#just like. all of you get right over here at the same spot so i can shoot you all thank you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hydrobunny · 1 day ago

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everyone thinks that they know us

tags: confessions, getting together, friends to lovers

a/n: written from the idea made by the amazing @yangx2isawhore :3

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it's exactly 11:34pm when the ringing of your phone wakes you up.

jolting up from your bed, you blearily glare at your phone screen. the contact name of SHIDOU‼️ burns into your eyes.

you hang up.

a second later, it rings again.

"what."

"y/n!" as always, shidou's voice is just a little too loud for it to be acceptable. "how mad would you be if i killed rin right now?"

you pause. you look at the time. you consider the probability of him telling the truth.

"pretty mad."

"great!" and you can hear the grin in shidou's voice as he recites out an address. "you can come save him then."

although you were the one that had tried so hard to befriend rin itoshi, you were pretty certain that you hadn't signed up for whatever the hell this was.

you pull up at the address at a sharp 12:02 am, annoyance already settling in underneath your eyes.

the address is a mansion (why would you ever expect anything else), and the recognizable bass of party music blasts through the windows. at least a dozen different colored sports cars (you consider how much one would sell for) are parked outside of it.

you debate turning around. unfortunately, you think shidou might actually be serious about killing your best friend.

best friend. how did you get to this point? friend. didn't matter that you might have been in love with him- rin could never see you as anything more.

you knock on the door.

a man you might be able to recognize if you cared enough answers. his dual-colored eyes flit over you with interest.

"hey there, pretty," he says, and his voice is slurring with the unmistakeable touch of alcohol. "don't think you're on the invite list, but i can make an exception."

you scowl. "no thank you. shidou called me to come?"

he cocks his head. "what could someone like you possibly have anything to do with that psycho?"

"he-"

the psycho in question slams into two-eye's side, whooping. "took you long enough!"

you sigh.

shidou ryusei grins at you, positively buzzing with energy. the smell of cheap (why cheap? genuinely, why did he buy cheap alcohol?) beer lingers around his face.

"did you kill rin yet?"

the grin immediately wipes itself from his face. "getting there."

he whirls around, a warm hand latching around your own- and then he's pulling you through the hallways of this too-big house.

the music hasn't stopped for a second since you've got here. in many of the rooms, you can spot groups of vaguely recognizable people, all of them in various states of buzzed-to-plastered.

you wonder how professional athletes weren't any better than the frat boys that threw weekend parties. (well, the age range was pretty much the same)

"where are we?" you manage to shout into shidou's ear, as he pulls you further away from the heart of the party.

"sae's house!" he yells back.

"what?"

the two of you slam into another room- shidou shuts the door with too much force - and the music fades away into background noise.

rin's head snaps up at your entrance.

"rinrin!" shidou crows. "brought you another babysitter!"

rin stares at you with genuine confusion. his eyes are hazed over, his cheeks a light red. "what? y/n?" a red solo cup, ominously empty, sits by his hand.

"yes, yes," shidou replies, pushing you forward. "the only person who can somehow tolerate your presence is here!"

you slip out of shidou's grip. "what the hell is happening?"

he rolls his obnoxiously bright eyes at your question. "little itoshi's weirdly drunk and incoherent. which means big itoshi has to pretend like he cares. which means i can't force big itoshi to drink an enormous amount of alcohol! so now you have to watch this idiot!"

"i am not drunk," rin snarls towards shidou. "and i don't need a babysitter."

he attempts to get up from the counter he's perched on, and immediately wobbles. you debate whether it would be worth laughing.

before you can make a decision, another side door opens.

and sae itoshi meets your gaze with bored indifference.

"what- you!"

he raises an eyebrow. you're not sure how you got into this situation.

you wonder how you're supposed to react to meeting the one and only brother you've heard rin talk so much about.

some inner part of you immediately doesn't like him. the other part immediately notices how similar they look, and curse their sheer attractiveness.

either way, sae loses the little interest he had in you immediately, turning towards shidou. "is this-" he waves a hand towards you. "her?

shidou nods furiously. "junior is perfectly cared for now. now let's get out of here!"

rin glares at all three of you.

sae sighs. for someone who's supposed to be the host, he doesn't look thrilled at the prospect of socializing.

the elder itoshi turns his attention onto the younger. "you're fine with her?"

rin's eyes narrow further. he doesn't respond.

shidou takes that as his cue. his hands place themselves on sae's shoulders. "good talk, everyone!"

and with another slammed door, you are left alone with rin. it's more than a little awkward.

you open your mouth- he shoots you a glare. you can take a hint. (even if it breaks your heart.)

out of a bored curiosity, and maybe a little spite, you start opening cabinets. they're mostly empty (you wonder what kind of life sae lives).

rin's gaze follows you the entire way. it's intense enough to give you goosebumps.

eventually, you come across a pot of gold- a wine bottle, its cork untapped. there's a ribbon attached to its neck; you spy the JFU logo placed on top.

"he won't mind, right?" you ask.

silence follows.

you open the bottle. if you're going to be stuck here anyways, why let it go to waste?

surprisingly, it's rin that talks first. "why'd you come?" he mumbles out, stumbling over a syllable.

you shrug, taking another mouthful of the wine. (it's good. too good. damn rich people.) "shidou said he was gonna kill you."

“shidou has your number? you responded? why'd you care?" he blurts out in a tsunami of words. immediately after, he looks away with reddening ears.

you eye him with slowly growing amusement. there's a buzzing in your stomach that's slowly stripping your self control away. "yes. and yes. and because we're friends."

rin tch's, still refusing to meet your eyes. you think he'll keep talking, but he doesn't.

so you take another swig of the wine bottle. maybe rin can be the one to reach out for once.

but- like always- you're the first to crack. after a possible fifteen minutes of brooding silence, you sigh.

"what's going on with sae?"

rin's gaze snaps to your face. "what about him?"

you raise your brows. (you think you meant to raise only one. you can't really tell.) "i thought he didn't fuck with you."

rin's face scrunches at your words. "what?"

you groan, sliding down from your perch onto the floor. "you know? i thought- well, he looks like he cares."

he stands up. "he doesn't."

"sure."

he stares at you with a complicated expression, and then makes his way over to you. you blink up at him.

"i don't like you talking to him," rin says, seemingly more lucid than before.

"wasn't really my choice." you shoot him a smile, raising a hand. he lifts you up to standing with it.

from how close you now are, the two of you are almost touching. if you weren't as delirious on wine as you are now, this would be much more distressing.

even now, it takes all of your will to maintain eye contact with him.

"you don't like me talking to him?" you mumble out.

rin tilts his head. "no."

"can i ask why you came here then? or why you got plastered off cheap booze?"

he opens his mouth, then stops. and then- "you're not doing much better."

you clear your throat. more than the wine, it's rin who's clouding your thoughts. his faint cologne- so much more evident at this distance- intoxicates you.

"that didn't answer my question."

his eyes narrow. "i felt like it."

you frown. "what situation are you in that made you want to get drunk with shidou?"

and his eyes flicker down. to your lips.

"what do you think?"

you stumble; rin's hand places itself in the small of your back. signature itoshi teal burns.

you're both drunk. you're in his brother's house. and yet-

and yet, you're both here, and rin itoshi is leaning down into you.

his lips meet yours desperately, his breath catching over and over again. your hands tangle into his hair- he groans wordlessly.

you separate with a gasp.

"are you- what?" you manage, face ablaze.

rin looks just as disheveled. "y/n."

"rin."

he steps back, eyes roving from wall to wall. "fuck. fuck, im sorry. i thought-"

that's not the right words you wanted to hear. you step forward, the wine bottle long forgotten behind.

"you thought right," you blurt.

rin stares at you. a flush sits over his face.

"i thought you wanted to just be friends. that- that you didn't want me." you say.

surprise, and horror, flicks in his eyes. "what?"

you cough out a laugh. "not very smart off the field, are you?"

rin's mouth opens and closes, much like a fish. you think he's going to speak-

he closes the gap between you two, and his lips meet yours again.

between gasps, he mumbles a "i could never not want you." into your form.

and you sigh out your own declaration of love

somewhere in the house, a door slams. someone whoops in exhilaration.

but in this room, it's just you and rin. alcohol tinges both of your breaths. you're both drunk on something bigger.

#hydrobunny #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #uhhmmm at no point did i know where this was going #kinda wordy which prob means this won't do so well but whatevs #thank you to that one commenter that motivated me to get off my ass and start writing

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keepingitformyself · 2 days ago

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there’s been no way for me to say (that i felt a certain way)

Synopsis: natasha romanoff has loved you for ages and she could never seem to get it right.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: college AU, fluff and angst.

warnings: angst?

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha met you in a very peculiar way.

it started at a friends of a friends party, in some internet starlet’s brooklyn loft.

drinks were going around, the music was loud, the smell of marijuana was very strong. she doesn’t quite remember it— after having been to a bunch of parties they all seem to blur into one— but she knows it was enough to leave a lasting impression on her.

she’d heard your piercing laugh from across the room. you, in a tight tank top and some black slacks. she could see the shine of sweat against your skin, the colorful lighting of the room making you seem so beautifully human.

everything sort of froze in the coming moments. she watched as you took your top off without a second thought. you were about to shotgun a beer and you stood tall as you did it atop the kitchen island. you didn’t need the attention, nor did you want it, but you had it.

it was a simple behavior. but it stayed with natasha long after you had crushed the beer can and tossed it on the floor somewhere.

natasha thinks you never notice her staring for the rest of the night but you do.

weeks later she sees you again at another party.

clint, wanda, tony and everyone else joins her this time. she isn’t surprised when she sees you. it was the same crowd, similar friend groups. but this time you made it easy for her to approach you.

somehow you end standing next to eachother near where all the drinks had been laid out.

"hey," you said, voice casual but warm. "didn’t expect to see you here again."

natasha smiled, though she hadn’t expected to talk to you at all. nor did she think you noticed her. "i guess we have similar taste in parties."

you laughed lightly. “guess so."

there was a beat of silence before you added, “you know, you were kinda staring at me last time.”

natasha froze for a second, unsure how to respond. she hadn’t thought you’d noticed. but before she could stammer out an excuse, you were already grinning.

“i’m just messing with you. it was funny. i didn’t think anyone would care enough to notice me.”

natasha was relieved, yet still unsure if you were actually joking. either way she felt this was going better than she planned.

the night wore on and you guys carried easy conversation. natasha was still unsure how to even approach talking to you. she felt kind of shy. so she improvised by making references to things she didn’t think you’d get, but you almost always did.

you dropped a reference to something obscure, a movie natasha had once obsessed over, and natasha stared at you for a moment longer than was socially acceptable. she couldn’t stop herself.

“you’re really into that, huh?” she said, and just like that, the bond started to form. it wasn’t immediate or instant, not the kind of connection that screams “best friends forever.” no, it was something stranger, something subtler, like two different puzzle pieces that had almost fit, only to get pushed back together by sheer happenstance.

“your references are spot on.” you laughed. natasha smiled at how easy you made it for her to be around you.

you and natasha started seeing each other more, slowly building this weird, unspoken routine. she’d text you at random, making some kind of sarcastic comment or joke only you would get, and you’d shoot back a meme that only someone with your specific sense of humor would understand. over time, you both ended up in the same circles, passing each other in the hallways of the university, at class, at parties—always just a little bit more than acquaintances, but never quite crossing into the territory of “best friends.”

there was something comfortable about it. easy, even. but for natasha, it was also strange. the more she saw you, the more she felt like there was something else there, something neither of you wanted to acknowledge. maybe it was a crush. maybe it was more than that.

it wasn’t as though either of you had been completely oblivious to the passing of time, to the fact that you were both growing older, moving through college with the same bittersweetness that everyone else felt. and yet, there was still this distance between you, an unspoken barrier that neither of you had broken down.

natasha thought about you a lot more than she’d like to admit. how she so badly wanted to cross the line between friendship and something more.

by senior year, natasha couldn’t ignore it anymore. her feelings for you weren’t just fleeting glances or passing thoughts. they were there, constant, sitting beneath her skin, running through her mind like a song she couldn’t shake. but it wasn’t just a crush. it was more. she could feel it. she knew it.

the desperation kept getting worse.

it was a slow burn.

you were months set from graduating, natasha felt it was time she’d try to test her luck.

it was late into the evening at yet another party—music blaring, laughter echoing through the crowded living room, and cups of cheap beer littering the tables. one last semester before graduation, before the "real world" set in. natasha was sitting on the couch, leaning against the back with her legs stretched out in front of her. her eyes roamed the room, scanning for someone to talk to. and then she saw you.

you were in the middle of a conversation with clint and wanda, your hands animatedly gesturing as you told some wild story about a disastrous trip to the beach, the kind of tale that had everyone in stitches. natasha couldn’t help but smile from across the room. there was something magnetic about you—how you lived so fully, how you pulled everyone into your orbit without even trying. natasha had been watching you for months now, always on the edge of your space, always wishing she could be more than just a silent observer.

she didn’t know when it started—when the simple admiration had turned into something else. but now, as she watched you laugh with your friends, something in her chest tightened. this wasn’t a crush she could just ignore.

it wasn’t the first time natasha had thought about asking you out. but tonight felt different. maybe it was the proximity of graduation, the sudden realization that this was it—that you both were on the brink of leaving behind this chaotic, unmoored time in your lives. she could either stay on the sidelines or take the chance.

she stood up, smoothing out her jacket and walking across the room. her friends—clint, wanda, and sam—noticed her approaching and exchanged knowing glances, all but daring her to make a move. natasha could feel the weight of their stares, but she ignored them. she focused only on you.

"hey," she said, stepping into the conversation, a little breathless from the nerves she’d kept hidden.

you turned, giving her that warm smile you always did. "hey, nat! what’s up?"

"not much, just wanted to, uh, ask you something," natasha began, her usual confidence faltering just a little.

“i was thinking about heading to this bar later, just to get away from all… this,” she gestured vaguely to the party around them, “and i was wondering if you wanted to join me? for drinks. just us. you know, before we all get caught up in the whole graduation mess.”

it was casual, maybe too casual. but natasha didn’t want to make it seem like a big deal. not with everyone watching.

there was a pause, just a beat too long, before you looked at her, a faint frown pulling at your brow. you were processing. “uh,” you hesitated, glancing at your friends.

clint, wanda, and sam all turned their heads at the same time, giving you the slightest raise of their brows. you bit your lip, clearly unsure, and natasha’s heart sank a little at the hesitation.

