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nsharks · 3 months

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part eighteen —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Over the next four days, you find yourself panting in exhilaration each morning you spar with Ghost. Every slam of your hand into his ribs feels strangely better than the last. He goes harder on you. He'd been holding back, too, apparently— an unfortunate fact for your ribs. The pain seems to motivate you more, even if he is still beating the shit out of you.

Blue also motivates you. "Hit his nose again!"

Of course, that is the one part of him you purposely avoid.

The sun returns and sweat glides down your face. You knee his stomach. It's less vulnerable than swinging a kick, but still, he attempts to grab you by the waist. You quickly skirt away, the ground firmer beneath your feet, only for his hand to latch onto one of your braids, instead. A sting pulses through your scalp as he tugs hard, wrenching your ear close to his mouth.

"Quicker. Good. But don't get too cocky."

"I thought you wanted me to be more confident," you retort between ragged breaths.

"Yes, but you can't forget who has the advantage here." There is the slightest bit of arrogance in his voice that makes your teeth grit.

"How could I ever forget?" Your head tilts and he releases the braid. Suddenly, the thought of smacking his nose again doesn’t seem so bad.

His eyebrow quirks. "Get some water, Twix. You need it."

The water caresses your tongue as you gulp it down without abandon. Unsurprisingly, Blue has disappeared somewhere in the treetops. The lack of more broken bones has waned her interest.

When Ghost lifts his mask to drink, you steal a glance at his nose, noticing that the swelling has gone down significantly. The fact he is still wearing that thing with a broken nose upholds your theory that he is at least slightly insane— as if the fact that he once shoved a gun into your fresh wound wasn’t already evidence of that.

Out of nowhere, he materializes beside you and places a hand on your stomach. Your sore muscles spasm under the surprise of his touch, his long fingers stretching from one side of your ribs to the other.

"Your strength starts here,” he explains in a hoarse murmur. “Keep it tight and you will deliver more damage."

You purse your lips to hide a wince and tap your nose. "Don’t I already deliver enough damage?"

"The nose is fragile. You may be landing more hits on me, but I still hardly feel a thing from them."

He allows you to pry his hand off, but the pressure of it seems to linger. Ghost studies you in a way that turns you translucent before demanding, "Lift your shirt, Twix."

Exhaling through your nose, you hesitate before peeling it up, revealing the collection of bruises you have earned from him. A myriad of pink, purple, and yellow skin flares up under his gaze. They have been giving you a hard time lacing your boots and tying your hair in the morning, but once you get moving, the ache becomes easier to ignore.

He has already seen your stomach and more, yet, your skin itches from the exposure. You shove the shirt back down.

His expression shifts. "You should have said something."

"They're just bruises. I'm not bleeding or anything."

"Still."

"Still what?"

He looks irritated. "You need to fucking communicate."

"I don't see why it matters. No coddling, right?"

"That doesn't mean I'm interested in breaking you."

You jerk your chin up to meet his stare. “You won't."

Blue swings down from a tree, plopping between the two of you and unintentionally—thankfully—putting an end to the subject. "I'm glad you two are finally getting along. It's good for the team." She nudges her dad. "But are you done with her yet? You can't just hog Twix all to yourself."

He clears his throat and the air between your bodies breathes wider. "If you're getting bored maybe we need to find something for you to practice."

"Nope!" she says quickly. "Not bored at all."

He nods to a tree. "Go on. Practice your knives. You haven't done that in a while. Then, you can have her."

With a groan, she trudges away.

The sparring continues.

Ghost's fists soften by a smidge.

"He annoys the shit out of me sometimes."

Blue rips up a tuft of grass as you inch back to admire the swipe of color on her eyelids. It was her idea to use the bold-colored flowers for makeup— just like the models in her magazines. You did your best to mash the petals and mix them with some creekwater, but the result is kind of patchy and not nearly as smooth as the stuff you used to put on years ago.

"Hold still. I'm doing your cheeks next."

The sun highlights the splash of freckles on her cheeks and you try to recall if Ghost had them. Her nose is nothing like his. A dainty button. Another trait she must've gotten from her mom.

"Did you used to wear makeup?" she asks curiously, eyelashes fluttering down.

"Sometimes. Especially when I went out."

"Went out where?"

Concentration nudges between your brows. "To clubs and stuff. It's where people would... dance."

Her lips spread as she cocks her head to the side in a manner that emulates her dad. You have to remind her again to stop moving. “Oh. Sorry. You danced?"

"I mean, not good dancing. Just dancing for fun,” you murmur, shrugging at the faint memories of being sandwiched between strangers, alcohol flowing through your veins rather than fear and adrenaline. Back then, mornings were spent nursing a hangover before class rather than earning bruises from an ex-lieutenant.

Humor dances in her eyes when they reopen. "I don't think Ghost ever went to a club. I cannot imagine him dancing."

The images in your mind morph into something utterly laughable— him standing there like an immovable tank as people try to dance around him. "No, probably not."

"He never really tells me about his life before shit happened," she says thoughtfully.

This piques your curiosity, but you keep your voice light. "No?"

"Well, he tells me the simple stuff. Mostly about his job. But never... never the small things, you know? Like I have no idea what he used to do for fun or what his life was like when he was a kid." She pauses a moment before adding, "He had a brother. That much I know."

You glance up. "Had?"

"He died before the virus. His mom and dad, too. But every time I ask how they died, he just says," she deepens her voice, "'Doesn't matter how, kid. Dead is dead.'"

"Oh, um, yeah, that sounds like something he would say." You tap your fingers under her chin. "I can put some on your lips, too."

Her eyes close again as she puckers her lips out. When you're done, she continues. "He also never talks about my mom." Her face twists. “I think he thinks talking about her will hurt my feelings."

For a few seconds, you struggle to find a response. The rare mention of her mom always makes your heart stutter, but this time, your broken, callused hand reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's okay to feel hurt, you know."

Blue shrugs and looks up at the cobalt sky. "I don't think I remember her enough to feel that hurt anymore. She feels so... far away. I remember small things, like the sound of her voice and her old apartment where I lived, but sometimes I wonder if I am making up those memories, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean." A terrible urge sits on your tongue to ask her more about her mom, about what exactly her relationship was like with Ghost, but Blue changes the subject before you can.

"Does the makeup look good?" A shy blush clouds her cheeks.

You stand up with a faint smile. "I think I did pretty damn good. Come on. I want you to go look in the mirror."

Music.

It pounds so hard you feel it in your chest.

Neon walls enclose you as someone touches your backside, dancing against you. There is a man's voice in your ear that you think you recognize but it's hard to hear him through all the laughing and chatter. Your hair falls in loose curls down your back, free of braids, and you swipe it from your sweaty skin before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

You push through the people. The narrow hall is shrouded with different doors... so many doors. Where is the bathroom? It must be a Friday night on Oxford Street with how fucking crowded and stuffy this place is. Someone knocks into you roughly and your footsteps quicken. A sense of urgency drags you into the next door you come across, a large one made of grey oak.

The smell is horrendous but you feel relieved to see urinals and stalls. Immediately, you press into the granite counter and grip the edge as you catch your breath. The scratched, warped mirror houses a face covered in makeup. Youthful eyes. Flushed cheeks. How much have you had to drink? You need to go home. You will pee and then go home, you tell yourself. Over and over, you repeat this as you relieve yourself in one of the graffiti-doused stalls where condom and tampon wrappers crinkle beneath your heels.

When you're done, you try for the large door you came through, but it doesn't budge. The muffled music outside has faded. Panic sears your chest. You press your back against the door. The bathroom has changed. The stalls are gone. The walls feel like they are closing in, and the smell of piss turns into something even worse. You are alone. Where is the man you came with? You look down. Dead bodies. Strewn limbs. You're standing on a pile of them.

You start screaming. Banging on the door. Digging your fingers into the wood until the flesh rubs down to bone.

It's not a room anymore, but a box. The fluorescent lights replaced by sheer darkness.

The edges of the door disappear.

A sickening silence replaces your screams.

And then—

"Twix."

You sit up, wild-eyed. You grip onto something—fabric—and a foul taste travels up your throat without warning. You heave several times, your entire body shuddering.

When awareness settles in, you wipe your mouth and blink up. Ghost. He is... here. Hovering over you. His shirt is tightly bunched between your fingers and you have just vomited into it. The realization smacks you awake and you recoil sharply, staring at his moonlit mask with an expression that must be just short of mortified.

"I... Fuck. I am so sorry. I don't know why— I just..."

When you dare to look at the mess you've left on him, you nearly vomit again. Hands shaking, you rub at your clammy face and begin to ramble unthinkingly as his stare flickers between you and his soiled shirt.

"I've been trying so hard not to hold back like you said, but I think it is fucking me up a little and letting out some things— memories, I guess. I was pretty good about keeping it all in my box because I've been too tired to even think about it, but now I just..." You trail off, realizing your words must make little sense.

"You've certainly let something out," he rasps.

Your hands drop against the sofa and you cringe. "I'll wash it for you. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

You inhale. "I just fucking threw up on you."

"I'm aware."

Ghost straightens. He pinches the collar of his shirt and carefully hoists it over his head. Then, you're looking at his bare chest. Slivers of moonlight caress rigid brawn and mountainous scars that capture your gaze for a few heartbeats before you tear it away.

"I'll, um, hang it outside and... wash it in the morning."

Your legs are unnervingly steady when you stand up and take the shirt from him, carefully grabbing it by a dry spot. You are relieved to get away from him, draping it over the porch and swallowing gulps of fresh air before you go back inside, praying he's gone back to bed.

Luckily, he has. When the empty living room greets you, you sink to the sofa and palm your eyes. Then, you notice something left on the pillow. A cigarette. You pick it up and recall the few times you smoked whenever your friends offered one. The taste never sat well with you.

You rummage for your lighter. The first inhale burns terribly, but you cough into the pillow and try again. It starts to calm you down after a few times, and only when you've gotten to the butt of it do you go back to sleep.

"No wonder you're not getting stronger if you throw up like that every night."

Not even five minutes into training the next morning he brings it up. The rest of your sleep ended abruptly when he got you up at an unearthly time, probably to avoid having Blue as an audience. You are too winded to even scowl, your fists held tight in front of your face as you try to predict where he will aim next.

"I told you. That was the first night in a while."

"Right. Something about a box, huh?"

"Can we just forget about it, please?"

"Hard to forget when my shirt still smells."

"I washed it the best I could."

The next dodge has your head flying down fast enough to undo one of your braids. Hair slips over your face and you huff, holding your hand up. "Hold on. Give me a minute."

As you undo the other one and opt for shoving your hair into a tight bun instead, he watches you strangely. The feel of his stare ignites a spark of irritation and you flash him a sideways glance. "Look, thank you for the cigarette and everything else you have ever done for me, but you can stop looking at me like that. Like you... pity me. I'm not going to break, I'm not going to ask you to kill me again. Everyone left in this world has nightmares and mine probably aren't the worst of them."

"I don't pity you," he says. "I am just trying to understand you."

"Why?" You finish the bun and drop your arms awkwardly at your sides.

"It's important to understand your ally."

"Oh. Is that what we are?"

His eyes narrow. "Obviously. I wouldn't bother wasting my time with this every day if we weren't."

"Good to know you aren't doing it because you owe me."

"You know what I mean, Twix," he growls.

"No, I don't." You throw your arms up. "I don't know what you mean and I don't know why you never killed me because you had every reason to, and I definitely don't understand you, so I guess we make terrible allies, Ghost."

"What is with you?" He cocks his head to the side, tone mild with curiosity. "So talkative all of the sudden."

"I have no problem talking when the other person isn't blatantly ignoring me."

His brows lift. "Fair enough."

A deep inhale flares your nostrils before you spread your stance. "I'm ready now."

Despite your claim of readiness, he quickly backs you into a defensive position that has you frustrated once again. You don't understand why, but your progress slips. You keep having to adjust your stance and all of your attempts to hit him fail. It's not long before he locks you against a tree with a tattooed forearm against your neck.

"You aren't focused today," he accuses.

"Damn, you're observant," you breathe out.

"Jesus fucking Christ. If I wanted to listen to someone mouthing off, I'd get Blue out here." He presses a bit harder and your throat twitches. "I'm not going to threaten you anymore, but clearly, you think straighter when you channel your anger, so whatever you were dreaming about last night— get it out of your head."

He's right. You breathe deep and try sorting through everything in your head, focusing on just the anger, but it's like fishing in murky water. When he releases you, more of the same happens. This time, you end up on your butt. Ghost glares down at you, circling like a vulture.

"You were doing good the past few days. What the hell is this?"

"I told you," you say through your teeth, brushing off the dirt from your jeans. "Letting out my anger means letting everything else in the box out and it is... confusing me. Making my head fuzzy, I guess."

His chest expands with a deep breath and his pointed stare turns meticulous. "Explain this box to me."

You hesitate for a moment. "It's just... where I put away all of the shit that would otherwise make me insane."

"And what is wrong with being a little insane, Twix? This world is insane. Might as well match it."

Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle for an answer and rub your temples. "I don't know. Being insane means losing myself completely. I mean, I have already changed so much in the past five years. Like I said, I was never meant to be this person."

"What person? A person who survives? A person who does what she has to?"

"A person who hurts others," you grit out. "A person who kills."

"You've killed people, right?" he roughly asks and you nod. "Then you're a killer. You were always meant to be a killer. End of story." His words strike you, and you begin to shake your head defensively, but he continues before you can muster a reply. "The past five years haven't changed you, they have revealed who you are. Now—" he raises his fists, "—open the stupid box and turn everything you feel into anger. All of it. It is valuable fuel that will continue to keep you alive."

He swings.

A kaleidoscope of long-ignored memories flashes through your brain when he hits your sore stomach. Your family. Your friends. The life stolen from you.

And then— you recover your footing and slam a boot into his knee. It loosens his stance just enough for you to throw yourself at him, effectively knocking him over. The ground welcomes your bodies again, but this time, you grip his shoulders and wind up on top, practically laying all of your weight on him. A few harsh breaths expel from your nose before you become fully aware of the position, the heat from his chest pressing into your breasts.

Quickly, you splay your hands flat against him and sit up straight, thighs spread over his narrow hips. Ghost could easily flip you over and pin you if he wanted. But instead, he crosses his arms behind his head.

"Comfortable?" you ask him breathlessly, raising a brow.

"Quite. Though, if this were real, I suggest an elbow to the neck once you've got them down."

"So you admit it, then. I got you down."

"I allowed it."

"Sure." Your teeth snag on your lip and you lightly brush a finger over his masked nose, detecting a tick in the hinge of his jaw. "Then I will 'allow' you to keep this for now, but next time, I might do more than just break it."

His eyes widen imperceptibly before he quickly recovers. "Ah. So you are a person who hurts others, then. Someone was trying to tell me otherwise."

Your lips twitch at the corner on their own accord. "Shut the fuck up."

He simply stares at you for a pregnant pause before clearing his throat. "I did allow it, but that was good. You focused on the anger, didn't you?"

You nod. "Yeah, I did. Is that what you do all the time?" you ask curiously. "Just get angry and kill people?"

"Pretty much."

By the tone of his voice, a deep brass that reverberates through all the places your bodies touch, you are certain he's joking. Realizing that you are still on top of him, you push off his chest and swing a leg over, careful not to knee his face or let him see the deep flush that crawls over every inch of your skin.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #fanfiction #ghost #zombie apocolypse au

1K notes · View notes

tb3ih · 2 months

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APOCALYPSE ⨳ satoru gojo

[ the world is caving in for EX-BOYFRIEND!SATORU--he thinks ]

⨳ word count: 2.7k !

⨳ warnings. post-breakup, non-sorcerer!au, "treating wounds tension" + underlying notes of unfinished love. contains nsfw (MDNI) — oral & fingering (f!receiving), cunnilingus, missionary, creampie & aftercare (?)

⨳ notes, happy love day to the satoru enjoyers. everyone else... well, maybe you'll learn to enjoy him after this. ( thank you to @ktsumu & @difficultdomains for mothering this fic, i appreciate you both sm <3 )

there is nothing quite like the loneliness of being the strongest. GOJO SATORU doesn't allow himself to pay any mind to the void which separates him from the rest of his kind, though at times he wished he could rid himself of it entirely.

his pace is slow and lacking in rhythm, tall frame swaying and trying to keep him from planting face first into the pavement as his body carries him down the familiar path. the metal in his mouth has yet to subside and the male is nearly on the edge of consciousness until he recognizes the entrance to your apartment building.

he does not knock, simply entering the code at your door knob and praying it hasn't changed since the last time he's been there. and it hasn't, because no sooner after he presses the enter button, the lock clicks and a small chime resonates from the door, allowing him in.

the door doesn't creak, so he swings it open just slightly to allow himself in, but one step into the living room and suddenly he's forced into the wall of the hallway behind him, something cold and sharp pressed against his throat.

gojo satoru has never feared for his life, but the glow in your narrowed eyes as you hold him in place and press the knife against his throat has his soul threatening to escape through his throat. and then something shifts, your eyes changing in emotion and just as fast as you appeared because you're no longer against him, tucking the knife away in its holster and standing before him.

"satoru? what are you doin--satoru!" satoru doesn't remember your embrace being this warm when you catch his collapsed body, but then again he hardly remembers anything at all these days. "oh my god--is that blood? jesus, satoru!"

he hums out a reply, vision a little fuzzy around the edges as he tries to register the dimly lit living room of your apartment. he hears you curse out, muttering about how heavy the male was before setting him gently down on the couch. gojo's vision is going in and out, his consciousness indecisive because one moment, you're gone and the next you're standing over him, brows pinched in concentration as you clean something off his face.

