#warning smut gore and a few other stuff

[seijorhi]

Violent Delights

for my very dearest best friend (wife) @iwaasfairy i'm sorry it's super late, but august and april both start with 'a' which basically means they're the same month <33 iwaizumi hajime x female reader w.c 4.4k tw: yandere themes, non-con, drugged reader, blood/gore, murder, incest, sorta smut (nsfw)

M I N E

It’s funny in a way. Amidst the wreckage, the blood, what was left of your friends and the cooling puddle of cum splattered across your naked stomach, four letters carved into your bedroom wall seemed almost… harmless. Or at least the easiest to digest. Fixate on.

The detective asked about your ex partners, the dates you’d been on recently, whether or not you’d noticed anyone in your day-to-day paying you too much attention, if anyone made you feel uncomfortable, or said anything that seemed out of place.

But your exes don’t care enough to kill, and the two dates you’ve been on in the last six months never bothered to text you back. No one’s left weird, unsettling gifts, or stared too long in line at the coffee shop. There’s nothing. No precursor or warning, no giant red flag waving in front of you.

Mine. 

Hovering on the edge of numbness, blind hysteria just out of reach, you stare at the beige walls of the hotel room they’d put you up in, the angry gouges flickering in and out of existence with every blink. 

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

Kaori was the one obsessed with all the true crime stuff. She’d be the first to tell you psychopaths and nutjobs – they don’t jump straight into drugging and triple homicide. There’s a pattern of behaviour. Escalation. 

Something you missed. 

Then again, considering it’s her blood still caked under your fingernails, there’s a strong possibility she wouldn’t be all that enthusiastic about the whole thing to begin with. 

You need a shower, a proper one – not the glorified sponging off they’d given you at the hospital. Enough to get you out the door, not nearly enough to scrub away the grime and rid yourself of what he did to you–

The others had it worse. You survived. He barely touched you.

Mine. 

The thought of scalding water, of scrubbing yourself raw does hold a certain appeal, yet hunched over atop starched white sheets, those same bloody fingernails sink into the flesh of your arms instead, grounding you in the tiny bite of pain. 

Minutes tick past and you don’t so much as twitch. Not until a sharp knock sounds at the door and a gruff voice calls out your name. 

You wait half a beat, but when nothing more is forthcoming, you slowly edge yourself off the bed, making your way to the door. Through the peephole you spy a dark haired officer, different to the one who’d dropped you off, staring back at you. 

They did tell you there’d be an officer with you the whole time, at least for the next twenty four hours. 

“Miss?” he calls again, and you distantly realise that while your hand is poised over the deadlock, you haven’t moved to undo it. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, your forehead meeting the wooden door with a muted thud, you curse that stupid, tremulous fluttering in your chest. They’re here for you, protecting you. You’re safe.

Open the damn door. 

“Y-yeah?”

Coward.

“Brought some food for you. Dinner.” There’s a rustling on the other side, and you raise your head to peer back through the glass in time to see him lift up a paper carry bag to the peephole. The idea of eating anything right now has your stomach roiling in protest. “Nothing fancy, but it’s good, I swear,” he says. Then, gentler, like he’s talking down a spooked animal, adds, “You need to eat.”

Still, you hesitate. All you need to do is open the door, grab the food and then at least it’s there if you want it later. Easy. 

Too quick, too jerky to be natural, you twist at the handle and yank the door open a scant few inches, enough for you to reach out an arm expectantly for the food. “Thank you,” you pre-empt, because hungry or not, you’re not completely without manners.

The officer lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, no. I’m not taking heat from the Cap when the guys on the next shift find you passed out ‘cause you haven’t eaten anything,” he scoffs. “C’mon, we can talk while you eat.” Not a suggestion – you barely have time to stumble back before he’s pushing his way inside and kicking the door closed behind him. The second he takes to flick the lock somehow simultaneously eases the knots in your stomach and sends your heartrate ratcheting.

It’s halfway to a miracle that you’re still standing at all. 

“Eat,” he tells you, his deep voice brooking no disagreement as he shoves the bag of food your way and grabs the lone chair in the room, dragging it closer to the edge of the bed and settling himself down. Clearly he has no intention of going anywhere until he’s satisfied you’ve eaten your fill.

With little else for it, you do as you’re told, reaching into the bag to find steamed buns at your fingertips, still warm as you pry open the wrapper– and wince. The familiar scent of pork, ginger and chives wafts through the air, unwittingly digging at old wounds. 

Suddenly you’re a kid again, strolling down the hill with your family, one hand tucked safely within your brother’s, the other grasping a steaming hot bun. You’re happy and whole and so, so young–

“Something wrong? You don’t like meat buns?” 

Not the time. Ignoring the bitter ache the memory conjures, you’re quick to shake your head, “No. No, thank you. It’s great.” You doubt he buys it, but then again you also doubt he cares so long as you get something in your stomach. 

One bite, chew, swallow. Another, chew, swallow – mechanical until it isn’t. The first bun disappears and you reach for the second.

“How’s your head?” he asks.

You swallow down another mouthful. “Fuzzy. Sore. I still can’t remember anything,” you  admit, in case that’s where this line of questioning is going. Nothing beyond waking up in your bed covered in blood and a stranger’s cum at any rate.

The blood work they did at the hospital confirmed you were drugged along with the others, the detective mentioning the near-empty bottle of wine they’d found, which they were in the process of testing too. He’d also pointed out the lack of evidence indicating any kind of forced entry, which paired with the former is something you’ve been trying not to dwell on. 

The officer gives a considering nod, “That’s to be expected, don’t worry about it. I still think it’s worth asking a few more questions if you’re feeling up to it?” Again, it’s phrased like a question, but already he’s pulling out a voice recorder, setting down on the mattress between you. 

“Um, sure. Yeah,” you croak. 

A small smile, “Good.” He leans forward to switch on the recorder. “We’ll start with the other victims – your friends. Tell me about them.”

“Kaori, she’s– she was my best friend. We worked at the same grocer when I first moved out of my parents’ place, when I got a job here she made the decision to move with me. That was about six months ago.” 

“And the other two?” 

“Her brother Koji and another friend of ours Takashi. They came up to visit; Kaori’s been back once or twice since we left, but I hadn’t seen them–” tears blur at your vision and your voice just… gives out. 

They’re gone. 

You drag a shuddering breath in and it hurts. 

Blindly, your hand reaches across the bed, blood tipped fingers sprawling over pristine white, and when they meet warmth – an open palm outstretched – you seize it and cling on with everything you have. You’ll unravel if you don’t.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you chant, each syllable shakier than the last.

He dips his chin, just barely, and squeezes your hand, “You invited them?”

A wordless, wide eyed nod. 

“You were close.” Not a question. He sounds like he’s mulling over the thought, though his expression is inscrutable. “Were you involved with any of them?”

This time, there’s the slightest hesitation before you shake your head. The officer frowns, “I need the truth. Your friends were attacked for a reason. Lying to me won’t help bring their families peace.”

The blood drains from your face, your heart lurching on a sickening thud. 

Your fault. 

Instinctively, you yank back your hand, or try to at least, but his grip tightens – enough to keep you from drawing away, not enough to hurt. Though neither his tone nor his expression hold any condemnation, it doesn’t change the truth of the matter. 

You didn’t drug them or pick up the knife and swing. You didn’t invite this psycho into your life, but the fact remains that they’re dead because of you. 

“I– it wasn’t like that. We weren’t… I didn’t–” 

MINE.

Tears threaten to spill and your bottom lip trembles. 

For a long, drawn out moment, he simply stares. There’s a twitch at his jaw and he sighs – more of a grunt, really – leaning back and pulling his hand from yours to rake through his dark hair. 

(Stupid, you think, how some part of you mourns the loss.) 

“Okay, alright. Fine. We’ll come back to that,” he concedes. “What about other friends? Coworkers you were close with?”

“No, I– I already told the detective I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

An irritated flash darkens his gaze. “I didn’t ask if you were fucking them.” And you must make a truly pathetic picture then, flinching like a kicked puppy, because he lets out another huff, closing his eyes for a beat and visibly working to soften the harsh lines of his expression. “Shit, okay– I’m sorry. It’s been a long day for us both,” he makes an odd noise, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, the sound entirely devoid of humour. “The guy who did this, he either already knows about the people precious to you, or he’s gonna do his damn best to find out, and if he thinks they’re threats, he’ll hurt them, or worse – he’ll use them to hurt you. I need you to tell me everything.”

And so, feeling the exhaustion of the day creeping over you, you do.

You tell him about the small group from work you occasionally go out for Friday drinks with, your old friends from uni, right down to the neighbour two floors below, who’d seen you hauling boxes the day you’d moved in and immediately offered to help. When you’d christened the kitchen baking you’d made sure to bring him some, and just last week you’d had tea with him and his grandma.

“What about school? Anyone you still keep in contact with?”

You try for a laugh but it sounds all wrong. “I wasn’t exactly popular back then,” 

His eyes narrow. They flit across your face like he’s searching for… something. You feel like a bug, pinned in place, squirming and uncomfortable, your face too hot. 

“Bullied?” he probes. 

Another nod. 

“How ‘bout family?”

Your mouth dries.

“My parents… I haven’t spoken to them in months. We don’t really get along.” The last conversation you’d had with them, if you could call it as much, lasted all of five minutes. Dry pleasantries and thinly veiled criticisms, wrapped up in yet another pointed reminder that things didn’t have to be this way – you were the one adamant on shutting them out. 

You doubt it’d raise a single eyebrow between them if you went the same again without contact. 

“Siblings?”

Another tear slips from your lashes and you swallow against the tight lump in your throat. The weight of his gaze feels oppressive, you’re too bare, too vulnerable, you don’t want to talk about this, so you shift your line of sight to the paper delivery bag, half crumpled now, and let your fingernails sink into the skin of your palms. 

Still, the words don’t come straight away, and when they do, they’re strained. Choked. Painted so thick is grief that you wonder if he understands them at all.

“No. I uh, I had a brother– a twin brother. He died.” 

You don’t talk about your brother, ever.

Kaori knew the bare bones of it. Koji and Takashi too – you had a twin brother, he died, and it fucked you up. Without ever uttering a word, they’d known not to press, that the wounds left behind weren’t quite as healed as the scar tissue led to believe. 

“How old were you?”

Seven, when you lost him. Twelve, when the letters stopped coming. 

“Fourteen,” you whisper, curling in on yourself. “He was sick.”

Stop asking, stop talking, stop, stop, stop. 

When you risk a look in the officer’s direction, his features are hewn granite, eyes set in a hard, angry glare that steals the very breath from your lungs. “Yeah?” he grunts, rising to his feet. “You stopped writing long before that.”

There’s just enough time for understanding to crash over you, for your lips to part, a feather light gasp of “Hajime?” to slip out before you’re flat on your back, wrists pinned to the mattress above your head, the officer– a ghost– Hajime looming over you. 

“What did I fucking tell you?”  

—

‘Sweetie, make sure you hold your brother’s hand.’

They’d meant when you were walking home from the bus stop, or crossing the road. When there was a buddy system so no one got separated or left behind. 

Hajime was always holding your hand. Not because your parents told him to, but because that’s how it was supposed to be. You were twins, he’d been born first (by all of six minutes) and you had followed. You were always following Hajime, and he was always going to look after you. 

Until he gets put into the Otter class with Mr Inagaki, and you go into Dugong with Miss Ino. 

Hajime’s nothing short of enraged. He throws chairs and yells and tries to kick the Principal, but it doesn’t change anything.

It would be good for you, they said, to have a chance to make other friends. ‘You can’t keep using your brother as a crutch, honey,’ your mother gently admonishes. 

Hajime scowls at that. Later, when it’s just the two of you hiding away in his room, he tells you she’s an idiot and a liar. ‘You don’t need anyone else. You have me.’

You knew that. You’d always have Hajime, but the other kids in your class weren’t as awful as he made them sound. Some of them were actually kind of cool, and they liked you, too.

For a while, you began to believe you could have both; Hajime and your new friends. 

Until one day you’re waiting for him at lunch when a boy from your class tugs on your braids and with a wide, toothy grin, loudly proclaims to the whole playground that even though you were a girl, and girls have cooties, it’d probably be okay if you wanted to be his girlfriend. 

You didn’t see Hajime coming up behind you. You’ve no idea where he found the scissors. The only warning either of you get is a sudden, splitting roar before he’s throwing himself at the smaller boy, tackling him to the ground. 

‘She’s MINE!’

Silver glints, flashing in the sunlight, and a high pitched shriek rips through the playground as he brings the scissors down on the poor, struggling boy. 

With a viciousness you’d never known of your brother, he swings again and again. It’s chaos. The other kids scatter and the teachers run to intervene. Hajime, spitting and snarling, red in the face and half-feral, doesn’t stop for them.

He stops for you. 

At the sound of a sharp little gasp, a line of red slashed along your forearm, Hajime stops dead, wide, horrified eyes fixed on yours.

—

‘Sweetie, what have I told you about snooping? I raised you better than that.’

‘But they’re addressed to me. Hajime wrote to me.’

‘Your brother’s not well, those letters– they’ll only upset you. I don’t want you reading them.’

‘… He says he misses me.’

‘I know, but he’s where he belongs, getting help. You want that for him, don’t you? To get the help he needs?’

‘I want to write back to him.’

—

There’s another letter waiting for you when you get home from school.

You hang your backpack near the door, still damp from being tossed in the pool, and eye the opened envelope sitting by your father. He doesn’t look up from his laptop when you reach for it, doesn’t lift a finger to stop you. Nevertheless, the displeasure radiates from him clear as day. 

“You shouldn’t encourage him. He’s not well.”

You’d scoff if it wouldn’t get you in trouble. Nothing you said could ever be taken as ‘encouragement’, and you’re under no illusions about who and what your brother is. 

The violence terrifies you. Sometimes he says things in the letters he writes that make your stomach all twisty and your palms sweat, but Hajime could be a monster, and you think you’d love him anyway. You wouldn’t have a choice. 

So you pluck at the envelope and tuck it close, making your way to your room without another glance at either of your parents. Sitting cross legged atop your bed, you eagerly scan the contents;

He hates the new therapist. They had a movie night planned, but some asshole started a fight and the whole thing got cancelled. The food’s still shit. He’s fed up and pissed off, whether he behaves or not, they won’t let him out and they won’t give him what he wants, so what’s the point in pretending?

The both of you turn twelve in ten days time – you owe it to him to come spend it together. 

—

‘Maybe it’s for the best, sweetheart.’

Dismissive. She’s always dismissive. Your hands curl in response, tightening before you force yourself to flex them out and bite your tongue. It’s not worth the fight. Neither one of them actually care, and nothing you say will ever change that. 

He’s angry at you. Or hurt. Both, probably. 

They wouldn’t let you visit. You’d begged – cried, even – and it hadn’t swayed them. The rules are that you aren’t allowed to go and see Hajime and you aren’t allowed to talk to him on the phone. The letters are the only communication you have, and when your twelfth birthday comes and goes, those stop too.

You’ve sent four letters since, no response. 

He’s shut you out entirely and while you can’t blame him for it, it’s painful.

You’ve always had Hajime, through everything. Him shutting you out feels like losing a limb– 

No, it’s more than that. It’s like slowly losing some vital function inside of you. Like your lungs are shutting down and you can’t breathe properly and your heart isn’t pumping the way it should. You feel guilty and horrible and at least twice, you debate trying to find a way to sneak out and make the two hour journey on your own, just so you can see him.

It’s a stupid idea, they wouldn’t even let you through the front door, but it’s the only idea you have and so you cling to it.

You keep writing to him– panicked. Desperate. Begging his forgiveness. 

He never writes back.

—

They sit you down at breakfast three months after your fourteenth birthday and tell you Hajime’s gone.

There was another fight, someone pushed him–

You don’t want to hear the details. They don’t matter and your ears are ringing too loud to make sense of them anyway.

Hajime is gone.

The cord between you was stretched and fraying already. He hadn’t written in over two years and probably hated you towards the end but he– he was–

Yours. A part of you. 

Gone.

And your mother’s asking about the English test you have second period. 

—

“What. Did. I. Say?” Each word is slowly enunciated, a quiet growl that drags an unwilling shiver down your spine. 

He smells of wood – of cedar, spice and musk, the notes melding, coiling with the dizzying body heat, the solid weight of him, bracing himself above you.

His lips are mere inches from yours. 

Not dead. 

Here.

There’s a thousand thoughts racing through your head, connections that light up, clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle, painting a deeply unsettling picture – all of which are drowned out by the revelation that Hajime is here.

You burst into tears–

and Hajime – your brother, very much alive and glaring at you from above – surges down to swallow them in a vicious kiss.

The moment your lips touch, all the tension in his body just… bleeds out. Hajime groans, low and heated, his hips rocking, grinding along your stomach, and if you weren’t too preoccupied short circuiting, dangling on the precipice of a panic attack, you’d feel the twitch of his mouth, curling into a small but no less satisfied smirk.

He relaxes, like he’s coming home rather than returning from the dead to land the killing blow.

“Mine,” he answers his own question, breath heavy and ragged as his teeth nip at your jaw. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

The scratches on the wall. Kaori and Koji and Takashi, asleep in a sea of red. The viscous mess spilled over your belly. Your mother’s hushed voice, carrying down the hallway, ‘– only a phase. The books all say he’ll grow out of it before long.’

She hadn’t sounded convinced. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, desperate to block it all out as more tears spill into your hairline. Hajime won’t let you. He groans your name into the shell of your ear and licks at the tears as they fall. “Don’t,” he warns, fingers pressing tightly around your wrists ‘til they shoot back open with a gasp, “don’t you dare check out.”

When he rucks up your shirt to find you sans bra and a warm palm slides up to grope the soft, supple skin, a fresh burst of panic spurs you into action. Pinned under his weight as you are, you can’t move, and the idea of trying to physically fight him off is as laughable as it is terrifying – but when you were younger, you were the one – the only one – who could coax Hajime back from the edge, your hand in his.

Until he leapt from it entirely, and they took him away.

“H-Hajime?” A trembling, hiccuping whimper, thick with tears.  

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even pause – shuffling down your body to mouth at them instead – but hooded, simmering pools of green flick back up to your face, a hum of acknowledgement rumbling in his chest as he nips and sucks pretty, burgundy blooms across your breasts.

“I-if you ever loved me, even a little… Please, Haji– don’t hurt me like this–” you choke on another sob, pathetic mess that you are.

Hajime goes preternaturally still, eyes boring into you. 

You stare right back, fighting the urge to cower and flinch, to turn your cheek and stare at the discarded dumpling wrappers, letting him take what he wants. Praying that he won’t hurt you too badly if you give it to him without a fight.

Because it will hurt, you think. It’ll break you entirely. 

(Are you not already broken?)

When his head drops, you can’t help it – the sharp, terrified hitch in your breath – but his lips meet your forehead, then each cheek, before finally they brush over your lips with a tenderness he has no right to. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he vows, cradling the side of your jaw, “I won’t hurt you, ever.”

But that’s a lie, too.

“I love you more than anything.”

He kisses you again, soft and sweet and gentle, as if those promises weren’t sewn from violence and legitimised in blood. As if he isn’t breaking your heart with every sweep of his tongue, plundering your mouth.

There’s no fight in you left when he reaches for the waistband of your sweats and slowly starts easing them down. You don’t claw and shove when the hold on your wrists loosens and then disappears entirely, both hands needed to strip away his clothes. 

The sound of his belt buckle clinking, the soft hiss of a zipper, they wash over you, white noise lost to the pounding in your ears. 

But you don’t look away.

He strokes his cock – long and thick and flushed to the tip –  crawling up the mattress to kneel between your legs like a supplicant before an altar of the divine. 

Devotion demands sacrifice. 

“It killed me,” he starts, dragging the mushroom head along the slit of your pussy. He frowns a little, leans back and spits – a fat glob of saliva landing dead centre, adding to the mess his weeping cock’s already made. “When the letters stopped coming. I was angry, so fucking angry, all the time. I’d lash out and they’d put me in another cage, and I’d do it again, and again. They tried convincing me you’d moved on,” his eyes flash darkly, “which was bullshit. They’d have to carve me out of you with a knife.”

What shocks you isn’t the violent imagery, but the truth of it settling into your bones, inescapable and undeniable; you’ll always love your brother, even if that very love destroys you.

“I didn’t–”

The first thrust rips a strangled yelp from your throat. 

He’s too big, you’re not prepared to take him – and Hajime doesn’t care. His head tips back, shuddering out a breathy laugh. 

There’s no pause, no period of grace, seated deep inside of you, the walls of your pussy hugging him tight, Hajime won’t allow you a second to catch your breath and wait for the burning sting to abate. His hips draw back until only the throbbing head of his cock remains inside, and, upon grabbing a leg to hitch over his shoulder, uses it as leverage to punch forward, stuffing your tight little cunt to the brim.

The pace he sets is brutal from the outset. Bruising. He licks at your tears between kisses and moans when you clench and shudder around him. “Never again,” he pants into your ear. “I’ll kill them all if you leave. Every last fucking one. You’re mine. Mine.”

And you’d think it cruel, a punishment, if not for the way those green eyes burn. 

When his fingers twine with yours, pressing you down into the mattress, holding you there, you wonder if this was always an inevitability. 

Hajime led and you followed, hand in bloody hand. 

He’d never allow anything less.

[darknight3904]

Every Breath You Take

Chapter Two- On the Road Again

Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader, Slowburn!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: With the world falling apart around you, you try to keep your cool while staying in a military safe zone with Tommy and Joel.

General Warnings: This story is 18+. Included, but not limited to: Explicit smut (chapters will be marked with a ** ), canon typical violence, language, gore, and horror. SA themes (not described in detail), suicide, and depression. These warnings may change at any time, as this story is not completed.

Warnings for this part: Canon typical violence, language, gore, and horror. Mentions of sex, period products, reader menstruates.

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / The Last of Us Masterlist

Word Count: 3.7k

Early October 2003, Austin Texas

You’re not sure how long you spend in the military encampment, but it can't be more than a few weeks. Joel returns two days after your initial arrival, a bag that matches you and Tommy’s under his arm, and a nameless soldier shoves Joel’s cot into the already cramped tent. You spent your days listlessly walking around, taking in the sights and sounds of a couple hundred traumatized people. 

The army had strict rules, quietness was the number one priority now, and almost everyone spoke in hushed whispers. MRE packs were passed out twice a day, and you’d come to look forward to the days when you’d get the ones that had the little brownies in them. 

On day three, you and Tommy had ventured out of the tent in search of clean clothes for the three of you. He ended up convincing a soldier to hand over a small bag of clean clothes. Now you walked around in some high schooler’s gym uniform that had been found in the school. Tommy and Joel didn’t fit into any of the uniforms, so they stuck to trying to wash their clothes when the soldiers came by to grab 20 people at a time to shower inside the school every few days. 

When he wasn’t eating or being dragged to the showers, Joel was lying down in the tent. He never slept, at least not anytime you saw him. Tommy regularly tried to coax his brother out of the tent, but gave up whenever Joel began cursing him out. 

Your life had become a boring loop of days as you tried to think of anything other than your dad or Sarah’s dead body still lying down by the riverbank. At some point, Tommy borrows Uno cards from another person and you get to rest your fretful mind, brain becoming lost in basic numbers. 

It’s the middle of the night when Joel’s deep voice wakes you up. You squint your eyes in the dark as you look at the way he’s trying to pull Tommy off his cot. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” Tommy grumbles 

“Get up, we’re leavin’. Can’t stay in this fucking camp anymore.” Joel urges 

“We can’t go out there. We don’t even have our guns anymore.” Tommy reasons, “Lie back down, go to bed.” 

“We have to go.” Joel frantically says 

You switch the camping lantern a soldier had passed out a few days ago on. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” 

Your eyes settle on Joel’s hands. The knuckles of both hands are bruised and bleeding and the skin is swollen and looks horrible. 

“What’d you do?” Tommy accusingly says 

“Nothin’ that wasn’t deserved, now get up.” 

You steal away into the night with Tommy and Joel. The latter jumps a lone soldier who had been pissing into a bush. After stealing his gun, Joel demands to know where they keep the MREs. The soldier who sounds like he's barely 18, gives in as soon as the gun is pointed at his head. You stuff two bags full of food before Joel drags you and Tommy past the blockade through some blind spot he’s found and into the unprotected world. 

Joel remains on a warpath for hours, leading you and Tommy into some remote countryside of Texas. Eventually, Tommy demands that the three of you stop at a small cottage that sits just off the road in a grassy field. 

“We’ll go in first. You stay behind me n’ Joel.” Tommy says sternly 

You nod, not like you have any options here. Joel is the only one armed and unless you and Tommy count the plastic forks that sit in the MRE packs, the two of you are vulnerable and unprotected. 

Lucky for you the cottage is empty. It had been locked as well and you can only assume that whoever lived here was away from home when all this shit went down. 

You can hear Tommy questioning Joel sharply about his hands as you stare at the walls. Joel as it turns out had beaten a man bloody in the middle of the night, he didn’t have much of a reason for it, just that it was deserved after the man kept running his mouth about shit.

The framed photo of a young couple sits on an end table next to the couch, they’re smiling at each other, the woman holding her hand up to show off a beautiful ring. 

Tommy comes back to you, a deep frown on his face, 

“He’s losing it, I can feel it.” 

“Of course, he’s losing it…His daughter died in his arms.” You remind Tommy, feeling your own heart squeeze at the thought of Sarah

Tommy guiltily stares back at you, “I know that…I just…M’ worried.” 

You glance into the kitchen where Joel is opening and slamming cabinet doors, muttering gruffly to himself, gun still sitting in his hands. 

You don’t know what to say to Tommy so you do what any sane person would do in this situation, you lie. 

“He’ll be okay.” 

January 2004, Somewhere near Texas’ Stateline

“Are you fucking joking? We are not going west.” 

“And how is east any better?” 

“For starters, it's not closer to Califuckingfornia and its huge population.” 

You groaned, wishing they’d stop the bickering already, it was starting to get old, they weren’t 8-year-olds anymore, why couldn’t they just pick a direction? 

“Oh, and Atlanta is such a small city.” 

“We don’t know what west looks like, Tommy. We know Atlanta has something, those people told us!” 

“Oh yeah, you mean the people who offered us food before you waved a gun in their face and demanded their entire backpack and water supply.” 

“I didn’t hear you whining’ when you were eating that food and drinkin’ the water last night!” 

You wish you could rip your ears off. Nothing like two brothers who can’t even agree on how to pitch a tent trying to figure out where to go during the literal end of the world. You lean forward, smacking your hand down on Tommy’s shoulder so hard he jumps.  

“Let’s just find somewhere to sleep for tonight, it’s getting dark.” You decide for them

This idea must be acceptable for the ever-elusive Joel because he’s turning off the road and into the woods to find a place to pitch the tent. After a few cans of Spaghettios and three peanut butter-flavored granola bars, you find yourself on your back staring at the dark fabric of the tent. 

The soft crunching of leaves and sticks fill your ears as Joel keeps watch for you and Tommy. You bury your nose under the edge of your sleeping bag, wishing it was thicker, Northern Texas wasn’t as forgiving in the winter the way Austin was. 

“You cold?” Tommy grunts 

“A little.” You lie, you’re freezing, at this rate your feet, despite being wrapped up in two pairs of socks will be frostbitten by morning.

Shuffling sounds fill the tent and before you know it Tommy has rolled his way towards you, still wrapped in his own sleeping bag. He unzips the flap and motions for you to join him. 

When you hesitate, he reaches out and pulls you into him, a small oomf leaving your lips when your nose collides with his soft chest. 

“Go to sleep.” He mumbles 

Joel feels the way the scowl forms on his face when he pushes into the tent. His brother is wrapped around you, the two of you looking like one big lump of sleeping bag and winter coats. 

Joel isn’t sure what to make of you. He knew who you were from before…the quiet neighbor girl who watched Sarah every once in a while. In return, Joel would slide you a twenty and thank you for cleaning up his messy home. But now, he didn’t know what to make of you. 

He supposed you reminded him of a scared lamb. Like the newborn ones that can barely walk without their moms. You’re always hiding away behind him and Tommy, scared whenever you come across people. Sure, Joel can’t exactly blame you but your meekness is beginning to drive him insane. Surely, you’ve figured out by now the world isn't going to go back to normal anytime soon, the quiet good girl act would have to go at some point…right? 

Joel knew Tommy was interested in you. He’d known for years now, smacked Tommy on the back of the head many times for it too, staring at the kid next door? What a fucking creep his brother was. 

Technically it wasn’t illegal, you were 18 and a half when Tommy had met you, Joel knew that. It still had his nerves fried, though, you ought to be with someone your own age, not his dumb brother, who hadn’t held a steady relationship since well…ever. 

Joel kicks Tommy’s boot, and his brother’s sleepy eyes inch their way open. 

“Your turn, asshole.” 

Joel hustles under his own sleeping bag, not interested in being in the cold anymore. Despite his flashlight being off now, Joel doesn’t miss the way Tommy lays his sleeping bag over you, tucking you away from the cold winter air. 

Tommy gives Joel a look, and Joel just rolls his eyes, the scowl on his face forming again. 

February 2004, Somewhere in the Southeastern half of the US

Tommy wasn’t sure what had happened to you. You’d been pissed at him all morning. It had started after he had eaten the last Nature Valley granola bar they had. You’d yelled at him after finding the box empty, after shoving him away and calling him a piece of shit you sulked in the tent until Joel coaxed you out with the promise of venison and three Hershey kisses he had stashed somewhere. 

Now, the three of you had ventured into a small neighborhood, hoping to find some more canned goods before continuing the journey north. Supposedly, Boston had a safe zone, and after months of wandering from state to state, everyone was desperate to have some sense of safety. 

Tommy was careful to stay out of your way, judging by the pinch in your brow, you were still upset. 

“You say anythin’ to make her upset?” Joel huffs as he walks 

“No, not since the granola bar fiasco,” Tommy says earnestly 

Joel nods before tossing a large rock at the beautiful glass of the front door to a home. Inside he and Joel made sure the home was clear of infected and people before letting you enter fully. 

“Check upstairs for some clothes. Soap would be good too, Joel’s starting to stink.” 

Normally that joke earns him a soft smile, maybe a laugh if he’s lucky, today is not that day. 

“I’m not an idiot, I know what we need.” 

Tommy watches you stomp off up the steps, your boots squeaking a bit as you go. 

“Y’better fix that, otherwise it’s gonna be a long ride to wherever the fuck we’re goin’,” Joel advises as he dumps canned vegetables into a duffle bag 

“Like you treat her any better. All you do is scowl and tell her to go away.” Tommy scoffs 

“Yeah well, I’m not the one she’s mad at.” Joel shrugs in indifference

What a fucking dick. 

Tommy walks upstairs, you’re rummaging around in a closet, muttering to yourself about what size shoe he and his brother wear. Your back is turned to Tommy, giving him the perfect view of your ass when you bend down a bit, looking at whatever clothes were in there. 

At first, he’s just admiring, he’s just a man after all he can’t help it if a girl as pretty as you is standing there like that. Then, he squints a bit, a small patch of your brown cargos is darker than the rest. Perhaps it was a stain, something from the woods, it was really dirty out there after all. He takes a step closer and sure enough, it’s more than a stain. 

“Sweetheart,” He starts

You whip around, hands holding an oversized flannel, “Can you please fuck off for twenty minutes? I don’t need you breathing down my neck all the time.” 

“I think you’re bleedin’, there’s something on your pants.” 

You glance down at your crotch before groaning. Tommy averts his eyes when you stick your hands down your pants, fingers returning a bright crimson. 

