#absolutely having veron say don't ask

[vaya-writes]

Infernal Assistance (Option Four) - 2

You’ve been struggling to survive in a zombie apocalypse. Things are looking really bad before a demon swoops in to help. But that demon is an incubus. And he’s in need of help too.

-

Reader (GNC pronouns, AFAB, asexual spectrum) x incubus (cis male). Situationship. Allies to lovers. Zombie apocalypse AU. Banner by saradika-graphics. Wordcount: 2300.

Content Warnings: apocalypse setting, discussion and mild depiction of malnourishment, light discussion of sex, off screen implied violence and gore.

Masterlist - A03 - Previous

You might have felt self conscious inviting a strange demon into your cramped little apartment, if you weren’t so hungry. 

Gesturing him in behind you, you don’t even spare him a glance as you make a beeline to your pantry. There’s an open packet of crackers inside, a tupperware container of oats, and four small tins of assorted vegetables left.  

You don’t touch the crackers. Even stale, they can be eaten. You decide on a tin of beans today. If the fridge still worked you could ration out perhaps six meals from the tin (a bite and a half, three times a day, for two days). But you don’t want to get food poisoning on top of everything. So you’d consume the whole tin over the course of twenty four hours. Today’s lunch and dinner, and tomorrow’s breakfast. Three full bites per meal. Approximately.  

Your hands shake as you remove the pull-lid from the tin. You’re careful not to spill a drop of bean juice, bringing the rim to your lips and drinking. Your stomach clenches at the flavour and you take your time eating. You don’t know how long somebody has to forgo eating before reintroduction of foods becomes difficult. 

You make sure to chew each bean, even as you grimace at the flavour; they’re not something you enjoy eating by themselves. And when a third of the food is gone, you pull out your makeshift foil lid and fasten it over the tin. You put the food back in the pantry. 

“Food’s scarce for you too, huh?” Your guest speaks. 

You don’t reply for a minute. Your hands are still shaking. You’d like to go and lie down. To sleep off the rest of this awful day. But there’s still an important conversation to be had. So you take a deep breath and turn to face the demon. 

“Are you going to stay?” 

The demon stills for a moment. Perhaps surprised by your bluntness. Before relaxing. Gesturing to the couch.  

You sit, your knees drawn up to create a barrier between you and the demon when he perches on the other end of the couch. He’s massive, and takes up most of the available space. 

“You’ll let me feed on you?” 

You’ve already come to terms with that. If the incubus stays, you’ll have to keep him fed. But there’s no point in keeping him around just to watch you starve. He’ll need to earn his keep. And today, you negotiate how. 

“If you help me in turn.” 

He seems to sense your seriousness, and pivots to properly face you. “What do you need?” 

“For starters? Protection. From zombies. Thieves. Any other external threats.” 

He nods. “Simple enough. What else?” 

“I’ll need supplies. Food. Water. Potentially medicine. I’m willing to scavenge, but not alone.” 

Something in his face twitches. An expression masked. But he nods again. “I can play bodyguard. That all?” 

You consider your plan for the future. What you would have done, ideally, if you were braver. If there were less zombies in your building. If you were desperate. Or reckless.  

“Last request. I want you to head to ground floor and pick up the keys to the other apartments. A master key if you can find one. And then I want help clearing the zombies from them.” 

The demon crosses his arms. There’s that twitch in his face again, before he bites his lip. “This is a big building.” 

“And I’d like to clear it. One floor at a time. It’ll be the safest way to scavenge too.” 

“The husks might come back upstairs when we rest.” 

“We’ll build barricades.” 

He narrows his eyes. “You’ve thought this through.” 

“I’ve had little else to do.” 

There’s silence for a moment. You think he’s considering. But you keep talking. “Originally, I would have had to do this to open apartments only. But if they’re open, it’s probably for a bad reason. I doubt they’d be safe. If you get those keys for me, I can be more thorough, we won’t have to travel as far, I could create safe rooms on multiple floors... There’s a lot of advantages to bringing the whole building under our control.” 

He tilts his head. “You were planning to do this all along?” 

“No. Maybe. There was an even spread before. A zombie or two on each floor. It seemed more doable.” 

“Before you went and caused a horde.” 

You scowl. “I did no such thing. Somebody else entered the stairwell that day. Started screaming their head off.” 

He stares. It makes you a little uncomfortable the way he examines you, seemingly mulling over your request. Before finally, he shrugs. 

“I’ll help. But I won’t be of any use if I’m weak. We should discuss payment.” 

You can appreciate his bluntness. Even if the topic makes you uncomfortable.  

“I assume you mean sex.” 

“Or sexual acts, yes.” 

It’s hard to meet his gaze. You stare at his coat instead. “How often do you need to..?” 

His hesitation is slight, but you do notice it. 

“Once every day.” 

You try not to frown. Glance at his face. “I don’t know much about this sort of thing, but is that safe?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’ll be taking my energy, right? I’m already malnourished. Is it medically safe for you to feed on me that often?” 

