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rippersz · 9 months ago

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𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Zombie Apocalypse AU w/ Gwendoline Christie characters; (~9.2K words)

(Featuring: Larissa Weems, Brienne of Tarth, Jane Murdstone, Anna from WTM, Lucifer Morningstar, Miranda Hilmarson, Captain Phasma, and Jan Stevens) x Reader

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It started about two months ago. Russia went down first, then Mongolia. China. India. And in the midst, Finland, Sweden, Norway, the United Kingdom, down to the very southern tip of Africa. The Ocean is no killer of disease, frozen or not, and encouraged it to ravage South and North America, then Canada and Greenland. Until every place was overrun by dead freaks. Stinking corpses and moving gore.

They traveled in herds, packs, whatever it was that people wanted to call them—murders, perhaps—and shuffled aimlessly across any land they could find. Eager for food, for sustenance, to fill the empty bellies that would never be full. Gorging themselves on creatures like you.

Officially ‘the other’. Officially ‘the enemy’. The sole survivor of a good group that was attacked some days ago because an idiot forgot to shoot one of the creatures in the head. And by sunrise, it was over. Screams echoed into the silence and you soon found yourself alone… running for your life with a duffle bag over your shoulder (slowing you down) and a gun in your hand (low on ammo). Trekking through thick woods in a heavily-infested Vermont town was not a good idea, but you had no choice. The house you were camping in was left behind, ravaged by bullets that you put into your friend’s heads, and every other spot nearby had been looted. You couldn’t move all of those bodies yourself. You couldn’t do much yourself. There was no army background attached to your name, no conspiracy theorist survival-obsessed gene in your body, and not much training in fighting either. All you could do was run. Run and run and run until you were miles away and your lungs started to burn. Not the most useful skill considering most people could run, but if you were quick enough to speed past the shuffling bastards, you were quick enough to make it to safety.

—

Safety…what a joke. A shit joke. A joke that was, quite honestly, the worst joke to ever exist. There was no safety. No place, nowhere. You’d been walking for a few hours, hearing nothing but the forest’s silence, and stumbling over leaves and branches. They ravaged the animals, took them into their mouths like they were people, and ate until there was nothing left. Not even a squirrel, or a fox, and the birds had grown weary of the vast number of hunters (both dead and undead) that found themselves in the woods looking for food. So no birds either. And no houses. And you were pretty sure, as you paused to catch your breath, that you were doomed.

Only a few bullets left and your aim was never perfect. One knife tucked into your waistband but it was getting uncomfortable, digging into your skin, and caked in blood. Creature blood. Everything smelled horrible. Like burning flesh or dirty meat, raw and soiled. You probably didn’t smell too good either. It wasn’t like the world still worked without the people; only a few places had running water and you couldn’t trust the creeks and rivers. The undead enjoyed walking through shallow water, knowing somehow that there’d probably be prey nearby.

But you hadn’t seen anything in a while. A long while. A suspiciously long while...

Everything was green and brown around you, whisked by wind and soil, and you stood out like blood against snow. The last thing you saw was yesterday. Ever since? Not a single flash of undead flesh.

You swallowed, throat embarrassingly dry, and tapped your fingers against your thigh.

It wasn’t good when everything was still. You were vulnerable, out in the open, and without a good few rounds of bullets to spare. Every muscle and organ in your body screamed for mercy, crying with the effort it took to keep surviving even when you didn’t want to.

You thought about it a few times; gave the gun in your hand a long look on several occasions, but ultimately decided that ‘opting out’ was only a last resort. Somehow, even amidst the chaos and hatred and swill of humanity’s nature, you managed to hold hope. And often wondered where it would get you. How it would get you. While you were sleeping? While you were already wounded? Fighting off the hands of a loved one? The twist of hope’s rope… would you feel it closing in around your neck? A literal metaphor for the eventual death you’d experience?

Thinking about it gave you a headache.

For where was the point in wondering?

You had no one else. Whatever form of death awaited, it would end up being your fault. Probably because you couldn’t run fast enough. Probably because-

Because-

Wait.

Somewhere behind you, on the right, was a low sound. A hum. The smooth whoosh of something quick. The parting of wind… the low growl of…

“Fuck.”

You shot off in that direction, bag smacking against your shoulder blades, and instantly felt the exhaustion pull at your body again. It lingered like a plague, like the undead disease, and you yearned to fall to your knees - to give in - but it wasn’t the time for that. You had to at least try. You had to at least make it over the hill. Right over the hill. So close but so far. You leaned forward, threw yourself at the ground, and grasped onto gnarled tree roots. The Earth smelled wet with decay, sweet with promise - you huffed against dry leaves. They crunched and scratched at your fingers, eventually crinkling into nothing when your arms worked to drag you up. You probably looked a little mad, scrambling up a steep hill to reach something that probably won’t save you, but there was no other option. The hum grew louder, the quiet was broken, and you only had a few moments to get this right.

“Help!” Your lungs caved around your scream, but the forest swallowed it instantly. Greedy trees with their greedy barks, wanting to keep you hidden from salvation. The hum grew louder. Your fingers grew clammy, sweating and slipping against rough wood.

You’d be bruised to high heaven later, and probably exhausted, but the hum and the growl of an engine meant a road and a road meant civilization and goddammit you just needed to get over the stupid fucking hill.

There was a loud ringing in your ears, nearly deafening, and making your voice sound fuzzy.

“Help! Help!”

Was that you? Were you the one screaming like that? Why couldn’t you be quiet? Those things could have been lurking… wandering nearby… coming up behind you, eager to grasp at your ankles and drag you back down to Hell.

A glance back over your shoulder, aching from the duffle bag, found nothing but blurred terrain and darkened leaves–a symptom of the setting sun. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. If the light went out, you’d be screwed. You couldn’t use the last of your matches and the world went black when evening struck. So there really was no choice. As the growl turned into a roar… there was no choice. Just a little higher- a little more. Your arms pushed, biceps straining against the cotton of your shirt, and your pants threatened to get caught on wayward sticks and tear into rags. The boots on your feet pressed hard against loose rocks, kicking them out of place, and gained just enough ground to push you up - over the ridge. The final stretch. Your chest pushed to the hard dirt and forced a grunt of effort from your tired body; the sound echoed through the woods, through the ground, and through the air that sat above the concrete road in front of you. Hard and vast, grey and long… you looked at it as though it were the holiest of grails, lying just beside it with your arms outstretched, your fingers still pulling at dirtied grass. Soil covered your skin, masked your features, caked beneath your fingernails, and when the roar of the speeding vehicle grew so close you had to close your eyes and wince, you knew raising a hand for help would not be enough. In the shade of the forest’s edge, half draped over the peak of the hill, you were inhuman to other survivors. Your dry mouth opened, your throat croaked, and your legs moved to push you up–closer–just short of the wind that caressed your hair when the car, the truck, ran past you with no second glance. You looked after it, watched it pass, and felt the burn in your heart grow into its own inferno. It licked at your insides, at your desperation, and had you hauling the duffle bag off of your shoulder and out onto the road. It rolled, a shuffling sound, and you followed after it with deep growls of effort and dwindling strength.

“Please,” you wheezed, panting for breath as soon as you staggered up to your feet.

In the distance, the car turned into a disappearing black spec. It drove and drove, out of sight, and you stood there, putting your arms in the air to wave it down and bring it back. To beckon it back. To beg and plead.

“Please please no-,” your voice was soft, weakened by days of rugged survival, “no…” rough and lost to the wind, it dissipated into nothing and you were forced to swallow again.

The thick smell of car exhaust settled against the steaming road. You watched the horizon, tracking the space in the atmosphere where the gold traced into a deep blue, and felt your bones quake beneath your skin. Their final cry. The last hurrah as you watched your future, the tatters of it, drive away from you.

Too late.

You were too late.

And you’d die there, on that road, and they may never come back and find you again in the morning. And your corpse would be chewed upon by undead bastards who would never give you a proper burial. And you’d be just another stupid human that found themselves trampled beneath the stinking feet of the walking dead.

Tears teased your eyes, burning the dry lands of your irises, and you felt the heart in your chest lurch against its cage.

Too late.

You were too late.

You had a duffle bag, a handgun somewhere off to the side, and the clothing on your back. One lasting water bottle, the knife you felt poking your side, and small bags of food that wouldn’t last you long at all. The tent, too, was destroyed by animals the night before. The most you could go was perhaps one more day, but your feet were aching so terribly that each step was a journey within itself. And you couldn’t push yourself to go further. There was no further. There was nothing in the woods and there was nothing beyond the road and you were running on fumes that no longer existed.

But you couldn’t just lie there and take it. You were about to reach over, bending at the waist, to grab your bag. To pull it up over your shoulder and trek on, even though it was pointless. But something stopped you.

Something–a sound–made you freeze.

It was faint. It didn’t sound like the undead, with their discordant groans and disgusting squelches, no… it was far. Getting closer. Closer. The hum and the growl. The purr of a motor. The hiss of pavement.

Your head snapped up, eyes bulging wide as you looked over the horizon to see…. Yes. Yes! Yes, it’s them! The car! A grin pulled at your lips. Halle-fucking-lujah! You felt the anxiety ebb, slowly falling away from your body, as they got closer. The black spec turned into a black blob, then a figure that took shape, and finally you could make out a Vermont license plate and the dirt that stuck to big wheels. Up close, it was a sleek thing, tall and well-built. Midnight black and aside from the splatter on the rubbered wheels, it was polished and clean. The dark paint reflected the bright world around you, turning it into weird warped versions of a faux-paradise. You swallowed at the feel of warmth against your legs, the exhaust from the truck flooding over the smallest sliver of skin around your ankles. Suddenly fearing a changed mind and bad intentions, you stumbled back until your heels pushed against your bag.

Tinted windows stared down at you, menacing and opaque. Not a thing to see behind them, even if you squinted. Nothing moved, nothing jumped, and you watched with bated breath for a window to roll down - until finally, it did.

The driver’s side. It went whirr-ing down, sliding for the shortest period of time in the world until only a shadow met you - and then a flicker of movement. And then-

“Oh my god! Jesus! Okay okay!” You flinched, not even hesitating to raise your hands above your head. You spread your fingers out, desperate to prove your innocence to the stranger in the car. And the gun they were holding, pointing at you, through the gap.

“Were you bit?” A rough voice, muted and deep, broke the atmosphere.

You shook your head.

“Words. Use them.”

“No,” you licked your lips, instantly deciding to turn around in a slow circle. “Not bitten. Not scratched.” You tried to ignore the way your hands shook, even as you shifted all the way back to face the gun’s muzzle.

“Ask where…” a voice, soft and feminine, came from somewhere beyond the driver’s seat. It was saying something, telling something, but faded into a whisper so quiet you couldn’t hear a thing. Your eyes shifted to the dark backseat windows, trying to see something- anything- and found no surprise in the lack of life.

“Any weapons?” The driver seemed to ignore the other person, and instead held the gun steady. You watched it with weary eyes.

“Yes.” And before they could ask, you tugged the knife out of your belt and the gun out of your pants pocket. They were held up in the air, another white flag, and you twitched the hand that held the firearm. “At least three bullets left, but that’s it.”

“And the others?”

You blinked. “Others? What oth-”

“Where is the rest of your ammunition? In the skull of a human or scum?” The stranger spat, and you detected the hints of an accent.

Scum… you’d never heard them referred to as that before. Your last group called them walkers, and some others claimed flesh-eaters. You were tempted to use ‘zombies’, but it felt rather silly. The world took that term too lightly, and the undead were nothing if not a very serious problem. But scum? Like they were beneath humanity and not its current destroyer? You’d ask about it later, you decided, if they deemed you well enough to take in.

“Both,” you breathed honestly, dropping your weapons to your sides with a heavy sigh. “They um- weren’t quite there yet. Got ambushed overnight.”

The gun still didn’t move.

“They don’t ambush. What really happened?”

Hm. They weren’t wrong. Animated corpses didn’t ‘ambush’, but when a herd of them went lurking about, it certainly felt that way. You didn’t think logistics were entirely necessary, but you understood the need for specifics. Trust among men was eviscerated in the face of danger, especially against those once living. You’d seen paranoia before, in others. Humans simply didn’t take each other in anymore… not without some level of severe mistrust. The second thought after seeing the truck drive off was that you probably wouldn’t be accepted anyway - you’d killed without technical reason. Could have just left. Run away.

But you didn’t.

You didn’t want to see them turn into those… creatures.

So what else was there to say? You stared at the gun, willing a click and the shot of a bullet, as you opened your mouth.

“A herd. A lot of them. Just… descended upon the place. Someone might’ve been walking around in the woods or something, and there was just not enough protection,” you paused, licking your lips, “...I was the last one alive. Had to shoot them and go.”

“How long since?”

“Few days, give or take,” you shrugged. The exhaustion only built as you stood there, trying not to sway and collapse in your spot. The truck was still running, hissing hot exhaust; it was the first genuinely warm thing you’d felt in so many days that you wanted to crawl underneath and take a nap. The world, turning to autumn, was growing chilly. There was no chance you could survive winter on your own.

“...Give or take,” you heard the driver scoff and laugh, bitter and mean. You frowned.

Then the window started going up, and you couldn’t help yourself. With a hard thunk, you pushed your shoulder hard against the car, and knocked on the thick glass with the butt of the knife. A look of utter desperation crossed your features, heavy and thick. Urgency, anxiety, fear forced any sense from your mind. There was no chance. There was no survival at all.

“No please- please I can’t be out here alone please- I’m smart and- and I can run fast and be an asset. Please,” you shook your head, searching with worried eyes, “please, please you can’t do this to me-”

Something dark spliced through the corner of your vision, dragging a shadow with it, and you just barely dodged the sudden swing of the truck’s backseat door. It bounced with force and you glanced back at the driver’s window once before stepping back and hastily swinging your bag over your shoulder. The knife and gun were slipped back into your clothing, concealed, and you held yourself strong as the black leathered interior bore itself to the world.

“-we can’t just leave them-”

“-on’t be stupid. They could be a liability-”

“-not stupid. We need more people-”

Voices, at least two, were rushed and tangled in an argument. You didn’t pay much attention to what you could hear, though the growing irritation was hard to ignore. It would be a hassle to be accepted, you knew, but you’d deal. There was no choice. The backseat door was open and there was a figure hustled back against the other window.

“The offer won’t last,” the stranger murmured, somehow louder than the two people in the front seats, and you decided not to take any chances in the world alone.

With a grunt, a push, and a final slam of the door, you found yourself in the truck. Your bag was pushed down by your feet, you tugged your knife out to rest it on your thigh, and you turned to say thank you- but was cut off by a cold blade at your throat. It grazed the soft dirty skin, less than a centimeter away from pushing, and you felt saliva pool in the back of your throat. Swallowing would have pressed you closer, so you fought the urge and only stared.

“Woah-”

“Try anything and you die. I don’t want a peep, not a shuffle. Do I make myself clear?”

The driver’s voice, clearer in such close quarters, was deep and mean. Accent, as you had clocked, from somewhere in the United Kingdom. It held a natural growl, a gruffness from years of smoking, perhaps, and you couldn’t help but sense the intimidation. It wasn’t fake confidence, you noticed, as you looked up and met the cool sharp grey gaze of a woman. Her hair, a deep blonde, was slicked back and short, ruffled slightly by the nape of her neck. A long neck… that led to strong looking shoulders. They were half covered by a jacket, but you could see the strength in the chords of her muscle. A force to be reckoned with. A leader, perhaps. She was pale, with a defined nose and lips twisted into a permanent sneer, and you probably would have thought she had some potential for post-apocalyptic modeling, if it weren’t for the scar that covered one half of her face. Slashed across the left eye, the wound was jagged and rough - it dragged from a point close to the exact middle of her forehead, right to the corner of her jaw. Thicker at parts and thinner at others, it split through a pale eyebrow and seemed to have permanently rendered her blind. The lid didn’t even move when one stormy eye shifted, and you suddenly felt extremely creeped out. Something about her was undeniably cold. Almost reckless, but her hand was so steady with control you knew not to make a move. She’d probably kill without hesitation, dump you back into the road, and drive off with the duffel. There was no choice but to answer, answer quickly, and do as told.

“Yes, clear.” Your head shifted half an inch up and half an inch down, still cautious of the blade.

But she didn’t move.

It was a battle of wills for just a moment, with your hands in your lap, empty and docile. You weren’t looking for a fight, or a staring contest, but the stranger didn’t let up until the figure to your right decided to sit up and speak.

