#woman motorcyclist

[batsplat]

saw a motorcyclist with a 46 helmet on my commute, taking this as an omen marc is winning this weekend

[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 🫶🏻

[arieslost]

you have pushed me to ask so here I go

I present my idea of motorcyclist!oscar and his gf who is afraid of motorcycles. He convinces her to try it onc3 and BOOM hands around him holding on the dear life.

I want to hold on to him

I can't stop thinking about that tiktok

here's a ss I took from the tiktok edit

what a yummy man

the entire time i wrote this i kept coming back to look at this picture because oh my goodness gracious. i hope this lives up to ur expectations <33 definitely wanna write more biker!osc after this

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

hold on tight | op81

“Just one time?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No way.”

“Do you even love me at all?” Oscar asks dramatically, jutting his lower lip out for extra effect. 

“That’s not going to work on me, Piastri.” You shake your head vehemently. “I refuse to get on that death machine. It’s bad enough that you ride it all the time.”

“Come onnnn,” he whines, tugging you up off of the bed and into his arms. 

The two of you look like polar opposites— him with his leather jacket and riding gloves still on, smelling faintly of exhaust, and you in plaid pajama pants and one of his worn out t-shirts. You suppose that’s what makes your relationship work so well, opposites attract and whatever. All relationships take compromise though, and this is one “compromise” that, thus far, you’ve refused to make. 

In your eyes, it’s not a compromise. But Oscar has been asking you to be his “backpack” practically since the two of you met. 

“What do I have to do to convince you?” He’s asking, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“Hmm, nothing.” You smile up at him, and it fades just as fast when you see the excitement in his eyes. “Because it’s never going to happen. I like being alive, thank you very much.”

“Baby, you know you’ll be safe with me. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” He says sincerely, his pleading tone now gone. “I’ve been riding my entire life. I did all the crashing before I got my license. Haven’t crashed since.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel better.” You mutter, hiding your face in his chest so he can’t see your resolve slowly starting to crumble. 

“It would be so fun,” he continues, arms tightening around your frame as he starts to sway you both side to side a little. “All you’d have to do is hold on to me. I’ll do all the work. You trust me, don’t you?” 

“With all things except the death machine,” you say, voice muffled by the material of his jacket. 

“I love you, but I’m gonna need you to stop calling her ‘the death machine,’ honey.”

“Her?” You look up at him, affronted. “I’m definitely not doing it now. Wouldn’t want to get between you and the other woman in your life.” 

Oscar laughs. His laugh has always been more of a giggle around you, which is such a contrast to his outward appearance that it never fails to make you melt. 

“You’re the only woman for me, which is why you’re the only woman I’ve ever asked to be my backpack.” He says. 

“Don’t try to butter me up with the whole backpack thing again.” You roll your eyes and try to pull away from him, but he somehow manages to twirl you and bring you right back into him. 

“It’s not me buttering you up, I’m just telling the truth. Come on, baby.” he leans in and gives you a long kiss that leaves your head spinning a little. “One time. And if you don’t like it, I promise I won’t ask again.” 

You let out a frustrated groan, because he has to know that he’s won at this point. That kiss was nothing but tactical. “Fine. Fine. But you can’t just kiss me like that every time you want something from me, it’s unfair.” 

“Yes, yes!” He squeezes you into him, kissing the top of your head over and over. “You won’t regret this.”

“I already am a little bit.” You grumble. 

That’s how you find yourself standing on the sidewalk with Oscar in front of you adjusting a helmet on your head. 

“This is making me claustrophobic,” you complain as he flips the visor up so he can see your face. 

“I’m just making sure you’re safe, baby.” When you furrow your eyebrows, he sighs and drops his hands to his sides. “If you really don’t want to do this, you don’t have to, okay?”

This makes you relent a little bit. “Osc, I’m sorry. I’m just scared. I don’t like motorcycles, like, at all.” You smile as best you can with the helmet on, hoping it goes to your eyes so he can see it. “I want to do this. You just… you really have to help me.” 

He nods, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. “Of course, honey. C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to his motorcycle. While you’re terrified just looking at it, you can’t deny that it’s absolutely beautiful. Streamlined and sleek, like he literally just bought it, even though you know he’d already had it for a year when you first met him. 

He looks almost the same as he did when you first met— all black getup, signature leather jacket, riding gloves, and of course, his strangely colorful helmet that doesn’t match the rest of him. His hair was long when you met him, and you still remember being absolutely starstruck when you saw his face for the first time. It had felt like everything went into slow motion when he took his helmet off, pushed his hair back, and instantly made eye contact with you from where you were just exiting the bookstore. 

Needless to say, you were done for. And now here you are, a year later, letting him help you onto the death machine. 

He never said you had to stop calling it (sorry, her) that if you were thinking it to yourself. 

“You okay? Comfy?” Oscar asks, reaching to adjust your helmet one more time. 

“Yup. Mhmm. Totally.” You nod, not even trying to sound convincing considering your heart is in your throat and he hasn’t even started the engine yet. 

“Great,” he kisses the top of your helmet and smiles at you cutely before climbing onto the bike so he’s seated in front of you. “Just hold on tight, okay baby? Like this.” 

He reaches behind him, grabbing your hands that had been anxiously scratching at the material of your jeans and pulling you forward so your arms are wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t have to say anything else– you’re quick to tighten your hold around him, fingers clutching at the material of his open jacket. You immediately feel your anxieties begin to dissipate as soon as you’re holding onto him, and you shift your whole body forward on the seat so your front is pressed as close as it can be to his back. When he lets out a quiet grunt, you release your grip a little. 

“I’m sorry! Am I holding you too tight?” “No, no,” he huffs out a laugh, patting your thigh. “Do whatever you need to do. Just warn me if you’re planning to suffocate me at all.”

“Listen, Piastri–” you begin, and he cuts you off by twisting around to look at you.

“Okay, I get it, I’m sorry.” He’s giggling now, and you let go of him to smack his helmet. “I’m done, I promise. As long as you feel safe, honey.”

“Come on, let’s go before I chicken out.” You say, quickly reassuming your hold.

It’s times like these where you appreciate just how buff your boyfriend is. He has something of a sleeper build, so one quick glance at him wouldn’t really reveal much, but when you’re pressed up against him like this, you can feel the muscles in his back and shoulders and his abs through his shirt when your hand slips past his jacket. He’s warm and solid against you, and that in itself is comforting enough that you don’t go flying off the seat when he starts up the engine and you instantly feel your whole body start to vibrate from the force of it.

“I’ll check in with you, okay?” He says over the loud rumbling. “Hit me in the head or something and I’ll pull over. Sound good?” Having him to hold on to is nice, but your throat is still dry thinking about all the dastardly possibilities that could occur when the bike starts moving, so you have to swallow a couple times in order for him to hear you over the engine. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Your heart falls out of your ass and lands on the pavement when he pulls out onto the road, the engine roaring as he accelerates. 

“God, please spare me,” you say out loud, grateful that Oscar can’t hear you over the engine. 

As soon as he gets onto the freeway, that’s when you realize just how much fun you’ve been missing out on.

It’s never been a secret to you that Oscar loves going fast. There have been plenty of occasions where you’ll drive somewhere, do whatever it is you have planned, and then you’ll turn to him and ask if he wants to drive home just to give him some peace of mind knowing that the journey back will be cut down by a few minutes at least. Being in the car is fun enough, but being on the back of his motorcycle is different.

You thought you’d be more scared. You’re terrified, sure, but even though you can feel the wind whipping against your clothes and you’re flying past cars on either side of the freeway, you’re holding on to Oscar, and you could easily do that forever. You’re quickly warming up to the concept of being his backpack, and you can feel yourself relaxing your death grip around him. This is actually kind of fun. Okay, really fun. You actually can’t believe you were so adamantly refusing to do this this whole time. 

Every so often, he reaches back with one hand and rubs your thigh, or holds one of your hands that is now tucked comfortably into his jacket pocket. You thought you’d be freaking out about him taking a hand off the handlebars, but he exudes confidence on the bike, and he never wavers no matter what he’s doing with his hands. 

He doesn’t go very far; the whole ride lasts maybe 20 minutes, but it feels like half that with how quick the bike is. Your arms ache from all the muscles in them working the whole time, and when he helps you off the back of the bike your legs feel like jello.

“How was it?” He asks, helping you pull the bulky helmet off your head. 

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it away for you before you can even lift your hands. He cups your cheeks, a small smile on his face as he admires you.

“We are definitely doing that again.” 

His smile grows, and he places a sweet, adoring kiss on your lips. “I knew I finally found my backpack.” 

word count: 1,787

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: writing this has me thinking up a whole biker au for multiple drivers... thank you for this gold mine of a request <33

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings

[peacheeeliz]

FUNERAL PYRE

SYNOPSIS ⤏ heeseung is completely starstruck by the motorcyclist that frequently visits the coffee shop he works at. y/n has no interest in the peppy barista at the cafe she visits after classes. but that doesn't stop him from wanting to get to know her more.

PARING ⤏ barista!heeseung x metalhead!fem reader

GENRE ⤏ smau, miniseries, romcom, unrequited love (until it isn't 😩), heeseung fell first, but y/n fell harder, heeseung is very very down bad

FEATURING ⤏ enhypen, beomgyu from txt, haewon from nmixx, and ricky from zb1

FACECLAIM ⤏ faceclaim for y/n purely for picture purposes!! (@ peace.yami on ig)

WARNINGS ⤏ swearing, kms/kys & lots of sexual jokes, pls ignore timestamps 💔, y/n and her friends are a little mean, more to come

PLAYLIST ⤏ take me back to eden, sleep token | hypnosis, sleep token | mary on a cross, ghost | i was made for lovin' you, kiss | all i wanted, paramore | the summoning, sleep token | just pretend, bad omens | painkiller, three days grace | rosemary, deftones | sugar, sleep token

STARTED ⤏ 11.02.2024

STATUS ⤏ ongoing ♡

PROFILES & CHAPTERS

headbangers | caffeine addicts

prologue. riki where tf r u rn

001. coffee for here

002. FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

003. jay want uppies

004. oh..

005. grown ass woman

006. married with a kid

007. BBY???

008. before or after u boinked

009. i'm manifesting stfu

010. spoil u all i want

011. whore for men in glasses

012. i wanna lick her face

MORE TO COME.

☆©peacheeeliz, 2024

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is open!

[babbushka]

Death At The Dive Bar

Flip Zimmerman X F!Reader

Inspired by this request, some weird twilight-zone occult occurrences happen to happen to our favorite detective. 3.4k, NSFW

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s always the same -- a scream, a crash, broken glass bloodied on the floor. A gunshot maybe, or maybe not. In the dead of night, acts of violence hiding beneath a cloak of darkness. 

It’s always the same -- a 911 call, frantic panicked voices demanding someone come down from the station, someone please help, before it’s too late, even though the very act of them picking up the phone means it’s already done. 

It’s always the same -- until it isn't. And on a dark and stormy summer night in the thick of the Rocky Mountains, a tiny dive bar calls the nearest police dispatcher, and calmly requests to speak to one Detective Flip Zimmerman of Colorado Springs. 

