“What are you wearing?”

You felt your cheeks flush. Oh god, his incredibly sexy voice sent shivers down your spine, leaving you breathless. Your face felt warm all over.

“Park Sunghoon!”

You scolded, realizing what he was doing. He laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the tease.

Day 07

"You look happy. I’m guessing you’re going on a date again, right?" your classmate Yunjin nudged you, clearly teasing.

As you all headed out of the college building, carrying your bags after finishing three tough exams, you smiled at her. Since you were pursuing a second degree, she was younger than you, which reminded you of Daehi.

“I’m just glad the exams are finally over. Now I only have my thesis and finals left to tackle.”

“Already? You’re such a downer. Why don’t you come with me and Kaz to karaoke tonight,” she suggested.

You remembered your conversation with Sunghoon on Saturday night before you fell asleep. He had mentioned he had a surprise for you later.

"Ah, I have a prior commitment, sorry."

Yunjin clicked her tongue, though she was smiling. "I knew it, you have a date with Dracula's son."

Something inside you reacted to what you heard. That’s what your friend calls Sunghoon—like a vampire. Because of how the guy looks (in a good and hot way), and you couldn't disagree more with that.

Since early Sunday morning, he had checked up on you a few times and checked how your review was going. You only responded to him twice to avoid showing how much you missed him more than you should have.

You shrugged while concentrating on the path to the train station. “Just a pretend date. You know I'm just trying it out. And he wants to convince me to do the same 25-day thing he’s doing."

"Well, for someone who's pretending to date, you two are pretty convincing. It doesn’t seem like it’s just pretend, with the sparkle in your eyes when you mention him. It looks like you're genuinely attracted to him. And who could blame you, right?" She teased. "Oh my God, just his eyebrows alone make me swoon." Your friend was practically gushing.

You laughed. "Really? His eyebrows?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying! His eyebrows alone are enough to make anyone swoon. Just imagine if we talk about his eyes, his nose, his lips, his jawline... Oh my gosh! And his body!" She practically squealed again.

You smacked your friend lightly. "Hey, stop that! You look like you're having a seizure.”

She paused and you saw her gaze fixated on something in the distance, a wide smile spreading across her face. You followed her line of sight, and there he was. Butterflies and worms were stirring in your stomach. Oh wow, Park Sunghoon really does look like a walking wet dream.

He was standing by his car, wearing a simple blue-and-white striped button-up, beige trousers, and his favorite loafers, looking like he had just gotten a fresh haircut. But what truly made him look even better was that broad smile and bright expression when he saw you.

You both had planned to meet for dinner later.What was he doing here on campus?

"My God, Y/n, if you won’t take him for real, I swear I’m going to steal that panty-cream of yours and keep him for myself,” you heard Yunjin say with a mock squeal, giving you a playful shove.

"Get over there before someone else beats you to it! I’m leaving so you two can have some privacy and so I won’t be tempted to kiss someone else's date. Bye!"

You shook your head and laughed at your friend, who had stayed back in her spot, just watching you and Sunghoon.

Your heart raced as he walked towards you. "How did your exams go?" he greeted, his sweet smile still on his lips.

You shrugged. "It was okay, though I almost bled out from the level difficulty," you joked. "Why are you here so early? Don’t you have work today?"

He raised a hand and brushed away some stray strands of hair from your forehead and temple. "I finished everything last night so I could see you earlier. I missed you."

You pretended to roll your eyes, but a wide smile broke through. The jerk was flirting with you again, and you let him don it anyway.

"You don’t have any classes, right? Do you have somewhere else to go?" Sunghoon asked, sizing you up.

You shook your head. You were just planning to have a beauty rest at home while waiting for your dinner date. But now that the object of your beautification was right in front of you…

"Then, let’s go!" Sunghoon took your hand and pulled you toward his car.

"Where are we going? It’s still too early for dinner."

It wasn’t even two in the afternoon yet.

"It’s a surprise," he said with a grin as he opened the door for you. For a brief moment, you felt the urge to kiss his lips just to see if that smile was as sweet as it looked.

—

He had been restraining himself, curious about whether your sweet smile really tasted as delightful as it appeared. Although you were dating, it didn’t feel entirely like one, leaving him uncertain about whether he had the right to kiss you whenever he wanted. In the back of Sunghoon’s mind was the reason you were together at that moment: your insatiable curiosity.

Regardless, he was enjoying your company.

He watched you as you soared through the air, gripping tightly while paragliding with the guide. Your gaze was fixed on the scenery, especially the setting sun illuminating one side of the mountains.

It would have been more enjoyable and more romantic for him if he were the one gliding with you, but he wasn’t an expert at it yet, so it wasn’t possible. Nevertheless, he enjoyed himself even while gliding separately. The sound of your laughter and squeals filled the air, bringing a light and sweet emotion to his heart.

He saw you ran over to him as soon as you got out of the harness and greeted him with a tight hug. "That was so much fun! The sunset is beautiful. Thank you, Sunghoon." He returned the hug and lifted you slightly off the ground, making you squeal in surprise.

All traces of regret over not gliding together earlier faded away. He set you down and stepped back a little to see your face. Sweat glistened on your skin, but you looked radiant with beauty and youth.

He couldn’t hold back any longer and leaned down to give you a quick yet firm kiss on the lips.

“We’ll do it again, I promise. Next time, I’ll make sure I’m good at this so I can glide with you,” Sunghoon said directly, trying to mask the impact that kiss had on him. God, his knees felt weak, and it had nothing to do with the activity they just did.

He gently caressed your cheek. "Come on, it’s getting dark."

That was when you seemed to snap back to reality, pulling away from him in surprise. He felt a rush of happiness knowing he wasn’t the only one affected by that innocent kiss. He took your hand, squeezing it gently, and pulled you closer to your group.

A few hours later, feeling satisfied with what you both had eaten, you were on your way home, chatting cheerfully about various topics.

"Do you have class tomorrow?" Sunghoon suddenly asked as he noticed that you both were getting close to your house. He wanted to gaze at you, but that wasn’t safe since he was driving.

"No, but I have work," you replied, referring to the funeral home. "Why, are we going on another date?"

"Just a dinner, maybe. Is that okay?" He shot you a cute look, trying to deceive you into agreeing with him. What annoyed him was that you didn’t know how to blush; he couldn’t tell if his moves were working on you.

You gave him a playful glare. "Is this how you are with your past dates? Do you really go out every night? That must cost a lot."

No was the right answer to your question. Sunghoon only took his dates out once a week because they both had jobs. But he wasn’t ready to admit that this was different from his past dates. He even recalled how you laughed when he told you that you were the most enjoyable person to talk to among all his dates. He shrugged and feigned confidence, saying, "You know that I could easily get a sugar mommy, right?”

"Oh my god!" You playfully hit his shoulder while laughing. "If we go out every week, I might get tired of seeing your face, Park."

He pretended to wince, “Ouch?”

You laughed even louder. "I’m just kidding!”

You pinched his cheek. "Stop acting cute. Alright, come over to my place so we can save some money. I can teach you how to embalm."

The young man smiled. You were wrong when you thought that the he would refuse your offer. He was already starting to come up with a strategy; he would keep his focus on you the entire time you were at the morgue. That way, if anyone else was there or if the corpse did something unexpected, he wouldn’t notice.

“You can also join us for dinner.” you added. "I’ll cook you some japchae, kimchi fried rice, and kimbap."

He couldn’t help but grimace, but that quickly faded into laughter, making his reaction even more apparent. A warm feeling spread through his chest as he listened to your voice and observed your expression.

To Sunghoon’s dismay, you both had already reached your house, and it was time to say goodbye.

"But you really should get home before eight tomorrow because I have another exam the day after," you reminded him.

He quickly brainstormed. "I could help you study for that."

"Yeah, but you might end up distracting me from my review even more."

He shrugged. "Alright, I promise I won't smile or smolder too much so you can focus."

You laughed at what he said. "That's not what I meant, Park.”

"I'll behave, I swear. Come on."

You looked at him, weighing your options. You weren't sure what other reasons you could use to discourage him. Sunghoon raised a hand and tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. "If you haven't noticed, I’m going to spell it out for you: I'm just making up reasons to spend more time with you, Y/n. I just want to be with you more, so please don’t make it hard for me."

You froze, your eyes wide as you focused on him. After a moment, you playfully punched him on the shoulder.

"Such a flirt," you chuckled.

He secretly frowned. This seemed to be the issue with your situation; you took everything he did as a joke or just an act. "Well, you said you appreciate honesty," he shrugged.

You observed him for a few moments, trying to gauge on whether he were serious. Then, you flashed a sweet smile. "I think it's time for you to meet my parents. Come on in."

He was surprised as he watched you step out of the car and walk in front of his window, knocking on it.

"You coming or not?" you asked when he finally opened his door.

“Coming!” he shortly replied, quickly hurrying to follow you into the house. All the while, it felt like there was a hyper drummer keeping time in his heart.

Day 11

Sunghoon found himself distracted as he worked on designing a website for a Christian foundation. His gaze kept shifting to his phone, waiting for a reply from you. He missed you, and if he could, he’d fast-forward through the days just to see you again.

His mind wandered back to the day after your paragliding adventure…

—

A big smile had spread across Sunghoon’s face the moment he woke up that morning. He’d started his work early to get as much done as possible before heading to your place later.

He enjoyed spending time with your parents. And, without sounding too confident, he could tell they liked him as well. Meanwhile, it seemed that Daehi had already moved on from him. She spent a bit of time chatting with the rest before she headed upstairs, saying she was expecting a call on her cellphone—most likely from her suitor, who, judging by her smile, she liked too.

Anyway, he had a great time with Yoon’s. Your parents were hardworking, down-to-earth, and wise in conversation. They took pride in their work, honoring the departed with respect and dignity. They didn’t let him leave right away, so it was around ten when he finally said goodbye. Later, lying in bed, you exchanged a few more chat messages before officially calling it a night.

By the next morning, all he could think about was none other than Y/n, Y/n, Y/n. He was eager to see you again, but work got in the way. By eight in the morning, he couldn't take it any longer and finally gave in to the urge to call you.

The call connected after two rings. "Hi! Good morning!" he greeted brightly. But what answered was a sniffle. "Sunghoon..."

Concern quickly filled him. "Are you crying? What happened? Is something wrong?"

"M-my grandmother... She p-passed away," you stammered before breaking into sobs. Between shaky breaths, you explained that your father’s mother had been found unresponsive at her home in the province. She was eighty-four, had been a widow for a long time, and lived with the family of one of her children.

"I'm sorry, but we won’t be able to meet later. We’re packing right now since we’re flying out to Busan this afternoon. Dad’s assistant will handle things at the funeral home while we’re gone."

Sunghoon felt a wave of disappointment but kept it hidden. “I could drive you and your family to the airport."

"No need. We don’t want to trouble you. We’ll just take an Uber." You sniffled again. "She was so full of life when she celebrated her birthday in October."

Sunghoon sighed. "Y/n..." He wished he could be right there beside you, to hold you and offer comfort.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I need to finish packing quickly. I’ll call you later, okay?”

"Alright," he replied quietly. "Take care on your trip."

"I'll see you in ten days, Hoon. Bye."

"I miss you already," he murmured, but you weren’t able to catch that.

—

Now, four days later, Sunghoon was feeling lost and out of sorts. Their nightly calls were the only thing keeping him sane. His distracted gaze left his phone when he heard a door opening. A moment later, the door cracked open, and his twin sister's face appeared.

"Hey! How's my devilishly charming brother?" Sohyun greeted him with a quick kiss on the cheek. "How's Y/n? I heard her grandmother passed away."

He explained the situation to her.

"So, she won’t be back until next week?" she asked, surprised. "She’ll have a lot of classwork to catch up on."

"Yeah, I know…” he replied, not paying much attention to his sister.

Sohyun gave him a knowing look, but he didn’t notice, his eyes still glued to his phone.

“That explains why you look like that. You miss her already,” she teased.

He turned to her, frowning, and swallowed before answering, “Just a little.”

Sohyun laughed loudly, wrapping an arm around his head and patting his hair. “Aw, my poor brother.”

Annoyed, he pulled away.

“You guys are talking on the phone, right?” she pressed on.

“Of course. Whenever she doesn’t have visitors to entertain and when she has signal connection.” He hadn’t meant to sound bitter, but it slipped out, and Sohyun hugged him again.

“Have you met up with Jake and the others recently?”

He was confused by her question. Since when did his sister take an interest in his friends? “About three weeks ago, why?”

She shrugged. “I just think you should go out with them sometimes. Might keep you from being too… heartbroken—I mean, bored.”

He scowled at his sister, "Cut it out. I'm not in love with her."

She just laughed at his obvious lie and gave his shoulder a pat. He thought he might’ve heard her murmur, "So defensive."

Before he could reply, she added, "Mom and Dad were asking about you, by the way. That’s why I came by. You can meet up with Jake and the others tomorrow instead. Come with me to see them—they’ve been missing us. Shut down your computer, and let’s go visit them together so we can both get the ‘when are you getting married’ talk.”

Sunghoon agreed, feeling that he missed their parents too, along with the great food and warm, cheerful atmosphere at home.

"Please tell me you've found her, son."

They had just finished lunch together—a rare occasion now that both him and his sister had moved out. They really cherished these moments, and their mom had even prepared a special meal, complete with dessert. Now, he and his father were on the porch, enjoying coffee where it was shaded and cool even in the midday heat. Sunghoon watched his father thoughtfully. To him, his dad had always embodied gentle strength, integrity, and inner peace. He admired him deeply for his loyalty to family, especially to his mom. Sunghoon aspired to be like him, but it was one thing to say it and another to live it.

Just finding a woman he could love for life was already proving difficult.

He smiled at his father. "Almost there, Dad.”

His father’s eyes sparkled with warmth. "That's good to hear. It’s better than your usual answer of ‘not yet.’ That’s progress." He gave him a meaningful look. "Have you met someone?"

Sunghoon hesitated, considering whether to mention you. Yes, you were different from anyone else he’d dated, but he didn’t want to raise his dad’s hopes—or his own. It still felt like you both were just testing the waters.

It wasn’t serious at all. It felt more like a casual friendship between him and you, an agreement to meet and get to know each other over twenty-five days. That was all there was to it. It was unrealistic to expect anything more.

Besides, he wasn’t really in love with you. He liked you, cared about you, and enjoyed spending time together. He felt attracted to you; he lusted after you. That was it.

He shrugged. "Same old same, Dad. Just casual dates."

His father patted him on the shoulder. "You said it’s getting closer. That’s good enough for me. Just make sure to introduce her to us, okay?" Sunghoon nodded. "Your mom and I are getting older, and I really want to have a grandchild while I can still carry and chase one around."

The younger man took a sip of coffee from his mug. "You still have Sohyun, Dad."

"It seems more likely to happen if it’s you I’m counting out on."

Sunghoon just smiled. He wondered if his sibling was also like him when it comes to this love thing, pretending to be indifferent but secretly searching for the kind of love their parents had found.

—

"I think Y/n would really like parasailing. We could go to the nearest beach here. She has a lot of lessons to make up for due to her absences. Can I have the contact number?"

They were able to meet up that evening after he returned from his parents' house. Sunghoon glanced up at Jake from his phone, waiting as he took his time dictating the numbers. He noticed his friends staring at him with amused expressions.

He furrowed his brow at them. “The fuck is wrong with you guys?" he asked.

Jay grinned. "You."

Sunghoon’s frown deepened. "Huh?"

"Bro, we're hitting our favorite bar to catch up, talk, and have some drinks," Jay explained. "And if you used to look at these outings as opportunities to find your next date, now all you seem to talk about is 'Y/n this, Y/n that.' Damn, are you in love or something?" He laughed as if to annoy him.

And it indeed annoyed him.

"Did I say something wrong?" Sunghoon’s voice raised slightly.

They had been friends since college and were known as those typical playboys who would change their girlfriends faster then they would change clothes. Now, they were all married, leaving him as the only single one. They knew each other's quirks, but sometimes, small misunderstandings would crop up, especially when they shot him those odd looks.

"Relax, Hoon." Heeseung said. "We’re just a bit thrown off by you, but you’re good. Go on and tell us more about this Y/n and how she brought some color to your otherwise dull and meaningless life." He added a dramatic hand gesture, as if performing a piece of poetry, and that made the guys laugh at their youngest.

Sunghoon scowled. “I’m not in love with her, okay? What’s wrong with you guys?"

"Bro, trust me. You sounded like you were just minutes away from marrying her earlier," Jay interjected. "It’s like you’re just like us now. Everything you used to fight for, you’ve completely forgotten."

He paused, his beer halfway to his lips. "What do you mean?"

"Hoon, to us, you’re the definition of a carefree and independent guy. You’re just chill with your career, love life, and family—enjoying everything without any pressure. You don’t commit to anyone, so you’ve been heartache-free all this time, right? You even take pride in your serial dating. You don’t need a girl, and you’re not shedding any tears over them. You’re single, and you love it. You were the man, Hoon—at least, you used to be," Heeseung explained. "But now, look at you—constantly talking about your Y/n. You seem really attached to her, and you sound like a completely different person. It’s like you’re in love."

He paused for a moment, trying to regain his composure. "You’re just imagining things, Hyung."

His friend shook his head. "There’s nothing wrong with being in love, though. We’re happy for you, of course. We’re just a little surprised."

He forced a smile. "Fuck off. I’m not in love." But even to his own ears, he sounded pathetic, which made him feel uneasy.

Day 18

"Well somebody’s got a different glow today," Daehi commented, watching you in the mirror of the room you were using at your grandmother’s house. It was the same room you used to stay in eight years ago, before you moved to Seoul for college.

You smiled at her. "Liar. Look at how huge my eyebags are."

Daehi moved to stand beside you at the vanity mirror, staring at both of your reflections. "Your eyes are sparkling, I swear. It's like you’re excited to go home or something." She grinned mischievously. "Maybe someone’s waiting for you at the airport? Someone you’ve missed a lot?" She even pinched your side, making you playfully frown at her.

"Look who’s talking—you’re the one with a new guy," you teased, hinting at her frequent phone calls lately. "What’s his name again?"

"Yuno," she said, steering the conversation back to you. "And how are things with Hoon? Should I start addressing him as my ‘brother-in-law’ now?" she asked with a grin.

You shrugged nonchalantly, even though just hearing his name made your heart race. Ten days of only seeing him through your phone made you miss him even more. You couldn’t wait to see, smell, and hold him again.

You sighed. "Same as always."

"Liar," your sister scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Come on, Ican see that sparkle in your eyes. Stop denying it."

You took a deep breath. "Daehi, what we’re doing is just a kind of experiment, not an actual relationship. It’s for research. He just wants to prove he’s right, which is probably why he’s being a little flirty. And I can’t let myself fall for someone who I know won’t reciprocate my feelings. That would be like walking straight into heartbreak. And I’m not stupid.

Your sister's face wrinkled in thought. "Can’t? Sis, I don’t think anyone can decide not to fall in love. It just happens. Sometimes you realize it, but more often, it sneaks up on you… especially when you're busy denying it and convincing yourself it’s all just an experiment."

Her words made you uneasy, but you quickly thought of a comeback. "Oh, really? Since when did you become a love expert? Whose post did you steal that from? Send me the link; I’ll study it."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. You act like I do nothing but scroll online all day." A smirk spread on her face, hinting she was joking. "And for your information, it wasn’t a post. It was a tweet from my favorite writer."

“Yeah, sure.” You both laughed together.

After a moment, you glanced at your wristwatch. "What time are we leaving? The check-in line might be long."

"We're about to leave. We're just waiting for Jiwon. He was the one who wants to tag along, yet he’s taking his sweet time as if no one is waiting," Daehi complained. "So full of himself, too. It’s annoying that he’s on our flight."

You chuckled; Jiwon lived just across the street and had been trying to win you over since high school. Now, he was a lawyer based in Seoul.

“Just let it go. His flirting is harmless, so…” You shrugged.