“Fuck…” You breathe, “And here I thought I’d get lucky and the end of the world would keep it away a little longer.” 

You brush past Tommy, awkwardly waddling towards the ensuite bathroom before shutting the door. 

Tommy gives it a minute before he gently knocks on the door, “You need anythin?” 

A beat of silence follows before you hesitantly respond, “No, I’m fine.” 

Tommy returns to Joel who stands in the kitchen, a cigarette hanging from his lips. Tommy looks at Joel in surprise, they’d run out of smokes months ago, had he been holding out all this time? 

“Looks like whoever lived here was a bachelor,” Joel grunts, flinging open a cabinet 

Tommy nearly falls over, two full shelves of whiskey, brandy, and god only knows what else stared at him. 

“Or maybe a raging alcoholic with no liver left.” Tommy snorts, his hand reaching for a bottle of Balcones Texas Whiskey, turning it over like it's a bar of gold, which in this new world, it might as well be. 

Joel hands him an unopened pack of Marlboros, “He had a whole carton of these stuffed in a drawer.” 

This home was too good to be true. Tommy silently thanked whatever nameless loser lived here before the world ended. 

“You fix things up?” Joel asks, lighting the cigarette that now dangles from Tommy’s lips 

“Sorta…” He takes a draw, “She uh…” 

“She what?” Joel questions sharply, “She’s not hurt, right?” 

“No! Well, not in a way that's anyone's fault…Her period started, she’s up in the bathroom right now.”

Joel nods and gives Tommy a grunt. These days it felt like Joel grunted more than talked. Ask Joel a question about the car? A grunt. Tell him his jacket had a hole in it? A grunt. Sometimes Tommy wished his brother would just use his damn vocal cords. 

Creaking steps have the brothers turning, you stand in the archway of the kitchen, your pants balled up in your hands, an angry look on your features. They watch you toss the pants onto the table and then watch as you hike the oversized sweatpants back up over your hips before they can fall down. 

“Let's go to the next house. I need new pants and something other than a ball of toilet paper between my legs.” 

The next house is a family home. Toys are scattered across the floor like the kids were expecting to come right back to them. A thin layer of dust coats the home, and Joel finds himself staring at the family portraits that line the walls. Like the other homes, it’s devoid of life. Joel presumes the entire once-picturesque street will be like this. He slams one bedroom door shut, the pink and green name plate that reads Alice swings back and for a second, before falling onto the ground. Tommy reaches the top of the steps, looking at his brother who still has a hand on the doorknob. 

“What’s in there?” He asks 

“Nothin'.” Joel gruffly responds, pushing past his brother and down the steps 

Joel doesn’t feel the need to admit he doesn’t want to see a little girl's bedroom. That it makes him think of his own home and what Sarah’s room might look like now. Had people come through it and picked it clean? Were her soccer medals still hanging, or had they carelessly tossed them to the floor while looking for something that might be useful for them? 

The master bedroom is on the first floor, and a messy, unmade bed greets Joel as he stalks over to the bathroom. He rifles through a few drawers, pushing bags of cotton swabs and nail polish bottles aside before finally landing on what he wanted. Joel stalks back up the steps to find you in the upstairs bathroom, rifling through the cabinet under the sink, a determined look on your face. 

He tosses the box of tampons at you with little regard for how they hit your cheek as they fall. “The master bedroom has some ladies' clothes.” 

You could nearly cry with happiness as you rip open the box. Joel had been kind enough to shut the door behind him as you moved to the toilet, pulling the ugly grey sweatpants from the other home down as you sat. 

As far as you were concerned period products were officially  your new favorite thing on the planet. You haven't bled since before the world fell apart, chalking it up to stress you had just accepted it. But now, as if your body wanted to spite you, you were bleeding like a fucking slit throat. Sure you had noticed the pinch in your lower belly a few days ago and how tired you had been, but that easily could’ve been anything considering your food was entirely canned these days. 

You hold your pants up as you walk downstairs, listening to Tommy and Joel count over the food in the kitchen, the scent of cigarette smoke wafting down the hall as you rummage through the closet and dresser. God, whatever woman lived here before you must’ve only worn dresses and skirts. Nearly everything was an office casual vibe, did she live in pencil skirts and pantyhose? Eventually, you found them, two pairs of simple sweatpants. An entire closet and dresser, and this nameless woman owned two pairs of sweatpants. What a weirdo, where were her fun graphic t-shirts and silly pajama pants? 

You rummage through a few more drawers, stuffing some bras and underwear into your bag as you go, grinning to yourself when you find three pairs of thick fuzzy socks.You turn your attention to the bedside table, a book called To Tame a Warrior sits with its pages dog-eared. You put it in your bag despite it seeming a bit strange, after all these days a book is a book if it means not having to listen to Joel snore when he passes out before the sun can even set. What's inside the nightstand has your eyes widening, a half-opened box of condoms, and beside it a vibrator, still in its packaging, sits covered in a layer of dust. 

You’d never owned one of these, too scared your dad might find it or hear it one night, you resolved to try to find your release, the old-fashioned way. You feel like you’re being watched as you shove the toy into your bag, already thinking of how you might get away from your grouchy protectors to try it out one day.

Feeling refreshed, you cleaned the bathroom of its toiletries, elated when you found a still-packaged toothbrush. It’d been so long since you brushed with anything other than your fingertip and spit. 

You rejoin Tommy and Joel who are ready to go back to the truck, four duffle bags stuffed to the brim with things you’d need in your journey. Tommy helps you lift your bags of toiletries and clothes into the truck bed. 

“Find anything good?” He asks 

“Soap, toothpaste. More toilet paper.” You say, “Some clothes, nothing too cool.” 

“Sounds successful to me.” He shrugs 

That night, wrapped in your sleeping bag, guilt seeps into your skin. You had spent most of the day being off-putting and rude to Tommy, who has been nothing but kind to you as the world came crashing down. Sure Joel was a total asshat, but at least he had good reason. Your vagina was bleeding so you took it out on your only friend? 

Tommy is turned away from you, sleeping on his side as the softest snores escape his lips. You scoot over to him, wanting to apologize. As you brush your hand across his broad back, he shifts, turning to you, his eyes sleepily inching open. 

“You good?” He murmurs

In the low light of Joel’s lantern from outside you take in Tommy’s features. His dark hair has gotten longer since the day Sarah died. Patchy facial hair lines his skin, you reach out and run a finger along his cheek, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him with a beard.

“M'’ sorry.” You sigh, “I was a total bitch today.” 

A small smile lines his face and his eyes open fully to meet yours, “Nice apology, but I’m gonna need more than that.” 

Your brow furrs, if Tommy Miller thinks he’s going to get you to beg for his forgiveness, you’re going to strangle him with his sleeping bag. Your face heats up as he taps a finger to his lips. 

“Words hurt, darlin’, you damn near had me cryin’ today.” 

“Oh, please.” You quietly scoff 

Tommy raises his eyebrows expectantly and you giggle, your nose brushes his as you lean in, your lips just barely ghosting his.

“You call that a kiss?” He asks coyly

You want to push his stupidly handsome face away from yours. Did he seriously expect you to make out with him while his brother is out there in a fold-up beach chair, making sure no one comes to kill you all in the middle of the night? 

Tommy is barely able to lean in again before the tent flap is being pulled open, Joel entering with a loud clamor as he drops his backpack to the ground. 

“S’ snowin’. No one's coming up this way tonight, needa get warm before my hands freeze off.” He scowls, shaking the snow off his shoulders 

You awkwardly look at Tommy as Joel climbs into his sleeping bag on the other side of the small tent. The world goes dark as Joel presses the button on his camping lantern before moving again. 

“Two can cuddle and kiss as much as you want, no sex while I’m sleepin’ over here,” Joel grumbles, pulling the excess material of the sleeping bag over his head partially 

A strong arm loops around you as Tommy pulls you in towards him, your back to his chest. A warm kiss is pressed to your ear as he mumbles, “Goodnight, pretty girl, I forgive you.” 

Next part

How bout that season premiere? Interesting to say the least...I really love the Joel and Benjamin dynamic, also Ellie and Dina are so cute.

Oh also, Joel is still hot af, but we all knew that. Pedro Pascal, you've done it again.

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter; I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@freythecrazyfae

[penvisions]

gone to the dogs {chapter 6}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: You and Joel make what you can of the life you lead in the zone, though the thought of more begins to form in your thoughts three years down the line.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, age gap (pre time skip reader late 20's and joel is early 40's, post time skin reader is 30 and joel is mid 40's), outbreak fic, degrading language, violence, heated interactions, adult language, fighting, references to injuries, blood, sexual content, rough sex, p in v, smut, unprotected p in v (it's the end of the world, y'all), slight dom/sub vibes, topping from the bottom maybe?, sexual propositions, oral (m receiving), warnings of pregnancy, unwanted pregnancy, references to off screen abuse, references to off screen assault (not reader), non con touching (not joel), mentions of past use of narcotics, illegal smuggling, references to death, lemme know if i left any out!

A/N: hi and bye (not back to posting on a regular basis yet but wanted to share this with y'all)

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

The ground beneath your feet tears up with the force of your running steps, panic and terror making you numb to the amount of noise you’re making as you try to escape from the man who had separated you from everything you had ever known. A shock of violence for your quiet group as they had settled for the night just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. The image of Frankie being slammed into the ground hard and the breath knocked out of him burned into your mind’s eye. Of everyone, the few still left scattered like bugs underneath a log that was plucked from the earth.

They had come out of nowhere, ambushed your little group a mere five miles out from the zone that you had escaped from at the first sign of trouble, of change. It had only lasted two years, the initial set up for protection and mutual residence. Safety in numbers, safety in routine, safety in working together to preserve what worked from a time past and figuring out what worked in the current time.

But it all deteriorated. You had witnessed it with your own two eyes, the fall of what people clung to, the fall of what little relic of civilization had tried to survive. Frank hadn’t wanted to go, always believing that things could get better, that they wouldn’t fall, that people were good.

He had been convinced when you told him about the officer that had cornered you and tried to force himself on you in exchange for a few extra ration cards. His stuff packed in less than a day and a group of three others who he was on friendly terms with quickly gathering supplies when you showed up at their doorstep.

You had been torn from him, voice hoarse from shouting out at the rough treatment. Distracted by the violence that had befallen your group, territory being protected, and people seen as a threat. The pack of food and supplies was ripped from your shoulders as a man took advantage of your shock, of your shouting for someone who wasn’t you. It was the last time you were ever that unaware of your surroundings. It was the moment that changed the trajectory of your life, altered the very person who you were supposed to be into who you would become.

“Now you listen here and you listen good, little girl.” The man’s breath was ragged as he leaned in close and pressed his hands into the soft give of your chest. Fingers curling in a suggestive manner. “You’re either gonna let me have my way with you or you’re gonna be of some other use. Don’t need no one who can’t earn their keep.”

“Then let me go.” Your eyes look past him, to where Frankie is being thrown to the ground underneath the persuasion of a shotgun. His hands are shaking, held up in front of him. Looking straight at the accomplice of the man who had set his sights on you. A spare glance from both of them, then the man is smirking before turning back to Frankie and saying something that steals all the color from his face.

“Not on the table. We got two jobs for you, it’s your choice which one you’re willing to do.”

“Neither.” You spit into his face, the hold he has on your arm tightening and beginning to sting, your skin smarting.

“Cheeky bitch,” His palm is sharp where it lands on your cheek, stinging. He roughly jostles you, pain blossoming. Throwing you to the ground, all you can do is try to keep the trembling of your bottom lip to yourself and the tears watering your eyes from falling. “You’ll learn to respect me, that’s for damn sure.”

He laid himself over you completely, face far too close, his hands running up and down the length of your body. They lingered in places they shouldn’t, fingers dipped underneath the waistband of your jeans and then settled again over your chest where he feels it in his palms roughly. Moving to caress your face, he croons at how young and pretty you are, unsettling your stomach and rousing bile in your throat. All you can do is force your mind to blank and hope that the others got away…

You feel the same tendrils of fear now, as your boots beat into the ground now. There’s an eerie feeling about the early morning as the rising sun paints the sky with deep pink and orange hues, the distant screeching of possessed beings chasing after you. The safety that’s slowly diminishing as you rush around chunks of concrete and avoid spokes of rebar reaching for you.

Joel isn’t by your side, having pivoted when a clicker ended up between you both. There was a meet up point, in case of separation. That’s where you were headed, even as you hear the runners behind you gain speed at the harsh breaths, you’re unable to silence as your lungs burn.

Your pack catches on the corner as you round a building that still remains standing, the fabric ripping and the contents inside spilling out. You trip on a canister of coffee, the roll of it just right to be wrong and you feel yourself begin to go down. A monstrous snarl is far too close and you don’t even think to look back as you use your hands to push off the side of the building and then shove off the pack, goods be damned. Your life was more important.

He would understand, you know he would, but you still lament the loss of the pack.

You’re suddenly pinned to the ground, a heavy weight on your back uprooting your center of gravity.

Snapping teeth and a deep, guttural snarling fills your ear and drives your heartbeat up to a painful notch. Your hands scrape on the earth beneath you as you plant them as firmly as you can and arch your back to throw off the weight. Gnarled, spindly hands rake down the back of your jacket but the lack of nails on the tips of the infected’s fingers allows for you to buck them off of you directly. As soon as they land beside you, they lunge, crawling toward you on all fours in a terrifying scramble.

The gun you had lays between you both, the safety off. Kicking out, the heel of your boot makes a sickly crunch when you land a hit on the side of the infected’s head. The action pulls out a grating howl but gives you enough time to scurry forward for the weapon and as soon as it’s in your grip you’re pulling the trigger once, twice, three times before the thing collapses on its front and goes silent.

But you don’t waste a second, you don’t think you even take in a full breath before you’re back on your feet and running once again. You can’t see the others, but you can hear them, can sense them honing in on the gunfire and their steps are loud as they careen to where you had been just moments before.

You only watch with bated breath as you hear the distant sound of echoing footsteps from end of the hall. The door to the stairwell pushes open, creaking for the barest of seconds until a single hand curls around it, securing a hold on the handle just so and lifts the door slightly to relieve the tension on the hinges. It’s quiet as it slowly swings open the rest of the way and Joel’s form steps through it.

Your stomach swoops and the tense ball of fear and concern eases in your chest. Because for all your snapping teeth and biting words, for all the brandishing threats of your knife and the deliberate pointing of the barrel of your gun, the power in your decisions – you do have fear. For him to transform into something even you couldn’t bring him back from. From him simply disappearing from you in a heartbeat and you’d be left with nothing but a body that was once warm and housed his soul.

Sucking in a breath to center yourself, you watch as he traverses down the hallway, carefully avoiding the little traps and deterrents you’ve set up over the years. Once he’s cleared the distance and through the door to the apartment that is the hideaway and meet up spot, the door is closed and locked securely behind him.

His hands are scrabbling at you, reaching and pulling you nearly flush to him. Joel’s expression is hard, but behind his eyes you can see the worry and concern that he’s feeling. The steel gray that streaks through his dark hair is more apparent in the sunshine that filters in through broken windows and crumbling walls of the hotel lobby. Prominent in his sideburns, the scruff along the curve of his strong jaw, and the dusting of hairs across his chest. There’s water that has built up over the years, from the rain that trickles in, green with a thick layer of film over the top. It’s not an adjustment anymore to reach for him when you’re overwhelmed, though your voice and instincts betray you in snarky comments and biting rebuttals all the same.

“You did good,” He rumbles, voice breathy as he pants to regain the air in his lungs. He had taken longer to make it to the meeting point, but he was here. He was okay. You feel the harsh beats of your heart begin to calm, your own breathing beginning to even as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in the crook there. His large palms are sliding down your back as he kneels. Hooking underneath your thighs as he hauls you into his arms, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist.

“Nasty scratch there,” You notice the bloody line cut into the skin of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned at the top, his undershirt gone- it’s hanging back in your shared apartment on a drying line from when you had washed it a few days ago. Yesterday’s run was not supposed to drag and turn into an anxious and long overnight stay in the ruins of the city outside of the zone. Not supposed to be a loss, but a win for the collection that steadily grows between two apartments and three partners.

You knew things were getting worse, but this was the first time any run had fallen apart in such a fashion in a long while.

“It’ll heal, they always do.”

He’s littered with them, from runs and trips and even an altercation or two with Bill over the years. But he’s fine, he’s more than fine. He’s…he’s strong, capable, a force to be reckoned with. A big, silhouette of a man that no one would dare to mess with. He’s really come into himself more, defined a clear-cut way of business that he’s taken a more invested front in. You still head the smuggling, the deals, the runs, dictating when and where he and Tess need to be. But he’s definitely the muscle of the operation, the one that people deal with the most.

He's bowing to press his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, spurring hot sparkles to dance along your skin and mingle with the sharp adrenaline that pumps through your veins. Teeth nip sharply at your bottom lip, at cut of your jaw, the column of your neck as he walks you toward the small bedroom at the back of the apartment.

It’s desperate, the way he’s dropping you down on the aged mattress and grasping harshly to flip you onto your knees. It’s depraved, the way his thick fingers undo the buckle of your belt and the fly of your jeans, tears the material over your ass and shoves it to bunch around your knees. It’s reverent the way he skims his palms down the small of your back as he hikes up your shirt and trails them along your sides, feeling the handles of your hips that make him dizzy, the curve of your backside, the ticklish skin of the back of your thighs.

You can’t help the moan that floats from you when he drags his knuckles over the swollen apex between them. But he doesn’t take his time, this round, as you hear the clink of his own belt being undone you can’t help but arch your back more for him. He let’s out a small, breathy fuck as his attention focuses on you and you alone.

The rounded head of his cock is striking as it glides between your slick folds, his skin fire that catches and burns through you in the most delicious way. He’s sliding into you, taking the moment to slow down and catch his own breath, his fingers bruising as they hold tight around your hips.

“Take it.” Joel grunted, hips slamming into the back of your thighs. The heft of his body behind every powerful move pressing you into the creaking bed. The frame was little more than a board of plywood set up on some concrete blocks. The mattress is far too soft from years of use. But it didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered was that he was upright and breathing. It was enough of a comfort in the hiding spot deep in an apartment building that still stands. The windows barricaded and the hallway lined with makeshift sensors to alert of anyone the second they open the stairwell door to the floor. “Such a good girl for me, letting me give you it to you like this.”

His hips slam into you, knocking you forward and one of your hands out from under you. A deep, guttural sound heaves from your chest at the new angle. As you’re bent and arched in a way that allows him to drive even deeper, to fill you even more. The thick feel of him has you fluttering around his base, your clit throbbing at the pleasure that crawls over your skin in a hot sparkling sensation. “Always love to see this thick, fucking ass ripple. How you let me do what I want, give me the chance to show you what you mean to me. See the way she swallows me into her tight, slick heat. God, you always feel so good. Better than any pills, better than any drink.”

He’s never been loud, at least excessively, but the mouth on him lately has even your head spinning. The walls he had constructed around himself lowering when he shared his space and body with you. When you shared your own with him.

You reach into the front pocket of your pants, still bunched around your knees. Taking a pack of travel tissues out and a single one from inside as you move to wipe yourself clean of his drying spend. Behind you he gets up to his feet as well, his thighs protesting the movement, his knees twinging at the weight of him standing. The barely audible pops and cracks of his body realigning itself after the rather intense actions catch your ear as much as it does his. A small groan rumbles deep in his chest as he gathers his breath, face turning away from you as he reaches down to rub at the bends of his knees.

“A little too much for you, hmm?” You needle, unable to help the saccharine coo from your voice as you turn around onto your back and look down to the end of the bed. Your chest is rising, heart racing and body singing as you still feel him all around you, his touch a brand into your skin.

“Ain’t enough, actually.” His teeth glint as he brandishes them at you before leaning over you to playfully nip at the end of your nose. Your eyes light up as a raspy giggle sneaks up from somewhere deep in your middle, the glint in his eyes sparkling as he takes in the mirth his action drew out.

“You say that, but your knees seem to want to argue that.” You lean up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing completely against him. He groans as your unclothed hips meet his, the press of your still slick skin against him where he hadn’t tucked himself away just yet. Another giggle sounds in the air and he’s mumbling underneath his breath, knowing that you’re trying to get a rise out of him with your taunting. He steps back, putting ample space between your burning bodies before he thinks better of it.

He’s approaching, eyes zoned in on the tissues in your hands as he comes up in front of you. You don’t try to hide your smirk as he snatches the small pack out of your hand, lips curling in an ill masked grimace before pulling one free from the plastic.

His hands are shaky, the adrenaline of the separation and then rather…enthusiastic reunion is draining, leaving him a mess of shot nerves. Cooing, you circle him and back his large frame up to the edge of the shitty mattress until his calves are pressed up to it. Locking eyes with him, you place a hand firmly on his chest and push him to take a seat. He does so willingly, body losing some tension as his backside sinks into the fabric.

“Why don’t you let me clean you up?”

“Already got this,” Joel tries and fails to fight off a yawn as he waves the tissue in front of him. His teeth snap shut with a clack as you kneel in front of him, shoulder your way between his knees, and press a caste kiss to the still swollen head of his half-hard cock where it bobs in his lap. The jingle of the belt he had re-looped is loud as his hips jerk, oversensitive where his pants had barely been pulled back up over his hips.

The pack of tissues falls to the ground as you wrap your lips around him and lick your own release where it saturated his entire length. A testament to what he does to you, what he still does to you with a single look. Casting your eyes up through your lashes, you can see the way his own flutter as he struggles to keep them open and trained on you. His eyes snap open wide when the hands trailing over his middle beneath his shirt caress the jumping muscles in his thighs, one wrapping securely around the base of his cock and squeezing while the other sneaks between your legs.

His deep voice rattles of endless praise and encouragement as you both find another crest together.

You move to pick the pack up from the ground, but his hand pulls you toward him. The action is too quick, your legs too weak for the sudden movement, and you stumble into him where he’s still perched on the edge of the mattress. His hands cup your backside, thick fingers digging into the skin as he holds you in his lap, your hands tight over his biceps for balance. His chuckle is dark as he murmurs something about wanting more time to see how much he can really tired you out before he’s leaning in to kiss you deeply. The scruff about his face is a soft hush against your skin but you revel in the feel of it.

Rough movements for a rough man.

The pressure of his hands disappears for a moment before he’s bringing them down to smack his palm to the flesh. Gasping, you look up at him to meet the playful look of shock on his rugged features.

It morphs into a smirk, eyes calculating as he watches whatever crumbs he can glimpse of your thoughts across your face.

It’s not uncharted territory, it’s not uncommon ground, the crackling intensity of shared desire. It’s a facet of your life now, hidden between the seedier parts of survival, fending for yourself and protecting what was yours every minute of every day.  The physical connection you found with Joel is equal parts exhilarating and daunting. A reprieve of the harshness of life in the zone, but it could just as easily turn into damnation alongside everything else.  

You lean forward and kiss him deeply, his lips bruising as they move against yours again and again.

He sneaks a hand underneath your chin and nudges your face up more. Eventually he pulls away from you and something different swirls behind his eyes that has your heartrate pick up again. Something you see more of as the days come and go.

There’s a depth to them, beyond his hidden emotions and easily displayed ones, as if he was feeling the minute shift in the air that was beginning to take place. One prompted unwittingly by the thoughts that were beginning to tumble inside your brain, one in particular more than others. The idea was a silent one, a personal one. A way to get out, a way to make your own little bubble away from it all. To be more like Bill and Frankie. You think his own mind may be on the same wavelength or that he at least senses the yearning that is beginning to glow in your chest.

“All you gotta do is ask and I’ll oblige.” The words are whispered, like it’s a secret that they exist. Only for you to hear and only this far away from the place you both begrudgingly call home. You duck your head, to hide the small glint of teeth that betrayed a satisfied grin, his eyes catch it anyway and he dips down to nip at your bottom lip in a teasing manner.

You could feel his eyes on you still, as you detangled from him with a lingering caress to his neck, his muscles twitching at the soft touch. His dark eyes always watching as they took in the way you jiggled a little to get the waist of your jeans back up on your hips, the movement making your chest bounce in your tank top.

“Hmm, sure know how to fill ‘em out.” He’s reaching to trace a finger along your collarbone, thoughts swirling in the brown depths of his beautiful eyes. Watching, cataloguing, cautious and on alert every second of every day. “Zone’s getting worse, with the change of the season.”

“Medical bay is already rationing the antibiotics and steroids. Hell, they have been but it’s more apparent as this…strain of flu or whatever wreaks havoc.”

“Don’t want you gettin’ sick.” You hear the unspoken sentiment in his voice, the worry he holds as you had shared with him one night that you have recurring nightmares of suffocating as your body works against itself. Tries to fight off sickness only to be too weak. He hadn’t understood at first, when you whispered it to him. He had thought you were worried about being Infected, of the cordyceps, which you were. But you had explained that you meant you were worried of finding your death in something simple, something completely preventable. Something that would reveal just how weak you were, how human you were.

He had fallen silent, when you explained it. You hadn’t pushed him to share his own nightmares and he hadn’t dug any deeper into yours, but you know he thinks of the exchange often.

Once you were both fully dressed, he pulls you into a tight hold that you wouldn't classify as a hug, but for him it was. You huff as the air is squeezed from your lungs. Your body tenses for a millisecond before relaxing and bringing your arms around him, around his middle. You rest your head on his chest, his chin going to rest atop it. You squeeze him back, just relishing the fleeting casual intimacy.

Knowing it was only a moment and the gruff commands and barks of words would resume the second you both stepped out from the abandoned building. The way he acted in public so drastically different from how he softened when he was alone with you. It had been years, since that first explosive argument and then whispered plea to let him take care of you, it had been a long journey to get to this point and you’d be damned if anything threatened the life you had made for yourself. The life you had made with the man you leaned into willingly and wholeheartedly.

Sickness plagues the zone, from the youngest to the soldiers. It’s nasty, the strain of influenza, and stronger than the medication that has begun to wane in potency the longer is sits in bottles and foil packets. There are no more shots to take, no more antibiotics or narcotics of medical grade. Unless you were willing to pay big, and even then there was no guarantee it would save you.

There are so many bodies to burn each day, you know it and Tess knows it. But Joel doesn’t speak about it, just wordlessly enters the shared apartment and immediately showers after his shifts. Emerges in cleaner clothing and makes a beeline for the hooch you keep hidden underneath a loose plank in the floorboard. Today is one of those days, he’s off at work to earn enough ration cards to make the deal of getting you and Tess medical attention to combat the sickness you’ve both come down with.

Eventually the sickness has found itself at your doorstep, catching you and Tess by surprise even with the extra caution you both exhibited around others. Makeshift masks, excessive hand washing, but it wiggled its way into your immune systems all the same.

It's been two weeks, neither of you able to work or do much beyond organize trades for him to do until dark. Both of you losing weight, with hardly any appetite and fevers that wane in intensity.

Despite feeling like the very little food you had been able to keep down all day was making its way back up your esophagus, you push yourself up from the couch where you and Tess had been going over inventory of all the items hidden in both your apartments when a soft knock sounded on the front door.

Getting a knife into your palm, a small security, you peer through the cracked peephole. A moment passes as you watch the young girl on the other side of the door fidget in her spot, looking down both sides of the hallway before down back at her interlocked hands in front of her. She looks vaguely familiar, like the girl that Joel had once given a thick handful of ration cards one random day and then every two weeks since then. The same girl that you see around the mess hall and on job sites that have to do with the more lightweight work to ensure the zone keeps up in operation.

He hadn’t said as much, but you know he watched out for her. Tried to prevent her from falling into the seedy dealings and scene of the zone that grew bigger each year. The trade of skin for ration cards and goods, for food, for protection too prominent a life for girls and women alike. Their bodies simply another thing they could offer up in order to survive another day. But you know she’s on his radar, though she had yet to set foot in your apartment or Tess’s.

And you didn’t think it was sexual, you trusted him on that front. No, it was born of a need to protect and prevent, much like the way he watched over you and Tess. Another part of the pack that he deemed important. You had asked, once when you first noticed her eyeing him up across a crowded street, if the older woman recognized her. All she knew was that the girl used to work in the speak easy sometimes frequented. That was years ago now, but you always made sure to save a portion of anything you managed to bake from the sorry excuse of supplies the cards still got you. For Joel to give to her, the errant thought of having her move in with Tess was unspoken but on all three of your minds the worse things got.

“Yes?” You crack open the door and peek through the space, but you’re opening the door completely and ushering her in as you spy the tear tracks that stain her delicate face. She’s so young, you realize, a decade younger than you for sure, two more than Joel. You idly wondered the reasoning behind his soft spot for her, but then you realize whatever spurred it also spurred the one he has for you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know where else to go. And M-Mr. Miller said to come for him if I ever needed help. Is- is he here?” You turn back to look at Tess, her own curiosity controlled into an even expression.

“He’s run out for something after his shift, are you hurt?” You close the door firmly behind her. Securing the lock in place and taking a deep breath before you reached out to touch a gentle hand to her shoulder. She cowers, a small whimper escaping from between her pale lips. “Do you need immediate aid?”

“N-no, just…bruises that are fading,” She rubs at her shoulder, thin hand reaching up and exposing her wrist and the mottled skin there. Your eyes narrow at the sight, Tess equally, is focused on the girl now.

Fuck, she couldn’t be more than twenty…

“I-I don’t know how I was even going to tell him, so it’s probably good you two are here…” Her voice trembles, fresh tears trailing down her cheeks.

“What is it-” Tess starts, cautiously stepping into the kitchen as you usher the girl into a chair. Her knees knock together as she struggles not to bounce them or cross one over the other. The stilted way in which she pivots her hips tells you more than she had verbally so far and your chest pangs for her. Kneeling down, you gingerly place a hand on one of her knees and assure her that she’s safe here with you both. That she can tell you as much or as little as she is comfortable with, but that you need her name and at least a direction to move in.

“Jean, my name is Jean.”

“Jean, is-who did it?” You can see it in the way she’s moving, the healing that her body is still attempting to do. The bruises that have nearly faded along her neck and the way her eyes cut to every sound that neither you nor Tess caused. The older woman stands at her full height at the shift in your voice from cautious and on edge to thinly veiled anger. “Who hurt you?”

“I-it was one of the guys who I used to work for in the speak easy. He…he cornered me one evening after my shift at the kitchens. He-he-” She breaks down, her sobs creating a valley in your chest that you recall heaving yourself once upon a time. “He did this.”

Something is thrust into your hand, thin and long and plastic. You glance down at it, surprise and anger fighting for purchase as your chest blooms with something akin to fierce protection.

It’s a pregnancy test. And it’s positive.

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[heevanly]

LATE NIGHT TALKS : LEE HEESEUNG (이희승)

𝐬yn. : being the host of a college late night radio talk show was a passion project since freshman year of college, but now as a senior, y/n hadn't expected the fame it brought to herself on campus... but maybe it was the recent string of murders that caused more tuning in than ever seen before.

𝐰arnings. / 𝐭ags. : (18+!). small series. gore. horror. college au. similar to a murder mystery au. swearing. mentions of wanting to vomit (no vomiting occurs). humor. mildly suggestive. no smut. main character death. side character death. heeseung and jay are manipulators. jay and heeseung have a small argument. enha members as main / side characters. lsf members as side characters. ive members as side characters. pet names used mockingly (baby, sweetheart, honey). more to be added as parts come out.

𝐧ote. : warnings are just overall, not everything mentioned is in this part in particular (like 98% is tho). also welcome to my first fully published work, i hope you guys like it. everything is also in lowercase, not sure why but that's just how things ended up happening haha.

