#zombies run 5k

[clarythericebot]

Guys I just...love running? I finally found a way to make a fitness habit stick, and now that I have, I'm in the throes of enjoying it. I love knowing what kind of extra running gear I need, after so much trial and error (cap, sunglasses, sunblock if you know what's good for you!!!). I love feeling and noticing how my body is becoming more powerful--it's such an ecstatic delight to realize what had me keeling over two weeks ago I can do now with confidence. I love becoming a fixture in the neighborhood (people are recognizing me! I am now the girl who grins at dogs, the girl who tries and fails to help kids get their balls back when they throw it too far but the kids think it's sweet and funny, and of course, the girl who runs). I love having a fav warm up and cool down YouTuber (thanks Run with Ash) . I love posting pictures of my run and having a lil secret private Instagram page where I track my health progress. It's just so nice. From someone who found it so difficult to exercise, when you find the thing that helps you, it is so so nice

[runner5ive]

Redraw of that piece where Five thought Sam was dead 😌

The old one has always been one of my faves but there were just so many mistakes in it that I had started cringing every time I looked at it, so I thought it was time for an update.

Old piece under the cut:

[findingwellness18]

Forgot to update but Week 2 run 2 and 3 are done, too! 🏃‍♀️ I changed it up for run 3 and ran today after work on the greenway that connects where I work to a museum. It was fun but is also next to a highway and highway construction which is less fun. But yay!!

[pixeldinostorytelling]

so much life happened the past month-and-a-half, but i've now finished season 4 and am (re)starting the couch to 5k! on the off days i'll probably just go for a walk and listen to s4 radio.

probably won't have too much new to blog about there, unless zoe and phil murder my feelings (which i'm sure they will), so dear runners 5- stay safe out there, excited to rejoin you in able soon for a new season!

[yrcanisrunsfromzombies]

Hi All! I’m back! Older and wiser!

It’s been 10 years since I’ve written on this thing and believe you me, my fitness journey has been that: A Journey. If you haven’t been with me for 10 years ago…welcome to my fitness blog!

So many ups and downs in not just my weight, but my emotions. 10 years ago, I was 24 living at home in New Jersey working in New York. Now I’m 34 living in Los Angeles. I moved out here 6.5 years ago to work as a makeup artist on set and it’s been a blessing and a struggle. I’ve grown a lot in 10 years as one should. Although I have worked on fitness sets, short films and clients, I’ve tried to balance these things with self-care (fitness & rest) and work always won… with 3 jobs then and now… it’s been exhausting. Let’s catch up friends.

When it comes to fitness, I’ve had a friend who said, ‘ if you are not working out, you are not happy.’ And even though he only knew me for a short time, he was absolutely correct. I lost sight of that in the hustle of the first 2 years here in LA. I’ve done little things I used to do in my 20s, like pole dancing and going to the gym (I had no idea what I was doing and…) finances ultimately were a struggle. However, I’m proud of the process and progress. I went from sharing a studio, to sharing a one bedroom, to having my own room in a 2bd 1b, to my own room and bathroom in a 2 bd 2b, to ultimately having my own studio with my own little fur baby, Emilio.

The first 2 years were hard and my weight increased and health declined. I ate terribly, was depressed (it still comes in waves), stressed and exhausted. It was 2018, I weighed the most I’ve ever weighed at the time (148 lbs!) AND I was turning 30. I realized I had to make a change when I tried on my bridesmaid’s dress for my sister’s wedding and the chronic splitting of jeans (2 to be exact)😂. It had to be drastic and an investment. My friend, Dana, recommended a gym. When I went in for a trial, I didn’t realize it was a CrossFit gym… oh boy. My goal: fit in the bridesmaid dress and not have my chichos (Dominican for fat rolls) show in my dress.

I began March 2018 and the wedding was in November 2018. So I had 7 months to fit into the dress, totally doable. I made little rules for myself. Go to the 30 min class early in the am before work 3 times a week. Drink your protein shake, swap out things in your diet like whole grain instead of bread, no cheese, meal prep veggie burger/sandwiches. I lost 10-11 lbs by July! I didn’t try the dress on until then and it fit almost perfectly! I began to plateau at 137 lbs and my coach, graduated me to the weightlifting class. He also recommend I do the fitness/diet challenge October 2018. The wedding was one month away! I will be the first to admit, I wasn’t the healthiest in those 5-6 weeks. I lost 8 lbs the first week (detox week) was almost at a faint until they said I can eat goat cheese. Goat cheese to me was what spinach is to Popeye. I regained energy. I skipped meals, drank a lot water, worked out 3 days a week… did all the things (I don’t recommend all of it). I fit in my dress for my sisters wedding and weighed 127lbs!(Really wish I took photos of my progress, but I was embarrassed, however in the pics below I can see a difference in 5 months)

May 2018

Nov 2018 (wedding)

Fitness, career and private life was on the up and up. When you feel good, your good energy becomes contagious. I met a boy on the plane to the wedding (I know a disgustingly cute meet-cute)and we dated for a year and a 2 months. During that time, I kinda strayed away from being consistent, went on birth control and ate terribly. I gain all the weight back and then some to 152lbs! This was my most heavy. I broke up with him, feeling sad and feeling like I lost myself in the relationship. I wasn’t happy and it was mostly me. I can admit that. The first week we broke up, I lost 8 lbs. I was angry running and angry boxing because I was sad and mad. Understandably.

Shortly after, I began to date a boy from CrossFit. Finally, someone who had things in common fitness-wise. We can do this together! The pandemic happened a month after dating and we did fitness things together: hiking and running. I fit in writing, painting, dieting and keeping a consistent little workout routine with fitness apps that came out at the time. I got down to 142 lbs. Ultimately, the pandemic emotionally brought us down and after dating for a year and 2 months, I called it quits. We weren’t growing in love and happiness. It was hard. Was the pandemic a factor? A small one. Before we broke up in April 2021, we signed up to do a Spartan Race together in October. We remained friends so we can do it together. He also had to make me sign up because I combated making the point that I always hurt myself doing obstacle 5Ks. None the less, I signed up and vowed to get to work.

That single summer before turning 33, I hiked, ran 5K sand did some weight lifting. I didn’t know exactly how to train for a Spartan Race. So when we did do the race in Big Bear, CA, I fell off the monkey bars hurting my right shoulder and the ground fracturing my right scapula! I was not prepared at all, however, I finished the race in pain without completing the obstacles. It was the next day when I went to urgentcare where I found out I fractured this big ass bone.

So that was October 2021, I told myself once I heal and I get the green light from my doctor. I’m going to be stronger than I ever was! At this time, I began working Front Desk at a spa, couldn’t freelance doing makeup with a broken wing. Luckily, they were caring and understanding. Massages and spa amenities were a big part in my recovery!

If you’ve stayed with me this far, I salut you and I’m almost caught up. Promise!

I worked so hard in 2022 to build the strength back in my shoulder and in my legs. I ran the fasted 5K in May 2022 (28 mins) then shifted my focus to weight lifting. The rules for my successful consistency will written on a different post as I plan to be more consistent than my younger self!😝

My goal was to build strength and get back on the mountain to snowboard. I hadn’t done it since before I moved to LA. Again, finances were a part of the delay. The hard work paid off when I got to go in January 2023! Such a great time, I didn’t hurt myself and my legs did have the stamina! I’m was so proud and happy. I finally felt like myself!

We are almost all caught up, but I will stop here. I’m writing this because fitness and health is truly an up and down journey especially for the working class. Some people don’t make self care and fitness a priority for them due to becoming parents, focusing on careers and not being able to financial invest in it. Because this is important to me I wanted to share, and clearly, a lot has happened.

I will post my workouts, my progress and my tips. I’m clearly not an expert, except an expert on struggling with consistency. I’m sure you on some level can relate.

I haven’t updated you from Jan 2023 until now (May 2023)… something big happened to me that caused me to reanimated this journey. I just wanted to use this post as a starting point and hopefully you all enjoyed it!

Keep your head up, darlings! Talk to you soon😘

[healthyquackattack]

Today was a wonderful day! I was able to fit in a 2.5 mile run on my couch to 5K and Zombies Run app, get my car washed, pick up groceries, and make a delicious breakfast for dinner. After all that, I relaxed on the couch and played Stardew Valley. It was a relaxing but productive day.

I will be incorporating daily fasting for 16 hours. I’m a black coffee/green tea drinker in the morning, and find that fasting makes me feel better and encourages me to make healthy choices.

Fast started - 7:45pm

[sinni-ok-sessi]

feeling some existential despair at my couch to 5k app, which has the usual walk-run segments, but also has long stretches of 'freeform runs' where you can run or walk as much as you like. which I'm sure works great for some people, but like. the reason I am doing this via a training app and not just freeforming the whole thing is because I want to be told to do a manageable thing, do that thing, and have that be enough

you cannot give me flexibility in how much 'good enough' is; that's how the brainweasels get in

[clarythericebot]

First official day of Zombies 5K (cuz I do need the starter version--I need to build up to regular running or I might keel over) and plot is not as exciting, but Sam is just as sweet and the doctor is at least more supportive (not threatening to leave me to die anymore, at least. Now I am 'valuable asset')

Also, I do actually want to read Rajit's novel haha. I wonder of anyone wrote a fanfic of it yet

[ladysisyphus]

Happy Pride from Shousetsu Bang*Bang!

Shousetsu Bang*Bang is a long-running webzine full of original queer smutty stories and art. How long-running, you ask? Our first issue was published in September 2005, and we've been going strong ever since. All our issues are filled with tales of queer romance with steamy scenes and a spirit that encourages happy endings!

All our issues are available for free! Browse our stacks for a complete list of everything we've published. Up until 2017, regular issues contained stories with M/M content, special issues had F/F content, and Yes, And issues were the place for everything else. Since 2018, all issues have been open to all kinds of bodies and combinations!

The best way to start is just to pick an issue and get to reading! But if you're looking for something special, let www.s2b2search.com be your guide! We're in the process of tagging our collection so it's searchable by content.

Maybe you want to see our Steampunk stories! Or the ones with Cross-dressing! We've got Medieval settings and Crime fiction, sometimes in the same issue! Feel like reading about Asexual or Nonbinary characters? Prefer pairs who are Dating or Married? Want something Short (<5k words) or JUMBO LARGE (>25k words)? Looking for some Hurt/Comfort or Friends to Lovers? Weddings? Single Parents? Dragons? Cowboys? Bodyguards? Vampires? Coffee shops? Body Horror? Farms? Knights? Voyeurism? Squirrels? From Academia to Zombies, we've got all kinds of exactly what you want.

Feeling lucky? Click here to get a random story or artwork!

Want to join us? We'd love to have you! Check out our 2024 Editorial Calendar to see what's coming up, and look at our list of Current and Previous Signups to find out how to participate! (Hint: Turn something in by the deadline! It's so easy!) We're always happy to have new authors and artists in our pages. Whether you're just getting started or you've been doing this as long as some of us old-timers have, we welcome your submissions!

Please help us spread the word! Tell your friends! Give us a reblog! We need all the help we can get to get what we've got out into the world. Your support is always appreciated! Thanks for helping to keep this labor of love going strong nearly two decades and counting.

[findingwellness18]

Just a bit warmer and humid today which means no dog because they’d get too hot too quickly and the pavement was too hot 😩 Week 2, Run 1 done!

[nessinborderland]

Hungry for You

Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Dark fic

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You want to stay alive.

In your school, zombies roam the halls and death is certain. Unknown to you, a bigger threat lingers nearby, and he's hungry. Lucky for you, he doesn't want you dead either. He just wants you as dead as he is.

Warnings⚠️ Extremely Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Character Death, Blood and Violence, Blood and Gore

Notes: This work was inspired by a request that was sent via my google forms. Thank you to the anon that requested it, this was a fun one to write ;)

If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a heart and reblogging <3

AO3 | Masterlist

Plunk! Tink! Bum! Bang!

You can’t listen to that fucking piano anymore. Your head hurts for a multitude of reasons, and the goddamn piano noise just outside is going to make you lose your mind, you’re sure of it.

Who are you kidding? You feel like you have lost it already. The last thirty-something hours have been nothing but a hell straight out of your foulest nightmares, and you can’t wait for it to end so you can go home and sleep the headache away. But that seems something further and further from happening with every passing hour.

A zombie apocalypse. A fucking zombie apocalypse. You can’t believe that something as unbelievable as the dead rising is fucking real. You refuse to believe it.

All you want is to sleep – beyond tired from all the running, the crying, and the fear that still makes your heartbeat race – but that seems to be impossible. Your back and neck hurt from your half-sitting, half-lying position against the wooden closet behind you, and your eyes sting from hours of crying and lack of sleep. You sigh; what you wouldn’t give right now to be safe and sound in your bed.

Tink! Bang! Plunk!

You cover your ears with a grunt and change positions on the bench you’re in, stretching your legs that are starting to tingle from being bent for so long. Your feet collide with your companion’s thigh, and you mumble a quick apology before bending your legs again with a sigh.

“It’s okay,” comes the weak reply.

You glance at the girl in front of you, eyebrows furrowing as you take in her almost catatonic state. Lee Nayeon; that’s her name.

She saved your life.

You had been so close to being a zombie meal, your legs almost giving up on you as you tried to find someone or something, or somewhere that would help you stay alive. You got inside that classroom by sheer luck, and it was by Nayeon’s grace alone that you didn’t die outside that room. If she had never opened the door for you, you would be growling with the other monsters in the corridor, waiting for the chance to sink your teeth into the flesh of the living.

So here you are, you and your companion, seemingly alone in a school that quickly became a death trap, with zombies growling in the halls and a piano grinding on your nerves.

“That’s it, I’m stopping that thing,” you proclaim as you rush to get up, limping on prickly legs as you make your way to the door.

You hesitate, your hand on the handle; is it safe? You know the answer to that: a big, fat, NO.

“What’re you doing?” Nayeon questions, her tone hesitant as she glances at your hand before looking at your face. “It’s not safe.”

“I know,” you say with a nod, followed by a gulp as you take up the courage to unlock the door. The sound of it unlocking makes you slightly jump, and your shoulders tighten as you slowly open the door just a crack. “I wanna stop the noise, that’s all.”

The adjacent room is messy, with broken furniture and musical instruments painting a chaotic scene together with the blood on the floor, but at least it appears to be empty. You are aware of the couple of zombies trapped in the room, their growls making it easier to pinpoint where they are in the dark room. You open the door a little more before remembering that the sliding doors that access the corridor are wide open.

“Nope,” you say to yourself as you close the door again, cringing as it makes a loud noise. You let out a small whimper as the zombies in the room start a wave of agitating noises, no doubt alerted by the sound of you carelessly closing the door.