“But when you and Sunghoon break up next week, don’t you dare give that arrogant guy a chance, okay? He’s gross,” Daehi replied, making a face.

You stopped short, only registering the first part of her statement. Oh, right, today marks Day 18 of your “relationship” with Sunghoon.

Seven days left before you part ways...

A heavy feeling settled in your chest.

—

"It's fine for us to just take a taxi, Jiwon," your father said to the playful puppy accompanying you toward the arrival area.

"No, I won't allow that. I'm sorry, Mr. Yoon. We have a car that can fit all of us and our luggage. Why would you want to commute? It's safer to know who will be driving you, right?"

You couldn't help but jump in. "We have someone picking us up, Won. Sorry." You turned to your parents while tucking your phone into your pocket, where you'd been speaking with your ride. "Sunghoon is waiting for us."

"Oh, good," your mother replied.

Your father beamed widely, and Daehi even clapped. It seemed like they all preferred Sunghoon over the lawyer.

As you stepped outside, an SUV pulled up right on cue. Sunghoon got out and greeted you with a broad smile.

"Welcome back," he said, moving to lift one of the suitcases into the car. You couldn’t take your eyes off him; you really missed him. You were snapped back to reality when he approached you and, as usual, brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. "Ready to go?" he asked softly.

Only then did you realize that all your things were already loaded into the SUV, and your family was seated inside. You glanced back at Jiwon, who stood behind you with a frown.

"We'll head out first. Bye!" You climbed into the passenger seat next to Sunghoon.

As soon as you closed the door, your companions started chiming in, all complaining about the lawyer.

Luke couldn’t help but smile. "You guys really don’t like him, huh?"

They all chimed in with their complaints again.

The guy laughed outright. "He seemed fine when he introduced to me earlier." You were taken aback by that. Had the two guys already met while you were zoning out? Was he meaning to say that you stood there like a fool for a good few minutes?

"Well, maybe he was intimidated by you," your dad joked.

“Other than being a neighbor, what else is your connection to him, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sunghoon asked.

“He’s Y/n’s suitor since high school, and he’s still trying to win her over, even after getting rejected for at least ten times now.”

“Daehi,” you interjected, hoping to prevent any further comments.

“Don’t worry, Sunghoon doesn’t seem like the jealous type at all,” your mischievous little sister teased, laughing.

Your parents chuckled. You glanced at the guy mentioned; he just smiled, seemingly unfazed.

“How was Busan, by the way?” you heard him ask your family in the car.

“It was okay. Many people came to visit and mourned for Mama; it’s clear she was loved by many,” your mom replied. She wasn’t teary-eyed anymore when talking about the elder, unlike during their early days in the province.

“My condolences. I wanted to fly to Busan, but—”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary, Sunghoon. We know you care; you’ve called us several times and even sent flowers, and that’s enough. You don’t need to travel all the way here. It would just be too much of a hassle for you,” your dad said with a smile.

“Anyway, who’s up for some Korean barbecue and bibimbap?” Your mom and sister both raised their hands. You joined in. “Well, it looks like the majority wins, Hoon. I hope that works for you?”

“Sounds great,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the road.

Soon enough, the others in the back began chatting among themselves. Sunghoon turned to you and flashed a smile. “Hi,” he said it cutely, almost in a whisper so that only you could hear.”

“Hello,” you answered.

“How was Busan? Is it the breeze there that made you look even more stunning?”

You grinned at him. “You’re still as flirty as ever,” you whispered back to keep it between the two of you. “Busan was alright. How about you? How have you been?”

“I’m alright. It’s not like i almost died from how much I’ve missed you.”

"Good thing you managed to hold back your laughter, or else your family might have wondered about how loud you were. You discreetly pinched his arm.

"You’re so infuriating," you whispered.

"I missed you,” he replied, earning a sweet smile from you.

—

Sunghoon looked at you while drying the dish you just rinsed. "Are you tired?"

He smiled, and despite your initial hesitation, you found yourself replying, "You've asked that question seven thousand three hundred seventy-eight times. No, Hoon. I’m not tired," you laughed.

He playfully pinched your nose. "I'm just concerned since you just came back from a trip."

"Maybe I'm suffering from jet lag? Is that it?” you replied sarcastically while handing him the last plate.

He laughed, and the sound resonated with you. "How would I know? Maybe the time zone in Busan is different now," he quipped.

You watched as he finished drying the plate. "You might be the one who's tired. You drove, helped with the groceries, chopped ingredients while Mom and I were cooking, and now you're helping me wash the dishes."

They had snacked at a restaurant before stopping by the grocery store to pick up dinner items while still in his company.

After he finished, he looked at you with a serious expression on his handsome face.

“I’m just trying to find a reason to be close to you. I missed you, you know that already.” The excitement hit you unexpectedly, and even though you recognized how cheesy it sounded, you couldn’t help but grin. “You really have a way with those lines, don’t you?”

He made a pout. “Come on, Yoon Y/n, what am I supposed to do with you?” Sunghoon took your hand and dried it with the hand towel resting on the kitchen counter. He also put some sanitizer on both your hands. His touch was gentle, as if your hands were fragile.

He slowly lifted one of your hands to his lips and kissed the back of it. You could feel warmth spread to his face, but you realized you weren’t blushing. It felt like you were just staring at him, completely mesmerized.

With his other hand, he gently caressed your cheek. "Alright, I admit it. I missed you so much that I'm trying to make up for it now."

Your throat felt dry, and you swallowed hard. Without realizing it, you ran your tongue over your lower lip. You noticed that Sunghoon was watching your every move, and he let out a breath as he took in what you did Your knees felt weak when you saw the expression on his face; there seemed to be a fire in his eyes, and his jaw muscles tightened. He leaned closer to you, and your breathing quickened as the distance between you closed.

"God, Y/n," he murmured, almost breathlessly.

Your heart raced as you closed your eyes, waiting for what would happen next.

"Hey, Y/n—,”

You both jumped at the sound of Daehi's voice. You pulled back from Sunghoon, releasing his hand and turning to look at your sister, your eyes wide with surprise.

Daehi paused for a moment, observing you both. After a beat, she broke into an apologetic smile. "Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know."

You felt your face heat up, but you pretended to act casual. "D-do you need something?"

Your sister's teasing gaze lingered on you. "Mom’s looking for her tablet. Did she leave it with you?"

"Ah..." Goodness, your mind seemed to have tangled up, making it hard to think straight. "Yeah. It's in my handbag," you finally replied as your memory kicked in. "Hold on, I'll get it."

You didn’t even glance at Sunghoon before leaving; you just weren’t ready to meet his eyes yet. Shaking your head, you left the two of them behind and headed upstairs to your room, where your bag is located.

—

Sunghoon watched as you walked away to retrieve what your mom needed. He couldn't hide his happiness. The atmosphere in the Yoon household reminded him of his parents' home, and he found himself not wanting to return to his own apartment. He was aware that you could see how he acted like a clingy boyfriend who couldn’t step away from you. Everything he said was genuine, and if he could, he would stay by your side until next week.

He heard Daehi giggling softly and turned to look at her. She was watching him with a playful smile.

"You’re really smitten," she remarked, and she didn’t seem offended by what she had just seen.

He smiled back but didn’t argue with her.

"I can tell the feelings are mutual. I’m really happy for you both. The more I see you together, the more convinced I am that you’re a perfect match."

Sunghoon chuckled. "Thanks, Daehi."

"Anytime, brother," she replied with a laugh. She gave him a light hug and playfully nudged him. "Let’s go wait for Y/n in the living room. Mom is already there."

Sunghoon spent hours chatting with your family about various topics while gradually feeling sleepy.

"What I've learned from this business is that life is short. No one is invincible to death, and no one can escape when their time is up," Mr. Yoon said. "I've heard so many stories from those who lost loved ones, regretting not having told them how much they loved them before it was too late."

"I still remember my first client, a twenty-one-year-old man who was about to graduate as the top of his class in just a month," you shared. "His mother was devastated because he was their hope. They were struggling; his mother was a seamstress, and his father was a plumber. Companies were already lined up to hire him upon graduation. But suddenly, while walking on their street, he was hit by a car driven by a drunk driver, and that was it." You shrugged. "All of his family's dreams went up in smoke. I can never forget that."

A moment of silence fell over the group as everyone absorbed the gravity of what they had just heard.

"And we must also remember that we can't take any material possessions with us when we die," your mom chimed in. "That's why I always remind Y/n about this."

"Mom," you said with a calm tone, widening your eyes slightly, as if already guessing what she was about to say.

"She doesn’t need to keep studying, working, and building up wealth," your mom continued as though she hadn’t heard you. "She can’t take her diplomas or money to the grave. What he should really focus on is finding a life partner."

Sunghoon chuckled as you groaned, hiding your face. "Mom, please…"

"What? Am I wrong?" she protested. "Look at you, you treat dating like it’s just another adventure. It’s a good thing you met her, dear," she said, turning to Sunghoon. "At least I know there’s someone decent who’ll care for him if something happens to us."

"Mom, you and Dad are still young. You're not going anywhere," you objected. "And I’m only twenty-five—there’s no need to rush.”

Amused by how cute you looked, Sunghoon couldn’t resist pinching your cheek.

"When I was your age, I already had two kids," your mom remarked, glancing at your dad, who had his eyes closed. She sighed. "Alright, I’m heading upstairs. It looks like your dad’s already out for the night."

“I’m still awake,” your dad mumbled.

“Oh, come on, it’s time to get to bed,” your mom said as she stood to give Sunghoon a quick hug. “We’ll leave you two now, dear. Thanks for picking us up at the airport and spending the day with us. Make sure to come back more often, alright? Good night!” She turned to your dad. “Come on.”

Your dad gave Sunghoon a smile as they walked toward the stairs. “Leaving you in the care of my two girls, Sunghoon. I’m ready to call it a night.”

“No problem, sir,” he replied.

“I’ll head up, too—Yuno’s calling me,” Daehi added, giving you both a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll leave you two love birds alone. Enjoy!”

Now, it was just the two of you. Sunghoon looked at you. “Are you tired?”

“Do you want to head home?” you asked back.

Honestly, he’d prefer to just stay here if he could. But he shook his head. “If you’re not tired yet, I’d like to stay. Just kick me out when you’re ready to call it a night.”

You smiled. “Let’s hold off for a bit, then.”

“Alright, let’s talk.” He moved a bit closer, gently taking your hand.

“You know, I think I live by the same ‘life is short’ motto your parents mentioned. I get that life is brief, so I’d rather make the most of it. No sense in wasting it on worries.”

Absentmindedly, you played with your entwined hands. "For me, life is indeed short, but it’s also an adventure. It’s brief, so I’m reaching for all my dreams while I still can… while there’s still time."

He turned to face you. “Your father’s right. We should tell people how we feel while we still have time,” he said, making you pause, eyes widening. “So let me say this: I missed you, Y/n.”

Some emotion flickered across your face before you smiled. Was that disappointment? “I missed you, too.”

Sunghoon gazed at you, taking in your features. Your face looked radiant in any light, your smile bright, eyes sparkling. Your heart pounded in your chest, a fluttery feeling rising in your stomach.

He cleared his throat, as if he’d just decided something. “And because life is short,” he said in a low voice, “I’m going to take this chance while I still can.” He gently cupped your face and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He had expected you to pull away, maybe even push him back, but your reaction surprised him. You kissed him back, your lips moving perfectly in sync with his.

Sunghoon’s knees nearly buckled, as if all his strength had drained away. He leaned in, deepening the kiss, and you allowed him without a second thought, matching his every move. He let out a soft, deep sound. You tasted faintly of the creamy coffee you'd had earlier… and something sweet he couldn’t quite place. Your lips were incredibly soft, and the smoothness of your cheek beneath his fingers only heightened the experience.

If only he had known it would feel like this, he would have done it on the very first day you both met.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and opened his eyes to look at you. Your eyes were still closed, lips slightly parted, as if you were waiting for more. And who was he to say no? He leaned in again, kissing you once more. It took him a moment longer before he finally managed to pull away.

He rested his forehead against yours. "I think it's time for me to go," he said, still catching his breath.

"Wait, what?" you replied, a bit stunned as you pulled back to look into his eyes. "I thought—"

"If I don't head out now, I might just do something impulsive," he said with a knowing smile.

Your eyes widened, and though he couldn’t see the blush, he felt the warmth radiate from your cheeks through his hands.

He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead before reluctantly stepping back and getting to his feet.

Day 19

"Tough luck, huh?” you said as the rain suddenly poured down while you both were on your way to Incheon.

The night before, you had walked Sunghoon to his car….

—

As he opened the door, he smiled at you. "I’ll see you tomorrow. Let’s go out."

You hesitated. "I’ve got a research paper I need to finish. It’s a special project my professor assigned as a substitute for the exams I missed last week."

He paused for a moment, thinking, then grinned. "Alright, how about we just go to a nearby beach? Maybe Eurwangni, near Incheon. You can work on your paper by the shore, and I’ll even help you out. Sound good?"

You smiled, endeared by his persistent charm.

"Alright, fine. See you then."

With a final kiss on your lips, he got into his car, leaving you with a smile as he drove off.

—

And now, here you were. The rain poured down like a storm, with strong winds accompanying it, prompting him to turn on the radio. It was then that you both found out a typhoon was on the way.

"Hmm, is this a sign that we should just go back and cuddle instead?" Sunghoon joked, grinning at you.

At the twinkle in your eyes, your cheeks flushed, and your imagination raced with various scenarios of Sunghoon lying in bed with you. You mentally scolded yourself; you had been like this since last night, with all sorts of thoughts suddenly surfacing—some of them rather steamy. It was partly his fault, too. That kiss he had given you before you parted ways had stirred up those thoughts. You had barely slept for two hours because of it.

Now, sitting beside him, your awareness of his presence felt intensified, as if the warmth radiating from your body was reaching out to him.

Your mouth felt dry, and your heart raced every time your eyes met his. You’d rather not think about the sensations stirring between your thighs.

This is getting out of hand.

"Y/n?" You felt Sunghoon’s gentle finger tapping your cheek. "Are you okay?"

You met his gaze while pretending not to notice the familiar sensations you were experiencing.

"Huh?" you replied, a little flustered. "Y-you were saying something?"

He furrowed his brow but didn’t comment on your odd behavior. "I was saying, do you want to work on your research at my place? It’s closer than heading back to your house. I think by this afternoon the storm will have passed, and the rain won’t be as heavy."

You couldn't answer right away. You knew that the guy lived alone, which meant you would have the place to yourselves. Plus, the weather was chilly because of the storm.

And there goes your naughty imagination once again...

You shut your eyes, trying to control your feelings.

"But if you're not comfortable, we can just go back to your place," Sunghoon said.

"W-we might get stranded on the road. Let’s just go to your pad. You can drop me off later when the rain eases up. I’ll just call my mom so she won't worry.

"Alright then,”

You nodded in response. And just within a few minutes later, you finally arrived at his place and started drying off. You had gotten a little wet from the rain when you exited the car.

“Here, wear this while we dry your clothes,” he said, handing you a towel along with a white t-shirt and boxer shorts. Which you gladly took from him.

“Thanks,” you replied. “Is it okay if I go to the bathroom first?”

“Of course, go ahead.”

The bathroom was clean and featured a modern, minimalist design that was just right for a young man like Sunghoon. You quickly dried off and changed into the clothes. The t-shirt was quite big, but the fabric felt comfortable against you.

When you stepped out, you saw Sunghoon in the kitchen, checking what was inside the refrigerator.

“Is there anything to eat in there?” you asked.

He turned to face you, and a look of appreciation lit up his eyes when he saw you. “Wow! That looks great on you,” he said, gesturing toward the clothes you were wearing.

Feeling a bit self-conscious, you glanced down. “The fabric feels really nice. Can I just keep this shirt?”

“Sure, go ahead,” he replied, then added quietly, “You've been taking my sanity since day one, anyway, so what's a shirt?”

You lifted your head, surprised by his comment. “What was that?”

He shook his head and quickly changed the topic. “I have ingredients for kimchi jjigae here, minus the tofu. Is that okay with you? Or would you rather order lunch instead?

“You can really cook?” you asked as you moved closer to look inside the refrigerator.

He took out a bag of kimchi and set it in a bowl. "Well, I haven’t experienced being confined to the hospital because of my cooking—at least, not yet." he said with a shrug and a smile. “I wanted to impress you and make something fancy, but this is all I have in my fridge.”

“Wow!” you laughed. “It’s fine, there’s always a next time. You can impress me another day.”

You were about to step beside him to help when you remembered your research project. “Oh, sorry. I’d love to help, but I just remembered my research.”

“It’s alright.” He gave you a light kiss on the top of your head and began slicing the green onions. “Go on, get to it. I’ll call you when the food’s ready.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you focused on your own tasks while the rain continued to pour outside. Every now and then, you’d steal a glance at him, amused by how absorbed he was in his cooking when a knock on the door interrupted both of you.

“I’ll get it,” Sunghoon said, quickly moving to open the door ahead of you.

“Hoonie, I really need your help!” came an overly dramatic painful in the ear voice.

“Yuri!” he said, surprised. “What’s wrong?”

You watched them curiously from a distance.

“There’s something making a creaking noise on my roof, and you’re the only person I feel close to here,” she said, grabbing onto his arm. She was wearing shorts so short they looked like underwear and a tight shirt that hugged her noticeably full chest. “Could you take a quick look? I’m worried it might blow away with this storm. Is that okay?”

Sunghoon looked back at you with a questioning expression.

“Oh, you have company,” she said, waving at you in an overly friendly manner. “Sorry about that! I’m Yuri, Hoonie’s neighbor and friend.”

"Hi, I’m Y/n," you replied with a polite smile.

"Is it okay if I borrow him for a bit? I really need his help," she said in that same high-pitched tone that was beginning to grate on your nerves. So, you just nodded quickly, "No problem." Then you looked over at Sunghoon and smiled. "I’ll keep an eye on your cooking too.”

“I’ll be right back!” Hoon had said before being pulled away by the woman, whose presence somehow left you feeling a bit annoyed.

It wasn’t that you had any issues with women who dress a bit provocatively—it’s their choice. But there was just something about this one that got under your skin. She seemed to have a flirtatious edge in everything she did and said. And yes, even the way she dressed felt like it was designed to grab Hoon’s attention.

You’re overthinking things, Y/n…

You told yourself.

Still, you couldn’t shake off the sense that, if Sunghoon were to start dating someone else after you’re done with this 25-day dating thing you had with him, Yuri would be the first to jump at the chance.

You pushed away the negative feelings and stood up from the couch to check on Hoon’s cooking. Everything was simmering nicely, with the heat on low to keep things from overcooking. You also noticed the rice cooker was on, and it looked like he had started preparing dessert—given the slices of fruits he had set aside along with a can of Sprite. Impressive for someone you considered your “pseudo” date; he wasn’t just all handsome but also knew his way around the kitchen. Whoever ends up marrying that guy will be damn heck of a lucky woman.

You went ahead and continued setting up lunch.

Just as you finished, the door opened, and Sunghoon stepped inside, shirtless and soaked from the rain.

What a combo…

You quickly ran to grab the towel he had used earlier and handed it to him. "What happened to you?" you asked, feeling your breath hitch as you took him in.

Your eyes couldn't help but wander over his bare form, dressed now in only his shorts. His body was lean and muscular, his skin glistening with rainwater. He looked hard everywhere—from the sharp lines of his jawline to his shoulders, pecs, arms, and abs…

Honestly, just looking at his torso made you feel full. Lunch suddenly felt optional.

You decided not to let your gaze drift any lower from his abs; no need to find anything else that might be, well… hard.

"Sorry, I took a while. Turns out there was more to fix on Yuri’s roof than I expected." Without seeming to notice your gaze, he handed you his wet shirt and began drying himself off. "Are you hungry?"

Then he looked at you, really looked at you, and there it was—the realization. His smile faded, and a spark ignited in his eyes as he noticed the effect he was having on you.

