#I have to resort to real books

[sillyredconverse]

My husband (ao3) is back at war (shields are up) and I am waiting patiently for him to come home

[shadystranger]

the switch from worry for sam to appealing.. oh he knows how to fuck him up so perfectly tailored for him

[rain-after-thunder]

Nooooo!!!!!!!

[newspecies]

i love crowfield abbey but theres this weird dissonance between full fay shit with the unseelie court and a um. biblical angel and demon. god is real. latin prayers have real power that can ward off evil spirits. the fay believe in god???????

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

john green quit tumblr because of the cock monologue

No, he didn’t.

This all happened a long time ago, and my memory is imperfect, but here’s my memory: The cock monologue certainly hurt my feelings! But when people are trying to force someone out of a virtual space, they sometimes resort to behavior that is similar to bullying except it’s not completely identical to bullying because the person they’re making fun of has a lot of power. (As someone who got bullied a lot in school, the feeling was similar in 2014 but it wasn’t identical--because I was aware of the fact that I was okay, that what was in danger was certain aspects of my identity/self-value that I treasured but not my entire personhood itself.)

Anyway, it hurt my feelings, and still hurts my feelings when I see it shared (it feels to me like a joke about my sexuality, although I understand other people don’t see it that way; but yeah, you don’t know much about my sexuality and I don’t really want you to but it feels like a joke about that to me, which just bums me out). 

But all of that stuff is a side effect of my job and having been successful at it, and I like my job. It is a great job. All jobs have aspects that suck. My job has fewer such aspects than other jobs I’ve had.

So yeah, I did not quit tumblr because of the cock monologue. (I also did not ask tumblr to make reblogs un-editable.) .

I quit tumblr because a few people started to make extremely specific threats. One might, for instance, send me an ask that featured a google streetview screenshot of my home alongside a plan for breaking into it.

I was super scared of these people (or possible person pretending to be a few people?) because they seemed to have a lot of knowledge about me and my family. We lived in a normal middle-class neighborhood in Indianapolis and I felt very exposed and nervous all the time in my real life, and eventually the freaked-out feeling just got too big and that’s why I quit tumblr.

(Edited to add: I am aware that prominent people sometimes use death threats against them to portray themselves as victims and protect themselves against justified criticism for their bigotry or abusive behavior or whatever. I don’t want to do that; it’s important to note that I have a lot of resources and power and so was able to, for instance, move to decrease the threat, which a lot of people can’t do. But I also feel like not talking about the experience honestly has not really helped me or anyone.)

I SHOULD’VE quit tumblr much earlier--I needed to realize that people weren’t comfortable with me in their virtual spaces and that to them I came across as cringey or even creepy, but at the time, I wasn’t nearly self-aware enough to leave for any of those reasons, and plus there was a lot of pressure from movie studios etc to stay on the social Internet so I could continue to promote my books and the stuff around them. So I didn’t quit when I should’ve, and as a result had and caused quite a few negative experiences for people. I’m sorry about the role I had in causing those negative experiences. I should’ve had a better understanding of not just how I experienced myself but also how other people might experience me. That’s something i’ve worked on over the years but still come up short on sometimes.

At any rate, I might delete this later because it makes me feel a bit like all my nerves are exposed to the air but I did just want to clarify that the, like, Tumblr Legend of this whole thing is at minimum a bit over simplified. 

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭.

🎀 Traveling from nation to nation and learning the art of creating the most delicious chocolate has been a passion of yours for ages. However, upon stepping foot into the Nation of Flame, you never could have prepared yourself for the incoming wave of sweetness and obsession which was going to hit you like never before.

A/N: This story is loosely inspired by Joanne Harris' book of the same title, Chocolat. It's a book that I am very fond of and I was inspired to write this once I saw that we were able to make chocolate in Natlan, probably the best thing in the game. I am a massive chocolate enjoyer, so... Also, the fic has some minor nsfw implications, just a bit of a heads up! Apologies if Kinich is not in character, oopsie.

yandere! kinich x fem! reader.

Proud warriors, the scorching hot sun and eternal flames were the first things that came to mind whenever you would think about Natlan. As a humble Mondstadter, it never occurred to you just how rich this nation was, how welcoming the people were going to be and not to mention how this place could help you develop your love for chocolate.

Stirring the pot in front of you was no easy task as the decadent scent of delightful goodness enveloped the entire humble little hut which you occupied, the entire floor littered with pots and pans filled to the brim with your creations and some personal trinkets which you had brought for yourself along for the journey.

One of Natlan's great tribes, the Scions of the Canopy, had graciously taken you under their wing and allowed you the privilege of experiencing the culture firsthand. You let out a wistful sigh as the chocolate bubbled happily before you, the dark liquid almost looking too good to be real.

You always took pride in your skills as a chocolatier, even if you hardly considered yourself the best one in the whole entire world. An endless sky of knowledge was out there waiting for you, the voices of the unknown beckoning you to come forward and seize them with your own two hands.

You were a true Mondstadter at heart. No matter where you were or how far you traversed, the wind was always there to guide you, to show you the right path. And right now, the flow of the wind said to stay in Natlan, to finally stop and smell the roses a little.

And each rose you touched had never been as sweet.

The rose, your rose, had a name and merely thinking of him sent your heart ablaze. Messy dark hair, gorgeous dew eyes and skin so perfectly rough and tender at the same time, it made you wonder how he managed to pull off something so contradictory.

That was Kinich's charm, you supposed. Cheeky little thing, he always looked out for you ever since he saw you. Despite his dry humor and straightforward attitude, there was a certain gentle quality to him which made him so irresistible, as if he was temptation personified. Never once did he leave you alone for the entirety of your trip if it could be helped, which came as a shock to his fellow tribe members.

Looking back on it, you were foolish to not see his intentions, even more so for not paying attention to the longing glimmer in his eye and how he would trail after you like a shadow.

He was shy, at first. Unsure on how he should express his feelings, Kinich merely resorted to doing things for you, because he was simply that kind of man. Actions speak louder than words and there was no word in the dictionary which could describe the way in which his chest would tighten in pain whenever he would make eye contact with you, as if large and thorny vines had sprouted from the ground up and taken root in his soul.

You are sweeter than any chocolate you could possibly make, he whispered into your ear one evening.

A shudder came over you, your cheeks hot at the memory of that night... The moon was high and full, overtaking the pitch black sky as Kinich had pinned you to the ground, his gaze boring deeply in your own, those large eyes focused on you and only you...

Chewing your bottom lip, you stirred the pot harshly as the memory replayed in your head over and over - his grip, which was tighter than any rope imaginable, the feeling of melted chocolate which was caked over your lips and fingers, the sensation of Kinich's tongue as he licked away the sweet goodness off your body...

By the seven, this was too much.

With a huff, you turned off the fire which was lit beneath the pot, your hands shaking with excitement as you felt your entire body growing hotter and hotter, making it harder to concentrate.

Damn that Kinich. Damn him for making you feel so wonderful, so wanted, so perfect. The thought of having to leave this place, it... It bordered on anguish. Sometimes, when you were sure no one was around, you would find a dark little corner and weep quietly to yourself. It was hard to manage the massive hiccups and keep the snot away from staining your clothes at first but you managed. Like always, you would find a way to get everything back in order and all would be well once you got everything out of your system.

You had fallen for Natlan. You had fallen even more so than Kinich. Even so, the wind was picking up once more, demanding that you make your next move.

There was so little time left to enjoy everything you had built here. Therefore, your plan was to make the most of everything you possibly could.

And Kinich was more than ready to assist with that.

He hid high up in a tree as he observed you, his face schooled into that of one of his classical nonchalance and stoicism. The chance of him being spotted by anyone up here was slim but even so, he liked to play it safe.

No one needed to know the pain he was in. No one needed to be aware of his more... dubious thoughts and actions. Kinich always fancied himself as a man of action rather than flowery words. And so, he acted.

Quietly, stealthily... Perhaps even a little lethally at times.

Violence was hardly ever the answer but if anyone got in his way and refused to back down, it was his only solution then.

Kinich had a solid reputation in his tribe - he was trustworthy, he was strong. This granted him access to many things, many useful and convenient things. All he had to do was say the word and most people would keep their mouths shut if they saw him somewhere he should not be. And if his poorly veiled threats were not enough, he was more than ready to take up his weapon and fight.

It really was that easy for him.

Sneaking into your newly built home was its own beast though.

This is wrong, he would chant inside his mind over and over again. The intensity of his actions and his nonchalant persona were always at a clash with one another, constantly fighting a never ending war. He should trust you, he knows you are capable, he has no right to be doing any of this even yet... And yet, he does it anyway.

Because he knows that if he doesn't do something, he will never see you again. Kinich knows that he will lose you to the wind if he lets you slip through his fingers, he will never get to experience what it means to be touched, to be loved.

He wants to adore you in the same way people adore your delectable creations. The various statues made from chocolates, the little cacao bites, the endless sea of pralines which would be devoured so fast by the masses that he could not keep up...

Whenever he had the luxury, he liked to imagine you as one of those pralines. Perfect and oh so easy to devour, you were nothing short of excellent in his eyes. Kinich was no blind fool, he was well aware that you had your flaws as well but he cared very little about that.

He wanted the entire package. He wanted you, wrapped up in a little bow and delivered on his doorstep like the world's most precious package, a package which he could unwrap and enjoy time and time over.

Even in his hazy state of mind, he could still recall how you tasted. Licking his lips, Kinich made sure to double check that he had taken a few things from your hut which could prevent you from finishing your latest project. Yes, that was petty of him.

But he could not be bothered to care.

The wind was cruel. Whenever a gust of it would blow at him, Kinich would scowl as he knew that it meant that you would take it as a sign to leave. His hair would get tousled as he would wrap his arms around his body, the constant yapping of Ajaw did him no good either.

The clock was ticking. There was only so much he could do to keep you here. A plan needed to be formed, fast.

For now, he was going to enjoy you in every way he could. He was going to be greedy and devour you wholly whenever the opportunity arose. As Kinich balanced himself up on the massive tree branch, yet another fresh gust of wind made its way towards him. He saw the way you popped your shoulders, that all too familiar smile on your face.

You loved the wind and the wind loved you. You loved to make chocolate and were quite excellent at it too.

Despite all that, Kinich loved you more. He adored you more than the sun adored the world, he wanted you more than unlike anything else before. He cursed the Anemo Archon underneath his breath, his poor lip bloody and bruised from the amount of times he had bitten it in order to keep himself quiet.

Kinch was a man of countless deeds. And he would find a way to keep you by his side, no matter the cost. Be it Celestia or the Abyss, there was no force in this world which could destroy the endless and raging fire he felt for you.

[xinganhao]

👓 svt with a 'nerd' partner.

anon → "can you do one where their partner is a big nerd?"

⌗ ┆debated for the longest time about the differences between nerd/geek/dork, so this is a bit of everything ( `ω´ )۶! (p.s.: love how the hc's turned out for this one >_<)

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: established relationship, pet names, fluff, cussing, headcanons under the cut.

👓 headcanons .ᐟ

you're rambling again. seungcheol watches, entranced, at the way your eyes light up as you talk about your tabletop games. the way your hands move as you explain things. when you notice him staring, you trail off. he immediately snaps out of his quiet awe to reach for your hand across the dining table. "why'd you stop?" he asks in a soft whine, jutting his lower lip out in a mock pout. "you were getting to the good part about the cleric and the rogue. don't leave me hanging, love." (or: seungcheol always pays attention.)

there's a look of mild exasperation on jeonghan's face as he watches you scroll excitedly through his latest fansign photos. you point out all the characters that are familiar to you, and you get just a little too excited when he's borderline cosplaying. he pretends to be annoyed about it, even though the truth is that he'd play dress up all day long to see you smile like this. "really," he huffs all the same, prying his phone out of your hands. "if i knew this was all it would take for you to fall in love with me…" (or: jeonghan indulges you.)

every time he travels, joshua visits a bookshop. not those chain stores, either. he goes for the obscure ones that sells secondhand, well-loved novels. the types that are a little beaten up and worn around the edges. he'll spend hours looking through the shelves for covers that he thinks are pretty, or descriptions that match the genres you always rave about. it's his little joy, to come home after all these international stops with his arms full of books. "these reminded me of you," he'll say as he holds them out to you. (or: joshua remembers you everywhere he goes.)

a bead of sweat trickles down junhui's temple as he battles with yet another stubborn screw. you've long since given up on trying to help him; he wasn't about to let you lift a finger in this endeavor. he grumbles little complaints as he assembles the overpriced IKEA shelf, but all of it is worth it when you start to stack your things on to it with that sweet smile of yours. he knows he ought to stop putting himself in to these situations. he also knows he'll assemble a hundred pieces of furniture if it meant that you could have what you want. (or: junhui enables you.)

soonyoung really couldn't give a damn about the planetarium. he'd much rather have date night at something more exciting. an amusement park. a concept restaurant. but there's just something so special about getting to walk alongside you at a leisurely pace, to have you whisper to him little fun facts about the projected stars and the styrofoam planets. he knows they're only versions of the real thing. it's just… the way you explain them make it seem like they're just right there. he knows he can't really reach for the stars, so he settles for the next best thing. he goes to hold your hand. (or: you remind soonyoung to take it easy.)

mid-game conversations with wonwoo are punctuated mostly with quick jabs, typed out in between lulls. it's a last resort type of thing. most of the time, the two of you are playing with audio. or, better yet, in the same room as each other. there's something liberating in how he doesn't have to reel anything in when it's you, because you know how these matches go. you speak his language, essentially. and whenever he says "one more game?", he knows you're already not too far behind in rejoining the lobby. (or: wonwoo lives to be your player two.)

sometimes, you're so quiet that jihoon forgets you're there. he'll only remember when he tears his gaze away from his computer screen and his eyes land on the studio couch, where you're sprawled out doing whatever your hobby of the month is. it always makes him melt a bit. the way the two of you are just content to co-exist, happy to be in each other's orbit. when he turns back to produce, he goes at it with a renewed purpose. he's got such good inspiration, after all. (or: loving you never feels like work to jihoon.)

mingyu was never the sulky type— until he met you, that is. it's a bit embarrassing, how much of a fool you have him acting like. because what do you mean kim mingyu is jealous of 2d characters? when you return after abandoning him for the latest chapter or the newest episode, he'll consistently act all off-put even though he's sooner to crack than you are. "your anime boys don't love you like i do," he insists, trying his best not to laugh at how silly he sounds to himself. "i'm the real thing, babe." (or: mingyu is a bit of a glutton for your attention.)

it's difficult to be anything but in love with seokmin, especially when he's so sincere in everything that he does. even after he accidentally knocked over the millenium falcon lego set it took you months to build, he's so endearing in his attempts to make amends. he'll spend hours poring over the instructions booklet, and he'll sort through the seven thousand pieces until his eyes are bleary. even then, he shakes his head when you say he should go to sleep. "i like spending time with you like this," he tells you, and you know he means it. (or: seokmin wants to give you the world.)

any other person might be annoyed as the hours tick by with no response. but minghao is not anything if not patient, and he's gotten quite used to losing you to the media that consumes you. if he's being honest, a part of him is probably in love with you because of that. it doesn't matter to him if you respond minutes or days late. all he cares about is that you always come back to him; that's more than enough. (or: minghao would wait lightyears for you.)

seungkwan sometimes feels like a big chunk of his early years were given up to get to where he is now, and so he didn't really have the time to like the things that other people his age normally might. when you came around with all the things that make you happy, though, he can't help but want the same thing for himself. so maybe he is a little betrayed that you watched the newest one piece episode without him, or that you beat all the gyms in pokémon scarlet & violet while he wasn't looking. can you blame him? (or: you are the youth that seungkwan missed out on.)

prior to meeting you, vernon could count on his two hands the instances wherein he's been extremely passionate about something. nowadays, he's always getting in to one petty debate or another about the best frank ocean album or the most insufferable f.r.i.e.n.d.s character. "you bring out the worst in me," he'll joke to you one evening. both of you know that it's the complete opposite. neither of you have to say it out loud, though. all you have to do is start bickering, again, about something that would have everyone else merely scratching their heads. (or: you keep vernon on his toes.)

chan isn't stupid. he's far from it, even. you're just— so smart. unbelievably so. he's not playing dumb or goading you when he's bombarding you with questions. he's genuinely astonished by the extent of your knowledge, the easiness of which you retain all these things. it's one thing to be proud of someone, and it's another to admire them. to look up to them. he feels all that for you and so much more. (or: of all the facts in the world, the one that chan is most certain about is this— he really, really does love you.)

[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 🫶🏻

[bluecrocss]

Yes. You are racist. (Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one)

So approximately half a year since the premier of the Disney+ Percy Jackson show, and almost two years since the announcement of the Trio's casting, I would like to take this moment to look back at the insane, racist and anti-black backlash that was launched at Leah Sava Jeffries and a few other cast members from the PJO fandom.

I'm not concerned with the trolls who are openly racist, who resorted to racist slurs and outright threats, everyone agrees that they "took it too far". I want to talk about the rest of you, the "I'm not racist, but.." people, the "What's wrong with wanting book accuracy?" people. Just to let you know, for the unasked question... yes, yes you are.

I've noticed the Percy Jackson fandom has been lording some weird superiority complex over a certain *unnamed* fandom that has fallen out of grace due to their recently outed bigot of an author. But honestly, y'all are not much different. The amount of vitriol and anti-blackness I have seen from this fandom (beyond just bullying a 12 year old girl), y'all don't have a leg to stand on.

Below is a breakdown of the most common arguments I have seen used to justify y'alls absolutely insane bigotry. I am going to explain why none of these justify the amount of anger and vitriol y'all have sent towards Leah, Rick or any of the cast.

I am not here to argue, and this is not a democracy. I am giving you a chance for some self-reflection and to understand that this pattern of violence directed towards POC actors (mostly black women) has never been justified in the name of "book accuracy"/"comic book accuracy"/"ending forced diversity" or whatever other excuses y'all try to make up.

If you still try to justify or argue further for any of these points, I will just block you. I am not coddling you through your racism. If anyone has seen any other dumb arguments floating around that I might've missed, feel free to sound off in the comments.

She's not book accurate:

Neither is Percy, Luke, Grover, Dionysus, Poseidon, and just about every other named character.

Rick already made it clear that physical features were not the priority with casting, rather it was actors that embodied the role. So why are the biggest complaints about Annabeth and Zeus? 🤔

What? You're gonna say everyone else got backlash too? I see you trying to obscure the main issue by playing dumb 😉

See my friend, yes, there were one or two comments about how Percy's hair should be black or how Luke is supposed to be blonde, but as soon as Leah was cast, none of those actors got any significant backlash. In fact, Walker and Charlie literally have an army of fan girls at their beck and call, calling them the perfect Percy and Luke, despite neither being "Book accurate". But then again, have we not observed the pattern of White boy of the month vs WOC to hate for the year? (Yes, I know Charlie isn't white. Further adds to the irony, doesn't it).

Why include character descriptions if you won't stay true to them, you cry? Well, my dear sweet moron, see, books and TV are two different mediums. Because in literature, you can't *Literally* SEE the characters, the author has to add descriptions to paint a picture in your mind, in TV... that's not an issue. So unless the character's appearance is necessary to the plot (like Luke's scar, or Nico being Italian) the show runners can actually focus on more important things.. Like ACTING and PERSONALITY.

2. It's just not how I imagined her:

News flash, babe! ANNABETH ISN'T REAL. None of these character are. They are concepts that originated from the brain of Mr. Rick Riordan. It doesn't matter how YOU imagined her. There are millions of people who read these books that imagined her several different ways. When the creator of the character watched Leah's audition and said, 'Yes! She embodies the character I created!", your imagined version of Annabeth ceased to matter. And guess what? The books still exist... they have not been burned. Your version of Annabeth has not disappeared. Go read the books.

3. Zeus can't be black/Gods have to be Greek/*Insert Character* can't be black:

Y'all did not read the books, I swear. You have to be fake fans looking to troll atp.

The gods move based off the center of western civilization. They change their forms/environment to reflect the culture they are occupying (they did it with Rome, now they're doing it with America). The gods change forms all the time. How we see them is not their true form as a mortal would disintegrate if they were to see their true form.