His hesitation is more prominent this time. He lets out a sigh. “You’re right, it’s not ideal.” 

You don’t know how to reply to that. Just wait for him to continue. 

“I’ll be careful not to take much. We can play it by ear. Skip a day every now and then, if you need one.” 

You nod. Things are making sense, but you still have questions. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

“What would you like to do,” his reply is almost instantaneous, a hint of suggestiveness slipping into his tone. 

You try not to wince, but he spots your reaction.  

“What?” 

You shake your head. You don’t want to discuss your sexual preferences with a stranger right now. “Can we get into that later? I just want to know what’s expected. Or needed. I don’t mean to... insult you, I guess, but what is the minimum?” 

He stares for another moment. An indecipherable expression on his face while he, you assume, tries to read you.  

He tilts his head and shrugs, that suggestiveness gone. “I feed on your pleasure. If I were healthy and well fed, the absolute minimum would be sitting in the room next to you while you wank. But to start with, I’m going to need a lot more than that. You’re not the only one who’s malnourished.” 

“Do I need to get off?” 

Another long stare. It’s an effort to not feel judged, but he’s entirely professional when he replies.  

“Is that something you struggle with?” 

You really don’t want to have this conversation with a stranger. But if you’re going to be living with him, relying on him... you should probably be honest. Secrets and dishonesty don’t make for a firm foundation in a relationship.  

Not to mention, he’ll probably notice when you struggle. There’s no point in hiding it. 

But you can’t meet his eyes when you nod. 

He sighs. 

At the noise you can’t help but stiffen. Your jaw locks and you stare intently at a spot on the ground. 

This is usually a point of contention in any sexual relationship you have. That and your inconsistent sex drive. You wouldn’t be surprised if the demon were exasperated. Angry.  If his next words invalidate you, or if he’s going to act like being an incubus will magically fix your sexual woes.  

“What’s your name, pet?” 

You’re taken aback at the gentleness to his tone. It takes a moment before you can find your voice and tell him. 

“Charmed. You can call me Veron.” He offers his hand to shake, brevity lifting the tension for a moment when you take it. 

But his smile soon disappears as he sits back and looks serious. Addresses you by your name, before, “I’ll take what you can give me. An orgasm is like a solid meal, but as you know, it’s possible to survive on scraps. It will just take longer to get me up to full strength.” 

You swallow. Nod again.  

“There anything else you think I should know?” 

You shrug. You’re feeling pretty done with this conversation. Eye contact is getting harder. Conjuring up full sentences feels monumental. “Maybe. Probably. Nothing that’s a deal breaker, I don’t think.” 

He offers another smile, uses a casual tone. “You don’t prefer women?” 

“Uh-” 

“No particular revulsion towards demons or monsters?” 

You shake your head. “No strong preference. To either point.” 

He smiles a little more cheerfully. “Great! We can go over limits and boundaries and wants later if you like. But for now, would you say we have a deal?” 

You take a breath. “Yeah.” 

His smile stretches wider, and he places his hand over his chest. “I’ll keep you safe, scavenge with you, and help you clear this building. In return, you’ll feed me once each day, unless it becomes medically unsafe for you to do so. Yes?” 

You shake his outstretched hand once more. “Yes." 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

- 

You give Veron a brief tour of the apartment. The bathroom. The open plan living area/kitchen/lounge.  You show him the reservoir in the bathtub and teach him your water usage rules. The water stopped running when the power was cut. Since then, you've had to dole out your reservoir using a measuring cup whenever you need to do hand washing, or your occasional sponge bath.  

You don’t know how the zombie virus is transmitted, so you’ve been hesitant to drink any of the tap water. Instead, you rely on your store-bought reserves. You’d been down to a single bottle when you’d set up catchment on the roof.  

Veron surprises and absolutely thrills you with his display of prestidigitation. A snap of his fingers and the blood and viscera coating him disappears. Another snap and your layers of sweat and dust and grime vanish into the ether.  

Knowing that he’s capable of basic magic and needs only energy to fuel it is a weight off your mind. If anything, it’s more motivation to keep the demon fed. 

You offer him the couch as a bed. You don’t actually know if demons need to sleep. Some do – dreamers for instance. But aside from the sex stuff, you’ve no clue about the physiology of concubi.  

Lastly you take down the evacuation poster. Show him the map of the building. There are some amenities on the first floor, along with a maintenance room. The remaining six are dedicated to housing. One stairwell snakes up the side of the building, an elevator shaft sits at the other end, and hanging down the outside is a rickety and broken fire escape. 

You don’t know if the spare keys are kept on site, but if you’re lucky there might be copies somewhere. Checking the pockets of the local dead might be another option to find some. 

Veron process this information, and with a glance towards the window stands.  

“Okay. Today I’ll search the first floor. And make sure none of the husks in the stairwell will get back up.” 

You don’t want to dwell on what he means by that. You hadn’t realised that there were surviving zombies on the stairs. But you walk him to the door and wish him luck regardless. And then you’re left alone. 