You hold your breath as you wait for them to calm down, hoping that no zombies were alerted by their ruckus. The last thing you need right now is even more zombies in the area.

“Do you think that the piano will attract others here?” Nayeon’s voice right beside you startles you, and you turn to face her.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to make it stop,” you answer in a whisper, “but I’m scared more will come. The sliding door is open.”

“I’ll help.”

You nod, taking a deep breath before forcing yourself to open the door a second time. Everything seems as calm as before, the growls of the trapped zombies now back to normal. You glance at the lit hallway, relieved at seeing it empty.

“Okay so,” you start, “I’m going to stop the piano while you close the door and keep watch, okay?” Nayeon nods and you give her a brief smile. “Cool, let’s do this then.”

~+

“You were supposed to keep watch!” you loudly whisper, trying your best not to shout your words. You shoot a fearful glance at the door, where new zombies bang against it with all their might, and you feel like sobbing. Fresh blood slides down your arm and drops to the floor, and your whole body shakes as you try not to panic from the burning scratch on your forearm. You see red from how furious you are. “I was almost bitten back there because of you!”

“I’m sorry!” Nayeon pleads with tears in her eyes. “I got distracted and–”

“And I almost died!” You push her then, unable to control your rage as your voice raises in tone. She falls back against the bench, eyes on the video camera in her hands. You feel your anger grow. “And all for a goddamn camera?”

“I said I was sorry, okay?” she snaps, sending you a look that reminds you a lot of the Nayeon you are more familiar with. “You don’t have to be a bitch about it, it’s not like they bit you!” You were never friends, or even in the same class, but you always knew her as the preppy rich girl with a superiority complex. And here she is, proving herself as exactly that.

“Fuck you,” is all you say as you remove yourself to a corner of the room, grabbing a roll of toilet paper with shaky hands from a nearby box before sitting back on the floor against the shelves.

You do your best to clean up your wound as you try your hardest not to panic. Is a scratch enough for you to get infected? Is this how you will die? By turning into those awful monsters?

At least I’ll eat her as revenge, you think to yourself before shaking those thoughts away. You don’t want that to happen, doesn’t matter that you almost died because of her recklessness. You want both of you to live. That’s all you want right now.

A sound from across the room makes you look at Nayeon, that is focused on the video on the camcorder like nothing else matters. Some voices and names sound familiar, but you’re too tired and dizzy to focus exactly on what they’re saying. Still, hearing other people brings you some comfort, and you’re dozing off to sleep before you realize it.

~+

A sudden noise startles you awake, and you open your eyes wide to search the dark room, fearing the worst. Nayeon is standing across from you, filling her bag with the food and drinks from the shelves with a vigor you can only describe as desperate. You can still hear someone talking from the video camera.

How long have I been asleep? you ask yourself as you feel your injury burn. A look at it tells you that at least it has stopped bleeding.

“What’re you doing?” you ask her, hating the way your voice sounds. Your head hurts now more than ever, and you consider going back to sleep.

“I’m just–”

She interrupts herself before finishing her words, and you look up at her with a raised brow, sensing that something is wrong but unable to realize what.

“It’s my fault he died,” says someone in the video, grief clear in the boy’s tone. “Please let his grandma know.”

Your eyes widen at the words, and you think you just realized why Nayeon is staring at the camcorder with such intensity, a tremble to her lower lip.

“You know them?” you ask. She nods, and that’s all the answer you need. “I’m sorry.”

You stay quiet, deep in your thoughts as the words in the background go by you. You don’t know these people personally, but their faces are familiar. They are students, just like you. Teenagers with dreams and hopes that suddenly don’t matter anymore. All that matters now is surviving; at least to you. Still, most die, as shown by the dead walking just outside this door you’re hiding behind. Kids are dying in here. Outside the school grounds too, for all you know.

Maybe that’s why no one has come to our rescue after almost three days, you think to yourself, quickly shaking those thoughts away; losing hope won’t help you stay alive.

A beep snaps you out of your thoughts, and you look back at Nayeon to see that the camera has seemingly run out of battery. She’s looking in your direction; but not at you. At something beside you.

You glance in the direction of her stare, relieved and confused by seeing nothing but a wall and more furniture. There’s no one there, but the look on her face makes you believe she’s seeing a ghost.

Nayeon suddenly drops the bag in her hands, and you watch as the look on her face deepens into something you can’t quite comprehend, but looks a lot like grief and regret. She hugs her knees to her chest and buries her face against them. Her shoulders start to shake.

“I killed them,” you hear her whisper in a tone so low you have to force yourself to comprehend her words.

“W-What?”

“I killed them,” she repeats in a shaky voice. “They’re dead because of me.”

Before you can process her words, she stands up and reaches for the bag on the floor, refilling it with food and beverages with newfound vigor before heading for the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” you ask with wide eyes, forcing yourself to get up and follow her. Your scratch still hurts like hell, but at least it has stopped bleeding. That – and the fact that you’re yet to crave the flesh of the living – brings you some relief.

“Got to go back to them,” is all she says as she opens the door and walks out.

You follow, hesitating by the door as you see her peek into the corridor. You quietly walk towards her and pull her by the hand, hoping that the zombies lurking in the hallway aren’t attracted by your presence.

“What’re you doing?” you whisper, trying to pull her with you back inside the room. She shakes her arm off your grip. “This is dangerous!”

“They’re on the roof,” she explains, eyes wide as they lock on yours. They look desperate as she passes by you to search for something near the wall. “They don’t have any food or water, so I’m bringing them some. I have to help–”

Bang!

The sound of a door shutting roughly behind you makes you both jump, and you turn around to look at the source of the noise. Relief floods through you as you see who it is, the sight of seeing someone else alive – even if it’s him – filling you with hope. You had avoided thinking about him at all since this all started, but part of you was sure he was dead. You should’ve known better.

“Gwinam!” you exclaim at seeing the tall boy, a smile gracing your lips as you take a step closer. Your smile quickly drops as you take in his appearance.

Something isn’t right.

He’s covered in blood, white jacket stained red. But that is not what worries you.

“W-What happened to your eye?” you ask, gulping at the expression on his face. You reflexively take a step back as he takes a step forward, the way he looks at you sending a chill down your spine. Something is very very wrong. “Gwinam?”

“What’s that?” he asks instead with a nod in Nayeon’s direction, ignoring your questions.

“It’s… nothing.”

“Well…” he says, passing by you, his eyes locked on Nayeon. “I have to go to the roof. But the door’s locked. So, I’m going that way,” he says while pointing at the window.

You stare at him in surprise; what is going on?

“You’re not a zombie, are you?” Nayeon asks in a hesitant tone, her eyes jumping to you before she focuses back on him. You can see the growing fear in her eyes.

Something is very very wrong.

“Zombie? Fuck that!” You can’t help but flinch at Gwinam’s tone. He might not be a zombie, but he is starting to scare you almost as much as one. He was never kind, but this is not normal – even for him. “So, is that food?”

“Yes, we–”

He interrupts your attempt at claiming his attention. “Are you hungry?”

“Gwinam, what’s–”

“I’m not talking to you, am I?” he snaps at you, turning his bad eye in your direction before focusing back on Nayeon. “Are you, huh? Are you hungry?

Nayeon nods.

“Me too.”

You hear it more than you see it. The scream; the gurgling sounds; the blood spraying the room – spraying you – and dripping onto the floor.

The look on Nayeon’s face as Gwinam buries his face in her neck and starts to feed.

It all happens so fast that you have no reaction but to freeze for the first few seconds. Your heartbeat quickens and your knees tremble, and you do anything but stare as Gwinam pulls Nayeon to him before biting into her neck with a disgusting, wet sound. Blood spatters and dribbles onto the floor as you watch him feed on the girl like she’s nothing but a bag of blood, the slurping sounds coming from his feeding making you retch as you double over and fall to your knees, eyes unable to leave the carnage in front of you.

You see the moment life vanishes out of Nayeon’s eyes, her body going limp before falling to the ground. Then slowly, he turns to you, and your eyes lock.

“What about you,” he takes a step forward, a gory smirk on his bloodied face. “Are you hungry?”

You have to run, or he will eat you too, screams the voice in your head.

He’s so much faster than you. Or maybe your eyes give it away. Either way, he’s grabbing you before you can even attempt to escape.

His strong hands squeeze your wrists in a tight grip, and you gasp as he forces you to stand up and shoves you against the wall with so much force it pushes the air out of your lungs. The look in his eyes is predatory. Hungry.

“Do you have any idea how good you smell?” he asks, leaning towards you to run his nose against your pulse. You jump at his touch, whimpering as his tongue licks your skin. “I bet you taste fucking amazing.”

You’re about to die; you’re sure of it. He’s going to eat you alive, just like he did with Nayeon.

“Please,” you beg, shaking your head in supplication. “Please don’t.”

He laughs. Like you said something funny. Nothing about the last three days has been funny.

“Lucky for you, I’m not hungry anymore,” he says, and you almost relax in his grip. But the look of bloodthirst in his good eye doesn’t let you.

Gwinam was always… complicated, to put it simply. You’ve known him for as long as you’ve attended Hyosan High School. In the beginning, he was just another classmate. Yes, he was cute, but he was also mean most of the time and liked to hang out with the wrong crowd, so you avoided him as much as possible.

Until you couldn’t.

When he asked you on a date – all red ears and avoiding eye contact – you had half a brain to say ‘no’. In retrospect, that’s exactly what you should’ve done, but the younger you was beyond happy to have a boy like you enough to ask you out.

So, you said ‘yes’, a shy smile on your face and the fantasies of a naive girl running through your head as you accepted his request.

Your relationship evolved naturally from there, and before you knew it he was stealing kisses when no one was around and touching your hand when you passed by each other in the hallways. It quickly became something more, with heated make-out sessions that ended with both of you naked and panting.

It was good; until it wasn’t. It broke your heart to end it, but you couldn’t ignore what he did anymore. How his group – him – treated others so badly that they dropped out or hurt themselves. Even to you, he was toxic; jealous, possessive, pushy… It took you some time to realize, but you knew he wasn’t good for you.

That was almost a year ago. You’ve barely said a word to each other since then, but – to your surprise and relief – he never tried to seek revenge after your breakup.

You hope that part of him still likes you enough to keep you alive.

“Are you going to- to eat me?” you can barely choke out your question amidst your sobbing. Funny; you were sure your tear ducts had run out of tears. Apparently not.

“No.” His answer makes you relax just a bit; you know he’s not lying. He’s not going to eat you. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to hurt you.

“T-Then are you–”

“I’m not letting you go either,” he says in a decisive tone. That’s when he leans his head to the side, observing you like he’s seeing your face for the first time. One of his hands releases your wrist to catch a falling tear, following its path up your face until his palm is cradling your cheek. It’s surprisingly gentle. “Why are you crying? You never cried before.”

“You’re scaring me,” you whimper, not able to control the tremor in your voice. “Please let me go.”

He scoffs, thumb wiping away your tears.

“Remember when we used to fuck after school? I swear I can still smell you on my sheets. Fuck,” he swears, pressing his forehead against yours. A sob escapes your lips at the proximity, and he chuckles. “You used to make the prettiest noises. I wanna hear you moan like that again. It’s been way too long.”

His body presses against yours at the same time he forces you into a kiss.

“No!” You cry out at the feeling of blood on your mouth and face, gagging when he deepens the kiss. You push him away with all your strength, but he barely budges. “Stop!”

A loud crash from behind you is what finally has him release you. You scream as a hoard of zombies barges into the room, you the clear target of their hunt. Gwinam barely reacts to the intrusion, grunting in frustration as he throws you into the other room before any of the dead can get you.

You fall to your knees as he closes the door behind him, and you do nothing but stare as you hear what goes on outside, the swears of Gwinam indicating that he’s fighting them off in some way. How he’s doing that, you can’t even begin to imagine.

Whatever he is, you’re sure of one thing: he’s not human anymore. Not completely.

The commotion outside lasts a few minutes, and you hold your breath as the last growl gives place to an eerie silence. Then, the doorknob turns, and in comes Gwinam, alive and well despite the blood on his clothes, skin, and hair. You can’t believe he’s alive. A small part of you wonders if he is alive.

You say nothing and stay on the floor, waiting for him to do or say something. But Gwinam barely sends you a glance before walking to the couch and sitting down with a sigh, his good eye closing as he leans his head against the wall.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask after your sobs have subsided. You can’t take the silence anymore.

“Why shouldn’t I?” he scoffs with a shrug, opening his eye to finally look at you. A chill runs down your back at the intensity of his gaze. You want him to look away.

“You ate her.”

“Be glad I didn’t eat you.”

That makes you shut up. You could be like Nayeon right now, body rigid and growing cold as your own blood sticks to your skin. Dead. But you’re not. That’s when you remember the blood in your mouth. Her blood. You rush to clean your bloodied face, gagging at the taste of it on your tongue.

“Are you going to kill me?” You rasp out after a moment of dry heaving.

“Not thinking about it, no. Why? Feel like dying?”

You shake your head, new tears falling down your cheeks. You want to live. You really do.

And that’s why you stand up, eyes not daring to meet his as you straddle his lap, hands hesitantly going on his shoulders as you try not to gag from all the blood on his face. The same blood that is also on your face, even though you did your best to clean it off. The blood that belongs to neither of you.

Without a word, you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe off the blood on the bottom half of his face. If you’re going to do this, you’re not doing it with Nayeon’s blood on his skin.

He watches you in silence, a light smirk on his lips that only widens when you start to unbutton your shirt, button by button. You can feel his heated gaze on you, burning you in a way that makes you want to press your thighs together. You know what he wants, and you don’t think you have any good options but to give it to him. It’s not like it’s your first time, anyway. Sex with him, if anything, is familiar.

Gwinam’s impatience gets to him, and he’s soon ripping your shirt open, buttons popping to the ground. You yelp as he roughly palms your breasts, ripping your bra apart before pulling them into his mouth. You close your eyes at the sensation of his warm tongue on your nipples, trying not to think about how he was eating someone not even twenty minutes ago.

This all feels like a nightmare, and you want it to end. But fuck, does he know how to touch you.

His mouth trails its path up your chest to the curve of your neck, marking your skin in ways that make you shiver and wonder when he’ll break your skin and turn you into a monster. Just like him.

You shiver at the thought, and he must take it as a sign of enjoyment because he’s pulling you down for another kiss before you can stop him, soft lips roughly forcing yours to respond to him as he tastes your mouth. A whimper escapes you as his teeth graze your bottom lip, his smirk clear as he stops you from pulling away.

So, you quickly give in.

