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spookykoolkat · 1 year ago

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Plus Size!Metalhead!Reader x Eddie Munson smut idiots to lovers!

The reader is Robin’s best friend and has just moved back to Hawkins after studying abroad.

When she returns she is introduced to everyone and quickly becomes part of the gang. Eddie quickly falls for her as the two have quite a lot in common, however, he doesn’t act on his feelings as he thinks the reader is Robin’s girlfriend. Little does he know she has major feelings for him as well but she thinks him and Steve are together. Eventually they are forced to bunk together on a camping trip (orchestrated by Steve and Robin who have been dying for the two to finally admit their feelings) at first things are awkward between the two but they soon heat up into something neither of them expected.

the cabin in the woods - e.m. request*

main masterlist

an: just a story i tried to convey the best, about two very confused adults who don't really know how to communicate! i hope this does your idea justice it took me FOREVER i'm so sorry 😭 and its so long omg this is my longest work ever PLS I HOPE ITS NOT BORING THANK U FOR SENDING UR REQUESTS I LOVE THEM 🩷🩷 i'm also doing requests for kinktober if anyone wants to send them in :p thank u everyone to all of ur love on all of my fics u dont even Know how much it means to me 🥹

wc: 10.4K

warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of mutual pining, explicit thoughts, mentions of eddie and you wishing the other weren't gay, lots of mentions of sexualities, miscommunication, porn with a plot, p in v, (unprotected. do NOT do this), oral sex (m and f receiving), slight ass play, ownership, pet names (sweet girl, baby, princess, pretty, sweetheart, etc)

MINORS NOT WELCOME. DNI!

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IT WAS WEIRD BEING BACK IN HAWKINS, being back in the states in general felt like a culture shock. and disappointing. the euphoric feeling of learning and living in another country for a year was not comparable, and you promised your best friend robin that when you got back, you'd tell her all about it.

over the year you were gone for your studies, she told you about a few people she met while she was in high school, and had been with ever since. she was excited about bringing you to a party the night of your arrival so you could meet everyone, she said you were all she ever talked about, and how excited everyone was to meet you.

robin was insistent on your attendance, getting small hesitation on your part, and she swore up and down that you'd fit right in. you questioned her judgment sometimes, especially in women, but you had no other reason not to trust your best friend.

you and robin were complete opposites, you were the girl who liked metal, death metal, and occasionally rock music and she enjoyed the oldies, harboring weird talents and interests that you enjoyed learning about. but you clicked so well, meshed together in a way where you could never be separated.

it wasn't long before you arrived at her place, dressed and ready after hitting your house first, and was met with a lethal scream of your name and tears of joy. it didn't take long to catch up, talk, cry, and laugh so the minute robin decided it was time to go to this party, you guys drove into the city together.

"are you excited?!" she dragged as she noticed your fingers tap against your faded gray jeans that were maybe two sizes too bog, hanging low on your hips with the help of a belt.

"i'm fucking nervous." you admitted and ran your fingers through your hair.

"for what? dude, these are not people who need to be impressed. they're going to love you and i know it!" she exclaimed.

it was a bit before they drove past buildings, and turned into nothing until they pulled into a trailer park.

“eddie’s trailer was the destination party zone tonight, so, yeah.” robin said as she parked next to a van, presumably eddie’s. you weren’t one to judge a single person, especially not one you didn’t know, so you just nodded with a smile and stepped out of the car.

you adjusted your black tank top that, unlike your jeans, was maybe two sizes too small and hugged the curves and rolls of your body.

you liked the way you looked, your wrists covered in bracelets with studs and beads on them, your hair parted down the middle and frizzy from the hawkin’s heat. the makeup you had on was minimal, just black eyeliner smudged around your eyes and lipstick that was lined with black and filled in with a blood red.

robin was so drawn to you when she first met you. she thinks about it as the two wait at his front door, and how she was so lucky to meet you. to bring her out of her shell and be honest with herself.

she knew being with you meant zero judgment, and if someone dared to fuck with you or robin, robin knew you’d be quick to defend her with your life. you honestly reminded her a lot of eddie once she met him, telling him she had a friend that he would just love. he doubted it of course. eddie didn’t think there was another person like him that existed, impossible.

but robin knew, she believed she knew everything. and she made a small promise to herself that she’d help you find someone, even though you insisted on being happy alone. she knew it was true, but when she first met eddie she realized maybe she could play cupid when you came back into town.