"i mean," you said slowly, looking back at natasha. "we’re friends, nat. i just… i’m not sure."

it was a gentle rejection, but it stung all the same. natasha swallowed, masking her disappointment with a shrug. "no, yeah, of course. no pressure." she let out a quiet laugh, her hand rubbing the back of her neck, trying to laugh it off. "i was just messing with you. don't worry about it."

you nodded, a small, apologetic smile on your lips. "i mean, i’d love to hang out more, just—"

"totally fine," natasha interrupted, her voice light but edged with something that made her own heart ache. she smiled, keeping it neutral. "maybe some other time."

she turned away quickly, but she felt your eyes on her as she walked back to the couch, her friends watching the entire scene unfold. clint raised his brows, and natasha just shook her head, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing how deeply that small exchange had affected her.

but inside, it stung. it stung more than she cared to admit. it wasn’t just a small rejection. it was the fear that maybe you had noticed her feelings all along and were just too scared to say anything about it.

that night, natasha tried to sleep, but her thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. you were everything she had wanted, but in this strange, liminal space, neither of you had been brave enough to admit it.

weeks passed, the semester came to an end, and graduation day loomed on the horizon. natasha and you both moved on in your own ways, starting to make plans for life after college. but something lingered. something unsaid. life became a little more faster, and faces got a little older.

you reached out to her a few times. it was never the same as before. it was different now, with this strange tension lingering between you both. but you kept in touch, as if you both were afraid of letting go of something that might have been, something that might have still been.

and maybe it was ridiculous, natasha thought, but she was okay with it. she had loved you for years, and maybe that was the most honest thing she could admit to herself.

because even if you two had never been the closest of people, you’d always been there. always in the background, always in between. and somehow, that was enough for natasha. enough for her to hold on to the hope that maybe, one day, you’d both be able to finally figure it out.

it had been two years since you both left the university. two years where natasha had started a career in marketing, constantly moving up, climbing the corporate ladder while trying (and failing) to suppress the things she didn’t want to feel about you. she had dated, of course. a couple of short-term relationships, nothing serious. but nothing had ever lasted, and she had never quite understood why until now. the answer had always been there, hovering just out of reach, in the form of a text, a call, a passing thought about you.

as for you, you’d moved across the country for a job in graphic design. you didn’t think much about natasha at first. life had been busy—new city, new friends, new routine—but every now and then, you'd wonder if she'd thought of you. if she remembered how everything had felt when you were both on the brink of something, but never quite dared to cross the line.

and then it happened.

it wasn’t planned. it wasn’t expected. but one saturday evening, natasha found herself sitting at a bar in brooklyn after a long week at work. she’d had a rough day. one of those days where everything felt like too much. and then, as she nursed her gin and tonic, she heard someone call her name.

it was a voice she hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

“natasha?”

she turned, already recognizing the voice before she even saw your face. and there you were, standing in the doorway of the bar like a memory coming to life. your hair had grown a little longer, and you looked different, older in a way that made Natasha’s heart skip a beat. but you were still you—the same you who had been in those parties, those late-night study sessions, the one who had always made her laugh with a look or a passing reference.

for a moment, neither of you said anything. just stood there, eyes locking, as if trying to figure out whether this was real.

“i didn’t know you were in new york,” natasha said, her voice betraying the sudden weight in her chest. she couldn’t keep the smile from forming, even though she tried.

“i wasn’t planning on being,” you said, grinning. “work sent me here for a few weeks. i was meeting some friends, but it’s been a while, so i thought i’d just see if you were around.”

it wasn’t exactly casual. but you both knew it wasn’t entirely random, either. it felt like fate had decided that you two were finally going to do this.

you sat down, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it always had. the awkwardness of the past melted away. you didn’t need to pretend anymore. there were no more games, no more hesitations.

just you and natasha, picking up where you left off, though this time, the space between you felt a little different. there was an understanding now, a quiet knowing in the way you both spoke, a recognition that time had done its job.

“so…how’s life?” natasha asked, pushing her drink aside and leaning in a little closer.

you shrugged, but there was something different about you too, something less guarded. “it’s been alright. busy. but you know how that goes. i’ve been thinking about home, though. about—” you paused, then looked directly at natasha. “about people i should have kept in touch with.”

natasha’s heart was thudding in her chest, but she kept it together. she was a master of hiding emotions, after all. “yeah?” she asked, her voice softer now.

“yeah,” you said, with a smile that made natasha’s stomach flutter. “it’s funny how things work out. you don’t realize what you miss until you’re standing in front of it again.”

time had always been a strange thing between natasha and you—something both distant and close at the same time, like a thread that wound its way through your lives, never quite snapping, always lingering. you’d known each other for years, seen each other at parties, shared quiet moments, and laughed at the same jokes. but all that time, there had always been a hesitation. a space between the two of you, filled with something—something both of you had been aware of but had never dared to name.

it was the kind of thing that was easier to ignore in college, easier to pretend it wasn’t there while you were both busy with classes, with your lives, with the thrill of being young and not yet knowing what you wanted out of the world.

but that something between you had always been there, pulling at both of you, quiet but undeniable. the way you caught each other’s eyes a little too long. the way your conversations turned into something more meaningful without either of you intending it. the way natasha would see you at parties and catch her breath for just a moment. the way you’d smile, as if you both knew, but neither of you was brave enough to act on it.

you’d both dated people. tried relationships. but it had never lasted, had it? there was always that nagging feeling in the back of your mind—something missing, something not quite right. as if your lives couldn’t fit together because they weren’t ready to yet. you didn’t have the words for it, and neither did natasha. but you both knew. you always knew.

the things that had once seemed complicated—life, timing, fear—suddenly didn’t feel as big as they once had. there was a quiet honesty between you now, as if you both had grown enough to stop pretending you didn’t feel it. the awkwardness, the hesitation, the “maybe” that had been there before was gone.

it was you. it had always been you. and you knew it too.

“so,” natasha said after a beat, her voice softer now, quieter than before. “what are we doing here, really? we’re not strangers. we’ve known each other for, what, almost four years now?”

you looked at her, your lips curling into a smile that didn’t hide the tension in your gaze. “we’ve known each other longer than that,” you said. “we’ve always known.”

“i think i’ve always been afraid of this,” natasha admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “afraid that i’d say the wrong thing, or that it would mess things up between us. that maybe the timing was never going to be right.”

you nodded slowly. “i’ve been afraid of that too.” you paused, then added with a wry smile, “i was never good with timing.”

“maybe we don’t need perfect timing,” natasha said softly, her gaze meeting yours with something she hadn’t let herself feel before—a quiet certainty. “maybe it’s just the right time now. after all this time.”

you didn’t answer right away. you didn’t have to. instead, you reached across the bar, your hand brushing gently against hers, and just like that, it all clicked. there was no more hesitation. no more waiting. you both knew what this was, what it always had been.

“yeah,” you said, your voice low and certain. “i think you’re right.”

and that was it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda maximoff

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kpopflowerfield · 1 day ago

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Upgrade | yjw

ღ pairing: ex-bf!jungwon x business worker fem! reader

ღ word count: 4k

ღ genre: angst, smut and fluff ending

ღ rating: nsfw, mdni

ღ networks: @k-vanity @k-library

ღ warnings: drinking, cussing, unprotected sex (wrap up), choking, dom! jungwon, tit worship, pet names (good girl,baby) oral (m. receiving), a spot of throat fucking, very rough sex

ღ summary: you and jungwon broke up a while ago, so why is he suddenly texting you at 2am?

↠ check out the rest of the tracklist here! ↞

Seven months. It's been seven months since you and Jungwon called it quits on your relationship and since you both decided non-contact was the best way to go since you were beyond heartbroken to end your relationship with him, but it wasn't with malice. You just got a new job offer, and he wasn't willing to leave his job and follow you to another country as you pursued your career. You were a numbers person, too; sixty percent do succeed long distance, but you wanted to avoid ending up relying on calls and texts to make it work; you needed skinship and intimacy, and you couldn't do that over a call.

It took you a while to have two feet on solid ground, but it was coming together. Your fancy new place abroad with your big title of account executive. Everything was running smoothly for you. That's why waking up in the middle of the night to a faint buzz from your nightstand left you confused about whether it was part of your dream. "Jungwon?" You mumbled, rubbing your eyes as if you were clearing them from debris and rereading the message.

Yang Jungwon: I don't mean to break the non-contact agreement we came up with, but I wanted to know if there was a way we could meet again. I just want to sit down and talk; I feel like we left on a sour note.

You rolled your eyes and placed your phone back down on your nightstand. You tried to fall back asleep but couldn't. The realization that Jungwon actually texted you out of the blue and asked to meet up kept you tossing and turning all night. You scratched your head as your alarm went off. You sat up and began debating, responding. But the no-contact you agreed on was already broken, so what was the harm?

Y/N: Hey, I'm willing to meet up if we want to have a simple conversation. On Thursday, I'll be in town for a presentation.

Yang Jungwon: Sounds perfect. Just tell me where to meet you.

You sent the address and thought for a moment. You did regret ending the relationship with him some days, but then the days when you worked from seven in the morning until eight at night came, and you didn't regret it. You wouldn't be able to have your relationship through text if you couldn't even pick up your phone to begin with. It wouldn't be fair to either of you to say you were dating when you would rarely get a chance to talk. Accepting his offer of seeing him again did feel right, though. Just being able to see his face again made your heart heat a little.

The three days in between his message and when you were getting on your flight passed by quickly. When you told Jungwon to meet you, part of you started to wonder if he would ghost you and not show. You sat down at the bar, looking around and ordering yourself a cocktail as you waited. "Y/N?" you heard that familiar voice calling your name as you turned and looked at him. The once obsidian-colored hair had changed into a honey blonde, but other than that, there were no changes to Jungwon that you could see. He sat down next to you, a faint smile on his face. "How have you been?" He questioned as you tucked a few strands of your hair behind your ear.

"I've been good," You nodded and took a sip of your drink. "Not much has changed. I've been traveling a lot. But that's the job," You smiled at him. "What's new with you?" You watched as he took a sip of the drink that he had ordered. "Not much. I'm still at the same job, but I can't complain. The only change I've made in the past seven months was my hair color," He ruffled his hair, trying to think. A silence crept over until you spoke up. "Can I ask you to do something?" You looked at him, a sudden seriousness twisted in your words that were friendly banter before as he nodded softly. "What?" He looked at you, trying not to overthink the change in your tone. You swallowed before you started. "I know there were a lot of lies before I left. Please don't lie to me. Do you hate me for ending it?" You looked over at him.

You never confronted him about the feelings he was hiding from you. You only found out when a few of his friends reached out to you, telling you that he looked lost without you, and it took a lot for him to smile genuinely. You could read the way he couldn't find the words to say; he didn't know that his friends went to you about how he was feeling, nor was he expecting you to remember to ask him months later. "Listen, there's not going to be anything you say that will make me look or feel a different way about you." You wanted to give him the chance to tell you how he felt about what happened, as you never gave him the opportunity before you left. "I did," He nodded, taking another sip. "But, I'm over it now. It makes sense to do what you did. I wasn't willing to move, and your job is too demanding, so keeping a stable relationship would be hard." He looked at you, a soft smile still gracing his lips as you nodded in response. His eyes never left you.

"You're so beautiful," He looked at you, studying every feature. You laughed at him, hearing the way his words subtly slurred. He was on his third Jack and Coke, so it was hard to take his words seriously. "I'm not kidding." His bottom lip stuck out as he pouted at you. "Yeah, yeah," You laughed at him again, finishing up your drink and ordering another. "I just need one more chance with you." He sighed; you stared at him, seeing him spaced out, and you didn't know how to respond. "What do you mean?" You questioned, taking a sip of your drink. "I mean one last chance. I miss you," He sighed. Your cheeks flushed as you listened to him. "I've missed you too," You confessed, your voice small as you said it out loud for the first time.

The last few words left awkwardness lingering over the two of you. Jungwon sighed a bit as he finished the water he switched to. "Well, it's getting late," He checked the time on his watch. "It was nice to see you," He smiled. "Maybe we'll see each other again?" You nodded a bit, feeling him put something under your hand that was resting on the bar. You watched him walk away and towards the elevator. You looked at the card he had slid under your hand, a bit puzzled as you were expecting him to walk out the door to go to his place and enjoy the night with some friends.

Jungwon: I truly meant one more chance, btw. I'm in room 1103

You stared at the message on your phone. You pursed your lips, thinking of what to do. You were drinking, so your judgment was clouded. But god, did he look good, even better than when you left. You put your hand over your face, rubbing your temples. 'Fuck it, it's just one night,' Your thought was loud and clear as you stood up and made your way to the elevator holding Jungwon's room key close.

You knocked on the door lightly and tapped the card, hearing the door unlock. "One more chance, right?" You looked at him so seductively, making his heart skip a beat. He wasn't actually sure if you'd come to the hotel room to see him. He also wasn't expecting to hear that tone of yours anytime soon, but he was delighted to see your face in front of him. "It was so hard not to take you up here on my own," His voice matched that sweet, seductive tone that you had as he backed you up against the door until he heard it click shut.

Your eyes were locked with his as he stared at you like you were going to be his last meal, his eyes darting around, reading your expression and studying every part of your body he was able to. His hand cupped your face as he kissed you. Hungrily biting your lip and pulling at it, you moaned softly. His hand traveled from your cheek to your throat. Your eyes widened with excitement as he put light pressure on your throat. A moan escaped your lips as he let go. "Fuck, Jungwon," You let out softly; it had been a while since you last felt him do that. It still turns you on every time, and by the look in his eyes as he does it, you can tell it still turns him on, too.

He let his hands travel down your sides until they were gripping your hips tightly. His wet, sloppy kisses traveled down your neck, his fingers teasing their way up your sides, sending shivers through your body as he stopped at the collar of your shirt, lightly tugging. "How about we take this off?" He teased as you nodded quickly. He pulled at the shirt, watching the buttons pop open as he pulled it off of your body. He stared at your chest. His eyes turned dark with lust as he saw that black-laced bra that he'd always loved. "You're so gorgeous, fuck baby,"

His hands moved to your back, grabbing the clasp to your bra as he leaned down and kissed you, his tongue playing with your bottom lip as you kissed him back. He tossed your bra somewhere in the room as he grabbed your tits, kneading them gently. Just his touch was enough for you to elicit a moan. The cool air from the AC he had blasting made your nipples harden. Jungwon smirked against your lips as he felt the pebbled flesh under his hands. He pinched your nipples lightly, making you gasp as he kissed down your body, taking your chest in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peaks, and sucking on it lightly, his teeth grazing them, making your breath hitch. Your moans were quiet and breathy as he kissed your breasts. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he played with your pants, unbuttoning them.

You pushed them down, then pulled at the jacket he was wearing. He pushed it off, tossing it in the same direction as your bra. You pulled away from him, getting on your knees in front of him and pulling at the zipper of his pants. He unbuttoned them and pulled them down with his boxers. His cock was pointing straight towards your mouth, which began to salivate. "Be a good girl and suck it for me," He looked down at you as you stared into his eyes, not wanting to break eye contact with him. Your pussy was throbbing from the idea of having him again. You wrapped your hand around him, getting him as hard as you could before your lips parted, taking him in your mouth. The familiar taste of his salty precum met your tongue. You swirled your tongue around his sensitive head as he groaned.

Your head bobbed up and down as you slowly took more of him, letting him hit the back of your throat before you gagged, making saliva run down from the corners of your lips. "Careful baby, don't choke," He stammered, watching your plump lips take all of him that you could. He bit his lip, loving the feeling of your perfect mouth wrapped around him again. "God, I forgot how fucking good you are at this," His grunts covered up the noises of you slobbering all over his cock. His hand traveled to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he started to move your head on his own, using your pretty little mouth like a fuckhole for his pleasure. Tears welled in your eyes as you choked on him, gagging at the aggressiveness of the thrusts he was giving your mouth.

