#and make the people he wronged at least know that he realized what he had done

[eldritch-spouse]

Reader who’s in Sybastian’s labyrinth and is tired and horny. They decide if they’re going to go out they are going to at least relive themselves so they hop on a bed and get to it. The bed seems weirdly shaky to them but they just assume it’s that they’re just getting really into it. (Un)fortunately for them the mimiced bed decided it wasn’t going to kill this human I mean if you expose your self to him you have to be their mate!

[Fem reader]

TW: Dubious consent; Mentions of gore; Excessive drool; Squirting.

Sybastian spared you little thought at first.

It only took a few months of participating in Vinnel's game to understand how to profile his catches a lot better. He knows who the clever ones will be, the troublemakers that kick and bite, the overly paranoid, and the ones that are so incredibly stupid he almost feels gross getting rid of them.

You didn't fit into any category, when Sybastian first saw you, his mind lumped you into the "standard" group and he moved on to the assumed challenging targets.

This hunt has singlehandedly made the mimic question his own profiling skills.

First, he mistakes the smartass for someone who actually knows what he's doing, and manages to tear into him in no time. Then, a girl who froze at the sight of him actually managed to make him trip, alerting the whole group.

He's had to try to catch the same people several times just because he's failed so drastically in his attempts to gouge their attitudes, and he's sure the jester is cackling behind his many screens upstairs, relaying Syb's failures to the audience like a verbal paddling.

Naturally at this point, Sybastian was wrong about you too.

Because he sure as shit didn't expect you to be the last one standing.

That's not all though. Not only are you the cream of this crop, your savvy side seemed to completely expire as soon as you realized everyone had perished. It's as if you deflated.

Yet, instead of crouching down in a corner to scream your lungs out, or crawling under somewhere to pretend you can hide forever, or simply start pounding at the doors until your nails chip into pieces...

You pace the bedroom where Sybastian disguises himself as a bed. Back and forth, silent footsteps on a carpeted floor. You were smart to discard your footwear and avoid the wooden floors, Lord knows they're made to creak at the slightest miscalculation.

He couldn't help but wonder what was in his prey's mind.

Now that he can see you a little closer, you're one of those pretty humans. At least, the ones he thinks are prettier. The kind he likes to pet on their hair and run his fingers all over. Pretty thing with pretty meaty thighs and a juicy ass. He didn't quite know if he wanted to bite you or lash his tongue against every crevice of skin he could see. It was good that you were the last one, the others weren't as nice-looking.

What could you possibly be thinking of, in that moment? So concentrated, so serious, he could almost have fooled himself into thinking you were on the cusp of hatching a plan.

He didn't think it'd be this...

He didn't think you'd take off your pants. Could hardly believe his concealed eyes when you laid upon him, giving him a spectacular view of your panty-covered goods before he felt the softness of your skin on him.

He shuddered, but if you noticed, it didn't stop you from getting comfortable, adjusting your underwear and playing with yourself.

Sybastian has been sweating for a while now. He hopes you're dumb enough to think the sudden moisture is sweat from your little session. Truth of the matter is that mimic has never had this happen to him. He's never had someone sit on him while in disguise and start masturbating.

Sure, he's been a bench to a few couples drunkenly making out, but it doesn't last long before he's got at least one of them in his jaws.

Nevertheless, this has proved to be a special kind of arousing to the mimic, who relishes the feedback of your movement and desperately tries to shift the position of his eyes so he can get a better view. He's daring enough to catch a glimpse between the sheets you crumpled, locked into the motion of your fingers as you dip an index and middle digit into a wet cunt and clumsily circle your clit with the remaining hand.

You seem rushed, desperate, trying your damndest to rip an orgasm out of yourself for reasons that he can't understand. None of Santi's fluids were utilized in the making of today's traps, so it's not as if you're in an incubus-induced frenzy. He's perplexed, but far from complaining.

Is it that you want him to find you? What a little freak you are, waiting for the big bad thing that's been picking you all off one by one to show itself...

He wonders what you'd do if he rushed into this room, if he wasn't the very bed you're being depraved on. Would you lift your ass and invite him, beg him to please have mercy? Hoping and praying that maybe the offer of your gorgeous body could keep him subdued, could distract him. Cute as you are, not a bad strategy, he'd say.

Syb makes a rumble of delight when the first sounds start tumbling out your lips. Little stressed mewls and gasps that have him this close to losing his mind. Somewhere in his modified form, the monster's cock swells and his need starts to become unbearable. He was never the master of self-control, these games just drive him that much wilder. Drool seeps to the ground when his long, gross tongue peeks beneath the mattress. Sybastian slowly allows his arms to emerge from under the bed, giving them more and more mass while they reach upwards.

With your eyes closed in focused pleasure, you could never hope to see those claws hovering in the air, inches from making contact. The mimic is swift to lock one of said hands around your throat, keeping you pinned to the faux mattress by the neck. The scream he assumes you were going to belt out becomes no more than a surprised cough.

Naturally, he expects the following tantrum. Flailing like a fish out of water, your shrill noises of confusion and terror only excite him further, though the mimic is patient, allowing you to tire yourself out for the time being, rumbling lowly like an engine on standby. Eventually, much to his liking, your motions slow down, vastly due to the realization that the monstrous hand around your neck is static. You breathe rapidly on him, body still overheated and wet.

Syb's reward is a softer hold of the vital location, his remaining hand shamelessly groping the leg closest to it. He doesn't let you have any time to think or react, because one second he's rubbing your thigh, the next he's cupping your belly and slipping fingers between your soaked cuntlips, grabbing you quite literally by the core.

He's excited and rough, able to hear your prior terrorized noises turn into confusion and discomfort. An improvement, in his opinion. Sybastian brushes your clitoris more accidentally than purposely, and the reflexive squirm of your legs paired with the whimper that you let out is what makes him lose composure.

Your poor body nearly tumbles to the carpet when the very furniture you laid on transforms before your eyes, into a looming, lanky monster with a purple chest for head, rows of misaligned teeth decorating the edges of that maw, gangly arms just as long as his legs protruding from it. He makes sure to not let you fall face first, but that might have been a bad idea, because when your doe eyes lock with his acidic yellow ones, you scream again.

Sybastian only tilts his head. It'd be pretty funny if you started running now. He'd have to go after you with an erection, with isn't very comfortable, but it'd be entertaining.

Instead, you shakily crawl back, hues widening like saucers when he brings his own stained fingers to his giant maw and calmly laps the traces of slick off them.

" What... What the fuck are you? "

If he was any other, more dignified type of monster, Sybastian would have felt offended.

" ... Syb. " He grunts out.

You don't look very satisfied with that answer. Unfortunately, you're neither talking nor moving, and his excitement won't let the mimic prolong this pause.

" Want to play. " He points at you, nodding. " I want too. Come. "

The mimic watches your face grow heated, little eyes darting everywhere but him after they catch sight of the tented loincloth doing absolutely nothing to conceal his arousal. He doesn't care to hide it either. You should look, you'll be getting acquainted soon anyway.

" N- No. No, I wasn't... "

Sybastian snickers, mocking. " Was was... I felt. "

Nervousness makes your throat bob.

" I liked. " He adds. " Naughty. Come. "

Sybastian adds more intensity to his poorly constructed coaxing, something you seem to pick up on. A healthy amount of self-preservation is, presumably, what stops you from flailing again when the mimic traces a claw over your ankle, scooting closer.

Sybastian eyes you like a hawk. There's little question, if you make stupid moves, you'll be punished.

Fortunately, you're smarter than that, allowing him to sit right next to your tense figure. Syb likes to think he's being gentle when he pushes the fabric of your shirt up, reaching your collarbone, inhuman eyes widening as you eventually take it off on your own.

Cooperation, from the humans he snags? Now isn't this novel. His cock all but throbs in response.

He laments to see that piece of chest padding your particular type of human tends to don, and his patience does have limits, because he simply uses a claw to rend the thin middle portion apart and free your chest to him.

You have pretty breasts.

Well, a lot of humans do in Sybastian's opinion, but yours have him salivating harder, those soft points visibly perked by your prior activities. The monster rumbles with giddiness, almost unable to belive a catch as appetizing as you landed in his grasp.

He roughly discards his own scant coverings and wastes no time using long arms to drag you closer, skin on skin contact having the mimic rumbling.

" Beautiful mate...! "

He praises, admiring your reaction when a blue tongue longer than your leg unfurls from his gaping maw. You lot always seem to squirm and gawk, and much to his ceaseless amusement today, he gets to see something more than just awe in your gaze. Curiosity.

There's little to no warning before the very same muscle rudely swipes across your chest, clumsily soaking your tits in warm drool while the monster chuckles at the yelp you let out. He savors them like he doesn't get to do this often, finally rolling that clapper between your breasts and easily allowing it to slink downward, across your softer portions and flicking the end of it around your mound.

" Stretch you nice... "

Sybastian sounds delirious even to himself, angling your legs a little roughly just so he can see what he's doing. Your flushed folds stare at him invitingly, he can only imagine what they'll feel like hugging his cock, but your kind is small and frail, he's learned he has to make you sticky and loose first. Whatever you were expecting when your wide eyes glanced down, it certainly wasn't the speed and dexterity that ravished your pussy.