"hold still," you say quietly when you feel him try to move from his position. you're seating next to him on the couch, tying off the stitches at his brow. putting your tools down, you wipe the bit of crimson from his pale face before covering it with a bandage. his cerulean eyes watch you unwaveringly, but you refuse to return his stare.

you may have only one life, but there were things better left untouched.

the rest of his bloodstained clothes remain in a heap on the floor near the couch, revealing that most of the blood you had previously witnessed was not his. you stand, grabbing your first aid materials and putting them on the counter. when you come back, you hold a glass of water in one hand and some painkillers in another.

you set them on the coffee table, sitting down next to him once more to adjust one of the bandages you notice has come loose around his shoulder. "y/n..."

you pause your movements, eyes carefully meeting his. you regret your decision the moment you see the way his irises spill with an emotion you wish you could get rid of as easily as you did your assignments.

"why are you here, satoru?" your voice is so quiet, you almost don't hear yourself. why did you come back? is what you wished you said, but you can't risk reopening a wound you've stitched up too many times.

the male purses his lips for a second, racking his mind for an answer that won't push you even further away from him. "i... didn't know where else to go..." he brings his other hand up to your face, fingertips ghosting your cheek out of fear he might break you if he does make contact. "please, you’re… all i have left…"

you inhale sharply, something forming in the back of your throat. "please, don't look at me like that," you beg, but you don't move an inch as he starts to move closer to you, his hand coming to gently hold your face.

"why?" it is quiet in the room and his face is only a breath away. he is close, too close, but you can't bring yourself to pull away.

something hot escapes your eye, the pain in your chest flaring up again and causing the nerves on your skin to ignite. "because," you start, voice breaking off a little before continuing in a whisper. "i might actually believe that you love me this time."

his thumb catches another tear before it can make it all the way down your cheek. "and what if i said i did?"

"you are a cruel man," you reply, never breaking eye contact with him.

something glints in those beautiful blue eyes of his at your words and you know you'd never be able to get rid of him even if you tried. "then maybe you can teach me a thing or two about being good."

silence settles around the both of you, neither of you wanting to say something that might unravel whatever it is that's built up in these few fleeting moments.

“oh, satoru,” you finally say, a bit of sad amusement tugging at the corner of your lip, “not even hell would be enough punishment for you.”

when his fingers go grab your chin gently and pull your lips closer to his, you can’t even find the strength in you to fight it. gojo pauses, lips moving from your eyes to your lips that are nearly touching his.

he licks his lips. “then why don’t you show me what is?”

[n]sfw under the cut!

and you’re not breathing anymore. because in that instant you are telling yourself you loathe the man before you as you bring both of your hands to his face and finally push your lips onto his, all the oxygen in your lungs no sooner chased out by everything that is gojo satoru.

though, you can’t say your partner is any better, because he’s pushing back with just as much force, lips molding against your fervently as his hands move to trail to your waist, lifting you with no effort to make you straddle his waist. you gasp, his fingers digging in just enough for the pain to be delicious as he holds you down against his clothed dick. you can feel the way gojo’s lips twist into a smirk that he’s got you wrapped around his finger, though you didn’t mind one bit.

when was the last time you’d done anything like this? your hips move off muscle memory, grinding down hard against him at a slow, but steady pace that has gojo groaning into your mouth. your fingers find his hair, combing, tangling, and pulling his soft locks while he breaks the kiss to let his lips travel from your jaw, down your neck, and to the sensitive spot of your collarbone.

“fuck, y/n,” gojo curses, pulling away to watch you pull off your shirt, lips swollen and pink while his eyes watch you behind a veil of something almost soft. you aren’t a fool though, you’re just as hungry as him.

his lips attach almost immediately to your chest when you fall back into him, a combination of his incisors and tongue leaving hues of scarlet as his mouth dances across your bare skin. you can feel how painfully hard he is through his pants, the moan that escapes his lips almost making you chuckle when you drag your hand from his face to his chest and finally to the waistband of his pants, palming his length through the material.

“damn couch is too fuckin’ small,” he growls against your skin, to which you respond by guiding him down to the plush carpet on the floor, the soft material on your skin not nearly as cruel as the leather of your couch.

he takes your nipple between his teeth, tugging gently before swirling around it with his tongue, causing you to mewl out at the pleasure. “well, i’ve never actually tried to get dicked down on it before, but i appreciate the criticism,” you breathe out, the snarkiness in your reply inciting amusement in gojo as he sees you’ve gone back to your original self.

“i was wondering when you’d gotten so soft,” he taunts, “thought i’d lost you forever.”

you scoff, “as if i’d let you think you’re the best in the business.”

he switches the two of you, toned arms caging your head in where you now lay on the floor. “prove me wrong then, gorgeous,” gojo says lowly. his eyes look as if they’re trying to devour you in the way that they trail down from your lips to your heaving chest, bite marks and hickies blossoming in reds and bruising purples all over.

he keeps his eyes on yours when his hand finds the drawstring of your pants, undoing them in the blink of an eyes before hooking his fingers into the waistband and pulling them off entirely. his hand comes to your panties, fingertips ghosting over the already-wet patch of fabric.

“you know, for a professional,” gojo starts, lips pulling into a mean grin, “you sure do let yourself get riled up easily.”

with one hand you pull his face down to yours by the back of his neck and with your other hand you grab the wrist of his hand pushing it against your aching cunt. “for a professional, you sure like to run your mouth,” you retort, continuing with a bit of impatience in your voice, “if you don’t shut up and fuck me, i’m going to have to ask you kindly to leave.”

at that, he chuckles, pulling your panties to the side to pressing a finger to your bundle of nerves. you shudder at the sudden contact, back arching involuntarily off the carpet as he starts to move. “well i guess i better get to it, then,” gojo chuckles lowly, dipping a finger into your soaking entrance. shifting his position, he moves down so that his head is in between your thighs before bringing his mouth to your clit.

you hear him curse against you and you sigh, thighs closing in on his head as he starts to working his fingers in and out of you. curling his fingers, gojo relishes the way you shudder involuntarily, walls clenching around his fingers as he speeds up his brutal pace. there’s a familiar tightening in the pit of your stomach and the pleasure flooding your head has the edges of your vision looking fuzzy.

“satoru…hngh–!” you’re a mess underneath him, hands shaking when they move to tug his hair harder. “s-slow down–please!”

the white-haired male hums against you in reply, detaching his lips from your clit to meet your eyes. “funny how you’re asking me to slow down, but this pussy’s beggin’ to be fucked,” he coos, watching the way you’re swallowing his fingers knuckles deep.

and you feel as if the world is a little off-kilter, the trembling in your thighs intensifying as your orgasm teeters on the edge of crashing down. and it’s just as you’re about to cum that he pulls his fingers from your aching cunt, leaving you gasping and sensitive from the sudden loss of contact. “satoru…?”

and that’s when you feel it, his tip prodding between your soaked folds, dragging against your entrance with a pace that can only be described as teasing. gojo’s face comes to settling in your neck, one hand pressed on the carpet beside your head to support him while the other continues pressing his cock against you. “‘m still here, gorgeous,” he murmurs into your neck, voice low and a little strained.

it’s taking everything in him to keep from pushing in and throwing every boundary between you two to hell. the lilt of your voice when you whined his name, the twist of your fingers through his hair, god, even just the taste of you on his tongue–it was driving him mad.

if this was heaven, gojo would willingly repent if it meant he could devour you.

and when you curse out, calling his name like a mantra, only then does he snap back to reality, your teeth finding his neck when he finally does push in, your gummy walls giving him nothing short of a warm welcome as you swallow him whole. gojo pulls out till it’s just the tip teasing your walls before slamming his hips back in, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with just enough force to have stars dancing in your vision.

“holy shit,” he breathes, groaning out at the feeling of your nails raking down his back. you feel his muscles flex as he adjusts above you, “i’m going to eat you alive.”

you place a feather-light kiss where you had just been biting down, whispering in reply, “so do it.”

and he’s smiling against your neck when he starts his brutal pace, grinding his hips into yours in a way that has a scream trying to claw its way from your throat. gojo is a muttering mess of moans and curses, the drag of his veins against your fluttering walls sending him into a state of euphoria.

you feel that familiar tightening in your core, the continuous teasing of his tip against your cervix making you arching into the white-haired male above you, your nails drawing uncertain and indecisive shapes into the contours of his back. “satoru… i think i’m–oh god, please…”

gojo is definitely not thinking straight. from ecstasy washing through his veins to the faint stinging of your nails carving into his back, he wasn’t sure if there was any going back. he can feel the way you clench around him, pushing him closer and closer to his edge by the second.

“y/n,” he rasps, unable to stop the stutter in his pace of his hips against yours. “...god, you–you’re everything…” this, here–the moment–is everything.

you almost don’t catch what he says solely out of doubt that he even said what he did. you don’t respond, only biting his shoulder to muffle the sound of his name as it comes tumbling off your lips in a scream. your orgasm washes over you and you let yourself go under, body shaking as gojo comes to finish following you.

and when he does, it comes crashing. hips slowing to a halt against you, you hear him groan, frame shuddering as he empties himself into you. you feel the warm flood your walls, both of your frames heaving for air as you come down from your highs. when he finally does calm down, you’re already fading in and out of consciousness.

you’re half-awake when gojo rolls off of you, taking his weight and his warmth with him when he gets up and collects himself. you don’t have time to actually feel the difference in temperature because only a few moments after he’s gone, he’s back again, arms locking your tired body against his chest as you’re lifted from the carpet.

you’re barely hanging on to reality when you feel like you’re being embraced again, only this time it’s a blanketing kind of warmth. “satoru…”

the male lays perfectly still against you, allowing you to adjust yourself and get as comfortable as possible. the moon peeks in from the sun window in your bedroom ceiling and gojo finds himself staring up at the distant twinkling of young stars galaxies away.

none of the stars have exploded and the moon appears to have stayed on its course. when he looks back at you, you’ve already drifted to rest, breaths rhythmic and nearly silent as you remain cuddled against him.

silly of him to think that the world was ending.

after all, you were right here.

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occudo · 1 year

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So many AUs so little energy

and I can't decide help

Gertrude is still around au: Takes the longest, but I have around 5 more 'chapters' worth of text for them in my notes. I like the story, but I lack motivation for long comics rn

P & P TMA sigh... it's my guilty pleasure- and have a few more scenes/quotes I can draw with them... everyone looks good in coats.

Archivist!Georgie/ Podcaster!Jon More of this- everyone is in a different role, what happens with the plot? Who knows? Georgie and Melanie but office romance? Danny Stoker as an assistant? Jon streaming? Is there an apocalypse? Who knows?

Cozy Jmart fluff What it says on the tin- no end of the world, just fluff- maybe cats

Kid Jon (and Gerry and Eric)

The backstory for Jon and Gerry from the first au- how they met, embarrassing childhood stories? Their band? Oh, and Eric being their dad.

OG archive assistants Ghost Hunt UK Part of the Archivist!Georgie/ Podcaster!Jon au, but more focus on Martin, Tim, and Sasha and their youtube show.

Also- if you want a specific thing in these AUs (like Mike and Martin on a date 👀), you can definitely commission me on my kofi- just saying

#tma fanart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #gerry keay #gertrude robinson #georgie barker #eric delano #all the AUs #occudo's art #I like this podcast a normal amount #tumblr polls

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doctorprofessorsong · 2 months

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Destiel fic recs

Another round of brainrot. I hope they never fix what's wrong with me.

Beggars Would Ride by Tiamatv (Explicit, 118k)

You had me at Aladdin AU. When Dean Winchester is caught stealing, he's given one chance for freedom. Go into the Cave of Wonders, grab the amulet, and get out. Things don't go as planned. Now he's got a moody ancient genie to contend with. But maybe he can use up two of his wishes and then grant the genie his wish: to be free. What could go wrong?

This fic is an absolutely delight. I laughed so hard, especially at the fun ways Tiamatv played with the SPN canon and the Disney movies. But beyond the humor is some really fantastic world building and a beautiful story about finding your way when you feel trapped by life.

Genie Cas is very cute and grumpy and sassy, and it's fun to watch him start to care. And Dean has so much heart it will make you ache. Sam and Jess are disgustingly cute but both are also whip smart and fun. And Jo (Jess’ sister in this) is the knife girl of my dreams.

This one is hard to put down.

Tourbillon Dreams by kayliemalinza @kayliemalinza (Mature, 40k)

Dean uses Bobby's life insurance proceeds to buy a hoarders house stuffed to the brim with cursed and haunted objects. But when he finds a clock that also happens to be an angel, things take an unexpected turn.

It sounds cracky and there is some delightful humor, but this fic packs a beautiful emotional punch. Dean is in his peak caretaking, competency mode and Clockstiel is adorable and entranced with Dean in a way that is just immensely readable.

There is something starkly gorgeous about the way Dean and Cas are physically so different and yet they find each other in meaningful and beautiful ways.

Love Is a Meat Loaf Song by followyourenergy @followyourenergy (Explicit, 68k)

A reimagining of canon where Dean is never saved and becomes a demon. He's bored waiting for the apocalypse when he happens upon a certain blue eyed seraph and they decide to work together.

This fic has all the delightful sassiness you expect of Demon!Dean and especially when he spends time with his frenemy, Meg. It also has just absolutely amazing angel lore and a deep dive into Cas and his trauma. All of this is wrapped up in a soft love story about two beings finding each other and seeing each other and breaking down each other's walls.

It's the entire package of funny, sincere and romantic.

Where there is Darkness by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Explicit, 91k)

I may have popped this on at some point when it was a WIP but I have to renew my recommendation if so. Dean and Sam are lighthouse keepers, but Dean keeps driving off the third member of their team until Cas shows up. But will they be able to overcome their past to carve out happiness?

This Dean and Cas are so delicious. I am deeply fond of them both. They are fighting against so much baggage and yet they find in each other something so special. Sammy is also perfectly oblivious in the best way. It's hard to explain what makes this fic special except that it is so engrossing, you will be slamming next chapter

Valley of God by ValleyDean @valleydean (Mature, 145k)

I know. I KNOW. The MCD tag is daunting in a fic like this but I promise that while it is accurate, then ending is softer than you think and it's really the way it should end.

So there are a few things about this fic that make it absolutely delicious. First, it really delves into Cas’ trauma in a really gorgeous way. We don’t have enough fics that look at his angel trauma (we can't for me tbh) and this one uses a religious cult situation to delve into it. Second, Dean and Cas in this fic are just so messy and delightful. Dean wants to believe that Cas is good so badly. Cas wants to protect Dean the same way. It's crunchy. Finally, the atmosphere is amazing. It's creepy. It gets under your skin.

Is it dark? Absolutely. But it's also amazing.

The Darkest Sunshine by StarlightOfFandoms @starlightoffandoms (Explicit, 35k)

If murder husbands is your thing, this one is a delight of a fic. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man serial killer, a notorious murderer who goes after monsters (in human form). People who are guilty of abhorrent crimes. But when he goes after Cas, a professor believed to have murdered several students, he discovers an innocent man being framed. Together with Cas and his team, Dean decides to find the real killer. He just has to pretend to be Cas’ boyfriend until they succeed.

The fake dating trope in a murder husbands fic was a total delight. So was the fact that Dean doesn't work alone and has a full support system to go after the worst of the worst. It's an intriguing concept done really well. Dean in this fic is an interesting blend of sociopathic tendencies, a strong sense of justice, and a willingness to do anything for those he is loyal to. Cas is intrigued by Dean and accepts him as he is. It's a really great combination.

A Weed In Any Other Place by VioletHaze @scones-and-texting-and-murder (Explicit, 63k)

On the other end of the spectrum is this fluffy rom com. There is some angst, but most of it is soft, sweet falling in love along with supportive friends and family.

Cas is a writer. Well, Cas had a book published and now he's desperately trying to write his second while convincing himself the first was probably just a fluke. Writers block is a bitch. That is until his car breaks down and he ends up at a little shop called Winchester and Son. By some weird trick of fate, it's exactly what he needs. He has the most productive day in years sitting in their waiting room. So he comes back, and keeps coming back. The extremely cute mechanic with green eyes doesn't hurt.

Cas is a disaster at social situations in a relatable way. Dean is struggling to put away some bad lessons from his dad so that he can find what he wants instead of what his father pushed on him. Both have a lovely support system. Charlie, in particular, makes me deeply fond in this fic.

i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha) @you-cant-spell-subtext-without (Explicit, WIP, 33k so far)

My lovely Tumblr wife is back at it, writing the most delightfully chaotic fic based on Misha's prompt awhile back for President Cas and Fast Food Janitorial Staff Dean Winchester. It's a Cinderella story and in equal parts hilarious and adorable. Also it is a Dean-saster/Cas-tastrophe pairing which is always fun plus there's a 2 person love triangle situation.

Dean's stuck in a miserable job with his only escape being his love of How I Met Your Mother and the Tumblr blog he devotes to the fandom. But when a handsome man walks in one night after hours, things heat up. Too bad the man in question is actually the President.

It's a romp and a love letter to fandom.

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic recs #deancas fic recs #destiel fic rec #deancas fic rec

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shutuperce · 6 months

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your fall 2023 byler reading list 🍂🍂

BIG BYLER FIC REC DUMP cause i haven't been writing a lot but i HAVE been reading and y'all need to read these! hope u enjoy as much as i did <3

got your spell on me, baby - @astrobei -Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 7,919

TW: none

'To be fair, Will’s costume is great, now that Mike knows what it is. And, okay, wait-

“Oh, this is so good. This is so good.” Max points at Mike, wheezing. “Because you’re dressed as-”

Will’s still looking straight up at the sky. The length of his neck is very, very flushed. Mike can feel his entire face going redder than Vader’s lightsaber. He clenches his hands into tiny little fists, and says, around a groan: “I’m not Han Solo, guys.”'

THE halloween byler fic. the party at college, bi lucas sinclair content, halloween party shenanigans.

these nerds, using star wars to flirt 🙄

background lumax & their amazing couples costume, el & will power sibling duo!!!

bowie references to heal the soul

all in all one of my favourite getting-together fics for this time of year :)

what a match: i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet - @perexcri - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 28,150

TW: guns, blood, gore (just demodogs though no human gore)

'One month ago, if you had asked Will Byers what he’d do if Mike Wheeler threaded his fingers through his hair, looked him dead in the eyes, and started leaning in for a kiss, he wouldn’t have said this.