“Ah they do not seem so bad. Look at them. Tired and scared, like sad city mouse,” another woman, one with a Russian accent and a voice a hint too loud, cooed.

Silence followed, persisted, for only a minute- and then the blade was tugged back so quickly you swear it nearly cut the air in two. The driver tsked as she twisted herself around, murmuring as she went.

“More like a rat.”

And then you were thrown to the side with a heavy wheeze as the truck lurched and began moving, working into a turn so you could go back the way they’d come.

You glared at the back of the headrest, not feeling above a little bit of irritation for some poor handling, but eventually grew bored. With some apprehension, your eyes flicked over to the person in the passenger seat. Their profile was strong, feminine, and you noted the unbelievably well-kept head of snowy hair. She looked clean, just like the driver, and a spark of hope welled up in your tired heart. Running water and food existed where they came from, wherever they were camped out, and if you played your cards right, you could finally indulge in some good hygiene. Unless the woman in the passenger seat was stingy with her water… god her skin was so clear, and she seemed to be wearing makeup. No one wore makeup anymore. Not the people in your old group and not the few stragglers you’d stumbled across. It simply wasn’t a necessary luxury anymore, but the woman sitting across from you, back straight and hands in her lap, seemed to think it was of the utmost importance. You wanted to speak, wanted to ask her name, but found yourself turning to your right - and catching the gaze of the person that opened the door for you.

“Anna,” your savior spoke, tilting her head to the left and regarding you with curious eyes. A pale hand, big and long-fingered, shot out and hovered above your lap. You glanced down at it, at the clean skin and the perfect fingernails, and knew that you hit the survivalist jackpot.

With a nod and a quick clasp of her hand, you whispered your name in reply. She nodded before leaning back against the door and crossing her arms; she seemed quite comfortable there, with a rather large gun resting across her lap. Her hair, blonde as well, fell in gentle waves to her shoulders. She saw with deep blue eyes - a contrast to the cold steel of the driver - and didn’t hesitate to flick them over your body in some sort of analytical search. Weapons, you figured, is what she was looking for. And the knife in your lap, which she eyed with some interest.

You wanted to say something, wanted to thank them, but it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough those days. Asking something of someone was a risk every single time. And you’d asked—begged—them to take you in. You needed to pull your weight, no questions asked.

“Um- thank you for-”

“Shoot them.”

“What?!” You straightened up, eyes going wide as, in your peripherals, you saw Anna’s hand inch toward her gun. Through the rear-view mirror, you caught the way the driver’s brow twitched.

“You heard me. Shoot them.”

“Pha-”

“I said no talking,” the stranger growled, not even bothering to address the woman in the passenger seat. The white-haired woman looked frustrated, her red lips tugging into a frown, as she watched the driver double down on her focus. “Didn’t I say that?”

“But I-,” you wanted to plead your case, wanted to defend yourself, but were cut off.

“I am not going to shoot,” Anna said before you could speak. “Why do you expect her to be quiet hah, Phasma? We just saved her жопa. No need for fighting.”

You glanced at her, picking up on the Native tongue. Fresh off the boat, or perhaps visiting, with the way she said it so easily. Zhopa? Given the context, it wasn’t hard to tell what she meant. Yes, they had just saved your ass. And yes, you wanted to say thank you. Even if that Phasma person wasn’t too keen on a bit of gratitude.

“I hardly think thanking us for a kind deed is worthy of execution, no matter how much silence you require,” the fair-haired woman across from you said smoothly, throwing a slight glare to the woman on her right. And finally, she took that moment to turn around in the seat and make eye contact.

Something that proved to be far more difficult than you thought it would. Good lord, she was gorgeous. Pale skin, deep admiral blue eyes, and lips redder than blood. Not even a scratch on her face, not even a single spec of dirt - as if the apocalypse never happened and there weren’t dead people roaming every street in the world. In fact, she didn’t seem incredibly worried about the predicament the human species found itself in, and was looking at you with kind eyes, a furrowed brow, and a smile that she hoped was welcoming.

“My name is Larissa,” her hand, gloved in white fabric as soft as silk, reached out as an olive branch. You wanted to take it, wanted to feel something so lovely for the first time in a long time and create some sort of bond, but your hands were very dirty. A part of you guessed that Larissa hadn’t put them on earlier that day with the hope to return to camp holding soft fabric smudged with dirt and dried blood, so you only looked down at your palm and then back at hers.

“Oh uh- I don’t wanna get your gloves dirty-”

“Oh,” she glanced down, realizing that she was, in fact, wearing hand-coverings. “Later, then,” a warm smile shone back at you - and you were helpless, instantly offering her a nod in return.

“Finished?” The driver piped up, eyes cold as she stared at you in the rear-view.

As if on cue, Larissa turned back around in her seat, rolling her eyes as she went, and you could only fall quiet. Introductions were over, you were warming up to the easy heat in the car, and Phasma–if you dared address her by name in your head–had a good handle of the wheel. You were safe. For now. And with one last suspended look at the gun on Anna’s lap, you reached over for the seatbelt, tucked yourself in with a click, and leaned back in the seat. It was so suddenly comfortable, such a huge contrast to the shit you’d dealt with recently, that you couldn’t help but close your eyes and revel. Even for a moment. Even for a second.

—

“Get up,” a mean grunt, paired with a quick rush of piercingly cold air, tugged you from the depths of sleep.

Before you could even open your eyes properly, a shiver set itself into your bones. Eager to escape it, and the confines of the car, you jolted and scrambled for your seatbelt. Leaning against the open door, watching you grab your things, was the driver. Phasma? Weird name, but there was no time to dwell - especially not when she was looking at you like that. Eyes sharper than the knife on your lap, holding a polished chrome pistol in one hand, and waiting with some tension for you to hurry up. The duffel was pulled up onto your shoulder, the knife was tucked into your belt, and your hands scratched at the leather as you looked around wildly for your gun.

“We took it. You’ll get it back when you prove you’re not a complete imbecile,” she spat, peering down her nose at you. Disgust danced in her expression, sparking flames of unwanted insecurity, and you felt compelled to look away. Her nostrils were flared, her pink lips curled into something disdainful and mean, and you couldn’t help but watch the way her jaw shifted as she tensed, watching you watch her. The hatred seemed a bit out of place, too strong for normal trust issues, and you briefly wondered if perhaps she’d always been that way - even before the end of civilization. She was clearly a bitch, and not interested in showing you kindness any time soon, so you decided to forgo a response, ignored her glaring, and slipped out of the car without a word.

Before your feet were completely on the ground, and your bag was out of the way, the door slammed closed behind you, quick and sharp. The speed of it nearly clipped your shirt, and you whirled around to face the stranger’s irritation. She seemed to have lost interest in you and side-stepped your figure without another glance. One finger on the trigger, a shit-ton of audacity-filled swagger in her walk, and a back broad and strong. She looked like an outlaw, tall, mean, wearing grey with a belt around her strong hips and a leather jacket over her shoulders. You wanted to throw your gun at her and watch it hit the back of her head, but there was no way in Hell you’d be able to run away faster than she could catch you.

“Come,” you heard Anna speak, interrupting your train of thought as she trudged up to your left. You turned, seeing the way she cocked her head. “I’ll introduce you.” The gun swayed in her grasp as she turned, making little shuffling sounds in the grass.

The grass.

You went to go forward, but stopped. The grass. It was… terribly neat. Very well maintained. Not like apocalypse grass, which was flat and bloodied and mudded and dusted, but like rich person grass. Striking green grass, healthy, it bounced back behind you when you stepped on it. And the air… you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. It was fresh. Pure. Free of the smell of death and free of gunpowder and spraying blood. Just where on Earth were y-

oh.

Oh.

You looked up, finally, and found yourself in a courtyard. On all sides was a wall, sections of it made of brick, others of stone, and the rest of wrought iron fence, bolted hard into the ground; and across the way, piercing the sky, was a manor. Or what looked like a manor. No - what was definitely a manor. Dark, illuminated slightly by the deep blue of the atmosphere and the torches that littered the ground in neat paths, splitting off into cobblestone sections. You swallowed. It was gorgeous. Untouched. A world that seemed to run on and on while the rest of the globe went to shit.

How fucking lucky were you?

“Come! I must say twice?!” Anna called, giving you an exasperated beckon as she started disappearing behind the dark stone brick of the main entrance.

Sparing a quick glance behind you, you found a fortified gate and short stone walls - reinforced and built upon with barbed wire, wood, and sheets of metal. It must have opened up for the truck when you were still asleep, but was very much firmly shut and impenetrable once closed. You wanted to explore it more, wanted to study the mechanism and the layout and come to understand just how they managed to get the place so protected, but you didn’t want to leave Anna waiting. And a low rumble of thunder, far but rolling quick, told you that rain was eager to make her appearance - and you did not want to get caught in that.

After adjusting your bag and patting the knife in your belt for reassurance, you set off after the Russian stranger.

—

“So I am Anna, this you know already,” she pointed to herself, tapped her chest twice, then rolled her hand over to gesture to the clearing ahead.

It was beautiful, outlined against a dark wood. Rocky paths led to a big circle in the middle, and the ruins of stone benches and statues littered the camp. You could definitely see what it used to be - a beautiful place for the elite to sit, to bask, to enjoy the nice air and the wind. But the end of the world had gotten to it, not with the bearings of total destruction, but with the promise of change. A big spruce shelter had been built to the far left, reinforced with four beams and no walls - clearly just meant to keep the rain at bay while they worked outside. Beneath it, there were wooden benches and designated spots for farming equipment, guns, and even a water purifying system from the looks of it. If you assumed that sleeping quarters and showers existed in the castle, then they seemed to be in the best shape anyone could be in.

Even the people, who were busy going about their evening and tending to their duties, while you watched by Anna’s side and felt your excitement grow.

“Phasma was woman driving. Not so kind,” she tsked, giving you a knowing look, and you found yourself unable to ask about the strange name. You figured she wouldn’t have known the answer anyway. Then her hand moved, stealing your attention. “That is Jane,” she pointed to a pale woman sitting on one of the large stone benches.

Her back was turned, but you could see the severity of her expression in the reflection of a hand mirror. She was handsome, free of makeup, with jet-black hair. The strands fell from between her fingertips, spilling like water, as she threaded them into a braid around her head. Her movements were slow, methodic, and you watched, sort of hypnotized, as the long sleeves of her hooded dress stretched across her slim back. Tight along her arms and resting over the black pants covering her thighs, leading down to knee-high leather boots. Fit for an apocalypse, but somehow still chic. You watched her hands for a moment more, and turned slightly to her right when Anna gestured to the woman beside her.

“Miranda. Good girl, but way too skinskie,” she nodded to herself while crossing her arms.

The stranger in question–Miranda–was holding up an antique hand mirror for Jane to look into while doing her hair. They seemed to be the same height, though Miranda’s build was lankier and toned. The sleeves of her white top had to have been torn off, leaving freckled shoulders free to the air, and around one wrist was a black watch. It nearly matched the same leather as her belt, which held an attached holster and a sleeve for a walkie-talkie. Its antenna stood out against the baby blue of her uniform pants; tight by the hips but baggier toward the ankles, tucked into dark laced boots. Her hair was styled into a fair blonde bob, probably recently cut by the sight of such clean edges. It looked unbearably soft kissing the back of her neck.

“She was policewoman. Strong.” Anna commented, gazing at her from your spot by the castle wall.

You nodded absentmindedly, looking over the two strangers and the chess board that sat between them on the bench. Jane had black and Miranda white. The latter seemed to be focusing quite hard on the game, holding a pawn loosely in one hand, as the dark-haired beauty tsked and adjusted the hand mirror that slowly slipped to the side. You watched Miranda jump and offer what you assumed was a sheepish apology, as she tried to multitask. Her small smile was pink and soft, warm and welcoming. A friend, perhaps.

“Very…domestic,” came your soft murmur, sparked by the surprise of such a peaceful camp. In the past group, everyone was too busy trying to sleep, find food, or talk themselves through panic attacks. Maintaining sanity with comfort was not a priority.

“Da. Comfortable,” your companion nodded. “Jan is there, washing.” And you turned, yet again, to find a figure standing in front of a clothesline.

The combat boots made her seem tall, though they were a bit out of place—not really matching the long white sleeved shirt and full red skirt combo. Immaculate and clean, you noticed, though that was to be expected from a woman trying her hardest to get blood out of a white blouse. Her hands were covered by blue rubber gloves, with one clutched around a sponge and the other around the neck of a bottle of white wine vinegar. On the ground by her feet was a large pale jug of hydrogen peroxide and a bucket of what you assumed was water. And the blouse in front of her, held up by wooden clothespins, rippled from the breeze. It seemed to get colder and windier the longer the night went on, probably bringing the rain with it at some point. With any luck, it would clear up the light splotches of pink that covered most of the shirt’s chest up to the collar, but ‘Jan’ didn’t seem too patient and satisfied with that. She got back to her scrubbing a moment later, the strict waves of her blonde hair bumping gently against her neck.

“Jan is very chic. You go to her for fashion advice, no?” Anna tilted her head at you, dragging dark blue eyes over your face. The lawn lamps stabbed into the grass lit everything up with a sweet warm glow, bringing out the flames in her expression as she peered at you curiously. Very handsome, in her own sharp-featured sort of way. You couldn’t help the snort that bubbled up.

“Respectfully, I think fashion is the least of my concerns right now, Anna.”

“Hm. Maybe,” she hummed, shrugged, and gave you a once-over that set your heart racing before turning her attention back to the group.

“Brienne!” You jumped, flinching away as Anna’s loud voice carried into your ear. In the distance, a hulking figure shifted and unfolded, moving to look up at the call. They were sitting on a big pile of cut logs, holding a stone cylindrical sharpener in one hand and a… sword… in the other. Anna waved, talking to you gently as you both watched the figure’s expression change into one of suspicion. She was handsome. Pale, with the lightest blonde lashes and brows, and eyes that sparkled even from that distance. They squinted, drawing frown lines across her face, as she straightened up in her spot. You tried desperately not to stare at her figure, but it was impossible. The deep blue ribbed shirt clung to her torso like a second skin, wrapping tightly around strong biceps and broad shoulders. It was tucked into muddy green cargo pants, offsetting the brightness of the steel that covered the toes of her dark boots. You tilted your head and watched as she glanced between you and Anna before she finally decided to shoot the woman a firm nod. Anna’s lips quirked up into a smile. “She was once soldier. Good woman - she will protect you if you’re in trouble. Saved me many many times.” Her blonde curls swished as she nodded to herself.

That was good to know, you reasoned. Everyone seemed quite strong. Tall, too. And pale. The camp was gorgeous, the people seemed mundane enough, and the company was… well. Your eyes drifted over to Anna’s side profile, a silhouette of soft dips and curves, and you couldn’t hide the attraction you felt even if you tried.

“Larissa, you know too. She is leader, xорошо?” You didn’t really know what ‘harasho’ meant, but the light intonation of her voice had you saying ‘Yeah’ anyway.

Then an arm was winding itself around yours, jostling the bag on your shoulder and the gun slung around Anna’s body. It rested against her back, hitting her thighs, and you were suddenly powerless to the way she steered you further down the gravel path. Toward the right, there was a makeshift driveway; a patch of land ripped up from the grass and replaced with gravel, soil, and rocks. The black truck made an appearance again, probably having been driven up from around the back, and you watched with curious eyes as Phasma busied herself with a few bags and boxes from the trunk. Jesus, she was fit… tall and lethal. A small grunt left her lips when she hauled two boxes up into her arms, never faltering or pausing. Damn. You found yourself getting lost in the sight of her legs in those cargo pants, filling them out, until Anna clicked her tongue.

“Lucifer is strange, but ultimately harmless. Do not worry, they are not naked under the robe.”

Lucifer? Naked under the what?

You were going to take a quick glance around, to find whatever the hell Anna was talking about, but there was no need. Some feet in front of you, lounging on a red and gold velvet chase, was a lithe figure. They were almost glowing in the reflection of the walkway lamps, with the deep crimson of a flowing silk robe offsetting the smooth pale planes of soft skin. One elbow was propped up on the arm of the chair, and you traced the folds of flowing sleeves up to a slim forearm, wrist, and a delicate hand. Slender fingers were curled under the curve of a pale cheek, and you felt your heartbeat speed up at the sight of soft features and crystal eyes. And their hair, curled so perfectly into handsome shining ringlets of spun golden-web… goodness, they were…

“Luxurious,” you murmured, tilting your head as you watched the stranger chat with Larissa. She was standing over them, in front of the chase, and even at that height, you had a feeling that the one laying down was somehow a little bit taller. “Is Lucifer their real name?”