He's never been one to play footsie, or tease, not when he's the one who's been teased to madness by your dirty little show. Sybastian's laps across your cunt are hard and fast, nearly jostling your lower body with their intensity, the pressure against your clit hardly giving you time to gasp in-between each harsh swipe. Not that it lasts long, he's shoving a drool-soaked tip inside far too quickly, trying to worm as much of himself in as he can before he's forced to give you room to breathe and adjust.

The monster beams down at you, his restless spidery hands stroking your thighs, a twitch of his member at every jolt of your legs when he hits something special. Syb can only hum and moan at the taste of your arousal before he's undulating his tongue forcefully, the grip of your inner walls doing nothing to stop him from making space. He salivates even more, a pool of drool drenching the space between your legs and the floor as Syb instinctively tilts his head, as if it could somehow shove him deeper into your poor vaginal canal.

The monster's eyes squint, studying your reactions when you jerk and cry in sudden pleasure. He doesn't like to gloat, but he thinks he's got the science down to make pretty little things like you explode all over his tongue. And if he's not wrong, you're about to give him just that. Impatient, the mimic paws at you until he can get a better feel of your clit, hoping that rolling the nub between his digits while his tongue presses into every crevice of you does the trick.

In no time at all, your undignified noises of animal delight are chocked by a sudden inhale as you tense and freeze. The contractions of your muscles signal his victory, Sybastian all but rips his tongue away to keep torturing your little pearl while you erupt beautifully for him. He laughs and rumbles pridefully when you try to twist away in overstimulation. It could be shame too, but he hardly cares, there's no need to feel ashamed of something so hot.

A lot of monsters can't squirt like this. You though? He wishes he could spend a whole day making you burst over and over-

Giggling a couple more times, the monster finally allows your twitching form to get some rest, peeling away slowly to bask in the mess he's made of you. He makes no secret of his enjoyment, moaning when the flavor coats every inch of his mouth and dropping a hand to his aching cock. The pumping is furious and fast, but not enough, not compared to what you could be doing for him right now

While you pant and huff, the monster grabs you by the neck, careful -Oh ever careful- not to stick his claws where they're unwanted. Not to twist anything wrong. You're smart, smart enough to know you shouldn't jerk your neck or move much in his hold. He can say he's grateful for that, later.

At the moment, Sybastian pulls you closer, slapping something hot and throbbing against your cheek. The way you try to side-eye his dick from this position is hilarious to him.

" ... Say thanks. "

Said shaft bumps against the side of your face tauntingly a couple more times, until his grip eventually lessens and you're allowed to see what you'll be working with more closely.

There are many things a monster like him can flex over humans, and you've come to see plenty today. His speed, his strength, his durability, his tongue... It should come as no surprise that his size would also feature in that list.

Thankfully for you, Sybastian can muster some modicum of patience for this moment, watching the gears turn in that little head as you try to think of how to best please him. One of your hands grabs him by the root, the other cups his balls, your initial attempt to fit him in your mouth fails. On the second one, you manage to at least get a decent portion in, making the mimic pant at the sight of your plush lips wrapped around him.

Chains clink when the mimic lifts his hands, ready to grab you and start fucking into your hot mouth, though he's beaten to it by your own sudden enthusiasm, putting every ounce of effort into making sure he stays still.

Clever girl, you know he'd just hold you down and make you choke.

Syb supposes he can give you that mercy, you're so responsive after all, he's certain you're the perfect mate for him. The way you slurp and hum around his girth is only compounding on this.

As pretty as you look working at him, the mimic's legs are tense enough to snap and he's leaking precum at an alarming rate, so you're nudged off his flushed cock with hesitation.

For a brief moment, Sybastian considers getting you out of this trap and finishing it all somewhere more comfortable. But then he looks at the clear-ish shine on your lips, the peaks of your tits and those cute eyes so focused on his every reaction... No, he doesn't think he can wait.

" Want you bad-! " He all but whines.

It's all too easy to maneuver you however he likes, ending up in the position worthy of a rutting creature, the monster draping over you on all fours. He's long enough to curve his chest of a head and stare back at you when the tip of his slobbered dick teases your opening, beady pupils full of mischief and lust. Although there's mild worry painted on your expression, you spread your legs the smallest amount.

And that's all he needs.

He thinks, pounding into you, seeing your teary eyes glaze in a trance, your mouth hanging open yet silent, it'll be hard to keep such an appetizing little thing away from the others...

The first thrust is drawn out and intense, the two of you groaning in bursts of sensation. He only stops when he's hilted, grinding a bit to milk the perfect grip of your pussy kissing his cockhead. That's the one respite you're allowed before he starts snapping his hips against yours hard enough to clap, snarling and digging dents into the poor ground.

Better it than you.

But maybe, if he fills you up well enough, if he breeds you so hard that the scent of him never leaves, they'll get the message.

[eddiescouch]

I'm a survivor of SA, and I cosign this message. I was one of the people that reacted by downplaying my situation and fawning, because I was trapped. It all felt wrong, but hell, I didn't even let myself realize the full scope of it until I was two months from my divorce being finalized. I buried it, because it wasn't safe to look at or acknowledge while I was still in it.

One thing I want to add along these lines, is that this is all still survival. Anya was literally trapped on a ship, where she knew Jim was volatile, and there were multiple weapons on board. She thought he'd try to kill her if she told him about the pregnancy for god's sake. Emotionally, I imagine living on that ship with him would have been like trying to live with a xenomorph. It's terrifying, constant walking on egg shells because you never know what might be the thing that sets him off.

In a situation like that, addressing things head on can be outright dangerous. Even when it comes to just talking with other people about it, you can often end up in hot water if you just directly say you were raped. The other person's biases and discomfort alone might make them dismiss you. Even if they don't, they can still try to just make nice and dismiss you with a smile like Curly did.

Even though there's other people on the ship, you have to remember that Jimmy assaulted her at least once (if not multiple times, i don't recall exactly off the top of my head). Given no one had intervened and stopped him before, it means that he absolutely would have been able to do worse without risking being caught. I'd also point to the fact that lots of people who played the game completely missed that Jimmy raped Anya to show that it would have been unlikely for someone to pick up on it subtly. The others were absolutely no guarantee of safety.

I really wish it wasn't the case, but you can't just girlboss your way out of situations like that. At least not remotely easily, and not without a huge chance of failure and escalation.

(⚠️Talk of SA/Abuse Victims/Anya Mouthwashing)

⚠️If you need any "credibility" i am also a victim of abuse.

My Thoughts on #GIRLBOSS Anya

TW: S/A , Abuse

Some people need to realize that not all victims of abuse are empowered #girlbosses and are in fact scared to face their abuser bc of power dynamics and such .

Sometimes people just arent able to stand up to them, and thats okay. Its easy for some to say "oh they should fight back" but its really not :( often times their abusers are people in power, or close to them that they wouldnt want to antagonize in fear of disappointing them or for them to do the worst.

Sometimes victims may not even realize they were being abused/manipulated, and sometimes they downplay their own suffering bc its easier than fighting back.

That isnt to say that "victims should just comply to their abuser", its definitely not, and if you are suffering from abuse please seek as mucb help as you can. Im referring to people who always assume that if victims just "tried hard enough" they could defeat their abuser.

This is why often times I feel a little off put by depictions of Anya being this girlboss character who couldve defeated Jimo Because it sorta downplays her fear of him. Yes, we wouldve loved to see her succeed and win, but she was honestly scared. She was doing her best to please him by cheering him on and folding in when he berates her.

Personally I also want her to take that gun/axe and hit him where it hurts, but as a victim of a similar (not SA) type of abuse where people who controlled/manipulated were far above me, I symphatize with her.

Her death and her folding up, her taking drastic and risky measures such as hiding the gun case when she told Jimo about her pregnancy. Her struggling to open up about it bc shes been dismissed already by Curly, who couldnt believe that someone hes close to would do such an act and is trying way too much to balance both sides.

This is all just my opinion. Theres really nothing wrong with making a victim stand up for themselves, in fact yes, it should be celebrated. But also dont dismiss when a victim doesnt do that due to fear/trauma.

TL;DR: sometimes victims can dismiss their own abuse for the sake of safety.

Pls keep in note that im speaking from complete experience and am no way a psych major or anything. This is just my voice and opinion and if you beg to differ, im open to discussion ^^ please be respectful!

[sf1enjoyer]

°The crash°

Part two of the LN series:New Start

Word count:1458 words

Summary: You meet a nasty weather at one of your races ,your car had a front wheel lock-up and that led to a horrible crash which had Lando absolutely terrified and worried for you.

