#but little steps! we will get there eventually :')

[kendrysaneela]

Genuinely. I really need people to stop saying “It’s only canon if they kiss” because 1. That means we will never get a slowburn queer relationship because no one will ever believe it without a kiss 2. That destroys queercoding. Which is a very important part of queer representation. And queercoding is not queerbaiting please learn the difference. 3. Not to mention how much queer representation we’d lose from history if kissing is a necessity for the representation to exist.

And then here’s a more modern example. So on the Kevin Can Fuck Himself there’s these two women Allison and Patty. This show was made by a queer woman. Allison and Patty are both stuck under the control of these abusive men. Patty stuck under the control her little brother who keeps her under his control out of guilt from their childhood. And Allison who’s stuck with her abusive husband mentally and financially. And also possibly even physically though that’s never explicitly stated the threat of that just lies in the air. And the show is basically Allison and Patty working together to escape the abusive men in their lives. And throughout this process they start to fall in love with each other. This is made so incredibly clear by the show. And Patty eventually becomes a canon lesbian. (She never says the word lesbian but they make that clear) Patty is more obviously in love with Allison most likely because she’s a canon lesbian whereas Allison’s sexuality is more still up in the air and she’s sleeping with a different guy. But it’s there you can see it. And we had it confirmed offscreen by the showrunner that Patty was in love with Allison and we know that because Patty said “Maybe can die alone together” and that was confirmed as an “I love you” by the showrunner. They’re leaning their heads together with their eyes closed when this scene happens. Very romantically coded. Then the show got prematurely cancelled halfway through the second season so they had to rush to wrap everything up in the second half of season 2. So Allison and Patty escape the abusive men in their lives much quicker than originally planned and in a different way than originally planned. Also lots of the original storyline between Allison and Patty had to be cut out because of it leading to a loss of development we otherwise would’ve gotten. But in the end they meet up again and they sit on the steps of Allison’s house and Patty says “Let’s die alone together” and Allison repeats “Let’s die alone together” now it’s already been established by the showrunner that this means “I love you” so you can take from that that they are in love with each other and somewhere down the line they will become a real couple. And that they will be together forever. The showrunner said about that scene “They are romantically alone but always together” or something like that. And SO MANY PEOPLE decided that because they didn’t kiss or say I love you that the entire show was a waste and all their romantic scenes were for naught just because they didn’t kiss or say “I love you” at the end and the QUEER showrunner didn’t explicitly say “That scene means they’re in love” and a big reason I saw people give for being angry at that was that “Straight people won’t know they’re queer they can just deny it if it’s not explicit!” And here’s the thing. Not only should we not be defining queer representation by how straight people view it but also straight people will deny canon queer representation even if they DO kiss!

Like for example on the show Doctor Odyssey there’s a canon slowburn mmf throuple. It’s been confirmed by the actors and showrunners that them being a throuple is going to be being explored this season on the show. All three of the characters Max,Avery and Tristan have all slept together once and they’ve all stated they liked it and the next episode they discussed the idea of polyamory and they showed us a polyamorous couple that was together and happy had all the characters discuss what polyamory is how it works and how it’s valid. The female character Avery very much wants them to be a throuple after their threesome and discusses it with the boys using the words “Throuple” and “Polyamorous” onscreen. the boys are still reluctant at the moment but they’ll get there they just need a second to get used to the idea. It’s basically as canon as canon can get before they actually become fully canon. And lemme repeat. Avery is the character who’s the most onboard for them being a throuple this is canon. They make this very explicit. She initiates the threesome and she spends an entire episode trying to convince the boys to be in a throuple with her. Yet yesterday? I saw an article talking about “Who should Avery choose?” Between the two boys. When the whole storyline of theirs is she isn’t going to choose nor does she want to. But yet there was an article STILL not getting it. Even with the words POLYAMOROUS AND THROUPLE being used in an episode MULTIPLE times and them all having slept together AND CANONICALLY ENJOYING IT. (They say so in words onscreen) And yet there the article was still denying it because it wasn’t fully canon yet. That’s what I’m talking about. Even when it is explicit as explicit as explicit can be straight people are going to deny it. So why are we defining our own queer rep by how straight people view it? It’s ours not theirs. They can come along and enjoy it if they choose they’re completely welcome! The more the merrier! But we shouldn’t define rep for us by how theyll view it. Because some straight people will never accept queer rep as real no matter how explicit it is. So their opinion doesn’t matter.

Discussions of what "counts" as "canon" queer representation fall apart the second you start talking about media older than about five years or so. If your only metric for "canon queerness" is a character looking directly into the camera and explaining their identity in specific, modern, US-American-English terminology, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like. If your barometer for what counts as "canon" requires two characters of the same gender to kiss on-screen, you're not going to get a good picture of what queer media looks like.

Dr. Septimus Pretorius (portrayed by Ernest Thesiger in 1935's Bride of Frankenstein) was never going to look directly into the camera and explain his sexuality in 2024 terms, but he remains an icon in queer media history. You cannot look at that character (blatantly queer-coded in the manner of the time, played by a queer man in a film directed by another queer man) and tell me that he isn't a part of queer media history.

To be honest, even when discussing modern queer media, I would argue that the popular idea of what "counts" as "canon" is very narrow and flawed. I've seen multiple posts in the past few days that say the Nimona movie is "implied" trans representation, and I just...no, y'all, it's not "implied," it's an allegory. The entire damn movie is about transgender struggle, and the original comic is deeply tied into N.D. Stevenson's own queer journey. It isn't subtle. You cannot look at that movie and pretend that it isn't about trans struggle. It's blatant, and to say that Nimona "isn't canonically trans" is a take that misses the story's entire message, and the blatant queerphobia that almost kept the movie from happening. (I wrote a five thousand word essay about the topic.)

Queer themes, queer coding, queer exploration, and queer representation can all exist in a piece of media that doesn't seem to have "canon queer characters" on the surface. Most queer characters are never going to be able to explicitly state their specific identity labels, be it due to censorship or just due to the fact that scenes like that don't fit in some narratives. Some stories aren't conducive to a big "so what's your identity?" scene.

Explicit, undeniable, "this is my identity in no uncertain terms" scenes are very important and radical, and I'm not saying they shouldn't ever exist. I am saying that you can't consider those scenes the only way for queerness in a piece of media to be "canon."

[singmyaubade]

Cindy Lou Who

james potter x slytherin!female!reader

summary: you and lily have been polar opposites from birth, disconnected in everything. but when the one thing she has crosses the bounds, you can't avoid it even if it destroys you.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing , jealousy

a/n: it's part 2! no, its not a dorcas and y/n love story.

i hope you enjoy and you can fw it or not, not my issue.

—

The journey to James's parents’ cabin had already been a nightmare in the making, but the fact that you somehow found yourself stuck in the car with the Marauders made it feel like the universe had personally conspired against you. It was as if Lily was trying to send a message to make you never speak to her again.

Ten minutes earlier:

You stepped off the train, dragging your suitcase behind you, and made your way toward Lily and her usual entourage. You could already feel the tension between you and the rest of the group, but at least Lily was there to distract you.

"Ah, Y/N!" Lily cheered, her arms suddenly wrapped around you in a hug. You stiffened slightly, offering an awkward smile as she pulled back to look at you. Her grin continued to grow, "We were just discussing seating assignments," She explained, glancing at the group, which was all standing around and debating loudly.

"I voted for apparating. It's quicker, and no one has to listen to Sirius whine the entire time," James grumbled, shooting an annoyed look at Sirius, who was lounging against the wall with an exaggerated sigh.

"Well for one, your apparating skills absolutely scare me," Dorcas chimed in.

Mary snorted. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure we'd show up without a neck if either of you tried to apparate us," She said, resting her head on Dorcas’s shoulder, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked over at the two boys.

Sirius immediately recoiled, "Excuse me? Leave me out of this, my apparition skills are impeccable if you ladies must know," He said, puffing out his chest and sticking his tongue out at both of them.

Marlene chuckled, chiming in, the sound light and teasing as she looked at you. "Yeah, I think we need someone with actual skill, not just a big ego." She glanced at Sirius, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Sirius shot her a playful glare, but his lips twitched as though he might actually be enjoying the banter. "You wound me, Mar. But I’ll have you know, I’ve never left anyone in a heap of twisted limbs," He said, half-defensive, half-proud.

You sighed, clearly tired of their antics as Dorcas spoke again, "Okay, okay, if you two are done with the theatrics, how about we get someone who actually knows how to apparate without leaving us in the wrong century?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow dramatically, looking at you, "Well, actually, someone insists that ‘bonding time’ means suffering in cramped cars with people you barely know, which is really quite charming," He said as if everyone was meant to agree with his sarcasm.

James shot a playful look at Lily, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Don't blame my little Lily-bear for her big heart," He teased, only for her to stomp on his foot, causing him to yelp.

“I don’t even understand why we discussed apparition in the first place,” Lily huffed, annoyed, “We are driving and that is final.”

You snorted at the sight, feeling momentarily distracted from the impending doom of the ride. Mary, ever the voice of reason, cleared her throat. "Ok Mother, back to the cars. Who's in which?"

You raised an eyebrow, scanning the group with mild skepticism. "Can any of you actually drive?" The question hung in the air, and for a split second, the group fell into silence, as if your voice had been the last thing they expected.

"Well, Remus and I can," Dorcas answered with a grin, clearly amused by your audacity. "And James already asked his parents to send over two cars," She added, her eyes twinkling.

"Wow, loaded with money, Potter?" You teased, turning to James, who shot you a mockingly smug grin.

"Don't act like you didn’t know," He replied with a wink as if he always knew how to make your sarcasm work in his favor.

"And how many people can each car fit?" Mary asked, eager to move things along.

"Four each, including the driver," James answered, his voice laced with confidence.

"Well, this is perfect!" Lily exclaimed happily, her voice full of relief. "Peter can't make it anyway, so Y/N can take his spot!"

Your stomach twisted. "Excuse me?" You nearly gagged, your face contorting in disbelief.

Lily’s eyes softened with an apologetic look. "Oh, don’t worry! They won’t bite, I promise," She assured you, gesturing to the Marauders, who were now standing off to the side like a haphazardly formed band of troublemakers.

You couldn’t hide the disgust that flashed across your face as you looked at the group. The thought of being stuck in a car with them—all of them—felt like some cruel twist of fate. “Can’t you just ride with the boys?” You asked, crossing your arms and giving Lily a pleading look.

Lily hesitated for a moment before offering a sheepish smile. “I could, but I kind of want you to get along with them, Y/N. I really don’t want to force you into anything, but they’re good people underneath the mess," She said sincerely, rubbing your palm comfortingly.

You felt the pressure building. On one hand, you wanted to be a complete brat and insisted that you’d rather take your chances with a single, less painful car ride with the girls. But on the other, you knew this trip wasn’t about you. It was Lily’s weekend, and you couldn’t spoil it just because the Marauders were a walking headache.

"Actually, Lily, it's fine," You sighed, rolling your eyes. "It’s just a four-hour car ride. I’ll survive."

Lily looked at you, her eyes full of sincerity. "Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable—"

"Yes," You groaned dramatically, cutting her off. "But if you ask me again, I will change my mind."

Lily’s face lit up with a sweet, relieved smile. “Thank you, Y/N,” She whispered in your ear, pulling you into another hug.

You smiled faintly despite the dread that churned in your stomach. You lightly pushed her off, trying to hide the weirdly sentimental feeling. "Let’s get this over with, then," You muttered, grabbing your luggage and marching toward the exit.

As you walked out of the station, you could hear the sound of the Marauders’ footsteps trailing behind you, their chatter and laughter loud enough to make you wince. Your fate was sealed, and you had no choice but to endure the upcoming car ride with them.

But who knew? Maybe the next four hours wouldn’t be as bad as you were imagining.

--

Thirty minutes into the car ride, and you were already questioning every decision you’d ever made in life.

For one, Sirius and James hadn’t stopped talking since you left the station. It was like they were competing to see who could out-talk the other, their voices blending into an incoherent mess of loud jokes, sarcasm, and the occasional burst of laughter. You swore you could hear Sirius’s voice every five seconds, but it was impossible to tell what he was even saying.

The only bearable one in the bunch was Remus—the designated driver, who for the most part, was quietly focused on the road. He had a way of staying out of the chaos, and you were thankful for that. If he’d joined in, you might have just jumped out of the car.

Unfortunately, luck had not been on your side, and James was sitting right next to you. Of course, he was. As if this trip hadn’t already been your own personal hell, the universe had decided it would be even more fun if you were forced to endure James’s company.

The luggage was shoved behind you both, making the car feel cramped in every possible way. And somehow, the small space between you and James seemed to grow more suffocating by the second.

It wasn’t like you hated him—well, maybe you did a little bit right now—but he wasn’t exactly your favorite person to be sitting next to. Especially in a tiny car where you had no choice but to pretend that everything was fine.

And to make matters worse, James had been sneaking glances at you every couple of minutes. You could feel his eyes on you, even when you kept your focus fixed firmly on the road ahead, your chin resting in your palm as you leaned against the cool window, trying to ignore the constant pounding in your skull.

You tried your best not to react. You weren’t about to make eye contact with him or give him any reason to think you wanted to engage. The last thing you needed was him making some stupid comment about how uncomfortable you were being, as if that would make it any better.

But no matter how much you ignored him, you could still feel him there, like a weight pressing on your chest.

You wondered—truly wondered—how you had managed to get yourself stuck on what was likely the worst trip in the history of trips. It wasn’t even like you’d had a choice in the matter.

You were thinking that perhaps you should've grabbed a book from your bag or even your Walkman from home.

Anything to avoid the chaotic, uncomfortable mess that was currently your reality.

But then again, you still wanted to make Lily happy. It was her weekend, and you knew how much this trip meant to her.

And you knew you had to endure this for her, even if that meant suffering through endless hours of loud barking and James Potter’s stupid glances.

But you were starting to develop a newfound dislike for the countryside and for the stupid cabin you were heading to, and especially for James Potter and his stupid face.

You were stopped in your train of thought by the loud crunching in your ears as you looked beside you in disgust to see James eating Sour Cream & Onion chips loudly.

You had hoped that James would choke on the chips he was shoveling into his mouth right then and there, but he was luckily immune to your silent prayers. Instead, his eyes flicked over to you as he extended the bag in your direction, his mouth still full.

“Want some?” He asked, chewing loudly, completely oblivious to the venom in your stare.

You groaned, slumping back in your seat and closing your eyes, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you could escape the situation by sheer force of will. But no. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to get rid of James Potter. You could still feel his gaze on you, heavy and unrelenting, like a hot spotlight.

“You know,” James continued, completely oblivious to your very clear displeasure, “You could be a little nicer.”

Before you could respond, Sirius—who had been quietly enjoying the chaos—turned around in the front seat, his usual shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Slytherins are incapable of that. It’s not in their blood.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could snap back, Remus muttered a resigned “Sirius,” trying to rein him in.

You leaned forward, making sure your voice was dripping with sarcasm as you met James’s gaze, “And Gryffindors are incapable of not being complete and utter twats.”

James’s eyes lit up with amusement at your choice of words. You could see the smug little grin forming at the corner of his mouth, like he was proud of his ability to get under your skin.

“Ah, she speaks!” He said dramatically, as if this was some huge victory. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes and groaning. “I was beginning to think you were either deaf—or perhaps a robot.”

Your eyes narrowed as you leaned in just a little closer, meeting his gaze, keeping it steady. “I believe you’ve got something right here.” You moved in slowly, and you could see his face flush just slightly, his lips parting as if he was about to say something.

You didn’t give him the chance. “Right here…” You muttered, keeping your eyes locked on his, before quickly flicking your finger against his forehead.

James immediately shot his hand up to his forehead, wincing as though he’d been hit with a particularly nasty spell. You couldn't help but smile brightly, crossing your arms triumphantly. You were winning.

Sirius, of course, couldn’t help himself. He started laughing so hard it almost sounded like he was barking. “Wow, Y/N—1, Prongs—0!” he whooped, throwing you a thumbs-up from the front.

You heard the nickname, but your victory felt too sweet to care about it right now. You were too busy basking in your small but satisfying win. Maybe it was the most minor of triumphs, but seeing James’s smug confidence deflate for even a moment was pure, unadulterated joy.

James, still rubbing his forehead, pouted dramatically. “Good to know," He muttered under his breath, though you could hear the faint hint of amusement in his voice. “That’s what makes you happy.”

You leaned back in your seat, your grin never wavering. “You have no idea, Potter,” You said, crossing your arms again, feeling very much like you’d won the game.

You suddenly decided to just take a nap for the remaining two hours of the trip, head leaning against the cold window.

At least then, this trip will be bearable.

--

"Aww, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes?" You heard a voice mutter, and your eyes blinked open to see Sirius staring down at you with that signature smirk of his.

You hummed in confusion, realizing that your head was no longer against the window but resting on the broad canvas of a shoulder and jaw.

Your eyes widened as you quickly snapped up, inadvertently knocking your head into James's chin. He groaned in protest as you hissed from the pain in your own skull, rubbing it with one hand.

Sirius barked out a laugh, the sound loud and unmistakably amused. You shot him a death glare. James whined like a child. "Couldn’t you have just gotten up softly?" he asked, tending to his chin as if it were more damaged than it likely was.

"I was repulsed," You said bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest.

James smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Didn’t seem that way with your head on my shoulder," He teased, and before you could stop yourself, your fist landed squarely in his shoulder. He groaned dramatically.

You hated how easy it was for him to tease you, it was almost as if he didn't hate you as much as you hated him.

"Shut up, Potter," You muttered under your breath, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

Finally, Remus got out of the car, and you were beyond relieved to be able to stretch your legs and get out of the cramped space. As you stepped out into the fresh air, you were hit with the sight of the cabin—a massive wooden oak structure that dwarfed most houses you had seen. Of course, it shouldn’t have been a surprise with James's family wealth, but it was still impressive.

"Admiring something?" James’s voice called out from behind you, and you turned to see him watching you with that grin of his.

You stepped toward him, eyebrows furrowing. "We were trapped in a car for four hours together, and you still want to annoy me?" You asked, annoyed.

James’s grin only widened, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes. "It’s just so fun," He said sweetly, his tone laced with something that made you furrow your brows deeper.

He moved past you with that same self-assured confidence, and you couldn’t help but watch him for a moment, your mind swirling with an odd mix of curiosity and frustration.

What an odd boy.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud cheers, and you turned to see Lily and the other girls finally arriving at the cabin. Lily immediately rushed over to you, throwing her arm around your shoulders. "This is going to be so fun!" She exclaimed excitedly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Your expression remained indifferent as you shrugged off her arm. "Sure it will, Lils," You said, barely hiding the boredom in your voice as you moved past her toward the cabin entrance.

Inside, the cabin was everything you expected—grand yet homely. Fairy lights twinkled on the ceiling and wound their way along the railings of the stairs, casting a warm, soft glow. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood in the corner of the living room, and the fireplace was already crackling with flames, filling the air with the comforting scent of wood smoke.

You couldn’t help but admire the place, its charm undeniable.

Okay, maybe you were admiring it a little more than you wanted to admit.

As much as you wanted to keep exploring the cabin, you couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming desire to just collapse into a bed and escape the chaos for a bit.

The car ride had been long—four hours spent crammed between the Marauders and Lily, with Sirius and James' constant bickering as background noise. You could already feel the tension in your shoulders from it.

You made your way up the stairs, eyes scanning the doors with name cards carefully placed next to them. It was so Lily to do something like that—everything organized to the tiniest detail. When you reached your door, you saw your name beside Dorcas’s.

You hadn’t spent much time with Dorcas, but from what you’d gathered, she was a bit of a mystery.

She was quiet in a way that was similar to you, but then, the next moment, she was all sharp humor and a wild streak of extroversion. It was interesting to watch her switch between the two.

You just hoped she didn’t have any issue with Slytherins. You’d heard whispers from some Gryffindors, and while you liked to think you were nothing like the stereotypical Slytherin, you still didn’t feel like being judged by a new person.

James and Sirius were already enough of a headache on that front.

You pushed the door open and stepped into the room, instantly relieved by the sight of two beds with nightstands and soft lamps. It was cozy—nothing too extravagant, but warm. There were two separate closets as well, and a part of you actually sighed in relief. Privacy. That was something you valued deeply.

"Thank God for separate closets," Came a voice from behind you, and you turned to find Dorcas already standing in the room, “Sharing a closet can drive me absolutely nuts, I need the privacy,” She added. You hadn’t even heard her come in. Her eyes were fixed on the closets, and somehow it felt like she’d read your mind. "As do you," She added, her voice light and as if she head read your mind.

"I—I do," You stammered, caught off guard.

Something about Dorcas always made you feel a little out of your depth, though you weren’t sure why. She had this way of being so at ease with herself, and it was hard not to be a little intimidated.

Dorcas just shrugged, as if your reaction was nothing new. She walked over to the bed, settling herself against the headboard with a relaxed sigh. "Honestly, I’m glad we’re rooming together. That car ride was chaos. I’m not sure I’ve recovered yet."

You chuckled awkwardly, the tension still clinging to your limbs. "Agreed," you muttered, fiddling with your bag as you unpacked some of your things into the closet. You felt Dorcas’s eyes on you, but when you looked over, she was giving you a teasing smirk, as though she could see right through you.

"The Marauders weren’t too insufferable, I hope?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

You laughed dryly. "Well, Remus was a saint," You said, trying to keep it light. "Black and Potter, though? Bloody migraines." You sighed, shaking your head as you hung up a few shirts. "I don’t know how they do it. They thrive on being insufferable, I swear."

Dorcas let out a soft laugh, a mix of amusement and sympathy. "That’s their usual act," She said, as if it were the most predictable thing in the world. "Don’t worry—you’ll get used to it. Or at least, you’ll stop being surprised." She shifted, lying back and staring up at the ceiling, her hands behind her head.

You looked at her, unsure if you were ready to get used to them.

It's like she could read your expression or your thoughts in general.

Dorcas gave you a quiet smile. "You’ll get there," She said with surprising wisdom for someone who seemed so carefree. "Just don’t take it too seriously. They’re all talk."

I hope I never do, you thought, but kept it to yourself.

You couldn't help but think of how you would ever survive this entire trip. In all honestly, you would rather have spent it with Petunia degrading you.

And you were incredibly worried that the tension in your spine would always still there.

You looked at Dorcas questioningly, "Do you think this trip is going to be fun?" You asked, your voice quieter now as you paused in the middle of unpacking.

Dorcas rolled over onto her side, propping her head up with one hand as she looked at you with a thoughtful expression. "I think it'll be interesting. Not sure if 'fun' is the word I’d use. But you never know. It’s a change of pace, at least." She smiled. "One thing’s for sure: it’s going to be memorable."

"Let’s hope it’s the good kind of memorable," You muttered, smiling slightly despite yourself.

"Trust me, I’ve got a feeling this is going to be one for the books," Dorcas replied, giving you an amused look.

You gave Dorcas a slight smile as you both suddenly heard a thump downstairs and several voices of laughter as Dorcas stood, smiling, "Think I'm gonna check up on everyone down there, wanna come?" She asked, looking at you.

You fake yawned, stretching out on the bed. "I think I'll actually take a nap, feeling quite drowsy," You said, trying to keep the tone casual.

Dorcas gave you a smile, but there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "Okay," She replied softly before turning and heading for the door. She closed it behind her, leaving you alone in the room.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. Dorcas was nice, but you really didn’t feel like hanging out with the whole group right now. It was just too much.

You reached for your backpack, hoping to lose yourself in time with a book. But when you opened it, your stomach sank. No books.

"Fuck," You muttered, frustrated. You never forgot your books. You always packed them, even for short trips.

You flopped back on the bed, groaning. This wasn’t going how you’d planned.

After a few moments, you grabbed your toiletries and towels.

Screw it.

A shower would help clear your head.

You turned the tap, and the hot water came on quickly. Stepping into the stream, you let the heat wash over you, hoping it would erase the tension from your body.

The noise of the water filled the bathroom, and for a moment, everything felt quiet.

You sighed deeply, letting go of the frustration. It wasn’t ideal, but you’d figure things out later. For now, you’d let the world outside the bathroom fade away.

After a nice, long shower, you slipped into a soft nightgown, figuring you wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. The warmth of the cabin made it easy to settle in, and you were content with some peace and quiet.

But as you put your things down, you suddenly heard Lily’s voice ringing out from downstairs.

"AAAAAH!" Her scream echoed through the house, followed by frantic footsteps.

You froze, heart racing. Was she hurt? You quickly rushed out of your room, ready to help. The moment you reached the top of the stairs, though, you saw her laughing hysterically in the living room.

"I told you she would come down!" Lily called, gleefully looking at James and Sirius, her hand outstretched for galleons.

You blinked, your heart slowing as you saw the grin on her face. "What the hell?" You muttered, out of breath.

James was looking at you in wide-eyed awe, but you couldn’t help noticing how your nightgown was just a little too revealing—way more than you’d planned for. The last thing you needed was to give James any more ammunition.

"Really, Lily?" You scoffed, already turning to head back upstairs.

"Wait!" Lily rushed to you, her eyes pleading as she grabbed your arm. "Just come hang out for a little bit!"

You immediately thought 'Fuck no!' but then you thought,

It's her trip.

You glanced at her, and despite everything, her puppy-dog eyes got to you. "I suppose.." You muttered, giving in.

Lily squealed, her excitement infectious as she pulled you downstairs. "We’re about to start the puzzle!" She said with a huge grin.

You raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to laugh or groan. "A puzzle?" You teased. "Are we in fourth year?"

Lily pouted. "Stop being such a buzzkill."

Marlene leaned over from the couch with a smirk. "Lils always makes us do something childish on the first night. Gets it out of our system before the real fun starts."

"Exactly," Mary added. "A bit of innocence before we dive into the chaos."

"And so she doesn’t feel guilty when we get wild later," Sirius teased, his grin mischievous.

Lily stuck her tongue out at them. "I do it because it’s fun! And once we finish, we can glue it and hang it up. Isn’t that cute?"

James groaned dramatically. "But Remus and Dorcas always do the best work, and the rest of us just give up."

Lily shot him a look. "Not this time. This time, we all finish it fast."

Well, that didn’t turn out to be the case.

Lily had, of course, accidentally bought a 900-piece puzzle, and it was much more complicated than anyone had expected.

You, Remus, and Dorcas were the only ones making any real progress. You were surprisingly good at it, which seemed to amuse everyone else. The three of you worked mostly in silence, with you passing pieces to Remus and Dorcas helping out when necessary.

Meanwhile, the others had either given up or wandered off. Lily, Marlene, and Mary were baking cookies, and Sirius was napping on the couch, his loud snoring filling the room.

But, as always, James was not one to leave you alone for long.

"How are you guys still working on that?" He whined, popping up beside you and peering over your shoulder. "It’s annoying and difficult!"

"Just like you," You muttered with a sly grin, not looking up from the puzzle.

James’s started smirking. "Sorry, what was that?"

You scoffed, "Just like y-"

Before you could finish your sentence, James was behind you, fingers digging into your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You yelped, trying to push him off, but he only laughed louder, his hands relentless.

Dorcas and Remus exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by the scene unfolding.

"Say it again!" James demanded, his voice obnoxiously loud.

You gasped for breath, trying to squirm away from his grasp. "Stop it, Potter!" You barely managed to keep your voice serious, but it came out more like a laugh.

"Okay, say I’m the most brilliant person at Hogwarts!" he pressed, his grin wide.

"I will never say that!" You laughed, finally able to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Come on!" James pushed, tickling you more.

"Okay, okay!" You cried, laughing helplessly. "You’re the most brilliant person in Hogwarts, now get off!"

James finally relented, sitting back with a smug smile. "That’s what I thought."

You quickly adjusted your nightgown, your face flushed with embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you just got into a tickle fight with James Potter—of all people.

Lily appeared, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "What just happened out here?" She asked, her voice teasing. "I heard you laughing."

You turned away, trying to hide your embarrassment. "You didn’t hear anything."

"Actually—" James started, but you punched him lightly in the knee, making him wince.

"—I heard nothing," He corrected quickly, his voice strained as he rubbed his leg.

Lily flashed a knowing smile. "Sure," She said, winking at you before heading back into the kitchen.

You groaned inwardly. This was only the beginning, and already Lily was convinced you were best friends with her friends.

Your mind drifted back to earlier, to James’s behavior and how Lily always seemed to indulge him. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

"I'm heading up," You said abruptly, not waiting for an answer as you made your way to the stairs.

"But the cookies aren’t ready yet!" James called after you, his voice almost pleading.

"Enjoy them when they are," You snapped, already heading up to your room.

As you reached your door and flopped onto your bed, you let out a long, frustrated sigh. This was going to be a weird trip.

[little-diable]

The Agreement - Rafe Cameron (smut)

So, this is a new one. But I am so deep down the Rafe and Drew rabbit hole, I just had to write something. This has potentional for more parts, but I will settle on that once I get your reactions on this part 1. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is new to the area, but it didn't taken long for Sarah's and her ways to cross. But life in the area is expensive, so the reader is in desperate need for someone to support her, perhaps Rafe Cameron, the guy everybody warned her about, is the right guy to help her out. But Rafe Cameron isn't a guy with a soft heart, the devil doesn't make one sided deals.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), sex with a stranger somewhat, sex in an unfamiliar room, spitting, slight choking, degrading, talks about the reader working as a sugar baby

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (3.1k words)

I LIVE for this gif. Jesus.

