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Betrayal
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Possessive LGBTQ+ Web Novels & Apocalypse Stories

Explore LGBTQ+ novels and web novels featuring Possessive with Apocalypse, engaging stories, and immersive reading. Browse popular stories online and find your next read.
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Apocalypse: My Ex Is The Key To My Survival. - LGBTQ+ novels & stories
Divine
The world ended once, and Liam Bennett died paying the price for trusting the wrong people. Now, he has been given a second chance, returning to life before the apocalypse begins. With memories of the coming disaster, Liam knows he has little time to prepare. He needs money, supplies, and most importantly, someone strong enough to protect him when the world falls apart. There is only one person he truly trusts: Jack Sullivan, his handsome, cold-hearted ex-boyfriend, whom he hurt two years ago. Determined to survive this time, Liam shamelessly chases Jack again, hoping to win back his heart and secure his own safety. But Jack hasn't forgotten their painful breakup, and rebuilding their broken relationship won't be easy. As the apocalypse draws closer, danger lurks around every corner, and survival becomes a daily struggle. Liam must face the consequences of his past while discovering whether the man he once abandoned will become his greatest strength or his deepest regret. When the world falls apart, can Liam win back his ex's heart before it's too late?
310
Crimson Bloomed: Ascend - LGBTQ+ novels & stories
Natzero
Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.
1.9K
Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore - LGBTQ+ novels & stories
Natzero
Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.
2.0K

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