You swallowed unconsciously, feeling your breath hitch. He must’ve seen a different kind of hunger in your eyes—probably noticed that your hands were itching to touch his chest, his abs, his arms. Your heart pounded even harder as he took a slow, deliberate step toward you. Your knees practically turned to jelly under the weight of his intense, half-lidded gaze.

He raised a hand, lightly brushing his thumb across your cheek. But before you could even react, he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting whatever he had wiped away from your face.

"Condensed milk? What kind of dessert are you making?" His tone was casual, but his gaze burned as it lingered on you.

Jerk…

"Uh..." You swallowed, trying to keep your composure. "It’s… it’s nothing. You can try it later."

"Can’t wait," he murmured, though the way he looked at your lips suggested he had something else in mind he’d like to taste. "I’m gonna go shower again."

He left, and you finally let out a breath. It was only then you realized the wet shirt in your hands was now soaking your legs. With a sigh, you went to the laundry area to dry it up.

When Sunghoon returned, he mentioned feeling cold, which was obvious given he was wrapped up in a thick sweatshirt and jogging pants. Having a meal together and some hot soup seemed to help him feel a bit better, and he really enjoyed the hwachae dessert you’d made.

But soon enough, he was back to feeling unwell, lying on the couch next to you under a heavy blanket. You’d already given him some medicine for the flu.

Gently, you ran your fingers through his hair. "Why didn’t that Yuri just call a carpenter?" you muttered irritably. "Now look—you’re sick because of her."

"She couldn’t get a carpenter out there in this storm," he replied, voice slightly hoarse.

"That’s exactly my point! It’s storming, and she still had you go up on the roof! What if a lightning struck you?” you scolded.

Sunghoon opened his eyes, giving you a playful smile. “I don’t think it was her intention to get me hurt or sick. I think she just wanted to see me soaked, with my shirt sticking to me. I even took it off for her sake. Poor girl’s been trying so hard with her charms.”

You playfully tugged his hair. “You’re such a flirt. You knew exactly what she was doing, yet you still played along.”

He chuckled. “I’ve made it pretty clear to Yuri in plenty of ways that I’m not interested. She just doesn’t give up, so I let it go.” You felt a hint of satisfaction at that, though you tried not to show it. “But why not? She’s beautiful, has smooth skin, and, well… she’s got curves.”

He gave a subtle, meaningful smile. “I’m a lot more drawn to a certain sexy embalmer.”

Your cheeks warmed, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Just let me know if you want to go home. I can still give you a ride," he murmured, his gaze soft on you.

You shook your head as you finished packing up your laptop. "No, Hoon. I don’t want you taking any risks.”

“No, really, I’ll drive you.”

“Should I call Sohyun? Maybe she can come over so you’re not alone.” You remembered Sohyun lived nearby.

He closed his eyes, looking a bit sleepy. “She’s out of town with her fellow teachers. She won’t be back until next week.”

“Oh, right,” you said. “I called home earlier, and Mom warned she’d shave my head if I left you here alone while you’re still unwell.”

“Really?” He let out a soft laugh. “Don’t tell me you two are already planning on trapping me into marriage?”

“Wow, the ego,” you chuckled as he shifted closer until his head rested in your lap. “I’d be up for it… just not when I’m this defenseless.” He took your hand and held it to his cheek. “Just wait until the medicine kicks in, then I’ll give you my full cooperation with the whole marriage plot.” He closed his eyes, finally settling in.

You chuckled softly. "You're really something."

For a few moments, you let yourself simply stare at his face as he lay there, eyes closed, resting his cheek in the warmth of your hand. A soft smile appeared on your lips. There was a sense of peace within you. You felt content, happy to be someone he needed—even if just for now, even if only for today. But that happiness was tinged with sadness, knowing you’d have to step back soon, and someone else might take your place, offering the comfort you could only give for a limited time.

That thought settled heavily in your heart, bringing a quiet ache you were already feeling now.

————

Day 20

Sunghoon woke up in the early hours feeling significantly better. And his mood lifted even more when he opened his eyes to find your face inches from his, both of you tucked together tightly on the sofa. The air was still chilly from the rain that drizzled outside, quieter now than the night before.

"Go back to sleep, it's only a little past two," you murmured, brushing a hand gently over his hair.

He furrowed his brow, hearing a slight edge in your tone, and his eyes searched yours more closely. "Have you been crying?" he asked, concerned.

You shook your head with a faint smile, but that didn’t ease the worry in his gaze. Something felt off. He started to rise, wanting to get a better look at you, but your hands held his face tenderly.

“Your fever’s gone. How are you feeling?” you asked, your voice soft.

He took a moment to assess himself. "Better. Thank you for staying with me."

You smiled before pulling his face down, kissing him. The moment his lips met yours, his body reacted instinctively. He could feel heat spreading through him. You deepened the kiss, your lips brushing softly against his, until he parted his mouth and your tongue slipped in, drawing a groan from him. Sparks seemed to ignite along every nerve.

You shifted to pull him closer, one of your hands roaming under his sweatshirt, skimming over his chest with warm, gentle strokes that had his breath hitching. He was overwhelmed by the softness of your touch.

He pulled back, panting, trying to regain control, but you just trailed your lips down his jaw and to his neck. "We need to stop," he whispered, though his hands betrayed him, tracing down your back and sides. You felt so warm beneath his touch, every inch of him aching to feel more.

"Sunghoon..." you murmured, lifting the edge of his sweatshirt. "Please."

He finally gave in to you and himself. He reached for your face and kissed you again on the lips. Every movement was heated, and it felt like there was something he wanted to say. He pulled away slightly from your lips. You groaned, protesting.

“Y/N, don’t do this, baby, please. I might do something we’ll both regret.” He nuzzled your neck and gave it a playful lick. You bit your lower lip, but a moan still escaped as you arched your back, giving him space for what he was doing.

Breathless, he lowered his head and traced your collarbone with his lips and tongue, moving back to your neck and jaw. You moaned aloud.

And shit, he was aroused like he had never felt before. And it had only been a few kisses that you shared in that moment.

“Y/N…” he whispered in your ear before giving it a small bite. “Tell me to stop. Please.” He needed you to refuse, to push him away and act uninterested. But your reaction was the opposite. You were responsive, so sweet, so soft and warm...

You reached for both sides of his head and gazed at him from beneath your heavy eyelids. “I won’t regret anything, I promise,” you murmured, caressing his lips. “Please, Sunghoon. I need this. I need you. Kiss me.”

The throaty quality in your voice did it. Or maybe it was your soft, fragrant body splayed over him. Or the hazy desire in your eyes. Or your scent. Maybe it was your zeal despite the innocence in your kisses. It could also be everything about you.

The rain continued to pour outside, but neither of you felt cold.

Sunghoon moved to stand up, quickly carrying you to his room. He kissed you on the lips and allowed the two of you to tumble onto the bed. You bumped into each other a bit and burst into laughter. But your smiles faded when you locked eyes. He caressed your cheek. “Are you sure you know what we’re going to do?”

You rolled your eyes and punched him in the arm. “What do you think I am, five?”

You laughed, but it sounded different—tense, full of desire that was desperately trying to escape you. “I’m just making sure. Are you really sure about this? You can still back out. Just say the word anytime.”

You looked at him, a soft, heart-wrenching emotion in your eyes. “I’m sure. Stop being annoying. I want this. I want to be yours tonight. I want to make love with you.”

It was like gasoline that ignited the fire within him even more. His knees shook, and his heart raced.

“Oh, God,” he said, almost moaning.

He was sure he did not do anything to deserve this.

—

A spark lit up in Sunghoon's eyes when he heard you. Then, he was on you—kissing your lips, your neck, your jaw; his hands roaming, pressing against your chest over the fabric of your shirt, gripping your waist and hips. Neither of you even remembered the storm raging outside. You were both too lost in the heat you were creating, the passion between the two of you.

He tugged at the bottom of your shirt. "Let's take this off. I want to see you." You sat up, helping him lift it off, along with your bra.

Lying back down, you bit your lip, but couldn't suppress the soft, inviting sound that slipped from your throat as he traced his hand down from your neck to your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. He slipped them off, gazing at you with a searing look. “Oh, God,” he murmured, breathless. “You’re beautiful.”

Your back arched instinctively under his heated gaze, an involuntary response. “Sunghoon…”

Feeling your urgency, he reached behind his neck, pulling his sweatshirt over his head.

He stood up, removing his joggers and boxers, then reached into a drawer, grabbing a foil packet and placing it on the side table

The bed creaked as he lay back down on his side, cupping your face to kiss you again. You let your hands drop to caress his chest and shoulders. He felt hot and firm everywhere, making every feminine part of you tremble in anticipation. He kneaded your breast, taking one peak into his mouth, and your body shuddered as you moaned his name. It felt like every inch of you was vibrating, heating up. You cradled his head to pull him closer as he teasingly slid his tongue over the skin of your breast before taking the other stiff peak into his mouth.

Good lord, you weren’t prepared for this.

It was too... divine.

You gasped when you felt his other hand exploring between your thighs, where you were wet and eager. You tried to squeeze your thighs together, but he gently pushed them apart. Then he was touching your most intimate area, sliding a finger along your drenched slit.

“Oh, my God, Sunghoon…” you called out, unable to explain what you were feeling. It was as if you were about to melt or explode.

“So sweet, so soft. I want to lick you all over,” he murmured in your ear. He kissed you passionately as his hand continued to move.

You tore your mouth away from his and moaned loudly as you felt his finger gently slipping inside you. Your body moved on its own, trembling with pleasure. “Oh fuck…”

Breathless, he lowered his head back to your chest. He captured one peak and lightly bit it, causing a low shout to escape your lips. Then, his hand moved faster, and every muscle in your body tensed at the delicious sensation.

Your eyes widened as you stared at Sunghoon’s face, watching him with a hot, serious expression. He looked so fucking hot. And this same gorgeous man was touching you intimately... and he seemed to be enjoying it.

“Fuck, Sunghoon!” you called out.

“Yes,” he whispered, his gaze locked onto you, his jaw clenched as he held back his own desires. You let go, your mouth opening in a silent gasp, but no sound came out. Your entire body trembled in fulfillment.

Before you could recover, Sunghoon kissed you hotly. His hands moved to put on what was needed to protect you both. He was determined to take you completely. He kissed you passionately while gently making his entrance, and the pleasure-pain brought tears to your eyes.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, stopping immediately. There was a sense of pride in his voice, knowing he was the first person you had completely surrendered to. “Can you handle more?”

“W-wait,” you replied, filled with emotion. This was the moment. You had fully given yourself to Sunghoon.

“You feel so good,” he said, showering your face and neck with kisses. “It’s never felt like this before.” His lips trailed down to your chest, kissing you before you could even respond. Your muscles twitched, and beads of sweat formed on your skin. Then, you felt him nibbling at your flesh.

You called his name in a breathy whisper.

He groaned and took one of your stiff peaks into his warm mouth. A long moan escaped you as your body arched, matching the way your internal muscles squeezed around him. Sunghoon let out a loud groan. “Shit, Y/n! Don’t! You’re driving me crazy,” he exclaimed, feeling himself stiffen against you, struggling to maintain control.

“Sunghoon,” you called out, unsure of what to say. “Just get on with it!”

Despite the slick sweat and the effort it took to move, he chuckled. “So bossy,” he teased in a raspy voice. You smiled, but it quickly vanished as he moved slowly inside you, showering your chest with kisses while whispering your name.

Breathless, you tightened your legs around his waist. You shuddered with each movement he made, letting out sounds you would usually find embarrassing, but right now, you didn’t care. Sunghoon let out a low, rough breath, and you thought the sound was incredibly sexy. Desperately, you called his name, almost begging him to give you what you needed—and he did.

Your hands clung tightly to his shoulders, your muscles tensing as you finally reached your peak. Colors exploded behind your closed eyelids, warmth spreading through every fiber of your being. He kept moving for a few more moments, then reached his own climax. Catching your breath and covered in sweat, you slowly returned to reality.

When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by Sunghoon’s smiling face. “Ah, Y/n. You’re going to be the death of me.”

“That was amazing,” you murmured with a smile.

Something about your words must have ignited something in him because you saw the fire in his eyes reignite. Your eyes widened as you felt him begin to harden again inside you.

“Fuck, Y/n…” he whispered, before covering your mouth with his in a deep kiss, not giving you a chance to say anything else.

—

It was nearly noon when Sunghoon woke up, hours later than usual. The first thing he did was reach over, searching for you beside him. But when his hand touched only mattress and blankets, his eyes flew open. You were nowhere to be found.

Panic rising, he got up quickly and checked the bathroom. Empty.

He stepped out of the room. “Y/n?” he called, but there was no sign of you in the kitchen or the living room. Even your bag and laptop was gone. Grabbing his phone, he dialed your number, but no one answered.

It was Sunday—maybe you were attending church and had your phone on silent, which would explain why you hadn’t noticed his calls. With a sigh, he set his phone aside and went back to the bedroom. You’d probably left early to ease your parents’ concerns. He decided he’d just drop by your house later to invite you to dinner. For now, he needed to focus on his work, confident that he’d see you soon. Just a little more patience.

All day, Sunghoon kept trying to reach you with calls and texts, but there was still no answer. He thought maybe it was a network issue or perhaps your phone had run out of battery.

Either way, he reassured himself he’d see you soon.

With anticipation, he showered, dressed carefully, and bought a bouquet of roses matching the color of the dress you wore when you first met, along with your favorite chocolates. While in traffic, he called a nice restaurant to reserve a table for two.

Tonight, he was going to ask you to date him exclusively, officially. He figured you might be taken aback, but he’d explain that he didn’t want any time limits on being with you anymore. Excitement filled him—until it quickly turned to worry when he arrived at your house, and you weren’t there. Your mom told him you’d gone out of town but didn’t say where.

Sunghoon tried to stay calm, reasoning that you’d return soon. You had school, and it was too early for you to miss more days, especially since you’d just come back from Busan.

Yet a deep, sudden fear settled inside him.

———

Day 24

“Something othering you?” Sohyun called out as she approached Sunghoon from behind.

Sunghoon saved his work and turned to look at his twin.

“I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You’re being way too serious over there.” She came closer to check out the drawing of a woman for his current erotica book project. “That’s cute! What’s the title?”

“The Ethical Manwhore. It’s your typical plot— the main character is a player who meets a naive girl and falls in love with her.”

Sohyun’s eyes lit up. “That actually sounds interesting since he’s described as ethical—meaning he has some standards. Let me know when it’s out; I want to buy a copy.”

In a way, his sister's banters lightened the weight he was feeling.

“I brought you a little something; you and Y/n can share it.” And just like that, his small joy vanished into thin air.

“T-thanks,” Sunghoon replied with a smile. But if his sister weren’t so perceptive, she wouldn’t have noticed that his smile was forced. They were too close, i mean—they’re practically twins, for her to miss that.

“You look troubled. Is something wrong?” He turned to face his computer, trying to avoid her gaze.

“Just stressed about work.”

She didn’t respond, and he heard her walk over to the sofa, her favorite spot facing him.

“How’s Y/n?”

There it was—the question he had been dreading to answer. He shrugged.

“Did something happen?”

He hesitated before answering, “I don’t know,” he cleared his throat before he continued, “I haven’t seen her in four days. She might have gone out of town.”

“Really?” Sohyun went silent. When he glanced over her, she was already busy with her phone. With a sigh, he returned to his work from the previous days; that was all his life revolved around—his work and trying to contact you. He had nearly given up on the latter yesterday because he felt like a fool.

He had visited the Yoon house several times but never caught you at home. According to your mom, you were busy with a group project, which is why you were always away. He couldn’t even count how many texts he had sent you or how many times he called. He knew you were a free spirit and loved to be spontaneous, traveling everywhere, but if he meant something to you, couldn’t you at least send a reply?

Sunghoon was feeling frustrated, sad, and worried. He was missing you badly.

“Oh, wait. Seems like she’s in Jeju,” Sohyun suddenly said, interrupting his thoughts. “Someone tagged her on IG.” She was about to show him the phone when she quickly pulled it away. “Oh, wait—never mind. Must’ve overlooked it.”

His brow furrowed. “What was that? Let me see.”

“Forget it,” his sister said, keeping the phone out of reach.

“Come on, Sohyun! I just want to see.” He reached for her hand, but she dodged him and stood up from the sofa.

“Forget it, Sunghoon!”

“Sohyun, please just let me see,” he urged. He didn’t have an Instagram account, so he couldn’t check it himself.

“Sunghoon, stop it! It’s not for you to look at.” Her tone reminded him of their childhood when their parents would cover their eyes during romantic scenes in movies. Especially when it involved kissing. This only made him more curious. “Why not? What is it?” They engaged in a playful tug-of-war over the phone.

But since he was taller and stronger, he managed to overpower her. He shot her a glare and glanced at the screen, where he saw a picture of you in a black bikini top and denim shorts, holding a surfboard, with a picturesque backdrop of sand, sea, and sky… and Jiwon beside you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

It has as caption that says,

Learning surfing is way more fun when your instructor is this gorgeous. 😩

And below it was a mention,

my @yo.on_y/n 💕

Which the post received at least a thousand likes and numerous teasing comments. He checked the date of the post—it was from Sunday, the day he had started losing contact with you.

Frustrated, he handed the phone back to his sister.

“I told you not to look at it,” she said.

Without responding, he left her on the sofa and turned his attention back to his computer.

“Your twenty-five days together are over, right?” she said after a moment. “So, you’re probably not jealous that she’s with someone else, right?”

Sunghoon closed his eyes to keep himself from snapping at his sister. He was starting to take back what he said about her being perceptive when it came to him; clearly, that wasn’t true.

“Jiwon’s fine, though. I’ve met him, actually. He’s mature, not commitment-phonic, and he’s liked Y/n for a long time—since high school—.”

“Yeah, I’m thrilled for them. Excuse me, but I have a work to finish.” He put his earbuds in and turned up a loud song to drown out anything else his sister might say.

“There’s some leftover ramen in the fridge. Just heat it up if you’re hungry,” he added.

—

Sunghoon stood up from the sofa when the door of your house opened, and you stepped inside. He’d been coming by every afternoon for days, waiting for a chance to see you, and finally, he’d caught you.

You were dressed in a plain t-shirt, denim shorts, sneakers, and carried a large backpack. The surprise was clear on your face as you saw him. “Oh, hi,” you greeted him.

“The tan suits you,” he managed to say. “How was Jeju?”

“It was okay.” You set your bag down on the coffee table, keeping your eyes lowered. He could almost see you struggling to find the right words.

He wanted to confront you. Was group project for now a code for surfing in Jeju with a guy that’s pursuing you? or worse, dating you? how the fuck would he know?

“Can we talk?” he asked.

You looked at him for a moment.

“Let’s go to the café nearby,” you finally agreed. “I’ll just tell Mom.”

You went to the kitchen, where your mother was preparing a snack for you. Sunghoon took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He couldn’t explain his feelings—nervous and tense, as if something was squeezing his chest and throat, making it hard to breathe. He was beyond anxious.

Soon, you returned without changing or even freshening up.

“Let’s go,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

The short drive to the café was silent. You only spoke once you were seated with your drinks, exchanging an awkward greeting. You mentioned that you had returned from Jeju since Monday and had just come from a groupmate’s house to work on a project.

He only gave a slight nod in response.

It felt as though you two had turned back into strangers, and for Sunghoon, it was like a knife piercing his heart.

“S-so,” you eventually spoke up, breaking the awkward silence, “was there something we needed to talk about?”

Something burst within him, and he couldn’t hold back the bitterness any longer. “Well, I thought you’d at least have the decency to break things off with me properly,” he said.

You flinched as if he’d struck you, then gave him a bitter smile. “Do we really need an official ending? Isn’t it automatic after the twenty-five days are up?”

“It’s not twenty-five days yet, Y/n. Do you need a calendar? We’re only on Day 24.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Oh, so we’re supposed to break up tomorrow? Sorry, I guess I lost track on my counting.”