“Honestly, I am so ready to marry rich and forget about all these payments. Who can even afford to pay for all these things?” A groan left (y/n), head rolling back while she pressed herself further against the mattress of her bed. For a moment she was met with silence, waiting for Sarah to reply, but her friend kept quiet, seemingly deep in thought. 

“Well, maybe it’s time we finally find you someone good. I bet you’d easily find someone fitting at the Country Club.” (Y/n) had to fight against the urge to roll her eyes, Sarah was all too aware of her distaste for all these rich people who only cared about themselves. She was still relatively new to the area but had instantly picked up on the struggles between the pogues and kooks, fights (y/n) desperately wanted to stay away from. 

“Thank you, but I’d rather sell my soul than step a foot into that place.” Sarah’s giggles forced a smile to widen on (y/n)’s lips, knowing that her new friend wouldn’t back down from this discussion.

“Oh c’mon, live a little. But you could also just try to mingle at a party, I guess.” It took (y/n) a moment to think through the idea, especially since she knew she’d feel by far more comfortable at a party rather than at the country club. The hum leaving her drew another giggle from Sarah, already excited about whatever (y/n) may stumble upon.

“I guess I could but only if you join me to figure out if there are any parties worth joining.” She had interacted quite a lot with Sarah Cameron so far, a friendly face she had crossed paths with every now and then when she had first moved here. Something seemed to connect the two of them, something (y/n) couldn’t pinpoint yet but was insanely grateful for nevertheless. 

“Absolutely I’ll text you in a few!”

…

She should have stayed at home, away from all these unfamiliar faces, the alcohol which would undoubtedly leave her massively hungover, and the horrible music she couldn’t endure much longer. So far she still hadn’t crossed paths with Sarah, clinging to the promise that she’d eventually show up with some friends in tow - people (y/n) could click with, according to Sarah at least.

The distaste clung to her face as (y/n) pushed through the crowd of sweaty bodies, trying to stay away from those who looked at her for a few seconds too long. Her feet carried her towards the kitchen, set on pouring herself another drink to at least endure another hour of this party.

With her eyes set on the open cabinet, (y/n) tried to reach for one of the almost empty bottles, weight shifted onto her toes to grasp it - though miserably failing. The exhausted huff clawing through her was swallowed by the sound of a raspy laugh filling the kitchen, forcing her eyes to find a pair of bright ones. 

“C’mon, you almost had it, don’t stop the show now.” The smirk clinging to his lips left her scowling, instantly recognising him, Rafe Cameron, Sarah’s brother. Even though (y/n) hadn’t been around for long, she had picked up on numerous warnings, telling her to stay away from the guy who was followed around by trouble. 

“Fuck off.” Her words made him laugh again, letting the sound ring in her ears while he pushed himself closer. Rafe’s cologne wrapped itself around her, making her heavily swallow the second she felt his front pressed against her back. With one hand finding her waist, he held her close while reaching for the bottle she had tried to grasp. Wordlessly he poured her some of the liquid, letting go of her seconds later, but she stayed quiet, not saying a single word to the smirking guy.

“Where’s my thank you? Or is cursing the only thing you can do?” Rafe leaned against the kitchen island, arms crossed in front of his chest. Her eyes couldn’t help but find his bulging muscles, hating that he was that handsome while she had promised others she’d stay away from him. 

“I don’t want to further inflate your ego, Cameron.” (Y/n) tried to push past Rafe, though without any luck. His bright eyes wandered over her features, grinning down on the frowning girl. His hands kept holding onto her, settling on her waist as if they had crossed paths numerous times before, more familiar with one another than they let on. 

“I can see why you haven’t found many new friends so far, (y/n).” A scoff left her as she tried to push him away, though without any luck. Anger began to bubble deep inside of her, wondering how she could get rid of the devilish handsome guy. But Rafe seemed all too comfortable with their closeness, looking at her like a predator ready to snap, already high on her blood he’d feast from any second now. “What’s your problem with me, huh?” “I have no problem with you, Rafe. Let me go.” He clicked his tongue before letting it run along his lower lip, a motion she couldn’t help but stare at, eyes following his every movement. 

“What did my sister tell you about me?” His thumb began to move, softly stroking along the silver of skin her top showed off. Goosebumps covered her arms, something (y/n) could only curse at, hating her body for feeling that drawn towards him. Sarah had told her all those gruesome stories about him, a psychotic guy she should desperately try to stay away from – and yet something intrigued (y/n), something she couldn’t shake.

“Drugs, guns, whoring around, the list is long, and I really don’t want to catch anything from you.” She shot him a sickly sweet smile before finally pulling herself free. Without giving Rafe the chance to stop her, (y/n) managed to disappear from his sight, finding shelter in another spot of the mansion. Her heart was racing in her chest, beating faster than probably ever before. 

Sarah’s words kept hallowing in her mind, sharply reminding her of the bad news following Rafe Cameron around, words that began to lose their importance when her eyes were drawn back to his bright ones. They held contact as she drowned her drink in one go, still feeling his hands on her body as if he had burned his touch into her skin. Her breath got hitched in her chest as Rafe began to move, seemingly set on speaking to her again – and yet he didn’t get far, forced to watch his sister find (y/n) first, pulling her outside. 

“I was looking for you, I want to introduce you to some people.” Sarah clung to (y/n)’s side as she led her to the pool area, introducing her to people whose names she didn���t pick up on, still thinking of Rafe. Sarah’s words from this morning reached her again, overthinking their plan of (y/n) finding a guy to keep around at a party like this, a plan she had to scoff at now.

“Sarah told us you’re currently working as a surf instructor around here, would you want to go surfing with us tomorrow morning?” A blonde guy smiled at her, forcing her to focus for a second. The cap he wore only showed off a few of his strands, enough for her to pick up on how cute he looked. She was close to denying, wanting to spend the morning sleeping in, but the way Sarah squeezed her wrist forced a soft “Sure” out of (y/n). 

She didn’t listen to the other things the group shared, feeling a pair of eyes on her. Slowly, (y/n) let her gaze wander, finding Rafe looking at her from one of the windows. He raised his brows in an almost mocking manner, taking a sip of his drink as if he was daring her to find her way back to him. She rolled her eyes at him, and yet she stepped away from Sarah a moment later, murmuring something about having to find the bathroom. 

Rafe was back at her side the second she stepped into the house, pulled through the room by the hand finding hers. The loud music momentarily managed to drown out her racing thoughts, thoughts that were completely silenced the second she found herself pushed into a dark room, front pressed against Rafe’s.

“Is this one of your famous tactics? Pulling girls you don’t know into dark ro-,” she didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence, interrupted by the feeling of Rafe’s lips finding hers. Even though her first instinct was to push him away, she didn’t find the want to do it, instead (y/n) chased his lips, swallowing the raspy chuckle leaving Rafe.

She was all too aware of the way Rafe’s eyes had followed her around for the past weeks, trying to find the right moment to speak to her whenever he was at the beach with his friends or when she met friends near the club. Late at night he’d stroke his cock to the thought of her, painting the screen of his phone white while looking at her pictures, only further fuelling his obsession with her. Something about (y/n) stuck to Rafe, perhaps it was the fact that she was all too oblivious to the struggles they all had faced for the past months, perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t seem to give a shit about him, whatever it was, he needed to get his hands on her. 

Without breaking the kiss, Rafe led her to the bed, plopping down on it with her falling into his lap. Their tongues got tangled, brushing together while his warm hands found their way underneath her shirt, feeling her tremble in his grasp. His name rolled off her tongue as (y/n) needed a second to breathe, high on the feeling of him kissing his way down her throat.

Her mind screamed at her, asking her what the hell she was doing, and yet her body didn’t seem to care. Rafe Cameron had pulled her into his trap, unable to rip herself free while slowly letting him in. She didn’t protest as he pulled her shirt over her head, didn’t protest as his lips found her right nipple, softly biting and sucking on the soft skin before finding the other. 

“Fuck, we shouldn’t do this.” For a second he froze at her slightly panicked words, waiting for her to say something else, to push him away. But (y/n) didn’t find the strength to pull herself free, tugging on his golden strands to reconnect their lips, allowing him to shift them around to press (y/n) against the mattress. It felt as if her body was on fire, set ablaze by his touch, by the way he towered over her and looked at her as if she was the prettiest sight he had ever set his eyes on. 

“Breathe, sweetheart, let me do this.” Rafe kissed his way down her stomach, pulling her shorts and soaked panties down her legs to settle between her thighs. The moan that left him the second he brushed his tongue through her slit made her arch her back, pushing herself further against his mouth. Rafe’s eyes were set on her pleasure-drunken features, watching her get lost in the sensation. 

“Fuck, Rafe.” (Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, hands finding his hair to hold him close. It had been a while since she had last been with someone, no longer used to feeling this alive. His thumb circled her pulsing bundle, tongue slowly fucking into her tightness to push her further towards the edge. No longer was her mind racing, no longer did (y/n) find herself overthinking this situation, solemnly focused on Rafe’s skilled touch.

“Look at you, pretty girl, at the mercy of a guy you claim not to like.” It was clear that he enjoyed this all too much, smirking up at (y/n) who couldn’t reply to his teasing words. She was desperate to cum, to let go with his name rolling off her tongue like a prayer spoken in a need of guidance. 

He put his mouth back on her heat, sucking on her clit while he pushed two of his long fingers into her, fucking her with his fingers curled against her swollen spot. Another moan clawed its way out of (y/n), reverberating through the dark room, a sound so sweet Rafe couldn’t help but groan against her skin. The sound was enough to push her over the edge, cumming on his tongue with a call of his name. 

Rafe’s fingers fucked her through her high, enjoying the sight of her trembling body, watching her fall apart with his bright eyes that had slowly adjusted to the darkness. Only when she loosened her grip on his hair did Rafe move up her body again, pressing a kiss to her slightly swollen lips which allowed (y/n) to taste herself on his tongue.

“Will you let me fuck you, (y/n)?” She was spaced out, and yet her mind was still clear enough to pick up on his words. A moan left her before she could stop the sound from making it past her lips, set on the same goal as Rafe. His ringed fingers rested on her throat, keeping a tight grasp on her, “Gonna need you to speak up, use your words.” 

“Fuck me, Rafe, please.” It was all he needed to hear, momentarily letting go of her to pull his shirt over his head, to free his hard cock from the confines of his trousers, and to pull a condom down his length. She forced herself up on her forearms, resting her weight on them to watch him tower over her. Their eyes held contact as Rafe pushed into her, letting his cock spread her tight walls.

For a second, neither of them moved, allowing their bodies to adjust before Rafe began to fuck her with a faster growing rythm. With one hand resting on the pillow next to her head, he kept himself balanced while the other found its way back to her throat. She stared up at him, fully at his mercy as if the devil himself was fucking her, forcing her to accept that she had just gambled with her soul and lost it to him. 

His thrusts were ferocious, hips meeting hers with every movement, drawing sinful sounds from the both of them. Rafe’s thumb tapped against her lip, forcing (y/n) to open her mouth – seemingly understanding what he was about to do. He stared down at her as he spat onto her tongue, making her swallow his saliva without protesting once, finding the way he was claiming her too hot to fight against it. 

“I should have fucked that tight cunt of yours the first time I laid my eyes on you.” Rafe’s rasped out words left her gasping, eyes rolling back into her head for a second. His words had an instant effect on (y/n), letting her stuttering breaths break out of her as if she hadn’t been allowed to inhale any air for the past minutes. “Such a pathetic little slut, letting the guy others warned you about fuck you. But you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

“I am, fuck, you’re so good at this, Rafe.” She no longer cared about his way too big ego, didn’t care about how desperate she sounded, solemnly focused on her second nearing orgasm. One of her hands found her pulsing bundle, circling it while her free hand moved up his naked back, feeling his muscles tense beneath it.

“Beg for it, baby, let me hear how desperate you are to cum on my cock.” Another moan left her, and another as his thrusts met the spot that made her choke. It took (y/n) a second to find her voice, blabbering a few incoherent begging words before finding her strength.

“Please, let me cum, fuck, I need it, Rafe.” He chuckled against her lips, once again picking up his speed before a raspy “Cum” found its way to her. She choked on her moans, sobbing his name while he followed her down the edge seconds later, moaning into their kiss. 

Heavy breaths left them both, clinging to one another without speaking for a moment or two. Only slowly did he let go of her, pulling away to throw the condom into the trash. (Y/n) watched him move around, redressing while he seemed deep in thought, no longer wearing that arrogant smirk she secretly loved. 

“I heard what you talked about with Sarah this morning.” Rafe had his eyes focused on her, eyebrows furrowed as if he struggled to find the right words. She didn’t say anything at first, dressing herself before plopping back down on the bed. “About bills and payments and all that shit.” 

“Mhm, what about it?” Her tone had something almost bored to it, not daring to let him in on the panic that slowly began to simmer inside of her. She shouldn’t care about what he was thinking of her, even though he had just fucked her better than any other guy she had been with so far. 

“I have a proposition for you, an arrangement if you want. You need someone to help with your bills and I need someone I can trust by my side for all these galas and events I need to show up at, someone to fool partners with.” A humourless laugh left (y/n) at his words, not daring to believe the words Rafe had just spoken. 

“I knew you were an asshole, but I don’t need you to fuck with me like that, Cameron.” She rose to her feet, set on fleeing from this room, but Rafe didn’t let her, hand snapping down on her wrist like it had back in the kitchen. 

“It’s the truth, Sarah seems to like you for whatever reason, and even though her people skills are fucked, I fear she may be right with this one.” His words had a strange undertone to them, a desperation that made her halt for a second. (Y/n) let her eyes wander over his features, studying Rafe who stared at her with an unreadable expression. 

“Do you really mean that? You’d pay me for making you, what? Look good at events? Would I be like a sugar baby?”

[mclacedes]

A Fading Echo (LH44)

CHAPTER II: Going Home

a/n: this is NOT PROOF READ

warnings: breakup, abu dhabi ‘21, rude!lewis, depression, gaslighting, fighting

★ previous chapter

★ next chapter

“For a moment, he wanted to break down and beg Willem not to leave. Don't go, he wanted to tell him. Stay here with me. I'm scared to be alone.”

- Hanya Yanagihara, "A Little Life"

He remembers your final battle—the fight that ended it all; the decision-maker, the deal-breaker.

Four years. You had been together for four beautiful, though turbulent, years. The kind of love story that felt unshakable, weathering the storms life hurled your way. You had your own career, pursuing the dreams you’d cherished since you were a kid. You were finally at a stage in life where everything felt like it fit perfectly. And with him by your side, it seemed like nothing could go wrong.

By 2020—your third year together—things had grown serious, the kind of serious that made people whisper about rings and forever.

You still remember the phone call in March 2020, just as the world began to crumble under the weight of a pandemic, when asked you the question, his voice calm but carrying a thread of anticipation.

“Quarantine with me. In the UK,” he said, his words slicing through the static.

You froze, caught completely off guard. The emotions hit you all at once—joy, anxiety, disbelief—so quickly that you couldn’t string a coherent thought together.

“Y/n?” His voice softened. “You still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” you stammered, your mind still reeling. “I’m just… a little unprepared for that question.”

The pandemic was spiraling into chaos. Quarantine was the new normal, with no end in sight. Weeks? Months? Years? No one knew. There was no vaccine, no cure, just endless uncertainty. The thought of being confined in one place for so long felt suffocating.

“It's just… That's not my house, I don't know if I’ll…” he had this unbearable habit of cutting you off in the middle of a sentence.

“I know, but we can make it home,” you could tell he was beaming with pride for coming up with that sentence. “Home is wherever you are.”

It sounded like a promise. Like he was for real.

“Besides, there won’t be any races for a while. Things will be peaceful, quiet… just us. I think we can make it fun at home, huh?”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Despite the fear and uncertainty, the thought of being with him—just him—was comforting.

You took a deep breath, letting the idea sink in. “Okay, it sounds nice,” and you smiled.

And it was nice. More than nice, really. Those weeks together were filled with laughter and quiet moments, a bubble of peace in a chaotic world.

Eventually, though, he had to leave again. Racing had resumed, and his life called him back to the track. You went to as many races as you could, though he always worried.

“I don’t want you catching that thing,” he’d say, his protective nature shining through.

You’d laugh it off, but you knew he meant it. Those months felt like a rhythm you could get used to—brief separations and joyous reunions. You thought you had found your balance.

But cracks have a way of forming when you least expect them—because people talk. They speculate. They conspire. Perched on the edges of lives they don’t know, they wait for their chance to unravel something beautiful.

Your relationship became a sweet treat for an internet starved for the meanest way to make somebody seem interesting, a spectacle to devour and distort—somebody had to feed those vultures.

By mid-2021, Twitter was buzzing with talk of rings, cradles and bibs. People dissected your (and his) every move, searching for signs of the next big step. But while the world fantasized about your future, Lewis was consumed by a fight of his own—that year's championship; the toughest battle since 2016, since Nico.

You knew his career had always been his first love, the thing that made his heart pump and his eyes shine long before they settled on you. Just as you had your own dreams to chase, he had his. And in 2021, those dreams demanded everything from him—his time, his attention, his softness, and, it seemed, his love for you.

By late 2021, the cracks in your once unshakable foundation had grown too wide to ignore. The championship consumed him, pulling him further away, and you—desperately holding on—began to feel more like an obligation than a partner.

It started with the little things: unanswered texts, “I was catching up on data”, missed calls, conversations cut short with a distracted “Sorry, I’ll call you later”. Later never came thought. Even when you were physically together, his mind was elsewhere, a thousand miles ahead, already focused on the next race, the next strategy meeting, the next battle on track.

You tried to understand. You reminded yourself of his passion, his drive, the fire that had drawn you to him in the first place. But understanding didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

Then it crumbled. December, after Abu Dhabi. It was like everything started to shut down, like multiple organ failure—there’s no surgery to save your relationship. The worst part is that you knew it—you both. The even worse part was that you let it go so easily.

The fallout from that race was cataclysmic, not just for him but for you too. He came home shattered—a man stripped of everything he’d worked for, everything he believed in. You wanted to be there for him, to help him rebuild, but he wouldn’t let you in. He was silent, withdrawn, a ghost of the man who had once made you feel like the center of his universe.

“I’m here if you wanna talk,” you had reassured him once, your voice soft, during a quietly bitter dinner.

“I don’t want to,” he replied sharply, his tone cold and clipped, not even looking up from his plate.

“I know, but what I mean is that—”

“I know what you mean, Y/N,” he interrupted, his voice laced with impatience. “Please, can we just eat?”

The finality in his words stung, sharp and unforgiving. Recessive and heartbroken, you nodded, lowering your gaze to the plate of food you had poured your heart into making—a meal that now tasted like ash in your mouth.

The days dragged on after that, each one heavier than the last. Conversations became sparse, filled only with superficial pleasantries or curt exchanges. The man who used to pull you into his arms and make you laugh until your sides ached now felt like a stranger in your own home.

And then came the day he told you he was leaving.

“I’m going over to my parents,” he said one evening, his voice flat, drained of its usual warmth, as the chill of December crept into the Monaco air.

You blinked, still sitting on the couch surrounded by a scattering of holiday cards you’d been addressing. The weight of his words took a moment to settle.

“Didn’t know they’d spend Christmas with us,” you said, absent-minded, not understanding what he meant yet.

“No,” he clarified, his tone cool and detached. “I’m going home.”

The room seemed to close in around you, the once-welcoming space now feeling alien and far too empty. “Okay… I’ll pack my bags,” you said quickly, standing up abruptly, as if to act like nothing had changed. “How long are we staying there? I hope you’re aware that I’m going home for New Year’s—”

“No, Y/N.” He cut you off, his words sharp enough to slice through the air. “I need to go by myself. Just me and my parents for once.”

Your breath hitched as you processed his words. “Oh. Umm… Okay,” you managed to say, your throat tightening, tears threatening to spill. “It’s just that we… we had planned this. We were supposed to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “Plans changed.”

The dismissal stung, sharp and biting, like a slap to the face. And then, the silence.

“What happened, Lewis?” you asked, the crack in your voice betraying the storm brewing inside.

“How is that even a question?” he snapped, his brow furrowed, disbelief coloring his words. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration leaking from his every pore. “It’s right in front of you, Y/N. It’s been right in front of you.”

“No, it hasn’t!” you shot back, the words tumbling out in a mix of anger and desperation. “You’ve been shutting me out for months. I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore because you won’t talk to me! You won’t let me in!”

“Oh, so now this is my fault?” he retorted, his voice rising, defensive. “I’m the bad guy for not wanting to drown you in my shit? For needing space to deal with the fact that my career—my legacy—was torn apart in front of the entire world?” He turned his back on you, heading toward the hallway that led to your shared bedroom.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Lewis!” you shouted, following him, the frustration boiling over. “The thing is, you made me believe we were a team. We’d face things together. And now, when it matters most, you’re shutting me out!”

But he didn’t listen. His steps were heavy, his mind already elsewhere.

“You said you’re going home!” You screamed, and this time, he finally stopped, his body tensing.

He turned around, his face a storm of frustration. “I am going home, Y/N. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

“What happened to ‘home is wherever you are, Y/N’?” you repeated, your voice shaking with raw emotion. “This isn’t your home anymore? After everything we’ve built together, I’m not your home?”

He scoffed, a cruel sound that sliced through the air. “You’re twisting my words.”

“No, I’m not!” you retorted, your heart pounding, desperate to be heard. “I’m just trying to understand why you think running back to the UK and shutting me out is the answer to anything. You barely even look at me anymore, Lewis. Do you even want me here?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” His eyes narrowed, his tone sharp, though still defensive.

“It means you’ve kept me on the edge for so long. You’re here, but not really. And when you’re gone, we don’t talk. You disappear. I’m not even a part of your life anymore!” You could feel the tears in your throat, but you fought them back. “You dismiss everything we talked about���marriage, kids, a future. Like none of it matters to you anymore. Like you don’t want me in your life at all. It feels like you hate me!”

“Argh, here you go again,” he snarled, his fists clenching. “Shit, you always do this,” he snapped, his voice rising. “Always making it about you,” his index pointed straight at you.

“Because it is about us!” you cried, your voice breaking. “It’s about me too, isn’t it? I’m not some option you can just turn off when you don’t feel like dealing with me!”

“Well, I’m the one dealing with shit right now,” he shot back, his eyes flashing with anger. “And instead of supporting me, you’re interrogating me, saying I don’t care about you. You think that talking about babies and rings is going to fix anything? You don’t get it, Y/N! You’re so focused on your timeline, on what you think I should be giving you, that you can’t see that I’m falling apart!”

You stood frozen, the sting of his words slicing through you like ice. “That’s not fair, Lewis. I’ve been supporting you—”

“Have you?” he interrupted coldly, his voice full of bitterness. “Because all I hear is how you feel. I’m the one who’s lost everything, but somehow, I’m the one to blame. You’ve made this all about you.”

“You keep saying you’ve lost everything, but no,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears now spilling. “You haven’t lost everything. Your legacy is still there. You’re a legend. It’s always going to be remembered. But you’re so lost in your own darkness that you can’t see what’s still in front of you. You’ve lost a championship, so what?”

Lewis’s face twisted with rage, his eyes seething as he glared at you. “So what?” he echoed bitterly. “You think it’s just about a damn race? It’s not just the championship, Y/N. It’s everything. They took it from me. They stole it from me, right in front of everyone’s eyes. And all you can do is lecture me like I’m being unreasonable? You’re standing here talking about legacy and what I’ve achieved, but none of that matters if it’s all been ripped away. What’s left of me when they’ve taken everything?” he said, forcing himself to maintain his composure.

“Yeah, and what's left of us, Lewis?”

The words hit him harder than you expected, and for a moment, he was silent, his jaw tightening. His chest heaved, and his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of pain and frustration swirling in them.

“What do you mean, what's left of us?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly, as though he was trying to understand.

“We,” you repeated, your voice quieter now, barely above a whisper. “What’s left of us when you shut me out like this? When you push me away every time I try to help you, every time I try to understand? What happens when you keep giving them, the media, more than you give to this relationship?”

“I don’t think I have the mindspace to dwell on that anymore, Y/N,” He stood there, seemingly distant, his eyes avoiding yours now. The air between you both felt colder, thicker, like an impenetrable wall had risen between the two of you.

“See? That's what I’m talking about! You’ll just run away, packing it up and not talking to me. You can’t just not think about it, Lewis,” you said, frustration creeping into your voice. “You can’t just shut everything out because it’s easier than facing it. This relationship—us—it’s not a convenience, it’s not something you can just leave behind when it doesn’t fit your narrative anymore.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as if he were searching for a retort but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he said, “I can’t give you what you need right now, Y/N. I can’t be the person you want me to be.”

“I don’t need you to be perfect, Lewis,” you said, stepping closer to him. “I just need you to let me in. I need you to trust me enough to share the weight.”

He shook his head, looking away as if he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is!” you insisted, the tears you’d been holding back spilling over now. “You’re choosing to leave me out. You’re actively choosing to push me away. That’s not about the championship or your career—that’s about us. And it’s killing me, Lewis.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, his face a blank mask. And then, in a voice so quiet, so small, it shattered your heart, he said, “Maybe we were never as strong as we thought we were.”

The words slammed into you like a punch to the gut, leaving you gasping for air. “You don’t mean that,” you pleaded, your voice trembling, cracking under the weight of the truth you didn’t want to face.

Time seemed to slow as he reached for his house keys, his car keys, and the packed handbag—each movement like a dagger slowly twisting deeper into your chest.

“Lewis, no,” you begged, your voice raw, desperation flooding your veins. “No, please, don’t do this. Please stay…”

But he didn’t look back. He didn’t even flinch at your broken cries.

“I’ll see you around,” he muttered, his words empty, hollow. His tone was void of everything that once mattered. Without another word, he walked out, the door slamming shut behind him with a deafening finality.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the sound of the door’s closure ringing in your ears like a death knell. You were left standing there, frozen, in a sea of devastation. Alone. Lost. And questioning everything that had once been so sure.

Nothing was ever the same after that.

For him, that wasn’t just the loss of a championship—it was the loss of himself. Of everything he thought he could hold onto.

You watched helplessly as he sought solace in everything else—the noise, the distractions, the empty comforts—anything but you. Everyone else seemed to understand the depths of his pain, the weight of his loss, except for you. And that fact stung worse than anything he’d said.

That night, you let yourself slip into a crying spiral, tears falling uncontrollably, each one a reflection of the pain that had consumed you. You didn't know how long it lasted, but it felt like hours, your chest tight and raw. Eventually, exhaustion dragged you into a restless sleep, the emptiness settling around you.

A few weeks later, after trying to collect yourself and make sense of the pain, you sent one text.

you: i’ve taken my thing out of your house in Monaco. i’m breaking up with you.

You stared at the message for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the send button, as though giving yourself a moment to breathe before the finality of it.

With a shaky exhale, you pressed send. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything that had built up, everything that had been left unsaid. The knot in your chest didn’t loosen. It didn’t change anything. But it was done. And as you stared at the screen, the absence of a reply was just another confirmation that it was over.

[hwaslayer]

the space between us three (jyh) | three.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 7.4k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language, seora's a smart lil gal who luvs her uncles v much, she does open up a lil bit about her mom, mentions of death, yunho goes out for dinner, making out, one-sided [rushed] feelings tho oof - one of those things where you think it'd play out fine then it doesn't 🤐, a lil glimpse into yunho and his thoughts/how he feels about things, some seora x uncle hwa content, a bit of oc x parents too!

"Hey." Yunho slips on his seatbelt as the call pulls up through the car's bluetooth, on his way out of the staff garage. "Were you able to leave a bit early to get to Seora?"

"Yes, I already told you I'd find a way. I'm pulling up to the lot right now." Yunho lets out a breath of relief, heading over to Ara's loft since she had the day off today. Tonight was the night they'd go out for dinner, something Yunho thought would be fun and harmless. He went into this thinking he'd put himself out there and give it a chance, even though deep down, he's not entirely sure where he lies about this— about her. 

Maybe tonight would help him decide, but he wasn't gonna force it and just let things go with the flow. 

"Looks like I made it just in time. Practice just got out."

"Good." 

"So, what exactly did you tell Seora?"

"That I was heading out to a team dinner."

"Atta boy."

"Shut up."

"Uncle Hwa!" Yunho hears Seora's voice in the background, causing him to smile to himself. "Sup!"

"What's up, little one?" Seonghwa playfully ruffles her hair before pulling her into a hug. "Ready to go? Anything you want before we head home?"

"Hm, that's a good question." She points to the phone. "Wait, are you on the phone with my dad?"

"Sure am." He faces the phone towards her before she grabs it.

"Dad."

"Hey babygirl. I'll be home later, okay? Have fun with Uncle Hwa. Run his wallet dry, he won't mind." She laughs.

"Okay, I will. But, what time will you be home?"

"I don't know, not too late. It could run a little long, though."

"Hm." She hums. "Are you really going to a team dinner?" Seonghwa purses his lips together to prevent himself from laughing out loud.

"Yes." Yunho says, feeling a bit bad to lie to his own daughter. "I'll get home as soon as I can."

"Okay." 

"I love you, ace. Make your uncle useful."

"Okay, okay." She chuckles. "I love you, too." She passes the phone back to Seonghwa before sliding her things into the backseat and settling into the passenger's side.