America is a cultural melting pot (specifically NY where Mount Olympus is now based). If the god's choose forms that reflect the current society they inhabit, they could literally be any race (keep in mind NYC is only 33% white).

All of this is literally SPELLED OUT in the Lightning Thief.

Furthermore, if you're going to push the ethnically Greek thing... Poseidon is British with a British accent and Hermes is Latino. The only ethnically Greek actor is Dionysus (who still doesn't look book accurate). Y'all are sounding like some white supremacists because do you forget that race is a social construct?

Before the advent of the transatlantic slave trade, I can promise you that the Greeks and the Anglo-Saxons did NOT view themselves as the same people. Why are y'all not taking issue with Poseidon's actor then?

Also, Percy Jackson has canonically had a slew of explicitly black demigods since the second book (including Harriet Tubman, which I have mixed feelings about 😭), so I genuinely have no idea where some of y'all are going with this point.

4. She was our smart blonde representation:

Don't pmo. I swear to God!

White, blonde women have NEVER been excluded from Hollywood. Representation is not something you lacked. The dumb blonde stereotype was a simple branch off of a larger misogynistic "dumb woman" stereotype. It has not truly been relevant since the mid 2000s outside of childish jokes.

This iteration of Percy Jackson will probably not go beyond the first 5 books, based off pacing and the age of the actors. So here's a fun game: 5 bucks to the first person who can find me a quote in the first 5 Percy Jackson books, where Annabeth laments her insecurities about being blonde (hint: there aren't any).

Also, her blonde hair does not hold her back at Camp because she is head of the Athena Cabin who are highly respected (and guess what?), ARE ALL BLONDE!

Her insecurities about her hair color are two or three lines at most in the later books, not this fundamental, core part of her character y'all all of a sudden wanna pretend it was. And guess what, as a non-blonde black girl, I was able to read those scenes of Annabeth feeling undervalued because of her looks and relate to her even if she didn't look like me at the time.

Why all of a sudden can y'all not do that with a black Annabeth? By every metric black girls are undervalued for their intelligence in academia more than white girls are, regardless of hair color. So your little representation of a woman undervalued by her looks would still hold. Do y'all dehumanize black women so much, that you are incapable of empathizing with show!Annabeth's plight in the way I could with Book!Annabeth simply because she doesn't look exactly like you?

Your issue isn't that she isn't blonde, it's that she is NOT WHITE.

Furthermore, Becky Riordan had tweeted previously (before the show was even cast) that Annabeth never needed to be blonde (probably recalling the BS y'all put Alexandra Daddario through), so even if they cast a white Annabeth, the blonde hair was never a guarantee. the author and producers all agree that it was not a significant part of her character. It's been a non-issue since day one.

Also, stop acting like smart blondes are rare in media... If you don't go watch some Legally blonde, Iron Man (Pepper Potts), Zack and Cody (Maddie), Liv and Maddie, FMAB (Winry), Captain Marvel, She-Ra, Buffy, The boys (starlight) etc. etc., and go sit down somewhere 🙄🙄🙄 (those were literally all things I've watched recently, off the top of my head, btw 💀)

5. It's not about race, but...:

Yes it is. It was always bout race. No other actors got as much hate as Leah. Her grandmother and other family members on IG had to mute their comments because they were getting so many threats.

Alexandra Daddario had to come to her defense on Twitter. Rick had to put out an official statement on his website. This girl has endured years of psychological torment for simply having the best audition. No one else is book accurate, no one else is ethnically Greek (except Jason Mantzoukas). Walker literally has British and German ancestry.

Why was she being called racial slurs on reddit and in youtube comments?

I know what you're gonna say, "I actually had problems with the entire cast", "I actually had a bigger issue with Walker's hair color", blah blah blah. Then why aren't you in Walker's comment sections? Why are you only making your displeasure known on posts defending/advocating for Leah? Why is she always your first example of 'wrong casting"?

Well, she "looks the most different"... Look up the term "scapegoating".

"Oh, I don't agree with the harassment. I just don't like the casting." Guess what? She's already been cast. They are not going to uncast her. What do you get out of still complaining about it.

All the vitriol you're stirring about her when you complain about her on Social media, it is directing people to send her hate, even if you're not writing it directly. It's is not enough to "not agree" with the racism, it is your duty to actively prevent it. And btw, these are young gen z actors, they are active on social media. They see the edits of themselves (even comment on it) and they most likely see these little "harmless" complaints you're posting. Are your upset feelings really worth contributing to the racist dogpile on this poor girl?

6. Why couldn't they atleast give her blonde braids?:

Why should they? Y'all wanted blonde because of the "dumb blonde" trope... that doesn't apply to POC.

A blonde black girl is gonna be viewed the same as a non-blonde black girl (or at worst, someone might decide she's "ratchet" or some shit for wearing colored hair). What difference would it make?

Why shouldn't Walker dye his hair, then?

7. Annabeth has Gray eyes:

Less than 3% of the global population has "gray eyes". Even if they cast a white actor, they would've needed contacts. Her being black is not the reason Annabeth's eyes aren't gray. Simply put, it is a plot element they removed, like the whole "names have power" element, or Ares having flames for eyes, or Dionysus using his powers to grow strawberries at Camp.

That's how adaptations work. Unnecessary plot elements are cut to save time and budget. This has nothing to do with her casting. They probably also didn't want to make child actors wear contacts (not a new practice).

8. Even if Rick chose her, he was wrong/Disney is forcing him to be okay with it:

Where do I start? Rick created the character. He can't be wrong. Do y'all have no self-awareness? Death of the author has no place here, because y'all are hung up on an aspect of the character that is not relevant to her arc or development.

Y'all's justification for wanting a "book accurate" Annabeth is that she was such an inspirational and important character growing up, and yet your behavior is so in conflict with the character you claim means so much to you. You're narrow minded, dismissive of bigotry and injustice, and disrespectful to the wishes of the creator of your favorite character; everything that Annabeth would never be. Y'all were never genuine fans of the books. You're bigots that needed an outlet for your rage.

Keep in mind, Rick has said countless times that PercaBeth directly mirrors his relationship with his wife. Y'all think he would have allowed them to cast someone who doesn't live up to the woman who has been by his side for decades? The mother of his children?

Regarding Disney forcing him, show me one piece of direct evidence that proves Disney in anyway pressured Rick to cast her. Cuz if you can't, that's baseless speculation. And if you have to resort to baseless speculation, maybe try to examine why it's so important to you to hold on to this belief.

9. So, I'm racist because I hate "race swapping"?:

To start, there is a difference between "race swapping" and "color blind casting". Often times, when y'all complain about the former, you're actually mad about the latter.

It would be "race swapping" if Rick and the team decided ahead of time that they wanted a black Annabeth and ONLY allowed black actors to audition. But the actual reality was that they accepted auditions from everyone (there were white actors and non-black poc that also auditioned for the role) and chose the best person who embodied the role. They didn't "make Annabeth black" and they didn't "make Zeus black", they cast black actors for those roles.

Y'all think you're being slick with your wording. Dismissing that is implying that they did not earn their roles fair and square. Which is racist. It's the equivalent of going up to a black college student and telling them they only got in because of affirmative action. You're dismissing the achievements of a person solely because of their racial background.

For all you people complaining about "unfairness" and "forced diversity", I would think hiring based on merit would appeal to you 🤔

71% of theatrical Hollywood leads were white in 2024 in comparison to 29% POC and you still think "black washing" is a thing? You still get this angry over a black person fairly earning a role because you think in a time where Hollywood only knows to do remakes and adaptations, that the majority of lead roles still *have* to be reserved for white actors?

Once again, white people have never been excluded from Hollywood for being white. Representation has never been something you lacked nor is it something you can lose. Your anger comes from seeing a black face where you think they don't belong. Because you feel you are owed a disproportion of representation in Hollywood.

10. Woke agenda/DEI/Forced Diversity:

If you are unironically using any of these terms in a negative light, it's already too late for me to reason with you. Look up the term "dog whistle". If you are sharing the same terminology with Elon Musk and his fanboys, maybe reevaluate some things.

POC are objectively underrepresented and have been historically excluded through actual laws and policies in Hollywood. There is no such thing as "forced diversity", you have bought in to a right wing conspiracy theory.

"Woke" is a term that was intentionally appropriated from the black community. It originally meant being aware of injustice and systematic threats to the community and is now being weaponized by bigots. Good job.

Diversity and inclusion is a good thing.

11. But POC deserve to have their own stories told:

We do. And we have been fighting for it for over a century now, and we've made great strides, no thanks to y'all.

No thanks to y'all gaslighting us about how little representation we get or that representation matters at all. No thanks to y'all pushing the idea that POC can't sell globally and obscuring POC actors in international promos. No thanks to y'all continuing to whitewash even to this day (Bullet train, the beguiled, gods of Egypt, atla, every portrayal of Jesus ever, etc.). No thanks to y'all calling every piece of media that has more than one black lead and more than one queer couple "woke". No thanks to y'all throwing a fit every time a black person in a fantasy setting isn't a slave.

Fact of the matter is, y'all never cared about POC "getting their own stories", you're only parroting our own words back to us now as a politically correct way of saying, "leave white roles alone" lmao

Well fun fact, actors of color getting opportunities to play lead roles and allowing poc to "tell their own stories" are not mutually exclusive. If y'all cared that much, instead of bullying a 12 year old actress, you could actually support up and coming independent POC writers, directors, and studios 😱

12. Studios need to stop "setting up" actors of color:

Do me a favor and google the term DARVO.

Your racism is not the fault of the studios for giving a POC actor a role that they earned. It is not up to the rest of society to tiptoe around racists to avoid their vitriol. It is our responsibility to hold them accountable and protect minorities from unwarranted hate. At most, you can say it's the responsibility of the studios to provide adequate support to POC actors who face this backlash.

At the end of the day, Hollywood only allows very few spots for POC actors (especially WOC), while simultaneously pushing a new white boy every month to put in everything. Putting minorities in these roles that are usually closed to them, usually opens the door to more actors of color than before.

Brandy being cast as Cinderella did a lot to push her into the mainstream (yes, she was already extremely famous in the black community atp), Halle Berry being the first, black, bond girl literally shot her to icon status, and even going as far back to what Anna Mae Wong did for Asian American actresses with her "femme fatale" roles.

At the end of the day, even with the backlash, *some* rep does more good for POC actors than *no* rep. The solution to racist backlash isn't to take away those opportunities, but rather to not be racist??? 🙄

Also, for everyone that claims that "POC race-swapping" is just as bad as "white-washing", despite white washing having a longer history and objectively causing more harm, note how the backlash to white washing never lasts as long as the harassment that POC get.

Like, no one brings up Scarlett Johansson's ghost in the shell role anymore, but you can best believe Candace Patton is still fending off racist trolls. As much as people hated the atla movie, people moved on quick from Nicola Peltz playing Katara since she was just a kid that accepted the role (re: daddy bought her the role), but y'all would not have any of that consideration for Leah Sava Jeffries.

But I digress...

13. What if we made Tiana white? Wakanda white? Hazel white...:

Ah, my favorite inane point. I was so excited to get here :)

See, I could start out by pointing out how "White washing" and casting a POC actor as a traditionally white character are not equivalent.

I could point out the history of hollywood ACTIVELY excluding POC actors and POC stories. I could point out how grossly over represented white people are in hollywood. I could point out that POC characters are so few in comparison that whitewashing them causes actual harm, where white people have never lacked rep.

I could point out how, because poc characters and stories are so often tokenized that their racial/cultural background is often directly tied to their character's identity, in opposition to a lot of white characters, since hollywood treats white as the "Default".

See, I could make all those points, but the thing is, the people who make this argument already know all that. They are trying to waste time by drawing me into a pointless circular argument that will sum up to "fair is fair", while ignoring all the context and nuance I previously provided.

So you know what? Forget it. Let me play your game.

I am actually fine with a white Tiana. Would it make sense, for her and her family to experience Jim Crow era racism, in the south while white? No. But we can look past it. Disney was never known for historical accuracy anyway 🤷🏿‍♀️

However, in exchange, the live action frozen will have a black Elsa and Anna, live action Rapunzel will be black, live action Merida will be black, we're re-filming Cinderella and Beauty and the beast to cast a black belle and Cindy, snow white will need to be recast as black, and we also get aurora whenever the live action sleeping beauty is announced. But then y'all can keep Tiana, deal?

You want a white T'Challa? Fine! (I'm partial to Ryan gosling), in the meantime, we'll be recasting Iron man, Captain America (Steve version), Bruce banner, Thor, Loki, hawk eye, black widow, ant man, captain marvel, Bucky, Peter Parker etc. All the avengers and their side characters, then y'all can have Sam Wilson, war machine and the whole of Wakanda (will it make sense that a sole, hidden, African nation is randomly made up of white people? Who cares? We get the avengers!).

You want white Hazel? You got her! I hope you have no problem with us taking Percy, Nico, Will, Poseidon, Jason, calypso, Rachel, Tyson, Silena, the stoll brothers, Sally Jackson, Hades, Hepheastus, ares, etc. But y'all can have Hazel and Beckendorf.

If we're gonna do this, let's commit all the way. Fair is fair, after all.

14. Leah isn't as "pretty" as Book Annabeth/Movie Annabeth:

I wish I could say this wasn't a genuine point I had read, but when all else fails, they will always go for a woman's appearance.

Now first of all, as a rule, I will never hold black women to white beauty standards. Our hair will never be long and silky enough, our nose will never be narrow enough, our skin will never be fair enough and our eyes will never be light enough (Might I recommend Toni Morrison, when you get the chance?). But Leah is unfairly gorgeous idc what any of you say, and you're not gonna have me use my defense of Leah as an opportunity to bash Alexandra either because she is also beautiful. These two queens slayed to the best of their abilities within this toxic ass fandom.

I find it funny, however, that so many of you harped on the "blonde" issue because you thought it was important that Annabeth be seen beyond just her looks, but quickly devolve to bashing an actress's looks when it comes to why she's not right for this role 🤔

I would also like to sincerely apologize that the 13 year old girl they cast in the show, wasn't as sexually attractive to you as the 24 year old woman they cast in the movie and sexualized through like 25% of her screen time (I'm actually not sorry. You're very weird if this is an actual point for you).

15. I don't agree with sending hate to the actor, but she's just not right for the role:

Once again, what are you doing by complaining about her casting on no other basis than her race?

The creator of the character said she embodied the role. She has already been cast, and Disney would be in a legal/production hell to recast her atp. Just because you're not directly leaving comments on her social media doesn't mean you're not part of the hate mob.

No matter how you look at it, your issues with her casting come from a very entitled and narrow-minded place. When you join in on these dialogues you are bolstering a sentiment that pushes more people to harass this teenage girl. When you leave these "harmless" complaints, on show content, fan posts or posts defending her, she's liable to read them because the cast regularly interact with fans online.

What do you have to say that is so important that it trumps protecting a young girl from the long-staying trauma of racism, of being told she doesn't deserve something she worked for because of how she was born?

16. I can't even criticize the show without being called racist:

Get. Over. Yourself.

Y'all are not the victim. Have fans of the show gotten protective of Leah and the young cast? Yes.

With good reason. This fandom is unbearably toxic.

Racism outweighs your need for a "perfect adaptation", sorry.

If you explain yourself properly and keep your critiques fair (like, even I don't think this was a perfect season, and will be sharing my thoughts shortly), no one is gonna call you racist.

You're preempting with that because in all honesty, you're probably planning to use your "critiques" of the show to pivot to one of the many points that I just outlined, and you want to pre-empt the criticism.

If a black Annabeth is the end all be all for you, just don't watch the show, no one's holding a gun to your head. Geez.

17. I'm Black/POC and I don't agree...:

Hey, Candace Owens... No one gives a shit.

First of all, for all the "I'm POC and I don't agree" people, you don't speak for us. Anti-blackness is rampant in just about every culture globally. You being not-white doesn't somehow make you less prone to hating black people.

But for the "I'm black and I don't agree" leftovers (assuming you're not just a 👩🏼‍💻 behind a keyboard). Black people are not a monolith. You're not obligated to think a certain way because you're black.

But consider why you're putting yourself up as a barrier to protect this hate mob. It's one thing to just state why you don't like Leah's casting, but to start off your spiel with "I'm actually black" as a way to weaponize the very identity politics you're critiquing... very strange. Not to mention, what are you defending?

The black community is coming together to defend one of our own, a kid who has been receiving death threats since she was 12, and this is when you feel the need to back the opposition?

I mean whatever... sometimes the house slaves would snitch to the master. There will always be some of y'all in the woodwork. It is what it is.

But when the exact ideology you defend is turned against you, when a Baltimore elected official is being accused of getting his job through "DEI", when conservatives are claiming that they wouldn't "trust a black pilot", don't decide that's where you'll finally draw your line in the sand.

All that being said, This is my Annabeth:

May every tongue that rose against Leah Sava Jeffries Shrivel and die in 2025 🙏🏿 My girl will keep winning ❤️

(video by @/waleahhasmyheart on TikTok)

[loganlermanstanaccount]

hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋

this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍

Wandering Hands

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)

warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI

a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao

very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33

wc: 2.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands. 

It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you.  He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?

To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours. 

"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him. 

You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss. 

Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile. 

“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.” 

“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.

The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”

Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water. 

“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.” 

His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.

“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle. 

In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.

“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.” 

“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.

Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.

“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress. 

"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach. 

"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes. 

"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-" 

"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."

"...or go to the sauna-"

"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."

"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"

He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini. 

"If you insist, cariño." 

~~~

The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back. 

There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day. 

You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets. 

Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring." 

"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?" 

He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck. 

"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise." 

You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time… 

"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone. 

"Promise me."

"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."

He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours. 

"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."

You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit. 

He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water. 

"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien,  okay?" 

So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands. 

"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you. 

"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

Miguel meets your eyes. 

"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.

"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."

He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface… 

He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you. 

Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.

"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-" 

"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused. 

"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!" 

Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope. 

"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."

You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well. 

"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her. 

"Pasta, baby."

"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."

A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"

You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh. 

"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit. 

It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected. 

You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase. 

"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."

Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."

They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."

Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."

"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out. 

Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog. 

As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear. 

"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?" 

"You're being mean."

"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax." 

Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him. 

"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?

"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”

"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."

You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy. 

When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure. 

You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours. 

"You're teasing." He hisses softly. 

You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart. 

"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up. 

"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."

You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length. 

"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-" 

That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face. 

Content. Relaxed, even. 

~~~

Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer. 

"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.

"I said I would call, didn't I?" 

You hum. "...suppose you did."

"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?" 

Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-" 

"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways. 

"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."

"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-" 

"Gross, Jess."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??" 

You wince at the vulgarity of her words. 

"....Ouch." 

She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.

_

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot

[theemporium]

[13.2k] the chalet was your home away from home in the festive season. but this year it may become the place you fall in love with the last person you expected. ft my very limited knowledge on how skiing works. (very lazy smut included)

.

Your family had always gone to The Chalet with the Montgomery’s for as long as you could remember. 

One spontaneous ski trip decades ago led your parents to start a tradition that would last through the generations. Every year, both families would fly out to the mountains of France to enjoy the festive season in the homely ski resort called The Chalet. Owned and ran by an elderly couple, it was the kind of place you would see in hallmark movies, or maybe even in a snowglobe. It was a place beyond your greatest winter wonderland dreams and imagination. The Chalet didn’t feel like a real place, and that was why the getaway every Christmas made the holiday so magical. 

It was your home away from home, a safe haven. It was the one place in the world where you could disappear from reality and embrace the isolation from society. 

At least, that was what the three weeks in the ski resort usually felt like. 

And after a year of moving away from home, starting a new job at the bottom of the food chain and dealing with more social circle drama than you ever intended to deal with, you craved nothing more than the simplicity and enjoyment The Chalet had to offer. You needed the break away from your life, a break away from the life you weren’t totally sure you had under control. 

You just wanted your home away from home, and instead when the families arrived at the resort, you were met with crowds of strangers swarming the place like a colony of buzzing, irritating bees. 

“What the hell?” You muttered once you had stepped out of the car, looking at the throng of people lingering outside the main entrance to the resort. 