He wouldn’t have said he’d be staring right back into those yawning dark eyes, one hand on Mike’s waist, the other against his cheek. There wouldn’t have been any lightning in his veins or blood rushing in his ears.

He wouldn’t have said that Mike Wheeler would be tilting his head in the opposite direction, eyes widening just the slightest as if asking permission, his mouth slightly parted.

He wouldn’t have imagined it at all.'

SO SO GOOD. apocalypse post s4, background jancy and platonic stobin, interruption trope x10000 so it's SO SATISFYING at the end.

WILL WITH A GUN.

jonathan & mike solidarity <3

all in all amazingly well written mike and will being blushing messes. love them. fluff in the apocalypse.

take my hand, wreck my plans - @parkitaco - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 6,297

TW: discussion of past trauma

'"I am not taken," he says out of habit, even though he kind of is. He and Will aren't together - he blushes at the thought - but they do spend an awful lot of time together, and Mike doesn't ever find himself wishing he was anywhere else. "Will and I are-"

"Ooh, I didn't even say anything about Will!" Max crows. "Oh, this is excellent."

Mike hides his face in his hands even though she can't see him. "Oh my God. Can you put Lucas back on, please?"

Max cackles in to the receiver, the sound fading as Lucas presumably wrenches the phone out of her grip. "We gotta go, Mike," he says, laughing a little. "Max has class and I'm driving her."

"Tell her she's the worst," Mike grumbles, fiddling with the phone cord.

"Say hi to Will for me!" Lucas sings, and hangs up before Mike can protest.

Mike groans and flops back on his mattress. It's going to be a long year.'

part of a series!! byler college au, friends-to-lovers, background party friendship, AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES. OH MY GOD, THEY WERE ROOMMATES??

taylor swift title... do u really need any other persuasion

the whole series is just AMAZING. mike & will getting a break, living together at college and figuring shit out <3

i might be hoping about this - @astrobei - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 15,321

TW: none

'Will lets out a small squawk as Mike’s hand— his very cold, very freezing hand— finds its way around the blankets and under his sweater. “I’m sick, you weirdo,” he says, half-laughing into the side of Mike’s head, “I have a fever.”

“I don’t care,” Mike mumbles, “you’re warm and I’m cold. This is nice.”

“You’re going to get sick,” Will tries, for the umpteenth time, but it’s pointless. Mike Wheeler is stubborn and hardheaded and he never does anything halfway— not even this.'

established byler at college!! so yeah i have a love of college byler and this is one of my top fics for sure. 2nd astrobi fic on this list because i love their writing <3

will gets sick, mike takes care of him. need i say more?

silly goofy guys living together & doing silly goofy domestic shit

this fic makes me SOFT.

accidentally on purpose - @itsromeowrites - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 5,019

TW: none

'It starts out with a kiss. An accidental kiss. Because Mike is sleepy and Will is pretty, and who can really blame him? And then there's another one, just as accidental. But the third? Well, that may be a little more on purpose.'

literally smiling so hard at this fic. like hello. soft secret boyfriends and loads of party content, all the kids are okay <3

established byler, how the party finds out. all fluff all the time. jonathan attempts the Talk. mike has no idea what's going on. et cetera.

background lumax, lucas & dustin being lil shits together, and el using her powers to cheat at splashing games. all in all a good time!

and if I get burned, at least we were electrified - anonymous - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]

Words: 14,958

TW: none

'“I’ll leave you be until lunch,” Max starts negotiating, nodding at him as if that’s a good deal. Which—considering it's Max, it is, but Mike doesn’t want to give in just yet. She sighs. “I won’t laugh about the sweater anymore. Or the weak disposition that gives you stupid allergies all the time.”

Mike’s frown deepens, but she wasn’t as mean as she could have been, so he’s gonna take it. He needs to get this out anyways, or he’s going to keep running in circles as if stuck in a hamster wheeler—an accurate representation of his brain when it comes to Will, really. He presses his lips together and tries to figure out a subtle, non-funny way to say it, but he comes up blank.

Fuck, whatever: “I almost kissed Will. Again.”

Max actually has to cover her mouth with her hand, disguising a worryingly loud snort with a cough. The teacher turns their way and stares, then goes back to explaining the exercise on the board. Mike scribbles it down while Max gets herself under control.

Screw his life.'

senior year, post-vecna. the party being friends but also little shits to each other.

madwheeler bandmates!!!

will steals mike's entire closet

they are Dumb Idiots who are mutually pining from afar

and other lovable tropes. takes place in november so good fall vibes :)

#perce reads #byler #byler fanfic #fic recs #byler fic recs

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beardedjoel · 7 months

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pretty little wife | sit tight

joel x f!reader one shot collection

part four of pretty little wife — can be read independently series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 6.5k words — you're hosting a dinner party in the miller household, and as usual, joel can't help but turn it into a chance to tease his pretty little wife. no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, free use kink, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, vibrator play?, overstimulation, food play, sir kink sprinkled in there, dirty talk, pet names for reader, brief mentions of food / alcohol, very submissive reader a/n: anyone else feeling completely normal about husband!joel right now cause i for sure am..... so normal

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

Joel breezes into the kitchen where you’re standing at the sink, diligently rinsing up some potatoes and vegetables for dinner tonight. You’re hosting a small dinner party, more a gathering of a few of your friends to catch up and spend some time together. You typically take turns hosting each other, and you always find yourself a bit giddy when your turn comes back around, relishing in planning the meal and getting the house just right for your guests.

He's just gotten home from work, a time he tends to lavish you with immediate attention, and today is no different - his body quickly finds its way against yours, bringing himself as close as he can get. One of his hands reaches out in your periphery, dropping a bouquet of gorgeously arranged flowers onto the counter before both hands find their way to the sides of your body.

“Pretty girl,” Joel murmurs, chin resting on your shoulder and hands brushing down your sides to your hips, fingers gathering and bunching the fabric of your dress as he goes. You’ve put on a dress you know Joel loves, a sage midi dress with a flowing silhouette but a tight top that certainly shows off your assets. “Perfect choice,” he tells you, breathing against your neck as he brushes his lips there. You giggle a little at the sensation, thanking him.

“Thank you for the flowers,” you tell him, glancing over to inspect all the different colors and textures in the bouquet again with sparkling eyes. You know Joel has been going to the same florist for ages to get flowers for you - he’s absolutely insistent on trying to replace the bouquet as soon as it starts to die off, just another thing he does for you that has you constantly swooning over the man.

“How’s my pretty little wife today?” Joel asks you, sweet and slow with his accent coming out strong, dropping a kiss on your cheek after he asks.

“Better now,” you tell him. “Been a long day, missing you.”

“My sweet girl,” he says, giving you a squeeze and another kiss on the cheek. The feel of his soft lips and stubble makes your heart flutter, and you can’t help but smile wider. Seeing Joel after a long day always seems to soothe something in you, and you’re grateful it’s stayed that way as long as you've known him.

“You got everything ready for tonight, or d’ya want some help in here?” he asks you, peering over your shoulder at everything in the sink.

“Mm-mm, I picked up everything at the store yesterday. Just a little prep work left,” you reply, turning your head to return Joel’s kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, though.”

He seems satisfied with your answer but his hands are still on your hips, pressing into you from behind and he starts swaying slightly.

“Everythin’ looks great, doll. House is spotless, food looks perfect, you’re always workin’ so hard for me.” He presses his lips into your neck a few times, letting a quiet hum out of his throat.

“I love it when you notice,” you reply, lips curling into a sickly sweet smile.

“Always notice my pretty little wife, don’t I? Noticin’ her right now,” Joel quips back, pressing himself impossibly close to you, the solid wall of his torso pressing you flush against the counter.

You nod and make a small noise of pleasure in your throat as you try to focus yourself forward to the produce in the sink, but Joel’s wandering lips and hands are making it difficult to even see straight. You’re finally able to finish getting everything rinsed and ready to dry out, wanting to move onto cutting the potatoes to get mashed potatoes started, but Joel is still pressing you close enough to the counter to stop you from moving.

“Have a fun little idea,” Joel says, spinning you by the waist to face him. You land into place with a hand flat on his chest, looking up at him with an expectant smile. “For tonight,” he adds on, and your eyebrows raise.

“You’re not going to… right now?” you ask, slightly taken aback, having thought you were reading Joel’s usual signals right, gearing up to have his cock inside of you any minute.

“Could if I wanted, but we’ll have our fun later, baby,” Joel promises with another kiss on your neck that you sigh into. “No, right now I’m gonna let my wife do what she’s gotta do since she’s been doin’ such a good job.”

You feel your blood rushing through you, your ears hot and prickling, not fully understanding Joel’s motives or plans right now. “O-okay, darling. Thank you. I promise I’ll be done soon,” you tell him, flashing a smile his way.

“Good girl, back to work, then.” Joel spins you back towards the counter and gives your ass a slap, eliciting a cheery giggle from you. “Come see me after, mkay?”

“Of course,” you coo, starting up a quiet humming again when Joel leaves the room as you start to cube your potatoes. Whatever Joel is promising has you working faster than you’d really needed to, all the potatoes cut up and in a pot in nearly record time. You’ve started to nearly ache all over with need for your husband - even with such a vague promise he gave you, your anticipation for Joel doesn’t need much to be triggered.

You amble out of the kitchen, eager to seek him out and hear the shower running in the distance upstairs from yours and Joel’s bedroom.

You hope to catch him in the shower and hop in with him, one of your favorite things to do, but he’s already turning the water off and emerging from the bathroom a few moments later with a towel wrapped around his waist. You feel your insides squeeze a little along with your thighs, clamping at the sight of him glistening from the water, hair slicked back, droplets dripping all down his chest.

“That was fast,” he says, cocking a brow at you as he sees you sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for him.

“Didn’t want to keep you waiting,” you say pleasantly, which elicits a smile from Joel. How eager you are to be there whenever he needs you makes his cock twitch under the towel and he bites back a groan.

“Got you a little somethin’.”

Joel doesn’t waste any time heading to his dresser and pulling a small box out of the drawer. Your mind immediately makes guesses as he walks it over to you - a new dress to wear tonight, lingerie for afterwards, perfume - some of the many things Joel often buys you spin through your brain as you try to predict what’s inside.

When you open the box and see a pair of pretty but plain black underwear, you’re not necessarily surprised, but your brows furrow when you notice something slightly different about them.

“Wh- what’s this…?” you ask, gingerly touching inside and your eyes go wide as your fingers touch a small, hard rubbery piece. “Joel… you’re kidding.” He’s beside himself if he thinks you can get through the night wearing panties with a vibrator inside of them and not have a complete meltdown in front of your guests.

“Serious as can be, honey,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Thought it’d be a little fun for the both of us tonight.” His smile curls in the devious way it does when he knows he’s got you right where he wants you, and you snap and break under that look each and every time.

“I- I -“ you stutter, grasping the panties in your hand now and inspecting them.

“You don’t wanna wear ‘em for me?” he asks, the smirk on his face continuing to grow. He knows his question is in vain, that you’ll put them on simply because he’s asking you to.

“I do… I j-just. I’m worried.”

Joel approaches closer, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. “Promise I’d never embarrass you, y’know that, doll,” he replies, wrapping his hand around the back of your head and splaying it out, holding you in place as he continues pressing his lips to your hairline.

“You’re right, of course you wouldn’t,” you agree, feeling yourself becoming more confident in the idea already. Joel has never let you down, and you doubt he’s about to start today.

“Jus’ wanna have a little fun w’ya tonight. If you’re good you know what you’ll get afterwards,” he teases, a hand dragging slowly down your bare arm and you suck in air through your teeth, shuddering at the touch.

You whimper and breath in shakily at the thought of possibly hours of stimulation before finally being able to get Joel’s cock inside of you. You’re practically getting wet just at the idea of being constantly teased by Joel tonight.

You wordlessly shimmy your dress up your thighs to reveal your lacy red panties to Joel, keeping your eyes locked on his as you spread your legs slightly. He crouches in front of you, settling between your knees and hooking his thumbs on both sides of your underwear, giving them a tug. You lift your ass off the bed, helping him slide them down your legs before he tosses them aside and grabs the new pair from the box. He takes his sweet time, letting his fingers brush over your skin slowly, leaving a buzzing along your thighs before he finally gets them in place.

“Fuck, I wanna eat this little pussy so bad, doll,” he groans, his eyes trained between your legs, half just mumbling to himself. “Lay you back right here and fuckin’ taste you,” he rambles on, hands gripping tightly on either side of your thighs, pupils getting larger and eyes hungrier. He sighs, fluttering his eyes for a moment before bringing himself back and loosening his firm grip on your legs.

“Gonna torture myself a little today, too with this thing,” he says, holding up the tiny vibrator with a smirk as he pointedly slides it into the small pocket in your underwear with two fingers. You nearly cry out at this smallest of touches from him, realizing it’s about to be a very long evening.

You’re sweating bullets wondering when Joel is going to choose to use the vibrator first. You’re sure this is half the fun for him, watching the tension in your body, your drumming fingers as you finish setting everything up - plates and silverware perfectly placed on the table with shaky hands while you await your friends’ arrival. Once everyone is inside, hugs given, settled in and seated, your mind races as you go to open a bottle of wine, feeling the vibrator there still doing… nothing. You swear, if he turns it on while you try to pour it you’ll have his head, but he just stares at you, eyes glimmering with mischief as you narrow your eyes in his direction.

A small smile from him sets you at ease, a reminder of his promise to never embarrass you, for this to be a fun thing for the both of you. You grin to yourself and decide to give in to him and do as he says, make it a fun evening for the both of you.

Joel has steaks on the grill for you and the six friends you have seated and waiting for dinner while you pop into the kitchen to grab the cheese board you’d made to let everybody sate their appetites for a bit before dinner. Joel sees you through the kitchen window in the backyard, and you’re only able to catch his gaze for a moment before your entire body jolts in surprise, and you place your hands against the counter to steady yourself.

A faint, steady vibrating had started between your legs, and you blow out a breath before peering back through the window at Joel. He has a devilishly handsome grin on his face as he gives you a single wave through the window with his phone in his hand, and you can catch from afar that there’s some kind of app open, concluding it’s the one controlling the sudden change in between your legs. You straighten yourself and wave back with a renewed sense of determination to drive Joel equally as wild as he’s driving you right now.

You swallow hard and put on a smile as you deliver the charcuterie board to the table, thankful for the tasteful, relaxing music you’d put on throughout the house that might help cover any possible noise from this vibrator. You’re not sure you’d survive the embarrassment of everyone here finding out about yours and Joel’s little game tonight.

Joel comes back into the house briefly while the steaks are cooking, flicking his eyes up from his phone to your face as he stands in the doorway, watching intently as he clicks on the screen and you feel the intensity between your legs increase. You squirm a little in your seat, willing your eyes not to roll back as your body starts to respond to the pleasure.

Joel comes to stand behind your chair, a hand on your shoulder and rubbing lazy circles as he glances down to see your legs clamp together tightly underneath you.

“Good?” he says, leaning down to whisper in your ear. You nod and smile for him, and he looks satisfied as he steps away and back outside to the grill.

You feel the vibrator going the same, steady pace and you already feel your core tightening and heating up from the constant stimulation, although Joel has it on a relatively low vibration. He suddenly cuts off the vibration from where he’s standing outside, and you breathe an unnoticeable, long sigh of relief and feel your entire body lose all the tension that had been building.

When Joel turns the vibrator back on during dinner, pulsing it on and off a few times, leaving it on longer and higher for each turn, you start to stiffen in your seat and glare at him teasingly, and he simply raises his eyebrows in return as if to say what are you going to do about it?

You simply dig back into your meal, trying to ignore the way your body is starting to tighten and scream at you from within, a heat pooling between your legs as you start to feel yourself soaking your panties, trying to ignore the wetness and desperate thoughts of needing Joel to touch, fuck, and completely wreck you. Joel is barely giving you any mercy, seeing how far he can push it before you completely snap as he discreetly changes the settings all throughout the meal.

“E-excuse me, everyone, I just need to check on one last thing for dessert in the kitchen,” you say to the group, trying to not expose yourself too much by clenching your teeth together as you speak. You clank your fork down harder than you mean to in your daze and push your plate away. Your eyes glance over the table as you stand up, catching on Joel’s serene but cunning expression, and you can’t decide if you absolutely love or despise your husband right now.

You exit the room as quickly as you can without garnering any suspicion and push through the kitchen door, thankful you have such a separate space from your dining room to take a moment. You hear Joel in the distance telling your friends that he’s heading to help you out in the kitchen, to enjoy more wine and you’ll just be a few more moments. You hear him approach behind you and you whip around, trying not to show how your knees are starting to feel wobbly.

“I can’t decide if I want to kill you or fuck you,” you say bluntly, and Joel chuckles with a deep rumble, running a hand through his beard.

“I think we both know which one it’ll be,” he teases back, and you frown before letting a long, desire filled sigh through your nose when the vibrator speeds up after Joel clicks his phone screen. He approaches closer to you, bracketing his arms on either side of you around the counter. “You want me to stop?” he asks, quirking a brow.

“It’s s-so much, all night…” you say more softly, quickly giving in to him. “But n-no…”

“You wanna come now, baby? Tell me you want it and I’ll make it happen, hm?” Joel says in that sweet but condescending way as he takes in your heated face that’s starting to glisten from holding back on all the pleasure you’d been feeling. You bite your lip at his gravelly voice, the words he’s saying going straight to your aching cunt.

You nod deeply and slowly, letting your eyes flutter shut. You lean your forehead onto his chest, clamping your legs together against the vibrator.

“I want it, can’t take this any more Joel,” you whimper, and Joel wraps his arms around your back, keeping you tight against his body.

Joel holds his phone in one hand and turns up the vibrator another click, and you fight the loud cry that climbs up your throat as you fall apart into his arms. He spins you around quickly, grasping at your chest, squeezing your tits into his hands and kneading at them, brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples. He pushes you against the counter as you start to shudder, knees wobbling and completely using him as support.