LN4 fluff

@fishyfishersticks

Part 1, Part 3

It was now your second season. The team was proud of you, you were. Performing well and even had a few podiums. In the middle of the 2024 season came your first win and you realized how much you wanted that to happen again. To feel like a winner more often, and later your goal was to become a world champion. The goal has always been that but now..you were more determined and more excited to reach it knowing that you are capable of winning. Everything was perfect...Until it was not. People may think that it's normal to have big dreams and want them even more in your rookie era when you're still hungry for improvement and never pleased with something that was less than a podium. At least that's how you were like. Big mistake. Always pushed yourself to the limit and because you were new you didn't know when to stop. It was raining during the Belgian Grand Prix and it was your first race in such horrible weather. You were currently during the 26th lap of the race. You were wheel-to-wheel with your teammate Lando. He did have a faster pace so he was going to overtake you eventually. You defended the position with everything you had and paying more attention to him breathing down your neck, rather than your driving and where you were going was a big mistake. You rode the kerb making you lose control of the car and what was the cherry on top? Your front left wheel had a lock-up. You could barely turn and Lando couldn't avoid you either since he had another car on the outside. Worst crash of your life. You went flying and rolling into the barrier, your car looking like scrap metal and Lando with just the front wing being completely destroyed landed out of the track, near you. He got out of the car but you didn't.

What was taking you so long? He came to check up on you, talking to you, bumping your visor slightly but it was worthless. You didn't move. He got you out of the car with a panicked expression on his face and hands trembling, pulled you away from it and took your helmet off checking for signs that you were alive. The medical team quickly arrived, made sure Lando wasn't injured and quickly got you into the ambulance. Lando didn't know what happened for sure but he knew it was bad

During the post-race interview, Lando asked about you

"Y/N's crash was pretty bad. We were told she had a concussion and that she's still asleep"

Lando thanked the interviewer and bit his lip nervously. He felt guilty. Felt that if he avoided you the crash wouldn't have been that bad and that you would've been okay. His mind just replaying that scene over and over again...

After the interviews celebrations and the rest, he got showered, dressed and made his way to the hospital you were taken to. Mind blank and heart racing he waited to be given permission to visit you. He saw you still weren't awake and he hopes you'll be tomorrow.

"She's fine.. she's just resting. Tomorrow she'll wake up.."

Wrong. Every word he said. It was wrong. And later the doctors told him you were in a coma. Didn't know for how long but all Lando did when he heard the word coma was just freeze. A million thoughts were going through his brain and they were all blaming him.

A few weeks passed, then about two months which honestly felt like years for Lando. Coming to visit you whenever he could. Bringing you flowers and small gifts you'd see when you'd wake up. There were gifts from your friends as well and plenty of missed calls from your family.

You finally woke up. Your head buzzed a bit and you felt confused. What happened? Why were you there?

That didn't last for long because then it clicked. The crash, the sound of the ambulance and then..silence.

You saw all the flowers, some were already dead but the gesture was nice and it made you smile. Soon enough a nurse announced you woke up. You felt weak, your muscles were sore but it was normal after rotting in a bed for god knows how long. You pick up your phone, see all the missed calls and call everyone back to let them know that you're well and that you're finally awake. As soon as Lando got the news, he booked a flight to come see you.

You were drinking water when someone rushed in and over to you, hugging you tightly

"Hey, easy mate... it's good to see you as well Lan.."

"God I started to believe you weren't going to wake up. I'm so glad you're okay. It was all my fault I am so sorry Y/N"

The fact that Lando blamed himself made your heart sink. You were well aware none of what happened was on Lando and you tried to reassure him.

"Hey,Lan it wasn't your fault. It was raining, I got reckless and I should've been paying attention. Plus I had a front wheel lock-up so it's stupid of you to say that."

His eyes told you a lot. They seemed tired and slightly red. And god..you could tell he was on the verge of tears

"Lando it's okay don't cry mate. None of that is on you. Don't blame yourself"

You hugged him for a while and played with his hair gently. In that moment it just felt natural and you wanted to comfort him because he was your friend after all

It wasn't long before you started driving again and it felt good to be back home. You worked hard and got stronger physically and mentally which paid off. More podiums were coming your way and a few wins as well. Things were working out for you but you couldn't say the same about your teammate. His racing wasn't that bold anymore and he gave up fights so easily. Where was the guy who took risks, trying to win no matter what? He no longer had that fire..that ambition. He almost seemed frozen and afraid.

You decided to confront him about it because no driver in their right mind with the ambition of becoming a world champion would just give up their driving skills like that.

You knock on his driver's room and he replies with a shot "Come in."

You slowly open the door and peek your head inside "Lan, can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure."

You fully step into the room and close the door, crossing your arms in front of your chest and confront him

"What's up with you?"

"What do you mean? I'm fine."

You roll your eyes and walk towards him

"You don't seem to be. Something pressuring you. a You're not the same Lando I knew three months ago, the old Lando clearly didn't give up positions that easily even if he wasn't top three"

"What's a position worth fighting for if it's not a podium, hm? And taking risks isn't all that."

"Taking risks is what makes you a world champion. Lando, what's with this tragic change so suddenly? Talk to me. You're my friend as much as you're my teammate"

He sighs and rubs his face, sitting down and then looking up at you

"Since your accident. I blame myself because if I had been more careful you wouldn't have been in a coma because the accident would've been worse Y/N."

You grab a chair and sit in front of him

"Lando you don't know for sure if it would've been better and it's not your fault. You had no fucking space mate. You didn't have where to go and even if you braked the same thing would've happened because you didn't have time to brake. Stop blaming yourself. This incident only holds you back. I am over it, everyone is over it and you should get over it as well. If you want to win you have to move on."

Lando just looks down, contemplating your words but not saying anything

"You know what you're capable of and right now you're the only one holding yourself back from progressing."

You stand up to leave and when you get at the door you said a few last words before exiting.

"I hope you take my advice."

And to your surprise he did. You're happy you were able to make him realize that it wasn't his fault but knowing him you knew he was still guilty but he just locked that thought away, not so deep, into his brain. And of course, something had to go wrong.

[sissylittlefeather]

Loyal & True

A/N: I wrote something a little unorthodox, but it's been stuck in my brain like a splinter for over a year now, so I had to do it. This is a modern AU where Elvis is in a fraternity. This one is purely my fantasy, but I hope at least a few of you will get a kick out of it. It's pretty entertaining, if nothing else.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, typical smut, kissing, fingering, oral sex (both receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, but also they drink a lot of alcohol and smoke at one point.

Word count: ~4.4k

“Hey, honey, are you new here?” Elvis takes a sip from the beer he's holding in a red Solo cup. He cringes a bit at the taste. It doesn't matter how long he's in the fraternity, he'll never get used to the taste of cheap beer and he'll definitely never like it. You, on the other hand, he likes immediately.

“Oh, um, yeah. I'm thinking of going through rush, so my roommate thought I should experience a frat party as a means to convince me.” He smiles and it almost takes your breath away. How on earth is he so attractive?

“And are you convinced yet?” He takes another sip, but you suppress a giggle. It's obvious he doesn't like what he's drinking.

“Not really. The beer is cheap and the music could be better.” He laughs, appreciating your honesty. He's so used to girls who fall all over themselves to try to sleep with him that your bold truth is refreshing. Setting his cup on the counter, he nods.

“The beer is cheap, I'll give you that. We'll address that at the next chapter meeting, I assure you.” He's kidding, but you don't know enough about Greek life to know that.

“Y'all really talk about beer at meetings?” He laughs.

“Not at all. It was a joke. You really are new here, aren't ya?”

“I really am. I'm not sure this whole scene is for me.” He steps back and looks you up and down.

“You look like you fit in. But you also don't look like a freshman.”

“I'm not. I spent two years at a junior college and this is my second year here.”

“Why are you thinking of going through rush now?” You take a sip of the beer and then set yours next to his on the counter, making a face.

“That really is bad. I need friends. And I've heard it looks good on a resume.”

“Well, you're not wrong about that.”

“Just not sure I'm ready to buy my friends.” He clicks his tongue and looks at you disapprovingly.

“That's not what this is at all. You're paying for opportunities. The rest is up to you.”

“Mmm. That's an interesting way to think of it.” There's a small lull in the conversation, but he's not ready to move on from you.

“What kind of music would you prefer?” He asks and you laugh.

“I'm more of a classic rock girl. Think like Kansas, Boston, the Eagles, Elton John, things like that.” His eyes go wide and he tries not to smile like an idiot.

“You're a girl after my own heart. I agree. But this music is better for a party.”

“Why do you say that?” He smirks.

“Come on.” You raise your eyebrows and take the hand that he offers you, following him out to the dance floor.

“I really don't-”

“Just try it.” He puts his hand on your lower back and pulls you in close to him. Thankfully, the music is loud, so he doesn't hear you gasp a little when he puts his hands on your hips and starts to move you with him to the beat. You've never danced like this in public before, much less with a guy. “You're too stiff. Relax, baby.”

“I'm trying…” He pulls back and looks at you.

“Here, come with me.” You take his hand again as he leads you to the kitchen. It amazes you how many people say hi to him as you walk together. He introduces you to everyone, but there's no way you'll be able to remember all the names. The first time he realizes he doesn't know your name, but once you say it, he doesn't forget it. Eventually, you get back to the kitchen and he goes to a cabinet, pulling a bottle of liquor down from the top of it. “We need shots.”