“Apparently the place is booked out,” your mother noted from somewhere behind you as they began to unpack the bags from the boot of the car. “Madame Blanchet reserved our usual rooms when she started getting more and more bookings.” 

“Since when was this place overbooked?” You commented, a little blunter than intended. But it was hard to mask your surprise. A part of The Chalet’s charm was that it was a small, unknown ski resort hidden amongst the many that were established in the French Mountains. For as long as you could remember—hell, even before that—there hadn’t been more than ten or so families staying at the resort over the Christmas period. 

“Maybe Madame Blanchet finally learnt how to make a website,” a voice remarked from beside you, sounding quite amused by the mass of people, which shouldn’t have really surprised you. 

And just like you expected, you turned your head to find Harper Montgomery grinning widely at the crazy crowd like she was expecting it. She stood beside you with her hands on her hips, something about the bright ski suit looking so out of place, not that she acted as much. Every year, you swore The Chalet wasn’t ready for her and every year you were proven correct. 

“Considering the woman still has a dial phone, I am going to doubt the sudden online advertisement,” you snorted, shaking your head.

“Maybe this will be the Christmas we make new friends,” Harper noted, her head tilted to the side and her dark eyes scanning the crowd. “I am pretty sick of Mrs Hartford beating me at scrabble.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “Maybe you should stop challenging her then.”

Harper’s eyes narrowed. “Never.” 

“I still don’t get why so many people are waiting outside,” you grumbled as your eyes fell back to the crowd, noticing the way they were buzzing with some sort of excitement. “I don’t even think the lodge has enough rooms for this many people.” 

Harper hummed. “Maybe—”

“OH MY GOD!” 

Your eyes widened in alarm as you turned your head, seeing Evan standing a few feet away from you and Harper. The older Montgomery was gripping his phone, eyes full of adoration and awe as he grinned at his screen like a madman. He let out a high-pitched squeak, catching the attention of both families as they looked at him with varying looks of concern.

The blond finally lifted his head, oblivious to the worried looks as his grin seemingly widened. He thrusted a phone towards you and Harper, almost buzzing in his spot. “He’s here!”

Your brows furrowed together. “What?”

“He’s here!” Evan repeated, just as enthusiastic as the first time. “He is in our ski lodge! He’s here!” 

You still looked equally confused. “Who?” 

“His little man-crush,” Harper noted as she glanced down at his screen. 

“Charles Leclerc!” Evan sighed, almost dreamily as he hugged his phone to his chest. “We are spending Christmas with Charles Leclerc!” 

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, pushing past the boy to grab your suitcase so you could finally go check in. “For fuck’s sake, not your little driving guy.” 

“Hey,” Evan frowned. “He’s more than that.” 

“I have to listen to you talk about him for nine months of the year,” you remarked, though even that felt like an understatement. “Christmas is meant to be my free time from your little obsession. We made a deal.”

Evan blanched. “That was before I knew he was here!” 

“And now he’s ruining Christmas,” you grumbled bitterly, letting out a wince when you felt a pinch to your side.

“Don’t be such a grinch,” Harper teased. “Let him be a fanboy and spend his days on the slopes hunting the guy down. Don’t let it ruin your holiday.”

You snorted. “That will be hard when he is talking our ears off about Charles’ pretty green eyes or the way his hair looks after a race.”

“It’s fluffy!” Evan defended. “It’s unreal after a two hour race in a helmet!” 

“Whatever,” you muttered as you patted the boy on the chest as you moved past him. “You have him all to yourself, you won’t see me complaining about it.” 

Evan puffed his chest out. “You just can’t appreciate greatness.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” you waved him off. “I’m here to ski and relax. As long as this Charles guy keeps you and his little fanbase far away from me, I don’t care what he does.” There was a pause and Harper gave you a questioning look when she saw the glint in your eyes. “Even if he is overrated.”

Evan’s jaw dropped. “You did not just—”

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” You called out behind you as you grabbed Harper’s hand, dragging her towards the main entrance with you and letting your laughs echo through the reception as the boy swore up and down behind you.

…

You could have said that your resentment towards the Ferrari driver was purely based on how much Evan spoke about him during the racing season, but that would be a lie. 

It had started off that way when the boy finally made it into Formula One. Evan had been a motorsport fanatic from a young age, always eager to ramble away to you and Harper on various championships and seasons neither of you particularly cared about. As you got older, you learned to become more accepting and tolerant of the fact your Sundays would always be hijacked by whatever grand prix was occurring that weekend. 

However, when a young hot shot joined the sport that Evan had been following through the lower leagues, you didn’t realise just how quickly that tolerance would disappear until he was yapping your ear off after every single race. 

And truthfully? You didn’t get it. You didn’t get the sport in general, you didn’t understand what made a driver good or bad, and you didn’t understand the world’s obsession with Charles Leclerc as the years passed. To you, he just seemed like a pretty boy who enjoyed the spotlight of being the face of the sport. To you, he seemed like nothing more than a show pony. 

And no amount of debates and rants from Evan would change that. 

You wouldn’t have gone out of your way to say you hate Charles Leclerc, but you would say you were coming pretty damn close since you arrived at The Chalet.

The Chalet was bustling from the moment you opened your eyes to the moment you fell asleep. Wherever you went, it felt like you were pushing through a crowd to get from point A to point B. And the amount of times you had fans gripping your arm as you walked past, asking you if you had seen the Monegasque driver was starting to make you want to rip your own hair out. 

Yet, despite the buzz around the driver being in the lodge and the amount of fans circling the place through various hours of the day, you had yet to see the boy himself and that was something you were perfectly content with.

You had managed two blissful days before you crossed paths with Charles Leclerc. 

You had been taking too long to get ready so you assured Harper and Evan you would meet them at the slopes, insisting there was no need for them to wait for you. Both Montgomery’s—stubborn as ever—scoffed and told you they would be waiting for you in the lobby instead. 

You had been in a rushed state when you made your way towards the equipment valet, eager to just quickly hand your locker number over and collect your equipment. However, your path seemed to be blocked by a man standing in front of you, nose buried in his phone as he muttered in a language you didn’t quite understand. 

“Excuse me, do you mind if I just—” 

“Fucking hell,” the man swore, causing you to pause and frown at his back. 

You were taken aback, not expecting that response or the scoff that left his lips afterwards. And when he turned around, you were even more shocked when you realised you knew exactly who the rude man was—none other than Charles Leclerc. 

“Look, I appreciate that you are a devoted fan and I am grateful for the support, but I really don’t have time for pictures right now,” Charles continued and, to his credit, did look a little empathetic. Though, that didn’t take away from the underlying hostility in his words. “I am just here to enjoy my break. Please let me do so in peace.” 

You blinked, absolutely flabbergasted by his assumption. “Huh?”

The smile he gave you was almost condescending. “As a fan, I am sure you’d understand that I’d want a few days just free from the media and—”

And it seemed like only then did your brain catch up with the situation. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart, I am not a fan,” you stated as bluntly as you could, watching the boy’s face morph into something quite like confusion. As though he genuinely couldn’t compute the fact somebody wasn’t a fan of him. 

“What?”

“I was just trying to get my skis and you were standing in my way like a douche,” you said simply, watching as his brows furrowed closer together. “Which I would have felt bad for calling you before I realised who you were.”

“Who I was,” Charles repeated, still baffled as you pushed past him to do just as you said. 

“Hot shot who thinks everybody who breathes near him cares about who he is,” you supplied, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you now stood before him with your skis in hand. “Have a great day, Charles Leclerc.”

And the boy didn’t get a chance to say anything as you walked away, your mood positively ruined by the time you reached Evan and Harper in the lobby. They took one look at your sour mood and raised their brows in question, but you simply grumbled and waved them off, in no mood to repeat your interaction to Charles’ biggest sympathiser. 

Fortunately for the Montgomery siblings, your mood eased up by lunchtime and you were (mostly) over the whole interaction. 

…

Or at least, you were over the interaction until dinner came around. 

Dinner at The Chalet was like one massive family meal. With a large hall dedicated as the dining area, the Blanchet’s had set it up quite like a buffet system. There were tables of food bordering the room with tables dotted through the middle. Everyone sat on the round tables, in their little families and looking like a picture perfect scene for the final meal of the day. 

So of course your final meal of the day had to be ruined by an arrogant Monegasque who grinned at you like you two were old friends. 

“Ah, you! I’ve been looking for you.”

Truthfully, you wouldn’t have even realised he was talking to you if it weren’t for the fact the boy had stopped right beside you, practically looming over your shoulder as you tried to help yourself to some macaroni cheese.

You raised your brows, giving the boy a once-over before returning your attention to your plate. 

“Uh, hello,” Charles tried again, his brows furrowing together a little at the cold shoulder you gave him.

“Hi,” you stated simply, not wanting to spend any more moments with the Monegasque than you had to. 

“I wanted to apologise for earlier,” Charles continued, seeing your response as an open invite to a conversation. 

“Do you now?”  

“Yeah,” Charles nodded, a smile making its way onto his face as your sarcastic tone went completely over his head. “Listen, I really didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just—this is my holiday and I had no intention of my location being leaked. I just wanted a break from everything, you know? And I guess the frustrations of being bombarded for the last few days just got to me.” 

And truthfully speaking, a part of you sympathised with the boy. Though his fame reached levels you would never understand, The Chalet was your haven away from everything. It was a place where reality never seemed to touch, a place to escape. You could understand better than anyone what it was like to crave that feeling in your life. 

But just as you opened your mouth to say as much, Charles seemed to remind you exactly why you disliked him in the first place.

“And I just wanted to clear things up with you before the media found out and—” 

“So, you’re only apologising because you don’t want me running to journalists and ruining your image?” You interrupted, catching the boy off-guard as he gaped at you for a few seconds.

“Well, yes, it wouldn’t look good if I was harassing fans,” Charles said.

“But I’m not a fan,” you corrected him, gripping your plate in your hands. “And I certainly don’t care about shattering someone’s image for fifteen seconds of fame, no matter how much of a douche they are.”

Charles frowned. “I—” 

“You can take your apology and shove it up your ass, Charles,” you said, that sickly sweet smile on your face once again as you turned around to find whichever table your family were sitting at. But a hand reached out to softly grip your elbow and you turned to find Charles looking at you with a helpless expression. 

“I am sorry,” Charles said to you, something in his voice that you didn’t really understand. “But I also care about my image. Surely you can understand that.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you retorted as you tried to tug yourself free from his hold. 

Charles opened his mouth to reply, but a louder voice caught the attention of both of you. 

“STORMY! OVER HERE!” 

You felt your face heat up as you glanced over your shoulder, finding Evan sat amongst your family and his own as he waved you down. He had a shit-eating grin on his face (most likely from the fact he used the one nickname that he knew pissed you off more than anything else in front of everyone) and looked like he was about to do more when his gaze shifted to the man beside you. His jaw dropped, a comical expression on his face as he looked between you and Charles Leclerc.

“Stormy?” Charles repeated, looking over at you. 

You ignored his questioning gaze, instead narrowing your eyes at the hand still gripping your elbow. “Can you let me go now or is there more to your shitty apology?”

Charles opened his mouth once again, yet another person interrupted him before he got a chance.

“Charles? What’s taking you so long?”

Your eyes wandered to the girl who saddled up beside him, her expression light until she turned to look at you. Her gaze was calculated, her blue eyes seeming to size you up and something about the all white attire made you wonder if she was really playing into the Ice Queen vibes. 

“Another fan?” She sighed, as though your presence was the biggest inconvenience to her. “Honey, he can take pictures with you after dinner—”

“That’s fine, we’re done here,” you quickly corrected, ignoring the patronising tone in her voice or the way that Charles still looked like he had more to say. “I won’t be bothering either of you anytime soon.” 

You turned on your heels before either one of them had a chance to drag out the interaction any longer than it needed it to be. You weaved through the tables before making your way towards the table your family had chosen, settling yourself in the free seat beside Evan.

“That was Charles Leclerc!” 

You hummed, grabbing your fork as you began to dig in. “Unfortunately so.” 

“Dude, what the hell!” Evan hissed, pinching your side until you let out a small squeak and turned to him. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?”

You frowned. “I don’t.”

“You were talking to him for ages!” Evan countered. 

“He was just being a dick,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Plus, that was probably the last time I’ll ever talk to him.” 

Harper snorted. “And you didn’t even get him an autograph.”

“Not that I would ask,” you prefaced before shaking your head. “But I doubt he would have given me one anyways. We…got off on the wrong foot.” 

“It’s Charles Leclerc,” Evan scoffed. “There is no wrong foot.” 

“Keep it in your pants, dickhead,” you teased, lightly pinching his side back in retaliation. “Even if I did get you an autograph, I would have shredded it after the Stormy stunt you just pulled.”

“But that’s your name,” Evan grinned.

“No, it’s what you called me for seven years because you couldn’t remember my name,” you retorted. 

“No, he remembered,” Harper piped in, a grin on her face that scarily matched her brother’s. “But with a temper like yours, Stormy just fits so much better.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You both suck and so does Charles Leclerc.” 

“At least wait until dessert before you start insulting Evan’s boyfriend in front of him.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

…

You had expected that was the last time your path would ever cross with Charles Leclerc and, for the most part, it was. 

A few days passed and other than some awkward shared glances in the dining hall, you hadn’t found yourself caught in a conversation with the Ferrari driver after his attempted apology and you were intending to keep it that way until the end of your trip. You were happy to continue on with your holiday, even if you swore you could feel a pair of eyes watching you sometimes. 

However, it seemed like the universe was on a mission to get your hopes up before crumbling them back down again—and this time, it was in the form of another involuntary meeting with the Monegasque. 

You hadn’t even noticed the boy standing a few feet away from you with a group of his friends. You were stood next to Harper, listening to her ramble away as you waited in line for the ski lift to take you to the top of the mountain. It was fairly early, most of the resort residents still enjoying their breakfast inside which meant the queue wasn’t very long. You had been eager to get out on the snow early after being one of the last in the passing days. 

However, whilst you failed to notice the driver, it seemed like Harper had. 

She watched the boy continuously glance over at you, like he was eager to catch your eye. She watched as he slowly shuffled closer, like he was trying to gain the confidence to jump into the conversation. She watched Charles Leclerc act like a hopeless fool, and it was somewhat endearing to witness.

And maybe—just maybe—she was in the mood for some drama that the vacation in the ski resort very rarely gave her. 

You were already settled in your spot when you felt someone shuffling in the seat next to you. You felt the comfort bar come down and you turned with a smile, ready to continue your conversation with your best friend when you realised your best friend was not the person sitting next to you. 

No, it was Charles Leclerc. 

Your head whirled around, finding Harper standing in the queue with a grin on her face. You shot her a look, one that spoke more than a thousand words on just how you felt about her betrayal. However, the girl just laughed and waved you off as the lift began moving and it was far too late to get off. 

Your attention shifted to the boy beside you again, noticing the sheepish expression on his face and you let out a sigh. 

It was fine. Totally fine. The ski lift took around ten minutes to get to the top of the mountain. That was hardly anything, practically a blink of an eye if you were being honest. It would be a quick ride up, you wouldn’t even have to talk to him and you could easily ignore him by the time you made your way back down the mountain. It was all going to be so, so fine.

“So, uh, how are you this morning?” 

And suddenly, even a second felt like ten years passing. 

You kept your head facing forward, hoping the boy would catch the hint that you weren’t interested in small talk and would also remain silent. Though, considering the fact he was fidgeting in his seat, you doubted the boy could keep quiet for longer than thirty seconds.

“The weather is great, right?”

Your brows furrowed together. The weather? Really?

“The pancakes were also really good at breakfast this morning. Did you have any?” He continued, only pausing for a moment when he realised you were making a point of not answering him. “Stormy?”

One simple word and that was enough for you to break your silence.

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped, a little harsher than you truly intended but the sentiment remained.

Charles blinked. “You don’t want me to call you your name?”

“It’s not my name,” you replied. 

He blinked again. “But in the dining hall—”

“It’s a nickname—one that Evan likes to wind me up with because he thinks I’m moody,” you explained before realising the boy didn’t really deserve an explanation. Not when you were adamant to keep this conversation short. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Well, I can see where he gets it from,” Charles said with a small snort. 

You frowned. “Excuse me?”

Seeming to realise what he said and just how it sounded out loud, it was almost comical to watch Charles’ lips part before he awkwardly gaped at his previous comment. “Not like that! I just meant—”

“Whatever,” you muttered as you turned to face forwards again, pleading for the lift to somehow reach the top of the mountain already.

“Look, I’m sorry. This wasn’t how I intended this to go,” Charles admitted, almost sounding a bit pained when he said it, as though he wasn’t used to admitting he was wrong. “I wanted to properly apologise. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you, and I definitely shouldn’t have brushed it off as anything except how you felt.” 

You paused, brows furrowing together as you turned to face him with a curious expression.

Charles blinked. “What?”

“I was just waiting to see if there was a ‘but’ coming,” you confessed.

“No buts,” he assured, pausing for a moment before his cheeks burned pink. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. That’s it.”

You let out a sigh, wishing that some part of you was suspicious about his apology but you weren’t. He sounded genuine, and as much as you wanted to—and still partially did—believe he was a bit of a pompous prick, you couldn’t fault that his apology seemed sincere.

“I accept your apology,” you said, your voice a little strained before you continued. “And I’m also sorry for being a bit of a bitch.”

Charles’ lips parted. “Oh no, you weren’t—”

“I was a little,” you said, your lips twitching upwards as the boy gave you a nervous smile. “I can assure you I won’t be telling any gossip pages about what an asshole Charles Leclerc is.” 

He actually laughed in response, despite the fact that alone would probably make his PR team bury him six feet under before the next season started. “I appreciate that, Stormy.”

You glowered at the nickname, but it only seemed to make the Monegasque laugh harder. 

…

Despite the exchange of apologies on the ski lift, you expected that to be your last proper interaction with Charles. 

You were also quickly realising that every time—so far—you had assumed as much, you would find yourself face to face with the driver once again. And this time was no different, except it came much earlier than a few days. It happened later that very same day.

You had made your way into the dining hall, grabbing a plate and beginning to survey the large buffet when you felt the warmth of another person standing beside you. You felt a hand brush your arm and turned to find Charles smiling at you. 

“Bonjour, mon ami.” 

You blinked. “What?”

His smile widened. “It means—”

“No, I know what it means,” you quickly corrected, shaking your head a little. “I just…didn’t realise we were friends.”

Charles’ brows furrowed together. “Why wouldn’t we be? I thought we had made up on the ski lift.” 

“Yes but, other than that, we are strangers,” you said to him like it was obvious—and to you, it was. Beyond a few misunderstandings and awkward apologies, the man in front of you was as much a friend to you as any of the other guests in the lodge.

“Well, we can change that now!” He said, and that smile returned to his face. “Turn over a new book or whatever the saying is.” 

Much to your own surprise, you found yourself laughing a little at his response. “Charles, I—”

“STORMY, HURRY UP OR I AM DRINKING YOUR WINE!” 

Both your and Charles’ head snapped over to Evan who was holding a wine glass in each hand, a large smile plastered on his face and a twinkle in his eyes that promised mischief. His hair was still wet from the shower he took before dinner, meaning it was slick back and giving him an almost wannabe Bond villain look. 

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned back to look at the driver. Only you found Charles still looking in Evan’s direction, something contemplative and almost begrudging in his gaze. 

“You okay?”

Charles turned to face you, and it took a mere second for the glare to disappear and be replaced with his bright smile once again. “Yeah, of course. It seems like you’re wanted elsewhere though.”

“He’s a menace,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes but the fondness was clear in your voice. “I love him even if he’s a pain in the ass.”

Charles only let out a contemplative hum as a goodbye as you headed towards the table where your family and the Montgomery’s were sitting. And maybe if you looked over at him as much as he did with you over the course of the dinner, you would have seen Charles looking a little too bitter every time your eyes were on Evan instead of him.

…

A week had passed in the resort and the Christmas spirit was starting to truly spread as the festive holiday quickly approached. 

Your parents and the Montgomery parents had decided to pass on the slopes, instead choosing to visit infamous glacier caves that had been advertised and talked about by some locals in the lodge. You, Harper and Evan had declined the offer to join them, though the excitement of no parents being around—despite the fact all three of you were firmly in your twenties—seemed to spark a shift in energy in Evan that could only be described as childlike. 