One hand slips down to cup your cunt through your dress, feeling the strong vibration and pressing it harder into your begging, swollen clit. He grinds himself into your ass and groans softly, and you feel the hard bulge of him press into your plush cheeks. “Fuck,” he murmurs, seeing the effect he has on you as you’re gasping and breathing little moans for him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant quietly, starting to move your hips into his hand, trying to get as much friction as you can. You can feel the familiar sensation of you losing yourself, your core tightening deep inside of you and begging for release. You wiggle and moan, trying not to feel the pressure of finishing as fast as you can with a room full of people waiting on you.

“C’mon now, let it all go, doll. Soak these little panties for me,” Joel urges when he sees you starting to get in your head. He rubs his fingers on the vibrator, moving it against your clit and you can feel the difference immediately, breathing in sharply as you start to shudder down onto it. He immediately slaps a hand over your mouth, hearing the wild moans that threaten to sneak out loudly into the room. “Shh, shh, gotta be quiet, we got guests,” he adds on in a cocky, hushed tone next to your ear.

“I k-know,” you whine, “But I’m gonna - oh -” You feel the tight coil in your belly finally snap, letting you release all of the pent of pleasure and frustration from this evening. You breathe heavily against Joel’s hand, pathetic moans vibrating into his palm as he holds your shaking, taut body up for you.

“Tha’s it, pretty doll. Look so good when you come,” he murmurs as he gets a better look at you when your head lolls back onto his solid chest. You whimper his name repeatedly but it’s lost among the cover of his hand over your open mouth. When you start to relax and come back to reality, Joel loosens his grip, and you suck in a gulp of air and try to steady yourself. You blink dazedly a few times, pushing your arms out and leaning against the counter for several moments.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, and Joel responds with a kiss to the back of your head before he pulls away from you. You want nothing more than for your husband to take you up to bed, peel your clothes off of you and hold you, letting you doze off until he decides to wake you up with his head, cock, or fingers between your legs. Joel’s little toy had done a number on you, and you were exhausted, but the sound of laughter in the next room pulls you back, reminding you that you still have a dinner party to wrap up.

“I’ll hold ‘em off, you just come out with that pie in a few, mkay?” Joel says, and you turn to look at him as he walks away, flashing a wink in your direction.

You try to get your head back on straight, taking a few more steadying breaths before heading to the fridge, pulling out the chocolate chiffon pie you’d made. You quickly get the whipped cream and chocolate shavings you’d prepared on top, barely even registering your actions as you try to stop your head from spinning. You think to smooth your clothing and hair, praying that nothing is out of sorts from your rendezvous with your husband.

You hear the unmistakable sound of Joel chuckling with your friends as you enter back into the dining room, and everyone stops to ooh and ahh at your pie, and you smile, thinking you must have pulled off your little secret with Joel well enough that nobody noticed just how long you two had been gone for.

When everyone finally heads out for the evening, Joel’s heavy footfall approaches the dining table where you’ve started to stack up plates and dishes, clearing them into a pile to take to the kitchen. You’re quietly humming to yourself, but it turns into a surprised, breathy yelp when Joel promptly wraps his forearm around the top of your chest, tucking you tightly into him. He’s already taken the liberty of pulling his cock out of his pants on the way into the room, and you can feel it in full pressing against your ass, heat immediately radiating off his length into you. A few drops of precum smear and rub onto the fabric of your dress as he grinds into you, already gathering your dress up around your hips.

He murmurs under his breath, something about needing you, tight little pussy, can’t wait and you can barely hear any of it through the blood rushing through your ears. You’d expected Joel to be a bit needy and uncontrolled after the events of this evening, the way he’d teased both of you, but he’d barely shut the door behind your friends before his cock was out of his pants and into his hand, jerking it a few times to take the sting off before he could reach you.

He tightens his grip around your chest, his forearm nearly pressing into your neck now as he gets your dress over your ass and makes a growling sound deep in his throat.

“Liked these little panties tonight, didn’t you? Bet they’re a fuckin’ mess,” he says as he reaches in between your thighs to feel evidence of his statement - evidence that is surely there from the way you’d been teased and pleasured by Joel’s new toy all night.

You nod and let out a breathy moan in reply. “Made me need you so bad, baby,” you tell him, and he loses himself, tearing your underwear to the side at the same time he presses his hips forward, using a hand to quickly guide his cock between your legs and swiftly pushing himself inside of you.

A relieved, desperate grunt escapes his lips with a sigh and he pumps himself fully into you, burying his cock fully in one movement. You breathe in sharply and spasm around him, your body not having caught up with the unexpected intrusion just yet. Joel pushes past the hesitancy, only pulling you even tighter to his body and shushing quietly in your ear, barely giving you a moment before he’s moving inside of you.

“S’okay, I know y’can take this big cock, I know y’can. Jus’ open up, little doll, relax f’me,” he says, quiet and steady, as he makes small movements inside of you.

You wince a little at the way you tighten around him, the pain and pleasure quickly mixing together as your body tries to meld with the way your mind wants Joel so badly right now.

“Jus’ breathe, that’s it. Little more, baby,” he coos, starting to pull out more each time before thrusting back inside of you. “Takin’ me so good, my good little wife, take this cock whenever I need y’to.”

“Y-yes,” you manage to stutter out between your clenched teeth, finally feeling your body relaxing under his grip, melting into him. Your muscles lose tension and you feel yourself fall back, letting him completely crush himself against you. “It’s all yours.”

“This pretty pussy is all mine, is it?” he says as he thrusts into you harder, nearly taking your breath for a moment, so you just nod eagerly for him. “Can feel it… loves my cock don’t it? She’s givin’ right in to it.”

“Mmm,” you moan out, nodding again. “Give me more, baby.”

“Harder ‘n this? That what you want?” he taunts, and you can feel the smirk against your neck as his lips clash there for a few brief moments. You moan and throw your head back into him as he sucks harder on the skin, using his teeth to bite before he releases it to inspect his work with satisfaction. He doesn’t wait for your answer, just pounds into you harder, taking everything he’d been needing from you this entire evening full of painful teasing.

You lose yourself as you always do with Joel, letting the feel of his cock become everything to you in that moment, blocking anything else out as your eyes flutter and roll back when he grips your throat with his hand for a brief moment, squeezing it.

“Need to see your face, doll,” he mumbles with a heady voice, his mind screaming at him for even considering pulling out of you for the time it would take to turn you around. You let your body go, pliable and easy to move as he pulls out of you with a lewd noise and spins you by the shoulders, hoisting you up onto the table and you sit, heavy lidded eyes gazing at his sly smile, looking almost as if a lightbulb has gone off above his head.

“Sit tight,” he says before disappearing, leaving you to try to bring yourself back to reality, your body cold and missing him already. He glides back into the room moments later, holding the shiny bowl from the stand mixer in the kitchen.

“Get your panties off,” he tells you as he approaches back to where you’re perched on the table.

“Don’t want to rip these ones?” you say, taunting him by spreading your legs wider and lifting your brows.

“Swear, you’re testin’ me tonight, little doll. Do it,” he says with a wry smile. You feel your heartbeat ramp up, understanding the small shift in dynamic, the way you’re now truly Joel’s to play with from here on out. You do as he says, maintaining eye contact as you try to lift your hips and shimmy your underwear down. You fling them off your leg and they land nearby with a quiet thud.

“Good girl,” he says, crowding between your legs. You wrap them around his torso, hooking your ankles over each other and try to pull him closer. Your hands reach out and toy with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin.

“Y’want to take this off, do you?” he asks, cocking his head and taking your chin in between his fingers. “Gonna have to ask nicely.”

“P-please, Joel, can I take it off?” you ask, hoping the pleading look in your eyes is coming through to him.

“Little nicer,” he says, and you can feel his cock hardening against where it’s pressed on your belly, loving the way he has control over you right now.

“Please, s-sir,” you say, casting your eyes down from his.

“Go on, then,” he says with a nod of his head, releasing your chin. Your fingers scramble forward, clumsily clutching at the buttons of his flannel, trying to quickly undo them. He shrugs the shirt off, revealing his chest to you, salt and pepper hair curling along it and you smile and run a hand down his pecs and down to his belly.

Joel inches forward while you’re preoccupied and grasps underneath your thighs, lining himself up and pushing himself into you again as your mouth pops open to inhale a sharp breath.

“Thas’ right, just take it so good, honey,” he murmurs as you flutter around him, your body readjusting to the size of him another time. “God, just so tight f’me.”

He rolls his hips into you, groaning as he starts to become consumed by the feeling of you giving him everything he needs. He stares into your eyes with a lustful, half lidded gaze and you see Joel’s index and middle finger dip into the bowl he’d set next to the two of you on the table. He brings them up to your eyeline, covered in leftover whipped cream from dessert.

He hooks his thumb to your chin and slides the two fingers over your bottom lip, and you don’t dare to open them until he says, knowing that’s what he’s waiting for. He spreads the cream along the seam of your lips, watching you dutifully keep them closed for him, eager eyes trained on his.

“Open up ‘n taste,” he says, “Need somethin’ in that pretty mouth of yours.”

You instantly lap your tongue out and he jams his fingers in, his knuckles smearing the cream from your lips that you hadn’t gotten yet. Your tongue wraps around his fingers, lips closing and sucking the light cream as the sweetness hits your tongue.

“Mmm,” you moan softly, loving the combination of his fingers in your mouth while he thrusts himself gently in and out of you. Joel tugs his fingers out of your mouth and he repeats getting a finger full of whipped cream, upping the speed of his hips snapping into yours along the way. You gasp a little around his hand as he shoves his fingers deeper, making you gag for a moment.

“Prettiest sound,” Joel comments with a smirk, and you continue to lick at his digits as they sit in your mouth. You start to nibble at them, giving them a swift bite and Joel hisses through his teeth.

“Oh, you wanna be rough, huh? I’ll show you fuckin’ rough, sweetheart,” Joel spits out, a more menacing tone to his voice now. He sticks his entire hand into the mixing bowl and brings it to your face, smearing the cream down your cheek and trailing it to your neck as you watch on, eyes filling with shock, and unsurprisingly to you, desire. You try to catch his fingers in your mouth along the way, but he’s too quick, pulling away just in time to give you nothing. Joel goes back for more in the mixing bowl and palms your chest, pulling your dress down as he starts to spread the whipped cream all across your now exposed tits. With his palm splayed out, he presses you down, laying you flat onto your back across the table.

“Bite the hand that feeds you and you’ll get punished, got it?” Joel asks, and you tremble a little at the way his cock is now stretching you full each time, as far in as he can seat himself.

“Yes… sir,” you manage to get out as your body starts to jostle with Joel’s increasing effort to pump himself in and out of you. His eyes train on your tits, bouncing with each movement as they pop out of your dress more and more.

“Good girl,” he replies, keeping his palm pressed onto your chest, groping at your tits among the sloppy mess of the whipped cream, his hand slipping and sliding across your curves, brushing your nipples. You clutch onto his arm and dig your nails in as you feel the pleasure building, all the sensations he’s sicking upon your body completely taking over.

Joel’s other hand grasps underneath your back, pulling you up slightly for his head to bend down, his mouth warm and inviting against the hard buds of your nipple.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” Joel says, lifting his mouth off of you to lick his lips, revealing the mess of whipped cream now in his beard before he dives back in, biting and swirling his tongue on your nipple, alternating between both of them.

“God, feels so good, don’t s-stop…” you cry out, and you hear Joel grunt a little, realizing you’d forgotten yourself momentarily. “Please… don’t stop, sir.”

He makes a noise of approval against your tits and continues the way he’s absolutely ravaging you, sending you calling his name in a few short seconds as he finds the sensitive, spongy part inside of you with his cock.

“Tha’s right, lemme just take care of you, fuck you till you forget where you even are.” Joel’s voice is so low and rumbling, the way it gets when he’s fully enraptured in the moment, in you.

You start to reach your second high of the night, writhing and moaning on the table as Joel looks down at you from above, watching with satisfaction at the way you’re absolutely helpless for him, face contorted in pleasure with your lips parted so perfectly as you whine his name. His name. Everything he’s seeing, everything you’ve become in this moment, is all because of him, and the thought alone spurs Joel towards his own climax, feeling the perfect shape of your cunt fluttering around him and squeezing as repeating waves of pleasure take over you. You’re shaking in his grip, and Joel scoops you up, pulling you flush with his chest as your hips buck forward into his while you come.

He groans with the effort of slamming into you, riding your high out for you as he continues to set the pace, starting to move faster and more erratically, desperate to fall off the edge with you.

“F-fuck, right there, gimme what I need, little doll, lemme use you.”

You slump slightly in his hold, your body exhausted yet still needy for him, your over sensitive cunt now still fluttering around his length, begging him for more. He slips a hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you cry out, your face scrunching up and tears nearly springing to your eyes, unsure of how your body can even take more from him right now, but it urges you on nonetheless.

You can hear him sliding in and out, the obscene slickness gushing around the two of you, your thighs and dress starting to get a coating of your arousal and it makes you feel even more feral to feel just what Joel does to you. It’s never made sense to you, the way he affects you, can make you wet just by existing, but you can’t say it’s ever been much of a problem.

He doesn’t let up, panting breaths right near your ear as he buries his head in your shoulder and takes and takes and takes. You feel yourself tumble off the edge again into bliss, and Joel follows right behind, hips stalling as he pumps a few more times into you and stops with himself fully seated inside of you, releasing everything he has.

You clench around him, not sure if you’re crying or sobbing or moaning at this point, so consumed by everything Joel is and the way he’s so much a part of you right now, your bodies melded together.

When you both come down, you feel your vision speckled and starry, looking into Joel’s eyes, pupils completely blown out.

He dives in for a lengthy, opened mouthed kiss, running his tongue along your lip as you both clash your lips and tongues and teeth together over and over. His hips buck a few times as you start grind into him slowly, and he makes a whimpering sound, breath catching in his throat.

“F-fuck, baby, y-you -“ Joel pants, his face twisted in a confusion of pleasure and overstimulation.

“Feels good still?”

He nods, lips finding yours again as you pleasure him a few more moments, his half hard cock grinding into your spent cunt, both of your arousals a mess around your bodies coming together. He finally tears his mouth from yours with a loud grunt and pulls back enough to signal you to stop. He’s breathing heavily, closing his eyes for a long moment before opening them and smiling at you.

“Little devil,” he says, smile turning towards a smirk.

You open your legs wider, and as Joel pulls out and steps back, you hold your dress around your hips so he can see the absolute mess he’s made you tonight, and he gazes in satisfaction between your thighs. A small shake of his head follows a breathy laugh.

“Don’t fuckin’ tempt me.”

“I’d never dream of it,” you tease, and Joel lurches forward, scooping you up underneath the legs and carrying you towards the stairs.

“Gonna get a filthy, messy little girl like you in the shower, then in that bed where you’re gonna wear absolutely nothin’ cause I said so, and I’ll teach you a few more lessons, how’s that sound?”

You laugh, genuine and clear before wrapping a hand around his cheek.

“I’d bet anything you’ll fall asleep before I’m even out of the shower.”

Joel frowns and makes a disapproving tut before he cracks a smile he’d tried to hold back.

“God damn it,” he murmurs quietly with a slight irritation. “Hate that y’know me so well, darlin’.” Joel shakes his head a little, and you know that you're right - you can see the sleepiness in his eyes despite how badly he wants to do everything on his little list. The combination of a hearty meal, a good fuck, and wine alone the way tends to knock your husband right out every time.

“I’ll still wear nothing, if you want me to,” you offer teasingly, just to add insult to injury. Joel’s eyes narrow in your direction but he can’t help but picture the vision of you, angelic and asleep, body on full display for him tomorrow morning where he can pick right back up where you two left off.

“Ain’t even a question.”

taglist: @aphterthoughtt @bbyanarchist @amy172 @hazzaismyreligion @ohheypedrito @msmorningstaarr @kamcrazy123 @madhere

#fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 28 days

Text

the compound part two

words: 2.6k

warnings: very brief illusion to sex (still sfw), alien apocalypse au!, violence, guns/shooting, little bit of angst

part one / part two

you let out a groan as you wake up, stretching before realizing you aren't laying atop your usual bedroll laid over grass and soil, but rather a real bed.

“shh, it's okay.” rafe presses a kiss to your forehead.

“oh my god, it was real.” you open your eyes to rafe hovering over you, a look of slight concern in his eyes.

“it's real, im here.” he says softly. you look down at your body. rafe had partially undressed you to make your sleep more comfortable, as well as bandaged the cut on your leg.

“was it bad?” you ask, tilting your knee to see your calf. the gauze is completely clean and sterile white, not something you've seen since the aliens came.

“it wasn't too deep. you won't need stitches but will have to stay off it for a bit.” rafe moves to lay down next to you, letting you snuggle into his chest. you block it out for a minute. block out the pain, the fear, the death and destruction. in this moment, it's just you and rafe.

“i also cleaned you up a bit. still sleep just as deep.” rafe smirks. you examine your body closer, arms and legs gently washed clean from the dirt and grime built up that felt inevitable.

“how did you get here?” you question. “how did you become in charge of all of… this?”

“my uncle, the one in the military. he was stationed here. i figured since he was high ranking, he would be kept in charge of the base while the other soldiers went to fight the aliens…” rafe continues to explain his story. how as soon as he arrived, his uncle made him his right hand man until the base was attacked by aliens. rafe managed to survive along with a few others who looked to him for leadership. they reinforced the base and expanded ever since.

“how much food do you have?” you ask.

“enough.” rafe simply says, which makes you frown and pick your head up to look at him.

“is it true you don't help anyone? even those who beg?”

rafe sighs. he knew this topic would inevitably come up. you have a soft heart, sure you've built up walls after being burnt too many times trying to help others, but your nature is still gentle and sweet compared to rafes.