"Have fun at your team dinner." Seonghwa teases, making Yunho rolls his eyes.

"Not one word, Park Seonghwa."

"Uh huh." He hangs up the phone and slips into the driver's seat, settling in just before turning on the car and looking over at Seora. "So, did you figure out what you want, ace?" She tugs on her hoodie strings as she scrolls through her phone. 

"I kinda want a good ol' burger."

"Burgers and fries sound good right now, actually. Any place in particular?"

"Burger Almighty?" Seonghwa smiles. 

"Nice choice. Do you wanna eat there, or take it back home?"

"Take it back home, please. I need to get out of my practice clothes." Seonghwa nods, pulling up the website in order to place an order for pickup. "Ou, actually, wait. Uncle Hwa?"

"Yup?"

"Can we also stop by for ice cream?"

"Of course." He hands her the phone. "Here, pick whatever you want." She smiles and slouches in the front seat, going through the menu options. She goes back and forth for awhile, but Seonghwa patiently waits. He hears his phone ding and doesn't think much about it until Seora pops in once more, finally selecting her options and adding it to the cart. "Someone named Yoori texted you."

"Oh." Seonghwa looks at her. "I'll get to it later."

"She's asking if you wanna come over tonight." Seora smirks before letting out a small laugh. "Dad mentioned you were kinda seeing someone. Is that her?"

"Dad just airing out my business, huh?" Seonghwa laughs before grabbing his phone. "Is that all?"

"Mhm. Besides the ice cream. Thank you, Uncle Hwa." 

"Course." Hwa quickly texts back that he might stop by before he gets home tonight, but he'll let her know. 

"So, are you seeing her? Kinda seeing her, whatever that means? What does it mean to be kinda seeing someone?" Her questions are coming back to back and Seonghwa can't help but chuckle dryly as he drives out of the lot and towards their first destination.

"We're.. figuring things out."

"What's there to figure out, Uncle Hwa? You either like each other or you don't, right?"

"Things can get complicated, ace. Especially when you get older and your wants and needs in a partner become more solidified. Specific."

"Like..?"

"We're both just not sure if we're ready to take that next step. Or, I guess, it's mainly me."

"Then, do you really like her if you question it?"

"I do. I just haven't been in a relationship in awhile, and I was kinda enjoying my freedom." Seora nods, still unsure about this whole idea of relationship complexities and what not. "You get older and you realize you don't wanna waste anyone's time and effort and vice versa."

"I see." Seora looks at him. "If she likes you a lot too, I don't see what the harm is."

"I don't wanna hurt anyone on accident."

"You wouldn't hurt anyone, Uncle Hwa." He smiles.

"Thanks, ace. But your uncle makes mistakes cause I'm human. As with anyone."

"Dad hasn't really dated anyone, either." Seonghwa shrugs, knowing Yunho has tried and has dabbled in it, but it always never went far. Not far enough that Yunho felt comfortable enough introducing them to Seora and opening that door.

"Mmyeah, cause he doesn't feel the need to when he has you." Seora giggles.

"I like it, though. Just us two."

"Would you be mad if your dad started dating again?" 

"Um, I'm not sure."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess it depends? If I like the person or not."

"Of course he'd make sure you're happy and that you'd get along well with the person."

"Mmyeah. It'd be an adjustment, though. I'm used to it being just us two."

"I know, and your dad is, too. But, he does deserve to be happy, right?"

"What else can make him happier than me, Uncle Hwa?" He laughs and shakes his head. 

"You're right. He is happy." Seonghwa pauses. "Seora, promise me one thing?"

"I can try?"

"You'll keep your mind open to it? You know.. your dad dating and possibly opening the door for another person to step in."

"Mm, sure." She says before there's a brief pause in the conversation. "Sometimes, I wonder what it'd be like to have a mom. I barely got time with mine." She says softly, her voice tapering off at the end of the statement.

"And it was unfair to you." Seonghwa lets out a breath as he navigates the tricky streets of the city, almost nearing their endpoint. 

"Right? Like.. I wonder how it feels to hang out with your mom, or to go on dates with her. Talk to her about girly stuff. Do our hair and makeup together. Nails. Go shopping." Seonghwa turns to her as he stops at a red light, watching as her eyes continue to focus on the surroundings outside. "Dad tries his best. He always tries to do things with me so I don't have to wonder too much, but sometimes I can't help it."

"That's okay, Seora. He knows. He does try his best always, but he knows that question will always be there." She's silent again for a moment, and Seonghwa isn't sure if she's missing her mom or trying to replay the memories that she has left of her. It breaks his heart because he knows Seora is missing a part of her— she just manages to mask it well. 

"Yeah." Is all she responds with me. "I dunno, maybe one day I'll remember what it's like." She says softly. "I have dad for now though, and he's enough."

"One day." Seonghwa repeats after her, not wanting to plunge deeper into the conversation and turn Seora's mood inside out tonight. "Well." He pulls into a spot across the street from the burger place. "There's a convenience store I can run into for your ice cream. What are you craving for?"

"Strawberry, please!"

"That's a good one." He unbuckles his seatbelt before turning to her. "I'll grab our stuff and be back." She gives him a toothless smile and nods, eyes glued onto him as he slams the door shut and locks the car; leaving Seora to her own while she waits patiently in her seat.

Yunho pulls up to Ara's building, parking in the lot after getting through security at the gate. He unbuckles his seat belt and lets out a sigh, dusting himself down before slipping out and heading inside. He presses the front code at the lobby door before stepping inside and heading up to the 3rd floor. When he finally gets to her door, he knocks a few times before stepping back and digging his hands into his pockets.

"Yunho." She says, a smile on her face. She's in a cute baby blue sweater and jeans, white chucks on her feet. It's more of a casual thing, nothing too serious or too fancy. It makes Yunho a little more comfortable that way. Less pressure. "Hey."

"Hey. You look nice." Yunho smiles at her. "Ready?" She nods. "Hope you're down for some ramen?"

"I can always go for some good ramen." She smiles and makes sure her door is shut and locked before following him back down.

"How was your day off?"

"It was good! I spent the day grabbing groceries and deep cleaning my space. But otherwise, it was nice and relaxing. Just what I needed." Yunho looks at her with a small smile.

"That's good. I'm glad you got to relax for the most part. You definitely need it with how hard you work."

"Thanks." She giggles. "How was work today?" He shrugs, her eyes ogling his figure as they step into the elevator. He's in a white longsleeve and a puffer vest, dark denim and chucks.

"Kinda busy. Things are really ramping up with that new department. I feel like our team is constantly getting pulled into things left and right now."

"Aren't you guys hiring another person?" He nods.

"Hopefully, yeah. I have a few more interviews this upcoming week, but should be wrapping up after that. There's two people that the team and I like so far."

"That's good. More help is on the way. A step closer to shedding off some of your workload." Yunho chuckles a bit.

"Yeah, that's the hope. Taehyun has been a lot of help, though. It hasn't been entirely bad."

"That's good to hear." Yunho swings the door open to the passenger's seat, giving Ara the opportunity to slip in and get herself comfortable before he shuts the door and hops in. 

"Heat okay? Too hot?" He asks as he starts up the car and pulls up the directions to a popular ramen shop that just opened last month. The wait is outrageous, but luckily, Yunho threw them onto the waitlist as soon as they opened for dinner. They'll get there just in time for their table to be ready. 

"No, it's perfect."

"Cool." He says, pulling off to begin their journey deep into the city. Ara watches as he drives off flawlessly with one hand, leaning onto the middle console. It's no lie that Ara has always had a crush on Yunho, and she's always thought he was incredibly attractive. She kept her distance though, supporting him as a friend and being careful not to be in too, too deep with her feelings because she didn't wanna scare him off or make him uncomfortable. When he finally asked her out to a casual dinner , she was excited. Butterflies swarming her tummy at full speed— she feels like her patience is paying off.

Maybe this will blossom into something; the one thing she had hoped for with him.

"How's Miss Seora doing?" 

"She's good. Still getting good grades and playing basketball. She's hanging out with her Uncle Seonghwa right now." Ara smiles.

"That's cute. It's really sweet how you guys are close."

"Yeah, he's helped me alot with Seora. She loves having her uncles around. Gives her something new to deal with besides her own father." She laughs.

"I'm sure that girl loves and appreciates you more than anything, Yunho. You're a great dad."

"I try to be." He shrugs. "Although, she used to hate when I tried to do her hair and dress her up. She said I mixed and matched clothes way too much and her ponytails were always lopsided."

"You did your best." Ara laughs a little louder. "Doing hair and dressing up a baby girl is not for the faint of heart."

"Truly isn't." He laughs, while Ara points at his pinky nail. 

"I see she painted your nails?" Yunho briefly looks down at his two pinkies, painted with black nail polish. 

"Sure did. She kept it minimal, though. For work, she says. Just a lil touch." Ara giggles.

"You two are cute."

"Mm, we try to be." Yunho jokes. The conversation continues on as Yunho drives the last 10 minutes to the ramen shop, finding parking right around the corner despite the busy streets and the long line that's forming right outside of the restaurant. He helps Ara out of the car before locking it up, walking alongside of her until it gets too tight to do so. He guides her by the small of her back, pushing her towards the front of the restaurant where the host is. As guessed, they arrive right when their table is ready, the host immediately showing them to their table in the back corner.

She settles into the chair across from him before thanking the host and taking the menu from her hands. They instantly skim their options, with Yunho already deciding on what he wants. He marks it off on the sheet, along with any modifications he wants [extra spicy, extra green onions], while Ara does the same. When they're ready to submit their orders, Yunho calls over the server, handing them their order papers before clasping his hands together—elbow resting on the table as he looks over at her. She's trying her hardest not to blush while sipping on her water, eyes avoiding eye contact cause Yunho makes her feel a certain way.

He just doesn't know if he can reciprocate the feeling. 

Truthfully, if he's being all the way honest— he went into this thinking it'd be chill. Harmless in a sense. Putting himself out there since he didn't have much to lose. He knew Ara's had feelings; even if she never said it out loud, it's pretty obvious. And not to say she isn't a great girl, no. She's great. She's been a good friend to Yunho, and she's incredibly sweet. He couldn't really tell you why he didn't see her in that light, though. Perhaps, he still wasn't ready for a relationship. Or, maybe he was and he already had a feeling that she wouldn't be the right one.

Maybe he's being too critical.

But all he knows, is that in this moment, Ara is giving him heart eyes and she's blushing over everything he does. It makes him feel good, but the other half of him feels bad because when he looks at her, he just sees a friend. Good company.

The night is still early.

Yunho is trying to remind himself.

When the food arrives, they get to eating right away. In between, Yunho dives a little deeper into his dynamic with Seora, touching up on the fact that he doesn't really get a long with his parents but will bear with them solely because of her. Even though they don't do much for their granddaughter, she still wonders about them and how they're doing. She always talks about seeing them soon even though Yunho can never promise that she will. He doesn't talk about Eunha, though. Kinda leaves the conversation at that. He feels like he needs to build a better connection with someone in order to open up about that part of his past. Not only is it too painful, but it's a subject that makes Yunho incredibly vulnerable.

The good thing with Ara is that she doesn't budge nor does she push. She ends up talking a lot about her childhood and growing up with her parents in exchange. She has lived a pretty good life; her parents supporting both her and her sister throughout all their endeavors. Her sister works abroad in the fashion industry, while Ara decided to take the healthcare route. Her parents were supportive nonetheless, pushing them to strive for their dreams and supporting them through every opportunity that came their way. Yunho thinks it's nice that they have that sort of relationship— it speaks volumes to the way Ara carries herself and how sweet she is. She makes a great nurse, a great daughter and sister; and it almost makes her a little too perfect.

Which, isn't bad.

But, also isn't great for Yunho. Because all he is made of is flaws and all; he's got a lot of things he lacks in, he feels. He hasn't been in a serious relationship since Eunha passed and he isn't even sure he knows what the word love is anymore. What it's like to love and be loved. He doesn't focus on himself a majority of the time because that time and attention goes to this daughter. He wouldn't have it any other way, let's get that straight.

However, it's clear Ara has this 'perfect' image of him in her head when he is far from that. He is merely getting by; things hurt the fuck outta him and he stresses over every little thing. He gets overwhelmed easily, anxious, can barely let go of the past trauma.

He doesn't wanna disappoint her. Anyone, as a matter of fact.

The conversation continues until they've both slurped up the last bits of their ramen, and Yunho genuinely enjoyed it once they've stopped talking so deeply. Conversations come easy with Ara and he does like that. He doesn't have to try too hard to think about what to talk about next or how to carry the conversation. Brief pauses in between don't feel awkward.

It's nice.

After dinner, he pays for their meal and turns down Ara's efforts to pay for her half. They joke and tease on the way back to the car, with Yunho turning up the music a tad bit louder this time around so it helps fill the empty space in the car. He feels himself getting a little exhausted, but when Ara looks at him with those eyes and asks if he wants to come up for a bit, he finds himself confused; he should be saying no, but he ends up with:

"Sure." Yunho gives her a tiny, toothless smile as she leads the way back up to her loft. Yunho feels bad for even thinking about going back on his decision because it feels pretty intimate to be coming into someone's space after dinner. He doesn't wanna be rude, though. And, he did enjoy their talk over dinner.

So, he continues despite the inner turmoil that's starting to form.

Back upstairs, Ara kicks off her shoes first before Yunho does. He stands awkwardly near the door while she sets her things down, following her into the living room area once she starts padding over. He plops onto the couch and settles into it; leaning back to rest, arm positioned on the back edge of the couch. Ara gives him a glass of water before sitting down next to him, and Yunho feels himself tense up a bit when he feels her leg brush against his. She's got some kind of psychological thriller show on, and Yunho's trying his best to get invested as it continues to play. Ara gives him a little bit more context to the show, describing it with such big eyes and an excited tone that Yunho finds it pretty cute. 

Then, at some point, she has somehow shifted in her position and is now sitting right against him. He still has his arm on the back of the couch, and she has slotted herself in that opening— sitting criss-crossed as she continues to watch her show. He feels her warmth against his, and he's not sure how to act.

She probably feels how stiff and rigid he is.

"You okay?" She asks and he gives her a smile.

"Yeah, why?"

"I dunno. You got quiet."

"I'm trying to keep up with your show." She laughs.

"It's a lot." 

"All good. It's interesting." He looks down at her. She doesn't say anything, but her eyes are glazing over his features. He watches as she scans his face, down to his lips, and he feels himself swallow thickly because he knows where this is going. She's the first to pull up— suddenly pressing her lips against his in that brief moment they shared and Yunho indulges in it. They hold the kiss there for a second longer before Yunho [mistakenly] deepens the kiss and pulls her onto his lap. The kiss heightens quickly, the show in the background long forgotten. He lets out a shaky exhale in between kisses, with Ara gently pressing herself down against him. She takes Yunho's hand and guides it up her stomach, to her chest— landing on her breast. His eyes widen a bit, the shock causing him to slightly pull back from the kiss to try and read her. She nods though, subtly biting her lip as she leans forward to kiss him again; a soft moan releasing from her lips when he squeezes the flesh in the palm of his hand while she starts to pepper kisses along his jaw, neck.

And as much as he can easily fall into this, say fuck it and just go with it— that's not who he is.

"Wait." Yunho pries his lips off of hers, his hand retracting from her body. "Wait." He repeats.

"What's wrong?" She asks, eyes still full of desire, lust. He can see the way she looks at him and it's even more of a reason to push off. Reality hits tough, and Yunho thinks this is a prime example of when it's both a blessing and a curse.

"Ara, I'm sorry. I'm—" He looks at her with his big, brown, sad eyes. Because it's not her at all, it's him. He's just not into this and he doesn't really know how else to tell her. "I can't." She sinks into her seat and Yunho feels so, so bad. "I don't wanna do that to you." He sighs and scoots back a bit. "You're great, you really are. But, you deserve someone who is sure of you. I'm sorry I can't be that person. I just— I just think we're good as friends." He sighs. "I'm sorry if I had lead you on or gave you any mixed signals, that wasn't my intention." He says softly, and Ara can't even be livid at him because of how genuinely sweet and apologetic he's being. "I shouldn't have come up here—"

"Yunho, it's okay." She says with a forced, reassuring smile, hopping off his lap because damn, this is awkward. Not only does the rejection hit her hard, but she must look desperate and way too needy for him now. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to move so quickly, I thought—"

"You don't have to apologize." Yunho stands and gathers himself. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just.."

"We're better off as friends." She finishes the statement and he can't help but shrug. He doesn't know how to explain it, but he doesn't want her to think she did anything wrong.

She didn't.

"I hope you believe me when I say it isn't you. You are amazing and anyone would be lucky to have you. I—I haven't done this in a long time and quite frankly, I don't think I'm ready."

"Or maybe, it's just not me you want. And that's okay, Yunho. You're probably right— maybe we are just better off as friends."

"I'm sorry." He says weakly. "I really hope I didn't mess this up because I'd still like for us to be the same as we were before."

"No, of course not." She says even though it's obvious she's got tears welling in her eyes and she's hurt. Yunho feels his heart drop, but at the same time, he knew he had to stop it before it could get too deep—

Before he could make a terrible mistake; do the unthinkable to someone he cared about as a friend first and foremost.

"Ara."

"I promise it's all okay." She nods. "I agree with you, and we shouldn't force this if it's not meant to happen." She gives him another forced smile.

"I'll head out and give you some space. I'm sorry." Is all he can respond with. He walks over to her door and slips back into his shoes before looking back at her. She purses her lips and doesn't say much, and it makes Yunho feel like he's already ruined this.

Damn, Yunho.

"I'll see you on Monday, yeah?" She nods quietly again while opening the door for him.

"Thanks again for dinner. It was great. I can send you my half—"

"No, no need. Dinner was on me, remember? It's totally fine." He gives her a tiny, toothless smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." She answers, allowing him to walk further down the hall before shutting the door and getting back to her own peace. She's hurt, not gonna lie. She truly felt like there was hope, especially with the texts exchanged and the way he was good to her tonight. But, looking back at it, it could have been her fault for completely assuming and jumping the gun— it was Yunho just being Yunho.

Oh well.

Maybe things will be better in the future, and the timing would align. She understands he has different priorities right now, and that's okay. Who is she to determine that for him?

Yunho gets back into his car and lets out a hefty sigh, sitting there for a second before grumbling a low 'fuck' to himself. He feels really bad and he knew he should've dropped her off and left it at that.

But, no. 

He had to go and be stupid about it.

At least he can say he tried, right? That should count for something.

"Wanna put up another movie? Your dad's date—" Seonghwa pauses and looks at Seora as she furrows her brows at him. They had put on a movie after Seora freshened up for the evening. She didn't have too much homework, so she finished up the last bits with the first movie on before they had indulged in dinner. Now, her and her Uncle Hwa were eating ice cream, looking at more movie options to throw on until her father would get home. "Your dad's team dinner should be done by now."

"Date?"

"I didn't say that."

"Uncle Hwa." 

"What?" Seora gives him one last look before pinching him on the bicep, causing him to let out a yelp. "Swear! I don't know where you heard that from." He cocks a brow up playfully. "It's a team dinner."

"Oooookay." She playfully cuts her eyes at him before going through the movie options. "You can just say so."

"Ou, look." Seonghwa diverts her attention to the TV and points at a movie to put on. "Let's watch Rogue One, I haven't seen that one in a minute."

"Or, we can watch Degrassi or—"

"You definitely don't need to poison your brain watching that mess."

"You sound more like my dad than my dad." Seonghwa scoffs as he takes the remote and puts on Rogue One.

"You need to watch more educational things. Like Rogue One. Stepping into your powers and using them for good."

"They're a group of rebels, Uncle Hwa."

"A group of rebels preventing mass destruction!" Seora sighs as she sits back and finishes the rest of her ice cream, knowing her uncle is very much into Star Wars and lets him have it. It's quiet for a moment before she pops in again, asking about his plans for tonight.

"Have you decided?"

"On what? How I'd use my powers for good?" His eyes are trained on the tv.

"No, silly. If you're meeting Yoori." He looks at her before returning his attention back to the TV.

"Why does it matter if I do or not?"

"Uncle Hwa, you can do whatever you want. Just don't mess up because you're too afraid to admit your feelings."

"Hey!" He looks at her with a brow cocked up. "How do you even know about things like that?"

"I'm about to be 12."

"Yeah, you were born yesterday." She playfully rolls her eyes and scoffs. "You shouldn't be knowing things like that."

"Please. I am right, aren't I?"

"I don't know if I'm going to go yet because I have work tomorrow."

"I hear excuses." He gasps.

"Jeong Seora—"

"Yo!" Yunho walks in right at that moment, causing Seora to shift her attention to the door; tormenting her uncle now a long lost thought in her head.

 "Dad!" Seora squeals and runs over to her dad, koala'ing him and causing him to laugh when she hangs onto him like tomorrow will never come. "You're home!"

"I am." 

"How was your team dinner?" Seonghwa looks at him, wiggling his eyebrows while Seora is still preoccupied with grabbing her dad's attention.

"Date, you mean."

"What?" Yunho looks down at her.

"Uh, Uncle Hwa said you went out on a date." Yunho knits his brows at Seonghwa and all he can do is shrug.

"No, I never said that." Hwa cuts in to lie again. "I said team dinner. Anything else you heard was created by your own mind." Yunho glares at him.

"Did you?" Seora looks up at her dad, chin pressed against his chest while she keeps her arms around him.

"It was just a team dinner, is all."

"Sure." Seora sarcastically says before unwrapping herself from him and walking off to the bathroom. "It's fine or whatever, you know!" She shuts the bathroom door.

"See you've managed to talk to Seora about a lot."

"Sorry, it kinda slipped out." Seonghwa chuckles and Yunho mocks him. "Besides, she was just grilling me about Yoori."

"How did that happen?"

"Yoori texted me earlier asking if I wanted to come over while ace was putting in her order. She was scolding me right before you walked in. That girl is way ahead of her time."

"Been knew that." Yunho chuckles.

"How'd it go? Did you and Ara do anything?"

"Anything as in dinner, yes?" Yunho is confused, even though he knows exactly what Seonghwa is picking at.

"Okay.. and?" Yunho sighs and shakes his head.

"Kissed her but didn't go very far." He mumbles lowly.

"Why not?"

"I just wasn't feeling it, honest to god. I didn't wanna do that to her." At this point, Seora swings the door back open, causing both Seonghwa and Yunho to turn their attention down the hall before looking at each other. 

"We'll talk about this later." Hwa chuckles a bit. "Should've gone all the way." He says barely above a whisper.

"No." Yunho almost scoffs while he grabs his things and prepares to head out. "Get out." Unbelievable.

"On my way, boss." Seonghwa laughs. "Let me go say bye to ace." He walks down the hallway, giving Seora another big, tight hug before heading out. Yunho gives him one last final goodbye before shutting the door and locking up for the night, heading in to catch up with Seora and hang out with her before the night ends.

"So, really dad. How did your team dinner go?" She smirks as she comes back outside and plops on the couch. Yunho chuckles a bit before shrugging.

"The usual. It was.. good bonding time."

"Hm." She hums. "That's good. What did you guys get to eat?"

"Ramen."

"A fine choice for this cold evening." He laughs.

"Wanna continue a few episodes before we call it a night? I'm just gonna change."

"Sure. Do you want me to grab you a bowl of ice cream? I made Uncle Hwa buy me some strawberry ice cream after picking up our burgers. Ice cream is the best when it's cold out."

"That sounds good, ace. Thank you." She smiles while getting up to grab a bowl of ice cream for her dad, excited to finally spend the rest of the evening with him all to herself.

"Dad! My friends are waiting." She pouts a bit, staring at her father as she stands near the passenger door, watching as he slips into his shoes.

"Seora, I promise you I'm coming." Yunho pats his jeans down before doing one final check around the house to make sure everything has been shut off post-breakfast. Meanwhile, you've parked your car near your parents' front gate, grabbing your bag from the front seat before looking at the house and letting out a sigh. You'd give your parents some time today, accompanying them to buy groceries and while running other errands. You knew it'd be a long day, but you did owe it to them.

You needed to do better, you reminded yourself.

Just as you're about to make your way towards the gate, a familiar face comes popping out of the next door house— causing you to pause in your motions and furrow your brows in pure, utter confusion.

Yunho?

"Hi?" You look at Yunho [clearly confused] as he hurries along to the driver's seat. He does a quick double take before pausing briefly, also giving you the same look you gave him a few seconds ago.

"Hey?" He says. "You're—"

"Yeah. My parents."

"Dad, please—" Seora swings the door open. "Oh my god— we're gonna be so late." He lets out a small sigh as he checks the time and realizes they won't be late— his daughter is just eager to get to her friends per usual.

"Seora." He calls her name once more. "You're not gonna be late, okay? Relax." He turns to you with a small smile. "Sorry. Gotta run. I'll talk to you later? Say hi to your parents for me." You give him a small nod before he slips in. You watch him talk to his daughter while slipping on his seatbelt, wasting no time to pull away and drive off shortly afterwards.

"Hey you!" Your mom says, coming down to unlatch the gate.

"Hey. Yunho is your neighbor?" Your eyes are still on the road.

"Yeah, you've met him before at work? I didn't think you two ever crossed paths at the hospitals."

"We don't, but we're working on a big project together now." Your mom smiles from ear to ear.

"He's a good man. Seora, she's growing up to be such a lovely young lady. They're sweet. Such peaceful neighbors. Cutest duo I know." She drags you inside. "Go say hi to your dad, he's in the sunroom watering his plants. Tell him we should eat so we can go." She starts prepping the servings. "Where's Wonwoo?"

"Busy." Your mom gives you a look. "But, we're coming back next weekend. He just made plans already and can't flake."

"I'm sure his friends would've understood if he told them he was visiting his parents."

"Mom. We're coming back next weekend, okay? Please let him be" Your mom gives you a look before setting the food down for a late breakfast while you greet your dad and give him a big hug. 

"So, sounds like you met Yunho?" Your dad asks as you both walk back inside to finally before heading out to run errands.

"I did. Well, during a work meeting. Then, I just ran into him not too long ago. Looks like him and his daughter were in a rush to leave somewhere."

"He's taking her and her friends out shopping." 

"And how do you know that, Miss Ma'am?" You look at your mom while she places a bowl of rice down in front of you.

"I pop in to check on them from time to time. I dropped off some of this food earlier so they could eat it later."

"Do you always bring them food?"

"Most of the time."

"Your mom cooks with them in mind." Your dad adds.

"Oh, hush. I feel bad for the two sometimes. Yunho's been doing it all by himself." Your mom clicks her teeth, mainly out of guilt and worry. The three of you continue to eat away at the food your mom prepared, getting some fuel in to save money on food. "His wife passed away when Seora was just 4 years old."

"Honey." Your dad says. "Can you not tell his whole life story?"

"Why not? I wanna know."

"Then ask him." Your dad says, suddenly getting protective of Yunho. "I know you feel bad, but you should let him tell his story if he wants to."

"Your dad is such a grump."

"Okay, no. He's kinda right." You agree before getting way too ahead of yourself. It is a sensitive subject, and it shouldn't be told by anyone else other than Yunho himself.

"He's a really good guy, though. You should get to know him. Wonwoo, too. Maybe you two will learn a bit more about discipline and spending time with your loved ones before it's too late." You roll your eyes even though there is truth to the statement. 

"Anyway, enough about that. Where are we going today?"

"Well, we have a bunch of groceries to grab. I also need to stop by the pharmacy to pick up my medicine."

"We need to stop by the furniture store too. We've been planning to replace the couch in the living room because of the wear and tear. I think it's time." Your dad reminds your mom.

"Do you guys know what couch you want already or are we gonna shop there?"

"Gonna shop there."

"I do need to find a new shelf for my room."

"See, spending time with your parents can be beneficial."

"Dad, can you please tell her to stop?"

"Honey. She's here, okay? Your son is coming next weekend. All is well."

you: she's doing it again

wonwoo: sorry dude 😖  i'll be there next weekend to take it all

wonwoo: where are you guys going?

you: groceries, pharmacy, furniture shopping

wonwoo: actually sounds kinda fun

you: yeah? then why aren't you here, dumbo

wonwoo: i'm currently in a cabin near the south end 😎 living in peace

you: bye

While you've managed to peacefully eat the rest of your meal with your parents before heading out, Yunho and Mingi are walking around the department store while the girls go from floor to floor, section to section. They managed to snag some coffee before heading in, Yunho already exhausted from picking up Seora's friends to fighting over parking in the already-full mall garage. He's glad he finally gets a moment to chill out for a second, despite the girls squealing and being loud about how cute certain clothes or items are. He's already bought some of her stationary needs, along with a new color-way of Nike dunks she had been eyeing since release.

His wallet will be crying even more in due time, but it's all worth it if Seora goes home happy and content.

"Seora." She turns to look at her dad. "Not too far, okay?"

"Okay, we're just going over there to the juniors section!" Yunho and Mingi watch them speed off to the other corner before browsing the mens section nearby, Mingi already eyeing a jacket near the front racks.

"So."

"Just ask, Mingi." Yunho spits, making Mingi laugh.

"I see your date with Ara didn't go too well?"

"It wasn't even a date. I just went out to dinner with her and it was fine. We had a good time then, it was what happened after that didn't go well."

"Okay, so? What happened after?" Mingi sips his iced americano while the two of them continue to walk around the store, keeping the girls in eye view ahead. 