“robin, did you bring the-” eddie said, opening the door, until he looked beside the skinny, jittery girl.

you didn’t blush at the unsaid compliment, you just watched as eddie looked over your full figure.

“eddie… you’re staring,” robin said, looking between you and eddie to make sure he wasn’t scaring you off. you just laughed a little.

you stuck your hand out and introduced yourself by your name, “i’m robin’s friend.”

he took it with grace and stuttered out a small hey, as normal as he could but it was indeed weird. eddie looked at robin, gleaming with pride, and he tried to put two and two together, failing miserably.

“friend?” eddie asked, looking between the two of you before letting go of your hand.

“yes idiot! she just moved back to hawkins, she’s the one i’ve been talking about!” robin said as she grabbed your hand and dragged you inside. you give him a smile, and a look over, going with your friend.

she’s the one i’ve been talking about. how could he be so stupid? he totally forgot about this girl he’d been hearing about. robin would go on and on about her friend coming back from another country, and how much she adored this friend and missed this friend and how badly she wanted the group to meet this friend.

he didn’t think too much about it, he didn’t want to assume. everyone knew robin played for the other team, so he wasn’t sure if you were her friend or her friend. so, he took advantage of the gray area and checked you out as robin introduced everyone to you. eddie saw how robin held her arm, close to her and tight.

he also tried to pay attention to the groups reactions, to see if maybe they had the same idea as him. he was a shit expression reader. he was going to feel bad about staring at this girl, imagining her in every way he could, if you were in fact robin’s girlfriend.

as the night went on, it seemed like it got more difficult. you kept seeing him stare at you sitting on the floor in between nancy and robin, he watched you as you drank and laughed and got to know the crowd that robin found herself in. you enjoyed everyone, nancy was such a nice girl to you, constantly asking if you needed anything and if you were okay.

you wondered if eddie would come over to you and maybe try to talk to you, but he just engaged in conversations with steve.

you got to know everyone, who was studying what, if they decided to go to college next fall or not, life plans and enjoying each other’s company. it wasn’t often you were alone, but the minute robin and nancy got up to get another drink from eddie’s fridge, he slithered his way to sit next to you.

“i was wondering when you were going to stop staring at me,” you spoke, turning your head as you sat crisscrossed in front of the small coffee table.

“i was trying to figure out, and i’m being honest here don’t laugh at me” he warned before speaking again, “if you were real.”

you laughed a bit more than you expected, feeling it in your tummy and he gave you a pout.

“and your conclusion?” you asked, taking a sip again.

“honestly? i’m not so sure yet.”

it was the beginning of long conversations, laughter, bonding, and hidden flirting. the two of you were dancing around each other, bouncing off of each other's wit and casual snarkiness.

it was fun, you could admit. and you finally assessed him, his faded metallica shirt was paired with black jeans that might’ve been tighter than yours, almost the same bracelets. his arms were covered in aimless tattoos that were small and looked like they were just drawn on from how many he had. you loved them.

“i love metallica,” you murmur against your cup, indulging in eddie while everyone talks amongst themselves and listens to the music.

it was loud enough to not hear your conversation if you were someone else, that you were grateful for. you watched as he sat up a bit to glance at his shirt, and gave you a nervous smile.

“wha- oh, right yeah. me too, i can play a few songs on my guitar actually.” he tried to impress after remembering the shirt he was wearing, and it worked. you were a sucker for guitar players, especially ones who preferred metal and rock.

“oh yeah? are you in a band or something?” you laughed softly, there was no way he was actually in one because it’d make it ten times harder not to want to jump his bones. “what guitar?” you asked excitedly.

you appreciated the instrument even with no knowledge about it and would appreciate it more seeing him play it for you. eddie liked seeing the excitement on your face, the way you got closer to him sent excitement somewhere else for him.