Sunghoon felt his frustration rise at your tone. Why were you being sarcastic? Why did it feel like you were the one who’s upset here?

“You left me after Day 20. You owe me four more days. You need to date me for those four days.” He knew he sounded childish, but he didn’t know how else to bridge the gap between you two. You might think he’d lost his mind by now, but he didn’t care.

“What?” you laughed, clearly confused. “Sunghoon, those are just the technicalities. We were going to break up anyway; that was already decided. What difference does it make if it’s Day 20 or Day 2? We would still end up breaking up.” You suddenly stood up, and he instinctively grabbed your arm before you could leave.

“No, Y/n, we can’t just end it like this.”

“What’s wrong with you?” you snapped, then, realizing you were in public, you lowered your voice. “Fine. You want a proper breakup? Here it is—I’m officially breaking up with you, Park Sunghoon. Goodbye.” You yanked your arm from his grip and walked out without a backward glance. He was stunned as he watched you leave the café. He frustratedly slammed his clenched fist onto the table.

He knew he’d said something wrong. He was sure of it….

a/n: continuation is posted on my timeline 🫶🏻

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Fanfic Thieves on Youtube

A collection of youtube channels have been uploading preexisting fanfictions in videos with little to no credit to the original authors. These are not podfics, these channels copy-paste the fics into text-to-speech readers then upload the unaltered audio over static or unrelated backgrounds, either art that is also stolen or mobile game footage. In addition to not naming the authors, they alter the title to make it that much harder for readers to recognize or find the original uploads. Some go so far as to pretend they themselves are creating the fics in question. Many claim that their stealing actually helps give fics "exposure" despite the intentional steps they take to conceal the origins of the fics they profit off of. However, this practice has lead many authors to discontinue fics after the frustration of having their hard work stolen. Many of these channels claim they will remove videos upon request, but will either argue with the author in order to keep it up, or simply unlist the video for a time until they think the author isn't paying attention anymore. And their solution to receiving strikes against their channels in the past has been to further obfuscate the origins of their content instead of even considering asking first.

”I got caught stealing, so instead of not stealing anymore, I’m doubling down on stealing even more so it’s harder for people to find out and prove I’m stealing. Stealing doesn't count if the specific person I stole from didn't call me out. I am the real victim.”

That, plus the incessant tag scumming in all the videos (spamming unrelated tags in order to appear in more search results) proves to me that these are lazy attention seekers who don't want to put in creative effort when they could just leech off of the passion of others.

In order to report them, go to their channel's "About" page and click the flag icon. Said icon might be behind the three dots in the top bar on mobile. Go to "Report User" at the bottom and tick the "spam and scams" button. This will allow you to list multiple videos as offenders instead of reporting them individually. Youtube's policy states that video spam constitutes:

Massively uploading content that you scraped from other creators.

Auto-generated content that computers post without regard for quality or viewer experience.

If you recognize one of your fics among the stolen, say so in the additional comments box, and perhaps call out the channel directly in the video's comments. If you recognize someone else's fic, please let the original author know so they can report the channel as well. Many have been confronted for stealing previously and refuse to admit wrongdoing.

Most of what I've found has been My Hero Academia fics since that's my fandom and those are the ones I can recognize as stolen, but there are many other channels that steal from other fandoms, so I invite anyone and everyone to reblog this with their own findings.

The reality is that this extremely low-effort content and new youtube channels are both very easy to make, so most likely they'll start new channels once the ones on this list are run through. But hopefully, if we all work together and keep whacking these moles, perhaps we can instill that same defeatism they caused so many creators who didn't deserve it, and eventually they'll give up.

My sincerest thanks to everyone who helped bring additional channels to my attention. A special thanks to ao3 user InArduisFidelis who brought the initial attention to the issue, and @owlf45 whose work was stolen.

Links under the cut.

YurikoFanfics - Not only stole content, but acted in comments as though they were the one writing these stories.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@YurikoFanfics

What-IF-Anime - Has the exact same "disclaimer" about not being the original author as the one above. Either they're the same person or the thieves are stealing from each other.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@What-IF-Anime

quirkywhatif7 - Either an alt of the above, or all these people are talking to one another because this one made a community post identical to a comment the one above made in response to being called out (the above screenshots).

https://www.youtube.com/@quirkywhatif7/about

DekuFanfic - It's the same fucking guy again.

https://www.youtube.com/@DekuFanfic/about

InfiniteParadoxfanfics - Nothing notable, same deal as the others.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@InfiniteParadoxfanfics/about

WhatIfAnimeChannel - Admits in their community posts that other people write the fics they post but still doesn't give credit. Migrated to a new channel after issues with youtube, likely being flagged previously.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeChannel/about

WhatIfAnimeAll - Alt of above.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeAll

FWNWorld - Makes sure to tell you that the videogame footage is theirs, but can't bother to credit anyone else.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@FWNWorld/about

WTFW - Claims to have "[A] team of talented writers, voice actors, and artists work together to create immersive fan fiction stories that are sure to captivate your imagination." Just the same test-to-speech stolen content over videogames. So straight up lying claiming that everything is theirs (and that anything they make is quality).

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WTFW

MHA2.0Fanfics - Lots of crossover theft.

https://www.youtube.com/@MHA2.0Fanfics/about

Collerwhatiif - Pretty sure this one is the same guy as the previous 2, also has one for another fandom.

https://www.youtube.com/@Collerwhatiif/about

https://www.youtube.com/@GoJoFanfiction/videos

ko_sensei - Another that claims to have a "team" that makes the stories they steal: " passionate about creating compelling and engaging fanfiction that explores the various "what ifs" in the anime universe."

https://www.youtube.com/@ko_sensei/about

FantasticWhatIf - Multifandom stealing, uses the exact same bs disclaimer as many others.

https://www.youtube.com/@FantasticWhatIf/about

LettuceHeadFanfics - No credit, no acknowledgement of anything. Next one is an alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@LettuceHeadFanfics/about

brocollifanfics - Alt of above, once again admits to stealing with a declaration of "☆If you want to takedown any videos. You can mail us or leave a comment below the video☆"

https://www.youtube.com/@brocollifanfics/about

whatifofficial786 - Focuses on MHA/Naruto crossovers. Identical format.

https://www.youtube.com/@whatifofficial786/about

NotWhatIf - I've lost track of who's an alt of who but yet another identical format, descriptions, and bullshit claims of "enhancing the viewer experience" by putting a robot voice over bootleg fortnite footage.

https://www.youtube.com/@NotWhatIf/about

weebxds - Same again.

https://www.youtube.com/@weebxds/about

ItachiFanfics - Naruto channel, we can at least confirm that this one is run by a human given the rare different descriptions and a real voice at the beginning of videos before the robot comes back.

https://www.youtube.com/@ItachiFanfics/about

WhatIfDN - As if mockingly, a bunch of videos have a "credit" section in their descriptions that is of course blank.

https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfDN/about

SpiceandBooks and spiceandfiction - Apparently Youtube itself has started picking up on the bullshit, because this multifandom channel is being dinged as ai spam so they started a new one.

https://www.youtube.com/@SpiceandBooks/about

https://www.youtube.com/@spiceandfiction/about

theoriginalastra - Doesn't even bother with disclaimers, the following are multiple alts/potential alts for different fandoms.

https://www.youtube.com/@theoriginalastra/about

SillySenpai12 - Highschool DXD alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@SillySenpai12/about

RosieRealms - Naruto alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@RosieRealms/about

DekuWhatIfs - Potentially another astra alt but not sure, doesn't matter because all these channels do the same thing anyway.

AnimeStark688 - No credits or disclaimers.

https://www.youtube.com/@AnimeStark688/about

Please take the time to report these channels, spread this post around, and reblog with any additional offending channels you find.

[rassicas]

QUESTION, how do Inkfish have milk/milk flavoured things if there are no mammals to produce it? And if they synthesized the milk, how would they know that its nutritional? Or that it can be made into cheese/yogurt?

Even if theyre using oats or nuts to make milk substitues, i dont think those can be used to make other dairy products right? Idk im not a biologist

for this ask i thought about just linking the wikipedia pages for plant milk and vegan cheese or the video where i touch on this topic and leaving it at that, but i thought that would come off as too passive aggressive and i dont like that with how often i see this question floating around still i think its worth going into a bit more so i can just link this post in case anyone ever asks again.

“One thing we know about the world of Splatoon is that mammals are basically gone,” said Nogami, seated across from me in a small room behind Nintendo’s booth. “So they don’t eat beef or pork or the meat of mammals.” With Splatoon 2 playing on a screen, Nogami walked his Inkling over to a corner in Inkopolis square where a bright ad played for cereal. A crab chowed down on a bowl of milky carbs. “There’s no mammals, so whatever is being poured over the cereal might not be milk,” Nogami laughed. Hm. Okay. So what do Inklings eat? “Veggies, birds, fish,” said Nogami. “Some bread.” -- What do Squid Kids Eat? Splatoon’s Producer Explains

So the facts are: -Mammals are basically gone (excluding Judds/Grizz) -They drink milk that isn't real milk -There are crops cultivated in the Inkling world The obvious conclusion is that they use plant-based substitutes. there are a few questions that could spawn from this.... Q1: a bunch of stuff went extinct in the splatoon world. what kind of dairy substitutes could they use exactly? A: canonically, inklings have a variety of rice and soy-based products. a few types of nuts are confirmed to exist. they eat coconuts too. you can make milk out of all of these, as well as other dairy products like cheese and yogurt. They're not limited to plants either...

i swear everyone ive shown the left image goes like EWWW THEY EAT INK but like. squid ink is edible in real life. i dont get why this is weird?? nobody said ewww at the squiddymelon which i imagine would absorb ink to change colors like that. the concept that inklings figured out Ink-based dairy products is fucking awesome. anyways Q2: how did they figure this out? A: I think the answer can be found by looking into the history of plant milks in our world. Humans have been making and consuming plant based milks like soy and almond milk for centuries. the consumption of coconut milk goes back millennia. plant based cheeses are not as old, but still go back a hundred or so years. a lot of other dairy substitutes emerged in the past 50 years. Inklings figured out plastics, fish egg energy, and computers, surely at some point in their 2000+ year history, they figured out plant-based milks, cheeses, and yogurts. It's also possible that recipes from the human era survived. maybe they learned about dairy products that way. oh wait isn't there a sunken scroll about human era recipes?

yes There's also a non-zero chance that Judd could've taught the inklings about the human era and their food. The other question i can think of is... Q3: is there any specific mention of a plant based substitute being used instead of a mammalian product in splatoon? A: yes<3

In 2019 there was JP only splatfest, pineapple vs. no pineapple. It's about whether you put pineapple on subuta (japanese sweet and sour pork.) (i dont have strong opinions on pineapple, but the subuta at gyoza no osho. bro it will make me hurt myself and others. literally licking the fucking plate its so yummy. anyways.) Now pigs are extinct. How would pearl and marina have opinions on a pork dish?

「だな！ アタシんちの古い書庫で見つけたレシピで ロブに作ってもらったやつだろ？」 「豚という生き物が 絶滅しちゃってるから 大豆とかで代用した 「酢豚風」でしたけどね♪」 Pearl: "That's the recipe you found in the old archives at my place, and Crusty Sean made it for you, right?" Marina: "Yeah, though since those creatures called pigs are extinct, he substituted it for soy and some other things to make a "subuta-style" dish~ "

this is the only thing i have seen that confirms plant-based substitutes being used for mammal meat in splatoon's setting. i learned of this just recently and i was SO happy this was confirmed somewhere<3 I think this gives a lot of weight to the idea that they'd use soy milk and other soy-based dairy products.

[woncheolisms]

want you bad. (lee chan x reader)

summary: when a mishap during university examinations lands you and your colleague lee chan into a mountain of work, you suggest pulling an all nighter to get it done. you end up doing everything except the actual work assigned to you.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: teacher!dino x teacher!reader, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, slightly subby!chan, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), questionable professional behavior, chan is down bad, mentions of alcohol

It’s a little too early in the morning to talk to anyone, but when Lee Chan walks into your office with a grin and two cups of coffee, you can’t help but smile back.

You’re going over the Study Guide for the next semester when you hear a knock on your door, followed by a head of chestnut hair poking in. You usher him in with your hand, turning away from your computer screen to face him. He plops into one of two chairs before your desk, placing your cup before you. You take a sip immediately, humming as the bitter taste of coffee hits your tongue. Milk and sugar as well. Chan knows how you like your coffee by now.

“How was your weekend?” he asks, pushing up his glasses and looking at you expectantly. You realized early on that Chan doesn’t really do small talk like everyone else. He listens to everything you say attentively, no matter how drab the question. That’s what he’s doing right now, nodding as you tell him what you did on the weekend. Which isn’t much. Last week was finals week. You mostly just slept off the fatigue of it.

“I hear you,” he sighs, leaning back. “But I have to say, it was much better this time around. Last time, I was doing everything pretty much on my own.”

You scowl. “What about the other teachers?”

He rolls his eyes and makes a face. “They aren’t much help. Ugh, tenure changes people.”

You giggle at his words and he cracks a smile at the sound, returning to his coffee.

Chan is your closest—and only—friend at work. Unfortunately for you two, most of the department besides you are much, much senior to you. You joined just last semester, and until then, Chan had been braving the sea of old people (his words) all on his own. The thing about tenure is pretty real. Most of them don’t give a fuck about anything anymore except showing up to class, giving a lecture, and leaving. Almost everything else—making exam papers, then marking them afterward—falls on you and Chan. Since you’ve just started out and Chan is fairly new to this line of work too, neither of you really want to step on any toes. So you two just… do everything.

It’s naive, actually. Taking on a workload that isn’t yours. But you muscle through. You mark all the essays and submit them to the Department of Examinations. They’ll compile the result and post it on the university portal. And that’ll be it. Your job is done.

You and Chan make idle conversation as you finish your coffees. He talks about his weekend (he went hiking with his friends), complaining that his legs are sore now. His hair, which is always neatly brushed when he clocks into work, is quickly getting messier since he has a terrible habit of running his hands through it. It’s your typical morning routine. Chan shows up with coffee (even though you’ve insisted many times that you would pay for it, he doesn’t take your money), you talk about your days, and then either of you has a class or some other paperwork to get to, so you go back to your schedules.

Chan stands up, empty coffee cup in hand, sighing and stretching a bit. He brushes his hand over his torso to straighten his button-up blue shirt, shaking out his slacks too.

“I should head back now,” he announces, as usual. “I’m sure students are lining up outside my door to argue their grades.”

You snort. “I’m surprised they haven’t already broken my door down.”

A knock on your door—almost on cue—and Chan grins. You make a face and call out for whoever it is to enter. Instead of a student, in walks a wispy-looking boy in office attire and a huge stack of papers in his arms. You recognize him from the Department of Examinations. He sits at their front desk. Your eyebrows furrow.

“Everything okay?”

He nods and greets both you and Chan, eyes directed to your colleague. “I was looking for you at your office. You weren’t there.”

Chan nods. “Sorry, I’m heading there right now.”

The boy brushes it off, placing the stack of papers on your desk. You look at the pink pattern and filled bubbles on the sheet, recognizing what it is: the Multiple Choice portion from the final exam. Your mind swims with questions.

“It’s okay. I need to speak to both of you anyway, so let’s just do it here,” he says. Both of you wait for him to continue.

“The scanner isn’t working. For the MCQ sheets,” he explains, pointing to the stack of paper. “So we have no way of marking these.”

“What?” Chan looks flabbergasted. You feel the same. “So the result didn’t get published?”

The boy shakes his head. “Can’t publish the result when the papers aren’t even marked.”

“Okay…” You’re still confused. “So now what?”

“So now we need to get the machine fixed,” he replies. “Which will take over two weeks. And we can’t delay this result for so long…”

Chan’s jaw drops. You stare at him, still not understanding what’s happening.

“You’re kidding,” Chan’s voice is flat. The boy shakes his head sheepishly.

“About what?” you ask, leaning forward in your seat. The boy sighs painfully.

“You have to mark these by hand,” he states. “By tomorrow.”

You gape at him. “For two hundred and sixty students?!”

Nothing but silence. Chan groans and drops back into his chair, head falling back so he can eye the ceiling. He reaches up to run a frustrated hand through his hair, gripping it a bit and looking like he wants to pull it out. You stand up, staring at the boy who looks painfully uncomfortable. No wonder Examinations sent the front desk boy. No one else wanted to break the news.

“We can’t do it in one day!” you exclaim. “And two people only? Do you have someone who can help?”

“Uh…” he fidgets. “The answer key is in there. And we canceled classes for the day…”

Chan groans again, and you hang your head. “This is so unfair…”

“I’m really sorry,” the boy offers, his voice tiny.

“Stick it up your ass, man,” Chan says, his voice holding no venom. He already sounds so tired. You try to bite back a laugh. Not the right moment. The boy gives you both a sheepish nod before hurriedly scurrying from the office. You look at the papers in dismay.

“I hate this fucking place.”

……………………………..

“Number 3… B.”

“Next.”

“Number 4… B.”

“Next.”

“Number 5… B.”

Chan scowls. “How many Bs in a row are there?”

You give him a blank look. “You designed this portion of the exam. You tell me.”

He sighs tiredly and gives you a pleading look. “I don’t have it in me to take your snark right now.”

“I’m not exactly in the mood to rain flowers down on you, Channie.”

He slams down the stack of papers in his hand on the coffee table with a heavy thwack, melting back into the couch until he’s almost lying down on it. “Can we take a break?”

You give him an exasperated look. “This is our first paper!”

“Only two hundred and fifty-nine to go,” he grins, standing up to walk towards the kitchen. “What do you want to drink?”

You lean back into the couch, hoping to disappear into it. “Poison.”

“I have iced tea.”

“Fine.”

Chan’s house is cozy enough. The TV is pretty huge, and the shelf next to it holds a myriad of books, CD boxes, little trinkets. Even a football. You haven’t been here before today, but you quickly make yourself comfortable on the couch before the coffee table. You two decided to leave work early since there were no classes, choosing to reconvene at Chan’s house at his suggestion so you could really buckle down and get this done. So far, there’s no progress. You can’t blame him, though. It’s mind-numbing work, matching numbers and letters to each other.

Chan walks back into the living room with two tall glasses of iced tea. It’s something fruity and citrusy, very enjoyable. When you two begin working again, you manage to get through around fifty papers before Chan is again whining about taking a break. This time, you don’t protest at all, standing up immediately to straighten your back and bring feeling back into your legs.

“My brain is melting,” you sigh, looking down at him. His eyes are closed, glasses slightly askew. He had changed into a hoodie and sweatpants when he got back home, and he had offered some of his clothes to you too. You had accepted gratefully, not at all in the mood to work in suit pants, which is how you ended up in a large sweater and sweats as well. He looks cozy right now, and you half-believe he has fallen asleep, when he blinks his eyes open and gives you a suggestive look.

“You know what would make this tolerable?”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. “What?”

He stands up to rush to the kitchen, peering back in with a bottle of murky brown liquid in his hand. You give him a look.

“Lee Chan, we are not going to start drinking right now.”

“Oh, come on!” He sounds like a child as he whines, ignoring your words in favor of grabbing two glasses and walking back to the couch. “Imagine how much easier this would be if you had a little buzz going.”

“And if we mark them wrong?”

“We aren’t idiots.”

You make a face at his words, watching him pour the drinks. “I’m not so sure about that.”

He holds out the glass to you, giving you the widest brown eyes you had ever seen. You can feel yourself falter. You sigh and take the glass. Chan whoops in celebration.

Turns out, you are two hundred percent right about not wanting to drink.

Within half an hour, you are giggling over something Chan said, the paper in your hands completely ignored as he tells you about the time he almost flashed someone at the gym. He talks animatedly, using grand gestures and dramatic pauses. He is a certified Good Storyteller, something you had discovered very early on in your friendship.

He is just as enthusiastic right now, painting you a detailed picture of everything that happened. His eyes are wide and bright, hair falling into them and making him blink frequently. He makes no move to push it away. In your inebriated state, you reach out to do it for him. He stops talking, blinking at you in surprise.