"We went back to her place, she invited me in." Yunho shrugs. "We were watching stuff on her TV and things kinda escalated. Started kissing her then she tried pushing it further."

"And you said no?"

"Mingi." Yunho looks at him. "You know I'm not like that. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't do it to her. I just can't if I'm not emotionally tied to someone." Mingi nods.

"Nah, that's fair. And probably the right thing to do."

"Probably? It is the right thing to do."

"Right." Mingi responds, a bit distracted by the fine women passing by as they continue to walk around the store. "No, you're right. Sorry." He brings his attention back to his bestfriend. "Assuming Seora didn't know you went out with a lady friend?"

"I don't know, Hwa might've let it slip and I think she believed it but doesn't wanna ask. Or maybe, she doesn't even care." Yunho chuckles.

"I think she'd be fine with you going out on dates, you know? Maybe you don't have to lie to her about it. At some point, she'll need to know especially if you get serious with someone again."

"I'll open up to her about it when I get there. I'm in no rush, though."

"Fair."

"Randomly speaking, I finally saw one of Auntie Love and Uncle Po's kids today."

"Oh, really?"

"She works with me at the hospital. She's at the pediatric unit, though."

"Is she hot?" Yunho clicks his teeth and looks at him.

"Do you ever think about anything else?"

"I'm genuinely asking." Mingi smiles.

"She's pretty."

"What's her name?"

"No."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because you don't even know her."

"You want her for yourself, huh?" Yunho just pauses to look at his bestfriend, causing Mingi to smirk while continuing to project. "Selfish son of a bitch."

"I'll deck you—"

"Dad." Yunho and Mingi turn their attention to Seora and her friends, who each have a few clothing items hanging on their arms. "We're gonna go try these on." She points to the dressing room in the far corner behind the juniors section.

"Okay. Uncle Mingi and I will head over in a bit." He subtly elbows Mingi near the rib, causing him to let out a small 'ow.'

"Good, cause I wanna show you how it looks so hurry." She says, turning on her heel to rush over to the dressing room with her friends without batting an eye at her dad and uncle's antics. 

"The fuck was that for? Seriously, do you have your eyes on Auntie Love and Uncle Po's daughter?" Yunho glares at Mingi again as they slowly head over to the dressing room.

"I don't know, okay? I barely know her." Yunho sips on his coffee. "We're gonna be working together quite a bit from now on though because of that new department."

"Interesting."

"Interesting?" Mingi gives him a look. "Why are you giving me that look? It was both you and Hwa who told me to put myself out there."

"Yeah, I'm very aware. And that's great! I just wanted to know if she was cute or not." Mingi laughs. "So, what's her name?" He asks again, making Yunho rolls his eyes and let out a sigh.

"Y/N."

"Pretty."

"That's all I'm telling you."

"Mhhhm." Mingi hums and laughs. "Hope it works out."

"Whatever happens, happens."

"Speaking of things happening— are you and Ara still friends?"

"I think so. We didn't end the night entirely on a bad note. At least, I don't think so. I felt bad and kept apologizing, but she said she understood and it was fine."

"You know it's never just that."

"Well, I'm aware I hurt her to an extent. I'm not gonna lie and try to brush that off."

"You think she'll talk to you if you run into her on Monday?"

"Maybe. I hope so. I really do want us to keep being friends."

"Of course." 

"And who knows, maybe now just isn't the right time. It could work out later."

"Yeah, maybe. But also, if I can be frank, you really don't seem all that into her. I feel like that dinner would've gone way differently if you were set on her." Yunho shrugs.

"It's not her fault. She didn't do anything wrong."

"I mean, it's fine. You probably can already tell you aren't compatible, plus I know you're thinking about how Seora would get along with her, too."

"Mmyeah. I think she woud've liked Ara, but I think you're right. I don't think we'd be compatible."

"Isn't it kinda early to say that, though?"

"Dunno. You tell me. I'm just going off of my gut feeling. I can't force myself to feel a certain way."

"Touché." Mingi sighs. "It's alright, my guy. We still have time. You'll find someone. Maybe it's Y/N."

"Shut up." Mingi laughs before sipping on his coffee, distractedly heading back to the menswear to grab the jacket he had been eyeing this entire time. While he tries it on and pays for his item, Yunho sits near the dressing room while scrolling through his phone. He finds your Instagram page being recommended to him, which he finds to be somewhat uncanny now that he's been talking about you and running into you [despite being assigned to the same project at work]. He can't help but be nosey, clicking onto your page to scroll through your pictures. 

You are pretty.

"Dad." Yunho shifts his attention from his phone to Seora, who is standing in front of him in beige cargo pants and an oversized baseball jacket that looks just like the one he's wearing at the moment. "What do you think about the jacket and pants?" Yunho smiles and nods.

"That looks good, ace."

"I really like that jacket of yours." She points and he nods.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've bought one for you at the time." She shrugs.

"I didn't think too much about it before. Now I want it." He laughs.

"It looks good."

"Okay, I'm gonna try on this one other shirt and sweater and I think I'll be good. Can I buy them?" 

"If you promise me you'll wear it more than once." 

"I promise!"

"Swear? I better not find it in your donation pile in the next few weeks."

"Dad, I pinky promise. For real."

"Okay then." 

"Yay!" She turns her attention to her friends who are also coming out to show each other what they've been trying on. "Oh my god, that's so cute—" She says, heading back into the fitting room and leaving Yunho alone to your instagram page. He continues scrolling through slowly, peeking at your pics from your travels.

You and your friends that he recognizes from the hospital.

Your selfies where the natural light hits you perfectly.

Your candid photos where your smile is genuine and contagious.

You and your brother, your parents that he and Seora adore.

You really are pretty, and there's something about you that is enticing. Intriguing. A 'lil magnetic and alluring. 

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing to work alongside of you on this project.

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf @jaytheatiny @lucid-galaxys-world @chaotic-floral @sofkloster

[shuavez]

2:58am — j.ww

tags/warnings — waiter!wonwoo x reader. no warnings!

a/n — i love pancake parlour. that’s it that’s the fic.

The diner is quiet, save for the soft hum of the company Spotify playlist filling the air and the occasional sound of banter drifting from the kitchen, where the cooks are talking about anything but the food. The bright lights above cast a muted glow over the half-empty tables, the remnants of late-night customers already cleared away.

You’re finishing up wiping down already-clean tables, the cloth warm and damp in your hands, the rhythmic motion soothing after hours of not much happening. The clock on the wall ticks lazily toward 3 a.m., and it’s just you and Wonwoo left.

“God, it’s dead tonight,” you mutter, pushing the last of the crumbs off a booth with a sigh. You glance over at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

He looks up at you, his lips curling into a smile. “At least we have a place to ourselves.” He’s always so calm, always managing to make even the dullest hours feel comfortable.

“True,” you reply, leaning on the counter next to him. “I’m almost too comfortable. I feel like we should start a podcast or something. ‘Pancake Philosophy.’ I mean, we have all the time in the world for deep, philosophical conversations, right?”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I’m not sure you’re ready for my thoughts. Some of them are too deep for you.” His voice is playful, but you catch the hint of affection behind the teasing.

“Too deep, huh?” you tease back, grinning. “I bet you’re the type of guy to have a secret stash of journals filled with all your musings.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, but his smile lingers, as it always does when you’re around. “If I had a secret stash, I’d probably burn it. Who needs to remember all that nonsense?”

“I think you secretly want to be a philosopher. Bet you’ve thought about it,” you poke, leaning in a little, eyes narrowing playfully.

“Maybe.” He looks at you, his expression softening a little. “Maybe I just want to be good at something.”

“Pretty sure you’re already good at everything, Wonwoo,” you reply, giving him a half-hearted eye roll. “I can barely get my one job done, and you’re over here making pancakes look like art and being wise at the same time.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head. “You’re being dramatic. But you do have a point. I’m good at pancakes.”

“You’re the best at pancakes,” you affirm, nudging him with your shoulder. It’s playful, easy—like it’s always been between you two. There’s a smoothness to your friendship, a shared understanding without needing to say much. You’ve both been here countless times before, these quiet hours at the end of the night, and it’s always felt like home.

From the back, you hear Jeonghan’s voice echoing out to the front of the diner. “You two still here? I’m done with you. Go home already.”

You glance up at the clock—it’s almost 3 a.m., and he’s right. You’ve been finished with your shift for a while now, but there’s something nice about hanging around with Wonwoo, the air light and comfortable.

“Well, guess we’re done,” you say, gathering your stuff and heading toward your usual booth. “I’m not gonna complain about leaving early, but I swear, one of these days, I’m going to be too good at this job.”

Wonwoo falls in step beside you, nursing a stack of pancakes the cooks had kindly prepared for your knockoff. “I’m sure you’ll make it to employee of the month eventually. Don’t worry.”

“You’re really gonna stick with that ‘employee of the month’ thing?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “At this rate, I’m more likely to get ‘most likely to break something before the end of my shift.’”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure you’ve already won that award. Multiple times.”

“Rude.” You give him a playful shove as you both walk to the far booth in the corner of the diner, slipping into your usual seats. “I’m not that bad.”

Wonwoo chuckles, reaching immediately for a fork. “Let’s be real—if anyone’s gonna break something, it’s you.” He smirks, poking idly at the edge of a pancake.

You roll your eyes again, grabbing the syrup and drizzling it over the pancakes that still sit between you two. “I’m not that clumsy, alright? I can handle a few spatulas and a knife without causing a catastrophe.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, his smile widening. “If you say so.”

You settle into a comfortable silence after that, just the sound of your forks scraping against plates filling the air. It’s a simple, ordinary moment, but it’s perfect in its own way. You’re used to this—eating pancakes at 3 a.m., laughing over the stupidest things, making fun of each other like friends do. But tonight, something’s different.

After a while, Wonwoo finally speaks again, his voice a little softer, more serious. “Hey, uh… I was thinking.”

You glance up at him. “That’s dangerous. You thinking always leads to something weird.”

He laughs, but there’s something nervous in it. “Maybe. But, uh… you wanna go out sometime? Like, outside of work?” His words stumble over each other, but you catch the sincerity in them, the way his gaze lingers just a little longer than usual.

You freeze, your fork halfway to your mouth, and blink. Wonwoo’s never been the type to make bold moves—he’s always been the quiet one, the one who observes more than speaks. The idea of him asking you out feels like something out of a dream.

“Like a date?” you ask, a little breathless.

“Yeah,” he confirms, voice quiet but earnest. “I mean… I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Just didn’t know how to ask. I didn’t want to make things weird.”

You stare at him for a moment, heart pounding in your chest, and a slow smile spreads across your face. “I’d like that,” you say softly. “I think I’d really like that.”

Wonwoo visibly relaxes, his smile returning, this time warmer. The tension that was there just a moment ago melts away, and the air between you two feels lighter. He looks down at his half-empty plate, suddenly unsure again. “I’ll… figure out when and where. I’ll make it good, I promise.”

After a few minutes, you finish the last bite of your pancakes, and you both slide out of the booth. The night air hits you both as you walk toward your car, the cool breeze stirring the stillness around you. There’s a slight unease in the air, but it’s not bad—just new.

There’s a pause—an almost awkward silence, but it’s filled with the weight of unspoken feelings, the kind that have been lingering in the air for far too long. Wonwoo shifts on his feet, then looks at you, his voice low and careful. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

The question, so polite and sincere, takes you by surprise. It’s almost as if he’s asking for permission to release something that’s been building between you two. You nod, a little breathless, and his hand comes to rest gently at your side.

He leans in slowly, cautiously, like he’s afraid he might break the fragile tension between you. When his lips finally meet yours, it’s soft at first—tentative, almost awkward, as if both of you are learning how to fit together in this new way. But then, with a shift of his weight, a soft sigh against your lips, it changes.

The kiss deepens, the rhythm coming naturally now as you both move in sync. It’s a release, an exhale of everything unsaid, and you lose yourself in the warmth of it. His lips are gentle yet insistent, his hand tentatively brushing the side of your face, and you can feel the quiet urgency that’s been hidden beneath the surface.

Just when you’re beginning to lose track of time, a voice breaks through the moment.

Jeonghan’s leaning against the door, holding a trash bag. “Well, look at that,” he says with a sly grin, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve been counting down the days until Wonwoo grew a pair.”

You laugh, pulling away from Wonwoo with a grin, and Jeonghan’s teasing only makes the moment feel more real.

“I’ll text you,” you say to Wonwoo, quickly pulling out your phone and setting a time and place. The promise of a real date, outside of work, feels like something new and exciting.

As you drive away, the taste of hot fudge and maple syrup lingers on your lips, mixing with the sweet anticipation of what’s to come.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 19

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. credit to @sweetwolfcupcake for finding the perfect donaka pic for this chapter! 😘😘 all chapters

Nineteen. 十九

You enjoy the duration of the ride, all the way up to Causeway Bay. He pulls up to a towering building, one of so many on Gloucester Road. 

“What’s this?” you ask, craning your neck as you look upward. 

“I believe they're called skyscrapers…” he answers cheekily. 

“Haha. I mean what are we doing?”

“Yum cha, of course.”

Your stomach starts to rumble almost on cue at the mention of this Hong Kong lunch-time tradition of tea and dumplings. 

You're not sure why it surprises you when he passes the keys to a young valet at the door. 

 “Does it ever worry you, handing the keys over to a two-million dollar car?” you ask as you take his arm. 

“Not really,” he answers. “It’s insured, and they know there would be consequences, if there was an incident.” 

“Hmm. Isn’t there a huge market for stolen luxury cars on the mainland? Like, don’t the Triads put them on speedboats and whisk them away in the dead of night?” 

Donaka chuckles darkly down at you. 

“What a morbid imagination you have.” 

“I read it somewhere.”

“One of your dubious internet searches, no doubt,” he comments with a knowing smirk. “You really shouldn’t Google ‘how to get away with murder’ so cavalierly.” 

This makes you pause as you are stepping over an uneven crack in the sidewalk. You almost teeter over in your high platforms, and you might have fallen if not for his steadying hand upon you. 

You remember that thread of research–from a long time ago. 

“It was for a book.” How far back did his sleuthing on you go? 

“Sure it was. Not for the ex boyfriend who was heckling you?” 

There had been a time when one of your exes had spammed you with messages on Facebook, asking you to hang out again with the poorly disguised intention of resuming your relationship, as though he hadn’t cheated on you with another backpacker in a hostel in Kathmandu. Murder was a bit drastic, but after the time he gave you before the cheating, the gaslighting, the degradation, and the way he would yell at you for utterly inconsequential things, you wouldn't have shed a tear if he'd been mauled by monkeys and fell off a mountain. 

You realize that from now on you might as well assume Donaka has read every little detail of your online life, whether it was password protected or not. This doesn’t surprise you as much as it might have a month ago. In fact…you’re damn near resigned. 

Rather than push you off balance, as usual, this time you merely roll your eyes. “Afraid I made my personal FBI agent clutch his pearls?”

“Undoubtedly.” 

He smirks down at you, and you can tell by the glitter in his shark-black eyes that he is enjoying himself. 

“Does my search history make you nervous, Mr. Mark?” you tease, knowing the likelihood is zilch to nil. He pushes your hair behind your ear, before tilting your head up with just a touch too much force to be considered polite.

“If you were going to try to kill me, y/n, you would have done it by now.” 

You gape up at him, flummoxed as usual. Does this mean he thinks he’s worn you down…or do you dare hope…you’re finally safe? You grasp for this latter possibility with greedy hands before your higher brain slaps the foolish notion down. 

Surely this man is only fucking with you, the way he has been all along. 

You are not safe with him, that inner voice chides. 

Why do you find it so hard to listen to it lately?  

In the end, you have to ask. “Does that mean…you're going to be nice to me now?”

He snorts, ushering you inside with his hand utterly spanning the small of your back. He doesn’t answer until the doors slide closed, and he crowds you into the wall with his big body, caging you with his arms on either side of you. Your treacherous heart leaps into your throat, torn as usual between fear and absolute immolation. He looks down at you with the sharp hunger of a wolf as he informs you, “You haven't even seen my mean side yet, sweetheart.”

Your mouth goes dry, and for some stupid reason you can’t tear your gaze away from his lips. 

You can only manage one pleading word past the tightness in your throat, your hand sliding over the hard plane of his chest, resting above his wicked heart. “Donaka…”

You don't really even know what you're asking him for? Mercy, or your final ruin?

The elevator dings at your floor. “Later.” He rights himself, taking your hand to lead you into the foyer of the restaurant. It’s a beautiful space, all dark high-polished wood and soft lighting. Backlit wooden screens bearing cutouts of undulating dragons and Chinese characters take up one wall. You wonder if it tells a story. The host addresses Donaka reverentially by name, and immediately ushers you to a table for two by the window. 

The view of the glittering blue bay below teeming with boats is breathtaking from this high up. 

If you knew nothing about Hong Kong, just looked at the teeny tiny green island on a map in relation to the mainland, and then to the whole world…it would seem hard to fathom what all the fuss is about. But there is a special magic to this place that you maybe sensed all along, yet had no hope of truly understanding, and you realize you still don’t. You wonder if that will ever change, or if this place will forever remain a dazzling mystery to you. 

“You like the view?”

 You simply nod, awed by the bustle below and your chic surroundings and the unlikely treat of being out in public with Donaka, you realize, for the very first time. Without thinking you find yourself reaching for his hand across the table, sliding your fingers into his. You feel him tense, as though you've actually done something to surprise him–or anger him.  You meet his eyes across the table, and for a split second you get the odd feeling that you aren't the only one who is uncertain.

It passes so quickly you are almost convinced you invented it. His long fingers wrap around yours possessively, the corner of his mouth pulled upwards. You can't tell if he's smirking at you, like you're the butt of a joke you don't understand– or if he's simply pleased. 

You’re not terribly proud of it, but it does not escape you that this man could show you a side of this city you never could have accessed before. Of course you always knew he was rich, but there is an upper echelon of of unfathomably wealthy people on this little island, and you’re beginning to suspect that Donaka might be one of them. 

Not for the first time you marvel that this handsome, well-connected man could have anyone in the world–and yet he’s chosen you. But then you tell yourself, also not for the first time, that he never could have gotten away with what he’s done to you, if he’d taken someone who mattered.

He watches you intently as you are thinking about all of this; you do not know what he reads in your expression. Before he can ask the waiter brings tea. Your hands separate on the tablecloth, and you feel the absence of his grasp keenly as though a chasm has opened between you. 

Annoyed with yourself, you dig your nails into your palm. 

The waiter sets down the tea tray, arranging the cups on the table, pouring for you both.  

Donaka chats with him genially in Cantonese, and you think about how morbidly fascinating it is to watch him interact with the public. He has such a commanding presence, and yet somehow he is always perfectly polite. You marvel at how people leap to please him. Do they have any inkling of the monster beneath the mask, or is it simply all charm? 

You catch a few words of their discussion, but most of it goes over your head. You presume he’s ordered for you both, after the waiter trots off for the kitchen. You find, in this instance…you don’t particularly mind. Would you have objected, once? Is he changing you? Or are you just surviving? You find you’re not particularly sure about any of these questions, and you dig your nails into your flesh even harder, as though trying to wake up from a dream. 

But this is no passing fancy of your sleeping brain. This is real, and you are living it–you have finally made it out of the house, and yet still, he has you. You realize it did not occur to you even once after the car stopped to make a run for it down the sidewalk, or solicit the help of a stranger on the street. 

Has he truly managed to train you? 

It’s not too late. 

You could make a scene, in this beautiful restaurant with its three Michelin stars. (You saw the proud plaque on the wall on the way in). But you look at the man sitting across from you, who is watching you extra intently now, as though he senses that you are a horse that has just remembered she does not require the bit–and you feel the truth settle over you.

You do not want to run.

You would rather sit here with him, and share a tasty meal like normal people, and hope that maybe things will turn around for you after all. 

You seek out his foot with yours, touching it lightly with your toe, and the question in his eyes seems to dissipate, at least for now. In fact, he looks downright pleased, and he tangles you up in his long legs under the table. He holds up his teacup in a silent toast, and gods help you, but you return the gesture and sip, the warm liquid sliding down your throat.

***

With an absolute feast of har gow and dim sum in bamboo steamer baskets filling the table, the two of you chow down. The table offers a taste of everything: succulent little dumplings filled with seasoned pork and shrimp, beef buns so delightful you could die. You even got to try bird’s nest soup for the first time, a delicacy that sounds strange to the Western palette, but something truly special. 

It’s the most full you’ve been in a long time, and you think Donaka might have to roll you out of the restaurant. Playfully you fight over the last dumpling with your chopsticks. He wins, of course, but he offers you the morsel expertly from across the table. You’re sure it’s not exactly good manners, but you cannot damper your utter delight for this sweet gesture from your usually so forbidding paramour.

“I think I’m going to pop,” you confess, winning his quiet mirth from across the table. 

“You liked?”

“Oh god.”

This only makes him chuckle more, and you know you are a ridiculous creature, but the sound is music to your ears. This pure delight makes him seem almost boyish, and you cannot stop yourself from gazing at him, wondering. 

“What were you like, when you were young?” you ask, seemingly out of the blue. 

He narrows his eyes at you, his brow furrowed, though you sense you have not actually displeased him. “Why do you ask?”

“I don't know,” you evade, setting down your chopsticks. “Maybe I wonder…if you were ever innocent.”

He lifts an eyebrow at this, and you shift in your chair, pressing your thighs together in an effort to relieve the sudden ache in your core. 

“Probably not,” he admits.

“Were you ever…happy?”

“Not like this,” he admits, and he could have pushed you out of your chair with a fingertip at that moment.

“What did you look like?”

This makes him laugh, and he too sits back in his chair, bracketing you with his long legs. “Younger, one assumes.”

“Do you have any pictures?”

“On me right now?”

You giggle, intoxicated in the moment. “No. Just in general.”

“I’m not a sentimental man, y/n. It’s not something I would keep around.”

You shrug, not sure if you believe him, deep down. You think that maybe he holds on to things in his way, more than he would like to admit. 

“Were you happy?” he counters.  “As a child?”

“Not often,” you answer immediately. “But then…I didn’t know anything different.”

“What about now?”

You close your eyes for a few long moments, and you realize the answer, crazy as it seems…is yes.

You nod, and the half smile he pays you is more than just triumph. The hunger in his eyes makes you squirm in your seat–yet there is also a certain warmth that you’re not entirely sure what to do with. 

In any other man, you would know exactly what it meant.

Donaka Mark, however…cannot be read so easily. You know it, deep down, even while a part of you dares to hope that maybe there is some genuine softer feeling in this man, just for you.     

“I have to use the restroom,” you say, gathering your ridiculous new purse on your forearm. It's a perfectly normal thing one does after a meal, but you incline your head at your keeper, waiting. He nods, and you go, walking towards the front of the restaurant. 

You can feel his eyes upon you as you walk away.

Yet after you do your business and step out you realize how close you are to the exit. You can see Donaka across the dining room, looking out the window over the water, seemingly not even paying attention to you. You think about how easy it could be, to just slip out of the restaurant unnoticed. Down the stairs, or even the elevator. Kick off these high-rise shoes and run. Make your way to the street, then your embassy. 

Maybe finally make your way home. 

You look again at the handsome man by the window waiting for you, and again you realize…you don't want to. 

If he will treat you well…you could be happy. You could be happy with that terrible rogue, and your new found family of Mei and Mrs. Wong and the other people of his household who have become your fast friends. Even Jason, who undoubtedly knows how you tried to trick him, still treats you kindly. You care for them all, and losing them would hurt in a way you find you’re not prepared to endure just now.  

He holds you hostage with kindness far more effectively than he ever did with fear. If he planned this day just to lull you into a false sense of security…he hit the mark dead on. 

Knowing very well that you could be a lamb returning meekly to the slaughter, you slowly walk back to the table with a strange ringing in your ears. As you take your seat you look upon Donaka with new eyes. 

You would have paid a king’s ransom in that moment, to know if any of this is real. 

Donaka inclines his head at you as you settle in, reaching out to possess your hand across the table with a greediness that surprises you. “So. What made you decide to come back, tou zai yee?”

Little rabbit indeed. 

You look out the window again, reluctant as ever to say it aloud.

He squeezes your hand in his, just this side of too hard. 

“I’ll have it here, or at home with you bent over my knee, bunny,” he assures you, his tone low and dangerous as the warning growl of a tiger. You see the eager gleam in his dark eyes, and you know he’ll be happy either way. 

Here he is, you think to yourself. The predator you knew lurked all along, beneath the genial facade.  

Still, you answer in your stubborn way, “Why make me say it? You already know.” 

You see it out the corner of your eye, when he smirks at you. “Do I? So I was right, you do have expensive taste.” 

This almost feels like a slap. You’re sure he knows it too, but you rise to the bait anyway, fighting to keep your voice low in this public arena. “Donaka, you could have taken me to a street stall on public transit, and I’d still be feeling this way.” 

“What way?” 

“Hoping against hope that this side of you is genuine. Because I like you a lot, when you’re sweet to me.” 

“Hmm. I think I’d bore you to tears, if I was always sweet to you.” 

“Try me.” 

This earns you genuine laughter; you covet it like a precious gem, knowing you’ll hoard it in your memory like a dragon guarding its treasure.  

“Is that all?” 

“No.” 

“I thought not.” 

You find yourself even more reluctant to admit the rest of the truth. It’s a fine blade you walk upon, confessing weakness to this man. It could lead to victory…or demise, with one tiny misstep. Yet like he knows, he waits, his dark eyes boring into you. 

“Go on, y/n. Finish your thought.” 

You make a small sound in the back of your throat that you know is no more threatening to this man than the posturing of a frustrated kitten. He squeezes you harder, and as ever, the strength in his hands never fails to make your insides flutter. 

“Mei…is like a sister I never had,” you admit. 

“You have two half-sisters.” 

“Yes. But they hate me, and I…don’t like them much either.”

He seems to consider this, which for this man, is about as close to surprise as you can get. 

“That girl means so much to you?” 

You nod, still looking out the window, hoping this explanation is enough. You’re afraid if you admit to him that his entire household has become precious to you, he will only use it against you. 

“Hmm. I suppose I can’t scold you for fraternizing with the help.”

You laugh shakily at that. Here you are, gone from housekeeper to kept woman–even if only as of today, somewhat according to your own will.

How the tables have turned. 

Donaka nods, as though mulling this over. It’s interesting to you, that this is the thing that seems to perplex him.

“Very well, y/n. Ready to go home?”

There is a lightness in his tone that emboldens you.

“No. I want more adventuring with you.”

He chuckles at you, his eyes shining like high-polished onyx. “Oh really? Someone thinks she's tai-tai already.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your Cantonese is abominable.” 

“I’m…working on it.” 

He snorts at that, only gently derisive. “Not hard enough. Ask your friend Mei, next time you're gossiping when she should be working.” He says this with a little smile, and you decide he doesn't mind that you have a friend at home, or that you’re making demands to spend more time out with him. 

“Fine. I will.”

He lifts an eyebrow at you amusedly, and damn him for the thrill it gives you. 

“Very well. More adventuring. I know what you'll like.”

You can’t help but think that's been the problem all along.

[cryptid-killjoy]

Delta loved when Frank expressed himself in ways like this, drawing in her blood. She didn't always realize it if it was on her back. Sometimes she'd see it later. Extra surprise gifts for later. How could she not love this man? So psycho for her and so damn cute. It was a winning combo.

After recomposing and letting Frank fix her shirt and wings she was too amused. Frank looked so handsome to her tonight. His grin over getting one over on Arthur even after death felt fitting somehow. She couldn't decide if it was a trick or a treat. It was probably both because it was great. She wasn't mad. For a moment she thought she should be, but she just wasn't. Maybe she liked showing off Frank won again just for old time sake. Maybe she liked when Frank teased Arthur for whatever reason. Maybe she just didn't give a fuck because she had too much real heavy shit in her mind to care about such a silly thing. Or maybe she just found it really damn funny Lil John was the one wearing her number one fan gear when Arthur seemed to be her little stalker.

Either way, she'd reply, "Yes, let's. Our guests are waiting."

Arthur would panic as expected by the couple who were both no doubt inwardly sniggering inside their heads as they walked closer to him. Every step was a doomsday closing in. Did Arthur know Frank had mind powers of some type? Sure. Did he know if it worked on ghosts? He was going to assume it did unstill he knew it otherwise. He tried so hard to clear his mind while he was trying to get his boner to settle and act natural all at once. The stairwell was too long to go rushing down for his prosthetic leg in time to look any sort of normal. But he couldn't think it through. He started to hop down steps in his haste and soon came to the realization as he heard the footsteps catching up behind him.

The more he tried to clear his head the more his thoughts raced the opposite effect happened. His head was filled with more thoughts than before. Everything he told himself not to think about came to the surface. He finally turned around and tried to stand in place on the stair and leaned like he was chilling there.

"Oh, hey guys! Fancy meeting you here of all places."

Delta stopped her feet. She watched as Arthur couldn't figure out where to comfortably fix his eyes upon either one of them. His nerves were on display. That made her grin all the more. The glace at Frank's pants and intenseness after on deliberately not looking there again, at least trying not to. He was having a hard time looking Delta in the eyes. So, of course she kept looking directly in his.

"Uh huh. Yeah, so weird finding us in our own home where we live."

She was cutting him any slack.