𝐭aglist. : @livsateez @velvethana @ilyjxdz

© @heevanly 2024 | do NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, or steal my works.

WC : 6.7k

Part Two. (TBD)

walking towards the music building on your campus was always the worst trek for you. it was the furthest building from your on-campus apartment and it was a combination of uphill walking, stairs, and loose gravel sidewalk that for some reason the school had yet to get fixed. you kick a loose rock and grumble incoherently, watching the rock hit the bottom stair leading up to the building. letting out a sigh you begin walking up the last of the stairs that leads towards the building. 

the night was serene at least, a bit chilly but it was still early spring, you’re just glad the hoodie you’re currently wearing is enough to block out the wind blowing past every so often. with the last bit of sunlight fading behind the horizon, you scan your fob into the building’s sensor, unlocking the doors.

a small noise crunches somewhere from behind you and your head immediately turns in the direction of the sound yet nothing is there. eyebrows furrowing, you rescan the fob and head inside the building shaking your head, “i hate walking at night, curse heeseung and his off-campus apartment, if only he’d pick me up.”

you head into the hallway that holds the elevators that lead into the basement. it’s never been the most ideal location to record, but it offered a few rooms that had equipment and space you needed to borrow.

after the trip down from the elevator you walk into the room the four of you have continuously used for the radio show. setting your bag down you start cleaning up the space, trashing old papers left behind, wiping the tables, doing simple tests on the mics to just make sure they work, overall just getting the place ready. you leave jay and jake's stuff mainly untouched, as they have their own way of setting up the lights, mic sensitivities, and what all else.

the door opens up behind you as you continue to do tasks around the rooms, not bothering to look at the door, you glance at the clock instead, “hey guys, you’re a bit earlier than when you normally get here.. we still got an hour.. but since you’re here could you,” your voice quiets down as you turn to address whoever was behind you directly, however no one is in the room.

“what the hell,” you mutter out scratching your head, “i swear i heard the door open.”

you quickly scan the room you’re in, checking under the table to see if one of the four decided to fool around a bit. seeing no one under there you move to the other room where jay and jake usually stay in, but no one is seen there either. a sense of unease begins to grow in your stomach but you decide to keep yourself busy by finishing up tasks in the room. printing out the schedule and loose script for the recording, you skim through, making sure you didn’t leave anything out and once satisfied you set the schedules and script in heeseung’s and your spot.

the clock reads 9:27 pm and you sit down on the couch, getting comfortable, getting ready for the other three to walk in at any moment. your phone rings and seeing jake’s contact pop up, you answer.

“hey jake, what’s up, did something happen?”

jake clears his throat on the other side, “y/n! glad you answered, couldn’t get a hold of heeseung, but i told jay already- wait is he there yet?”

“er, no.. well at least i don’t think so.” you scan the room once before playing with the charms on your nails.

“what..?” jake asks, confusion in his tone, “you don’t think so? y/nnie i hate to break it to ya but i think you’d know if someone was in the room with you.”

you let out a puff of air out through your noise in fake annoyance, “yes i’m well aware of that jake sim. but i heard the door open up behind me a little bit ago and i figured it was one of you guys stopping in a little early but no one was there so..”

“well.. i’m sure it’s just your pretty little mind playin tricks then, anyways jay should be there soon though, he left the flat a bit ago- oh right! since he isn’t there i guess i should tell you. i can’t make it tonight, forgot i overscheduled myself with my plans so i have somewhere else i need to be tonight.”

“what? jake why didn’t you say anything earlier today? i mean it’s fine, i got the room mainly all ready anyway but a warning other than being like five minutes before you get here would’ve been nice.” you click your tongue in annoyance to further drive the point in. frankly, you didn’t mind that much but teasing jake a little bit was something you couldn’t pass up.

you hear jake give a dejected sigh and stifle a laugh, “ok listen i know i know, i’ll make it up to you i promise but just this night i can’t make it alright?”

“yeah yeah, you have fun with your plans or whatever.”

jake chuckles, “oh i will, see ya y/n.”

the call ends just as jay walks in, he gives you a little wave and sets his stuff by yours, “here like always, before everyone else is.”

you drum your nails along the couch’s arm rest as you watch jay get situated in the room, “someone has to get everything ready, and it sure ain’t gonna be jake with the way he bailed on us tonight. and we’re lucky if heeseung shows up 10 minutes before we go on air.”

jay lets put a small laugh, “he told you he’d be gone? thought i was gonna have to be the one to tell you.”

“nah he told me, think he’s trying to get a hold of hee right now too.”

“eugh, good luck to him then.”

you raise your eyebrows in understanding, “yeah.. anyhow i printed out the schedules and cleaned everything up so..”

jay sits in his seat and turns to you, “you emailed me my schedule right?”

“yup, did it before i left my apartment.”

“perfect, alright you go get set up and i’ll test your mic and make sure feedback is clear.” upon hearing jay’s words you get up from the couch and move to sit down in your chair, jay gives you a thumbs up and you test your microphone, “test test test.”

jay fiddles around with a few notches and motions with his hand to try once again, “test test test.” you repeat into the microphone, which you receive a thumbs up and lean in your seat. all thats left was to wait for heeseung.

a few minutes later and he walks in, dragging his bag behind him, “woah dude you look like shit.” jay says, looking heeseung up and down.

“this assignment for prof kim is killing me,” heeseung groans out, exasperated, “i swear she wants me dead.”

your jaw drops slightly at the look of heeseung, “have you slept recently?”

heeseung drops his bag with everyone else’s, “just did, i was supposed to work on the assignment, fell asleep, woke up and sprinted over here.”

his hair was all tousled up and his shirt was slightly stained but his jacket managed to cover most of it up and his pants looked as if in some places dust or dirt got smeared onto it.

jay does one more look at heeseung before turning around in his seat, “alright well man, go get situated next, we’ll test your mic.”

heeseung simply nods before walking to his seat next, once jay gives him the go ahead he speaks up in the microphone, “test test.” jay gives the thumbs up to heeseung and you look up at the clock, 9:58 pm, almost time to go live.

you turn to heeseung, “you sure you’re alright? if you’re that tired i can handle doing a night alone.”

hee gives you a small smile, “promise im all good, that nap was like.. one of those ones where you wake up not knowing who you are or where you are kind, so i’m like.. oddly rejuvenated right now. think i could even fight off a werewolf and win.”

blinking once and then twice you look at him and slowly nod your head, “oohhhhhh kay mister tough guy.. whatever you say..”

“you not believing me is not very kind you know.” heeseung frowns, his lips forming a pout.

“i know, oh-! we’re going live.. 3.. 2..”

"welcome welcome welcome toooo SCU 101.85, you’re currently tuning in to the 10 o’clock pm talk show. i’m your host y/n and i’m here with my co-host..” you turn away from the microphone and glance at your co-host, lee heeseung.

“heeseung.” he speaks up into his microphone, shuffling a few of the papers around.

“and it’s currently a friday night, it’s 67 degrees out with a small breeze too so make sure you wear that jacket!” you chirp.

heeseung snorts and you pass him a look which he returns with a shrug, “you just sound chipper.. s’all.”

“ah.. well our ratings have been going up again.. it’s better than we’ve been seeing these past four months.. so.”

the past four months have been rather difficult for you and heeseung and the radio show. when you started this project sophomore year, it had just been you and your roommate kim chaewon, your ratings were steady in the beginning but had started declining after two months, which made your at the time co-host and roommate, quit. you don’t blame her, you nearly stopped too, which was before heeseung hit you up asking if you still needed another co-host.

accepting his help was the best thing you had done, his roommates jake and jay were all about the technical jargon behind running a radio show, which the reasoning was apparently the three had thoughts about starting a podcast but couldn’t get the timing right to actually get it started, so here they were willing to help you out.

production took off and the four of you found yourselves seeing steady viewers and got to even open a talk line, which was a segment that both you and heeseung took seriously, finding fun in chatting with anonymous students with various complaints they had of others, professors, relationships, or whatever else going on in their lives.

then, out of nowhere four months ago, the viewers started thinning out, causing your small team of four’s good feelings to falter. having been used to success it was shocking to be randomly met with a hard wall and seemingly, no way of getting out.

heeseung and your’s efforts were all in vain as you tried advertising the radio talk show, you had chaewon talk to her friends about spreading the show, heeseung talked to about it to his other friends and also had them spread the word. jake would mention it at his part time job, and jay even mentioned it at a small on-campus event, which he texted that he was never doing again out of sheer embarrassment.

heeseung hums, “well.. i could imagine people have been feeling a bit safer because of us, due to…” he trails off.

right, there's been a few recent deaths that have plagued not only your campus, but the town. you claim they’re very obviously murders while heeseung’s been claiming it’s been various unfortunate accidents. so far the death toll has hit only four, two on campus, one at a campus nearby, and one on the outskirts of town.

“the murders.” you finish his sentence off, gravelly.

heeseung rolls his eyes, but remembers that the listeners can’t actually see that, “you’re so obsessed with these being murders,” he teases.

“well.. it’s quite obvious, no?” you ask, tilting your head a little bit.

“ehh, i wouldn’t really say so, besides the two on campus cause they were ruled as a murder-suicide. regardless that was two months ago and the one at KTU was concluded to be an unfortunate accident.. shit what did they say about how she died again?” heeseung racks his brain, trying to remember how the girl from KTU died two weeks ago.

you scatter your papers around, “wasn’t it something about a lab issue..? their school got to close down because of it, that’s.. uh.. kind of all i remember about that.”

“oh you’re going to hell, haven’t you been following this whole thing since the murder-suicide on campus..?” heeseung laughs loudly and you slump in your chair, embarrassment flooding your system.

you sit back up and clear your throat, “in my defense..”

heeseung accusing points at you, “you! don’t have one.”

“pause, yes i do! rude…. my defense is that the fourth one’s been throwing me off with this whole thing, that i focused a little less on the third girl.” you huff out.

the fourth death was the weirdest in the whole thing so far, it happened a few days ago and it’s been the only one where the person involved wasn’t in the same age range and died supposedly.. well.. naturalistically. it had been a middle aged man, who was on his way home from work. apparently the report and the news claimed his tire gotten flat and when he had gotten out to check on it, he had been mauled by a pack of wolves wandering through. 

the police and how they concluded it just didn’t make sense to you, you stayed up for two days trying to determine it all. first, wolves hadn’t been sighted in that area for several months so a random pack coming through didn’t make sense. second, the blood inside the car, how did it even manage to get in there if the man was supposedly outside? the third rea-

heeseung snaps his fingers to try and get your attention back to the talk show, “hey, y/n, quit thinking about it, you’re just gonna make yourself paranoid.. or worse.. really obsessive over this.”

you sigh, biting at your lip as you mull over his words, “my bad, i just need to stay up on all this, our viewers need the information, they deserve the best after all.”

“and the best of the best is from two college seniors..?” heeseung raises an eyebrow.

“absolutely!” you respond, “we’re the only ones giving multiple sides to these events and ways to stay safe.”

“i’m sure the news have been doin all that too though.”

“pff, news schmooze,” you wave your hand at heeseung, “college students don’t care about tuning into the morning news before classes or turning the evening news on, we’re a source of entertainment AND murder mystery, and that’s what eats up.” 

“you’re greedy, y/n, soo greedy.” heeseung shoots a grin your way, a way to let you know he doesn’t mean it.

trying to stop a grin from making its way on your face, you roll your eyes, “oh suck my dick lee heeseung.” 

“gladlyyy..” he sings out, wiggling his eyebrows and chuckles into his microphone.

“you’re a freak..” you gather your papers back up and glance up at the clock, 10:26 pm, time to open up the first talk line segment of the night.

you give a small nod towards heeseung and he nods back and clears his throat, “well well well SCU you are listening on 101.85 and it’s rolling up to 10:30 pm, we got a two minute sponsor for y’all and when we come back live, our callers will be up discussin’ random whatever with us. give us a call at +82 70-5208-6001 and see if you’re lucky enough. again that is +82 70-5208-6001. see you soon.”

both you and heeseung give a thumbs up to the room in front of you and jay switches your sets off, rolling the sponsor. a few seconds pass and before you’re able to turn to heeseung to just casually chat, the switchboard for the phone calls light up, more so than you’ve ever seen before.

turning to heeseung you give him a look of wonder, his eyebrows are furrowed as if hes wondering the same thing you are, why are there so many callers tonight? jay clicks off the sponsor and puts on a jazzy song before stepping into the room, “what’s up with the callers tonight?”

heeseung looks up at jay, “not sure bro, we’re just as confused as you are. we haven’t seen anything like this before.”

the calls keep coming through, lighting up the board until nearly all have popped up, indicating that people are on the line waiting to chat.

jay takes a glance at his set up and back at the two of you and the board, “well you guys got about a minute before we go on air, can’t keep them waiting for too long so just…” he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “just… i suppose keep their talking segments shorter..? man i wish jake was here right now he could help weed through the callers with me on my end.”

heeseung raises an eyebrow at jay, “he’s not here today at all? i thought he was just late?”

“nah, up and bailed last second, said somethin’ about a date but i think he’s lying.” jay rolls his eyes, “30 seconds, you’re both up soon.”

jay closes the door and you look over at heeseung, frowning “why the hell did he schedule a date during the same time he’s supposed to be here? he told me it was important, not that a date isn’t but i was thinking something with his parents or.. i don’t know..”

heeseung mulls it over for a few seconds, “i mean unless he was planning on bringin her home..”

“dude.”

“it’s jake we’re talking about, y/n.”

“okay, yeah you’re right, well you wanna go first with the calls then..?”

heeseung nods, the on air button lights up and he clicks on a random caller, “hey lucky number one, congratulations you’re on air with us on STU 101.85, what’s your name?”

“hey guys it’s yunjin!” yunjin’s voice is heard through the speaker.

you sit up in your seat a little bit, “oh my god, hey girl! thanks for calling, how you been tonight?” 

“same old same old, prof jeon is an asshole still and said my submitted designs lacks the ‘creative theme’ of what he asked for. the problem is, is that he gave us no theme, aside from it being wearable. so i based it off of 1960’s greek spring chic wear and now he’s denied my third design.”

heeseung nods his head, “we’ve heard from other fashion design majors that prof jeon is the worst, i guess this goes to show to any sophomores and juniors to not finish your semesters as a senior with prof jeon.”

yunjin scoffs, “you could say that again, i wish i took prof song’s class, apparently shes at least nicer with going about denying designs.”

“isn’t she tough to impress though..? i hear her students always come back with lower scores than those who take prof jeon?” you ask, “wouldn’t that be.. worse?”

“oh you’re right.. ugh just don’t be a fashion design major, worst choice ever.”

heeseung lets out a laugh, “alright well we’re gonna let you go and head to the next caller, good luck on the rest of your assignment.”

a hum is heard through the speaker, “yeah i should really get to finish on working with the fourth design, you guys have fun, i’ll still be tuned in too.”

the line clicks and heeseung switches to another caller, “and listeners that was miss yunjin, another senior here at STU, you may have seen her around workin tirelessly at the sewing machines in the fashion department, so send some luck her way for dealing with prof jeon. now we got our next caller with us, you’re on air!”

silence fills the studio and jay looks at you two through the window, mouthing a “the fuck?” and you two shrug, confusion on the both of your faces.

“uh.. dude? you there?” heeseung looks annoyed as he shuffles around in his seat.

more silence fills the room and now you can also feel annoyance creep into your body, “hey, listen if you’re not gonna talk we’ll move on. not sure if you stepped away from your phone at all or what kind of prank you’re trying to pull but you can cut it out, it’s not funny and it just holds us and everyone else up.”

“..01101000,” a gravelly, raw voice crackles through.

heeseung sits up, “okay i’m changing the caller, you’re a weirdo and can get off our line.”

 the voice continues, “..01100101.. 01101100–”

heeseung cuts the line, cutting the voice off too.

“freak.” you mutter, “what the hell was that?”

heeseung shrugs, “sounded like binary code, probably someone from comp sci deciding to pull a prank on us.”

“well they’re not funny, that was weird and kind of scary.” a shiver runs down your spine as you think about the voice that crackled through, whoever it was managed to perfectly replicate fear in their voice.

“oh don’t worry, i can protect you.” heeseung winks at you.

“i think my chances of survival lay better with jay, hee.” you look down to choose the next caller as heeseung makes a noise of offense, taking your words to heart.

“he would not-”

you connect to the caller, “and you’re the third caller of the night, thank you for spending your night here with us at STU 101.85, may we get your name?”

“uh, yeah hi it’s yang jungwon.. i’m a sports medicine major.”

your eyes lit up in recognition at the name and voice, “oh yeah! you’re on the journalism club right? i’ve seen you there frequently.”

“yeah, thanks for helping us out, y/n. uhm, you know i wasn’t positive that i’d get picked so i guess i’m unsure of how to say this.”

heeseung leans closer to his mic, “what do you mean, jungwon?”

“uh, well it’s just, that last caller and then the mysterious figure on campus is what i wanted to talk to you about."

that made you sit up straighter in your seat and from your glance at heeseung, his interest piqued as well.

“go ahead jungwon, we’re interested and i’m sure all the other listeners are too.” you give the green light for jungwon to essentially take over the whole talking segment.

jungwon takes a deep breath and you can hear some shuffling in the background as he gets ready to speak,“okay well, i’ve been staying late on campus for the last week because i work on the sports section of the campus news website right? and i’m not sure what’s been going on but i’ve noticed this shrouded figure walking late at night. they seem to be following any student late at night leaving the stem building.”

you look up at jay and then over to heeseung, the both of them listening to jungwon’s words intently you look back down at the board as jungwon continues, “i think it’s cause they often stay behind the latest right? i’m not sure, i felt it was better to be here and say it as a warning, in case the man was dangerous.”

heeseung speaks up, “you’re saying something now? didn’t you say it’s been the past week?”

jungwon is silent for a few seconds before breathing out, “okay yeah i figured someone would ask that, honestly i thought it was a prank at first, especially because it was a costume the person was wearing.”

“costume?” you ask, “what sort’ve costume?”

“it was that ghostface costume, you know like the scream movies one?”

“ghostface?” heeseung asks, skepticism in his tone, “you saw a dude in a ghostface costume? in spring?”

jungwon clicks his tongue, “that’s why i didn’t say anything, because it just sounds stupid. i really thought it was just a prank someone was pullin on a friend.”

you nervously pick at your nails as you think about jungwon’s words, “you’re saying something now though aren’t you? what made you change your mind?”

jungwon hesitates before saying anything, “the call.”

you raise an eyebrow, “what’s the call got anything to do with the ghostface random?”

“i.. got a weird call yesterday night, it was the same voice that just called you guys. honestly if i wasn’t seeing the costume dude on campus i wouldn’t have thought much of it or if i wasn’t tuned into the radio show tonight.” 

“why don’t you go to the police or campus security? dude like campus security should and would kick the guy off campus, even if what he’s doing is harmless, he’s being creepy.” heeseung sighs out and rubs his forehead a little.

“i did, they think i’m sleep deprived and seein shit, apparently they can’t find ‘any evidence’ that supports that someone's walking around being weird so they think i just need more sleep.”

“what about that phone call? isn’t it logged?” you’re honestly a bit worried for jungwon, something weird is happening, the murders, the calls, and the shrouded costume ghostface guy.

jungwon speaks a bit faster, trying to get all the information he can into the hands of however many people are listening, “thought it was, i re-called the number two days ago and it just immediately disconnects, then the number was gone from my phone yesterday. poof up and deleted from my call log.”

“oh what the hell..” you breathe out, heeseung looks pale as he listens to jungwon’s words.

“dude.. does that not remind you of the damn scream movies? like at least in some way?” heeseung shakingly asks, “it literally sounds like you’re being hunted jungwon.”

a clang is heard and a quiet “fuck” before some shuffling, “sorry dropped my phone, you kinda freaked me there with that heeseung.” jungwon lets out a sardonic laugh.

you turn to heeseung and lightly smack his arm, “no for real, why would you say some shit like that.”

heeseung splutters, “well.. like does it not? i don’t want to sound grave or mean about this right now but genuinely this shit sounds like jungwon is in danger.”

“not helping, dude.” jungwon speaks into his phone, voice low.

“no he’s got a point jungwon. with what hee’s talking about, you could really be in some serious danger. i mean a famous point of scream was the calls to the victims and if you’re really seeing someone run around in the ghostface costume..” you trail off unable to voice the rest of your concerns aloud.

“well thanks for helping me out you two,” the sarcasm in jungwon’s voice is clear and you flinch out of guilt. you didn’t mean to freak jungwon out a bit more, he really wanted to just warn people on campus who were out late. “regardless thanks for warning everyone on this, listeners tell your friends or if you know of any late night students, tell them they should be careful on campus now if they’re out late, just in case. jungwon this goes for you too you know?”

“yeah i know, i’m already off campus now so i should be fine.”

heeseung picks at his jacket’s sleeves, “still man, sounds like you gotta keep yourself safe anywhere.”

“i will, thanks for letting me stay for a while longer than you normally let your callers on.” from the background noise going on in jungwon’s call it sounds like someone coming in through his door, “i’ll go ahead and get going now, my roommate brought food and we’re gonna eat, thanks for having me guys!”

jungwon ends the call and you glance up at the clock which reads 11:07 pm, “alright we have time for one more caller, normally we’d have ended this by 11:00pm and done another segment at 11:30pm as you are all aware but i guess we’ll just have one long talk segment today. heeseung you wanna do the honors for the last lucky caller.”

heeseung nods and clicks on the next caller, “lucky number four, you are live with us at STU 101.85, you get to be the last call of the night with us, anything on your mind that you’d like to chat with us about?” heeseung and you are met with heavy breathing into the phone’s microphone. 

“hello..?” you call out tentatively and heeseung groans out beside you, “alright i’m really getting sick of the people who decide to prank us.”

the breathing stops abruptly at heeseung’s words and your breath hitches in the back of the throat. you’re unsure as to why the caller made you nervous, heeseung is right, prank calls have been weirdly often tonight, this was the second one of the night after all. heeseung’s hands reach to change the caller and that’s when a weird low static sounding voice filters through, “don’t hang me up, lee heeseung.”

heeseung stops his movement’s mid way and your head whips into his direction quickly, the voice continues, “why don’t you put your hand back down. we’re going to chat.” heeseung quickly obliges and fear has overtaken everyone in the room, jay from where he is, is even frozen from the voice.

“much better. thank you for having me on your lovely radio show. you know, i’m not exactly the happiest at having been the last caller, but i suppose only the best are chosen as the final right?” the voice takes a shaky breath before continuing, “y/n,” you freeze as your name comes out, “don’t you think being the final one is best too..?”

you don’t answer, unsure if that’s the best course of action, you just can’t bring yourself to say any words at this moment, but the mysterious caller decides he’ll make you answer, “answer me y/n. you get to choose the fate of someone very important tonight after all.”

your blood runs cold at his words, eyes shaking and tears even start to brim, you stutter out, “what.. what do you mean?”

“i’m so glad you asked honey, let’s bring out my special guest out.” the sounds of a muffled cry and cloth are heard before jake’s voice faint and hoarse comes out of the phone, “let us go man, just please let us go.”

you gasp loudly, heeseung slams his fist down at the table, and jay upon hearing jake’s voice runs into the room, a look you’ve never seen before on his face, either of their faces. jay looks like he may faint yet angry while heeseung looks as if he’s never experienced anger in the way he’s had before.

“i’m sure you know now who is with me.” the voice chuckles and you can hear some crying from a girl as well in the background, “i managed to get a two for one deal tonight for you all.”

“the fuck do you want with us?” heeseung grits out and the caller laughs.

“it’s not so what i want with your group, it’s what i want done with you, lee heeseung.”

heeseung’s bravado falters slightly, “what are you talking about? what could i offer you?”

“i wanna know why.. scratch that i think.. everyone here tonight deserves to know why actually, about the things you’ve done for your beloved radio show.”

you slowly turn your head to heeseung and he’s pale, hands slightly shaking, “hee? what is this guy talking about?”

heeseung looks up at you, pupils blown wide in fear and you feel your heart break at how scared he is, you know you’re not much better either, “i.. i don’t know, this doesn’t make any sense, i.. there’s.. i don’t know.” he’s panicking and you reach over to grab his hand to calm him down some. his hands are clammy but given the situation you understand, you squeeze and he squeezes back.

the voice scoffs, “oh please, get that fake shit out of my face. heeseung knows what he did sweetheart and if i were you i would think twice about holding his hands when all they know are acts of violence.”

jay speaks up before you have the choice to ask what they meant, “i’m calling the police, sick freak.”

“ah ah ah..” the caller tuts out, “if any of you three call the police, your beloved pal jake is getting gutted. i’ll even string out his body parts so prettily for you. send some lovely pictures, y/n you’d appreciate my art for you? right?”

you frankly feel like throwing up and you shake your head frantically, “no.. no..”

the caller lets out a cackle and speaks in a mocking tone, “aww… poor thing is so scared, heeseung why don’t you comfort your poor girl, after all you’ve done sooooo much for her.”

“fuck. off.” heeseung snarls out, hand not holding yours gripping the table and the strength behind it shocks you.

“no fun, either of you, jay’s always been a bit boring anyways, wanting the police involved in our fun so early. however i’m aware we are live.. so i guess we should speed things up. besides jake here i have someone important to jay here. say hello to jay.”

the sobbing girl is heard more clearly and the pit in your stomach is ever growing, the feeling of vomiting coming back tenfold, “why.. why are you doing this.. please i never did anything to you, please please please, let me go i won’t say anything. please j-”

a loud bang and a shriek is heard and jakes voice is screaming, “stop! stop just let her go, man. what is wrong with you?!”

some more shuffling and the caller is heard better, “what’s wrong with me? me..? you were the one who brought your dear friend’s ex out on a date.”

jay slams his hands on the table, leaning forward, “my EX? you were out with fucking yujin?”

more sobs from yujin, you suppose, comes through the phone, “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, i wanted to make you jealous. i wanted you back, that was it i’m sorry i’m so sorry.”

rubbing his jaw, jay paces around the room, shouting out a “fuck” and slamming his fist against the wall, “jay! this isn’t the time! this asshole WANTS us to act like this, you’re playing into his hands!” heeseung calls out, standing up quickly, “he WANTS you to get angry, he’s enjoying this.”

“yeah?” jay spins around and lets out a shaky laugh, “really? and how do you know that heeseung? you know this guy or something? i wouldn’t be surprised considering you’ve got some fucking secrets of your own now.” jay jabs at heeseung’s chest and he stumbles back in surprise.

you put your head in your hands and yell, “stop! just stop you two! a sadistic killer has jake and yujin and you’re fighting?! what the fuck. just what the fuck?!”

“yeahh.. you two, what the fuck..?” the voice giggles, “you should be more like y/n and focus on the two that’s with me. maybe you can make y/n’s job easier and help her with her choice.”

your whip your head up, tears streaming down your face, “what the hell do you mean help you, you sick fuck?!”

“that’s not very kind now baby… and i mean helping me choose who i kill for everyone tonight of course.”

oh. oh no. no no no no no. absolutely not, you would not choose that, there’s no way you could bring yourself to do that. you shakingly look at the board and whimper out a “no” which the caller barks out a laugh in return, “i’m afraid it’s non negotiable. if you don’t.. i choose at random then and the other person lives with the information that they were saved because of me! or… i just kill both.”

the two men in the room with you freeze at the information they’re hearing, heeseung slowly walks to you, pushes your mic away and crouches down to your level, putting his hands around your body to help the tremors going through your body, he rubs your back soothingly and jay’s jaw clenches as he angrily blows air out of his nose.

heeseung lowly whispers into your ear, “it’s okay y/n.. you.. you gotta do it.. you can do this.. make the choice.. it’s easy right..? you don’t know yujin.. jake needs to be saved y/nnie. jay will understand.. yujin cheated on him anyways.”

you’re not sure why heeseung is calmly telling you this information, you’re not sure why jay won’t look at you directly, you’re not sure why it has to be you that makes this choice, but as heeseung whispers more into your ear about how you can do it and he believes you’d make the right choice you start thinking that doesn’t matter and heeseung’s right. jake needs to be saved. jake is your friend. you don’t know yujin. yujin was a bad girlfriend to jay. you don’t question heeseung’s whispers, you don’t question heeseung at all.

“jake..” you quietly mutter out.

“what was that? i couldn’t hear you..?” the killer sings out and you almost throw up for what feels like the thirteenth time that night.

“jake..!” you speak up a little louder and heeseung squeezes your body comfortingly, “i choose to save jake.”

yujin screams in anguish and you flinch in guilt. “excellent choice, y/n. saving your friends.. how heroic.” the killer praises and you put your head in the crook of heeseung’s neck, wishing this nightmare would just end, he just rubs your back, but you miss the grin he sends jay’s way.

the phone is set down and you can hear yujin plead for her life with the killer, “i just did what you wanted! you said.. you said j- no no stop don’t come any closer i swear i swear no one will know. let me go please. please. i’m sorry,” she cries louder and starts pleading to you all, “jay please.. convince her to save me. jay please we can be happy again. no. no. no! NO! JA–”

the wet sounds of a knife meeting flesh is loud, yujin’s cries become louder and you breakingly sob into heeseung’s shoulder, he grips your body stronger and continues to rub your back. the squelch noise of multiple stabs into yujins poor body ring in your ears. her choked back sobs and cries as her throat fills with her blood causes your sobs to bellow out even louder, heeseung whispers that everything’ll be alright, his constant whispering so soothing you try to focus on them instead of yujin’s dying noises.

it feels like an eternity later but the noises quiet down and all that’s left is silence in the room and the killer’s heavy breathing. “thank you, for allowing me the opportunity to give you and your listeners a show.”

more silence fills the room and you can hear jay’s footsteps in the background pacing once more but you don’t dare look up, an irrational fear that the killer is in the room with you playing in your mind.

heeseung’s eyes darken as he looks down at your shaking body, the small whimpers you let out ignites a fire in his body that he’s only ever gotten killing others and he has stop the smile from forming on his face as he thinks how quick you were to just trust him. his eyes flicker towards jay as he turns off the equipment in the radio show, jay nods once everything is off and they’re no longer live.

the voice speaks up once more and your body stills, having believed the killer dropped the call, “you’re always so sweet y/nnie. so so so kind. the best player for our games. sweet dreams.”

you slowly lift your head in confusion but a small pinch to your neck makes your head drop back down, your eyes blearing together as the only thing you can make out is heeseung’s necklace and white shirt, the feeling of his steady breathing and whatever just stung you luring you into the dark and away from the sick and twisted situation.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Commission info!

I'm just going to give you a few pointers, I love your work. I entirely believe whatever you write I will love but can we please include these loosely. Go mad, change it about but something along these lines...

They have always looked out for each other from day one, she always checked in on him and made sure that he was okay and he did the same for her, they always had each other's back ever since the quarry. I don’t want it to be Daryl not being able to tell her that she loves him and the same for her for him if that makes sense. They both know that they love each other dearly and are fully aware of this but neither one of them likes the intimate stuff, the sex, the making out etc. They’ve shared sleeping arrangements before, cuddled, held hands a couple of times but they have never approached the subject as they were both scared about the thought of it or didn't feel the need to. But since arriving at Alexandria there’s been people flirting with one or the other, or making comments, or odd looks etc and it has been getting under their grill and realised that it really bothered them that they never actually made anything official either marriage or whatever but they can’t communicate about it because they’re both as awkward and as broken as each other and have this self belief that everything they touch just ends up in destruction. They end up on angsty terms and shut off from each other then something happens to either the OC or Daryl to the point of either almost losing them, something sparks between them and they decide that actually they do need to make it ‘official’ and shout it to the world. 