“Da,” Anna nodded, “little strange, no?”

“Yeah,” you gave her an odd look. “Strange as fuck.”

“Don’t get comfortable,” a voice growled from behind you, making you slip away from Anna’s hold and turn around. Phasma was walking past, holding a big bag under each arm. Her muscle was impressive, but dear god she was an asshole. You had to sort out that situation as quick as possible.

“Hey what’s your problem, man?” You spread your hands out at your sides before letting them slap against your thighs. “You picked me up, and while I’m grateful for that, I am, you didn’t have to-”

“Exactly,” she bit out as she whirled around and marched right back to you. Her breath was cool, washing lightly over your face, and she stood so close that your foreheads nearly touched. From that angle, looking up, you could reach out and trace the jagged line of her scar. It was quite attractive actually, even if her eyes narrowed as she watched you look at her. They were cold. Not an ounce of care.

“Don’t. Get. Comfortable.” Her lips twitched, carrying a silent threat.

“Okay,” Larissa’s voice, sing-songy and weary, cut into the conversation. “Why don’t we all take a moment to calm down, hm?” Her smile was blinding as she turned to you. One gloved hand hovered above Phasma’s right shoulder, but was instantly shrugged off the second it made contact. Her sneer didn’t fade even when she stepped back, eyes still flaming with anger. Larissa cleared her throat. “Y/n, you’re new here. Why don’t you and I have a little chat?”

Her expression, although kind, hid a sharpness that you didn’t think was wise to fuck around with. If Larissa was the leader, according to Anna, then it was her you had to charm. You didn’t really know why she was the top dog, especially because some of the other group members seemed more… abrasive… but clearly something about her was good enough to be the one in charge. And pissing her off, messing around with her people, was a one-way ticket to possibly turning into those fuckers lurking in the woods. So you didn’t really have a choice - and you didn’t really want one. No matter what, you’d stay. You’d be of some help. You’d stay on the soft grass, smelling the clean air. You’d become best friends with Larissa, the group would learn to like you, and you’d try not to combust when any of them looked your way.

Easier said than done though, of course. Especially when Larissa’s smile knocked down all of your reservations at once, in one big swing, and coaxed an obedient nod from your body.

“Okay. Yes. Sure.”

“Perfect,” Larissa’s grin, somehow, grew even wider.

“It’s getting late,” were Phasma’s parting words before she turned away and headed off toward two big wooden double doors.

You watched her strut without much thought, and found yourself on the other end of a staring Larissa. Her eyes were utterly striking in the evening light, and the outline of her face… a sight to be seen for a person as weary as you.

“So… is your group considered women only?” You murmured, peering up at her through your eyelashes.

Red lips twitched.

“Not intentionally. Though we have had the discussion before,” she contemplated her next words carefully, looking all over your face before resuming, “and we think it’s best if it’s just women. And Lucifer.”

“And Lucifer?” You still can’t get over that being their real name. Probably just picked out in a moment of edginess when they were a teen. Lucifer did sound cool, sort of bully-worthy. Like they were emo kid once upon a time.

“Lucifer is what many would refer to as non-binary. Not a man and not a woman. I hope that won’t be a problem?” Something flashed behind her eyes. Not a threat, but a warning. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Not at all. They and I are… one and the same,” you shrugged and adjusted the bag on your shoulder.

“How lucky I must be…,” someone purred from over your shoulder.

You tensed up, surprised by the closeness, and felt yourself grow a little weak at the tone. Like spiced honey, their voice was intense and smooth. You wanted to lap it up.

“Ah right on time for a proper introduction,” Larissa, ever the most efficient woman from what you could tell so far, found herself a golden opportunity. One hand shot out and gestured over to you, then to the person slinking around to your right. “Y/n this is Lucifer, one of the strongest members of our group. Lucifer and I make most of the big decisions, with the necessary input from everyone else. And Lucifer,” Larissa’s grin relaxed into a smile, “this is Y/n. Depending on our discussion of the rules, they may become a familiar face, so I suggest you play nice.”

You found that you couldn’t look to the side without short-circuiting. There was something.. something… about their aura that had you wanting to shy away and cower. It wasn’t the explosive intensity of Phasma or the consuming strangeness of Anna, or even the gentle but strong hand of Larissa… but instead a subtle sort of consumption. Utterly intriguing and fascinating - like they were put on the Earth to confuse humans. You didn’t even look at them and you could feel that. Didn’t even know them and you could feel that. Standing so close. So much body heat.

“It’s a pleasure,” they murmured, turning to you fully.

You swallowed, braced yourself, and looked up to your right.

Sweet holy Jesus. They were even more handsome up close. Just absolutely soft and glorious. And carrying the faint scent of… firewood? You cleared your throat.

“Um yeah- likewise. Hi.”

A flash of black, followed by measured footsteps in the grass, had all three of you shifting to see Jane walking past. Miranda was not too far behind, taking her time to cross the yard.

“Dinner is being prepared. Show face in the next 20 minutes or go to bed hungry.” Jane didn’t even spare you a glance before she disappeared behind the same doors Phasma had gone through.

“Thank you, Jane,” Larissa managed to call just before they closed behind her with a dull bang.

“Three moves…,” Miranda was muttering, holding the box for the chess set in one hand. “She beat me in three moves.”

“Oh it’s not hard. I would’ve beaten you in two,” another voice entered the fray, polite but amused. Jan, you recognized, as she sidled up between you and Larissa with a small smile on her deep red lips.

Miranda scoffed and turned to look at Anna, only to find that she was gone. One glance behind you revealed that she’d wandered over to Brienne, probably prompting her to go inside for dinner. You hummed, hiding the amusement of friendly banter. It had been so long since you felt even the smallest sense of normalcy. If they were so comfortable with each other, then it must have been a bit since they were all alone out in the world. You’d probably ask Larissa about that later - once everything was said and done.

“I would’ve beaten you in one,” Lucifer smirked as they pulled away and went walking inside. Had they been barefoot the entire time?

“That’s not even possible!” Miranda yelled, but the door was already shut. “...Is it?” She turned to Larissa, then to you, then back to Larissa.

“I don’t think so, Miranda,” Larissa smiled before looking at you. “Any chance you’re good at chess?”

Dear lord, having two sets of beautiful blue eyes on you was nerve-wracking, but you ignored the flush building up on your cheeks and nodded.

“Um yeah- it’s possible to beat someone in two moves. But it’s only black, I think.” You gave Miranda an apologetic smile and a shrug as she pouted.

“You will beat her next time Miranda,” Anna returned with Brienne in her wake. The sword she was sharpening earlier was still in her hands. “She cannot win forever.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Brienne cut in, her voice strong and deep. Her mouth was pulled into a light frown, and you noticed the scar that cut through the upper lip on the right. From the time before, you suspected. Otherwise she’d be turned. “She beat me and Phasma one after the other.”

Miranda sighed, tsking beneath her breath.

“Then there’s no hope…” Goodness, she looked like a sad puppy.

“Why not?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could grab it.

And of course, all of the attention then dragged itself over to you. Five sets of sea-blue eyes, all gorgeous in the glow of the evening lamps, traced lines over your tired body. In comparison to them, you looked a sight. Obviously having been picked up from the side of the road, unclean and awkward, somewhat detached from society. In your bag? Not enough clothing and not enough supplies. In your belt, peeking out from beneath your shirt? A knife, dirty and growing dull. And in your eyes? Lurking sadness and horror - the same which probably lived in the women that were observing you.

Larissa, thank goodness, finally broke the lull of silence.

“Brienne and Phasma were in the military,” she said gently.

“Oh. That makes sense.” And it did - Jane must have been an intellectual force if she beat people that used to be in the military before the world ended. Though that made you wonder… “What branch?” You turned to Brienne, not really surprised that you had to look up to meet her eyes. It seemed you’d been adopted into a camp of skyscrapers. Though the sharpness of her eyes had you swallowing. “I mean- if you don’t mind me asking.”

She seemed to consider it, sizing you up, before saying, rather shortly, “SAS. Then Delta Force.”

You couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened.

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed,” Larissa hummed. “But I think now would be a good time to head in, wouldn’t you say?” She spared her smile for everyone, meeting the gaze of each woman, before finally looking at you and raising her eyebrow.

It wasn’t really up to you, so you just shrugged and waited for Anna to say ‘Da, da, xорошо’ before heading in. Brienne followed after her, then Miranda, who was studying the back of the chess box, and Larissa, who started taking off her gloves. Jan, meanwhile, stayed where she was and kept her eyes on you. They were curious and deep, never-ending, and lined with mascara and eyeliner. Mascara and eyeliner that… well it suited her, but goodness it was certainly intense. Dark and shadowed, but beautiful nevertheless. You couldn’t look away.

“Jan Stevens,” she breathed and gave you her hand, elegant and admittedly quite charming. Her nails were painted a deep cherry red. Utterly flawless.

At the sight of it, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. Your palms were still dirty, and sort of calloused, and you didn’t want to… ruin her. So you hesitated, stared at it, looked back up at her, and found her kind smile to be unwavering.

“Go on,” Jan finally whispered, giving her hand a pointed look, and you fell prey in an instant.

Quickly, you shot out to gently cup her hand into your own, and gave it a gentle shake. You felt strangely compelled to bring it up to your lips, but you weren’t sure that meeting a stranger in an apocalypse really called for such formalities. Even though you yearned to feel her skin beneath your mouth. It wasn’t proper; though you did think that Jan’s expression fell just a little bit. Like she was excited. Like she wanted you to kiss her hand.

“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she purred, looking you up and down, before turning toward the door. “Come quickly now. If we’re late, Jane will send us off to bed without dinner. And we wouldn’t want that.”

It probably would have been wise to consider and contemplate the fact that you were in a stranger’s camp, with a stranger’s group… but the saucy little wink that Jan threw over her shoulder sent a deep blush crawling up your cheeks. And just like that, without fail, you were one of the flesh-eaters… caught in the pretty paws of eight different beasts.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Please let me know if my characterization is okay and if you'd like to see more. Be safe, darlings. - Rip x

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Far too many names to tag. Find it as you come.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

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queenendless · 1 year ago

Text

👻🦇🎃 Spooky Lovin' (Various JJK ft Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Female!Reader) 🎃🦇👻

A/N: Just my headcannon on an imagined scenario with the JJK cast celebrating Halloween together and they're all A-OK and happy and 😭🤧❤️‍🩹 There are ships/pairings in this here and there plus the costumes I thought of for them all that took forever to think of! Spooky romantic fluff. Cause writing that vampire AU 18+ piece is ... hard.

Pairings: Yuji x Megumi, Nobara x Maki, Yuta x Rika with hints of Yuta x Toge, Kokichi x Miwa, Shoko x Utahime, Nanami x Haibara, Mai x Momo, Yuki x Choso, and Satoru x Suguru x Fem!Reader at the end.

All credit for JJK cast goes to Gege.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy. And —

HAPPY HALLOWEEN~!

THE CAST'S HALLOWEEN ATTIRE!

🎃Yuji in a tiger onsie and his usual sneakers with black face paint on for the whiskers and the nose.

🎃Megumi as wolf boi with just a wolf ears headband on … he was willing to put those on for his Yuji bae and that's all you're getting.

🎃Nobara as OUAT Aurora with a sword because she is a cute badass.

🎃Maki as OUAT Mulan because I like her warrior armored suit. Blame the fanarts I've seen.

*Plus seeing fanart of those OUAT girls together made something click.

🎃Toge as the Mummy. Better that than automatically putting him in a sushi roll suit.

🎃Panda as Frankenstein's Monster. In the torn up black Frankenstein jacket, stitches painted on, Frankenstein bowler head wig, and bolts in the neck. It was either this or Killer bear.

🎃Yaga as Dr Frankenstein. Labcoat, gloves but with his shades still on. Makes perfect sense.

🎃Yuta as Bendy the Dancing Demon.

🎃Rika as Alice Angel

*They both start off cute then become quite terrifying but in the best way.

🎃Kokichi as Victor from The Corpse Bride.

🎃Miwa as Emily THE Corpse Bride.

🎃Nanami as Captain America cause I got the idea from @TimieTate on twitter. But he keeps said cap off. He'll keep the shield just to see the fanboy within faces Yu, Yuji and Ino come to life.

🎃Yu Haibara as Iron Man cause I like Stony and it all fits now. Also he used face paint to add in the beard goatee combo.

🎃Ino as a zombie with the usual horror makeup with green skin, bloody cuts, and he's a cutie wanting brains~

🎃Shoko as Sally

🎃Utahime as Genderbent Jack Skellington with a Zero plushie.

🎃Momo as Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Just the poofy velvety black dress, witch's hat, It was the broom's fault.

🎃Mai as Salem Saberhagen/Cat. It's just in a velour jumpsuit with an attached tail, layered choker necklace, cat ear headband, and ankle boots.

🎃Todo as a crossdressed Takada … cause why not.

🎃Choso as Netflix's Castlevania Dracula, with his hair loose to match. Also because of the whole blood thing.

🎃Yuki as Lisa Tepes also from Netflix's Castlevania cause they're both independent and stubborn and it just made sense to have them pair up.

🎃Riko as Wednesday Adams

🎃Kuroi as Morticia Adams

🎃Toji and Shiu as Sam and Dean Winchester. Just wearing leather jackets, rustic shirts, torn jeans and boots for the rugged look. Doesn't matter who's dressed as who. They can both make either roles work.

🎃Noritoshi Kamo as Hellsing's Alucard

🎃Junpei as Ash Williams. OG Classic. With detachable chainsaw toy hand.

🎃Nanako as Mitsuri Kanroji

🎃Mimiko as Nezuko

🎃Tsumiki as Shinobu

*They all got the wigs and custom made toy Nichirin swords. Also because Tsumiki and Shinobu share the same seiyuu. It was either her or Yor from SPY X FAMILY. Lord knows Gojo, Geto and Megumi would never want to see this girl in that kinda getup; overprotective they are.

🎃Mei as Disney OG Ursula. They both have white hair and do business with high rewarding profits. I had trouble figuring out a costume for Mei, okay!?

🎃Ui as a Flotsam Jetsam Mashup. Devoted brother/minion, so be it.

🎃Kusakabe as a Scarecrow. Apparently he's a fearful man that is courageous when it counts. It all fits.

🎃Akari Nitta as OG Disney Cinderella. Cause why not? It's cute!

🎃Ijichi as Zorro. Be a brave badass, my man!

*Those two are doing a callback to A Cinderella Story; the OG one, where Sam is Cindy and Carter is Zorro. Ergo, neither pair are couples.

🎃Arata Nitta as just a bedsheet ghost. He's timid as hell according to his wiki so there.

🎃Satoru as Wassup Ghostface

🎃Suguru as Viper Ghostface

🎃You as OG Ghostface

*Cause I gotta put my favorite horror character of all time in this and seeing fanart of them as Ghostface is a big turn on~! Plus Gojo gives Wassup vibes. And Viper looked so cool for Geto. And yes you be representing the OG!

🎃👻🦇 🎃 👻🦇🎃 👻🦇🎃👻🦇🎃👻🦇🎃

Fall has come.

Warm colored leaves whisking in the cold blowing winds.

And so much rambunctious chatter teemed the atmosphere.

The annual Halloween carnival fair has arrived.

"Fushiguro! Let's go on that ride next!" Yuji cheered enthusiastically as the pair rode the flaming pumpkin head shaped go bumper car.

"Fine fine! Just keep your eyes on the – ACK!" Megumi grabbed those mochi cheeks of Yuji's to make him face forward, both jerking forward as they got slammed in up front by another go cart.

"Itadori-kun! Eyes on the road!" Junpei laughed.

"You two can get it on later, ya know~" Ino teased, grinning, innuendo jokes going hard.

"Ino-san, please don't egg him on." Megumi grumbled, bashfully avoiding eye contact.

"If he wants to, sure." Yuji made it all seem so simple.

"WHAT!?" All three exclaimed in shock, startling the other drivers and passerby, earning him a hard yank on his tiger hood.

Mingling outside a food booth

"Mmm, umai~!" Nobara's eyes lit up with actual stars in them as she eyed her crepe with bat and spider sprinkles paired with chocolate sauce. "Delicious and Insta-worthy~! Maki-san, what do you think?"

She smacked her lips in afterthought, eyeing the"With the black and orange dyed cone, matching sherbert ice cream gave off that spooky pizzazz to put one in the festive mood "Not bad. Too much though."