"Uhhhhhhhhh, right." He kept trying to keep his waistline turned slightly to the wall. He was hanging on a guard rail. "I was looking for you guys."

"So strange to find us in our own home where we live when you were looking for us."

"Heh. Yeah."

She kept right on his eyes making him all the more uncomfortable.

"Get on with it Arthur. Tell us what you were looking for us for." Still not once mentioning him standing around in the middle of a lengthy stairwell on one leg or questioning it.

"Oh uh right. Well, I'm only here for a night. I just really wanted to see you both. I've been waiting for this night." He started talking faster. "Remember when I used to get into comas, or anesthesia, or whatever and I'd manage to find you guys in death? Now I'm on the other side. It's trickier to find ways. Especially at your castle. Can't get in here."

"That's on purpose."

"Right." He stared for a second with a trying to read Delta wondering if he unwelcome or not and she gave no sign of him not counting when it came to her ghost protections. So the silence eventually was cut off by his own talking. He had to keep going.

"Well uh anyway. I keep trying to warn you and couldn't figure out how till today. I finally got in."

Delta rolled her fingers in a hurry this up motion.

"Right. Right. What I'm trying to say is there's disturbance in force."

Delta's brow went up.

"I mean there's people in Feral. Silas and the Evil Queen. She's in the swamps."

Delta's eyes narrowed. "Is that all? Just two?"

"You're mostly left with stray semi-immortal types in the depths like the pixies. But yeah, the queen's out at Skull Rock where your mother had her meetings. She was living out there with Silas. I thought you'd want to know about them."

She thought to herself, "We already have Silas." The Queen slipped under their nose.

Things Delta was realizing as he spoke. Arthur and possibly other Merry Men were still watching over Feral even after death. It was only now she was even realizing they were going by their Sherwood names in death when they were out there on the dance floor. She had to admit she hadn't thought a whole lot about the Merry Men since they left. Out of sight out mind maybe? But now that they were here it was giving her something to think about. Too much for now. She was trying to have a party. Maybe Arthur proved to be useful in the end too, not just for entertainment.

She stared at him after he gave the information, he'd been dying to give them all night. He had no idea they already had Silas locked up. Knowing the queen was out there was still helpful. She could tell he was looking for a thanks or a good job. Instead she changed the subject.

"Could have sworn I saw you earlier in the ball room with two legs."

"Me? Nah. What's a ghost need a leg for? Nah. Nah. Not me. Prosthetic ghost legs. Ha ha." He tried to play it off. His voice got higher pitched as the sentence went on.

He wasn't thinking this through. His leg was at the bottom of the winding stair. What then?

Delta looked up at Frank, "Oh, my bad. I must have miss seen."

Frank didn’t need to scour that pretty little brain to know how good Delta was feeling, her mumbles, her inability to say his name, her quivering mess of a body was loud enough. It was impossible not to feel cocky - heh heh - with his girl reacting like this. She might not have had anything else to compare it with but damn, he knew that she was enjoying this, same as he was.

His acid girl. She was melting him into her, even after they were finished, he was all over her, hands and fingers stroking the back, the wings, her upper thighs, feeling his sterile seed slipping out and pushing it back in so that they were one before they finally started to get dressed once more.

He spread the blood on her wings, before - in an almost overly cute motion - he drew a small heart on her skin with her own blood. “Art on art,” He admired his own little piece on her. She had made so many marks on him, so permanent - but he wouldn’t want to affect her perfect skin. Each scar, each freckle, each cut from the wings escaping - were exactly as it should be.

A smirk was across his face, his large eyes lingering on hers as he ‘lurched’ over her, forked tongue escaping his lips to lick at them as she bit on him so deliciously. “We both did,” He agreed. There was tension that he had needed to work off, as there always was when there was a lot of people in their space. He wouldn’t feel completely comfortable until things were as they were supposed to be. But this was a good amount of relief.

He ripped at her clothing carefully for her. Not with brute strength but with calculated rips, making it look as if it was intentional, and then the wings had all the space that they needed to come out, to spread the way that they should be. These beautiful goddamn wings, that he stroked and admired now, even while knowing there was an audience. A world of their own, acting like no one could see, no one could interrupt.

He’d been too in the zone to really tune into Arthur’s thoughts during his fuck session. He was inside of the most perfect girl alive, what kind of fool would he be if he spent that time figuring out what some bald-headed little voyeur was thinking? But now that the post-sexual haze was dissipating, he could tune on in.

And it was hilarious.

‘Not only dreaming. He’s one bit of friction away from cumming his pants,’ Frank replied to Delta, a smirk on his face as he looked in that direction as well. He could feel through Arthur that he hadn’t actually seen anything inappropriate on Delta, but oh, he caught that his dick had been sighted. Good. That just made it all the more funny.

He ran his fingers through Delta’s curls, adjusting them so they were less messy, and then bent low to kiss the top of her head. And then loud enough to let Arthur hear - “Shall we return to our guests?”

In the hopes that he would scramble around and try to get himself together. Shuffle down the stairs on his ass to try to get his other fake leg or something. There was some joy in the aardvark’s misery. But he couldn’t help letting out a chuckle, an outward expression of how much he was enjoying making the few hours that Arthur was here into something so … diabolical horny.

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Under The Mistletoe ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) and Josh spend Christmas Eve at a party, and end it with a night from their dreams.

Warning: Lots of flirting & light smut (mostly teasing)!

A/N: merry belated christmas to all who celebrate. i hope everyone had / is having a safe and happy holiday season. this one-shot is christmas themed, so please ignore how late it’s coming out. life kinda unexpectedly got in the way around the holidays. anywho, that’s all. i hope you guys enjoy this one! 🎄♥️

—————————————————————————————————

The faint sound of Chris Brown's "This Christmas" echoes through my bathroom as I apply one last layer of lip gloss in the mirror.

Tonight, for Christmas Eve, I was invited to a house party by my boyfriend Joshua.

It's taking place at his twin brother and sister in law's place down in Orlando.

I'm usually not the party type, but I'm super excited.

Reason being, Josh has been on the road with his job over at WWE a little extra lately, since they're doing a bunch of live shows as well as televised tapings.

In other words, if I didn't see him enough before the holidays, that man is an absolute ghost now.

I put my makeup away and fluff out my hair, making sure I'm satisfied with it, before leaving the bathroom to get dressed.

When picking out my outfit last night, I decided to go with something elegant yet super chic and flattering.

After all, I'm gonna be pulling up with the finest man in the world so I gotta look good!

I step into a red lace lingerie set, followed by a strapless, long sleeved, sheer cotton body-con red dress.

Just as I'm finishing up spraying some perfume, my doorbell rings.

I check myself in the mirror once more before heading down.

I take a deep breath and open the front door to a gorgeous sight: my man dressed in all black, alongside his gold chain and silver jewelry on his wrist and ears.

"Damn ma," he mutters, scanning my body and sexily licking his lips. "You look good as hell."

I playfully roll my eyes, my arms folded over my chest and body leaned against the doorframe.

"Hello to you too Joshua," I tease, smirking.

He chuckles and steps inside, sliding his hands across my waist. "My bad, mama. You caught me off guard in this dress though forreal."

"Well thank you," I reply, closing the door behind him and wrapping my arms around his neck. "You look handsome as always."

He smiles and leans in, pressing his lips to mine.

I automatically kiss back and give him a couple more pecks before pulling away and wiping my lip gloss off of his lips with my thumb.

"I missed you mama," he exclaims, sliding his hands down to my ass and giving it a tiny squeeze.

"I miss you too baby," I reply, rubbing his back. "Lemme just throw my heels on and we can head out."

I turn around and walk over to the shoe cubby near my basement door.

"What's the rush?" Josh asks, leaning against the wall. "The party don't start for another two hours."

I grab my shoes and sit on the couch, to begin putting them on.

"I told Trin I'd help her set up," I reply. "And besides, if we stay here, we both know we'll never make it in time."

He smirks and bats his eyelashes innocently. "I don't know what you mean."

I shake my head smiling, as he sits down next to me and grabs my face, attacking my cheek with kisses.

"Boy enough," I playfully scold between giggles, pushing him away.

He chuckles and smacks my ass as I get up. "Aight. But when I bring you back here later, that ass is mine."

"Yeah yeah," I brush him off, making a shooing motion with my hand. "Whatever you say."

He smirks and, hand in hand, we walk out and to his car.

"After you my lady," he coos, opening the passenger door and holding out his hand.

I smile and take it, intertwining our fingers.

"Thank you lovebug," I reply, kissing his cheek and stepping in.

He kisses my hand before letting it go and shutting my door.

Eventually, he hops in and we're off.

The car ride is filled with small talk, laughs, thigh rubs, and stolen kisses.

I missed this so much.

—————————————————————————————————

Hand in hand, Josh and I walk up the steps to the front door and ring the doorbell.

Trin and Jon's dogs, Marley and Tank, automatically start barking from behind the door.

"Giiiii!" Trin squeals, wrapping me into a tight hug once she opens the door.

I giggle and hug back, as she rocks us back and forth.

"Hi Trin!" I reply excitedly, once we pull away. "You look amazing."

"Me?!" she shrieks, holding her hand on her chest and scanning my body up and down. "Bitch, look at you! Look at this body!"

She hypes me up, snapping and getting low in front of me.

I flick my hair back sassily and we share a laugh.

"Hey hey," Josh butts in. "She's mine, sis. Get in line."

"Oh shut up!" Trin replies, playfully whacking him and wrapping me into another hug.

I laugh, hugging back and stick my tongue out at my man.

He glares in response, smirking.

After greeting Josh with a hug as well, she invites us in and shuts the door.

"Jurdy!" she calls, standing by the banister. "Hurry your ass up! Jey and Gi are here!"

"I'll get him," Josh announces, giving me a quick kiss and running upstairs.

I chuckle and head over to the island, where there's a butt load of decorations.

"You two are so cute," Trin coos, joining me and separating all the decor.

I lightly blush, smiling. "Thanks, sis. I couldn't be any more happy."

She sticks out her bottom lip. "It shows, girl. You're absolutely glowing!"

"No pun intended," she adds, nudging me.

We share a laugh and quick hug before getting started.

"You can start on the table," she orders, opening up a package of red and green helium balloons that spell out "MERRY CHRISTMAS". 

I give her a thumbs up, head over to the dining table, and immediately get to work.

I pick out some cute plates, wine glasses, and utensils from her kitchen, as well as some beautiful candle holders and trees that smell of fresh pine.

About ten minutes later, the entire living area is complete and filled to the brim with Christmas cheer.

Trin claps and squeals. "It looks amazing!"

I giggle and look around, smiling. "It really does."

She holds up both of her hands, facing me. "We did that!"

Chuckling, I accept her offer and we share double high fives.

As we're cleaning up excess wrappers, Jon and Josh appear near the stairs.

"Dang it looks nice in here," Jon compliments, looking around.

"Thanks boo," Trin says, walking over to him and kissing his cheek.

I smile and finish perfecting the table before they all join me in the kitchen.

"The table looks beautiful ma," Josh coos and kisses my temple.

"Forreal," Jon agrees, throwing an arm around me. "You did your thing, sis!"

"Aww thank you guys," I reply, smiling softly and side-hugging him.

A little while later, it's officially 6pm and guests start pouring in.

The guest list includes a bunch of family and family friends including: Jon and Josh's parents, Joe and Galina, Sefa and Almia, Dwayne and Lauren, Jade and Brandon, Bianca and Kenneth, Sarona, and more.

—————————————————————————————————

It's a couple hours into the party and, while the guys are out in the backyard having drinks and talking, us girls are in the living room gossiping.

"I'm gonna go grab a refill," I announce, getting up and grabbing my wine glass. "Anyone want anything?"

Everyone politely declines and goes back to their conversations once I walk away.

I head into the kitchen and grab an open bottle of Pinot Grigio from the counter, when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

"Hey gorgeous girl," Josh greets me, nuzzling his face into my neck.

I smile softly and turn to face him, leaning against the counter.

"Hi love," I greet back, running my fingers through his curls. "You having fun with the guys?"

"Mhm," he hums in reply. "It's real nice to have everyone reunited, you know?"

I nod smiling, and adjust his collar.

"Whatchu doin' with the girls?" he asks, stroking my sides.

I shrug, wrapping my arms back around his neck. "Not much. Just talking, that's all."

"That's good baby," he replies, removing a curl from my face. "I'm happy you're having a good time."

I smile softly and nod. "I am."

He smiles, grabs either side of my face gently, and kisses my forehead.

I blush, brushing our noses together.

While I'm looking up at him, I catch a glimpse of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

"Whatchu lookin' at b-" he stops in his tracks when he follows my eyes and looks up, a goofy smirk falling over his lips.

I giggle and hide my face in his chest.

He chuckles and taps my butt playfully. "Hey, hey. Don't get all shy on me now, girl. You know the rules."

He gently removes my head from his chest, cups my face, and pulls me in.

From the second our lips connect, butterflies are swarming in my stomach.

With every stroke, the kiss gets more and more heated.

Tongue.

Innocent touching.

The whole nine yards.

When we finally pull apart, he presses his forehead to mine, giving us both a chance to catch our breath.

"Come with me mama," he orders quietly, holding out his hand.

I nod, taking it. "Where are we going?"

He kisses my forehead and smirks. "Upstairs. Babygirl, I'm gonna give you a Christmas present you'll never forget."

My eyes go wide as he strokes my hand with his thumb. "B-but the party..."

"No one will notice we're gone ma," he reassures. All the guys are drunk off their asses anyway. Come kick it with your boy upstairs for a bit."

A soft smile appears on my face as he brings my hand to his lips and kisses it softly.

"I'll take that gorgeous smile as a yes," he continues, in between chuckles.

He leads us upstairs and into the guest bedroom.

** light smut warning! **

Once the door shuts behind us, our lips are connected once more, my back pressed up against the cool wooden surface.

The longer the kiss lasts, the more clothes come peeling off our bodies.

"So fucking beautiful," Josh coos, stroking my sides once I'm completely out of my dress.

I blush in reaction to the compliment and take control, grabbing his hand and leading us to the bed.

I order him to sit down and he does, looking up at me with those gorgeous brown eyes that I love so much.

They soon move lower onto my body as I give him a show, sexily removing my undergarments and straddling his lap.

Sliding my hands up his chest and slowly grinding against his now rock hard bulge, I lean down and connect our lips once more.

"Mmm fuck," he groans into my mouth, eventually shoving his tongue down my throat.

A few minutes later, we pull apart and switch positions.

"Lay back baby," he demands, his voice lustful and deep, just above a whisper. "It's gonna be a long night."

My breath hitches as he gently pushes me back and hovers over me, his cold chain ever so slightly caressing my breasts.

** light smut over! **

"I've missed you mama," he mutters into my neck. "Let me show you exactly how much."

And, boy, does he ever.

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[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Viktor x Jinx’s Older Sibling

Chapter 6: Legal Substances & Fighting Unfair

Summary: After the explosion and disappearance of Vi, you take your little sister across the river to Piltover. You struggle to keep the two of you afloat but manage to get Jinx to the academy. This is where she procures an internship that changes your lives.

The three of you had fallen asleep in that room. Jinx sprawled out over the couch, eventually with her mouth hanging open and snores coming out. Her hand was slapped over your face. Fingers dangerously close to your own mouth which also hang open, quieter snores coming from you.

Viktor had woken up some time ago in the chair. His back and hips ached. He stretched his arms up above his head. He reached blindly for his crutch. He hauled himself up and a series of pops sounded through the room.

He went to the small kitchenette in the room and began making coffee. When the cup began to warm his fingertips, he turned to look at the two of you.

How lucky you both were, to have one another that is. You weren’t lucky with your pasts, that much was clear. You both clearly struggled. Yet you had one another. What a small miracle.

He entered the lab and began reviewing his notes.

You groaned in your sleep. Something was brushing up against your nose. You tried to brush it away and yet it only returned.

“The fuck?” were your first words of the day as you grabbed ahold of it and yanked it away from your face.

There was a scream behind you. Then a scream from you. You were pushed forward by a force coming down from above you.

“Ow!” Jinx’s voice rang out. “What the hell was that for?”

“You’re the one who’s hand was in my face!” you retorted.

“You’re the one who decided to sleep where my hand could get in your face!” she replied.

“You’re a bitch, you know that?” you asked sarcastically as you shoved her off of you.

“Yeah! And you’re a dumbass!” she said back as she returned the shove.

The two of you sat in the floor staring each other down. Jinx’s face split into a grin. That was all it took for the two of you to start laughing.

“Are you feeling better?” you asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Hey, um, do you think we could go fight today?” she asked.

You were quiet for a moment, thinking over her question. You shrugged as you stood, “Why not?”

“Great!” she said in an excited whisper to herself. “Think Viktor and Jayce would want to come with?”

Your fingers stopped where they were combing through your hair. “You can ask them,” you settled on saying.

“Hey, Viktor, Jayce!” she called out as she shoved open the door.

You shook your head as you placed your hands on the chair in front of you. Your weight was handed over to the cushion. You untangled your legs and transferred your weight. Taking a moment to find your footing, you soon followed your sister.

“. . . like a tradition,” Jinx was saying as she sat atop the desk where Viktor sat in his chair, intently listening to her.

“Well, then, I would be honored to join you. Though, some adjustments may need to be made,” Viktor told her. “Admittedly, sleeping in a chair did not do me any favors for today.”

“Do you need me to pop your back?” Jinx asked. “I can pop your back. Oh! Or they can give you a massage? They don’t look it but they give really good massages.”

“Oh?” Viktor asked. He spun his seat revealing an amused smile. “Do they now?”

“No, I don’t,” you said firmly with a pointed look at your sister.

She raised her hands in surrender but her smile gave way to her lack of remorse.

The door swung open. Jayce walked through them with purpose in his steps. He seemed intent on wherever his destination was. He halted when he saw the three of you though. Instantly he relaxed.

“I brought breakfast,” he said as he raised a box in his hand.

The box was laid down and opened revealing round pastries. Donuts. Expensive for breakfast.

“Ooh! Thanks!” Jinx exclaimed as she reached for a pink frosted one.

“You couldn’t have chosen something more nutritious?” Viktor asked but regardless, his hand went for a brown frosted one with sprinkles.

“Hey, if it weren’t for me all you’d be having is your coffee,” Jayce said, a long, lighter brown donut in his hand. “Do you want me?”

You looked in the box. There were so many options. Some with blueberries. Others had a glaze. Some were round with a hole. Others were without and more oddly shaped. Each a different look, a different style.

“I don’t. . . I’ve never had a donut before,” you admitted.

Jinx plucked one up from the box and handed it to you. “You’ll like this one. Anyway, we’re going to the Undercity today. Wanna join us, Jayce?”

The man’s thick brow rose at its arch. “Why are we going to the Undercity?”

“Well, sometimes after. . . days like yesterday, we both want to let off some steam and there’s not really a designated place to do that here but we can go anywhere in the Undercity to do it,” Jinx said. “Also, sometimes we visit Vander’s statue. He was like a dad to me.”

You wrapped your arm around her and squeezed tightly. She let her head bump against yours.

Viktor threw a look Jayce’s way. A silent conversation was had between the two men before Jayce shrugged.

“Sure.”

“Ooooh! Can we get sweet milk?” Jinx asked as her eyes went to a stall.

“You’ve already had sugar this morning. Do you really—“

“I’ll take the consequences on my shoulders,” Viktor said.

He walked straight up to the stall. With no hesitation, he ordered four sweet milks to go. He handed the stall owner their money and accepted his change. He came back with four small cartons in his hands. One for each of you.

“Try it,” he told Jayce.

Two pairs of eyes watched him intently as he opened the carton and slowly, skeptically took a sip. It was a moment before he reacted, a small nod of approval.

“It’s good,” Jayce admitted.

“Ha! See, told you!” Jinx said, pointing directly at you. “Everybody likes sweet milk.”

“That can’t be the truth,” you argued. “I mean, I like it just fine but not everyone in the world can like sweet milk.”

“Uh-huh!” Jinx insisted.

“I’m not arguing with you.”

“Because you know I’m right!”

“No, because I know you’re wrong.”

“Oh, please, you’re just pissy because you’re wrong about something.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are! Otherwise you wouldn’t be so defensive!”

You held your hand up to Jinx as you walked past her. “You take them to our spot,” you told her. “I’ll be right back.”

“By yourself?” Viktor asked.

“I’ll be fine,” you insisted.

“I think I’ll go with you for my own peace of mind,” he said.

“Sure, fine, whatever.” Several moments of silence. You waited until you were out of earshot of Jayce. “But you won’t see anything illegal,” you said, a hidden threat in your words.

“Of course not.”

Yeah, okay, maybe he was fine. Maybe you could let yourself just enjoy his company. You let yourself relax. Although, your guard was down by no means. You were in the Undercity, after all.

You slid past people with practiced ease. You came down here more than you let Jinx.

Things in the Undercity were cheaper. At least, by Piltover means. It was easier to get the supplies you needed to live. Jinx’s academy uniforms were bought at half price. Likely because they had been stolen for free.

It didn’t take long for you to find what you were looking for. You knocked on the stall, a steady one two, one two three.

The curtain pulled back and a man with raggedy hair and wide eyes magnified by large glasses opened it.

“What are you looking for?” he asked, words so fast that they hardly seemed to be spoken fully before the next spilled from his chapped mouth.

“Got any for pain?” you asked him.

“Yes, many. How much?”

“Two?”

“That’d be forty,” he told you.

He’d upped his prices again. “Thirty.”

“Forty.”

“Thirty,” you insistent, “and I got sweet milk.”

He was silent for a moment. He let out a grunt. “Fine, thirty.”

You placed the coin and the carton on the counter between the two of you. His hands swiped it at lightning speed. He counted it, nodded to himself, and handed you a bag.

Quickly, you spun around and began the trail to your and Jinx’s “spot.”

It was a place that you’d both claimed long ago, before things went to shit. You had gone to this long abandoned building for nearly Jinx’s entire life. Before then it’d been your hideaway with your favorite uncle, not that you’d ever tell anyone you had a favorite.

At least, at that time he’d been. You weren’t so sure now.

“So, what exactly is this legal substance you’ve obtained for yourself?” Viktor asked.

You reached in the bag and pulled out a wrapped blunt. You rolled it between your fingers to check its tightness. Satisfied you stuck it between you teeth.

A loose hand slipped into a pocket and pulled out a lighter. You flicked it open and quickly ran your thumb across the wheel. With a flame in hand you were able to light the end.

You inhaled. A warmth spreading through your lungs. A different kind of pollution filling your lungs. At least, this one elevated your pain and your tension.

“My brand of over the counter medication,” you said.

Viktor made a small noise of amusement in reply.

A smoke trail lit your pathway but didn’t linger like footsteps may have.

The rest of the walk was spent without any words. It wasn’t awkward nor was it tense. It simply was. Aside from your sister, you could barely recall a time when you had an opportunity to be quiet with another without it being something tense or awkward or boring.

Late nights on a roof came to mind. Shared blankets or warm drinks. A mutual understanding that this was special.

You shook the memories away.

“Oh,” Jinx’s voice sounded as you held open the door for Viktor. She laughed, a laugh you knew to be her guilty one, “Was that you?”

“Yes, that was me,” Jayce told her, a sternness in his tone you’d yet to her but he didn’t sound mad.

“Whoops! Oh, look, they’re finally here!” Jinx said, taking the opportunity to change the subject.

“In all my glory,” you said with a small wave at your body. You followed it with a long drag. “Were you able to get the jutebox working?”

“Yeah, just needed the right stuff,” she answered.

The bag that you’d stopped to grab on your way was laid right beside the box. “Nice,” you praised. Jinx’s head shot up with a prideful smile.

“Do you want music today or nah?” The question was simply a tease, you knew the answer.

“Obviously!” she said as she ran over to the jutebox. She bumped your hip with her own, “Move over.”

You held your hands up in surrender and let her chose a song.

Viktor had sat down on a chair near the edge of the room. Jayce had pulled another close to him. They were talking. You could hear bits and pieces but found yourself not straining your ears like you often did.

Instead, blunt between your lips, you began rummaging through the bag. You felt tools and pins you deliberately avoided. There was a long, smooth barrel of a gun. Not what you were looking for though. You found the smooth leather of the belt you’d been looking for.

You pulled it out, counted the small knives in their sleeves. You buckled the belt around your waist.

You reached back into the bag. You were missing one. It took a moment but you found it.

By that time Jinx had decided on a song. It was upbeat and electric like most songs she enjoyed were.

“Alright, boys,” you said as you walked over to them. “Stay back and out of the way. I take no responsibility if you get yourselves hurt because you decided not to listen. I don’t want anyone playing referee. It’s not gonna be a fair game because the rules down here aren’t fair. You’re here to sit back, relax—“ you handed your blunt off to Viktor who took it like someone who’d never held a smoke before in his life, because he probably hadn’t—“and give us a countdown because someone likes to play around when she is tasked with doing it.”

“I do not!” Jinx protested.

“Yeah, you do and you know it.”

She stuck her tongue out at you. Her gun in her hand and bombs attached to her belt.

You took your place parallel to her.

“Whenever you’re ready boys.”

Jayce and Viktor looked at each other. Viktor gestured to Jayce.

“You have better projection,” he said.

Jayce shot him an expression which consisted of a lowered brow and squinted eye. Regardless, he began a count.

“3. . .”

Jinx bopped to the beat of the music.

“2. . .”

You reached for your knives.

“1. . .”

Jinx cocked her gun upward with a smile.

“Begin!”

The echoing sound of a bullet being fired bounced through the room. You skidded down to the floor as you threw a knife.

Jinx’s body tilted to the left and avoided it. Another shot as you stood and raced towards her. A cling of metal as a knife fell to the ground.

A gun in one hand as a bomb was grabbed in the other. You threw another knife her way. Her shot went astray as she dodged it. She used her teeth to pull the pin from her bomb and tossed it your way.

The momentum of your foot kicked it away towards your seated guests. It exploded in a blue, chalky puff. Both men coughed as it dissipated.

You threw one final knife. Jinx tossed down her gun. Two bombs in her hands. She pulled the pins with her teeth once again. One bomb collided with the knife and caused them both to fall astray. The other clasped onto your shoulder.

Your hand wrapped around Jinx’s shirt neckline. She was jerked closer to you. The bomb went off. Your head reared back. Then collided with hers.

“Hardhead!” she yelled at you through a coughing fit.

She managed to pull away as your own lungs hacked up. Her hand went to her head.

“That’s gonna bruise!” she whined.

Her leg reared back and she played dirty. She aimed for your injured leg as she kicked.

You collapsed on the ground. A smile on your face. You wrapped your leg around her ankle and forced her down.

She tried to make a grab for you. You rolled out of the way. You used her moment of confusion to stand.

Her braids whipped as she spun her head around. You moved to knee her. A grunt escaped her mouth but in spite, she wrapped her arms around your leg and held on.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, completely befuddled.

She didn’t answer with words. Instead her nails clawed into your hip. She tried to stand but it was proven difficult as you used your own hands to push her face away. You couldn’t help but laugh.

She rolled over herself and sprung up to her feet. A smile was on her face.

She darted forward and reached. She was trying to grab. You darted down and stole her tactic. You grabbed one of her braids and pulled.

Her hands went to her scalp as she turned on instinct away from you before she remembered herself. She spun around and a fist went your stomach.

On the other side of the room, Jayce and Viktor watched with two very different expressions. Jayce’s was curled up in confusion. Viktor’s was filled with amusement.

The ashes built up in the blunt youd given Viktor. He shook them away. Then, out of nothing but pure curiosity, he brought it to his lips and inhaled. The coughing fit was immediate.

Jayce patted his back. “Why did you do that?” he asked.

“It’s over the counter medicine,” he said with a smile.

Jayce shook his head.

He tried again with just a bit more success. Although, the cough still came.

In front of him, the two of you still fought. It was far less dignified now than when it had started out. Less like two people who respected each other and more like cats fighting for scraps.

Jinx’s hands pushed your face away. You pulled her braids again. With the sharp, upright movement, her head pounded into yours.

You were able to grab both her wrists and push her to the ground.

“I would’ve won if you weren’t so hardheaded!” she yelled, with her face smooshed against concrete.

“Yeah, yeah, uh-huh.”

You got off of her and walked towards the boys.

“Can we go again?” she asked.

“Give me a minute,” you said.

You extended your hand to Viktor. He gave you what was left of the blunt. You slide down beside him and finished it off.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Merry Axemas

Oh Dino! Oh Dino! or should I say Great Demon Emperor? you messed up because I Love when you do zombie stories, and you do you ridiculous high energy jokey narration I love you for (platonically like a brother) and Eunbi my my this is quite the christmas gift. Yeah you're making this a series. Go on now shoo. Start cooking. I look forward to the first chapter.

But it was only meant to be a wrap up... Sigh...Damn it… I guess it’s a series now.

A new perspective

Sakura grabbed her arm. “Chowon, we have to go!”

“I’m not leaving him!” she snarled, her voice raw with emotion.

The group hesitated, torn between their loyalty to Chowon and their survival instincts. Finally, Leo spoke, his voice heavy with regret. “We don’t have a choice. He wouldn’t want us to die here.”

The group began to retreat, dragging Chowon with them. She fought them every step of the way, but eventually, they relented leaving her, her eyes never leaving the direction Dinozen had been taken.