Your hands moved and grabbed his thighs, creating resistance from his thrusts into your mouth as he pulled out. "I forgot how good your mouth felt, baby; I didn't mean to do so much," His voice was gentle as you panted; your lips were swollen and glossy from the saliva that was previously wrapped around his cock. You nodded and looked at him, your eyes locked together. "I think I need you to remind me how good you fuck me," You smiled innocently as he stared hungrily into your doe eyes. "I think you need to get up then," He smirked, putting his hand out for you.

You took it as he carefully picked you up and off the ground. You followed his lead as he had you sit on the bed. He kissed you gently before holding your hips and turning you around. "Just like before, love, arch your back for me," He whispered in your ear from behind, making you shudder as you did as he said. Placing your forearms on the bed carefully and raising your ass in the air. His tip teased your soaking wet slit making your hips jerk backward, just wanting him inside without being teased. You heard a chuckle before your breath hitched, and you felt his cock burying deep inside your body.

Your walls clenched around him as he groaned, feeling your tight cunt adjust to his size. The deep, quick thrust was enough for you to cry out his name. Each thrust inside of you was desperate and hungry. He missed your pussy, and there was no denying it. His strokes never started or ended gently as his hips jackhammered into yours. "F-fuck Jungwon," You sobbed out at the intense pressure he was creating shockwaves go through your body. "Fuck, this pussy is so good," He continued with his erratic thrusts loving the sounds of you crying out for him and the feeling of your walls convulse around him. He grunted as his skin slapped against yours. You were gripped around his twitching cock as your body started to slump. "You gotta stay up for me, baby," He grabbed your hips, holding them up for himself. "It's just s-so much," You whimpered.

"J-jungwon," You stuttered as he smirked. "I love watching you take all of it so deep." He smacked your ass, sending a stinging pain through your body, making you whine out. "I love seeing it buried inside of you," He growled. Each stroke was sending you closer to your edge. "I-I'm so close," You sputtered as his relentless tempo didn't stop. Your walls were contracting against his rock-hard cock. "Cum for me, baby," His order sent shudders through your body as your moans grew louder from the brutal pace. You groaned as he buried his cock in you, making you hit your peak. He pulled out quickly, painting your back with his cum as he panted, pumping out everything he could. Your knees buckled as you collapsed on the bed, breathing hard.

You felt him get off the bed and go to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and cleaning his mess off of you. You rolled over and looked at him. His eyes looked a bit heavy from the exhaustion of fucking your brains out. He pulled the covers back and laid down next to you, gesturing for you to cuddle up next to him.

You moved and placed your head on his chest as he looked at you. "One more chance, right?" He looked down at you as you laughed tiredly against his chest. "That's what I've missed about us. The connection we had. Not just sexually but emotionally as well," He played with your hair as you moved your head away from his chest to look at him. "I've missed you, and I really want you back in my life, Y/N; I really never stopped loving you. We've always just made sense together." You held your eyes shut for a moment, taking in what he was saying. "Are you confessing after fucking me?" Your demeanor changed as you moved your body off of his.

"Come on, Y/N, it has nothing to do with us fucking; I wanted to say that since I saw you at that bar, but I didn't want you to run off," He looked at you as he sat up. "No, Jungwon, we might have made sense in the past, but not anymore. We're on two different paths. You're happy here and don't want to leave. I'm happy to have new experiences in different countries and get paid to visit these places. That's why I broke up with you. It just doesn't make sense to torture ourselves with desperation, waiting for the chance to see each other whenever we have the chance."

Jungwon looked at you as you got out of bed. "Please, Y/N, we can make it work. I know it isn't as easy, but I beg you to at least try it with me. I know what you're worth. But if you'll be mine, we can keep the idea of us being long-distance optional." You shook your head at him. "Trust me, it was for the best that we split." You walked over to collect your clothes, which had been thrown off and scattered around the room. "Just keep it in mind, please," He sighed. You looked at him and bit the inside of your cheek. "I'll think about it," He nodded as you got yourself dressed. "Please do," He watched every movement you were making.

You reached into your pant pocket, took out the room key, and placed it on his nightstand. "Here's this, don't want to forget it," You chuckled as he looked at it. "Thanks. Wouldn't want to get a silly charge for a missing key," He stared at it and exhaled. "Well, I'm going to get going," You looked at him, seeing the hair sticking to his forehead, and smiled softly. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your night," You walked out and shut the door gently behind you.

You walked to your room and immediately sat down in your bed before pulling out your laptop and tweaking your presentation. You were confident about it but still wanted to make a few adjustments to make everything run smoothly for yourself. When you presented it, it seemed like your mind was elsewhere. Every point you had to make felt like some foreign concept you weren't even familiar with. The idea of doing a presentation like this and being able to text Jungwon right after and going home and being able to call him and hear his voice felt so comforting. Maybe it wasn't the end of the world to try long distance; he was your first love, and even though you denied it, there still is a connection between the two of you that won't fizzle away. Once the meeting was closed, you walked out quickly and pulled out your phone.

Y/N: You've been on my mind all day. Especially what you said, I fear that we'll rekindle and have another breakup, and even though I'm the one who initiated it, I was heartbroken. It took a few months for me to be myself again. It's nothing against you. I just want what's best for both of us. I was scared of the distance, and I thought breaking up was the best thing for me to do to keep both of us from hurting and giving myself a clean slate to work with when I moved. I do still love you. I'm just scared of hurting us again.

Jungwon: Let's meet again at the same hotel and at the same time. We can talk in person instead of sending texts.

You groaned to yourself. It was easier to say the words over messages than in the moment where you had to come up with the words right there on the spot. You wanted to be able to think before every word that you wanted to say to him, but he was better with words in person than over text. It felt silly to try and argue with your side of wanting to send messages. You held your head but then let him know that you were willing to meet him. You paced around your room for a few moments before you walked down to the hotel bar, at the time you agreed to meet, and waited for him. You ordered yourself a drink, deciding to stick to water this time, not wanting to end up in bed with him again before being able to finish your conversation.

"Hey, stranger," He smiled at you cheerfully as he sat down next to you. "Hey," You smiled softly, watching him as he ordered himself a drink. "So you wanted to talk?" You looked at him as he nodded. "What made you text all of that?" He questioned as you took a sip of the water. "You told me to think of it as optional, and I wanted to explain why I'm not sure if I could even consider it an option," You avoided eye contact with him. Not wanting to look him in the eye as you confessed. "Listen, Y/N," He reached to your hand that rested on the bar and held it carefully.

"I'm not rushing anything," His voice was gentle. "I just love you, and I need you to know that. I want to give us another chance. I'm willing to make the move to be with you and have you by my side. I know I don't have to move, but seriously, Y/N, if you'll be mine…" He seemed to trail off as you stared at his hand. "Well, keep it optional," You laughed lightheartedly, repeating what he said just a day before.

You smiled softly, hearing his light giggle. "I'm sorry," he let go of your hand softly. "I really shouldn't have brought you down here to keep begging for a relationship that you don't want." He moved his hand away from you and closer to himself as you quickly grabbed it yourself. You held his hand tightly. "Are you actually willing to move to be with me?" You raised an eyebrow at him as he nodded quickly. "I would do anything to have a chance to be with you again." He looked at you, his eyes filled with admiration. "Y/N," He started.

"Listen, Jungwon, I know I've sounded negative, but I have realized that I missed you, and sitting here with you has been my favorite thing for the past two days. I'm willing to try long distances with you, but I don't want to make you move away for the sake of keeping me. That wasn't fair to you," You cut him off, expressing your thoughts that you were holding onto. He smiled at you, a sparkle in his eyes. "I'm willing to move with you. Wherever you go, I'm coming too." You looked at him, surprised, as he grinned. "Whenever and wherever we end up, I want to be with you. I love you, Y/N," He took your hand and kissed it as you smiled at him. "I love you, Jungwon, but I feel awful making you give up where you're comfortable just to be with me," He quickly shushed you and smiled. "I'm thinking of it as an upgrade in our relationship. Seven months is a lot longer than it seems, and I would say that we both have grown." You leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I like that idea," a blush crept onto your cheeks as you smiled at him.

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gay-dorito-dust · 14 hours ago

Note

batfam fluff headcanons plz

Movie nights are a common occurrence at Wayne manor and as the bat family’s reoccurring guest during these movie nights you have to drag Jason into joining you, not liking him being left out, and as per your agreement you had to sit next to Jason for the duration of the movie.

It sounds simple enough but unfortunately Damian had grown attached to you during these movie nights, so much so that he’s more then willing to fight Jason for the spot next to you, and the funnier thing was that Jason was also more then willing to fight Damian for his spot next to you! It’s his fucking spot he’s not going to lose it to the demon spawn with a knack for swords.

So needless to say that first thing that happens the moment you entered the Manson was Jason and Damian being at each others throats while Dick, Duke, Stephanie, cass and Tim watched the chaos from a safer, safe distance.

‘What’s going on?’ You asked the group just as Jason got Damian in a headlock, their profound use of curse words and insults were the background noise.

‘They’re fighting over who gets to sit next to you during movie night, again.’ Duke informed you as now you could clearly see that Stephanie and Cass was egging on Jason and Damian from the sidelines.

‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ They cheered in unison.

‘Seriously?’ Tim could be heard asking as you looked over at Dick, who was leaning against the doorframe of the theatre room.

‘They do know that they can sit on either side of me right?’ You asked and dick laughed as he brought you into his side.

‘They do but they’d much rather be the one your undivided attention is on.’ Dick replied, booping you on the nose as you gave him an unamused look. ‘This is a movie night, my attention is going to be on the movie not the guy sat next to me.’ You retorted.

‘Try telling them that.’ Duke said as he gestured to Jason and Damian who were now throwing popcorn at each other.

‘I’m sitting next to them! Piss off demon spawn, try next time!’ Jason shouted, almost choking when some popcorn landed directly into his mouth at accurate precision.

‘You can wait next time Todd, you had them sit next to you the past five movie nights!’ Damian shouts back, hiding behind some of the chairs of the theatre room to prevent a shower of popcorn being thrown at him.

‘If they didn’t I wouldn’t fucking bother being here!’ Jason exclaims but while you, Dick, Duke, Tim, Cass and Stephanie watched on a shadow towered over you all, making you all look over your shoulders to see that it was just Bruce Wayne.

Bruce tended to oversee the movie nights, making sure his kids were behaving while you were here but from what he could see from the mess Jason and Damian were making, this was not the case.

‘If the worry of who y/n sits next to is so important then they can sit by me tonight and you two can sit next to each other tonight.’ He says calmly as Jason and Damian stopped what they were doing and looked to their father, then down at the mess they’ve made, then back to their father again before pointing the finger at each other.

‘Todd started it!’ -Damian

‘The little shit couldn’t take the hint and fuck off!’ - Jason.

Bruce sighs and places a hand on your shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry about my children.’

You shrug. ‘It’s okay, no need to apologise mr Wayne.’ Bruce laughs and squeezes your shoulder. ‘Please call me Bruce after all you’ve been here long enough to drop the formalities.’ Bruce replied before addressing his two sons. ‘I mean what I said, y/n can sit next to me this movie night and after this is all over you two can clean up the mess you both made equally as to save Alfred the hassle, do I make myself clear.’

Damian kicks a stray bit of popcorn away from him. ‘Yes father.’

Jason crosses his arms over his chest, huffing. ‘Whatever Bruce.’

Needles to say you enjoyed sitting next to Bruce during movie night but you couldn’t say the same for Jason nor Damian who kicked and muttered insults at each other under their breath in hopes of their father not hearing them, passing balls on who’s fault it was and just acting like two pouting children for being caught in their own actions.

They did indeed clean up their messes afterwards too under the supervision of one Alfred, who couldn’t help but smile while pointing, ‘you missed a spot.’

Jason and Damian groan.

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01zfan · 1 day ago

Text

that's my floor | j. sc

sungchan x reader | 5.8k words

another commission! inspired by that's my floor by magdalena bay.

contains: hooking up at a house party, yearning, hopeless pining, dry humping, fingering

You wanted Sungchan to catch you for the longest. The first year of classes you wanted him to look over his shoulder two rows behind him and catch you looking at him. You wanted him to catch you in the grassy quad with your group of friends, you wanted him to catch you at the million other functions you both happened to be at the same time.

So when you were hiding in the corner of the kitchen where a week prior all that want reared its ugly head, the last thing you expected was to hear his voice behind you.

“I’ve been trying to catch you all night.” He said.

Still facing away from Sungchan, you prayed he was talking to someone else. Even though the kitchen was empty, and you approached him first a week ago, you prayed that you were hearing things.

But when you still felt his presence behind you, and you felt his hand reach out to your shoulder, you knew it was real. You had no choice but to turn around slowly, fixing the look of horror on your face to show surprise.

“I didn’t know you were here.” You said.

You knew Sungchan was here. He was the first person you saw when you walked in. He was the first person you always looked for when you would come to Wonbin’s parties. He was standing in the same place he was last week, right past the doorframe where the living room turned into the hallway that led to the bathrooms and bedrooms. That was always the place he gravitated towards at Wonbin’s house parties. The spot was where Sungchan and his friends usually convened, in between their runs to the kitchen for more alcohol or into the living room for snacks and entertainment.

Usually, you stayed on the opposite side. Leaned up against the wall underneath the fairy light decorations. A drink in your hand and Wonbin at your side, subtly trying to corral you to the other side of the room by nudging your shoulder and flicking his head.

“I’m not doing it.” You said sternly.

You nursed your drink and avoided looking directly at Sungchan like your life depended on it. Your other hand was picking at the end of your skirt nervously at the mere thought of walking over to him. You kept your eyes absentmindedly forward, looking through the throngs of people not letting your gaze settle on one spot for too long.

“Just go talk to him.” Wonbin spoke directly in your ear over the loud music. “You always talk about talking to him.” He said.

Sungchan leaned against the white wall the same way you leaned against the counter in the corner of the kitchen, but he wasn’t cowering or hiding by any means. He talked to anyone that approached him, forcing those trying to navigate the space to squeeze against the wall to get by. Sungchan noticed each time, gently grabbing his friends arm to move them out of the way so people could pass by freely. He smiled at whoever was going each time they said thank you, and shook his head gently each time they tried to apologize.

For a moment you entertain talking to him. You could weave through the crowd of your mutual friends to act like you’re getting something from the snack table that sits next to the doorway. A white blanket resting over an outdoor table with chips and cookies, you could linger around, faking curiosity until you heard a break in Sungchan’s conversation. You could swoop in once one of his friends left, mentioning the class you had together or that you two always conveniently went to the corner store near campus at the same time.

But then you imagined getting so nervous you’d stumble over your words, or just linger at the table before psyching yourself out and going right back to your side of the living room. The thought of it makes you shake your head and turn your gaze back to the kitchen island that was filled with bottles of liquor.

“Absolutely not.” You say.

Wonbin is all but convinced. He shakes his head when you speak, looking towards you but pointing in the general direction of Sungchan.

“He’s actually a really sweet guy.” Wonbin says.

You focus on him again. He stands past the lights that hang from the walls in the living room, but when he leans forward or bends down to engage in conversation, the light illuminates the softest parts of his face. You have no doubt in your mind he’s sweet. You have known Sungchan for the better part of four years, starting from your first year in college all the way to your last. At orientation he was the sweet guy, mingling and forcing even the shyest ones to open up. You weren’t surprised that so many people gravitated towards him. Four years later you were still hung up on how kind he was to every person he met. The admiration you felt turned into something more around your second year, when you realized that he was smart too. It only got worse when he started coming into his own as a young adult. Now you were helplessly hung up on him, so much to the point that you would feel hot in the face just thinking about him.