Flip had been in the area when he got the call over the radio, wandering around, scoping out the woods. He knew at once where it was, had heard stories of the place of course, way back in the day when he still wore the weight of the war like a thick leather jacket around his shoulders. When he pulls up in his Chevy it looks exactly the same as it always had been described: run down, small, with a buzzing neon sign proudly proclaiming The Mile High Tavern as the best place to grab a Coors within 50 miles. Nevermind that it was the only place. 

He sits in his truck and glares at the bar. Popular with passers-through along winding scenic roads and most frequented by motorcyclists seeking shelter from the rain, he wonders (not for the first time this week) what the hell he’s getting himself into. The note from the dispatcher had been vague -- a lady was askin’ for him specifically, and he was supposed to find out why. Things like this didn’t bode well for him, usually. 

Especially not lately, not with the way his last relationship flopped. He had tried to explain to the nice woman that his job took up a lot of his time -- had hoped that her big city job had given her a different perspective, but she didn’t seem to think his work hours applied to her. That had been three months ago that she left him, and he was still sore from it. 

No, a woman asking for him directly was the last thing Flip wanted to get himself tangled up in, regardless of the reason. 

Despite the rain, there isn’t the usual line of motorcycles out front. In fact, there was only one car to be seen, an oldie -- something chrome plated and pink, but he can’t really tell in the rainy darkness. The Mile High Tavern appeared for all intents and purposes to be empty, and so Flip takes one last drag of his cigarette, makes sure his gun is loaded and in its holster, and with a sigh of resignation steps into the downpour. 

“Let me get you something nice and warm,” A friendly voice calls over to him from the counter when Flip steps over the threshold, your back turned to him. All at once, Flip’s heart begins to pound. Something about this place felt odd to him, an uneasy feeling that shifted his stomach around. He took another step closer and you continued, “I’m afraid the only hot thing we’ve got tonight is coffee.” 

“Coffee’d be just fine, thank you.” Flip nods with gratitude, before sitting at the bar. Looking around, he notes how quaint the little place is. It’s neat and clean and warm, and he confirms that you are the only person in here. He wonders if you’ve been alone long, and frowns. “I’m sorry - I’m Detective Zimmerman, someone here rang for me?” 

“I’d be that someone, yes.” You slide him a cup of black coffee down the counter that you lean against with a smile. It is dazzling, bright in the dark light of the dive bar. “Thank you for coming out here, I appreciate how quick you were.” 

Well shit, Flip grimaces into his mug, now he feels like an asshole for sitting in the truck debating when, or if, he should brave the rain to head inside. 

You smile at him like you knew he was out there biding his time, a teasing smile that lets him know you’re not mad, even though you could be. It wasn’t professional for a law officer to keep someone waiting like that. 

“What seems to be the trouble?” He doesn’t bring up the fact that they’re alone. 

It was dangerous these days, with all the murders in the woods lately. Women being slaughtered left and right by what Flip is certain is a serial killer, but no one will take him seriously enough about it to do anything. Not without more evidence. 

“Do you..” You pause, as if you’re trying to find the words. No, that’s not it, as if you’re having a hard time spitting them out, like something is preventing you. “May I sit next to you?” 

You look at him with expectation and hope, and he stares into your eyes, searching for what the hell brought him all the way out here on his night shift. The clock strikes three in the morning. 

He doesn’t notice himself nodding with allowance, until you’re walking around the counter and getting close to him. Even though it’s warm in the bar, your hands are cold. 

“Thank you,” You breathe, getting close to him. Not so close that you’re touching, but close enough that he could brush against your shoulder with his own. “I don’t usually work alone, but tonight the other server is sick, and with the storm we aren’t expecting too many people, so here I am. There was something out there.” 

You stare directly into his eyes, and he’s almost taken aback by the seriousness and bluntness of your voice. Your voice is hypnotic almost, the edges of your words fuzzy and sharp at the same time, an impossible combination that has his palms sweating. He wonders for a brief moment if you slipped something into his coffee, but the thought leaves him as soon as it arrives.

“What sort of something?” He finds himself asking quietly, not wanting whatever it is to overhear. He thinks back to the past few weeks, the broken in-houses, the tape on the floor, the screams of agony. Flip sets his jaw and leans in close, looks deep into your wide open eyes, pupils huge in the dark. 

“A figure, on the other side of the window. I saw it in the lightning, I saw its eyes. I think it’s a man. I’m scared.” You whisper, lowering your voice to match his pitch. 

“I can escort you home -- ” He goes to get up, a rush of protective energy flowing through him, scraping the bar stool against the wooden floor, the sound so so so loud in the quiet of the bar, but your hand is gripping his arm the second he gets up.

“No!” Your voice is too sharp again, dark around the edges, and Flip looks down and sees panic in your eyes. He softens immediately, and even though he’s not supposed to, even though it’s unprofessional, even though you’re a stranger, he pulls you into a hug for some comfort. You throw your arms around him in return, and he’s not certain who is comforting whom. “No -- I -- I don’t want it to know where I live, if it follows us. I was hoping you could keep me company.” 

Your face is pressed into his chest, and for the first time in a long time, he feels complete, he feels like he’s never ever going to let go. He feels like you were made to fit into his arms, against his chest. He grows hot, his throat clearing as he immediately steps back to give you some space. 

You’re a stranger. 

He doesn’t even know your name. 

The rain pounds outside and lightning flashes, and Flip snaps back to reality. 

“I don’t think I can stay all night, I would have brought backup.” He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, offering, “I can do a search of the premises, if that would make you feel better.” 

“You shouldn’t go outside.” You shake your head, and Flip lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, glad that you have relieved him from what would have been one bitch of a job. Especially when you look up at him through your lashes and bite your lip and say, “I would prefer it if you stayed in here. With me.” 

“Alright.” He smiles, throwing all caution to the wind because what the hell else is he going to do on a Monday night? “If you’d feel safer with me staying here with you, I’ll stay. But in the morning, I’ll escort you either home or to another safe location, or hell even to the station and you can give a statement, and we’ll have someone out here searching the woods.” 

“That sounds like a plan, thank you.” Your hand rests on the bar counter close to his, so close, he nudges his pinky against yours. There’s no rings on your finger, he notices. 

“In the meantime, what should we do?” He licks his lips, knowing that it’s wrong, it’s an abuse of power -- but who has power over whom? He’s getting lost in your eyes, in the pretty smile you give him as you reach over the bar counter and grab a small rectangular pack of -- 

“I have a deck of cards.” You brandish them at him, looking over your shoulder with a grin. The way you’re bent over the bartop has Flip’s mind doing awful things, things like picturing you without any of those clothes on. “You any good at poker?” 

Flip was not good at poker. 

He’s lost the past two games and you’re already shuffling for a third. The energy in the bar has relaxed significantly, and Flip is starting to forget why he’s there. 

“Let’s up the ante.” You say, in an attempt to discourage or motivate him, he isn’t sure, as you shuffle and shuffle and shuffle the cards. “Each hand someone loses, they take something off.” 

“I don’t see how this ends any other way than me naked.” Flip grunts, not entirely displeased by the prospect. 

“You could win, and then I’d be the naked one.” You point out, and he laughs, a snort through his nose that exhales blue wispy smoke from his cigarette. 

On the first hand, Flip loses -- but that’s all it takes. He unbuttons his shirt and you’re hot on him, pinching his cigarette out and flicking it into the ashtray for him, your lips searing onto his. No one can ever find out about this, can ever know he’s about to fuck this stranger on the job, fuck you silly over the bar counter while on a call, and you don’t seem like the type to tell. Not with the way you’re pulling your blouse up over your head.

He hadn’t really paid any attention to what you’re wearing until it’s off, in a heap on the floor around him. The undergarments you wear are old fashioned, a bullet bra and girdle that hold up a pair of stockings. The clothes on the floor are old fashioned too, almost like the same exact uniform that a waitress might have worn at the Tavern twenty years ago. 

But they look new, and maybe the tavern never updated their uniforms,Flip doesn’t care, not with the way your hands are on his belt, pulling his hard dick out of his pants and spitting down onto it, spreading the spit around, his tip leaking and joining the mix. 

With ragged breath, he pushes you down face first onto the bartop again, pops the straps of your bra, your garter, pushes down your stockings. They rip under his rough treatment, and he feels bad for a moment, just a moment, until his cock is rubbing at the soft wet folds of you and you let out a moan that fills the tavern with warmth. 

“I don’t have a -- ” He starts, pulling away, trying to remember that he’s almost forty for fuck’s sake, he needs to be responsible, he needs to -- 

“It’s alright.”  You reach behind him and grab at his hand, leading him to drape his body over yours, giving him permission to fuck you anyway. 

With a sharp breath he pushes in all the way, bottoms out so that his cock is completely enveloped inside of you, his hips pressed against the smooth skin of your ass, and he almost can’t move he’s so blinded by the feeling. You’re so tight, and so wet, the bar smells like musk and sweat and rain, the sweet salty combination making his mind go dizzy. 

He’s never talked much during sex, and this is no different, but in the back of his mind he wishes he had something good enough to say to you, something impressive. Instead, he thrusts in a steady harsh rhythm that has your knees buckling, your hands gripping the far edge of the bar counter, your cheek pressed against the polished wood, mouth dropped open and eyes shut tight in pleasure. 

Flip’s hands on your waist are tight enough that he could dig them into you if he wasn’t careful, he could leave marks. He almost wants to, wants you to remember him when this is over and he’ll have to go back to the station, have to write a report about all of this. Not this, not you, not the way your sweet cunt clenches around him as you take his force, take his length, hot and pulsing inside of you. 

He needs to see you, all of a sudden, he needs to. Grabbing your arms, he pulls out only long enough for you to whine in protest for a few short seconds, and then he’s taking you to a booth, taking you somewhere padded that he can lie you down and brace himself on top of you. 

You lick your lips as your head rolls back, legs spreading for him to nestle between them as he bends over you, those same legs hooking around his waist. You’re completely naked, your perky breasts begging to be sucked on, and so he does. He wonders if the rasp of his clothes on your skin feels nice, if you like it. If you like him. 

It’s too hot in here, Flip thinks, his eyes shut as he pants against your body. Too hot and bright, bright behind his eyelids as he groans and moans. He’s sweating, and it’s loud, the sound of rain too loud, its wooshing a roar that deafens his ears. He almost can’t think about anything else, can’t think about the way you feel under him, why is it so bright why is it so hot -- 

It hits you first, and you’re squirming, panting and moaning as you come. Flip can feel it squelching between your thighs, his cock pulling out shiny and glistening with your orgasm. It makes him go over the edge, his come filling you up, the hot white spread of it. He tries not to worry about fucking you raw, but it’s been a long time since he hasn’t used a rubber. 

You give him a big grin, stretching out beneath him, your legs falling to the sides where they can. It’s still raining. 

Wordlessly, he gathers you up from underneath him and settles you down on the floor, kissing all over your face, your neck, your breasts. Your stomach chuckles underneath him as you hold him close, breathing in the smell of him. He doesn’t want you to ever let go. 

“Then don’t.” You sigh into his hair there on the floor, and Flip closes his eyes, tired from the events of the day. 