“i am actually, maybe i can play for you one day.” he teased and finally, you blushed.

the way his eyes met yours made you want to melt into it, have his gaze consume you whole. he was everything, he was adorable, handsome, sexy, attractive, funny, and god was he charming. he didn’t even have to do much to send you pining after him.

“it’s on my wall, in my room if you wanna see it,” he suggested and you raised an eyebrow, too distracted to remember what he was talking about and he notices, “the guitar, i don’t use it often but i think this one time is an exception, afterall you might just be my favorite guest. wouldn’t want any of my hospitality going to someone like steve,” he joked and steve whipped his head around.

“i heard that, asshole.” steve replied over the music, sending you to laugh before looking back to eddie who blew him an exaggerated kiss.

“i’d love to see it,"

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you were staying for good, which meant you had all the time in the world with eddie when he wasn’t working at his uncle’s mechanic shop. he would brag about being the one to take over, shaking his head at the thought of going to college.

you didn’t mind though, you told him that college isn’t for everyone and it’s okay going a different route despite ghosted voices that were haunting him about it.

he admired the fact that you were so similar to him, finding himself getting lost in you when you explained the lore of texas chainsaw massacre and actually being interested in it too. he heard everything you said, listened to every story you told about being in france, and helped you through whatever hump you were trying to get over.

you didn’t believe robin when she said he was actually the only other guy she got along with besides steve, and how she believed it would be the same for you. she was right, but you’d never tell her.

and she’d never tell you her true intentions by introducing you to eddie, and how she wished that maybe he’d open you up enough to the idea of possibly dating again. but, she didn’t really think it through. she figured maybe she’d let the universe handle it, but then started to notice the dynamic of your idea forming about eddie.

you found yourself at his trailer a lot, smoking his weed that he offered and drinking, watching movies and enjoying the company of one another while robin was busy.

he gave you soft touches here and there, let you sleep in his bed with him when you were too high to drive back, gave you massages, picked you up when you needed a ride. he was there when you needed him, there at any moment you called for him.

and so were you. you really liked eddie, the feeling weighing on you everytime you let yourself take his flirting and touches for more than what they were. you felt guilty for lying next to him or on him when you passed out during a movie, you felt guilty for thinking about his lips on yours and on your body.

the only problem that kept the two of you from indulging in the fantasies you both had was… you strongly believed that eddie was in a relationship with steve harrington. and as for eddie, he was fully convinced that you were off limits because you were going with robin buckley.

and this was the problem robin worried about.

you knew robin was lesbian of course, and she knew you were bisexual. unfortunately, eddie knows robin is lesbian but figured you were lesbian as well. he couldn’t shake the feeling of craving you and wanting you the way he has, and he felt guilty because in his mind you were robin’s girl.

so, all of his dirty thoughts and ideas about you felt wrong, and instantly tried to bury it when one night he found himself wishing you liked men.

but where was the harm in imagination? eddie was so infatuated with you that his self indulgent behavior was harmless. he knew he couldn’t have you, he knew you only saw him as a friend and that was that. but he was so wrong, and so were you.

he thought of you daily, and in ways that were almost embarrassing. he craved you, the desire and want he had every time you were near was almost uncontrollable.

you never asked anyone if eddie was gay, to be fair. it wasn’t your place to ask of course, plus you figured if eddie was into you he’d just simply tell you.

you just assumed, and the way that he and steve interacted all the time made you think maybe they were romantically involved. eddie’s teasing and flirting towards steve made you wonder if eddie was completely off limits, but affirmed it when eddie would plant a wet kiss on steve’s cheek.

you didn’t know, but that was just what eddie did.

eddie was a flirt, to everyone but robin in their group. even if it was out of nowhere, that’s just how eddie carried himself. of course in your mind, you hoped that he was at least bisexual.

you felt incredibly guilty about that too because regardless if he was bisexual, in your mind he and steve were still a couple. to not only hope he turned out to be bisexual, but to fantasize about someone else’s partner was just incredulous to think about.

but there you were. daydreaming about the guy who sat next to you almost every other day on his couch after work, and would have to snap back into reality when he asked you if you wanted to smoke.

it was a routine.

you’d say yes, the two of you would smoke and listen to his cassettes, talk about urban legends and myths, movies and how you always felt like you could act—you couldn’t—and topics that seemed to flow between the two of you.

