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To Warm a Frozen Soul - Ult!RichtofenxReader One Shot

Reader is travelling with the Ultimis crew when they end up in Serbia (on the Call of the Dead map). You've always had a thing for the older German doctor, but choose to keep your mouth shut about it because he can be... well, erratic to say the least, but when his behavior gets weirder than normal things start to heat up. Apparently, sharing memories, even the capacity for feelings, with other versions of yourself across dimensions can get complicated (or so he tells you). What starts as you comforting him ends up with you getting dominated and railed. And does anyone actually care about the Golden Rod you're supposed to be looking for?

Notes: NSFW content, Call of the Dead Map (Call of Duty), Shameless Smut, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Some Humor, Fluff, Element 115 Induced Hallucinations, Richtofen Hivemind, Subspace, S&M, Flirting, Banter, Takeo keeps puking because it's canon

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The teleporter made your stomach lurch and you uncomfortably swallowed the excess drool that formed in your mouth. Takeo was making unpleasant gagging sounds–or at least you assumed Takeo was still the one next to you considering you couldn’t see anything. Either you had gone blind or the place you were in was pitch dark. The Japanese man made a retching noise and something splashed on the ground. Oh, fuck no… You leapt away in surprise, hitting a hard body with arms that reached out to grab you, holding you to a firm chest.

“Oh man, that's wet," Dempsey groaned from the other side of Takeo.

“Argh, I need vodka!" Nikolai yelled, banging on… a wall? Whatever metal surface he was near. Well if Takeo was puking next to you, Dempsey was on the other side of him, and Nikolai was over there…

“I knew you’d come running into mein arms eventually,” Richtofen said happily. You blushed, temporarily grateful for the darkness, and pushed him away.

“Where the hell are we and why can’t we see shit? What did you do?” You asked, getting some space from Richtofen and backing away from the noises of vomit until your back was pressed against the teleporter wall. Don’t… breathe… you willed yourself.

“I did nothing,” Richtofen whined. You could hear the shifting of his starched uniform as he moved around. “Where's the light switch? Oh. I think I found a lever. Perhaps this will turn on the light!”

“Whoah, ahhh! Let go! That's.... not... a... lever, Richtofen!’ Dempsey forced out through gritted teeth.

Richtofen giggled and you tried to stifle your laugh. You reached around, patting the wall until you found the door to the teleporter and feeling your way out by tapping your foot around. Eventually you found something that felt like a submarine or ship door frame and used the wheel to open it. The light it allowed in let you see the scene behind you and you covered your mouth with a hand, turning away. God the puddle of puke was huge… The men began trying to push it out of the teleporter with their boots quickly.

“Hi, Takeo, yeah… How you doing?” Richtofen said, starting with a fake smile that twisted into anger. “You see all the puke? That we're picking up? You're not saying thank you? Nothing? You know why? Because you're a little shit.”

“Okay, okay… Leave the poor man alone,” you scolded, grimacing. Zombie guts? Not ideal, but fine. Mud and blood? Alright, if you must. Vomit? That was where you drew the line. You moved to get further away from the smell.

"Ah, much better…” Richtofen said when Dempsey got Takeo to puke in a corner of the room instead of in the middle of the teleporter. The German inspected the smoking control panel. “Now I can see the problem! We must have gone too far in the future. Look, the teleporter is completely broken. Ach, the time circuits are damaged. We'll have to reboot the--"

"Wait, you took us here on purpose!?” Dempsey yelled from where he was patting Takeo’s back awkwardly. “Where are we?"

“An abandoned Group 935 Siberian outpost!” The doctor answered happily. “You stay with the puking one und the…” He gave a disapproving look at Nikolai who was chugging down a bottle of vodka. “...the soon to be puking one. I will go have a look around, ja?”

“(y/n), go keep an eye on him,” Dempsey ordered, glaring at Richtofen before his attention was pulled back to Takeo who was starting to retch again.

“Fine, the Fräulein can join me,” he marched forward confidently, expecting you to follow him. “Perhaps we will find a nice corner somewhere to finish what you started in the dark, ja?”