“I have a proposition.” 

Harper already let out a groan, tilting her head back as she did. You couldn’t see her eyes beneath her goggles, but you imagined she was rolling them. “God, no.”

Evan frowned. “You haven’t even heard it yet.”

“Your ideas are shit,” Harper said to her brother. “And usually dangerous.”

“No, they aren’t,” Evan scoffed.

You shrugged. “You don’t have a great track record, if we are being honest.”

“Whatever,” Evan grumbled before grinning at the two of you. “First two to reach the bottom wins. Sabotaging each other’s run is allowed. Loser has to do the forfeit.” 

Your eyes narrowed. “What’s the forfeit?” 

“Loser has to streak in the snow,” he grinned.

“I am not streaking in the snow,” Harper scoffed.

“Then, you better hope you win,” the older Montgomery countered with a grin. 

And begrudgingly, you and Harper agreed to his childish idea.

It wasn’t the first time a silly competition between the three of you got out of hand, and you truly doubted it would be the last. With no rules set and no parents to even try to intervene, it didn’t take very long before the competition got dirty and the run down the slopes became more chaotic. 

You had been running behind Harper, secure in second place and watching her movements closely to look for any weakness that you could exploit. However, you had failed to realise that Evan—who had been running behind after he almost skied into a group of people—was quickly catching up on you. 

You didn't realise until it was too late.

You let out a noise of surprise when you found the boy right by your side, one that quickly became a series of curses when you realised what he was doing. You tried to move away when you noticed him turning into you, but you were too slow and it only put you in a worse position when his pole lodged itself between your skis. 

He was long gone by the time you tumbled into the snow, cackling loudly as he went. You let out a groan of frustration as you turned until you were lying on your back. You winced a little as you tried to awkwardly scramble up onto your feet in hopes of catching up with the Montgomery siblings, but the second a bit of pressure was placed on your ankle, you were crying out in pain and your ass hit the snow once again.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself as you sat in the snow, tears welling in your lash line at the shot of pain up your leg. 

“Cherie!” 

You lifted your head when you noticed someone skidding to a stop beside you. You blinked at them in a moment of confusion, but the second they removed their goggles and pulled down their mask, you found Charles—or at least, a very worried and concerned version of him—looking down at you. 

He took you in, noticing the glossy sheen to your eyes before he turned back to look over his shoulder, letting out a string of curse words that you were certain were not in English before his attention returned to you.

“Are you okay? What hurts? Is something broken? Should I call for them to send a helicopter—” 

“Charles,” you quickly interrupted the rambling boy. “I’m fine. I’ve probably just sprained my ankle.” 

“Yeah, because of him,” Charles grumbled, mostly under his breath like he had no real intention for you to hear the snide remark.

“It was a joke,” you waved him off, but that only seemed to upset the boy further.

“A joke?” He repeated, his eyes widening in disbelief. “You’re hurt. It’s hardly a funny joke.”

“Charles, calm down.”

The boy just scoffed, shaking his head before he lodged his poles into the snow, keeping them off the main trail before he turned to you and offered his hand. 

You looked at him expectantly. 

“Let me help you get down to the lodge,” he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. 

“Charles—” You began, but he wasn’t having it.

“No, cherie, I am not going to leave you here when you’re injured and alone,” he said, emphasising the last word in particular as he glanced around, almost like he had to remind you that Harper and Evan were most likely at the bottom of the slope by now. 

“Fine,” you said with a sigh, taking his gloved hand in yours as you allowed him to pull you up, keeping your weight on him with ease. “This doesn’t mean we are friends though, Charles.”

He only grinned at you, the first time he seemed a little more like himself since he stopped to check on you.

“Whatever you want to say, Stormy.”

…

As expected, you had sprained your ankle and were advised to take it easy for the next few days. 

And you were banned from hitting the slopes in fear of making the sprain worse. 

You wanted to be annoyed about the situation—and a small part of you was—but honestly, a few days in the lodge with some peace and quiet seemed like a dream. As much as you loved your family and the Montgomery’s, you needed a break from how loud and giddy and excited they were.

And as the days quickly approached Christmas, it felt like a nice relief to have some time to yourself before the festivities truly took over. 

You had waved them off after breakfast with a smile, teasing them not to miss you too much as they headed towards the slopes. Evan had offered to stay inside with you, even just for today, because of the guilt that he was the one to put you in the position. But you just rolled your eyes, assuring him you were more than happy to sit by the fireplace by the foyer and enjoy a day where you didn’t have to fall flat on your ass in the snow. 

You had been a few chapters into your book, curled up on the couch with your ankle elevated on a pillow with a blanket thrown over you when Charles and his friends made their way downstairs, prepped and ready with the intentions of heading out to the slopes. 

But the boy spotted you and found his feet moving in a different direction. 

“Stormy!”

You lifted your head, unable to even find it in yourself to be annoyed by his constant use of the nickname when he had a pretty smile on his face whenever he said it. He was bundled up in layers, probably on his way to the equipment kiosk before he headed for the lift. He looked comical next to the fire.

“My knight in shining armour,” you greeted, a teasing tilt in your voice but the boy missed it as he took in your appearance. “You look warm.”

“You’re staying in today?” 

You nodded. “Doc’s orders.”

“Alone?” 

You nodded once again. “I told the others they could—”

“I’ll stay with you!”

He said it so quickly that it took you a few seconds before you realised just what he had said. You blinked, your brows furrowing in confusion. “You’re at a ski resort and you don’t want to go skiing?”

“I’ve been skiing every day since I got here,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “I can handle not skiing for a day.”

You flashed him a smile. “It’s fine, you don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” he countered, the words passing his lips with ease.

You hated the way your chest tightened a little at his words. “Oh.”

Charles smiled at your response. 

“Charles, hurry up!” 

You missed the way his brows furrowed together at the voice when you turned to look at the woman standing a few feet away, looking impatient and slightly annoyed. It was the same woman from the other week, the one that looked a little too much like the cold weather personified. You had learnt over the passing days her name was Melanie, but that was about as far as your knowledge on the woman went, other than her clear attitude. 

Charles let out a sigh before he replied, a slightly more strained smile on his face. “Go on without me. I’m gonna stay in the lodge today.”

Melanie frowned. “Why?”

“Because I want to,” Charles stated simply, and the repeated words made your chest feel funny again. 

Melanie glanced over at you and then Charles, and then back to you again. Her eyes were narrowed and her glare felt icy, but before she could even think of saying anything, a friend from the group was calling out to her and she had no choice but to join them. 

Charles turned back to you, an easy smile on his lips once again. “So…what’s the plan?” 

You snorted. “To sit here because I’m practically bedbound, unless I want to hobble somewhere.” 

Charles pressed his lips together. “Well, sitting by the fire with no hot chocolate is sacrilege.” 

Your nose scrunched up. “But I don’t have cookies. Hot chocolate by itself isn’t fun without homemade Christmas cookies.”

“Then we will make them,” Charles said.

You rolled your eyes. “And where are we making them? In our rooms with a kettle, tap water and no other ingredients?”

“Please,” Charles said with a scoff, a glint in his eyes as he looked down at you with a proud glint in his eyes. “I am Charles Leclerc. I have my ways.”

You weren’t sure what strings he pulled, who he bribed or just what he blackmailed the lodge owners with, but you were filled with a sort of unease when Charles returned twenty minutes later. He had changed out of his heavy ski gear into a pair of jeans and a sweater that looked insanely cosy. And he had told you that he needed you to close your eyes, to trust him enough to carry you to the destination with a promise that all the drama would be worth it.

He looked so damn proud when he brought you to the lodge’s kitchen with bowls and whisks and ingredients sprawled across the counter—it made that funny feeling in your chest return. 

“How did you manage this?” You asked, an incredulous laugh leaving your lips when he sat you on the counter. 

“I’m Charles Leclerc, I can get anything I want,” he said, and once upon a time, you would have rolled your eyes and thought he was a pompous dick. You still thought he was a little cocky, but it was an endearing trait now. 

You raised your brows. “Do you, Charles Leclerc, know how to bake?”

“Nope,” he said honestly but he was still smiling. “But I am sure I can make something edible with you guiding me.”

“Smooth,” you snorted. “Don’t blame me if they taste like shit.”

As it would turn out, Charles had an overbearing need to be in control of everything. You guessed it came with the lifestyle, the fact his life is always in the palm of his own hands whenever he sat in a car that raced hundreds of miles an hour. However, it seemed like it also extended to the Monegasque ignoring your very clear and correct instructions to do something he insisted was the right way.

“In what fucking world do you need that much sugar?” You remarked, lips parted in shock as you watched the boy add more. 

“They are sugar cookies, cherie, it’s in the name,” Charles retorted.

“That doesn’t mean the batter should be seventy-five percent sugar!” You huffed as you reached over to try and grab the bag of sugar from him. “You are going to make us both diabetic with one of those damn cookies. Don’t you have a diet you are meant to be following?” 

Charles only grinned, a little mischievous. “Yeah but it’s Christmas.”

You shook your head. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“And you’re bossy,” he countered. 

“And I’m right,” you insisted as you frowned at the batter, wondering if it would be easier to just toss it out and start again. “It’s not my fault you don’t have the ego to handle it.”

“Or your ego can’t handle the challenge,” Charles said, something shining in his eyes like his words had a hidden meaning you couldn’t quite understand. “Tell me you don’t like it.”

You tilted your head a little. “You think you’re the only man to talk back to me, Leclerc?”

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek. “I would like to think I’m the best.” 

You couldn’t ignore the way his eyes darkened, the way it seemed to surge some sort of competition inside him. You couldn’t help but want to play on his fragile male ego a little more.

“And if I said you weren’t?” You questioned, pressing your lips together in a poor attempt to hide your smirk. 

Charles breathed out of his nose, his jaw clenching a little before he replied. “Then I would say Evan is a lucky man to have you.”

And just like that, your smirk dropped. 

“What?” 

Charles frowned a little. “I would say Evan is a lucky man,” he repeated, the words sounding a little forced as they left his lips. “You two seem like…a great match even if he does leave you abandoned on a ski slope after—”

“Oh my god, no!” You blanched, your shoulders hunching up to your ears as you shook your head. “Ew, no! Absolutely not!”

Charles blinked. “Huh?”

“Me and Evan—” You swallowed hard, unable to even get the words out. “It’s not like that between us. I have known him forever, he’s like a brother to me.” 

“Oh,” Charles murmured, taking a few seconds before he grinned. “Oh!” 

“Yeah, oh,” you grumbled.

Charles couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “So, you aren’t—”

“Nope.”

“With Evan or anyone?”

“No one.”

“Good.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the giddiness written across his face. If someone told you it was Christmas morning, you would have believed them. “Subtle, Charles.”

“Subtle is my middle name.”

…

The next day, you met Charles by the foyer fireplace, but this time he was prepared with his own book. 

The day after, he was there again but both your books were quickly abandoned as you chatted away. 

The day after that, neither of you bothered to bring your books down. 

Despite your insistence that he should be out on the slopes enjoying his vacation and the downtime he had in between seasons, Charles was adamant that he was doing exactly what he deemed relaxing. And just like he said earlier, Charles Leclerc gets what he wants—and it seemed he wanted to spend his days huddled in the lodge with you. 

Everyone noticed the budding relationship between you and Charles, but nobody said a word. Well, your family and the Montgomery parents didn’t say a word. Harper and Evan on the other hand? They wouldn’t leave you alone.

Harper was cackling at the irony. She was throwing your words back in your face, teasing the way seemed to switch your opinion on the Monegasque driver in the span of a week and looked down right smitten for the boy. She teased you over the fact it took you almost two months before you went on a date with your ex-boyfriend, and here you were having daily fireplace dates with the boy you called an asshole less than a week ago. She was embracing her full right as your best friend to annoy the fuck out of you. 

Evan was a whole other story. The boy looked like a kicked puppy every time you came back from hanging out with Charles, only to tell him you didn’t get him an autograph nor did you bring into the conversation how cool he was or how amazing he was or how he and Charles would totally get on if you introduced them. You didn’t have the heart to tell the boy that up until seventy-two hours ago, Charles didn’t like him through a bizarre assumption.

It had been constant and annoying, but in a way that made your heart feel full because you knew no matter what, at least those two would support every decision you made. Even if they got unbearable during the meal times where Charles would find any excuse to come talk to you. 

Tonight was no different as he approached you with a smile spread across his face and something dangerous and promising shining in his eyes. You were sitting at the table alone whilst everyone else headed towards the tables to fill their plates—yours in Harper’s hand—and you were grateful for the small moment of peace as he leaned down. 

“Missing me already?” You teased. 

He shrugged, though he didn’t disagree. “I have a very important message for you.” 

You raised your brows in question. “Oh?” 

Instead of saying anything, the boy just grinned wider and handed you a small piece of paper. You frowned a little at it, looking up at him in confusion but the boy was already taking a few steps away from your table.

“Charles—”

But the boy just winked before turning on his heel, heading back to the table the rest of his friends were sitting at, where they were probably watching the whole interaction even if they tried to make it seem like they weren’t. 

You glanced down at the note in your hand, lips turned downwards as you opened the folded paper. It baffled you that he couldn’t just say what he had written down, but another part of you warmed a little at the idea that he had taken the time to write the note and go through with it—regardless of it being a bit silly. 

You couldn’t bite back your smile when you read the note. 

meet me @ midnight. my room number is 161. wear something cosy :) 

You snorted, shaking your head as every cell in your body thrummed in excitement to meet the boy you once hated later that night. 

…

“The note was cute, but I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just ask me to hang out.” 

“Because that’s not fun.”

“You just handed me the note, that’s hardly any different.”

“It was like a real life text, cherie. It’s how they used to do it back in the day.”

You snorted in response. 

You had listened to his advice, deciding that a hoodie and pyjama bottoms were the way to go as you snuck up to the floor he was staying at. Your knuckles had barely grazed the door before it was yanked open, a grinning boy on the other side. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie and grey sweatpants, his hair pushed back with a bandana and a pair of glasses sat on his nose.

He didn’t even give you a chance to say anything before he was dragging you inside.

It should have been obvious that Charles Leclerc of all people would have a suite but truthfully, you hadn’t even realised the lodge had master suites as big as this one. But it did. And it was huge. And you expected nothing less for the Monegasque. 

There were multiple different rooms that veered off the large living room: one that was furnished with a massive tv, soft plush sofas and a large fireplace that looked like it was straight out the front of a Christmas card. Surprisingly, it was decorated for the festive season with even a tree settled in the corner between the armchairs. It felt homely. It felt perfect for this midnight meeting. 

However, you didn’t get much of a chance to look around before he was dragging you out onto the balcony. There was a loveseat set up with pillows and blankets, and a small table set with hot chocolate and a plate of cookies (ones he assured you he had the chef make fresh). 

“I never took you to be so traditional,” you teased, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders as a light breeze hit you. “But I guess you have to make do since you haven’t even asked for my number.”

Charles raised his brows. “Is that your subtle way of telling me to hurry up and ask for it?” 

“Subtle is my middle name,” you retorted, his own repeated words thrown back in his face but they seemed to light a spark inside him. 

Charles’ eyes dropped to your lips for a few passing beats before they returned to your eyes, and you saw everything written in them. This was different to the days you had spent down in the foyer. Everyone could see you both. You could see everyone. It was public and out in the open and exposed. 

But here?

It was just you and him and the pretty night sky that shone and glittered with stars. You were away from the world, from reality. You were away from your family and friends. You were away from peering eyes and judgemental looks. You were in a bubble you never wanted to leave, huddled in thick wool blankets and desperately hoping he would close the minimal distance between you both. 

His lips were a hairbreadth away from brushing against yours when another breeze caressed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine that momentarily jolted you away from him.

“You’re cold,” he noted, though it was pretty obvious when you two were both outside in minimal layers. “Let’s get inside. We can warm up by the fire.”

And a part of you wanted to scream off the balcony into the French Mountains when he stood up, when the moment broke and his lips weren’t against yours. But as angry as you wanted to be, you were grateful when he guided you to sit in front of the fire as he added more wood to the dying embers.

His thigh was brushing against yours when he settled into the spot beside you on the floor, his cheeks tinted pink from the cold as he grinned at you before holding his hands out to the fire. You laughed, following suit and the conversation from moments before the almost-kiss returned. 

However, minutes passed and your body was still racked with small shivers that Charles quickly picked up on.

“C’mere,” he murmured as he lifted his arm, giving you little time to dispute (not that you were going to) as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you into his side.

You didn’t think about it too much as you buried yourself into his embrace, as you pressed your cheek into his hoodie and enjoyed the way his hand seemed to leave a trail of heat wherever he touched. 

“If I get hypothermia and die, I’m coming back to haunt you and your sugar cookies,” you grumbled, though it was lighthearted as you pressed your nose further into the fabric of his hoodie. 

His chest shook underneath you as he laughed and tightened his hold on you. “I would never let anything happen to you, Stormy.”

“You and that stupid nickname,” you said as you let out a long sigh. “You know my actual name now. You have no excuse to use it.”

“Yeah, but it suits you,” Charles retorted, letting out a small noise of surprise when your cold fingers pinched his side. “Plus, you get this…uh, what’s the word…cute look on your face when you’re angry.” 

Your head snapped up to glare at him. “I don’t look cute when I’m angry.”

His face brightened. “Yes! That face! C’est mignon!"

Your eyes narrowed further. “Don’t pull the cute French card, it’s not gonna help you.”

“You think my French is cute?” Charles replied, his laugh echoing through the suite as you rolled your eyes.

“You drivers and your egos,” you grumbled.

“Have a lot of experience with drivers?” Charles questioned, a hint of something unreadable in his voice.

You snorted, both of you knowing the answer to that question but you played along. “Maybe I do.” 

His eyes darkened slightly. “What about kissing them?”

And just like that, Charles Leclerc had left you speechless for what felt like the millionth time since you met him.

His gaze was locked on your lips, the crackling of the fire felt like it was booming through the silent room and you were truly wondering if your heart was going to burst through your chest and splat on the floor in front of you both. 

“I can’t say I have much experience in that department,” you admitted once you managed to choke your words out.

His lips twitched upwards. “Would you like some experience, Stormy?” 

You didn’t know if you nodded or if he just took the signs of your flustered, stuttering mess and took mercy on you. You didn’t know if his hand reached to cup your face first or if it was your hand on the nape of his neck instead. You didn’t know if it was you moaning lowly into the kiss when his tongue darted out or if it was him. 

Kissing Charles Leclerc was overwhelming and world-altering and, truthfully, you didn’t think you could even utter your own name if someone asked you at that moment. 

“Merde,” he groaned before he kissed you harder, faster, more passionately. His other hand reached for your waist, those muscles hidden under his baggy hoodie put to good use as he hauled you onto his lap.

Your knees sat on either side of his hips, your ass firmly planted on his lap as the new position allowed you to fully wrap your arms around his neck. The boy’s hands dropped to your waist, squeezing and guiding as your hips shifted in his lap as his kisses left you seeking anything he would give you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted when he had to pull away, when his lungs were burning for air. But you still wanted more, you sought out to keep hearing those pretty noises he made as your lips trailed down his neck. “So fucking long.”

“You took your time,” you muttered between open-mouthed kisses when his hold tightened as your lips passed a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear.

“You hated me for a majority of the time we’ve known each other,” he managed to utter out, his head falling back as your teeth lightly grazed his skin.

“Does it look like I hate you now?” You retorted, something about the back and forth feeling as thrilling and exciting as his fingers fiddling with the hem of your hoodie.

Charles’ eyes caught yours as you lifted your head from his neck, lips red and swollen and fuck, he wanted to kiss you again. “I think I need a little more convincing.”

“Yeah?” You watched as he nodded, a little too eager but it made your stomach twist in the best way possible. “Well, you did promise to keep me warm.”

“I did,” he murmured, his voice a little rough and husky.

“Warm me up, Leclerc,” you whispered as you leaned down to kiss him again, his hands squeezing your waist before your lips even touched. “And then I’ll decide if I hate you still.”

A choked noise of surprise left your lips when Charles suddenly moved. You were no longer sitting on his lap, but instead had been laid back on the floor with the boy now hovering over you. He flashed you a smile, one twisted with promises that made your chest feel tight.