it was easy with him, and you appreciated it.

the only thing hard about the relationship you hold with him is that you’re thinking of being face down for him on your bed with your ass pushing against him. you were fighting every nasty thought of your friend, wondering how he’d feel inside of you and if he’d be able to make you cum.

the attraction the two of you had for each was obvious, so obvious that the entire group were pointing it out to each other.

robin needed a plan. and quickly, because she couldn’t fathom another minute of you denying yourself as well as him just because he thinks you’re lesbian. she didn’t want to address it actually, she wanted to scheme and plot. better to make them think it was coincidental when really she had something to prove.

robin felt weird about plotting a set up for you, especially because robin knew there was obviously a better and more logical way to approach this miscommunication between you and eddie. so, in hopes of setting the two of you up, robin goes to steve with her probably weird borderline disturbing idea.

turns out, steve and robin felt the same way. watching you two was just as painful for them as it was for the two of you. thus, mission cabin in the woods was put into place.

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you regretted this terribly. you weren’t an outdoorsy person even though the place you were staying was like a cabin. just a cabin in the woods, six young adults, left to their own devices for two days. it wasn’t the absolute worst you soon found out, the cabin was right near a lake that had a long extended pier, trees and dirt and grass surrounding you, and a large bonfire opportunity behind the cabin, right before you went to the lake.

it was more modern than anything, as everyone settled in and went around the cabin, pairs started calling dibs on the three rooms, leaving you and eddie the last pair to bunk together.

“robin, i thought we were going to stay together? what the hell?” you whispered as you grabbed her arm to drag her down the hall away from everyone. you already settled in while eddie quietly took his things to his side of the room.

“oh! um, right,” she didn’t think of what would happen after phase one of her and steve’s plan, nervously glancing at steve who was peeking at the girls from his door frame.

“steve, i mean you know steve, he needed to talk to me about how he keeps getting rejected by every woman, like ever. he was a little upset about nancy and jonathan rooming together.”

she was lying, and you followed her awkward gaze to steve, when he immediately withdrew himself from peeking and behind the wall. but you heard a small gasp from that room since it wasn’t too far from where you and nancy stood at the stairs.

it was steve’s gasp, because when he rested his back against the wall and opened his eyes again, eddie was standing there in front of him with his arms crossed.

“dude, what the fuck,” steve said, and eddie shook his head.

“i should be saying that to you. care to tell me why on earth i’m rooming with her?” eddie asked condescendingly, expecting the truth.

“what’s wrong with that? i thought you guys were friends. robin, she needed my advice to-”

“i’m going to ask you again.” eddie said, “why am i not rooming with you?”

steve looked defeated and he hasn’t even tried, but he knew if he gave no excuse it would be worse than a shitty one. he was also a little scared that robin would become unfathomably upset if steve told eddie what was really going on.

and so would you, so before either of the two could mutter out another lie while you and eddie interrogate them unknowingly at the same time, nancy ended up coming out of her room with a grin,

“i need to go swimming, come on!”

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the entirety of the day you spent at the cabin on your first day of a three day trip, you spent at the lake. not by yourself of course, you and the other two girls swam and tanned as the guys sat in their swim trunks, drinking beers.

to make things more interesting, the three of you decided to have fun diving off the pier and into the lake, splashing each other, and playing marco polo.

now the three of you swam around each other, keeping yourselves afloat to talk and converse. the conversation started about you being in france again, and if you met anyone there, if you had a french lover for the semester or if you were too busy with your head in books.

“there was this one girl, god she was like five foot eleven and just, she was so fucking gorgeous. we met at a cafe and we talked for like a few days until she was like, ‘well i don’t really think i’m gay,’ and i was just,” you explained to the girls and paused. “we kissed and i guess she wasn’t into it so i never heard from her again.”

“you’ve lived like ten lives.” robin deadpanned and it made a laugh bubble to your throat.

“so you’re bisexual?” nancy inquired, genuinely. “you know i thought you were straight actually.”

“yeah i thought i was a lesbian for like six years but then i started dating this guy during high school but i still liked girls so, figured i was bisexual.” you said with a small laugh, and the girls smiled at you.