“He probably already knows who you are.” Wonbin reasons.

Sungchan knowing who you were somehow felt worse than him not knowing you at all. He didn’t need to know that your schedules were almost synced up completely due to the fact that you both were pursuing the same degree, and that you two lived in the same area on campus. Sungchan didn’t need to know that you frequented the same spots at the same time for late night snacks or when you needed to get out. He didn’t need to know about your tendency to put your foot in your mouth or his habit of making you unreasonably nervous.

“Next time.” You murmur.

“You said that last time.” Wonbin comes between your line of sight and Sungchan. “I’ve been hearing about your little crush for too long now. I might end up taking matters into my own hands.”

At your friends threat you cock your head to the side. Wonbin mirrors your expression with a sinister grin. Then a moment later through the dancing crowd of people Wonbin opens his mouth. The beginning of Sungchan’s name falls from his lips and your feet move you forward deeper into the living room, desperately getting away from the situation. Wonbin’s eyes follow you as you go through the crowd, and you pray that Sungchan didn’t hear him.

You would’ve gladly spent the rest of the party in between the large group of people that danced in the living room. But at some point you wormed your way through the crowd and ended up on the other side of it, looking at the assortment of snacks on the table. As you continued to look down Sungchan was in the corner of your eye, nodding along to some conversation before he adding to it. The more you lingered the more you felt like he was looking at you. There was a break in the conversation and some of Sungchan’s friends dispersed to different parts of Wonbin’s house. It was just him alone, leaning against the wall in earshot of your voice. You held your breath and thought about what you were going to say three times. A deep breath in and you grabbed a snack, clearing your throat and turning your head towards Sungchan getting ready to speak.

“Sungchan!”

Both you and Sungchan turned your head at the same time. As you looked into the crowd to find the source of the voice Sungchan had already found it. A smile on his lips before he waved, preemptively bending down to hear her clearly.

“Minjeong. You never come to these things.” Sungchan said.

You’re not sure what Minjeong said next. You knew it couldn’t have been that funny to cause Sungchan to tilt his head back in laughter, and you know he wasn’t far enough for Minjeong to bring her hand up to his arm.

You stood next to the snack table and something akin to jealousy started boiling in your stomach. Almost immediately the jealousy turned to anger, and you were marching your heeled boots across the sticky wooden floors to the kitchen where Wonbin was already waiting for you.

From that point on, the party was a blur. Wonbin offered you something stronger to drown your sorrows despite the alcohol only making you more hellbent on remaining nonchalant. Even if you glared at the two of them from across the room you remained steadfast in answering Wonbin’s questions with a curt I’m fine before downing another drink. Before you knew it the party was thinning out and Minjeong left to catch up with her friends while Sungchan continued to talk to his.

Then the party really started winding down and you had alcohol buzzing in your system and a sense of jealousy you couldn’t quite shake.

So as Sungchan walked away from his designated spot and past where you reached out your hand and suddenly cleared your throat.

“Sungchan.” You said.

In that moment both of you seemed equally caught off guard. Sungchan stared at you and stopped completely in his tracks. Your hand was extended towards his body for a prolonged period of time before you hesitantly brought it back to your side. You realized in that moment that you had never actually spoken to him, all those years you spent staring at the back of his head and thinking about him gave you a false sense of knowing him. So when it sunk in that you were essentially a stranger to Sungchan despite knowing everything about him, you cleared your throat again.

“Have a nice night.” You said.

Sungchan cocked his head to the side at your abrupt well wishes. You felt a creeping sense of blush pink embarrassment wash over you, and in your haste you focused on finding Wonbin. Something to bridge the terrible gap between you and Sungchan that became a chasm in a matter of seconds. But before you could locate your mutual friend Sungchan nodded and raised his hand towards you briefly.

“Thanks.” He continued to walk, heading towards his friends that were already out the door. “You too.” He replied.

You held onto your short interaction with Sungchan entirely too much. His confused face flashed through your mind anytime there was a moment of silence, causing you to cringe inwardly. You thought about his awkward hand gesture towards you as he was leaving the party, and his reply that he seemed confused by. He was probably confused by the whole interaction. You caught him off guard, you caught yourself off guard. You no longer trusted yourself to be in his presence.

To never be caught in the same situation again, you avoided Sungchan at all costs. You came to class long before Sungchan did instead of arriving at the same time. You walked up rows of stairs now to avoid being in his line of sight, sitting behind a cluster of your classmates so he couldn’t see you. When he turned in his seat you sunk into yours, hiding in the spine of your textbook or behind the screen of your laptop. When you saw Sungchan at the corner store near campus you avoided him completely, feigning focus on random labels of snacks instead of Sungchan curiously looking down the aisles. You ignored the awkward hand waves he did towards you, the sound of your shared snack choices moving around in his basket. Instead you were focused on the nutritional facts of garbanzo beans and the low sound of pop music playing from the speakers.

You spent a week avoiding Sungchan by any means you thought you had finally succeeded. You thought that he had gone back to ignoring your presence. Your voice conveyed so much shock that he recoiled, bringing his hand that was on your shoulder back to his side before he looked away. Sungchan’s hand that went to the back of his neck showed that he didn’t realize you were running around and leaving rooms anytime he showed an inkling of wanting to approach you. You were scared shitless, so much so that you thought it was obvious. But Sungchan looked at you from beside the kitchen island, almost looking hurt as you both tried thinking of what else to say.

“I just was seeing you all night.” Sungchan gripped the edge of the kitchen island. “Zipping around. Just wanted to talk to you for a little bit.” He says.

The way Sungchan avoids eye contact is undeniable. His eyes go to the assortment of bottles on the kitchen island and the tile walls above the kitchen. You wouldn’t that he fails to meet your gaze because you fail to do it too. Both of your eyes flitter around the kitchen and you both nervously teeter from one foot to the other. It isn’t until Sungchan brings his cup back up to his lips that he dares to look at your face.

“You caught me.” You say quietly.

Sungchan nods his head.

“I caught you.” He affirms.

The party continues on beyond the kitchen. More people Wonbin knows come through the front door, cheering loud enough that causes other people to cheer with them. The living room becomes so packed that the crowd bleeds past the threshold of the kitchen. The party continues to expand, before you know it you and Sungchan are pushed closer and closer together by the growing crowd.

“You know.” Sungchan has to bend down to talk directly into your ear. The more people that came into the party the louder the music became. “I’m more attentive than you give me credit for.” He says.

The way he speaks almost sounds like his feelings are hurt. You should really take the words he says to you at face value.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You reply.

You really should have taken the words he said at face value. Because now there’s no denying to heat that spreads across your face and the smile you can’t control. You can practically hear the smile in Sungchan’s voice as he gets closer to you.

“I know you didn’t ask but me and Minjeong are just friends.” Sungchan points to one of his friends, standing in their designated spot as he talks to another person. “She’s dating my roommate. She rarely comes out so I was just surprised to see her is all.”

You keep your eyes towards the same doorframe you saw Sungchan last week, the same place you attempted to enter his orbit. The situation then threw you off balance, but the way he now leans in closely and nods at you makes your hands almost shake. But there is something nagging at you more than anything. The question eats at you while you rub the edge of the red solo cup and when girls come to inspect their choice of alcohol you force yourself to look up at Sungchan. He takes in your pensive look immediately, he blinks away the amusement from your joke to a worried look.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask with a smile, and the girls in the radius of your conversation get a little quieter as they make their selection of alcohol.

You watch Sungchan get visibly nervous. His own gaze flits to the girls briefly before he brings his red solo cup to his lips. He pulls away and you can see him try his best to hide the bitter taste behind a head nod.

“Go ahead.” He answers.

You nod, suddenly aware that now you have to ask the question. You look away from Sungchan’s intense gaze, causing him to lean a little closer. He fully invades your space now, causing your hand to clench around your plastic cup and to bite on your lips.

You realize in that moment that you’ve never been this close to Sungchan before. You’ve never been able to see how long his eyelashes are, how they fan his face between each blink of his curious eyes. You’ve never had to look up to him before, from such a distance he’s always been eye level.

“Did you ever notice me?” You ask.

Sungchan nods his head immediately. He looks into his cup for a second and smiles wistfully to himself. You can feel your heart thudding in your chest.

“I noticed you.”

Sungchan speaks so suddenly it catches you by surprise. You lean your head back and Sungchan slightly leans forward. His hand grips the edge of the island as thinks carefully, his lips pull tight and he looks up to the ceiling of the kitchen. You move to your other foot and feel the urge to press your hand deep over your ribcage.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” He looks at the tiled surface of the counter before looking to you. “But I noticed.” He says carefully.

Last week you talked for Sungchan for the first time, a brash decision caused by alcohol and jealousy. Now he was squeezing you past his friends as you ducked your way towards Wonbin’s room. You barely remember the progression from standing beside the island in the kitchen to walking behind him. His hand that was hesitant in touching you was confidently placed on the small of your back, inching further and further down as his body got closer to yours. You were operating on Sungchan’s guiding hand alone, each time the crowded party caused Sungchan’s front to press against your back caused your mind to blank. Your feet dragged across Wonbin’s living room floor, you two managed to squeeze through the entire party without a single person noticing you. Sungchan’s roommate only dapped him up as you continued down the hallway towards Wonbin’s room. You didn’t even have the chance to look behind you before Sungchan’s body was pressed against yours again, his hand reaching forward to open the bedroom door.

“You know this means you can’t avoid me around campus anymore, right?” Sungchan says as the door clicks closed behind you.

You can’t bring yourself to think about anything except Wonbin’s unoccupied and neatly made bed in front of you and Sungchan’s hands that grip your waist behind you. Your mind refuses to deviate from the task at hand. You have no brainpower left to try and convince Sungchan that you’ve blatantly ignored him the past week. You can only turn around and bring yourself to look at him for a second before you close the distance between your lips. With a simple tug at his collar Sungchan understands entirely too fast, a hand goes to your cheek the same time his other hand reaches behind him to turn the lock on the doorknob. Immediately his hand returns to your waist the same time you tilt your head to kiss him deeper. His hand on your cheek is soft, his lips that refuse to kiss you with the same fervor is even softer.

Sungchan walks you backwards towards Wonbin’s bed but lets you turn him. Within seconds it’s you impatiently walking on his feet, and you do a terrible job of guiding his body backwards. You truthfully don’t know where you are, you barely remember what you’re doing until his legs hit the edge of the bed. Sungchan takes his hands from your hips to break his landing on the mattress. You realize you’ve come in entirely too hot when Sungchan loses his balance, his palms planting into the bed is the only thing that stabilizes him.

With you looking down at Sungchan and him looking up at you, the situation you found yourself in began to slowly sink in. Sungchan was already making himself comfortable on the bed, looking up to you like you had all the power in the world. Your spit glistened on his lip and the music continued playing. The bass shook the floor you stood on and the more you realized Sungchan wanted you the more you believed you were going to ruin it all. The tension built between you two over the course of years felt like it was at risk of dissipating in seconds. You were practically waiting for Sungchan to blink the lust away from his eyes, you were waiting for a switch to flip that would make him forget you all over again. You had convinced yourself were at risk of being right at square one despite Sungchan pulling himself to the center of the bed and reaching out to your waist in a silent invitation.

All it takes is one gentle pull from Sungchan before your crawling on the bed after him. He lays on his back you get on the bed with your knees planted on either side of him. You start your way up his body the same time his hands start on your bare thigh, palming and rubbing your soft skin slowly. The mattress creaks underneath your knees, the sound drowns out your quiet exhales and your thighs brushing against Sungchan’s jeans. You look at the indent your weight is making in the dark comforter before you finally bring your gaze up to Sungchan.

Everything stops when you find he’s already looking at you. A half-lidded gaze that would’ve made you look away any other time, but for the first time ever you focus on him completely. You do not want to waste a single second not looking at him. You don’t want to miss the way his hand hesitantly works further up your body as he blinks away the arousal to show sincerity.

“I don’t want you to think I planned this.” He slowly drags his hands up, one gripping your waist and the other pressed into your lower stomach. He makes your hips come further down to press against his, and you feel his length against your clothed cunt. Sungchan’s eyes go down to where you two are so close to meeting, the lightest graze downwards to feel the cotton fabric and elastic trim of your panties. “I didn’t chat you up just to fuck.” He says truthfully.

Sungchan is admittedly already lost in you. His voice is far off as he speaks to you, almost falling underneath the baseline of the party that continues on downstairs. The low hum of lyrics leak through the walls, and the occasional yell of something happening upstairs fills the silence between the two of you. But Sungchan isn’t focused on the music or the people, he is focused on the soft skin of your lower stomach against his fingertips.

He was two seconds away from grabbing your stomach and watching the flesh spill between the gaps of his fingers when you dragged your hips against his. Suddenly it was the sound of fabric filling the room, his denim catching against cotton and the sound of mutual sharp inhales.

“Who says we’re fucking?” You ask.

Your heart is pounding in your chest at your bold words. The word fucking felt foreign rolling off your tongue in this context, but the way Sungchan’s gaze snapped up to you gave you confidence. His hand completely loosening its grip emboldened you enough to repeat the motion. Your hips were laid heavy against Sungchan’s body as you moved forward, feeling his constrained and twitching dick rub against you.

“You’ll have to take me out to dinner first.” When you grind your hips a third time you have to lean forward, your hands pressing into the mattress on either side of Sungchan’s head. The new positioning allows you to drag your hips with more fluidity. Warmth comes off of him in waves. His head warms your hands, the heat radiating from his body pressed against yours almost feels like a flame. When you swivel to again Sungchan’s hands go to your hips, experimentally pressing you down further. “I’m not that easy.” You chide.

Sungchan is nodding his head in an instant. He parts his lips to speak as you grind your hips against his again, instead of speaking he swallows. You swear you can feel every inch of him, even when layers of clothes separate your sexes.

“I’ll take you out.” Sungchan breathes out, closing his eyes and pressing his head into the mattress as he slows your hips down. “I’m going to take you to that place Wonbin said you like.” He laments.

You only nod back to him. The sensation of grinding against him is intoxicating. Like the layer of clothes have been shed you can feel his warmth flood you like he’s inside, and the way he grips at your waist only increases the feeling. Your eyebrows knit together when you flick your hips a different way, the new sensation lighting up your spine.

“I swear I can feel you.” Sungchan whines it to the ceiling. His thumbs press deep into your stomach, and you clutch the sheets beside his head. “Can you feel me?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You whine.

Your eyes are screwed shut for a moment, focusing on repeating that same motion that made you feel like you were on fire. Sungchan’s hand reaches further up, grabbing a handful of your chest and you move into his touch.

“Where can you feel me?” He asks.

When you open your eyes again Sungchan is already looking up at you. His pupils are blown out and you’re sure you looked the same, complete with the bitten lips and death grips behind your hands. Your shaky hand lets go of the sheets and drifts to your stomach, a heavy hand tracing over Sungchan’s torso. He freezes up underneath your touch, but you watch the muscles of his stomach tense when your hand lays flat on your lower stomach. You press deep into your stomach and it causes your hips to twitch erratically. As if the tension is a real tangible thing in the pit of your gut you stimulate it, looking down at Sungchan when you start moving your hips in a circle.