You smile and nod. That sounds like exactly what you need. He comes up with two shot glasses and pours one for each of you.

“What is this?” He grins.

“Peanut butter whiskey.” Your mouth pops open. You didn't know there was such a thing.

“It's good, I promise. Cheers.” He taps his shot glass against yours and then throws back the brown liquor. You nod and do the same. You're no stranger to shots and this one is actually really good. “I was right, huh?”

“Yeah, it's really good.”

“You want another?”

“Hell yeah, I do.” He grins again and pours two more shots. This time, you do them together and put your glasses down at the same time. “That stuff is dangerous.”

“Why? You feelin’ like you might make a bad decision?” He smirks down at you mischievously. The whiskey is starting to go to your head, so you giggle.

“Mayyybe. Come on, let's dance.” He's surprised, but he doesn't argue as you take his hand and practically drag him back to the dance floor. Truthfully, you just want an excuse to press up against him again.

When you get back to the dance floor, it doesn't take long for you both to settle into a rhythm of grinding against each other to the beat. You start out facing each other, but before too long he turns you and you go to work rubbing your ass against his crotch. You're not sure what's come over you, but it's like you've been living for this moment and you've had just enough alcohol to lower your inhibitions. He holds your hips and guides your motions against him. As the tension builds, his lips find your neck and he starts to press soft kisses just below your ear. For a bit, you reach back and grab the back of his hair as he continues kissing your neck. Before too long, though, you turn to face him. He looks into your eyes for about half a second and then dives in, crashing his lips into yours in a wildly passionate kiss. He pulls your hips in tight against his and you feel his hardness where it strains against his pants. Your arms are around his neck and somehow he still sways a little to the music as his tongue explores your mouth. His hands start to roam as the kiss reaches a fever pitch and he pulls back breathlessly.

“Air. We need air.” You're a little disappointed, but he leads you off the dance floor again and out to a large patio. He pulls a small cigar out of his pocket and you pull out a cigarette. Wrapping himself around you from behind, he lights yours first and then his. You take a drag and lean back against his chest.

“You didn't want to dance anymore?” You ask, wondering why he'd stopped you when he did. He blows out a puff of smoke and whispers in your ear.

“A gentleman doesn't fuck a lady on the dance floor.” You giggle as he kisses your neck before taking another puff of his cigar.

“No? But he’ll fuck her on the patio?” Now it's his turn to laugh.

“No, baby. Not out here either.” You smoke for a bit in silence, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you.

“What's your major?” You ask, just wanting to hear the sound of his voice again.

“Audio engineering. Yours?”

“English literature.”

“Ah. Music and lyrics. We make sense together.” You're a little surprised that he'd mention anything about you being together, but the idea intrigues you.

“Hey, how does everyone know you?” You ask, finishing your cigarette and turning in his arms to face him. He takes another puff of his cigar, before putting it out and slipping what's left of it back into his pocket.

“I'm the president.” Your mouth drops open.

“You're shittin’ me.”

“I assure you; I'm not. I'm the president of the fraternity.” You laugh a little.

“Wow. I have university royalty wrapped around me right now.” He chuckles.

“That's right. You better enjoy it.” You smile as he leans down and kisses you gently. He's more tender than you expected. You really thought these frat guys all had one thing in mind, but he's so sweet and soft. Maybe it's all an act, but it feels real. You kiss him deeply and roll your hips against his. He moans softly and holds you tight for a second. “Honey, I'm happy to keep just kissin’ you on the patio. But if you want more, we need to go to my room.”

“Sir! I am a lady.” You protest, feigning innocence. He smiles and kisses your cheek, whispering in your ear.

“My apologies, dear. I guess I got confused when you kept rubbing yourself on me.” You giggle and snuggle into his chest in a gesture that's far too intimate for your circumstances, but seems appropriate nonetheless. He obviously doesn't mind as he sets his chin on your head and wraps his arms around you a little tighter. “I'm not usually like this.”

“Like what?” You pull back to look up into his face.

“Affectionate. I mean, I am, but not to this extent. I'm usually more… goal-oriented…” He tries to hide a smirk.

“That's a cute way to say you're usually focused on sex.” You raise your eyebrows.

“Well, I'm just usually not this content to cuddle on a patio, we'll say that.” Somehow, your eyebrows go even higher.

“So you don't want to have sex with me?” He closes his eyes and leans his head back.

“Man, I really set myself up here.” You giggle and he bites his bottom lip, looking back down at you. “Honey, I'd take you upstairs in a heartbeat if that's what you wanted. But if it's not, I'm not walking away. And that's the different part. I'm not walking away.”

He leans into you and presses his forehead against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the closeness, confused by how you can feel this connected after an hour at a noisy frat party.

You're in this position when one of the guys sticks his head out the door and hollers.

“Yo, Presley. We're up on beer pong. You ready?” Elvis grumbles a bit and then unwraps himself from around you, hollering back at the guy at the door.

“Shit. I forgot I signed up for that. Yeah, I'm comin’!” He turns back to you and smiles. “You wanna play? You can be my partner. Scotty can play with someone else.”

“I've never played before, but sure, I can try.” You look up at Elvis sweetly. The guy that you're assuming is Scotty laughs, gesturing to both of you.

“Awesome. I'll play against you two.” You take Elvis's hand and make your way back into the party behind Scotty. The guys get the cups set up and fill them with beer and you wrinkle your nose.

“I'm not drinkin’ that.” Elvis grabs you around the waist and kisses your cheek.

“I'll drink it, baby.”

“She has to drink something! House rules. Everybody drinks.” Elvis rolls his eyes at Scotty and then looks back at you.

“I made that rule. I guess I have to follow it. What do you want?”

“Bring me a glass of whiskey and I'll sip it.” Elvis looks at you like he could kiss you and Scotty laughs again.

“Damn, sweetheart, you keep this up and he's likely to marry you.” You giggle to cover up the way your stomach flip-flops and Elvis pushes Scotty's shoulder. He doesn't contradict him, though, as he walks into the kitchen, leaving you in the room with the guys. You make small talk until he comes back with your drink. He hands it to you and then goes into game mode.

“Okay, honey, now just focus on the cups and try to get a nice arch on it. If you feel like you can keep the ball out of the cup by blowing on it, try it. You can swat it if they bounce it and if you make a bounce that's three cups. We get two re-racks.”

“Yeah, I'm never gonna remember all that. I'm not even sure that was English.” He laughs and kisses your forehead.

“Let's just play. I'll help you.” The game begins and you're surprised both at how good Elvis is and how competitive he is. He tries so hard to be patient with you as you learn, but it's clear that he's in hell when you're losing by two cups. They're down to one cup and you have three left and Elvis is about to pull his hair out.

“I'm sorry…” You whisper. He turns and wraps you in his arms.

“No, baby, it's okay. I'm okay.” You pull his mouth down to yours and kiss him softly. He smiles against your lips and relaxes significantly. The guys all look at each other with their eyebrows raised. They've never seen their president like this with a girl.

“Y'all gonna shoot, or just make out?” Scotty asks sarcastically. Without taking his eyes off of you, Elvis bounces the ping pong ball on the table and it goes directly into the front cup. The room goes crazy as the guys clap and cuss and cheer.

“Okay, now baby if you make this, we win.” He looks you in the eye and you nod. You turn and he puts his hands on your hips, pressing himself up behind you. “Just relax. You got this.”

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, open your eyes and shoot. It feels like the ball moves in slow motion as the whole room watches it. And then, to everyone’s shock, it lands square in the same front cup that Elvis's did.

You'd think you had won the Olympics with the way the guys lose their minds. Elvis grabs you and spins you around, peppering your face with kisses. When he finally puts you down, you have to high five pretty much everyone in the room, including Scotty, who gives you a nod of respect. After what feels like way too long, the guys calm down and start to set up for the next game.

In all the commotion, Elvis grabs your hand and drags you back to the living room where everyone is dancing and settles you onto a couch in a corner of the room. It's too loud to talk and between the whiskey and beer, you don't really want to anyway. He's been dying to get his hands on you again and you'd be lying if you said you weren't craving him like a drug. You sit next to him and turn, throwing your legs over his thigh. He tips your face up to his with his finger and looks into your eyes before leaning in to press his lips against yours softly. After a few more soft kisses, he runs his tongue along your bottom lip and you part yours, deepening the kiss. His tongue dips into your mouth, tasting you, and before you know it, you're straddling his lap, grinding against him as he has one hand in your hair and the other creeping up your thigh, his fingertips under the edge of your skirt where it has ridden up. You moan softly as his thumb grazes your inner thigh, just inches from where you really want him to touch you. He pulls back for a second and just looks at you before burying his face in your neck, kissing and sucking and nipping the sensitive skin there. In this moment, you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen and he's overwhelmed with the desire to keep you. It's an urge he's never felt before, but it's strong now as he works a spot on your collarbone with his mouth. You spread your legs wider and press your dripping wet center against his hard cock, moaning with the pressure and friction. Both of his hands run back to your ass and pull you in tighter against him. You whimper as you rub your clothed pussy on him, desperate for more. You've never wanted anyone as much as you want him right now. He moves his mouth back up to your ear and moans.