“so, do you think eddie knows?’ nancy asked the two of you as you guys kept afloat in the water and you raised your eyebrow, looking between robin, nancy, and even glancing over your shoulder to the guys who were now smoking so you could look at eddie.

only for eddie to already be looking at you while you swam in the water. a blush creeped onto your skin, thanking god that your slight sunburn covered it.

“knows what?” you asked.

“that you’re not actually a lesbian,” nancy laughed and you heard robin wince and say nancy’s name.

“what?” you couldn’t help yourself from the high octave in your voice, and nancy looked surprised.

“she didn’t know, nance.” robin said bleakley and nancy mouthed a small sorry to her.

“explain. now.” you demanded, swimming your way to the pier to pull yourself up and sit on the ledge. the girls followed you but stayed in the lake.

“well, see, he kind of thinks that we’re together, like girlfriends. and well, fuck,” robin said as she looked behind you and hit her wet hand against her hand.

“what?” you asked worriedly and saw a forced smile creep onto her lips.

“hey!! eddie!” robin said dramatically and you looked behind you to see eddie, standing in nothing but his black swim trunks and right in back of you. so much as to where you were practically face to face with his groin. you whipped around quickly.

eddie was watching you all day. he couldn’t help but watch you. your bikini set didn’t help him either, steve actually had to tell him to close his mouth when you pulled yourself up from out of the water and onto the wooden pier, every movement causing a bounce and jiggle in your body and sending an ache to his cock.

he was thinking of you so impurely, so twisted that he didn’t even feel like he was being himself. he didn’t understand why he was so obsessed with you, why everything about you made him want you even more.

“well apparently those two assholes have suffered major injuries to their legs because they both asked me to come over here and tell you two girls,” eddie said pointing with his index and middle finger at nancy and robin, “that you are wanted as of now.”

you didn’t bother turning around to peer up at him again, instead you just watched the girls look at you, then at each other, then swimming to the stairs of the pier. eddie takes a seat next to you, legs dangling off the pier. you feel the burn of his body heat sitting right next to you, and you look down to see the distinction between your thighs and eddie’s.

he’s like half your size.

you were nervous, you knew that you were a bigger girl and didn’t care, but suddenly you felt like you were taking up too much space. but he sat this close to you for a reason, your thighs spilled over to touch his at this point.

“is it just me or are they acting reaaaaaaaaally weird?” eddie asked, peeling his eyes from the crease between your tummy touching your thigh, and how the bikini bottom you wore pressed into your hip, to robin and steve. he needed to distract himself before he felt himself forming a tent in his not so stretchy swimming trunks.

you watched robin and steve from across the lake, sitting in lounge chairs and talking, while looking at the two of you. you tried to think back on the way robin had been acting this last month, wondering if she was showing any signs of suspiciousness to understand why she had been so secretive.

“he kind of thinks we’re together, like girlfriends,”

you were thinking back to finding out you weren’t sharing a room with your best friend, and instead the man you’ve thought about between your legs.

she was fucking lying.

“right…. hold that thought, actually.” you said blankly, lifting yourself from sitting on the wooden edge of the pier and fast walking your way to robin’s seat.

one, it was hard to sit next to eddie without being awkward about his presence. and two, this would be your only time to talk to robin about whatever she had up her sleeve.

eddie watched you walk off, how could he not, and watched as the pumpkin orange bikini get taken in between your asscheeks. he was definitely enjoying this view of your curvy silhouette, the rolls of your back, where the strings of your bikini bit into. he was enjoying all of this, and he immediately felt his cock harden again as he let himself consume all of you, and the way your thighs jiggled with every step.

eddie could say he wouldn’t know what love is, which would be true, but whatever it was, he felt it when you came into the picture. he had crushes before, girls in the classes he barely went to, his newest supplier, a girl he made eye contact with once. but you, you torched his body into flames with every touch and laugh. he was consumed by you, his mind only thinking of ways to make you smile, to make you happy. he remembered your favorite foods, what color you chose to wear out more, and even your own childhood crushes.

he wanted to be buried in them, to feel the way they suffocate him when he’s face to face with your thick core, spreading your lips to taste all of you. he couldn’t name a person that made him feel like you do, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else being made for him like you were.

knowing eddie’s eyes were on you, you ignored it as you pulled robin up from her seat.