When he breaks the kiss to pull your body under him, you let him. When he lifts your skirt and rips off your panties, you open your legs wider, ashamed of the wetness that shows him just how ready you are to get him inside you. His fingers are rough and fast as he touches you, thumb pressing on your clit as two of his fingers stretch you for him, making you arch your back and sway your hips as you chase more of that shameful pleasure.

“I’ve missed this pretty pussy of yours,” he groans against your ear as you hear him pull himself out of his pants. You gasp as he starts sliding his dick up and down your folds, making you moan every time his shaft bumps against your clit. “Always so wet for me.”

When he finally slides into you, it’s agony; the good and the bad kind, all mixed into one delightful experience. The head of his cock inside you makes you shake and moan in pleasure as he fills you up to the brim, your legs trembling as he lifts them over his shoulders before starting to thrust into you so roughly you have to cover your mouth to muffle your screams.

He doesn’t slow down as he fucks you, hands squeezing your tits as he leans over again to suck at your nipples, your legs still bent over his shoulders just making him fuck you even deeper as the angle shifts. You lay there as you let him use you, eyes closed tight as tears slide down your temples and your palm stops your moans of pleasure from escaping.

This shouldn’t feel this good. But it does. Fuck, it does.

If you try hard enough, you can imagine you’re still dating, and this is just another normal school day where he fucks your brains out after school. He wasn’t always the most giving lover, but he knew how to make your legs cramp from pleasure and make you moan the loudest.

And it seems he hasn’t forgotten how your body works.

“Look at me,” he orders with a thrust so deep it makes you whimper in pain. “Open those pretty eyes and look at me while I’m fucking you.”

You do what he says; that’s when the illusion is shattered. He’s not your boyfriend anymore and you’re not in his room, having sex just like normal teenagers. No.

Gwinam is a monster who just ate another human being and forced you into having sex with him. What choice did you have anyway; dying, just like everyone else? No, that’s not a choice. Not to you.

So, you endure it, all the long minutes it takes him to fuck you to completion, his gaze never leaving yours till the moment he comes with a groan and a shudder, burying his face in your neck. His thrusts get shallow as he comes in you, the feeling of it overwhelming as the weight of this whole situation throws you back into reality.

You just lay there as he comes, wincing at the burning feeling in your core that only grows when he pulls out of you, his cum seeping out of you to stick at your inner thighs. You stay still as he rests on you, your heart beating like a galloping horse as you catch your breath. You’re surprised to feel his fluttering heartbeat against your breast, fast and shallow, but there.

For whatever is worth, he’s alive, somewhat.

You lock eyes again when he finally pulls himself up from your body, a satisfied glint in his eye that shows you how satisfied he is. His features are relaxed and there’s a light smile on his lips, an expression that reminds you so much of the boy you used to date. It brings you some comfort; he won’t hurt you now, will he? You want to believe he won’t.

No words are shared between you as he stands up in all his naked glory, and that’s when you see it; the very gruesome, very recent marks that scar his body. You hadn’t noticed these before, but now they’re very clear in the contrast they make against his pale skin.

He shouldn’t be alive.

“What happened?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You slowly rise to a sitting position, leaning over to grab your mangled shirt off the floor. “What is wrong with you? Your body…”

He halts his movements and his eye narrows.

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” He looks almost offended, like you’re the weird one. “I’m better now than ever before,” he continues as he finishes dressing. “You’re the one that should ask herself what is wrong with you.”

The look he gives you is enough to make you recoil, and you flinch as he kneels before you, grabbing you by the arms with so much force you cry out.

“Please,” you beg, in a shaky tone. “I gave you what you wanted, now let me go.”

He shakes his head as he cradles your cheeks, pulling your face to his.

“You could be like me,” he starts, growing excitement in his voice as he pulls you in for a short kiss that you don’t return. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Too bad,” he shrugs, followed by a low laugh. “It would be a waste to watch you die. I can do you one better.” The grip on your face tightens slightly, and you tense under his touch.

“Gwinam–”

The feeling of his teeth on your neck feels like blinding pain. He moans as you scream, trying to push him away, but he acts like you’re not even trying. You can feel it in his grip, the moment he tastes your blood. You’re going to die; you can feel it.

“No!” you cry out, thrashing against his hold.

He stops then, pulling away from your neck with a groan, mouth covered with your blood. You shakily cover the wound, eyes wide as you take him in, breathing deeply with a satisfied smirk on his lips. You shake as the feeling of pain intensifies, the blood running down your still naked chest warm against your cooling skin. You’re terrified, and you know he can see it in your eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he says as he forces you to lean back, long fingers brushing your hair from your face. “You’re gonna thank me for this later, I promise.”

“Am I-am I going to die?”

“Nah,” he laughs, kissing your trembling lips. “You will live forever. We will. Together.”

[luveline]

maybe for zombie Steve au, there’s some sort of emergency at the college so there’s like a lockdown ish but Steve & reader get split up & then have an emotional reunion? 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

thank you so much for your request! I took a smide of inspo from scenes of twd (specifically when the prison fence gets it shit rocked) steve zombie!au ♥︎ fem!reader 5k words

"And you…" You pause, tongue sticking out as you struggle to tuck your shirt into your jeans. "You smoked?" 

Steve laughs where he's shrugging into his own jeans. You're both very late. 

"Everyone smoked junior year." 

"I didn't." 

"No, of course you didn't," he says, laughing more. It's a nice sound to hear so early in the morning. You can almost pretend you're well-rested. 

"I didn't," you say emphatically, leaning against the wall by the door to slip on your sneakers. 

It doesn't matter if you're telling the truth, Steve clearly doesn't believe you. He mirrors your actions and puts on his own pair of sneakers. They were white, once upon a time, but now they're a gritty grey. You stand tall in unison and pull open the door.

"Wait," Steve says. 

He brushes your hair out of your face, looking over each of your features casually before his fingers dip down to your belt. You startle on instinct, though he's only fixing the mess you'd made of your tucked shirt. His fingers push under your belt methodically, efficiently. In less than a minute he's done. 

Neither of you bother with a jacket. Steve pockets the keys and the door locks behind you, the two of you half jogging out of Little Hawkins to the front of the building. 

"I'll be at the north fence all day, okay, so if you need me, come and find me. You're–" 

"In the pantry where I always am," you say, "and I'll be fine, so you don't let anything bite you and I'll see you at dinner." 

"Wait, wait, wait," Steve says, catching your wrist before you can part ways. 

He pulls you in by the arm until he can grab your shoulders. He does altogether too much looking, eyes raking over your face, your neck. He meets your eyes, cups your cheek in both hands. 

"I love you," he says quickly, "I love you," —he kisses you wonky, lips way too close to your nose, "I love you. See you at dinner." 

He's sick in the head. He doesn't give you any time to answer or bestow the heaping of affection he deserves, simply splits and power walks away from you.

You sigh, wringing your hands together. "Steve! I– I love you too!" 

He turns around, his smile ridiculously big, and waves at you. You wave back. 

He races out of view. You try not to make eye contact with the people milling around outside of the dorm building and pick up the pace, running down the street to the cafeteria building. 

The town hall is alive in the mornings, and class is in session, more kids than you'd ever expected to see again in your lifetime all bundled up in one room. You think it's nice, the way they teach them here. They don't bother with algebra or arithmetic, though Sammy the 'teacher' offers tutoring to anybody who wants it, they just draw and play and talk about emotional wellbeing. Sometimes there are survival classes, but they don't really talk about geeks. They show the kids what wild flora is edible, or how to wrap a cut. You think it's probably more for routine than actual teaching. 

"Hi, Sammy," you say. 

She smiles, and you're horrified as she says, "Hi, baby. Class, say good morning." 

All the kids say good morning to you. You flush with heat from top to bottom. Their cute little faces beaming up at you is an instant disarming. 

"Hi, kids," you say, waving. 

Hands holding crayons and pencils wave back at you. 

You make your way into the kitchen, which is a huge industrial affair connected to an otherwise small cafeteria. Maybelle and Pauline are already inside cleaning up the leftover breakfast and preparing for community dinner. 

Breakfast is specifically for the people inside the community who can't manage to make it themselves, the disabled, the injured, the elderly, but dinner is for everybody. 

"Sorry I'm late," you say. 

"Hun, we don't care," Maybelle says. 

"Did you want breakfast?" Pauline asks. "I'm gonna wrap this up otherwise. Somebody's gonna eat it."  

It sounds like a threat. You take some of the breakfast they've set aside, which isn't a breakfast food at all, just boxed mac and cheese that tastes slightly stale. You barely notice it anymore, though the texture gives you the heebies. 

You move into the pantry and check everything still there, the easiest and most useless part of your job. Then, Maybelle and Pauline try to put together a meal that's both cost effective (the cost being the energy expended to retrieve the food, and the likelihood that this food will be seen again) and not disgusting. Oftentimes they have to make a bunch of different stuff that doesn't go together, but it's better than nothing. You like this a whole lot more than if they just gave everybody a can a day and said there's your lot. 

You mark down the things they've taken. You mark down things you might need in Hopper's next supply rub. It's a super cushy job, the kind that isn't strictly necessary, but there are a lot of people in the community and the majority are willing to do what needs to be done. They ran out of jobs quickly, and you're sure Hopper had felt a little sorry for you, so here you are. You're not like Steve. You're not a survivor. You're lucky. 

You sit down after a while, no use pretending you have anything left to do, left side pressed to the side of the industrial oven. 

"You know, we used to live in Mississippi?" Pauline asks you. 

"What?" you ask. 

"Mm-hm, we were only in Michigan for vacation, if you can believe it. We had a good time." 

"Before, the uh, the apocalypse," Maybelle says with a tittering laugh. "We were hiking in the Porcupine Mountains when some dude tried to bite me. We thought he had rabies." 

The room smells like jarred pasta bake, a rich, garlic-thick smell that threatens to make your eyes droop. In the cafeteria, through the open shutters, you can hear the kids singing. Sammy hates nursery rhymes, so they learn the words of old songs by Louis Armstrong. Today, they're a discordant, too fast chorus of What a Wonderful World. It's a racket.  

But no matter how loud the kids sings, they can't cover the reverberations of a gunshot. 

A hush falls in the kitchen.

You stand up. You aren't panicked, exactly. More like you've stepped into a heavy overcoat, trepidation a weight that settles like a second skin. You move to stand by the sink with Maybelle. She pushes it open, and the three of you stare outside. 

Trees rustle in the wind. The kids descend into giggles as Matthew, one of the rare teenagers who deigns to join in, busts out a Louis Armstrong impression, his voice deep and bending. The oven hums. 

The second gunshot sounds. After that, you can't count them. 

Maybelle slams the window closed and twists the handle down to lock it. 

Your heart beats. None of you know what to say. Your pulse bumps, and bumps, and bumps. 

"Lock the doors," Maybelle says. "Lock the windows. Just in case." 

Gunfire comes fast and ferocious as a sudden downpour, popping in the near distance. Your footsteps clip over the linoleum floor, firm rubber soles like an elastic band as you bound into the cafeteria and meet Sammy's eyes. 

The kids are perturbingly quiet. 

"I'm gonna lock the doors," you say tentatively. 

Dread fills her face. "Okay. Alright." 

You fizz around the room, locking the front and side entrances one after another. You're thinking so many things at once that you can't seem to focus on any, and instead your attention is drawn to the inconsequential. How cold the metal on the door's emergency push bars are. The colouring books on the floor. 

You're standing in front of the last door with shaking hands as it gets thrown open. You gasp and scrabble backwards, hands in front of your chest to protect yourself. 

It's Joyce. Breathless, red in the face Joyce. 

"Lock the kids in the kitchen," she says. "The north fence has a leak. They're getting in." 

—

Steve is not having the good day he thought he'd be getting. 

You'd been exceptionally pretty this morning, tired eyed and disorientated but adorable through and through. You and Steve have fallen into a routine, and you talk so much it's a surprise your throats aren't sore. There's so much to say and never enough time to say it; you've taken to trading stories in the morning while you get dressed. Today was Steve's turn. He'd told you all about his birthday party during junior year, how his dad had almost killed him because somebody left a hole in the wall, and how he still can't eat Dunkin' Donuts without feeling queasy. You'd asked him when the last time he actually got to eat a donut was, and it hadn't been sad, like you might expect. 

He'd said, "I don't need any extra sweetness, are you kidding? Got all my sugar right here." 

You'd laughed at him (not with him) and nearly choked on toothpaste. 

That's a perfect morning for Steve. That's as good as they get. It might be silly, but he'd felt damn good, and foolishly tricked himself into thinking the rest of the day might be similarly great. 

"You're a fool, Harrington," he mutters to himself. 

"What was that?" 

Steve looks up. Jonathan and Christopher are staring at him. 

"He's going crazy," Christopher says. "Best take him out to the back shed." 

"Funny." Steve kicks the dirt in front of him. "So bored I'm talking to myself," he admits. 

"It could be worse," Jonathan says. "We could be on latrine duty." 

Steve would rather not think about latrine duty. God bless the communal bathroom in Little Hawkins. 

The day is breezy but surprisingly warm, not a cloud in the sky. The sun bears down and heats Steve's skin in waves. He likely should've stopped for his jacket this morning, but he'd been super late. He doesn't want a citation. Another citation. 

This is the slowest day they've ever seen on fence duty. Usually the general hubbub of the community catches the attention of a handful of geeks, and fence duty stabs them through the brain with lethally modified crowbars. It's gross, but it's necessary. It keeps you safe. Yet today they haven't seen a single undead. 

"Maybe they're dying," Christopher says. 

"They're already dead," Jonathan says. 

"How do you know? You felt for a pulse?" 

"They decompose," Jonathan says, laughing softly. "They're corpses." 

"I'm just saying." Christopher shrugs. 

Steve ignores them both without malice, staring through the section of chain link fence he's standing in front of and out into the streets. The north side of The College faces the surrounding town. From here, he can see a pharmacist's building, a sandwich shop, and a small veterinary clinic. Shells of cars long dismantled line the road. Natural works to reclaim them slowly, tires threaded with long grass. A few days ago, a deer ran straight up to the fence and stared at him. He promised you he'd come and find you next time, even though you hadn't really minded. He wants you to see it. There's more out there than just geeks and bad people. 

He shivers and fiddles with the holster on his hip, checking for the tenth time in as many minutes that the gun held within has the safety mechanism on. He really doesn't wanna shoot himself in the foot. That would majorly suck, though, he thinks, you'd look after him. That might make it worth it. 

Not that he'd shoot himself in the foot for your attention, that would be totally backwards. But he thinks you'd look cute as a nurse, with the little hat— 

"Do you hear that?" Jonathan asks. 

Steve pulls away from his questionable thoughts and turns to see his kind of friend. Jonathan stands with his nose to the fence, straight brown hair curling at the bottom of his neck. He needs a trim, but who is Steve to judge? 