“i gotta put my men first. i can't just give handouts to anyone who wants them. we'd have nothing left for ourselves.” rafe hopes the explanation is enough to dissuade you. “but you're first now, baby. the men here will protect you. you don't have to fight anymore.”

you allow rafe to turn you onto your back, to kiss you while hovering over you, relaxing his body into yours as you reconnect, trying desperately to make up for lost time.

“when is the next hunting party going out?” you ask rafe, scratching your fingers over his head, rubbing through his hair as he looks at the various papers scattered on his desk. maps of nearby areas, lists upon lists of ingredients, even a guide to native plants.

“probably dawn tomorrow. we are hoping for deer.” rafe says, glancing at the schedule that he has planned out. more detailed for upcoming days, while far off plans are just jotted in.

“can i go with them? im pretty good with a bow.”

rafes hands stop shuffling through the papers, air in the room suddenly going stale. “y/n… it's not safe outside the fence.”

“i lived outside the fence for months. i can hold my own. plus, your guys will have guns.” guns can be hit or miss after the aliens shut down a lot of technology, but thankfully the military ones kept in the base were in pretty good working order. still, everyone prefers their deer to be taken down with arrows.

rafe pushes away from the desk, turning to pull you down onto his lap. “no. im sorry. just… no.”

“rafe, im going to go fucking crazy just staying inside the fence. you barely even let me outside.” it's been two months of adjusting to compound life, two months of reconnecting with rafe, watching him lead with confidence and authority. two months of the itching feeling to move growing.

“i know the alien attacks have lessened. a lot of people think they've pulled out, but we still have occasional sightings. you know how quickly things happen. if you're outside, you're vulnerable.”

you sigh, seeing the look in rafes eye. so much pain and hurt. “okay.” you nod. “okay, not tomorrow. but at some point, i need to do… something, anything.”

“we'll figure it out.” rafe nods. “i promise.”

“thank you.” you nod. so many things have changed about your dynamic since the end of the world, but it still feels familiar at moments, you sitting on his lap, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his.

“i need you.” you whisper against rafes lips, hands moving down his chest.

“i should keep working.” rafe hums, even as his hands move underneath your shirt.

“but you won't.” you giggle.

you stand behind rafe as he hands out assignments. compound life is a lot different than anything you expected. they focus much more internally, whether it's reinforcing the base or making things more comfortable for the men and few women there.

“klaus, tim and fiona…” rafe reads off the names, the three stepping forward. you know tim a little bit, with him being one of the closest men to rafe, but you haven't interacted with most of the people, rafes orders keeping everyone busy.

“we are turning the central courtyard into a garden. fruits, vegetables, whatever you can get to grow.” rafe explains. he's taken you past the central courtyard before, completely surrounded by compound buildings. it'll be a lot of work, it's completely overgrown, no big trees but years of brush build up.

“y/n.” rafe calls you forward next. you blink at your boyfriend before stepping forward. “you'll be project lead.”

“yes- yes, sir.” you've never called rafe sir before, but it seems right considering the environment, everyone else addressing him as such. rafe didn't mention this assignment to you, but you're glad he did as he hands you a packet of papers, nodding to you to head off with the three compound crew.

you glance back at rafe as you head out of the auditorium. he's already assigning new orders, but catches your eye, nodding to you for encouragement.

you go through the papers with everyone, finding the three people rafe chose an easy mesh. you should have known, they're likely hand picked for you rather than for the actual project.

“i was a botanist before…” klaus says, pausing when your eyes widen, clearly surprised. you never would have guessed a man with such a hard exterior had a job like that before the aliens came.

“a lot has changed since.” klaus grunts out. “everyone is different.”

“i know.” you frown, breaking eye contact. “i didn't mean any offense.”

silence stretches out until fiona clears it with a clearing of her throat. “well, as a botanist or whatever, what plants or shit do we… well, plant.”

you like fiona already. it makes sense that she has been thriving at the compound, her personality being even tougher than most of the men.

klaus begins to explain, and before long the day is over, parting ways as you head back to rafes chambers.

“sorry i sprung that on you.” rafe says when you enter the room, clearly holding back to see if you're upset. “i just wanted to give you something to do.”

“it's okay, i understand.” you nod. springing it on you also deprives you of the chance to say no, which you can't blame rafe for. “it's also good that the rest of the compound sees me contributing.”

“it is.” rafe nods. “can i kiss you then?”

“yes, im not mad.” you smile at your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his lips meet yours.

“our canned food is running low. barely, but it is. this garden is really important, baby.” rafe says softly. “whatever plants grow best, we will be planting more.”

“it's a good plan.” you nod. “sustainable.”

“i guess it makes sense.” you shrug as you fill out your reports. it seems silly to hand in papers stating to rafe what you tell him every night, but it's important to document the progress of the garden.

“what does?” tim questions, also charting his own responsibilities, having split up the work between the four of you to make it easier.

“that the native plants are the ones growing best.”

“i didn't even realize that.” tim laughs, his southern accent thick. he's one of the few at the compound who were stationed here before the attack, originally from louisiana, but claimed he has no interest in going back, knowing there's no one out there waiting for him.

“i think your boy toy is thinking about expanding the garden.” fiona smirks, always coming up with creative names for rafe, especially after seeing the way he hovers over you, even shooting daggers into klaus when he got just a little too close while planting seeds.

“that'd be great. i know we have canned food still and the deer but having fresh food is so needed.” you look up to the courtyard, having chosen to work in an office with a view of the garden. the fresh air is also great for you. you know it's the real reason rafe gave you the job. it allowed you to be outside while still being surrounded by four walls.

“let's call it for tonight.” tim says, setting down his pen. “we have all of tomorrow to work on the reports too.”

“sounds good.” you nod, waving goodbye to everyone until you're the only one in the room. you look out onto the flourishing garden once more before heading out. you know you're not truly alone as two men shadow you, armed to the teeth with guns and knives. your protection, sanctioned by rafe. you turn the corner of the compound, hearing their footsteps speed up to keep visual of you.

instead of turning down the hallway leading towards rafes bedroom, you turn the opposite way towards the exit. you take a deep breath upon pushing open the doors, allowing yourself to breathe in the fresh air, the smell of trees and nature thick instead of the musty smell inside the compounds old walls.

“ma’am.” a harsh voice rings out from the shadows, making you jump. “rafe said to keep you inside.”

“oh please.” you roll your eyes. “the compound hasn't been attacked in months. ill be fine.”

at the capping of your words, a gunshot sounds from further down the fenceline. “get back inside, now!” the man yells at you, sprinting to see what was shot at. maybe it's just a misfire, or someone got lucky and saw a deer.

your detail finally realizes where you've gone, the doors opening behind you as shouts sound out from where the gunfire was heard. you look back at the men, sworn to protect you. they usher you back inside, but instead you turn the other way, towards the noise and action.

you just want to see what's going on as they creep behind you. you get closer, having to squint through the darkening sky to see that the fence has been torn down in one section, flattened like a stampede has rolled through. that's when you hear it. the familiar clicking and rattling associated with the aliens. you hold in your gasp, knowing noise will just attract them towards you as you press your back into the brick wall, hoping that you're camouflaged as you peek around the corner of the building, seeing the alien, a grotesque mix of bloody flesh and robotic gears and metal.

“y/n!” a familiar voice whisper-screams at you. “i need to get you back inside, now.”

you turn away from the corner as the alien bends down over a man who is clearly already long gone to see tim, a gun in hand.

“kill that thing.” you gesture your head around the corner, wanting it gone before it can do any further harm.

“my orders are to keep you safe. ill get you inside first and then we will take it out.” tim explains in a quiet voice. you both realize far too late that it wasn't quiet enough as the clicking gets closer.

“run!” tim shouts, throwing himself around the corner, gun spraying bullets as you sprint, the two guards pull you back, pushing you across the opening towards the closest doors.

you scramble when you hear a scream from tim. “no!” you shout, grabbing one of their guns. one you barely know how to use, but you need to save your friend.

you rush back around the corner when you see the alien over top of tim, one of his arms in its disgusting mouth. you let out a war cry, hoping the bullets previously sprayed into him will be enough for your shots to be the final straw and kill it as you raise your gun, firing at least enough to distract the monster, head turning towards you.

you back up but continue shooting, joined by your guards who quickly flank you. it must be a mature alien, with how many bullets its taking to take it down. you back up, allowing the men to shoot as you back towards the entrance, ready to take cover if needed.

“y/n!” rafe shouts, bursting through the doors. “get inside, now!” your gun clicks, out of bullets. you drop it and run to rafe, letting him pull you inside. you look through the windows on the door, through the thick bulletproof glass as the alien finally falls.

“tims hurt, he needs help.” you tell rafe, but he doesn’t seem to hear you as his face is one of anger.

“you disobey me? i told you to stay inside, and look what happens when you don’t listen!”

“disobey?” you rip yourself out of rafes hold, taking a step back as men rush out the doors between the two of you, to help tim, get rid of the aliens nasty carcass, and most importantly to the compound, repair and reinforce the fence, the alien obviously able to exploit a weak spot.

you press your back against the wall until the stream of men stop. “in case you forgot, i’m not one of your soldiers. im your fucking girlfriend.” you stomp away from rafe, knowing he can’t follow as he has to lead the men outside.

“tims fine.” its the first thing rafe says to you as he enters into your bedroom. you’re changed into your pajamas, but are sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling as your toes touch along the soft rug.

“his arm from the elbow down wasn’t saveable, but he’ll live.” rafe undoes his weapons before moving to kneel in front of you. you should speak, reply, but you can’t force your mouth to open.

“i’m sorry. sorry for treating you like that.” rafe places his hands on your knees, glad that you don’t push him away. “i love you. i love you so fucking much and i don’t want to lose you. i’ll give you what freedom i can but- but i need you to keep yourself safe too. if you wanted to leave the building that badly, you could have told me.” “i know.” your voice is hoarse. “i love you too.” “im just so fucking scared all the time. i think about you constantly. whenever i can’t see you, im just fucking anxious.” rafe places his head into your lap, relieved when your fingers rub over his scalp, his hair cropped short in the same fashion as most of the men.

“you’re not gonna lose me, rafe.” you promise him. “we found each other. here, at the end of the world, we made our way back to each other.”

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dimepdf · 2 years

Text

STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST.

remember to show your support by sending me a message or reblog! I always appreciate feedback on any of my works and appreciate everyone who comments.

key: ☁️ fluff , 🕊 angst , ❕ smut , ❔ on hold

★ EDDIE MUNSON/JOSEPH QUINN!

nice for what? ☁️ 🕊❔

─── ☆ black-coded | fem!reader | social media au

after falling in love with you on the set of Stranger Things, your relationship with Joseph blossoms not only on screen but also off.

ONESHOTS:

sex, drugs, and rock.❕

─── ☆ 3.3k | fem!reader | friends to lovers

you devise a plan to confess your feelings for your best friend Eddie, and things quickly escalate beyond your expectations.

the sweetest pie.❕

─── ☆ 1.2k | fem!reader | threesome

when you agreed to going to a high school party with your two boyfriends, you expected the night to end differently.

trying new things.❕

─── ☆ 2.6k | fem!reader | dom/sub

the night begins with new discoveries as Eddie, as well as you, learn something new about himself.

study date.❕

─── ☆ 1k | hopper!reader | friends to lovers

it took a lot of convincing to have you best friend Eddie study with you, who knew that all you had to do was offer a blowjob?

take my breath. 🕊❕ ─── ☆ 2.9k | male!reader | cheating

You couldn't stop drooling over your bandmate Eddie Munson, who was obviously smitten with Chrissy Cunningham. It's too bad that you could care less about the blonde anyway.

warm bodies.❕

─── ☆ 1.3k | fem!reader | dom/sub

It's so hot outside that the last thing you want to do is listen to Eddie's begging. But it's difficult to resist when his thighs look so good in those jeans.

down low dealer.❕

─── ☆ 3.6k | fem!reader | semi-public

when you go into the woods to get drugs from Hawkins bad-boy Eddie Munson, you run into a minor snag: you don't have any cash. but Eddie, being the sweetheart that he is, puts an offer on the table that you just can't resist.

are you mine. ☁️❕

─── ☆ 5k | fem!reader | first time

growing up in a religious household, sex has always been a taboo subject for you, but with Eddie, you trusted him enough to help you handle that new experience together.

intertwined. ☁️

─── ☆ 2.2k | male!reader | secret relationship

Joseph has a hard time trying to keep your secret relationship knew to the other cast member.

distant lover. 🕊❕

─── ☆ 2.1k | fem!reader | cheating

you love your boyfriend Steve so much, but you also couldn’t help the hold that the curly haired bass player had over you.

your lips, my lips, apocalypse. 🕊

─── ☆ 4.4k | male!reader | mutual pinning

who knew that when you befriended the braced faced little kid from your DND club would lead to this.

oh step bro.❕

─── ☆ 1.8k | fem!reader | stuck fetish

while just wanting to wash your clothes you get stuck becoming familiar premise to something Eddie has seen in his porn history.

DRABBLES:

period case. ☁️

your boyfriend Eddie nervously taking care of you during shark week.

best friends brother.❕

Eddie feels guilty for falling for you while he also has a thing for your younger sister Chrissy.

with all your heart. ☁️

their reaction when you say that you love them for the first time.

emo boy. ☁️❕

he may not look like he gets bitches, but honey that dick was 11 inches. part two

★ STEVE HARRINGTON/JOE KEERY!

ONESHOTS:

sex, drugs, and rock.❕

─── ☆ 3.3k | fem!reader | friends to lovers

you devise a plan to confess your feelings for your best friend Eddie, and things quickly escalate beyond your expectations.

never in your sun. ☁️

─── ☆ 2.9k | fem!reader | pining

he was pacing his home while holding a piece of paper with your phone number scrawled on it in his fingers.

wired interview. ☁️

─── ☆ 1.4k | fem!reader | social media au

Joe Keery's first public interview with his lovely wife.

house tour interview. ☁️

─── ☆ 1.7k | male!reader | social media au

after Joe Keery and his co-star break the internet by coming out as exclusive, the couple decide to give the fans just one more peek into their lives by doing a house tour of their new home.

DRABBLES:

with all your heart. ☁️

their reaction when you say that you love them for the first time.

★ ROBIN BUCKELY!

but i'm a cheerleader. ☁️ 🕊❔

─── ☆ slow burn | fem!reader | friends to lovers

Robin is having a hard time managing her emotions as she hides her unclear sexual orientation and harbors a crush on a girl who also happens to have an eye for Robin's obnoxious coworker Steve Harrington.

ONESHOTS:

i think she likes girls. ☁️

─── ☆ 1.3k | fem!reader | established relationship

Robin decides she needs to do something to de-stress herself and her stoner girlfriend, with whom she is completely in love decides she knows exactly what will help the redhead relax.

DRABBLES:

with all your heart. ☁️

their reaction when you say that you love them for the first time.

★ MAX MAYFIELD!

ONESHOTS:

midnight love. ☁️

─── ☆ 2k | fem!reader | pining

you silently prayed that Max would forget what happened and never bring it up again, but a month passed and neither of you brought it up. you felt strange feelings for Max but tried to suppress them.

★ JONATHAN BYRES!

ONESHOTS:

worth you. 🕊❕

─── ☆ 7.4k | male!reader | pining

you'd spent a lot of time with Jonathan, and before you knew it, your feelings for him had surfaced. you tried to hide the uneasy feeling that surrounded you whenever you two hung out alone.

DRABBLES:

nsfw head-canons. ☁️❕

what type of partner Jonathan would be.

★ WILL BYERS!

everywhere.

─── ☆ season one | male!oc | mutual pining

as a boy growing up in Hawkins, Indiana, Kaylin didn't understand a lot of things about his family or why the boy he had feelings for suddenly went missing.

★ ARGYLE!

ONESHOTS:

basement couch.❕

─── ☆ 1k | fem!reader | slight sub/dom

your boyfriend Ari being in love with your small boobs.

won’t bite.❕

─── ☆ 2.5k | fem!reader | established relationship

your boyfriend Argyle was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, but as his first girlfriend, you knew you'd have your hands full.

red roses.❕

─── ☆ 1.4k | fem!reader | car sex

Ari finally asked if you were faking it because you were quite the performer, just not a particularly good one.

head over heels.❕

─── ☆ 2.2k | fem!reader | enemy to lovers

Argyle being in love with his best friends sister, his confession to her getting a little out of hand but at least he got to lose his virginity as a massive plus.

DRABBLES:

nicknames. ☁️

cute dating head canons.

★ JIM HOPPER!

ONESHOTS:

playing dangerous.❕

─── ☆ 6.1k | fem!reader | age gap

you would claim that the trauma of caring for your siblings and witnessing your mother struggle to put food on the table each day did not have a significant impact on you, but in truth, you had major fucking daddy issues.

stargirl interlude.❕

─── ☆ 2.8k | fem!reader | authority kink

your parents may have sent you away to live with your grandparents in Hawkins because you were always a risk-taking lady. Sadly, they never would have imagined that you would end up having your back blown out by the towns sherif

#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — nav ]#stranger things

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dorylinae-supremacy · 2 months

Text

Thinking about an AU where Techno, Wilbur and Tommy are all the harbingers of the actual entire apocalypse and Phil (just some insane guy) decides that those are in fact his kids and starts gaslighting the absolute shit out of them about it.

Rambles under cut!

I wanna try something where they're just more insidious and passive killers than anything else, theyre mostly just biding their time and watching as wherever they're lingering around gets sicker and just starts withering away.

They're a slow moving threat that just can't be stopped and for some reason (because Kristin thinks its funny) Phil just isnt affected by them.

Phil: Oh Techno's always been like that ever since he was a baby Techno: I have literally never met you a day in my life Tommy: Idk man... you have always been like that Wilbur: Oh my death he's actually getting to us

Its a mix of that combined with that "how did he know I was a gemini" meme

Phil: Wil! I brought you some salmon, I know how much you love it! Wilbur: How the fuck did you know I like salmon Phil: I'm your dad silly, of course I'd know :-)

I just think itd be super fun since Phil in this au is literally just some insane dude. He literally lies about their entire childhood but does it so consistently and so realistically that it throws them off guard.