"Hmm … then finding the best cammable sweets for Maki-san is our goal for this all Hallows Night!"

"Don't go overboard, baka." Maki bopped her on her crowned head, endearingly smiling. "Cause we're burning all this sugar in our workout tomorrow."

Nobara saluted. "Yes ma'am!"

From down the road, sitting at a mini table set up outside another food both, Mai scoffs at the sight. "Maki, what do you see in that girl?"

Giving heated glares to some passerby that were giving cat calls to Mai, Momo "Your envy is warranted but not tonight. Now have a spooky berry." Momo plopped a bloody frosted one from her decorated strawberry coffin into her partner's mouth.

"Out of all the people, she chose to date … her." Mai muffled through her full mouth.

"I heard that, you know." The Kyoto pair looked up to see Mai's twin and her bae standing there; Maki a bit facially irked whereas –

"We BOTH heard!" Nobara's seething face was too close for Mai's comfort; Maki restraining her from going feral, though Mai looked undisturbed.

Oh? I didn't see you there." Mai's false smile had Nobara shooting steam out of her nostrils.

"She means well." Momo; understanding Mai's protectiveness over her twin, just sat there and ate those berries away.

The baseball struck gold as the bottle tower collapsed with ease.

"Alright Nanami-san! Perfect aim as always!" Haibara cheered, clapping before pointing at the prize he wanted hanging above their heads. "How many prize booths does that make now?" Haibara beamed, arms full of stuffed toy prizes.

"This would be the fifth one. I believe we've reached a moderate amount at this point." Nanami stated, adjusting the strap keeping the star spangled shield on his back, as they walked off with their reward.

"Yeah. This is more than enough for my sister. Thank you. So here." Picking up his latest prize, he handed the Iron Man chibi doll to his beau. "As a token to remember this night."

Nanami was so taken back by the gesture. "Then you keeping this one would even things up." He plopped that Cap chibi plush right on Haibara's face.

Haibara nuzzled the Cap plush with his cheek. "I'll follow you to the ends of the Earth … Kento."

God, Nanami's heart was getting ready to burst right outta him! "Yu …" Looking straight ahead, he shyly blushed as he kept a hand on Yu's back just in case. "I'll never forget."

On a park bench, viewing the fair from across the way, the two ruggedly dressed drinking buddies were hogging the bench.

"You know spying is a bad look for you, Zen'in."

"Shut it. It's Fushiguro now, remember?" And yet, propped against the back of the bench, Toji kept glancing at his wolf eared teen son walking with his fellow sorcerer buddies through the festive grounds evidently content regardless if he was smiling or not.

"Just go say to your kids already, you big old wuss."

Downing some booze, Toji sighed. "Nah. It's better this way. Besides, his two new papas would kill me in cold blood if I got even close."

"You're actually pissed you didn't get invited to their group gathering." Shiu drolled, getting bonked in the back of the head by Toji's half empty bottle.

"Still though, nothing like a drink and a smoke outside to spend the night away." Shiu mused, smoke slipping through his lips.

Toji's semi bored eyes suddenly became focused as they trained on a former target that now alluded to his sights after slipping inside one of the many houses of horrors littered around the fair grounds.

Holding hands tightly, Riko and Kuroi jolted and squeaked among the many other costumed attendees from every jump scare triggered by the gory horrifying figures coming every which way.

"Riko-sama, it's okay if you don't want to keep going."

"No! I can be brave through this! Just to rub it in those two's smug ass faces! I can do this – mmph!" She bumped into someone's back amiss her self encouragement. Looking up into the blackest eyes of Count Choso who bluntly uttered.

"Boo."

Riko's terrified screams didn't startle Choso in the slightest as she flailed, losing balance, and falling into Kuroi's arms.

"Sorry about him, Amanai-chan. Just trying to get him in the spooky spirit is all." Yuki's head popped out from behind him, apologetically smiling.

"An incarnated object … in the flesh!" She was as terrified as she was astounded at being in his presence, especially when he punched a screeching animatronic that got too close for comfort.

"Another former Star Plasma Vessel." Choso pointed out dryly.

"I chose my own path going forward of my own free will, same as you. No need to be so blunt about it." Riko stuck her tongue out at the somewhat irked hybrid man.

"Riko-sama, let's get going. We're holding up the others behind us." Kuroi cautioned.

"Yes yes, we're wasting precious time here! The night is still young after all!~!" Not wanting to get kicked out and sued by those running the house, Yuki dragged those three out to the exit, barreling through puzzled exclaiming normies.

In a mock up Haunted Mansion ride, Kokichi stayed stiff but flustered as Miwa held his hand, hugged his arm, and cuddled up next to him in their automatic carriage seat for two.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" She curiously wanted to know.

He nods, fidgeting a bit. "And you?"

"Yes … I'm with you, after all." Miwa's genuine smile spoke volumes to how true she meant it.

"Good." He kissed her cheek all feather-like, earning a glow from her face before she peppered his face all with lipstick kisses, to his dopey smiling face.

"Oh my precious students!" That alerted the two as they spotted their sensei tearing up, to which her date used her Zero plush to pat away those tears.

"Just ignore us. We'll keep mingling with our brethren, that's all." Shoko waved to them, lounging in the fake graveyard setting.

"Not if we get kicked out over it!" Utahime panicked.

"Eh, no big deal." Shoko's usual apathetic shrug.

"You promised me you wouldn't act like THOSE TWO – MMPH!" Utahime got shushed by a smooch. Zero's nose lit up red, smooshed in between them, pouting as they parted. "You don't play fair."

Shoko rubbed her nose against Utahime's, mixing her faded blue powder with her white face powder, smiling proudly. "You make it too easy."

Outside, in a corn maze, Toge was looking ahead over the tops, carried on Panda's shoulders,

"Tsuna Tsuna."

"Go right?"

"Shake."

"Got it. Oh, Yuta, why must you leave us in your wake!? We barely see him anymore! Now he left us behind in this maze!" Panda dramatically tearfully shouted to the heavens.

"Mentaiko."

Turning this and that way, they finally found Yuta. On the hay covered ground. With Rika laying atop him.

"T–Toge! Panda! Uh … I can explain everything! I – It was just a slip –!" Yuta sweated bullets.

"He still cushioned my fall. You're always looking out for me, Yuta, my love~!" Rika gushed.

While he remained calm on the surface; that and his mouth was covered in wraps, Toge was irked at seeing his close friend being smothered by his lifelong love.

"If you two wanted to be alone, all you had to do was say so." Panda suggestively said.

"Uh, that's not – AH!" Getting pulled up to their feet, Yuta blushed at how intense Inumaki's gaze held him with such devotion. Ruffling his hair, Toge was now turning red from what those wraps didn't hide, Yuta laughed a bit at the cute sight, before Panda bear hugged them all. "I – I missed you all too!"

Leaning against the fenced borders of the exit, Kusakabe-sensei stood beside his fellow Scarecrow; a display maybe but still, staying steer clear of any unwarranted hassle.

"Kids … naively enjoying normalcy despite our true reality. As long as I don't get screwed over in the long run, I'm –!"

A clown faced balloon got thrusted in his face.

"Take one. Enjoy yourself. I mean it."

Principal Yaga, handing out spooky themed balloons to adorably costumed kids passing by with their parents, still noticed the somber fear in his eyes. Speaking of kids –

"Come on, uncle! Mom is waiting for us!"

Yaga smiled at seeing Atsuya being dragged off by his Batman dressed nephew, willing to let his guard down for the little guy, a bat shaped balloon in his small gloved hand.

Mei cackling as money rained the sky. "Thinking you can trick me out of my wits," Men with wounded pride crumbled around her. "Only to be treated to my heart's content." They should never have bet straight outta their wallets. "Now that's what I call the best treat ever~!" She was that good at the shooting ranges. And darts. And slamming the hammer to ring the bell.

"Nee-sama, on top, as always~! Perfection~!" Ui applauded in his own odd unsettling way that only his elder sister enjoyed as she laughed madly.

Noritoshi hoped Miwa and the girls' choice of costume for him wouldn't make him feel so … out of his comfort zone. And yet, the various fangirls that adored the character he portrayed had them taking him up on both sides, hugging him arms and giggling nonstop at how fine he looked. Guess letting his hair down and loose made the look really sell. Still …

"I cannot tell if this is better than dealing with curses … or worse."

Getting dragged off to God knows where, an overwhelmed Noritoshi passed the masked Ijichi-san who was mesmerized by Nitta-san as the princess she is inside and out, twirling on the bridge. "I'll make sure not to lose my glass slipper~!" She cheekily jokes.

"I'd gladly carry you should you ever lose them." Ijicji bravely offered.

"Oh thank you Ichiji-san, but I'll manage. Right, Anata?"

All she got from the tarp draped ghost of her teen brother was jerky nodding and an "Eep!"

"He's really shy. But that makes him that much more precious to me~!" She hugged her startled embarrassed tarp brother.

It brought tears to Ichiji's eyes, sniffling. "Ah sibling love … so pure!"

And for Todo. Yeah, a Takada-chan Halloween themed concert was happening nearby. And yes he got tickets to see her. Cross dressed as his #1. The man will wear it with the utmost unbridled pride and joy for his Takada-Chan. And he'd lose it seeing her dressed as the best half angel half devil in history. "Pure and forbidden to all … the perfect balance … that's my Takada-chan~" He'd be on Cloud 9 yall!

SNAP!

"Ooh, another one!" Nanko cheered.

FLASH.

"New pose time." Mimiko softly suggested.

CLICK!

"Okay, one more!" Tsumiki added.

Posing and taking photos with cosplayers of their fave online idols in their demon slayer outfits was too much fun for all those involved.

"PHOTO BOMB!"

A Wassup Ghostface popped up above Nanako's head. Followed by a Viper one appearing between Mimiko and Tsumiki's faces. Startling away their cosplaying acquaintances.

"Our own papas giving us heart attacks, unbelievable!" Nanako complained.

"It was a good scare, though." Mimiko clapped a bit.

"It made my heart jolt right out of my chest!" Tsumiki exclaimed.

"Huh? Where's Mama, though?" Nanako asked.

"She's missing." Mimiko noted.

"I thought you three would all arrive together." Tsumiki reminded them.

Gojo pulled up his mask to beam at them. "Not to worry, girls. The Mrs is fine. Quite fine, actually~" Gojo's purring tone at how fine you looked in your costume did not go unnoticed as the girls mock gagging into their hands.

Geto also pulled his mask up to peck their foreheads. "You girls keep having fun…not too much, though." Geto wanted the best for his girls too, but not around unsavory company.

"Yes, Geto-sama." The twins kissed his cheeks before dragging Tsumiki off to rendezvous with Megumi's group.

The big question.

Where are you in all this?

Photographing the moments, of course.

Entrapping these precious once in a lifetime memories.

Looking over them all from afar, your tender smile gave way to a wave of attachment as tears pricked your vision behind that mask.

This fragile tender peace amiss this cursed world was what you sought-after.

Swaying from the overflow of sentiment, empathy and affection you felt for this found family had you shaking in your actual costumed boots.

"Tell me …" You felt his cursed energy appear immediately, hovering right behind you. "What's your favorite scary movie?"

You felt giddy, butterflies flocking your nerves, smiling nervously underneath your mask. "This one." You pointed at yourself. "Duh." You giggled as he glomped you from behind, lifting your mask off to see your red cheeked beauty. "Lord forbid I wanna remember this night, digitally and soulfully. Doing group hangouts takes lots of planning, coordination and effort – AAH~!"

You squealed as Satoru lifted you up bridal style, spinning you around, marveling at your form highlighted by the moon while the fair lights made your e/c eyes sparkle like the universe laid in your gaze. Matching his Six Eyes perfectly, hypnotized by them as ever, as he kissed you openly.

"Heaven sent … you truly are." Tuffs of his snony bangs tickled your forehead and nose as his face beamed with pride and joy, unbridled love stretched from both ends of his wide smile, all for you.

"An angel for our depraved souls," Feeling those giant clothes hands cup your cheeks from behind, your toothy smile looked up to see Suguru sharing the same twitterpated expression.

"Ghosts having guardian angels … huh. Who'd have thought?" Your attempt at joking only made them give loud, slobbering, open mouthed smooches all over your face as you became a flailing giggling mess.

"Selfie time~!" Satoru chirped as he took tons of them with his phone, lots of laughs and kisses exchanged amongst the many goofy, creepy, and ecstatic faces you three made.

When midnight would soon be upon you all.

"Looks like we're right on schedule." Suguru mused as you three saw everyone that you personally invited eventually convening where the end of the fair grounds and the park meet, fairy lights hanging among, between, and around the tall hanging trees, various spooky tune favorites playing in the background to set the mood.

"Precisely." You threw the heavy ginormous bag you brought with you.

You popped it with the signature cursed energized finger gun.

It rained candy for all assembled.

While some – Yuji, Panda, Toge, Yuta, Rika, Junpei, Ino, Nobara, Miwa, Riko, Yu, Todo cause his lovely Takada-chan's concert had ended early, Nanako, Mimiko, Tsumiki, Satoru who yes scrambled over to get some too – clamored for every piece they could get their hands on.

Others – the adults at least – had restraint or not much interest.

As the fireworks went off to signal the end of the night, so much lively chatter bounced off everyone in animated mayhem, and you could only stand there and watch in amusement, content, and peace.

You wanted to freeze this moment. As well as many others. From back then to going forward.

This world – this reality – was something else.

You found more meaning, a sense of belonging, and heart in being here.

You would shape, bend and change it all to make it the kind of world you wanted it to be.

One where you could protect the smiles of those you feel attached to. Keeping this little slice of semi-normalcy intact, this somewhat safe haven of a life.

And should any curses wreak havoc upon the city – they will be most active on this night after all – this league of sorcerers would exorcise the hell outta them.

Sitting down on the grassy grounds, you were lost in the glowing sight that you got startled as Suguru slung an arm around your shoulders, nuzzling your humming self with his own.

"Truly a memorable night. Well done, love~"

You two jumped as Satoru collapsed before you two, candy stains smearing his lips, but smiling too much to care. "Best Halloween thus far! But next year we gotta top it! We should throw a bash! At our place!" Satoru's eyes were crazed and high at that point.

"Satoru, no more sugar for you tonight." Suguru lightly scolded.

"But Suguru, I feel so good right now~!" You and Sugu sucked the sweetness right off Toru's lips. "Like that but more~! Please love~?" Those puppy dog eyes and pouty lips have you kissing his lips. "Thanks you two~"

Helping Satoru sit up enough to rest on his elbows, you three spent the moment relishing the youthful scenery. Satoru's head rested on your left shoulder, Suguru's head rested on your right shoulder, and you hummed at how warm and cozy and right it all felt.

Calling out to everyone assembled to do at least one group cheer before the clock struck twelve.

Finishing the night off with one last –

"HAPPY HALLOWEEN!"

173 notes · View notes

sjsmith56 · 4 months ago

Text

Bucky Barnes, Deadpool and the TVA (or How I ended up inside the fourth wall)

Summary: A Bucky Barnes fanfiction writer finds herself in the same universe as the Thunderbolts* Bucky when she wakes up in his bed.

Length: 4.1 K

Characters: Unnamed and undescribed OFC, Bucky Barnes, Dr. Strange, Wong, B-15, variant of OFC, OMC (OFC’s husband)

Warnings: some sexual innuendo, naked horny Bucky, no smut (sorry)

Author notes: Just a silly story that I pulled from somewhere in my mind. The part about the OFC and her husband seeing the new Deadpool movie at a matinee was based on real life.

💻 🦾 🛵

The blank page stared at me. It wasn't blank five minutes ago, but I read what I wrote, and didn't like it, so I deleted it and then I was looking at the page again. We met before, you, the reader and me, the writer. I sought help from the very reason I write, Bucky Barnes. The writing gods first sent me World War II Bucky, a sweet flirty guy who was still interested in the stories I wrote. The version that appeared to me was from before Azzano and before the train; that dreadful transport of death that changed his whole life in a moment. Then they sent me the Winter Soldier, the dark brooding villain ... I know, he was more than that, but that was HYDRAs use of him. He was their Fist, brutally carrying out assassinations on targets they assigned him. Relentless and frightening in his attention to his task he was still a sight to see; that tall, dark-haired muscular menace and the way he strutted towards his target. No hesitation, no regrets and totally the object of many fantasies. I still got warm thinking about the ones I read about, never mind wrote. On that day, it was Falcon and the Winter Soldier (FATWS) Bucky who came to my rescue. It was him as he was portrayed at the end of the series, seemingly in a place where he felt at home in Delacroix, becoming part of Sam Wilson's family as their adopted uncle. That Bucky sat with me, helped me through my writer's block, and even gave me an idea for a Black Widow smut piece that was a gift to my husband. Before he left, he said he would always be there for me. At the time, he probably meant it. Then there was a disturbance in the Force.