You waited for him to lean down and kiss you again. You waited to feel his heated touch on your body. You waited for him to finally slide his hands under the fabric of your hoodie, to feel his fingers along your bare skin. 

But instead, he just looked at you with so much fondness in his eyes.

“What?” You questioned, and suddenly the idea of being naked underneath him was no longer the most exposed you felt.

“Nothing,” he said simply as he shook his head. “Just…wanted to make sure.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Of what?”

“That you’re okay with this,” Charles said as he finally lifted his hand, as he let his fingers brush across the apple of your cheek. You could feel your skin heating up underneath his touch. “I want you to know that I’m happy to just talk. I don’t want you to think I just invited you here to—”

“Charles,” you interrupted, and the boy fell quiet as his cheeks flushed pink. “I want to.”

He tried to bite back his smile. “Yeah?”

You laughed, nodding. “Yeah.”

And despite the reassurance and despite the heat in your body that just wanted to throw your legs over the boy and ride him until the sun came up, Charles Leclerc was nothing, if not a gentleman. And something about that made it so much hotter. 

His touch was always so confident but gentle. The way his lips pressed against yours, the way his tongue caressed yours as his fingers slowly peeled away the layers of clothes between the two of you. The way he paused to set down pillows and a blanket to make it comfier for you before his fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs and discarding them someplace else.

The way you reached down to cup his bulge in his boxers, prepared to slip your hand beneath the elastic of his boxers and stroke the length of him—only to have your hands batted away. You barely got a chance to question him before his kisses silenced you, before they began moving south and you felt his lips on every inch of your exposed skin that he could reach. 

You felt breathless by the time he was between your legs. You felt like your head was spinning with pleasure as he hooked his arms around your thighs and happily settled between them. You felt like you were in some sugar cookie induced dream as you glanced down, catching his eager eyes watching every little move and reaction you made.

The fire was roaring a few feet away, loud and proud and yet, it was his touch and whispered words that made your whole body feel like lava was coursing through your veins. It was the way his tongue swiped and licked your needy pussy, the way his lips wrapped around your clit until your back was arching off the ground. It was the way Charles murmured soft praises as his hands reached out for yours, as he intertwined your fingers and softly squeezed as you came on his tongue once, twice until you felt like a pile of bones. 

It was the way he smiled down at you like his face wasn’t glistening with your release. The way he leaned down to kiss you with the taste of yourself still on his tongue. It was the way he was fully prepared to leave it there, let you rest, spend the rest of the night listening to the random rants he could coax out of you. 

Charles only let out a surprised noise when you pushed him onto his back, as you straddled him like you fantasised about earlier and reached between your bodies to squeeze his aching cock.

You knew Charles Leclerc was pretty, even in the days where you thought you despised the man. It was an undeniable fact that he was easy on the eyes, that he was gorgeous, that he had one of those faces that didn’t make him feel like he was a real human. 

But he was undoubtedly prettier when you were sinking down on his cock, walls squeezing him as his lips parted to let out a string of curse words in a handful of languages you didn’t speak. 

His hands were all over you, his lips never stopped moving  and all it took was a slight lapse in your tempo as you rocked back and forth for the boy to grip your hips, hold you up with ease and fuck up into you.

You were a puddle on his chest, his lips right beside your ear as he whispered filthy words to you. His hands and kisses were gentle when it felt like you could feel his cock in your throat from how deep inside he was. Charles Leclerc was a fucking enigma that you didn’t ever want to work out. 

And even after he did most of the work, even after he was breathless and flushed and fucked out, you were still the first thing on his mind. Your comfort, your pleasure, just you.

“Cherie,” he murmured softly, the accent seeming a little thicker as he spoke. “We should move to the bed.”

“No,” your words muffled as you nuzzled yourself further into his chest, content where you were with your legs tangled together and your naked bodies pressed together. “I’m comfy here. Beside you.”

“Okay,” was all he said in response as he pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head and pulled the blanket over the both of you before holding you closer—if that was even possible.

…

The first thing you noted when you woke up was how comfortable the ground felt beneath you.

The second thing was that you were no longer on the floor, but on a very comfy bed with a mattress that felt like it was a cloud.

Your hand blindly reached out to your side, expecting to feel a solid, warm body and probably a disgruntled curse from a certain Monegasque, but it never came. Your brows furrowed together, your hand continuing to pat the bed but it felt cold under your touch. 

For a short moment, you wondered if you had dreamt it all. You wondered if it was just a hyper-realistic dream where you swore you could still feel his touch on you, if it was all a part of your imagination. 

And then, from the other side of the door, you heard a voice. 

Your lips unknowingly tilted upwards as you sat up in bed, the sheet falling to your waist as you did. You stretched out your limbs, moving with no real rush as you grabbed the first piece of clothing you could find—a shirt of Charles’ that rested at your thighs—before making your way towards the door. 

You pushed the door open, expecting to find him lounging on the couch as he talked away to whoever he was on the phone with, but he wasn’t. You leaned your head out, peeking around to instead finding him on the balcony, the door still open to let his voice and a chilly breeze carry through into the suite.

You contemplated bracing the cold and making your way towards the balcony, to wrap your arms around his waist and settle into the warmth of him as he finished his call. Your hand moved to pull the door open wider, but then the muffled voice became actual words and you froze.

“She doesn’t mean anything to me. She never has. Why should I care now?”

You frowned a little. 

“I was doing her a favour, for no other reason.”

Your stomach churned, but you tried to ease your thoughts that were threatening to spiral.

“I’m not going to ever see her again after this trip, what’s the big deal anyways?”

But that? That was your final straw.

You felt sick to your stomach as you rushed around the room, staying as silent as you could as you redressed yourself. Your head felt like it was spinning, like you couldn’t even keep up with your own thoughts. You wanted to feel angry and spiteful, and maybe you did. 

But most of all, you just felt disappointed. 

In yourself. In the situation. In the man you thought Charles Leclerc was. 

You were fighting down the bile that felt like it was rising up your throat when you finally slipped out of his suite. He was still on the phone, still on the balcony when you left. And he probably wouldn’t even realise you were gone until you were safely back in your own room, where you could let everything hit you at once and let the tears threatening to spill finally fall. 

You didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe he was that kind of guy, another asshole that you had laid yourself out in front of, only for it to be thrown back in your face. You wanted to believe he was the gentleman you saw, touched and kissed last night. 

But the truth of the matter was that Charles Leclerc was just another name on your list of men who disappointed you, and you didn’t want to see his stupid, perfect face ever again.

…

Charles was absolutely fucking baffled. 

He felt like he was missing a key bit of information in his own life, and no matter how many times he replayed the last week or so in his head, he couldn’t work out what he was doing wrong. 

After a season of disappointing races and a team that played with his strategy like a fucking water balloon being thrown around by a group of toddlers, Charles wanted an escape. He wanted a place away from journalists and fans and everyone who even knew who he was. He just wanted a break from his own life.

The vacation at The Chalet was meant to just be that, but it became so much more.

For the first time in a long time, Charles felt like himself again. He felt happy. He was excited for the new year, he was excited for the future, he was excited for what possibly lay ahead of him. He felt like he was in some dream, but it wasn’t a dream. It was his reality and he woke up every day eager to know what amazing thing would happen to him—to know what amazing day he would have with you.

But that dream seemed to crumble into pieces when he realised you were ignoring him.

He didn’t try to take it too personally when he headed back into the bedroom that morning, his cheeks tinted pink from the cold weather but eager to spend a few lazy hours with you in between the sheets. He was eager to make you smile and maybe kiss you, maybe do something more.

But disappointment hit his chest when he saw the empty room. 

He just assured himself that you probably had to head back to your room before your family and friends woke up, or maybe you wanted to freshen up. He assured himself he would see you at breakfast and everything would be fine. 

But it wasn’t fine because you weren’t at breakfast. He waited in case you came at the end, but you didn’t. 

He waited for you at the usual spot in the foyer, but you never came.

He waited for you at lunch and dinner too, but you never came. 

The next day, he almost expected the same and was preparing himself to ask one of your friends if you were okay, but he was shocked to find you sitting in your usual place at breakfast. He smiled at you, something in his chest easing as he made a step in your direction, but the dirty glare you sent his way was enough to make him stop in his tracks. 

You didn’t turn up to the foyer that day either but between the dirty looks from you and the fact he was pretty sure Harper tried to trip him up at the coffee stand, he knew something was wrong. 

He just didn’t know what.

And every time he tried to get near you, tried to talk to you, it was a pathetically failed attempt that left that competitive streak inside his chest blaring with annoyance. 

You were ignoring him and he didn’t know why.

And then he saw it, three days after you started ignoring him. He was making his way into the dining hall, having just showered after a day in the slopes his friends dragged him out for, when he saw you and Evan by the buffet. 

Your eyes found his and something in his chest sparked. 

And then his eyes fell to the way your hand rested on Evan’s arm, the way you leaned into him as you laughed, the way Evan’s arm was thrown over your shoulder as you both walked back to your table. He watched as you both sat next to each other, so close your thighs were probably  pressed together under the table and something bitter settled in his stomach. 

He knew he had no real reason to be jealous. Especially between the fact that you yourself had assured him everything between you and Evan was platonic (if not familial) and the fact there was no real talk of anything being between you and himself other than a shitload of chemistry. 

But even logic didn’t stop the jealousy he felt.

His appetite was gone after that, as he turned around and headed back to his suite that felt a little bittersweet after the amazing night and shit morning he had with you. But he wasn’t in the mood to eat or pine for you from a distance. 

Charles was sick and tired of you ignoring him, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. 

And the first step in his plan had everything to do with the blond you were currently laughing and touching. He just needed to get Evan alone.

…

It was Christmas Eve when Charles’ plan finally reached its final step—to finally talk to you.

It felt like an odd sense of deja vu when you woke up that morning, making your way down for breakfast before you got ready for the slopes that day. You thought nothing off the weird looks Evan was giving you or the way he seemed giddier than usual, because truthfully it was no different to how Evan usually was on Christmas Eve. 

You put down his eagerness to head towards the slopes under the assumption he probably had some weird challenge for you and Harper at the top. You just hoped this one wouldn’t result in another sprained ankle. 

“I’m riding with you today, Stormy,” Evan said as the three of you headed towards the ski lift.

“Uh, get in line, loser,” Harper spoke up as she stood on the other side of you. “I called dibs.” 

Evan narrowed his eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Well, I did just now,” Harper retorted. 

“Does it really matter?” You questioned, amused as you glanced between the two of them.

“Yes!”

“No!” 

Harper and Evan turned to glare at each other, confusion from one of them and insistence from the other. However, you just laughed and shook your head. 

“Fine, first one to the lift wins!” 

You were already settled in the lift as you heard the two of them bickering to each other. You waited to see which one would win, to see who would settle in the spot next to you. However, what you failed to notice was the way Evan all but threw himself on top of his sister so she couldn’t reach the lift before someone else did. 

You turned, a smile on your face as you waited to greet the winning Montgomery, but instead you found yourself staring at a painfully familiar set of green eyes. 

And in an instant, your smile dropped at the sight of Charles Leclerc sitting next to you. 

But before you could even think about jumping off the lift and taking the next seat, the lift was already too high up for you to do anything about it. 

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he said to break the silence.

But you didn’t respond.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me but at least hear me out,” Charles continued, a hint of desperation in his voice. “This is all a misunderstanding.” 

You kept your gaze facing forward.

“Evan told me what you thought happened that morning.”

And just like that, your head snapped around to stare at him, a mix of emotions going through you right now—though the biggest was possibly Evan’s betrayal. 

“You weren’t lying when you said he was a big fan,” he said with a nervous laugh. “It didn’t actually take much for him to tell me why you’ve been ignoring me.”

“You used my friend?” You questioned, the bitterness and coldness in your voice evident.

“I asked and he gave me information,” Charles corrected before his shoulders sagged a bit. “Look, don’t blame him. He heard what I had to say and—”

“And I don’t care what you have to say so go talk to Evan about it,” you spat back at him, watching the way he winced at your words.

“Cherie—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Stormy—”

“And definitely don’t call me that.”

“Please,” Charles pleaded as he looked at you with wide eyes, ones that held so many emotions you did not want to see. “That phone call was not what you think.” 

You looked away at the mention of the phone call, something quite like anger and disgust bubbling inside you at the mere reminder of the words you heard that morning. “Just…stop it, Charles. I don’t care, okay? You go about your life and I’ll go about mine.”

“No,” he stated simply.

You scoffed. “What? You need another girl in another city to have fawning over you? The hundreds of others not enough?”

“No, because I am not interested in my life not having you in it. I am not interested in a hundred other girls.” The words were stated like they were facts. “Stormy, I just want you.”

You scoffed again but a hand tugging yours made you look over at Charles, fully prepared to pull your hand away. 

“I wasn’t talking about you on the phone that morning,” Charles quickly blurted out before you had a chance to say anything. “Everything you heard on the phone that morning, it wasn’t about you.”

You blinked.

“It was about Melanie.”

Your brows furrowed together, a crease forming between them that Charles had the urge to smooth out with his thumb, but he resisted.

“What?”

“She—” Charles paused for a moment, like he was trying to gather the correct words. “She’s not my friend, not really.”

You blinked again. “She’s not? But she acts—”

“She acts like we are, yes. She’s a friend of a friend, and that’s about all there is to her. She’s…uh, how do you say? She seems to have gained a crush on me? Or maybe it’s some weird obsession. I’m not quite sure,” Charles admitted with a frown. “She asked me out once, almost a year ago and I declined. But she has latched onto the group ever since and I couldn’t quite shake her off.”

You didn’t say anything, instead letting him continue. 

“She wasn’t even meant to be on this trip,” Charles confessed. “But she said to our mutual friend that she was alone this Christmas and…I just couldn’t say no, right? But she’s spent the last year acting like I didn’t reject her and I didn’t like the idea of being trapped up here with her. But even with all our other friends, she was always beside me. She was always there. And when she started to throw tantrums to our friends and make up stories after I started spending time with you, I had enough.”

Your lips parted slightly in shock.

“Turns out she told all our friends that we were together,” Charles said with a grimace. “That we wanted to keep it a secret from the media, and that meant I wanted to keep it from everyone. She tried to make it out like I was a monster to our friends when I started spending days with you. Thankfully, none of them believed a word she said but…it was just too much.”

“Oh.”

“That’s why you heard me ranting on the phone about not seeing her after this trip because I have no plans to be around her ever again and I made that clear to my friends. You can even ask them if you don’t believe me,” Charles said as he finally let out a long breath. He looked at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I would never say those things about you. Not when you might just be the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Your cheeks burned. “Charles—”

“I know you feel it too,” he continued, and that desperate note to his voice returned. “I know you’ve felt it all week. I know you felt it that night. I know you feel like this—us—could be something.”

“I’m such an idiot,” you muttered, closing your eyes as you realised the agonsing and the pain and the ignoring over the last few days could have been avoided if you stayed in the bedroom a little longer that morning. Or if you had just spoken to him instead of letting the pettiness take over.

“You had no reason to think otherwise about me, cherie, and I get that,” Charles said as he squeezed your hand, almost like a tester to see if you would pull away or not. But you didn’t. “But I want to change that. I want to explore this. I want to show you that I would never do that to you. I want to give you reasons to trust me.”

“I would like that,” you murmured in a soft voice, but Charles heard you loud and clear as he grinned at you. 

“Yeah? You don’t hate me still?” He questioned.

You laughed, shaking your head as you did. “I don’t think I ever hated you, Charles.”

“Good, it makes this easier then,” he said before he leaned in, his slightly chapped lips pressed against yours—and something about it felt like coming home. 

You sunk into his embrace, your hand coming up to cup his cheek like you needed to believe he was really there (even if the gloves made it a little awkward). But feeling him smile against your lips was assurance enough. 

“Merry Christmas Eve, Charles.” 

“Merry Christmas Eve, Stormy. I hope it’s one of many with you.” 

And maybe Charles Leclerc became another one of the many reasons you loved The Chalet.

.

[helaintoloki]

Now that we know how Ben was a bit rebellious when he was a teen, how are we feeling about a fic where he used to sneak out to meet with reader, who is very much a sunshine person?

a/n: ty for requesting and i hope you enjoy ! also to clarify the ben in this piece is the original ben and not the sparrow

warnings: language

summary: ben manages to sneak out and pay a visit to his favorite person

At the exact stroke of twelve o’clock, three pebbles are thrown against the glass of your window to alert you of the waiting presence below. You’re quick to drop the book you’d been reading and lift the glass to greet your midnight visitor who immediately begins to climb through and into your bedroom.

“You’re late,” you tell him with an impatient look as he finally sets foot on your plush rug.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Ben confesses apologetically before dusting himself off and removing his shoes. “Dad stayed up later than I thought he would.”

“What about Luther?”

“He swore to secrecy after I threatened to tell Allison he wet his pants last week because he couldn’t get his uniform off fast enough to use the bathroom,” the boy explains with a cheeky smile, laughing at the playful nudge you give him.

“That’s evil,” you scold him with a giggle that conveys your lack of conviction.

“Sometimes a man just has to resort to blackmailing his brother in order to successfully sneak out,” he expresses with an innocent shrug before enveloping your frame into a tight hug to emphasize his point. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. It’s been lonely without you around,” you admit as the ghost of a frown begins to form on your lips.

“Are your parents gone again?”

“Another business trip,” you confirm as nonchalantly as possible in hopes of masking your hurt at their neglect. “Won’t be home for at least two weeks, so it’s just me here.”

“I promise to sneak out and see you as much as I can,” Ben vows earnestly, carefully cupping your cheek in his hand and pulling your face closer to his own so that he may press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

“It isn’t so bad,” you admit with a lighthearted smile as you pull away from him and move towards your closet to retrieve something. “You want to see what I found at the bookstore today?”

Ben isn’t given a chance to answer your hypothetical question as you display the said item for him to see. It takes a moment for the boy to realize what it is he’s looking at, but once it processes an unamused huff of air leaves through his nostrils in response.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually spend money on that thing.”

“Technically I stole money from my mom’s purse to buy it, so no, I didn’t,” you correct him defensively before proudly holding up your purchase. “I figured if the real Ben can’t keep me company twenty-four-seven, then action figure Ben can.”

“That’s ridiculous!” He cries out indignantly before snatching the thing out of your grasp to scrutinize the details. “It doesn’t even look like me!”

“Of course it does!”

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Ben can only sigh and hand the doll back to you before moving to make himself comfortable on your bed. Having decided you’ve teased him enough for one night, you set the figure on your nightstand before moving to join him. It’s almost as if you naturally fit perfectly into his side when you curl up next to him and bask in the warmth of his arms around you. Nights like these have become more rare with time, so you like to make the most of it while you can.

“We should run away together,” you suggest casually after a comfortable bout of silence. You feel Ben’s chest rise beneath your fingertips with the amused laugh that leaves him in response.

“And where would we go?”

“Anywhere we want.”

“As enticing as that sounds, I can’t,” he reminds you. Frowning, you shift your frame and prop your head up on your hand so that you’re facing him.

“Why not?” You retort indignantly, almost offended by his immediate rejection. “My parents constantly forget that I exist and your dad is a complete asshole. Why should we stick around?”

“Look, my dad is a jerk, and I would love to just drop the whole super hero thing and never look back. But I can’t… I can’t just leave my siblings behind,” Ben explains gently while reaching out to push a stray strand of hair away from your face.

“So you’ll just wait for them to leave you behind instead?” You retort, aggrieved on his own behalf at the thought.

“They wouldn’t do that-“

“Five already did.”

A tense silence follows your words, and you bite your lip in regret at having let it slip. You know you’ve gone too far judging by the flash of hurt that passes on Ben’s face, and you’re quick to apologize for your lack of eloquent conversation skills.

“I don’t mean to be harsh,” you quietly clarify as you meet his understanding gaze. “I just don’t think it’s fair we both have to stick around and suffer because we got stuck with shitty parents. I want to get out of here, Ben. Don’t you?”

He pauses for a beat, his voice soft as he finally answers, “I do. And I promise you that one day we will. We just have to hold out for a little longer is all.”

“You swear?” You ask meekly, almost afraid he’ll change his mind and take it back. However, Ben takes your free hand in his own and gives it a reassuring squeeze before replying, “I swear on my life.”