You feel your face burn hot at your action. What were you thinking? You and Chan clearly don’t have that kind of relationship. While you two loved hanging out, you were for the most part professional. Sure, there were some crude jokes here and there that weren’t exactly HR friendly, but you were both friends too. It didn’t really bother either of you. But physical touch was very clearly crossing a line. And this? Brushing his hair off his forehead?

”I should probably stop drinking.” You try to joke it off, feeling how the tips of your ears burn. Chan shakes his head and laughs a bit.

”It’s okay.”

He keeps looking at you strangely. You catch the exact moment his eyes flit down to your lips. You swallow hard.

“Can I use your restroom?” You manage to choke out. You don’t have a single drop of pee in you, but it’s the only thing that can maybe get you away from Chan’s burning gaze. He nods jerkily, muttering and gesturing down the hall. You immediately stand up and walk away.

You let the water in the sink run as you stand before it, contemplating. You had never thought of Chan in a….. romantic context. Of course, he is ridiculously attractive. Bright eyes, high cheekbones, strong jaw. He is built very nice too, if the bulge of his biceps under the dress shirts he wears is any indication. But you have always written him off as a coworker, and it never occurred to you that Chan was a single, available guy your age.

You shake your head. You need to stop. He is your coworker, the only one you get along with. And you can’t mess this up. Also, HR would eat you alive. You aren’t exactly a fifty year old with tenure. You need this job.

When you sit back down on the couch, Chan gives you a tiny smile before gesturing to the papers, now scattered all over the floor and coffee table before you. You nod.

“Let’s keep going.”

And on continues the mindless drivel, but this time with new thoughts in your head. You sneak glances at Chan as you both mark the papers, and you notice how his jaw ticks every now and then, how his hair is long enough to brush against the back of his neck. His sweatshirt is huge on his frame, but you know how he is built under there. When he fiddles with the pen in his hand, your eyes linger on his fingers. You fidget.

Screw this.

Chan pauses when he feels you shift, turning his head. You see his eyes widen when you lean into him, planting your lips on his for a brief second. You pull away, enough to breathe and get a look at him. Your heart is in your throat. Everything is dead silent.

Then Chan is moving forward, lips meeting yours again.

His hands fly up to your face, cupping your jaw and the back of your head. You can feel how eager he is, his tongue peeking out to lick at your bottom lip before it is sliding into your mouth. Your stomach tightens. You sigh into him. Chan inhales sharply.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He groans. He is rising on his knee, crowding you against your end of the couch. His energy surprises you, pleasantly so, and you can already feel the heat pooling between your legs. This is new. You hadn’t expected this at all. The onslaught of sensations is too much and you can barely process his words.

You lean against the arm of the couch, letting him lead you until you're trapped under him, his weight held up with one hand next to your head. His other hand grips at your waist, sliding down your thigh and nudging it open so he can slip his hips between your legs. Every action is smooth as hell. He clearly knows what he is doing. The thought sends a zip down your spine. You clench around nothing.

When his lips finally part from yours, he doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath. He nips at your jaw, moving down to your neck. His hands are tugging on your shirt, and you put your arms up so he can pull it off you. You aren’t far behind, doing the same to him. He takes his glasses off, followed by his hoodie, and then he is shirtless before you in all his glory. You eye his chest, how surprisingly toned he is, lean and slightly buff around the shoulders and arms.

“Very unfair that you kept all this hidden from me.” You tease. Chan chuckles and pulls away from your neck enough to peer down at you.

“You wanna talk about unfair? I’ve been wanting to get in your pants since you first started. I really didn’t think I would ever get the chance.”

You can feel your heart swell. You find him adorable, despite the fact that he is between your legs and has a very obvious erection poking at your thigh. You smirk at him.

“Well, you’re here now, big boy. What’re you gonna do about it?”

His gaze heats up at your words, and then he is kissing you again, even more passionately than before. He shifts his hips enough to press directly into your core, grinding hard against you until you are keening under him. You buck up in response, and Chan’s hands scramble with the waistband of your pants before he is tugging them and your underwear off in one motion. He doesn’t slow down, unlinking your lips in favor of kissing and licking down your naked body. He noses at your stomach, biting into it a bit to make you yelp. You can feel his smirk against your skin. His hand hooks under your knee, pulling it up and apart to rest on his shoulder. Your breath hitches, shivering in anticipation.

His lips plant kisses over your labia, biting gently on the skin before his tongue pokes out. His licks are tiny but precise, lapping into your slit and finding your throbbing clit almost immediately. He wraps his lips over it and gives a hard suck, making your jaw drop as you moan loudly, eyes falling shut at the sensation. Your hand flies into his unruly hair, tugging slightly. He hums his approval into your pussy, only making you pull harder when the vibrations send you into a frenzy.

“Wanted this-” he mumbles into your clit, “for so long.”

You keen at the words. You aren’t used to this. You’ve had your share of experiences, but no one has ever wanted you this bad. No one has looked up at you from between your legs, eyes hazy, nearly crossed, cheeks flushed, lapping at you so hungrily you fear he will cry if you pull away. Already, you can feel your high building, the fastest it has ever done so.

”Channie, you’re gonna make me come.” You gasp out, planting the heel of your foot on his bare back and pushing him forward into you. He doubles down on his efforts, filthy wet noises coming from your core as he licks and sucks at you. You hurtle head first into an orgasm, sobbing and shaking through it. Chan doesn’t stop for one second, greedily lapping up every last drop that comes out of you. It’s only when you pull at his hair that he finally surfaces, the lower half of his face completely wet and shiny. You flush at the sight, watching him lick his lips. He reaches up to wipe at his chin with his index finger, before sticking that into his mouth as well. You almost come again.

“You’re filthy.”

He grins, moving up your body. “And you’re the one who just let me eat you out.”

You kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue, tugging at his pants until he is shimmying them off, his cock springing up. It looks painfully hard, flushed a deep maroon, and already leaking precum. You want him in your mouth badly, but even more so in your pussy, so you shelf the desire for another time, spreading your legs wider and letting him run the tip up your slit. You let him play with you for a bit, enjoying the sensation, before you grow impatient and grip his arm, looking up at him with half lidded eyes.

“No more teasing, Channie.” You whine. He curses under his breath, jerking his hips forward, tip entering you and then continuing, going further and further until his balls hit your vulva. You moan at how full you feel, how he rubs up against a delicious spot inside you, just where you need him the most.

Chan’s arms shake as he holds himself up. He is breathing heavily, interspersed with little groans.

”I’m gonna bust so quick.” He manages to grit out. You giggle breathlessly.

He is quick to set a fast pace, leaning his weight on his elbows and anchoring himself enough to drive hard into you. Your eyes roll, clenching hard around him as he pumps fiercely into you, hardly letting you take any air in. Your nails dig into his biceps, trying to find purchase. Your legs are already trembling, weak under his actions, and you are sensitive enough from your first orgasm to feel your second one build up already.

“You feel so good.” Chan gasps. And he doesn’t stop there. He rambles on and on.

”You’re so tight, god. I’ve imagined this for so long. You’re so perfect. You take me so well. Like you were made for my cock. Weren’t you? Say it.”

“I was made for your cock.” You babble, half out of your mind with lust. Chan has you nearly bent in half, hips meeting yours over and over fervently, and before you know it, you are stiffening up again, gasping and crying through another orgasm. Chan only speeds up, his voice going higher in octave until he is lurching forward, grinding hard into you, releasing ropes of cum inside you. You flush at the feeling, trying to catch your breath. He collapses on top of you.

You stare at the ceiling for a bit, hands reaching up to brush gently over Chan’s sweaty back. He shivers. You crack a small smile.

“That was….. something.”

Chan sighs into your neck. “That was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You bark out a laugh at his words. Typical Chan. So dramatic. You can feel his cheeks stretch with a smile at the sound of your giggles. You settle in again, continuing to stroke his back. Neither of you make any effort to move.

“You’re buying me dinner.” You say. Chan laughs and nods eagerly.

[bonercoaster]

Fuckin the attitude out ya

Hey there! It's been a while since I last posted, life has been very wild. Long-story-short: moving is hard, school is hard, and life is hard, but I am alive and still writing. Here's some Frank Castle smut because why not?

WARNINGS: smut, a lil fluff, brat reader, brat tamer joel, cnc, there is a safeword and reader doesn’t want to use it because she wants it, vaginal sex, holding reader down

Frank grabs both of your wrists and holds them down with one of his massive hands while you try to squirm away from him. He’s too strong for you to break away. Frank looks you in the eye for a couple of seconds, menacingly, you know he is giving you a chance to say your safe word, but you just narrow your eyes at him trying to send as much malice his way as possible. His other hand grabs one of your knees pushing them to the side before he.........

“Nope!”, “FUCK no.”, “Absolutely not!”, “You must be outta yer damn mind sweetheart.” 

You’ve been at it for an hour, arguing with Frank about somehow taking an apprenticeship with Micro. You told Frank that it’s because Micro is one of the best, and although this may be true, the real reason is so you could keep tabs on your lover who is always somehow in perilous danger. You’re great with technology, discrete and very careful. But every time you think of another way to convince him, he just shoots you down. He’s at the kitchen table cleaning his guns while you pace back and forth offering reason after reason. 

“But baby I-” You start to plead again. 

“No.” Frank, stares you down. “I don’ give a rats ass what kind of bullshit reason you give me or how reasonable you think it sounds, you’re not gonna be involving yourself with this garbage.” 

“Frank! I’m miserable at my stupid job, and I just want a chance to learn from the best and make a difference. Is that so bad?” 

Pretending to consider and tossing his head side to side, with a faux impressed frown, Frank then says matter of factly– “Yes.” 

“UGH! You’re so infuriating, Jesus, Frank would it kill you to trust me a little?” You raise your voice at him in anger and walk away, slamming your office door and starting your work remotely for the day. 

_____ 

A couple of hours later, you hear a knock at your office door. “Come in!” 

Frank enters your office with a bag of chinese takeout and places it at the side of your desk. “Y’eat yet today, doll?” 

“Not hungry.” You glare at him, and continue typing away at your computer.

“C’mon it’s already 6 o’ clock, ya gotta eat something baby.” Frank pleads, making his deep raspy voice soft. 

“I don’t want your fucking food, Frank!” You say, raising your voice and rolling your eyes at him. He hates it when you roll your eyes at him, and you know that. You turn around and stare at your computer screen. 

You hear Frank take a slow deep breath before feeling his hands pull your office chair away from the desk to face him. “What are you doi-FRANK!” You exclaim, as he picks you up out of the chair and slings you over his shoulder easily. You kick your feet, trying to squirm free but his grip is solid. 

Frank wordlessly walks out of your office, into the bedroom, and tosses you onto the bed. 

“Fuckin the attitude out ya” Frank grunts, answering your question as he expertly disrobes the both of you in no time at all. You have a safeword for these kinds of situations, but you don’t want to use it. Instead you pound at his chest and try pushing him away from you, to no avail. Frank grabs both of your wrists and holds them down with one of his massive hands while you try to squirm away from him. He’s too strong for you to break away. Frank looks you in the eye for a couple of seconds, menacingly, you know he is giving you a chance to say your safe word, but you just narrow your eyes at him trying to send as much malice his way as possible. His other hand grabs one of your knees pushing them to the side before he sinks himself into you immediately. Frank lets out a low grunt, eyes all over you while you fight not to close your own from the pleasure. He notices your struggle, but you refuse to give in. 

“You’re real wet f’me already sweetheart”  he growls into your ear, starting to move slowly, teasing you, torturing you.

Frank isn’t shy about being loud. He grunts and growls, moans and sighs. When he starts nibbling at your neck, it all becomes too much and you can’t help but let out a small whine. 

“Atta girl” Frank teases, pounding into you harder and faster, giving you no time to adjust to his new pace. Still holding your hands above your head, he whispers in your ear “Now if I let these go are y’ gonna behave baby?” You can't help but melt at the way he said that. It’s too much, you can’t keep resisting how good this feels, you mewl, nodding your head for him, and he releases your hands which immediately reach for his body, grasping anywhere you can hold him. Still thrusting into you, Frank bends over pressing his lips against yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth. You greedily suck on his tongue, one hand in his hair scratching his scalp. Frank’s thrusts become irregular, he’s close and so are you. Frank breaks away from the kiss, then taking both of your legs and placing them over his shoulders, you didn’t think it would be possible but he starts pounding into you even faster, setting a punishing pace that makes your legs shake and your eyes roll back. It comes in waves, pleasure overtakes your whole body and Frank cums inside of you shortly after. 

Frank crawls up the bed, pulling you with him to cuddle into his chest, softly saying “I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you.” You wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest, and you squeeze him tight. “I know. I’m sorry. I love you.” 

[fazedlight]

Shadow (post-canon fluff)

“So what can we expect from tomorrow’s gala?” the newscaster asked.

Lena smiled, stopping herself from shifting nervously in the bright lights above her, glancing instead to the news studio’s camera as she spoke. “The gala is a black-tie fundraiser event for the Lena Luthor Foundation’s first project - an outreach program aimed at teaching STEM concepts to inner city children.”

“Fascinating,” the newscaster said, “And how will this education program work?”

“The children will be taught basic computer science concepts, and also have access to learn to code robots to compete in an obstacle course competition,” Lena said, eyes shifting back to the newscaster as she spoke, attempting to look as conversational and relaxed as possible. God, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, she thought to herself. “By giving the children real-world instruction, we hope they will be excited to see what one can really do with engineering and science.”

“And will your new girlfriend be attending the gala?”

As much as Lena had no problem staying composed, she could never quite master keeping the blush out of her cheeks. Not when it came to Kara. “She will be attending as well,” Lena confirmed, “Kara is a strong believer in a science education, having grown up with a strong tradition of scientific exploration on Krypton.”

“I imagine she’s an exception to the black tie rules,” the newscaster said.

“Of course,” Lena grinned, “We think the city is ready to know the real Supergirl.”

“Do you think your brother would be proud?”

The smile stuck to Lena’s face - no one but her closest friends would know that anything was amiss from her expression. But the question was certainly charged. While Earth Prime Lex had been known as a philanthropist, his quest for power had come out during the trial - somehow lauded by the public - only for him to attack the world and disappear into the phantom zone, leaving a confused public behind.

I guess I’ll never really escape him, Lena thought tiredly. In Stryker’s or dead or stuck in the phantom zone - none of it mattered. It seemed that Lex would always linger over her. “My brother’s legacy is complex,” Lena said, somewhat frustrated that she couldn’t be more direct on Earth Prime about who her brother really was. “I hope to honor the Luthor name, whatever that would’ve meant to him.” “Well, some very lucky children are about to have a fantastic summer,” the newscaster said back. “Thank you for joining us today, Lena.” “It was a pleasure,” Lena said.

---

Lying in the cool darkness of her bedroom - the setting sun hardly penetrating the windows anymore - Lena dozed quietly, relieved that the day was done.

Light footsteps padded down the hallway, causing a warm feeling in Lena’s chest. Kara’s home, she thought, and she was greeted only moments later by the kryptonian slipping into bed beside her, hugging around her back. “There’s Belly Burger in the kitchen,” Kara murmured, nuzzling softly into Lena’s hair. 

“Thank you,” Lena said back, “I needed that.”

“Rough day?”

“Not particularly. Just… him.”

Lena could feel Kara’s head on the pillow behind her, the kryptonian holding her quietly, giving Lena the space to think. “I think it’s more exhausting here,” Lena said eventually, “Lex, on this Earth.”

“Because they think he was a hero?”

“They don’t understand how someone who could work so closely with you,” Lena said, slowly rolling over on the bed to look at Kara directly, “Could turn around and try to kill you. At least on Earth 38, his first response to Superman was to build a kryptonite suit. People knew where things stood. I didn’t have to dance around.”

Kara hugged Lena more tightly. “I’m sorry, Lena,” she said.

Lena sighed, planting a small kiss on Kara’s lips. “I’ll be fine. I just wish I could get away from it sometimes.”

Kara’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, as she reached up to caress Lena’s face. Lena could almost see the thoughts dance behind her eyes, before she smiled softly. “What is it?” Lena asked.

“I…” Kara trailed off for a moment. “I was wondering, if you would like to visit Argo soon? Maybe after the gala? They’ve barely heard of Lex up there.”

Lena’s eyes shifted between Kara’s, small relief flowing through her body. “That sounds perfect.”

---

“Why do you think your brother started hating aliens?”

“Ms. Danv- er, Supergirl- what does Cat Grant think of ethics in journalism?”

“Your brother was a great man - what do you think caused him to snap?”

Lena sighed in relief as the dancing began, happy to have an excuse to lead Kara to the dance floor instead of continuing conversation with the various donors and reporters roaming about. At least the flashing cameras were less intrusive.

Kara, for her part, seemed almost curious at the extra attention. “This’ll take some getting used to,” she murmured playfully, lightly twirling Lena in her arms and setting off another flurry of photo flashes.

“They’ll calm down eventually,” Lena said, “There are only so many Super and a Luthor headlines that people will read.”

“Ready for our trip tomorrow?” Kara asked.

“More than ready.”

---

Alura hugged her warmly when they arrived. “It’s nice to get away,” Lena said, following Alura and Kara from J’onn’s ship to the El home.

She was somewhat disbelieving that she was really sitting in a kryptonian kitchen, on the remnants of an alien planet. With Zor-El off on an overnight deployment to oversee routine maintenance to Argo’s shield, the three of them spent Lena’s first night on Argo sipping on hot chocolate that Kara had brought from Earth. 

Lena found Alura was easy to open up to. “It’s just tiring, being in Lex’s shadow,” Lena said. “For once I wish I could be seen on my own terms.”

Lena thought she noticed Alura glance to Kara, but the thought didn’t linger as Alura looked back to Lena again. “Kara and Kal have told me of the feud,” she said sympathetically.

“It’ll be nice getting away from his name for a while,” Lena confessed. “I can just be Lena, instead of Lex’s little sister.”

“We’ll be going to the markets tomorrow,” Kara said, glancing from Lena to Alura. “I want to show Lena the town square.”

“I’m sure she’ll like it,” Alura said, exchanging what Lena was certain was a look with Kara. What’s that about?, she wondered, but Alura quickly moved on. “Is it strange not being a super here?” Alura asked Kara.

Kara smiled. “I’m home again.”

Lena took in Kara’s expression, the ease in her body. They talked about it from time to time - what it meant for Kara to have powers she constantly needed to control. Though she didn’t need to balance two identities anymore, there would always be the physical fatigue of controlling her powers on Earth.

Lena smiled. At least they’d have Argo as a refuge - where Lena wasn’t defined as Lex’s little sister, and Kara wasn’t defined by being a super.

---

Kara seemed oddly nervous that morning as they dressed. Lena was excited - to understand a little more of Kara’s home, to see a new culture - but she couldn’t quite understand her girlfriend’s nerves. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it,” Lena said curiously. “You don’t need to worry.”

Kara smiled back, reaching out to take Lena’s hand as they exited her parents’ home. The markets took place twice a week, in the large central park that now served as Argo’s main gathering place. But it seemed Kara wasn’t going directly to the center of the large field, instead detouring to the east. “Where are we going?” Lena asked.

“I want to show you Argo’s heroes first.”

Lena tilted her head curiously, following the kryptonian. The expanse around the city was laid out in a series of ringed parks, and they rotated clockwise along the various paths, Kara pointing out different statues that honored the important historical figures of Krypton.

As they passed a playground, heading beyond the fourth ring of trees, Lena found herself looking at another statue ahead, with another bright and cheery view of the city’s skyscrapers in the background.

But what caught Lena’s eye this time as they approached the statue wasn’t the beautiful sights, but instead the familiar face staring back at her - proud and noble, holding glowing purple stone. What is this?, Lena thought.