Wrong franchise, I know, but how else to explain how things seemed to go a bit sideways? There were the What If? episodes, that displayed Bucky as the sidekick to Captain Carter. Those was okay, then he was more of the dark brooding long-hair version of Wakanda Bucky in a zombie wasteland. At least we got to see a cartoon version of him in the shower, from the waist up. Wasn't quite enough to quench the fandom's thirst for him but it was a start. Don't even get me started on the Guardians of the Galaxy Christmas special where Nebula appeared with Bucky's vibranium arm, opening a whole can of worms over whether it was funny (not to me), cute (seriously stealing Bucky's arm is cute?) and canon (no, James Gunn, it wasn't canon to me). Yes, I'm changing the tense in the middle of a paragraph by telling you to don't @ me if you're a believer in any of the three above. To me, all three of those scenarios were just wrong. I got emotional then and I still do.

I wrote since then, some AUs, lots of one shots as I explored that format, several short fiction pieces of less than 50,000 words, and a couple of long ones. It was going well, then they brought out the Captain America 4 announcement that Bucky wouldn't be in it (what?) and the Thunderbolts* announcement that Sam Wilson wouldn't be in that (seriously?). Why did they get us to invest our time and interest in a six-part series about these two men forging a deep friendship if they had no intention of continuing it in their movies? The rumours about Bucky in this upcoming movie littered the pages of tumblr and Twitter (sorry / not sorry X); things like Bucky regressed mentally and emotionally, he and Sam had a falling out, he became a congressman, or he went to work for Val de Fontaine so that he didn't lose his pardon.

Why would they do that to Bucky? Let the man have a fucking life. As you could see I got emotional about it. On that particular day I decided to have a nap and clear my mind, then it all changed.

💤

"Hey, sweetheart." I could hear the voice, then I felt a cold hand around my waist, reaching up under my T-shirt. Jerking away and turning around I found myself in bed with Bucky Barnes, beefy Bucky, with the bad haircut shown in the leaked preview of the Thunderbolts*. "There she is."

He had no shirt on, and I found it hard to look at him, then opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. I noticed the smirk on his face, which made me feel warm, like really warm, the way the writers of Bucky smut describe it; a warm pool forming in my core, between my thighs, deep in my .... What happened to me? Where was I?

"You okay, doll? You have a nightmare?" His hand cupped my jaw, as he rubbed his thumb on my cheek.

"You're Bucky," I said, still frozen in place, because let's face it, it's not everyday you find yourself in bed with your romantic fantasy.

"Last I checked," he answered, licking his lips then running his hand over the beard he grew since he was in FATWS. "You're my wife."

I pulled away from him, aware that he might not have anything on at all. He looked at me funny.

"You seem different. Tell me you're not a multiverse version of you that's been dropped here."

"I don't know," I answered, pulling the sheet up to cover my front since I realized I wasn't wearing a bra, and my nipples were doing something that was a little disconcerting. "Am I a writer? Are we married? Are you working for Val de Fontaine?"

He laughed, showing those beautiful white teeth, then he leaned close, gently pulling down the sheet and began to nuzzle my neck, making me feel all sorts of things.

"No, yes, and no," he answered. "Come here."

I pulled away so far that I fell out of bed and sat there on the floor with him looking over the edge at me with a decidedly perturbed expression on his face. With only panties on underneath that T-shirt I pulled on the sheet, so I was covered again.

"What's got into you?"

"What's my name, Bucky?"

"Sweetheart, sunshine, baby girl, darlin' and my personal favourite, doll." He was resting his head on his hands, looking at me in a way that was definitely more friendly than I was comfortable with.

"Those aren't names, they're terms of endearment," I answered. "I am married but not to you and you're supposed to be an Avenger, with Sam Wilson."

"Really, just who are you married to and what is your name?" he asked, in a flirting manner. "Gotta say, sunshine, this role-playing thing could be fun."

I told him my husband's name and my name. "I shouldn't be part of the multiverse because it's not real. It's fiction."

He laughed, then saw I wasn't laughing and frowned. Angry Bucky alert. "You have to be from the multiverse. If you're not, where's my wife? Why do you look and sound like her?"

I raised my hands up. "I don't know where she is. I look like her because I write fanfiction of you, and I picture myself in the original female character's role. She usually becomes your love interest. But I had writer's block because Marvel has been messing around with your portrayal and not giving out much information of how they've changed your character. It was bugging me, so I took a nap, then woke up next to you."

"Who's this Marvel guy? Do you think he knows where my wife is?"

He didn't know about the fourth wall, was definitely angry and all I could think of was that he looked just as angry now as he did in that leaked Thunderbolts* footage.

"Marvel's not a guy, it's a corporation that owns the copyright to your character." I winced as I explained it to him, knowing he wasn't liking it. "You're not real, Bucky. You're a fictional character from the comics and the movies they made from it. But you know this already. I've spoken to you in your World War II persona, your Winter Soldier persona and from when you and Sam fought the Flag Smashers. That's called your FATWS era."

I started to explain what the letters meant but he just glared at me, so I stopped. He pulled away from the edge of the bed and got out on the other side, naked, and I did stare, I'll admit it. God, he had a nice ass and the rest of him from the back was... wow. Then he turned to face me, and I looked everywhere but there.

"Get dressed," he ordered. "You're taking me to this Marvel place and I'm going to get my wife back."

"It's not as easy as that," I replied. He stared at me, his arms crossed defiantly in front of him while he was still showing everything the serum gave him. I focused on his face, but it was so hard ... not that, you know what I mean. "If this is a multiverse incursion then there might not be a Marvel in this universe and even if there was it wouldn't be possible to just walk in there. We have to find Dr. Strange. He's the only one who can do anything."

"Fine," he said, "but you're still coming with me. Now get dressed."

Holding the sheet around me I approached the walk-in closet, but he was still standing there, naked, in all of his glory and he smelled so good when I slid past him to see what was available for me to wear. Then he was right behind me, practically pressing himself into me and I had to focus, wondering if I had ever written this much raw physical sexuality into my versions of Bucky but it was difficult to concentrate with him so close.

"You having problems, baby girl?" he asked, his lips so close to my ear that I could feel his warm breath making me moist.

"I don't know what to wear," I mumbled, still painfully aware of his naked body this close to me and I was really only separated from him by a sheet.

"We're going on the motorcycle," he said. "Jeans, T-shirts, and leather jackets."

"Right," I answered, hastily going through the sexy dresses, the long gowns with the thigh-high slits, the almost obscene lingerie, but there were no jeans or T-shirts. "Um, where are they?"

"In the drawers," he grunted. "Don't you have drawers in your universe?"

"Yes," I snapped. "Could you stand further away from me?"

"What's the matter, darlin'? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"This close to me while naked, yes." I rolled my eyes, which he must have heard because he huffed, but he did move away, and I was able to get out of that small space.

Quickly, I located the drawer that had jeans and pulled them on. They were tighter than anything I ever wore but somehow, I got them on. The bra selection left a lot to be desired as most of it was see through and really didn't offer much support. I must have made a noise while I was searching for something more modest because he was suddenly beside me.

"Having a problem, sweetheart? Don't see anything you like? My wife loves all the lingerie I buy for her."

"It's not my style," I answered. "Doesn't she have something that covers more?"

"Sports bra," he answered. "Bottom drawer."

I pulled it open, thankful to find an assortment of sports bras. Pulling one out I started to take the T-shirt off that I woke up in then became aware of his eyes on me. Turning around I was startled to see him reclining on the bed, propped up on one elbow, fully clothed, with his booted feet hanging off the bed.

"Do you mind?"

"No, I don't mind at all," he smirked. "Don't let me stop you. I've seen it all anyways."

"But you're married. Wouldn't watching me get dressed make your wife angry?"

He grinned in an almost wolfish manner. "We have an understanding."

"What? The Bucky's I write are monogamous. Are you polyamorous?"

The grin became a broad smile as he looked me up and down. "If the occasion arises. Gotta say I'm curious to see if you have the same appetites as my doll."

"Out!" I wasn't in the mood for this. "Right now. Go downstairs and get your motorcycle ready."

Slowly, he slid off the bed, then approached me, backing me up to the dresser, while looking at me in a way that gave me thrills at the same time as setting off all sorts of warning bells in my head.

"You sure, sunshine?" His fingertips grasped a tendril of my hair, as he twirled it slightly. "I could definitely make you ...."

"Out," I repeated. "Please stop this."

He backed up, suddenly respectful of my space. "Since you said the magic word, I'll wait downstairs for you."

Just like that, he was gone, and I quickly got the sports bra on, then a clean T-shirt. I pulled on some socks and found some boots, sliding them on. With a quick run through of my hair with my fingers I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, wondering what I had done to get into this predicament.

He was waiting on his motorcycle for me, with a helmet in hand. As I stood there, he placed it on my head, adjusting the chin strap then nodding his head in approval, before putting his on. I slid on behind him, grasping him at the waist. His voice came over a Bluetooth speaker in the helmet.

"You okay, darlin'? Have you ridden a motorcycle before?"

"I'm good. My husband has one and I've ridden with him. Where are we going?"

"The Sanctum Sanctorum," he said. "Might as well go straight to Dr. Strange."

Suddenly, we were there, pulling up to an open parking spot in front of the headquarters of the Masters of the Mythical Arts in the middle of Greenwich Village. This was definitely a unique universe, as we skipped over the long motorcycle ride from Brooklyn, then the frustration of finding any sort of parking. Striding over to the door, Bucky rang the bell, and we were ushered in by an acolyte to where Dr. Strange was drinking a cup of tea and Wong was standing there wringing his hands. Before we could even say anything the two men looked at me, then at each other, then at Bucky.

"Where did you find her?" asked Wong.

That wolfish grin briefly appeared again on Bucky's face. "In my bed. Says she's not my wife, so where is she?"

"That is a good question," said Strange, placing his teacup on the table and approaching me, assessing me in a way that was a little disturbing. "Well, this explains a lot. You're from the real world, aren't you? Beyond the fourth wall."

"Yes, I guess. I'm a fanfiction writer and was taking a nap. When I woke up it was next to him." I pointed at Bucky. "The thing is, he's nothing like the Bucky Barnes character that I write about."

"What's different about him?" Strange's one eyebrow was higher than the other. It was one thing seeing it in the movies but another thing seeing it in person. "Is there a problem with my face?"

"No, no. The biggest difference is that the Bucky's I write are monogamous and this one is polyamorous."

"And? That's a problem?"

I became aware that I was in the middle of all three men, and they were looking at me as if I were lunch, served on a platter just for them.

"Stop!" I barked. "Yeah, it's a problem, okay? Is this a polyamorous universe? Because I'm not! I'm married to one man, and I want to go back to him. Please, you must find a way to get me back to where I belong."

Wong backed away from me first. "She's right. Consent is still required in this universe. Plus, with her being from beyond the fourth wall we could really hurt her. She's actual flesh and blood ... we're fictional characters."

Dr. Strange backed away, returning to his cup of tea. Bucky, well, he just sprawled on a couch as if he had always lived there.

"Tell me about what you were doing before you slept," said Strange.

I told him about the physical changes to Bucky's appearance based on the leaked preview of Thunderbolts* and how the fandom was worrying about his portrayal, and the fact that after a six part series of him and Sam becoming friends Marvel just casually split them apart into two different movies as if the other didn't even exist.

"You care about him," said Strange, his voice neutral. "You want him to be happy."

"Well, yeah," I replied. "The man lost everything that mattered to him and was tortured for 70 years, experimented on, and forced to become a killer for a gang of authoritarian thugs. My thing, my contribution to fanfiction is that Bucky gets a happy ending."

"Sweetheart, I have that," said the super soldier, from where he sat on the couch. "I admit that I am fucked up, but my wife makes me happy and her interest in our extramarital activities is the same as mine. Yet, you treat me like I'm some sort of deviant."

"No, it's not that." I sighed. "Other writers see you in this way and that's fine; that's their thing and lots of people read them and enjoy them but I guess I just like you better when you're monogamous, kind and gentle. To someone like me, this version of you is a bit scary and overwhelming."

"That's fair," he murmured. "You look like my wife. Does your husband look like me?"

"No, not at all," I smiled. "He's shorter, balding, not as fit. But he loves me and he's faithful, kind, and gentle. He beta reads my stories, and I even wrote a Black Widow smut piece just for him. I think he imagines me as his Black Widow sometimes."

Bucky grinned, then nodded his head approvingly.

"Do they break the fourth wall in this Thunderbolts* movie?" asked Wong.

"I don't know. It hasn't come out yet and there's been very few previews of it. I think the only Marvel character that breaks the fourth wall is Deadpool. His movie with Wolverine just came out recently and is making a ton of money."

Both Dr. Strange and Wong perked up. "Deadpool? As in Wade Wilson?"

I nodded. "Yeah, he's fully aware in the movies and comic books that he's fictional. He often breaks the fourth wall."

My voice tapered off. Was I here because of Deadpool?

"Sunshine, have you seen the movie?" Bucky was also sitting upright.

I nodded my head. "My husband and I went to see the matinee just a few days ago."

A green glow emanated from the time stone as Dr. Strange went to wherever he went when he activated it. Wong watched him carefully as did Bucky. Then the Supreme Sorcerer stopped his permutations and gazed at me.

"The Time Variance Authority are in this movie," he stated. "I have a feeling they're involved in this. But why they would take someone from the real world and place them here is a mystery to me."

Suddenly a TVA portal opened in front of us, and B-15 walked out followed by me, at least a version of me, wearing only a T-shirt and panties. Bucky jumped up from the couch.

"Doll? Is it you?"

"Oh Daddy, I was so afraid," she cried, as he wrapped his arms around her. "I woke up in a cell and didn't know how I got there, and ...." She noticed me. "She's me."

"I'm sorry," said B-15, looking at me. "A terrible mistake was made. Beyond the fourth wall is usually forbidden to our hunters but when you went to see the Deadpool movie your presence was noticed in the theatre with your Bucky variant."

"Wait, my husband is a Bucky variant?"

The leader of the TVA smiled. "Well, yes. It's why you write Bucky Barnes fanfiction. You see him as Bucky and yourself as the original female character. You don't have to look alike to be a variant. It's just that you're kind of the model for the OFC in your own universe where you draw your inspiration from. It's supposed to be a private universe and off limits to the TVA. Unfortunately, one of our hunters didn't understand that. He removed Mrs. Barnes here as an illegal variant and installed you as the original in this universe. He has been sent for judgement and won't be in a position to do that again. We are also making sure all of our hunters are aware that the Bucky Barnes fanfiction that you write and read in your own private universe is just that, private, at least to us."

"So how do we get this Mrs. Barnes back to her universe beyond the fourth wall?" asked Dr. Strange. "I have the feeling it's beyond my capabilities."

B-15 smiled at him. "It is but not beyond mine. As soon as she's ready to go I'll open a portal back to her universe."

It sounded simple and like many movies, a little bit of a quick fix, but I wanted to go back so I wasn't going to question it. Wong smiled at me.

"Good luck on the next one shot," he said.

I nodded at him, then Dr. Strange looked at me in that superior way he sometimes had. "I knew there would be a logical solution."

"Right."

Bucky was next, his wife already wearing his leather jacket.

"Oh, this is yours," I said, starting to take the one I had off.

"Keep it sweetheart, as a souvenir," he smirked. "Say hi to your husband for me. Tell me something. The lady there said something about the fiction you read. Does that mean you do read the polyamorous stuff, since you ended up in my bed?"

I sighed as I hated being put in a position of agreeing. "Every so often one captures my eye," I admitted. "Doesn't mean it's something I'm interested in trying."

"If you say so." He glanced at his wife with affection. "You came through for me. I appreciate it."

I looked at B-15. "I'm ready."

She nodded at the others, then punched a few buttons on her TemPad. A portal opened and I walked through it, then felt the touch of my husband's hand on my shoulder as I was still on top of the bed.

"Honey? Wake up."

I sat up, saw my husband, and felt a rush of affection for him.

"Sorry, I took a nap, and I guess I was more tired than what I thought."

"No worries," he smiled. "Um, did you go shopping today? Is that a new jacket and jeans and boots?"