I also have a few ideas where they start referring to Phil as their dad in the beginning as a sarcastic / mocking thing but accidentally just getting themselves even more adopted as they do it.

Phil: Wilbur put on a coat Wilbur: I don't need one! Techno: Go on, Wil. Listen to dad Wilbur: Ugh fine. Only because dad wants it, though

Stranger: Whos this? Tommy: Oh thats our dad. He kinda just tags along Stranger: Aww thats so sweet! You got his nose and everything Tommy: I- wh- no he's not actually our da- Phil: I know he did! Isn't he the cutest, spitting image isnt he? Tommy: You're not my dad! Stranger: Oh someones embarrassed! Phil: Yeah he's going through a rebellious phase right now

Just a mixture of things like that where it starts as calling him it but then accidentally actually giving him parental authority along with that.

I also wanna explore how Kristin and Phils relationship would be like. Maybe her as death being very bemused by this silly human that just decided she was his wife one day.

She literally visits him in dreams and stuff and he just acts as if they're married and have been for years. He complains about their 'rambunctious kids' and how he has to threaten them with her so that they behave sometimes. She finds it so silly and just cant help but play pretend.

Kristin: Hello, human Phil: My love! Its been so long since I've seen you Kristin: We've never met Phil: Oh don't say that! It hasnt been that long. I've just been far too occupied with our boys to visit too much Kristin: Our boys? I made them Phil: And they came out beautiful! I'm so glad Wil and Tech got your eyes. I was hoping they would.

I think that'd be a core part of this AU as well. Everyone is playing pretend but then it just fuzzies and it all becomes real for them. At first its a joke that Phil is her husband and their father but then they get lost in the fantasy and fun of it all and actually accept him as such.

Phil has no ulterior motives either, he's literally just a strange insane man that heard stories about neotrio and started thinking they were his kids one day. He genuinely believes his delusion and they end up accidentally making it a reality.

He just makes lucky guesses and plausible lies often enough that he's still shiny and new, he's still fun to play with and thats what ends up 'tricking' them all.

#dory writes #harbingers AU #dark sleepy bois inc #dark sbi

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luveline · 9 months

Text

steve zombie au —you and steve celebrate his birthday with a frank discussion and some new fun. [5k]

fem!reader, afab!reader, fluff, MDNI smut (hand job, implied oral), cw for mentioned circumstances of the apocalypse; food insecurity, danger, zombies, nightmares, injury

April 29th starts exceedingly warm. Summer is fast approaching, and it's being felt all over The College community. You can forget zombies — a world without air conditioning is much scarier.

You're kidding, obviously. Geeks are scary. Both for what they are, slimy decomposing husks that want more than anything to chew on you like a dog toy, and what they could be, the end of your life. There have been times where you wished for something of the same calibre, but these days you have someone you want to hold onto.

And that someone is turning twenty three. He's still sleeping, the limp hair in his eyes freshly shorn. He doesn't know that you know it's his birthday today, but you do, so you'd traded with Mel the used-to-be hairdresser to get you both haircuts. You would've traded just for him —her services aren't cheap— if you thought he'd ever let you, or ever get one without you.

It's exactly that reason that you'd wanted him to have a haircut in the first place, and why you want him to have a good birthday. He's so loving, and sweet, and good, he deserves to feel special. He needs to know how much you appreciate him.

You're hoping you've prepared enough to do that.

You brush the sweat damp hair out of Steve's eyes as he begins to stir. You've been up for hours, now, and it's a credit to how much you like him that you would wake up early on a day you could've slept in, sweaty but safe in the circle of his arm. You've washed up for the morning so he doesn't have to wake to your oily face, and you press a spearmint-fresh kiss to his cheek as his eyelashes strain.

"Hey," he says, rough with sleep.

You love his voice in the mornings. "Hey, handsome. Good morning."

You lay your cheek against his pillow, watching as he opens his eyes. Your hand roves over his naked torso selfishly, feeling the soft indentations of muscle. He's put on weight since you got here. It's amazing.

"It's fucking–" He stretches out beside you, his sentence scythed in two by a low groan. "S'fucking so hot. I just woke up and it's so hot."

"I think it's finally summer."

"I don't know," he argues lightly, "it shouldn't be this hot. Not for another two months, Jesus."

He traces your face with his eyes as he talks, and as his sentence finishes he pauses his searching. He brings a hand up between your two bodies and rubs his thumb against the highest point of your cheek. "I guess it's almost May."

"It's April 29th," you say softly.

His lashes come together slowly, a subtle suspicious squint souring his otherwise serene expression. "Robin told you?"

"Yes, she did. Happy birthday, baby."

He looks at you a little longer. You like to be looked at by Steve because you know he's thinking nice things as he does, but for those long, stretched seconds you worry you've given him a reason to wrinkle his nose. Maybe it's cringy to be romantic about it. After all, he'd kept his birthday to himself the entire time you'd known him.

"Thank you."

He tugs you in for a hug, so tight you swear you can feel his heartbeat against your own.

"You're welcome," you say, words smothered under his cheek.

He clings to you. You can't count how many hugs you've shared after so long together. Even before Steve told you he loved you on the floor of this very room, before he asked if you were together in a cold car shivering for your lives in the middle of an abandoned highway, he was hugging you when you needed them, or when he needed you.

You feel your eyes warm thinking about it, until the heat becomes tears, and the tears roll down over the bridge of your nose. You push your head as far as you can over Steve's shoulder, your hands hugging behind his head to keep him with you if he tries to move. You're selfish, and you don't deserve him but you have him. It counts for something.

"I love you," you say, tears making your voice all wobbly. Cicadas call from the open window, and the earth seems deathly still. Steve is quiet for a while and you worry you've put him off crying on his special day, but then his arm shifts against your back and his embrace tightens again.

"I can't believe it took me," —he presses his forehead to yours— "twenty three years to find you."

"You found me ages ago," you remind him, fighting for your life because isn't that the most romantic thing, isn't he the sweetest guy?

"Are you crying?" he asks, frowning.

"Not really. I just love you."

He holds your face in his palm and gives you a gentle shake. "I love you. But you know that. It's embarrassing how much you know that."

"Embarrassing how much you love me?" you ask, poking for extra compliments. Again, you're selfish.

Again, it counts for something.

Steve pushes your shoulders back into the bed and follows with his weight on top of you, his chest pressed to your chest and an elbow by your arm so his face doesn't smash into yours. You're a little daunted —Steve doesn't come on to you so suddenly, but it's his birthday, and you just asked him how much he loves you. Maybe he's excited.

His laugh fans over your face.

"Sorry," he murmurs, "I saw the look on your face." He turns his head to kiss your cheek. "I love you so much. That part isn't embarrassing, at all, I just mean I would've had the shit kicked out of me in high school for being whipped."

"You're whipped?" you ask lightly, trying to maintain casualness as his lips dip lower. His kisses show how he's still far from being properly awake, mouthing at the column of your throat one slovenly inch at a time.

"I'm worse than that," he says, his lips parting over your pulse.

His teeth scratch.

"Steve–" You laugh as he sucks your skin between his teeth, not his worst hickey but the start of a sore one if you let him finish. "Baby."

He pulls away, his words scorching against you, "You sound flustered."

"I am! You're biting me."

"I'm not not biting you," he agrees, kissing his hickey. It won't last, he hadn't worked at it for very long, but it turned you to jelly under his big hands. "Sorry, I like when you do that."

"Do what?"

"You relax," he says with a smile.

"I relax with you."

It's true and untrue. It takes you time to decompress, for months you hadn't felt safe, and then things had happened to rob you of that feeling again, but Steve's persistence and insistence that nothing is going to happen is one you believe. You crawl into bed with him and sometimes it takes an hour, but you relax. You sleep well with him.

"I know," he says, pulling up to meet your eyes again, "but when I kiss you like that you go somewhere else. I'm not saying it to be cheesy, although it's definitely cheesy and I'm a romantic weapon." He smiles at your smiling. "I'm trying to describe it to you but I got a C in English and I never went to college."

You laugh again. He would've been hard pushed to go, considering the circumstances.

"We're in college now," you say.

The community that you live in has been nicknamed The College. It was a smaller college campus once upon a time, and now it homes a couple hundred people of all ages trying to make a life.

"Let me brush my teeth and then I'm gonna kiss you stupid," Steve says, climbing off of you.

There isn't an ensuite in your room but there is a small sink, and he stands there in his boxers and short-sleeved t-shirt bent over the basin. He puts paste on his toothbrush and tries to talk to you around brushing, his hair rumpled and sticking out at the back, his boxers lower on one hip.

You're trying to talk back to him, but you've noticed something you hadn't meant to.

Steve has a bulge.

Steve usually has a bulge, you're not stupid, you know your boyfriend is well-endowed. It would be impossible not to notice, you've woken countless times to something warm pressed against your thigh, but you honestly hadn't cared. You and Steve haven't had sex, and that doesn't bother either of you, you know it with surety. Your relationship has always weighed heavily on other things. But you have to wonder if he wants it. You know you do, in moments like this where he's had you pressed down into a box and nipped at your neck, suggesting the salacious to the shell of your ear.

He swills out his mouth and washes his face as boys do, rough and quick, water dripping down his neck and soaking the hairs surrounding his face.

You have your heart in your throat as he slides back into bed.

"You have your shift soon?" he asks, hiking up on his pillow and pulling you toward his arms.

"I swapped with Shirley to have today off, it's your birthday."

"Ah, but when I gave you that necklace for your birthday there was no need."

"It's different."

Steve kisses the top of your head, sounding fondly defeated as he says, "It's not different."

You turn in his hold, head by his elbow as you look up at him with a question you don't wanna ask in your eyes. He stares down at you.

You shift your leg against him, and you can't miss the slight twitch of his mouth. Like he enjoyed the feeling.

"Stevie," you murmur. "I have something I want to talk about, but I think I'll probably die of shame before I can say it out loud."

"Is it your period? I already told you it shouldn't bother you, honey, it's natural–"

"Progressive," you say with a laugh, "but no, I know you're not a big baby about it." The only thing that bothers Steve about it is that you're in pain when it happens.

"I don't know what else would embarrass you like that," he says.

"We don't have to talk about it. It's your birthday, I want to celebrate," you say, regretting your honesty.

“It’s my birthday and I wanna talk about it,” he says. “Hit me with it. Tell me tell me tell me tell me–”

"No," you mumble, knowing you'll have to tell him now.

"Please?" he asks.

His tone slows everything down. Your mixed emotions, your apprehension and nerves, your excitement over his birthday, they slip away into the palm of his hand where it strokes under your breast. He takes it all.

You look up into his face and try to look serious.

"How come we don't have sex?"

Steve is noticeably thrown for a loop. His hand lightens its hold.

"Do you want the short answer?" he asks slowly. "Or the long one?"

"Why are there two answers?"

Steve is quiet for a second. You sit up some, not entirely but enough to feel as though he's hugging you rather than acting as a place for you to rest your head. He helps you without asking, hand like a brand considering the topic of conversation.

"I just–" A muscle in his jaw moves as you talk. "I know sometimes I can– that you want to. I mean, that your, um–"

"That I'm obviously excited," he says.

You both cringe, and then you both laugh quietly.

"Yeah. And you've never tried to do anything. I just wondered if maybe you don't want to, ever, or if you're waiting for me. If you are waiting for me…"

"You're ready," Steve says.

"Yeah."

"I kind of knew that already, babe." Steve's fingers curl in toward your rib, knuckles resting against you, an arm behind your back. His face dips down to yours, and he kisses your cheek fondly and almost too softly, you barely feel it. "Not that you're obvious, but, you know, we've been together for a long time. I'd be an idiot if I couldn't read you."

"So why haven't you asked me?"

"Why haven't you asked me, 'til today?" He sounds immeasurably happy, now, his tone golden and silky smooth as pure honey, murmuring. "Being with you has never really been about that. I mean, we never could've on the road, how could you relax there?"

"Maybe it would've relaxed me."

"Maybe, but I kind of assumed it wouldn't. And I… I didn't want you to think you didn't have a choice, either, like I was looking after you so you had to do stuff you didn't want to do."

"I wouldn't have thought that."

"Good, then I was less of a dick than I thought." He pauses, breathes in the skin of your cheek as though it smells like something other than hand-soap turned face wash. "There were times when I really wanted to. But I guess most of the time I wasn't thinking about it, and then we got here and," —he smiles against your cheek— "I didn't want you to think I was saying I loved you and that having sex would make a difference." He turns bashful. "It sounds stupid now I'm actually telling you."

"It doesn't," you say, immediate and soft with awe. "It doesn't."

"Then you weren't safe, and you were having nightmares all the time, but now you're doing better and lately I've been thinking the same thing. Why aren't we?"

You turn your face to his. "Well? Do you have an answer?"

His lips pout up and his eyes squint a little as he nods, a melodramatic defeat. "The short answer. I can't find a box of fucking condoms."

You're speechless.

You cough.

"...You've been looking?" you ask.

"Sometimes. I looked in the mall pharmacy but they only had finger condoms. What am I gonna do with one of those?" He laughs at his own joke.

You're thankful it isn't awkward. Thank whoever for your stupid beautiful boyfriend who cares about you more than anything. Too chivalrous to make a move but horny enough to look for condoms when his life is in danger.

You settle your arms heavily over his shoulders and look him in the eye. "I really don't think that would work for you, Stevie."

"You're flirting."

"Is it working?"

He touches the tip of his nose to yours. "It always works, but I really can't find any rubbers, I didn't want to ask you without being able to deliver. We're stuck."

"I mean, maybe we could just… not use one?" you ask, genuinely wanting to hear his opinion.

The side of Steve's nose touches yours, his breath warm on your cheek. "I thought about it. About asking you, but I just need you to be safe." He pulls back. "You couldn't have a baby."

"I don't know. I don't think I could now, but we'd make it work."

"Do you want one?" he asks.

You think about the obvious. It's too fucking dangerous. Pregnancy before the apocalypse was dangerous. Pregnancy now is so much worse. It could kill you, and if it didn't labour could, and if it didn't and you did have a baby, that baby would live this life. You're too young to make that decision, you think. And if none of it mattered and you and Steve were a couple in a regular world, would you want one then? So soon?

"No," you say. It feels good to say, because Steve will support every decision you make and you know it.

"No. I don't want you to have one either." He licks his lips. "Maybe someday?"

You smile at his hope. It cracks a yawning gap down your chest to the pit of your stomach.

"Maybe someday," you say.

He kisses you. Chaste but somehow sharp, pressing at the same time. Not trying to initiate anything he can't finish, but now that it's on the table the implied what-if feels heavy between you.

You hug him as the kiss breaks, your lips by his ear. "You could pull out?" you whisper. You love him and he's amazing but it's still a mortifying question.

"I don't think that always works. Is it worth it?" he asks.

Not really. Not if you aren't prepared to make big choices.

His arms wrap around you, and his hand rubs your back. "It's not like it'll never happen, honey."

"Steve," you say softly, hand running down his back, "what if we did other stuff? Sex isn't just… I could make you feel good." You're trying hard not to sound crude, harder still not to sound as scared of his rejection as you feel. He's more than allowed to say no, but you hope he won't. You hope he wants you.

"You could…" He swallows. You hear it loud and clear.

"I could make you feel good," you repeat, lowering your voice. "What do you think, handsome?"

"You don't have to do anything you're unsure of," he says. His breathlessness has your heart leaping in your chest.

You pull back to see his face, find his cheeks warm as you press your palms to them. "I'm not unsure. If you want it, I want it. How do you feel?"

"If you… if you change your mind," he murmurs.

"I'll tell you," you say. You give him a look, the kind of bright-eyed, loving expression you save for special moments with him, pouring all your adoration and trust and wanting out for him to see. You lift your chin in question, and when he kisses you, you take it for a soft yes.

You kiss him while you stand on knees, while you ease yourself over one thigh. Your knee rubs up against him and he shudders into the kiss, his hands leaping to your waist.

"Do you," —you break away from his lips but can't stop yourself from dispersing honeyed pecks between words— "ever do anything by yourself? When I'm away? When I'm at the kitchen and you don't have to go, have you–"

You're asking because you have a great suspicion that he has —one time you came home and he was so, so needy, clingy and sweet and relaxed. Another you might have found him midway, but he hid it well.

Steve nods hurriedly and steals another kiss. "Just a few times," he says.

"How do you do that, sweetheart?" you ask, your hand trailing down his chest achingly slow.

"I– I lay on your side of the bed."

You kiss him harder than you mean to. "Why?" you ask into his lips.

"It smells like you–"

His hands roving up and down your back give you more than enough confidence to grasp at him wildly, your kissing suddenly, painfully desperate, your top lip on fire as Steve pulls your face down to his. You don't have the wherewithal to speak as your hand coast past his t-shirt to the rising tent of his boxers.

Foreign and familiar at once. You've seen Steve naked a hundred times having lived in close quarters with him for as long as you have, and if Steve hadn't seen you before, all those times he's had to sit in the shower room with you lest you panic someone else is in the room would've made sure. You know what the other looks like bare. What you don't know is how they feel, and how they want to be touched.

You reluctantly break your bruising kiss, resting your temple at his cheek as you look down. You slowly, slowly let your fingertips stroke down the line of his cock, beside yourself with giddy excitement as Steve moans breathlessly in your ear.

"Fuck," he says.

You've barely touched him. You flatten your hand as you approach the bottom of his length, pressing your thumb gently into the swelling of his balls. He hisses at your touching and you look up worriedly. "Sorry, am I not supposed to touch there?" you ask, whispering though there's no one else around to hear it.

"Please," he says. He cuts himself off with a laugh, his head tilting back in pleasure as you put your hand back. "Please, touch anywhere."

"It feels good?"

"Please, honey, keep going," he says.