An hour later, Chowon sat alone by the charred remains of a tree, her knees pulled to her chest. Her mind raced, torn between worry for Dinozen and guilt for letting the group leave without her. She knew they would need a slayer but she expected Dinozen to come back any moment, and then they would go and tell off their group.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her tense, her hand instinctively going to her knife. A figure emerged from the shadows—a tall man with dark skin and a calm, almost disarming smile.

The person approaching her is me… yeah that's me your new and improved narrator. I approached the young woman who sat frozen, which was surprising to me to see someone so alone, but I guess I couldn't say much either because I was also very much alone. Her eyes were level with me though as she pulled her knife. I raised my hands above my head and replied, "Not a zombie. Just a traveler," the young lady looked at me suspiciously. She looked me over for any signs of infection or malice, but all she found was my goofball smile. But to her credit, she didn't let her guard down,

"Who are you?"

“Daihouzan,” I responded. The young lady eyed me suspiciously before asking what I was doing?

“Um, scavenging. If you can’t tell we are in the middle of the awesomepocalypse pocalypse pocalypse,” I responded while adding the echo for dramatic effect. The young woman scowled at me, and I replied “Woo tough crowd,”

“Do you think this is a game?” She growled angrily

“Uh, kinda,” I replied. “At least that’s how I’m treating it so I don’t get PTSD,” I added. The young lady eyed me confused I shrugged as I sat next to her, "So what seems to be the problem?"

"My friend is gone," she said, sadly, and I listened to her tell her story.

I felt bad because I had seen firsthand how people treated slayers and it wasn't the kindest always. Especially if they went into a rage, but I had been around enough slayers at this point to see them as people.

"Well, how about this we wait for your boyfriend (chowon growled at me saying that) oh okay mate, and if he's not here in the next 8 hours we go looking for him," I suggested. The young lady scowled and then said

"Okay, but you better not hold me down,"

I laughed and said, "Darling I am not just a monster hunter I am the monster hunter in these parts. I have seen more zombies than you have probably slain. I am a legend out here," the young lady finally laughed and said,

"If you are so much of a legend how come I don't know you," I clasped my hands together and said,

"you know what fair," before we began our wait.

At the fourth hour, hunger gnawed at me, and I decided to take a break from our quiet vigil. I headed into the safehouse and rummaged through what little remained. Among the scraps, I found instant ramen and a packet of vanilla tea. Not exactly gourmet, but in times like these, it was practically a feast. I prepared enough for both of us, though the young woman—still nameless to me—hadn’t said much the entire night.

When I returned, she sat by the same charred tree, her gaze fixed on the horizon as if willing something—or someone—to appear. I handed her the food, and though she accepted it, her movements were slow, her expression distant. She ate dourly, her eyes never meeting mine.

I settled beside her, eating in silence for a while. But something about her tugged at the edges of my memory, like a song you can’t quite place.

“Hey,” I started hesitantly, breaking the stillness. “What did you do before the outbreak?”

She paused mid-bite, her brow furrowing as though the question had stirred something painful. “I was a singer,” she said simply. “In a K-pop group.”

The pieces fell into place like a lightning strike. “Wait… are you Han Chowon? From Lightsum?” I blurted, the name tumbling out before I could stop myself.

Her head turned sharply toward me, and for a moment, her guarded demeanor cracked. Then, reluctantly, she nodded.

“No way,” I breathed, the realization hitting me like a truck. “Holy crap. I saw you guys when you did your show in LA! You were amazing. Seriously, I still remember how electric that performance was. And wow, you’re… you’re even prettier up close, even with this whole lioness vibe you’ve got going on.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, though her expression remained cautious. Still, there was a flicker of something—maybe amusement, maybe warmth.

Beside her, I could almost feel an invisible presence, a low purr of approval from that "lioness" persona she seemed to carry. Even though I couldn’t explain it, I knew she had accepted my presence, at least for now.

She shifted uncomfortably, her voice quieter as she asked, “So… what’s your pre-outbreak story?”

I leaned back against the tree, letting out a small chuckle. “Nothing nearly as glamorous as yours,” I said. “I worked in records and did stunt work for movies. You know, falling off buildings, crashing cars, setting myself on fire. The usual.”

Chowon raised an eyebrow, her skepticism briefly overtaking her guardedness. “Stuntman, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, a little sheepish. “I ran with my mentor, Jacob, who’s actually a Slayer now. In the early days of the outbreak, he took me under his wing and taught me everything I needed to survive. He’s the reason I’m still alive, really.”

There was a faint spark of interest in her eyes now, though it was still wrapped in layers of suspicion and exhaustion. “Where’s Jacob now?” she asked.

“Off doing Slayer things, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “Haven’t seen him in a while. But you know, he always said surviving wasn’t just about staying alive—it was about finding something worth protecting. Sounds cheesy, I know, but it stuck with me.”

Chowon’s gaze drifted again toward the horizon, her hands tightening slightly around the cup of vanilla tea. “Something worth protecting…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the silence between us felt less like a void and more like a shared understanding. Two people, broken in different ways, trying to find meaning in a world that had lost its own.

“Well,” I said, breaking the spell gently, “if your lioness persona approves, maybe we’ll survive this crazy apocalypse together.”

She didn’t laugh, but the corner of her mouth twitched—just enough to count as a win.

At the sixth hour, I knew it was time to stop waiting and start acting. Dinozen wouldn’t just rescue himself, and the longer we stayed idle, the more likely something terrible had already happened. I went to work, methodically preparing for the search. Weapons, check. Supplies—water, rations, the usual—check. I double-checked the straps on my shield, making sure everything was secure.

As I was finishing up, a low, guttural noise broke through the stillness. My head snapped up, ears straining to pinpoint the source. It was coming from the yard. Grunting, shuffling, and a growl that sent a chill down my spine.

I grabbed my shield and sword, Wicked Edge, and bolted outside. What I saw froze me in place for a split second. Chowon was locked in a brutal struggle with a bruiser zombie—a hulking, grotesque beast easily twice her size, its mottled skin stretched tight over grotesque muscles. It swung its massive arm at her, and she barely dodged, her knife looking pitifully inadequate against its bulk.

Without hesitation, I charged in, shield first. The impact of my rush slammed into the bruiser with a bone-crunching thud, sending it staggering back. Its neck twisted toward me at an impossible angle, its soulless eyes locking onto mine as it let out a guttural roar.

The bruiser charged, its enormous frame bearing down like a runaway train. I raised my shield just in time, absorbing the impact with a deafening clang that reverberated up my arm.

Before it could recover, I moved with practiced precision. With a single, powerful swing, I sliced through the bruiser’s midsection, cutting it clean in half. Blackened, viscous ichor spilled onto the ground as the top half of its body collapsed in a grotesque heap.

Breathing heavily, I turned to Chowon, who stood frozen, her knife still clutched in her hand. Her eyes were wide, not in fear but in surprise, maybe even awe.

“Sword Saint of Invincibility,” I said, pointing a thumb at myself with a grin. Chowon’s expression shifted, her guarded demeanor melting just slightly as a flicker of something else—approval, maybe—crossed her face. I could almost feel her inner lioness purring at the display of force.

Her gaze drifted to Wicked Edge, taking in its jagged, unnatural design. “What is that?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Oh, this?” I said, lifting the weapon for her to see. “It’s something I put together. Made it out of zombie parts and bone. I call it Wicked Edge.”

Chowon’s eyes lingered on the blade, her interest unmistakable. “You made it yourself?”

“Yup,” I said, sheathing the weapon with a flourish. “Every Slayer needs a signature weapon, right? Figured I’d put all those horror movie props and stuntman skills to good use.”

Her lips quirked upward, just a little. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” I feigned offense, placing a hand over my heart. “I just saved your life with that ‘not bad’ weapon!”

She let out a soft, amused huff, though her lioness aura still clung to her like a second skin. “Thanks,” she said, her tone quieter but sincere.

“No problem,” I replied, giving her a grin. “Now, you ready to help me find Dinozen? We’ve got work to do.”

She nodded, determination hardening her features. And for the first time, I felt like we weren’t just two strangers thrown together by circumstance. We were a team. Or at least, we were getting there. Chowon nodded as she got up and she followed me. the two of us travel in the direction that she saw Dinozen taken in.

The road stretched long and empty ahead of us, the only sound was the crunch of gravel beneath our boots. Chowon was walking slightly behind me, her gaze lingering on the weapons strapped across my back and hanging from my belt. I could feel her eyes moving between them—curiosity and perhaps judgment in her steady gaze.

I smirked to myself. “You can just ask, you know.”

Chowon stiffened slightly, caught in the act. “Ask what?”

“About my weapons. I saw you eying them,” I said, slowing my pace to walk beside her.

She glanced at me, her expression guarded. “They’re… unusual. You make all these yourself?”

“Every single one,” I replied, pride evident in my voice. I reached over my shoulder and unslung the massive axe strapped to my back. The blade gleamed with an icy sheen, faint frost forming along its edge. “This here is Leviathan. Inspired by God of War, if you’ve played it.”

Her eyes narrowed, clearly unimpressed by the game reference, but her inner lioness stirred as she studied the weapon itself.

“It’s made from the bones and claws of a glacial bruiser,” I continued, twirling it effortlessly before planting it into the dirt. “The frost effect comes from glands I harvested from its throat. Hits like a truck and freezes anything it cuts.”

Chowon stepped closer, running a hand lightly along the blade’s edge. Her lips twitched in what might’ve been approval. “You made this from scratch?”

“Yup. Takes a while, but hey, it’s worth it when it can save your life.”

I put Leviathan back and pulled two short swords from my waist, their handles connected by chains that clinked softly as I moved. “These are the Blades of Chaos. Another shoutout to God of War—you’re sensing a theme here, right?”

The chains rattled as I spun the blades in a smooth, almost hypnotic motion, the tips glowing faintly with a fiery red hue.

“They’re made from a pair of burning runners I took down. I forged their ribcages into the blades and kept their internal heat sacs for the fire effects. They’re not as strong as some of my other weapons, but they’re fast, and the chains make them versatile. Good for keeping zombies at bay.”

Chowon tilted her head, watching me demonstrate a few moves with them. Her inner lioness practically purred in approval. “Resourceful,” she admitted.

I grinned, holstering the blades. “That’s one way to put it. Now, this beauty…” I unslung Wicked Edge, my personal favorite. A bone sword and shield combo, both jagged and intimidating. “This one’s my bread and butter. The sword is made from the femur of a bony behemoth, and the shield is its skull. Got ambushed by one a while back—it didn’t walk away.”

Chowon’s eyes flicked to the shield, noting the jagged edges of the skull and the faint traces of dried blood etched into the bone. “Looks… brutal.”

“It is,” I replied with a wink. “But also durable. The shield’s saved my life more times than I can count, and the sword’s sharp enough to slice through even armored zombies. Plus, there’s something poetic about using the undead’s own body against them.”

Chowon gave a small nod, clearly impressed despite herself. Her lioness let out a low growl of approval in the back of her mind, and I could sense her warming up to me—if only slightly.

“And last but not least…” I reached for the spear strapped to my back. “ Gae Bolg. Another mythology-based weapon. But this one’s got a modern twist.”

I held the spear out for her to see. Its sleek, polished shaft was lined with intricate carvings, and the tip gleamed with a metallic sheen. “Made from the spine of a bone mapper and the claws of a butcher. The real kicker? It can use rifle ammo and project shrapnel at lethal velocity .”

“Like a rifle?” she repeated, her eyebrows raising in surprise.

I tapped a small trigger mechanism hidden near the grip. “Yeah, this baby can fire off rifle rounds. The zombie bone acts as a natural accelerant, and I’ve got the mechanism rigged to launch projectiles with minimal recoil. Perfect for both long-distance video calls and the more intimate dinner dates I can find myself in.”

Chowon’s hand brushed the shaft, her lioness practically purring at the craftsmanship. “You made all these from nothing but zombie parts?”

“Zombie parts, scavenged scrap, and a little ingenuity,” I replied. “When the world’s gone to hell, you work with what you’ve got.”

Her gaze lingered on the spear before shifting to me. “Impressive. I can see why you’ve survived this long.”

“High praise coming from you,” I teased, slinging Gae bolg back onto my back.

She smirked slightly, the edges of her guarded expression softening. “Don’t let it go to your head, Sword Saint.”

“Oh, it’s already there, I saved a slayer there’s no greater achievement,” I said with a grin, resuming our walk.

As we continued down the road, I noticed her glancing at me more often. Her lioness seemed to hum with approval, as though silently acknowledging me as someone worth her attention. It made traveling with her much easier as she opened up a bit more to me.

We found the safe house just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world into shadows. It was a squat, half-collapsed building, the windows boarded up and a flickering lantern glowing faintly inside. Chowon had been quiet for the past half-hour, her lioness seemingly tense, as if sensing something.

I tightened my grip on Gae Bolg as we approached. “Huh looks promising right?”

Chowon nodded, her expression unreadable. She pushed the door open without waiting for me, her usual cautious demeanor replaced by something raw and urgent. I followed close behind, the weight of the moment settling over us both.

Inside, the air was stale and musty, the faint scent of old wood and dried blood lingering. A figure sat slumped at the far end of the room, near the glow of the lantern. He was hunched over, staring at his hands as if they held some great mystery.

Chowon’s breath hitched as she stepped forward. “Dino…”

He looked up, his face partially obscured by shadow. For a moment, I thought he recognized her. But then, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Do I… know you?” he asked, his voice uncertain, like someone trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.

“Oh goody,” I said sarcastically as my mind made the logic jump.

Chowon froze, her lioness recoiling in shock. “What do you mean? It’s me, Chowon. You—” She stopped herself, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “It’s me,” she repeated, softer this time.

Dinozen shook his head, wincing as he rubbed his temples. “I… I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything before waking up here.”

Chowon turned to me, desperation flickering in her eyes. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Looks like short-term amnesia,” I said, kneeling beside him to get a closer look. His pupils were dilated, and he flinched when I touched his shoulder. “Probably trauma from whatever that fire-breathing bruiser did to him. Could’ve been physical or just the stress. Either way, memory loss isn’t uncommon in situations like this.”

Chowon dropped to her knees in front of Dinozen, her hands hovering as if she wanted to grab him but was afraid he might pull away. “Dino, it’s me. I’m your partner your equal. We’ve been through everything together. You have to remember.”

He stared at her, his face conflicted. “I… I’m sorry. I want to, but… I can’t. It’s like there’s this fog in my head, and I can’t see through it.” I could see something underneath the surface of his mind stirring but it was being blocked. Probably a concussion.

Her lioness growled softly, a sound Dinozen and I could sense, and I watched as Chowon swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay calm. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. I’ll help you remember.”

Dinozen’s gaze softened slightly at her tone, but there was still no spark of recognition.

I stepped back, giving them space. “He might need time,” I said, leaning against the wall. “And rest. This safe house seems secure enough for the night.”

Chowon nodded, though her focus never left Dinozen. “We’re not leaving him.”

“… do I look like an idiot?” I said dumbfounded. Chowon didn’t appreciate my tone and I quantified with one muck lighter, “Wasn’t planning on it,” I replied.

As the minutes passed, I set up camp near the entrance, keeping an eye on the room. Chowon stayed close to Dinozen, speaking to him in hushed tones, trying to jog his memory with stories and little details about their time together.

I couldn’t hear all of it, but I caught bits and pieces: how they met, the fights they survived, the way he always stood between her and danger. Dinozen listened intently, though the frustration in his eyes grew with each story he couldn’t recall.

After a while, he looked at her and said, “I’m sorry. I wish I could remember. You seem… important.”

Chowon’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, she looked utterly defeated. But then her lioness stirred again, resolute. She reached out, finally taking his hand in hers.

“You’ll remember,” she said firmly. “And until you do, I’ll remind you every single day if I have to.”

Her determination was something to behold. Even at this moment, with the man she clearly cared about staring at her like a stranger, she refused to give up.

I leaned back, arms crossed, and muttered to myself, “Damn, you’re one hell of a woman, Chowon.”

Her lioness let out a low growl of agreement, and I couldn’t help but grin. We got ready for the night and all took corners to sleep. Chowon stayed with Dinozen. As we were getting ready to sleep the whole building fell quiet.

The room was silent except for the occasional creak of the safehouse settling. Dinozen sat across from Chowon, his brows furrowed as he tried to process the bits of his past she’d shared. Chowon stayed close, her hand still resting over his, refusing to let the distance between them widen further.

Then, a crackle broke the quiet.

I turned sharply toward the source of the noise—my comm radio. I grabbed it from my pack, adjusting the dial until a voice came through, muffled but audible.

“…Any survivors in Zone Twelve, this is CDC. We’ve secured a secondary evacuation route. Repeat: there is a secondary evacuation route heading southbound from Sector Echo-Five. Extraction is available at dawn. Ensure any Slayers are accounted for to assist with transport security.”

Chowon’s head snapped toward me, her eyes wide. “Evacuation route?”

Dinozen perked up too, though he still looked a little dazed. “They’re still running evacuations?”

“Looks like it,” I said, keeping my tone neutral but hopeful. “Echo-Five is only a day’s travel from here if we’re fast. We could make it before dawn.”

Chowon hesitated, glancing back at Dinozen. “You think we should go?”

I gave her a long look, weighing my words carefully. “This isn’t just about us. It’s about helping the people out there who still need it. The CDC is trusting Slayers to protect the convoy.” I gestured to Dinozen. “He’s a Slayer, even if his memories are fuzzy. And you’re no slouch yourself.”

Dinozen straightened slightly as if reminded of a part of himself he hadn’t lost. “If we can help people… we should go.”

Chowon frowned, her lioness growling softly in disagreement. “But you’re not at full strength. What if something happens?”

I stepped in, my tone light but firm. “That’s what I’m here for. Between the three of us, we’ve got a better chance than most. And hey, worst-case scenario, I’ll just make another weapon out of whatever tries to kill us.”

Chowon shot me a glare, but the tension in her shoulders eased a little.

“Fine,” she said, relenting. She turned back to Dinozen, her expression softening. “But if you start feeling worse, you tell me. No playing hero.”

Dinozen nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll try to remember that.”

I clapped my hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, then! We’ve got a plan. Get some rest now, because once we leave, it’s full speed ahead. Ready break” I said as we finished our makeshift huddle.

The three of us began packing up in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. For Dinozen, it was likely the struggle to piece together his fragmented memories. For Chowon, it was the battle between her protective instincts and her trust in him. And for me?

Well, I couldn’t help but feel like the universe had put me in the right place at the right time. These two were something special, and if anyone could make it through this mess, it was them.

I glanced at Wicked Edge, already secured on my back, and muttered under my breath, “Looks like I’m in for another adventure.”

As we packed up, Chowon broke the silence. “There’s something you should know,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with an edge of defiance.

Dinozen and I both turned to her, curious. She tightened the straps on her pack and squared her shoulders, her lioness flickering in her gaze.

“I’m a Slayer too,” she said simply.

Dinozen blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You… you’re a Slayer?”

I raised an eyebrow, more intrigued than shocked. “Huh. Explains the whole lioness aura thing. But why didn’t you say anything before?”

She shot me a look. “It’s not exactly the kind of thing you just tell people. Slayers don’t have the best reputation, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Dinozen rubbed the back of his neck, looking down. “I guess that makes sense. People… don’t trust us.”

Chowon softened at his tone, stepping closer. “That’s exactly why I didn’t say anything. But I’m done hiding. You’re not the only one who’s had to deal with the stigma. I’ve been fighting just as hard to prove I’m more than the monster people see.”

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a small grin tugging at my lips. “Well, well, the lioness reveals her claws. Makes sense, though—you’ve got the same fire in your eyes as he does.”

Chowon smirked faintly, though her gaze was still on Dinozen. “I became a Slayer later, after the outbreak. It wasn’t something I chose, but it happened. And it doesn’t make me any less human.”

Dinozen looked up at her, a flicker of admiration in his expression. “You’re… incredible,” he said quietly.

She rolled her eyes but smiled, the tension in her posture easing. “Save the flattery. We’ve got a mission to focus on.”

I pushed off the wall, clapping my hands once. “Alright, now that we’ve got that out in the open, let’s move. Two Slayers and one Monster Hunter? I’d say we’ve got this covered.”

Chowon gave a small laugh and shook her head. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

With that, we finished packing and prepared to head out, the weight of the world still heavy on our shoulders but lightened slightly by the truth now shared among us. For the first time, it felt like we were stepping forward as equals, ready to face whatever came next—together. After a good night’s rest full of pleasant dreams we got up early and headed off. While the slayers were clearly outpacing me I did keep up to the best of my ability. It was just hard competition when you’re competing against superhumans.

As we moved closer to the evacuation point, I noticed Dinozen’s stride slow. His eyes, glowing faintly with that predatory intensity I’d come to recognize, darted toward me, lingering on my leg and foot. Chowon must’ve picked up on it too because she stopped walking, her gaze sharp and focused as she studied me.

“You’re limping,” Dinozen said, his voice quieter now but laced with something deeper.

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It’s nothing. Just another day in paradise.”

Chowon tilted her head, her lioness instincts practically visible in her gaze as she noticed the scars running across my arms and neck. The jagged bite marks, the claw slashes, even the more recent wounds I hadn’t had the chance to properly clean up.

“You’ve been bitten,” she said, her tone low and edged with suspicion.

Dinozen’s eyes narrowed as his predator side came closer to the surface, studying me with that same primal scrutiny. “And clawed,” he added, his voice carrying an undertone of disbelief. “Those aren’t old scars either.”

“And stabbed, and bled on, and puked on…the list goes on and on really,” I said, Chowon and Dinozen didn’t appreciate the humor and brought their weapons to me.

I sighed, rolling my shoulders as if to shake off the weight of their stares. “Alright, alright. Look, I know how it looks, but trust me—it’s not what you think.”

Dinozen stepped closer, his golden eyes narrowing further. His predator was fully awake now, assessing me like I was an enigma it couldn’t quite solve. “You’re not a Slayer, then what are you?”

I chuckled. “Nope. Not a Slayer. Not superhuman. Just your average, everyday guy.”

Chowon’s lioness flickered in her gaze as she folded her arms. “Explain. Now.”

I stopped walking and faced them both, raising my hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Truth is, I can’t turn into a zombie.”

Chowon’s lioness tensed, clearly unsettled. “What do you mean, you can’t turn?”

“It’s genetic,” I explained, letting the words come slowly so they’d sink in. “I was born without the gene that makes a person able to turn. Zombies can bite me, claw me, hell, even try to gnaw my arm off, but I won’t turn. Doesn’t matter how bad it gets…well as long as they don’t eat me. I haven’t found anyone who can come back from that,”

Dinozen’s predator flared again, his eyes locking onto me with newfound interest. I could feel it—the instinctual, primal part of him sizing me up, testing whether I was worth respecting or dismissing.

“You’re immune,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “That’s… rare.”

“Yup,” I replied, popping the ‘p’ for effect. “Not a Slayer, just a guy who lucked out in the genetic lottery. Lucky me, huh? Or maybe it’s bad luck as I’d probably be dead now and not have to worry about” I gestured to the world around us, “all of this,”

Chowon’s lioness narrowed its gaze, her body tense as she processed this. “If you’re immune, why are you still out here? You could’ve stayed somewhere safe.”

I let out a hollow laugh, the kind that barely hid the exhaustion beneath it. “Safe? Well to be honest I thought more of the world was gonna fall so I never saw a reason to leave the Dead States of America. Besides, if I can’t turn, that means I’m better off out here helping people who can’t say the same. Someone’s gotta do it. Not every group can have slayers you know,”

Dinozen’s predator seemed to settle then, its gaze shifting from suspicion to something closer to approval. It was subtle—the way his posture relaxed, the faint nod he gave—but I caught it.

“You put yourself in danger for other people,” Dinozen said, his voice steady but carrying that predatory respect.

“Yeah, well,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck. “Someone’s gotta be the monster hunter. Might as well be me.”

Chowon’s lioness seemed to relax too, though it wasn’t entirely at ease. She nodded slowly, her gaze softening as she spoke. “You’re braver than I thought.”

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still gonna make fun of you every chance I get.”

Dinozen’s predator lingered for a moment longer, then seemed to settle back into him. When he spoke again, it was with a faint smile. “You’re not bad, Daihouzan. Not bad at all.”

We started walking again, the tension between us replaced by a quiet understanding. Dinozen’s predator had found something it could respect, and Chowon’s lioness seemed to begrudgingly agree. For the first time, I felt like we were on even footing—a team, not just people thrown together by circumstance.

As the evacuation point came into view, I glanced at the two Slayers beside me. An odd trio, sure, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Well, maybe for a warm bed and a hot meal, but that’s beside the point.

We arrived at the rendezvous point earlier than expected, which was just fine by me. Keeping up with Slayers was exhausting. They had boundless energy, endless chatter, and a knack for making everything a spectacle. Meanwhile, I preferred my energy reserved for battles, not theatrics. As we waited in the eerie quiet, the sound of a struggle floated in from the east.

I sighed heavily. “Here we go again.”

Chowon and Dinozen were already moving toward the noise, their senses honed to detect danger like predators ready to strike.

“Wait!” I called, rising reluctantly to my feet. They stopped, looking back at me impatiently.

“They’re coming this way. Don’t waste your energy running over there. You’ll just tire yourselves out.”

Dinozen grunted in acknowledgment, while Chowon hesitated before nodding. They both stayed put, their bodies tense and ready for the inevitable. The sound grew louder—a combination of growls, shouting, and the distinct rumble of something large and enraged.

When the first figure burst through the treeline, it was exactly what I expected: a grotesque mutator zombie, its body twisted and bulging with muscle, its movements erratic yet disturbingly fast. Behind it, a group of survivors—no, Slayers—struggled to keep it at bay.

The mutator’s beady eyes locked onto me, and it let out a deep, guttural growl, its claws tearing into the earth as it stomped forward.

I groaned, rolling my neck as I stepped forward to meet it. “You dare challenge the Immortal Righteous Sword Saint of Invincibility, Daihouzan?” I bellowed dramatically, slamming my fist to my chest.

Everyone—Slayers included—stared at me like I’d grown a second head. Dinozen raised an eyebrow, while Chowon pinched the bridge of her nose.

“What?” I said, glancing back at them. “Y’all can yap too. Let me have fun. This is one of my few joys in life.”

The mutator roared again, louder this time, mocking my theatrics. I smirked and roared back, throwing in a little snarl for good measure. The beast charged, and I stepped forward, pulling the Blades of Chaos from my waist. The fiery chains glinted in the fading sunlight as I spun them, the flames licking hungrily at the air.

The fight was brief but brutal. The mutator lunged, claws swiping wildly, but it was no match for the whirlwind of flames and steel. The chains wrapped around its limbs, cutting deep, while the fire consumed its rotting flesh. With a final swing, the beast collapsed in a smoldering heap.

“Another one bites the dust,” I muttered, sheathing the blades as I bent down to scavenge. Among the remains, I found a few components for the weapon I was working on—a katana inspired by Vergil’s Yamato from Devil May Cry. I just needed an Odachi blade to complete it.

As I straightened up, the rumble of the CDC Super Train reached my ears. The massive, fortified convoy pulled into view, its sleek, armored cars a stark contrast to the chaos of the world around us. The Slayers and their group quickly boarded, and I followed, collapsing onto the floor the moment we were safely inside.

Before anyone could react, I raised a hand weakly and said, “Not turning. Just tired.”

The group relaxed, though some shot me wary glances. As the train began to move, everyone settled into the car, finding their own spaces. I drifted off briefly, but the sound of raised voices pulled me back to consciousness.

“I can’t believe you forced us to leave you!” Jihyo’s voice rang out, sharp and filled with anger.

“You left Dinozen!” Chowon fired back, her tone equally heated.

“Yeah, and we all paid the price!” A young woman with auburn hair—Nagyoung, if I remember correctly—growled next to Jihyo. “We were overrun at the next safe house with no Slayer to help us out.”

“We all got bit! Lucky for us, we were already Slayers!” Nagyoung added, her frustration spilling over.

“Hey,” I cut in, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “Can y’all save the aggro for zombies? I was trying to sleep.”

One of the men—Donny, I assumed—turned to me with a glare. “You stay out of this!” he snapped.

I scratched my head lazily and gave him a bored look. “I don’t think you’ve got the combat acumen to back that threat, bruv, but hey, take your shot.”

The tension in the car grew thicker as another man—Leo—stepped forward, his expressionless aggressive but no less serious. “And who are you, exactly?”

I sighed, stretching dramatically as I stood. “Sword Saint of Invincibility. Combat Celebrant of Victory. Lord of Joy and Apex Hunter Extraordinaire—Daihouzan.” I gestured grandly. “And I’m not intimidated by your little show. I’ve fought way too many things to be scared of recently evolved Slayers.”

The room fell silent, save for Chowon and Dinozen, whose inner predators stirred. Their gazes showed a mix of respect and amusement. The others, however, looked at me like I was insane.

“Listen,” I continued, brushing off their reactions. “If no one has anything nice to say, let’s just keep it to ourselves. All this is gonna do is lead to conflict, and I don’t want to be the one mopping up body parts.”

Reluctantly, the group settled, muttering under their breaths as they returned to their seats. I found an open spot but realized it wasn’t empty. A woman sat there, dressed in a cowgirl outfit that reminded me a little of Tifa from Final Fantasy VII.

She looked up and smiled, extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Eunbi.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Wow, you’re, like, really pretty,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

She chuckled. “Thank you. Also, good job stopping them from fighting.”