"Hear what?" Steve asks. 

Though you can see the town through the gaps, the fences are blanketed by trees. Old trees with thick trunks, the kind that protesters would chain themselves to if the government ever suggested cutting them down. The ground around them is more dirt than grass, like the packed earth under the fence and Steve's shoes.

He assumes Jonathan's talking about the creaking of a thousand branches in the wind. Brown and orange leaves fall in droves, crinkly and scratchy as they litter the floor. 

"I can't hear anything," Steve says. 

"It sounds like a car engine," Jonathan says. 

Steve cannot agree. Now that the world is silent, car engines sound like jet planes. They shake the ground. There are no vibrations to be felt, but… there is something. 

"I'm gonna walk the perimeter," Steve says. A creeping unease takes shape over his shoulders like the winding suffocation of a python. He can feel the pressure of it against his throat. 

It's nothing, he thinks to himself. 

Sections of street flash between the trees. Tree, empty street. Tree, empty street. Each tree blocks the sun, and goosebumps erupt over his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up with each footstep into the dimness. Steve pulls his crowbar close to his chest. 

I'm paranoid, he promises himself, even as the strange sound Jonathan had heard begins to rise. He knows what it is, he knows, but he doesn't want to know. The wet suck of meat being pulled off the bone, and the dry rattle of lungs that won't fill. He lets the sun kiss his cold face for a moment, and then he stops behind the cover of a huge sycamore tree and leans, carefully, slowly, to the left. 

The sun hasn't warmed the sparse grass. Each blade is frosted into spikes. The leaf litter has turned to mulch, disturbed and churned by the body splayed open atop it. Blood emulsifies the dirt, a black mud that covers the hands, arms, knees, and mouths of a sizable herd. 

Steve flinches backward, covers his nose to shield himself from the stink, and swiftly presses stiff fingers over his mouth to stop himself chucking up. 

There must be fifty or more geeks huddled there, fighting for scraps of ligament, falling over chunks of inedible veel.

Steve wants to retreat quietly. His hands have other ideas. 

He drops the crowbar, fumbling for it with every centimetre it falls, and ends up knocking it a couple feet away with a horrified gasp. 

The fences are hammered into the ground so they can't be moved, but there aren't many fence posts between sections. Flimsy chain link is all that separates Steve and the herd. 

They look up. They start to move. 

Hands reach for him, hands force themselves through the holes of the fence, skin peeling back over muscle like the delicate rind of a pear. He watches in horror as the herd congregates, as the herd leans its collective weight against what's basically chicken wire, as dessicated flesh shaves off of their dead bodies, as the fence begins to bend. 

The geeks use each other like ladder, pulling and climbing, heaped like jenga tiles until a gnarled hand closes over the top of the fence. 

He wants to run. He needs to stay. He needs to separate them, he needs to thin the weight. He scrambles to take up his crowbar again, taking a step forward, but the tattle tale sound of metal scratching against metal squeals in his ear, and he leaps backward as the fence tips forward.

He should scream. 

He trips as he grabs the crowbar, palm aching as it smashes into the ground. He barely touches the floor, pushing himself back up and using his momentum to sprint toward the rendezvous point. 

"Jonathan!" he shouts, his voice strained. "They're over the fence. Section twenty one is coming down!" The fence has already come down, but Steve isn't thinking straight. 

Jonathan barely looks at Steve. He only needs one glance before he's looking past him. Steve looks back, too, and then he keeps on sprinting.

Jonathan unholsters his gun. Christopher does the same. 

Behind Steve, across the stretch of the college campus, a wave of geeks snap their gored maws. Steve runs harder than he's ever ran before, faster than he's ever moved, even faster than that night in the woods with you, scroungers on your tail, laughing and cussing, their flashlights shining at your heels like the beam of a prison guardhouse. 

Steve vaults himself over an overgrown hedge and right into the centre of the campus. There aren't many people out, but any at all is too many. 

"Get inside!" he shouts without explanation, shoes sliding over stone as he leaps for the civil defence siren nestled against the gym building. "Get inside! There are geeks inside the fence!" 

Jeremy and Dustin had jerry-rigged the broken siren months ago for situations like this to only play for two seconds. Not long enough to attract anything that isn't already here. Steve slams his hand into the button and stares up at it in a petrified awe as the siren begins to cry, one long and wailing wave of sound that careers over the community. 

It might be his imagination, but he thinks that the silence after it stops is imbued with impending doom. One empty, fragile moment, before the shouting begins, and the following pop of gunfire is impossible to ignore. 

He thinks of you in the kitchen across the quad. He thinks of running to you, of hiding you somewhere nobody will ever get to you. 

He runs back the way he came. 

—

All these little faces in disarray. You huddle amongst the youngest ones and try your best to keep them quiet, whispering a story as the sound of gunshots cracking over asphalt rivets the quiet. 

"Me and Steve, we saw all kinds of fish. We saw carp, and salmon, and koi fish in the lake. They looked like huge, gorgeous goldfish, they had–" everyone jumps as something close by takes a hit, a fence perhaps, split apart— "these huge black eyes and these popping mouths. You know how fish pop their lips together?" 

You look around the circle and beg one of them to answer. If Sammy weren't such a wicked shot she would've stayed and handled this a hell of a lot better than you are.

"I know," says one of the youngest girls. She can't be six years olds. 

"Yeah? How do they do it?" 

She starts to pop her lips. You grin despite your welling panic and nod encouragingly. You'd clap if your hands weren't full of smaller hands. 

"Yeah, like that! They were swimming so close to us, I could see their gills." 

Your story isn't true, but it is distracting. You hold their attention for as long as you can. Pauline stands in the doorway, eyes flitting between the three entrances to the cafeteria, and Maybelle haunts the sink, hiding just behind the other overhead spray to try and find out what's going on. The storm siren hasn't sounded again, and Hopper hasn't come around to tell you it's safe. 

It might never be safe again.

You swallow down the urge to scream and squeeze the tiny fingers curled over your palm. They belong to a little boy, white and brown-haired with pretty hooded eyes. He looks like Steve. 

You could've sworn, just before the siren, that you'd heard him yelling, but you'd raced to the sink and looked out and hadn't seen him. 

You can't help thinking about it. About everything — he could die. He could already be dead. Joyce swore she hadn't seen him, and had only managed to speak to Christopher, who'd split off to alert the older group. She said Jonthan was holding off a group of geeks. She couldn't stay, determined to go help him. 

So if Christopher was looking for Hopper, and Jonathan was by himself at the north fence, where was Steve? Where exactly was the leak? 

You lean forward toward the kids and whisper, "Does anyone else have a story? From a vacation?" 

"We went to Niagara Falls, once," Becky says. 

"You did? What was it like, huh? Was the waterfall really loud?" 

Becky starts to tell her story. You try to listen. You can't think of anything at all besides Steve, though your priority is keeping everybody here safe, your brain won't stop. You can't shake the feeling that you'll lose him, and it's a bright red branding behind your eyes. You're gonna lose him.

This can't be happening. 

It's been a month since Connor, an ex-member of The College with delusions of grandeur, dragged you underdressed and freezing through miles of forest with your wrists bound, wondering if you'd ever see Steve again. A month of nightmares and hot flashes and reaching out for Steve in the dark. 

You'd thought, if you died, if Connor killed you, that it would ruin Steve's life. He'd waste it looking for you. You'd thought that was the worst feeling in the world, knowing you'd leave him behind.

You hadn't understood what this part felt like. How Steve must've felt, wondering if you were dead. How he must've argued with himself as you do now. 

Steve hadn't hesitated. Robin mentioned it once, casual but earnest. Steve tore the place apart looking for you. He assembled a search party and went looking for you on a hunch. Steve says he's lucky they chose the right direction. You know it's more than that. You know you're the lucky one. 

He knew you were in danger, and he came to get you. 

"Maybelle," you say, standing up. "I'm gonna need a knife." 

— 

Steve isn't sure what the fuck they're doing. Hopper shouts instructions but they're confusing and nobody knows what's happening. Geek gore drips down his arm and he prays he doesn't have any broken skin as he ploughs the sharp of the crowbar deep into a grey mottled eye socket. 

It shucks out, the geek's body collapsing in a heap at his feet. Tens more stagger forward.

"Everyone should be inside, but that doesn't mean everyone is inside!" Hopper shouts, his booming voice echoing over the din of shots and slick stabbing. "We need to contain them. Joyce, Jonathan, I need you back here. Bernier, Taylor, McCoy, push for the fence! We need to get it back up and standing before this gets worse. Harrington!" 

Steve pierces the skull of an approaching geek like an eggshell, springing back before a second can tear a chunk out of him. "What?" he yells. 

"You should circle back to the quad, make sure there aren't any stragglers."

"Joyce already secured–" 

"It's up to you, kid." 

Steve appreciates what Hopper's doing. Everyone knows you and Steve are unhealthily dependent on one another right now considering the circumstances, and he'll admit that his heart wants literally nothing more than to be where you are. He thinks of you locked up in the kitchen with all this happening outside and hates it, but as long as you stay where you are, that's as safe as you can be. 

He doesn't bother saying yes or no, throwing himself back into the throng. 

It's the ultimate workout. Sweat stings his eyes, his brain pounds behind them. He has to stay vigilant and he has to be fast. He cuts down geeks with a practised agility, Bernier on one side, Taylor the other. They force their way to the fence, and soon there's a small army of survivors behind them, bullets burning his eardrum to the right. 

When the fence is finally in view again, they buckle down. 

It's a huge struggle. Hopper and Livingstone front a team of five of the older guys with a replacement fence on their literal shoulders. The woods are teaming with geeks who must have heard the gunfire and the siren. They cut down the old fence behind Steve and the youngers. The new one gets thrown up just as Steve spears a geek through the ear, hammers whacking into frozen earth with a sound like a car crash.

"Harrington, inside the perimeter!" 

Steve eyes an imminent geek but does as Hopper commands, weaselling through the single gap they've left behind. They finish the inner hammering and Hopper and Livingstone set about chaining the sections back together. 

Steve backs away from the fence and tries to catch his breath. He leans back and brushes the hair out of his eyes, chest heaving, eyes shuttering closed in relied. They survived it. They did exactly what they were supposed to do in this situation and the plan worked. 

Somebody takes the crowbar from his hand and he lets them, scrubbing both hands through his hair, scalp cool with sweat as a gale of wind blows. He looks up, and the sky has darkened, that rare morning sunshine nowhere to be seen. 

He opens his eyes. Christopher is sitting a ways away looking queasy. Joyce is hugging the life out of Jonathan, kissing his cheek, hand in his hair. Bernier and Taylor are stabbing the new wave of geeks. Steve isn't worried, there aren't a quarter as many as there had been. 

The smell is barbaric. 

"Don't relax too quickly, kid," Hopper says, "we still gotta round up the bodies." 

Steve laughs morosely, secretly pleased when Hopper pats him on the shoulder. His back fucking hurts and he stinks of gore and zombie gunk. Dead material somehow slimy and dry as bark at once, Steve wants a shower, and a hug from you, in that specific order. 

"You okay?" Jonathan asks him, squinting. There's blood splattered against his forehead. 

"They had to do this today?" Steve asks. "This is my favourite shirt. I'm never gonna get the guts out–" 

A scream splits the air. 

"The quad," Hopper announces. "Taylor, Bernier, keep going. Everyone else, with me." 

His blood ice in his veins, Steve runs with the rest of the group. He realises he's left his crowbar with Taylor and grimaces, pulling the gun from his holster and knocking off the safety mechanism. Steve isn't good with a gun. He only ever used one right at the start, when he hadn't known that sound to a geek is like a porch light to moths. That, and he'd run out of ammo. 

"Oh, goddammit." 

There's a crowd of geeks they must've missed around the side of the town hall. Hopper immediately starts yelling at a young teenager screaming in front of the gym to get back inside. 

Steve's okay, his heart's fine, and then he sees you. You're wrist deep in brains, surrounded by bodies and coated in a black spray of blood. It's in your hair, your eyebrows, all over your cheek and your shoulder. 

He nearly wrenches Livingstone off of his feet as he bursts forward to help you, gun raised and poised. He shoots and drives forward. One geek, two. Three, five, he loses count. He gets so close he can hear your panting breath, not panicked but struggling to keep going. 

"Fucker," he says, one geek left between you and safety. 

You scramble to the side. Steve shoots it point black in the back of the head. It falls down slow, and then it thunks against your shoes. 

You reach for him on automatic as you pull your feet from under him, treading over the soft of the geeks shoulders and into Steve's waiting arms. He holds the gun away from you to click on the safety, shoving it back into his borrowed holster. 

"You're okay?" you ask loudly. 

"I'm fine, what are you doing out here? You should've stayed inside the pantry." 

"Says who?" you ask, squeezing him so tightly he feels his skin bruising in the shapes of your arms. 

"Says everyone!" he shouts, squeezing you back just as hard. 

You catch your breath together. His hands rove over your back, checking and rechecking that you're real and you're not hurt. He pushes you away from him to check your front properly, hand on your face, your arms. 

"I'm fine," you say, "I'm perfect." 

"You have more blood on you than the rest of us put together." 

You hum unhappily. "I think I got a fresh one in the artery. It sprayed like a fountain, it was–" You sigh, stroking a loose curl of dirtied hair from his eyes. "It was disgusting." 

He wants to kiss you, but he's normal, and you're both plastered in blood. He's less normal as he wraps his forearm behind your head and forces your face into his neck, groaning in an exhaustive relief. Your warm breath against his skin is everything he could ever ask for. 

"Stay inside, next time," he murmurs. 

"Not a chance." 

"Think I can give him a citation?" Steve hears Hopper ask. 

Joyce gasps through a laugh. "They're cute!" 

"This is a public space." 

Steve huffs a laugh against your ear. "Holy shit, you scared the fuck out of me." 

"I had to know you were okay." 

His hand slides down your shoulders, searching for something he can't explain. "I'm okay. We're okay, honey. You can relax."

The last of your resistance ebbs away. You melt into his arms, and Steve pretends for your sake that he can't feel you shaking like a leaf. You just tore your way through a herd to make sure he was okay: you're the bravest girl he's ever met.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 22

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

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Monday, November 30; 8:15 AM - School.

Spending a day in the snow is nice. Doing it two days in a row and getting sick, not so much. I caught a nasty flu. Seeing my condition on Friday morning, Bronze outright forbade me from going to class. I was only good for crawling back into bed for the day. I even had to give up my trip back to Barcelona, even though my leave had been approved. I figured there was no point in going home just to stay in bed and spread my germs to everyone. Bronze stayed behind and spent some time with me when I wasn't sleeping. I wasn't even able to talk to her because of my hoarse voice. It wasn't until today that I regained enough of my voice to speak.