I hope that helps but either way let your creativeness flow my dear, do whatever you would like with it.

I know I’m going to love it <3

Fluffy-Dixon Commission

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Typical TWD violence & gore; allusions to smut

You loved Daryl. Daryl loved you. A sentiment that was never spoken but communicated nonetheless. You didn’t need words with him. It was almost as if you never did. The ability to read one another without speaking came naturally from even as far back as the quarry. Those days didn’t really seem like that long ago anymore, time bending and bleeding together as you struggled to just survive. 

The quarry, the Greene farm, the prison—a natural progression of something unnamed. It didn’t need a title. The two of you just fit. Stolen glances, smiles, and even holding hands while on watch. It just felt right. Given that the touches and gestures were reciprocated every single time without the slightest protest told you that it felt the same to Daryl. 

Eventually, you started sleeping in the same cell. There was nothing beyond holding one another, coaxing the stress from your bodies with simple touches that no amount of sex could ever achieve. No one questioned it, though no one really questioned any form of happiness anymore. It was too fleeting. 

“Today sucked.” You would whisper, nuzzling your cheek against the hollow of his throat. 

“S’over now.” He’d reply, fingertips dancing down your spine. 

It was an unplanned, nameless perfection. 

Carol had jokingly referred to you as an old married couple once, and while you didn’t get angry, it did raise several questions. You began to ponder things that had, until that moment, felt ordinary. You had never compared your relationship with Daryl to that of Glenn and Maggie or Rick and Lori. 

Such an innocent statement had been the birthplace of so many doubts. Should it be something that was made official? Should you talk to him about it? And then the prison fell, your combined grief straining whatever it was the two of you had. Though once you had been reunited with your family, things seemed to return to normal. 

Except the lingering thought that you should be doing more. 

“Don’t know how I feel ‘bout this place.” Daryl was perched on the chair just adjacent to the door of the house you, he, and Carol had been assigned, his legs outstretched for his crossed ankles to rest atop the railing. Whittling away at bolts, he didn’t bother to look up when a long time resident called out a hello. 

“It’s not so bad.” You smiled at your notebook and the run list you were creating. The archer grunted. He didn’t trust it. “It’s hard to get used to, I know, but Rick says—”

“Hey, Y/N.” 

Your gaze slid over to the steps, the one you had come to know as Spencer smiling at you from the walkway. “Oh, uh—hey.” The man had been watching you from the moment your group had arrived, his hungry gaze following you with a piercing intensity that made you a little more than uncomfortable. 

“So, the party is tonight.” He lifted a foot to the first step and you saw Daryl’s knife hand still from the corner of your eye. “I was hoping you would accompany me.” Your eyes blinked wide, dancing between the two men. 

“I—well I wasn’t planning on going.” You laid the pen and paper aside, placing your hands on your thighs. 

“Oh, come on, pretty lady. It’ll be fun.” 

Your eyes flitted over to watch Daryl’s hand tighten around the hilt of his knife. Was he just being protective? Was it something more? The questions you tried so valiantly to ignore rose again to the forefront of your mind. 

“M’a go talk to Rick.” The archer spouted suddenly, dropping his legs and standing. He was down the steps and on the walkway before you could manage to say a word. 

Spencer watched him leave, a visible tension draining from his form. Once Daryl was out of sight, Deanna’s son turned back to you with a smile that made your stomach turn. “So, about that party?”

You glanced over his shoulder to Rick’s front door. What would it hurt? Daryl wasn’t attending and making friends couldn’t be such a bad thing. If Spencer wanted more, you would simply set him straight. 

“Yeah, I guess so, but as friends, okay?”

The look he gave you filled you with instant regret. 

“Friends. Sure.” 

Oh boy. 

The gathering itself was a success, introducing you to some of the community’s residents while you gained a bit more knowledge about the history of Alexandria. It was Spencer’s relentless advances that had ultimately driven you to abandon the party early. You had acquiesced to one dance, yet that had been enough to send the wrong signals. 

“Daryl? Are you home?” You called, awkwardly removing the high heels from your aching feet. Of course they would give you the most uncomfortable shoes known to man. You’d definitely be sticking with your boots from that point forward, fancy dress or not. “Daryl?” Tired and more than socially drained, you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with your archer and let your stress melt away into the mattress while secure in the safety of his arms. 

It wasn’t meant to be. 

Daryl wasn’t there. It was unlikely he had left the walls. Unlikely but not impossible. So, you shuffled off to change out of the outfit you’d be given and into your familiar attire. By the time he strolled into the house, you had fallen asleep on the couch. 

“Hey.” You croaked, wiping the sleep from your eyes. Daryl glanced your way and offered a jerk of his chin in greeting. “Where’d you go?”

“S’it matter?” He huffed. It almost sounded bitter. 

“I guess not.” You warily watched him move around, the air growing thick with tension. “Just worried, that’s all.” He laughed ruefully, a sure sign that he was ill at ease. “Daryl, are you okay?”

“Dropped by the party earlier.” He cleared his throat. “Didn’t see no reason to stick around.”

Uh oh. 

“Oh.” Why did you feel guilty? Nothing had happened. “You hungry?” You asked, realizing the ridiculousness of the question when there were other obvious pressing matters that needed to be discussed. 

Daryl stopped stripping off his gear to spare you a sidelong glance. “Nah.” That wasn’t what he wanted to say, that much was clear, but he refrained. You felt your heart shift and twist uncomfortably. 

“Daryl, I think we should—”

“M’goin’ to bed.” And then he was gone, loud steps echoing from the basement stairs until they were muted thuds that were followed up by the loud slam of his door. You weren’t welcome in the room that night. 

Wiping angrily at the sudden tears on your cheeks, you cast your gaze to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, suddenly exhausted. In fact, the thought of trudging up to the extra bed was a feat you weren’t sure you could accomplish. Lowering onto the couch, you sniffled and closed your damp eyes. 

Sleep wouldn’t find you that night. 

“We should—” The words were cut off by a mighty yawn, drawing Daryl’s unwelcome attention. His expression alone spoke volumes. 

“S’the matter with you?”

As if he had to ask. He knew you better than anyone, like the back of his hand. You hadn’t rested, fitfully tossing and turning on the couch the previous night, missing the warmth of his arms and the sounds of his breathing. 

Knowing you couldn’t start a discussion that might lead to foolish mistakes, you heaved a sigh. “I’m fine.” Keeping your eyes downcast, you pushed open the passenger door and climbed out, heading toward the main entrance of the mall. A succession of slamming car doors followed. 

“Y’ain’t fine.” Daryl fell into step with you, pulling his crossbow from his back. His eyes, squinting against the sun, remained glued forward. 

Neither are you, you wanted to say. Still, you pressed onward. “Let’s just get this done and go home.” You chose instead, picking up the pace to leave him behind. Arguing with him wasn’t new by any means, but this—tension, it was new. It was different. It felt much like the stress that passed between the two of you after the prison. The questions, the doubts. 

“Y/N!”

You shook your head when you heard him call. You couldn’t deal with that confrontation at that moment. There were supplies to find, there were walkers to avoid and—

You didn’t even realize how close the teeth had come to your shoulder until you felt the sting of Daryl’s bolt slide across the back of your neck to pierce the young woman’s skull. Hand slapping over the cut the projectile had left behind, you spun to watch the body topple sideways, your eyes wide. 

“The hell were you doin’?!” 

Your brain had yet to catch up, your lips moving with mere silence the only result. When Daryl reached you, his weapon clattered to the ground, leaving the others to watch your backs.

“I—”

“Ya just stood there! Why didn’t—goddamnit, Y/N!” 

Your hand jerked away from your neck as you were yanked against his chest, face squished until you managed to maneuver your head just enough to breathe. 

“I’m sorry—I—”

Daryl sniffed above you, roughly letting you go and stepping away. He had turned away from everyone, arm moving to appear as if he might have been wiping at his eyes. “S’get this done.” He snapped, jerking his arm in a vague motion to beckon you. “You’re stayin’ with me, y’hear?” 

You nodded, though he couldn’t see, and picked up his bow for him. After he had taken it, he stomped toward the entrance, barking at you to keep up. 

How could you have been so careless? You’d allowed your thoughts and worries to cloud your judgment, blind you to danger. If Daryl hadn’t been there, you’d have been dead. Now things were worse between the two of you. He stalked ahead, his shoulders tense and frame trembling. Did you dare try and smooth things over?

“Got somethin’ here.” He suddenly spouted, rocking back and forth with the toe of his boot pressing into a creaking floorboard. He glanced at you, eyes narrowed in a silent request to watch his back. You jerked your chin in a nod. Crossbow placed next to him on the floor, he crouched and used his knife to pry up the board and reveal a bag beneath it. “Bingo.”

“What’s in it?” You inquired, looking to him for a reply and then back to the door. 

“Meds. Some granola bars and Spam.” He shoved the sack into his satchel. 

“Trip was worth it then.” You were smiling when you turned to him, your mouth turning down when you were assaulted by the expression he donned. He was stricken. 

“Worth it.” He looked down as he stood, licking his bottom lip before chewing it in earnest. “Nah, Y/N. It weren’t worth it.” Squinting, he shook his head and brushed by you. “We’re done here.”

Sighing heavily, you rubbed the towel over your damp hair. The day’s grime had been washed away, swirling down the drain to keep your tears company. Daryl hadn’t spoken a word to you the rest of the run, not on the drive back, and he had disappeared the moment the car had been parked. 

Pulling your sleep shorts up to rest on your hips, you reached for your camisole when there was a soft knock on your door. You were once again in the upstairs room, giving Daryl his space while suffocating in your own. 

“Yeah?” You pulled the garment over your head and stepped out of the bathroom, narrowing your eyes at the entryway. 

“S’uh—” Daryl cleared his throat, the sound muted by the wooden barrier between you. “S’me.”

Your heart fluttered before it sank. Another argument wasn’t something you were confident you could handle, but you couldn’t just turn him away. Padding across the cold floor on your bare feet, you turned the knob and opened the door enough to lean against it. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He was already rubbing the back of his neck and shifting from foot to booted foot. He was anxious. “Can we, uh—can we talk?” He requested without so much as a glance at you.

Not tonight. I’m too tired. “Of course.” You ignored every possible excuse to avoid the conversation. He merely grunted and squeezed by you with care not to touch. 

And that hurt. 

“What’s up?” You asked with feigned nonchalance, sitting down on your bed. Daryl paid extra attention to the furniture and the things you had taken with you from the basement room. 

“‘Bout today—”

And there it was. “I said I was sorry, Daryl. I was distracted.” You felt your eyes burn, wishing you could say so much more. Tell him you missed him, that you loved him. “It won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, I know.” His tone was solemn and it dawned on you that he didn’t seem angry at all. He turned toward you, taking a moment to chew on the side of his thumb. You hated when he did that. You hated anything that caused him discomfort, especially the things he did to himself. “S’my fault, ain’t it?”

You blinked, saucer-sized eyes following his hand as he lowered it. “Your fault?” 

“Just—” You tracked him as he began to pace. “Just saw ya with that prick at the party an’ I—” He stopped, fists clenching before he shook them out and continued wearing a trench into the floor. “I thought—weren’t we—nah. I shouldn’a come up here.” 

The confusion muddling your brain had yet to wear off before you were on your feet and stepping into his path to effectively block the door. “Slow down, Daryl.” His mouth opened but snapped shut with a click of his teeth. “Say what you mean.” You pleaded in the calmest tone you could manage while numerous sentiments twisted in the pit of your stomach, tendriling out to wrap around your heart like a vice. 

“Dunno what I mean.” The defeat on his face, the utter bemusement in his eyes tore you to pieces. It also refueled every burning question that had befuddled your mind into nearly getting yourself killed. 

“Daryl.” For some reason beyond your comprehension, you hesitated with your open palms just in front of his chest. C’mon, idiot. This is Daryl and he— Your train of thought nearly derailed, maintaining just enough contact with the foundation to urge you onward. “Daryl, if I said that I loved you, what would you say?” Your hands finally made contact.

He reeled back a fraction of an inch, his wide eyes mimicking yours from only moments ago. “I, uh—”

“I’ve always thought that you loved me.” You dared, your hands sliding over to settle on his ribs. “I know we’ve never really—decided that we were—”

“Sure, we did.” He cleared his throat, hand traveling toward his mouth as he inhaled. You caught his wrist before he could begin to gnaw on already abused skin. “Mean, I thought we—”

You smiled and released your grasp, content to allow his hand to rest on your waist instead. “I love you.” And you held your breath. Blue orbs danced and sparkled, scrutinizing you and your declaration. 

“Y’sure?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Very.” 

Your first kiss was everything you had expected and all you could have hoped for: sloppy, inexperienced, yet so passionate and honest. Daryl’s teeth clicked into yours, uncomfortable but still inspiring a giggle that had him smiling against your mouth. A real smile. A unicorn in a world that had lost its magic. 

And it stole your breath, precious oxygen that you weren’t sure you found again until you settled on the bed beside him, sweat-soaked, sated, and more in love than you ever thought was possible. 

He never said the words but you had all the answer you needed. 

You were his. 

He was yours. 

And even if he turned beet red each and every time, you’d shout it from the rooftops. 

[evilvvithin]

FOR THE COLLECTION

pairing: asa emory x f!reader warnings: stalking, violence, description of blood and gore, Asa is cute few times that's a warning in it's own, smut but faintly words: 4,421 summary: When he first saw you, Asa thought you'd make a nice piece for collection, but not exactly in the way as other unfortunate victims - you'd be his perfect final piece.

notes: One shot fic but could be turned into multiple chapters later. I made multiple time jumps in this without specifically describing it but i like the story telling it creates. I really just wanted some Asa so started writing and writing and.. :) AO3 link || masterlist (pls don't read my old fics i am not proud of them)

It was finally the day - the day when a huge art gallery opens in your city. You were eager to go as you loved art and everything around it, not even caring all your friend turned you down on the invite at the last second. Despite them all coming up with various reasons as to why they can't make it, you knew they just didn't want to come - it was boring to them. They didn't appreciate the art. It wasn't disappointing though, you expected to go alone, again.

Losing yourself in the paitings for what seemed like hours, inspecting every single brush stroke and techniques, you were so lost in yourself and the art you didn't notice a man constantly following behind you. You've noticed him in the gallery before, but nothing really stood out about him - he looked very ordinary, but well groomed and kept overall, dressed in a simple black suit. 

He loved the way you stood in front of each display for long, making sure you saw every detail in it. The perfect imperfections. The perfections. You looked so peaceful standing there alone - the world around you disappeared. You tend to do it a lot, but he already knew that as it wasn't the first time he saw you at grand opening like this one.

“Fascinating, isn't it?” He nonchalantly said right behind your ear. 

You jumped, heart raced a little, looking at the man observing the painting now standing right behind you. 

“How they created such masterpieces without all the modern technology. Masterpieces that live forever. They were geniuses. All the years and no one could beat them to it.”

You smiled at the man, nodding. “I agree. I just can't get enough of it despite seeing the art so many times. It feels different every time you look at it.” 

“This one especially is my personal favorite.”

“Oh, same!”

The two of you looked at each other, excitement pouring out of you. You were here alone, mesmerized by the art - so was he. He was quite attractive now that you focused on it - casually looking but clean. Simple, attractive man with smooth yet sharp facial features. 

His phone beeped and after checking it quickly, he sighed annoyingly. “Have to go.. but would love to chat with you about art more.” 

You felt the heat running to your cheeks. His straight forwardness took you by surprise. 

“I-me too. Yes.” You mumbled out hoping he doesn't notice your awkwardness and reddish cheeks.

He himself felt a little awkward despite presenting himself so confidently - his way of getting girls usually didn't include talking to them trying to impress them or invite them out. 

“Can I have your number, then?” He smiled and handed you his phone in which you typed it. 

“People usually exchange socials and stuff,” you said and returned his smile.

“Oh, yeah. I myself find phone numbers more.. intimate. People don't hand these out publicly like their socials.” He let out a chuckle as he saved the number you gave him. The chemistry between you two was almost visible in the air. “See you later.”

“See you!”

What. An. Interaction.

Watching him disappear around the corner your heart pounded as if you just realized what happened, but you were definitely going to give it a shot and meet him. If he actually called you later as he said that was it. While you hoped he would actually invite you out, you couldn't shake the feeling it was just another fail. Maybe you were too awkward and he was going to rethink his choices later or it was one of those guys just collecting numbers anywhere they go. 

Oh, you were so wrong.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to ignore all that happened and focused on the art again. 

Later that day just when you got out of the shower and were ready to sleep, your phone vibrated on the nightstand. Your eyes widened in excitement as you saw an unknown number on the screen - must've been him. It was a text message, short and simple, inviting you for dinner at a nearby restaurant, with a wish of good night to you at the end. 

Maybe this could work out. Maybe good things were finally happening to you. 

Looking forward to it. Good night - you replied and giggled. 

The date went so good you refused to believe that it was actually real. 

He brought you flowers, somehow knowing exactly which ones you liked and what color. The food was delicious, the atmosphere magical, the tension between you only growing and more exciting. 

Not only the first date, all the other dates you two had were unbelievably good and enjoyable. Asa Emory, as he introduced himself, was smart and talkative once you get to know each other more. He felt comfortable with you and enjoyed his time, making him almost unable to stop talking. He was a professor - his way of talking sold it out before he even told you. He knew how to capture attention and what to say at all times. You could talk about anything for days and never get tired or run out of topics. It felt like match made in heaven.

You learned he was an entomologist later, right before you two started to date officially. You had an idea he had something to do with bugs when you saw his van, at which he had “Deratization” logo. Sometimes when he had time he went around and cleaned people’s houses from the bugs he liked so much. He restrained from telling you, scared you'd back away and feel disgusted, but the more he got to know you the more he knew you weren't so easily squeamish. Your love of horror and terrifying stuff in general might've been weird and off putting to many, but he loved that. You had that morbid curiosity in you, it just needed to grow to its full potential like when a cocoon turns into a butterfly. Though you weren't fond of bugs, you didn't completely despise them either. He thought maybe over time he could get you into the beauty and fascinating world of those little things. 

You also loved his dogs, German shepherds; he had a great taste in everything. Anyone loving animals as much as he did was a good person in and out. Asa used to be so childish around his dogs but at the same getting little annoyed when you spotted him.

“I like moths,” you told him once at a night ride through the city and he laughed for so long. 

Everyone loved butterflies if anything, but moths? Not so common. 

Oh, you were perfect.

Moths, the creatures of the dark and death, yet so fragile and beautiful. 

He was intrigued by you whole. In his eyes deep down you were just twisted as him, but unlike him you didn't let your creativity go free - yet. 

Despite all the tension and strong chemistry between you two since the very beginning, you didn't get physical till later on into dating. It meant way more to both of you, more intimate. Almost like you wanted to just fully enjoy the growing lust, enjoy every single bit of the act itself later. You've never felt so naked infront of anyone before like before Asa. It was so sensual, wild, but also incredibly sweet and romantic. He made you feel like you would crumble into pieces, your whole body shaking as he took care of you - in and out. He felt like exploding every time you touched him, the way you wanted him and lusted for his touch like no one ever did. The feeling that you needed him. 

You visited him at the college often, sneaking into his office room having fun often. Both his room and his house were full of colorful exotic insects, framed carefully behind a thick glass. It made you feel uneasy at first, especially all the giant spiders, which he found funny, but you got used to it pretty quick. They were quite fascinating after all, you had to admit. 

One day you decided to surprise him at his house. Knowing he was teaching till the evening, you timed it so you'd arrive at his place shortly before he would. Buying some snacks and wine on your way, it was unusually cold that evening especially as it was getting darker. You just hoped he wouldn't be late. 

Of course he was. 

You regretted not asking about his work that day even though it would ruin the surprise. With your ice cold hands turning white and purple ish, you checked the time again. Either you go home or use his spare key he told you about. Despite you being together and treating each other's houses as your own, it didn't feel quite right to you to just enter without him knowing. The dogs knew you already of course, not barking or growling, just tipping their little beans on the floor behind the door eager to greet you, their tails aggressively wagging. You waited a little longer anyway, but not seeing any sign of him and your legs starting to shake from the cold, you reached to the plant pot and dug up the key. 

A weird smell immediately filled your nose upon entering, making you gag and cover your face. A mixture of chlorine and alcohol that sat in the house as no windows were opened the whole day. You never smelled anything like that there and while thinking it was weird, you simply brushed it off. It must've been his etymology thing - sometimes he prepped his own display or cut them open to study them. After giving attention to the puppies, you prepared the snacks and wine on the table in his living room, still unable to get rid of the chlorine smell despite opening the windows for a while and decided to investigate. The density of it was stronger upstairs and near the basement. 

When will you be home?

You texted him and immediately received a response.

Work's busy today, it might take a while. Why?

I have a surprise for you.

I'll come as soon as I can. 

Asa squinted his eyes at the screen thinking about what surprise you had in mind. It didn't take him long to realize the reason you asked when he was about to be home was because you were waiting for him there - it was the most logical reason in his head.

“Fuck.” He let out through gritted teeth, jaws clenching together.

You just had to choose this exact day to come over. This exact day when he was working on his collection. He planned to show you his little hobby eventually, with your consent or without it - didn't matter. He was nearly certain you'd do it all willingly and be on his side, help him create the collection. He didn't even plan on actually falling for you when he saw you for the first time, but now that he wanted you to be part of his collection? Part of his journey? His life? 

Sitting in his van all in black with a custom balaclava mask on, a muffled screaming echoed from the back as he punched the wheel. Screams of a young woman stuck inside a little box - a second piece for his collection that week. The first box was already in his house, hidden in the basement with thickened walls in case anything went wrong. Asa did some work on the unfortunate man earlier that day after telling you he's at work. The guy made some mess and he had to clean it up, now wondering if the smell inside the house dissolved already. He turned his head to the back of the car and hissed loudly, making the muffled screams stop. 

Tonight was going to end only in two ways. He cursed silently and started the engine. 

When he arrived at the house and tires screeching cut the silence in the neighborhood, he saw a very faint warm light coming through the windows. Taking his mask off and running his hand over his eyes in an attempt to get rid of the black coloring, he rushed inside the house not thinking twice. The black around his eyes now smeared but still there and squeezing the mask in his fist, he looked like a maniac. Inside his house was quiet, nearly uncomfortably quiet. The table in the living room decorated with wine glasses, bowls of snacks and candles, giving the entire room the faded warm light he saw from outside. 

But where were you?

Your shoes were left right next to the door so you must've been still inside. The dogs didn't rush to the door to greet him - yes, they adored you, sometimes he was jealous. Asa stood still for a few minutes, carefully listening to any noise you or the dogs could make. His patience shortly after rewarded, he heard some faint rustling down below his feet as if a heavy object was being pushed around.

The box.

Rushing down to the basement stairs through the doors you left open before, he found you there exactly as he thought he would - trying to move the box around to open it. 

“Oh, you're here.. Do you smell it?” You said and inhaled the chlorine air again coming strong from the box. 

“I had to clean some mess in the morning. Thought it'd be gone by now,” Asa replied and laughed nervously. “Rather unfortunate the smell is still present. Can't just leave my windows opened while I'm gone.”

“It's horrible, I couldn't even get it out by opening the damn windows - arhh it's so heavy!” You finally let go of the box and looked up on him. “Oh wha- what's all that on your face?” 

He smeared his eyes again with his hands making them similarly black. You couldn't hold your laughter when you imagined it's one of those non washable body make-up and he would have to go to work with the black around his eyes. He laughed too, it must've looked comical without the mask on. 

“What's that?” You pointed at the balaclava in his hand.

“Ah -  nothing. Just a mask. Why don't we go upstairs and have a great night? As you planned?”

While that was your initial idea and the reason you came here, now that you discovered the smelly box you were dying to see what's the source of the awful stink. And why did he have a damn mask on top of all that?

“Yeah we'll go,” you nodded. “After I check the box.”

Reaching down towards the lock his hand flew to your arm to stop you, pulling you harshly backwards. He stood between you and the box now, walking towards you making you back off till your back was pressed against the wall. You let out a moan as the air got pushed out of your lungs. 

“Or how about we have a great time right now right here?” Asa's voice all low and whispery. 

“How about you put that mask on?” You smirked, not fighting him at all.

He grinned - of course you'd ask something like that, you fucked up little thing.

You felt how wet you were getting just from the way he held you locked in one place, his weight pressed against your hips. He placed his knee between your legs and brushed against your core, making you whine and already almost beg for more. Now with the mask on and the black paint covering any skin that'd be visible otherwise, he looked quite sinister - at the same time so hot. You didn't care about the chlorine smell anymore, you didn't care about the wine or snacks, you didn't care why even he was dressed like that with a balaclava. 

There was nothing else except you and him at that moment.

The whole set up and weirdness of the entire evening made the act between you two only stronger - you've never felt so eager to feel him before, not even the first time. To fill you up. There was something fishy about it all, but with each thrust of his - hitting your pelvic - the thoughts were disappearing; soon your mind just blank and your eyes unable to focus on anything. A chill running down your spine feeling his hot breath at your neck, his hands gripping you harder and harder with each sound you moaned out. He felt you slipping under him, his own legs getting shakey as he was close to finishing while you moaned yout his name.

God, you drove him crazy. 

He was so happy when you just passed out on the couch - time to finish his business silently. Couple glasses of wine should make sure you sleep deep. It was even colder outside now; his sweaty skin and clothes from before only made it worse. The second he opened the back of his van, the box shaked as the woman inside kicked around helplessly; yet she was silent other than that. A dose of narcotics made her body go fully limp. Asa chuckled to himself - her vocal cords were probably dead by this point. No one could hear her outside the van, as long as the cloth was deep down her throat; and he made sure it was. Yet, some people still tried to scream not realizing it's to no effect. He found it amusing, fascinating even. The lengths the human beings go when faced with pure survival. He wanted his subjects to obey, but not give up. 

Shuffling the box inside the house, he found you in the same position as he left you with your shallow, relaxed breathing. Tucking it right next to the other box in the basement, he locked the doors carefully, saving the key in his pocket. Tonight ended up differently than he planned at first, but it still met one of the scenarios he expected - you just not finding out anything.

You never asked him about that night, about the face paint, the mask, the boxes. The next day when you woke up they were all gone together with the smell. Asa himself never mentioned anything himself. Obviously. In his head, it didn't matter if you asked or not because eventually you'd knew about it all. When? Didn't really matter. He felt you were already ready nevertheless, but he was still waiting for the right moment. 

Days, weeks, months went by. 

When there was a chance, you two spent all your time visiting galleries or at his place. Sometimes you wondered if he gave up his hobbies except teaching since he had so much free time for you - not like you minded, you enjoyed every single minute of it. During that time, numerous TV news stations reported a serial killer on the loose as some missing people were found dead, again. He always laughed and said you were safe with him, nothing would ever happen to you when he's with you so why pay attention to the news? You didn't pay much attention to it at that time when it came on the news.

Not until the police knocked on your own apartment asking about Asa. 

“He was with me, yes. All the time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Excuse me?”

“It is known you two are in a relationship, ma'am. Don't cover for him.”

“I am not covering up for anyone. I'm telling you he was with me at that time. We were at the grand opening.”

“And what about here?”

“That was our date at the restaurant.”

“Alright.”

“What's going on? Why are you asking all these questions?”

“We can't share much details while the investigation is still going on.”

“Is it connected to the murders?”

“We can't -”

“So it is. You think Asa did it?!”

“Well, he is one of many suspects in this case. Anyway, that'll be all. Thank you for your time ma'am.”

Your mind circling back to that one night where you discovered the box, the chlorine smell. Asa with his mask dressed all in black, black paint around his eyes. The random times he had so much work and then almost none. The latex gloves you found in the trash later but didn't think twice about them. Grabbing the phone you were about to text him, but thought it'd be safer to just meet him face to face. The police could've been monitoring phone activity of both of you. You didn't even bat an eye at all the weird connections and the police coming to you - all you needed was to talk to Asa first.

Standing in front of his front doors, it took a while before he pulled up with his van. He gave you a confused look at why you were outside in the cold. Without a single word you just got in, taking the passenger seat and motioning to him to drive - and so he did. You didn't care where you were going. After a while you sighed and asked: “Did police contact you?”

He didn't seem surprised or anything. “No, why?” He replied casually as if you talked about the weather.

“They came to my apartment a few hours ago. Asking about you. Asking about where you've been on specific days and times.”

He was silent, focusing on driving. 

“Did you do something?” 

He clicked his tongue at the question as if he was annoyed. So that was it - the time he shares everything with you.

“They said you are one of possible suspects for the disappearances and murders,” you continued, gaze fixated on his unmoved side profile. 

He turned the wheel and stopped in front of a huge abandoned warehouse, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Loud barking started, echoing sharply through the silence of the night. The entire place was like a ruin, the building itself half destroyed. The barking got louder and louder and you saw two german shepherds running towards you, recognizing them immediately. 

“What are they doing here?” You asked and got out of the car to greet them. 

“I bring them with me when I'm working.”

You paused for a moment, your fingers buried within the dog’s fur. “Working?”

That uneasy feeling creeped up on you, realizing you might not know Asa as much as you thought you did. 

“Please-”

“Wanna see my collection?” Asa said suddenly and reached his hand out, which you took without hesitation. 

“I'm confused, you know.” You sighed and followed him, his dogs running around causally familiar with everything. It was their second home.

Despite everything, you trusted Asa. You loved him and always stood by his side and you didn't plan on changing that. Approaching a rusty metal door, you saw like 6 locks hanging at the frame - what could possibly be inside that it needed to be so safe? The dogs squeezed in and ran into the distance, disappearing down the hallway; they were certainly familiar with everything; so was Asa. Following the dog's path, the familiar chlorine smell hit your nose. It wasn't strong at first, but the deeper into the building you got, the stronger it smelled. 

“Is that blood?” You looked down on the floor. 

He remained silent, holding your hand tighter. The uneasy feeling shot through you again like a wave; putting the pieces of the puzzle together you started to think his hobby wasn't only etymology and art. Entering a well lit room, you felt like you walked into an ongoing mortuary. The room looked like a morgue, even having the freezer boxes in the wall. A bloody mess of what seemed like a woman before was spread across the silver table in the middle of the room. Your stomach didn't twist, nor did you jump. You just stood there with an emotionless face, observing. The longer you looked at the mashed redness the more you doubted it was actually a woman. 

Asa on the other hand observed you, his whole body tense and ready if you tried to do anything stupid. He was pleasantly surprised seeing you not panic or scream at the scene in front of you. Leading you to the shelves on the side, you were met with a bunch of live tarantulas inside glass jars. You shivered a little seeing the 8-legged freaks crawl inside and Asa couldn't help himself but laugh. 

“That's what gets you?” He kept laughing. 

Next to the spiders were more jars but filled with various body parts in a liquid. From eyes, tongues to fingers - you name it. Your heartbeat raised once your sight landed on a jar with a woman's head inside, more likely belonging to the bloody mess you've seen just a few seconds ago on the table.

Asa still waited, still doubted you were so nonchalant about everything - maybe you were only playing it. “So?” He whispered, not letting his eyes off you. 

You didn't say a word - you were speechless, as if in a tranz. Letting him lead you further into the warehouse, you were surprised how well maintained it actually was on the inside. He clearly spent a lot of time here. Finally you entered a big hall, followed by the dogs wagging their tails happily. The entire room had a blue tint, every bit of it filled with giant fish tanks full of - something.

“The Collection.” Asa said proudly and his hand flew across the tanks showcasing his artwork.