“I can feel you here.” You answer.

Both of you know that technically Sungchan is nowhere close to being inside of you. There’s two pairs of underwear, jeans, and about four years of pining that separate you. You both know that even if you’re grinding on Sungchan’s dick and he’s keeping your cunt flush to him, there’s still so much left to the imagination. He doesn’t know what you look like laying bare for him and you don’t know what his dick looks like free of its confines. But you’ve yearned for this so long your mind has been prepared to fill the gaps. You have been walking in the desert for years, so of course having a drop of water feels like you’re drowning. You can feel his dick throbbing like a rock forming in the pit of your stomach. Each drag of your hips is like swimming deeper and deeper to the end, Sungchan’s breathy groans that you’ve dreamed about pulls you under.

“I can feel it too.” Sungchan brings his gaze back up to you, eyes glazed over. “I swear I can.” He says.

Sungchan pulls himself further onto the bed, his hand goes to your lower back to keep you stable. Before you know it he’s sitting up on the bed entirely, chest pressed to yours as he puts his face in the crook of your neck.

The new angle and Sungchan’s iron grip on your body has you whining. That coil in your stomach continues to tighten, even if it’s stubborn from the lack of you being touched the way you truly need. Even if you are not getting fucked you still feel the excitement, and despite Sungchan not being inside of you he still ruts his hips upwards in a haste.

“It feels so good.” He feels your skin that’s hot to the touch, he feels your hair tickling the side of his face and he feels your heart beating against his chest. He can feel the atmosphere surrounding you two, the undeniable tension that you were unknowingly avoiding. Even if he can’t technically feel the way your walls close around nothing sporadically, he can feel something. “You feel so good.” He sighs.

You nod your head against his. You can feel it too.

“Sungchan, I’m so close.” You whine.

The bass from the music downstairs gets louder, shaking the floor the bed resides on and the walls that are closing you and Sungchan in. You can feel the energy of the party increase tenfold, and the electricity between you and Sungchan threatens to fry your brain to a crisp. Everything is too much, entirely too much.

When Sungchan pulls his body away from yours and props his hand behind his back, you feel overwhelmed. Your hips control you now, moving almost in a frenzy chasing after something that already feels like it’s fleeting.

His eyes go down to your panties, he watches the cotton fabric move against his jeans intensely before his gaze goes back up to you. Without a word Sungchan takes his hand from behind him and holds onto you tighter. With you as his new anchor he pushes his hand past the elastic band of your panties, and pushes them lower and lower. When his quick hand bumps your clit your full body twitches, and when his two fingers push past your slit you go forward entirely.

You collapse into him pathetically, grasping at anything you can to steady yourself. You can feel Sungchan’s body sway from your weight, his core strength is the only thing that keeps your bodies upright. If it’s a strenuous task he doesn’t let it be known, he only rests his head on top of yours and continues pumping his fingers in and out of your heat.

“Oh my God.” Your words are muffled in his white tee, they slide out like the spit seeping from the corner of your mouth.

“I got you.” He says.

Him holding on just for you was the last thing you needed. Your hands that found their way to Sungchan’s bicep grips them so tightly you can feel your nails digging into his soft skin. You curse into his chest, and when you feel that coil snap Sungchan brings you in closer. His large hand splays against your back as your hips flick with no rhythm. You can feel Sungchan hold on for a moment longer before his body shudders underneath yours, causing his fingers to fuck you at a faster pace.

You are completely lost. You’re lost in the pressure and the feeling of Sungchan’s hard body against yours. You can barely force yourself to look upwards at through the bliss to see him, and the view is devastating. The way Sungchan looks down at you pulls you deeper to the point that you’re helplessly whimpering in his face. Sungchan starts letting out sounds of his own, whispered cursed and beginnings of grunts. When the music stops downstairs you two choose to muffle your sounds by kissing.

Instantly Sungchan slips his tongue into your mouth. You can taste him run it over your top row of teeth, then to the inside of your cheek. You moan into Sungchan’s mouth and he moans into yours. You can’t stop yourself from bringing your hands to his face and tilting it to the side. You feel another pull when Sungchan submits immediately to you, and you can feel his moans turn to whimpers inside of your mouth. For a split second you open your eyes to see his closed as he tilts his head to the other side. His cheeks are so smooth underneath your fingertips and he looks so pure, even when your spit glazes the perimeter of his lips and he moans into your mouth. For a moment you can handle it, but just like when the music picks up again there is too much going on. Your hand grabs at his that’s in your underwear and you reluctantly break apart from his lips.

“Too much.” You whimper.

Sungchan opens his eyes in a daze, for a moment his fingers still move inside of you like they have a mind of their own. When he subconsciously presses his fingers against your walls you seize again, and a cry escapes your lips.

Sungchan pulls his fingers out of you and the two of you watch as he pulls his hand from your underwear to hold your waist. The view is too much, entirely too much but you can’t bring yourself to look away. The two of you are still caught up in the sight, and when the dust settles and Wonbin starts yelling at people to leave everything starts sinking in.

You pull away completely first. Both you and Sungchan’s breathing is still labored as you look the other up and down. Your hands still shake when you ball them into first, and your first mouthful of spit you swallow still tastes like Sungchan. He was kissing you and fingering you on Wonbin’s bed, he was kissing you like his life depended on it. Everything moved so fast that it replayed like a movie in your head. Flashes of your moans and Sungchan gripping you so tight permeates the forefront of your mind. Your first instinct is to get away from him, as if there was anyway for you to expose yourself to him further.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble.

When you try to crawl off of Sungchan he grips your waist even tighter. Sungchan’s bewildered expression drops when the apology stumbles from your lips.

“Please don’t say sorry while my hand is still in your pants.” He says painfully.

You don’t think you’ve ever been in a worse situation. The tips of Sungchan’s fingers are still hidden underneath your jeans, you can still feel the bottom of his palm press into your stomach. You unintentionally squirm on his lap again, and like his foot has been stepped on Sungchan sucks in another deep breath.

“Sor—” Sungchan begging you not to say sorry makes you stop in the middle of your sentence. “My bad.” You say.

Wonbin still is yelling at people to clear out of his apartment. His voice sounds closer than it did before, like he was in that part of the hallway that either too him to the bathrooms or to his bedroom that you and Sungchan were currently occupying.

Both of you know you should get up. The more time you waste staring at eachother trying to find the words to say Wonbin gets closer and closer to discovering that his door is locked and he hasn’t seen his two bestfriends in a prolonged period of time. But you can’t stop looking at Sungchan’s lips in awe that you were kissing them minutes ago and he can’t take his hands away from your bare skin.

The door handle is turned one way then the other, causing the metal knob to twist back and forth. You can’t be bothered to turn your head. Sungchan’s hands start lightly kneading your waist.

“Who the fuck is in here?” Wonbin yells on the other side.

#commissionz #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

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levandright · 20 hours ago

Text

OUR SHARED RHYTHM | P.SH

pairing : idol!sunghoon x figure skater!reader content / warning(s) : fluff, idol au, extremely supportive partner sunghoon, est relationship word count : 0.6k

synopsis . just sunghoon being your biggest fan ever, and being a good supportive boyfie <3 ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!! the idea for this was by @kozumesphone :3 really love how it turned out and hope you'll love it too!

the rink smells the same as it always does—crisp and faintly metallic, with the hum of excited chatter echoing through the stands. sunghoon adjusts his cap, tugging it low as he settles into his usual spot near the barrier. his schedule had been packed the past few weeks—photoshoots, rehearsals, back-to-back performances—but he’d made sure to find time for you. he always does.

your competitions are non-negotiable.

in his hands, he clutches a small, slightly worn stuffed toy—a plush you’d once pointed out at a carnival years ago. it’s traveled with him to every one of your competitions, waiting for its moment to fly.

the announcer calls your name, and the crowd erupts. sunghoon stays quiet for now, his cheers reserved for the moment you finish. for now, he just watches, his heart already beating faster as you step onto the ice.

you look calm, composed, the picture of confidence. but he knows better. he notices the subtle flex of your fingers, the quick glance toward the stands. he raises the plush slightly, just enough for you to spot it.

your lips curve into the smallest smile, and he relaxes. you’re ready.

the music begins, and you move like you’re dancing with the ice itself. every glide, every jump, every spin is perfect—at least to him. he’s seen this routine in its rawest form, in late-night video calls where you’d ask for his feedback, exhaustion clear in your voice but determination burning brighter.

now, under the bright lights, you’re a force of nature. his fingers tighten around the plush as you execute your combination spin flawlessly, the audience holding their breath. the precision, the grace, the fire—it’s all you, everything he’s always admired.

it takes him back to those late-night practices, the way you’d always push yourself harder than anyone else.

“take a break,” he’d told you once after watching you repeat a spin until your legs gave out.

“i can’t,” you’d said, brushing the ice off your knees. “not until i get it right.”

you’ve always had that fire, and watching it burn so brightly now fills him with pride.

the final note of your music swells, and you glide into your ending pose, your arms outstretched, your expression radiant. the arena erupts in applause, and sunghoon is on his feet in an instant, cheering louder than anyone else.

and then it’s time.

he leans over the barrier, grinning as he tosses the stuffed toy onto the ice. it lands perfectly at your feet, just as it always does, and your eyes find his immediately. the smile you send his way is brighter than any light in the arena, and it makes every second of missed sleep, every rushed flight, and every hectic rehearsal worth it.

when you step off the ice, the plush is in your hand, and your eyes are already searching for him. he doesn’t have to wait long—you throw your arms around him as soon as you spot him backstage.

“you made it,” you breathe, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

“of course i did,” he says, holding you close. “what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t show up for my girl?”

you laugh, pulling back just enough to look at him, your cheeks flushed from the performance. “you always find a way, even when you’re so busy.”

“i’d drop everything if it meant being here,” he replies, brushing a stray hair from your face. “you know that.”

your grip on the plush tightens as you glance down at it, a soft smile on your lips. “still my good luck charm.”

“always,” he says with a grin. “but let’s be real—you don’t need it. you’re amazing all on your own.”

you roll your eyes playfully, but the warmth in your gaze is unmistakable. and as you lean into him, sunghoon wraps his arms around you, knowing that no matter how hectic life gets, this is where he’ll always want to be—cheering for you, throwing down that same stuffed toy, and being the person who gets to witness you shine.

perm taglist.@honeybelleee @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone (open!) requests. open!

©levandright

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thewritetofreespeech · 2 days ago

Note

Can I please request Astarion with a flirty yet oblivious plus size Tav? In the way that they do flirt because it's fun and light like their companions/friends with benefits thing, but they think that their feelings are unrequited (because of some slight insecurity about their size) until Astarion is like I actually like you and Tav is like '???' (Idk if that makes sense lol) Thank you!

-------------------------------🩸-------------------------------

“So, Astarion, what is your actual type?”

“My ‘type’,” Astarion repeated at Shadowheart’s question as they traveled, “is such a broad prevue. I can’t think to narrow it down to just a single collection of words.”

“That’s a unique way to say you’re a trollop.”

Tav snickered at Shadowhearts retort, getting a stern glare from Astarion. “What? It was funny?”

“Pft. And here I was going to say you, my dear, but if you’re going to be so incredibly cruel.”

“Aw shucks. Always a bridesmaid I suppose.”

During their journey together, Tav had grown very fond of Astarion. He was a little shit, but deep down he was very funny and undeniably charming (although not for the ways he tried to be). The two of you had picked up a friendly banter over your time together, sometimes even flirty, but only that. And Tav was fine with that. Well aware that a handsome rake like Astarion could have his pick of the litter, and they were just happy to be considered a friend.

Later that night, while everyone was finishing their day and slinking off to bed, Astarion came over to Tav by the fire to sit with them. “You know I really meant it earlier by the way.”

“Meant what?” Tav asked. Lost, by this point, on what he was talking about.

“That you’re my….‘type’.” He seemed loathed to use the word. Even scrunched his nose. Tav just laughed.

“Yeah. Right. I’m sure.”

“No, really, I mean it.” He insisted.

“Come on Astarion, the only way you’d be interested in me is because I’m a a keg instead of a flagon.” Tav gestured to themselves and their full frame. “I have ample blood to spare.”

Astarion frowned. “Yes, your blood is certainly a bonus, but that isn’t why I care for you.” He huffed and crossed his arms dramatically. “Honestly, why does everyone think I’m not being serious when I am?” Astarion asked with a bit of flabbergast. “Is it something about my expression?”

Tav looked more than a bit flabbergasted at his remark. They didn’t really think they liked them….that way. Friends sure. Allies, of course. But romantically? “You…really have feelings for me?”

“Ugh! What is it with you new generation and wanting to put a name to everything?” Astarion bemoaned. “Feelings. Type. Can’t we just enjoy this for whatever…this is? All I know is that out of all the people in this whole wicked world I would want to be stuck with, it’s you.”

“Gee, that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Tav teased.

Astarion frowned again, but then leaned in close to Tav so all they could see was his piercing red eyes. “I could wax poems for you, if you’d prefer. How your eyes are the stars. How your curves are roads I would never get tired of roaming. How your ample bosom feels like a place to call home. All true, but you’re so much more to me than that.” He moved back to sit in his original spot. Wrapping his arms around his knees at his chest as he looked into the fire. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted in…well ever. You mean more to me than just your body. Though, again, that is certainly a bonus. I had hoped….you feel the same about me.”

Tav blushed, but then quickly gathered their voice and told him, “yes! Of course.”

Astarion seemed relieved. Then leaned over to give Tav a simple, sweet peck on the cheek. “Good. Now, get some sleep. We’ll probably have a completely eventful day tomorrow as well. You’ll need your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course. I’ll keep watch until the morning.”

Tav smiled, blushed again, and then went to their bed roll. Tentative in accepting Astarion’s confession & feelings, but hopeful it was all true. Perhaps, for once, they could really be the bride instead of the bridesmaid.

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xoxoavenger · 1 day ago

Text

The Devil You Forgot

pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N gets captured by a group of demons with a strange pattern.

word count: 2506

warnings: canon typical injuries, low-grade torture (like punching and non-graphic knife stuff)

a new player has entered the ring. welcome to the party, Dean Winchester

masterlist

"It's almost like you don't think I can handle myself."

"You know that's not true."

"Okay, then let me go."

"Y/N,"

"Dean," Y/N took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't hurt her boyfriend in the next couple seconds. "Babe, it's just food. I think I can pull it off." Dean breathed through his nose and pulled his lips in, and she knew this wasn't the last of their argument.

"You don't understand. These are-"

"Demons?" She cuts him off, wanting to slap him. "You mean the same creatures I've killed multiple of? By myself? Or is there a new breed that I'm unaware of?" She steps forward, and Dean takes a step back. He's been slapped by her before, he knows when he's crossed a line.

"I just want you to be safe, that's all." He says with his hands up. She rolls her eyes, grabs her Glock loaded with the demon-trap bullets she carved herself, and walks out.

"Oh man, you really handled that well." Sam says from his spot on his bed, computer in his lap. Dean lifts his head up and looked at the ceiling, wondering why his girlfriend was so hellbent on going to the diner alone. She doesn't need to, they could use this as some alone time, but no, God forbid Dean ever gets any alone time with her.