“Fuck, baby. We gotta go upstairs.” You nod frantically as he kisses you again, his thumb running over the wet spot on your panties. “Before I fuck you right here on this couch.”

“I wouldn't say no.” You whimper and nibble on his earlobe.

“You can't say shit like that, baby.” He squeezes your hips with his hands and then lifts you a bit. “Come on.”

You back off of him and stand up as he adjusts his dick under his belt and then leads you to the stairs. On the landing at the top of the staircase, he kisses you again, grabbing the back of your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to the door at the end of the hall and then kicks it open, slamming it behind himself. You moan loudly as he turns and presses you up against it, rolling his hips so that his cock is rubbing on your center again. The whole time, his tongue is in your mouth, sliding against yours as you kiss wildly. Your hands are in the back of his hair and he holds your ass in both of his palms.

“I need to taste you, baby. Can I?” You whimper and nod as he puts your feet back on the floor and sinks to his knees. He lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach while you roll your hips forward sensually. You've never been this turned on in your life and you're desperate for more of him. He pulls your skirt and panties down and removes your shoes, leaving your whole bottom half naked. “Mmm… let me see this pretty little pussy.”

He puts one of your thighs on his shoulder and looks at you dripping with arousal.

“So pretty.” Without another thought, he leans forward and licks you, pushing his tongue in you as deep as it'll go.

“Fuck. Elvis…” You gasp and moan as he goes to work licking your clit and fucking you with his tongue. Eventually, he brings his mouth up to focus on your sensitive bud and slides two fingers up into you, curling and then pumping them. You feel your orgasm gather in your hips as he sucks lightly on your clit and then licks over it in tantalizingly slow circles.

“I can feel you, baby, you're so close. Let go and cum for me.” You've never had a man bring you to a climax this quickly or this easily before and something inside you reaches out to him as your release hits you, flooding your body with electricity and ecstatic pleasure. He groans, tonguing you through your orgasm as you shudder and pulse on his fingers. The look on your face, the little sounds you make, the way you taste, it all makes him want to do this for you forever. “You're so pretty, baby, so sexy when you cum for me. Was that good?”

“God-fuck-Elvis, yes!” You struggle to make words happen and he pulls back, smiling, his lips and chin glistening. He stands up and strips off your shirt, yanking your bra off and tossing it across the room. For a second, he just lets his eyes run over your body before he reaches out and gently drags his thumb over your nipple.

“So beautiful.” He murmurs, drinking you in and holding you in his mind. There's something particularly sexy about being naked while he's fully clothed. It makes you feel like some kind of nymph or goddess as he stares and touches you softly.

“I want to see you.” You run your hands up under his shirt and he lets you push it over his head and off. He drops it on the floor and you press soft kisses to his chest. Your hands drift to his belt buckle and he sucks in a breath as you undo it and the button and zipper on his pants. It surprises you that he's not wearing underwear when you see the tufts of brown hair in the opening of his slacks. Now it's your turn to drop to your knees, pulling his cock free and pumping it with your hand a few times. He groans and leans his head back.

“Feels good, baby.” He whimpers as you lean forward and lick a circle around the exposed head of his dick. When you pull him fully into your mouth, he damn near doubles over on top of you. Your oral skills are impressive and he bites his bottom lip and moans, trying not to completely lose control. “Fuckkkkk.”

You bounce on his cock and then press your nose into the tufts of brown hair as you take him deep in your throat. It makes your eyes water, but the strangled sound he makes when you do it is worth it. You continue working him with your hand and mouth for a bit until you feel his stomach tense and know he's getting close. That's when you pull back and stand up, kissing his chest again. He pushes his pants off the rest of the way and kicks off his shoes until he's as naked as you are. For a bit, you just stand there taking each other in. You've both had sex before, plenty of it, but something about this feels special and important. Finally, he reaches out and takes your hand, walking with you to the bed. Suddenly, he feels very vulnerable, like this is his first time again. He settles you on the bed and then lies down next to you, running his hand over your stomach.

“I'm sorry. I just got suddenly nervous.” He chuckles a bit and kisses your lips.

“Me too. Why does this feel so…?”

“Important?” He finishes your sentence and you nod.

“Yeah, that's exactly it.” You look into his eyes as he presses his hand to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

“I think maybe this matters, maybe we matter.”

“I think so.”

“I don't wanna fuck you, baby.” Your eyebrows pull together in concern. “I want to make love to you.”

You relax into him as he moves on top of you, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks. He grinds his hips against yours and you feel the tip of his cock on your clit. You moan softly as he rearranges his hips a bit to line up with your entrance. Spreading your legs a little, you grant him access and give him permission to push into you. He slowly moves his hips forward, entering you gently, almost lovingly. You arch your back as he groans with the sensation of your tight wetness wrapping around him.

“God, baby. We fit together like a lock and key.” He rests his head on your shoulder as he fills you fully, stopping to give you time to adjust. But it's not really necessary as you do seem to fit together perfectly. He pulls his hips back, sliding out of you, and then rolls them forward again, pushing deep inside you.

Sex has never felt like this before for either of you. The physical sensations are heightened by the emotional connection you've created in the time since he first approached you. It's happened fast, but there's something a little undeniable about the two of you.

“Elvis… this… I…” You can't seem to find words to express what you're feeling as he picks up a slow and steady rhythm of sliding in and out of you.

“I know, baby.” He captures your lips in a deep kiss and then rolls onto his back, pulling you with him. You sit up and arch your back, swirling your hips around so that you push his dick even deeper inside you. His hands go to your breasts and he squeezes gently before running them down your sides to your hips. You let him guide your movements for a bit and then lean forward, kissing his cheek as he starts to fuck into you from underneath. “Feels so goddamn good, honey. I never wanna stop.”

“I wish you wouldn't.” You kiss over to his mouth and dip your tongue between his lips. His pace becomes more erratic as his body tenses again, pulled tight as his climax builds in his balls.

“Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum. Can I-”

“Yes. Don't pull out. I'm on the pill.” He nods and kisses you again as his hips snap upwards to meet yours over and over again.

“Shit.” He whispers through gritted teeth just before he slams into you one last time and his cock throbs and twitches, filling you with his release. You lay on his chest and he wraps his arms around you, kissing your forehead. “That was incredible, honey.”

“It really was. Elvis…” He looks down at you inquisitively.

“What is it, baby?”

“Nothing. It's nothing.” You look down and he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tipping your chin to look into his eyes.

“It's not nothing. I think I know what you're trying to say.”

“You do?”

“Yes, and it's insane.” You nod and settle into the crook of his arm as he kisses each of your fingertips. At first, you're a little hurt that he'd call you insane, but that quickly changes with what he says next. “It’s crazy, but I don't care. I love you.”

You look up at him with your eyes wide and wet and he caresses your cheek.

“I love you too, Elvis.” You snuggle in as close to him as you can, your fingers rubbing over his chest hair gently.

“Will you stay with me?” He whispers. You think to yourself that he'll never get rid of you now.

“Tonight?” You ask innocently and he nods, still kissing your fingertips.

“Yeah… or… like… until we die?” He says the last part quietly, like he's not sure he wants to hear your response. You giggle and kiss his shoulder.

“Until we die. I like that idea.” He relaxes a bit and kisses your neck.

“Good. Me too.”

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[cassidyrld]

Buck has spent the past 8 years acting like sex is taboo and wrong for him, specifically because he was Buck 1.0

In season 2, he apologizes to Taylor because he "isn't that guy anymore" after Taylor comes onto him. He has had shitty relationship after shitty relationship because he is looking for an answer in these people that he is simply never going to find in them.

I saw a post sometime ago about how Buck looks to other people to ask for reassurance in his own feelings. "Am I lonely?" "Am I at peace?" "How do you know?"

But he does this in other ways, too. He told Tommy that he feels comfortable in his own skin Because Tommy is comfortable with who Tommy is. That's just another way for Buck to find validation in what he feels.

That's why Tommy broke up with him. You can accuse Tommy of a lot of things, but he is at least self-aware. He hears Buck ask him to move in, not because Buck loves him and wants him around but because he makes Buck "comfortable," and personally, no one deserves to be kept around as a validation device.

That's what makes Tommy say Buck will break his heart. That's why Tommy leaves. It's parallel to Buck asking Taylor to move in with him. Except Tommy is older and listening to what Buck is saying.

Buck told Taylor "I thought I could learn to live with it."

and he told Josh, "I could see a future with him."

And that's where some of you got lost. He doesn't see a future with Tommy, but he thinks he could—hypothetically—because Buck wants a future with someone.

Taylor Kelly and Tommy Kinard have the same blueprint relationship with Buck. Kelly is her middle name. He was engaged to Abby. Things Buck finds out way too late into the relationship because he goes with the flow and doesn't talk to the people he dates.

Which brings me back to #LetBuckFuck. Now, sex is morally neutral. Having sex with 100 people doesn't make you a degenerate, and only having had sex with one person doesn't make you a saint. Also, neither means you have a healthy relationship with sex.