You had to admit - there was beauty in the morbidity. The creativity and sense of detail that went into every single corpse was phenomenal. There you were once again - losing yourself in art, forgetting the world around you existed, just like the day Asa laid his eyes on you. Torsos sewed together with 4 pairs of arms or more. Two headed legs. Half skinned people with their ribs decorated. You went from one tank to another. Some of the faces - if they had one - you even recognized from the news. 

“Beautiful,” you whispered, making him smile in delight.

He knew you were the one. Since the beginning.

Asa was never really touchy or cuddle type, but now he hugged you tightly and held you for so long, not wanting to let go. You were his masterpiece, the final piece to the collection that didn't need to be any modified to be perfect - just as you were. His collection was far from being finished though, but with you by his side? 

He felt like the collection was already whole.

[mushies-stories]

Not leaving this one behind

chapter one

Slasher!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X F!Reader

summary: Simon moved to America after retiring and had taken up serial killing and stuff and you caught his eye. Simons been realizing some things about himself and he's sure your just what he needs.

warning: murder, gore, suggestive, no smut yet, kidnapping

word count: 3142

Happy Halloween

The sun was finally setting and you all seem to have found ways to entertain yourselves. After a long day of walking around and seeing the nature around you and taking some pictures of rivers and waterfalls and whatever else caught your eye, you were about ready to rest the second you stepped back into the camp.

You chose to bring a few books and picked your favorite out of the pile. You settled for being inside the camper while the others set up tents and partnered up. You figured it would end up this way, not like you minded, reading or finding something creative to do was enough enjoyment and you were just happy to get out of the house for a while. So cozied up on the bed with a thick blanket and your book was how you chose to spend your time. 

About two hours had gone by of no one coming into the camper for some reason or another and you were starting to get a little worried, it was getting late and you even heard a sound from outside. You mark your page and place your book on the bed and to the door. You slip your boots on before exiting the RV. 

You shivered as you stepped into the night air. Looking around there wasn't a sight of anyone and the fire was just about out. You shuffle over to the firepit and gently place a few logs in. pulling out your phone you check for any messages but there's nothing, and you have no signal. 

Something felt wrong. 

You take a deep breath and choose to go down the right bath path. There's only two ways out so it was likely someone had to be down either of them. 

Using your phone as a light you follow the windy path and look for any sign of somewhere your friends could have gone down. “Jess? Molly, anyone out there?” you try to be loud but it was starting to get more cold and creepy the farther you got and you were starting to get really scared. “C’mon guys it's getting late.” you try again, a bit louder this time. 

A noise to your left startles you. 

“Y/N?” a muffled voice says your name. 

You head in the direction of the voice. “Andrew, Is that you?”

“Y/N, dont-” Andrew starts to say.

“Don’t? Are you-”

“RUN!” His voice is raspy and breathless.

You stop in your tracks and freeze. There was no more sound from Andrew, it was silent again. You didn't want to over react, what if this was just a prank? You were always the more gullible one in the group, you were teased more often than not. “Are you messing with me andrew? You ask and take a few cautious steps forward. You don't make it far however, just at the edge of your phone's light you could see Andrew. He was laying on his stomach, eyes wide and looking right at you. He was covered in blood, it looked like it was coming from his back the most. You took a step closer, your own breathing becoming uneven. He was dead, you knew it. 

What you hadn’t noticed was someone else in the dark with you, circling you and getting closer without you even noticing. Simon stopped you right when you turned to flee. You ran right into his chest with a soft thud. You stumbled back a little and looked up at the man in horror and recognition. Now in a different mask that covered almost all of his face with a horrifying skull on it. 

You remembered him. How sweet he thought.

“You… I don't understand.” you take a step back and then another. He follows your movements and steps forward, but with much bigger strides than your own. You turn and start sprinting and to your utter surprise were not caught yet. You figured someone his size would snatch you up in a second but you had to try anyway, right? But he hasn’t, you didn't even hear him running behind you. You chanced a glance back and saw nothing nor did you hear anything. Really weird you thought. 

It took awhile but you managed to find the RV again after getting lost not taking the same way back. Slowly and quietly you snuck around it to the door. It was still closed with the lights still on and the fire was once again dimming. You didn't waste your time on it now, instead you slowly crept onto the RV. It didn't look like anyone had been in there. Everything seemed as it was before.

“HELP” 

You make for the door but before you can reach it Jessica comes flying in. 

“Jess, oh god what happened?” you rush to help and lock the door behind her before helping her to the little bench and table. 

“Some masked freak, he,” he sucked in a breath and clutched at her side. Looking down you can see her clothes were stained with blood. “He fuckin stabbed us.” she finished. 

You shake your head in disbelief, this can't be happening. “You're hurt right? Maybe we should take a look at that before we do anything.” you say, trying to think rationally and stay as calm as you could. 

“Fucking bastared, Andrew better be fine.” Jessica curses. 

You look at her but can’t bring yourself to say it. She noticed something in your features and knew something was wrong however. 

“No… he’s fine isn't he?” she asks, wanting anything but to hear the truth that was written all over your face. You wanted to lie but you knew it would do no good too. You slowly shake your head and avert your eyes, unable to bear the sight of your friends' lives falling apart all at once. “Damnit! What the fuck is going on, who is that guy?” she's shaking and more blood is soaking her clothes. 

“Okay, let's get this looked at.” you instruct her to move her arms, not wanting to waste any more time.

A bang on the side of the RV startles the both of you. 

“What the fuck?” Jessica shouts in a whisper.

“Sshh.” you shush her quietly. 

Another bang near the back. 

“He’s fucking with us.” Jess whispers, you shush her again. 

You sit and listen but there's nothing. After another moment you hear someone try and open the door but the lock stops them. You let out a sigh of relief too soon because the sound of the door being unlocked makes your heart almost stop right there. The keys were in the RV when you left, so that means he managed to get here before you did and swipe them. You both stay still as the massive masked man fills up the space of the entrance. 

“Fuck, i cant die Y/N im sorry!” Jessica yells before pushing you up and straight back into the killer. She turned  and ran for the back of the RV and behind the bed where there was a small window just big and long enough for someone to squeeze out of. 

You stumbled right into his arms and the hold he has on you gives you no wiggle room to get away. You look up at him with horror in your eyes as tears begin to form at the corners. “Please don't.” Were the only words you could manage to rush out. You were in disbelief, you were in the arms of a killer and your best friend just threw right at him. The man doesn’t say anything. Instead he crouches enough to lift you up by the legs and fling you over his shoulder, causing you to let out a very audible squeak. 

You were tossed onto the bed next to your friend who was still struggling with the window, only getting it about halfway open before she was being dragged from right beside you with a scream. She reached out for you but it was too late, she was already hitting the floor before you could get there. You almost go after her, but then the image of her pushing you into harm's way plays and you freeze. You watch as he drags her away and lifts her with a hand on her neck. The skull mask makes the whole scene look even more terrifying to witness as he pulls a knife from his vest out and brings it to her face. She tries to scream and reach out to you but you can't seem to make yourself move. 

When you looked up to the masked man again he was looking back at you, watching your reaction. 

“Pl-ease He-” Jessica tried to say but the grip on her neck was tightened. 

In the blink of an eye the man had plunged the knife right into the side of Jessica's head. You can't hold back the screech you make when it happens, or your reaction to crawl as far back onto the bed as possible. You shook and watched as he tossed her body out the door before turning to face you. He took up so much space in the RV even with being across the thing.

Simon can't help but think about how cute you looked. Dirt from the woods and your friend's blood all over your sweater, shaking like a leaf. You were perfect and everything he could have asked for. He wanted you, the thought taking up a now permanent spot in his mind. He needed to bring you home, no more leaving what he wanted behind. 

Slowly he took those long strides to where you sat still in fear. His eyes were trained on yours the whole time until he was towering over you as you cowered back, as far away from him as you could be. “Please dont… dont hurt me.” you plead, tears now staining your cheeks. This was it, it was all too much and you couldn't run anymore. The killer reaches for your ankle and pulls you back down the bed towards himself. He yanks your boots off and now what was your once white socks are now covered in bright red. 

Simon can't help the way his cock switches at the sight of your big glossy eyes staring up at him in horror. He noticed how you pulled at your skirt to make sure you stayed covered after he dragged you. Your cardigan was falling off your shoulders, you were too scared to move to even fix the garment. Simon reached down and wrapped his large gloved hand around your throat. You flinched and squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for him to start choking you. Once again the monster of a man surprised you and no harm ever came. Instead he seemed content to just rest his hand there enough to move you a little better just so he could see your face. You slowly blinked your eyes open and shuddered a little when your eyes met his. They didn't look like the eyes of a psychopathic killer, they looked calm and almost… warm. You shake the thought out of your head. No, he was a killer, nothing warm about that. 

Something in Simon told him he needed this, needed to be close to you, to touch you. His cock was getting hard just looking at your adorably frightened face. Slowly his hand starts to slide to your chest, dirting the exposed flesh of your collar bone. You stiffen even more as his hand makes it to your breasts, staining the light fabric of your shirt. He smirks at how much you're shaking, so scared but letting him touch you like this. If he keeps going he doesn't know if he’ll be able to leave you, he's tired of leaving what he wants behind.

Your breathing was getting even more unsteady, you were starting to panic. 

In a solid and precise motion Simon had picked you up, taken your spot on the bed and placed you straddling on his lap with your face buried in his chest. One arm held you close by wrapping around your lower back and the other rubbed soothingly at your upper back. You were effectively trapped against him. 

You stay as still as possible, even though with how much you were shaking made it actually impossible. Why was he holding you like he was comforting you? Was this some kind of trick so when he did kill you it was more fun? 

“Not gonna hurt ya.” The masked man tells you. His voice is deep and a little raspy with an accent you weren't expecting”

You peaked up at him with a little curiosity. “Why… why not? I mean... My friends.” you try and say but finding the words is becoming difficult. 

Simon looked down at you, his eyes void of emotion. “There was no reason for their lives to be spared. Why, ya feelin left out love? Wanna join those friends of yers?” he asks, a hint of teasing in his tone. 

You shake your head as more tears slip down your cheeks. “No, please, I don't want to die.” you tell him with a soft sob. You grip onto the front of his vest.

Simon chuckles, It's unnerving and sends a chill up your spine. “Didn’t think so. No, I think I gotta take ya with me.” 

Your eyes widen even more. “What…” Your voice is hardly a whisper. 

You feel his hand run up the back of your neck and his fingers tangled in the hair at the base, forcing you to stay in place with a firm grip. “I keep havin ta leave sweet little things like ya behind. Think the universe was giving me a sign when ya stepped off that camper.” He says, not making any sense to you at all. 

“I don't understand, why take me? I wouldn't be of any use, right?” You squeak out.

“Oh but ya would be.” He confirms. His other hand slipped under your ass and gave it a gentle squeeze. Just enough to have you letting out a shaky breath. “Be good and no escaping or trying to kill me and you’ll even be treated very well.” to add a little emphasis he pulls you in closer by the hand on your ass and rolls his hips up a little. You can feel his bulge pressing against your clothed pussy. 

You shutter a little but keep any sound from escaping you. Your brain tries to make sense of everything going on but with his hand continuing to message and squeeze your ass you find it difficult. You were scared but the way he was embracing you was almost comforting, even his scent aside from the dirt and blood wasn't bad. He smelt clean and natural and being in the woods and near the fire gave him an alluring scent. 

His other hand let go of your neck and reached behind him. You see a gun being pulled from  some holster and pointed behind you. You flinch and cling closer to the killer on instinct and in return he wraps his free arm back around you to keep you secured to him. 

“Y/N? Are you really sitting on that fuckers dick?” You turn to see Zac practically crawling inside. 

You try to move, to go to him and defend yourself but the hold on your waist is too strong. You shook your head and looked panicked between the two men. “No! That's not what's going on!” you start to tell him.

Zac coughed up some blood. “You know Molly's dead right? And I guess you saw Jess huh?” he seethed. You watched as he pulled himself to the driver's seat and reached for the side door.

“Zac, I didn't do anything, I swear.” you tried to reason with him as you struggled against the masked killer.

“Shut up! You're lying, look at you!” he shouts as he struggles to find something. When he did however it was useless. As soon as he pulled back and Simon saw a handgun he shot Zac right in the forehead. 

You couldn't help it, as soon as the gun went off you were clinging to the man holding you hostage once again. This time you buried your face into him as much as you could and your hold on his vest was like steel. 

You shook and cried against his chest. He tried to be soothing, cooing and patting your head. “Alright little one, gotta calm down and get yer things.” He told you after a few minutes. He figured he could wait to tear those clothes off of you for a bit longer. He may be a killer but he's not an animal, not when you were just what he's been needing. 

You look up at him with watery eyes and a little pout. “Where are you taking me?” You ask, voice hoarse and quiet. 

“Home Y/N, you’ll be comfortable, just be good yeah? Now get yer stuff.” He says and lifts you to your feet to stand in front of him. Even when he is just sitting he’s tall you notice. You don't move, not sure exactly what you're doing or how to react. Should you run, or try and fight back? Would it even matter, he was so much stronger than you and clearly knew what he was doing out here. “C’mon love, I'm trying to be nice. Grab whatever ya don't want left behind and put yer boots back on.” He instructs with a pointed gesture of his head. 

You nod slowly and reach for your boots. Once they are on and adjusted you turn around to find your duffel bag. Once you do you come back to the bed and reach around the man for the book you had been reading earlier and slide it back in your bag. “Okay.” you say. Having everything you came with now packed back up for wherever this man’s home was. 

He stands up and takes your bag from your shoulder. He reaches into your pocket and takes your phone out and tosses it into the pool of Zac's blood. “Alright, let's start walking.” he says and guides you out of the RV. You avoid looking at Zac and Jessica as you pass by their dead bodies. It was going to be at least a few days before anyone would probably even notice their bodies. 

“It's about a five mile walk, watch yer step and stay close, got it?” he informs you. 

“Okay.” you say softly. You looked into the dark woods and shuddered. What was going to happen to you? And then your dark and cold walk began with enough time for you to think about every horrible thing that could happen.

~thanks for reading~

[jillsandwhichs]

What we Gain/Book 1/Chapter 7, The 57th Expedition

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Levi Ackerman

Summary: It is the beginning of the 57th expedition. Secrets are spilled and emotions are expressed.

WC: 5.6k

Rating: Mature/Gore/Smut

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

It has begun though—the 57th mission ever is now! You are beside Levi. Eren is just behind the two of with and Petra along with the others are at your guy's sides. Multiple scout members are far in front of you including Erwin and Hange. This mission is going to take a lot of work but ever since last night, you've been ready.

The embrace you shared with Levi awoken something in you. You know he'll protect you and vice versa. The Levi squad will look out for each other. Your main focus is to kill titans and protect Eren. You are nervous still, admittedly. You'll always be on edge though, everybody is. As for the new recruits, you seen some crying and shaking before take off. The one that made you scared the most was Armin.

Flashback:

Leaving HQ, you quickly grabbed Vera and began to send out scouts to get geared up. "Let's go, let's go, the clock it ticking." One by one recruits began to get their horses and gear. They were prepared, nicely done. You were proud. The training and studying must've paid off well for each of them.

You turned around and saw one of them struggling to fix their horses nestle. You sighed softly and jogged over to them. "Let me." You said to Armin. He let go of the rein and allowed you to adjust it. His hands were shaky. It reminds you of your first ever expedition. "Armin, blow on your thumb, you'll be fine." "What?" "Just do it. Blow on either thumb and feel as your heart rate begins to slow and your nerves begin to ease." It's something your father taught you.

Armin started to do it and nodded. "Thank you." "Mhm." You then helped him onto his horse and got his feet in the correct loops. "Listen to me Armin," You glanced up at him. "You need to fight with spirit out there, okay? I'll be watching you." You smiled at him. He nodded and clicked his tongue to his horse. They began to trot off to match the formation they've been taught over the course of this month.

You got onto Vera and caught up with them.

Flashback end:

You could hear Eren and Oulo talking behind you and Levi. It made you snap back into reality. This is really happening. All that you've been worried about this past month is coming to life. You have to make sure this is executed well, and you will. For some reason you felt the need to double check Vera and your gear whilst riding. You're good. Your anxiety is getting to you bad.

Peeping over at Levi, you saw his classic determined look plastered on his face. He's ready for action. You like seeing him in action. Levi is a strong man, very skilled. You've picked up some tricks and tips from him even. He's a great captain.

As the horses began to pick up in speed and you got further into Wall Maria, Erwin stuck his hand out and shouted. "Long range formation!" This was it. You knew where you needed to be, question is, does everyone else know where they belong? Erwin specifically warned everyone to worry about themselves, so you shook the naughty thought from your head.

It was insane to see the formation go into play. No one was right by each other, everyone was close in a way, but also so distant. You and Levi were the closest. It made you feel better. You're in Row 5 which is for Center Standby. It's the entirety of the Levi squad; The best squad.

"Stick in formation everyone. Make sure Eren is protected. Make sure you don't die!" Levi shouted as he began to boost off. Everyone followed him.

-

A few minutes in and flares were all over, specifically reds, a green and two blacks. You could hardly see the blacks though, but that means there's an abnormal somewhere around here. "Do you know what the black smoke means?" You questioned Eren. "Yes, abnormal." "Good." That little quiz went well. Eren was then told to fire a flare, he listened well.

You expired and gandered over at Levi. He was looking at you. You mouthed to him: "We got this." And he nodded as a response. It's a thing you two do. Since you can't quite hear one another, mouthing sentences is all you've got. You've gotten great at reading lips because of it.

More and more, you saw titans. The outer squads took care of them. Levi did say not to expect to kill too many, but possibly a few. What is worrying you though is the fact there seems to be a lot more titans than there were just moments ago. Weird.

Someone on the right side formation rode up to Levi for a brief moment to give him some intell. The look on Levi's face frightened you. It was a look of sadness and anger. This man has it out for the titans. "What is it?" Petra asked Levi, her voice slightly shaky. She's scared too, she's always been the most timid one alongside Gunther. "A horde of titans took out the right wing spotters. Keep an eye out. Petra, you know what to do." Petra then detached from them to do her thing.

A horde of titans... You are surprised you guys haven't ran into too many—yet. You are sure there'll be plenty to come. You remember your first titan kill. It was a six meter, beefy sized and it had very thin brown hair. It was disgusting. Slicing it's nape was like a reward. Watching the fat fucker fall onto its face was pleasing. You hate them all so much. You strive to end them all. You and Eren share reasoning to—the loss of family and your home.

You didn't live in Shinganshina, but you knew of it. You lived more towards the lower country side, that's how your parents had their farm. Unlike Eren though, you didn't witness the horrors of that day five years ago. Your mother and father did though. You're still so happy and grateful they managed to get out of that hellhole alive.

There wasn't anyway you could sit here and think about them. No. You have to focus on the expedition.

-

The formation is breaking up. This isn't what you expected. You figured Erwin would make sure the formation stays in tact, but it's been the opposite.

Now, the entire Levi squad is entering into the deep, dark depths of the forest. It's spooky—fitting you suppose. Everyone seems more on edge now than before, ever since hearing about a so called 'abnormal' yet from what you're hearing, it's possibly a little bit more than that. You're beside Levi, Eren to your left. Eren seems to be scared though considering he's ranting about how a titan could appear out of no where.

He isn't wrong.

You are tense, to be honest, you're extremely anxious. At any moment, a titan could pop up and crush you all. You're suddenly hyper aware. You want to make sure you all get out of this alive.

"Quit whining and move on from the obvious already, neither of those is an option anymore." Levi stated to Eren, his rambling must've gotten annoying. "What are you talking about?" "Haven't you noticed what's around you?" Levi questioned Eren. Eren actually looked around. You sighed deeply. You get where Levi is going with this. "Take a look at these big ass trees." Levi sternly noted. Eren did just that.

It is the perfect time for ODM gear to be put to use. Trees are the best way to grapple around and use it. You realized that immediately. During training, they often take you to woodsy areas to test out your gear. Bark is a stable support for the hooks on the gear. It truly is the best way to maneuver with it.

You caught up beside Levi once he was done talking. "Do you think we'll end up using our ODM gear?" You asked him. "Probably, so make sure it's set and make sure you're ready for anything." Levi replied. You nodded. "Levi?" "Hmm." "Stay alive, please." You gazed at him with soft toned eyes. He scrunched his eyebrows slightly. "You better stay alive too." He ordered. "I will."

Everyone is pretty much in the dark on what's going on. Nothing is going as 'planned'. But you yourself are having a hard time believing there was ever a stripped out plan to begin with.

As you traveled deeper into the woods, the sudden appearance of black smoke showed. That means an abnormal is close. Too close. Everyone looked back, some faces had fear, others determination. Yours was a mix of both. "Blades drawn, now." Levi stated to all of you. You obliged. You pulled out the sharp, crisp blade from your holder and held it close. You are ready for action at any given time. "It'll happen in the blink of an eye—be ready."

When Levi has a low, serious voice, that is how you know even he is aware of the danger surrounding you all. You kept up your hyper awareness. Just as he said, within the blink of an eye, this abnormal could strike the squad. You'll take it out if need be. You glanced over at Petra and the shock on her face was priceless. You are scared for her. She best be in the right headspace.

The forest got quiet momentarily. Another scout was high in the air, you were worried even more now.

That fear turned into you being petrified as the large titan slammed them into a tree.

"Go, move it!" Levi shouted. Everyone on the squad began to tug on their horses reins, urging them to make haste. Your heart was picking up in speed. You could hear it beating somehow despite all of the loud, treacherous noise all around you. This must be that freaky abnormal. It doesn't look like any one you've ever seen or killed.

The shitty titan was to all of your guy's left now. Suddenly, she swopped down and attempted to seemingly snatch Eren!? "What the hell!" You shouted, moving closer to Eren. You'd rather it be you than him. You want to kill this freakazoid badly, now more than ever. To hell with titans. Even with speeding up, she was catching up to you all at such a rapid rate. This can't be just any abnormal. It shows signs of a high IQ. So weird.

The look on the titans face was pure nightmare fuel. It was... Smiling? It was disgusting. You wish you could knock all of its goddamn teeth out. Why is it gawking at Eren that way? Eld & Gunther began to mutter amongst themselves. They need to fucking focus. This titan needs to die! "It's gonna be okay." You whispered to yourself. This titan is way too fast. It's so tall. It's terrifying.

Levi wasn't answering anyone's pleas. Not Eld's, not Petra's; You doubt he'd answer yours. Reinforments quickly showed up to take down the titan. This brought a wave of relief to you. They're strong, they got this.

Or so you thought.

"Jesus Christ!" You shouted, your voice shaking. They're dead. This titan, it's nuts.

"Captain, your orders!?" Petra screamed. Her voice made you freeze. She's scared shitless. Everyone is. You're scared, but in a way... Not...? You just feel anger mainly. You're blinded and subsided to your own personal emotions. You plan to channel them on this fucker. "Tell us to engage sir!" Shouted Oulo. Still, no response. "Levi...?" You uttered to him, he didn't reply. All you got was a bland glance. What's going on in that head of his? "I'll cut the bitch." Eld said angrily.

Levi wasn't fucking answering anyone. It was ticking you off. "Levi, please, give us orders." You pleaded to your captain. He won't answer. "Levi!" You screamed. This time, you got a look of distress from him. This isn't good, not at all. With a low tone, he finally formed a sentence. "Everyone, cover your ears, now." What? This confused you. Everyone listened. With your blades still in hand, you covered your ears. Your balance is top tier, you managed to keep yourself on Vera.

After he shot it up, you didn't even notice what the color was. You didn't care to look. You felt safe seeing Erwin and his minor group all sitting within the trees. You heard the commander yell, "Fire!" And with that, loads of hooks went crashing into the titans thick skin. You looked back in awe. The lights and sudden crashing of the titan were a relief but it definitely gave you a scare.

This titan is very different, obviously. You figure Erwin will be taking this titan alive. It's smart. It should be tested on.

Levi left the squad, leaving you with Eren and the others. He flew up to Erwin. From a distance, you could see the two of them speaking to one another. Did they... Plan this? You're puzzled, admittedly. Hopefully Levi will reveal what's truly going down soon. You have your own theories but those are for your brain and your brain alone. You don't want to conspire and cause rumors but you have a gut feeling this isn't just any ordinary titan.

Eren was about to say something but Oulo and Petra shut him up. You wish they didn't. But it's for the best. The key focus now is going ahead. You all need to. While riding forward, you heard even more blastoffs from behind you. They're securing her even more, smart. Your guess is, this isn't a titan but rather, a human, just like Eren. It would make the most sense. You hope you're wrong in a way, but you also hope your gut is being honest with you.

-

"Stop yelling at Eren! The boy is entitled to his own opinion. It is a bit fucked that Levi kept us in the dark, god dammit!" You yelled at all of them. They shut up real quick. You were standing right beside them.

So it's true, there is someone in that fucking titan. Levi knew all along. How come he's acted so worried then? Was it all false? Was it a facade? So he truly never cared about himself or you? He played it off that way real well. You have to say, your feelings are a bit tainted now. Confusion is fogging your head up. You have such a bad migraine.

You are glad Eld agrees with you. He's the smartest out of all the men, then Gunther, then well, Oulo. You like to pretend he doesn't exist.

"Let's not make assumptions. It could've been for just about any reason. It isn't our business anyways." You said softly, sitting down on the branch beside Eren and Oulo. Eld is right. There could be a spy. It would make sense, a lot of sense. You all can't be too sure though.

You scoffed at Oulo's pure lying. He's a nuisance. You just want to go back home, you miss your parents. "Right Oulo, I'm sure." You mumbled underneath your breath. "Shithead." He somehow didn't hear you say either of those things. Erwin not letting anyone know anything might've been for the best in his eyes. In yours, it's messed up. So many died today and what, for a fucking set up? Poor bastards. You feel slightly betrayed by Levi even. You wish you didn't.

You thought you two had a connection.

Commander Erwin did what he had to though.

You get it.

Rest in Peace to all of sacrificed their hearts for the greater good today.

A couple minutes later and you jumped in shock. What the fuck is that? Screeching? It sounds horrific. "What in the hell?" You yelled, looking over at the squad. Petra looked at you in confusion, so did Eren. When it went quiet, you all just looked back and forth between each other. "Had to be that titan." Gunther said. "For sure." You agreed.

For once, everyone agreed on something.

That titan is out of it's mind.

-

It's been a good few minutes but finally, the sign to go home has risen up. The blue flare smoke. Withdrawal time. "That's our que. Alright, let's saddle up." Came from Gunther. You smiled slightly and stood up. Finally.

You double checked your gear and harnesses—everything was good. They had to of figured out who it was. You're nervous to figure out who. How could someone do this to everyone in the scouts? How could someone want to be a spy? It confuses you. It's fascinating in a way. You to learn more.

As you were all flying through the air, you giggled as Eld brought up the time Petra peed herself her first time out. You weren't there to witness it but the story was so funny the first time around. The look on Eren's face when Eld say that made it even more silly. "Leave her be!" You laughed out, flying right beside Eren and her. Petra yelled at him. She's cute.

Gunther then yelled at everyone to stay focused. You locked in. You don't want to die. It is humorous though. It's always nice to find a enlightening factor on these dark missions.

Whilst flying, the lot of you thought you seen Levi. The first to notice it wasn't him was the first to go down—Gunther. "Gunther!" You shouted, looking down at his fallen body. Who the fuck is this!? They're wearing the exact uniform and gear the rest  of everyone else is wearing. Did they wrangle it off of a dead body or is it someone whose actually with us? You can't even see their face.

You felt your heart sink. Yeah, he's dead. "Fuck." You yelled, seeing your friend's dead corpse. "No." You whispered to yourself. This can't be... How can someone do such a thing? His death was caused by another person, not a titan. To hell with them. Where is Levi? Erwin? You're on this on your own. Without Gunther, you're in charge now. Shit.

Oulo tossed Eren and told him to keep moving. It pained you, but it's what needs to be done. There's no time to dwell right now. You have to keep moving. "Protect Eren at all costs!" You yelled, swinging behind him and managing to keep up with the others. They were all going so fast, it was hard to keep track of who was who until you got a glimpse of their face or hair. Who is this traitor?

You suddenly felt a hard push to your side. "Fuck." You grunted. You slammed against a tree. You heard Petra call you name. Your ODM gear wasn't connected to anything. You were going to fall if you didn't think fast. You quickly aimed towards the tree up in the distance and your gear latched. This bitch just tried killing you. "You bitch!" You yelled while attempting to take their hood off as you boosted forward. You attempt was futile, they dodged it in it.

Could it be... The Female titan? Maybe Oulo is correct for once. Petra had a fierce look on her face. It's evident she wants to end this cunt just as much as you do. You thought they captured her, but possibly not, unless it is an accomplice of sorts. You can't be too sure of anything.

Until, you could be sure.

"I hate being right!" Oulo said in a disappointed tone.

It is the female titan.

"Fuck, everyone, withdrawal, go!" You shouted before boosting off. "Eren, go, go, go!" She's fucking huge, so tall and so fast. Dear God.

The yellow light that appeared as she transformed was almost blinding and as she ran, steam and ashe dissipated off of her. That must be what occurs anytime someone transforms. Hange will get a kick out of that when you let her in on this.

"Not again! Damn you. I'll kill you, I swear." Eren screamed and went to do what seemed to be transforming into his titan form before Eld told him not to. Eld was good for that. It's too dangerous and besides, no one knows what could happen to Eren if he did. This titan is probably stronger, more experienced. You have to think logically here, everyone does.

Eld decided that all of you will try to fight here. This is it. You may or may not die here. "I can fight her too!" "No Eren. Get the hell out of here, NOW!" You yelled so loud it clearly spooked him. He gave you a look of sadness before turning around and yelling some nonsense about trusting the Levi squad.

Petra and Oulo managed to slice the bitches face and you sliced her chin area. Anywhere could help. Any cut will weaken her more. She seemed super smart. You're being extra careful around her, you hope the others are too. You quickly gandered over your shoulder and you could still see Eren in the distance. He has to get as far away as possible. You need him alive.

The female titan is blinded. Good going on Petra and Oulo's end. She's covering her nape though, that makes things tougher. This bitch needs to die. She even went as far as to slam herself against a tree to cover her nape. "Oh no you don't!" You yelled, slicing her shoulder and pulling away. She had no reaction. This titan is tough, for sure.

All four of you looped around and sliced multiple parts of her body. So far so good. All you need to get to is her nape. She's so intelligent, being able to know to cover the nape is so clearly a sign of the fact there's a real person inside. You're still wondering who it is too, just about everyone is. You hope Eren manages to get back okay. You also hope Levi is alright.

Her shoulders were more than gashed now. Blood seeped from them. They need to come off sooner or later, then you'll be able to cut the nape. You need her to die, you need it. Levi would be so proud of you all.

The titan dropped her hands. This is the perfect opportunity. "Get to her nape!" You shouted to the group. They all huffed in agreement. Looking back, Eren was still there. He's too brave for his own good, just as you are. That's one thing you two have in common. You focused back on the titan. You're grateful Eren has faith in you all. It's true. You have this. All of you do.

"Eld!" Petra screamed so loud just about anyone could here. He's... He's dead. "Oh my God." You whimpered and pulled back. You were about to be titan meat. You don't want to die, you can't. The titan spit his lower half out of her mouth. You watched as Eld's body hit the grassy ground. No... This can't be. How can you lose two of your squad members in the matter of minutes. This is the worst case scenario.

The titan used all of her energy to regenerate one eye. That's crazy. It's insane. And now, Petra is dead. Whose next, you or Oulo? You felt your heart begin to slow down. It's as if you're accepting your fate. You can't, you won't. You will kill her. "Petra." You whispered. You can't believe she's gone too.