I sneeze for the umpteenth time as I make my way to my instructor's office. Since my condition has slightly improved today, I insisted on going back to class. Bronze couldn't forbid me from going, especially with the determination I showed. I didn't want to fall further behind, given I already was. Everything seemed fine, but I never imagined my teacher would turn me away after seeing my state. Well, it's true I look a bit pale, tired, and haven't fully recovered my voice, but I felt capable of working! He finally gave me a chance, but it was short-lived. He forced me to leave after five minutes because I couldn't stop coughing and blowing my nose. Great, right? For once, I was motivated, and they wouldn't let me work. I knock on the office door, which is wide open. The two instructors I'm used to seeing instinctively look up at the sound.

"He sent me away because of my condition," I mumble in a raspy voice.

I sound like a duck. Engen suppresses a laugh. I have trouble understanding what I just said myself. I cross my arms to pull my jacket tighter around me. The classrooms may be heated, but the hallways are a different story.

"No wonder," chuckles Engen. "You look like a zombie!"

"Stop mocking her, Ingrid," Bronze scolds. "I told you it was a bad idea."

I sneeze again and cover my nose with my hand as it starts to run. That was too much for Engen, who bursts out laughing. My supervisor stands up, grabbing her jacket. I thank her when she offers me a tissue. She gave me a pack this morning, but it's already empty. Well, I can only agree with her. It was really a bad idea to try going back to class.

"I'll take her back to her room. I'll be back soon."

"No problem. Get well soon, Ona."

"Thanks."

She escorts me to the dorm. I head to the bathroom to put on some sweatpants and a thicker sweater, and I take the opportunity to wash my hands. Then I dive into my bed. To think I had taken the trouble to make it neatly. Bronze looks at me with amusement. She approaches me and checks my temperature. We both know that if I'm sick, it's because of my recent relapse. My immune system is shot. The pill Bronze gave me this morning must be working because, according to her, I no longer have a fever. I had one over the weekend. I felt like I was going back a few weeks.

"Well, I'm going to Wiegman's to see if I can take you to the doctor. You need proper treatment if you want to get well quickly. I won't be long. Stay put here in the meantime."

"Very funny. Where else would I go?" I grumble.

"With you, one never knows," she smiles. "I'll be back."

I sigh as I watch her leave, then lie down with my back to the door. I pull the blanket up as high as possible and try to fall asleep. I almost succeed before Bronze returns. She orders me to get up. She got Wiegman's permission to see a doctor. It looks like my day in bed is ruined. I'm forced to put my boots and jacket back on. Luckily for me, she doesn't make me wear my uniform. We head out in her car, and I recognize the route to downtown.

"By the way, did you give my wish list to my teacher?" I ask her.

"Yes, on Friday."

I sense some hesitation from her to continue. She eventually refrains, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

"Is there a problem?"

"Actually, yes. I shouldn't be telling you this, but he was surprised by your first choice," she admits. "We ended up talking a bit, and he showed me your grades. Why didn't you tell me they were so bad?"

I regret pushing her to continue. We hit a traffic jam at that moment. The only subjects where I manage to get average grades are literature and languages. I shouldn't normally worry about my last two choices.

"You should have told me. You have failing grades in everything!" she scolds.

"I do not!" I retort. "In literature and languages."

"That's not enough to get you into management!"

I sigh and rest my head against the window. Bronze moves forward with the traffic. Is she trying to make me understand that I have no chance of getting my first choice? That's probably it. I don't have the time or means to catch up. We're nearing the end of the first semester, which means there aren't many assignments left to improve my grades.

"Do you even study at all?"

"The minimum," I admit.

"I managed to get an opportunity for you."

"Oh, really?" I ask uncertainly.

"Yes. But only if you want to and feel motivated to do it."

"What opportunity?"

"You have the chance to retake a test in each subject. The new grades will replace your worst ones. Your teacher also told me that you'll likely have two more tests per subject before the semester ends."

"How am I supposed to do that? There are only three weeks left!"

"That's why I said you need to be motivated. It's a chance for you since they don't have enough grades."

"How did you get this opportunity?" I ask, watching her bite her lip for a moment.

"Don't get mad, but I had to explain your academic situation. If you accept, I want you to come study in my office after your classes starting Wednesday. We have three weeks to turn things around. It's up to you."

"Why are you doing this?" I whisper.

She's going through so much trouble. It's my problem if I don't get accepted into my first choice. It's because of my behavior at the beginning that I'm in this situation. I didn't care about grades or being here. I never tried to catch up since then. The only test I think I did well on was last week's math test.

"I know you care about your choice. Be grateful I'm giving you this chance, once again. It's clearly the only thing that can save you. Even if you get average grades, they'll see you've made an effort, and that will only be positive for you."

"Alright... I don't have much choice anyway."

"Good. I'll tell your teacher then."

The cough that takes over prevents me from replying, so I nod. Damn illness. We arrive at our destination shortly after this conversation. She parks in front of a tall building. I don't know exactly where we are, but it's impressive. I follow Bronze, who seems to know the place. The interior is as vast as the exterior. I spot signs indicating the names of several doctors. We reach the reception where Bronze introduces us. The receptionist directs us to an elevator, noting our presence. Bronze seems to know where we're going because she presses the third-floor button without being told. I keep alternating between sneezing, coughing, and using tissues. I'm slowly losing patience while Bronze mocks me. When we arrive on the floor, we head to a waiting room that's thankfully not too crowded. Bronze makes herself comfortable while I don't even dare take off my jacket. The wait is long. My supervisor is lucky to have games to occupy her while I twiddle my thumbs.

"Is the doctor a man or a woman?"

"A man, why?"

"Will you come with me?" I ask, biting my lower lip.

She frowns and puts down her game. I don't really want to be alone with him, especially since I don't know him. Seeing I won't explain, she shrugs.

"I planned to wait here, but it's fine if you want me to come with you."

"Thank you," I sigh.

"Do you have a problem with doctors?"

"Not really... Do you know him?"

"He's my doctor."

"Oh."

"He's young and cool. You don't have to worry."

She says that to reassure me, but it has the opposite effect. I sigh after sneezing again. Bronze smiles and hands me a tissue, which I accept with thanks.

"You'll come with me, right?"

"Yes, Ona," she rolls her eyes with a smile.

"Don't make fun of me," I grumble.

"Oh no, not at all," she smiles more.

She chuckles softly as I pout. We attract the attention of the other people in the room. It must have been very quiet before we arrived.

"Will you tell me about this problem someday?"

"Maybe once."

For now, I'm not ready to do so. It would reveal a lot about me.

"Here, do you want to play?" she asks, handing me her phone.

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Yes, you need to relax. You're way too stressed," she giggles.

I stick out my tongue and take her phone. It's been so long since I last played. I don't find the time to do it anymore. I smile when I see she has a Candy Crush level in progress. I was addicted to this game for a while. I remember this level where she's stuck very well. It took me a month to pass it. I'm playing through all her lives under Bronze's watchful eye. Meanwhile, other patients come and go.

- Oh shit, you did it!!! I’ve been stuck on this level for two months!

I giggle at her childish behavior, which once again draws attention to us. She apologizes for the disturbance before returning to her phone. I’m surprised myself that I passed this level. I guess it was just a stroke of luck. She seems in disbelief as she stares at the screen. We lift our heads when my name is called. I panic slightly when I see the young doctor. Bronze is the first to stand, placing her hand on my shoulder. I force myself to follow them into the office. He recognizes my supervisor, which surprises me. I didn't think she was the type to come here regularly. He asks me to lie on the examination bed in the middle of the room. I do as he asks without taking my eyes off my supervisor. She sits on a chair in front of the doctor’s desk, turning it to watch.

- Is she your sister? the doctor asks Bronze.

- What? Bronze chuckles. Do we look alike?

- No, I was just asking. It’s the first time you’ve come with someone... for the few times you do come.

Bingo, I was right. Bronze laughs softly. I don’t see what’s so funny. The situation is quite exasperating. It’s clear the doctor is interested in Bronze from the way he looks at her. I almost want to tell him he doesn’t stand a chance because she’s a lesbian.

- She’s a student from my workplace.

Bronze is too kind. I wouldn’t have even bothered answering for her. The doctor turns to face me. He gives me one of his best smiles while I barely avoid squinting at him.

- I didn’t know you were teachers.

I snicker as he frowns and begins my examination. He’s not gentle, the bastard. He must be doing it on purpose to get back at me. I look at my supervisor, who smiles at me unexpectedly. I roll my eyes with a slight grimace, which makes her smile wider.

- You’re not a teacher?

My doctor turns back to Bronze. She tries to regain her serious demeanor. I snicker, realizing it’s a lost cause. In reality, I think she’s fully aware that he’s trying to get her attention. I’m surprised she doesn’t shut him down. It’s something that would annoy me if I were in her place.

- No, not really, she replies as seriously as possible.

- And what do you do then?

- I don’t think that interests you.

- Oh, but it does!

- Of course it interests him, Bronze, I say cheerfully.

She silences me with a stern look. The doctor finally asks me to cough. I almost scream in response to his rough movements. What a bastard! It hurts more and more!

- She’s a student in a private school, and the student in front of you is my responsibility, so you better make sure she gets well quickly and in the best conditions.

Bronze uses her famous tone that always gives me chills. I hold back a smile, seeing the doctor swallow hard. I’d almost pity him, knowing how that feels. I didn’t expect Bronze to defend me or even notice how he was examining me. Strangely, since her intervention, he stops hurting me.

- It’s a nasty flu, he announces.

- Thanks, I already figured that out, I roll my eyes.

- Ona, be nice like I taught you, will you? my supervisor scolds me.

I roll my eyes. Well, I deserved that jab, but she could have spared me from looking like a complete idiot.

- It’s okay, don’t worry, the doctor laughs, which makes me want to vomit. I’ll prescribe your treatment. Take it morning, noon, and night with meals for a week.

He lets me pull down my shirt and moves behind his desk. I jump off the bed to sit next to Bronze.

- You’ll see how well you taught me to behave, I whisper, loudly enough though.

She slaps my thigh unexpectedly. A loud noise makes her eyes widen. I groan, holding my thigh. She didn’t miss. She laughs softly, patting my shoulders.

- You okay? she chuckles.

- You’re a brute, I swear! I grumble.

She laughs even more, apologizing this time. I look up at the doctor, who seems surprised by our behavior. At the same time, I’m supposed to be her student. It makes me realize we have an exceptional bond. It’s a bit of a strange relationship, but we appreciate each other a lot. If we had met in a different context, I’m sure we’d be friends in another way.

- You seem very close for her to be your student, the doctor comments.

- Well, let’s just say she’s a special student to me, she replies, ruffling my hair.

- Stop that, I grumble, pulling away from her hand.

I see her smile from the corner of my eye. Her words echo in my head. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s nice to hear. The doctor pulls us out of our bubble by handing me my prescription. Bronze takes it before I can.

- Well, it was a pleasure to see you again.

- Likewise.

I cough exaggeratedly, letting out a small "liar" between coughs. This earns me a disapproving look from Bronze. He might have been credible if she hadn’t been holding back a smile. I hit the nail on the head again. She finally shakes the doctor’s hand, and I do the same right after. The doctor leads us out to open the door. We say goodbye before he goes to get his next patient. I jump when I get a kick in the butt as I head to the elevator. I say nothing until the doors close on us. We both burst out laughing.

- Don’t make a scene like that again, or you’ll see what happens, she scolds, hitting my shoulder.

- Admit it was funny! He was openly flirting with you! He even took it out on me because he was jealous.

I widen my eyes when she shows me a little piece of paper with a phone number written on it. She steps out of the elevator and continues as if nothing happened. I don’t know what shocks me more. The fact that she took the piece of paper or the fact that I didn’t notice. I quickly exit the elevator to catch up with Bronze, who is still laughing.

- Tell me you’re not going to call him? Because I mean, even I can do better than him at that level, right? He’s really annoying, don’t you think?

- Are you kidding? she laughs. I told you I’m only interested in women. I just didn’t want to hurt his feelings. And you’re right, he’s a bit annoying.

- You’re giving him false hope, which is worse!

- You think?

- Definitely! He expects you to call him now.

She looks at the piece of paper carefully before tearing it up without hesitation. I giggle, understanding what that means.

- Well, it seems I’ll have to change doctors.

I shake my head, amused, as we return to the car. At least I’m sure now that she’s not interested in men. I’m still struggling to get used to the idea. It seems like she has no trouble showing it. Yet, after what just happened, I understand that she doesn’t shout it from the rooftops either.

- I don’t regret asking you to come with me to the office.

- Hmm, don’t get too excited. I expect explanations for this in the near future, remember.

- Or a distant future.

- Near and non-negotiable.

She challenges me with a raised eyebrow. No matter what she wants, we both know I’ll talk when I’m ready. Before heading home, Bronze stops at the pharmacy to get my medication. It looks like her confidence is returning. She left me alone in the car with the keys in the ignition so I could keep the heat and music on. I take the opportunity to observe her dashboard in her absence. I’d love to have the same car someday. Her sudden return surprises me. I blush for being caught red-handed. I quickly reposition myself as she settles back in. She places a full bag on my lap.

- Like my car? she smiles.

- Yeah... I say, my cheeks still red. Bronze, will you let me drive it once?

- Lucy.

- Pardon?

- Call me Lucy. It’s starting to annoy me that you call me by my last name all the time when you know my first name.

- You’re the one who doesn’t want me to call you by your first name, I remind her.

-At school, yes, but outside, I allow you to call me by my first name.

- And like when we’re alone at camp? Like our future evening classes? I ask, making her roll her eyes with an amused smile.

- Your flu should have completely silenced you.

- Hey! I didn’t ask for anything bad.

- No, but you always ask for more. You should be happy I let you call me by my first name outside. Otherwise, it’s too risky. We don’t know who’s around.

I nod, biting my lip. She’s probably right that I keep asking for more. I can understand that she doesn’t want to take risks. We’ve already been interrupted several times without noticing someone else was around.

- Do you have a license? she changes the subject.

- Yeah, but no car. My mom didn’t want to take any risks at the time.

- Understandable.

- Yes, completely, but it makes- Oh shit, you did it!!! I’ve been stuck on this level for two months!

I giggle at her childish behavior, which once again draws attention to us. She apologizes for the disturbance before returning to her phone. I’m surprised myself that I passed this level. I guess it was just a stroke of luck. She seems in disbelief as she stares at the screen. We lift our heads when my name is called. I panic slightly when I see the young doctor. Bronze is the first to stand, placing her hand on my shoulder. I force myself to follow them into the office. He recognizes my supervisor, which surprises me. I didn't think she was the type to come here regularly. He asks me to lie on the examination bed in the middle of the room. I do as he asks without taking my eyes off my supervisor. She sits on a chair in front of the doctor’s desk, turning it to watch.