"These demons are just smart, is all. Smarter than the ones we usually fight. It'd be better to go in pairs." Dean tells his brother, who just shakes his head as he goes back to tapping away on his computer. They were trying to figure out why the demons would be here, in the middle of nowhere, Texas. So far, Sam didn't have any leads at all, but it wasn't like Dean was helping.

"She'll be fine, you know her. She's great at this stuff." Sam offhandedly said. Dean knows he's right, and that's what makes him upset.

"I know, but why would she not want me to come with?" Dean asks, shucking off his jacket and sitting on his bed. He puts his head in his hands, not sure what to do alone.

"Holy shit," Sam says, causing Dean to look over. His brother is staring at the laptop, concern etched on his face.

"What? What did you find?" Dean moves over, wanting to see the action.

"I'm comparing all the victims," Sam starts, grabbing some papers of the missing and murdered people. "I mean, we knew they were all women, but I just found this article about Fatima, and apparently her boyfriend had just asked her dad for permission."

"Permission for what?" Dean asked, and Sam almost hit him for the stupid question.

"To marry her, dumbass." Sam said, and Dean just blinks. "And when we went to the Kapnen's house, Loreli's sister said that her boyfriend was planning on proposing. Had the ring and everything."

"Fuck," Dean mutters, getting off the bed. He's in a daze as he begins to grab his jacket.

"But why are the demons taking women who are about to be engaged? How would they even know?" Sam is still looking through the town's papers online, trying to see if there was anything about the third missing woman.

"We have to find Y/N." Dean growls, emotion threatening to crawl up his throat. He's pulling it back, making sure to bottle that shit up for another time; this is something he's usually great at, but right now he's having trouble forcing the emotion down.

"What? Why? I just told you that the demons are going after women who are about to be engaged." Now Sam's the one who's about to be slapped, and he feels sick as he realizes what Dean is about to say just before he says it. His eyes go wide, even before his brother turns around.

"Sam, Y/N is about to be engaged." Dean holds up a box he's been carrying around for approximately half a year, on the inside pocket of his jacket so Y/N couldn't feel it.

"Shit."

Y/N's not quite sure how the demons got the up on her, but she's now in some dingy warehouse basement with a bag over her head. She owes Dean a big apology and probably some sort of makeup-food-sex that she's been denying him for about a year.

They take the bag off and it scratches her face. Her hands are tied behind her back, her legs tied to the legs of the chair. Her mouth has also been bound, and she thinks the demons expected her to have been crying. But she stares at them angrily, blinking as they all furrow their eyebrows.

One of them slaps her, hard, and she keeps her head turned that way so they don't see the tears brimming. She will not cry in front of these demons, even if the moisture in her eyes is soley from the shock of nerves on her face.

"Feisty one, she is." One of them growls, and she smirks through the mouth binding as she turns back to them.

"Let's see if that mouth has the same attitude?" Another demon says, and she accidentally winces as they roughly rip the gag from her jaw. She cocks her head as she rights herself, wishing she could brush the hair out of her face.

"Why so quiet, honey?" Another demon smirks, grabbing her face. She looks around and realizes they're all men, which is a little weird for demons. They usually come in different genders, but she doesn't have time to think about why. She goes back to staring at the man holding her, maintaining eye contact. "What, you don't have anything to say?"

"You haven't asked me anything, dumbass." She grunts out, ripping her face from him. He just leans back as his friends seem to think that was at least a little funny, if the smiles on their faces are anything to go by.

"We don't need to ask anything, sweetheart." A demon said, and she just frowned sarcastically.

"Right, okay." She nods, laughing just to piss them all off. "Then what am I here for? Is it because you want him to come here? Because believe me, this little trap wouldn't have fooled him even when he was a teenager. So I'm gonna give you the chance to untie me and maybe he'll let you live. But even then, I honestly don't know that he will." They all stare at her, before one starts laughing and sets them all into a bought of laughter. She just blinks, not sure what they're laughing at. Is this not a trap? They have to know who Dean is, what he'll do to them.

"You stupid bitch." One of them laughs, and then he flicks a knife open. She lets her eyes widen a little bit, but besides that she doesn't move, not wanting to give anything away. She can't help the whimper that escapes when he snatches her jaw, squeezing too hard and pulling her head to the side so that her neck is exposed. The horrible thought creeps in that they're going to slit her throat, and she can't even wiggle out of these stupid cords around her wrists because her legs are still tied to metal and she would just be dead before she could take a step.

The blade slices across her collarbone, and she grits her teeth. She will not scream, she refuses to, but she lets out a grunt of pain. Her breathing is more like a wheeze through her teeth, and she doesn't even notice that they've finished slicing into her until the demon lets her head go. She lets it drop and then picks it up immediately, taking in a deep breath and looking at the other demons, forcing herself to smile.

"What're you smilin' about, darlin'?" Another one asks, and she doesn't let herself falter even as the cut burns her skin and the blood drips down her chest.

"You either want something from me, or you like playing with your food." She says. She's just stalling until Dean gets there, which should be soon knowing her boyfriend. "Which is fine, I'm not kink shaming you. But come on, it's like you don't know who I am." This earns her a hard punch to the face, one that leaves her seeing stars. She's pretty sure she blacks out for a moment, neck stretching and causing her cut to pull open more. She hisses, keeping everything else inside. She doesn't breathe until she can feel her face again, pain radiating through her eye socket and cheek bone.

"How's that for playing with food?" A demon asks, but this time before she can respond she's being hit again by another demon.

"Got a leftie. Helpful, don't ya think?" He says, and Y/N can feel the blood on her cheek as she hits the cut on her chest with her chin. She yelps, but tries to laugh it off.

Dean will be here soon. He's gotta be close.

"What's so goddamn funny?" One of them asks, and she just shakes her head as much as she can.

"He's gonna kill you." She tries to take pleasure through the pain, but someone with a bunch of fucking rings decides to hit her and she whimpers in pain. She can't scream, can't let them have it.

"Who is?" One of them chuckles - the one with the knife. She looks at the knife for only a moment before she looks back at the monster's face. "Your fiancé?" They all laugh, and she would crinkle her eyes in confusion if one weren't swollen shut.

"He isn't my fiancé," She says first, not sure why she feels the need to tell the demons of all creatures. She's about to tell them just who she's dating when they all start laughing like she said the funniest joke ever.

"Not yet, isn't that right?" One yells to the others, who continue their laughter. He turns to her, sighing and wiping his tears away. He leans against the back of Y/N's chair, knife pressing into her left cheek. She breathes in through her teeth as she tenses, feeling the knife break the skin. "You boyfriend hasn't popped the question. But he's had that damn thing for - how long did you say it was, Kaleb?" He turns back, and a demon on the side has a face red with laughter.

"Seven months!" He screams, and Y/N forgets about the pain for a moment. She looks at them all, not sure if they're telling the truth or not. She would have noticed, right? With the amount of hotels they're in and out of and the fact that they have shared a bed for years now. She would have noticed at the bunker, because they share a room, and she's sure there's not a hiding place she doesn't know of. She doesn't remember what it's like to sleep on her own, and Dean doesn't sleep in sweatpants. So where was he keeping it? If, of course, he actually had it. Because demons lie.

And it's not like she was expecting Dean to ask. She knows he wants it - the whole American Dream, Nuclear Family shit - but he hasn't talked about it, so she assumed he wasn't ready. She knew he didn't want a family while he was hunting, which may mean never, but she also knows that Dean wants to be with her forever. So yeah, she thought about it, but she didn't want to push him.

"You're lying." She chuckled, face hurting as it scrunched. "You must have the wrong man. His name is Dean Winchester, may have heard of him?" Where is he?

"Wait," The demon in front of her pauses, and she's a little confused why they're not laughing anymore. Did they actually have the wrong man? The demon turns to one other demon in particular, who looks like he's about to piss his pants. "The man you've been watching is Dean fucking Winchester?" He screams, and Y/N blinks in surprise; they actually didn't know it was Dean.

"I only knew his name, not what he looked like! How was I supposed to know that idiot was him?" The demon hissed, and they looked actually scared.

"We're dead." One of others said, a hand going to cover his mouth. "He's gonna kill us all. He's probably already here-" The demon cuts himself off as blood starts to pour from his chest, light exploding from the space. He falls to the ground, and there Dean is, looking like the righteous hand of God. Blood is splattered over his face, but he's not hurt at all.

"He said it, darlin'," Y/N laughs, even though it hurts. "You're dead."

Dean uses the knife, and just the knife, to go through each demon. Y/N can feel her skull pounding, and by the time Dean gets over to her she has her head bowed.

"I'm here, baby, I'm here." He mutters to her, immediately cutting her bindings. He sees the leg bindings and knows that they did it so she couldn't slip out. He cuts those first, then moves up.

"Dean," She whispers, still not lifting her head. When he cuts her wrists she falls forward, and he grabs her.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Get up, baby, come on." He holds her, one hand moving to her face to lift it up. "Oh, I'm gonna summon those sons of bitches to kill them again." He mutters as he takes in her wounds. He killed them with the demon knife, so he couldn't anyway, but it's a nice sentiment.

"Do you have a ring?" She asks, hoping he understands through the mottled words she was able to gargle out around the pain.

"What?" He heard her, but he's hoping her didn't actually hear her. "Come on, let's go, sweetheart. I gotcha." He kisses her forehead and begins to help her up, and she never breaks eye contact with him.

"Dean," She grabs onto his jacket with one hand, breathing heavily. He pauses, holding her as he surveys her injuries. She's got a couple cuts, bruises across her face, and he wants to stick the knife into himself for letting her go alone. "What's this?" She smiles crookedly, holding up the box that she had snagged from his pocket. He can't help but let his jaw drop slightly, shocked she slipped one by on him.

"You should give that back so I don't have to do this in a goddamn demon lair," He tries to smirk, but his heart is racing. He can tell his hand is shaking when she hands the box back, and he puts it in his pocket quickly before he starts helping her walk out of there.

"You're not even gonna let me see it?" She whines, and he just laughs into the cool air as they walk out the door.

"Not until we have a case on the coast." He tells her, helping her into the car.

"Fuck!" She yells, half a laugh behind it. "I'm never getting married!"

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction

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hyuuukais · 1 day ago

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⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general, cannibalism kind of, reader gets beaten up roughly, generally a pretty heavy chapter overall 🥲

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER SIX ▪︎EAT OR BE EATEN (8.3k)

"You think they'll put up a good fight? One satisfying enough?" The woman asks, her silver hair shining in the moonlight. "Last few we found were pretty disappointing."

"Eh, I'm sure they'll be good enough," The man shrugs, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. You quickly shut your eyes fully so he thinks you're still knocked out. "Besides, even if they don't last long at least we won't have to worry about feeding people for a while longer."

"I guess," She sighs. "Kinda wish we got that pretty boy you were talking about."

"This one's alright."

You hear her snort and feel a bit offended for Han; he's way more than 'alright'. Who said that? A blush creeps up your neck at the sudden question of Han's attractiveness, so you push it out of your mind.

The van jerks and comes to a sudden stop, the man clearing his throat roughly as he steps out, and you dare to open an eye. In front of you is a kind of side-of-the-road type diner crawling with people. Although the building is in rough shape, you can almost picture how it must have looked pre-apocalypse with people stopping from all over for a quick bite to eat. Your mouth waters at the thought of all the types of fried foods they likely had, not having realized how long it had been since you ate last, and your stomach growled. Han looks over at you, no longer pretending to be out cold, and you spot where he was hit in the eyebrow. The skin is split from just under his brow bone to just above the short hairs. Without much medical attention, it'll scar noticeably for sure. Dried blood covers most of his eyelid and under his eye, coming to a stop just short of his mouth.

Han is pulled out of the van before you, a pair of hands reaching in and yanking him by the collar. He stumbles, falling into the gravel driveway at someone's feet. While you're distracted, another pair of hands come for you the same way, but you're somehow able to stay upright. Balance is one of your stronger suits, along with your excellent aim that leads to a swift and accurate kick behind you, landing right between the man's legs. You smirk as you hear him grunt, but it drops from your face when you're met with another rough pair of hands pushing you against the van, hot breath on your neck and body covering your own.

"Wanna try that again?" Silence. "Didn't think so."

In your peripheral vision, you can see Han being led to the diner, but he's fighting the woman holding him and keeps trying to look in your direction. The way she's got him makes this difficult, but he keeps trying and you can hear him call out your name with a slight edge to it. You think back to when you first left town, sitting in the back of the truck and watching Han silently panic on the far end. You remember trying to distract him and the way you comforted each other. All you can see from here is his struggle, but you're sure he's experiencing something very similar now.

"Let me calm him down!" You plead, desperate. "Please, I know I can and we'll both be much more compliant after, okay?"

You feel the grip on you loosen, letting you fall to your knees. He signals for the woman to bring him over and she obliges reluctantly, shoving him in front of you. Having your hands bound makes it difficult for you, knowing that if you could just touch him, remind him he's real, it would be so much easier. But you can't, so words will have to do.

"Han?" You try. He's looking at you, but his eyes are unfocused. "Jisung?"

This seems to bring him back, eyes snapping to yours. "Y/n."

"Listen to me." You talk low. "We are going to get out of this. Even if they separate us, I'll find my way back to you. Don't lose hope, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Han takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "We'll be okay."

You're about to say something else when a crackling noise comes from his back pocket- the walkie-talkie. How is it even working this far out?

"Crrk-- Han? You there? Over." It sounds, barely audible.

"What's this?" The man walks away from you and behind Han, reaching into the pocket and bringing out the device.

"Crrk-- Han? It's Seungmin. Did you find Y/n yet? You've been gone for hours, we're starting to get really worried, but you didn't hear that from me. Over --crrk."

"Seungmin?" The man speaks into the device.

"Who is this? And say 'over' when you're done, asshat --crrk."

"Who I am isn't important, but who I've got might be... to you." Even with his back facing you, you can still picture the smirk on his face as he speaks. "Over."

"You can have them." It's a new voice that takes you a moment to place- Hyunjin. Dread pools in your belly. "Crrk-- we don't --crrk-- anyway. Do what you --crrk-- want. Over."

"Sounds like your end is dying, too bad. Not for me, I was gonna destroy this thing anyway. Here's a sign your people are still alive before I cut the line." The man shoves the walkie-talkie in your face. "Talk."

Part of you doesn't want to and the other part straight up can't, voice stuck in your throat. Speaking would prove what he wants, leading the others to you if they're able to find out where you are. With both Seungmin and Jeongin's map skills combined, they'd be here in no time and it'd be all your fault when you watch each of them die one by one at the hands of these people. Why kill others when the infected are already doing it for you? You don't understand. In an act of defiance, which you'll surely later regret, you spit at his feet.

"You don't want to talk? Fine, have it your way. Niko?" The woman yanks your head back by your hair, pressing the tip of a blade to your throat. As he thumbs over the button, 'Niko' digs deeper, running it down from your jaw to your collarbone. She makes it down an inch or so before you cry out in pain. This is what they want, and the knife is taken away.