Oulo went for her neck and before you could stop him, he was kicked against a tree.

Now, it's just... You... You and Eren.

"Holy fuck! Oh my God." You screamed and pulled back. There's absolutely no way. They're dead. There's nothing you can do, your efforts will be useless. "Eren, go, fallback, c'mon!" You yelled and boosted over to him. The shell shock on his and your face was contorting. You never want to witness anything like that ever again. "Please, let's go." You urged him.

But he literally disobeyed you and next thing you knew, he was a titan.

"For fuck sakes, will you EVER take an order!" You shouted. Eren began to bolt towards the other titan. You couldn't do much. You stood by on a tree branch. "Please, someone, get over here." You muttered to yourself.

You watched what went down from a distance. Eren went to swing at her, but she dodged it. It surprised you, he thought he would have had it. Suddenly, she kicked him so hard in the stomach that an entire slobber of spit flew out of his mouth. "God." Was all you could mutter to yourself. She is still missing one eye which gives Eren an advantage with vision. That's good at least.

Eren punched it, knocking her all the way into a tree in the distance. You're unsure of what to do. It's not as if you can interfere. This is titan business. You can't do anything. Possibly going and getting Levi could be a good course of action but leaving Eren behind would defeat the entire point of the mission to begin with. You're sure someone's on there way. There's no chance no one heard Eren turn into his titan form.

She pushed herself up off of the tree and stood there. This dazed you. Steam and smoke emitted from her tall body. Her face was in a permanent state of utter staring. She never seemed to blink. Interesting. Eren threw numerous punches but only landed one. He definitely has some work to do with his titan form, you'll teach him more hand to hand soon.

The fight was brutal. All you could think about was your friends. They're all dead. It's killing you on the inside. You wish you could've done more to protect them. You had so much faith in them, until the very end. They were all brave soldiers. You hope Levi doesn't blame you. You're sure he won't. You worry. A dreary look was plastered onto your face. You miss them already.

Eren was now on top of her. He was about to punch her square in the face, but he took to long. He knows better. She dodged it and he punched the rock hard ground extremely roughly. You watched as his elbow tore apart, exposing muscle and bone. "Ew." You looked away for a brief moment. At least in titan form that'll come back in minutes.

The screech Eren let out was agonizing. It caused your ears to ring even. He's so determined. It's scary but admirable. From where you were, you could see even more steam coming off from the both of them. Are they both regenerating? Eren began to scream even louder. You covered your ears. "Damn it." You squeezed your eyes shut. You wish you weren't here right now.

As the fight went on, it became harder and harder to watch. What really caught your attention again was Eren screaming and getting punched in the face by the titan which had an icey looking hand? Is that what she does to protect her body parts, crystalize them? Hange will trip hearing that.

"Fucking hell!" You shouted. "Go Eren." He managed to punch her so hard the bitch flew then crashed onto the ground.

Just when you thought the fight was about to end, you were so fucking wrong. The titan managed to quite literally slice Eren's head off. "Oh my God." You boosted off towards them and went to slice her nape, but she covered it and flung you against the branch. You grabbed on. You're in crucial condition, but nothing life threatening. Now you're hanging onto the branch, holding on for dear life.

You looked below you, just down at her and Eren. You nearly shit yourself in fear when she opened her mouth wide. It was scary. The sight was horrific. For the first time this entire expedition, you're truly afraid.

She bit into his flesh, exposing his little body. "Eren!" You screamed. "Wake up!" You couldn't do anything. With your hands on the branch, you will fall too quickly to use your gear. There's literally nothing you can do for him. "Please!" You screamed again.

You then saw Mikasa Ackerman. She yelled for Eren, but it was too late. The titan ate him and ran off soon after. Both of you were in utter shock. "Mikasa! Come here!" You shouted. She turned her head and boosted over to you, helping you up onto the branch. You quickly fixed your gear and harnesses. "I would have died if I tried to help him. I would have plummeted to my death. I am so sorry." You whispered to her. She was simply in shock.

Before you knew it, you and Mikasa were taking turns slicing the titans body parts. It was refreshing. She was hardly fighting back. She was just covering her nape and trying to keep a hold on Eren. Once she fell, you and Mikasa both went to strike her nape but of course, it crystalized. "Shit, she did that to Eren too." You panted whilst resting beside Mikasa. "How did she...?" "Don't know. Change your blades."

You both began to get the new ones and right as you went to chase after her, both of you were suddenly snatched. "What the!?" Mikasa grunted. It was none other than Levi. "Let us go Levi!" You yelled. He had a firm grip on your waist as he flew off with you and Mikasa. "We'll stay back for now." Those words irritated both you and Mikasa. Eren needs to be saved. But at least Levi is safe.

Levi glanced down at you. Once you remembered, you suddenly felt emotional. It's just you and him now. Gunther, Eld, Petra and Oulo... All of them... Gone forever. Levi's eyes softened and became less sharp as you two made eye contact. You mouthed: "Ill explain..." And he simply gave you a nod. Levi let go of Mikasa first. Before he let you go, you felt him squeeze your hip gently. Then, you were on your own. That squeeze made you want to stay in his arms forever but nevertheless, it's time to take down this bitch.

You three kept your distance. It was ordered by Levi. He thinks Eren may be dead. You'd prefer to not think that. You and Mikasa are on the same page with that one. The two of them conversed amongst themselves. You felt a bit sick, nauseous even. "I'll handle all of the cutting, you two find a way to distract her. We'll get him out." The plan is to distract her and get Eren, assuming he's alive anymore.

You want to think he is.

Both you and Mikasa began to swerve and steer in front of the titan. She glanced at you both from time to time but nothing major. She didn't seem violent currently, just in a hurry. You quickly looked over to Levi. He's searching for a way to gouge her. He'll figure it out. The titan suddenly turned around and attempted to punch Levi, but it was as if he predicted that was exactly what she'd do.

Using his blades, he rode up her arm and gouged her eyes out. "That's it." You muttered to yourself, watching it awe. Levi is super talented. He is humanity's strongest soldier. Mikasa and you pulled away and let Levi do his thing.

You then joined in to help Levi. The two of you worked so well together. That was a compliment you always cherished from Commander Erwin. He specifically said, "You're the apple to Levi's eye. You two work well together." Ever since he said that, you've held on to it.

Flying so well, you two never once intertwined or tangled your hooks. Never once did either of you bump into each other. No, you both read each other's minds practically. The titan was now against the tree, on her butt, covering her nape. Despite how fast you and Levi are, she still manages to keep her neck covered. God it's getting old.

It got to a point where every single part of her body was sliced open. It was not a pretty sight. You managed to slice open her lower stomach and upper arms mainly. Whereas Levi focused on her wrist area and face area. Eventually, after what felt like forever even though it was only seconds, she dropped her wrist. You figured it was an opening to slice her nape, Mikasa thought the same as she immediately went down for it.

"Don't do it!" Levi yelled but his shouts were pointless. Her nape crystallized, causing Mikasa's blades to break once again. It almost appeared as if she was going to slam Mikasa against the tree but Levi quickly pushed her out of the way and got on top of her hand, stopping her. Levi seemingly got hurt in the process too, you felt bad. You took the chance, swaying down and slicing open her jaw.

Bingo.

You saw Eren's supposedly lifeless body hanging out from her tongue. His body was covered in this disgusting musty goop. You'd love to see Levi try and touch it. Surprisingly, he did. Despite his massive thing for staying clean, he grasped Eren and flew off with him. You and Mikasa caught up.

-

Riding home on Vera, you can't stop thinking about all that has happened but mainly, the death of your friends. How could this be? How will their families feel? Oh it breaks your heart. It'll be harsh to break the news to them. Vera was okay, luckily. Erwin made sure she was safe while you, Levi and Mikasa managed to make it back in one piece with Eren.

He's currently resting on a wagon. He'll definitely need time to let his body rejuvenate. Everyone will need some time to recover after this mission, both mentally and physically.

You gazed at Levi for a moment. He's pretty bruised up as well. You are very bruised up. You got swung into a tree twice on the same side, your hip is very hurt and bruised up. When you checked, it was a brownish, purplish color. When you showed it to Hange, she winced and said she was sorry for you. It doesn't matter. It was in the name of justice and freedom.

You can't wait to get back to HQ.

[captain039]

PART 6 WASTELAND HEAT (REDONE)

Cooper Howard(The Ghoul) x reader 

Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, AOB dynamics, heat, oral F receiving, smut, swearing, fallout stuff, implied cousin incest, virgin reader, drug usage, needles, plus size reader, sexual assault

Previous part <-

He kisses like a starved man. He has your hands forced above your head and his hips grinding against yours. You’re overwhelmed by everything him, his smell his leather gloves and too clothed body, his leathery lips making yours swollen and achey. He hums softly every now and then as he lets you breathe for a second, chasing air in a rush. One hand has your wrists pinned together above your head while the other is fiddling with the hem of your tank top. Your minds foggy, you’ve forgotten pretty everything right now, all hazy and heat riddled. You struggle to move your hands groaning a little in frustration as his leather covered fingers slide under your tank top and spread over your side. You want to take those damn gloves off, you hate them currently.

“You don’t stop fidgeting I will walk out that door” his warning is a low growl in your ear and you let out a small breath.

“Cooper” you mutter and his eyes snap to yours.

“Gloves” you mumble to him. He smirks slightly removing his hand from under your shirt and holding the tip of his finger to your mouth. You frown and he cocks his head to them. You hesitate but bite down on the tip of the glove and tug, before he moved to the next finger. You tug the glove off with your teeth and he continues his smirk.

“Good girl” he says taking the glove from your mouth and dropping it on the floor. He sits up, back on his knees as he tugs off his other glove and his duster coat, laying them on the floor before staring down at you. You feel like squirming under his gaze before his hands go to your hips. He grips the tops of your shorts, hooking his fingers in and pulling them. You shuffle your hips and lift them up so he can slide them off, not expecting him to slide off your underwear at the same time. You panic a little as he moves your legs to bend before dropping your bottom half clothes on the floor. You can’t cross your legs, not with him between them, your hands were quick to cover yourself though, looking everywhere but him. He lets out a tsked sound and you look to him again. He stares at your hands with slightly raised brows and you gulp. You can feel the heat you’re producing and slick, it makes you embarrassed.

“Omega, my leaving this room still stands” he says with a click of his tongue and your eyes go a little wide. You remove your hands, avoiding eye contact as his eyes stare before he presses himself back against your body. His hand grips your chin to force you to look at him and you do. You stare at his eyes, the little lashes around them too, the feel of him against you. Your need for something you don’t even know how to do or ever experienced. Every time Lucy talked about it sounded so uneventful and meaningless. Not that it had to have meaning but it sounded like most of the time she didn’t enjoy her encounters. You don’t feel him shifting till you feel a finger slide through your slick folds and a gasp leaves your lips.

“Getting in your head sugar” he mutters leaning down to press his lips against yours again. You think back to Ethan and what happened, it makes you tense and press against his chest. You don’t push him away, you grip the shirt he wears, breathe in deeply while he slows his kiss and fingers. He lifts his head frowning and you open and close your mouth a few times.

“I was accepted in the marriage trade, when the raiders came in, a raider named Ethan was supposed to be my husband, we didn’t know they were raiders. He forced his hands on me, his lips too, I don’t-“ you blurt out at the speed of light and watch the his eyes go a little wide. His hand moves from your sex and you let out a whimper.

“No, no please” you beg quietly clenching his shirt. He kisses you a little rougher this time and you sigh in relief at it.

“He didn’t do anything else but that, my father came in and killed him before he could undress me, it was the first time I’d been out of the hospital area too” you say quietly against his lips.

“Please, please I need-“ you don’t know where your begging comes from, the pure need for him to be close, to have him be your entire moment.

“Omega” he says a lowly hand gripping your hip. He flips you suddenly and you almost struggle to move with him as he perches you on his lap, his back against the headboard. You take a small breath hands resting against his clothed chest. You feel the bulge in his pants against your exposed sex and shuffle a little closer to grind yourself against it. His hands instantly grip your hips in a bruising touch and you stop letting out a small sound. You pant softly as his fingers move to the singlet covering your top half. He watched you with eyes like a hawk as you nod a little and he slips your singlet up and over your head. His hands smooth down your sides over the flesh there.

“I’m not hurting you?” You ask and he frowns before raising an eyebrow in question. You glance at yourself, the rolls on your side your chubby belly and thick thighs. He follows your gaze eyes staring hungrily over your flesh before his hands move behind your back to unclasp your bra. You look to the head board instead of his face, your body is flush with a layer of sweat over it, you’ve no doubt soaked his pants from where you sit. You feel his hands slide over your side, thumbs under your breasts before one thumb brushes over your nipple gently. It makes you jolt in surprise and look back to him, seeing him lean forward tongue darting out to twirl around your other nipple while his thumb rubs over the other one. It’s gentle not like what Ethan had done and squeezed harshly, his tongue swirls and flicks before his teeth gently scrap over the sensitive flesh and a small gasp leaves your lips. You glance down to him seeing him staring at you intently again as his full hand covers your breast and gives a gentle knead. He smirks when you make another small noise as he fondles and toys, your hips grind against his hardened cock and you feel a rush of need. You grind a little harder feeling him smirk around your breasts before he leans back.

“Go on” he cocks his head hands leaving your body too. You frown and glance down to his bulge before shuffling back to his thighs. He rests his hands behind his head watching you as you shakily undo his buttons and zip before shuffling his pants down a bit. You move his boxers away and pull him out hearing him sigh quietly, his eyes closing. You stare a little, just like the rest of his body it’s leathery with some ridges, a deeper reddish orange than the rest of him. You swallow silently and shuffle back forward, hips raised, lining him up.

“Easy-“ before he can finish you slowly lower yourself onto him and you whimper. His hands instantly grip your hips and still you and stop you. It’s a stretch and it stings your head hung and your breath leaving you in sharp pants.

“Fuck” he grunts holding you deathly still his tip just in.

“Jesus Christ, omega” he breaths and you let out a small noise in response.

“Sweetheart you gotta prepare yourself” he mutters.

“Sorry” you mutter back.

“Stop fucking apologising” he snarls with a sigh as he lets his bruising grip loosen.

“Just- slowly now” he says and you nod. You slowly lower yourself feeling the stretch, the sting and resistance before your butt meets thigh.

Your minds blank with how full you feel, how warm everything feels. The alpha lets out a low growl from his throat head leaned back.

“Slowly move your hips when you’re ready” he says a little breathlessly and you nod. You grind down on him and let out a small breath before lifting your hips slowly and lowering them. There’s a lot of stinging, and you lean forward a bit, head still hung and rest it against his shoulder. His hand snakes up your back leaving goosebumps in its wake before he massages the back of your neck with his hand.

“I know it hurts sugar” he mutters before he lets out a small chuckle.

“Sort of your own fault” he adds and you whine in response not finding any words to back talk him. His other hand goes to your hip, guiding you to slowly move up and down, and grin against him.

“It’ll feel good” he murmurs as you slowly find a rhythm and the sting begins to fade. Your hands are gripping his shoulders now as you lift your head and find strength to move on your own, the hand on your neck going to your side and squeezing gently. His eyes stare into yours again as you feel yourself quickening briefly then slowing down again, testing how everything feels.

“Fuck” you let out and another rough chuckle leaves him before he hums and guides you to move faster. You feel him inside, roughly gliding against your walls, the feeling of being so full makes you pant and clench slightly.

“Clenching around me already sweetheart” he pants and you nod. Your legs and hips hurt, but you don’t care, tension builds in your stomach like a knot but you can’t find the edge yet. You whine a little frustrated and he moves his hand between you both, two fingers pressing against a sensitive spot before rubbing slowly. You moan eyes closing as you feel your stomach tightening again. His fingers go in time with your hips and you feel yourself clench around him before coming undone. Something snaps inside you, you feel slick going down his cock and between your thighs. He snarls softly, grabs your hips with both hands and holds them up a little before he’s thrusting inside you. The movement makes you moan into his shoulder as he thrusts into you, you feel him swelling and whine softly. You tilt your neck without thought feeling his hot breath against your pulse. He ruts into you, pushing the knot of his cock inside and locking it in. You gasp and pant at the feeling your hips twitching slightly as he rests you back in his lap. He didn’t bite your neck like the teacher said and you feel somewhat unsatisfied by it. You mouth along his neck tasting sweat and dust, his head tilts ever so slightly and you gently scrap your teeth. He moves his hips and you stop with a small moan. You feel exhausted but full, your mind more focused but tired.

“Sleep” he orders and you hum eyes already closed and body sagging against his. You feel him shuffle a bit, hissing softly as he tugs his knot inside you. He reached for the blanket covering the end of the bed, bringing it up around your shoulders and you snuggle in deeper.

Next part ->

[azuramarigold]

Underground Dealings

Synopsis: You were a typical office worker that one day gets fired at your job at a smaller office ran by Naoya Zen'in, but your friend, Yuji Itadori, who works at a small coffee shop that you discovered a year ago on your way to work, suggests that you apply to his uncle's company. What you didn't realize was that your assets were going to be important to the company in every department, and that every head, from the CEO to legal has their own underground dealings on what keeps the company afloat.

Characters: officeworker!reader x CEO!Sukuna, officeworker!reader x businessassociate!Gojo, officeworker!reader x salaryman!Nanami; other pairings to be added

Other characters: Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Nobara Kugisaki, Naoya Zen'in, Maki Zen'in, Mai Zen'in, Uraume; other characters to be added.

Genre: modern au, eventual smut, 18+, angst, violence, gore

WARNINGS: (eventual) smut, blood, violence, gore, using weapons, death, drug use, smoking, alcohol use, cussing.

Divider/Navigation made by: saradika

Ko-Fi Commissions AO3 Profile

Prologue Prev.

Ch 2. Word count: ~4.2k

Chapter 2: Tour of the Office

“If you can sign here, here, and initial here…”

            The attorney that sat in front of you was older, him with nice dark, disheveled hair and eyes with a large nose, but honestly was still quite attractive, and with a strong jaw. He wore a black tailored suit and black tie with a crisp white dress shirt, it wasn't too extravagant – simple and neat. He used a long finger to point at every spot for you to sign on your new employee contract – deliberate and to the point.

            “You'll also be given a personal work laptop and personal cellphone as well,” the attorney stated, he had introduced himself as Hiromi Higuruma. Said items were beside him, a simple thin black laptop and the newest model of the top-of-the-line smartphone – your own phone was a few models behind. “You’ll need to sign an agreement regarding these.” Higuruma then pulled out a couple of documents.

            The documents were simple enough. They stated that you would not use the laptop for personal use such as storing photos, personal data, etc. It was the same for the phone, the phone was to be used to contact clients, arrange things for Mr. Ryōmen for business trips, order necessary things for him, and for him to contact you directly; you were to not give that phone number to anyone unless Mr. Ryōmen gave permission.

            “So, no Candy Crush?” you joked with a slight smile after you read over the contract.

            Higuruma looked at you with tired eyes. “Mr. Itadori tried that on his phone…” he sighed. “Mr. Ryōmen didn’t approve.”

            “Wouldn’t go easy on his own nephew, huh?” you grimaced as you signed. You signed your name with semi-bad penmanship, something your teachers have scolded you for years for, but you never bothered to correct as your mind worked too fast to care for neat handwriting.

            “If anything, the boss is harder on him,” the attorney informed with a slight grin. “He wants Mr. Itadori to be successful.”

            “Yuji never talked about his uncle before…” you mentioned. “Only his grandfather… Is there a reason?”

            “That is not my place,” Higuruma replied stoically, his grin disappearing. He then slipped out another piece of paper. “I almost forgot… you also need to sign an NDA agreement.”

            You internally sighed. You were familiar with those in your line of work. Back when you were an intern during your college days you had to sign quite a few while you were at numerous offices. Then you had to sign one while working with Naoya.

            After a moment or two of reading over everything – which was quite standard stuff – you signed off on everything. Higuruma took the papers back and neatly put everything in his suitcase. He slid over the laptop and cellphone over to you.

            “You of course can put the laptop and phone in any type of case you like,” he told you with a sly smile. “You do get the luxury of having a company credit card as well.” Higuruma then handed you a red card, heavy in your hands as it was made of a heavier material than traditional credit cards.

            Sheepishly, you pawed over the card, noting that there was no significant bank name on it. Its red color was almost a metallic color, reminding you of freshly spilled blood. There was no name on it either, making you wonder how it could be proven to be used as a card, but sure enough there was a magnetic stripe and a chip reader on it.

            “Mr. Ryōmen doesn’t mind what is spent on that card,” Higuruma specified to you. “So, no need to go to him for approval, or do anything for paperwork regarding what you spent on.”

            You raised a brow in confusion. Many, if not all, companies expected receipts when something was bought. Or they expected a full ledger report on what you were going to use the money for just to deny you it and watch you squirm.

            Once you were done in Higuruma’s office, he led you out and standing in front of the door was the white-haired man from the day prior.

            “Why, hello there, Y/N!”

            “Ah, Mr. Gojo, it’s nice to run into you again,” you greeted with a smile.

            Gojo’s crystal blue eyes brightened. “Ah, it’s great running into you again, sweets!” he jested. His eyes darted over to Higuruma, who was getting another document from his briefcase. “Higuruma, I know you are not grabbing what I think you are grabbing!”

            “A sexual harassment form?” Higuruma deadpanned. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

            “Asshole, put that away!” Gojo hissed angrily. “She’ll get the wrong idea!”

            You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, trying, and failing to cover it up with your hand. “What brings you here, Mr. Gojo?”

            Gojo gave a large smile. “Well, you’re officially hired, so, I thought as a lovely gentleman I would give you a tour – HIGURUMA STOP FILLING OUT THE DAMN FORM!”

            There was the subtle sound of Higuruma’s pen haphazardly scratching at the paper on the surface of the wall, filling out the necessary, or in Gojo’s mind unnecessary, parts.

            “Just getting a head start,” the attorney mumbled. He then put the paper away. “Now, Ms. Y/N, the phone I gave you already has some numbers programmed into it. It of course as Mr. Ryōmen’s number, Uraume’s, Mr. Itadori’s, mine, and every department head in the company along with their secretary.”

            Gojo’s eyes sparkled mischievously behind his glasses. “Oh, that means you already have my number!” he informed teasingly. “Feel free to program it into your personal phone as well!” He gave a not-so-subtle wink.

            Higuruma’s hand twitched toward his briefcase again for the form.

            “I swear to any deity that is willing to listen to me, Hiromi, I am going to beat the fuck out of you if you keep doing that!” Gojo threatened, raising a fist and waving it at him.

            “Not very wise to threaten an attorney, Satoru,” Higuruma quipped back, a smile playing on his lips. “Anyways, we are finished here, Ms. Y/N. If you would like to go with Gojo for a tour, I guess I cannot stop you.”

            You gave Higuruma a bow, ignoring the slight hike in your skirt that you for sure Gojo noticed. The skirt you wore was a tad bit shorter than you’d like, but it was the only clean one that you had available.

            “Thank you, Mr. Higuruma,” you thanked. You then took the phone and laptop, cradling the laptop under your arm.ō

            Earlier when you arrived back at Ryōmen Enterprises for your new employee paperwork, the receptionist, Shoko, had set you up with your new employee badge. She took your picture, complimented your hairstyle and makeup, and printed it on a nice official badge. Shoko had given you a generic lanyard for it but informed you that you can use any type of lanyard you’d like.

            As Mr. Ryōmen’s personal assistant now, you have access to every part of the building. Basically, if Mr. Ryōmen, Yuji, and Uraume had access to something, you had access to something. In a way it was refreshing, you had a lot more access to things than when you were with Naoya.

            Gojo was trying to be a decent guide as he wanted to start from the ground up. On the ground floor he re-introduced you to Shoko first, stating that he and her had gone to high school together and in turn when to college together.

            “Actually, a lot of us went to school together,” Gojo pointed out with a smile.

            You quirked an eyebrow. “Just how old are you then, Mr. Gojo?” you inquired with a sly smile.

            He gave an over-exaggerated open mouth gasp, putting his hand to his chest. “My, my…! How rude asking a young man his age!” he dramatically stated while Shoko chuckled.

            “He just turned 32,” Shoko informed coyly. Gojo glared at her in return.

            “Keep smoking and your 32 is going to turn into 62 real fast!” Gojo quipped back.

            You tilted your head to the side. You didn't think Gojo and Shoko looked any older than yourself, mid-twenties. In fact, you wonder how old Mr. Ryōmen was, as he was Yuji's uncle, he didn't look very old either.

            “So, did you guys go to school with Mr. Ryōmen then…?” you then asked curiously.

            “We met in college,” Shoko explained lightly. “He's a few years older than us.”

            You nodded. “It's just… like you guys, he doesn't look his age…” you noted. “It's weird he has a 19-year-old nephew.”

            Gojo shrugged offhandedly. “I think his twin brother knocked up a girl like, right after high school…” he mentioned.

            “Explains why Yuji and he look so much alike…!” you nearly gasped aloud.

            “Yeah, no shit!” Gojo laughed. “I thought Yuji was his kid at first. I was told to shut the fuck up and get back to work.”

            “Which you should be doing right now,” a deep voice rumbled.

            Comically, it looked like shivers ran up Gojo's spine and tingled through his white hair.

            “Oh…! Boss!” Gojo greeted smoothly as he spun around to see Mr. Ryōmen large form behind him. “What a pleasant surprise~!”

            “Get back to fucking work, Gojo!” Mr. Ryōmen griped, his face flushed with anger, teeth gritted, a vein about to pop from his forehead. “I swear to fucking Christ, the Brat does more work than you do and I catch him looking at AI porn of Jennifer Lawrence on his damn tablet!”

            Gojo gave a low whistle, “Kid got balls, man…”

            “Satoru…”

            “Alright, alright…!” Gojo griped, raising his hands up in surrender. “I just wanted to give the new girl a tour is all!”

            Mr. Ryōmen seemed to finally notice that you were standing there awkwardly to the side, now clutching your new work laptop to your chest. You gave a sheepish smile and wave. Mr. Ryōmen narrowed his eyes at the white-haired man.

            “Did Higuruma already start paperwork on your ass, because if he didn’t, I’m-”

            “What the actual fuck…” Gojo groaned in complete dismay before finally walking away in utter defeat.

            Before he could say anything to Shoko, the phone rang, and she promptly answered it with a faux smile and peppy voice.

            “Y/N,” Mr. Ryōmen said to you.

            “Yes…!” you answered with an almost terrified squeak.

            “Come with me, I’ll show you around,” he then ordered.

            “Yes, sir.”

            Mr. Ryōmen started on the bottom floor, which made sense since that was where you were. The bottom floor had the few receptionists that were there, Shoko being the lead one. There were a couple of college aged students that were interns that ran the back office making copies of documents and ran a small office for filing.

            He then showed the small café area where the workers got their coffees and some snacks. There was one lone barista, and he wasn’t all too busy since the morning rush was done.

            “I’ll admit he doesn’t get too much business here,” Mr. Ryōmen grinned. “I’ll probably not renew his contract after its up.”

            “Oh, why is that…?” you asked politely.

            “Ever since I bought that coffee shop for the Brat and he’s been working there with his little friends, most of the employees here get their coffee from him on their way here,” he explained with almost a proud tone. “Some even go on their lunch break for more coffee or the little lunches they have – everyone says the coffee and pastries are better there and love the customer service.” He gave you a side glance, a smirk playing on his lips. “And I recall a little someone walking in this morning also carrying one of those coffees.”

            Your face immediately flushed red. “Oh… well… that coffee shop was how I met Yuji and the others…” You admit that it the coffee was indeed better there than most chains, and you always enjoyed the hand decorated desserts that Megumi and Yuji did together. After hearing that Yuji wanted to franchise it out after getting a business degree, you wonder if that nice charm would still be there.

            “So, I’m gonna be paying you to buy my nephew’s coffee?”

            “What…!? Oh, no…!” You were trying to quickly explain yourself when you heard that he was chuckling under his breath. You frowned, realizing he was playing a joke. “Oh, ha, ha…”

            The tour continued to a large staff break room that had a complete kitchen with state-of-the-art stainless-steel appliances. The refrigerator was stocked with bottled water, sparkling water, and soda, along with some employees’ packed lunches with their names written on them. A few microwaves were attached against the walls and quite large, proving to be better than an average break room's 300-watt microwave.

            The countertops were a nice dark granite, something you would see in a six-figure home and not in a break room. There were small towers in random spots that held condiments and seasonings, all available to twirl to get what you needed. A few spots had electric stoves, so anyone was able to reheat something on a stovetop instead of a microwave. And lastly a lovely double oven was in the center.

            “Once in a while for parties I have professional chefs come and cook for the staff,” Mr. Ryōmen said. “But anyone is allowed to use the facilities here to prepare their lunch – as long as they clean up after themselves.” He stressed that last line heavily.

            You couldn't help but chuckle at that. “You make it sound like you have a couple of children here that don't look after themselves,” you nearly laughed.

            “Yuji can cook very well, he's an excellent chef in the making, but the fucker can't clean up after himself to save his life,” Mr. Ryōmen stressed heavily, you took note that this is the first time he referred to his nephew by name. “And Gojo, he'll start a fire just looking at an empty bowl… in the sink that has water in it.”

            “Oh, dear…” you nearly laughed. “That’s bad.”

            On the next floor on the tour were sales. The sales department was run by a man named Suguru Geto, who had the longest mane of black hair tied up you had ever seen. He gave you a friendly smile and shook your hand while he introduced himself. He didn't wear a suit jacket, most likely had it hung up somewhere, as he was just sporting a black dress shirt and purple tie with black dress pants and shoes.

            You had a feeling that you would be working with Geto a bit more than other departments as sales connect with clients a lot more. So, you chatted with him for a moment before a young girl with caramel colored hair tied in a neat bun with part of her hair as ringlets framing her face, her light brown eyes wide with worry as she gripped a piece of paper in her hands.

            “Mr. Geto…!” the girl nearly wailed. “I just got news from the client…! They want another revision…!” She then fussed as her dark purple skirt and cream cashmere sweater while bouncing between her feet nervously.

            Geto gave you a smile and excused himself for a moment. “Nanako, you and Mimiko have done it four times already, yes…?” he pressed, clearly trying to keep his agitation to a minimum – clearly it was toward the client and not the young girl.

            “Yes…” Nanako tearfully replied. “But they want another…”

            Geto's eye twitched. “Damn monkey…” he muttered under his breath. “Nothing but a circus show here…”

            Mr. Ryōmen seemed to know when Geto got in the mood it was time to leave. He escorted you from the office and headed to the next part of the tour, you were looking over your shoulder to see an almost devilish smile on Geto’s face as he was on the phone with the client.

            The next floor was marketing, although you could tell by seeing Mr. Ryōmen’s face he would rather skip it since it was Gojo’s department. However, it was part of the tour.

            With marketing, Gojo’s job was to make sure the brand was profitable and to help team up with sales to create awareness for clients. Gojo and Geto were high school best friends, so they were very familiar with each other and worked well together.

            Speaking of the devil, Gojo sat at his desk, his head cradled with one hand as he was on the phone no doubt with a client himself. His brows were furrowed angrily while he had a couple of people bussing about with numerous papers.

            In your line of work from previous companies, you have also dealt with marketing. There was no doubt that you would be working with Gojo as well as Geto. Luckily, Gojo was very easygoing, and since he was close to Geto you were sure you would get along with the raven-haired man as well.