“In your dreams…” You muttered, but inwardly your stupid stomach fluttered with butterflies. Or maybe it was other unpleasant insects, considering the subject that was causing them. Lately, you’d caught yourself staring at the unconventional older man and laughing more often at his unusual antics. It was an annoying distraction from the mission and you mentally bug bombed the fuck out of your stomach to make it stop. It didn’t stop. You shook your head to pull your focus back to reality. “Okay, doctor, what are we looking for?”

Richtofen waited until you were out of earshot from the others to answer you. “I need to retrieve a very important device. It looks like a long…stiff…hard…golden rod... with fingers on the end. Aaaoohh, delightful!"

You blinked as he made sounds as if he’d just orgasmed. You should be used to it by now, but it turns your face red every time. The way he watched you with a satisfied smirk made you sure that was the reason he kept doing it around you. “Okay,” you sighed, already exasperated with him and your stupid feelings. “Why do you need the golden hand dildo?”

“Because time is running out! Ahaha!” He laughed maniacally before going deathly quiet, a rare air of seriousness surrounding him. “We have a teleporter that takes us through time und we still feel the weight of the ticking of the clock… No matter. Soon the vril generator will be MINE! Then there is only one more piece to collect and the world will be MINE!"

You were pretty sure none of that was actually directed to you. He often had conversations like that with himself. “Okay, sure… whatever you say, doctor. Let’s just get it quickly and get out of here before the zombies find us. You know, like they always do.”

You honestly could care less what the crazy German did. The world was fucked with zombies anyway and if he wanted to rule over a trash heap who the hell cared? You’d been travelling with them long enough to know they had your back in a gunfight and it was just as safe with them as out on your own–or at least that is what you kept telling yourself. You bit your lip as Richtofen adjusted his uniform, his gloves making a faint squeak noise as the leather stretched over his flexing knuckles. You bit your lip. Lately, you've been having some rather inappropriate dreams about how those gloves would feel on your body, around your throat…

“Well, you’re awfully distracted lately…” Richtofen said, shoving his face in yours and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Hm… parted lips, increased rate of breathing, pupils dilated… Did running into mein arms in the dark arouse you that much?”

“Doctor… You’re crazy,” you said, refusing to admit what you’d been thinking about. “Could you please be crazy somewhere other than my face?”

“Ach, I don’t have time to play with you anyway!” He snapped, turning away with a sharp movement. Both of you froze as you heard the familiar shuffling of the undead, scanning the area for the source. “Ah, there are mein children! Come, let us see if they are interested in some bullet lobotomies, ja?”

You hoisted your gun to your shoulder with an all too practiced motion, the butt of the rifle settling into its usual spot. “I got your back, doctor.”

The way he looked at you, a weighty sadness in his eyes you’d never seen before, was like there was a different man standing in front of you. “I know you do. I have always appreciated your determination und strength while fighting by mein side,” he murmured before turning away to raise his own gun towards the window the noises were coming from.

Confused, you watched him for a moment, unsure if you’d just had some sort of hallucination or if really had seen a moment of sanity from him. Was he on something? Was he crashing from Speed Cola?! You turned around and moved until your back was up against his, shooting the zombies that were slowly making their way towards you through a door of the room. It appeared you were on some sort of ship, a freighter beached in the ice off the shore of a coastal area or an island. Wherever you were, it was deathly frigid and you were glad for the wool trench coat and gloves that protected you from the chill. You could already tell it would be colder once you had to leave the ship for the snowy expanse beyond and you weren’t looking forward to it.

After about a dozen or so zombies had been cleared Richtofen walked–no, danced–around the room before pointing out a window toward a lighthouse nearby. “We shall check there. Hurry! You are so slow…”

Ah, the whimsical version of Richtofen is back now. The way he could flip through emotions was already dizzying enough you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle the addition of the sad, serious version he’d shown you a moment earlier. Trying to get your mental bearings, you jogged to follow him, gripping your gun tight and keeping your eyes peeled for danger. As you followed him across the deck of the ship you had to tense your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering. You were used to much more temperate climates, but you noted the snow didn’t bother the German one bit. You decided you never wanted to visit Germany.

“Aha! A ramp!” He exclaimed, gesturing in a mock gentlemanly manner. “Ladies first.”