Bobby made a point to Buck that a bunch of random hook-ups wouldn't fill the whole Buck feels in his chest, and Buck internalized that to mean if he didn't have a hook-up at all, he would eventually find the thing that did fill that hole. Which theoretically could work.

Except Buck missed the part where the reason why hook-ups don't fill the hole isn't that hook-ups are bad. It is that the hole has to be filled from the things within.

The sex had nothing to do with it. Now, it's been 8 years and 5 failed relationships later and Buck is still working under a false presumption.

Some people found Oliver's call for Buck to fuck to mean he wants Buck to regress. But failed to see that Buck is actually still a stupid lil punk putting whatever fits into the square hole.

Let Buck Fuck. Let Buck realize his worth isn't in other people. Let Buck realize he can have sex, and his worth isn't tied to it AT ALL.

Stop being like Buck. Stop letting Buck's relationships define him.

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ 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

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @ot8girlfie @quokkabite @linoslawayslinos @reapers-lover @hannieslittlerockstar @kiki0113 @nishiriks @nxtt2-u @moonlightjam @hannieslovebot @minmininnie

green means i can't tag you

[lifblogs]

.

[lonely--seeker]

I think I'm going insane. Lately my dreams have been so mundane, it wouldn't be weird if I wasn't just a person that has nightmares 80% of the time, so I now my dreams are so hard to distinguish from reality.

I wouldn't be able tell what was real from what not if it wasn't because last night I went to my doctor's appointment and I was handed new glasses by Harvey just to go back home and find out Laois was cooking something in my backyard.

[spider-man-2o99]

Just wanted to say that I have been thinking of you and pre-emptively empathizing with the nonsense you are no doubt being flooded with and the psychic damage it must be causing. Keep stanning the king ignore the weirdos <3

thankg u.,, i feel like ive been trapped in a fuckign . Torture Labyrinth these past coupl days . but. wwe will. We Will Yet Persist onwards w/ our hand on the left wall till we;re either out or at the center i swear 2 fucking GOD,

[arionawrites]

1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!

2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr

3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!

overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!

[roman-o-cheese]

Born to break their brain down to them and why they are where they are right now as well as tell them how to grow and feel better

Forced to say “I’m here if and when you need me!” And wait knowing they probably won’t

[chastiefoul]

he finds you crying ft. love and deepspace men

ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel, and sylus a/n: I always feel like mc wasn’t given enough time to grief when chapter 4 happened (or maybe they just didn’t show it or i remember it wrong) but to lose the people you’ve considered family like that in front of your eyes would severely mess on anyone’s mental well-being. mc stronger than me fr i would've had a breakdown every night. so i tried to write the comfort that was long overdue. <3

Zayne

He found you hunched over at the couch, knees tucked to your chest. your shoulder shook as he heard the sniffles and although he’s physically perfectly fine, he swore it felt like his heart was breaking in two.

He would gently put his key on the table, making his presence known in the subtlest way possible so you didn’t get startled.

You quickly tried to wipe your eyes and sat normally but suddenly in no time you were carried as he made you sit on his lap, bringing your head close to his neck as he held you tight.

Zayne wasn’t one who’s great at offering consoling words, as he also a firm believer of actions speak louder than words. As he rubbed your back gently he only said, “Let it all out, I’m here.”

So you did just that. You’ve said this once to him as a joke, but truly, anywhere by his side was the time you felt the most safe.

The doctor continued to comfort you in silence, hoping with every beat of his heart that his arms and hands that’s so used in saving people’s lives, could offer at least some kind of solace for your heart that was in disarray.

Xavier

He’d never hated the sight of a bed so much, until he found you crying atop of it.

Xavier would rushes over to you (arguably faster when he encountered strayed wanderers), determined to do anything he could to help you feel better.

As he put a hand over your cheek, wiping the tears that just kept on coming he whispered, “I’m here, what do you need?”

When you couldn’t even manage a reply Xavier would just stay by your side, his and was diligent in rubbing the side of your face; he never felt so useless, knowing the little gesture gave almost to none help.

For someone who finds sleep easy inbetween every hours, that was the most restless he’s ever been. He stayed with you until you calmed down, offering gentle whispers as you felt your awake state slipping away.

The moment you’re asleep Xavier was keen on wiping your face softly off of the remaining tears, and he tucked you in properly. He brought you to his embrace.

Yet unlike any other nights, he couldn’t find any part of him that was able to join you into the dream state.

Rafayel

Rafayel knew he came at a bad time. Seeing the way you spoke so stiffly and the way you zoned out of the conversation every few minutes.

However, he also knew he couldn’t leave you alone right then.

The silence once again was loud, but he didn’t think you realize that, as he followed your stare to the table, to what’s on the top of the table to be exact. A necklace with an apple charm on it.

He approached your side, cupping your face with both of his hands. “Miss bodyguard, you don’t have to be strong all the time, you know? Especially now, since you’re off duty.”

You chuckled quietly, but what followed after was not your usual easy smile but instead it was tears streaming down your face. And it felt like Rafayel could offer anything he had just to make them stop. And if that’s not enough, he swore to give you twice or thrice of what he had, it didn’t matter if he was to be in debt.

He held you tight, the sight of you crying was enough to make tears made their way to his eyes as well. And it pained him, knowing the best he could do in that moment was only to hold you tighter, as he wished that he could mend whatever broken part you had with one of his.

Sylus

He didn’t even flinch when you climbed on his lap, your usual talkativeness was nowhere to be found.

You rested your head on his shoulder and within seconds he knew that your emotions were in chaos, and if you thought you could find comfort in him, then he was more than happy to be there for you.

“Let me stay like here for a while,” you said weakly, voice all tense and anxious.

He brought a palm to your back, “By all means, darling. You didn’t think I was going to turn you away, did you?”

You stayed quiet, trying your best to get your emotions in order but it just seemed impossible. Sylus then sigh at your another attempt to pretend once again that you’re okay. “Cry if you need. Tears were never a sign of weakness, it just proves that you’re human.”

His rigid sentence somehow brought a strange sense of comfort for you, making your tears escape freely.

Sylus’ fingers felt fleeting on your back, like a touch that could slip away anytime. But he made sure none of that will happen as he stroke your hair gently over and over.

Was he worried of you? Absolutely. Yet he believed with all of his entire being that you that has fallen apart that day, would have no time standing back up again on the next day.

If there’s anything he learnt about you during your time with him, is that you’re a stranger to giving up.

[newspecies]

hi. im normal about books. now everyone go read Lone Women by Victor LaValle

[criminalamnesia]

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

[leilakisakabiri]

Caught In the Act (LN)

Summary: Having your relationship outed on a live stream.

Warning(s): None.

A/N: Requests are open. Writing for Charles or Lando for F1.

Word Count: 700+

Masterlist

You always thought secret relationships were taboo, something destined to end in disaster, something you couldn't possibly fathom being ok with - that was until you ended up in one.

You're not even quite sure how or when you both silently agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, but slowly it became custom to always sit with at least one person in between you when out in public, and leave in separate cars to the same destination.

You both had your own reasons for not wanting to go public. For you, it was losing the normalcy you had in everyday life, being able to work a normal job without people prying into your private life. For Lando, it was to hide you from the onslaught of hate you both knew you would receive for even being spotted with him. He was in high demand these days, especially with the rise of F1 in the last few years, and he wanted to keep the relationship as normal and healthy as possible without the additional pressure of everyone else.

He had seen so many relationships - even his own, end that way, and he would be damned if he had to let you go because of it.

So hidden it was.

You joked with Lando that it was private, not secret, but at the end of the day you both knew that there was only a handful of people who knew and some of them didn't know if it was official or something more casual.

It was good that way. But lately, you were starting to get a bit more antsy, and a slip was bound to happen. Especially since your relationship was long distance, with you living in London, and Lando out in Monaco.

However, since it was summer break, he was back in London for a bit, and you were staying over at his place.

Since you still had to work during the weekday Lando had started streaming again, passing the time till you were back.

You came home earlier than expected today and wanted to surprise him with a pastry from his favorite bakery.

You silently closed the door as you entered, heading in the direction of the bedroom. You peeked your head inside, seeing him playing a video game with his back turned.

You tip-toed behind him, cringing when the paper rustled against your clothes loudly, thankfully he couldn't be less aware of his surroundings.

Which maybe was an issue.

You leaned over his shoulder, closing his eyes.

"Guess who?"

His arms reached out behind him to grab you as you let out a giggle, dropping to pepper his cheek with kisses.

"Hi baby," He smiled at your affection.

He spun around, pulling you closer by your waist, forcing you to put a knee between his thighs so as to not lose balance.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, the croissant getting crushed between the two of you, as he deepened the kiss.

His hand traveled to your cheek when suddenly he froze. You pulled away confused, seeing him look at you with wide eyes.

"What?" You questioned, at the same time he let out a, "Holy shit!"

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He quickly moved you away from him, turning back, hands flying across the keyboard.

"What's wrong?" You asked again still confused.

It was only once you saw the screen switch from the game to the display of the Twitch stream that you realized.