Placated by the sincerity of his words, you’re happy to resume your previous position of being nestled into his side as he begins to tell you the latest tales of the Umbrella Academy, and you can live comfortably without the knowledge of knowing that Ben has made a promise he soon won’t be able to keep.

[ode2rin]

petty!rin is so baby girl i love writing him as much as i love clingy!rin | warnings: profanity and lil ooc | mentions of food

itoshi rin, likes to believe that he is one rational man. 

he truly is. he is a man grounded with rationality, the real definition of calm and quiet. he prides himself on his ability to be stoic and composed at all costs.

he is one to be blunt, approach what’s wrong head on with his words that bleeds. never to cower, never one to hesitate. 

truly indeed, itoshi rin is a rational man.

so, why the fuck is he in the kitchen, tightening all jars that he could see?

apparently, when rin is faced with the seemingly impossible mission of getting you to talk to him after a small (he thinks so) disagreement, all rationality goes out the window.

suddenly, he finds himself overcome with a desperate need to hear your voice, to mend whatever rift has come between you. and so, he does the only thing he can think of at this point: he heads to the kitchen.

there, he methodically tightens every jar he can find, each twist of the lid a small act of rebellion against his own calm demeanor. he puts your favorite snacks up high on the shelf, just out of reach, hoping that you'll come to him for help.

on a normal day, rin would never do this. this is nothing but a foolish, incredibly ridiculous, absurd plan. he would never do something like this, but he exhausted every rational option he had at his disposal. he already asked you if you wanted takeout (you just looked at him, you never say no to takeout), asked if you knew where his cleats were because he couldn't find them (of course he knows where they are), and his last resort was to play your favorite show in the living room in the hopes that you'd join him on the couch.

nothing worked. zero successful attempts. nada.

you are officially ignoring him for 5 hours and 36 minutes (not that he’s counting, the wall clock in the living room is just obnoxiously big for its purpose and it keeps reminding him of the time, yup, that must be it). 

and rin thinks if this goes on for much longer, you might suggest sleeping in the guest room out of stubborness. no, rin thought of the idea. 

there’s no way in hell would rin sleep away from you. that’s just vile torture in his book. a cold ass bed without you? sleep without you in his arms? (he might genuinely prefer to be locked in a room with shidou than have that). that is atrocious, he needs to prevent that from happening, or else he would really lose it.

seemingly content with his scheme, rin places himself on one of the bar stools at the kitchen countertop to wait, boring holes into the bedroom door you've isolated yourself in. if this doesn't work, pinning you down until you utter a word to him may be the next best (worst) option.

after what felt like an eternity (it was ten minutes, max) to rin, you finally emerged from your shared bedroom with a purpose, and that is to fill your grumbling stomach. making your way in the kitchen, you ignored how rin is intently watching every step you make. 

you open one of the cupboards to get your leftover bag of chips from yesterday, only to be met by an empty shelf. looking up, you see the said chips placed two shelves higher than usual. 

when did that even get there?

hastily, you reached out for a stool to reach it. rin can’t help but let out a silent huff at the sight of you standing on a stool. that stool must be fucking with him, because why is it conveniently there? 

rin shifts expectantly on his seat when he sees you looking for the jar of dip you always combine with your chips. and the heavens must be siding with him as he sees you annoyed and struggling to open the said dip.

“let me.”

you were about to deny his offer when you felt his chest already pressing on your back as he reached out for the culprit of your annoyance.

“thanks.” you timidly uttered, but rin didn’t move an inch from where he was pressing on you.

instead, rin tentatively wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your temple. you felt the side of his jaw on your temple, his other hand rubbing smooth circles on your shoulders, tapping on it three times.

you shut your eyes tightly at the feel of his touch, "rin," you started, but you didn't know how to continue. 

“i know. i was in the wrong,” he trailed off, tapping three times once again on your exposed collarbone as if the gesture was a language you two only understand, “i’m sorry, y/n,” he said, voice laced with remorse.

you looked over your shoulder to meet rin's gaze. his eyes were soft, and his expression held a hint of guilt that you rarely saw. he seemed to be waiting for your response, and you took a deep breath before answering.

“i only want what's best for you, rin. seeing you exhaust yourself like that hurts me,” you explained, turning to face him and resting your hands on his chest. “and i'm sorry for being immature and ignoring you. it wasn't the right way to handle things.”

immature? only if you knew.

he tightened his grip on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “i hate it when we fight," he mumbled, his voice muffled. “it hurts when you don’t look at me.”

taken aback by rin's confession, you struggled to find the right words to alleviate what you’ve done. instead, you tapped three times in his chest, right where his heart beats.

in which you earned a - “not more than i do,” reply from rin, suggesting he understood.

“as you should, rinnie.” you replied with a playful teasing smile.

ah, there it was - the smile rin loved so much. the smile that always promises him that it will be fine - you two will be fine.

if it meant earning that smile over and over again, rin wouldn’t mind throwing out every ounce of rationality from his body. 

he’ll never tell you about it though, you’d tease him to death. besides, if you knew, how could he use the same scheme again?

note. i love this trope in books so much that it's everything i think of lately (˘･_･˘)

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [5]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 9.4k

So I edited chapter 3 where Yoongi told Reader to wait till next year for their contract renewal because from the discourse on twt yesterday, they renewed their contract October later in 2018 (which is the year this is taking place).

Gonna stop yapping so here's a 9.4k chapter with a lot of explaining, i hope it all makes sense oh lord this chap is not beta read AT ALL. ALSO WTF IS WITH THE TAGS THEY'RE NOT WORKINGGGGGG

thank you all for your comments and likes, it keeps me going :DD

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

_____

Namjoon was a man of science.

He believes in everything that can be explained in a lengthy and intricately detailed book filled with an even more difficult terminologies and worded examinations backed up by photographic evidence to prove it. 

To him, if he didn't see it happen before his very eyes, it was fiction, a lie.

It's how it should be.

As a child, he frowned upon the heretics and the desperate, thanking a nonexistent god for the fruit of their hard work. He couldn’t fathom how they could weep so genuinely as they prayed on their knees for blessings that never come, and if gods were real, he could never understand how devoted they are for someone who turned a blind eye to the challenges they faced.

He never understood how the lonely could resort to immorality in their desperation for a soulmate, couldn't fathom how easily they shed their humanity for a morsel, a hint of that sense of belonging and importance being a tethered gave.

It was dumb.

Life doesn't revolve around soulmates, they should've tried other options instead of blaming the theoretical nirvana for their own misfortune.

Despite being a child born from two mates, he never believed in the concepts of soulmates, thinking it childish as it was an idea the lonely and the hopeless hung onto to feel better for themselves. He believed that his parents would have met either way without their soulmarks, would've fallen in love the same and bring him to life. 

Because they were meant to be, even without the marks to prove it.

Sure he wished to eventually settle down with someone who also loved him as his mother does with his father but he doesn't believe in the spiritual connection.

But science has nothing on the sensation he was feeling right now.

The moment the clock struck midnight, a heartbeat suddenly began to drum at the back of his head, but it was faint and muffled as if it was distant and came through multiple walls but he could hear its panicked pace echoing in his skull. In the silence you and Jungkook’s departure has left, Namjoon began to feel dread bubbling inside him. A tension slowly building up with the beat of the racing heart at the back of his head.

It felt like those slowly crescending notes of a horror movie's background music as the killer stalks nearer. There's a tension thickening but he's the only one who could feel it, could sense it coming.

It's making him nervous beyond belief how he doesn't know what is afoot.

A gasp tore through his thought process and he looked up to see his Yoongi hyung eyeing something invisible in his right hand, disbelief apparent in his wide eyes as the others turned to him with concerned curiosity.

But Namjoon already knew what it was, at least felt like he knew what it is, although he himself is incredulous.

He's read up everything that he could about soulmates in his teenage years wanting to refute his parents' insistence on how they wouldn't have clicked as well as they are without the soulmark yet none of them could explain how he just knows the heartbeat at the back of his head belonged to you.

________

Fate truly has a funny way of revealing who your soulmate is.

It was said that the sensation when you first meet your soulmate should be a wave of cold relief flushing all the worries out of your system. Your mother and Jihae told you stories of the sudden sense of belonging, like finding the last piece of the puzzle from a mere accidental brush of a hand with a stranger on the streets.

If it was in any other scenario, you would've agreed with them.

But as Jungkook raises both your hands to survey the skin for any mark, your world shrinks down like an air tight ziplock bag to only fit you and him. A low thrum resonated in the air, mellifluous and sweet, a direct contrast to the dull but racing heartbeat at the back of your head. Jolts of electricity vibrated under your skin starting from your joined hands and spreading across your muscles and lighting your nerve endings awake.

The walls around you closed in, not because it was Jungkook who you happened to be fated to. But because there's a thin, red thread tied around your pinkie.

A red string of fate.

And it's not tethered to Jungkook.

It goes behind you and you dread to know who it leads to.

There's a curious tug from down the line, the thread turning tangible at every pull and the urge to run away, to hide in the comforts of your home grew tenfold. Because you're sure the string leads to one of the boys.

People who became your closest companions after years of being their make-up artist. Half of which you've rejected before and four of them you've remained friends with. 

Isn't this a bit too much of a joke?

How funny it must've been for the divinities to watch you reject the men eventually revealed to be your soulmate. They must've cackled, pointing fingers and all, as they watched you reject them. You wouldn’t put it behind them to connect the end of your string to someone you’ve also turned down.

You watched Jungkook speedrun through the five stages of grief in a few seconds, face contorting every so often it made it hard to get a read on what he's feeling. He let out a shaky exhale as he came to, doe eyes meeting yours with an incredulous sheen. 

His continuous silence stuffed cottons into your throat, the conflicted expression he has settled on only furthering the panic in your chest. 

You retract your hand but he was faster, catching your wrist in a tighter grip. There's a question hanging from his lips but they cease to exist the moment you both see the mark on your finger.

In the space between your index and middle finger lies a black quarter note, inked into the skin of your middle. The tint bold and black. 

Raising his own hand, your eyes landed on the same pattern etched on his on the opposite side. As if hypnotized, he intertwined his fingers and the same gentle thrum came back, along with a comforting warmth echoing from your soulmate mark and spreading throughout your body, almost rendering you boneless from how intense yet easily it relieved you of the stress on your body.

You weren't the only one affected by its calming properties. The frustration and anger in Jungkook's from earlier now erased from his face, as if it was never there. Acceptance.

Just like that, the problem is solved; and that unsettles you.

“Noona… Wh-what is happening?”

His voice is so small, shaky and hopeful . Eyes growing larger as he surveys your soulmate marks with a joyful disbelief. He untangled your hand and pulled the soulmark closer to his eye. Curiously, Jungkook hesitantly taps the musical note and shivered with you when skin touched skin.

You both suck in a deep breath, freezing at the foreign sensation it brought you both before a smile that stretches high up to the heavens brightens his face.

Jungkook's eyes were glazed with unshed tears when you found them once more, breath shaky as he placed a kiss onto your knuckles. The sensation of his lips on your skin sending jolts down your spine.

“Noona, we're soulmates.”

You didn't even hear the sound of footsteps running up the stairs nor Taehyung calling you both until he got close, hand landing on your shoulder and effectively snapping you out of your trance.

“Are you guys okay? Not too long ago you were at each other's throat and now—woah!”

A shrill of pleasure shocks your body, vision flashing white and you fall. If it wasn't for Jungkook, you would've collapsed boneless next to Taehyung who's gasping on the floor, hand clutching his heart as he heaved. Jungkook let you lean your body weight on him once you stood up again. Arms wrapping around your waist protectively as your brain catches up.

A sharp gasp from Jungkook kick starts your already racing heart, panic flushing out whatever has happened earlier.

But that wasn't the thing that made your head pulse.

It was the shaky utterance of your name and looking up at Jungkook only to be distracted by the faint glow of blue in the shape of a hand on your shoulder. The spot where Taehyung had last touched you.

In the dimness of the hallway, it gleamed a soft shade of purple like a splatter of glow in the dark paint. Your head snapped back to Taehyung who had pushed himself to sit up, cradling his head while murmuring intelligible under his breath until he looked up and his jaw fell .

“I-Is that…?”

“Hyung, what is the meaning of this?”

Taehyung turned to the maknae, spluttering. “I-I don't even… Ho-how is this even possible?”

How is it possible to feel like the world has pulled a carpet from under you while also feeling like you're laying on cloud 9?

Three soulmates.

Two of them being people you once rejected, one of them unknown but the string suspiciously led downstairs where the rest of the boys are.

You feel like passing out just to avoid the talk it'll entail. Maybe you should run at the wall and hope you'll hit your head hard enough to guarantee amnesia.

“Noona, you're seeing this too right?” 

Taehyung is now standing in front of you, bewilderment still dancing in his eyes as he traced the already fading handprint and a small line of purple followed. He grinned and it's probably the happiest one you've ever seen him wear, eyes misty and overflowing with joy as he giggled, the sound almost reminiscent of an excited child.

Jungkook’s arm tightened around you.

“Wh-why do you have paint on noona’s shoulder? Hyung?” Jungkook’s voice shakes from the weight of the revelation hanging above his head. “Are we sharing noona?”

“GUYS! YOONGI HYUNG GOT A SOULMATE!”

Holy shit.

Unlike you who's despairing to see the man on the other side of the thread, Taehyung was beyond ecstatic.

“No fucking way. I gotta see this.”

Taehyung dragged you to the stairs when your legs refused to move, uprooting you from where you leaned onto Jungkook's side. Your stomach churned at how lighter the strings felt in your pinkie and a tad tighter as the distance shortened.

There's a sudden heartbeat racing in your ears but it sounds far away and it doesn't sync with the pulse you feel in your temples. You couldn't dwell on it for long before you're faced with the man at the other end of the line.

They said it all started with their eldest but unbeknownst to them, he was the first to notice how your eyes would light up as if it held the entire galaxy, how you’d laugh and he thought it sounded like the sweetest jingles of wedding bells to his ears. 

Seokjin might be their eldest but he was the beginning of it all.

In his twenty five years of existence on this damned planet, Min Yoongi has never asked for much, content with whatever life throws at him.

Even with his harsh upbringing, he never kept what he has from others, especially since he met his brothers. He'd willingly ripped off the cloth from his back to keep them warm and plugged their ears with both his hands so they couldn’t hear the hateful words thrown at them at debut, even if it cost of being exposed to them instead. But he couldn't care less, Yoongi loves them with all his heart.

There's nothing in the world that could ever stop him from bending over backwards just so the others could live peacefully.

When his pockets grew heavier with age, this trait only bloomed further into millions donated anonymously to hospitals and charities he could stumble upon. 

To everyone, especially his brothers, he’s a generous man.

Until you strode into his life and haunted him in his waking days with the ghost of your touch caressing his face.

Min Yoongi never wants yet he yearned, he craved to feel the softness of your skin under his fingertips, to taste your lips and discover if you tasted as sweet as you smell, to run his hand through your hair as to know if it's as soft as it looked under the soft glow of the room. 

And for once in his life, he wanted to be selfish.

Being with you makes him want to believe, want to hope that something nonsensical as the concept of soulmates is true.

Min Yoongi wasn’t a believer of such optimism because his mother wasn’t. She passed down her resentment for the fates for turning a blind eye on her onto her next of kin. She was bitter from being untethered and barred her children from subjecting themselves to whimsical thoughts of fates and destinies. But now that you’ve come and bursted through the iron doors of his heart, he started to wonder if the divine had purposely tripped you in front of the BigHit building to be discovered by their oldest make-up noona and lead you to them.

He knew they did, could feel it within him. 

There was something different about you on the first day you've both met, something that he couldn't find in others and his mind answered almost immediately.

Soulmate.

You who shined even without the help of others, who stood out like the beacon of light in the shady pits of this world, he couldn’t dare face you as someone whose future is as dim as the blasted world he cursed out. With nothing to offer, he strived to be the best, to crawl to the top whatever it takes.

He couldn't show you a pathetic side of him, couldn't step forward with a bleak future to offer. Yoongi wouldn't be able to bear it if you were to grow miserable beside him.

Because for you, he'd stop at nothing to hand everything you'd ever lay your eyes on wrapped in a pretty bow of the most expensive quality and tucked neatly behind soft colored gift wrappers.

For years, Min Yoongi hid.

What else could he do when most of his brothers also vied for your attention? He loved you all with all his heart, couldn't bear the thought of ever hurting any of you for his selfish desires. So he did what he thought was best, step back and watch from the sidelines.

And he was fine with that.

He thinks himself a patient man. A trait forged by years of encountering nagging customers and demanding adults from working as a delivery boy. Yet all it took was a couple dozen bottles of Soju and a warm atmosphere to accidentally confess his feelings for you. Ashamed and already knowing what his hyung has received as an answer, he puts on a mask the next day and acts.

He did it so well you were convinced he wasn't kidding by forgetting last night's mistakes and swallowing up the disappointment when you didn’t bother asking him again and acted like nothing ever happened.

But it's okay, Min Yoongi is a patient man, he can wait.

So when you appeared before him, a red string tied prettily around your pinkie with the thread leading back to his own, he was beyond euphoric .

He felt like he could climb the highest summit bare in record speed with no equipment and only the warmth of the new bond.

The moment you all appeared in the living room with your shoulder and linked hands glowing purple, all hell broke loose. You didn't even get to look at Yoongi’s reaction when everyone was exploding around you, running to look at the evidence of your connection to Taehyung up close.

“Holy shit!”

“What the fuck?!”

“You guys are connected?!”

“What the fuck is happening right now?!”

Taehyung, despite being the second guy discovering himself as your soulmate, kept a smug smile hovered protectively behind you, hands planted on your shoulders and pushing his hyungs a few steps away to keep them from overwhelming you.

Everyone surrounding you had varying reactions even then, Namjoon kept his distance but hovered over behind his brothers with his eyebrows furrowed, staring with his calculating gaze and the heartbeat echoing at the back of your head grow rampant. 

You didn’t dare look at Seokjin, whose gaze weighed heavily with hurt and disappointment, penetrated through your skin, especially when you heard him run upstairs, and the door of his room slams shut.

He who had confessed first, had continued to love you even when you had thought he had moved on, somehow didn’t make the cut. Another cruel joke the fates have played.

It was Jimin who snapped you out of the trance when he grazed the side of your neck and flinched back when swirls of gold erupted from the spot he ghosted over before both your knees buckled. The gleaming gold ink spinning a pretty vine-like twirl before sinking back into your skin.

If the room was loud earlier, it has erupted into a mass hysteria now.

Because four out of your seven bosses turn out to be tethered to you. Three who you had rejected before and one who has never shown any romantic interest in you.

How funny was it for the universe to link you to the same men you've rejected for the fear of ruining the amazing brotherhood they've built from years of hard work and tears?

The sensation of two cascading waves of calmness from the bonds trying to soothe the ever growing dread clashed against each other made your stomach churn. Your headache has evolved into a pulsing one before you felt a tug on the string. From the revelation to the onslaught of feelings attacking and fighting off your initial panic, your body struggled to keep up with its conflicting emotions.

You wanted to run, to hide from their gaze, to put an end to the conflicted mess of emotions being forced into you and surfacing along with your thoughts.

Jimin has refrained from touching you since earlier, his beautiful face now contorted into concern, his soft eyes seeing past the fog in yours while the world continues around you. He stares at you as if trying to decipher something, as if he could somehow feel how overwhelmed you are.

He opened his mouth to say something, his hands already reaching to pull Taehyung and Jungkook away from you when a voice broke through the chatter.

“You're crowding her too much!”

Namjoon’s hands were steadying when he held your shoulders, like water in a desert, like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. With their leader stepping in, all words fell into a hush and for the first time since the chaos, it was silent; save for the slowing rhythms of two heartbeats thudding in your head.

If Taehyung and Jungkook's touch felt like a jolt of energy and Jimin was rejuvenating and healing, Namjoon had the ability to kill the noise in your mind with eye contact alone.

Peering deeper into his gaze, your breath stutters because the knowing glint within them has confirmed another thought of yours. Shared heartbeats . Suddenly the other beat in your head sounded clearer, more present along with your thoughts.

A fifth soulmate.