You made sure he saw you roll your eyes at his pretend chivalry before stepping onto the ramp and– You were slipping on a layer of ice, your hands flinging out behind you to catch yourself. A firm grip caught the collar of your jacket and yanked you back into a waiting arm. Richtofen held you, an evil grin on his face. “Dummkopf! If you really wanted that plush ass of yours bruised I’d be happy to oblige the desire in much more interesting ways.”

You yanked away from him, almost sending yourself toppling down the ramp again with how haphazardly you lurched away. “Doctor, I need you to focus less on my ass and more on the mission,” you said firmly, narrowing your eyes, trying to hide your excitement at the prospect of what he’d implied he could do to you.

“That would be easier if you stopped looking at me the way you have been,” he muttered, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“If you think I’ve been looking at you with anything other than annoyance you’re hallucinating,” you sneered. You had no time to react as his hand grabbed your throat, rage in his eyes. He was pressing you against the railing of the deck and with a good push he could probably toss you over the edge. You hand came up to grab his wrist and you struggled for your life.

“Play shy…Deny whatever you want…but do not try to confuse me by telling me something is a hallucination when it’s not.” His breathing was heavy and behind the anger there was a desperate anguish, but the hand on your throat trembled slightly, not quite cutting off all your air. “I have enough trouble keeping things straight… especially now that I have him in my head.”

“I’m sorry!” You choked out, genuinely meaning it beyond wanting to avoid an icy swim in the waters below. You hadn’t realized how much that would upset him.

He breathed, calming himself and loosening his grip. He stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, his hand gently resting on your throat while he regained his composure. Finally he drew back, a look of regret flashing through his eyes before he pulled his uniform straight and adjusted his cap.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “You’re right. That was uncalled for and… insensitive. I can only imagine what it’s like to question reality. I…I shouldn’t have used that against you.”

“Ah, what can I expect from someone with such low intelligence.” He lifted his hands in an exaggerated shrug, returning to his usual sassy self. “You are American, after all. You’d be smarter if you were German.”

“Sure, doctor,” you replied sarcastically, shaking your head at the quick switch in tone.

“Why do you call me that?” He was back to that serious softness that made you wonder if you were going to survive this mission with your sanity intact. When you moved towards the ramp he grabbed your hand to help you down the slippery slope. Was it just the descent down the ship that was slippery or were your feelings for him just as dangerous? You weren’t sure, but you didn’t pull away from his touch.

“Aren’t you a doctor?” You asked, stepping carefully and being glad for his help staying upright as your foot glided over hidden ice patches.

“Ja, but you only call me doctor. The rest call me by my last name.”

“After what we’ve been through it feels a little silly to call you by your last name,” you commented wryly, sighing with relief when you both made it to the crunchy snow below where your footing was more stable. When he let you go you instantly missed the contact.

“You could use my first name,” he noted, holding out his gun as he noticed a zombie stumbling in your direction.

You lifted your gun to protect his exposed side, taking quick aim and firing a shot. “Edward?”

“Ja?” He looked at you and raised an eyebrow.

“No, I was just trying it out,” you chuckled. “It’s a nice name.” It felt weird to call him by his first name–too intimate somehow even though you were on a first name basis with the rest of the group. Probably because of all the fantasies your brain had been supplying you with about the older man over the last few days…okay, months.

He was silent, focusing on clearing the zombies in the way as you both moved towards the lighthouse. When you glanced over at him you saw a flush spread across his cheeks and ears. Was he blushing?! No, it must be from the cold… That man could spout the lewdest things without blinking an eye. There was no way he’d get embarrassed from you saying and complimenting his name…right? It had to be something else. Anything else…

A spiral staircase awaited you when the both of you breached the lighthouse. You started the climb up it, Richtofen behind you. It was a long ascent and about halfway up, he was panting slightly. “I’m getting too old for this,” he muttered.

You chuckled, turning back and offering your hand to the man who was about twice your age. “You seem like you still have some fight left in you. Besides, no one is more childlike than you so no one will notice how old you are.”