- Is she your sister? the doctor asks Bronze.

- What? Bronze chuckles. Do we look alike?

- No, I was just asking. It’s the first time you’ve come with someone... for the few times you do come.

Bingo, I was right. Bronze laughs softly. I don’t see what’s so funny. The situation is quite exasperating. It’s clear the doctor is interested in Bronze from the way he looks at her. I almost want to tell him he doesn’t stand a chance because she’s a lesbian.

- She’s a student from my workplace.

Bronze is too kind. I wouldn’t have even bothered answering for her. The doctor turns to face me. He gives me one of his best smiles while I barely avoid squinting at him.

- I didn’t know you were teachers.

I snicker as he frowns and begins my examination. He’s not gentle, the bastard. He must be doing it on purpose to get back at me. I look at my supervisor, who smiles at me unexpectedly. I roll my eyes with a slight grimace, which makes her smile wider.

- You’re not a teacher?

My doctor turns back to Bronze. She tries to regain her serious demeanor. I snicker, realizing it’s a lost cause. In reality, I think she’s fully aware that he’s trying to get her attention. I’m surprised she doesn’t shut him down. It’s something that would annoy me if I were in her place.

- No, not really, she replies as seriously as possible.

- And what do you do then?

- I don’t think that interests you.

- Oh, but it does!

- Of course it interests him, Bronze, I say cheerfully.

She silences me with a stern look. The doctor finally asks me to cough. I almost scream in response to his rough movements. What a bastard! It hurts more and more!

- She’s a student in a private school, and the student in front of you is my responsibility, so you better make sure she gets well quickly and in the best conditions.

Bronze uses her famous tone that always gives me chills. I hold back a smile, seeing the doctor swallow hard. I’d almost pity him, knowing how that feels. I didn’t expect Bronze to defend me or even notice how he was examining me. Strangely, since her intervention, he stops hurting me.

- It’s a nasty flu, he announces.

- Thanks, I already figured that out, I roll my eyes.

- Ona, be nice like I taught you, will you? my supervisor scolds me.

I roll my eyes. Well, I deserved that jab, but she could have spared me from looking like a complete idiot.

- It’s okay, don’t worry, the doctor laughs, which makes me want to vomit. I’ll prescribe your treatment. Take it morning, noon, and night with meals for a week.

He lets me pull down my shirt and moves behind his desk. I jump off the bed to sit next to Bronze.

- You’ll see how well you taught me to behave, I whisper, loudly enough though.

She slaps my thigh unexpectedly. A loud noise makes her eyes widen. I groan, holding my thigh. She didn’t miss. She laughs softly, patting my shoulders.

- You okay? she chuckles.

- You’re a brute, I swear! I grumble.

She laughs even more, apologizing this time. I look up at the doctor, who seems surprised by our behavior. At the same time, I’m supposed to be her student. It makes me realize we have an exceptional bond. It’s a bit of a strange relationship, but we appreciate each other a lot. If we had met in a different context, I’m sure we’d be friends in another way.

- You seem very close for her to be your student, the doctor comments.

- Well, let’s just say she’s a special student to me, she replies, ruffling my hair.

- Stop that, I grumble, pulling away from her hand.

I see her smile from the corner of my eye. Her words echo in my head. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s nice to hear. The doctor pulls us out of our bubble by handing me my prescription. Bronze takes it before I can.

- Well, it was a pleasure to see you again.

- Likewise.

I cough exaggeratedly, letting out a small "liar" between coughs. This earns me a disapproving look from Bronze. He might have been credible if she hadn’t been holding back a smile. I hit the nail on the head again. She finally shakes the doctor’s hand, and I do the same right after. The doctor leads us out to open the door. We say goodbye before he goes to get his next patient. I jump when I get a kick in the butt as I head to the elevator. I say nothing until the doors close on us. We both burst out laughing.

- Don’t make a scene like that again, or you’ll see what happens, she scolds, hitting my shoulder.

- Admit it was funny! He was openly flirting with you! He even took it out on me because he was jealous.

I widen my eyes when she shows me a little piece of paper with a phone number written on it. She steps out of the elevator and continues as if nothing happened. I don’t know what shocks me more. The fact that she took the piece of paper or the fact that I didn’t notice. I quickly exit the elevator to catch up with Bronze, who is still laughing.

- Tell me you’re not going to call him? Because I mean, even I can do better than him at that level, right? He’s really annoying, don’t you think?

- Are you kidding? she laughs. I told you I’m only interested in women. I just didn’t want to hurt his feelings. And you’re right, he’s a bit annoying.

- You’re giving him false hope, which is worse!

- You think?

- Definitely! He expects you to call him now.

She looks at the piece of paper carefully before tearing it up without hesitation. I giggle, understanding what that means.

- Well, it seems I’ll have to change doctors.

I shake my head, amused, as we return to the car. At least I’m sure now that she’s not interested in men. I’m still struggling to get used to the idea. It seems like she has no trouble showing it. Yet, after what just happened, I understand that she doesn’t shout it from the rooftops either.

- I don’t regret asking you to come with me to the office.

- Hmm, don’t get too excited. I expect explanations for this in the near future, remember.

- Or a distant future.

- Near and non-negotiable.

She challenges me with a raised eyebrow. No matter what she wants, we both know I’ll talk when I’m ready. Before heading home, Bronze stops at the pharmacy to get my medication. It looks like her confidence is returning. She left me alone in the car with the keys in the ignition so I could keep the heat and music on. I take the opportunity to observe her dashboard in her absence. I’d love to have the same car someday. Her sudden return surprises me. I blush for being caught red-handed. I quickly reposition myself as she settles back in. She places a full bag on my lap.

- Like my car? she smiles.

- Yeah... I say, my cheeks still red. Bronze, will you let me drive it once?

- Lucy.

- Pardon?

- Call me Lucy. It’s starting to annoy me that you call me by my last name all the time when you know my first name.

- You’re the one who doesn’t want me to call you by your first name, I remind her.

- At school, yes, but outside, I allow you to call me by my first name. You don’t hesitate to use “tu” with me, so a first name won’t change much.

- And like when we’re alone at camp? Like our future evening classes? I ask, making her roll her eyes with an amused smile.

- Your flu should have completely silenced you.

- Hey! I didn’t ask for anything bad.

- No, but you always ask for more. You should be happy I let you call me by my first name outside. Otherwise, it’s too risky. We don’t know who’s around.

I nod, biting my lip. She’s probably right that I keep asking for more. I can understand that she doesn’t want to take risks. We’ve already been interrupted several times without noticing someone else was around.

- Do you have a license? she changes the subject.

- Yeah, but no car. My mom didn’t want to take any risks at the time.

- Understandable.

- Yes, completely, but it makes me want to now. I never really got to drive since then. I don’t even know if I can still do it.

- And you’re asking if you can drive my car? she raises an eyebrow.

- You can’t blame me for dreaming of driving an Audi.

She laughs, shaking her head. Once again, I feel like I’m asking for too much. We continue talking for the rest of the trip. I tell her how I learned to drive with my dad. He let me drive in the countryside when I was a teenager, without my mom knowing. Later, I really learned on the roads with my mom. It wasn’t a pleasant time. We always argued. This conversation keeps us occupied for the entire return trip. My cough still doesn’t calm down. I had to clear my throat more than once during our conversation. I feel exhausted now that the excitement has subsided. It’s eleven o'clock when we get back to my room. She goes back to work while I crawl under my blanket after taking off my sweatpants. I’m alone long enough to sleep in my underwear. I fall asleep quickly. Unfortunately, I’m woken up shortly after. It’s Bronze again, standing over my head with a smile.

-Wake up, sleepyhead. I’ve let you sleep long enough.

"What time is it?" I mumbled.

"Past one o'clock."

I sighed deeply after coughing so hard it hurt my chest. I rolled onto my back to see her better. I thought Alexia was going to wake me up, but she must have gone back to class.

"Come on, get out from under there. Let's eat."

I grumbled in discontent. I really didn't want to get out of bed, especially to eat when I wasn't hungry at all. That didn't stop her from throwing my tracksuit right in my face.

"I managed to catch Alexia in the hallways to give you an extra hour, so do me a favor and get up to share your meal with me."

"I'm not hungry," I admitted.

"That's why I asked for some soup to be prepared. You need to eat something with your medication."

I rolled my eyes, which made her smile. I could have done without it, especially the soup. I had eaten enough of it during my detox. I held back a groan, stretched, and then pulled off my blanket to sit at the edge of the bed. She had a victorious smile when I put on my tracksuit. She rummaged through the medicine bag lying on my desk.

"What are you doing?" I asked, dragging my feet toward her.

"I'm checking what you need to take this afternoon."

"Yeah, basically I have to take everything," I said, seeing her pull out the boxes one by one.

"Have you taken any syrup?"

"No, I haven't touched anything."

"Make sure you take some after eating then. It will calm your cough."

"You're not going to manage my medication again, are you?"

"It seems I will, since you can't take them yourself."

I rolled my eyes, sniffing loudly.

"Got a tissue?"

"Yeah. Take this afterward," she said, handing me a nasal spray.

"You're so annoying."

I sighed again but listened to her. She wasn't going to give me the last word on this kind of thing.

"Can I wear my sneakers?"

"We'll make an exception this time."

She took my medicine bag, and we went to the cafeteria, which was empty. Our tray was already prepared by the staff. Bronze must have notified them before fetching me because she thanked them. We sat at her table on the educators' side. She didn't force me to eat anything but the soup, but that was already too much. I slumped over the table.

"Make an effort and eat a bit."

"Um... I won't be able to go out this weekend, right?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I don't know."

I stirred my spoon in my soup while she prepared all the pills I had to take. There were at least five. I swallowed them without complaint with my glass of water.

"You can go if your leave is approved. Eat your soup; it will get cold," she scolded.

I forced myself to eat a few bites to please her. It felt like my stomach disagreed. I had already lost my appetite, and now that I was sick, it was even worse. I spent more time playing with the soup than putting it in my mouth. Bronze eventually took the spoon from my hand, dipped it into my bowl, and brought it to my mouth. I groaned, understanding her intention to feed me.

"More?"

"It's the only way you'll eat, isn't it?"

"Fine, I'll eat."

I tried to take the spoon back, but she pulled it away.

"Too late. Open your mouth."

I sighed, resigned, and opened my mouth where she placed the spoon. I swallowed everything under her smile.

"Happy?"

"When you've finished everything, yes. Open."

I rolled my eyes, taking another spoonful. I had tried to take the spoon back, but she even smacked my fingers. She finished her dish in the meantime. I finished mine without much enthusiasm. I didn't like her doing this. One, because I was forcing myself to eat, and two, because it made me feel dependent.

"Can I stay here if I don't want to go back?"

"This weekend?"

"Yes..."

"Why wouldn't you want to go back?"

"I want to do my Christmas shopping..."

"Are you trying to tell me something?" she smiled.

"I just want to know if there's a way to go out if I stay here. Well, I still need to recover first..."

"We'll discuss it if you like. Now, open your mouth; you're almost done."

I accepted the end without protest. I slumped over the table right after she took my bowl away. I could have fallen asleep on that table; I was so tired. The flu was draining all my energy. Bronze had to pull me up from my chair.

"Can't you carry me?"

"And what else?"

"You have no pity for the sick," I grumbled.

"Correction, I have no pity for you. Come on, Ona, don't be a child. You'll be back in bed in five minutes."

With this news, I found the motivation to move. I accompanied her to clear the tray, and then we returned to the dormitory. Before letting me lie down, she made me take some syrup to calm my cough and use the nasal spray. Finally, I lay down after all that. I took off my tracksuit again to be more comfortable. I was surprised she stayed by my bed to keep me company.

"Why are you staying? I'm going to fall asleep."

"I know. Just sleep. You need the rest."

I smiled softly, watching her read with my sleepy expression. Her presence reassured me. I was glad she stayed, even though sleep came quickly thanks to my light conscience.

[shadow1515]

Too Sweet

Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)

You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for. 

Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.

Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.

You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead. 

One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you. 

Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion. 

Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.

“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?

You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you. 

“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”

The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying. 

You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?

The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue. 

“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.

At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”

Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?

“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.

The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”

You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything. 

The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this. 

Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.

“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”

“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.” 

You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could. 

The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”

“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”

A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.

Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it. 

The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.” 

At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face. 

Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves. 

A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”

His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again. 

“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”

Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face. 

The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you. 

“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”

His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately. 

You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.

Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again. 

Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.

You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.

“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”

You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.

“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.

The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.

“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.” 

His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault. 

The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”

So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin. 

“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable. 

“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants. 

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip. 

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”

The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen. 

In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips. 

The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”

Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level. 

You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–

A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses. 

“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you. 

“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?

Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing. 

“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?” 

He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.

The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”

Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”

Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper. 

It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt. 

“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace. 

You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin. 

You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him. 

The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”

The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.

Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.

“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”

His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you. 

The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”

Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out. 

[sugolara]

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

Feat. Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto Todoroki x Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

An ongoing series.

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down its borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's too late for some people. The dead have risen and are looking for revenge.

Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, heavy angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, updates thursday/sunday, slow burn, wd: 1k - 5k, its a quirkless! au, so u.a is a  private high school with general education along with classes that have hands-on experience; like a trade school.

BEING HEAVILY EDITED: s1 - s5 has been heavily edited as of 7/15/24 - 9/16/24, so a few things may not make sense if you are re-reading or the comments do not make sense.