They approached the statue - a small smile crossing Kara’s lips - and Lena’s eyes darted around it, eventually reading the plaque spelling her own name, with a string of kryptonian beneath. Lena could feel the blush crawling up her cheeks at her own confusion, her heart racing in disbelief. “Me?” Lena said softly. “They think I’m a hero?”

“You gave Argo the harun-el,” Kara said. “Every year, the Luthor Festival celebrates the day my mother returned with the recipe.”

The Luthor festival is about me, Lena thought, placing a hand at the base of the statue, realizing that tears were starting to threaten her vision. But she didn’t care. This… this is about me. What I did.

Kara smiled, squeezing Lena’s other hand, seeming to read her thoughts. “You saved all of them, Lena,” Kara said, as Lena’s heart raced, “To my people, the Luthor name is defined by you.”

Lena smiled widely, tears still threatening to spill as she turned into a waiting Kara’s arms, who squeezed her tightly. Lena’s arms wrapped around Kara in return, as she let out a choked laugh, placing her head on Kara’s shoulder as she melted into her. “Thank you for showing me this,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

---------------------------------

This headcanon was first mentioned in Echoes of the Forest, but I felt I wanted to write a ficlet for it. Please also check out this beautiful art I commissioned from @heeeygracie!

[flowerandblood]

hiatus

I thought I might be able to write something now, but my priorities have changed so much that I feel like I need to focus on my new book publication now, my husband's PhD, and the fact that we're going to be parents in June. I haven't felt this good in a long time: my inspiration has left me when it comes to writing stories, but it's come back in my professional life, which is very important to me. My husband and I are closer than ever, so I want to focus on my real life to the fullest: I already regret that when I had a difficult time I waited so long to tell him what was going on inside me, instead sitting in front of the computer and writing, pushing him away so as not to burden him with my sadness.

Writing has given me two things: wonderful, devoted readers and the feeling that I can write an interesting story, and I will always be eternally grateful for that. I'm not going to delete this blog and I'm not saying that I'm disappearing forever or that I'll never write anything again: I just don't know when or if I will. I know you will understand this, as always, because I have managed to surround myself with very warm and kind people.

Tumblr also has a dark side for me though, and there is something in it that currently repels me every time I log in here. Some time ago I came to the conclusion that what I read here (I am not talking about stories, but text posts) makes me uncomfortable and often does not even stand close to "openness, equality and all other human values" as some people think.

I think that at some point in my time here I was a bad person, especially when I was involved in various dramas or when I got angry about things that, from my current perspective, were absurd: I allowed myself to be manipulated, but I also willingly distracted myself from the fact that I felt useless to my husband, myself and the whole world.

I found my happiness (a real one) only when I told my husband about everything that was going on inside me, and he offered me the support and understanding I needed. It happened before our vacation in Romania and, what a surprise, when all the stress went away and I finally rested by his side, after a month I was already pregnant with the child I had so longed for.

Every once in a while I'll probably let you know what's up and how I'm doing: I probably won't be in private messages anymore, but that doesn't mean that if you write to me, I'll never write back. Thank you for letting me go through the hardest period of my life with you.

See you soon!

[maerossi]

resources for learning Japanese

I'm just making this post because someone asked me! This is stuff I've used and liked; it's not comprehensive by any means. For every resource I enjoy, I know a bunch of Japanese learners who managed to reach a high level of proficiency without using it.

First:

The person who messaged me mentioned motivation. I'm gonna play devil's advocate for a quick sec, so bear with me. Japanese, for native speakers of English who do not know any languages similar to Japanese, is really time-consuming to learn. I am teaching Japanese to a student rn, and I just had a conference with their parents in which I straightforwardly said: In the time it takes your child to learn Japanese, they could probably have learned Spanish, French, how to sail, and a bit of carpentry instead. I'm personally learning Japanese for a lot of different reasons: I want to live in a country where I can afford health care and rent; I love Japanese literature and feel intellectually stilted without access to it; lots of my homies speak Japanese; etc. But there are real trade-offs, and I have sometimes wondered what my life would be if I'd gotten super into Dutch or computer programming or moss instead. It's worth thinking about whether the investment is worth it for you, and taking the time to write out why you're doing this.

The Resources

Grammar

A very nice guy named Tae Kim wrote a perfectly good textbook on basic Japanese grammar that he shares with folks for free (https://guidetojapanese.org/learn/grammar).

Bunpro.jp: Bunpro is THE BEST!!!!! Really thorough, logical grammar explanations; they routinely clarify stuff for me that I've never fully understood before. In addition to explaining the grammar, they have tons of example sentences, most of which have audio tracks with recordings made by professional Japanese voice actors. AND you can add the grammar points you're learning to a flashcard desk and practice that way. Bunpro doesn't just improve grammar, but it really improves your speaking and writing skills as well imo; something about the way the flashcards force me to think really works on my active language skills.

GameGengo is a super cool YouTube channel where one guy explains grammar points while showing you tons of examples from real video games. https://www.youtube.com/@GameGengo

JapaneseAmmoWithMisa is another great YouTube channel where a native speaker explains a lot of stuff that I otherwise don't encounter in textbooks.

Kanji

I like WaniKani and think it's been the best thing for me in terms of knowing how to read kanji combinations that are kind of "weird," unusual, rare, etc. However, it took me a long time to realize that WaniKani really focuses on passive reading skills and not writing at all, so I do recommend practicing writing on your own.

I didn't own a kanji dictionary for years, but I've found them pretty necessary since I started focusing on my writing. Both of the above are equally good imo (the left is probably more readily available in Japan; the right is cheaper in the US). They both put the kanji in a logical sequence, from common to uncommon, and then have useful lists of frequent kanji combinations, tell you the stroke order, etc.

Listening

I really like FluentU, which shows you clips from native materials like movies, shows, commercials, interviews, etc., and then teaches you the vocab you heard, quizzes you on it, and shows you the video again so that you can see how much more you can understand. It's a little expensive to use, though (DO wait for their sales, which happen frequently), and you can definitely find a lot of free stuff to listen to online.

I love JFF Theatre, which has recently released movies from Japan, completely free to watch:

They used to only be allowed to stream movies for one month every year, and now they stream different stuff year-round, which is really cool. They usually have about 6 different movies at a time.

Textbooks

The Shin Kanzen Master textbook series, which is based on JLPT levels, is known for being pretty hard but is also v useful, especially if you're trying to pass the JLPT. The vocab textbooks are cool when you're N2 and above because they teach you tons of nuance between synonyms of words.

Misc

You can follow cool Japanese learners on Tumblr like @tokidokitokyo, @corvid-language-library, and @epivanosilon (and tons of other cool folks!!)

There's a fun monthly book club on Discord that's probably good for N2+ folks: https://www.tumblr.com/tokidokitokyo/785027373105020929/seitokais-june-english-book-club

Ruby Gagotoku on Instagram and Substack makes amazing posts on learning Japanese (she is N1+ in terms of reading), and she's really inspiring to me because she taught herself to read Japanese books while never having actually been to Japan. If you follow her, you can definitely find a lot of resources, communities online, and homies to learn with: https://www.instagram.com/rubygagotoku, https://rubygagotoku.substack.com/

Literally yesterday I found the KuLA app (くずし字学習支援アプリKuLA), which teaches you the basics of how to read kuzushiji (pre-modern Japanese script) in a cute way. I love how the little bug-sensei starts off so optimistic but then freaks out when explaining how hard it is to read pre-modern texts lol:

And remember: There's no shame in learning Spanish, French, sailing, and carpentry instead of this beast of a language that has uprooted my life multiple times and has made me go through probably 40,000 flashcards in the last decade lollllll ganbatte

[karvokr]

unscripted

it was all for show– until it wasn’t. now the lines are blurred, the feelings are real, and no one remembers who’s cast in what role.

pairings: actor!gojo x actress!reader x actor!geto content warnings: mdni, smut and angst, unprotected piv sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), infidelity/cheating themes, love triangle, fake dating/pr relationship, secret relationship, they did NOT rehearse their lines << episode two • series masterlist • episode four >>

S1, E3: blocking

The hotel is all glass and gold and silence.

You and Satoru stand side by side at the reception desk while the concierge frowns at the computer like it might blink first. There’s only one room available. One bed. A mix-up with the tour itinerary, someone says. A miscommunication. Management will handle it in the morning.

You want to say no. You want to ask for anything else.

But you’re tired. And Suguru is in Paris.

The last few days have been a blur– early flights, late train rides, tightly scheduled interviews. City after city. Smile after smile. The official world premiere is still a month away, and movies don’t get promoted from your apartment in LA.

The press tour has you constantly bracketed by the same two men: your fake boyfriend, and the one you can’t stop thinking about kissing.

The tabloids eat it up. Call it chemistry. Say you and Suguru look perfect together– elegant, they wrote. Effortless. Like lovers pulled from film noir and repackaged for the modern age. You wore the roles well. He held your waist in photos like he meant it. You whispered in each other’s ears on red carpets. The illusion was seamless.

But it was Satoru you caught watching when he thought you wouldn’t notice. Satoru– who kept a careful distance, except when his fingers brushed yours by accident under dinner tables and lingered just a second too long. Who laughed at the right moments, but never quite met your eyes. Who always seemed to excuse himself when Suguru touched the small of your back, like the room suddenly needed more air than it had.

He didn’t say anything. Not about the first screening. Not about the kiss. But his silence said everything.

And maybe that’s why you let things with Suguru keep moving.

It wasn’t intentional– it was just easy. Natural. A shoulder against yours in the back seat of a car. His hand resting on your knee while the cameras flashed through the window. Late-night drinks that turned into room service and movies you never finished. The sort of closeness that felt earned, not stolen. 

The quiet moments became routine. You settled into a life with him at your side– him pouring drinks for you both after an interview, how he lets your head rest on his shoulder on car rides. When he tells you you’re beautiful before red carpets and not after. Orders your favorite meals before you even know you’re hungry.

You haven’t talked about what it means. You haven’t defined anything. But you’re sharing a bed more often than not. Waking up together. You share meals. Jokes. Silences that feel comfortable instead of heavy. Sometimes he reads lines with you for an audition and kisses you when you get them right. Sometimes he falls asleep with his hand resting on your hip like it’s always belonged there.

Sometimes you catch yourself smiling without realizing it. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how Satoru’s mouth felt– hot and insistent and wrong in the way that made your whole body ache.

But then you catch his eyes across a room– just for a second– and it all comes back.

The silence. The tension. The guilt. The gravity.

Because Suguru looks at you like he’s already yours. And Satoru sees it.

And he doesn’t say a word. Not to you. Not to anyone.

He just sits further from you now in cars. Slips out of post-interview dinners early. He still jokes, still teases– but it doesn’t reach the same places. He watches the way Suguru touches you like it hurts to look, and then turns away like it hurts worse not to.

And when your eyes meet– accidentally, like always– he’s already looking away.

Like if he doesn’t acknowledge it, it might disappear. Like if he keeps quiet long enough, he won’t have to admit how much it’s already taken root.

Like now, like here. In Vienna. In a room that’s closing in. With a bed that’s too small for lies and make-believe. You both stay quiet. The air between you is stiff with everything you’re not saying.

The suite is nice. Clean. Modern. Cold.

You kick your shoes off and say, too fast, “You take the bed.”

Satoru’s voice is low. “You think I’m gonna let you sleep on the floor?”

You don’t answer. 

He walks past you, slow and deliberate, and drops his bag at the edge of the mattress. He doesn’t look at you when he says, “We can share.”

You cross your arms. “This feels like a trap.”

That makes him laugh– short, humorless. “I’m well aware you don’t want me.”

“Satoru. Really?”

“You stopped me.”

You don’t say anything. Just stare at the sliver of city light bleeding through the curtains, like Vienna might give you an out. Your mouth opens. Then closes. The room feels too quiet again, too big and too small all at once.

“I stopped us,” you say finally. “There’s a difference.”

He doesn’t answer. But the look he gives you says he doesn’t believe that. Or worse– he does. And it just hurts more.

Satoru sinks onto the edge of the bed, elbows braced against his knees, rubbing a hand down his face like the weight of this has finally caught up to him.

“So what is this?” he asks, quiet now. No anger. Just exhaustion. “What are we doing?”

You lower yourself onto the opposite edge of the bed, like maybe the distance between your bodies will soften the blow. “I don’t know.”

His voice sharpens. “You don’t know if you meant it? Or you don’t know if you regret it?”

You swallow. “Both.”

He exhales hard. Lets it hang in the air. “Do you love him?”

You flinch. “Satoru.”

“Just answer.”

The words catch in your throat. You hate the question– how easy it is to ask, how impossible it is to answer. You hate how much space it opens up inside you, how many versions of the truth live in the silence. Your mouth opens again, but nothing comes out.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” you whisper.

“Of course you don’t.”

He stands. Shrugs off his shirt in one fluid motion. Walks toward the bathroom without another word– like he’s not leaving you gutted on the mattress.

The door closes behind him. And you’re alone with everything you can’t admit.

The sheets are too crisp. The air is too stuffy. You can still feel him in the space where he stood– heat fading like he took the air with him. You want to move. You want to scream. You want to rewind time back to before he asked that question, before his voice dropped into that quiet ache you’ve only heard a handful of times.

You lie back on the bed, stare up at the ceiling like it might hold the answers. You count your breaths. You try not to think about how much easier it is to want Satoru when Suguru isn’t in the room. But you do.

You think about his mouth. His voice. The way he kissed you like he couldn’t help it, like he knew he shouldn’t.

You think about how scared he looked afterward. Not of you. Of himself.

The bathroom light is still on. You see the glow under the door, hear the soft hum of water running. You wonder if he’s trying to calm down. You wonder if he’s breaking apart in there– quietly, the way he does everything when it matters too much.

You almost call his name. But you don’t.

Not until the water shuts off. Not until the light clicks out. Not until the door opens, and he steps back into the room, hair damp, jaw tight, like nothing’s changed.

He walks past you. Doesn’t look at you. Pulls back the covers on his side and slides in without a word.

You lie there for a long time, your backs to each other, staring into opposite darks.

Eventually, in the quiet, you say it– too soft to be anything but real. “Satoru. I never said I didn’t want you.”

You hear the breath catch in his throat. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.

The silence comes back again. Heavy. Honest.

And when you finally fall asleep, it’s with your hand curled near the space between you– so close you almost feel him reaching back.

You wake slowly the next morning. The room is still dim– only a pale wash of morning light filtering in through the curtains. You don’t open your eyes right away. You’re warm. Grounded. Pressed against something solid behind you.

It takes a few seconds to realize it’s him.

Satoru’s body is curved around yours, chest to your back, legs tangled, breath steady and slow at your nape. One of his arms is draped over your waist. His hand is splayed low– too low. Just above your underwear.

His fingers are relaxed, but the weight of his palm rests heavy against your pelvis. His pinky brushes the waistband. Not intentional. Not quite. But close enough to make you pulse between your thighs. Close enough that it makes your breath catch.

And that’s when you feel it. The hard press of him against your lower back. Thick. Insistent. Undeniable.

You stay still. Not sure if he’s asleep. Not sure if you are. Every nerve in your body goes sharp. Your breath shallows. You want to shift– should shift– but when you do, just a little, his hand tightens.

Not hard. Just firm. Anchoring.

You still again. His breath changes– just slightly. “You looked at me like you didn’t want me.”

Your throat goes tight. “I never said I didn’t.”

His nose brushes your neck. Then his lips. Barely-there pressure. The ghost of a kiss. “Why do you keep pretending you don’t, then?”

His hand drifts lower. Slow. Testing. He cups you over your underwear, fingers curling slightly, enough to make your hips shift back into him on instinct. He groans– quiet and broken– and presses closer, grinding softly into the curve of your ass.

“You’re soaked,” he murmurs, like he’s surprised, like it hurts. “You want this, don’t you?”

You nod and gasp when he begins to circle your clit– slow, deliberate. His fingers are warm and careful, teasing you before slipping beneath, dragging through your folds like he already knows exactly how you like it. He kisses the hinge of your jaw, then behind your ear– soft, wet, grounding.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, low and breathless. “Let me make you feel good.”

You roll onto your back, thighs parting slightly to make room for his hand. He stays on his side, propped on one elbow, body pressed close. His chest brushes your shoulder. His other hand curls beside your head in the sheets, steadying himself.

Your eyes meet in the dim light.

His fingers sink into you slowly– one, then two, curling deep. The stretch makes your breath catch in your throat. You arch into the touch without thinking, gasping softly as his thumb finds your clit again, circling slow and tight.

Your hips lift to meet the rhythm, and he moves closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

That’s when you feel it– the heat of him, thick and hard, grinding against the side of your thigh. Still in his briefs, the fabric damp with precum, rubbing slow and filthy into your skin with every stuttered breath he takes.

“Satoru,” you whisper, voice caught between warning and want.

His mouth brushes yours but doesn’t kiss you yet. “Fuck,” he groans. “You feel– I’ve wanted this–”

He cuts himself off with a sharp exhale as his cock drags along your leg again, his hips rolling with a little more desperation.

His fingers thrust deeper, slick and steady. Your thighs tremble. Your hands clutch at the sheets– then his arm– then his hair. Your body starts chasing it without hesitation now, wet and shameless against his palm.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper against his mouth, but it comes out too soft. Too broken.

He kisses you then– slow, deep, wrecked.

“I know,” he breathes. “But I need you anyway.”

Your orgasm crests fast– tight and sharp, dragged out of you by the way his fingers curl just right, the way he grinds harder into your thigh as you get closer. When it hits, you moan into his mouth, clutching him as your whole body arches, clenching around his fingers while his cock twitches through the thin barrier of his briefs.

He doesn’t stop. Not his mouth, not his hand, not his slow, filthy rutting against your skin like he’s addicted to the feel of you. Like this is all he’s allowed.

And when it’s over– when you’re gasping through the aftershocks, boneless and trembling beneath his touch, and his briefs are damp with the evidence of how hard he came grinding against your thigh– he leans in and presses one more kiss to your cheek.

Quiet. Careful. Like he knows it might be the last.

He doesn't pull away immediately. You lie there together, caught in the softness that always follows something too intense, too good, too not supposed to happen. His hand slips from between your thighs, wet with you, and he presses it to your hip instead. Grounding. Like he still needs to feel you to believe it happened.

You turn your face toward him. He’s already watching you. For a moment, there’s nothing to say. Just breath. Just warmth. Just the scent of skin and the quiet stick of sweat and the way his lashes kiss his cheekbone when he blinks slow.

He leans in again. Kisses you softly this time. Lazy. Barely parted lips. His tongue slides against yours in a slow sweep that tastes like exhaustion and want.

You kiss him back. You don’t mean to. But you do.

It stretches. Long. Lingering. Your fingers find the edge of his jaw and stay there. His thumb traces the underside of your breast through the sheet, more out of instinct than intent now. And neither of you moves to say anything about what it means.

Eventually, you shift. Reality pulling at the edge of the moment like a thread coming undone.

You sit up first. Pull your underwear back into place, smooth your shirt, pretend it helps.

Satoru rolls onto his back, one arm over his eyes. “He’ll be downstairs soon,” he says quietly.

You nod. You already know.

By the time you’ve showered and pulled yourself back together, the version of yourself you need to be feels… distant. But reachable. You’ve worn the mask before.

When the elevator opens to the lobby, Suguru’s already waiting.

He’s leaning against the concierge counter, phone in hand, coat folded neatly over one arm, looking far too good for someone who’s supposedly running on three hours of sleep. His smile is instant– easy, like it’s just for you.

“Hey,” he says, eyes soft. “Missed your face.”

You’re not ready for it. Not the way his hand finds your waist. Not the way he kisses you softly– quickly– without hesitation, the way his mouth lingers like he missed you. Not the way his arm settles around you so easily, like you’ve always belonged there.

And what surprises you most isn’t the guilt. It’s that you’re genuinely happy to see him. 

Your body responds to his presence like it always does– warm, safe, familiar. He smells like something crisp and expensive, and you lean into him a little more than you mean to.

“Good night?” he asks, teasing.

You nod. “Yeah. I slept fine.”