He scoffed, hesitating before taking your hand. The cool leather was soft as his long fingers gripped your hand. You were surprised he’d accepted; you’d meant it more as an addition to the teasing, not a serious offer. You squeezed his hand, the stomach bugs having a downright party inside you as the both of you continued to the landing at the top. The contact was only broken when he left to wander around the light in the center of the room. You busied yourself with securing the floor hatch over the stairs to keep out the undead while he checked out your surroundings.

“It’s so loud,” he whispered, his back to you.

“Is it? It’s quiet to me… no zombies, just the sounds of the sea and air.”

“Nein, his memories are loud. Are they memories if they haven’t happened yet? Or have they already happened? Is he doing them now?!” There was a panicked edge to his tone that increased the more he talked.

You moved close to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, doc–Edward? Are you alright?”

He whipped around, his eyes strained and his eyebrows furrowed. “Nein! I have… feelings! He’s so sad all the time… Ach! He’s such a baby! I do not want to share his name, let alone experience his life.”

“Whoa, okay… um, so feelings… are new for you?” That made sense, honestly, but who was this guy he kept talking about?

Richtofen grabbed you suddenly, yanking you to him and you let out a surprised squeak. “Do you know what it’s like to deal with all the voices, the hallucinations, und now… a whole other life? Another version of me, confusing me!”

“No, I have no idea,” you answered honestly, not sure what else to say. Your heart squeezed painfully at how distraught he looked.

“Nein, of course you don’t,” he said, letting you go to pace the circle around the light. You had to step double time to keep up with his long legs. “This is mein burden to bear… The price of the greatness I have achieved!”

“Can it be, I don’t know… cured?” You asked. You’d always been a bit worried at his outbursts, noticing an increase in his chaotic mental state as you travelled with him, but he’d never been so upset or willing to open up about it.

“A bullet to his head might do the trick, ja? But how to find him… I don’t even know what dimension to look in! Ach, so annoying! Er ist echt 'ne Nervensäge!”

You reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward you. He turned to face you, halting his pacing. You weren’t sure what you intended to do, acting on instinct alone. He stood, waiting, watching you with a confused expression. Then your body was moving without your brain; you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, reveling in how slender it was compared to his broad shoulders. You turned your head to press your face against his chest, putting as much of your body to his as possible, hoping to squeeze some comfort into him.

He tensed up, his breath coming out shaky. You could hear his heart racing in his ribcage and both of you stayed unmoving for a few seconds before he raised a hesitant hand to rest between your shoulder blades. “I have… feelings for you, Fräulein. Before he infected my mind I merely found you attractive… I just wanted to make your face twist in pain while you bounced on mein Schwanz! But now… he’s infected my mind und I also want to do… ugh, gross things! Like… stroke your hair!”

If you weren’t so concerned for him you’d laugh at how disgusting he found something as normal as caressing someone. His hand moved higher, resting on the top of your head and running down to the base of your skull. You shivered in pleasure. “I like those things,” you whispered, your face heating up.

“Oh, of course you do. A soft little thing like you…” He scoffed, his hand wrapping around your waist to keep you close as he rested his cheek on your hair.

You hid your face in his chest so your words were muffled by his uniform. “I like the other stuff you said too.”

He straightened and grabbed your shoulders, pushing you away from him and narrowing his eyes. His pupils flicked between yours and you tried not to cower from his analysis–a struggle considering the shame you were feeling after your confession. “Are you fucking with me?” He asked bluntly, the lines between his brows deepening.

“Not yet,” you whispered, your boldness bringing more heat to your face.

Suddenly, he cupped your cheeks, forcing you on to your tiptoes as he dragged your lips to his. You pressed in, returning the kiss with a sigh. It was a short kiss, but the electricity in it was exhilarating. He ended it quickly, pushing you away to search your eyes while taking a steadying breath. You could only assume he found whatever answer he was looking for as he leaned in to kiss you again. This time you grabbed the collar of his jacket, deciding you weren’t going to let him pull away again. It wasn’t necessary because he was turning you, pressing you against the glass enclosure of the huge light in the middle, trapping your body between it and him.

Your moan vibrated into his lips as he ripped at your clothes. You barely had the presence of mind to flip the safety on your gun before it clattered to the ground at your feet, desperate to be rid of anything that could get in the way of the passion. You moved your hands, one up to the back of his head to feel the short hair there and the other roaming down to palm the growing bulge in his slacks. He groaned, crushing your lips with the force of his kiss as he teeth clashed against yours from his desperation to meld your bodies together.