Inspired by, ''The Walking Dead''

Table of contents:

Season 1: The beginning of us. Episode 1: Begin Episode 2: Not alone Episode 3: Gone but not forgotten Episode 4: You belong in this world Episode 5: Because all life is precious Episode 6: Musutafu, we'll meet again Episode 7: Izuku: I'd always thought there be more time

Season 2: The setting I lived for. Episode 8: During these two weeks Episode 9: Diopside, like your eyes Episode 10: For the first time in a long time Episode 11: Determined to survive, stay alive Episode 12: Imperturbable Episode 13: Almost complete Episode 14: Katsuki: You are going to beat this world

Season 3: The completion of us. Episode 15: Away with you Episode 16: Three months ago Episode 17: Disappear Episode 18: Thin ice Episode 19: Nothing else to lose Episode 20: My savior Episode 21: Shoto: Everything you would be will be gone

Season 4: The torture realization. Episode 22: Trouble Episode 23: For however long that'll be Episode 24: The fallen city Episode 25: Stay who you are Episode 26: Here with you Episode 27: All together Episode 28: F/n: A soul yet to be mourn

Season 5: The dawn to you. Episode 29: Back on road Episode 30: Lost Episode 31: Safe in your arms Episode 32: And so it begins Episode 33: At stake Episode 34: To be forgiven Episode 35: Familiar face

Season 6: The journey to you. Episode 36: Solace Episode 37: A stab through my ticker Episode 38: Never to easy Episode 39: To good for death Episode 40: Dreams of my hateful memories Episode 41: A stroke of luck Episode 42: Be aware Episode 43: Bait Episode 44: A thump in my heart Episode 45: Belong to me Episode 46: One step closer (Towards you)

Season 7: The ache in my heart. Episode 47: Sorston Episode 48: Bitter tenderness Episode 49: Here to stay Episode 50: The start Episode 51: Powder Episode 52: Good morning and goodbye Episode 53: For they may be my last Episode 54: An end to sorrow, grief & regret Episode 55: Even when I'm sleeping Episode 56: Reporting to duty Episode 67: I dream of you like I'm afraid tomorrow will be the last I see you

Season 8: The beauty of choice. Episode 58: Not who you were Episode 59: Just you and me Episode 60: The Plaza Episode 61: The other side Episode 62: To be ready Episode 63: You're here Episode 64: So long, my dear Episode 65: Discard me Episode 66: Secrets you'll soon share Episode 67: I wish you nothing but the best Episode 68: For as long as I live Episode 69: Goodness and kindness can't survive, at least not in the world I dreamed of

Season 9: The missing. Episode 70: I'll see you in a while Episode 71: So wait for me Episode 72: Hushed secrets

To be continued...

Playlist!

Space junk - Wang Chung Wolf - First Aid Kit Into The Black - Chromatics My Life In Rewind Run Boy Run - Woodkid Bad Before Good - Day One You're so Cool - Jonathon Bree So Bored - Gorgeous Bully Operations - Duster Civilian - Wye Oak Can't Stop - Red Hot Chili Peppers Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns N' Roses Skyfall - Adele Up the wolves - The Mountains Goats Be Gone Dull Cage - Kiev Into Dust - Mazzy Star Tomorrow Is a Long Time - Bob Dylan Poison Tree - Grouper Rhymes Of An Hour - Mazzy Star You Are The Wilderness - Voxhaul Broadcast Running - Delta Spirit People, Turn Around - Delta Spirit The Lion's Roar - First Aid Kit Pain - Boy Harsher Setup - Favored Nations This Old Death - Ben Nichols Revolution - Red Shahan Mr. Splitfoot - Paris Motel The Man Who Sold The World - Nirvana Beautiful Mess - Balian The Day The World Went Away - Nine Inch Nails Empty Words - Bowery Electric No Longer Making Time - Slowdive Hush - Trills Struggling Man - Emily Kinney The Last Pale Light In the West - Ben Nichols Blackbird Song - Lee Dewyze Step Away From the Cliff - Blue-Eyed Son Take Care (To Comb Your Hair) - Ty Segall Paradise - Silverberg No Peace At All - Aldous Harding Glad I Had a Friend - Galt MacDermot Machine Gun - Portishead Shadows of Planes - Duster Save Us from Ourselves - Digital Daggers Salt in the Wound - Delta Spirit I'm No Heroine - Emily Wells It's All Right - Sam Cooke To Build A Home - The Cinematic 6 Underground - Sneaker Pimps Edge Of The World- Dayshell Bye Bye Bye - School of Seven Bells You Are Not Alone - Mavis Staples Welcome - Harmonia & Eno '76 Hope We Can Again - Nine Inch Nails outside - Oneheart sleepless - Odyzon Arsonist's Lullabye - Hozier It's All Over - Johnny Cash The Stars Just Blink for Us - Say Hi Love Will Tear Us Apart - Joy Division Knockin' On Heaven's Door - Guns N' Roses Runnin' Down A Dream - Tom Petty Fly Like An Eagle - Steve Miller Band Alesund - Sun Kil Moon Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd Wicked Game - Chris Isaak 1908 - Repulsive Rule of Rose OST - Playing Airship I Shall Cross This River - The Black Atlantic Easy Way Out - Low Roar Don Abandons Alice - John Murphy Wherever You Are - Ulrich Schnauss Waitin' Around to Die - Townes Van Zandt Hope Prevails - Jesper Kyd Take Me Home - Lazyroom

Book one: Welcome To The New World Book two: To The One You Left Behind

taglist: @mikeyswifie @k0z3me @sky-angel101 @stevenknightmarc @nahwajinswhore @mn-0p @a-helen113 @azrral @mary-jinx @chixkadee @flowers-4-you @im-the-groot

[yuujispinkhair]

To the end (Chapter 5)

The end of the world as you knew it began with the virus spreading in your dorm. Six months later, you are once again on the run. By your side is Sukuna, the bad boy of your camp, the most unlikely companion you expected. But maybe this is exactly as it should be because sometimes hope comes in the form of a smug smirk and a tattooed pair of sword-yielding arms.

Masterpost ++ Chapter 1 ++ Chapter 2 ++ Chapter 3 ++ Chapter 4

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Zombie Apocalypse AU, horror, smut and some fluff Playlist: Zombie Apocalypse Word Count: 5k Warnings: 18+, lots of angst in this chapter, side character's death, violence, gore, angst, smut, cumshot, cum-eating, squirting, rough sex, zombies, fighting, knives, blood, mentions of several side characters' deaths, alcohol, cigarettes, suicidal thoughts. This AU is based on The Walking Dead, so imagine a world like this. It's cruel and hopeless at times, but there is also a love story :) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You find Yuuji the next day.

You and Sukuna leave the forest in a different direction this time. It's a lovely day. The air is a bit crisp, but the morning sun is shining down on you, offering warmth and putting you in a good mood. It almost feels like before the virus.

You are strolling over a meadow, grinning to yourself as you think about your little party last night and admiring the ripple of the firm muscles on Sukuna's back, when he suddenly points to the right.

"There is something over there. Let's check it out, brat. Looks like someone was there, maybe the remains of a camp!"

You can make it out too. There is a small hill in the distance, and at its top is something, a wooden structure or something like that. Definitely something man-made. Maybe this is what you have been searching for! Maybe Yuuji was here, and you will find a message or a hint in which direction he went.

You smile at Sukuna, seeing the determined and hopeful glint in his eyes. You almost have to run to keep up with him in his hurry to get there. Hope fills you. Maybe your search will be over soon, and you can find Yuuji and move on from the hut and look for a better place to stay.

But the closer you get to the hill, the more you can make out the shape at its top, and what you see makes your heart sink. Instead of hope, you are suddenly filled with dread.

The structure on that hill is not a former camp.

It's a gravesite.

You draw in a sharp breath at the exact moment as Sukuna starts running.

Your heart is hammering loudly in your ears as you follow him quickly. You break into a run too, eyes fixed on the hilltop, and every step closer to your destination fills you with a greater sense of foreboding.

You reach the top of the hill a few steps behind Sukuna, taking in the scene before you: You were right. This is a makeshift graveyard. Your stomach clenches painfully.

There are three fresh graves. The soil is still loose and a bit moist. Each grave is adorned by a twig rammed into the ground. A twig with a piece of cloth attached to it, on which someone left a scribbled message. Probably the names of the ones buried here, or at least a last farewell to them, if their names weren't known. Someone was kind enough to bury them here, to give them at least a little bit of honor and normalcy in this world, which ripped all of that from you. You hold your breath as you try to decipher the words on the grave on the left, but then you hear a sharp intake of breath, and your eyes snap to Sukuna's tall figure. He looks pale. His eyes are wide open, fixed on the grave in the middle. Dread washes over you at the expression in those pretty maroon eyes. You think you have never seen Sukuna look so scared. You force yourself to tear your gaze away from Sukuna's face and instead turn your head to look at what he has spotted. And you see something that you know will make Sukuna's whole world collapse. It's a necklace. An all too familiar golden tiger charm dangling from a black leather band. It's slung over the twig adorned to the grave in the middle. You feel sick. What is Yuuji's necklace doing here? Your mind tries to come up with explanations. Maybe he left it here as a kind of road sign? A message for Sukuna where to find him? But you know how stupid those thoughts are. How childish. There is only one logical explanation. Instinctively you lift your hand, reaching out to the boy in front of you, overcome with the urge to protect him.

"Sukuna..."

But he is already striding over to the grave before your fingertips can touch him. The hand you had lifted sinks down again uselessly.

Everything seems to play in slow motion as you watch horrified, how Sukuna drops to his knees next to the grave with the necklace and starts clawing desperately at the ground, digging up the grave with his bare hands.

The air around you is heavy with imminent tragedy. The inescapability of it all weighs heavily on you, making it hard to move.

Death awaits you on this hill. Not your own and not Sukuna's, but a death that will turn the whole little world, the two of you constructed over the last weeks, upside down.

And Sukuna knows it too. You can see it in the desperate way he rams his long fingers into the ground, making the dark soil fly everywhere in his haste to find the confirmation of what he fears the most.

He wished to find his brother. And fate seems to have granted him that wish but in the cruelest and most twisted way possible.

You feel like an intruder. This is a scene too personal to witness. The desperation in Sukuna's movements, the raw pain and fear in his eyes. You shouldn't be here. You know deep down that you shouldn't see Sukuna like this. You shouldn't see this strong guy, who usually seems so invincible, meet his ultimate adversary. You shouldn't see his strong shoulders shake. You shouldn't hear his harsh panicky breaths.

Maybe you should turn around and give Sukuna some privacy. You know he doesn't like to be vulnerable in front of others. This proud boy who has constructed his tough attitude so well, always wearing a mask of arrogance and mockery.

You should leave him alone.

But you can't do it. It's wrong! How could you turn your back when he so obviously needs you? When, for once, Sukuna is the one who is breaking down, and not you.

Without noticing it, you have already begun to walk. Your feet carry you to the grave, and you fall to your knees beside Sukuna.

His gaze swipes over you hastily but is gone as fast as it came, and his maroon eyes are fixed on the soil in front of him again. No words are exchanged. No words could fit this moment. What could you even say? And so you stay silent and instead do the thing you can do. You reach out and push your hands into the fresh soil, helping Sukuna dig up the grave, which he thinks will contain his other half.

It only takes a few seconds more, and then you see it: A strand of pastel-pink-colored hair.

Everything comes to a stop.

Before the virus, you always associated pink with light-hearted and sweet things. Cotton candy at a fair, strawberry milkshakes shared with a lover or friend, fuzzy pink blankets wrapped around you during movie marathons, pink candy, and pink glittery lipgloss that tasted like cherries and which you liked to wear to parties. After the virus, all those things were gone. The world seemed stripped of its colors. Everything was grey when you drowned in fear and sadness. Until Sukuna saved your life the night the attack on the camp happened. And suddenly, there was color again. The pink hair of the man who became your companion and your light in this dark world. And so pink became hope. Pink became safety, a feeling of home. Because pink was firmly associated with Sukuna for you.

But today, pink means something different. Today pink means death and the loss of all hope. Today pink comes in the form of pink hair stained with brown soil and dark red dried blood.

Your hands hover in midair as you stare helplessly at the scene unfolding in front of you. Like watching a movie where everything suddenly goes to hell, and all you can do is watch in utterly horrified fascination.

Sukuna's eyes are wide open in shock as his large hands brush even more soil away in sudden, desperate movements. More pink hair is revealed, then a tan forehead and a jagged scar next to a black eyebrow.

You feel numb as you watch. You know this face. Already know who this is before the soil reveals all of him. It's the same face you have been looking at every waking hour for weeks. It's the same face you have grown to like so much. It's the same face as the one of the boy who is now your whole world. Only this one lacks the black tattoos his twin brother has inked into his skin.

Sukuna's hands start to shake as he wipes away the last layer of soil, and beneath it, his twin brother's lifeless face comes into full view.

Yuuji looks pretty even in death. His handsome face is unmarred, apart from the typical knife wound on his temple that will prevent him from rising from his grave as a zombie. Apart from that, he looks peaceful. Only his old scars are there, one on the corners of his lips and one on his eyebrow. Caused by a stupid accident he had as a kid when he and his twin brother tried to do a stunt on a skateboard that went wrong.

Your lips twist in a pained expression as you recall Sukuna telling you about this only last night.

Whoever buried Yuuji made sure to close his eyelids. His long black lashes rest peacefully on his tan cheeks as if he is just asleep. You still remember his eyes very clearly. They had a slightly different shade from Sukuna's. Honey brown, almost golden in the sunlight. Yuuji always had very warm eyes, full of kindness and joy, even in a dark world like this. But you know the eyes beneath those eyelids are dead and cold now. There is no warmth in them anymore.

Your vision blurs as tears start to run down your cheeks. Your fingers feel stiff, and your feet tingle, the telltale signs of a starting panic attack. Guilt washes over you. You inwardly slap yourself.

You have no right to break down! This isn't your tragedy!

Sukuna. Sukuna is the one who...

You can't finish your thought. It gets interrupted by a strangled sob escaping Sukuna's lips. A sound that is so raw and full of pain that it feels like a stab to your heart.

You watch dazedly as Sukuna leans down and claws at more soil, scattering the dark mud everywhere. Some hits your face, but you cannot bring yourself to wipe it away. You can't move at all. You watch in horror as the boy you have grown to like so much during the last weeks is digging up his twin's dead body.

You shake with silent sobs as you watch Sukuna grab his brother's lifeless shoulders and drag Yuuji out of his grave and into his arms.

It's a horrible picture. Sukuna is sitting on the soil-stained grass, clutching his dead twin to his chest, holding him tightly, and rocking him from side to side as if Yuuji is still six years old and alive, and Sukuna is comforting him after a nightmare.

You can now see the cause of Yuuji's death. Several bite marks on his muscular forearms. He probably got bitten while fighting a horde of zombies. Chunks of flesh have been ripped from those formerly strong and comforting arms.

The arms that reassured so many people in your former camp. An encouraging clap on the shoulder here, a tight hug there. Yuuji had always been there for everyone else, showing compassion and kindness. And strength. He had been, next to his brother, the best fighter you have ever met, slaying zombies with the baseball bat he formerly used as the star player of his baseball team back in college.

You can see that he died a hero. He died protecting others.

But that doesn't make things more bearable, not for you and not for Sukuna.

Sukuna's face is buried in his brother's hair, hiding his eyes from your gaze. But you can still see how his tattoed jaw clenches tightly, trying so hard not to cry or scream.

Just yesterday, you and Sukuna were laughing and drinking, and Sukuna told you so much about the twins' earlier life. You were so enamored seeing how his expression had turned so soft when talking about his little brother. The hut had been filled with the love Sukuna had for Yuuji. It had almost been a tangible thing at that moment.

The Itadori twins had always counted on each other. They had lost their parents at a young age and experienced loss and tragedy, but they had always known they would always have each other.