Your hand immediately shot up to your mouth in disbelief as you gasped, making eye contact with a panicked Lando.

You thought it over for a second, and you were less angry than you assumed and it was probably bound to happen anyway so you sighed, "Well it is what it is," with those final words the stream ended and you were left with the revelation that you had both just outed yourselves.

He turned to face you slowly, brain still not processing what just happened, as he ran a hand through his hair, "Fuck I'm so sorry y/n I forgot I was on stream."

You looked at him shrugging, "Honestly, I'm not as upset as I thought I'd be. At least it's out there now."

He groaned, "This is not how I wanted to go about it."

"Maybe they'll think it was friendly?"

"Sure cause I kiss all my friends like that." He deadpanned.

Your hands went up in defense, "Hey, they don't know what you get up to."

He only continued to slide further down his chair.

You laughed, tugging him closer, "It's fine, I'm sure we can still soft launch on Instagram if you want."

[loganbcrnes]

Mine

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x female!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Rough Sex, Dom/sub, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Logan (X-Men), Feral Behavior, Rut Sex, mention of frank castle, Explicit Sexual Content, Breeding, Impregnation, Marking, Blow Jobs, Logan has a big cock, and hes very hairy yes, Reader-Insert Authors note: originally posted this on my ao3, but decided to just upload the full one-shot here as well. link. Not beta'ed and no description of reader Summary: Logan unexpectedly goes into rut and you're there to help him through it.

You had no idea what you were anticipating when Logan came home from work. Before he left in the morning, he was acting stranger than normal. His temper was short, his motions were labored, and he wasn’t himself. His scent was also stronger than normal. It didn’t take you long to realize something was wrong, the bond felt stronger between you two like it was during the war and before you even began to make lunch, you received a text from your Logan.

Logan: I don’t want you to be alarmed, but I think I’m in rut.

This caught you by surprise. Most alphas these days didn’t get ruts and omegas didn’t get heats either. Just like they’re becoming rarer as time goes by. it’s sad really, back before the war, before Hydra - you were able to go into heat. You always spent it alone back in the 30s, you even got time off from your part-time job as a nurse when you were temporarily staying in Ireland. Logan could go into ruts too before Project X. during the war you both would help each other out, which led to you both bonding until the train mission fucked all of that up.

But now it’s 2021, over 70 years have gone by and 3 years since The Snap. You are forever thankful that both you and Logan survived it. You don’t know what you would have done if your beloved alpha was taken away from you once again. Since then you both decided to get a nice cabin in the mountains to get away from everything. You both were done fighting, tired of constantly losing people you loved. 

Logan got a job in construction in town about an hour away. So he didn’t usually come home until around 6 pm. You were thankful when you got the news that Frank Castle and his pack of alphas were moving a few miles away from your cabin a few months ago. You know it can get isolated in this area, so to have friends that you consider family to come and visit was nice.

There was no time to think about the next course of action though, it was clear what you had to do and something you thought you wouldn’t ever do again. Logan would be back in about half an hour, which gave you time to set up the room and go for a nice shower. 

You immediately went into one of the cupboards in your walk-in wardrobe for blankets. Logan didn’t necessarily like making nests, he always said and his quote: “ya’ don’t need to make those things no more lady, you use your alpha.” in his deep gruff tone. So you resorted to cuddling at least 2 times a day instead and he would fuck you into the mattress just how like it every time. 

Once you got a mattress onto the floor with a ton of blankets and pillows littered onto it, you went into the bathroom and stripped down. You cleaned up and once you were done, you slipped on a white silky nightie that reached down to your thighs. After that you got some nice cold water bottles to put beside the nest. As you were done you heard the door click open.

Logan could smell you before he even got out of his truck. His heightened senses were even more sensitive and he could smell just how wet you already were. All he could think about was knot, breed, mate- over and over as he got closer to the door.

It was rather embarrassing when he started to sweat and get a hard-on on his lunch break. He didn’t understand at first, but then recognized the symptoms to be a rut. Thankfully Frank was there to get him to leave, but damn did that hurt his ego a little.

Once he entered he was hit again with your strong scent. It was so sweet, sweeter than usual that he was beginning to think that maybe his rut could trigger your heat. He sure hoped so. Your scent was a mixture of roses and strawberries, he used to hate strawberries before he met you, but now it’s one of his favourite fruits.

You looked up from your iPad as Logan walked in and put down his backpack. “Hey,” you said as you got up, but were cut off by a squeak when he immediately jumped you. He picked you up by your thighs, making his way to your bedroom, his lips never leaving your neck. He nipped and sucked little bruises into your soft flesh. He put you down gently onto the mattress and started groping your breasts. 

“Fuck, I’ve been thinkin’ about this all day, Darlin’”. Logan growls as he starts kissing down the valley between your breasts. He pulled back and slipped off your nightie, revealing your breasts and wet cunt. You blushed and looked away, but your alpha immediately notices. “Hey, no looking away from your alpha now,” Logan says as he grips your jaw to look back at him. 

“Sorry, Alpha” you shyly say. Logan only grunts back in reply as he stares down at you. You grip at his clothes, “off, please” you whine at him. Logan immediately starts to strip down, you stare at his glorious beefy body as he takes off his pleated shirt and jeans. Your eyes traveled the trail of hair down to his already hard cock. You lick your lips wanting to taste so badly. 

Logan notices as smirks, he leans back down to press his lips against yours, just as a whimper escapes through your lips, giving you a smoldering kiss which leaves you breathless within seconds, distracting you as he continues to run his hand up and down the curves of your body, getting closer to your sensitive parts.

You are gasping for breath when he pulls away, and in your complete haze, you watch him as he slowly climbs down your body, his lips never leaving your skin as he trails his hot kisses on you all the way down. He parts your legs further so he could get more comfortable between them, then when he presses a kiss at your nether lips, his fingers parting your folds so he could find your slick entrance and give a long, hungry lick right at where your desire is centered until you cry out. “Taste so fucking sweet ‘mega”. Logan growls as he licks your clit. You hear him moan and you open your eyes to look down at him, to see that his eyes are closed, totally blissed out as he sucks on your cunt, licking your entrance. You feel the hard tips of Logan’s fingers right at your opening, you moan when you feel two fingers parting your hot pussy, your walls instantly begin spasming around them, sucking them inside your depth.

“So hot, baby,” Logan growls, his warm breath falling on your sensitive folds as he whispers between the kisses he is giving you right at your heated core. “I’ve wanted to taste you since I could smell your sweet scent before I even got outta my car.”

You can’t think straight, you’re totally blissed out and your mind is filled with alphalphabreedmatealphabreed constantly, you reckon he has triggered your heat, but you don’t even realize and neither does he. His cock is stiff and swollen, you notice the center of his length has a bulge, showing that his knot is starting to form.  Your cheeks begin to heat up realizing that you’re doing this to your alpha. 

You go deeper and deeper into submission, surrendering yourself to your alpha, letting him know he can use you however he wants. Logan feels everything you feel, your bond is so strong that it’s overwhelming for the both of you. 

He continues to tease you with his fingers for a few more seconds and then the warm rasp of his tongue sends a series of shivers trembling through your body. He licks across your sensitive bud leisurely, biding his time with his eyes on you to take in every single reaction you are giving him through every lick, every swirl of his tongue. He has never seen anything so beautiful. He flicks his tongue from around your clit, down to your slit, moving back and forth as he continues to plunge his fingers into you. You begin to shake as you are nearing the edge.

He must have felt it, because he continues to lick at your cunt, slick pouring out as he slurps it all up, growls deeply against your pussy. “Come for me, little mate.”

You let out a whimper at his command but feel helpless to resist him. You can’t hold it in anymore as you come to your release. “Alpha!”. You moan out as you arch your back, Logan continues to milk through your orgasm and makes sure to gather every drop of cum.

Once you come down from your high, Logan pulls back and climbs up the bed kneeling right beside your head. Keeping one hand at your chin, he raises your head up as he uses the other hand to pump his cock, aiming the crown tip on your swollen lips. “Go and put your pretty mouth to use, Darlin’,” Logan says. A drop of pre-cum leaks from the slit, making you drool at the taste, while the heady scent of his cock fills your senses as you breathe him in.

You eagerly nod, barely catching a breath from your strong orgasm, he slips his cock through your open mouth, wanting to satisfy your alpha.

Groaning, Logan reaches down and squeezes your nipple as he thrust in and out of your mouth with almost the same force he would use if he is deep inside your pussy. 

“Love these tits of yours baby, love to see them jiggle when I fuck your tight cunt” Logan continues to grope your tits as he dirty talks. He thrusts into your mouth hard and you moan at his words, cheeks reddened at how dirty he’s making you feel.

You suck the entire length of him each time, loving the feel of the head of his cock at the back of your throat. Using his other hand, Logan grabs onto your hair, keeping you steady as he plunges deeper inside your mouth, pummelling deep into your throat each time he reaches to the brim.