Your pants were half undone before he’d got distracted with other parts of you, sliding those leather gloves up the skin of your abdomen, pushing your bra out of his way and squeezing your breasts. “Fick,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, “I denied myself this for too long.”

You forced yourself to pull away to shrug off your coat and he ripped your shirt off you as soon as your arms were free from the wool sleeves. With a twist of your hips, his hands forced you to face the glass, pinning you there so he could strip your bra and yank your pants down to your boots. You whimpered, your voice a barely audible whisper as you admitted the dark secret you’d been trying to reject: “I couldn’t stop dreaming about you…I tried, but–ahhhh!”

He shoved his hand between your legs roughly, finding your clit and rubbing it aggressively. His other hand grabbed the hair at the back of your head and wrenched back so he could see your face. “Oh, the real thing will be so much more irresistible than your dreams could have ever been, liebling,” he crooned, his cockiness proportional to your eagerness. Your hands pressed against the cold glass, supporting you as he ravaged your clit, wetness building between your thighs until he was able to shove one of his fingers inside your hole, making you cry out. Your brows furrowed and your eyelids became heavy as pleasure coursed through you. He was right about one thing: his leather hands on your body was better than you ever could have imagined.

He added another finger, pumping them into you furiously. Your legs were already shaking from the effort of keeping yourself standing during his assault on your core. He released your hair to roam your body as if wanting to experience all of you as quickly as possible; wrapping around your throat for a quick squeeze, grasping a handful of breast, pinching a nipple, stroking down the sensitive skin of your ribs and then smacking your ass. All of it had you drowning in sensation as he drew whimpers and incoherent begging from your lips. He was speaking in a low voice from behind you, an anchor for your lost mind: “I’m going to fuck you so completely that you are destroyed and rebuilt.” His free hand stopped its journey over your skin to rub at your clit. “You’ll disintegrate, becoming nothing, until your entire being is composed of only the pleasure and pain I give you.”

You knew your heart was just as fucked as you were about to be. He nipped at your ear before twisting to press his mouth to yours, plunging his tongue inside to tease yours into an erotic dance. You drank from him like you needed him to live, sucking his tongue and lips with wild abandon, drawing deep groans from his chest. “Edward…,” you whimpered, you hands flailing to find some way to hold onto him to keep from collapsing as he fucked you hard with his fingers.

“Come for me,” he commanded mid-kiss. You grabbed the back of his neck with one hand, accidentally knocking off his hat, and a fistful of pants at his hip with the other as your knees gave out, crying out your pleasure into his lips. His arms helped pin you to him so you didn’t drop to the floor as your orgasm coursed through your body. You’d never felt an orgasm this good before; like every one of your molecules were being ripped apart and reforming anew. Your scream was loud enough to pierce the heavens.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, his fingers indenting your skin with the pressure he applied to keep your body to his. You hummed happily, drunk on bliss as he nuzzled into your neck, kissing and grazing his teeth over the skin. “Good girl,” he murmured, “such a good girl for me.”

You whimpered as the praise ignited your core all over again. When your strength returned you twisted to face him, your arms around his neck while you pressed kisses into his lips, his sharp cheekbones, and strong jaw. He was patient, accepting your adoration as you murmured all the things you’d been holding back all these months: “You’re so handsome it’s a crime… your mind is terrifyingly intelligent… God, I’ve fought so hard not to be obsessed with you…”

“I do have that effect on people,” he chuckled, glowing at your praise. “How can anyone resist my charms?”

He sounded playful, but the smile that spread across his lips was that of pure happiness, containing no malicious intent for once. It was a smile you were sure you were the only one to ever witness, melting your heart in a painful inferno of love for the man in your arms. “Please,” you whispered, pleading with your tone and eyes, “let me serve you.” Forever, your soul added silently. “I want to make you cum.”

He groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Well, when you word it like that…”

You slipped out of his arms, down his body until you were on your knees, working the buckle of his belt. His lips parted as he watched you deftly undo his pants with lust filled eyes. His cock was hard and ready for you when you finally freed him, springing up from his drawers when you pulled them down. Fuck, you could barely contain your excitement. He moved the flap of his jacket, pinning it to his hip with one hand to get a clear view of you as his other hand came to rest on your head. You planted kisses down the underside of his shaft, keeping your worshipful eyes on his so you didn’t miss a single reaction to the pleasure you were supplying him.

Grasping his cock firmly, you licked him from base to tip, circling your tongue once around the head before sucking him in. Your hand pumped in time with your bobbing head, providing friction to the length of him your mouth couldn’t accommodate. He was huge, you realized with a fearful thrill, your thighs pressing together in anticipation for when you would get to feel him fill your pussy. Your arousal brought a moan from your chest, vibrating your mouth around him. His hand clenched in your hair as his hips bucked forward, stabbing the back of your mouth with his tip, making you gag.

The sound seemed to do something to him, sparking some kind of animalistic frenzy. He used a fistful of your hair to force your head forward and back roughly, his hips thrusting in time. His breathing came out in huffs, his jaw clenched as he watched his cock enter and exit your lips with wide eyes. He wanted to hurt you, gag you, use you and God were you willing, begging him with your eyes to do his worst. “Oh, you little Schlampe… getting off on lutsche meinen Schwanz…you like when I abuse you, don’t you?”

You nodded as best you could under the circumstances, focusing on sucking as much as possible while he slammed his cock down your throat, getting a little bit deeper into your neck with each stroke. Drool dripped down your chin, but all you cared about was the taste of his precum on your tongue. You only had a few seconds of air left before the darkness would take your vision completely, your whole body tingling as your blood was deprived of oxygen. Before you passed out completely he pulled you off him and you weakly whined at your treat being taken away. He chuckled, waiting for you to be able to hold yourself up before letting go of your hair. “The rest of your clothes, strip them,” he ordered, idly stroking your saliva into his cock with one leather gloved hand.

You shifted to sit on your ass, ripping at the shoelaces binding your boots to your feet as quickly as possible. Unceremoniously, you kicked the boots off, ripping your pants and underwear from your legs, tossing them aside. As soon as you had finished complying to his demand you were back on your knees, hands on his thighs to try and get him back into your mouth, but he placed a finger against your lips before you could. Bending over slightly, he placed a gloved hand around your neck, squeezing gently while he kissed you, parting your lips with his, exploring the back of your teeth with his tongue. When he pulled away, your mouth still gaping open, he spat and his saliva hit your tongue. “Swallow and thank me,” he whispered.

Well that… that did something to you. It was like an out of body experience where nothing mattered, but him and doing whatever he said, making you crave receiving more orders to follow. You swallowed, meaning it with every fiber of your being as you looked up at him and said: “Thank you, sir.”

“Herr Doktor,” he corrected, an excited smile on his face as you slipped deep into submission for him.

“Yes, Herr Doktor, thank you.” Your voice was laced with bliss.

His other hand was in your hair again, yanking you to stand and then slamming you back against the glass of the light. His nose grazed your cheek as he took in your scent, whispering so his breath fluttered against your ear. “Do you know what you smell like?”

“No, Herr Doktor,” you moaned, you cunt tightening painfully over the empty space he should be filling.

“You smell like sex. You smell like prey,” he growled, pressing a knee between your thighs, making you moan as the fabric of his slacks brushed against your clit. Your hips rolled to get more and he laughed, mocking you. “Ah, look at you… such a desperate little thing! Humping my leg like a dog in heat.”

You didn’t care how pathetic you were acting. You whined, “Please, I need you, Herr Doktor.”

“Say please in my tongue: ‘bitte,’ he crooned, teasing you by pressing his knee against you harder. “If you ask sweetly enough maybe I’ll fuck you with meinen Schwanz.”

You moaned out desperately. “Bitte! Bitte, Herr Doktor. I need your…S-schwanz?”

“My Schwanz. My cock. Do you need it, pretty little thing?” He rubbed his leg against you, making you cry out.

“Yes! Yes…ja!” Your brain supplied you with one of the few German words you knew–honestly impressive of it considering how mushy it had become. “Ja, Herr Doktor. Your Schwanz, bitte!”