"Y/n?" It's Hyunjin again. "Y/n! You're okay- you scared the shit out of us and-"

His voice dies out with a crunch, bits of plastic ground up under the man's boot, the little bit of hope you had in the back of your throat dying with it. Not that you want them to find you, not here where the people are more dangerous than the zombies and where your small group would be severely outnumbered and overpowered. There's a tinge of guilt sitting inside you for that small part that did want to be found, wanting to be rescued and taken away from the horrors of this place so far.

With another pull of your hair, the dread is beginning to overflow. Stray hairs fly into your face as you're marched inside the diner. To the left are about five or six trailers parked with people lounging around, seemingly unaware of the apocalypse. They drink and they laugh and someone's barbequing- your stomach growls again at the smell.

"Hungry?" The man asks, but you don't answer, keeping your eyes ahead as you walk inside. "Don't worry, you'll be eating good soon. We feed our guests, need you strong."

Surprisingly gently, you're placed on a stool by the counter of the diner, two stools between you and Han. Glancing over, you catch his eye and don't let go until there's a plate in front of you with meat steaming fresh from the grill, a couple of small, chopped-up vegetable on the side. Your hands are unbound for you to eat, given a plastic fork and knife. Obviously, they don't trust you with anything else, but you're also so used to eating with your fingers that you forgot utensils were a thing in the first place, putting the piece of meat down and picking up the fork. The meat leaves a strange aftertaste in your throat, and your stomach turns as you swallow the last piece. Something isn't right, but you don't even want to ask.

"Put 'em away in the empty trailer. Tonight they can stay together under supervision before we start our fun in the morning." The woman's words worry you, but you don't think about them too long, drowsiness settling in.

God knows how long it's been since you last slept, too preoccupied with taking care of Chan after the hospital. Even when you weren't the one keeping watch, you were too on edge because of everything that happened with Hyunjin, tossing and turning for the hour you were supposed to be resting. The trailer they put you in is on the smaller side, counters bare and only one pull-out couch still folded into itself. Neither the man nor the woman who abducted you were watching over for the night, but another shorter woman with a large gun. She picks at her teeth with a wooden toothpick, leaning against the counter after pulling the couch out. She gestures you to step forward and you do, her hands quickly unbounding yours for the second time. Next, she unties Han and pushes both of you to the couch.

"Sleep." She says.

"But- it's kind of small..." Han's voice turns quiet, the woman glaring at him. "I mean, it's perfect. Um, Y/n? I can sleep on the floor if you want instead."

"No, no, don't." You shake your head. "I will."

"Both of you shut up and sleep on the bed," She snaps. "We need you ready for tomorrow."

"What exactly is happening tomorrow?" You ask, rubbing your wrists. They sting from where the rope sliced into the skin.

"No one told you?" Her eyebrows raise at your blank expressions. "You're going to be fighting in the arena."

"Arena?" Han tilts his head in confusion.

"With zombies. They really didn't tell you?" She scoffs, taking a seat on top of the counter. "Whatever, not my job to say anything, so just go to bed." With a smirk, she adds, "And maybe say a prayer."

Nothing else would have been less comforting to hear.

Sleep doesn't come easy, restless turning and maneuvering your body so as to not wake Han, if he was even asleep. His back is turned to you when your eyes settle on him, giving up on sleep entirely. The window above the pull-out couch is covered by blinds, but a piece is chipped and you can see into the starry night sky, fingers coming up to fiddle with your necklace. For the first time that night, Han stirs. Suddenly you're face to face with him, looking at each other with sad eyes.

"Can't sleep?" He whispers, barely audible to avoid being heard by the woman watching over you. You're sure she's stopped paying attention hours ago.

"No," You whisper back, turning fully on your side.

There's a lack of space between you, noses almost touching and breath mingling. Despite the apocalypse, Han still manages to have a tinge of mint in his breath, and you know it's from the mint leaves he collects in a tin. The scent is faded, probably from one he was chewing when he found you, but it brings a little comfort from before.

"C'mere," He stretches an arm out. "You look cold."

And you are, you realize, goosebumps prickling at your skin as you shuffle closer in the dark. His body is warm, enveloping you in a hug and burying your face into his neck. From here, you can hear and feel his heartbeat, the steady rhythm present in your cheek. You sigh, taking in this one normal moment between you two. Neither of you know what will happen in the morning, only that whatever it is, it's not going to be good. Hell, you might not live past the 'event'. As long as you can somehow get Han out of here, you don't think you care.

Morning comes quicker than expected, having managed to find sleep in Han's arms. Rough hands drag you from not-so-sweet dreams, tying your hands back up and leading you out toward the diner. Once again, you're separated from Han as he's led off in a different direction around the back of the building. You catch a glimpse when you're shoved through the diner doors, pushed behind the counter, and brought to the kitchen. Right before you enter the kitchen, you take a look through the back windows and spot what must be the arena; a wooden oval built by this group, or so you assume. There are bleachers with spectators already sitting on them, and you spot Han. The man who has him opens a door on one end of the oval, shoving him inside, and you can only hope he'll be okay.

The kitchen tiles are cold, and you're being bound to metal shelving closer to the back. You have no idea what's to come, but the man who brought you here comes into view, grabbing your face and bringing it up to meet his eyes. He says nothing, just moves your head from left to right, making a noise of approval. With a pat to the cheek, he straightens his back and stretches, cracks loud in the otherwise silent room.

"You ever wonder what it's like to turn? To lose control of your body and senses, lose sense of yourself in every meaning?" He kneels to eye level with you. "Because you're about to find out once your little friend is done in there. Unless you want to join us?"

"And why would I do that?" You spit.

"We know how to be immune." He says, voice shallow. Your eyes widen; there's no way to become immune, you know that. "Ah, you don't believe me? Well, you see here, there was a time me and my crew weren't as big, as powerful. We became desperate, and you know what they say." He lifts his hands in air quotations. "'Desperate times call for desperate measures'. It's true, but then we discovered something huge."

"Are you going to tell me what it is, or are you going to sit here and spew bullshit about how amazing you are?" You roll your eyes.

His eyes narrow at your words. "Feisty."

"Whatever." You mumble.

"The trick is to eat or be eaten." He says, standing back to his full height. "It's like building an immunity to an allergy. Eat enough of it, it'll stop affecting you." He starts to walk away, pausing at the swinging door with a look over his shoulder. "Makes you wonder what you've eaten."

About an hour or so later, Han is harshly thrown into your sight line. There's a new rip in the shoulder of his light green t-shirt over his chest, and you catch a glimpse of the shallow wound underneath, no doubt from the zombies the woman mentioned to you. Before you can say anything to him, you're pulled away, everything happening too quickly. Fresh air hits you with a chill, although not from the temperature. Han didn't look too bad, only a little beat up, and he wasn't expected to make it out either, so the challenge must not be so hard? Right?

As you circle to the side of the arena with the door for challengers, you notice other locked doors blending into the wooden sides. You're placed in complete darkness as the door is shut behind you, left to wonder what you'll face on the other side. It takes a few moments, but the door leading to the inside is lifted upward, sun burning your eyes temporarily. Holding a hand up to block the sudden light, you step out and people cheer loudly. You look up to see someone holding the door up from the bleachers by a long rope, noticing matching doors lined up the inner walls of the arena. There's no guessing what lies behind them, obviously the zombies as the grass field is clear of threats. Inside the arena is bigger than it looks from the outside, a wide stretch of patchy grass ahead of you. One door on the far end opens, and your suspicions are confirmed as a zombie comes tumbling out. It spots you instantly, darting toward you with a surprisingly quick pace.

No weapons, no backup- all you have are your fists. With a wide stance, you prepare to take it down, thinking back to fighting Seungmin on the mats. Sweat drips down your back; you were never as good as him in a fistfight. The infected rapidly approaches, but when it swings for you, the movement is sluggish and tired, a low groan emitting from the being.

"That all you got?" You dodge another attack, landing a kick in it's back and knocking it down.

Wrapping an arm around its neck, you pull back and hear it choke. The arms twist behind to grab you, but you step down on each limb, effectively straddling the infected. Too distracted by killing this one, you don't notice another zombie has been released behind you until the whiny moan that erupts from its throat signals its approach. At the last second you can be sure the one you're on is dead, you push yourself forward and somersault, creating room between you and the second one as it swings for you. It lands on top of the other body; this is too easy. Two are released at the same time now, easy enough to take down on your own. The problem is when the last four are brought out.

When you were alone taking down groups of three or four at the house, you had your knives to help you, but here? And, of course, they're the doors closest to you, taking even less time to reach you than the previous ones. The problem- you're getting tired. The rough night of sleep, the lack of food in your belly, the emotional drainage; it's all catching up to you now.

You run to the opposite side of the arena, testing the wood at the base. It doesn't break, ruining your plan to take the jagged piece and stick it through their skulls. Turning around, you're faced with two out of four hungry faces, eager to taste you. Taking the one on the left first, you circle around and let it come to you. It stumbles, limps, drool runs down its face. But you notice it hasn't moved its arms at all, not once since following you- they don't work. You knew paralyzation was possible with the zombie virus, you just had yet to see it in person. When it gets close enough, you grab the arms and use them as support as you kick up to its chest, successfully breaking the weak ribs and hollowing it out with your foot. The zombie falls to the ground; your foot still in its chest, and you take it out with a squelch. Reaching into the gooey blood, you pull a sharpened rib out.

The second and third are closer now, but you're more than prepared to take them on now. You grab another two broken ribs, hoping they're strong enough to pierce skin. The right one lurches forward with sudden force, but you're quicker and use the advantage of its awkward movements to drive one rib into the back of its neck- the crowd boos. The other takes a hold of your arm, but you pull away and out of its grip, leaving you with an angry, red scratch mark. Without much thought, you dig another rib into its eye.

As you're getting ready to kill the last one, a whistle blows over the crowd. You look around confused, wondering why the bleachers are being emptied. Someone comes out onto the field with a metal claw type thing, attempting to wrangle the last remaining infected. They've thoroughly pissed you off, so you decide it's time for a small taste of payback. Before the claw can wrap around the neck of the zombie, you run up and stick the last rib into the side of the throat. When it drops, you spot the guy with the claw's shoulders dropping with a heavy sigh.

"Tonight, we are celebrating our first ever champions of the arena!" The man who kidnapped you stands on the counter in the diner, holding up an unlabeled bottle containing a dark liquid. "No one has made it past that little event, but these two sure put up a fight. To- shit, what are your names again?" You open your mouth to answer, but he speaks again. "Ehh, who cares? To them!"

Everyone in the diner cheers, or almost everyone. Niko is in a booth in the corner staring daggers into his back as he steps down with some help from two others. He's walking over to your booth by the front door to hand you both a bottle, each matching his, and a hard hit on the back. Nearly choking on your drink, you put a hand against the table and swallow the bitter taste as he watches, giving him a weak smile and a thumbs up.

"That's homemade," He says, sticking his chest out with pride. "My own recipe, in fact. Listen, tonight you can stay in that same trailer, but we won't watch you. Of course, we have to take precautions and lock you in, but hey! A bit more privacy to do whatever you want!"

With a wink directed at Han, he leaves to sit at the table with Niko. You see her lean back and cross her arms as he approaches, huffing as he starts to talk. Their conversation is drowned out by the chatter happening around you; you're surprised no infected are swarming the place with how loud it is. Han takes a swig of his drink, making a face as he swallows, and you can't help but laugh.

"It's bad-" You say as he puts down the drink.

"It's really bad-" He agrees, sliding the bottle to the edge of the table.

There's a moment of normality between you, the absurd situation you're in running to the furthest corner of your brain as you share a laugh and a bad drink with someone whom you might dare to call a friend. No one bats an eye when you drop your bottle, only having a broom handed over by a gruff man who was previously sitting behind the counter serving people. After cleaning up the shards of broken glass, you decide maybe that's enough excitement for tonight when you stumble walking to the trash can sitting next to a broken jukebox on the wall opposite from you.

A hand comes up to hold you up as your own hits the wall, taking a second before moving away to see Han looking down at you. He's close, closer than you think you've ever been with him, and his hands are warm on your body. There's a small smile creeping onto your face that you can't hide when his arm wraps around your shoulders and guides you out into the chilly air. You didn't realize how cold it was getting recently, crisp air seizing your lungs for a brief moment. The trailers seem to get both closer and further away with each step, sounds of the diner becoming more muffled as you go. Once inside the trailer, you kick your boots off and flop onto the bed stomach first while Han clicks the door shut behind you. Old springs digging into your every body part has never felt so good.

You survived another day! Tomorrow feels light years away as you burrow your head into a limp pillow, sighing happily. Maybe this is what you needed- something to wake you back up from the defeat that's been consuming you, something to sharpen your brain and your instincts like training did. You can picture yourself here now, fighting more pet zombies if they'll let you, belly full with the never-ending supply of food they seem to have, thirst quenched by the homemade alcohol you're sure will kill you if you have too much. Here, you aren't a burden anymore. You're a champion, a warrior, someone to look up to and fear. No more worrying the others and having them think you'll get them all killed.

"I think I could get used to this." You talk into the night, forgetting about the man sitting by the foot of the bed.

Han looks over your weary body, hand hovering over your head as he debates moving the stray hairs away and examining your now near sleeping face. Pulling away, he places his hands in his lap. The scrape on his chest burns slightly, but the buzz of the drinks dulls the pain both physically and mentally.

"They're gonna make us fight again tomorrow," He says quietly.

You sit up, his words instantly sobering you up. "They are? How do you know that?"

"Niko told me after dragging my ass out of the arena. Didn't give any details though." Han takes his place next to you, stretching his sore body. "Don't die."

"You have so little faith in me." You scoff, but lie next to him with a smile on your face.

Morning arrives sooner than you would have liked, sunbeams shining through the cracks of the broken blinds above the pull-out couch you lie on next to Han. At some point during the night, your limbs became entangled in each other, one of his legs between yours, your own hugging his tightly. His arm is thrown across your shoulders, holding you against his chest, and your left hand is holding his wrist. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing against your back, and for a moment it feels like everything is fine. What's the apocalypse when you have someone you trust holding you like he's scared you'll be gone when he opens his eyes?

When did you start trusting Han Jisung?

The moment of serenity is broken by Niko banging on the side of your trailer, entering with no warning, and dragging you both out of bed. You want to laugh at the way Han's hair is sticking up and the way his cheeks are puffed out in annoyance, but you know better than to do that in her presence. There's a chill in the air as you step out and walk toward the diner, goosebumps rising all over your skin. Winter is coming soon, and you hope you'll be somewhere warm when it hits full force.

"You, take him to the back. You know the drill." Niko hands Han off to the shorter woman who watched over you the night before and she nods, shoving Han through the doorway.

Niko leads you around to the arena and you see people are already starting to gather. Excitement is palpable, making you nervous to see what's in store today. Yesterday wasn't like this; there wasn't the same kind of anticipation, but today is something new. You assumed last night that people don't tend to live past the first round, a reason for the celebration, and now they have to be creative when trying to kill you.

The door shuts behind you loudly. You start giving yourself a bit of a pep talk, expecting to be met with a large group of zombies once the gate is lifted, but instead, you see a large wall. Standing up straighter, you notice there's a fork, you can head either left or right. You let a hand trail against the wall as you turn right, met with more twists and turns the deeper you go. You're in some kind of homemade labyrinth. After a few more turns, you stumble into a zombie, right into a zombie. It has you pinned against the ground and you're starting to understand how this round is going to go as you flip over and grip its neck. Something about this zombie is oddly familiar, and then the recognition hits you. He's someone you saw in the audience during the first round.