You rub the length of his cock over his soft boxers, near awed as it hardens. You knew he was well endowed, and you've seen him hard and pressing against his jeans, but it feels different when it's under your hand. You drag your nose against the side of his throat, whispering, "Finger condoms really would've been useless," and laugh as he starts to laugh himself, breathless, throaty chuckling that lights a flame in your stomach.

You start to kiss his neck slowly. Your hand is curious but not shy as it works up and down the length of him. Steve readjusts your grip, the pressure of it, his hand gentle on yours.

Your face smushed to his neck, you watch what he's showing you and try to commit it to memory. It's tugging, almost. Kind but with a firm hand.

"Can I see?" you ask.

"Please." Steve is quick to pull his boxers down, exposing the pale length, his ruddy tip, the tiniest bead of precum shiny as it oozes from the head's slit. Your breath catches at the sight of his hand, his long fingers encapsulating the thick girth of his cock and tugging up. "Fuck," he says again.

"Can I do it?" you ask. "Or is it–"

"Honey, it's okay, you can do whatever you want to me," he reassures. "Just do it, baby, please."

He rarely ever calls you baby. "Poor boy," you murmur.

Steve laughs, as if to say, Fuck you, but he's distracted from his plight when you wrap your hand around his warm cock. He pushes your face into his neck instinctively as you start to move against him.

You've enough sense to spit in your hand and work it around. He's hot, heavy in your hand, tip of his cock to the belly button if you press it toward his torso.

"I don't think I'll last long," he warns.

"How do I– do you want me to be gentler?"

He bucks into your hand with a shiver, groaning like the suggestion is agonising.

"Should I use my mouth?" you ask.

Steve really does sound pained, then, his head falling back, his abdomen rising and falling quick against your bicep. "I'm trying to last, baby." It's as though he's begging for something without saying what he wants.

You try to distract him a little, prolong the inevitable as your fingers flex around his cock. "Kiss me," you say, using a tone you hope —you know— will hook his attention. "Please, Stevie, kiss me?"

He drags his head up, cheeks as red as the ruddy head of his cock, the heat practically emanating from him as he gives you what you want. These kisses are sloppy rather than messy, lavish rather than tired. Your tongue presses at the seam of his lips and your head turns heavily to the left, sighing into his mouth as his spit paints your lips. His cock leaps in your hand, and you speed up just a touch, the skin bunching ever so slightly with your ministrations. It gets harder and harder for him to kiss you as his climax builds, his breath coming in pants, his thighs and stomach tightening in anticipation. You pull away, letting him shudder and whine by your ear, his hand like a vice around your forearm that's not helping but holding you. You push kisses into his jaw, the skin under his ear, and weave the hand that isn't wrapped around his cock into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly as you confess.

"I love you," you say, nipping at his neck, printing red crescents in your wake, "I love you," you repeat, hot breath fanning over your hotter kisses. "I love you," you mouth, resting your forehead against his neck.

His head clamps down on top of yours and breath catches, held, his hand practically crushing your wrist as frantic pleasure builds. You speed up even if you're not sure that you should, and it must be the right thing to do —Steve goes white out still and tense as stone, your eyes widening a touch as the first string of cum spills over your fingers. Something snaps in him and he's moaning like he might cry into your hair, breathless panting as sticky cum bumps down over your fingers with each pump, his cock twitching uselessly in your grip.

You soften your grip but don't slow until he gasps and says, "Honey– ah, ah, don't, don't. Please, that's so–" He laughs deliriously. "I'm gonna pass out."

You take your hand from his cock, not grossed out or anything but definitely not sure what to do now. Steve's all but collapsed beside you, his torso sliding behind you into the pillows, twisted up and breathing hard as he wraps his arms around your waist. It's an odd position, not the cuddling you'd pictured, but you're content to let him cling to you if he needs to. He breathes in harsh breaths against the small of your back.

You watch with a burning pit in your stomach as a last bead of cum wets his cock and seeps into his boxers.

"Did that feel okay?" you ask. His cock twitches again at the sound of your voice. You'll have to ask him what that means.

Steve doesn't answer you straight away. He sits up, and he tucks his cock away, and then he sees the mess he'd made of your hand and laughs. He's definitely high from the pleasure of cumming like that after so long, 'cos he grabs your hand and wipes it clean on the literal t-shirt he's wearing.

"Steve, I could've washed it," you complain, laughing with him.

"I'll wash the shirt," he says. He keeps your hand in his.

"Did it feel good?" you ask again. Low, you're shy to have to ask twice, worried he avoided the question. It obviously felt good, but you want the reassurance that you did it well.

He pulls your hand to his chest and leans down for a kiss. "I'm really worried we shouldn't have done that. That was like, pot. You're gateway drugging me." He kisses you again, and he rubs your hand with his thumb. "Felt good, honey, couldn't you tell? You did– you did so good, honey. It felt fucking good."

You descend into another round of messy kissing. He must feel the shape of your pleased smile, as he smiles too, and it's very difficult to kiss each other seriously when your lips are hardly touching.

"Can I ask for something else?" he asks, pulling away.

Your heart skips, 'cos you think he might ask to fuck you, and after all his pretty sounds and the heat between your thighs, you'll probably say yes, and that would be a terrible fucking idea without any protection—

"Let me go down on you," he says.

You gawp. "What?"

"Let me go down on you, sweetheart, please."

"I didn't even go down on you," you say shyly, heart beating in your stomach now. You shove your hand between your legs impulsively.

"If you went down on me I would've embarrassed myself," he says. He follows your hand, his own slipping between your legs. "Only if you want to."

"You don't have to, Steve, I just wanted you to feel good–"

"This is, like, the best day of my life," he says, "or second best, because the first time you told me you loved me was a fucking immense feeling–"

"'Immense–'"

"–I want you to feel like I just felt," he interrupts your interrupting. His eyes are imploring and his hands are soft where they roam. "We can stop if you don't like it, but I think you'll like it," he continues, rubbing the inside of your thigh teasingly. "If you want it, please let me."

You nod quickly and pull him in for a kiss, though you pause when his lips are close and whisper, "I get to go down on you, then?"

To which your boyfriend groans and kisses you roughly. Your lips are tingling from so many.

"I guess it is my birthday," he says, with a faux-bashfulness that has you both giggling.

Later, at Robin's, when you're sure "We just got each other off repeatedly," has been written across your forehead for everyone else to see, and a small party of the older friends have gathered for a drink in Steve's honour, Christopher tosses a rectangle in Steve's direction. It slides right into his lap.

You both look down.

"Happy birthday, Harrington," Christopher says. "Don't worry, they shrink to fit."

It's a box of condoms.

Steve glares at Christopher for the public humiliation, but he puts the box of condoms in his pocket, and everybody gives you shit for it when you're making excuses to leave barely an hour later.

—

thank you for reading!! I get asked to write about their first time more than anything else which isn't a bad thing, I really love that people like this au and that they want to see that, but I haven't personally been in the mood for that! I figured I'd post this even though it stops at hand stuff / isn't an explicit scene of them fucking because it was gathering dust and also because it hopefully answers some questions I get sent often about their sex lives! maybe I can write them fucking in the future but for now I hope you enjoy :D <3

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader

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kaeyas-beloved · 5 months

Text

a shot in the dark

Character: Wanderer

— his fourth and final betrayal…

CWs: gn!reader (no pronouns), ANGST, hurt/no comfort, death/murder, guns, Apocalypse AU, Wanderer is referred to as such and as Kunikuzushi

val’s no sympathy november masterlist

Started laughing like Light Yagami at work just thinking about the pain I’m about to inflict :)

“You promised me!”

Eyes the colour of a midnight sky - the same eyes you've spent the past few years memorizing, learning and getting lost in their depths during sleepless nights - bubble with tears.

At first glance his expression portrays anger, but you’ve known him long enough to know that there’s more to it. He’s angry, yes, but he’s not angry at you, not really. No, if anything he’s cursing out the world more, for doing him wrong once again, for torturing him by ripping you away from him. Everything he’s ever known feels as if it’s crumbling around him, the barely concealed tremble in his irises telling of the turmoil he’s fighting and losing to.

Denial quickly takes over, your body getting shaken by the shoulders. He starts pleading with you to cut the act, that the joke isn’t funny and never was. Ideas and theories cloud his mind; they say if you cut off the infected part of the body in time you can stop the transformation from human to zombie.

Yet, as he grasps your arm in a firm but not bruising grip, all it takes is one look at the bite on your forearm to know there is no saving you, not with how bloody and discolored the skin around it is. This is the end.

A soft sniffle echoes in the quiet night, his voice softer than before, the note of defeat unmistakable, "You… you promised…"

You did, and faced with the reality that you can't keep that promise, you wrap your arms around him. Whispers of hushes and apologies fill his ear; you're sorry for not being more careful, for acting before thinking, for leaving him alone in this shithole of a world. There will never be enough words or sentences in all the languages to convey the agony you feel at what you're putting him through.

Even though you pull away from him you keep a firm hand on his cheek; you have to make sure he's looking at you when you say what has to be said.

A broken smile appears on your face, your eyes darting all over him, committing each detail to memory, "You're not going to like what I have to say next…"

His reaction is immediate, tone all bark and no bite, "then don't say it at all! Fuck, why didn't you ask me to come along!? Then you could've saved that little girl, I would've dealt with the monsters and you'd be fine right now!"

For a moment you remain quiet; there's truth in his outburst, but you were the one in charge of scavaging today. Your group had scouted a particular place for a few days; no one had taken anything and the volume of zombies was near to none, all that was needed was one person to go raid the place, and you were the lucky sucker.

A tear slips down your face; it’s not like you want to say what comes next, it’s more of a need. As much as you hate to think it, everything from that moment on was business.

Pulling back fully, you reach for his limp hand while stretching to unclamp a gun from the holster on your waist. Anyone with a brain knew what you were about to say, and he didn't like it one bit, eyes sharpening into a glare. Retching his hand from you, Wanderer steps back, shaking his head vehemently.

“No.” He’s firm on his stance one the matter, voice deadly serious as he looks at the weapon you hold out to him. He won’t; he can’t. It takes you parroting the words he said to you before for him to even hear you out. all it takes is a second to stand in front of him again, setting the cool, heavy object in his shaking palm.

"You promised me that if this ever happened, you'd end my life before I turned." In one big step you’re in front of him again, setting the cold object in his shaking palm. Suddenly it feels like he’s holding the weight of tons.

“God I wish I could kiss you right now… I want to so, so bad,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his, your noses brushing. You push the silencer attachment into his other hand, "but I don't want to infect you, so this little contact we have will have to do."

"I love you. I love you so much and I never want you to forget that. My dear Kunikuzushi..." Tears roll down your cheeks freely now as you gently rub under his eyes, “please, do this for me. I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

You’re hurting me, he thinks, but deep down he knows this must be done. It’s what you want.

He doesn’t say much as he nods, grabbing into your wrist again. This time it’s not with the urgency or hope that things could still be salvaged; this time it’s with the deep rooted need to comfort you, “I know you love the stars… I think it’s only right that you get to see them for all they are one last time.”

You’re silent as he drags you to a wide open clearing, the grass reaching just below your knees. The tiny gasp you let out was involuntary, as every time you see the night sky it steals your breath away. Even when you’ve seen them a thousand times in this very spot, they never fail to let you escape from your current reality. How fitting… the perfect place to forget the impending end.

Wanderer is deadly silent beside you as he screws on the silencer, refusing to look at you. He knows if he does he’ll fall in love with your wonder filled gaze all over again and back out in a heartbeat.

While looking around and taking in each twinkle of light, you hear a murmur from beside you, barely intelligible. You hum, asking him to repeat himself.

“I love you too.” He says clearly that time, “I’m sorry for not saying it enough.”

Smiling softly at him, you cup his cheek again, “I know. It’s alright, you didn’t have to say it for me to know you love me.”

In an instant you’re pulled into another hug - your last, you bitterly realize - and you wrap your arms around him without a second thought. God how he wants to kiss you too, he wants to say a proper goodbye.

“Go enjoy that stars…” he whispers to you instead, reluctantly letting you slip away from him.

Kunikuzushi was a sharp shooter, known for always hitting his target. It was a trait he took pride in, but as he aims for the back of your head now… he doesn’t know exactly how to feel, knowing what will happen, able to picture the next few minutes in his mind.

Eyes the colour of a stormy night follow you as you walk into the middle of the field. Silently he counts to thirty, then continues to count. By time he reaches fifty he sees your shoulders ease up, your head tilting this way and that, no doubt looking for constellations.

He chose then to pull the trigger, feeling sick to his stomach as he watches your silhouette fall, knowing that you won’t be rising next to him in bed come tomorrow morning.

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood // @kochothehoe // @ii-lily2 // @esuz

#val’s nsn #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x you #wanderer x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #genshin angst #genshin wanderer #genshin fanfic #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche angst #wanderer angst

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thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask · 2 months

Note

We need facts about YANDERE CREEPYPASTA ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU!!! Only if you want to and take your time. I just got really excited hearing this as I love zombie movies

Something Short (Zombie AU Introduction)

Author's Note: I've had this AU idea for months, but I just never got to it.

Warnings: Murder, Torture, Sexual Harrasment, Kidnapping, Human Trafficking (Mentions), Mental Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Human Experiments, Gore, Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Dehumanization, Sadism, Being Held To Extremely High Standards, Dictatorship, And Obession

Ok, so. I picture the virus that caused the whole outbreak to be a mixture between the walking dead zombies, and the Train to Busan zombies, you know.

Now, you're pretty much one of the few who survived the outbreak. You and your two brothers are wondering around looking for a permanent place of residence. You found one society, but it was destroyed soon after you got there.

In this AU, EJ is the leader of a cannibalistic city. They live in a heavily fortified town somewhere in Pennsylvania. EJ is the doctor and leader of this colony. One day you and your brothers get kidnapped by a few of their members, and you only survived because EJ took an interest in you. Your brothers were kept alive as a way to keep you in line, but you knew they were barely surviving.

One day, your brothers escaped, leaving you behind. Once you escape, your main motivation is reuniting with your brothers, or at least find out what happened to them.

You were trapped with EJ for about 8 months, and those months were hell. Unlike my other AUs and Canon were EJ puts up a fake mask of kindness and care, Zombie AU EJ is heartless right off the bat. It's the end of the world, you either do what he tells you, or you're tonight's dinner. So, you're now labeled as his pet, even the other civilizations know about you, the poor pet of Cannubal King. You would constantly be a victim to his twisted experiments, but after each one he'd comfort you. His constant switched in personality and behavior is what makes you have a blurred perspective of him. In this AU, EJ is the one you're most terrified of, not the Proxies.

Now, the Proxies are opportunist. They are the people in the apocalypse to kill, kidnap and sell people as a way to make it buy. They're the most dangerous to look for because they're doing anything to survive. After 8 months past, you're able to escape. You end up wondering around for about 3 days before you find a little shed in the woods. When you get there, the shed is filled with a decent amount of food and water. However, as you inspect a small can, you're whacked in the head with a crow bar. When you wake up, three men are standing in front of you. They all discuss what their going to do to you before they agree to keep you. The Proxies are no stranger to keeping pets, but each one of them have died in someway, and you're just another replacement. Out of all the proxies though, Toby ends up becoming completely in love and obsessed with you, while Masky and Hoodie have a more possessive, sexual obsession with you.

Ben is the leader of a tech society. His society was able to keep electricity and tech running, making the most advanced civilization. However, getting in is extremely hard, and being a citizen there sucks. Ben is a dictator. If you hold no use to him, you're getting sent out into the heard. You disobey or betray him, sent to the Cannibal Colony. And not to mention, he had eyes and ears everywhere. Everyone in the city has to do their part if they want to stay, and if you don't, Oh well. Also, being one of Ben's favorites sucks even more. If he likes you for your skill or talent, he holds you to an impossible standard, and he enjoys to watch those people try so hard to meet it. No one is ever good enough for him, and he'll gladly torture those who can't obey. If he likes you for his sexual desires, you're running on his schedule. He expects you to do your own work, and fulfill his desires.

So, how do you two meet? You actually met back when you were with EJ. Just like in every AU, Jeff, EJ, and Ben are all really close friends, and EJ paid a visit to Ben in order to collect new Tech. There you caught Ben's eyes. Ben joked with EJ, saying that if he ever got bored of you, he'll gladly take you. He would never hide his stares, and always made his intentions with you painfully clear. He would never do anything to you physically since he likes and respects EJ to much, but he meant what he said when he told EJ that he'd take you if he didn't want you anymore.

LJ is a loner, but what he does is kinda weird. LJ stays in a abandoned fair ground. Rides and attractions are still up. Thanks to Ben, LJ is able to keep the tech working, and it often attracts wonders. LJ collects walkers and uses them for his circus shows. Anyone who stumbles upon his grounds are welcomed to stay. So, there's often people hanging out there because, 1, free food, 2, fun rides, 3, protection from walkers, and 4, entertainment. Once there's enough people, LJ holds a circus show. In this show, LJ summons a gas that drugs everyone for a short period of time. During this time, LJ takes some members of the audience, steals everyone's weapons, and ties them down to their chairs. Then, he uses the people he kidnapped for his twisted little show. Some people would be eaten by walkers, others would be forced to do extremely dangerous stunts, and the rest would just be brutally tortured. But at the end of the show, everyone in the tent would be dead. Now rinse and repeat, and that's what LJ does.

You and your brothers came across LJ's circus, but you guys left after a short while, not aware that you almost lost your lives.

Liu are kinda like mercenary. Liu gathers Intel for other groups, kidnaps people, and sells people just to get by. He's never in one place for too long, and many fall for his charm and charisma. His most consistent client is Ben, and Ben considers him a member of his city, even though Liu begs to differ.