I nodded, still trying to process her presence. “Thanks.”

“You’re Daihouzan, right?” she asked, tilting her head.

I frowned. “How’d you know?”

Her grin widened. “I heard your whole introduction over there. You’re very dramatic.”

I chuckled, relaxing. “Hey, I earned the nickname. I’m gonna flaunt it.”

“Fair point,” she said with a laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. For the first time in what felt like ages, I felt something other than exhaustion—a strange, flickering sense of connection.

As the train rumbled forward, the tension in the car began to dissipate. Chowon sat quietly, but her unease was palpable. I could tell she wasn’t used to seeing her friends so confrontational—or so changed. Dinozen, ever the quiet observer, sat beside her, a steady presence as her fingers tapped nervously on her knees.

The air in the car felt thick, almost electric. Slayers always had this sort of energy, and as someone who’d been around them for far too long, I could tell something was off. Not wrong exactly, but… different.

I was just starting to nod off again when a sharp gasp snapped me awake.

Chowon was on her feet, staring at Nagyoung, who was hunched over and clutching her chest. Her auburn hair clung to her forehead as beads of sweat formed along her temples. Jihyo was next to her, holding her shoulders.

“What’s happening to her?” Chowon asked, panic creeping into her voice.

“I don’t know!” Jihyo exclaimed. “She was fine a second ago!”

Nagyoung groaned, her body trembling as her muscles seemed to ripple beneath her skin. Her fingers dug into the armrest of her seat, leaving dents in the metal.

“She’s evolving,” I said calmly, leaning back against the wall.

“What?” Chowon turned to me, wide-eyed.

“Relax. It’s normal for newly bitten Slayers,” I explained, waving a hand dismissively. “Their bodies are still figuring out what kind of apex predator they’re going to become. It’s not pretty, but it’s part of the deal.”

Before Chowon could respond, another groan echoed through the car. This time, it was Donny, Nagyoung’s boyfriend. His head was tilted back, his eyes glowing faintly as veins pulsed along his neck. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and his nails had started to darken into sharp, claw-like tips.

“Okay, this is getting weird,” Dinozen muttered, his gaze flicking between the two.

The train car felt like it was vibrating on a different frequency now. Leo let out a grunt, doubling over as his arms flexed involuntarily. Beside him, Sakura steadied him, her expression calm despite the fact that her own transformation was starting—her pupils narrowing into slits and her movements becoming unnaturally graceful.

Jihyo winced as her girlfriend, Venus, clutched her arm, her skin shimmering faintly as if the light was refracting off it. Even Mikey and Chaehyun weren’t spared—Mikey’s hair seemed to darken unnaturally, and Chaehyun’s normally delicate features hardened, her nails digging into the fabric of her seat.

“Everyone… everyone’s changing,” Chowon whispered, her voice trembling.

I stood, dusting off my coat and walking to the center of the car. “Alright, listen up!” I said, clapping my hands loudly. “This is just evolution doing its thing. Y’all are Slayers now—fully fledged apex predators. It’s not a big deal. You’ll feel stronger, faster, and more dangerous. Maybe you’ll grow claws, fangs, or wings. Who knows? Point is, you’ll get through it.”

“You’re acting like this is normal!” Chowon snapped, glaring at me.

I shrugged. “Because it is normal—for Slayers. You’re just not used to it.”

“But… all of them?” she said, her voice breaking. “Jihyo, Nagyoung, Mikey… even Sakura?”

“They got bit,” I said plainly. “The Slayer gene kicked in, and now they’re apex predators. Simple as that. You’re looking at the new food chain, Chowon, and your friends are officially at the top.”

Chowon’s gaze darted between her friends, who were now writhing, grunting, or grimacing through their transformations. It wasn’t just physical—there was something primal in their eyes, something animalistic and raw.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” she muttered, sinking back into her seat.

Dinozen, who had been quiet all this time, placed a hand on her shoulder. “Neither did we,” he said softly. “But it’s who we are now. And so are they.”

Chowon looked up at him, her expression conflicted. Before she could respond, Nagyoung let out a sharp cry, and suddenly the air shifted. Her body went still, her breathing slowed, and when she looked up, her glowing eyes were sharp and focused. She flexed her hands, the claws retracting and extending as if testing them out.

“Whoa,” Nagyoung muttered, examining herself. “This… feels insane.”

The others began to stabilize as well, their transformations complete. Donny stretched, his muscles taut beneath his shirt, while Leo cracked his neck, looking oddly serene despite the faint glow in his irises. Venus’s skin shimmered faintly before fading, and Sakura moved with a fluidity that was almost unnerving.

“I feel… powerful,” Jihyo murmured, her voice laced with awe as she flexed her fingers.

“Well, congrats,” I said, crossing my arms. “You’re officially Slayers. Welcome to the club.”

Chowon’s hands trembled as she looked at them. These were her friends—her family—but now they were something else entirely. For a moment, she looked like she might cry, but then she took a deep breath and stood.

“Alright,” she said, her voice firm. “If this is who you are now, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Dinozen nodded approvingly, and the others looked at her with newfound respect. Even in the chaos of their transformation, Chowon’s determination cut through like a beacon.

As the train continued on its journey, the car settled into an uneasy quiet. But the air still buzzed with the latent energy of predators in their prime. This was a new beginning—for them and for Chowon. And something told me that things were only going to get more complicated from here.

As the train finally settled into a steady rhythm, the tension in the car eased. Chowon’s friends were still adjusting to their new reality as Slayers, but for now, the transformations seemed to have stabilized. I, on the other hand, was more interested in finding my way back to some peace and quiet.

Sliding back into my seat, I was met with Eunbi’s warm smile. She looked unfazed by the chaos that had just unfolded—a Slayer herself, her calmness in the face of danger was almost unnerving.

“Back so soon?” she asked, her tone light and teasing.

I shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “Figured I’d come back to the only sane person on this train.”

She chuckled at that, her hand resting lazily on the armrest. “How do you know so much about zombies and Slayers?” she asked, her head tilting curiously. “You didn’t even blink back there.”

I sighed, folding my arms over my chest. “Let’s just say I’ve been in the Dead States of America a long time. Seen a lot, fought even more.”

Her brow lifted in interest, her smile widening. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” I said with a wry grin. “Regular zombies, Apex mutators, Raider packs. Once fought a hive of those weird spitter things that can blind you with their goo. Nasty business. But Slayers?” I nodded toward the rest of the train car. “Slayers are a whole different animal. You learn quick when you’ve got to survive alongside them.”

Eunbi studied me for a moment, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And yet you’re still here, perfectly fine. Either you’re the luckiest man alive or you’re tougher than you look.”

I smirked. “Maybe both.”

“Maybe,” she echoed, leaning her chin on her hand. “So, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve fought?”

I considered that for a moment, my gaze drifting to the ceiling. “There was this one mutator… it had four arms, each one bigger than my torso. Looked like something out of a nightmare. Took me three days to track it and kill it, and even then, I was down to my last bullet and one good arm by the end of it.”

Eunbi let out a low whistle. “Three days? Sounds like it almost got the better of you.”

“Almost,” I admitted, a small smile tugging at my lips. “But it didn’t. That’s the thing about this place—you either adapt, or you die. Me? I adapt.”

She nodded thoughtfully, her smile never wavering. “I can see that. You’ve got this… unshakable thing about you. Like no matter what happens, you’ll find a way through.”

I raised a brow at her. “Is that your Slayer sense talking?”

“Maybe,” she said, grinning. “Or maybe I’m just good at reading people.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Well, whatever it is, you’re not wrong. I’ve been through too much to quit now.”

Eunbi leaned back in her seat, her gaze steady on me. “I think I like having you around, Daihouzan. You’re interesting.”

“Interesting, huh?” I said, smirking. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” she assured me, her grin softening into a genuine smile. “You’re not like most people I’ve met. You’ve got stories. I can tell.”

I didn’t respond right away, letting her words hang in the air. It wasn’t often that someone looked at me and saw past the bravado and the theatrics. But Eunbi… she seemed to get it.

“Stick around,” she said after a moment, her tone light again. “I want to hear more of them.”

I leaned back, crossing my arms. “We’ll see if you can keep up.”

Eunbi laughed, the sound soft and melodic, cutting through the lingering tension in the car. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax. Maybe, just maybe, this train ride wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

That feeling was quickly squashed as we arrived at the refueling station. The refueling station had an eerie stillness about it, despite the shuffling of the undead. Willamette, Colorado—of all places—was a name I hadn’t heard in years, but the sight before me quickly reminded me why I avoided it like the plague.

“An absolute piss show,” Jacob’s words echoed in my head as I took in the scene.

A massive horde of zombies stretched as far as the eye could see, and at the center of it all stood the Rage Cage—a sinister contraption of steel and wires, pulsating with an unsettling red glow. It was built to amplify the infection, driving any Slayer caught in its radius into a feral, uncontrollable fury.

As the train came to a stop, I groaned, already knowing what was about to go down. Chowon, Eunbi, and the others looked at me with confusion until I broke the silence.

“Alright, listen up,” I said, taking Leviathan, my trusty axe, off my back. “I’m going to need all of you to stay in the train car while I handle this.”

“Wait, what?” Chowon asked, her brows furrowing.

Eunbi crossed her arms. “Why are we staying behind?”

I pointed at the Rage Cage with my axe, the glowing monstrosity casting an ominous light over the scene. “That,” I said. “That’s a Rage Cage. It messes with Slayers and amps up your infection until you’re just as much of a danger as the zombies. And I, for one, prefer not to get mauled by any of you. So, you stay here, looking pretty, while I handle the horde.”

I could see the protests forming in Jihyo’s and Venus’s eyes, but before they could speak, Eunbi stepped forward.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice softer, less confrontational than the others.

I sighed, gripping Leviathan tighter. “No, not really. But I don’t have much of a choice.”

Without waiting for a response, I opened the door and stepped into the fray.

The first few walkers were easy enough—slow, stumbling dead, barely more than target practice. Leviathan sang as it cleaved through rotting flesh and bone, the frost-etched blade cutting cleanly. I moved through the crowd like a storm, carving a path and dropping bodies with every swing.

Then came the Butchers.

These hulking monstrosities were larger than the average Apex, their muscles grotesquely swollen and their mouths filled with jagged teeth. They moved with alarming speed, but Leviathan was faster. I sidestepped the first one, swinging the axe into its torso and freezing it solid before shattering it with a follow-up strike.

I was just catching my breath when I heard a voice—calm, familiar, and thoroughly unwelcome.

“Ah, I should have known you’d be here,” it said, cutting through the chaos.

I groaned, already knowing who it was. Turning, I saw her: Mrs. Konrad.

Standing on the observation platform of the Rage Cage, she looked as immaculate as ever, her pale green eyes glowing faintly in the overcast light. She was dressed in a tailored suit and heels, her appearance at odds with the apocalyptic nightmare surrounding us.

“Please don’t do this,” I said, exhaustion seeping into my voice. “I’m leaving. You win. You and your super Slayers can have the States. I’m done fighting you.”

Mrs. Konrad smiled, her expression equal parts amusement and condescension. “Oh, Daihouzan, you misunderstand. It’s not about winning. It’s about teaching.” She gestured toward the train. “You’ve gathered quite the collection of Slayers, haven’t you? They need guidance, my guidance.”

I rolled my eyes, gripping Leviathan tighter. “So, what? You built a Rage Cage to teach them a lesson?”

She smiled wider. “Of course. They need to feel the full fury of their powers, to understand what they truly are.”

“Jacob asked me not to harm you,” I said my voice hardening. “So I won’t start this fight. But if you keep pushing, Konrad, I will put you in the dirt.”

Her laugh was cold and sharp, echoing off the steel walls of the station. “Always so dramatic. I suppose that’s what makes you Jacob’s protégé.” She turned toward the generator powering the train. “Fine. I’ll leave your Slayers alone—if you can withstand the onslaught.”

With a wave of her hand, she activated the gate holding back the next wave of Apexes. I groaned, pulling out my phone.

“What are you doing?” she asked, curious.

“Getting the proper music,” I said, scrolling through my playlist until I found the track I was looking for. I hit play, and Ice Nine Kills’s only Christmas song blasted through the speakers.

Mrs. Konrad laughed again, the sound oddly genuine. “You would have made an excellent Slayer.”

I shrugged, my eyes fixed on the approaching Apexes. “Blame genetics. I was born without the necrophage gene.”

“Pity,” she said, leaping away with an impossible grace, her heels clicking as she disappeared into the shadows.

The Butchers and other Apexes charged toward me, their roars drowning out the music. With a sigh, I adjusted my grip on Leviathan and muttered, “Guess it’s time to earn my keep.”

The battle began anew, and the chaos surged around me.

A lasher whipped its impossibly long tongue at me before I grabbed it and cut it off with Leviathan. Before bashing its head in with the pommel of the axe. I then turned my focus to three spitters coming my way. I closed the distance as I jumped above one before embedding the axe blade in its head dragging it through the rest of its torso before throwing the axe into the other acidic bile body the blade instantly froze the organ causing the spotter to explode on a puff of ice. I grabbed Leviathan having mowed down through most of the hoard before booting up the refueling machine. As it happened I felt a weird sensation on my arm to see a Shambler head gnawing on it. It was only the head and it had no teeth so it was only gnawing on me with gums. I rolled my eyes and tore it off me. Then I walk back to the train while finishing off the rest of the zombies before entering.

Eunbi was the first to see me as I stumbled back toward the train car, sweat dripping down my brow and Leviathan dragging along the ground behind me. She smiled warmly, her expression one of admiration mixed with a hint of relief. “Well, that was impressive,” she said, her tone light but sincere.

I sighed, exhaustion weighing heavy on my shoulders. “Impressive huh? Must be high praise coming from a slayer as pretty as you,” I muttered, collapsing into a seat as the automated train roared to life and sped off, leaving Willamette and its horrors behind. Eunbi smiled and said,

"Considering all I have seen impressive is right." before leaning into my shoulder as I fell asleep. Her warmth was comforting.

The train ride continued, with more survivors boarding at each stop. Every refueling station brought new faces, new stories, and an overwhelming mix of emotions. Slayers made up a significant portion of the passengers, their newfound powers creating a strange, uneasy dynamic. Not for me since I had been in the dead states of America for a while, and saw how the dead evolved. Some were adjusting better than others, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. Old rivalries surfaced, egos clashed, and the train car felt like a powder keg waiting for a spark. Lucky for me nothing ever did

I mostly stayed on the sidelines, keeping out of the way as groups formed and reformed around me. It was easier that way. I wasn’t really part of their world anymore Especially as we moved closer to civilization. Oddly enough I felt this existential dread creep up as we got closer.

I glanced out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Jacob at one of the stops. He’d taught me so much about surviving this world, about fighting back when everything seemed lost. But stop after stop, there was no sign of him.

I leaned back and closed my eyes, the motion of the train a dull hum in the background. “Hope you’re doing alright, old man,” I murmured to myself.

As the train finally reached its destination, I stepped out into the sprawling new base in South Korea. It was a surreal sight: a blend of American military precision and Korean urban ingenuity. The juxtaposition of East and West was jarring but strangely harmonious, a testament to humanity’s ability to adapt even in the face of apocalypse.

Our little group stood together for a moment, taking in the scene. Chowon, Dinozen, Eunbi, Jihyo, and the others—all of us had shared something profound throughout our time in the dead states. We’d fought together, survived together, and in some ways, grown together.

Eunbi was the first to break the silence, pulling everyone into a group hug. I laughed, caught off guard but not resisting. For a brief moment, the weight of everything we’d been through lifted.

When we broke apart, I grinned and said, “Well, I guess that’s the end of the awesomepocalypse.”

Eunbi smiled, her eyes bright despite the weariness etched into her features. “Awesomepocalypse,” she echoed as if savoring the word. “I like that.”

With that, we parted ways, each heading toward a different screening process. We didn’t make promises to keep in touch, but there was an unspoken understanding that we would always carry a piece of each other with us. One Year Later

I hadn’t expected much contact from anyone after we went our separate ways. Life had a way of pulling people apart, especially after something as transformative as what we’d been through. But Chowon and Dinozen surprised me. Every week, without fail, we gathered at my home for dinner.

Those dinners became a cornerstone of my new routine. Chowon and Dinozen had adapted to civilian life with remarkable grace. Their experiences as Slayers had left them more confident, and more assertive. Chowon, in particular, had channeled her newfound drive into her career. Under her watchful eye, Lightsum had transformed into a powerhouse, rivaling even Cube’s other flagship group, (G)-IDLE, in popularity.

Dinozen, for his part, had found a surprising knack for storytelling. He’d started writing a graphic novel series about the apocalypse, blending his experiences with a healthy dose of fiction. It was raw, emotional, and oddly hopeful—a reflection of the man himself.

So when a Christmas party invitation from none other than Jihyo of TWICE fame arrived in my mailbox, I was more than a little taken aback. I hadn’t heard from Jihyo since the train ride, though I’d occasionally caught glimpses of her in the news. She’d thrown herself back into her work, leading TWICE with the same determination that had carried her through the apocalypse.

I wasn’t sure what to expect as I stepped into the party, but one thing was clear: life had moved on, and we were all finding our own ways to thrive.

As I stepped into the party, the familiar hum of chatter and laughter greeted me. The venue was beautifully decorated, bright lights twinkling like stars in a sky that felt too close for comfort. It was strange, how such a festive atmosphere felt so distant after everything we’d been through, but I couldn’t help but be drawn in by the warmth of it all.

I barely made it past the door when the room suddenly erupted into cheers. At first, I thought I’d walked into the wrong party, but then I saw the familiar faces: Eunbi, Jihyo, and a few others from the Slayer community, all waving and grinning. It was like the whole room had been waiting for me.

“Yo, Daihouzan! You made it!” Eunbi’s voice rang out over the noise, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Jihyo, standing next to her, was grinning too, her eyes sparkling. “Daihouzan! It’s been too long!” she called out, her voice warm and inviting, full of the same energy she’d always had.

The crowd around them clapped and cheered, and I felt an unexpected flush creep up my neck. For a moment, I stood there, feeling like I was the one who’d just won a battle. People were genuinely happy to see me.

I raised my hand in a half-hearted wave, not quite sure how to respond to the warm reception. “I, uh… didn’t know I was this popular,” I said, trying to hide the amusement in my voice.

“Are you kidding? We’ve all been hearing stories about you,” one of the slayers, a younger guy with short black hair, added with a grin. “We have been hearing tales about the sword saint of invincibility all night’ he has quite the reputation around here.”

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sword Saint of Invincibility, now there’s a throwback… I don’t know about all that. Just doing what needs to be done.”

From behind, I heard Nagyung’s familiar voice, laced with that playful edge she always carried. “Since when did you get so humble? When we met you, you had an ego the size of five spitters,” she teased as she walked up with Donny by her side.

I turned to face them and shrugged with a faint smirk. “Life changes people,” I replied simply, though the glint in Nagyung’s eyes told me she wasn’t buying it entirely.

Donny nudged her and added, “He’s just trying to be all Zen now. You know, a mysterious hero. The sword saint, wandering the Earth, helping where needed.”

“Or avoiding everyone because he’s terrible at keeping in touch,” Nagyung quipped.

Before I could defend myself, the crowd’s cheers began to quiet, but the energy in the room remained vibrant. The looks on people’s faces—the recognition, the shared understanding—made something in my chest feel lighter. These weren’t just random strangers; they were comrades, survivors, people who knew what it meant to endure and rebuild.

Eunbi, who had been standing nearby, slipped an arm around my shoulder and leaned in with a grin. “Come on, get a drink and enjoy yourself for once,” she said, her voice playful but warm. “You’ve earned it.”

I smiled at her and nodded. “Alright, alright. Lead the way.”

She guided me to a table where a couple of drinks were already waiting. As I sat down, she leaned back in her chair, her expression curious but filled with pride. “So, I hear you’re the lead villain rider on the new Kamen Rider series, and you’ve been writing for Ultraman too,” she said, excitement coloring her voice.

I nodded, picking up one of the drinks and taking a sip. “Yeah, actually, I got the job because Jacob saw me on a Rider show. He was so glad to see me alive and kicking, that he pulled some strings. He went back to stunt work after helping find the cure, and Tsuburaya picked him up like that,” I said, snapping my fingers. “He’s been killing it so far, and I’ve been helping out where I can.”

Eunbi’s smile widened. “That’s amazing. You’ve really built something for yourself.”

“Well, you’re not doing too bad yourself,” I said, gesturing to her. “I hear you’re killing it in your modeling career.”

She laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah, the pay’s great, and I’ve gotten to travel a lot. But…” Her smile faltered just slightly, and she hesitated.

I raised an eyebrow. “But what?”

She glanced down at her drink, swirling it idly before looking back up at me. “Well, my favorite Sword Saint never came to visit me. Or even stayed in touch,” she said, her tone light but with an edge of something deeper.

I sighed, letting out a quiet laugh. “Well, it would’ve been hard to just show up and say, ‘Hey, I’m the model’s friend. I’m allowed to be here.’”

“It actually would have been that easy,” she countered, tilting her head at me. Then she added with a sly grin, “I put you on all of my plus-one lists, hoping you’d show up.”

I squinted at her, leaning forward slightly. “Why would you do that?”

Before she could answer, Dinozen and Chowon appeared, pulling up chairs and sitting down with exaggerated sighs. Chowon gave me a knowing look, her tone full of mock exasperation. “Because she likes you, dummy.”

“Obviously,” Dinozen added, grinning as he reached for one of the drinks on the table.

Eunbi’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, and she shot them a look of mild annoyance. “I could’ve said that myself, you know.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of their statement. “Wait, what?”

“Wow!,” Chowon said, shaking her head with a laugh. “You really are clueless sometimes.”

Eunbi buried her face in her hands for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh. “Well, there it is,” she said, looking back at me, her expression both sheepish and amused. “They’re not wrong.”

I stared at her, my mind racing to process what I’d just heard. Then, slowly, a smile crept across my face. “You know,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “you could’ve just told me.”

“Yeah, well, where’s the fun in that? Besides it would have been tough finding you with all your jet setting, and being an action hero” she shot back, her grin returning.

The table erupted into laughter, a lively buzz of conversation and camaraderie filling the room. But as the noise swirled around us, I caught Eunbi’s gaze. There was something different in her expression—soft, almost wistful. She leaned closer, her voice barely audible over the chatter.

“Hey, can we go somewhere more quiet?” she asked.

I nodded without hesitation, rising from my chair as she grabbed her jacket. The party seemed to recede into the background as we stepped outside into the crisp night air. The quiet hum of the city was a welcome reprieve from the noise, and we began walking side by side. The glow of holiday lights danced off the frost-covered pavement, creating a serene, dreamlike atmosphere.

After a few minutes, Eunbi broke the silence. “You’ve grown quite quiet,” she said, her voice gentle.

I laughed, the sound carrying a tinge of self-awareness. “Well, so has life. I haven’t faced a zombie since Christmas last year, and now with the cure and those gene stabilizers for slayers, a lot more people are immune. So… I guess I’m back to being normal.”

Eunbi let out a soft sigh, her breath visible in the cold air. “You’ll always be special to me, even though you’re not a slayer,” she said, her voice sincere.

I glanced over at her, the warmth in her words catching me off guard. Before I could respond, she stopped walking and turned to face me. Her hand reached up to caress my face, her fingers cool against my skin. Her frown deepened slightly, concern etched in her features.

“Why didn’t you reach out?” she asked, her tone tinged with both hurt and curiosity. “Dinozen and Chowon were always talking about how hard you were working, but they also said you seemed… adrift. Like you were using work to fill a void.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I searched for the right way to explain. “Well, it’s just that I don’t really know who I am anymore. So much of my identity was tied to my reinvention as the sword saint, and now that’s kind of… gone.”

Eunbi listened intently, her eyes never leaving mine. A small smile tugged at her lips as she reached for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Well then,” she said as we reached her apartment, “how about we rebuild your identity with a new title?”

I blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

She opened the door and stepped inside, shedding her jacket as she turned back to me. Her expression softened, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. “As my boyfriend,” she said teasingly.

Before I could respond, she closed the gap between us, pushing me gently onto her couch. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater and the beating of my own heart. She leaned in, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was both confident and tender.

For a moment, the weight of the past year—the doubts, the uncertainties, the endless questions about who I was—faded away. In that kiss, there was clarity, a promise of something new. As she pulled back slightly, her eyes met mine, and I saw nothing but warmth and certainty in her gaze.

“Eunbi…” I started, but she silenced me with a smile.

“Shh,” she whispered. “We’ll figure it out together. Just… stay here with me tonight.” I nodded wordlessly as she began kissing me again. As her boldness and passion increased I could feel her hands dipping under my shirt.

"Bold are we?" I proposed and Eunbi smiled,

"I have been waiting for you this last year and now I got you," she said mischievously before nibbling on my ear. Her warm mouth set my veins on fire, and that was all before she lifted up her shirt.

"fuck!" I exclaimed staring at her chest that was exposed. Her nipples were hard and taut as she stared at me with hungry eyes. Without a word, she undid my pants and wrapped her tits around my rock-hard manhood. I moaned as her soft flesh enveloped me. Eunbi smiled as she continued her fucking me with her tits.

"Oh do you like that?" she said teasingly. I moaned again nodding wordlessly as she kept going hypnotically up and down. The experience was so intense I was unsurprised with how fast I was nearing climax. Eunbi smiled as she kept going as if encouraged by my unraveling, but just as I was about to hit the peak Eunbi stopped and I groaned.

“Holy fuck,” I cry out. Eunbi gets up her chest lathered with precum.

“I’m not gonna let you off that easy,” she coos devilishly.

I groan and she says, "Now I am gonna ride you until all you can say is my name. Do I make myself clear?" I nod and Eunbi sighed

"Words Darling," she cooed and I barely mustered a "Yes Mam," Eunbi frowned at that. As she got up and took off her bottoms. she then straddled me before saying,

"that makes me sound like an Old Lady. Do I like an old lady?"

"No," I said haggardly. Eunbi smiled as she continued grinding on my crotch at an evil pace.

"Good Now figure something else to call me," she said

I ran the list through my head and decided on Madam as it felt the least "Oedipus Coded". Eunbi's eyes stared into mine. Her red Sclera made her brown eyes really pop.

"I am waiting Daihouzan," Eunbi said,

"I am sorry madam," I quickly corrected and Eunbi smiled.

"Ooh I like that," Eunbi said as she slowly sank on my cock. I groaned as she bottomed out. She smiled before saying, "Fuck you so…fuck" she said as her body spasmed. Her walls tightened reflexively as she tried milking me for all I was worth.

"Did you just cum?" I asked confused. Eunbi's breath was labored but before she could even recover she was riding the hell out of me as she took me deeper and deeper inside of her.

"Fuck you just fit right," she moaned as she bounced up and down. Now not gonna lie the way her breasts bounced hypnotized me a bit. Unable to control myself I took one into my mouth. Eunbi lost in the pleasure groaned relentlessly as she continued riding me. Her tempo was frenetic as she chased yet another high. Her moans? Apoplectic with hungered lust (trust me I should know all about apocalypses, and anger)

"fuck where have you been all this time," Eunbi groaned as she kept riding. Her walls tightened again as she moaned. "Fuck what are you doing to me." She moaned as she came again. Unable to take any more of her vicious pace and Exploded inside her tight cavern. Eunbi moaned as we both rode out our peaks with each other.

"Fuck." I said.

"Fuck taking things slow. fuck that! You're moving in with me," Eunbi growled possesively before bringing me in for another kiss.

Shortly after we passed out, and I was woken up by Eunbi's dog Geumbi licking me.

"Oh well, she likes you. that's a plus." I sighed as I got up, and was reminded of my dog that I had before the awesomepocalypse. You know what the more I look back on it the more it sucked. I was always tired and fighting and lost so much." despite that I put it beside me as I got up. Eunbi was in the kitchen drinking a Sprite cranberry which made me laugh as she put on Christmas music. I walked to her and she smiled.

"you know we are gonna need a new name for you since you can't be the Sword Saint of Invinvibilty anymore."

I thought for a moment then said, "Since I mostly play villains… How about Great Demon Emperor Diabolos?"

Eunbi rolled her eyes and then, said"You're lucky I like you being over the top," she groaned before kissing me, and said, "I'll take it for now."

Before we could do anything else there was a knock on the door. Eunbi and I looked at each other confused as we scrambled to look decent. When she opened the door I said the following words,

"Oh fuck oh no oh fuck,"

[lau219]

Intuition

Part 2

Previous part here

*No disrespect is meant toward anyone with a PhD. The way it’s discussed in this chapter is just a point of view of the characters.*

…………………………………………………………………………….

Forty-five minutes later, and Tom had concluded the little tour of the lab he’d given Y/N, getting her familiar with the layout of the place and the general organization of where all the equipment was kept.

She’d remained pretty quiet, letting Tom talk as he showed her around, and she’d smiled to herself multiple times when it was obvious he was slightly nervous. Not in a shy way, but just in that it was clear he wasn’t used to having anyone to work with other than Margaret.

With every stop they made around the room, he kept realizing there were additional things he forgot to mention, and so Tom would stutter an apology of interjection for himself to Y/N as he remembered something and then backtracked to show it to her. She’d never heard someone interrupt themselves so many times before in her life.