He doesn’t realize that you’ve responded to his thoughts, until he’s in a deep sleep. 

In the morning, he’s alone. 

In the morning, the dive bar isn’t just old, it’s run down. The windows are smashed like kids had been playing pranks here, tossing bottles and rocks through the glass. The shelves are all empty, no liquor, nothing. 

Flip feels like he is frozen as he looks around him. Where were you? Where were the cards that had scattered all over the floor? He is fully dressed, asleep in a booth that is covered in dust and cobwebs -- it wasn’t that dirty yesterday, was it? 

He’s sick, his stomach lurching as he sits up. He doesn’t even know your name to shout it out into the bar. In the light of morning, the rain has stopped, and Flip gathers himself up on uncertain legs. He looks around, trying to find any trace of you, but there isn’t one. There’s only one set of boot prints in the dust on the floor, his own.

Confusion continues to wash over him, which slowly morphs into panic. These windows weren’t broken last night, the floor wasn’t dusty, where the fuck were you? He stumbles to his truck, his mind working double time trying to piece together what happened. Surely he hadn’t dreamt this, what was he doing last night? He wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t stoned he -- 

“Come in, Flip, come in!” A panicked voice crackles from his car, and making sure his gun is still in the holster, Flip runs right to his truck, hopping in and turning the engine over. 

“Ron?” Flip grasps the radio tightly in his hand, tuning the frequency to hear better. “Ron is that you? What’s going in?” 

“Flip! Where are you?” Ron asks, direct to the point. 

“I’m up by the fork in the mountain pass, just off the scenic highway.” 

“What?! Are you safe?” 

“Of course I’m safe, why wouldn’t I be? Ron what the fuck is happening?” Flip’s eyes are hard on the tavern, and even from the outside, something is wrong. This place was not open last night, it couldn’t have been. The walls are blackened with soot, the doors are boarded shut. How did he get in -- how did he get out?

“There was flash flooding, down the scenic road. It brought rocks down with it from all the rain. Search and rescue found a couple cars down the cliffside.” Ron rushes to explain, and Flip feels like he’s going to be sick. 

“They’re dead?” He pinches the bridge of his nose -- people were getting caught up in a flash flood while he was getting laid last night. 

“Yeah. You need to get back here, where did you say you were at again?” Ron asks, and Flip can hear that he’s pulling out a pen and paper from his desk. 

“Mile High Tavern. I spent the night here” Flip responds, and then there’s silence. “Ron? Did you hear me? I said I’m at -- ”

“I heard you, but that’s not possible.” Ron’s voice is shaken, “That bar burned down back in ‘57.” 

All at once, everything stops. 

He blinks, and he’s in the roar of the inferno as he comes into your body.

He blinks again, and the bar is gone entirely. 

Nothing remaining but a patch of scorched earth in its place. 

No neon sign. 

No motorcycles

No single car out front. 

Ron is saying something on the radio, but Flip can’t hear. He is reversing out of there so quickly that he almost misses the flash of something behind him -- almost. Flip looks back in his rearview mirror at the bar and sees something, a shape, a young woman in old fashioned clothing far away, through the trees. 

A hand waves, and Flip knows that whatever you were, you saved him, protected him from the flash flood that killed. You saved him, and he fucked you, and he’s sick to his stomach about that, not sure what was real and what isn’t, not sure of anything anymore except that he wants to find you and do it all over again. 

But he blinks, and you’re gone. 

[saintundying]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!🦇

i come bearing claudia & madeleine fic rec treats!

the good kind of parasite, a bad bloodsucker by skvadern (@vastsexual), e

Pretty, really. That long, thin little trail, spilling down her smooth-shaved skin, starkly red against her pallor. I am leaving a trail, I am Gretel! And fuck, she had been, little splashes in her wake like a line of candy. Bite-sized berry-red gumdrops. Claudia can't get her mind off Madeleine's blood.

she's gonna get you from behind by kanxie, m

Madeleine shifts from one leg to the other, uncharacteristic of the vampire she’s meant to behave as. The leftover blood in her from the night before throbs. A steady trickle of it begins its descent downwards within her. Danger is her favorite aphrodisiac.

da mi basia mille by quensty, e

Claudia used the change from her collection of motorcyclists to buy Madeleine a pair of heels that made her legs look long and beautiful. “How do I look?” she asked, meeting her eyes in the mirror. Claudia wanted to pin her up on her wall. “Tall,” she said. “No man will ever date you.”

pomegranates by jinxettes, m

Claudia and Madeleine have moved to Nice, France after leaving the coven behind. On a hunt like any other, things go awry.

que estrago by contranarciso, m

Before Madeleine gets turned into a vampire, they talk.

(you make me feel like) a natural woman by glitterghostie, m

As Claudia and Madeleine navigate the beginnings of their eternal life together, Claudia struggles to reconcile her sexuality with her eternally youthful body. Madeleine has an idea that might help.

[mimi-0007]

Bessie Stringfield (born Betsy Beatrice White; 1911 or 1912 – February 16, 1993), also known as the "Motorcycle Queen of Miami", was an American motorcyclist who was the first African-American woman to ride across the United States solo, and was one of the few civilian motorcycle dispatch riders for the US Army during World War II. Credited with breaking down barriers for both women and African-American motorcyclists, Stringfield was inducted into the Motorcycle Hall of Fame. The award bestowed by the American Motorcyclist Association (AMA) for "Superior Achievement by a Female Motorcyclist" is named in her honor.

[daryldicksuckon69]

Ride His Motorcyle (18+)

Pair: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Alexandria Era (No particular season, Glenn, Abraham live and there's no Saviors)

Tags: Smut, Cowgirl Position, Rough Sex

Word Count: 4.22k

Summary: Daryl and Reader find themselves in tight quarters for hours on end and nothing came of it to the dismay of them both. Daryl grow balls and addresses the *situation* smut ensues.

Ride His Motorcycle By @daryldisuckon69

With the rise of the sun comes the trials the day brings. However, for the past few years, the challenge of living has been constant and ever present. The group had earned their place in Alexandria, fought for one another and the citizens of the naïve township.

It had been three years since you’d all arrived but everyone had seemed to find a role in the community well. Daryl had found it particularly difficult to assimilate, as did Sasha, with all the horrors and loss endured on the way, it seemed coming back wasn't an option. 

You’d look at Maggie and Glenn at the farm, seeing their interactions and relationship develop to now being married and pregnant with admiration. With all this stability, members of the group in turn felt more inclined to settle down and build foundations. Now Rick and Michonne and Sasha and Abraham have been settling down, you were surrounded by happy people, people in love. 

Sure, some days it you felt lonely, but it always seemed so trivial: finally having all this space to feel comfortable and happy, not always worrying where the next meal or bed would be, if there was any at all, complaining about not having a person; to vouch for you, to love you, to touch you and make you feel good. 

You knew you could feel that with a certain brown-haired motorcyclist, but even with the whole town rooting for the pair of you, nothing ever came of it. 

“Speaking of coming, how did you and Daryl go on this morning’s supply run?” Rosita asks, opening your communal kitchen’s shelves, taking a couple glasses and placing them on your makeshift bar. 

Even with the amount of houses in Alexandria, you had decided to stay in the original house you share with Rosita and Tara. You all got along well and honestly, you couldn’t stand the idea of having a whole house to yourself. 

“Ha-ha, we— uh, didn’t have any luck. Ran into an old chemist with like 12 walkers and no supplies.” You tap your nails on the benchtop, glancing upwards to meet Rosita’s knowing expression. We’ll be talking about this later, she had this way of knowing there was more in your words than you let on.

“Those two are adults! Please, think of the poor neighbours.” Carol shakes her head as she dries her hands at the sink, she and Sasha had made some pound cake for this friday’s festivities, Sasha had quickly ducked to her house to change thus, the immediate exclamations from the woman who previously dated her current boyfriend, Abraham.

“God forbid you pass their house at any off hour of the day, the two of ‘em screaming and panting,” Rosita sighs exaggeratedly, continuing to stir the drinks aggressively. 

Every Friday you had happy hour in the kitchen, it was a nice way to keep track of the weeks while winding down from the days and nights endured in between; a reminder you were all alive and able to enjoy it now. Rosita snorted as she continued pouring the drinks while Tara takes a seat at the makeshift bar, raising hands in surrender; “Hey, I’m not complaining yet. Those two were a long time comin’.” 

“Whose together?” Sasha arrives just in time, with a fresh shirt and a cheeky grin and a slight perspiration.

Carol smiles politely, stirring the drinks “I’m just happy the two of you are finally together together.” 

“Real together these days huh.” You smirk knowingly, you and Sasha had shared your sex lives, her newly bountiful one and your lack of one, from sober watch duties to drunken kiss and tells often had on Friday nights, you began screwing the lid onto the whiskey. 

Rosita slapped your arm playfully, giggling like a child who’d gotten away with something naughty. 

“Hey, no use in being embarrassed now.” Tara points out, sipping her drink, eyeing Rosita knowingly. 

“Yeah, you weren’t embarrassed at those times, aye.” Rosita elbows Tara, causing the two to giggle profusely.

“Stop that! Look at her, she’s beet red, poor dear.” Carol glares accusingly at the two, breaking their giggle. Not a moment after you all break into a fit of laughter. A knock at the door stops you all in your tracks, you all look at eachother meaningfully. 

“Who could that be?” Tara sing-songs as Sasha raises her brow in suspicion. 

“It can’t be Abraham, he’s at the house and,” Sasha pauses as the group breaks into knowing laughter, 

“You’ve obviously ridden him out.” Carol finally joins in on the cheeky fun, sipping her drink with a slight blush on her face. Rosita and Tara hit each other playfully as they continued to laugh. 

“Y/N? Ya there?” Daryl’s husky grunt emanated from the front door, making you all stop completely.

“No fucking way.” Sasha’s eyes are wide open as she sets her glass down. They’re all staring at you now, in complete awe. 

“Congrats L/N, I didn’t know you had it in ya.” Tara pats your back supportively, making you fall forward slightly with her heavy hand. 

“I knew you didn’t let on everything that happened this morning, but this isn’t what I was expecting.” Rosita glances at the others pointedly. 

“I didn’t do anything, he’s probably just here to update about this morning’s supply run.” you point out, stirring your drink with your finger before downing in all in one go in an attempt to calm your beating heart. 

“She really doesn’t see it?” Tara looks around the room, raising her hands in exasperation. 

“How can you be so blind?” Sasha follows suit in the frustration. They were all aware of your infatuation and had been encouraging you since they’ve known you, but no matter, you’ve always been stubborn and naive to the works of love. 

“What the hell are you guys on about?” You scoff unconvincingly, you knew they knew and you couldn’t admit it to yourself. Admitting your feelings to yourself, let alone him, would hurt you more; you feel you couldn’t allow yourself to fall even further into this relaxed state of feeling. If you let your guard down, you could lose him. Which was such a ridiculous statement, since Daryl was the one who taught you most of what you know to survive; hunting and long range combat. No matter, it seems anyone who gets close to you dies or leaves: all except him. 

“The man’s in love with you.” Carol says pointedly, looking at you knowingly. She, out of them all, has known you as long as Daryl has, who has known this secret that’s been burning a hole in your pocket since the beginning. She wouldn’t lie, not to you: not about this.