I was still in the other Mrs. Barnes' clothing.

"Yes?" I answered, tentatively.

He smiled and nodded his head appreciatively. "I like them. Makes you look hot. You should wear stuff like that more often." Offering me his hand, he helped me up. "What do you think of taking a ride on the bike and going to a diner for dinner? My treat."

"Sounds like a plan," I answered. "Just let me freshen up a little."

When I got outside my husband was already waiting on his Vespa. I know what you're thinking ... a Vespa is not a motorcycle. Maybe not in the traditional sense but it is what we have and it's a lot of fun. I still get to wrap my arms around my husband's waist and maybe he doesn't have a hard body like Bucky Barnes, but he's all mine and I don't have to share him with anyone. Besides, now that I know he's a Bucky variant I understand how he knows what I like between the sheets, if you get what I mean. When I do write smut, I'm writing about my Bucky, the one I live with in this universe, beyond the fourth wall.

One Shots Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #bucky barnes oneshot #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #multiverse #TVA #bucky barnes variants #writing something silly

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renren-006 · 2 months ago

Text

Reading Nook (Visualization) | Steve Rogers & implied x reader

This actualy was an assignment in class and I kinda just started writing about Steve and what his life could look like behind the scenes! enjoyyyyy

He had a small house in Brooklen after he was brought back from the dead/out of the ice. The house was small with a nice living room and big windows. Hed often sit in the recliner by the window, reading old books he used to him high school or catching up on the news. It was often calming finding him sitting there on his days off. This wasn't Captain America, this was Steve Rogers. He lost so much after the war and after coming back so far in the future. Him taking these times to have moments of being himself again allowed him to feel grounded. Sometimes you would even find him drawing, sketching out funny scenes or even of the neighborhood. Many times it was of the older couples on the block with their spouses. It was a sweet moment that he would capture, and he would always leave a copy of it on their porch.

The days he sat on the reclining chair, book in hand the light coming through the white curtains always cast a haze on him. He looked calm, at peace, no sign of worry on his face. This was your favorite moment. You would join him, sitting on the couch. You put your computer on your lap working on whatever work needed to be started for the week. These moments together would make him happy, he never told you, but he always smiled when you would sit with him, doing your own thing while he did his. These were the moments he wished he had not missed so much of.

On the days Steve had to leave for a mission, he would always wake up early. He would glance over at you before slipping into the bathroom to get ready. He'd leave before you woke up and arrive days later after you had gone to bed. You would wake up feeling the dip, being back in bed and rolling over to see Steve's hair a mess and looking like a zombie. He wouldn't wake up that day, sleeping through until the next morning finding him back in his chair, The hobbit in hand.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fandom #fanfic writing #fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #drabble #xreader

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gojoswhitebabydolllashes · 4 months ago

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The decline and fall of two wolverines

Logan howlett x reader

DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS!!!

Warnings: idk yet. The brain emoji represents when a flashback is starting.

🧠

I tried to murder Jean Grey.

I say tried because nothing can happen in the mansion without Xavier poking around in your brain.

'Are you sure that's what you want to do?'

'You know you can't turn back after this'

'Your better than this, you know that'

His voice echoed painfully through my head. I held my dagger tightly as tears streamed from my eyes.

'Come to me, child'

The pain grew deeper. Invading each cavity of my skull and destroying my senses completely. It was unbearable, and I thought I might explode within seconds if I didn't get out of here soon.

'STOP. FOR GODSAKE STOP IT!'

And this is when I learnt that I could talk back.

-----

The mission to destroy Cassandra Nova was not going to be easy. Despite Wade's excitement to, and i quote verbatim 'absolutely shred some fucking skulls' it turns out I would end up siding with Logan, who also felt strongly that this was a horrible idea.

"You are going to get killed." I put my head in my hands.

"It's worth it, we'd rather die doing this than die here like cowards" Elektra scoffed.

I glared at her and stood up. The floorboards beneath me creaked eerily as I strode toward elektra with a slit eyes.

''Are you calling me a coward?"

I watched the woman gulp. "No, I called him a coward. He's the one forcing you to stay here," she pointed at Logan, who furrowed his brows and expelled his long silver claws from both hands.

A coward?

A fucking coward?

I held up my hand, and within an instant, it began to transform into a long knife. From my wrist to the top of my head was a silver blade.

I wish I could say I had a cool name for it. But I don't. I'm just a human katana.

"I'm sure your a great person, but unless you want to start drinking through a fucking straw I suggest you apologize"

The room was silent. I felt as if i had ruined their moment, but I didn't care.

"Sorry, you're not a coward." she rolled her eyes and walked off.

I retracted my hand blade, but Logan still held his own out, the shining metal claws protruding ominously as he stood in the light of the window.

I turned around and looked at everyone.

"Motherfucker that was scary as shit. I almost cut off my own dick to stop you doing it with that fucking thing"

Even Wade's joke couldn't stop my anger. I wasn't going with them. They were all going to die anyways. I'd rather hear of it than be there to watch it.

🧠

I'm not sure that there's anyone left on earth who understands what loss means.

Yes, it's death. Yes, it's watching life drain from a person. But it can be the loss of your life together too and the loss of their love and their voice, how their breathing sounds and how they laugh.

Hell what the fuck do I know. After all what have I truly lost?

God fucking damn it.

The years at the TVA were not as smooth going as I had initially hoped. Each day was something new, another disaster. I had even written a list of the reoccurring people, the ones that we could basically never get rid of.

Monday: always scarlet witch. Always so tattered and torn, shivering with heartbreak and anger of grief.

Tuesday: Loki's. Loki's of every kind. Ragnarok Loki's, TVA Loki's, jotun Loki's even.

Wednesday: Perhaps the most shattering of all, we would get iron man variants quite often. Sometimes, a zombie sometimes just before the blip. Most times, it was before he built the iron Man suit at all.

Thursdays: Captain America. Now, these were tough ones. Their were a fucking lot of these. Zombie ones, soldier ones, ones still frozen somehow. Pre serum ones. Ones where he works for HYDRA. Those are the scariest ones, the red skull Steve Rogers is not for the faint hearted.

Fridays: Fridays were... well Friday.

I sat outside the hut as the others geared up for their mission. Logan had come with me, but he didn't say much. My Logan talked way too much, so it was awkward hearing him be so silent.

"Your not going?" I spoke.

"Nah. I don't have the fucking patience for it"

A small moment of silence ensued before Logan spoke again.

"That hand thing you can do," he started. "Is it all over you?"

I scratched my neck and yawned. "To be honest, I've never thought of it"

I looked at my legs and stretched them out. "If I could have knife legs it would sure make walking interesting" I laughed

Logan beside me chuckled. God, he even laughs like him.

"I thought I was the only one who had this kind of power," he said as he brought out one of his claws.

"I thought I used to be as well. Your claws are made of adamantium aren't they? Well your entire skeleton is isn't it?"

He replied with a hum. "So what's yours then? Stainless steel?" He joked

I laughed at his words. "No. Actually, it's Vibranium"

"Vibranium, huh? What's that like a vibrating metal?"

It occurred to me then and there that this Logan doesn't know about the multiverse.

"No, it's uh, one of the earths strongest metals. like from wakanda?" I smiled nervously.

Apparently, something in him ticked off as I said that. He grew out the rest of his claws on his hand and pushed me against the tree behind me with one swift move. I was crushed between adamantium spikes and a rough tree.

He scowled at me.

"You will never be my wife." He spat

Venom laced the air around us. Encasing me in a bubble of fear.

"You might look like her and talk like her, hell you even fucking smell like her, that stupid fucking flower scent. Follows you around like a lost puppy"

The hate in his eyes grew each word. "You are not my fucking wife and I don't give a single fuck about what happened in your universe, whether you saved my life or not, I hope in every single one of them, you fucking die"

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #xmen

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year ago

Note

For the 3000 celebration can you write one with Pietro Maximoff and prompt 25

Maybe it’s set at like Halloween and Pietro dresses up as a cowboy so the prompt makes sense

.⋆｡Musketeer And The Cowboy｡⋆.

Pietro Maximoff x plus size reader

Halloween brings out the worst in all of us

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, drinking, the Avengers being the Avengers

WC: 885

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

3000 Follower Celebration

Tony found any and all reasons to throw a party. Fourth of July, New Years, Thanksgiving, even fucking Arbour day got a celebration that included luxury foods and so much alcohol that even thinking about it gave you a hangover.

But by far his Halloween bashes were the most mind blowing. He went all out, even going so far as to turn part of the tower into a truly frightening haunted house. The halls were filled with hyper-realistic decorations and people with extravagant costumes.

You found it fun, it was pretty much like a kid’s party on steroids. You gorged yourself on candy while getting drunk with your favourite people in the world while you all pretended to be someone or something else, in the case of Clint’s famous candy corn costume, for the evening.

This year, you had a group costume with Wanda and Natasha: sexy three Musketeers. With a truly scandalous amount of skin showing beneath a corset, stockings, killer red heels, a frilly collar, huge hat and a fake sword, you truly felt the role.

You and the girls strolled into the huge ballroom absolutely on top of the world. Immediately, Wanda was pulled away by Vision and onto the dance floor while Natasha made a b-line for the bar, leaving you with a red lipstick stain on your cheek and a wink.

But you weren’t phased, instead you happily strolled over to the small gathering of some of the older Avengers, gunning for the flask Thor always carried at parties. “Good morrow sirs, perchance you have a nip of ale for me.” You laid the old English accent on thick as you planted yourself by Steve who was dressed as a zombie businessman. He rolled his eyes and handed you his spiked beer.

“Thank you, my good man.” Thor (who was a playboy bunny this year) beamed at you. You sipped the stronger than normal beer and nodded at the rest of the men in the group. “We have some mixed effort here- Bucky looks like he gave up but Sam, you look great!” Sam, in a very elaborate Dracula

costume, turned to Bucky, who wore Steve’s Captain America uniform.

“See! I told you that you looked stupid!” Bucky’s left eye twitched.

“No you told me that no one dresses up for Halloween anymore so I shouldn’t bother with a costume.” He grumbled, arms folding dangerously over his chest. You giggled and handed the beer back to your surrogate brother.

“Has anyone seen Pietro? He wanted to do the haunted house with me.” Steve shrugged.

“He wasn’t here when I got here but he may be trying to spar with Hulk, again.” You glanced over to where Tony (Patrick Bateman) and Bruce (Doctor Frankenstein) were drinking in a quiet corner with Peter (Han Solo), most likely chatting about their little science projects. But there was no silver-haired man with them.

“Hmm.” You hummed, resting a hand on the hilt of your fake blade. “I’ll go for a wander and see if I can find him. Oh and Bucky, the suit looks good on you.” Immediately, the super soldier perked up and a smirk crossed his face.

“Thank you.” He smugly responded while grinning at Sam who just rolled his eyes. Satisfied with the chaos you released about to unfold, you journeyed back into the crowd on the search for your boyfriend.

There were cheerleaders, werewolves, some cheap Avengers costumes, but there was no speedster. After you passed what seemed to be the 20th Black Widow, a flash of silver caught your attention.

Pietro was leaning against a column just outside the party, his bright blue eyes fixed firmly on your generous curves. He was fully decked out in scuffed jeans held up by a thick belt with a gun holster, a leather vest with a red plaid shirt, an expensive pair of cowboy boots and a large Stetson in his hands. As he caught your eye, he flipped the hat perfectly onto his head while smoothly placing a fake cigarette between his teeth with his other hand.

“Well howdy there little lady.” He drawled with an awful attempt at a southern accent.

“Hi there cowboy.” You purred, heels clacking on the expensive flooring as you approached. “I’ve never seen a cowboy without a lasso.” You gestured to his belt where an empty clip hung on his thigh. Pietro smirked deviously.

He grabbed you by the hips as you got close enough, tugging you into his chest. “I think you’ll find zat my lasso is somewhere more convenient.” His hands slipped down to your ass, grabbing the soft flesh beneath the tiny skirt you wore. He rolled his hips into your plush stomach, letting you feel his growing bulge.

“And where is that?” You played along, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in his silver hair.

Pietro lowered his face to your ear, gently biting the lobe before whispering, “You vill have to play along to find out.” He then pulled away from your body. “Come, ve have much to do tonight.”

He took your hand in his own and pulled you into the hall. “It is time for a ride.” He winked, tipping his hat to you. You broke out in a wide smile.

God you loved Halloween.

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nekoannie-chan · 7 months ago

Text

On the run

Title: On the run.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 167 words.

Square: C2 “Locked out.”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Steve and you are on the run.

Major Tags: Zombies.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @steverogersbingo Steve Rogers Bingo round 3. SB3090.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @Smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber

Steve could feel his heart pounding; he'd bet yours was the same. You had to hurry; otherwise, you would be caught.

The only thing you knew was that because of their numbers, you had to escape; there were too many of them to face them, and you were far from their shelter.

“We have to hurry and get back to the shelter as soon as possible," you said while looking for something that could be of use to them, as well as knowing that there was nothing and no one inside.

“I know, but first we have to block the access," Steve replied.

“Steve, you know what to do if any..."

“Don't say it; it won't happen," he assured.

Once you were sure that the zombies couldn't enter the place and that the doors and windows were blocked, you could rest a bit since it had started to get dark and going back would be too dangerous. The next day, you would see which way to go.

#steve rogers bingo #steverogersbingo #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers bingo round 3

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poussacha · 8 months ago

Text

I wanna join! For no other reason than this will make me feel absolutely insane.

So here it is. Everything in my WIP folder, with fandom in parenthesis next to it:

C. bad wolf chapter 1 (Doctor Who/MCU crossover)

Rewriting Victorious (Making Trina the Main Character) (Victorious/iCarlyverse crossover)

ATLA Fic Outline (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Star Vs 2 (Star Vs. The Forces of Evil)

Starstruck (Gay) | Vampire? (Disney's Starstruck DCOM)

CxB (The Santa Clause/s)

Morgan & Eric 2 (Boy Meets World)

eric/jack (Boy Meets World)

F. save the cheerleader, save the world (Stranger Things)

J. of all the bars in all the universe (Glee/Star Wars crossover)

L. Exodus (Loki/Black Widow crossover)

H. the world was so much brighter | the start of something new (Life With Derek/High School Musical Crossover)

G. so, weirder things have happened (Stranger Things/So Weird crossover)

A, Star Vs. (Star Vs. The Forces of Evil)

K. Encanto (Encanto)

D. dicking sucking 101 (Stranger Things)

Robin/Reader fic (Stranger Things)

cut all ties with the morning light (Stranger Things)

Dustin Sees The Fruity Five Kiss Each Other And Is Very Confused (Stranger Things)

fishy boys (Stranger Things)

where my heart used to be (Stranger Things)

Meeting You Series (Doctor Who/MCU crossover)

quirepool (X-Men Comics/Young Avengers Comics crossover)

Idk Felt Cute, Might Post This One (Our Flag Means Death)

Riverjail (Riverdale/Twilight Crossover)

Cat & Novocaine (Fic for my friend's book)

Greg/Tom (Succession)

crash landing into you (Life With Derek)

finger lickin' good (Life With Derek)

Starlet!Casey (Life With Derek)

Down in Flames (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

movie night (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

Untitled document (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

violence is always the answer (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

hellstar augh (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

the world is ending, but baby it's us (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

more than a memory (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

everything you want (Life with Derek)

oral fixation (Life with Derek)

ride, sally, ride (Life with Derek)

but i'm a cheerleader (Life With Derek)

meet me at our spot (Life With Derek)

if that what you're after? some kind of disaster. (Life With Derek)

that summer feeling (Falcon and Winter Soldier)

sambucky 2 (Falcon and Winter Soldier)

the coffee shop AU no one fucking asked for (Loki)

Wolf Song (Doctor Who)

leade me on (Ducktales)

oop (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

Goodnight moon (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

les yeux rouges (X-Men)

make me feel like i am breathing (X-Men)

all the ways we (never) touch (X-Men)

an island in the flood (Loki)

Little Infinities (Loki)

to norway, with love (Loki)

the morning after (Doctor Who/MCU crossover)

OnlyFans Series (MCU)

the twisted tongues of traitors (Loki)

hey, hey, you, you i don't like your girlfriend (Loki)

Untitled document (Loki)

Mobius 2 (Loki)

smoke and mirrors (Loki)

Tiger King (Captain America)

confession (Falcon and Winter Soldier)

I Quit (Falcon and Winter Soldier)

Quack Pack (2021) (Ducktales)

necessary evil (Ducktales)

Own (Iron Man)

SamBucky (Falcon and Winter Soldier)

i never really thought that you'd come tonight (Doctor Who)

2 Fics, One Straight, One Gay - You Choose! (Doctor Who)

Gentle (Ducktales)

Keep Seattle Weird (So Weird)

Chapter 4: Hell or Highwater (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

The Christmas Special (Doctor Who/MCU Crossover)

Naughty (The Grinch)

Evergreen (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

choose me and i'll choose you too (The Happiest Season)

sara is my best friend (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

kindred (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

Untitled document (The Kissing Booth Series)

Swagger (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

Untitled document (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

Hellstar shit 100% (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

Zava (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

Moon Prison (Zombies 2)

Serene, Serenity, Serendipity (Zombies 2)

Denigrate (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

7,700 words friends to lovers z1/john (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

this sunset town (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

more than a memory (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

when in rome (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

adulting (The Kissing Booth Series)

Lap - 700 Words (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

your lips, his fingertips (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

it's not cheating if we don't touch (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

this is how the story ends ch 1: Dragon Girl (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

something like love (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

She does at the end (DC's Legends of Tomorrow)

4 Times Oliver Otto Denies his feelings for Cooper and one time they kiss (American Housewife)

You're Mine (DC's Legends of Tomorrow/The Flash Crossover)

I think I'm Gay (American Housewife)

13/Rose Fanfiction I shouldn't be writing but am bc YOLO (Doctor Who)

Joyride (Transformers)

comment ça se passe (Miraculous)

If you're curious about any of these fics feel free to send me an ask! They're all from the past 2 years, and I can also post snippits :).

alright alright alright alright

Tagged by @fleurywiththesave!

Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs.

lol ok. so.

alphabetical order. fandom in brackets,,, (if its hrpf its absolutely mattdrai). also some of these like belong together in the same world and i have not marked that at all :)))) i'm feral

5 + 1 being caught caramecaeli (d20 - acoc) bad kids at pride (d20 - fantasy high) blue and bluer (hrpf) blue and bluer TBC (hrpf) caramel waves (d20 - acoc) Castle AU - Dasey (lwd) chap 03 - freshman year [untagged] (lwd) dasey exchange 2022 (lwd) dating app mattdrai (hrpf) Dear Penelope (bridgerton) fig etc (prepared for rain) (d20 - fantasy high) france 2k27 [bridgerchuk] (hrpf) L. I. F. E. W. I. T. H. L. U. C. A. (lwd) L. I. F. E. W. I. T. H. S. K. Y. E. pt 4 (lwd) LA Kings Fic (lwd) lazuli (caramelinda) mind dump (d20 - acoc) mattdrai get together notes (hrpf) not NOT a bridgerton au [aka bridgerchuk] (hrpf) on the rocks (d20 - acoc) prompt 181021 (lwd) prompt NEXT (hrpf) rangers!derek (lwd) sandra lynn biopic (d20 - fantasy high) scenes for iris (hrpf) tennis au (hrpf) the last five years (lwd) tkachuk tkollection service (hrpf) two men and a little lady (hrpf)

dasey fam i've not included anything i've posted to my draft ditch on ao3 even tho those are technically also wips in this folder lol

absolutely refusing to tag as many people as i have wips for obvious reason. selecting across fandoms... @betanoiz @wingedflame @puckthisshift @kairos44 @grantairesbottle @folklauerate @whatafuckingbabe @isalovesslowburn

#fanfiction #my fics #doctor who #mcu #miraculous #loki #dc's legends of tomorrow #legends #zombies

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ramen-flavored · 3 years ago

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Oh, what i wouldn’t give for this man

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 3 years ago

Text

End of The Line

Fandom: Marvel, Avengers, Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier

Word Count: 2260

TW: Zombies, Hurt/Comfort, Main Character Death, Implied Reader Death, Friends to Enemies

Bucky found you curled up in a window seat in one of the empty cars near the back of the train. You had a far-off look in your eyes as you stared at the landscape flying by outside. Bucky sighed as he walked over and sat in the seat next to you, gently taking your hand. You looked over and gave him a small smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey, doll. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just needed to get away for a little while. Being around everyone can be a little overwhelming at times.”

Bucky scoffed. “Tell me about it.”

“And don’t get me wrong, I love the kid, but….. the way he treats this whole situation sometimes….” you trail off, shaking your head.

“I know. He’s just trying to stay positive, but he needs to learn to read the room.”

You both sat in silence for a moment before you whispered, “Hey, I’m sorry about Sam. Okoye told me what happened.”

Bucky sighed. “I mean, I feel bad of course, but I never really got the chance to know him that well. I guess he had gotten close with Steve, but honestly, I only met him a couple times. Just once kicking his ass as the Winter Soldier, and then again in Berlin. He stuck his neck out for me and I’m grateful to him, but you knew him better than I did. And besides, we technically lost him weeks ago. That thing wasn’t really him anymore, just something the virus made him into………… But I’m sorry about Happy.”

You nodded sadly. “I mean, it always hurts to lose someone else, but ever since Tony……. Well, Happy and I had gotten even closer recently. So, yeah, this one hurts a bit more.”

Bucky knew that as the SHIELD agent assigned to keep an eye on Tony when he had first become Iron Man, you had known Happy for almost ten years. You had always spoken very highly of him and thought he was an often forgotten or overlooked asset to the team. He had also been the last remaining link you had to that part of your life. First Tony, Nat, and Barton, then Rhodey and Pepper, and just a few days ago, Fury had fallen. Happy had been your last link to your pre-Avengers life and now….

Bucky wrapped his metal arm gently around you and pulled you close to his side. He knew, through everything, you always tried putting on a brave face. You never let yourself break down as you tried to be the rock the rest of the team could lean on. However, he also knew that because of this, you blamed yourself that much more for every person they lost. As you sadly laid your head against his shoulder, Bucky wished he could take some of that burden from you. He wished he could just get you to stop worrying about everyone else for a moment and just focus on yourself.

“Speaking of the kid, did I tell you he broke into my shower with Kurt last week to film one of those stupid survival videos?”

You looked up at Bucky, slightly confused. “No, I would have remembered if you’d mentioned that. Why did they want to film in your shower?”

“Apparently, hygiene is very important because zombies are attracted to pheromones produced from human flesh. However, people are, and I quote, ‘never more vulnerable than when you’re in your birthday suit’. So, Kurt ripped open the curtain while I was showering and tried one of his sneak attacks on me.”

You exploded with astonished laughter. “Wait, wait, wait…. So, you’re telling me they ambushed you in the middle of your shower? Like completely naked, all soaped up? And this is the moment Kurt tried to attack you?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“And you let them live? Oh my god, I’ve got to see this video!” You chuckled, a dazzling smile stretched across your face. It was the first time Bucky could remember seeing you truly happy since all of this started. Reaching out, he placed his free hand lightly under your chin as he pulled you in. When your lips met, Bucky could still feel the smile on your face.

When he eventually pulled away, you rested your forehead against his and whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what, doll?”

“For everything. For picking me up when I need it most. For reminding me there is life beyond all this pain and suffering. For just being you.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you," he said. "You met me at my lowest point and yet somehow saw past the terrible things I had done to see the man that I used to be, that I wanted to be again. You helped me to be strong enough to face my past while also striving for my future. You gave me something to fight for, and I promise to keep fighting for you every single day, fighting for us.”

Bucky pulled your lips into his once more but while your last exchange had been sweet and tender, this one was passionate and hungry. The two of you had spent months alone together in Wakanda while Bucky was being deprogrammed but this was the first time since the virus started that you had allowed yourselves such an intimate moment. Every frantic kiss pulsed with affections that were too complex, too intense to put into words. Each caress was filled with endless love and devotion as you each tried to express what the other meant to you. As you tangled your fingers into Bucky’s hair and pulled him deeper into you, a moan rumbled in his throat. Sliding your lips to his ear, you breathed, “Hey soldier, how about we –”

A sudden scream from the back of the train brought you both to your feet in seconds. “Sharon,” Bucky exclaimed as he took off towards the sound, you close on his heels.

Bursting through the door of the caboose, the two of you stumbled to a halt. There was little you could do but watch in dismay as the dark form hunched over Sharon’s unmoving body bent to take another bite out of her neck. Even in the dim lighting, you both recognized the intruder.

“I think you’ve had enough, Cap.” Bucky said as he stared miserably at what was left of his best friend. Even with the blueish-green skin, the patches of decayed flesh, and glowing yellow eyes, Bucky could still see the man he used to be and he hesitated. Despite the comment he had just made to you about these creatures no longer being the people they once were, he couldn’t help but wonder. The entire reason they were even on this train was in the pursuit of a cure. If there was one, if they could find it, was there still a way to save Steve?

But then he felt your hand rest softly on his back and Bucky snapped back to reality. It ultimately didn’t matter if there was a way to save Steve. Right now, this virus was making him a threat to the train full of people Bucky cared about, and Bucky wasn’t going to risk losing anyone else on the small chance that a cure might eventually be found.

Besides, the Steve he knew would have never hurt him. In fact, Steve had almost let Bucky kill him when Bucky had been the Winter Soldier just because he refused to give up on his best friend. And, truthfully, Bucky was still willing to die for Steve. If his death meant that Steve would miraculously return to his former self, he would have laid down his life in a second. But the reality of the situation was if Bucky didn’t fight back, it would not only mean his death, but there was a good chance it would mean the death of everyone else on the train. Fighting one undead super soldier was going to be hard enough, fighting two would be next to impossible. So, against every instinct in his body, Bucky raised his gun at the fallen hero.

The creature that used to be Steve (it was easier for Bucky to think of it as a creature than his friend) snarled when it noticed the two fresh new victims at the other end of the train car. It raised an all too familiar shield, dripping with blood and gore, and charged towards its next meal. Bucky opened fire as he rushed to meet him. The bullets bounced harmlessly off the shield and the two soldiers soon collided in a tangle of fists and metal. The creature still had all of Steve’s former knowledge and abilities but with an added savagery to his fighting that Bucky wasn’t expecting. Several times gnawing teeth just barely missed grazing Bucky’s skin. Finally, Bucky found an opening and kicked the creature firmly in the chest, sending it flying backward.

Just then, the thing that had once been Sharon Carter lunged at Bucky’s side. Using his metal arm, he effortlessly threw her to the ground behind him. He heard a shot and, glancing back, he saw you put two more bullets into its head. However, this momentary distraction was enough for creature Steve to once more charge at Bucky, sending them both toppling to the floor. Bucky struggled frantically to keep the chomping jaws away from him, but the virus had made the creature too strong. Just as Bucky thought he was done for, you launched yourself at the creature. You cried out as your momentum sent both of you skidding across the floor towards the open rear door. As soon as you came to rest, you rolled quickly to the side to escape the creature, but it stood and began advancing on you.

“Hey!” Bucky yelled. The creature turned towards him with a growl. Ripping the shield from its arm, it chucked it hard at the soldier. Bucky caught it with ease and whirled it back the direction it came from. The creature didn’t even react as the shield sliced cleanly through its body before lodging itself in the doorway of the train. Bucky took one last look at his friend as Cap split in two and tumbled from the train. He slowly walked over to the door and looked out. “Sorry, pal. I guess this is the end of the line.”

And with that, Bucky yanked the shield from where it was wedged in the doorway. He stared down at it mournfully for a moment before securing it carefully to his back. He knew that someone had to carry on Steve’s legacy, but he had never wanted to carry the shield. He hadn’t wanted to carry it even back in 1945 when Steve had first received it or when, months later, he had been forced to use it on that train in the mountains. Right before his life went to hell. God damn, he hated trains!

“Bucky….”

He turned away from the door and his heart stopped in his chest. Your arm was outstretched and Bucky could clearly see the deep, bloody imprint of Steve’s teeth on your skin. He rushed to your side, desperately chanting, “No, no, no, no.”

“I’m sorry. He had you pinned down, and I thought I could…… He was just too fast.”

Bucky could feel your skin already becoming cold and clammy beneath his fingers, the virus circulating quickly through your body, helped by all the adrenaline in your system. He prodded the wound gently with his metal fingers. “Does it hurt?”

“At first, but now it’s just kind of numb…… and it is spreading.” You looked up at him with wide, teary eyes. You both knew what this meant, but neither of you wanted to be the first to say it.

“You’ll be fine. Do you hear me? We should be at Camp Lehigh soon and they’ll have the cure. You just need to hold on a little longer and we can fix this.”

“Bucky, there’s not enough time. The virus is progressing too quickly. I can feel it.” You gazed longingly at him, resting your hand gently on his cheek as you tried to memorize every inch of his face. At that moment, all he wanted to do was sweep you up in his arms, press his lips against yours, and never let go. He wanted to go back to the way the two of you had been just moments ago, wrapped in each other’s loving embrace. And he could see that you felt the same way. But you both knew that the virus mainly spread through saliva, and that even the smallest peck could doom Bucky to a similar fate.

So instead, you backed away from him, stopping only once you were framed in the doorway he had just knocked Steve out of. “I need you to do something for me, okay? Don’t give up. There are other people here who need you to fight for them, just as hard as you have always fought for me. I know you can do this. You were strong before we met, and I need you to stay strong after I’m gone. Please, promise me.”

Bucky stared at you, a look of longing and pain etched on his face. “Doll…. Please…. I’ve lost everyone else I love, I can’t lose you too.”

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I love you so much, but don’t you get it? You already have.” And with that, you leaned back, allowing your body to topple off of the train.

#sfw repost #fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter solider #winter solider x reader #winter soldier x you #sebastian stan #captain america #marvel #what if #marvel what if #zombies #bitten tw #zombies tw #main character death tw #reader death tw

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simpurnatural · 3 years ago

Text

Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

Chapter 1 of 14

“A limited series that revolves around What if...Zombies?! and the chaos that unravels in the span of 2 weeks for Renee Cooper.”

SERIES MASTERLIST = PREVIOUS || NEXT

Warning ⚠️: SPOILER WARNING FOR EPISODE 5 OF “WHAT IF?”, swearing, violence, and mentions of anxiety and depression. (<- May not apply to every chapter)

Note that Renee Cooper is totally made up by me (Nat - Simpurnatural) and has been inserted into to the plot for this fan-write!

Any writing errors? Point them out! Love some helpful feedback!<3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND ENJOY LUVS <3

“Out of all the ways you could’ve brought the band back together,” you say, motioning quotation marks with your hands, “-telling us that zombies are a thing is not a scenario I had in mind,” you shrug.

A sigh was heard from the other end of the phone before they decided to speak, “Well, how ‘bout you turn on the TV and check the news?” Tony asks.

You looked around in search for a remote, grabbing it from the nightstand and turning on the television. Flickered through a few shows finding a news channel and turning up the volume.

“The city of San Francisco, now currently under quarantine, has cases shooting through the roof-” the news reporter announces. “Doctors are working around the clock in full body hazmat suits.” they explain.

“Any more information concerning what caused it?” a news anchor asks.

“It’s still unsure who or what has begun the spread but we will have more information on it shortly. Back to you guys at the station.” the reporter nods.

“Tony, what’s happening?” you ask, looking around the room and beginning to pack your belongings.

“Not sure yet Renee. But we’re gonna need all hands on deck for this one,”.

...

“Sorry to cut your little hiatus short,” Tony mumbles as he struts into the room, tablet in hand. “Still waiting on Cap and the others,” he adds, taking a seat beside you.

“It’s fine,” you reply as sunk into the seat to get more comfortable “Felt like I was running out of places to hide anyway,” you explain “Ross was on my ass almost every-time.”.

“You know, I don’t understand why you even went into hiding.” Tony hums, turning to you.

“Oh, I helped the other side in more ways than you think,” you huffed as multiple pairs of footsteps were heard.

Clint, Sam, Nat, Steve, and T’Challa waltzed into the room with tired smiles. Gear in hand and ready for the fight, just like the good old days. But now, you weren’t sure if there were any of those left.

“Renee,” Nat grinned, welcoming you in her arms “Glad to see you in good shape,” she says as you pulls away for you to hug the others.

“Thanks,” you beam before finding yourself in front of Steve. Who you had a secret (not so secret) fling with before the Accords. Pushing that aside, you pulled him into a hug “Nice beard,”.

“Okay, let’s get this meeting started.” Tony huffs, clasping his hands together.

‘Wait, this is everyone?” asked Sam, which was question everyone else thought.

“Everyone who responded to my phone call? Yep,” Tony confirmed, a pang of sadness hit you.