“Oh, uh, and this…”, “Sorry, uh, I forgot, there’s also…”, “Oh, yeah, uh, and then…”

It was so cute, and while she was nervous herself, Y/N just kept thinking how amusing it was that this poor man wouldn’t ever win any contests for being smooth or suave, despite the fact that he’d definitely win in the looks category. But this was the most she’d ever heard him talk, and the most enthusiastic she’d ever seen him get about something, and it was surprising yet nice to see him like this. Every time he showed her something, Y/N nodded quietly and smiled, softly asking the occasional question and carefully following where he led her.

When they’d eventually made it back to the table Tom had been sitting at when Y/N had first arrived, he stopped next to it and met her eyes once more. They’d met eyes multiple times as he’d shown her around, and despite how moronic he knew he’d probably sounded (since when did he become so forgetful or unable to say a single sentence without inserting “uh” a million times?), she’d smiled at him sweetly each time, just as she was doing right now. It was obvious she was nervous, too, clearly feeling timid and staying pretty quiet, trying not to talk too much and stepping carefully through the room, but she was still somehow emanating her warm charm and listening to Tom with interest.

“That’s pretty much it,” Tom concluded as he laid a hand along the back of the chair at the table. “We just, uh, ya’ know, grab whatever stuff we think we’re gonna need for any given, uh…situation, and then take it from there.”

Nodding, Y/N replied.

“How often do you and Dr. Matheson go out to look into these…situations?” she asked, smiling as she used the term he’d used, since she had no idea how else to label what they did.

Tom gave a small exhale of a laugh and another half smile as he answered, giving a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“It just depends on how many people reach out to Margaret at any given time, but we’re usually always working on at least one case. But with her most recent interview on TV last month, we’ve gotten a big surge of requests, with people asking that we come and investigate either something or someone.”

There were certainly more questions Y/N had about Dr. Matheson and her work that she wanted to ask Tom, but she knew that right now wasn’t the time. She had a lot of questions for Tom about his own involvement in all this as well, but seeing as this was the first time he’d ever even spoken to her, Y/N wasn’t going to push it. Instead, after nodding again, Y/N’s eyes drifted over Tom’s shoulder to the table behind him, and she nodded her head towards the remaining stuff he’d left out before he’d begun showing her around.

“What were you working on over there earlier?” she asked, her eyes traveling back from the table to Tom. “Those track spools look like they’re from one of those huge tape recorder things.”

“Oh, yeah,” Tom replied, raising his brows momentarily as he quickly looked over his shoulder at the table and then back to Y/N. “They are. I took them off the machine to make some adjustments to it.”

“Can I see?” Y/N asked cautiously, her brows raising in shy curiosity.

“What?” Tom replied. “You mean the machine?”

“Yeah,” Y/N blushed. “I mean, sorry, you don’t have to show me. I was just curious.”

Again, Tom quickly reacted, as he didn’t mean to imply he wasn’t willing to show her.

“No, no,” he replied. “It’s fine.”

He really needed to stop being such an idiot, he thought to himself.

Turning, he reached for the piece of the machine he’d removed to work on. Grabbing it, he turned back around toward Y/N and held it out as he spoke.

“This is the part of the machine that’s supposed to pick up sound waves that are undetectable to human ears. But we’re looking to make it even more sensitive, and so I’m adding a small amplifier to it.”

“Wow, that’s so cool,” Y/N said as she reached out and took the piece Tom was offering her. Carefully, she turned it over in her hand, and then laughed to herself as she saw all the little microchips and wires on it.

Tom nearly smiled and raised his own brows in question as Y/N looked up at met his eyes.

“I don’t know how anyone even understands how this kind of thing works, let alone is knowledgeable enough to make adjustments to it,” she gave another little self-deprecating laugh. “I can’t even figure out the right cords to plug into which ports between my TV and my DVD player.”

At that, Tom fully smiled and released a laugh himself, and it only had Y/N smiling even bigger. So this man was capable of laughing? She never thought she’d see the day.

“It’s really not that complicated,” Tom said, still smiling.

“Oh sure, that’s easy for you to say,” Y/N lightly joked. “But didn’t Dr. Matheson say on the first day that one of your degrees is in computer engineering?”

Surprised that Y/N had remembered that fact about him, Tom replied with another half-smile.

“Most physicists have two degrees,” he reasoned with a shrug of his shoulders.

Smiling again, Y/N began to shake her head, but then realization clearly dawned on her as her eyes suddenly widened and then just as quickly, she furrowed her brow in questioning.

“Wait, you’re a physicist? Dr. Matheson never mentioned that. So you must…” she held Tom’s eyes. “So you have a PhD then, don’t you?”

Tom had an almost guilty expression on his face as he replied.

“Uhh…yeah.”

Y/N shook her head again.

“Why haven’t you ever mentioned that in class? And why don’t you have people call you ‘doctor’? Even Dr. Matheson refers to you as ‘Mr. Buckley.’ Why?”

Even though Y/N was looking at him in awe and not judgement, Tom still suddenly felt guilty.

“It’s just…it’s really not a big deal,” he replied with another shake of his head and shrug of his shoulders. “I never really felt like the degree warranted that title for me. I just know physics, ya’ know? But the ‘doctor’ title isn’t really anything that matters.”

After hearing Tom’s explanation, Y/N smiled a smile of awed disbelief and scoffed, shaking her head.

“You’re too modest,” she said. “Most anyone with any kind of degree that earned them the title of ‘doctor’ would be milking that for all it’s worth.”

Releasing another laugh, Tom shrugged his shoulders yet again, and he took the machine piece back from Y/N that she had held back out to him.

“It’s just not a big deal, ya’ know?” he repeated.

Y/N shook her head again.

“Well, I hope I’ll still be helpful to you and Dr. Matheson without any knowledge on this kind of thing,” she said as she gestured to the machine piece.

Tom smiled again.

“Don’t worry, there’s a lot of stuff we do that doesn’t involve any of this,” he held up the piece.

“Ok, good,” Y/N grinned, “because, like I said, I can’t even get my DVD player to work.”

“Did you try just turning it off and on again?” Tom joked, surprising himself. Where had that come from?

Y/N giggled at his joke, very pleasantly surprised to see that he perhaps had a personality after all.

Enjoying the sound of her laugh, Tom just looked at her for a moment, her pretty smile incredibly distracting. Y/N was looking back at him, admiring those eyes of his briefly before they each realized what they were doing and things suddenly became awkward.

As Y/N blushed, Tom shifted and cleared his throat, but they were both saved from anymore nervous awkwardness when Tom’s phone suddenly dinged again.

“Uh…” turning to retrieve his phone off the table, Tom quickly looked to read the newest text Margaret had sent him, and after reading it, he looked at Y/N once more.

“Margaret’s wondering if you can come by again on Thursday at the same time,” he said. “Then she’ll fill us in on what she has lined up for the next case.”

“Oh, um, I think that should be fine, let me just check…”

Pulling her bag from her back to over her shoulder, Y/N opened it and pulled out her calendar, quickly glancing at it.

“Yeah, that should be just fine,” she nodded, looking back up at Tom. “Should I just meet you here again?”

“Yeah,” Tom replied. “Margaret will be coming from across campus, so she may be a few minutes late, but I’ll be here.”

“Ok, great,” Y/N replied. Then she shifted her bag over her shoulder again before continuing. “Well, thanks for showing me around today. It was really interesting.”

Tom nodded and gave her that half smile.

“Of course, no problem.”

“Ok, well...I guess I’ll see you on Thursday then?”

Tom nodded.

“I’ll be here,” he confirmed.

They looked at each other once more, and Y/N spoke a final time on her way out of the lab.

“See you then…doctor,” she gently teased. And when Tom heard her, his smile was suddenly as wide as her own, which Y/N caught a glimpse of just before she fully turned around and then walked out of sight.

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @allie131313 @empatheticlove @febris-amatoria

@meister95 @teawonderfultea-blog1 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @aphroditeslover11 @galactict3a

@lyarr24 @wild-rose-35 @judig92 @cillmurphyslover @ladyvenera

@karah-bear @k1ng-l3on @peskybinders @fuseburner @neonpurplestars89-blog

@shaddixlife @devotedlyshadowytheorist @muhahaha303 @mostly-marvel-musings @myers-meadow

@an-eclectic-of-mass-destruction @wonderlanddreamer @honeymoon8 @cardan-official @pkmonka

@meadows5 @mamawiggers1980 @fmo166 @vastcapacity @mspookington-blog

@fkmarrycill @sl-newsie @mrs-bond @shopgirl6us @cillianbabe

@breakthestereo @4ria790 @toobusyshrimping @randomcreator-09 @hairica

@sasha28x @bleakmidwinter00

[happily-wretched]

Midnight Snack <33

wtf, I literally just wrote a story with the same characters (Mark & Vincent). I kinda just use them as “bases” in case idk what character to use, or what character to make. So they can be in many different scenarios, they really have no exact story. I guess u could call them my little mascots :))

Anyway, this one is a more laidback version than the last one (oh jeez the last one) and has a more… realistic vibe to it. I’m honestly more into these, where you can practically relate to the whole scenario, and almost pinpoint a memory of this occurring to you. Umm, there is still NSFW content on this, but not as bad…….! I promise

Btw, this is kinda late, but here is some basic description on the characters themselves:

Mark:

• Nationality: British/Englishman and American + mild British accent

• Hair: Brown and loose

•Eyes: Green

•Age: 27

•Basic personality traits: Bit awkward, adventurous, polite, friendly, intelligent, and respectful, brave when he needs to be

Vincent:

•Nationality: British/Englishman + stronger accent

•Hair: Black and fluffy yet neat

•Eyes: Blue

•Age: 28

•Basic personality traits: Considerate (bit too much), very polite, extremely loving (only for Mark), easily amused, severely intelligent, can simply be intimidating if he desires

(Maybe I’ll draw them for better explanation)

Anyhoo, back to the story

Caution, this includes: Hunger (is satiated), lack of eating, exhaustion from starvation, arousal from hunger, masterbating to hunger, sex while hungry, fingering, prolonged starvation, mild teasing

It was another long, grueling day at the office. Mark had been stuck at his desk well past 5pm, as was becoming a regular occurrence lately. His stomach had been growling incessantly for hours, but there was just so much work to do. Finally, at nearly 10pm, he was able to pack up and head home, utterly exhausted and famished. 

The drive home was torture, his empty belly churning and rumbling the entire way. By the time he pulled into his driveway, it felt like his stomach was eating itself. Mark dragged himself out of the car and trudged up to his front door. As soon as he stepped inside, the growls from his midsection amplified, as if relieved to finally be home after such a long, arduous day.

rrrmmmmmhggglll

"Alright, alright, I'm home," Mark grumbled at his riotous stomach. "Let's see what meager rations we can scrounge up at this hour."

He flipped on the light and peeked into the fridge and cabinets. A few sad leftovers and some stale crackers was the best he could find. Mark sighed, knowing it would have to do. His stomach gurgled its protests but he ignored it, too burnt out to care. 

After a quick, unsatisfying snack, Mark decided he was too tired to do anything but collapse into bed. As he stripped out of his clothes, his stomach let out an especially loud, high-pitched whine. Mark patted his belly. "I know, buddy. We'll get some real food in the morning. Just try to quiet down and let me sleep."

He climbed into bed and closed his eyes, feeling the rumbling vibrations of his famished gut. It was a weirdly pleasant sensation, like having a little angry beast trapped inside him. Brushing it off, he grabbed his phone and put on white noise, to help him sleep. Eventually, Mark drifted off to sleep, his stomach still grumbling softly.

A few hours later, a loud sound from his phone startled Mark awake. He groggily reached for it, realizing it was a video that had ended and launched into something else, something much more obnoxious. As he sat up and rubbed his eyes, his stomach let out a massive, groaning growl. 

RRRRMMGGGGGGOORRRrrrrllRrr—rrrrmmmrr..

"Fuck..." he muttered, feeling the ache in his hollow belly. He rubbed his taut abs, which clenched and released, rippling slightly. Another loud rumble emanated from his stomach, followed by an uncomfortable high-pitched squeal. It felt like his stomach was twisted into agonized knots.

RRRRRUUMMMGGLLLllllrrrr…fiiiittTTTTZZZZZZzzzz

"Yeah, yeah... You're so damn loud, I get it," Mark grumbled to his noisy gut as he climbed out of bed. He shuffled to the bathroom, feeling lightheaded, his stomach audibly growling with each step. 

Rrrmm…ggrrrmmm…rr..

After relieving himself, Mark caught his reflection in the mirror - haggard, skinny, eyes bloodshot. His stomach let out another deep, groaning whine as he poked at it curiously, marveling at how sunken in he seemed. Mark sighed heavily. There was no satiating food in the house, and it was far too late to go out. He'd have to tough it out until morning.

As he turned away from the mirror, Mark paused. His stomach had been giving him all these strange, conflicting sensations - the grumbling vibrations, the nauseous knots, the aching emptiness. It was an intense, almost erotic feeling. Mark felt a stirring in his groin.

"I shouldn't..." he murmured, but his hand drifted down to his crotch regardless. He rubbed himself slowly as he listened to his stomach's deep rumbles, feeling them reverberate through his body. It was wrong, it was weird, but God it felt good.

Just as Mark's breathing quickened, he suddenly heard a voice from the doorway.

"Rough night?"

Mark nearly jumped out of his skin, snatching his hand away guiltily. He whirled around to see his boyfriend Vincent lounging in the doorframe, looking at him with concern.

"Hey babe, sorry... I was just so hungry… my stomach.. it woke me up," Mark mumbled, flushing. "I didn't mean to disturb you..."

Vincent pushed off the doorframe and came over, wrapping his arms around Mark's waist. "Mmm, you did more than disturb me. C'mere..."

He captured Mark's lips in a deep, loving kiss. Mark groaned into it, draping his arms over Vincent's shoulders as he pulled him flush against his body. Vincent's hands roamed down to Mark's ass, grabbing and kneading. Vincent was always like this when Mark was gone for even a little too long. He’d touch and love like he’ll never see him again. Mark's cock hardened rapidly against his stomach, which let out another long, rumbling growl.

RRRRRMMMGGGRROOORRRrrrr….

Vincent pulled back slightly, a grin playing on his lips as he felt the vibrations against his body. "Someone's hungry," he teased, rubbing Mark's concave belly.

Mark flushed more deeply, embarrassed by how loud and desperate his stomach sounded. "I haven't had anything since lunch," he admitted sheepishly.

"Well then, let's get you back to bed, shall we? I'll make it up to you, I promise," Vincent purred, nuzzling into Mark's neck.

Mark shivered at the promise in his voice. He let Vincent guide him back to the bedroom, crawling under the covers with him. Vincent wrapped himself around Mark's back, spooning him tightly against his body. 

As Mark lay there, he could feel every rumble and gurgle of his stomach vibrate through his entire torso. Vincent's fingers played over the taut, concave surface, gently massaging.

"Poor baby, so empty," Vincent cooed, dotting soft kisses along Mark's bare shoulder. He could feel how his touch made Mark shiver, his cock twitching against his thigh. "Tell me how hungry you are."

Mark swallowed, his mouth dry. "I...I'm starving," he admitted quietly. "It feels like I'm being eaten alive from the inside out."

"Mmm, I can hear that," Vincent murmured, running his nose along the shell of Mark's ear. "Your belly is so loud and demanding. It's almost like it wants attention."

Mark's face burned with embarrassment but he couldn't deny the truth of Vincent's words. His stomach growled again and he whimpered.

GRRMMGGULLLllrr…

"I know, I know," Vincent soothed, rubbing his stomach in lazy circles. "We'll get you all stuffed and full in the morning. But for now..."

He rolled Mark over to face him, hitching one of Mark's thighs over his hip. Mark gasped as he felt Vincent's erection rubbing against his own, still half-hard. Vincent captured his lips again, kissing him deeply. His hands drifted down Mark's sides, mapping his ribs, his concave belly, his hipbones.

Mark moaned into the kiss, his stomach rumbling and gurgling between them. Vincent swallowed the sound, plundering Mark's mouth with his tongue. Mark could feel his cock hardening again, straining against his stomach.

Vincent broke the kiss, panting. "God, you're so sexy like this," he rasped, drinking in the sight of Mark's wanton, needy face. "All debauched and desperate..."

"I'm not desperate," Mark protested weakly, even as his stomach gave a loud, painful sounding groan.

WWWRRRUMMBBLLLLGGRRrrr…

"Oh yes you are," Vincent purred, trailing his fingers down Mark's chest and along the ridges of his stomach. He could feel it clenching and fluttering under his touch, the muscle tone drastically defined from Mark's emptiness. 

Mark shuddered, his cock throbbing achingly now. Vincent wrapped a hand around it, giving a few slow pumps. Mark's head fell back with a strangled moan.

"Please," he gasped out, grinding into Vincent's touch. "I need..."

"I know," Vincent breathed, his own voice rough with want. He turned Mark onto his back and settled between his splayed thighs. Mark's stomach let out a shrill, high-pitched gurgle, the sound waves making his entire torso vibrate.

Vincent leaned down and placed a tender kiss to the center of Mark's concave belly. Mark whimpered, his body arching off the bed. Vincent licked a slow stripe up his belly, over his ribs, and up his sternum. Mark's skin prickled with goosebumps, his nipples pebbling under Vincent's wandering mouth.

Vincent made his way up Mark's neck to his lips, kissing him languidly as they began to rut together. Mark's stomach gurgled and whined with each roll of their hips, the sensations only heightening his desperate arousal.

After long moments of slow, deep kissing and grinding, Vincent reached over to the nightstand and fumbled for the lube. He slicked his fingers and circled Mark's tight entrance, teasing, before slowly breaching him.

Mark keened, his back bowing as Vincent worked him open. His stomach fluttered and growled, almost as if it was feeding off his pleasure. Vincent paused, looking down at Mark with concern.

"You okay, baby?" he checked.

Mark nodded, too breathless to speak. His stomach let out a low, gurgling moan as if it was trying to communicate something. Vincent smirked and started to move, sliding carefully into Mark's tight heat.

Mark nearly screamed, his head tossing on the pillow. Vincent set a tempo that had them rocking together, Mark's empty stomach gurgling with each deep thrust. It was a little painful, his body not used to going this long without food, but the pleasure overrode it.

Vincent kissed him messily as he snapped his hips, occasionally trailing fingers over Mark's concave belly. He could feel it twist and contract around his touch, could hear the sounds of hunger emanating from deep within it. It was intoxicating.

"I can feel your stomach," Vincent panted against Mark's lips. "It's so loud. Like it's hungry for more..."

Mark whined, his hands scrabbling over Vincent's back. His stomach let out a massive, groaning growl of assent, his body shuddering with the force of it. Vincent groaned in response, thrusting harder.

GRRRRRROOORRRGLLLLLRRRRRMMMRRRrrrrr…

They rocked together, lost in the slick slide of their bodies and the sounds of Mark's desperate stomach. The world narrowed down to this dance of pleasure and pain, hunger and satisfaction. 

Mark's belly let out a high-pitched squeal along with a bellowing roar, choppy and frantic sounding. He could feel his orgasm building, coiling tight in his gut alongside the gnawing emptiness. His hands flew to his stomach, rubbing frantically as his thighs began to tremble.

"Ah! Ah! I'm gonna-" Mark gasped out, his words cut off by a strangled cry as he came. His stomach let out a massive, gurgling groan, the vibrations almost violent as his cock pulsed over his fingers.

GGRRUUUUGGLLLEEGGLLL…

Vincent followed him over the edge with a low moan, spilling himself deep inside Mark's fluttering heat. He collapsed against Mark's chest, both of them gasping for air. Mark's stomach let out a few last tired gurgles before falling silent.

gurgglll.. wmmm… Rrrr…

They lay there for long moments, sweat cooling on their skin, hearts gradually steadying. Finally, Vincent heaved himself up and took Mark's face in his hands.

"God, that was hot," he said, eyes roaming over Mark's face. "You okay? I didn't hurt you?"

Mark shook his head tiredly. "Nngh. I'm better than okay. That was..."

He trailed off, searching for words. Vincent leaned down and kissed him softly, tenderly.

"Shhh, I know. Sleep now, love. I'll take care of you in the morning," he murmured, carefully disentangling their bodies and rolling to the side. He pulled Mark's back against his chest, draping an arm over his waist.

Mark immediately started to doze, his stomach already quieter now that he'd been satisfied in other ways. He felt safe, cherished, as Vincent's arms encircled him.

As he drifted off, Mark's last thought was that as much as his body craved food, his heart craved this. Craved Vincent's comforting presence, his tender care. Everything else could wait. For now, he was content.

~~~~

The next morning, Mark cracked his eyes open groggily, disoriented. Then his stomach let out a massive, agonized growl and it all came rushing back - the events of the night before, the pleasure and the pain. He rolled over to find Vincent's side of the bed empty.

RRRRRRRMMMMGGULLLLLL

He stumbled out of bed, feeling dizzy and unsteady on his feet. In the kitchen, he found Vincent already up and cooking. The scent of bacon and eggs made Mark's stomach clench and whimper.

"Morning sleepyhead," Vincent greeted him cheerfully, turning to pull him into a hug. "Ready for some food, I bet?"

Mark could only groan in response, clutching at his stomach as it gurgled and whined. Vincent chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I thought you might be. Sit, I've got you."

Mark collapsed into a chair, kneading his concave belly as he watched Vincent work. His stomach growled and rumbled audibly the entire time, as if impatient for the meal. Vincent shot him amused glances over his shoulder.

"Almost ready, baby. Just hold on a bit longer," he cooed.

Finally, Vincent set a heaping plate of food in front of Mark. The sight and smell made Mark's stomach lurch, a massive gurgle emanating from it. Vincent laughed and sat down across from him.

"Go on, dig in. I know you must be famished after last night," he said meaningfully, eyes twinkling.

Mark blushed but wasted no time scooping up a forkful of eggs. The first bite exploded across his tongue and he let out a low moan, his stomach letting out an answering groan of anticipation.

Ggrrrrmmmgulll

He ate ravenously, shoveling food in his mouth until his cheeks bulged. His stomach gurgled and rumbled constantly, the sounds mixing with the wet smacking of his eating. Vincent watched him with an indulgent smile, occasionally reaching over to press a tender kiss to his cheek.

Mark finished off the last bite and set his fork down with a satisfied sigh. His stomach let out a full, contented little burble and he rubbed it happily.

Bbburrrrrrggull

"Thanks babe," he said, leaning over to kiss Vincent cheekily. "You're a lifesaver."

"I know," Vincent said smugly, pulling Mark close. "Now, what else can I do for you? Anything else I can fill up?"

Mark shivered at the suggestive promise in his voice, feeling stirrings of renewed want. His stomach gurgled, as if in interest.

gurrgglll

"Oh I can think of a few things," Mark purred, already knowing they'd end up back in bed for round two.

But first, he wanted to savor this moment - him and Vincent, sated and happy, safe and together. Everything else could wait. For now, he was exactly where he needed to be.

UGHHHH, I suck at writing sounds. I know it’s ass, it’s my first time :(

[kalijhomentethi]

“God. You’re such a tease, babe.” She says this, though Akali has a grin on her face. A if you keep that up, I'm taking us elsewhere right now kind of grin. She doesn't miss the mischievous look in Evelynn's eyes and the rapper only rolls her eyes affectionately. She should focus on her food. Mhm. Good, delicious food that she ordered just for them tonight. Good, delicious food that she should finish sooner if she wants to check everything off her list for this special day and get her hands on Evelynn.

"And wow. I knew you were checking me out! All this time I thought you were silently judging me or something. You have any idea how hot and scary it was just knowing you were there watching me the whole time?" Akali feels a little silly with how she reacts as she listens to her girlfriend laugh. She feels so, so lucky to have her.

Then, the affection that makes her heart flutter turns into something a touch more amorous as her gaze drops to Evelynn's mouth, watching her lick her lips. "Both would be good. Night's still not done after all." She says, eyes not leaving her girlfriend's very kissable lips. That is, until a hand makes its way to the center of the table. She looks down just in time to catch the way Evelynn looks at the same finger that Akali wishes to adorn with something by the end of the night.

In response, she nervously reaches out to intertwine her fingers with the other. Knowing her girlfriend's expecting the next step to their relationship is one thing. It's another thing entirely to be reminded of it face-to-face, even with no words explicitly said about it. Hopefully Evelynn doesn't pick up on it.

She attempts a smile, in all its genuineness and poorly hidden shakiness. "Is the cheesy person here in the table with us right now? I'd call 'em a romantic one instead, babe. I love you."

It's a wonderful candlelit dinner between the two lovers, with a quiet romantic melody in the background, and an intimate atmosphere thanks to the minimal number of people in the venue tonight. Their table is made witness to countless flirtatious comments from both of them, with especially intimate statements made just out of earshot from the waiters. While the nature of their relationship is certainly no secret, it's better if the events that would most certainly occur after this wouldn't immediately make it to tomorrow's headlines. Plates are finished eventually, though the energy between Akali and Evelynn is just as charged (if not more) when they first arrived.

Akali runs her thumb across the back of Evelynn's fingers. "So, thoughts on what I got for us tonight? Good?" With her other hand she gestures a rectangular shape to a waiter, signaling for the bill. "I still got something in store for us after this, babe. Let me pay and we can get back on the road?"

To have such playful and flirty banter with Akali is something that she has long has desired, and how lucky she has been these past few years. Though there's some sarcastic remarks, mostly in regards to Abel, it's quickly casted aside in favor of enjoying time with her girlfriend.

The desire to be more always lingers, itching away at her in subtle moments. This is but one lifetime for Akali, yet is a continuous (and painful) one that Evelynn continues and always will live. There's a way her eyes crinkle in some sort of delight at the attention granted her way, knowing full well why Akali shifts like so. Evelynn is no stranger to the effect she has on her lover.

"I'm always thirsty." Accompanied with a silent 'for you'. A devious glint holds in her gaze before she shrugs it off and returns to poking at the meal before her. If their text messages from earlier is anything to go off, she has a long night ahead of her and she'd rather not idly waste time sitting here when she could have a better seat later.

While there's a clear concern at the mention of their band, Evelynn does her best to not let her emotions be evident. It wasn't Akali's fault for the way the demon had originally acted when they first met (again) -- the haunting reminder of such a look of betrayal is the one nightmare that reoccurs frequently. A notion that was entirely selfish and selfless, one that -- if Evelynn is lucky -- Akali will never know about.

"Don't worry about it darling." Evelynn coos, twirling her pasta with her fork. "Though, I do miss how your cute ass looked in those pants."

A delightful laugh escapes her lips. Whether it's to mask the horrors of her past, or because she does really miss those pants, she doesn't say. Least, if nothing else, she can appreciate the sweet gestures that continue to follow one another by Akali.

"Least finish your meal, love. You can survive off either." Regardless, she does cast a glance to the exit. While she's unsure of what or where Akali's planning on taking her next, it seems she shouldn't have anything to worry about. Granted, long as fans don't catch wind of their presence. Shifting in her seat, she leans back ever slightly and licks her lips. "Whether I ride your bike or you later, I don't mind."

Pausing suddenly, Evelynn lowers her fork gracefully and reaches her hand out for Akali. There's a still moment, gaze intentionally settling on a ringless finger before she flips her hand over, beckoning for her lover to reach out. "As some cheeky person would say; the time I spend with you is more important."

[deadmomjokes]

She's scared of heights.

My dog is scared of heights. We live in a townhome with three levels and (somehow) four flights of stairs.

She also can't figure out how to do stairs. She can do two steps max. Three and she starts turning stress circles and whining. She attempted the stairs once and wiped out spectacularly on the transition to stair three. She is currently incapable of 3+ stairs, up or down. Again, we live in a house with over 20 stairs.

This wouldn't be too big a problem, as even at her ideal weight she'll be less than 10 lbs. Easily carryable until she gets some practice and figures it out. But then, she is approximately ten inches tall, and the people capable of carrying her up the stairs are 6-9 times that height. Remember, she is scared of heights.

This poor creature must choose the lesser evil 7+ times a day and allow herself to be tormented by The Uppies or else live her life confined to the bottom half of the "first" level of the home.

And worst of all, the dejected, resigned look on her face when she crawls over and asks for help after the second step is truly hilarious.

[chirpsythismorning]

Vecna’s plan requiring Mike to leave for California means nothing. The number 1 following Mike cryptically at the airport means nothing. Them barely giving us Mike’s perspective the last two seasons (despite him being the original protagonist) means nothing and it isn’t setting up his POV to be revealed in s5 bc the entire audience is completely comfortable with where Mike stands as a character in regards to his deeper feelings/motives. No confusion there so no need to address that. Mike saying How will I survive a whole week without you guys at the start of s4 wasn't foreshadowing his fate at the end of said week. Mike standing in front of exit signs 3+ times in s4 is probably just a coincidence. Mike being associated with gaping mouths in multiple moments spanning the entire series, even going back to his very first line on the show, means nothing at all. Nancy’s vision about her family (Mike) dying was mentioned at the end of s4, but it didn’t happen so probably won’t ever happen, even though there’s still another season left set directly after the events of s4. Will calling Mike the heart and how without heart they’d all fall apart, was not in any shape form foreshadowing something happening to Mike and them all falling apart, bc Mike is definitely just a prop and everything in relation to his story only holds meaning on the surface or for other characters arcs and couldn’t possibly be hinting at something deeper that’s being saved as one of the many surprises for the last season.