What the fuck.

“Hyung, are you sober enough to drive?”

Hoseok turns to him, face turning serious as he glances at you once more before nodding. 

“I’ll get her home, I didn't drink much anyways.”

It felt burdensome to leave such a life-altering problem for them to handle while you cower in their spare bedroom, trying to hide from the reality that you might be linked to all seven of them. 

The reassuring squeeze on your shoulders brought you back from the guilty trans you’ve submerged into and was faced with Namjoon's kind eyes and smile.

“Go home noona, we'll handle it from here.”

“You sure?”

He nods. “I know this is overwhelming so I want you to go rest and let me do the planning and talking, alright?”

When you didn’t respond, Namjoon wrapped his arms around you. There’s hesitance in how his movement stuttered, could hear him ponder as he pulled you flush to his chest, afraid of affecting you like the maknaes had but when his touch didn’t evoke the staggering flood of euphoria, he grew more sure of his movements.

With a kiss on your head, he unwraps himself from you and gently guides you back to Hoseok who’s now standing outside the open door of their dorm. His eyes were glued onto you, following your form as you near him but somehow, it felt like he was staring past through you and into the void.

Walking to the car was a silent affair and you don’t know if you rather have Hoseok being quiet or not.

It was bearable when he turned on the radio and a song that has no connection to the boys plays, not that it ever stopped the thoughts constantly spawning from the crevices of your mind.

When you had asked the fates for a soulmate, had you sounded so desperate that they'd given you five?

You’ve heard of three souls connected, hell, Yeonjun is a part of a five-way soulmate link; Interlinked, is what they’re called. Everyone in the group has their own unique mark with each member which usually led to constant overstimulation in the beginning, which made the company put them on medications until their bond settles a year later.

Even today, there are times where they still get affected by their bonds, although not as often as it used to. It was a wonder how there haven't been investigations put on BigHit with how often the five had to be sent to the hospital for soulbond hyperactivity at least once a week for a whole year.

But a nexus between six people, five connected to one. That is unheard of, the rarest even.

Five soulmates yet none of those were Seokjin. Someone who had stuck with you since the first day, the first to confess, and the one who remained loyal, wasn’t tethered to you.

“Hoba?’

“Yes, noona?” 

He sounded guarded, his face ironed into a neutral, more serious expression as he slowed as the traffic light went red.

“What’s gonna happen now?”

He bit his lower lip as he pondered, thumbs tapping incessantly on the wheel before he spoke.

“We're gonna have to update your statuses in the DFR, but I doubt the company will make it public just yet. There's nothing also in our contract that prohibits us from pursuing a relationship with our soulmates if we ever come across them so you're good on that front.”

You notice how he excluded himself from the Nexus bond and you feel a pinch on your heart at how formal he has become, as if he’s already put up a wall between you both.

“We'll probably have a long talk about it once I get back but I doubt they'd wait that long for me. You’re probably wouldn't be allowed to touch Jimin and Taehyung anymore when you're working because your soulmarks are very obvious and I know you don't want—”

“Y-You don't think you're also…”

Silence followed as he adjusted himself in his seat as the car began to move again, his hands drumming on the wheel halts as the facade he's wearing shattered for a moment and his eyes grew foggy, clouded by a deep shade of blue.

Under the passing warm lights of the streetlights overhead, Hoseok has never looked more devastated to you than he does now.

You had never noticed it, he has always been open with his affections to his friends so you never thought of it as anything but his usual touchiness. He shows his care for you in the same way he does with his brothers, so paid it no need and brushed it off.

How could Soobin notice it? What had he seen that you missed?

“If I was, I would've felt something different but here we are.” He forces out a laugh before glancing at you and offering a hand. You notice how his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. “We're still the bestest of friends even without the mark, right?”

Hesitantly, you took it.

The moment your fingers wrapped around his Hoseok immediately takes his hand back in favor of holding the brake between you both.

You try to not let his aversion to touch affect you. It was understandable why he isn’t touching you as he always had. New soulbonds are fickle, there’s been multiple reports where people are rushed into ER after brushing their hands against strangers and had been in excruciating pain from soulbond strain.

Their new bodies had thought they were denying destiny and had punished them. It was ridiculous.

But for him to completely retreat to himself, visibly putting up a tall wall between you both is a different kind of pain. For Hoseok, someone who has never had to restrain himself from holding your hands or hugging you whenever he's excited, to step back hurts you more than you thought it would.

“Noona, we’re here.”

As you left the car, you pondered on what to say to him. What could you even tell him?

Do you even say you're sorry he's not one of your soulmates or would that sound mocking?

Should you say that you had wished once that he becomes tethered to you or would that be rubbing salt on the wound?

But before you could even turn around and say your goodbyes, the moment the door was closed, Hoseok drove off. 

Waking up was dreadful.

It felt more exhausting and daring than it had yesterday when you were going to your third date with Guwon. Sleeping was difficult, you could feel Yoongi touch the string from miles away, eyes flying open whenever you felt the thread become tangible and gently glow in the darkness of your room.

It wasn't his soul-link alone that disturbed you, Namjoon’s heartbeat constantly changed rhythm although it was faint enough to blend into the background with the rumble of the air conditioner. From the nervous gallops to the calmer but deeper thuds whenever he seems to drown himself in his own thoughts.

You had research about your soul links when you grew restless in your bed, obsessed over the fact there's little to no information on your and Jimin's mark, trying to ignore the concerned messages from your mother and sister. They were asking about Guwon and why you decided to end things. You know that you should explain, you at least owe your mother the reason why you had decided to stop seeing the lawyer but you couldn't.

After weeks of her constant questioning and spamming links of wedding organizers and dressmakers, you couldn't find the courage to face your mother.

Not that it matters anymore though, not after last night.

Would you send her to an early grave once you tell her the news? How do you even break the news to your parents? Hi mom, I'm sorry I've been ignoring you yesterday. Yes, I stopped seeing Guwon but hey, I found you five new son-in-laws and they happen to be the members of the world's biggest boyband so don't be mad yeah?

She might just make true to her threat of hanging you upside down on a sack on your porch back in the province.

The same thought had led you to realizing how close you were to being engaged with Guwon in Jeju only to find out the next day who your soulmates were. 

When you trudged to the bathroom, exhaustion clung and weighed your bones but you excused it to your shitty sleep.

Not once has any of the boys reached out to you the whole night, the silence from Seokjin carving a hollowness in your chest. You know that they're busy handling the grunt and paperworks due today but to have not a single text in the groupchat made dread crawl up within you.

So when the door rang a quarter to nine, you jumped.

The door opens and Namjoon steps into your living room with Seokjin following closely behind him, expression guarded and eyes averted while the former approaches you. Both their eyes are swollen, no doubt from a sleepless night except Seokjin's looks far puffier than the other.

“Hi noona,” Namjoon began, voice soft as ever as he approached you to wrap his arms around you and you let him. “Hyung’s here with me to drive you to the DFR, the others went first since we decided that it's better if you're not lumped up with all your soulmates in one small space so it's just us three today.”

“Have you eaten?” Seokjin says, unmoving from where he stands a step away from the door, guarded and stiff, as if trying to meld himself into the wood.

His voice is hoarse and he looked more worn than you've ever seen him yet he managed to sound soft and put on the smallest of smiles. Your heart twinges.

“I haven't, you guys didn't tell me when we were going to have the bond registered.”

Namjoon sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “Sorry about that. We got busy discussing how we'll be moving forward, the company has already cleared out the office and as Hobi-hyung might've told you, they're doing everything they can to keep this under wraps for now.”

“There’s unfortunately no time for take-outs due to the time crunch, I doubt you guys will be out by twelve but I think we can all go for a good, filling lunch.”

“Jinnie, are you okay?”

The words slipped out of your lips before you could realize it had. His eyes widened for a fracture, taken aback before a sad smile stretched his lips.

“I will be, don't worry.”

Namjoon claps his hands abruptly, cutting through the air as he forces out a grin. “Alright, let's be on our way.”

“What about the family dinners?” You pushed on.

“We'll tell them the truth. I can't exactly bring you to family dinners as my fake girlfriend anymore now, can I?”

What started as Jin needing your help in stopping vulture-like aunties trying to introduce their daughters to him, grew far more serious when Mrs. Kim began to invite you annually to their family reunion dinners and had begun sending you the occasional gift boxes from her trips abroad. You tried giving them to Jin when the first box came but he insisted you keep them anyway. It made you feel guilty for tricking his family, especially his mother, but Jin needed your help in warding off the bad energy .

“We told hyung that once the bond gets stable next year, you can continue attending them.” Namjoon adds.

“Obviously I denied, what a stupid idea.” Seokjin immediately responds with a scoff and Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Why are you even paired with them when they disregard your safety like this? Really, why would you guys even suggest that?”

Namjoon turns to him with a look that seems to ask ‘do you really want me to answer that?’ and Seokjin pursed his lips in a straight line. You laughed.

It was a relief to see that nothing has changed within their dynamics. You had feared the day everyone would turn against each other because of you. It had made you wary of how much time you spend with a member one on one, scared the others would think of it as picking favorites. 

To see Seokjin, the one you have no doubt been more devastated than Hoseok, be making light hearted jokes about the soulmarks lifted off a huge weight from your shoulders.

“I hope auntie won't take it to heart. You were a nice boyfriend but you kept nagging me to pay a nonsense debt.”

“You still have a balance to settle with me, don't forget that,” He jokes. “But seriously, mom would be sad, she likes you better than me.”

Namjoon's phone pings, the sound silencing you both. With a hissed apology, he turned his attention to the device and read the notification on his lock screen before turning to you.

“We need to get going soon. Hobi hyung said Yoongi hyung and Jimin just got called up.”

“Wait, I haven't showered yet! You guys didn't even warn me!”

But as you move to run back to your room, Namjoon stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“It's fine, noona.”

“It's not like we haven't seen you with unwashed hair for two days straight.”

“Hey that was one time!” You exclaimed, indignant.

“What was the longest day, hyung?” Namjoon clicks his fingers, a small teasing grin tugging his lips.

“Three days I think?”

“I thought it was a week?”

“So that's why she looked so greasy.” 

Their laughter when you slapped both their arms twinkled in your ears. The sound warming your chest but also grating your gears at the same time. 

Fresher than you had been earlier, you all arrive at the DFA an hour later. Spending thirty preparing, another half traveling to the heart of Seoul.

There's already a few bodyguards dressed in civilian wear lingering outside the office. Mr. Lee approached the car once the three of you began to step out before ushering all of you inside the building with a few other guards.

Save for the receptionists on the other side of the counter placed in the dead middle of the room, the lobby was empty. Sejin comes out from the wide open arch on the right, a man dressed in neatly ironed and a tailored black suit following behind him. 

“Let's all move to where the rest are. We couldn't rent the building for the whole day so they’ll be opening to the general public soon but we were allowed to have one floor to ourselves.”

None of you objects and followed him to the elevator and to the second floor where you were immediately greeted by Taehyung, Hoseok and Jungkook sitting on the blue plastic seats clustered by both sides of the walls.

When the metal doors parts open, their heads turn and immediately, Taehyung stands and runs up to you with arms wide.

Namjoon and Seokjin weren't able to react fast enough. The moment Taehyung wrapped himself around you, a powerful wave of bliss crashed over you and your legs gave out. They all screamed your name as you fell but they were muffled, hands grabbed onto whatever they could in the haste of catching you.

In the bleariness of your vision, you could make out Taehyung narrowly avoiding crumpling onto the floor when someone caught him by the waist.

“...That was so stupid of you…”

“...Why…Taehyung?...”

“Noona?”

The haze clears and you find yourself being carried by Seokjin into the nearest doctor’s office. You hear the door open before Yoongi’s exasperated but concerned voice follows.

“What the hell happened now?”

“Taehyung forgot they're soulmates and hugged her.”

“Fuckin—Just get her inside.”

“Noona, I’m so sorry!”

Seokjin lets you down on a soft cushioned armchair and you find yourself staring back at a bespectacled woman with hair so straight you wonder how Yoongi didn't feel exorcized at the sight of it.

She didn't waste any time and she rose from her seat to inject something in your arm. 

“What a wild introduction this is. First you come in with five soulmates, a Nexus group and one of them having Healing Touch, and as if that's not intriguing enough, you faint after a touch from Love Prints! So, very interesting!”

She returns to her seat as the haze ebbs away from your vision with the glowing purple paint on your torso.

“I guess it's true that all soul specialists are… enthusiastic .”

“Only on the right things, don't worry we don't bite.”

There's almost a manic look in her eyes as she stares at you with a fascination only seen in a mad geologist who had found a new and infinitely curious piece of history in the dirt. Seokjin pats your shoulders, squeezing it assuringly for the last time before he disappears out the door.

“So, how's this gonna go?”

Doctor Gwak Jihye was a woman with flat light brown hair almost the same height as you. There's narrow rectangle glasses sitting neatly on the bridge of her nose and a notable beauty mark placed on the apple of her right cheekbones. Black vine-like tattoos peaked out of her cream turtleneck, a soulmark you guessed once you saw the ring on her finger.

The band is as dark as the night yet gleaned like stars under the bright light of the room with three deep blue sapphires engraved on the front. A ring made from soul metal created and only used by the tethered. 

She wore the standard white coat of every doctor you’ve ever met with the exception of the detailed pin of two white strings knotted together inside a heart and a red cross placed in the middle of it all.

“We'll do the basic health checks, the measurements and all the like, nothing too difficult. Then we educate you on every soulmark you have. You are aware of what you have with the five of them, correct?”

She rapid fires and you're left agape, mouth closing and open as your brain catches up. The doctor raised an eyebrow and you nod. With that, she motions to the scales behind you as she stands. You followed the woman to the stadiometer placed next to the door. 

Once she was done taking your measurements down, you both returned to her desk where she asked you a few questions about your allergies and recent medical history. It was an easy procedure, almost boring. The ever so present exhaustion is still weighing your bones, you yawned. Staying awake felt like a challenge and you don't doubt she had noticed this when she placed down her board to open her drawer.

“You are feeling more exhausted than before, am I correct in assuming this?”

“Yes…?”

She hummed when she found what she was looking for and placed the thick white medicine bottle in front of you.

“This should help your body get used to the bonds whenever you touch Jimin or Taehyung. The exhaustion is normal since you live far from them but once you move in and are surrounded by your soulmates, you should feel more energized.”

Amoneuron , it reads on the label. Curious, you twist the lid open to see what might just be a hundred of blush pink colored round pills.

“With that out of the way, from what I've heard from Yoongi, you've researched every soulmark there is at one point in your life but I doubt that you don't have any questions,” She fished out the yellow folder under her board and opened it, not knowing how surprised you are to hear Yoongi’s involvement. “Anything you'd like to know about?”

Your mind takes you back to the empty search and countless ‘Did you mean…?’ questions on every result. Jimin and your marks never yielded any results, none in Naver and none in Google. 

You tried finding it in your books but none of them were ever close to the touch activated golden swirls and the feeling of being rejuvenated.

“I tried researching what could be Jimin and I’s soulmark but I couldn't find one, is it that rare of a mark?”

She nods. “ Healing touch , there's so little information of that type of mark since the last recorded case can be traced back to 1934.”

Your eyes widen, surprised by how rare of a mark you share with Jimin.

“Which meant if there were soul-link related sickness between you, I fear that we won't be much of help as we don't know much about Healing Touch other than mates who has it doesn't get hungry, thirsty nor need much sleep if they interacted enough,” She gauges your reaction, when she saw your confusion she continues. “By interacting enough, I don't mean hugs or hand holding, I mean kisses and sex.”

You began to cough violently, choking on your saliva at her bluntness, cheeks burning bright but she ignored you and continued.

“Hand holding and hugs can only guarantee better stamina and endurance, even being close enough can make the other have a bottomless energy. As this concerns a highly valued individual, our team is already attempting to acquire more information about Healing Touch but I don’t have an estimated time on when we’ll be ready to share our findings, please understand that we are also surprised by this mark’s sudden revival.” She smiled. “Anything else you'd like to ask?”

“Are Taehyung and Jimin's marks somehow similar? I remember feeling… rejuvenated whenever the both of them touched me but then got overstimulated.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“No, Taehyung’s touch shouldn’t affect you outside of the first touch nor should you be suffering from soulbond hyperactivity from both of them. When Seokjin had carried you in, what exactly happened beforehand?”

“When Taehyung hugged me again not too long ago, we experienced soulbond hyperactivity.”

“Huh.” Was all she replied with, hand scribbling furiously on her notes. You had the urge to sit up a little straight and take a peak at what she’s writing down so passionately but decided against it, fearing what you might learn from it.

“Any guesses on what could have caused this?”

“It's hard to say much for now since Healing Touch is a very rare mark. But I can hazard a guess and say that due to their similar nature being touch-activated marks and Healing Touch being as powerful as it is, it had influenced Love Print somehow.” 

If her words were anything to go by, If Jimin and your soulmark does greatly affect both your livelihoods by practically rendering you both immortals by eliminating the need for food, sleep, and water as long as the needed affection level is met; not to mention, as long as the both of you are close enough, exhaustion is nothing but a word.

And if Taehyung’s soulmark has evolved due to Healing Touch, then wouldn’t the benefits, at least the bare bones of them, extend to him as well?

You already sense the building headache you’re about to experience in the future with three—including Jungkook whose energy is already a thousand times more of a kid in a toy store—bouncy men with the energy of a toddler in a sugar rush. In advance, you began to pray internally for Namjoon, Sejin, and Seokjin’s sanity.

“It seems that I am due to share notes with the doctor who had interviewed Jimin,” She says as she slams close the cover of her journal with a smile. “This could lead to a breakthrough in the future, with both of your permissions, we would like to study your soulmark more intimately.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it but my soulmate might not share the sentiment. The company as well.”

“Your soulmarks could very well lead up to the discovery of the cure to an incurable disease, I doubt he would decline such a possibility.”

You don’t doubt the possibility of your soulmark being the answer to the long time issue of something as fatal as cancer or dementia but the prospect of being examined, had made you feel uncomfortable. To be under intense scrutiny and possibly put under a specific diet to tailor to their needs—especially when Jimin had only recently stopped caring about his body image—had made you more unwilling to participate.

You’d spare a few vials of blood since your bond can regenerate it back in record time but a prolonged trial is definitely a no.

“Why did it manifest now? After all those years, why now?” You ask abruptly, trying to change the subject. You hoped she would take the bait and luckily, she did with a defeated sigh.

The answer to your question is already solved, it was simple.

“As you know, once we hit the age of 16, the chances of meeting our soulmates goes up to 10% and will gain the same amount the next year will continue on till it hits a hundred on the 26th and the chances of manifesting a mark stops on the 27th,” You nod, feigning ignorance and she continues. “The Nexus connection had to wait for Jungkook to show which had put yours and the rest to a state of dormancy. So when he turned 21, with half a hundred chance, he finally got a mark and here we are.”

You stand and bow, not wanting to leave any free millisecond where she could try continuing to pressure you into agreeing into their research.

“Thank you so much for your insight, Dr. Gwak.”

She looked incredulous and surprised by your sudden actions before returning the gesture.

“It’s a pleasure to be able to foresee a unique connection such as yours, Ms. Y/n. I hope you all the best.”

With that, you leave the room in a haste and let out the biggest exhale once the door behind you closes.

You hear the soft murmurs of voice just around the corner where you guessed you’ll find everyone save for Namjoon who must’ve been called after you had been carried in by Seokjin. But when one door closes, another opens. There’s still a few things you’re due today, a talk with the inner circle of the company, talking with the legal team to figure out who else can know the connection outside of your Nexus, and how you’ll be continuing working as their make-up artist.

There’s a tug down the thread and you look down at your pinkie to see the line turn tangible and vibrant before a wave of concern floods your system.

Tentatively, you twirled the string around your finger and the headache fades. You watch as it glows brighter, livelier with both hosts touching it before tugging it back twice. Instantly, Yoongi responds with another. You expected the string to dim, for him to let go but it remained vibrant under both of your touch.

The dull ache at the back of your head returns.

“Are you the lady with the Healing Touch soulmark?”

You jumped back to see an old woman, around the age of sixty, peering up at you with a gentle smile playing on her lips. She dons the same white coat Dr. Gwak wears the same pin of a soul specialist on the lapel and her name tag displayed on her breast pocket.