But now, all Sukuna has left is holding his twin's lifeless body in his arms, not even able to say goodbye to him.

Your heart hurts so much you think you might collapse from it. You are crying for Yuuji, the kind and selfless hero. But even more so for Sukuna. The one who is left behind. The boy who lost his other half. The boy who lost the person who had always had his back when everyone else made him feel like he was a disaster.

You can't hold back any longer and lift your hand to gently touch the back of Sukuna's hand that's tangled in Yuuji's hair.

"S...Sukuna, I'm..."

He yanks his hand away from you as if your touch burned him.

"Don't touch me!"

Sukuna's voice is harsh, brutal, and too loud in this otherwise completely silent world. His teeth are bared, and his pupils are blown wide. His face is contorted in helpless anger and pain.

You can't help but be reminded of a wounded animal that lashes out at anyone who wants to approach it.

You let your hand sink to your side but refuse to back away. Your gaze burns into Sukuna's, your voice surprisingly strong,

"Please let me help you."

"You cannot help! Stay away from us!"

You see his arms tightening around his dead brother's body, clinging to him desperately as if he fears you will take Yuuji away from him. He is irrational. He is out of his mind in his mourning.

Your heart aches. It aches for Sukuna, for Yuuji, for the twins who were supposed to stay together their whole lives. Tears are running down your cheeks in your helpless need to comfort Sukuna.

You try again, in a gentle voice, the way you would talk to a scared pet or a hurt child,

"Sukuna, I'm so sorry...please tell me what I can do to help you."

When his eyes meet yours again, they are hard,

"Leave. Go back to the hut."

"But I.."

"I have to do something, and I am doing it alone."

His stare is unrelenting, almost black from how big his pupils are, glittering wetly from the unshed tears he is holding back with all his strength.

Everything in you screams to throw your arms around him and hug him, offering him physical and emotional comfort. But the look in his eyes stops you. Because in his eyes you can see the boy he told you about. The one who ran away to get his face tattoed just to show his grandpa he could do whatever he wanted. The rebel, the troublemaker, the one who didn't mind ruining himself just to prove he was the one in control over his life.

You don't dare touch him. You are scared. Not of him. But for him. You are scared of what Sukuna might do if you deny him his desperate wish for solitude. Would he run away? Carrying his dead brother while running blindly towards his death just to escape your prying eyes? Just to hide the pain he feels.

And so you gulp hard and take a step back.

"Ok, I will go back to the hut...but...please stay safe, Sukuna, ok? Please promise me you will come back."

Something flickers in his eyes, and his jaw clenches before he looks away. His lips are trembling the slightest bit, and his voice is a mere whisper, thick with suppressed emotion,

"Just go, brat. Just fucking do what I tell you."

"Not before you promise me to come back."

Your fingernails are digging painfully into your palms from how much you clench your fists. You are shaking, full of grief for the one Itadori twin and worry for the other. This could be the moment that Sukuna snaps, you know that. But you just can't bring yourself to move before hearing reassurance from him. Just a little bit. Just a little hope that things can be ok again after all this.

Your eyes are wide, pulse racing as you stare Sukuna down. Finally, he growls and jerks his head,

"Yes, I will come back, brat. Now go!"

The last part is a heated, angry spat. But you know that, in reality, it's a desperate plea.

He is begging you to leave before he breaks down. Begging you to grant him the privacy he needs to mourn his brother.

You want to give him that, but it doesn't make things easier. You practically have to force yourself to turn around and walk away. Every step makes your heart ache more, and you shake with sobs the whole way back to the hut.

The day passes and turns into night.

No sign of Sukuna.

You force yourself to go to bed but lie awake for hours. Your heart is pounding heavily in your chest. There's a knot in your stomach from how tense you are. Your mind won't stop racing. You feel sick with worry, and regret begins to creep into your thoughts.

You shouldn't have left Sukuna alone. You shouldn't have let him convince you to leave without him. You should have said no, should have stayed by his side. You should have insisted on helping him do whatever he planned.

Fear has its cruel hold on you once again. Your mind haunts you with horrible pictures: Sukuna getting attacked by zombies or other survivors. Sukuna finding his death tonight because he is distraught and distracted. Sukuna breathing his last breath as his body sinks to the ground next to the lifeless body of his twin.

You squeeze your eyes shut as if the motion can prevent you from seeing the imaginary pictures in your mind.

Where is Sukuna? Shouldn't he have already been back? Is he out there injured? Or dead? Or did he decide to move on without you? You angrily wipe away some fresh tears, chiding yourself for those traitorous thoughts. No, he wouldn't do that! Sukuna said the two of you are in this together. He will come back!

If he doesn't die, at least. Your mind provides unhelpfully, sending you right back to the beginning of your endless cycle of worrying.

You feel anxious and restless. Your fingernails are already bitten down as far as possible, and your arms tremble when you wrap them around yourself.

You want to go out there and look for Sukuna. Part of you feels the urge to jump out of bed and run back to that hill. But what good would it do? Sukuna most likely isn't even there anymore. And the chance to find him in the middle of the night in these woods is next to nothing. You would probably just run into some zombie horde and get yourself killed.

And what if Sukuna comes back and finds you gone? You can't risk that. You have to stay here and wait, hoping he will come back.

Hours pass. Hours that feel like days. Every small noise makes you jump. Every muscle in your body is taut as a bowstring.

And then you hear the jingle of the tin cans of your makeshift alarm system. You gasp, your body tensing up with fear and a glimmer of hope at the same time. You don't dare breathe as you strain your ears for more sounds, trying to determine whether the sound means danger or not.

Your hand finds the knife hidden under the pillow and wraps tightly around its hilt.

But then relief washes over you when the jingle of the tin cans is followed by three rhythmic knocks. Your sign. Sukuna is back!

Tears of relief run down your face as you let go of the knife and instead hug the small pillow to yourself.

The door opens with a soft creaking sound. You hear the dull thud of army boots getting kicked off and the rustling of clothes getting taken off and discarded on the floor. And then light footsteps whisper over the wooden floor.

Finally, the mattress dips as Sukuna's tall and heavy figure joins you on the small bed.

He smells of sweat and smoke when his tall, firm body presses against your back.

"I'm back."

Your heart twists at how hollow Sukuna's voice sounds. But the pain gets drowned out by the relief you feel that he is back. He is alive!

"I'm glad you are safe. Are you.."

You stop, knowing how stupid it is to ask if he is ok. Of course, he isn't. What do you say in a moment like this? You don't want to scare him away again.

But Sukuna offers you an explanation anyways.

"I burned his body and waited until I could collect his remains. Maybe I can put his ashes into our family grave one day if I ever make it back home."

His words are spoken in a matter-of-factly tone. But you can hear how strained his low voice sounds. You can hear how much pain he feels. It makes new tears well up in your eyes.

To imagine him setting the body of his twin on fire and waiting there by his side until he could collect his ashes is too horrible. What must he have felt? All alone with his thoughts, drowned in his grief.

"I am so sorry. I should have stayed with you, Sukuna. I could have helped you. You...you didn't have to go through this alone. I... I am so sorry for leaving. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, I had to do that on my own...I...Yuuji... It had to be only my little brother and me."

Before you can react, Sukuna adds in a rough voice,

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Ok, we don't have to talk. I'm here, though, if you ever change your mind."

You can feel Sukuna's breath on your neck, coming out in pained huffs. Your chest feels too tight when you think about him suffering all alone while he waited to collect his brother's ashes. And even now, he shuts himself away, locks all the pain inside him, unable to share it.

You know he won't talk to you. You cannot give him the comfort of reassuring words. But there is one thing you can give him.

You push your body against Sukuna's, pressing your back against his chest and your ass against his groin, offering him the comfort of your warm body. Offering him something to get lost in. To stop thinking and just let his primal needs take over.

And Sukuna takes the offer. Strong arms wrap around your waist, and large hands slip under your shirt, pushing the thin fabric up to expose your tits, cupping them and kneading them firmly. You gasp when his long fingers pinch your nipples roughly.

A familiar hardness is pressing against your ass. Your heart is racing. You went from fear and worry to arousal in mere minutes, but isn't that what you and Sukuna have been doing for weeks already? Fighting for your lives, not knowing if you will see the sun rise another day, trapped in this neverending circle of fear and death. But there is always one thing that makes you forget about the darkness. When your bodies collide in a passionate embrace, the apocalypse is nonexistent.

Sukuna's denial to talk is all too relatable, just like his desperate need to feel you, to drown himself in the comfort of sex. That sweet distraction from this cruel reality he always gives you so freely. And now he is the one in dire need, and you are the one who can help him.

And so you press your ass against his crotch, grinding it slowly against him until you feel his cock grow even harder against you.

Sukuna humps your backside, rubbing his growing bulge needily against you while his silky tongue licks hungrily over your neck, and his fingers continue to play with your tits. He isn't tender or careful, his touch is rough, almost painful, but you don't mind. This is what you can give him. This is what you can do. Give yourself to him to use in every way he needs.

It's you who pushes your panties down to give him easy access to your pussy, offering yourself to him, letting him feel your heat against his straining cock. And he takes the offer gratefully, groaning into your ear and pushing his boxer briefs down to free his aching cock.

He pushes it between your thighs, letting his thick hard length glide through your sensitive wet folds, making your hips buck when Sukuna's swollen cockhead catches on your clit. And the next roll of his hips brings his cock to where he needs it the most.

Sukuna growls against your neck when he pushes into your wet cunt, his arms tightening around you to pull you even closer to him until you are pressed tightly to his tall, muscular body with no space left between the two of you.

Sukuna snaps his hips furiously, fucking you open around his thick cock with rough deep thrusts.

It astounds you how intimate this feels, how loving somehow despite the savageness with which Sukuna takes you. You are so close to him, trapped in his almost violent embrace, his teeth on your skin, his cock bullying into you with those brutal snaps of his hips.

You can't move, and Sukuna's grip on you is almost painful, but that's ok. You can feel his desperation to fuck, to forget his pain, his grief. He needs you tonight, and if this is how you can ease his pain, then you gladly provide it to him after all he has done for you.

You willingly let him use you. Let him fuck his sadness and anger into you. You reach behind yourself, finding his soft hair and grabbing it firmly as you let your head fall back and moan softly, encouraging Sukuna to take from you, telling him to fuck you as hard as he needs.

Sukuna grunts. His fingers dig into your skin, probably leaving bruises, but you don't mind. He picks up his pace, rutting desperately into you, fucking you almost brutally as low groans fall from his lips, only muffled because Sukuna's teeth close around your skin.

You feel something wet on your neck, gasping when you realize those are Sukuna's tears. Your lips tremble. Strong Sukuna, who was holding back all this time, forcing down his tears, hiding his emotions from you, is coming undone here in your bed. Crying silently against your naked skin while he fucks you hard.

You cry, too, tears streaming down your cheeks when your orgasm gets forced out of you after Sukuna's fat cockhead tortures your sweet spot unrelentingly over and over again. A surprised loud cry falls from your lips as your hand tugs firmly on Sukuna's hair, and you press yourself tightly against him, your pussy taking him even deeper as you shudder and twitch wildly around his thick cock.

Your shoulder is wet with his tears. They are running down your back and your arm, hot and wet. Sukuna's tight grip on you loosens. He pushes back, instantly making you miss the feeling of his hot, sweaty body pressing against you.

He sobs when he has to pull out of your twitching pussy. It's a sound so untypical for him, so scary and heartbreaking coming from this otherwise so controlled and smug man. It makes your heart twist. You want to take his pain away from him. You want to take care of him and be strong for him, if only just for one night.

Before he can do anything else, you turn around in his embrace and wrap a hand around his straining cock and pump him slowly, stroking him all the way from his thick base to the swollen head.

A gasp escapes Sukuna's lips, and a firm hand lands on the back of your head, pulling you closer to him until your face is buried in his naked chest, feeling the taut muscles of his pecs under your cheek.

You turn your face and attach your lips to his warm skin, kissing it tenderly, showering him with hundreds of small kisses while your tears smear over his chest, making his skin taste salty when your tongue glides over it.

You love him, you realize at that moment.

You love Sukuna. You love this mess of a boy who is so lost and such a tragedy. You love him. He is your light in the dark, and you want to be his too.

You desperately want to love him and want to make him feel whole again. Or maybe not whole, because you doubt he can ever be whole again after losing his twin. But maybe you can patch up this wound and help him live with the scar.

And so you kiss Sukuna's muscular chest with all the love you have in you while giving him a slow hand job. Your lips brush over a leather band, and you realize Sukuna must be wearing Yuuji's necklace. It makes your touches become even more gentle. Your lips leave tender kisses anywhere they can reach while your hand strokes Sukuna's thick cock lovingly until he pulses his hot seed over your hand.

You cradle him in your arms afterward, refusing to let him get up. Instead, you pull him to you, hugging him tightly and letting him rest his face on your naked chest. He doesn't even resist, just wraps his strong arms around you and buries his face between your breasts.

Not a single sound escapes Sukuna's lips, but you can feel his hot tears on your tits. You don't say anything, either. You just hold him and pet his soft pink hair while he silently cries himself to sleep in your arms.

Your mind is still reeling with too many thoughts to be able to join him in sleep, but you feel some relief, knowing that Sukuna doesn't have to endure this pain alone. He has you. You might not be very strong or a good fighter, but you can do this. You can offer him comfort and be his safe space. You can be the one he trusts enough to let his guard down. You can hold him, you can kiss him. You can love him.

I AM SO SORRY!!! I feel so bad for doing this to Yuuji and Sukuna!!! But it HAD to be this way. Ngl it was breaking my heart when I saw all your comments saying that you hope for a reunion of the twins, while I knew all the time that the reunion wouldn't be the way you wanted it. I knew pretty soon that Yuuji would die in this AU. I thought of the thing that would break Sukuna the most, and I knew it had to be his brother's death.

I once saw a post that said you should take your strong, invincible character and make them encounter their worst fear. I thought it was very fitting for a Zombie Apocalypse AU, and so I did it. I already made Sukuna's need to protect his little brother an important part of the Yakuza AU, and I wanted to include it here too, and go a step further and show the worst-case scenario.

It hurt me so much to write this chapter, trust me. I was crying so much, and I was too depressed to work on it for a while because I knew I would cry every time I opened the chapter or listened to the accompanying songs. But I believe that it had to be done. I needed Sukuna to break down and reader to catch him. I want a love story that shows that they both can save the other. And it doesn't matter that reader isn't a good fighter. She can still save Sukuna with her love.

Okkk, now that I made this apology, I want to thank everyone who is still reading this AU even after the long break!! It means a lot to me! The nice comments really helped me continue working on this story.

Please let me know what you think about this chapter. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

Chapter 6