His heavy balls filled with seed, slaps against your chin, loving the sensation and feeling dirty all at the same time. You dig your nails into his thigh with one hand and into the sheets with the other, holding on tightly as your lover uses your mouth for his pleasure. “So fucking good, baby. Always taking my fat cock so well. Look at you choking on it” Logan rambles as he thrusts into your mouth. He groans as you suck hard. You continue to choke as his knot is forming. 

Logan’s cock falls out of your mouth with a pop. The spasms of your climax remain. You close your eyes trying to catch your breath. You feel movement and blankets being moved on the mattress. After a few minutes, you feel a hand caress your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ears. You open your eyes to see Logan, his pupils are dilated to the point you only almost only see black. “You okay, Honey?” Logan asked. He leans down to press soft kisses to your cheeks and down to your neck. You hum as you lean into his touch, “Want you now Lo”. you said, “please knot me, need it so bad”. 

You’re a whimpering mess now, grinding your clit against Logan’s muscular thigh. Logan growls as he pulls back, he grabs a hold of your hips, flipping you over so that you're laying with your chest pushed flush against the mattress, legs bent, and the knees with your ass and pussy on full display. Your smell consumes him; all that he can think about is the taste of your arousal on his lips and how badly he needs to be inside you now.

His long fingers trace your slit as arousal floods from your entrance, coating your slick on his fingertips. Anticipation pangs at your chest as you wait for his next move. Everything in him wants to drive his hardened cock into you and knot you full of his seed.

Logan’s eyes screwed shut as he brings a finger up to his mouth, basking in the taste of you. A wanton moan erupts from his lips at the taste – so perfectly sweet he would never be able to get enough.

Dire thoughts rush through your mind as you rest on your elbows, face turned to the side to try and see Logan out of your peripheral vision. His pupils are completely blown, eyes focused only on your center as his chest heaves in anticipation. “Please Alpha, breed me, I’m ready,” you say to him. 

Logan is always less talkative during sex and now that he’s in his rut and possibly gone feral, his mind is screaming to him to knot and breed your tight cunt, to the point he can’t form words.

His hand is quick to line himself up with your entrance, grasping onto your hips with such pressure that it is sure to leave bruises tomorrow, even with your fast healing. Sharp fingernails dig into your skin as his tip meets your entrance. It’s fiery and red, inflamed and veins popping out alongside his length from how hard he is. The precum that leaks from his tip coat your slit, combining with the wetness dripping down your thighs to create a delicious mixture.

One last reassuring squeeze of your side is all he gives before pushing into you ruggedly. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as he makes his way into your core, feeling the familiar sensation you felt back during the war. His size is bigger, so much thicker and longer than his normal length when he is not in rut. It’s a lot to take in at once, and he’s trying his best to let you relax as your body adjusts to his size. 

“You can move,” you say, lip caught between your teeth as your walls stretch further around him.

With your fists grasping for the sheets, Logan begins thrusting his hips slowly into you– holding out a second each time he bottoms out to let you breathe. His nails only dig into your sides further, barely giving him a grip onto reality to hold back his animalistic instincts.

Deep grunts leave his mouth as he tries to hold himself back, but he can feel his humanity slipping further and further away with each clench of your pussy. His heavy balls slap against your clit.

“Can’t hold back much longer,” he bares his teeth, “need to breed you now.”

You moan out loud “please, please alpha, need you to fill me up with your pups” you continue to beg him. 

Quickly, his hips snap into yours, his thick muscles flexing as he holds your body steady, fucking into you deeply. Breath is sucked out of you as his pace increases; stars forming at the back of your eyelids as you squeeze them shut, mouth salivating at the increasing pleasure bestowing upon you. His length is a lot to get used to again, even though Logan tried to avoid knotting you back then because you both didn’t have enough time, there were times when he would sneak into your sleeping quarters to knot you in the middle of the night, his hand pressed against your mouth to reduce your loud moans as he thrusts his large cock into you; but the everlasting pressure against your g-spot was making the pain melt away.

Logan thrusts in and out of your pussy effortlessly, your slick coating his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your velvety walls. With each thrust, he bottoms out, and it becomes difficult for you to remain upright. Limbs shaking from pleasure, your elbows begin to give way, landing you flat against the mattress.

Your mouth opens, but the only thing able to escape is a silent scream, too immersed in the feeling of him battering your walls and hitting your cervix to make a sound. A loud moan leaves your lips as he pulls you back up, his arms wrapping around your waist to use all his strength to hold you in position. His sweaty hairy chest is pressed flush against your back, the heat radiating off his body soothing you as his mouth meets your ear. A quick nip is placed on your earlobe as he catches it between his teeth.

“Taking me so well.”

He says in his deep voice. The praise quickly soothes your nerves, helping you relax into him as he holds your body close, closer than you had ever felt to him before. His tip is repeatedly hitting against the sensitive spot deep inside of you, you know he’s not ready to let up just yet, but you’re too on edge to hold on.

“Logan I-I’m gonna–”

“I can smell it,” he groans, mouth meeting your bond mark as he sucks harshly on it. 

A string of cuss words falls from your lips as your eyes clamp shut, relishing in your release as your pussy spasms around his cock. His movements don’t slow either – his pace is still erratic, plummeting into you at an ungodly rate.

Feeling your release over him only makes him thrust harder, deeper. It sends him into a full-blown frenzy, unable to keep himself from chasing his high. “Smells so sweet, gonna breed you, Baby, have you pumped up with my pups. Gonna look so sexy with your tits filled with milk and your pregnant belly.” he rambles, the more he talks dirty the closer you get to the edge. 

And you knew what this meant. You both finally have a chance to have children. Something you have always wanted when you first got together with Logan. Before meeting him, you never had high hopes to find a man and have a child or two. You were insecure and no one wanted a 26-year-old virgin omega. Especially since omegas were looked down upon back then.

But that time is over now, you're with the love of your life 70+ years into the future and everything you have ever wanted is here right now.

“God, do it, Logan, please knot me,” the words slip between cries, still shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm, “Breed me.”

So he does.

His eyes slam shut as his mouth finds the crook of your neck, breaking the flesh as his sharp teeth sink into your skin, reclaiming you once again. Screams blow past your lips as blood begins to trickle from the wound on your shoulder. Your chest tightens in pain, loving and hating the sensation all at once. Relief takes over once his tongue meets the small incisions made on your skin, his saliva filling the holes and alleviating the wounds as he licks up the blood.

“That’s it ‘mega. Doing so good for me. So perfect.”

Your heart flutters at his claim, have never felt as close to him as you do right now. Firecrackers lit through your veins, the connection between you and Logan binding stronger than ever and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like you were floating in thin air. Your body is unable to focus on any pain right now, you’re too blissed out from the shock of him reclaiming you to notice how his cock is beginning to swell inside of you.

Cum shoots out of his member, filling you up to the brim until your abdomen begins to feel heavy and swell. That floating feeling quickly begins to fade as his orgasm keeps coming and coming, no inch of your insides gone untouched by his seed. It seems like it's never going to end, and you can feel the pressure from his release building and building inside of you. Your sensitive walls stretch as his cock expands, your body doing the job it’s supposed to; knotting to plug you up and make sure none of his cum drips out.

“Logan,” you whine, tears spilling from your eyes as his cock continues to inflate inside of you, “Logan it kinda hurts.”

“Shhh It’s almost over, baby,” he comforts you, stroking your hair before guiding you onto your side, laying behind you. After such a rough round, his familiar touch eases your pain. The light kisses he places along your spine let you sink back into him, focusing on the feeling of his soft lips instead of the balloon-sized cock stretching your vagina. Gentle hands trace circles up and down your arms as you listen to the sound of his calming breath. His chest heaves as he tries to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Soft kisses soon turn into small licks running over the length of your back as you lay there, still speared on his cock. Now that his animalistic needs were met, it was all about you.

“What are you doing?” you frown slightly.

“Cleaning you up,” he answers calmly, his even more heightened senses finding nothing strange with this new method of aftercare. You’re too immersed in your thoughts to question him any further; if this is what his alpha side was telling him to do then so be it.

As Logan’s knot begins to subdue he doesn’t let go. His tongue soothes over the spot of his mark, all red, but could see the bond mark more visible than it was before. 

“Do you really think this will work?” you ask Logan. You don’t know what you will do with yourself if you aren’t able to get pregnant by this. “It will trust me, Darlin’. And if it doesn’t, we’ll try again and again until it does,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so happy you’re mine after all these years.”

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as a smile stretches across your face. All you want to do right now is to turn around and kiss him, so you do. His face is just as bright as yours when you meet his eyes. His hair is messy and his skin is shining with perspiration, but he looks handsome as ever. He welcomes your kiss like he’s been waiting for it all day. Mouth chasing after your lips, capturing them in a quick kiss before pulling away.

It's the first time he’s seen your eyes since you’ve gotten home, and even then he couldn’t appreciate them as he could now. There's a different glow that he didn’t notice before. Maybe it's because he’s reclaimed you and knotted you after all these years, but he is willing to do anything and everything for you.

“I love you,” you sigh, pressing your palm to his cheek. He looks so innocent now, the blackness in his eyes now faded back to the hazel color you love so much. All the years and pain he’s been through, disappeared. 

“And I love that you’re mine.”