You snort in disbelief, there’s no way that Daryl Dixon, the man that would sacrifice anything for any member of the group, and has never shown interest in anybody platonically, let alone romantically, would have feelings for you of all people.

“How can someone be so smart yet so stupid!” Tara smacks her hands against her face frustratedly.

“You help Michonne with making up laws and charters for the communities: facts. And yet you can’t see the fact right in front of your face.” Carol explains, setting her glass down and staring at you with that look; the look you all know: the look of pure transparency.

“Which is?”

“Dixon wants you.” Rosita finishes, pouring more whiskey into her glass. 

“I go on supply runs with him all the time and he never comes to check up on me afterward,” Tara adds, your brown furrow in thought.

“He also personally brings you food and water on your guard duty days.” Sasha mentions, glancing at Tara in solidarity.

“The lights are on, who is in there?” Daryl’s voice echoes throughout the house, shaking you from your trance.

“Well, if you’re not going to open the door,” Rosita smirks and pauses before leaping up from the bar and breaking into a sprint for the front door. You react slowly, sprinting after her frantically. 

“Fuck you, wait!” Before you can say any more, Rosita has already opened the door to a dishevelled looking Daryl. 

“Good Evening Dixon,” Rosita smiles politely, head leaning on the door.

“Hey Rosita, is Y/N home?”

“Hey Daryl”

“Oh.” Oh. 

Daryl steals a glance down at you, taking in your striped sleeping shorts hiked a little higher than comfortable from sitting down. Your hair is slightly messy, in a cute way, he thinks, as you have trouble making eye contact with his piercing blue eyes, those eyes you know more than the average group member, but are crying out to know more.

“C’we talk?” he grunts, “In priv’te, if thas' alright,.” clearing his throat nervously.

“Sure, just give me a sec, I’ll catch up.” he nods, smiling shyly at Rosita as he tucked his hands behind him, walking down the road.

As you wait for Daryl to be a safe distance away, you say your goodbyes. 

“Ride him like a motorcycle!” Rosita half whispers, half screams grinning as Tara and Sasha whoop from the end of the hall. You shush them impatiently, embarrassed you then shut the door and make your way to Daryl’s side. 

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you fidget, following two or so steps behind him, being even this close to him set your heart on fire, as well as other, nether, regions.

“This mornin’,” Daryl practically spits out, quickening his pace, you follow suit. 

“Is that all? Well you could’ve given me an update back there, why bring me all the way out to,” you pause and take in your surroundings. 

A Few Hours Earlier

“Hey Dayl! Look over there!” Daryl’s head shoots up to look at whatever you were pointing at, an old shop across the road with the word ‘Helen’s Apothecary’ written on it. He doesn’t respond, blankly staring at the building. 

“An old apothecary,” you point out obviously, staring at him pointedly. 

Daryl looked at you incredulously.

You sigh, “Old herbs and meds, probably untouched,” you squint through the Georgian heat of July, from what you could see from your distance, there seemed to be no walkers inside or out. 

“I’m gonna go ahead and check it out,” you hop off the counter your were sitting on, sneaking an indulgent glance at Daryl’s biceps as he ploughs through the limited items on the supermarket shelves. 

You didn’t know it but he could see you so obviously checking him out, he was almost proud of himself, if not for the detail that he wasn’t yours to check out. 

You and him weren’t even on track to being a couple, maybe a couple of friends, but nothing even remotely similar to the fantasies Daryl’s brain has been conjuring nonstop since the day he met you, seemingly worsening the more the pair of you spend time together. 

He was almost grateful for the distance, but your gaze was sweltering and he could feel the tent in his pants already warming up. He coughs awkwardly, adjusting himself in his pants as he uses his red rag to cover his predicament. 

“‘M comin’,” Daryl says simply, slinging his crossbow around his back. 

“You don’t have to do that, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself,” you say pointedly, shrugging your shoulders,

“I wan’ to,” he grunts as he begins to make his way over to the store, and you jog to catch up with him. 

"'Sides, if there's really as much as ya let on in 'ere, you'll need all the help ya can get,"

He’s knelt down, about to open the door when he feels your gaze on him, he turns slowly to you, arms crossed. 

“Found this place fair and square Dixon, shove over,” you kneel down and shuffle over until you’re shoulder to shoulder with him, he feels his cheeks warming up and before you can notice, he stands up; turning around to keep duty. 

“Whatever you say, L/N.” he mumbles, handing over the pick lock.

You snort, taking them in your hands as you attempt to break the chain, with each manoeuvre it seems you’ve barely made any progress. Frustrated, you take the hammer from your belt,

“Fuck it,” you grunt, smashing the glass door near the handle, unlocking it from the inside.

“What, the fuck is wrong with you.” Daryl says, a smile threatening to break at your situation. 

“I got it open, didn’t I?” you raise a brow, smiling. You put your hammer back in your belt and turn your flashlight on, he follows suit, taking his crossbow off his back, holding it up in defence. 

You take in your surroundings, the place is absolutely chock-a-block full of supplies. You gasp at your discovery, “You seein’ this?” you laugh, grinning like an idiot as you run through each isle in absolute awe. This will save so many lives. 

“Well, shit. Not bad L/N,” Daryl allows himself to crack a small smile, gazing at your overjoyed figure running through the store. 

“I think we’re gonna need bigger bags to fit all of this,” before you can continue, an arrow flies past your head, you turn in shock to find a dead walker at your feet. You sigh, “Thanks Dary—,” Daryl’s hand is covering your mouth, he’s so close to you, he pushes you against the wall and points to the front windows, you see a car full of men, large military grade weapons and frightening looks on their faces, before you can even react he takes his other hand and places his index finger on his lips, as he looks around for a way out, his heart is beating out of his chest.

He knew he shouldn’t have taken that shortcut you suggested on the way here, people must’ve heard the loud thrum of his motorcycle. He brought you out here just to see you die, it seems. 

Finally spotting a door towards the back of the store, he guides you to it. Ushering you in and shutting the door behind him. As he turns around to meet your eyes, wide and terrified. 

“What the fuck do we do?” Only then does Daryl notice the lack of space in this room. With the surrounding walls covered in cleaning shelves, you are forced to almost be pressed against one another. If he breathed hard enough, he reckons his chest would meet yours. He scrunches his eyes in frustration. 

“My bike is out there in the bushes hidden, if they’re as stupid as they look, we’ll be safe.” he assures, hands held together. 

“For now.” you sigh, looking anywhere but at him, which proved difficult as your neck was craning in this tight space. 

“Jus’ gotta hole up here until they leave,” he whispers, adjusting his posture; however long it took, it was gonna be excruciating.

“Wherever it is we’re going.” Daryl grunts in response, you continue to follow him down the Alexandrian streets, absolutely oblivious and wishing you brought your glass with you.

“Jus’, follow me.” he sounds frustrated, more frustrated than usual you acknowledge. His hands are rigid fists at his side, knuckles turning white as he continues to trudge down the street, turning another corner; you know where you’re headed.

You reach Carol and Daryl’s house as Daryl opens the front door, not bothering to hold it open like he usually does, he opens the basement door and trudges downstairs in a huff. You’re practically sprinting after him at this point. 

Once you reach his room he makes a beeline for his workbench, slamming his hands onto it with a loud thud. You jump, suddenly terrified. 

“What the fuck Daryl?” you shout, squaring your shoulders. There’s no way he’s going to drag you across half the town just to get mad at you, no way in hell you’re letting that happen.

More silence follows, you stand there, not knowing what to do, then you sigh;

“Can you just tell me what’s going on? I feel like I’m going crazy.” you say, evenly. A moment passes before he slowly turns to face you, his eyes never meet yours. 

“Sorry,” he starts, eyes darting around the room, looking for anything more interesting to look at, but there isn’t. 

“I jus’, don’ know if I can handle this anymore,” your brows soften, taking a few steps towards him in concern, he cowers away almost immediately. 

“Handle what?” you impatiently blurt, hands on your hips. 

“You don’ get it do ya?” he rasps, eyes suddenly meeting yours, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“If you tell me what’s the matter, I might be able to help you!” you cry, attempting to meet his avoidance eyes.

“Help me? You couldn’t even help yerself this mornin’!” He yells, pointing to the general direction of this morning's scavenge. 

“And how would you know what’s best for me huh?”

That seemed to strike a nerve, his whole body seemed to tense at the question. He shifts awkwardly, when he looks back at you he glances at your eyes before fixing his gaze at the trees behind you. 

“Trust me girl, I know,”

“Aww you’re just such a good guy, takin’ care of me like I'm your little sister! Guess what Daryl, I’m not.” You lean forward and straighten yourself up as best you can, chest heaving in frustration. 

“What ya see me as yer older brother?” Daryl dares to take a step forward, lighting this candle, you don’t reply. Looking back to when you first met one another, you knew that you could never see him in the way you so desperately hoped for. 

Daryl grunts, “Thought so,”

“Excuse me?” your brows furrow in frustration, crossing your arms around yourself in exasperation. 

What you don’t realise is Daryl’s sorry attempt in not looking at your now pushed-out breasts in your particularly low-cut top. Daryl glares at you obviously. 

“What happened this morning—”

“Should’ve happened long ago.” your breath catches in your throat, you can’t believe your ears. 

“Why would you say that?” you question, carefully: the situation seeming a lot more delicate than previously realised.

“I would’a known,” he looks away, brows furrowed, “would’a realised it.” Daryl rambles, gaze stuck on the floor. 

“Would’ve realised what, Daryl?”

“‘ave been fuckin’ stupid since the start,” He spits, pacing back and forth. You stand there, looking particularly stupid. 

“We were fuckin’ stuck: pressed up against each other all morning, and yer tellin’ me ya don’ get it!?” he yells, pausing to compose himself. 

“‘Fore it was all muddled, if I—” he paused for a beat and stared down at you, but before you could comment, his hands were on your shoulders, pushing you into the wall, pressing his body against yours; you could feel his hands shake. 

“I’m sweet on ya,” Daryl doesn’t break eye contact, his body flush against yours. You can feel each other's heavy, shallow breathing: chest to chest, heart to heart. Just the same as this morning. You almost lean into him, you feel safe in his warmth. 

“Ya got anything to say about that?” 

“I—” you begin, your throat caught in your throat, you can’t think of what to say. 

“I can’t,”

“Ya can,”

“Daryl, I really can’t,”

“Say it again,”

“Sorry?”

“The part where you say my name,” you pause, staring into his eyes, his beautiful, crystal blue eyes and you know in this moment, you can no longer hide your affections.

“Say it again, Y/N, please,”

You sigh, closing your eyes momentarily, afraid of the reaction you’ll get, you feel Daryl's large hand envelop your own, squeezing it encouragingly.

“Daryl.” you breathe, feeling all the nerves shot up like lightning at the sound of your voice, breathy and flustered. You feel like you’ve left your body, simply witnessing the event taking place.

“Now say it.”

“You know I can’t Daryl.”

“I don’t want to hurt our relationship, I— I can’t: I don’t want you to not talk to me again.” 