            Gojo, having no time to do his usual charms, uncradled his head and used the now free arm to give you a subtle wave. He went back to what he was doing, looking as though he wanted whoever was on the other line to explode.

            Mr. Ryōmen decided to skip the next floor, as you were already there earlier – legal. You have already met Mr. Higuruma and the attorney showed you around. There were only a few lawyers with the company, but Mr. Ryōmen trusted Higuruma the most as they were classmates in high school and were roommates in college.

            The next floor was finance, which was run by Kento Nanami. He was a tall, blonde man with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline, his hair neatly parted. Like the other heads of their respective departments, he was wearing a suit, but he wore beige with a dark, royal blue dress shirt with a spotted yellow tie and a pair of brown dress shoes.

            He was not very sociable as his greeting was short and curt, his hazel eyes barely taking a glance at you. It seemed Nanami was busy as he was looking through papers and asking others in his area to go over the numbers once more, including his second in command, Yuu Haibara.

            Sales, marketing, and finance all work closely together in a business – and as the personal assistant to the CEO of the company, now it is your duty to make sure to get the details of each department and make sure everything was running smoothly. Again, you will most likely get along with Gojo and Geto, but Nanami seemed very intimidating.

            There were a few other departments that Mr. Ryōmen introduced you to as well, such as IT, run by Takuma Ino, who Mr. Ryōmen had to remind him apparently once again to remove his beanie while in the office. The young man, who was the same age as you, only gave a sheepish smile as he complied while he introduced himself. He had messy brown hair, messy from his beanie, and large brown eyes, making him look much younger than he was – it didn't help that his professional attire was a dark gray polo shirt and black slacks with black and white canvas high-tops. In a way he was cute, you could admit that but compared to the other men you had just met Ino was almost too “Boy Next Door” type.

            Several small administrative offices were in the building as well, each connected to the main departments run by each person you were introduced to. Many of the employees on the administration side seemed to be around your age, or even a couple of years younger, around the same age as the café trio you've come to befriend. They all seemed friendly and excited to meet you, although a but uneasy to see who you were accompanied by.

            After roughly two hours of touring the building, Mr. Ryōmen even showed you where the supply room was and smaller kitchenette areas were for mini-fridges and coffee makers, you were finally back at the top floor where his office was located. Uraume was at their desk, typing away at the computer, their eyes glancing toward the two of you exiting the elevator before quickly finishing and getting up.

            “Sir, I have Ms. Y/N’s desk prepared as you have asked,” Uraume informed with a slight bow.

            “Ah, good, right-on time,” Mr. Ryōmen smiled. He then proceeded to lead you to a decently sized desk that was across from Uraume’s, but still in front of Mr. Ryōmen’s office. You could tell that the desk was new and sturdy, a nice, sleek desktop setup already booted-up with a printout of your new log-in information on the keyboard.

            There was still enough room on the desk to put the laptop to the side and work on it. You didn’t have a desk phone as everything you would do as the CEO’s personal assistant would be through the work cellphone. While Uraume was the secretary and kept up with the paperwork in the office and meetings within the building with the staff, your job was more for his social meetings with clients outside the office.

            You settled at the desk, the chair contouring to your body with easy. It was ergonomic with amazing lumbar support, and it even helped support your head and neck. You could easily sit in the chair for hours without pain. It sure beat the regular $20 Wal-Mart chair that Naoya had for your desk…

            “You are free to put some personal objects on your desk,” Mr. Ryōmen informed you when he noticed you were in bliss from the chair. It sounded like he was trying to hold back a chuckle. “You know, like pictures, I know Ino and the Brat puts up little figurines on their desks.”

            You nodded in acknowledgement, still content in the chair.

            “I’m guessing you like the chair…?” your boss rumbled in amusement, you could hear the smile in his voice.

            “This is the best damn chair I’ve ever sat on…” you sighed blissfully.

            “Damn, getting a hard on over a chair?” the man nearly choked with a cackle.

            “I am but a simple woman… nice chairs and maybe a nice cheese platter…”

            Another low rumble escaped Mr. Ryōmen. “Well, I'll be sure to have a cheese platter for you as your official welcoming gift to the office.”

            His comment snapped you out of your trance as you clumsily shot from your chair, causing it to nearly fly out from behind you. “Oh, no!” you nearly shrieked. “That is not necessary at all!” you insisted.

            The man only laughed as he turned away from you to walk back into his office, waving overhead as he did.

            For the rest of the day you sat at your new desk getting your desktop set up, Uraume helping you through the system and showing you the scheduling software. It was a couple of hours later when Yuji showed up to the office, in another crisp looking suit tailored, looking excited to see that you were officially there at a desk with Uraume.

            “I told you I was starting today…” you nearly deadpanned to him. “This morning I did when I got my usual coffee…”

            “It's so different from being told versus seeing it though!” Yuji said excitedly. Giddily, he almost ran to your desk at your side seeing what you were doing. “Did you already meet all the heads yet?”

            You nodded. “Yeah, Mr. Ryōmen showed me around,” you replied.

            Yuji blinked in surprise. “Really? He didn’t even show me around. He had Nanamin do it.”

            You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Nanamin…?” you repeated.

            “Oh, Nanami in finance,” Yuji elaborated with a grin. “I just call him that.”

            You honestly couldn’t imagine the blonde, stoic man tolerating that.

            Yuji then shrugged. “Well, hopefully my uncle didn’t make you uncomfortable,” he then said.

            The next hour was you finishing up all your login information, both Yuji and Uraume making sure you were all set. Mr. Ryōmen saw the two crowding you as he walked out of his office, raising a curious brow.

            “You all settled?” he called out.

            “She should be good!” Yuji answered for you with a thumbs up.

            “Then she can go home, and you can actually do what you’re supposed to do!” Mr. Ryōmen snapped.

            Yuji hung his head, and he groaned, “Dude, I don’t even get paid here…!”

            “I literally bought you a whole ass coffee shop,” his uncle deadpanned. “Suck it up, Brat.”

            “Ugh… yes, Uncle Kuna,” the young man grumbled.

            You chuckled at the sudden familial nickname Yuji called your new boss. However, you did notice Mr. Ryōmen’s eye twitch slightly.

            “Y/N,” Mr. Ryōmen then said, a devilish smile on his face. “You may leave now for the day. I have… some words to speak to my nephew.”

            You didn’t need to be told twice as you logged out of the computer and gathered your items. As you began to walk away, you did wave at Uraume goodbye and went to do the same thing to Yuji, only to see Mr. Ryōmen dragging the poor boy into his office by the ear.             All in all, you thought your first day wasn't too bad.

Special thanks to my Ko-fi supporters!

Basic Tier

Aostrele

Draconic Hermit

JadEDU

Jaune Arc

Zippy

Middle Tier

@genderfluidsgetguns AKA IdoInFactLikeDogs

[bahngnxxx]

FORGOTTEN DYSTOPIA 

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CHAPTER 1 

PAIRING. Bangchan x !F! reader  

GENRE. Thriller, action, horror(?), eventual smut, angst(?) 

WORD COUNT. 4.2k 

WARNINGS. 18+ mdni — explicit content, gore, knives, use of weapons, smut (in later chapters MUAHAHAH 👅👅), violence obv, fighting, all the action movie jazz.  

NOTES. Oh my god. Tuck yourself in rn, this is gonna be one of my first ever actual plot lined stories, yall will love it i swear. And thank you SO much for the likes and views I got on my last post, i did not expect that much when i woke up, i really appreciate you guys. I've been having a really rough day so excuse any mistakes or drousy shit, police and stuff waaah. (im gwenchana gang 💔) i luv yewz. Enjoyzers !! 

Waking up to the wrench of dust and grime was an everyday thing, it was like a daily smoke for free, not like the cannabis shops you used to drop by to daily, those are for the past. Thats what you would call a dystopia, a land not achievable, an alternate universe where we were once able to thrive the earth. Long gone to the crumbled houses around and mutant blobs that would thrive the creaky floors of the house. 

one you, and eight men left in this barren town. 

One might call it fate, but what use is there of such a hopeful word when hell is what we’re living in right now? It isn’t destiny, It’s a curse.  

You stretch a long stretch, trying your best not to take too deep of an inhale or you’d go into a coughing fit, adjusting your eyes to the fogged-up haze around the shared bedroom.  

There were 2 other men still asleep on the floor draped with jagged blankets, ones that were probably someone's childhood. Jeongin, second youngest but still your ‘hyung’ was wrapped up in a strawberry shortcake blanket, content as a ray of green sun streaked through the broken musted plastic blinds, particles of dust apparent in the rays. Opposite to him, with a leg over the younger man’s butt was Hyunjin, one remotely similar to a ferret, always sniffing and sleeping with his tongue bitten between his round teeth. He once had black hair that would tousle overtop of people, but now he remains bald, a kiwi. A new tease for his fuzzy hair. 

 You lean up against the creaky bed, being kind of spoilt because you were a female, one that came from afar and ended up here. Looking around the room, you find the usual set up, a sorry sight to behold. The previously brown painted wooden walls are now peeling off due to the moisture damage, curled like little shavings, the ceiling caved in, in some parts, leaving only streaks of sunlight to illuminate the room. The only few pieces of furniture in the room is an old worn bed that is pushed up against the wall which you rest in, and a table that is on a support beam with two legs, shoved to the side. The two males are curled up in different shapes on the floor, a split mattress underneath them, topped with thin blankets. The only disadvantage to you being up on a slightly more comforting bed is the loss of heat, but its alright, you already have enough to your advantage. The floors are littered with old bits of carpet and the window is slightly cracked up, allowing a cool, yet unbreathable breeze to seep in, slowly. The room overall was small and dingy, a faint unpleasent smell of something decayed lingered in the damp and stuffy air, but like how every house has their own scent, we are accustomed to it and breathe it like it is our own air.  

A few moments of staring out at the grey-yellow sky outside thanks to the pollution, and you were up and adam, carefully gliding across the men so you wouldn’t step on them like the numerous times you had before. You still pout at the sight of stepping on the younger male, IN, poor thing looked like those toys back in the days where you would squish it and their eyes would pop out.  

As you make your way out to the small grimy layout of the house and to the kitchen, your met with the deep voiced early riser, Felix, his eyes staring blankly at the tablet in front of him. Looking but not seeing. He rubs his eye and pops a pill into his mouth, catching sight of you and handing the bottle to you. “Here, breakfast. Eat up, we’re out of stock, ‘its hunting day.” he croaks in his deep morning voice, as Chan would say, a dragon man with an even dragon-ier voice. You glance up from his shoulder and to the countertops, narrowing your gaze to see the empty old water bottles laying in a pile on the floor. Great, your out, now you have to resort to dry swallowing. You squint your eyes and quickly take the pills up in your mouth, gathering up as much saliva as your weak body can before gulping them down.  

Felix is always the mother hen – having the same routine every morning, Felix will check the pills to make sure he’s taken all of his then keep watch of the others to make sure they’ve downed their amount as well. It seems redundant, and a tad bit excessive, but he always insists. He then shuffles out to the kitchen window, gazing outside the fog and to the barren lands, watering the indoor plants. Even the few that your able to keep alive will die eventually—there's only so much you can do against a dying word like this. 

“One for nutrients, one for vitamins,” Changbin hums from his spot at the table, tapping his hands on the wood. He’s already taken his dose for the morning, always the first one to snag all of the supply. You're assuming he’d finished all the water for some sort of punishment, as always. The male was previously a muscular one, one with a loud laugh that echoed across the hut, but nowadays he’d been a bit more silent, distant. All the men complain about feeling fuzzy due to the intake of the pills, even bangchan, despite him being one known to be strong and upholding.  

Eventually, a slender man sneaked up from behind you, making the hairs on your back stand up, a familiar peach fuzz skimming your neck followed by that hum he’d always do once satisfied with his scaring. Dramatic ferret, hyunjin is up, finally, but not his newborn, not yet atleast. He tickled a trail down the crack of your back, blowing a cool breeze of breath to your ear, to which you whipped back and ruffled up his non-existent hair for. He let out a playful chuckle.  

“Someone’s up early. Finally.” You scoffed out, eyeing him up and down, making sure you weren’t having hallucinations or anything. Speaking of hallucinations, the shorter boy jeongin peaked up from behind him and blew another breeze of air for revenge to him. This was a daily routine for you three, and since the younger one wasn’t into skin ship- this is the closest you could get to touch, letting out those ominous “hee hee hee’s” as he scurried away to munch down some nutrients with a grimace on his face. They tasted remotely similar to soap and vinegar with a hint of.. Old soggy sponge, but you’d bared up to custom to the taste, although you couldn’t hide the way your nose crinkled up when you swallowed them, and the taste would linger for a couple of hours after that until a new taste of grimey pills entered your throat, routinely.  

Felix was busy eyeing out and noting down who’d taken what until a creak of the second bedroom from the ominous light revealed the curly haired alternative aussie, the one you favored the most—bangchan, or Chris is what you’d call him. It’s a name that much of the other men had sort of forgotten, but the name stuck to you. He didn’t exactly look like a bangchan anyways... Not anymore. He used to have kind sparkling eyes, always being thumbnails for performance videos but those were now long gone. They went from 8 teenagers with a dream, to 8 men with a crowd, and now 8 friends trying to survive with their wits burnt to a crisp. He’d given up on his passions and youth only to be succumbed to being stuck with them for eternity, not that he was complaining, he’d rather spent the rest of his days with his dearest boys then die alone in this hell.  

You flashed him a smile and he bowed down slightly to give one back, running his pale, pink calloused hands through the kinky locks, examining the exchange between the two aussie brothers. He leaned down and flexed his arms in the wrong directions like a spider due to his.. Flexibility, discussing and mapping out things on the tablet for gathering, but as you eyed in the distance... Great. Just as you thought you had a day off, you were next on the list to seek out, and this time you were out at hick’s mall center. One of the most dangerous centrals around this time, filled with all sorts of things.. Just the thought sent shivers down your spine and a shudder to your throat. Luckily, your pair was Chan, the man you could always hide behind and sacrifice to the shadows just incase... but jokes aside you’d hoped it would be an easy trip, aside from the empty bottles on the floor nothing else seemed to be missing... But a holler followed your train of thought, those deep grumbled yells that came straight from the core, lee know. 

 You followed along the screams only for them to come to you, a soapy soaked male with a towel barely hanging off his body, bubbles covering half of his face, red eyes panicked and irratated with cleanser.  

“What the fuck happened? Loose your rubber ducky?” you groan. 

“I DROPPED THE TIN OF BATTERIES IN THE WATER BUCKET.” he cries. 

“...” silence. What else did you have to say? You pushed the wet boy aside and stomped to see the tin filled with wash water now having floating components in them. Not only were the amazing stock of batteries changbin and hyunjin found previously drowned in it, but the extra emergency flashlights were too. It was an electronic soup you didn’t dare to touch, unless you had a death wish. Great. 

 “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?? WHY ARE THE ELECTRONICS IN THE BATHROOM??” you yelled. 

“I-I’M SCARED OF THE DARK, OKAY?? I- I HAVE AN IRRATIONAL FEAR OF THEM RUNNING OUT A-AND I-” 

BAM. A slam to the wall is enough to silence his blabbering as you stomp out of the room, everyone is unfocused on the ruckus but Chan glances back at you and cocks a brow. “What’s botherin’ you? ‘seem stressed.” 

“leeknow dropped the batteries. In the water. All of them.” with a slow turn, everyone in the room is twisting their head almost animatedly, hyunjin is turning from his head in the cab nits, jeongin laying on the floor in a haze is now snapping his neck to you, Felix is.. Concerned and balling his fists, Chris is scoffing, barely containing a swear, and changbin is.. Zoned out. The first to speak up is the leader, walking past you wish a gush of wind, broad shoulders skimming past your unbrushed hair as he examines the doom soup, for sure the water is salvageable but the electronics? Not so much, no. Drying won’t do the trick, and he rubs his temples together in frustration. 

“Yah, Minho I.. cant deal with you.” he mumbles as the red cheeked embarrassed boy stands shivering outside the bathroom. He’s frozen, hasn’t even washed off the soap and still has one eye squinted shut as the bubbles slowly make their way down his face to his shoulders. Chris walks out the room with a hand on his hips and lets out a light disappointed nod to confirm the news, but you two are the main ones who let out a groan. Now two things on the list, water, and batteries. What else could go so wrong? A squeal can be heard from the bedroom Chan emerged from, followed by the sudden thumping of a burritoed han, only then do you realize what he’s covered in. Gauze, a heck load of gauze, he's mummified and not to mention, dirtied with it too. The menace and maker of the crime scene walks out, only to realize his fun has resulted with the first aid kit being used up. This couldn’t get any worse, we’re running out of things quick and everyone is fucking everything up. You let out a deep, shakey huffed breathe, barely containing your anger as you speak in a slow voice.  

“Kim seungmin. Now why would you do that.”  

“a-ah well.. It was a joke..?” he speaks in an unsure, sing song voice, trying to lighten the number of daggers being stared into him but that clearly is ineffective, and the anger clarifies it as he guiltily like a sad puppy slips out of the room and swallows down his take of pills too. Hyunjin works on cutting apart the dirty gauze from han so the poor timid boy can go around his day, but that only adds to you and Chan's platter. All nessacities are now to a waste, and the main location being stacked of is a dangerous place, so your out for a ride for sure.  

Looking around the room is almost nostalgic, really. It feels like a fever dream but it really has become an unfortunate reality. It all started with some sort of sick prank that aired on television, you’d came out fresh from a tiring day of university and to your shared dorm with your best friend, jung-hae, life was chill, honestly. You two were peas in a pod, you couldn’t loose her, you’d grown up with her, she was your life and only source of happiness keeping you alive, something you’d look forward to, someone that would put the spark in your eyes, light up your dark life. It all came to soon, came to an end too quick. You used to think the world would end with a bang, some dramatic explosion or a cataclysmic meteor. You never imagined it would start with a joke. 

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It had been late that night when the broadcast aired. You and Jung-hae were curled up in your shared dorm, textbooks scattered across your desks, half-eaten snacks littering the floor. The television flickered with a news alert: some supposed "leak" from an experimental lab, acid seeping into the rivers, mutating the wildlife. At first, you both laughed. Some sick joke, a prank blown out of proportion. Until it wasn’t. 

The reports kept coming. Footage of amphibians crawling onto land, their bodies grotesquely stretched and twisted, eyes bulging, teeth too sharp. Then the bugs—bloated mosquitoes the size of birds, cockroaches with exoskeletons so thick they crunched under bullets but kept moving. The infection spread to mammals next. Stray dogs foaming at the mouth, deer collapsing with necrotic flesh with a bright blood red seeping through the crevasse of their eyes, clotting and building up a bubbling liquid that spewed in toxic sprays, enough so to sting the skin, the air thick with the scent of rot and something worse: something alive. 

Jung-hae had always been the rational one. "We need to leave," she’d said, her voice firm even as her hands trembled. The university was too close to the river. Too exposed. You packed what little you could, stuffing clothes and food into your bags, shoving notebooks into your arms like they could somehow save you. But the roads were already blocked, the highways choked with abandoned cars, people screaming in the distance. 

The infection spread fast. 

Barricading inside your dorm became the only option. Nights passed in a blur of dim candlelight, hushed whispers, rationed food. The campus grew quieter—no more frantic running, no more desperate cries. Just the sound of something moving outside, something clicking against the pavement, searching. 

Then one day, Jung-hae was gone. 

You woke up to silence. The spot beside you on the mattress was cold. Her bag was still there, her shoes by the door. But she wasn’t. Panic clawed at your chest as you searched the hallways, whispering her name, begging for this to be a mistake. But the door to the stairwell hung open, the lock broken, and outside— 

Blood. Smears of it along the wall, a trail leading down to the courtyard where the grass had turned black, where the trees had wilted, where the bodies of students lay twisted in unnatural positions, mouths frozen in silent screams. And in the center of it all, Jung-hae’s bracelet. The one you had bought her on your first trip together. The one she never took off. 

You dropped to your knees. You should’ve stopped her. You should’ve— 

A noise behind you. A rasping breath, a gurgling sound like something drowning in its own throat. You turned, your heart hammering, your fingers curling around the knife Jung-hae had given you, the last gift she had ever pressed into your hands. 

And there she stood. 

Or what was left of her. 

Her jade eyes, once bright, flickered between life and death, pupils dilated in an eerie, unnatural glow. Her body was a twisted mockery of itself, half-decayed yet still moving, her limbs stretched unnaturally as if her skin struggled to keep her bones in place. Flesh hung from her in torn, rotting sheets, her ribcage exposed through a gaping hole in her torso. And yet—her heart still beat, pulsing weakly in its cage of bone, a sickening rhythm that did not belong in something so destroyed. 

Her mouth opened, lips cracked and bleeding, revealing teeth that were too sharp, too jagged. A strangled noise escaped her throat, something between a gasp and a growl, and her fingers twitched—longer now, nails blackened and claw-like. She took a step forward, her broken ankle bending at an impossible angle, but she didn’t fall. She wouldn’t fall. Not until the infection finished its work. 

A sob tore from your chest. This wasn’t Jung-hae. Not anymore. And yet, some part of her still lingered, trapped in the decaying prison of her own body, suffering, breathing, existing when she shouldn’t be. 

You raised the knife. Your hands shook. She made a sound—half a whisper, half a plea. You didn’t wait to hear more. You couldn’t. The blade sank into her chest. Right where her still-beating heart was. 

Jung-hae shuddered. Her eyes, wide with something that could have been pain or relief, met yours one last time. Then, finally, they dulled. The glow faded. Her body slackened, no longer caught in that grotesque state between life and death. She collapsed at your feet, her blood pooling around your shoes, hot and thick—a sick mix of her own and some sort of black tar. You had killed her. Or maybe—just maybe—you had set her free. 

The world around you blurred, but the horror remained. The bodies, the rot, the infection—it would continue. It would spread. And you would have to keep running. You had no choice now. You wiped your blade clean and turned away, leaving Jung-hae behind. 

The apocalypse had already begun. 

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

You ran. Branches lashed against your face as you tore through the underbrush, lungs burning, legs trembling. The screams behind you were inhuman—guttural wails of creatures that had once been people, now twisted into something monstrous. The infection hadn’t stopped at the flesh. It had seeped into the air, the soil, the very bones of the world, turning everything into a nightmare. 

Something skittered too close behind you. The sound of clicking jaws, the rustling of too many legs. You pushed yourself harder, your vision blurring, the weight of exhaustion pressing down like lead. The forest was endless, a maze of shadows and tangled roots. And then— 

Your foot caught. Pain exploded through your knee as you crashed into the dirt. You scrambled to rise, but it was too late. A shadow loomed over you, a shape barely human, its fingers elongated into clawed horrors. Its mouth split open too wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth, a gurgling laugh spilling out— 

Hands grabbed you. You screamed, struggling, but the grip was firm. Steady.  

And warm. An unfamiliar feeling of which you haven’t felt in around... Two weeks? Three? You had lost count already, but you knew it had been a while since you’d have some sort of company. Your limbs were numbed out, you had lost all sense of touch and the ability to distinguish what's real or what's not, until now, and for certain this wasn't the cold grasp of a creature. 

Your breath caught as you were yanked backward, strong arms wrapping around you, dragging you into the thickets. You fought, twisting, expecting death. Instead, darkness took you. 

When you awoke, pain was the first thing you noticed. A dull, throbbing ache spreading through your body. Your fingers curled against rough fabric—a blanket. The scent of earth and metal lingered in the air. You blinked. Light flickered from a lantern, casting shadows against cracked walls. A shelter. A safehouse. Your body screamed in protest as you tried to move, and that’s when you saw them. 

Two figures. Watching. 

A man sat beside you, his gaze unreadable, his arms resting against his knees. His dark eyes flickered with something cautious, something measured. His cresented eyes ran up and down your figure, seemingly assessing your state—or maybe to tell apart a creature of human. He lets out a subtle nod, running pale and calloused hands through his ruffled hair. Not too ruffled, just right, atleast for you-- personally. Another man stood nearby, arms crossed, face tight with tension, but strong bulked up arms even tenser, hair messed in curls, thick glasses with no rim sitting at the edge of his nose, small doll-like lips perked up into sort of a pout. Neither spoke at first. The silence stretched, thick and uncertain. Then, finally, the one closest to you leaned forward, his voice low, steady. 

"You shouldn’t be alive," he murmured. "But here you are." You swallowed; your throat raw. Questions burned on your tongue, but you couldn’t force them out. Not yet. 

Outside, the night stretched on. And somewhere in the distance, the screams had not stopped. 

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

The scent of burning wood brought you back to the present. Ah, they had lit a fire in the broken pit for some sort of warmth despite the humidity in the area. There was enough smoke already, but this type of fire didn’t necessarily emit any harmful things. It was a new apocalyptic type of invention. You sat in the corner of the room, curled up on a tattered couch, watching the fire flicker in the makeshift fireplace. The old world was long gone, swallowed by its own mistakes, and yet the warmth of the fire, the low hum of voices, made it feel like something close to normalcy. 

Across the room, the others lounged in a heap of blankets and discarded jackets. For as long as you had been zoned out and staring, the bored boys had already found something to do, and you let out a faint smile. Laughter rang out, soft and tired, but genuine. The kind that hadn’t been heard in a long time, and for once even changbins loud echoing laughs returned, alongside the dynamic of hyunjin.. Husband and wife, or wife for wife for that matter. For a moment, they weren’t survivors. They were just people, talking, bickering, existing together in a world that had tried to tear them apart, but 8 is fate. It always had been. Discluding you, you didn’t wanna ruin their happy moment. 

Alongside you, Bangchan stood with his arms crossed, leant against the wall, also previously lost in thought like your brains were interconnected, surveying them like a father watching over his unruly children. You let out a soft, nostalgic hum. "They act the same as they did before." 

"Yeah," he murmured, his gaze distant. "Like nothing ever changed." 

You glanced at him, the firelight catching in his tired eyes. "But everything did." 

A small smile ghosted his lips. "Yeah. It did." 

The memory of your first meeting lingered in the back of your mind. The chase, the fear, the moment his hand had closed around your wrist and pulled you from the jaws of something inhuman. He had saved you that day. And now, here you were, still standing, still breathing, still watching over the only family you had left. The laughter continued. Someone threw a pillow. Someone swore. Someone tried to sing. 

For a brief moment, in this ruined world, you let yourself pretend it was enough. 

But you had something else to worry about, a devil that eased its way into your moment of joy. It was getting late; you needed to restock back up on supplies. Now wasn’t the time to rest, not when you were running out of things and fast.  

Along you shot a glance to Chris and he knew what you meant, standing up and prepping yourself for the smokey outdoors, bringing up the last of the supplies were more important for you two then them, and there you both walked off into the murky air in search for supplies in a risky place. 

Heres where the chaos begins. 

--TO BE CONTINUED!! 

[lovesodakid]

shadows of the dark

matt sturniolo x reader

1 2 3 5

summary : growing up in the ‘middle of nowhere’ small town in lochcliff, colorado, stories were heard of multiple strange disappearances, murders, animal attacks, and more. when you were younger, you never paid attention to that stuff. now at the age of 17 it’s all you ever hear about. what happens when you realize those ‘stories’ you heard growing up, may not just be scary fairytales people tell their kids.

warning ⚠️ : contains mature themes, smut, gore (nothing insane), angst, etc. this warning is for all chapters.

(this does take some inspiration from tvd !)

chapter 4 : meetings

the next morning at school, the hallways were buzzing with the voices of worried and anxious students. turns out the girl who died to an animal attack was someone in the same grade as me.

“oh my god, can you believe it?” i hear jayde’s voice as she approaches me putting my belongings into the blue metal locker.

i close my locker, spinning the combination lock, “no, it’s insane. i can’t believe she was our age.” i begin walking down the corridor alongside her.

she nods, silently agreeing with my words. we walk the rest of the way to the auditorium in silence. the school having decided that they wanted all high school students in the same room this morning to talk about our classmate’s passing and something else about a legal curfew being set in place.

as we enter the room, it’s completely quiet. other than small murmurs of students having hushed conversations with one another. jayde and i walk down a few steps until we find a row of completely empty seats. we shuffle our way down the isle and sit down in red movie theater-like recliners.

the lights dim as the main stage light points at the teachers and faculty making their way to the stage, complete silence taking over the auditorium.

the echoing of the microphone ripples through the hushed crowd as the principal taps on it repeatedly to make sure it’s operating properly. “good morning. before we begin, i would just like to-” she begins.

my attention from her is cut off as i feel a new presence to my right, my head turning slightly as i look beside me.

matthew sturniolo. as well as who im guessing is christopher and the other one. matthew taking the seat beside me, christopher in the middle and the other one beside him. i guess my staring lasted longer than i thought when i feel a nudge to my elbow resting on the armrest.

“can i help you?” his rough voice asks as i look up to him.

my mouth goes dry as i begin to try to speak. “i..um..” i shake my head in disbelief at my own attempt of keeping it cool. i haven’t looked at him this close up before. the bright glow of the spotlight sculpting his features so well. the light being away from us creating the perfect contrast of shadows projecting on to his face-

“hello?” his hand waves in front of my face, knocking me out of my staring.

i quickly blink my eyes nervously, “um i’m so sorry i just kind of went away there for a moment-um. yeah. okay.” my words ramble out of my mouth like word vomit as i whip my head back to facing the stage in front of me.

i take a glance at him through my peripheral as i see him slowly nodding his head. “alright then.”

“carla mays will be greatly missed.” i hear as i tune the principals voice back in. “now, onto the city wide curfew. due to the amount of..animal attacks in the last couple of days, mayor whitlock has decided to put a curfew for everyone. all shops and restaurants will be closed at eight p.m on the dot. you should not be outside any of the hours from eight at night to seven in the morning. if you are seen in public between any of those house, you will be arrested.” she claps her hands together as she closes off her statements. “now everyone, get to class and be safe.”

the students in the auditorium swiftly began leaving just as they arrived. rows emptying one by one as everyone makes their way to their first period class.

jayde and i begin our own path to exiting the room, as we enter the hallway we part ways to our own classrooms.

walking down the narrow hallway filled with students hurrying to make it to their rooms on time, i hear a distinct pair of boots, the sound closer and closer to me until they’re right beside me.

“hey.”

i hear as i look up to my left, matthew walking right beside me. “oh, hey.” i respond, looking back in front of me getting closer and closer to our destination.

the sound of him clearing his throat very audible next to me. “i’m sorry if it was weird to sit next to you, there were no open seats.” he says as he reaches his hand out, “i’m matt.”

i pause for a moment before ultimately taking his hand, giving it a small shake. “i’m y/n.” i give him a soft smile. “and no it’s okay.”

he shoots me a small grin as he retrieves his hand from mine. we silently continue our way until we get to the classroom, eventually taking our seats.

-

after hours and hours of uninteresting work, the school bell finally went off in the middle of math, signaling that it was finally time for lunch.

“about time, i’m literally starving.” jayde complains as we sit at a circle table in the corner of the cafeteria.

i shake my head with a small laugh as i take a bite out of the sandwich i had packed in a lunch bag earlier this morning.

i look around the lunchroom, the sound of conversations overlapping each other and people walking around filling the room. i look at each table until i find one with three people who all have the same face. i still get get over the curiosity that flows through me over where they have come from and why no one has heard of anyone having the last name they have for years. until i catch one specific pair of eyes, matt’s eyes.

a small smirk of acknowledgment takes over his features as he catches me staring, once again. i nervously raise my hand, giving him a small wave as i turn my attention back to whatever jayde’s rambling on about.

“and so i told him it was such a stupid idea to throw a party tonight.” she continues whatever rant she had been going on about for however long she has been. “but it’s whatever because we’re going tonight.”