It looked like he was trying to control himself, his jaw twitching with the will it took to keep his composure as his breath came out in short, fast bursts. “What a Schlampe you are–a slut. Are you a Schlampe? Are you…meine Schlampe?”

You thought it was incredibly unfair that he was choosing now to subject you to this German lesson with how far your brain was gone, but you did your best for him despite the grinding of his knee sending flutters through your core. “Ja, Herr Doktor. I’m a Schlampe…” You finally managed, whimpering between words. “I’m your Schlampe and I…I need your Schwanz…bitte!”

“Ahhhh, gute Schlampe!” He praised, hooking an arm under your knee to lift your leg up and angling himself to press the tip of his cock against your exposed slit. You thrust against him, gaining a few inches inside of you and moaning in pleasure and pain as the size of him stretched you.

“Ah fick, you’re tight!” He groaned as he pressed his hips forward, forcing himself as deep as he could go and waiting a moment for you to adjust. A moment. That was all he gave you before he started slamming into you hard and fast.

You were crying out hoarsely, tears welling up in your eyes as he split you on his cock. “Yes! Bitte!”

He didn’t need your encouragement, but you gave it anyway. He lifted your leg up higher so he could go deeper, his tip pressing against your cervix. It hurt in the most delicious way and all you could do was cling to him, covering his face and neck with kisses. His grunts and moans mixed with yours to create a carnal symphony that matched the beat of your bodies colliding. You grasped his neck with your mouth, sucking and biting a hickey just above the collar of his shirt. He responded in kind, his mouth trapping the muscle connecting your shoulder to your neck and clamping his teeth down.

Your pleasure built up quickly, driven by his relentlessness. You screamed into his skin, hearing his sharp intake of breath as your teeth clenched his skin as hard as your cunt clenched his cock. Your orgasm was explosive, sending fireworks coursing through your blood. His hips shuddered, slamming into you a few more times until he buried into you as deep as he could, his cum spurting inside of you and dripping out, down his balls, as you were overfilled past capacity. He removed his teeth from your skin and you did the same, kissing the hickey you left until he used his forehead to push your head up, claiming your lips. Both of you fought to catch your breath, sharing the limited air between your mouths.

“You’re mein,” he whispered, an almost needy, pleading, hoarseness choking him. “You said…you are mein. Do not forget.”

“Yours,” you promised, sealing it with a kiss. “Forever.”

“Mein,” he repeated firmly, nipping at your bottom lip and kissing it tenderly.

You nodded, holding him close to you.

You stayed like that until your leg cramped and he slipped out of you, limp. He fished gauze out of his medical pouch to clean the both of you up before you got dressed. You thought it was sweet how he would grab you every few minutes, pressing his lips to yours for a quick kiss and letting go with a sigh before you realize he always preceded it with a look of disbelief–he was making sure you were real and not just some hallucination or a memory from another version of him. Your heart squeezed with pain and the next time he did it, you didn’t let him pull away.

“I’m real. This is real. This happened and will happen again. I’m yours,” you whispered.

He tried to laugh it off. “Of course. I know that! Silly…”

The way his hand trembled told you otherwise, but you let him fake it. Whatever helped him cope with the demons in his brain…

After the two of you found the Golden Rod you headed back to the other three men. They were barricaded in the teleporter and opened it when they saw you coming through the observation window. As Richtofen inputted settings into the control panel, the power went out. Bodies shifted around and you searched for your German doctor. Your hand brushed something–someone–with wet on their shirt and recoiled, unsure if you’d bumped Nikolai or Takeo and not wanting to touch either of them. A hand found your ass and squeezed, running over your hips to your breast to grasp it. You reached up and checked that there was a German military cap on top of the head of the hand’s owner, leaning back against his side with a quiet happy hum.

Dempsey’s voice sounded over the rustling of clothing and breathing in the dark. "Kinda sick of me to ask this, but Richtofen… is that a rod in your pocket?"

"Nein!” Richtofen replied cheerily. “Let's go! I got what I needed." He hit a button and the teleporter filled with blinding blue light.

#edward richtofen #ultimis richtofen #edward richtofen x reader

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