Did everyone really not want to fight one last time? Try to save the world from what seemed to be its impending doom? You realized something else, what if they were already dead too?

Everyone took their seats and turned to the holographic images being projected from the center of the table.

“So, the world is tearing itself apart by something that’s turning everything in its path into zombies.” He explains, as if it were the easiest concept in the world. “I’ve been getting radio signals from civilians that need help,”.

“This is a rescue mission?” asked Clint, “Where would we even take them?” he questioned.

“The avengers compound, state of the art and built to withstand well...an apocalypse” the billionaire explains.

“Say we house them here, how long will that plan work? Resources like food and what not’ll run out eventually,” Nat says.

“-And what do you propose we do with the walking dead?” T’Challa asks.

“Kill as much as we can,” You reply. “Figure out weaknesses and hit em’ where it hurts. Maybe we could even find a cure!” you add, trying to give them all hope.

“This isn’t like something we’ve dealt with before. They aren’t robots we can switch off or aliens we can shove through a portal.” Clint counters, obviously frustrated.

“Then how will we know how to stop them if we don’t at least try?” Steve asks, finally joining the discussion.

“There’s the Cap we all know a love,” Tony sighs, “We start tomorrow,” he announces.

...

That night, you threw together dinner and the group sat in the living area. Besides the jazz playing the background, everyone ate in a comfortable silence. You allowed yourself to bask in the last remaining moments of normalcy.

When you walked into your room, everything was just how you left it. Minus the countless used mugs of coffee. But the posters, photos of the team, and tickets from plays and games. Memories.

KNOCK KNOCK

“Come in,” you say and watch the door knob turn.

“Hey,” Steve grins, approaching you with a freshly shaved face. He looked around your room and chuckled “Tony left my office just-“

“-How you left it, huh?” You sigh with smile, taking a seat on your bed and patting the empty spot beside you.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. That smile had you wrapped around his finger in an instant. “You okay?” he asks, watching you space out.

You nodded wordlessly as he took you hand and traced random shapes on it. His tracing dragged slowly up your arm, to your shoulder, then your chin.

You turned to face him with a dark shade of pink overtaking your features. Steve knew that if he said anything, it would ruin the moment because he would get nervous and ramble.

...

“Come on,” Steve breathed as Bucky kept running towards the quinjet.

Confusion glazed over his eyes as you let go of his hand. You looked back to Nat, who was holding back T’Challa. Then you turned back to Steve and cupped his cheek.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” You sighed at feeling of him relaxing at your touch. “I’m sorry,” you repeated as a tear stained your face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve assured, pulling you into a hug without hesitation. He took in a deep breath and let out a sob. “Look I’m sure you-I mean we will-Could you-“

You gave him a bittersweet smile as he tried to put his words together before saying…

…

“Just kiss me like you’ll miss me,”

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xneens · 4 years ago

Text

chapter 1: a party to die for

Warnings: violence throughout, explicit sexual content, swearing, the undead, implied traumatic experiences

Word count: 3k

series masterlist

Two weeks earlier

The smell of cheap beer made you inhale, sighing happily at the familiar smell. People busied themselves, playing volleyball, drinking, dancing, or just hanging out with their friends. Even the loud cheers from the lake whenever someone threw themselves in made you smile. Grabbing a beer from the nearest cooler, you grinned, taking a sip. Drinking alcohol when you were finally legal was refreshing. To say the least, it was the perfect summer day.

Jace, your best friend since forever, stood beside you, studying the scene in front of him. You had your suspicions the only reason he had attended was to show off his newly dyed brown hair. Even with your efforts, he still pulled a Niall Horan, turning the blond into a brunette. And just like Niall, the aftermath looked even better.

"This is giving me some serious high school flashbacks." Jace commented, eyes narrowing at the lake, littered with food floaties, a few shaped like a penis, and one looking exactly like Tom Cruise. "I'm waiting for that one group of girls that wear their cheerleading outfit even though school is over. Scott doesn't believe it's real."

Ever since that faithful day in second grade, you've been friends with the former blond, getting in trouble together, at one point—while high—almost hiding a body that turned out to be another passed out drunk. And just like every friendship, you've fought over the dumbest shit, but in the end, you always made up, mostly with him coming to you to apologize, and sometimes you'd admit you were to blame. To say he was your ride or die was an understatement. You would've killed a whole city of people for him.

In middle school, he had come as bisexual, first to you and with your help, to his parents. Fortunately, they were very accepting of his choices, letting him be himself without restraint. But Jace mostly dated girls due to the lack of diversity in your small hometown; that didn't mean he didn't like his daily dosage of male eye candy.

Calling Solaris a small town might've been a bit off. Yes, it had less than ten thousand residents but the surrounding areas were popular, especially with both high school and college parties. Georgians might not be as crazy as their southern neighbor, Florida, but they do like to party, just like everyone else without social anxiety.

Usually high school parties weren't your thing after graduating, but you had to admit, this one was very fun. They even got the word to spread across campus, bringing in a reasonable amount of college students, and Jace decided it was time to visit the town you both came from after spending Christmas break in Australia instead of with your families.

Stripping down to your bikini, you let the vitamin D soak into your skin, enjoying the warmth. "So, tell me, this Scott, is he a boy friend or a boyfriend."

Catching the emphasis, Jace grinned, taking off his shirt as he winked in response. "Not sure yet. I'm hoping for the latter but he sure is taking his sweet time. You could say I got myself a daddy."

"How old is he, babe?" you asked, placing your phone on top of your clothes. Jace had made sure to bring a beach blanket after the last time he forgot and came home with wet sand stuck inside his shoes. The sand was warm, almost too warm for you to savor.

"37, just a decade and a half older. That's not too bad, right? Don't answer that, I know for a fact that you dated men in their late 30s as soon as you turned 18, you don't get to judge." he said, gulping down the rest of your beer. He dropped his phone on pile of clothes, hands resting at his hips. "He's an actor."

"Does he have a brother?" you teased.

Jace smirked, nodding. "His brother's an actor, too. A pretty big one actually. The guy plays—"

Someone called out your name before Jace could finish. Turning around, you saw a group of girls, a bunch of ass-kissing college sophomores—or next year juniors—walking towards you with a drunken smile on their face. Faking one, you died a little inside, not wanting to spend even a day in your summer with these fake bitches.

"Hi!" Lucy greeted, the 'leader' of whatever group they had formed. Seeing how small the group had gotten, it looked like the main girls had gotten the memo. The redhead flipped her hair, the sun practically bouncing off her head. "You made it! We were wondering when you'd show up."

Jace snorted, focusing his attention on finding the cheerleaders for Scott while you tried not to die. Turning back to the girls, you nodded, wishing for aliens to come to Earth and kidnap you. "Yeah, well, I never miss a party."

"Hey, babe, you wanna jump in the water?" Jace blurted, pointing at the rope that would swing over the lake, a bunch of people using the rope to cannonball right into the water. The girls agreed with your best friend, almost pushing you to the tree where the rope was held.

Ready to get rid of the ass-kisser, you grabbed hold of the rope, catching everyone's attention as you prepared yourself for the dive. Pushing off the huge tree, you swung yourself to the farthest the rope would manage before letting go, swinging your legs above you to do a backflip for extra flair, straightening your body out just before you hit the water.

Muffled cheers was heard from beneath the water, and you smiled just before coming up for air. Moving your hair out of your face, you swam to the nearest floatie, parking your ass on it as the others moved to make room for you, handing you their beer but you declined, not wanting to get sick. Looking at the shore, you noticed Jace turning his back on the girls, completely dismissing their bullshit.

He caught your eye, and being the dork he is, he gave you a thumbs up, grading your flip with his hand. You flipped him off before jumping back in the water, unable to handle the group you had joined. To their defense, they were drunk, just not the kind of drunks you wanted to hang out with.

Swimming back to the shore, you made sure to stay away from the group of girls, spotting a few friends you went to high school with waving you over. Jace was nowhere to be seen, probably on the search for them cheerleaders or sneaking away to call his new daddy. You'd have to get more information on this Scott guy but with the way Jace had been smiling, you decided he was good for your best friend.

The party dragged on, lunch coming and passing but no one bothered to leave considering how much food people brought. Well, not food, just big bags of potato chips and Cheetos, so basically packaged poison. But it was enough to satisfy your hungry stomach. The day was going well, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, people were having fun, and it was summer. Life couldn't have gotten any better than that.

And you had been right.

It started just around one o'clock, the hysterical girl coming out of the woods near the lake, breathing heavily as she ran away from the horrors of the forest. She grabbed the closest person to her, screaming in their face but no one could comprehend what she was saying and she wasn't calming down, only getting more and more agitated by the second.

"Run!" she lets out a blood-curdling scream, pushing a group of frat boys away from the forest. They flinched away from her while others tried to soothe the girl. From your point of view, you could see the sweat beading off her forehead. "I said, run!"

"Someone call an ambulance!" the boy next to the crazed woman shouted into the crowd. He tried to calm her but all it did was get him a shove back. "Hey! Hey! It's fine. Nothing's coming for us. We're safe, okay?"

She lets out another scream, her eyes rolling back into her head and finally the crowd took a step back, except for the guy who was trying to help out. The girl fell onto her knees, the only thing keeping her up was the guy, who tried so desperately to quiet her cries. Just as she shouted some incoherent words out, you felt a hand touch your shoulder. Turning around, you saw it was just Jace.

"There you are. I was worried for a second." he said, sighing in relief. Standing close to you, he kept one eye on the crazy girl, one eye on you. Jace had always been overprotective with you, especially after the night you almost got into a car accident after a party. It was hell after that. "What do you think is wrong with her?"

You shrugged, looking away from the girl, and spotted someone on the phone, probably calling for an ambulance. "I don't know. My guess was that she came from a mental institution but I don't think there's any near here. Maybe she got bitten by a radioactive spider. She's kind of scaring me."

"Me, too." Jace flinched as soon as the girl pushed the guy off of her, screaming her lungs out with the most blood curdling screech. At this point, everyone had taken a step back from her, giving her the space to freak out. "Jesus Christ, she needs some milk."

Snorting, you slapped his arm for making a joke at an inappropriate time. Both of you were standing close enough to see the blood coming out of her light, her whole body shaking from the red-liquid vomit. "Oh, fuck."

"Shit!" Jace placed his arm in front of you, pushing you back behind him like the blood would somehow hurt you. The girl continued vomiting, a few puking out their lunch from the scene. "Okay, this is too much. Let's get out of here."

You held onto his arm, trying to peek at the blood pooling around the girl. You wish you hadn't. "Wait. Shouldn't we stay until the ambulance gets here? What if she has some kind of sickness?"

A beat of silence passed before she threw up more blood, but this time, it was black. Her eyes rolled back into her head, veins darkening around neck. Jace's eyes widened, realization washed over him, and he pulled you away from the crowd. "Shit, shit, shit! Fuck! We have to go. We have to go now!"

Before you could ask why, the girl got off the ground, pouncing at the nearest person and bit them, the person screaming, pushing the girl off. Then she continued, attacking another person while the crowd ran away from her. But as soon as she was finished sinking her teeth into their flesh, she ran at an unusually fast pace, biting people faster than they could run. Jace pulled you away, screaming but it was muffled as you observed the first guy the girl attacked.

He crumbled on the ground just like the girl had done, the bite on his shoulder growing darker, the veins turning black as the color crawled over his skin. Black blood spurted from his mouth, dribbling down his chin while his body uncontrollably shook. The others who had been unlucky enough to be bitten mirrored his actions, before getting up and running towards others. It was clear to you then. Coming to your senses, you let yourself get pulled away, sprinting along side Jace to your car.

Jace jumped over a blonde who was bleeding, and you followed his steps, not wanting to risk your own life for someone you didn't know. Your best friend grabbed your arm, making sure he didn't lose you in the crazed crowd, who were doing the same thing you were, running to their cars. Unfortunately, some were too slow, some tripping from the mass, and a lot more were injured.

Like a wish come through, you and Jace were able to make it to his car without getting hurt, except for the scratches on your arms from the people trying to pass. Jace ran to the driver side, harshly pulling the handle only to realize the doors were locked.

"Fuck!" he swore, searching everywhere for his keys. He patted himself, frantically looking for his phone when he realized he left it where you had left yours. "I don't have my phone and I can't find my keys!"

Dread filled you, the screams of the others almost drowning out Jace's voice. Then you remembered, he left his keys with his phone, tucked beneath the clothes you both had taken off. "Jace, they're both on the towel! We left it there after we—"

"Fucking hell!" the brunette shouted, slamming his fist against the window. Glancing around, he noticed the bloodbath, more people turning, blood spilled everywhere. The gravel parking lot was now wet with blood. He looked at your frightened expression, running up to you, cupping your face with his hands. "I'm gonna go back, okay? I'm gonna get the keys. You stay here and hide—"

"No! No, no, no. I'm coming with you!" you shouted, heart racing at the thought of your best friend turning into one of them. Before he could argue, you shook your head, not willing to let him risk his life. "There's no way you're going to win this argument and there's no fucking way I'm going to let you go alone."

Jace hesitated for a second before nodding. He slammed his elbow against the passenger window; hard, breaking the window. Reaching to unlock the door, he opened it and went for the glove compartment. It occurred to you then that you've never seen what was inside the glove compartment of Jace's car. He pulled out a loaded gun, handing it to you like it was normal. "Take this, and come with me."

"How the fuck do you have this?" you questioned, following his lead, running back to the beach. You weren't an expert or anything, but you were sure running with a loaded gun that could go off if your finger decided was dangerous. The only gun you've ever held was when you went laser tagging and that doesn't even count. You nearly puked your lunch when you saw another person puking.

The crowd was going against your movements, the lot still running to their cars, slowing the both of you a little bit Jace managed to push them out of your way. "I'll tell you later!"

As soon as your feet hit the hand, you looked all over for your blanket, hoping no one threw up on your clothes. Jace spotted it first, pulling you along with him as he sprinted. The only people on the beach where the bitten ones, the ones that took longer to change while the others were chased by the ones who had already turned. Jace reached the blanket first, pulling out his keys, his phone and quickly tossing you yours. He was about to grab his shoes when a turned came out of nowhere, rushing at him with full force.

Without thinking, you aimed the gun at their head and pulled the trigger, the force almost knocking you down. Jace looked up, grabbing your clothes as he watched the guy hit the ground. "Holy shit! Nice shot!"

"Shut up and let's go!" you shouted, grabbing your things so he wouldn't have to carry them. Jace got back, gesturing for you to run. You ran back to the car with him close behind you, the gun and your stuff in your arms.

You had been so close to reaching the parking lot when you felt a hand push you down, and you fell on the dirt, head pounding. Looking up, you saw Jace getting tackled by the original crazed girl, her teeth sinking into his neck before you could grab the gun and shoot at her. The bullets hit her chest, her stomach, her cheek and you didn't stop until she was off of him, tears running down your cheeks.

As soon as she fell dead on the ground, you crawled to Jace, his neck bleeding immensely. His eyes brimmed with tears but a small smile lifted his lips. He called out your name.

"No, no, no, no." you said, cradling your best friend. A loud sob escaped your throat, a tear falling on his chest. "No!"

"It's okay, it's okay." he murmured, squeezing your hand while he fought to keep from turning. "It's okay. You have to go. You have run, you have to get as far away from here as possible, okay?"

Tears blurred your vision, and you shook your head, not caring if another turned came and bit you. "No, Jace, no! I can't leave you—"

"You have to." he croaked out, wishing he didn't have to see you so heartbroken. Cupping your face in his hand, he tried to wipe away the tears but they just kept coming. "I'm dead. I can't help you anymore, and I'm so, so sorry. But you have to live, okay? You have to survive for me."

Another sob escaped your trembling lips, the tears overflowing your cheeks. "Jace, no—I can't do this without you. Please don't leave me."

Jace's breath shook, the tears finally breaking. He gave you a sad smile, brushing away the semi-wet hair away from your face. He wanted to take a good look at his best friend before he died. "I don't want to. I wish I didn't but I have to. I'm sorry. But, please, please, never give up. Never stop running and survive. Please?"

More people were turning around you, the sound of pained screams filling the large area. Giving in, you nodded, sniffling. "Okay. I promise."

The brunette sighed in peace, letting go of your face, knowing you would keep your promise. He gave you another weak smile, pulling you into his chest to give your forehead a soft kiss. He pulled you back, reaching behind you for the gun. Before you could understand what he was doing, he placed the barrel of the gun to his head, whispering. "I love you."

Then he pulled the trigger.

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