Shin Sun-young , it reads.

“In my years of being a specialist, I've never seen so many souls connected to one so I'm sorry if I'm a bit much, I'm very curious how it must feel. Having one is already overwhelming for me, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling now.”

“Yeah it's a bit much sometimes… I had three of them touch me all at the same time and I almost fainted. I don't know how I can deal with it.”

“We have some medicines for that but I’m sure you already know that and have been prescribed right. It’ll dull up your senses till the first year then you can stop taking it.”

She pats your back as you both walk off the sides and you find your soulmates sitting obediently down the hall. Jimin was lying on one cluster of seats in front of the others with an arm over his eyes and the other pinched into a fist on top of his stomach while the rest of the boys squeezed together into the five seats on the opposite wall. 

You notice the missing presence of their eldest but shrugged it off, guessing that he must've wandered off to find the bathroom or a vending machine.

“I hope it goes well for you seven, I'm sure they'll treat you so well.”

Your head snaps to her. “Seven?”

“Oh? Am I wrong? I thought all of those boys are tethered to you. Forgive this old soul.”

A suspicious voice told you that she had intentionally guessed wrong to fish for information but you tampered it down, giving the curious woman the benefit of a doubt. Soul specialists have the reputation of being knowledge-driven crazy people with barely any other qualifying trait other than their unusual obsession with soulmates after all and this lady might just be one of the people that fits the bill.

“Hoseok and Jin, their eldest who has gone somewhere, aren't tethered to me. There's no sign of any marks manifesting and we just assumed the worst.”

You hated how you sounded so dejected. You must’ve sounded so greedy to the lady for wanting to have your seven friends to be yours, as if you even deserve Seokjin’s unfaltering love.

She hums. “Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Dear, everything in the world is advanced now. They could have their blood tested to see if there's a possibility that they're also tethered to you.”

You were reminded of the times where you began to dread your birthdays when you should've been celebrating, the desperation before the abrupt descend of defeat on your birthday this year when you finally realize that you weren't 

“How is that possible? Why now? We've had years of technological evolution but something like that only appears now? Where was this when I wanted to find out if I was—”

She sighs and puts a hand on your shoulder, effectively shutting you up. “Soulmates are spiritual deary, past technology and brains of yesterdays had difficulty in figuring out the hows and why it works. But now, I can assure you that we have finally found a way to find if you're really untethered or not.”

“Tha-that’s a thing?”

You turned around to find Seokjin on the opposite hall, carrying what seems to be a hundred snacks with two hands, surprise contorting his face. Crossing the distance in under two steps, he stared at the lady with hopeful eyes.

“Where can I have myself checked?”

The way his voice dripped with hope, with desperation of a man who had lost his way and finally found a chance of redemption, a new salvation to pour his attention to. Hearing it made your chest clench. But there was no testimony for their new found tech, there's no telling if they're actually telling the truth.

As much as you are curious as to what the result could be, you couldn't have Seokjin join the test all hopeful only to fall into a deeper hole if he found out that he's actually untethered.

Your heart won't be able to handle the absolute devastation that would follow.

“Jinnie—”

“You boys are in luck, we just had the machine set up last night and we’re looking for—”

“I’ll do it. Me and someone else.” 

As they began to talk about the technicalities of using the machine and partaking in their research, you found yourself standing there in shock. 

You already suspected Hoseok also shared the same sentiment Jin held but to hear him indirectly confirm them had your heart bottoming to the soles of your feet. The guilt that used to only stem from Jin and Taehyung's confession came back to you like a blow to the head.

Jin then briskly walked away, you followed to see him approach an increasingly concerned Hoseok who watched his hyung march up to him with an indistinguishable fire in his eyes.

“Hoba, I found a way.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Found a way… to what exactly?”

“They have the technology to figure out if we're actually untethered or not.”

Everyone's eyes widened. Jimin had woken up from his nap and turned his head to his hyungs, shocked by what he had heard. Taehyung's jaw hung open, looking around in bewilderment before he stood to walk around the rest of the boys and into the stunned Hoseok on the other side of the seats to engulf him in a hug.

Even Manager Sejin who has been talking to the lawyer he brought with him had turned to listen to the conversation.

“H-Hyung—”

“I've already talked to the doctor who will be overseeing our examination and all they ask of us is our blood then the resul—”

“No.”

Seokjin’s shine dims with the atmosphere as his smile falls. Taehyung pulls away, more astounded than he was before as he stares at him in disbelief.

“Hyung?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Seokjin stammers out in disbelief.

“What if it came out as negative still? Hyung, I've already accepted my status. I-I don't want to raise my hopes up only to come down to the same result.”

“It doesn't hurt to try Hoba,” Seokjin said softer this time as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Try with me, please . If it's negative at least we can lament together.”

Hoseok agreed not too long after, unable to say no to his hyung, not when he's begging and pleading. Seokjin led him back to the soul specialist to have their blood taken. You had waited for them next to Yoongi on the seat Hoseok had occupied earlier. It's only 10am at that point yet your energy tank is drier than the sahara and non-existent as a stress-free day for you. When the two returned, you were slumped down on Yoongi's shoulder half asleep.

The exhausting day didn't end there.

After your soulmarks were registered, you all went to BigHit for a meeting and you thanked the high heavens no one from your department had seen you enter the conference room with the boys and a lawyer.

Minhyuk had asked you why there'll be a company party at dinner but no birthday boy will be showing up. You lied and told him that Jungkook’s going back to Busan to celebrate his birthday with his family. Jihye had also questioned your absence and you had apologized to her, knowing how often you've been going for leaves these past few weeks.

She says it's fine but you still feel bad anyways.

The meeting was short yet it felt like centuries has passed until you were freed. Just a couple of rules being laid like you being unable to handle Jimin and Taehyung anymore, the living situation where you'd be moved to the Bangtan dorms, and who else would know about the connections between you and the boys—they had approved letting your three friends know once you reasoned that they'll be able to save you once people began to question your aversion to touching Jimin and Taehyung in the future.

By the time you had trudge into your room, you were beyond the word exhaustion. Brain far too fogged up you to pick up on the blaring red lights in your mind as the world swirled around you and you fell face first into your bed.

You chalked it up to your sleepless night and the emotional stress you've gone through these past few days so imagine your shock when you wake up and find yourself in a sterile and white room whose ceiling lights burned your eyes the moment they opened again.

It was so bright and so white, you remember passing out before you came here and all you could feel now was bliss, as if the heavy baggage you've collected from last week and last night had been lifted off your form.

As if you were in heaven .

“G-God?”

“No, it's Min Yoongi. Open your eyes, brat.”

The haze clears at his gruff voice and you began to hear the stable beeping echoing in the hollow room. There's a heavy weight wounded loosely around your waist as well on your legs, turning your head, you were faced with the peaceful but almost colorless face of Jimin, his usually plush pink lips now pale and chaffed as his body trembled next to you; you were shaking too.

Turning to Yoongi to ask him what happened, you find your hand entangled with his. His impassive face now laced with concern and there were dark bags hanging under his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping for a while.

“What the fuck happened?”

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer

[brucewaynehater101]

After Tim rescued Bruce from the Time Stream I feel like Tim would start to favor the League of Assassins as his preferred stress ball to the point that they’ve started preparing for it with drills to evacuate a base in the same way schools do fire drills.

Tim is well aware of this and will occasionally choose a base that’s already in the midst of evacuating because that just makes his job easier.

Sometimes the ninjas think it’s just a drill and “that’s the 3rd one today, are you serious?” so they don’t take it as seriously until they see Ra’s booking it as fast as he can to the safe zone that they realize this one is real and not just a Stress Test and it’s suddenly every ninja for themselves.

The image of Ra's booking it across his base is causing me to cackle. He cares so much about presentation (you can't be an assassin overlord without a scary reputation) that him sprinting is hilarious. I know he has great running techniques, but I love the mental image of him pumping his arms as he books it across base, and a bunch of assassins get blown up in the background.

Also, I'm super curious what their fire drills would be like. I know alarm sounds differ depending on the country, so does Ra's have a different one per a base or a standard LoA fire alarm sound? I'd love to see fanart of Ra's directing fire drills.

Depending on which hc or canon you subscribe to, I could definitely see LoA bases being a favorite of Tim's to mess with. I think, if he was only feeling slightly petty, he'd do small things. Blowing up the bases is his last resort. Why destroy a place he has an address to if he can send Ra's a box of cooked spaghetti noodles and instant mash potatoes?

Tim likes installing LED lights in random places of the bases to set the mood for the occasion. The number of times Ra's has had to postpone a meeting because Tim somehow got LEDs in his meeting room is over ten. Assassination attempts on Red Robin were increased after the fourth time Tim made the LEDs blue after a "sad" report.

[allllium]

Secret

~ This took so much longer than I wanted it to, yay writers block right? 😭

~ Angst, Fluff at end, WC:2,737

~Remus is keeping a secret

Your boyfriend is cheating on you. That's the only explanation for the way he's acting. Every month he disappears, not just for an hour or two, but full days. Most of the time he disappears for about two to three days. And even if he doesn't disappear, he acts super weird around you.

You've tried to ask James and Sirius about it, but of course they never say anything. They are loyal to bone, which usually you respect but now it's just frustrating. You thought you were a part of the group, clearly you were wrong.

What are you supposed to do? You've already tried his friends, and spent months obsessing over behavior. Analyzing every little thing he does for you and other people, trying to find out who Remus would rather be with than you. You can't keep feeling like this.

You're in the library, trying and failing to focius on your book. Usually Remus would be here with you, but he's not. You haven't seen him since yesterday morning, when he all but pushed you out of his dorm room.

At first this whole thing was frustrating, and confusing, but now you feel rejected, a feeling your boyfriend should never give you. At first you raked your mind for any other reason why Remus would act like this. You went through things like illness, something about his friends, family maybe, you even thought it might have something to do with school work, but none of those explain why he's nowhere to be seen.

So now here you are. On the verge of tears while sitting in the library, wishing he would just come clean about what he's doing. At least then it would be easier to break up with him. But what can you do without proof, left with nothing but a bad feeling.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” You are quickly pulled from your thoughts by James’s voice coming from behind you. He's always been incredibly sweet to you, mostly because he thought it would help convince Lily to go out with him, but you also know he's just a naturally good person.

“Fine, Jamie.” You give him the best smile you can muster, obviously he sees right through it. He slings his arm around your shoulder and plops down in the seat next to you.

“What's on your mind?” He seems genuinely concerned but you don't believe it. Real friends tell friends when they're being cheated on. You wish. In real life, however, they always stay loyal to whoever came first. You love that Remus has such great support when he needs it but what about you?

“It's nothing, doesn't matter.” You try your best to reassure him.

“No, something is clearly wrong. How can I help?”

“It's nothing, James, just drop it. Please.” He knows you're serious when you use his real name, usually resorting to some stupid nickname.

“Yeah, okay. If you need anything just let me know.” You only nod as he turns to leave. You take a big breath when you're alone again.

You're honestly trying not to panic. You love Remus, a lot. But you can't be with a cheater, you just can't. And if you break up with him then you lose all your friends, because of course, they were his friends first. Which means you have to start over, all alone. Yeah, no reason to panic.

Over the next few days you don't see Remus. Not because of him, this time it's you trying to disappear. This is what happens, he ignores you for a few days then comes back all clingy as if nothing happened. The first couple times you tried to ask about it but you never got a straight answer. He told you he was busy with his friends or with school, which was clearly a lie, so eventually you stopped asking.

You've had to change your daily routine a lot just to avoid him. Instead of going to his dorm for bed, you go to your own. You're not eating in the dining hall, because he would sit with you. You're sitting away from him in class and turning the other way when you see him in the halls. Apparently your avoidance has been so obvious, McGonagall stopped him after a class to ask what happened. You didn't stay long enough to overhear his answer.

“Oh, Angel!” You hear your boyfriend’s voice call for you in the hallway, you do nothing but walk faster, knowing you won't be able to keep it together long enough to face him right now. “I know you heard me.” His voice is much closer as he grabs your shoulder to stop you. He takes the books out of your hand and holds them behind his back.

“What do you want, Remus?” You ask him, not turning around.

“I want to know why my girlfriend has been ignoring me for days now?”

You no longer feel sad when you finally turn and look at him, the irony of his statement filling you with sudden frustration and anger, “Oh really? What about you Remus? You ignore me for days every month and I still don't have an answer for that!”

He stays silent, analyzing your expression before continuing, “It's different,” is all he says.

“How Remus? I would love for you to explain how exactly this is different.”

“It just is!”

“You know what, I don't even care. Come find me when you can explain, otherwise don't bother.” You feel like you're going to collapse as you walk away, leaving him in the hall, with your books in his hand.

You didn't think it would be this hard. Yet after a few more days have passed it seems Remus took the ‘don't bother’ part of your speech more seriously than any other.

You honestly thought he would at least try to give you any kind of explanation. Even if it is a lie.

James and Sirius haven't talked to you either. Remus obviously told them about what you said, they don't want to be friends with you if you aren't with Remus.

Over the last few days, you've spent a lot more time with Lily and the rest of the girls.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” Lily asks you. You're sitting with her in her dorm with Mary and Pandora.

“I don't know what to say.” You shrug. What are you supposed to say? You don't want to tell her Remus is probably cheating on you, on the very off chance he isn't. And you don't want to admit how much you miss being around him.

“What did you guys fight about?” Mary pipes up. At this point the whole school has noticed the behavior between the two of you. Everyone has been talking about it, spreading theories as to why such a happy couple has been acting like this.

“It wasn't a fight,” You begin to explain to the girls, “I told him unless he can tell me why he keeps disappearing I don't wanna talk to him.”

You don't miss the look Lily and Pandora exchange. Mary focuses her gaze onto the floor, none of them look at you as Pandora speaks up this time.

“I mean he probably has a good reason.” She tries to offer.

“And you all know, don't you?” Great, you're officially the only one who doesn't know this secret your boyfriend is keeping.

“It's not what you think.” Lily tells you softly.

“Then why won't he tell me?”

“I don't know,” Lily tells you again, “Maybe you should talk to him.”

“I tried that, but it didn't work.”

“Then don't ask him to talk, tell him you're not happy. I promise he's not trying to hurt you.”

“And how do you know? He apparently told everyone but me Lily, what am I supposed to think?”

No one responds.

“I don't know what to do.” Remus tells his friends, running his hands over his face in despair.

“Well, I vote you stop being a dumbass but we know that won't happen.” Sirius offers him. The four of them haven't left their dorm all day, trying to convince Remus he needs to be honest with you. Actually Peter and Sirius have been trying to convince him, James hasn't talked to him all day. He knows why you were upset in the library and isn't trying to hide his irritation, however, he doesn't want to say something to hurt Remus. So he stays quiet.

“I agree. What's the worst that can happen?” Peter shrugs, you'd think Remus would listen to him considering he's the one in the longest lasting relationship.

“Uh, she could leave me!” He practically shouts, rolling his eyes at the look shared between Sirius and Peter.

“Oh you mean like what she wants to do now?” Remus doesn't even notice who says it, too distracted by the ice running through his veins.

“You really think she'll want to break up over this?” His voice is barely a whisper, the slight heartbreak clear in his tone.

“This is one of the biggest parts of your life and you haven't told her. She knows you've been lying about it and you haven't talked to her once since she said “don't bother.” In my opinion all you're doing is showing her you don't care.” Peter tries his best to explain this gently to Remus. Not wanting to hurt him but knowing Remus won't actually understand till he knows how you feel about it.

“I need to tell her. I just- I don't want her to leave me because of it.”

James lets out an exasperated sigh at Remus's words. “She's not going to leave you for being a werewolf, she loves you just as much as you love her. If she breaks up with you it's because of how long you've kept this a secret.

Another week goes by with no word for Remus. You're started to give up hope that he'll even try to talk to you again. Unless to finally end this relationship. Thinking about either of these options hurt your heart, not wanting this to end or go on.

“It's not until you're leaving the dining hall after dinner that you're pulled into an empty classroom. You can tell by the touch on your wrist that it's him.

“What do you want, Remus?” You immediately ask. You try to keep your face as straight as possible, not wanting him to see how upset you really are.

“I need to explain.”

“Seriously? Now?”

“Can I please just tell you what's going on? You can yell or insult me all you want afterwards, I just need you to know.” He lets go of your wrist but refuses to look away from your face.

You give a small nod in agreement but it's all he needs to jump right into what he wants to say, you have the feeling this whole plan was practiced beforehand.

“I was not trying to hurt you. I love you a lot. More than I have ever loved anything before and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you because I'm not normal. I figured if there were something wrong with who I am, I can change, I can fix that but I can't fix something I have no control over and I felt like I would die if I lost you because of it.”

“Because of what?” Is all you ask.

He takes a deep breath before finally explaining, “I'm a werewolf.”

“Oh screw you.” You roll your eyes and quickly walk out of the classroom.

Remus doesn't follow you out. He stays standing in the empty room for a few minutes, confused about the interaction that just took place.

He comes to your shared class almost halfway through and doesn't look at you until it's over.

“Angel, please talk to me.” Remus begs, following out of the classroom. You shake your head and begin to speed up your walk. He grabs your wrist and pulls you into him, “Baby please.”

“What do you want, Remus? Here to lie to me more.” You turn around to confront him.

“I'm not lying about being a werewolf.” He defends, eyes widening in bewilderment.

“That's not what I'm mad about.” Your tone grows more angry as you talk. “We've been dating for how long now and you don't tell me your biggest secret? You've had me panicking every fucking month wondering where you where and who you were with. All because you what? Can't trust me with this big secret?”

Remus visible winces as your voice grows louder. “Please don't be so loud.”

“Oh yeah! Don't trust me not spill anything!”

“That's not what I meant, love. Can we just talk about this, somewhere private.”

“So what? So you can make up some lame excuses?” You turn again and try to leave.

“No angel, that's not why I didn't tell you.”

You pause. As much as you want to keep walking you love him. Deep inside you know exactly why he didn't tell you but you don't think you can bear to hear him say it. You know it's not because of you but you feel like you failed. You feel as if you failed to make him know just how much you love him, just how worth it he is. You want nothing more than for him to be happy and if he hasn't told you about his big secret clearly he's happy enough with you.

“It has nothing to do with you, I promise. I wanted to tell you so many times, so much more than you know but whenever I tried I couldn't. My mouth wouldn't open as much as I tried. I was terrified that you would leave, I know you never would, okay, I know. But the thought that you could stopped me, it stops me from doing many things.”

“Why?” You ask, tears arriving in your eye line.

“Because I can't live without you. I know how cheesy that sounds but it's true. All my life I've dealt with the consequences of being a werewolf even from people that don't know. You have helped me be myself more than anyone ever has and that's enough. I can't bear the thought of you leaving let alone the thought of knowing I pushed you away. Knowing this pushed you away and it wasn't something I could stop because if I could I would. I know it makes things harder for you. I hear how people talk about you because of my scars and how awkward I am and you don't deserve that, you've made me think that maybe I don't deserve it either. I can't lose you. I can't let this push you away because without you I go back to who I used to be. And now that you've shown me who I really am, I can't go back to being him.”

You listen to his words silently, trying your best not to let the tears fall. He doesn't deserve to feel this way and hearing him admit that makes you want to cry with happiness for him, for yourself in succeeding to make him feel as loved as he is. You want to tell him this but he continues.

“I love you, angel. And I'm so sorry I couldn't get myself to tell you before. I am so sorry I made you worry and made other people lie for me. I don't know what to say except for that. I don't know how I can make this better.”

“You already did, Rem.” This time you turn to face him, seeing the tears on his face break your heart even more. “I mean I can't really fault you for your mouth sabotaging you.”

A small smile blooms on his face. “How dare it.”

“I know what it's like to be that anxiety. I thought you were cheating on me.”

“I would never!” He looks genuinely offended at your words.

“I know baby, but there's still that fear.”

“I'm really sorry.” He pulls you in for a hug.

“I know, Rem. I wish I could've helped you more.”

“Dove, you've already done more than enough, I love you.”

“I love you too. But if I find out you're keeping something else I'll kill you as you sleep.”

You feel Remus grin into the crook of your neck.