Satoru steps off the elevator behind you. His expression is unreadable. Neutral. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t look at you.

And Suguru doesn’t notice a thing. Because he’s too busy smiling at you like he means it. And you’re too busy wondering how you’re ever supposed to be good enough to deserve it.

The afternoon is all cameras and curated light.

You’re seated on a velvet couch, legs crossed at the ankle, back straight despite the way your stomach twists every time Satoru shifts beside you. He’s too close. Not close enough. His knee brushes yours every time he leans forward to answer a question, and you can feel the heat of his palm resting on the couch next to your leg like a threat. Or maybe a promise.

The press junket is standard– some online entertainment outlet you've done six times before. Suguru sits at the far end of the couch, charming and poised, answering with just the right amount of warmth. He gestures with his hands when he talks, always deliberate. Occasionally, his hand lands on your thigh when he praises your performance. He says things like her instincts are just incredible, and I learn something from her every time we do a scene together, and we really just… trust each other.

Satoru nods beside you. Smiles. Plays along. He even makes a joke once– about how he's just lucky to be third wheeling the most emotionally competent couple in cinema. The reporter laughs. Suguru laughs. You manage a smile.

But when the next question comes– some soft toss about the chemistry between your characters– Satoru cuts in first.

“She’s easy to fall in love with,” he says. And he says it like it’s just about the script.

Your breath catches. You look at him. He’s still facing forward. Still smiling. But his voice has the kind of edge that only you can hear, the kind that’s not in the script.

Suguru chuckles, says, “tell me about it,” and pats your thigh softly with his hand, his thumb running up and down. It’s sweet. It’s harmless.

But Satoru’s knee presses into yours again– just slightly, intentionally this time– and it’s the only thing you can feel.

You get through three more interviews like that. Smiles stretched too thin. Every compliment from Suguru is a reminder. Every glance from Satoru feels like a loaded gun pressed against your ribs.

No one notices. The publicist doesn’t notice. The interviewer doesn’t notice. Suguru doesn’t notice. Or maybe he does, but he trusts you too much to look for cracks.

Every time Satoru moves his hand behind your back to gesture– every time his breath grazes your temple when he leans in to whisper some sarcastic aside that only you can hear– you remember the night and morning before in vivid flashes. The elevator. The bed. The way he touched you like he knew how. Like he always had known.

You shift your weight, pretending to adjust your skirt, trying not to shake.

When the final interview wraps, Suguru stands and stretches. “Coffee before the fan panel?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice steady. “Sounds good.”

Satoru says nothing. Just rises with a sigh, stuffing his hands in his pockets like the weight of the day’s pretense is finally settling in.

He doesn’t look at you. Not directly. But his fingers graze your lower back again as you exit, slow enough to mean something. 

The day wraps up in a blur of fan questions and camera flashes, the energy of the panel carrying you through on autopilot. You laugh when you’re supposed to. Smile when Suguru tells a funny story about the first time he read through the script. You sit between them like it means nothing, like this morning hasn’t rewritten something in your chest.

By the time you’re on the train to Munich, the adrenaline has burned off, and you’re left with nothing but quiet and the ache of pretending.

The hotel is nicer this time. A sleek business-class spot in the city center with beige corridors and frosted-glass elevators. No long hallways. No dramatic tension. Just one night and a room you’re used to sharing.

“Night,” Satoru says as he dips into the one next door, his smile easy. You think it’s for Suguru more than you.

Suguru holds the door open like always. Hand steady on the knob. His eyes catch yours when you pass him.

It’s quiet, once inside. You kick off your shoes and peel off your jacket while he flicks on the light by the desk.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low.

You nod, but it’s not convincing.

Suguru doesn’t push. He never does. He just disappears into the bathroom and reappears ten minutes later with damp hair and a loose tee hanging off his frame like it was made for someone taller. He always looks soft like this. Barefoot. At ease. You brush your teeth beside him, not speaking– not needing to. It’s domestic in a way that always feels dangerous.

When you return to the room, he’s already tugged the sheets down on his side of the bed. He doesn’t ask what you’re thinking. Just watches you crawl in next to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It is. And that might be the problem.

The TV plays some German reality show neither of you understand. His arm is warm against yours. You don’t know when you stopped paying attention.

“I’m not tired,” you murmur.

Suguru doesn’t respond right away. Then, quietly, “I know.”

You shift to look at him.

He’s already watching you. His expression is unreadable– steady and calm, but something simmers beneath it. It always does.

You don’t say anything. Just let your gaze drop to his mouth.

And he kisses you like he’s waited a long time for you to want him first.

It’s not urgent. Not rushed. His hand slides to your cheek, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw as his lips part against yours. You sigh into it, let yourself be drawn into him, inch by inch.

You think about Satoru. About what you did. About what you didn’t do.

And then you stop thinking entirely, because Suguru is kissing you deeper now, his body shifting closer, one hand finding your waist beneath the hem of your shirt.

You feel like you’re floating.

When he pulls back, just slightly, his breath is warm against your lips. “Still not tired?”

You shake your head.

He kisses you again. Softer. Lower.

Your shirt rides up as his hand slides along your stomach. You let it. Let him touch you like he’s memorizing it– each inch of skin, every small noise he draws out of you. His eyes never leave yours. Not even when he drags the fabric over your head and kisses along the slope of your collarbone.

“You can stop me,” he says. “If you want to.”

You answer by pulling him closer.

The sheets rustle as he settles over you, gentle but sure, like he knows exactly how to take his time. His mouth traces heat across your chest, tongue flicking slow, unhurried. You arch into him without meaning to, breath catching.

“Suguru–”

He hushes you with a kiss, his hands everywhere all at once. He’s careful, almost too soft with you. Like he’s holding back.

You drag your nails lightly down his back and whisper, “I want you.”

His eyes flicker. And then he’s moving– removing the rest of your clothes with methodical grace, like he’s afraid to break the moment. Like you’ll disappear if he rushes.

His fingers trail over the newly exposed skin with a commitment that steals your breath. Across your ribs, down your stomach, along the inside of your thighs– each touch is a quiet confession. He doesn’t speak, but it’s in the way he looks at you, gaze heavy-lidded and full of something you don’t want to name.

The air in the room feels thicker now, heat curling between your bodies. When he leans down again, his hair brushes your collarbone, and his mouth finds the soft curve of your breast like he’s been dreaming of this. His tongue is slow, purposeful. You gasp, threading your fingers through his hair as he lavishes each sensitive inch with aching tenderness.

Your hips shift beneath him. Needy. Restless. But he doesn’t rush. He mouths at the hollow of your stomach, hands grabbing your thighs, grounding you with each press of his palms. And then he kisses the inside of your knee like it means something. Like you mean something.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs against your skin.

You are. You hadn’t realized.

“It’s okay,” he says, lifting his head. His voice is low and warm, his expression impossibly gentle. “I’ve got you.”

His hands part your thighs slowly, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soft circles. And when he finally touches you, it’s barely there– a featherlight graze of his fingers that makes you gasp, your body arching into his hand.

He watches the way you react, eyes dark with something that looks suspiciously like awe. He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t smirk. He just rubs you with slow, patient precision, learning you. Mapping every hitch in your breath, every twitch of your hips.

And when he slips a finger inside, then two– curling just right, pressing deep– you feel like your whole body bows around the sensation. His name slips past your lips, breathy and desperate, and he leans down to kiss you like it’s an answer.

When you cum, it’s slow and molten, the tension unraveling in soft waves that make your whole body tremble. He doesn’t stop touching you until you’re squirming from the sensitivity, burying your face in his shoulder to muffle the broken sounds slipping from your throat.

You’re still catching your breath when he pulls back just enough to look at you, thumb brushing along your cheek.

“You’re sure?” he asks again, voice rough.

There’s no hesitation this time.

“Yes,” you whisper. “I need you.”

And the way he looks at you right then– like he’s in love, like he’s thankful, like it’s killing him not to touch you more– makes something ache deep in your chest.

He lines himself up with shaking hands, kisses you once more, and then sinks into you. Slow. Deep. Careful. His eyes flutter shut and his mouth parts in a soft, strangled moan, like the feeling of you is too much. You cling to him, nails digging into his back as you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer.

And when he starts to move– measured, like he wants to draw every moment out until it’s etched into his memory– you let him.

You let him have you. All of you. Every breath. Every tremble. Every broken little sound that spills from your lips when he grinds deeper.

“God, you feel perfect,” he whispers, voice rough and frayed at the edges. “So fucking perfect.”

His hips roll slowly into yours, deep enough that your whole body arches, your fingers scrambling for purchase on his shoulders. He catches one of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his and pressing them into the pillow above your head.

“Look at me,” he murmurs. “Wanna see you.”

You do. Eyes hazy, lips parted, throat tight with the pressure building low in your stomach.

His other hand strokes down your side, soothing, anchoring, until it hooks beneath your thigh and pulls it higher around his waist. The angle makes you gasp, and Suguru groans like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever heard.

“That’s it,” he says, voice low and full of praise. “Just let me take care of you. Taking it so well, baby.”

You shiver under him, toes curling, and he leans down to kiss you again– slower now, dragging his tongue against yours like he wants to devour you gently. Like this is what he’s craved for far too long.

“Been thinking about this,” he confesses between kisses, his rhythm deepening just slightly. “About how you’d sound. How you’d feel. What it’d be like to finally be inside you.” His grip tightens just a little around your hand. “It’s better than I imagined.”

You whimper, chest stuttering with each thrust as he keeps you pinned beneath him– sweet and steady and overwhelming.

“You’re mine right now,” he whispers, kissing along your jaw, voice going tender– almost like he knows. “No one else. Just you and me. Say it.”

“Yours,” you manage, barely a whisper. “I’m yours.”

His rhythm stutters, hips pressing flush to yours like he’s trying to sink in even further. Like the words broke something inside him. He kisses you again, slower this time, like gratitude. Like he’s trying to tell you all the things he’s never said out loud.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmurs, brushing sweat-damp hair from your forehead. “Let go for me. I’ve got you– I’ve got you.”

And when you do– when your whole body locks and trembles around him, vision going white at the edges– he holds you through it, whispering your name.

His rhythm falters, hips rolling deeper, slower– like he's trying to hold onto the moment just a little longer. Like he’s unraveling from the inside out. You feel it in the way he groans into your neck, in the way his body begins to tremble against yours.

He presses his forehead to yours, voice low and wrecked. “Where?” he breathes. “Tell me where you want me.”

Your breath catches, heart stuttering at the way he asks– not rough, not demanding. Just… gentle. Needing. Like he wants to give you whatever you’ll let him. You cup his cheek, your thumb brushing along his jaw as your gaze meets his.

“Inside– please,” you whisper, barely more than breath.

His eyes flutter shut like that undoes him. Like your words reach some part of him he’s kept buried for too long.

“Okay,” he says, voice cracking as he kisses you. “Okay, baby.”

And then he’s giving in, hips pressing deep one last time as his release hits him hard– groaning against your mouth as he spills into you, warm and shuddering. You hold him through it, arms wrapped around his back, legs still locked around his waist, like you can anchor him there.

“God– fuck,” he gasps, voice trembling. “Wanted you– for so long.”

His body finally stills, chest rising and falling against yours, and for a long time, neither of you moves. You’re still joined. Still wrapped around each other. And when he finally speaks again, his voice is quiet. “I love you.”

Your breath catches. The words hit you square in the chest, sharp and tender all at once. You feel them before you can process them– before you can speak.

You know you do. God, you do.

But the words lodge in your throat, thick with fear. It feels too fragile. Too soon. Not because it isn’t true, but because it is– and that’s what terrifies you.

You don’t say anything. And still, he doesn’t ask you to. He just presses a kiss to your temple, then another to your neck, as if to tell you it’s okay. That he meant it anyway. That some part of him knows you love him too.

You’re not sure who pulls the other closer. Only that you end up tangled and bare, legs still entwined, his hand resting against your lower back. There's sweat drying on your skin, the rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear, and the kind of silence that feels less like an ending and more like a beginning.

The next morning, the light filters in through half-drawn curtains, too clean, too honest. You wake to Suguru still asleep beside you, arm slung across your stomach, lips slightly parted. His skin is warm. His breathing steady. His fingers twitch once, like even in sleep, he’s still reaching for you.

It would be perfect– quiet, grounding– if not for the way the memories come rushing back the moment your eyes fully open.

The room next door. The paper-thin walls. The way your voice had risen without warning– breathless, gasping, loud.

And Satoru, just on the other side of it all.

Your stomach turns. The warmth of Suguru’s body is still pressed to yours, but your thoughts are already somewhere else entirely. 

You sit up slowly, pulling the sheet to your chest. Suguru stirs behind you, sleep-rough and warm. “You okay?”

You nod. “Just gonna shower.”

He kisses your shoulder before letting you go.

You’re brushing your teeth when you hear it: the hotel room one door down the hall clicks open. You freeze. Then a knock on your door.

You open it a crack. Satoru stands there. Hoodie. Sunglasses. No smile.

“Morning,” he says. Voice light. Too light. “Thought we were getting breakfast?”

Your stomach drops. “Right. Yeah. Give me two minutes.”

His gaze doesn’t move from your face. “No rush. I figured you might be… a little tired.” There’s an edge to it, sharp and knowing, hidden beneath the usual brightness.

He turns before you can respond, hands in his pockets as he walks away.

You and Suguru join him in the hotel lobby ten minutes later. Suguru’s hand brushes yours out of habit. He doesn’t notice how your fingers curl away.

Satoru greets you both with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sleep well?”

Suguru nods. “Like a rock.”

You force a smile, heartbeat pounding.

Satoru sips his coffee slowly, then looks straight at you. “Crazy how clear everything carries in these hotels, huh?” His head tilts, just a little. “You’d think the walls were made of paper.”

Your blood runs cold. Suguru’s too focused on flagging down the waitress to catch it.

You meet Satoru’s gaze, and for once– just once– he doesn’t look away.

Just raises an eyebrow, then smiles. But it doesn’t feel like a joke. It feels like a warning.

one bed trope for the win :p

comment to be added to the taglist: @twilightsumu @aizzon @jabulile @jadeisthirsting @1satoruu @nombakugoswife1 @feelya @goonforgeto @bandomonia

[nymph-ette111]

Do you write about Ben Drowned? (Adult version yk)

I would like to ask for romantic headcannons of him with Fem!Reader :D (It can be SFW or NSFW or both, as you like)

That's it! Ily <3

AUTHOR'S NOTE; been a hot minute since I wrote for BEN :) really enjoyed writing this one! The fanart of this guy is fucking scrumptious.

WARNINGS; MANY SUGGESTIVE THINGS/MENTIONS OF SEX/MENTIONS OF GORE/MENTIONS OF GETTING STONED AND HIGH

-He prefers possessing electronics instead of taking a physical form, which means endless torment for you.

-On your phone, your computer, anywhere that has a screen or speaker, he's there. And he'll let you know he's there. Whether it be obnoxious moaning sounds to piss you off or straight up gore pictures to jump-scare you.

-At one point it becomes way too much and you have to seriously sit him down and tell him directly that flashing pictures of real human intestines and mutilated bodies is NOT a good way to get your attention.

-He has a fucked up sense of humor and a degradation kink so it's not going to work out for you because he's not even focused on what you're saying during the entirety of your lecture.

-BEN's logic is "she's telling me to stop but I'm not going to because I find it funny" so he always ends up taking things too far because he thinks you're enjoying it as much as he is.

-I think the best way to get the message across is to give him the silent treatment, that's how he'll know that you're actually being serious.

-He'll give you space, wouldn't want to risk anything but you can tell he's still there—lurking around, waiting for you to call for him and he'd be by your side immediately. Pouting like a kicked puppy.

-Does he learn from this experience? Nope! Give him a couple of months and the questionable videos are reappearing... Just weird content, at least it's not gore anymore.

-Avid 4chan user I will DIE on this hill.

-Has doxxed people on there countless of times. Ragebait master.

-Zero dating experience, you're his first everything. The personality and knowledge of a teenage boy (before anyone starts I see BEN as an ageless entity NOT a twelve year old)

-That being said, you have to teach him a lot. Both dating and in bed.

-All of his sex knowledge is taken from cheap pornos on questionable sites. Like actually, tell me this guy finds his porn on the dark web and I wouldn't even question it.

-Made an entire post about this a while back but DO NOT PLAY VIDEO GAMES WITH HIM, HE IS NOT FAIR! WILL HIJACK YOUR DEVICE TO MESS YOU UP!

-It hurts me to say this but I don't sense a big dick here... just cannot imagine this guy with a monster in between his legs but we'll say so just for the fantasy ¯⁠\⁠(⁠°⁠_⁠o⁠)⁠/⁠¯

-Back to my previous point of him being inexperienced, he's all perverted remarks and fantasies but the second you do something as simple as brushing your hand over his thigh or something he's immediately short circuiting. You can tell because the glitching becomes more apparent and consistent.

-Also talk about fantasies... Yeah inexperienced BUT LORD HAVE MERCY! any kink you have 99% chance that he's into that too. Has rubbed it to a couple of questionable things before.

-The only thing he wouldn't actually do is things that involve piss or vomit, age play... but that's about it. Anything else and he's down for it.

-Has tried getting you to dress up as his favorite fictional girls, up for you to decide whether you want to play into that or decline.

-If you're looking for some dirt to dig on any of the creeps then... you're dating the perfect person. Manages to find the most INSANE information so easily. It's kind of bad for you too because, yes, he will find your most embarrassing childhood pictures that a family member posted on Facebook. May or may not print it out and tape it all over the mansion for shits and giggles.

-He's kind of the lolcow of the mansion. That being said, his powers and skills are often overlooked and dismissed by the other creeps until they need him for something and then he's back to being underestimated. Tell him that he matters, he won't realize how much he needs it until you say it.

-Has a digital shrine dedicated to you. Is ashamed you wouldn't match his freak so the shrine is a secret, for now.

-Any attention from you equals good attention. Loves pissing you off (as long as it's not serious and you're not actually mad at him)

-Lazy stoner boyfriend detected!

-Isn't a romantic date type of guy—wine, lit candles, nicely prepared dinner, rose petals leading to the bed... Nope. Prefers being comfortable because the former makes him feel like he's preforming. What's better than lazily chilling on the bed with your hot girlfriend, a shitty show on that nobody is paying attention to, and being so high you enter a completely different dimension?

-Disgusting perv but I think it's very clear by now lol

[inadaydream99]

The Office Dynamics

A/N - I had so much fun writing these! Each of these are inspired by characters and scenes from The Office

Disclaimer: this does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only!

Chan

The Late-Night Desk Conversations

While chan has to stay late every night to keep on top of his copious amounts of work, you choose to stay. Not because you’re so dedicated to your role, but because it’s an excuse to hang out with him. And so, it’s become part of your daily routine to be the only two left at work after hours.

As expected, it’s just the two of you once again, the glow of your computer screens and the sound of the rain tapping against the office windows. You break the steady silence with a yawn, stretching dramatically, which makes Chan glance your way. “Need a bedtime story?”

You smirk. “What, like The Tragic Life of an Overworked Employee?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re hilarious. Remind me why I put up with you?”

You grin. “Because if I weren’t here, you’d have no one to make fun of your disastrous caffeine addiction.”

It’s moments like this that make your heart flutter. It’s just so quiet, easy, and comfortable.

There are times when you can tell he wants to go, but he always lingers by your desk a little longer, as though he’s waiting for something… maybe he’s hoping you’ll ask him to stay… like right now. There he is, loitering. And you weigh the thought for a second as it crosses your mind.

Your fingers hover over your keyboard, pretending to still be focused on your work. But the words aren’t making sense anymore, and neither is the way your heart beats just a little faster when Chan doesn’t immediately grab his things to leave.

Instead, he stretches again, arms reaching over his head, his sweater riding up just slightly before he lets out a soft sigh. “Alright,” he says, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you, eyes flickering with something teasing yet unreadable. “Tell me, how much more suffering do we have left?”