“wait what?” i quickly question. “no party’s aren’t my scene.” i say, shutting it down as i take a sip of my mountain dew.

which causes her to grown in annoyance. “come on y/n. you’re only young once and you haven’t experienced a high school party yet.” as she looks at me i can see the gears turning in her brain. “okay how about this, we go. but if you decide you don’t wanna be there while we are there, then we can go home. but you have to give it a chance.” she attempts at compromising.

i sit there quietly as i decide on whether or not i should. i haven’t ever been to a highschool party, i’m the one who sits at home on saturday nights while everyone is out doing their thing. i tap my finger against the white top of the table as i figure out my choices. before ultimately deciding -

“fine.”

the loud squeals of jayde’s excitement being the only thing my hearing can focus on as she quickly claps her hands together. “tonight is gonna be so much fun!”

a/n : kinda ass chapter highkey but we had some matt dialogue ! lmk if you actually like this or wanna be tagged :)

[darknight3904]

Every Breath You Take

Chapter Six- Good Vibrations

Summary: A prepper restores your little group's faith in humanity, and you and Tommy decide to spend your evening celebrating in bed together.

Warnings for this part: Canon typical violence, themes, language, gore, and horror. Smut 18+, use of a sex toy, p in v, oralF!receiving ,riding Tommy Miller like a horse (as nature intended, ofc). Check the Series Masterlist for expanded warnings.

Word Count 3.6K

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / The Last of Us Masterlist

April 2005, Allensville, Pennsylvania 

Robin Williams once said, “Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'". And sure, there wasn’t much to celebrate these days, but right now you felt like you were on top of the world. With the snow gone, your little group had set out to canvas some of the other homes that were within a few-mile radius. An unassuming, puke green home was the last one for the day, you were all tired, and the baby was getting restless in his sling, a scarf that Lara held him with. You’re pretty sure all the kid wants is to be held, since he hasn’t cried once since she put him in there this morning. 

Joel pried the front door open with a crowbar, and you expected to see what you’d been seeing: an abandoned home, a few odd cans of food, and dusty clothes. Instead, you’re met with a gold mine. 

A prepper. A fucking prepper lived in this home. 

You could cry right now, break down, and never get up as you held a can of Campbell’s tomato soup in your hands. Even Joel looks surprised as he takes in the abundance of things. Perfectly organized in different bins and labeled bags, you swore you were seeing things. 

Tommy lets out a low whistle, his hands running over a huge box of ammunition, “How the hell are we gonna carry all this back?” 

“We’ll figure it out.” You hum, walking over to where he stands, handing him a jar of peanut butter, “How long has it been since you had a spoonful of peanut butter?” 

A chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his dark facial hair tickling your face as he pulls away, “Too damn long.” 

Joel approaches the two of you, Tommy’s hands loosening from where they wrap around your waist to take the box Joel holds out. 

Trojan Ultra Thins Value Pack! 36 Count!

Your face goes hot in embarrassment as Tommy chokes on his spit, taking the box and quietly thanking Joel. 

“There’s a whole box of ‘em, can’t have any more babies running around,” Joel mumbles before walking off to survey the many bins of canned foods you now have. 

Tommy turns to you, a sly look on his face, “Guess we better start working our way through these, huh, hot stuff.”

For added measure, he wiggles his eyebrows, shaking the box in front of you as you roll your eyes. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

A loud gasp from Lara has all of you turning to look at the girl. She’s staring into a duffle bag, her hands shaking as she pulls a container out. As usual, she’s wordless, but she does do you all the courtesy of turning the can towards you, Similac Baby Formula. 

“I could kiss the fucker who hoarded all this to himself.” Tommy declares, a smile on his face, as Lara shows the baby the many cans of food. 

“You’re a really strange guy..” You poke his side 

“Yeah, I am.” He proudly accepts your tease, poking you right back. 

Joel claps his brother on the back, a loud smack resounding through the room, “Quit flirtin' with your girl, there’s a car parked out back, let’s go see if we can get it running.” 

Joel and Tommy disappear into the backyard, where a shed and hopefully a working car await them. You cross the room to Lara, who is trying to pick through the baby stuff, her boy letting out little grunts of discontent. 

“I can hold the baby while you look.” You offer. 

Lara had begun letting you hold her child recently. You could tell she was still hesitant to really give him her all, instead letting you take care of the nurturing while she simply fed and changed him when he needed it. 

The baby, who still has no name, kicks his feet happily when you pull him from the sling after Lara nods to you. You sit on the floor with him, balancing him on your knee as he looks at his mother with big blue eyes. 

“You’ve got a buffet now.” You say to him, “All you can eat. There’s like at least forty cans of formula up there for you.” 

The baby blinks back at you, a gurgle leaving his lips as drool falls down onto the floor below him. Your eyes scan his appearance, he’d gotten chubbier in the past weeks, Lara having a steady diet of half your food meant more breastmilk. Now, his once loose onesie was looking a bit snug as he sat on your lap, staring at you and his mother. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go upstairs to see if there's something new for him to wear.” You say, perhaps this nameless prepper had also snagged some baby clothes. 

Lara waves you off, motioning for you to leave the kid on the floor. You hesitate for a second, technically you know he shouldn’t be left alone, afterall she isn’t going to watch him. But, he also couldn’t even crawl yet, he’d only accomplished sitting up recently. 

So, you left him on the carpet handing him a still closed bag of fruit to marvel over, its shiny packaging should have him enamored for at least twenty minutes. 

Upstairs is pretty boring, empty of things, it’s a simple two bedroom home, one of which was pretty much empty except for a box filled with old tax documents and a busted lamp. The furnished bedroom has a small full bed pushed up against one wall, a dilapidated nightstand beside it, holding a bottle of lotion and box of tissues. Gross. Guess whoever lived here was a dude. 

Clothing apparently wasn’t a top priority for this man, simple jeans and shirts lined his closet, a couple of sweatshirts and a big winter coat were shoved in the way back. The dresser drawers are pretty much the same deal, socks, underwear and a few pairs of well loved sweatpants. One t-shirt says “Best Dad Ever!” its faded and nearly falling apart A hazy memory of Joel wearing something like this came to mind, a fathers day many years ago, you had taken Sarah to the mall and both of you bought one for your dads, convincing them to wear them out at the same time had been a whole ordeal. 

You return the old shirt to its place in the drawer, something else catching your eye. A polaroid camera sits on a bookshelf, beside it a dusty picture of a woman, her long hair a tangled mess of dark curls. She smiles at you, her eyes crinkling as she lounges on the beach. You pick up the polaroid, the film counter reading that it still had four photos left. 

The loud sound of a thump has you rushing back down the steps, ducking your head through the camera so it dangles off your neck. Back in the living room, you find Lara, standing over a knocked-over box of old magazines, her eyes fixed on something at her feet. The baby remains where you left him, his hands slapping the bag of fruit like it’ll open for him like that.

You walk over to Lara, and at her feet is a fitness magazine, a young man poses, his arms confidently crossed, showing off tanned biceps as he smiles, his teeth an unnatural white. 

10 ways to lose that gut! Mike Leeds shares his secrets!

“You uh okay?” You ask her softly, the man’s sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes suspiciously match the baby’s, who sits a few feet from you.

Lara moves fast, faster than you’ve ever seen her move, even that day she jumped Tommy, she didn’t move this quickly. Grabbing Mike Leed’s magazine, you watch as she rips the cover off, proceeding to shred the entire thing into a thousand pieces at her feet, her chest heaving as she does. 

Fat tears begin falling down her freckled face as you watch with concern. You stare at the destroyed magazine for a moment then look back at her. Lara’s arms wrap around herself, and quiet sobs leave her lips as she stands there, her chest rising and falling abnormally. Before you can even think about it, you pull her into you, her wavy red hair tickling your nose as you hug her, her head resting on your shoulder. 

“Shhhh.” You soothe, “You’re alright. You’re safe…” 

You run a hand up and down her back, holding her tight as she cries. The baby stares up at the two of you, the bag of fruit still in his hands. 

The sound of the backdoor has you looking away from Lara for a moment, she’s still wrapped in your arms when Tommy enters. 

“Hey, Joel got the…What happened? Why’re we huggin’?” 

You wave him away, pointing at the door. Your boyfriend spins on his heel, a sigh escaping his lips as he goes. Lara pulls away from you after she hears the back door swing shut again, wiping at her red eyes as she bends down to pick the baby back up. She moves to grab the bag of formula cans, her hand brushing yours as she moves. 

“Hey, you ever wanna talk about it, let me know, okay?” You prompt wishing she’d make eye contact. All you get is a soft grunt from her as she walks off, the baby humming as he stares at you from over her shoulder. 

It takes the rest of the day to get everything from the puke green home to your little blue one that’s only four miles away. Joel and Tommy do a lot of the heavy lifting, loading shit up in wheelbarrows and tossing it into the Toyota 4Runner they had resurrected. Some of the most exciting things consisted of more batteries, about a million packs of toilet paper, the formula, and of course the seemingly endless canned goods and bags of rice. Oh, and the seven boxes of condoms, that was cool too.  By the end of the day the kitchen and attic of your home looked just like the preppers did, although you were actually going to get some use out of it all. 

“What do you think happened to the guy who owned all this shit?” You ask as the four of you slurp up cans of beef ravioli from your new favorite man, Chef Boyardee. 

“Ah well…” Tommy scratches his head, staring at Joel who shrugs in return from his spot across the room in the wooden rocking chair. 

“What?” You ask cluelessly, knocking your knee against Tommy’s as the two of you sit on the sofa together 

Lara spins around, she’s sitting at the kitchen table, her notebook in hand, baby at her feet, a bottle in his hands, the nipple stuffed in his mouth. Her spindly hand writing stands out against the paper. 

Tell us

“He was layin’ out in the shed, all decomposed and shit,” Tommy says

“What, like he killed himself?” You ask 

“Nah, we think he slipped and fell. There’s this big stack of cinder blocks out there, he was layin’ next to one that was all bloody. Probably tripped on his untied shoelaces.” Joel chimes in before Tommy can speak again. 

“Oh.” You say, thinking of the best dad ever shirt and the dusty photo of the woman on his bookshelf. You’re a bit sad for this stranger, tripping and bashing his head open, no one in his home to rush to his side to save him. 

After dinner, Tommy helps Joel unload the last car full of stuff from the man’s home. Arguably, this might be the most important of them all, the weapons. There’s a decent pile of about 10 new guns in your house now, plus seven big boxes of ammunition to go with them. Joel says it should last well over two years of hunting, as long as no big groups of people or infected find you out here. 

That night, you lay in bed, safely tucked away from the world and stomach full, your eyes should flutter shut. Instead, you squirm around on the mattress, Tommy’s figure beside you, his light snores filling the room as you try to sleep. 

You turn on your side, pulling open the drawer of your nightstand. A few months ago, when you’d gotten settled here, you tossed a few miscellaneous items into the drawer, not really bothering with them until now. Over a year ago, you’d found a still packaged vibrator in the drawer of a home you, Tommy, and Joel had stopped in. Of course, you didn’t have any batteries for the damn thing so it sat forgotten at the bottom of your backpack. Now, thanks to the nameless prepper, there was an overabundance of triple-A’s, enough that you’d been able to sneak two of them into your pocket without Joel taking note earlier. 

A soft hum filled your ears as you clicked the toy on, softly sighing as it met the delicate flesh between your legs. You press the button again and a noise leaves your lips, your hips canting up towards the soft silicone as you rub your clit. You’d always had a hard time getting off yourself, your fingers never hitting the right spots to get it done. 

Since you’d gotten together with Tommy, self pleasure hadn’t been necessarily needed. You’d probably been overactive while living at the cabin but recently not so much. The past few weeks had been spent busy trying to survive, rationing and trying to catch licks of sleep when the baby wasn’t crying. This left you with very few moments for lust would take over, resulting in the lack of lying next to him, breathless and sweaty, between damp sheets. 

To put it bluntly, you were needy. You missed the regular feeling of Tommy in you, pleasing you til’ the sun came up some days. You bring your spare hand up your shirt, gently tweaking your nipples as another quiet whimper escapes your lips when you bump the toy’s settings to go higher. Fuck, you were close, you were so damn sensitive just a little bit more…

“What the fuckr’ you doin?” 

“Nothing!” You gasp, regretfully ripping the toy away from your body, clicking it twice to turn it off 

Tommy shifts a click being heard before light floods the room from the lantern he kept on his own nightstand. A squeal leaves your lips when he pulls the covers partly off you, staring between your legs at the discarded toy, a harsh, bright pink that stands out from the light green sheets that were on your bed. 

Tommy reaches between you, careful not to touch your aching center as he picks up your contraband, rolling the small bullet vibe between his fingers as he stares at it in the light. 

“This is why you took those batteries? To power up a sex toy?” 

You squirm guiltily on the soft mattress, perhaps you hadn’t been as discreet as you thought you were, “No…” 

Tommy’s brows shoot up at your blatant lie, an amused smile working its way across his face. “Yeah, alright.” 

“Quit embarrassing me, go back to bed so I can finish.” You say, plucking the toy from his big hands. 

A quiet chuckle escapes Tommy’s lips as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek, “Nah, think I’ll stay awake. Besides, clearly I’ve been neglecting my girl if you’re stealing precious batteries.”

“But aren’t you tired? You helped unload all those boxes of supplies today.” You softly say 

Tommy slots himself between your thighs, pushing your shirt up so your navel is exposed, he presses kisses to the skin, slowly leading down to where you want him the most, “Never too tired for you, darlin’.” 

He leans back down, a trail of kisses pressed to your skin as he finishes his path with a kiss to the bundle of nerves between your legs, already raw and sensitive from earlier. 

“Quit teasing me.” You mumble, hands fisted in the sheets 

“Yeah, yeah, needy girl.” Tommy waves you off, his hand reaching for the toy that lays in the sheets, “It seems like I have some competition, wanna tell me who’s better?” 

You scoff and roll your eyes, men and their egos, “Well, the toy doesn’t talk back, so…” 

“Oh, so it’s like that?” Tommy asks 

“It’s like that.” You confirm arrogantly 

“We’ll see about that then…” 

Twenty minutes later, you’re strung out, your bottom lip is probably bleeding from how roughly you’re biting down on it. Tommy has a big hand splayed across your middle, you wrap your own hand around it, squeezing tightly. He’s been alternating between his tongue and the bullet vibe, always switching off when you were close, laughing into your cunt whenever you’d quietly whine in protest. 

“Let me cum…” You tiredly mumble 

Tommy pulls away from you, a nip of his teeth have you yelping when they brush your soft folds. 

“Think you deserve it?” 

“Yes.” You huff 

“Dunno…you seemed pretty eager to get off on a piece of rubber. Why don’t you try asking nicely?” He asks, a thumb gently running across your thigh. 

This fucking guy. You were so going to kill him when this was over. You tug on Tommy’s arm, feigning a pout as you pull him up towards your face, his dark eyes roaming yours as he moves for you. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned 

Before he can ask you again, you catch him off guard, flipping the two of you around so his back is on the mattress. A grunt leaves his lips as you clamor on top of him, determined to get your release. Pushing his underwear down, you sigh loudly when the warm skin of his cock touches your soaked hole. 

“Fuck, wait, wait!” Tommy groans 

You freeze, worried you’d overstepped and that he wanted to stop, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-I’ll get off you.” 

One of his hands flies to your hips, keeping you above him, “Just needed to grab one of these.” 

You glance down to where a small silver square sits in his hand, a condom from the box Joel had shoved into his arms earlier today. Tommy rolls it on with practiced motions as you watch. 

“Condom number one is officially in use.” He declares proudly

“You’re fucking weird.” You comment 

“You lov-ahh fuck…”

Tommy’s mouth snaps shut as you sink down on him for the first time in two and a half weeks. His name falls from your lips as you desperately try to keep quiet, your hips immediately beginning to rise and fall while he grunts below you. You’re utterly wrecked as you roughly roll your hips down into his, reveling in the friction from his pubes on your clit. Tommy’s whispered, frantic voice fills your ears as slick noises leave where the two of you are connected.

“S-Slow down, M’ not gonna-Fuck!” 

You lean down, slamming your lips into Tommy’s as he brushes a sensitive spot inside you, your cunt clenching as it does. 

“Mmm you feel so fucking good.” You mumble into his lips, drunk on him 

Straightening back up, you continue your movements, tasting blood as you bite down on your bottom lip when Tommy’s hands run up your body and under your shirt to your soft chest. 

Tommy’s back raises slightly from the bed, his hands falling to your hips, slowing your motions down exponentially, a quiet whine leaving your lips. 

“Not, fuck, gonna last like this, you’re killin’ me here.” 

Your hands land on his still clothed torso, nails biting through the fabric as he winces. You gently push him back down, no real malice behind it, if he wanted to he could toss you off him at any second. 

A chuckle leaves his lips as you stare down at him, silently pleading for him to just stay put. 

“Alright, you win.” He concedes 

Rough hands resume their place on your waist, squeezing as you stifle your moans, wishing that the two of you were alone in this damn house. 

“Good fucking girl,” He groans, knowing how you love it when he says that. Tommy’s hand falls off you, searching the bed sheets for something. 

Your lust riddled brain barely registers as he finds the vibrator, you only react when he places it on your needy clit. Your mouth opens to scream just as Tommy places his hand across your mouth, sitting up as he muffles the cry. 

“Fuck, Fuck..Cum for me.” He mutters into your neck, sucking at the soft skin there 

A muffled moan escapes his hand as you stare at him, too fucked out to really speak. 

“C’mon darlin’, use me, let me feel it.” 

Three more rolls of your hips and then you’re gone, shaking above him as the toy’s soft hum fills the room. Tommy grunts below you, spilling into the condom as he brings his lips to yours, his hips jerking with erratic movements. 

Tommy rests his head in the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

“You almost killed me, girl.” He smiles dopily up at you as you press a kiss to his damp forehead, “Damn near lost my mind with you on top like that.” 

“Mmm, good.” You giggle, his nose brushing your chin 

Tommy wraps his arms around you, holding you close as the two of you come down, sweaty skin sticking to your t-shirts. You’ll have to boil water for a bath tomorrow, perhaps he’ll even join you if you beg hard enough. 

“Remind me to never neglect you in the bedroom again.” Tommy says 

A laugh escapes your lips, kissing him as you lean into his touch. 

“Seriously, I think you just stole a piece of my soul back there. It’s probably trapped in the condom or something.” 

You laugh, climbing out of his lap, falling into the messy sheets, pulling the covers up your body, “You’re so fucking weird, Tommy.” 

Next Part- Coming Soon

I really need to eat more vegetables and fruits. I'm gonna end up with scurvy or something crazy one of these days.

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter; I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@freythecrazyfae @rae-gar-targaryen @keseqna @eniepascal @jakecockley @aphroditesblunt @soberbabes @daisyhams

[chaggie4ever]

Preface for upcoming multi-part fic: Fallen Wings

Hi there! Thank you for taking the time to read my very first fanfiction period! I've been lurking on AO3 and Tumblr for some time now devouring people's works. There are far too many for me to list here but between my obsession with this fandom and Chaggie, and inspiration from these works, here I am! This is quite the ambitious project that I have been planning out for the better part of 2025, currently planned to be seven lengthy parts. I am very busy with work but hope to put each part out all together for binge-reading as this is clearly the way we consume media these days and I myself search for completed works typically :)

This is obviously an adult cartoon made for adults, but children that have slipped through please skip this one. There will be blood and gore and language and LOTS of explicit sex. I will allude to nonconsensual mostly, with a few more written out parts because it is important to the plot. I was originally just going to write a bunch of smut one-shots but then came to think how my girl Vaggie is neglected in the fandom and while many works have remedied this, none have gone quite the direction I envisioned. I have lots of analysis of her on my Tumblr too if you're interested. I've never been quite this obsessed with a fictional character before so this is largely how I'm trying to work that out of my system. So there will absolutely be smut but we have to do some world building and actual plot first. I'm also trying to stick to some biblical stuff verbatim and challenge as much as I can as a "born again ex-evangelical" Unitarian Universalist.

I have a whole outline on where I want to go with this project, titled Fallen Wings as a whole with part 1 Before the Fall, Part 2 After the Fall, Part 3 season 1, Part 4 Post-Exorcisms, Part 5 Princesses of Hell, Part 6 Defense of Hell, and Part 7 Revelations as the working titles. I will focus on my headcannon of Luggie (Vaggie+Lute) for part 1, then Chaggie after this. All events from season 1 are cannon for this story, and part 4 onward may have some spoilers from season 2 leaks and eventually may diverge from the real series as I write faster than they do :) No there will not be poly. I am in a happy monogamous very gay marriage with my own wife and this is what I'm most comfortable writing. I will sprinkle other LGBTQIA stuff in and hope to more fully develop all of the main characters as well but it will mostly be from Vaggie's perspective with some Lute and Charlie. Main ships will be Chaggie and Huskerdust. Still deciding if I want Radioapple or to actually respect his Ace cannon.. They are just kinda perfect together but I also like Lucilith so we'll see.

I have a military background myself and am a psychiatrist so there will be some shameless Prozac scripts for the characters who need it and some deep delve into trauma and emotional and physical and sexual abuse because this is my jam. I will also try to put warnings for noncon and some trauma stuff ahead of time so that those who need to can skip those parts and still enjoy the work :) I tend to write sardonically and sarcastically, and my own political and religious views will likely become obvious, but I hope to capture as many aspects as I can of each character to fully flesh them out.

Also if you find the first few chapters less interesting please persist through! These are written a tad differently than my normal style for world-building and historical stuff (chapter 2-3), but I promise you will get to the smut (ch7) and actual dialogue (ch4) and hopefully some funny bits :) I'll try to sprinkle in my favorite fanart/scenes and songs that make me think of the characters as well (the link is the credit). Each title is based on a song that fits the theme of the chapter, with lyrics at the end.

Anyway, enough of my monologue and thank you again for reading! Please comment/subscribe! I take praise and criticism shamelessly :) I have the same name on Tumblr as well.

[f1nalboys]

Wall Of Photos - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x Fem!Reader

started as a sick little smut and then ended up all sick no smut so. sorry? anyways enjoy Bo making you pick a photo from the wall to recreate <3

WORD COUNT: 1165

WARNINGS: dark, death mention, blood and slight gore/viscera mentions?, bo's polaroid wall is the main focal point, photos of past victims described (not-correct shibari and chair being used, photos taken of creampies, etc), mention of past victims. reader has such intense stockholm syndrome and they just dont know it, bo gets off on the photos, weird metaphorical nonsense and just nonsense in general? real freak behavior from me, dark, alludes to past abuse from bo, reader sorta kinda helps (or ignores) the killings and is jealous of people that get bo's attention, alludes to reader death and them being perfectly content with it, polaroid wall is a vigil of sorts so religious stuff? the town and bo are one fr. proofread but i am dumb so....pls let me know if i forgot to tag something!!! it was kind of hard figuring out what needed a warning and what didn't

He steadies you, arms around your waist, his front pressed against your back. He smells like Marlboro Reds, cheap beer, cologne, and blood. It’s more comforting now that it was in the beginning. His smell had long faded from the stench of death that seemed to cling to him; you realized it was this town that the smell clung to, not him, sinking its claws into every crack of the road and every crevice in the maggot-filled buildings. 

“So,” he purrs into your ear, breath hot against your skin. He was always so warm, whether that be his breath or his skin or his words, red hot, hot enough to scald you if you weren’t careful. You were far from careful now, your mind still in the chair a few feet behind you. It hadn’t left even when he had let you out of it months ago. You couldn’t feel your feet but you could feel his arms around you, his fingerprints embedding themselves into your skin like his knife used to. “Which do you like?”

You blink, trying to focus your vision. “Which… do I like?” You repeat and he hums. He’s swaying behind you, with you, like you’re dancing to some tune only he can hear in his head. Maybe the wedding march, maybe something from his youth, maybe his mothers voice. It’s all the same to him. He has you in front of the polaroid wall. “These are…” You don’t finish your sentence, swallowing thickly. Your mouth is dry. 

You can feel the smile on his cracked lips.

Dozens of people, all dead now, all exposed on his wall. He’s in some of them, sometimes his hand, other times his cock, a few of his face, but most of them the person is alone. They’re tied up, either strapped to the chair with duct tape or suspended from the ceiling in a mock shibari style. They’re on their knees, tear streaks and blood covering their faces. Most aren’t looking at the camera, but some are. You try to imagine what they had done to deserve that, to deserve Bo’s voice telling them to smile real pretty for the camera. 

You ignore the jealousy.

“Pick. Whichever one you like, we’ll do.” A choice. He’s giving you a choice, something that had been stripped from you the moment you got to town, maybe long before that. Maybe you never had a choice to begin with. All roads lead to Ambrose. He reaches past you and taps a dirt-covered finger against a photo of a woman on her back, her legs spread, her face tilted to the side in embarrassment. The flash is bright but her cunt is the focal point, not her. She wasn’t what he was looking at, he was looking at what he had done to her, what was leaking from her. Him. The photo was of him. “This one’s my favorite. Ain’t that a pretty sight…”

Bo sighs as he relieves the memory then and there behind you. You feel his hips jut forward ever so slightly, grinding against your back. He was getting hard. “What was her name?” You ask and Bo scoffs, his movements stalling. 

“Fuck if I remember. Why? You jealous of her or something, darlin’?”

“No.”

“No? You suddenly feel bad for ‘em all, is that it?” His voice is sweet like the honey you had watched him slather onto your toast this morning. The sharpness doesn’t evade you and you think of the knife he had used. Steel and honey, honey and steel. One and the same when it came to him. “Didn’t feel all that bad when we had that other girl come into town, now did you?” His hand breaches your shirt, sliding up your stomach to your tits. 

Bo grabs at you roughly, keeping his voice level even when you squeak, struggling against him slightly. Not enough for him to worry; you knew better than that. “No.” It’s true. When she had rolled into town, you hadn’t tried to warn her. You hadn’t done anything, in fact. Just watched while she endured what you did. She wasn’t special. Not like you, not like how Bo treated you. A play thing was just that; a thing. You were something to Bo, and that was enough. 

“Now pick or I’m pickin’ for ya.” 

Blindly, you reach forwards and tap one of the photos. It’s an older photo, long before you, and the girl was smiling. She was on her back in Bo’s bedroom, you knew from the sheets, legs spread with him slotted in between. “This one.” You wonder if this was the first. If this is the girl he’s been chasing all these years, if this is who had started it all. Your stomach twists at the thought of Bo loving someone other than you.

“Good choice, sweetheart.” He drawls, placing a soft kiss to your neck. Your body relaxes at the feeling, at the rare praise, and he knows your putty in his hand. How could you not be? His hand falls out from under your shirt. “We’re gonna head on up there, alright? Let me grab the camera.”

You turn around when he takes a step back from you but you don’t dare move forwards. He grabs the polaroid off of the shelf, checking for film. In another world, the sight would give you butterflies. You can feel them stirring in your gut regardless. “Why do you keep the wall?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself and Bo looks up at you, eyebrow raised. “You never look at it. What is it for?” 

He bares his teeth into a grin. They’re white but they should be red, covered in red, blood from the sheep you are, the poor animal caught in the trap of his smile. “It’s a vigil. You think I just take, right? That I don’t give? I mourn them,” he steps forward slowly so as not to startle you. You wouldn’t move even if you could. The girl in his bed was you now and you were going to be added to the wall, another ghost in the town, another warning no one would be able to heed. Had she thought of Bo the way you did? Had she looked at him and felt a twisted love, a sick and festering commitment to the very end? “I’ll mourn you, when it’s time.”

You nod, letting him place his hands on your cheeks. You’re not crying. He didn’t expect you to. “And I’ll mourn you, Bo.”

“I’m sure you will.” He kisses you and you can taste the blood in his mouth. It’s yours, it's the people behind you stuck in a photograph, it's his mother and father and brothers. It’s his. It’s the town, filled with blood and bile and sickness and rot. He pulls away. “Let’s go on up to the house.” He grabs a wrench on his way out, your hand in his.

You follow.

[mushies-stories]

Not leaving this one behind

Slasher!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley X F!Reader

summary: Simon moved to America after retiring and had taken up serial killing and stuff and you caught his eye. Simons been realizing some things about himself and he's sure your just what he needs.

warning: murder, gore, smut, pnv, kidnapping, more to be added as i go

Author's notes: so I've not been writing for like ever, but this i just couldn't stop writing. here a little snippet of the set up and what's to come. chapter one is written and ill be revising it tomorrow then it will be posted!

Also happy Halloween for those who care! This is my contribution this season 💜

Full chapter one

prologue

Simon felt a little incomplete. Like his hunt wasn't finished, or it just hadn’t satisfied him enough. Lately he’s been feeling lonely, like killing isn't enough anymore and he's coming to realize that that loneliness is the reason he’s been leaving survivors every once in a while. 

He seems to be developing a ‘type’ some would say as well. When he encounters them he likes the thought of them staying alive to remember him, like he will remember them. Their adorable faces when they cried to him and begged for their lives. Hearing their sweet shaky little voices while their bodies shook in his hold. Seeing how devastated they are when he leaves them alive surrounded by the horrors of their dead friends. 

This last group was just a bunch of highschool football players drunk and being idiots. Not very inspiring. 

The universe must be twisted however.

Here Simon is, on his long drive home from a weekend of hunting and killing only to come across another group at a small dingy rest step. Your group pulled in a few minutes after him while he was filling his tank up and caught his attention the moment he saw a couple dumb guys hopped out of the Rv and two giggling girls followed behind. 

Overall the group looked like your usual unimpressive lot. At least that's what he was about to conclude with, until one of the other girls turned back and called out for someone. 

“Y/N? What are you waiting for, don't you want some snacks?” She asks. 

“Yeah! Sorry, I just wanted to finish this chapter, I'm coming!” Simon's interest then peaked once his eyes were on you. Your knee length skirt swayed around you and you looked cozy in your oversized cardigan. You glanced around a little and in doing so you caught Simon's gaze. He didn't flinch or look away, instead he gave you a short nod. You returned the gesture with a small sweet smile and a little nod of your own before heading after your friends.

He figured you'd wouldn't be as welcoming at the sight of as you were. He had a good amount of height against you and body mass. Half his face being covered by a mask is what really always gets people though. Big and scary described him perfectly.

This was not a group you seemed to fit into based on looks alone he noticed. You just seemed too sweet and nice to hang around a group like this. Or maybe they just looked worse then they all were, maybe Simons had been hunting these kinds of people for so long he was stereotyping them as such a group. 

Either way it doesn't matter, it was because of you the outcome had been decided. The moment Simon's eyes landed on you and saw that sweet little smile of yours he knew. He will follow you to whatever cabin or campsite or whatever and make sure to give you a night you’ll never forget.

With his mind made up he quickly checked his duffle bag for a tracker, if you weren’t staying in a cabin and got off grid it would be able to track you no matter what. The way the RV was parked it wasn’t hard to just place it under the front bumper without being noticed, then he was hopping back in his truck. Simon waits for just one more glance of you as you exit the rest stop, snacks and drinks in your arms and a bright adorable smile on your face.

He followed a few miles behind the whole drive and parked his truck five miles out. You ended up going pretty far off the normal map to an almost completely secluded area of the woods. Thing was it was also fall in the northern america and it's not always that populated this time of year so you happen to be the only people camping out this far currently. 

Simon couldn't believe how perfect these conditions seemed to have ended up for him. These things after all are always done best in the dead of night, and in these woods? Simon couldn't think of a better hunting ground. Now all he had to do was wait.

~thanks for reading~