“You know that’ll never happen, Y/N.”

With deep breaths, you try to calm down. But the proximity of Daryl and his intense gaze aren’t helping things. 

“Jus’ tell me ya got something on ya mind— so we can stop dancin’ ‘round what’s goin’ on ‘ere.” he rasps, continuing to stare at you. 

“I—I,”

“It’s okay, darlin’.”

It didn’t feel okay, especially as you said the words, those words you kept in your heart, to yourself, didn’t even let Rosita or Carol know, the words you didn’t want to accept were how you feel; but say you do.

“I love you, Daryl.”

A beat, you close your eyes as time seems to stop. You feel your heart beating from your chest, and the occasional tremble of your breathing. 

Before you can elaborate, Daryl closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours roughly. You reciprocate, pressing yourself against him, he continues to kiss your lips, your cheek, down your jaw and your neck. 

“Yer,” he kisses your lips, “As stubborn,” he kisses his way down your cheek, “As,” he continues pressing kisses down your jaw as you lean into him, mouth open in ecstasy, “A Mule,” he kisses your mouth again, hands on your hips as he presses himself against you. You break the kiss, and breathily reply.

“As stubborn as you.” you moan into another kiss, placing a hand in his hair as he grabs onto your ass. 

“Been wanting to say it to you since the beginning—God have I been this naive for so long?”

“Jus’ shut up.” he breathes, kneading your ass as he sucks on your neck, spurred on by your moans.

His arm drops down to your leg, hoisting it up and wrapping it against his hips, he begins to grind into your core as you attempt to match his rhythm; the friction making it hard to hold back your voice. 

He licks the mark he left on you before sliding his tongue inside your mouth, open mouth and moaning as you feel your breath catching and pushing him off you before you get carried away.

The pair of you stare at each other, flustered and breathing heavily. 

“You alright? Wanna stop?” Daryl inquires, chest still heaving. You grab a hold of his forearms, rubbing them up and down. 

“God no.” you gasp, 

“Good,” he grunts, he lifts his shirt up. 

“You let me know, if ya wanna stop.”

Still breathing heavily, you lean into his touch, holding onto his large bicep as he devours your neck, leaving love marks in his tow, he guides you back onto his bed as you shuffle up the bed, Daryl on top of you.

"I'm gonna make sure everyone knows who's claimed ya," Daryl grunts between licking and sucking your neck, one hand on your hip and the other at your jaw, gently guiding your neck as he tries to suck deeper in your neck.

Pulling away you take your shirt off with the help of Daryl, you lie down, lifting your pelvis up and he slides your shirts off, you look down to your clearly soaked panties, taking a deep breath as he rubs his chin.

“Fuck,” you smile up at him, you hook your leg around his and with all your body weight on him, you tun him on his back, straddling him.

Daryl holds you up as you rub your pussy along the length of his cock, coating him with your slick, you wish you could drag this out longer but you’re so turned on the only thought crossing your mind is feeling Daryl inside of you. He stays still as you position yourself on top of him and closes his eyes with a deep groan when you slowly sick down on his cock.

His sheer size almost sends you over the edge, pausing for a moment you stay still. Daryl runs his hands up your legs and sides, and over your stomach. Your skin prickles with the heat simply from his touch, your nipples hardening. His large hands cup your breasts and that’s that.

“‘M gonna take good care of ya, sunshine,” he smirks up at you, that cheeky boyish charm seeping through.

Driving yourself up and down on him, Daryl’s cock in and out of you rough. You can’t look away, the look of greed and desire in Daryl’s face takes your breath away.

You lean forward, letting him lean in and hungrily take your breasts in his mouth, the way he sucks and licks at you, Daryl drives you so wild you ride him harder than you would any of the motorcycles his hand over the years, his girth filling you, driving you over the edge; leaning back your mouth hangs open, his name tumbling over your lips.

He’s holding onto your hips now, pushing up into you with short, hard thrusts while your muscles tense and clench around him, he massages your clit in between frenzied thrusts. Daryl quickly pulls out of you, causing you pair to gasp at the feeling, moaning as he paints his stomach with his spend. 

You collapse on top of him, exhausted, hair damp with perspiration, he begins stroking your hair while leaving tender kisses on top of your head. 

“You held your end of the bargain,”

You lift your head to look him in the eye, “Rode me like a cowboy more like it, though.” he grins, completely satisfied. 

“Shut up.” you can’t help but smile at that.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I had a lot of fun making it, comments and feedback is much appreciated.

My requests are OPEN! DM, Ask, Comment. I'm active as shit I'll see it and try my best to get to you <3

My AO3

[arliedraws]

I know people believe that pre-Azkaban, 1979-1981 Sirius would be very Bowie obsessed, but I like to think that his Muggle musical taste (if he had any interest) would be something like a type of jazz that’s too complicated for regular people to get into, OR 70s rock that evokes the American Southwest. (Also, since the wix community seems to be a few years behind the Muggle community culturally, I think it would make sense if Sirius weren’t necessarily ‘up to date’ on popular music—ESPECIALLY since he’s busy fighting in a vigilante group against Voldemort.)

Like I have a hc that he really wanted to ride through the desert with his cool leather jacket, cruising from town to town, no one telling him what to do, etc. I just feel like American Muggle Motorcyclist Harley Davidson Diesel-Smell Guy is SO antithetical to pureblood magical Britain.

Anyway, I like to think Allman Brothers’ “Midnight Rider,” The Hollies (a British band!) “Long Cool Woman,” or anything Creedence Clearwater are right up his alley.

[guardianlegends64]

[Open RP] Ghost Rider “The Spirit of Vengeance”

It was a Calm Night in the City of Tokyo Where the streets were Calm and Peaceful as there weren’t any people Walking around and Any cars driving around but the peace didn’t last long as there was a Storm coming it wasn’t raining but thunders were heard as there was Motorcycle Rumbling loudly coming from afar and as it was no ordinary Motorcyclist it was Someone Much More Powerful, Angrier, and Scarier who Protects the innocent from the Guilty

As the Rumblings Began to be heard closely from inside the city of Tokyo the Motorcyclist heard Someone screaming as he Went towards the location and Lands in the middle of the of where the screaming started as he sees Two Men trying to hurt a young woman as his Flames of his Motorcycle were real and he gets off his vehicle he had a Flaming Skull and a Black Jacket with Heavy and Reinforced Material as he looks at The Two Men who were trying to harass the young woman he Says….

” You Two GUILTY” he said with an Angry and hellish Like Voice as he grabs one of them the man stabbed him with a knife but when the Motorcyclist looks the man took out the knife and it melted as the Motorcyclist says with fires around his Skull “ Look Into my Eyes Your Souls are Stained With the Blood of The Innocent! FEEL THEIR PAIN! “ The Man Went into Penance as the other assailant tried to do attack him with a Knife though when he Took the Knife off it Melted as well and then he was also given penance… he checks on the Young Woman as he sees that she isn’t Human But someone different “….Who….Are…You….” He asks her in his ghostly and hellish voice as his Skull of Fire slowly moves

[lostgirlmuseum]

The Swan and the Soldier

^made w/ pinterest

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x f!dancer!reader

Summary: Bucky is signed up to act in the Nutcracker against his will. But it isn’t all bad. At least not after he meets the cute costume designer. 

Words: 5.6k (oops)

Warnings: Mention of an injury + brief description of pain, poor writing at times, lemme know if I missed anything

A/N: I really hope this isn't complete dog shit

(Dividers by me😎)

“You want me to what?”

Bucky dropped his sandwich back onto his plate.

“I was gonna do it but I’m too busy to make every rehearsal.”

Bucky had been staying in Louisiana for the past month, finally taking a break from going from fight to fight. Sam encouraged him to stay with him at Sarah’s place, which Bucky did for a while, but after a couple of weeks, he decided to rent his own place. He was still near to Sam, and was at his house nearly every day, seeing as he was only a fifteen-minute drive away. Bucky just felt like less of a burden this way. 

“And I’m not busy?” Bucky countered, staring at Sam from across the kitchen table, where they were taking a quick lunch break before getting back to the boat.

“Well—” 

“Shut up.”

“It would mean so much to AJ. It’s his first dance recital and I think he would be a lot less nervous if someone he knew was on stage with him.”

“I’m not a ballerina, Sam.”

“You don’t have to be!” He quickly uttered, putting down his own sandwich. “They just need a couple of parent volunteers to step in and play the adults at the beginning of the show.”

“I haven’t liked dancing since the 40’s. And I don’t know how I feel about being on stage. Would I have to wear a costume?”

“It’s the Nutcracker.” Sam raised an eyebrow and gave Bucky a judgmental once over. “I don’t think it fits the show to have you dressed like an angsty motorcyclist.”

“Sam, I don’t think I can—”

“Uncle Bucky!” A cheerful voice entered the room as AJ came bounding up to the table.

“Hey, kid,” Bucky smiled, giving the boy a quick fist bump. 

“Uncle Sam told me you would be a part of my recital!”

“He said what now?”

“What?” AJ asked, oblivious.

“Nothing, I—AJ, could you give Uncle Sam and me a second?”

AJ nodded and skipped back outside into the sun. Bucky glared over at Sam.

“So maybe I jumped the gun a bit…”

“Samuel.”

“You can say no,”

“You know I can’t say no now!” Bucky flung his hands out, exasperated. 

“You can! You’ll just disappoint him. But if that’s what you want to do—” Sam trailed off, taking a bite out of his turkey and provolone. 

“This is manipulation.”

“Is it working?” Sam mumbled and swallowed.

Bucky shook his head and stared at his plate. “You owe me.”

“Big time! Promise.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Bucky mumbled, planting his face in his palms.

“Rehearsals are Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Sam got up from the table and grabbed his now empty plate, “you’re making the kid really happy.”

“Yeah, yeah. To be clear, I am doing this for him. Not you. I don’t give a shit about you.” He pointed.

“Love you too, Buddy.” 

Bucky found himself that very Thursday at the ballet studio, in a small group of parents, as a petite young woman—well, she looked about 60, but compared to Bucky, she was young—introduced herself, a southern accent clear in her cheery tone.

“Welcome parents and volunteers! Most of you already know me, but I’m Ms. Cindy, the head of this program and this year’s Nutcracker! I’d like to start by thanking all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here and support us and your children. It’s you who keep this dance studio up and running, and I’m so grateful for that. Throughout today, you’ll each get called to get your measurements taken so we can be sure that the costumes are ready before the performance. And as for roles, we’ll figure that out at the end of class. I have to go teach the little ones, but feel free to take a seat and watch the choreography your students have been learning all season!”

Bucky followed the others, who seemed to already be acquainted with each other, into a small observing room attached to the studio where AJ was practicing. Bucky stuck himself in the back corner and watched AJ through the one-sided mirror for only a couple of minutes when his name was suddenly called.

“James Barnes?” 

Bucky looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway. He ignored the glances that turned his way as he followed the woman out the door.

Did they know who he was? Did they know what he had done? Or maybe they had no idea. Maybe they were judging him for not engaging with them in polite conversation, maybe they thought he was weird for hiding silently in the corner. 