How did you two meet? Jeff had dragged Liu to the proxies place due to the Proxies not keeping the end of a deal they made. You were watching from a top the stairwell when Liu noticed you. Liu is a hard-core sadist and doesn't really care about love or sex, violence his thing due to Sully's influence. But I can see him instantly falling for you. I feel like before Sully manifested, Liu was such a lover boy, but I can see him always being a blunt and manipulative bastard. Despite Jeff being Liu for support, Liu just stared at you as you sat ontop of the stares quietly, hoping that he would take his eyes off you.

Jeff is another wonderer. He could deadass care less about the apocalypse. He's normally by himself, in a cabin, either getting high or murdering people he comes across. He's deadass chilling.

Just like Ben, Jeff met you through EJ. Jeff doesn't really have any feelings towards you at the moment since he doesn't pay much attention to you, but that will slowly change.

QNow, last major plot idea. Since EJ is a doctor, and Ben is the tech guy, I can see the two of them looking for a cure to the virus. But, they often use random people as experiments for these. Back when you were with EJ, you were forced to witness them, and in one test, the person starting to develop sores and bumps all over their body, and it got so bad that they ended up swelling up like a balloon.

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kokomos · 9 months

Text

𝗠𝗬 𝗙𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗘

au! no apocalypse abby anderson relationship headcanons

tags: no outbreak, college student abby, fluff

+ The beginning of Abby's life started out like one from the movies. For a while, life for the Andersons was perfect, until her mother tragically passed away. It was a shock to the whole family, but Abby barely remembered the woman by the time she had turned four and those few memories were now lost for good.

+ Since Jerry raised her by himself, practically since birth, Abby evidently lacked a mother figure. There were the other kids' moms but not one she could call her own. The fact that she had no mother hadn't bothered her much before, actually she rarely ever thought about that part of her life. Until middle school when she hit puberty and Jerry realized that no amount of effort he put in could match that of a woman, someone who knew exactly what Abby was going through. Consequently, Marlene started coming around more to help out; Jerry regarded her as his closest friend and believed she would be a good role model for his daughter.

+ Abby went on to pursue medicine, more specifically surgery but she's still wondering which branch. It's leaning towards neurological surgery, the same as her father.

+ Aside from her medical studies, she plays for the college's lacrosse team. Needless to say, she's the best on the team. Teammates love her, coaches, student fans... Hell even the other team can't help but practically swoon over her. She's just so naturally charismatic and considerate, it doesn't matter if she's on the field. You can catch her checking up on the other players to ask how they're feeling or to give them borderline unwarranted praise. It's just a game at the end of the day, and although she wants to win, enjoying the sport with everyone is more important.

+ You and Abby literally run into each other when meeting for the first time. She's rushing to class because for the one time ever she's late; when suddenly she turns a corner and bumps right into you. For some reason, she disregards all previous efforts in favor of asking you out.

+ She lives at home with her dad, opting to commute rather than dorm. Given that it's been just the two of them for so long, leaving Jerry behind would fill her with too much guilt. Abby doesn't care about living away from campus, especially since Jerry respects her and every part of her life, even the parts he may disapprove of.

+ Don't let Jerry catch you with Abby when she's skipping class. Once or twice is a lapse in judgement, but any more is a pattern and it'll make him think you're a bad influence. He'll scold her in front of you, no shame.

+ Jerry secretly enjoys your presence in the house, noticing how it seems more full of life when you're over. Try to study with Abby, medical terminology is the easiest to help with being that it requires nothing but a term and definition to teach. A couple flashcards later and Jerry will practically give you his blessing.

+ Speaking of, she can't wait to get married. It's something she's dreamed of since she was a little girl; to be so in love with someone that you decide you'll be together for the rest of your joint lives... It was a cute belief until she learned about divorce. Still, she remains overly optimistic in terms of love, believing that whoever she's meant to be with will find her.

+ And you, you really make her happy. She's always been a joyful individual but you've taken that tendency to new extremes.

+ Abby uses old-fashioned dating moves like the ones she's observed from all the classics her dad made her watch in order to 'educate' her. Out of the blue, she'll show up on your doorstep with flowers and chocolate; it's a timeless gift. Takes you on surprise dates when you let her. One time she took it too far and surprised you with dinner to some high-end restaurant you've been wanting to try. Thoughtful idea with an awful execution since you didn't dress for the occasion at all. She didn't even notice until you pointed it out, she was too busy looking at your pretty face to care about anything else.

+ Does not let you pay for stuff! Jerry gave her a card under his name when she turned 18 because he wanted Abby to have total focus on her education and extracurriculars (alongside an active social life). He trusts her completely and knows she's not the type to abuse his kindness by making useless and/or expensive purchases.

+ Dates with you are a necessity, though; it's a weekly thing the two of you committed to within the first month of getting together. Abby thinks it's crucial to set aside one night to eat together face-to-face, she finds the whole ordeal intimate and domestic in an unexpected way.

+ It's probably a month or two in the relationship that she asks if you want to spend the night. In the morning she's almost begging you to sleep over again that night, telling you she'll order in your favorite food and the two of you can watch a movie before a fuck cuddle sesh.

+ The smartest gf ever, she likes keeping you informed on the subjects she's learning about in class. It actually helps increase some of your medical knowledge just by being around her, she's a natural teacher after all.

+ She tries to see you as much as she can around her busy schedule. If she can't see you that day she calls and texts when she's got a second to be on her phone; And she always makes up for lost time. After a quick reunion, she'll lock the two of you in her room for hours, letting you know exactly just how much she missed you.

+ Abby has a bright future ahead of her in this world, one she plans on sharing with you.

— ♡☆

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x you #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine #the last of us fluff #the last of us headcanons

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alkaline-wtr · 27 days

Text

WE WILL SURVIVE

- - CHAPTER 2 - -

Ghost x reader Description: Reader and Ghost make there way towards the city in search of supplies. Genre/Warnings: zombie apocalypse AU, Ghost x fem!reader, survivor!reader, angst, gore, violence, explicit language, weapons, mentions of death WC: 2.6k

My Masterlist

**I finally finished chapter two!! I am awful at starting stories I find it difficult to push passes the mundane slow set up portion of fics but, I think I hit a decent point here in this chapter where it started to flow together. It took me way longer than I wanted to finish this one. Hopefully, the length makes up for it and from here on it should get a bit more interesting. Enjoy. (started a tag list at the bottom)

<< PART ONE

You and Ghost make your way between houses looking for anything useful. So far you had found a few bottles of water and a bit of food. You secured yourself a pocket-knife but still have yet to find a suitable weapon.

You glance over your shoulders anxiously as Ghost pried a board out of the fence for you to cross through the next yard.

"Go on," he demands.

You don't even stop to think as you slip through the gap. Ghost following closely behind. You pause letting him get in front of you.

You continue through the backyard. A nice suburban area filled with an eerie silence.

Ghost scales the back wall of the house peering through the windows to check if it's clear.

You are lost in thought looking up at the tree house perched in the large oak in the corner of the yard.

Ghost works at opening the sliding glass door. He gets it open and glances your way. He clears his throat gaining your attention once again.

"If you're going to stick with me then keep your mind right."

He scolds. You give a small nod and follow him into the house. Ghost's gun is at the ready as he peers around each corner in a loose stance, ready for anything.

You stand back waiting for his okay like you had the many houses before. You couldn't help feeling like you were walking on eggshells with him.

Ghost re-emerges from the living room letting his gun fall to his side.

"Downstairs is clear. Raid the kitchen, I'll check upstairs."

You follow Ghost's orders heading straight into the kitchen. It is quiet as you search through the cupboards. There were just some plates, and cups in the first few above you so you decided to check the lower ones.

As you were crouched below the sink you heard a shuffling come from behind you.

You suspected it was just Ghost coming back down.

"Anything good?"

You ask still rummaging through a cabinet of cleaning supplies.

There was no answer.

A cold, wet, hand places itself on your shoulder. You turn, faced with the corpse of an old man. His bloodshot eyes and greying skin left your stomach in knots.

You let out a scream falling to the linoleum floor in panic, scrambling back away. You tried to grab the knife from your pocket but had no time before the man lunged forward his weight falling over you. You put your hands up defensively, pushing the man's shoulders back trying to keep him at least an arm's distance away from you.

He snarls, snapping his teeth at you, his limp body squirming over you.

You let out a frustrated cry, using all of your strength to keep the corpse at bay.

Heavy footsteps bolt down the stairs, Ghost, having heard the struggle, comes quickly to your aid. His eyes were dark and focused. He pulls the mall up by the back of his tattered tee-shirt sinking the blade of his knife directly into the corpse's skull.

The old man falls lifeless to the floor. His body hit the ground with a thud.

Your chest heaved as you attempted to calm your panic. Ghost seems irritated.

"Are you hurt? Bit?"

He asks. His eyes search your body for any signs of harm. You shake your head.

Ghost seems skeptical about your response for a moment but quickly accepts it.

"This is exactly why I can't keep you around. You're clumsy and unfocused. It's a wonder that you've lasted this long."

The anger is evident in his voice. As harsh as it was Ghostbusters was right, you weren't cut out for survival. You had no skills, no strength, no awareness.

In your mind, you look for an escape from this reality. Which sooner or later will get you killed. You need to learn to stay present and be prepared. Ghost could be the one to teach you that.

"That's why I need us to stick together."

You explain. Ghost shakes his head in pure annoyance.

"Please! I will not make it out here without you. I will do whatever takes, I can do better, I will find a way to be useful."

Ghost can hear the desperation in your please. Ghost had always been the lone wolf type. Especially throughout these past months.

He shakes his head in frustration giving you no verbal response. Before all this Ghost made a living saving people, sacrificing for the greater good. Things were different now, so why did he still care so much?

The both of you had continued in silence. Searching the remaining houses in the neighborhood.

You were upstairs in a master bedroom. The room was nice and put together, almost like the couple who occupied it had just gone off to work for the afternoon.

It was hard not to imagine those things. What had happened to the people in these houses that day? Who were they? What was their daily life like and what were they doing when the outbreak started?

You took a breath and made your way to the bedside table. The drawer opened with ease, everything inside the drawer was clean and untouched, unlike the rest of the room which was coated in a light layer of dirt.

You shuffle through the pile of papers, not finding anything useful. You shut the drawer and sat on the edge of the bed. There was a photo on the nightstand of a man and a woman on their wedding day, looking lovingly into each other's eyes.

Ghost comes into the room,

"I found you a pistol. The noise would draw too much attention so, you should only use it in necessary situations."

You don't respond to Ghost. He waits a few moments before coming around the bed.

"Y/n?"

His voice was soft. He seemed concerned, which was strange considering how unemotional Ghost had seemed.

"Please,"

The words are hardly audible. You turn to face him eyes glassy with tears.

"Don't leave me to die."

Your voice cracks on the last word and the flood of fear and sadness wash over you. You had been referring to an earlier conversation with Ghost.

He watches you with a sigh as you sniffle, feeling guilty but, Ghost kept his ground. He hadn't begun the outbreak alone, and he wasn't going to be responsible for anyone else's safety again.

"Y/n, we talked about this. Once we are past the city, I will help you get settled and be on my way. If I was leaving you to die, I'd have taken off by now."

Each word built up the annoyance inside him. He was tired of arguing with you about it and felt he was being fair in helping you for these few days. Ghost didn't appreciate how guilty you had been making him feel when he was trying to do the right thing by preparing you for survival.

You shake your head and stand up. Up until this point you'd kept quiet hoping you could change his mind by obeying but, it was clear now he had no intention of budging. Ghost had made up his mind and it was starting to piss you off.

"You're pretending like you're doing me a favor when in reality, you're only helping yourself!"

Ghost's jaw clenched under the mask.

"You only got this far because I helped you." He retorts, "I could have let those men back there shoot you! Is that what you prefer? Being dead on the road?"

You cross your arm over your chest and roll your eyes looking up to the ceiling like a teenager being scolded by a parent.

Ghost scoffs at the child-like attitude.

"I am giving you a chance to live. Nobody in this world owes you a goddamn thing, I know I sure as hell don't. So, if you feel like this is a waste of your time then get through the city yourself."

You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.

"W-what?"

Ghost eyes narrow.

"You heard me y/n. I'm done. I tried to be nice I tried to help you, and you have done nothing but be unappreciative. I was alone for a reason."

Ghost looks down at the pistol he had found, he clicks on the safety before tossing it on the bed beside you and turns to leave.

You watch in disbelief as he stomps out of the room and down the stairs.

The front door closed with a thud and panic ensued. You bolt to the bedroom window watching Ghost continue down the street.

Overwhelming fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you hadn't felt like this since the outbreak began.

You were quick to pack up your things and pull your backpack over your shoulders.

Although it was rather useless to you, not having any knowledge of how to use it, you grabbed the pistol carrying it in your sweaty hand.

By the time you were out of the house and crossing the front lawn Ghost had already disappeared out of the neighborhood.

Your eyes darted around. Keeping on high alert, you began to walk down the street. You swapped the gun in your hand for the knife in your belt as you continued hoping to catch up with Ghost.

The fear made the situation feel surreal, you didn't want this to be happening, and you couldn't be alone again.

You hoped and prayed to any possible higher power that Ghost would change his mind, that he'd come back and apologize.

The sun was getting ready to set as you reached the outskirts of the city. It was apparent to you that it must be late afternoon by now and you hardly had a clue where to go from here. Without Ghost and his map, survival skills, and ability to navigate, you were sure you'd be dead by dusk.

You looked around for signs, anything that could tell you where you were or give you any sort of direction.

It seemed you were across from a shopping center, which you knew from any movies you'd seen of these types of survival situations, was a death wish. Yet so was the city. On foot at least, you figured a better bet would be the highway.

You kept walking until you reached a freeway on-ramp. At this point, you'd accepted that Ghost was gone. It was impossible for you the assume which way he'd gone, where he'd stopped, and even if you could have guessed correctly what were the chances he'd still be there?

The freeway was surprisingly empty and quiet as you'd made it to the end of the ramp.

As you continued, your mind wandered to Ghost and the argument you'd had. You started to wonder if Ghost was right. Had you been that ungrateful? Were you anything more than a burden to him?

It wasn't long until you reached the long lines of abandoned cars. The eerie silence sent a shiver down your spine, you started to weave your way through the cars silently.

The area seemed to be safe. You glanced through widows as you passed hoping to find anything useful.

Finally, you stopped next to a smaller, silver car. Through the back window, you could see a couple of grocery bags. The front window was cracked, and you were able to push it down low enough to open the back door.

You sat on the edge of the seat and leaned in to search the bags. You were disgusted to see the rotten fruit and moldy loaf of bread but were relieved to find a few nonperishable items as well. You gathered what you could and continued looking.

The sun was almost set, and you had made it a few miles along. The lanes were still packed with abandoned cars.

With the sky getting dark you were getting nervous. The night would soon consume you leaving you in complete debilitating darkness. You had survived this way before, walking along roads allowing them to take you wherever they happened to end. But that had been then, in the rural parts of your small hometown. Where dangers were sparse and easily escapable.

You had been checking cars here and there for supplies as you moved forward. You had hoped by now you would find a flashlight but had no such luck.

Finally, you'd come across a pickup truck. It looked as if it had belonged to a company of some sort. In the back was a large toolbox.

You climbed up and over the tail end and into the bed of the truck. The toolbox was large and mounted onto the back end of the cab.

You lifted to heavy wooden lid and searched it.

With the last bits of remaining sunlight, you were able to make out the shape of a large hammer. Not the best weapon, but still infinitely more useful than a knife.

Keeping the hammer in hand you pocket the knife and climb back out of the truck.

With darkness overtaking the road you decided it would be best to keep to the edge rather than in between the cars.

Your pace had become slower as you tried to keep as quiet as possible.

As you came to another passenger side window you could see the glistening of a flashlight on the dashboard. Your eyes widened, pulling at the handle frantically.

The door was locked. You slipped the hammer into your belt and walked around to the driver's side door. To your surprise, the driver's door opened with ease.

Unfortunately, the car alarm began blaring. Your heart pounded in your chest. Panicking you reached across the center console and grabbed the heavy metal flashlight.

You turned it on and searched the floorboards with the dim yellow light. There were no keys anywhere to be found.

You heard distant groans and snarls. If there was anything around right now, they were surely going to come directly to you.

You pulled yourself away from the driver's seat and began to run. Weaving again through cars. The dim flashlight hardly leads you through the road without tripping and bumping into the askew vehicles.

A corpse reached out to you from the back window of a car as you passed. Startled you lost your balance and fell to the ground.

It fought its way out falling through the window and landing on the pavement beside you.

You reach up with a shaky hand feeling for the door handle of the car beside you. You swing the door open and climb into the back seat.

The door slams leaving the corpse to grasp desperately at the metal door with its bony fingers. Your chest heaves with panic but your feeling of safety is short-lived when a weak hiss comes from the driver's seat.

A skeletal hand reaches back between the front seats. You crawl to the other side and slide out of the car trying to steady yourself on your feet.

With the flashlight gripped tightly in your hand and the car alarm still blaring behind you, you continue to run. The weight of your backpack is starting to hurt your shoulders, but you push through the pain.

You fall to your knees, back pressed to a car. Your mind raced but you needed a plan. Where could you go from here?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of gunshots ringing through the air. A part of you was grateful someone was here to help. The other part of you feared whoever it was and prayed that it was Ghost. Although, you knew that was unlikely.

The shots continued. You turned off the flashlight and kept crouched along the cars as you moved forward.

The shots ceased and moments later so did the alarm. You froze in place crouched against the hood of a van. Footsteps approached, the crunch of glass and gravel beneath a pair of heavy boots, getting closer and closer.

There was a snarling, then the squelching sound of a knife entering flesh.

"Shit!"

Exclaimed a man's voice. A body thudded to the pavement and the footsteps continued.

That voice wasn't Ghost.

A white light shines on the ground beside you and you know you'd been caught. Your breath was caught in your throat as a pair of boots stopped on the road beside you.

This was it.

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@itsthealice

#cod au #zombie apocalypse au #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod angst #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x female reader #cod x female reader #cw: gore #zombie au #ghost au #mw2 fanfic #cod mw3 #alkaline writes #☑️mstlst

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