- 

The sun has dipped well beyond the horizon when Veron returns. It’s dark and you have to light a candle before you open the door. He’s covered in sweat and blood, looking quite disgruntled; face set in a scowl.  

“You alright?” 

“Fine,” he grumbles, snapping away any blood splatter before stepping into your apartment. 

His posture is tense, and his jaw is set. It's obvious he’s in a bad mood. 

“Did something happen?” 

He reaches into his coat and pulls out a handful of keys, dropping them onto the counter with a sneered irreverence. “These were a pain to collect.” 

“Oh?” 

He shakes his head. “Don’t ask. I’ll just get mad.” 

You’re not one hundred percent, but you’re pretty sure he’s not directly mad at you. It’s a relief, and you’re able to crack a smile. “Got it. Thanks for this.” 

He waves the comment off, before rolling his shoulders. Gradually losing some of his stiffness. “What now?” 

You hold up your candle. “I’d like to save these for emergencies. And it’s too dark for me to see. So, I’m going to turn in for the night. I’ve made the couch up for you. I don’t know if you sleep or whatever but...” you trail off.  

He glances at the couch, at the blanket and cushions you’ve set out, and nods. “Sure. I’ll just... be here then. Until tomorrow.” 

You conjure up a polite smile. “Until tomorrow.”  

You put the candle out before heading to your room. Briefly wonder if you should lock your door before doing so. Sure, he could probably break it down if really wanted. But it puts your mind at ease.  

You let out a groan as you sink into your bed. Your back fucking hurts. It’s so good to be on a mattress, using a pillow. Enough so that even with all the trepidation, all the anxiety circling your thoughts, you’re soon out like a light. 

-

Next (to come)

[the-firebird69]

What he's saying makes sense and you fell for almost all the stuff just like Trump did I told you not to we had this brain surgery his grandpa did it and couldn't hold it because we're all nasty greedy pieces of s*** the proof is Olivia Paris she said we're all like this you can't do it and she can't do what oh s*** that so just asking it's like do what it came out later no they are so dramatically annoying it's like they're not even human it's terrible it's not even that you know this is this is what insanity is in the beginning he like threw the match society wanted to be the ruler until he wanted the people s*** down this road mess around with people and he did it because he's a jerk he figured out something this is what you like just this bombastic a****** that started all this b******* around and around hiding things ruining things to fix it and be the good guy when you want to be the bad guy it's like a mysterious chimp they do it when they're sick and he keeps saying it's cuz of the uranium but I don't think so partially if it wasn't resisting it went and bathe in it you know rule from absolute fear and that's what you can use to destroy them it's really like one step because it's human nature researched it and researched it and researched it and he found it these people are afraid as hell the people figure out the secret so secret start coming out it went all over people started killing them they cracked down and more people get angry now it's the whole world and they're just about to attack the blockade in these assholes are pretending their foreigners and the foreigners are like well you realize we're not there yet right I like you the first people going after and they're not answering cuz they're really smart and they're showing there as a white people that they are at the end and they're going to come in and they know what they sound like and what they look like and here they are again showing their white people I mean suicides okay I don't care if you kill yourself that's very vulgar and you should know your people are dying if you don't point it really just as crass as the idiots that started this veronic religion called Satanism or whatever you want new people are it's really satanism so I heard all stuff our son said and I said it's true and it's happening right now is very pertinent it's angry and upsetting I don't want to go over and over but here it is and it's very potent it's right there on TV it's amazing there's no place for them to hide these idiot b****** and this moronic Tommy favino has to hide or he's going to lose the big stuff and so do you guys are you going to die and he says wow that's stupid so they're offshore and they're threatening them to do it and they're peons and they can't stop what they're doing and they just unburied their City from Sand and the foreigners do stuff too to them just as Tommy f does and foreigners don't care they're better than sand and now it's not there so they're just about to attack no they're attacking now you can tell it's getting cooler and it's going to get a lot cooler tons of wind and huge ships are approaching 500 miles long the foreigners have 20 of them down here 30 up north and there are 800 million ships in the Atlantic and 700 million in the Pacific

So tell me if says he's going to March if they start approaching and we say the tunnels are blocked you should have checked and there is a huge Force to oppose you at the at the borders of Max as a foreigner is trying to invade you'll be destroying yourselves as an insult and we love it it can't get any Richard in a son says I am really not putting that much effort into it I'm putting a lot of effort into other things but that is something they're doing in their own it truly is Tommy f is the one who spurned it on it's an embarrassment it's vulgar and he's a criminal for real and he is a bastard child and he's a wayward son he is no longer accepted Mac said in the McDonald clan and that is a huge huge thing he's a person without a country and he's without a name and he said he'll use his own name and who cares hi my dad's name and that came from Grandpa Obama and it came from Grandma and you don't have a McDonald's name anymore so he's huffing and partying and saying

Thor Freya

you're not a Mac anyway at all I am and I'm destroying them because I'm winning and now they're saying you're not a Mac because of that you imbecile

Tommy f

and he finally got you to say it

Mac Daddy