When you glanced up nearing the end to see people leave, you noticed one pair of people stay put. An older man with a boy younger than you, the boy's eyes wide with fear as he watched you rip the rib bones out of an infected. How many more rounds did these people set up after you and Han? And how many others survived? Considering they only celebrated you and Han, you're guessing the answer is none. Including the boy under you, now lying still as you pant above him. There's something tucked into his waistband glinting in the sun, revealed to you as you stand and his flannel is pushed off his side. A knife.

"Holy fuck!" You squeal, ripping it out of his pants.

It's a basic steak knife, but way better than having nothing, and you've always been better with weapons than with your bare hands, as proven by Seungmin time and time again on the training mats. An aching pang hits you as you reminisce, missing Seungmin more than you thought you did. There's been a whole day since you last saw or heard from him, longer than you've ever gone without him. You imagine he's doing much better than you right now, still having Jeongin and the others to keep him occupied. They must still be at the country house, Chan too wounded to move. Hyunjin's adrenaline has probably worn off by now, weary and in need of medication and care provided by your resident doctors. Or, in Felix's case, resident doctors in training.

Continuing on through the labyrinth, you slaughter more zombies you come across, groups varying in size. Some are alone like the first boy, and others are clustered in duos or trios. After what feels like forever, you collapse at the entrance of what looks to be the middle of the maze. Your mouth is dry, begging for water, and your stomach rumbles as you lean against the wall and wipe sweat from your forehead. It's been hours, you think, hours since they locked you in this maze to be tortured by infected, and by your own mind as well. Thinking of Seungmin unlocked all kinds of feelings you've been trying to shove away. Missing him, missing Minho, feelings of hurt and sadness from what Hyunjn said to you. Regret for not letting Seungmin bring you back and for causing Han to be caught up in all of this with you. You're fighting back tears as you crawl toward a podium in the centre of the circle you've entered.

The podium is simple, solid dark wood splintering along the edges with a key lying on top. You figure you're supposed to take this, tucking it into your pants pocket. Where the key goes, you'll find out. There are four exits out of the circle of grass you stand in, the one you're facing leading back to where you came from. You turn around, assuming this must be the way to go, but are stopped by zombies shuffling out. You're feeling weak, using the podium to keep you up as they come closer and closer. As one reaches you, you fling yourself to the side and let it hit the piece of wood, hard enough you hear a crack, and roll around to see a split in the side where the worse of the splintering is. A jagged piece comes out on an angle, stabbing the infected in the leg. The other four are approaching quickly, and you barely escape one about to pin you to the ground. Using the force of the roll to push up, you slip your knife into your hand and stab the closest one in the neck, blood spilling onto you and soaking the dark material of your t-shirt.

With one zombie seemingly stuck on the podium and another crawling around on the ground disoriented, you're at an advantage now. There are only two actively after you, you can take them down easily, but the ache in your stomach has you hesitant. You're close enough to the exit you want to run, but once you're through, you won't know where to go and they could easily catch up and surprise you. If you take out two now, you only risk the others following you if they can, and whatever else lies in the remaining corridors. Taking up your knife again, you decide killing two now will be more beneficial, even if your body is protesting every step you make. One lashes out, catching you in the arm, but it barely scrapes you and you're able to grab the arm and twist, breaking the bone. The zombie makes a strangled groan kind of noise as you yank it toward you, pulling the same move you did with the first one. This time, you back away before the majority of its blood showers you, the body dropping down to its knees and then to its stomach, a pool of red created in the grass. Chest heaving, you're about to face the other when it grabs your sides, and you only just grasp the back of its head by the hair before its head descends on your neck, muscles in your shoulder aching.

Nails dig into your side and you cry out in pain, feeling a warm, wet sensation wash down your body. Your knife falls out of your hand and you're starting to think this is it, you're going to die in this arena built by sadists, all watching as teeth get closer and closer to your most vulnerable spot. Trying to kick behind you, it only causes its mouth to get closer and soon enough you can feel them on your neck, waiting eagerly to be able to push down and take the perfect bite out of fresh meat.

By a stroke of luck, you manage to land a kick hard enough onto its knee to make it sink down, grip releasing your bleeding side. The hand previously holding the zombie's head flies down, pressing into the wound and limping closer to the exit without looking back. You hope the kick was enough to incapacitate it, not daring to delay another second of getting out of here. Without the steak knife, you feel naked, defenseless. Any infected you run into going forward will have the upper hand now that you're injured too, leaving the occasional bloody handprint on the wall as you wander through the twists and turns specially created for you. You're starting to lose hope of getting out when you see one of your handprints, taking the other corridor left instead of right like you did previously. The wall you hit is a dead end, but you can tell it's the arena wall instead of part of the maze. Using the hand not holding your blood in, you brush your fingers over the painted wood and feel a ridge in the otherwise smooth wall, about the size of a lock.

You bring out the key and match it up to the indent, pushing it in and turning. When you hear a click, you use the key to help open the door out. On the other side is Han, waiting to enter the maze.

Han returns hours later when the sun has already set, entering your trailer and leaning against the closed door. You're on the pull-out couch under a rough, worn blanket, trying not to move too much and cause your stitches to rip. After you'd gotten out, you were brought inside the diner to be assessed, Niko making quick work of your injury before sending you off with a paper plate of meat and rice. The paper plate sits abandoned on the counter by the door, only half of the food eaten. You were in too much pain to finish the meal.

Sliding down the door, Han puts his head in his hands, fingertips reaching past his hairline and rubbing his scalp. When his body starts shaking, first his shoulders, then the rest follow, you know he thinks you're already asleep as he lets himself break. You've never seen him so vulnerable, so weary, and it feels wrong to watch him cry and cry and cry. So you close your eyes, allowing the heaviness in your own chest to bring you to sleep.

When you wake, Han is tucked under a different holey blanket on the opposite side of the couch, his back facing you. As much as you want to reach out and comfort him, tell him everything will be okay, you don't want him to know you witnessed him in the flesh last night, and you don't want to lie to him either. You don't know that everything will be okay, you can't tell the future. Staring at his back, you want to reach out and trace a finger down his spine, rub circles into his shoulder blades, anything just to touch him. Maybe you're deprived, maybe you're starting to like him.

Late morning is when they take you back to the arena, but they don't separate you from Han this time. He gives you one last look over his shoulder as they lead him to the other side, and you can't help but wonder what they're going to make you do today. You weren't celebrated again last night, feeling the growing impatience within the group about how you and Han keep winning the challenges they've thrown at you despite the odds. Are they going to make you fight each other? Finally force one of you to die? Or will this be an execution of sorts?

"What's on the menu today?" You try a light tone, giving the man behind you a small smirk.

"You are." And you're hit by something hard, effectively knocking you out.

You come to with blurry vision, the side of your head pounding from the force of whatever he hit you with. Blinking, your vision returns slowly and you spot Han on the other side, not too far from where you sit- fuck. You're chained to a metal post, handcuffs rubbing at the skin on your wrists that have only just recovered from your trip to the hospital. Han is in the same situation, but he hasn't regained consciousness yet. There's a drip of blood going down his cheek, nothing too major, but the wound on his eyebrow from his rescue attempt has opened back up. In between you are two zombies, each with collars around their necks connecting to a chain held by someone behind them. At first, you're unsure why they aren't trying to feast on the ones closer to them, why they're so focused on you and Han specifically, then you notice the blood and guts drenching the two people holding the infected back.

Smart, I guess, you think. They can't smell the difference between you and themselves.

The chains loosen ever so slightly, causing the zombie to get closer to you. Upon further examination, you can see a key dangling around its neck; it has to be for the handcuffs you're wearing. The chains around your ankles are looser, and you try to kick them off as the zombie continues to slowly be released. At this point, Han has woken up and seems to be struggling with unbounding his wrists, but you already knew that was a lost cause from how tightly the cuffs are digging into you. After more struggling, you figure out how they've encased your legs, realizing they didn't tie anything down, only wrapping them around several times. You can see the loose ends hanging down if you lift your legs. If only you could just...

"There!" You kick the chains off, the space between you and the zombie smaller than ever. "Han! Go for the-"

"No helping!" One of the guys in the middle bark at you.

Rolling your eyes, you lift your legs and make eye contact with Han. He seems to understand, frantically trying to wriggle his legs free. You're not sure there's enough time for him to get them untied before his zombie gets to him, less space between them than you and your own personal zombie. You wait patiently for it to get closer to execute your plan, the crowd starting to boo, thinking you've given up. You haven't, but they don't need to know that. Once close enough, you twist your legs around it, kicking it as it falls, and sitting up flat against the pole that holds you to avoid its head falling near any body parts. It lands near your feet, exactly where you want it, and you place a foot on either side of its head and- crunch. Break its neck. Using the lower half of your body, you bring it up and lean forward as much as you can. It's difficult, and the pull on your wrists hurts like hell, already feeling the new slices deepening with every centimetre. Sweat runs down your nose in the hot sun, dripping down onto the body between your legs as you use your teeth to bite down on the necklace holding your key, ripping it off with every bit of force you can muster.

Now, the even more difficult part. If you fuck up throwing this behind your shoulder, it's over, for you and Han. Looking up for a brief moment, you can see he's gotten his feet and legs loose, but his zombie is gaining on him, mouth snapping at him as he backs up.

"Come on, Y/n," You mumble, mouth full with the necklace. "Do this right. Don't mess anything else up for once."

A leap of faith, a stroke of luck, a well-directed toss, whatever, the key lands right beside your hands when you sit back, taking only a second to be blinded by pain, forcing yourself to feel for the metal. Once you've grabbed it with bloody fingers, you bend your hand almost unnaturally to unlock yourself. A rush tingles your hands and fingers, curling them in and out to regain any lost feeling before standing on shaky legs. Han is holding his zombie back with his legs on its chest, kicking outward, and it slips on the grass. As you jog over, he starts kicking its head as it continues to crawl toward him.

"Oh no you don't!" You shout, giving a swift kick to the head of the zombie, and it rolls onto its back.

Someone is yelling, but you're too focused on Han to notice. He's breathing heavily, obviously tired from holding his legs up for so long. You manage to get the key into the lock before you're yanked back by the neck of your t-shirt, Han doing the rest and pushing whoever grabbed you away in seconds. This earns him a punch to the jaw and he falls, hand holding his face. You turn around to see one of the guys covered in guts, and he looks angry.

"What was the one thing I said, bitch?" He grabs you by the neck, but not too tightly and you grin.

"I don't know, bitch, couldn't really hear over the zombie trying to eat me." You say, not thinking.

Oh, you've done it now. His grip on your neck gets tighter, constricting your breathing to nearly nothing, but lets go as his eyes focus on something behind you.

"No hurting the contestants unless I say so." The man, who you still don't know the name of, places a hand on his shoulder. "That is... unless you want a spot in the show?"

"N-no, sir," He stutters, shaking his head.

You rub your neck with one hand, kneeling next to Han who's still half on the ground. Reaching up, you pull his hand away and check his jaw. There's a bruise forming already as you gently thumb over the mark, making eye contact with him as you do. Your breathing hitches, thumb stopping and heart racing.

"Little lady." A hand comes to grab you under the arm, bringing you back to a standing position. You're getting real sick of that nickname. "Come with me." He leads you to the end with the exit, face close to your ear. "You heard the man, you weren't supposed to help your boy. Do you know what we do to rule breakers here?"

"No," You whisper, unsure if you want to hear the answer.

"First, we make sure you understand what you did wrong," He chuckles, and a feeling of unease settles in your stomach. "Then, you get to meet our undead friends." He pushes you through the doors of the diner, bringing you to a small room you haven't seen with a barren desk and broken chair. "Last is the best part." He lets go of you harshly, sending you into the desk with a cough. "Then, we eat you. Now, allow me to start the process."

Before you can register, he's landing a hard kick with the heel of his boot straight into your nose, effectively breaking it and causing your head to hit back against the wood you're sitting against. Immediately, your vision blurs, and the taste of copper fills your mouth, and the scent, your nose. He picks you up by the throat, slamming you face down against the top of the desk and you feel the bottom of your shirt lift. A cold, metal blade traces what's exposed of your spine, as if choosing the perfect spot to stab you. It trails to the side and digs in slowly, agonizingly, but you're thankful he chose somewhere non-lethal. You're not at the stage of getting killed yet, only tortured. Not that that's good either, but hey, you still have a chance of getting out of this. The blade is all the way in now, and he pulls it out just as slowly. Once it's out, you take the opportunity to flip over and push away from the desk, forehead making contact with his own.

With a groan, he stumbles back and rubs his forehead. "You little shit. I'm gonna-"

He cuts himself off, head snapping toward the door behind him and the noise behind it. There's shouting, gunfire, you name it. He makes his way to the door, pausing and walking back to you before stepping out.

"We're not done here." He shoves you onto the ground again, landing a swift kick to your ribs and you feel something crack. "Got it?"

When you don't answer, he kicks you again, this time under the chin. "I asked you a question."

"G...got it." You cough out.

He scoffs, giving you a dirty look as he leaves the room. Everything is fading for you, the sounds of chaos, the taste of your own blood in your mouth. A trembling hand comes up to touch the charm on your necklace lying under your shirt, eyes fluttering shut. You know you shouldn't give in to the feeling of oncoming sleep, but it would be so very peaceful.

A door opens in the distance hard enough to hit the wall. Next thing you feel are hands on your body, on your face. Hands that shake you awake and bring you into someone's lap. Someone who wipes the blood from your face despite the fact it won't stop anytime soon, someone who picks you up bridal style and whispers; I've got you.

All is going well until Han is tackled outside the diner, and you roll away from the two fighting bodies. Your eyes are open slightly, watching Han get punched by the same man who was going to kill you, but he's stronger than you were in the moment and flips their positions. Han still has no weapon, so you watch as he uses his fists to repeatedly hit the man until he's no longer moving. Even then, he doesn't stop, and that's when you notice the tears streaming down his face. Arms reach out and pull Han away, holding him close as his hands are held in front of him, blood running down from the knuckle, a mixture of his own and from the body he's straddling. A flash of blond hair and you can tell it's Felix holding him, comforting him in the midst of fighting around you. It's hard to make out who everyone is, but you vaguely see Seungmin using his new baseball bat to beat anyone who comes near you three, and Chaeryeong must be shooting from somewhere behind you because bodies are dropping like it's nobody's business. They all found you. They all came to rescue you.

One hand touches your cheek, turning you to face the owner and you lock eyes with Hyunjin. You can't speak, but you give him a weak smile. The moment doesn't last long as Hyunjin is gently pushed away and you're being carried again. This time, you can look up at Han and admire the determination on his face as he lies you down in the backseat of the pickup truck, closing the door and circling around to sit on the other side with your head in his lap. You can kind of feel the car start, but mostly, you're focused on Han's warm fingers brushing through the loose parts of your hair.

You might die in this truck, but at least you'll die in the lap of someone you care for, and who cares for you. You won't die alone like you thought you would in that room, at the hands of that vicious man. You're bleeding out onto the seat, but you can't find it in you to care anymore. You just want it all to be over.

---

notes ▪︎ i forgor how heavy this chapter was

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