Bucky pushed the thoughts out of his head as the (attractive, he might add,) woman opened the door for him into a new room. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t a closet either, and Bucky immediately noted the lines of clothing racks stuffed with colorful dresses that lined the walls.

“I just need to get your measurements quickly for your costume. I can take them now, or if you’re more comfortable, I can send you a list of measurements I need and you can get those numbers to me on Thursday if you’d prefer.” 

Bucky thought for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure how to take his own measurements, and he sure as hell did not want Sam of all people helping him. On the other hand, having a stranger so close to him sounds embarrassing and stressful. But he saw the kindness in her eyes, and oddly enough, he felt he could trust her.

“Now is fine."

“Sounds good.” She gave the sweetest smile he had ever seen and told him where to stand. He took off his jacket with ease, feeling somewhat comfortable knowing he had a long-sleeved shirt under to hide his metal arm. He kept his leather gloves on, and she said nothing.

She demonstrated to him how to hold his arm, and he obeyed, holding his right arm out and bent at the elbow. She chatted as she brought the tape measure along his arm. “Which kid is yours?”

“Oh, none of them.” 

He noticed the subtle tilt of her head.

“I mean, I’m not a dad, but I’m AJ’s uncle. Well, a friend of his uncle but,”

Luckily, she stopped his ramble before he could truly embarrass himself.

“Oh, you’re Bucky?” She dropped the tape to her side and smiled. “I’ve met Sam a couple times, but I’ve heard all about you and him from Sarah.”

“Oh? All good things I hope?” 

He asked in a lighthearted tone, but in reality, he was terrified of the things she’d heard about him.

“Only good things.” She grinned and grabbed the pencil behind her ear to scribble a number on a chart.

“That’s a relief.” His eyes scanned the room, trying to think up conversation to fill the silence. “So are you a parent volunteer?”

“Not a parent, no. I used to be a part of this program growing up. It’s done so much for me, and I wanted to stay connected, so I help out here and there when I can. I mostly fit the costumes.”

“That’s cool.” 

Cool. Cool. Cool response Bucky. Ask her a question, dammit.

“Do you still dance?”

“Not anymore. Can you put both arms out to the side please?” She asked, and Bucky lifted his arms so she could measure his chest. She continued to make conversation as she wrapped the tape around him. “AJ is a great student. He has a lot of potential, he just needs to find his confidence. And he’s a great kid. You’re a lucky uncle.”

“I am,” Bucky responded, trying desperately to not freak out at how close she was to him, and how she was only going lower, as she moved to his waist.

She took a break to write down a couple more numbers and returned to him.

“Now I need a hip measurement, so I have to measure around your butt. Is that okay?”

Bucky gave a convincing nod. “Do what you gotta do.”

‘Do what you gotta do’? What the hell am I saying?

He avoided looking at her and held his breath as she brought the tape around his hips.

“Just a couple more measurements and you’ll be out of here,” she assured, dropping the tape from his hips. “You can put your arms down now.”

Bucky let his arms rest at his sides.

She quickly went about measuring his legs and finished a couple of minutes later.

“You’re all good to go, Mr. Barnes, thank you!” 

“You can call me Bucky,” he tried to hide his bashful smile and started to exit out the door, but stopped and turned at the last moment. “What was your name again?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N.” 

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

He liked the way it felt on his tongue. With that, he said goodbye and returned to the observing room.

Thirty minutes later class was nearly over. All that was left on the agenda for the day was to form the groups.

“So it seems we have an odd number…Lois, is this everyone?” Ms. Cindy asked, looking over to her assistant.

“Everyone that signed up, yes.” Lois, a shorter girl with an auburn bob, tapped on a clipboard.

“Let’s just see how this goes. Mr. and Mrs. Tudor will be group one, Mr. and Mrs. Malone will be group two, Mrs. and Mrs. Cardoza will be group three, and that leaves Mr. Barnes…”

“We could have him be a single parent to his group?” Lois offered, looking up from her list.

“We could, but then who would he dance with at the party scene?”

Bucky swore he saw a literal lightbulb light up above Ms. Cindy’s head as her gaze fixated somewhere in the back of the room where you were simply passing by.

“Oh, Y/N? Dear?” She called in a uniquely falsetto voice.

“Yes, Ms. Cindy?” Y/N answered, pausing.

“I realize you’re already doing our costumes, but would you be interested in volunteering as one of the parents? We are short a person.”

“Oh, um…”

“You can think about it Dear. It’s no trouble if you feel that it’ll take up too much time, we appreciate you for your dedication to the costumes.” Ms. Cindy was careful to add.

Despite her initial hesitance, Y/N spoke up.

“I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” Ms. Cindy blinked, surprised by the answer.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “yes. I’ve already got measurements, all I need to do is submit an order. And I can’t tailor anything anyways until the shipment comes in.”

“A round of applause for our beautiful and dedicated Y/N, everyone!” Ms. Cindy cheered and began clapping her hands in a circle. The parents all joined in, and Bucky gave a quiet few claps. “That means Mr. Barnes and Y/N will play the fourth couple. Splendid!”

Lois tapped Ms. Cindy on the shoulder and pointed to her watch. Time was almost up. Ms. Cindy was fast to get back to business.

“Now let’s quickly assign each group their children, and then we can end rehearsal.”

“Buck, I’ve got some good news.” Sam’s voice flowed through Bucky’s phone.

It was Tuesday morning, and Bucky had been up and dressed since seven in the morning, eager to pick AJ up, even though class wasn’t until 5 p.m. He was currently lying on the couch, watching the clock tick by.

“What, you finally learned to use the potty like a big boy?” Bucky mocked.

“It was one time. ONE. TIME. You know I don’t fuck with clowns!”

“I don’t like clowns either, but you don’t see me shitting myself at the Halloween Festival.” Bucky quietly chuckled.

“First of all, I didn’t ‘shit’ myself. I peed. A little. And second of all, I had a lot of hot chocolate beforehand, and my bladder was at max capacity, and—why the hell am I explaining this to you?”

“Because you know I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“Moving on,” Sam sighed, “I was calling to tell you that you don’t need to be in the performance with AJ anymore.”

Bucky shot up from his lying position. “What do you mean?”

“My schedule freed up a bunch so I can take AJ and be in the show now.”

“Oh.”

Bucky slumped back onto the cushions, dejection dripping from his voice. Sam clearly picked up on it.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh’? I thought this was good news for you. I know I forced it onto you and all, and your thing isn’t really being on stage in front of a bunch of people.”

Bucky picked at the edges of his fingers, carefully considering his next words.

“I mean it’s not my thing, but—I don’t know, I feel like I’ve committed. And I get to spend some time with AJ, y’know? And, truth be told, it’s not all bad.”

There was a pause on the line before Sam’s voice rang through.

“That’s awfully sweet Buck. And very out of character for you.”

“Shut the fuck up, I can be nice.”

“Yes, of course. Bucky Barnes, the world’s famous sweetheart, how could I forget?”

“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky warned.

“Bye, metal man.”

“Fuck off bird brain.” Bucky was about to hang up, but quickly added in a serious tone, “I’ll be there this afternoon to pick AJ up.”

“You’re a good man.”

“Whatever.”

“Welcome back everybody!” Ms. Cindy’s high voice rang. “We are going to practice the beginning of the show where the families enter the party. We’ll take it group by group, so let’s start with group one, the Tudors. Your family is super excited for this party, so we’ll have you enter stage right and I need the children to be skipping and bubbly.”

Ms. Cindy instructed the groups one by one. Eventually, she got to Bucky’s group, which he shared with you and four kids, including AJ.

“And our final group, group four, is the family that does not want to attend. The parents should be trying to get the kids to smile, and at least act like they are happy to be there.”

Bucky let you take the lead and simply followed what you did. He walked beside you, stopped when you stopped, turned when you turned.

“Good, now make it look like you are trying to get the kids to smile.”

Bucky copied the way you pointed to your cheery smile and did his best to ignore the embarrassment bubbling in his chest. 

The comically grumpy—and much better actors than him—kids sighed and plastered on cheery expressions. 

“Good, and you can continue walking.” Ms. Cindy ordered.

Group four finished the short trek across the stage successfully. For such a simple task, Bucky had felt surprisingly nervous. 

Ms. Cindy quickly gave her praise and ordered everyone to start over. As Bucky and his group were going back to the line, she offered some advice.

“Y/N and Mr. Barnes, could you try holding hands? You don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else.”

Bucky gulped. Of course you don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else, all the other couples are actually couples, and married for God’s sake!

You, on the other hand, simply said “Okay.”

“Group one, go,” Ms. Cindy called, and the Tudors began to cross the makeshift stage.

The line moved forward, and Bucky with it. He began to sweat a little. 

Hold your hand? With my left hand? My metal hand?

She simply glanced at him and gave him a small smile.

“And group two,” Ms. Cindy called.

Everyone stepped forward.

The good news is that Bucky was wearing his gloves, but surely she’d notice his hand felt different and think he was weird. Although, did she already know about his arm situation? She did mention that she’d heard about him and Sam from Sarah. Maybe she already knew, and wouldn’t care?

“Group three!”

Bucky looked back at the kids trailing behind him and spotted AJ beaming right back at him. Suddenly, Bucky felt ridiculous. 

Bucky, you’re being an idiot. Be a man and hold her hand. It’s not that deep. You’re doing this for AJ.

“And four,”

He grabbed her hand and started to walk with her. The first thing he noticed was how small her hand felt in his. It gave him an unfamiliar tingly feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but it was better than anxiety.

He tried his best to puff out his chest and mimic her confidence as they walked. Bucky stopped halfway through, like they were supposed to, and turned to face the kids like last time. He pretended to point to his smile and finished the walk across the stage.

“Excellent! Let’s move on.”

Bucky managed to make it through the entire class without sweating his clothes off from nerves. 

“You ready to go, AJ?” 

AJ yelped, “Wait! I want you to meet one of my friends!” He dramatically waved over to a little girl with a sunflower barrette in her hair who came skipping over. “This is Ava.”

“Hi, Ava.” Bucky gave an awkward smile.

The little girl looked up at him unphased. 

“Hi, Mr. Bucky. So are you really a superhero?”

Straight to the point, huh? “Oh—um,”

“He is!” AJ butted in, “He’s friends with my Uncle Sam, they save the world all the time!”

Ava crossed her arms across her chest and jutted a leg out.

“So can you fly?” She squinted.

“Nope, I can’t fly.” Bucky began to rub the back of his neck.

“Can’t your Uncle Sam fly?” She asked, looking at AJ with skepticism.

“Yep!”

“So if you can’t fly, what can you do?”

Before Bucky could even begin to stutter, Y/N appeared.

“Hey, Ava! I think your mom is looking for you.” She said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

“Okay, I gotta go. Bye AJ,” Ava quickly spouted and ran off towards the doors.

“Bye!” AJ shouted.

Bucky noticed Y/N holding his blue cap out to him.

“I think you forgot your hat.” She spoke softly. 

“Didn’t even realize, thanks.”

“It’s no problem, Bucky.”

Bucky was about to give a lopsided grin when AJ interjected,

“Only friends and family call him that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! James, then.” She brought her hand to her cheek.