You glance at the document in front of you, but really, you’re stalling. “Depends,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Are we talking about tonight’s workload or the existential kind?”

Chan chuckles, shaking his head. “Both, obviously.”

You exhale dramatically, tapping your pen against your desk. “Well, tonight’s suffering is about… thirty more minutes if we really focus.” You pause, then add, “Existential suffering? Probably lifelong.”

He lets out a low laugh, and the sound does something dangerous to you.

“See, this is why I like being around you,” he muses. “You make my impending burnout entertaining.”

You smirk. “Happy to help.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, broken only by the rain outside and the occasional clatter of keys. Chan, now sat back in his chair and not making any real move to leave, spins his pen between his fingers before finally speaking again.

“You know,” he starts, quieter this time, “you don’t actually have to stay late every night.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone.

“Says the guy who practically has his name engraved on this desk?” you counter, trying to keep it light.

He smiles, but there’s something softer in it now. “I mean it. You could go home. Get some sleep. Not stress over this job like you do. I’d still be here.”

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? You could go home. You could leave him to his late-night habits, his empty office, his half-drunk cups of coffee and his relentless need to be the last one standing. But you don’t. You never do.

Maybe he knows that. Maybe that’s why he stays by your desk longer than he needs to.

You could say something. Ask him why he always waits until you’re done before packing up. Ask him why he notices your yawns, your stretches, the way your fingers slow on the keyboard when you start getting tired. Ask him why he lingers.

But instead, you just smile.

“Yeah,” you say, looking back at your screen. “I know.”

Minho

The Post-It Note Pranks

Your daily routine with Minho consists of endless banter, stolen glances, and… a Post-it note war. A little unusual, yes, but it’s been happening for so long that neither of you can remember how it started… only that you’re both incredibly competitive and stubborn.

Today’s round begins when you stick a note to his monitor: Try to look less busy today.

It doesn’t take him long to retaliate with one on your keyboard: Try to do actual work today.

And so the war escalates. You retaliate with a note on his stapler: I licked this.

So Minho counters with one on your favourite coffee mug: I spit in this. (He didn’t. Probably. Hopefully.)

The next morning you arrive to find a hundred yellow notes covering your desk, each reading: I win.

You huff, turning to the culprit. “Minho-”

But then, from the corner of your eye, you spot a pink one hidden under your keyboard. Sheepishly picking it up, you read: By the way, you look really pretty when you’re annoyed.

Well, that made your heart skip an unexpected beat.

You continue to stare at the note, your heart pounding a little too fast for your liking. Then your eyes flitter to find Minho, still watching you, with his chin propped on his hand and that infuriatingly smug smirk on his lips. He quirks a brow, waiting for your reaction.

Feeling irritation at his clear attempt to fluster you into submission, you grasp a pen and scribble a reply before closing off the few steps to his desk and sticking the note right onto his forehead.

He blinks up at you, momentarily stunned, before peeling it off to read: That’s cheating.

But he simply chuckles, the sound low and amused, and you’re too aware of how close you’re standing. His eyes flick from the note back to you, and for a second, the office noise—keyboards clicking, printers whirring, distant voices—fades into the background.

Then he leans forward slightly, just enough to make your breath hitch, and murmurs, “You’re just mad because you liked it.”

You scoff, crossing your arms even as heat creeps up your neck. “In your dreams.”

He hums, twirling the note between his fingers. “Maybe.”

Before you can fire back, he casually sticks another Post-it onto your wrist. You glance down, expecting another teasing jab.

Instead, it’s just a simple message: Lunch?

You hesitate for only a second before rolling your eyes and scribbling your response. When you slap the note onto his desk, he barely has time to grab it before you’re already walking away.

He flips it over and grins.

Try to keep up.

Changbin

The “Fake Dating” Bet

You and Changbin are always fake-flirting in the office. It started as a joke - dramatic declarations of love, exaggerated winks, calling each other “babe” just to get reactions.

But then your pesky colleague Jisung bets that neither of you can keep it up for a full week without actually catching feelings.

You and Changbin just share a smug side glance. Challenge accepted.

Day one and you’re already getting alarmingly used to it: Changbin leans against your desk, smirking. “Morning, darling. Did you miss me?”

You roll your eyes. “Tragically, yes. My heart aches without you.”

The problem? You do miss him. You do feel your heart race when he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. And by day two, when he casually pulls you into a side hug and murmurs, “You know… we’re really good at this,” you wonder - what if we weren’t faking?

Day Three: You’re officially losing it.

Changbin’s hand finds the small of your back as he guides you through the office, and instead of rolling your eyes or making a joke, you nearly lean into it. When he calls you babe in that lazy, affectionate tone, your stomach does an embarrassing summersault.

Jisung is watching. He’s always watching, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he observes every lingering glance, every subtle touch. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to.

“You’re getting soft,” you murmur to Changbin when you’re alone in the break room. You mean it as a tease, but it comes out quieter, more uncertain than you intended.

Changbin raises a brow, stepping closer. “Am I?”

He’s so close. The air between you crackles with something that wasn’t there before—except, maybe it was, and you were just too busy pretending to notice. Although, you don’t step away. And neither does he.

Day Four: You’re so screwed.

You tell yourself you’re overthinking it. That this is just the nature of the bet. That Changbin isn’t actually looking at you differently, and your heart isn’t racing faster than usual when he throws an arm over your shoulders and keeps it there, fingers idly tracing patterns.

Then, after a long day, you find yourself walking out together. It’s dark, the city buzzing with life, and Changbin hesitates before speaking.

“You know this is the last day, right?” His voice is softer than usual, like he’s testing the weight of the words.

You nod. You’ve been thinking about it all day. Tomorrow, the bet is over. And then what?

Before you’re able to spiral, Changbin reaches for your hand. Not dramatically, not for show—just a gentle brush of his fingers against yours, hesitant but hopeful.

“We don’t have to stop,” he murmurs.

You should laugh it off. Call his bluff. Make a joke about it. But instead, you allow his fingers to thread through yours.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I know.”

Hyunjin

The Office ‘Secret Handshake’

You and Hyunjin have a dumb, overly complicated handshake that started as an inside joke but has now become a thing that everyone knows about and finds incredibly annoying.

It’s all dramatic finger snaps, spins, and an unnecessary over-the-head high-five at the end. Everyone rolls their eyes when you do it, but neither of you care.

Until one day, during a particularly boring meeting, when you glance at Hyunjin from across the conference table. Without a word, you start subtly miming the first move under the table.

Hyunjin bites his lip to hold back a laugh before mirroring your movements. You both manage to get through the whole sequence without breaking eye contact, even as Chan - your long-suffering team leader - sighs, “I know you two are doing that stupid handshake.”

After the meeting, Hyunjin nudges you, grinning. “Maybe we should make it our thing for real.”

Your heart skips. But before you can question him on it, he sends you a wink and strolls away.

You stand frozen in the hallway for a second, replaying Hyunjin’s words in your head. What does he even mean? The handshake is already your thing. It’s dumb, ridiculous, and completely unnecessary—but it’s yours. Unless…

Your thoughts short-circuit for a second, the thought coming into your mind and destroying your rationality.

By the time you’re able to shake yourself out of it, Hyunjin has long disappeared, but you can still hear his whistling from down the hall - sounding so casual for someone who’s just wrecked your entire brain.

And it’s not until mid-afternoon when you see him again.

Acting on impulse, you grab onto his sleeve just as he passes you in the break rooms entrance. “Okay, what did you mean earlier?” You try (but miserably fail) to sound casual.

Hyunjin just looks at you with a slow, knowing grin spreading across his lips. “What does what mean?”

You narrow your eyes, knowing that he’s acting sheepish because he thinks it’s funny. “You know.”

He tilts his head, pretending to think, then suddenly steps closer. The break room is luckily empty, but still, the space between you feels too small. “Are you asking if I meant us?”

Your breath hitches, the air becoming so thick you feel like you’re about to suffocate. He watches you for a moment, his confident stare burning into you - trying to read every emotion and thought that flickers behind your eyes. “Because I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t mean it.”

Your brain short-circuits again.

There’s no way he isn’t enjoying this - he has that glint in his eye, the one he gets when he’s teasing but also dead serious. And the worst part? You can’t even think of a good response because you want more, too.

Before you can properly process it, Hyunjin reaches for your hand and, with a dramatic flourish, initiates the first move of your handshake. Automatically, your fingers snap into place, muscle memory taking over. The spin, the sync, the final over-the-head high-five - it’s all the same. Except now, as your hands linger just a second too long at the end, Hyunjin’s gaze doesn’t waver.

“So?” his voice is softer now. “Our thing?”

Your heart pounds, but you can’t fight your grin.

“Yeah,” you smile, lacing your fingers through his before he can pull away. “Our thing.”

Jisung

The Office Supply Heist

Jisung has a bad habit of stealing things from your desk - pens, sticky notes, even your stress ball. Every time you call him out, he plays dumb. “What? Maybe you’re just bad at keeping track of your stuff.”

But you’ve finally had enough. So you set a trap. Leaving a small notebook and pen on your desk, you write on the first page I know what you’re doing - so when he flips it open he’ll see.

Sure enough, Jisung swipes it within the hour.

When he flips the notebook open and sees the message, he bursts out laughing. “Okay, maybe I take your stuff. But only ‘cause it’s yours.”

You cross your arms. “That’s the worst excuse ever.”

Jisung shrugs, twirling your stolen pen between his fingers. “Or… it’s the best one.”

You roll your eyes, but secretly? You kind of love it. Nonetheless, you scoff, shaking your head as he continues twirling the pen like some kind of smug magician. “So what, you steal my stuff just for fun?”

He smirks. “It’s more entertaining than ordering office supplies like a normal person.”

You narrow your eyes. “You do realize the company provides free stationary, right? There’s literally a whole cabinet full of it.”

Jisung tilts his head, pretending to consider this. “But those don’t have the same charm. Yours are just… better.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he counters, grinning. “It’s like stealing fries off someone’s plate. They just taste better.”

“That is not the same thing!”

Jisung just shrugs, tapping the pen against his chin. “Agree to disagree?”

You shoot him a glare before holding out your hand expectantly. “Give it back.”

He hesitates, twirling the pen one last time between his fingers. “Hmm. Nah.”

“Jisung.”

“What?” He leans back in his chair, completely unfazed. “They’ve got sentimental value now.”

You stare at him, deadpan. “They’ve been in your possession for thirty seconds.”

“Yeah, and in those thirty seconds, they’ve become my favorite stationary.”

You lunge forward in an attempt to snatch the pen first, but Jisung is faster, jerking his hand away just in time. Laughing, he tucks the pen into his pocket before grabbing the notebook and standing up. “Tell you what - if you want them back, you’ll just have to come steal them from me.”

Before you can argue, he winks and strolls off toward the break room, leaving you sitting there, half-annoyed, half-amused. You sigh, shaking your head. This is not over.

Felix

The “Accidental” Coffee Dates

Felix always seems to be in the break room at the exact same time as you. Suspiciously so.

“Wow,” you say one morning, entering the break room at the same time you do everyday to retrieve your first cup of coffee. “What are the odds?”

Felix blinks innocently, but his cheeks tinge just the slighted bit pink. “What do you mean?”

“You definitely time your breaks to match mine.”

He grins sheepishly, “Maybe I just happen to also need a beverage at precisely -” he pauses to check his watch, “10:03am?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? So you don’t just come in here to check what mug I’m using so you can steal it from me later? Because somehow they always end up on your desk?”

Felix smirks. “Well, maybe I don’t want a whole coffee and I just like sharing yours.”

Well, that makes your heart stutter.

Felix watches in amusement, waiting for whatever sassy comeback you’re coming up with. He’s never flirted with you so blatantly before, but it’s clear he’s trying to figure out if you’re into him too.

You hesitate, your fingers tightening slightly around your mug. The break room feels smaller somehow, quieter, the usual hum of the coffee machine and the distant chatter of coworkers fading into the background. Felix is still watching you, his smirk softened into something more patient, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll take the bait.

Your mind races through the past few weeks - the way he always seems to find a reason to linger when you walk in, how his “accidental” coffee thefts have become a running joke, the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

Maybe it really was time to stop pretending this was just about caffeine.

You take a slow sip of your coffee, then tilt your head. “So, what you’re saying is… we should just only share one cup from now on?”

Felix grins, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his expression. Surprise, maybe. A little anticipation. “I mean, if that’s what you’re offering.”

You tap your fingers against your mug, considering. “Mmm. I don’t know. Feels like a dangerous precedent.”

“Dangerous?” He leans in slightly, elbows resting on the counter. “How so?”

“Well,” you muse, pretending to think it over, “first it’s coffee. Then maybe it’s lunch. Next thing I know, we’re getting dinner, and suddenly people start thinking it’s a thing.”

Felix hums in amusement, nodding as if this is a very serious concern. “Sounds risky.”

“Very.”

He takes a step back to fully assess you, folding his arms. “And would that be such a bad thing?”

There it is. The shift from playful to real, the challenge hidden beneath his casual tone. He’s putting the question out there, giving you a choice. Your heart instantly kicks into overdrive.

You could brush it off, keep playing the game. Or you could take the leap.

You exhale, setting your cup down on the counter, exactly halfway between you. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Felix’s smile is slow, knowing. Then, he picks up your cup, slowly lifting it to his lips, taking an exaggerated sip before handing it back. “Guess so.”

Your fingers brush as you take it, and just like that, the game changes.

Seungmin

The Mutual Roasting Sessions

Your entire relationship with Seungmin revolves around mercilessly making fun of each other. It’s just how it’s always been between you, so effortless and lighthearted. And you know he’s as addicted to it as much as you are.

For example, yesterday when you walked past his desk, you caught a glance at him scribbling something, working away like a maniac and couldn’t resist: “Seungmin, you literally have the handwriting of a serial killer.”

“At least I write things down. When’s the last time you actually met a deadline?” He’d quipped after you, throwing you a quick glance that revealed just a hint of his smirk.

Okay, you admit, that was fair… you do have a habit of being a little late with deadlines.

But were you about to let him get away with it? Absolutely not. However the next day, you were mid-roast when Seungmin had suddenly leaned in closer, smirking. “You know, if we ever dated, our love language would just be insults.”

Your first response was to let out a snort, followed by an “If we dated?”

Oh, you’d regretted that right away. It’d only taken half a second to notice the way his smirk faltered. But Seungmin had been thrown off by your reaction for just long enough to let slip the flicker of something real behind his eyes.

“Shut up,” he’d muttered, looking away.

Then later that same day, you’d caught him sneaking a glance at you, and suddenly, the teasing didn’t feel so lighthearted anymore.

Which brings you to present day and, for the first time in forever, Seungmin seems off his game. It’s subtle, but you notice it - the way his comebacks aren’t as sharp, the way he hesitates a fraction of a second too long before responding. The way he keeps sneaking glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

If the other day hadn’t happened, you would have found it funny, the King of merciless teasing suddenly being flustered? Hilarious. But now, you can’t help feeling awkward - wishing you’d not made a joke out of him before.

In an attempt to restore your normal dynamic, you try to test the waters. The next time you see him, you make a show of stretching before dropping onto the seat beside him with a sigh. “Man, I don’t know what I’d do without you, Seungmin.”

He raises an eyebrow, suspicious. “Finally admitting I’m the best thing in your life?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you deadpan. “I mean, who else would insult me so consistently? I’d have to pay someone.”

His mouth twitches like he wants to smile but refuses to give you the satisfaction. “That’s true. You’d be lost without me.”

There it is again - that tiny hesitation, the way his gaze flickers to your lips before snapping back up. You should let it go. You should let the moment pass. But you’re insistent.

Instead, you tilt your head, feigning curiosity. “Hey, Seungmin?”

“What?”

You lean in slightly, just enough to close some of the space between you. His breath hitches.

“Were you serious?” you ask, voice quieter now. “About… the dating thing?”

For a second, Seungmin does nothing. Then, he scoffs, but it sounds a little forced. “You think I’d actually want to date you?”

You don’t even flinch. “I think you wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t at least think about it.”

Silence. A long, charged pause where neither of you move. Then-

“Shut up,” he mutters again, looking away.

But this time, when you catch him sneaking another glance at you, he doesn’t look away so fast. This time, he holds your gaze for just a second longer. And this time, you maintain eye contact with him, trying to prove that you’re not as against the idea as you’d initially made out to be.

Jeongin

The ‘Fake Office Enemies’ Game

You and Jeongin pretend to be workplace rivals for fun. You’re not sure how, or why, it started. All you know is that you’re both on the same strange wavelength and just get so much fulfilment from it.

“You got the last blueberry muffin?” you gasp.

Jeongin smirks, taking a slow, deliberate bite. “Should’ve been quicker.”

So you decide to take it up a notch, escalating things by dramatically declaring, “Jeongin is my nemesis!” in front of the entire office.

To your surprise, he steps closer, grinning. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

You hesitate - too aware of how close he suddenly is. His smile is still teasing, but there’s something softer in his eyes. Something almost fond.

“…I’ll get my revenge,” you say weakly.

Jeongin hums, tilting his head. “Looking forward to it.”

The game, it seems, just got a little more complicated.

You tell yourself it’s nothing - just another moment of playful rivalry, the same as always. But as you settle back into your seat, trying to shake the heat lingering on your face, you can feel Jeongin’s eyes still on you.

The rest of the office drones on, people returning to their work or previous discussions, but your mind is elsewhere. You’re too aware of Jeongin sitting just across the room, the way his fingers drum idly against his desk, the occasional amused glance he sends your way like he knows something you don’t.

When lunch finally rolls around, you make a quick escape, heading toward the break room for a moment to collect yourself. You shouldn’t feel this flustered - this has always been a game. A silly, harmless, pretend-rivalry game.

But the way Jeongin had leaned in earlier, the way his voice dropped just slightly, the way his smirk had softened at the edges… It didn’t feel like just a game anymore.

You shake your head, reaching for the coffee pot, only to find it completely empty.

A familiar voice hums from behind you. “Looking for something?”

You turn, already knowing what you’ll see. Jeongin, holding the last fresh cup of coffee in his hands, lifting it to his lips with that signature smirk.

You narrow your eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says innocently, taking a slow sip.

Your hand twitches at your side. “You do realize this means war?”

Jeongin tilts his head, pretending to consider your words. “Hmm. Does it, though?” His gaze flickers down to you, the teasing light still in his eyes, but something else lingers there too. Something almost expectant.

You don’t know why your heart speeds up at that look.

Before you can come up with a witty retort, he steps forward, lowering his voice just enough that you can feel the shift in the air between you. “You’re taking this rivalry thing pretty seriously,” he muses, tapping a finger against the coffee cup. “Almost like you actually care about beating me.”

You scoff, folding your arms. “Of course I do. What kind of nemesis would I be if I didn’t?”

He grins, leaning in just a fraction closer. “Oh? So if I stopped playing along, you’d miss it?”

Your breath catches. It’s a simple question. A playful one, really. But for some reason, you don’t have an answer ready.

Jeongin watches you carefully, the smirk on his lips softening ever so slightly.

For the first time since this game began, you feel like you’re standing at a line. One you hadn’t even realized existed until now. And you have no idea what happens if you cross it.

“…I’d just find someone else to be my office enemy,” you say finally, forcing a casual shrug.

Jeongin clicks his tongue. “Ouch.” But there’s no real offense in his voice, just that same easy amusement, the kind that always makes it hard to tell exactly what he’s thinking.

Then, before you can react, he lifts the coffee cup and presses it into your hands.

Your fingers wrap around the warm ceramic instinctively, blinking up at him in confusion. “What—”

“You can have this one.” He grins. “Consider it a peace offering.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re plotting something.”

“Maybe.” He winks. “But you’ll just have to wait and find out, won’t you?”

And with that, he turns and strolls out of the break room, leaving you standing there, holding the coffee he’d stolen for himself.

Your so-called enemy just let you win. And you don’t know what’s worse, the fact that he did it, or the fact that you kind of liked it.