“No, no, Bucky is fine,” Bucky quickly corrected, “you can call me Bucky.”

“You’re sure? I don’t mean to overstep,”

“You aren’t, I like it when you call me Bucky.” 

He instantly felt his cheeks get warm at his confession. Before she could respond, he quickly changed the subject.

“Oh, by the way, I wanted to let you know that I can’t be here at the next rehearsal. AJ will be here, but I completely forgot that I’ve got an appointment that day.” A monthly check-in with Dr. Raynor that he forgot to move. “I don’t know if you want me to meet somewhere instead, or I can just come early on Tuesday and you can catch me up to speed or…I mean whatever you think is best.”

“If you want, we can meet on Friday at my place. I can send you the address if you’d like?”

“Yeah, yes, sure, let me get my phone—” he fumbled while grabbing it out of his pocket, “what’s your number?”

“Hey, come on in!” Y/N appeared behind the crisp white door of a cute house, not unlike the Wilson’s, and gestured inside before grimacing. “Sorry, I should’ve asked before, are you cool with dogs?”

Bucky nodded.

She gave a sigh of relief and fully opened the door. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the graying corgi staring back at him.

“This is Frank,” Y/N said, bending down to bring the panting dog into her arms.

“Hi, Frank.” Bucky greeted, giving the dog gentle pets with his right hand. “Your house is lovely,” he added after catching a glance around.

“Oh, thanks!” She smiled, walking into the living room area to set the dog down on the couch. “This is actually my parent’s house, I’m just house and dog sitting for the week while they’re out of town. Usually, I live in my apartment.”

“Is this where you grew up?” Bucky asked, eyes searching the place. He noted the multitude of picture frames lining the wall and the slightly worn couch.

“The first eighteen years of my life. I told myself I’d be out of Louisiana by the time I went to college, but clearly that didn’t happen.” 

“Where did you want to go?”

“New York, San Francisco, I don’t know, maybe even Australia or France.” she laughed at the absurdity and sighed. “C’est la vie,” 

Bucky stuck his thumbs in his pockets and stared down at his feet, unsure of what to do next.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Iced Tea? I can make some coffee. Are you hungry?”

“Just water is fine,”

“Sure, one second.”

Bucky took the opportunity to explore the room. His curiosity was set on the shelf beside the fireplace, and the multitude of shiny awards it adorned. 

Several faux gold figures of ballerinas and a plaque filled the space, as well as what looked to be a photo album. Bucky thought better than to touch it, however, he did notice the significant lack of dust on it compared to the trophies. 

“I see the obnoxious shrine of my dancing days has caught your attention.”

Bucky spun around, cheeks a little pink at the notion of being caught wandering. He was looking for the right thing to say as you took a seat on the couch and placed the water on the coasters.

“Looks like you’re an amazing dancer.” He nodded, hoping that it was the appropriate thing to say.

She ducked her head at the compliment. “I was okay.” She pointed to just beyond his shoulder at the photo album. “You can look at it if you want,” she offered, clearly sensing his curiosity.

Bucky grabbed the binder from its spot on the shelf and took a seat next to her. He slowly opened the book to the first page. 

There you were, 4 years old in a bright pink tutu, beaming at the camera. The page was covered in cute stickers and artistic swirls. 

“My mom has a knack for crafty things,” she said, vaguely gesturing to the book.

Bucky hummed and began to gingerly flip through the pages. It was odd but endearing seeing you change through each photo and page, but one thing that stayed constant was your eyes. In every photo they had the same sparkle, the same light. It looked so right on you, but he didn’t recognize it in you now.

Bucky stopped on the page dedicated to age 17 and marveled at the costume you were wearing. He couldn’t look away from the intricate feathers and sequins.

“That was for our Spring production of Swan Lake.”

Bucky turned to see a subtle smile on her lips. She was looking at the book, but it seemed as if she was seeing right through it.

“You were the swan?”

“Odette, yeah.”

Bucky turned the page once more, except this time there was no photo—just the outline of where one would be on a mostly blank page, minus the glittering bold number “18”.

“Anyway, the choreography,” she quickly chimed, her attitude dramatically changing, “I’ve got the video right here, we can watch it first.”

She snatched the album up and placed it back on the shelf before handing him her phone. Bucky watched the thirty-second clip of two of the volunteers—possibly the Tudors if he remembered correctly—as they danced a shockingly simple routine.

“That’s it?” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“That’s it.” She assured. “Ready to try it?”

“I might be a little rusty, it’s been a while since I’ve danced.”

She turned on the music and started counting under her breath.

They started by facing each other, their right palms in front of them, and placed against each other. They both took a step in, a step out and circled around the other to which they were now in the opposite places. She curtsied, he bowed, and then they repeated the step in, step out, switch. Now they stood next to each other, and she held her arm out over his. They took three steps forward, and the music grew into a faster tempo.

“Easy enough?” Y/N asked, grabbing her phone to stop the music.

It was suspiciously simple, Bucky thought, but then again, the adults were just a small addition to the show. It’s really about the kids.

“We can make this more interesting.” He remarked.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s try it again.” Bucky gestured to her phone.

She obliged and restarted the music.

They went through the routine again, all the way to the end at which the music began to speed up. As Y/N went to pause the music again, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her in. She gave a surprised gasp, but Bucky wasn’t regretful once he saw the smile on her face. He pulled himself back and began to spin her around and basked in her soft laughs. After pulling her back in again, and dancing around each other, he dipped her. She wrapped her right leg around him in response and he hoped she didn’t notice his smirk transform into a blush. 

“Alright Mr. ‘I might be a little rusty’, someone has moves!” 

Bucky helped her up once she removed her leg. 

“I used to be better,” he mumbled.

“None of that,” she softly chided, bringing his chin up, “where did that confidence just go?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’ll keep practicing, then you’ll see,” he simpered.

Time went on and not a day went by that Bucky didn’t think of you. After weeks of practice, it was finally dress rehearsal. Bucky was surprisingly calm even though they were no longer practicing in a studio, but in the local high school’s theater, in full costume. You held his hand through it—literally, for some parts—and Bucky was grateful for it.

It was Friday night, the final rehearsal before the show the next day, and Bucky was just about to drive off when he realized how cold his hand felt against the steering wheel. He cursed himself and ran back inside, luckily finding his leather gloves sitting on a chair in the wings of the stage. Right as he was about to scamper off, he noticed a figure at the very front of center stage. He recognized her immediately, and without a second thought, he approached from the darkness of the sides and into the light of the stage. She had already changed out of her ballgown and was back in black leggings.

“Hey.” He uttered, slowly taking a seat next to her at the end of the stage. He let his legs dangle over the edge.

“Hey,” she gasped, bringing a hand to her heart. “Sorry, I thought everyone had left.”

“I forgot my gloves.” 

“Seems like you have a habit of forgetting things,” she teased.

“Only when it comes to clothing, apparently.”

“Is AJ not waiting for you?”

“No, he left with a friend. He’s got a sleepover with Marshall tonight.”

“Gotcha.”

A thoughtful quiet settled over them, but Bucky couldn’t ignore the somberness in her eyes, gazing over the expanse of empty velvet seats.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you stop dancing?”

She was quiet for a minute. Bucky started to think she wasn’t going to answer, but eventually, she whispered,

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

She began mindlessly rubbing her knee.

“I tore my ACL my senior year. It was our annual production of The Nutcracker and I was cast as the Sugar Plum Fairy. There was a rumor that some influential talent scouts were going to be attending. So when my knee started hurting I ignored it. I didn’t tell anyone. I worked my ass off and pushed myself harder when I really should have been resting, but I was stupid.” She gave Bucky a short glance. “Opening night came, and so did my solo. Everything was going fine until I heard a pop. Next thing I know my leg is on fucking fire and I’m hitting the ground.

“I embarrassed myself and our entire company. My knee took longer to heal than it should have because of more poor choices I made. What should have been nine months of healing turned into years. By the time it was safe enough to start dancing again, it was too late. I was too far behind my peers. Even still I sometimes have issues with it.”

Bucky simply nodded, taking in her words.

“I tell myself I’m over it because it was so long ago. But deep down I know I’m not. I’ve asked my parents to take down all of my stupid awards, at least store them away somewhere, because it’s just some sick reminder of what I lost. Actually, the whole reason I started volunteering in the first place is because my mom told me I should. Said it could be good for me. She never said so, but I really think she was hoping that by being surrounded by ballet again, I would feel motivated to begin training again. But it’s a pipe dream.”

She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.

“All I ever was was a dancer. And a good one. It was the only thing I was good at, besides sewing, but I only learned that after I injured myself. The whole town knew me as the dancer. I guess the problem with having my entire identity wrapped around one thing is that when that thing goes away…well, who are you? Who am I, if not the girl who’s going to be on the stage one day? My entire identity was ripped from me.

“I’ve just been wading through life. Time keeps moving and crashing around me, but I haven’t changed. I still don’t know who I am, besides the girl who could’ve been great. And now I’m just—stuck.”

Her eyes went wide for a second before squeezing them shut as if she had forgotten she wasn’t alone.

“God, I’m so sorry, you didn’t need to know all of that—”

“No, I—” Bucky stopped her and hesitated to rest his hand on hers. “I can empathize. I hate that you had to go through that. That you’re still going through it. I can understand not knowing who you are anymore.

“A long time ago, I used to be someone else. I used to be charming, independent… happy. But after I was drafted my identity was no longer my own. I was a fighter. I belonged to the army. And then I belonged to Hydra. And even after, I belonged to the Avengers, the world, whoever needed me to fight, I was their soldier. But I’m tired.” At those words, Bucky slumped. “I don’t want to fight anymore. But I have no fucking clue who I am if not a soldier. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”

“I can’t tell you who you are,” she whispered after a moment, “but I can tell you that whoever you are, I like you.” 

Bucky blushed.

“I like you too. It’s kind of embarrassing actually,”

“What is?”

“I didn’t really want to volunteer for this. Sam forced me. And while I love being here for AJ, I’d much rather hang out with him outside the theater where I’m not expected to be looked at on stage. But then I met this pretty costume designer…and suddenly it wasn’t so bad.”

“Pretty?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.” He specified.

“What a coincidence. I also met the most handsome and charming man recently.”

“Charming?”

“He doesn’t realize how charming he is. I guess that’s part of his charm.”

“He sounds great.” He turned to face her more directly. “Just to be clear, you are talking about me, yes?”

“Yes, you oaf.” She laughed.

Bucky pursed his lips.

“Would you be willing to let this oaf take you out on a date sometime?”

“More than willing.”

“That’s a relief,” he sighed, falling back onto the stage. “I figured it was 50/50.”

She gave him a silly grin and shook her head in amusement.

“You underestimate yourself, Bucky Barnes.”

The final performance was perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be with a production of the Nutcracker with dancers ages ranging from 6 to 106. Most importantly, AJ had fun and did a fantastic job. After the show and final bows, Sarah, Sam, and Cass came rushing onto the stage to congratulate AJ (and Bucky of course. Sam made sure to tell him that he was very proud of how brave he was, and Bucky rolled his eyes. He secretly appreciated it, though.) Cass handed one bouquet to his little brother and the other to his uncle, who funny enough lit up in a similar way as his nephew at the gift. But Y/N lit up the most when Sarah handed a third bouquet to her.

“For keeping Bucky in line, and giving a beautiful performance,” Sarah clarified.

“You’re so sweet,” she beamed, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug. “I have the perfect vase for this.”

“Can we go get ice cream now?” AJ jumped. 

“Let’s get you out of your costume first,” Sam said and gave a quick wink to Bucky before herding his sister and Nephews backstage. “We’ll see you by the car Buck.”

Bucky nodded and turned his full attention to Y/N. He felt weirdly high after the performance. “Wanna join us for ice cream?” He asked, placing his hands on her waist.

“Gladly.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

I like dancing with you.

A/N: If you've made it this far, tysm for reading!!! I really hope this doesn't suck complete ass, idk what happened 😰 Im going to go hide in a hole now and question everything

If you'd like to read more, here's my Masterlist

Happy holidays!

[sytoran]

double-edged sword | teom part i

Wanda Maximoff's marriage with her husband is not going too well. To add insult to injury, her new neighbour is pretty fuckin' hot.

──── PAIRING. sub!milf!wanda x dark!player!reader

──── CONT. established wandavision, implied unhealthy coping mechanisms, infidelity, thirsting, unresolved sexual tension, reader uses she/they pronouns

──── WORD COUNT. 1.5k

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A ray of the morning glow on her eyes takes Wanda out of her sweet slumber. Groggily rubbing at her face, Wanda’s eyes slowly adjust as she scans the room.

Viridescent eyes fall to the empty side of the bed next to her. Of course.

Vision, her husband, had been acting different lately. Private phone calls, late nights at work, leaving early in the morning. She no factual evidence to prove what smelt like infidelity, but it was definitely there and Wanda wasn’t as naive as her husband thought she was.

But well, there was only so much she could do about it.

To any outsider, it might seem like she was already living the high life: With a rich husband who worked as a banker, two sprightly kids who were essentially bundles of joy, a big house with a white picket fence...... She had nothing to complain about, right?

Turns out, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Life was too monotone. too standard, too peaceful, too perfect. Sometimes, Wanda felt like her life was one of those sitcoms she so loved: The picture-perfect family, a portmanteau of situational comedy — But that was it, and that false idealisation of perfection was all Wanda would ever be able to actually achieve.

At the recognition of things going awry, Wanda shudders. the room suddenly wasn’t so comfortable. It was spacious, but it was empty, and it didn’t feel like home.

Home. What was home, anyway?

Was it the nights spent with Pietro and her parents, watching sitcoms and eating stale snacks? Was it her sons’ football games she went to, to cheer them on and scream her lungs out?

Well, either way, it definitely wasn’t how Vision had been treating her.

Wanda lets a soft groan fall from her lips and she stretches. As she’s about to finally get out of bed, the sound of a motorcycle revving from a distance hauls Wanda out of her train of thought.

Her ears prick up, sliding off the covers to look out of the window that had a good view of the house next door.

Wanda watches, with keen eyes, as a moving truck pulls up into the driveway. “Right, I’m getting a new neighbour,” Wanda muses, remembering how Agatha told her last Friday that the Simmons had managed to sell the house for a fair bit and then some more.

A bearded man with long blonde hair gets out of the truck, jogging over to the back to start shifting the boxes.

The brunette is about to shut her curtains and carry on with her day, when a different person pulls up into the driveway on a black motorcycle, then leaping off and kicking the stand in a swift motion. Wanda’s attention is tugged back again, her heart inexplicably thrumming a little faster than normal.

“Thanks, Thor!” the motorcyclist calls out, slapping the older man on the back. “I’ve got it from here!”

Wanda shifts closer to the window, hand gripping the windowsill. There was no explanation for why she was so enthralled by that mysterious woman, with the structured arms and glorious physique.

With a pinch of inquisitiveness, Wanda waits and watches as 'Thor' unloads the truck and drives off with a cheery wave. The tall motorcyclist is left there, face glowing the warm sun, light effortlessly reflecting off their arms.

Wanda peels her eyes from that sin-stained window, shaking her head in a means to stop being a fool. You’ve just been sexually repressed, that’s all, Wanda reasons.

She leaves to make herself a cup of hot tea, but when she’s done she finds herself going back to her bedroom window to stare at the new, hot neighbour again. This time, you’re moving the boxes, a sheen of sweat covering layers of muscle, all the yardwork being unreasonably attractive to Wanda.

“You’re married,” Wanda whispers to herself, eyes going to the wedding photo with vision. It seemed grey, compared to the burst of colours before her eyes.

Despite her chastising, Wanda’s marital state didn’t deter her from the inexplicable enthrallment towards her neighbour, however. When you reached up to stretch, and your black tank top rode up to expose an impeccably-sculpted torso, Wanda let out a shuddering breath.

Almost as if on cue, you chance upon that exact timing to look up at Wanda’s window, and her breath comes to a standstill.

There was no relieving herself from the embarrassing situation. Wanda clutches the cup of tea harder, expression frozen, knowing she must look like some kind of freak. A married lady in her late thirties thirsting over a younger woman in their early twenties?

To Wanda’s surprise and downfall of her beating heart, the motorcyclist sends her a quick wink, and as quickly goes back to unpacking and moving.

Wanda Maximoff’s heart nearly gives out.

She basically throws the curtains shut, collapsing into her bed once again with an embarrassed cry and a suspiciously pleased noise. Already, she finds herself recalling the specks of dirt over their face and arms, their grunts of exhaustion, and that sinful, rouguish, wink.

Shit, living next to someone so effortlessly irresistible was going to be a living hell.

===

Fame was a double-edged sword.

Sure, it seemed like the high life, with countless fans and ungodly amounts of money, and interviews all over the radios, and expensive liquor, and women-

It was never right.

As a basketball player, You were thrown into the unwanted limelight at a mere ten years old – With a play a little too amazing for someone yet to hit puberty, it was all set in stone. From there, you rose through the ranks, faster than the basketball world had ever seen. Match after match, record after record, victory after victory…… it was a means to an end.

A private life was non-existent, something uncalled for, for such an inspirational and famous individual. Celebrity, some might call it. Shoved on a pedestal, more like.

The darker aspects were ugly and scarred. Press interviews so stressful and questions so invading you had to do everything to not throw up there and then. Practice after practice, so grueling and body-wracking, and your head never stopped spinning, and the fans never stopped chanting.

Breakdowns turned into a means for escapism, turned into twisted coping mechanisms. No one knew.

There were……fantasies. Desires. Longing. Wrong, that’s for sure, but it helped. It feasted on you like an apex predator, urging you to tap into it.

You had to escape.

Because fame was a scythe pierced into your neck, missing your jugular vein by mere inches.

Your sweet saviour was something unorthodox, coming in the form of a humble town named Westview. A private area, tucked away and unappealing. There were hardly any residents, and they were of a generally older population.

No media, no paparazzi, no matches, no tournaments. You bought a decently comfy house in less than a month after your discovery. not to appease your public image. Just for you, in fact. Just for you and your much-needed rest.

It was the beginning of something good.

Or so you naively believed.

Remember the aforementioned coping mechanisms? Dark, and twisted little fantasies? Corrupt, and evil, and morally grey?

Well, turns out, your forbidden fruit would happen to lie in the form of your very married next-door neighbour.

===

Yes, your neighbour is hot. Like, really fuckin' hot.

That's the first thing you notice when looking up at the window of the house next door, to find that she was already looking at you.

Your neighbour looked reasonably older than you, but ethereal nonetheless. Slightly curly long brown hair pulled into a bun atop her head, stray hairs somehow impeccably framing her face, small hands gripping onto a teacup adorably.

From a distance, you weren’t graced with the vision of clarity — but from what you could see, the way her green eyes shone, flecks of gold and glimmering with light — you didn’t think your eyes had ever laid on something more breathtaking.

When you winked at her, and she blushed instantaneously while fidgeting with her hands – the desired reaction, by the way – you already knew that your new neighbour would be your latest conquest.

A slow smirk grew on your face, thanking the higher powers that lead you to Westview.

Oh, say it's wrong, to treat a pretty girl like a coping mechanism, to please one after the other, until there were none left.

Then look at me in the eyes and tell me that a pretty girl screaming your name as she falls apart in your hands isn't the best thrill in the world, to conquer and devour and make yourself her world, even if it’s for those few sacred moments.

You shrug off the intrusive thoughts, releasing a short gush of air, reminding yourself once again that you were here for a new change of pace. Your inner urges could take its toll afterwards.

It seemed like keeping those inner urges at bay would prove to be a difficult task, though.

You sigh, averting your attention back the remaining unmoved furniture.

It was going to be a long day.

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series m.list | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

[peacheeeliz]

005. grown ass woman

synopsis ⤏ heeseung is completely starstruck by the motorcyclist that frequently visits the coffee shop he works at. y/n has no interest in the peppy barista at the cafe she visits after classes. but that doesn't stop him from wanting to get to know her more.

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is open!

@potatos-on-clouds @riribelle @grassbutneo @sh0dor1 @yourssincerely-mimi @payformycoffeeandleave @i03jae @veilico @toastybreadd @17ericas @1starqi @hoonieyun @teenyfinds @lisaswifey @wildtigerlili @sucrosxi

[unofficial-fhr-polls]

Propaganda:

Lady Argent: What is hotter than a woman with a sword(hand)? Nothing. She knows what she wants and she's going to get it. Literally bites your lip so hard you are injured you when you kiss. She demands you stop killing if you're a murderstep and kiss her but like!! THAT DIDNT EVEN STOP HER FROM KISSING YOUR HELMET?? ALSO JUST. KISSING A VILLAIN??? This woman has no fear.

Her mindscape has sharks. you like sharks, i like sharks. vote argent.

Julia Ortega: Julia's got it all she's a cunning tall bisexual woman that is down so, so bad for sidestep, MUSCLES, charming as hell, fantastic cook, motorcyclist, wears suit jackets w/o shirts, and also recklessness hot on a motorcycle. Did I already mention shes a giant woman? yeah. muscles too. also literally goes toe to toe with a new villain wearing a goddamn dress during that muesum attack.

Did I mention she’s tall, hot and has muscles???? Cuz she does!!!!

[kii0mi]

Zombie Au

Original post

TRIGGER WARNING! There’s some blood on the drawing, very little and no injuries, but thought I’d put a warning anyways

I’ve been playing around with a half zombie!Danny, didn’t think I’d love this idea so much but it’s really fun! This is the design I’ve thought of for Danny, and I plan on at least making a reference page for the designs of the human!ancients. Clockwork, pandora and frostbite and guaranteed to have a new design planned for them, I might also do others like ember, and kitty, Johnny and shadow :)

My plans for them so far are: clockwork as a cryptic man who used to work in a clock shop, pandora as a Greek woman who is a martial artist expert, frostbite and his tribe as a group of scientists who were around the earlier tests of the virus but maybe left for ethical concerns (might change), ember as a punk artist traveling around and sharing her music, and kitty and Johnny as a motorcyclist couple who adopted a docile zombie dog. I’d like to continue world building on this, hopefully my energy allows it :)

Original idea by @phanboyo