“you were lying! steve didn’t fucking need your help, you were trying to set me up with eddie!” you hushed out, your cheeks hot.

“what?! i would ne-” you tilted your head and looked at her blankly.

“fuck okay, fine but steve helped me too!” your head whipped to steve who glared at robin and held his hands up in surrender.

“why would you help?” you asked, confused as ever now. you looked between the two as they looked at each other as if they know something you don’t.

“i mean, why would you want to set us up? eddie’s gay!” you said, as a matter of fact.

“and he’s dating you is he not?” you asked questionably, pointing to steve and now as you understood their faces more.

“what? no! you thought he was dating me?” steve exasperated from his seat, which wasn’t that far from where you stood.

“eddie’s not gay… that’s why we tried to um, set you guys up because both of you thought the other one was dating us. so, we took it upon ourselves.” robin explained and you crossed your arms over your chest to put a hand on your forehead.

“why would you think me and eddie were dating?” steve kept on, and robin shushed him as she looked back to you.

“i mean does it seem like we’re dating? like, am i-”

“steve. not now.” robin said curtly and you tapped your forehead.

“eddie’s… not gay?” you whispered to yourself and looked back to him, only to see him standing behind you.

“you thought i was gay?” eddie asked, finding it a little funny. he was amused, at least. not angry.

“um, steve i need, uh,” robin said and looked at steve. “that thing, you know like that thing i was talking about that time-”

“just go!” you grumbled, keeping your eyes on eddie as you heard their footsteps falter.

the only sound you can hear is nature, the lake, and your breathing. the sun was going down already, and the pink hue of the sunset coated the sky, and glimmered on eddie’s face. he looked beautiful, his curls were tighter given the lake water from earlier, dry now and his pale body was glistening with a small sheen of sweat from the humidity.

“you thought i was dating robin.” you said to defend yourself and his eyes went wide.

“you’re not dating robin? but she’s been like talking about you since forever and the way she talks about you━wait so you’re straight?” he said once he remembered what he was talking about.

“well no, i’m bisexual but, still like men.” you smiled.

there was a shift in the air once those words left your mouth, and when eddie’s eyes fell over your body from your face to your toes, you felt your core clench around nothing. there was something in his eyes that you’d never seen before, knowingly at least, and when your eyes raked over his body, you noticed a bulge in his trunks.

now you felt bare to him, only in two pieces of small cloth that covered your most vulnerable areas. something that eddie noticed too, knowing that he could get you naked bare for him with a pull and a tug on your swimsuit.

“so you’re single?” you blurted and bit your lip.

eddie smirked at the question, and stepped a little closer to you.

“and ready to mingle, baby.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

it was fairly surprising that everyone decided to shower and settle for watching a movie on the tv in the cozy living room. the fireplace was lit, only because it was practically freezing inside.

you were the last one to shower and after you finally got dressed in the humid bathroom, you ringed your hair dry with your towel and shook the strands apart. you decided that you were ready to hit the sack, wanting to get as much rest as possible before you find yourself out of breath and passing out from heat exhaustion the next day while you’re on your hike with the group. they wanted to actually try the whole campsite thing, roasting marshmallows and drinking water out of a can, meanwhile you just wanted to go dip in the lake again.

you decided to say goodnight to everyone who was downstairs, half already snoring, sprawled out on the floor. one person you didn’t see was eddie, who you actively looked for until you guessed he was in the restroom. your heart was already in your chest as your feet hit each stair, only taking you further to having to spend eight hours in the same bed with eddie munson.

maybe you were nervous. the thought of feeling this guy lay next to you in bed was putting a flutter in your tummy, everything felt like it flipped upside down when the confusion was cleared up between the two. no one ever made you feel like this, not even the six foot straight french girl who seduced you.

before you could even open the door to the room you were hoping that you’d be asleep by the time he came upstairs, just so that the ache between your legs would finally settle down. but to your dismay, you opened the door to eddie, shirtless and laying on his back over the comforters.

he sat up without a second thought, and you almost got whiplash with how quickly he moved and looked at you.

“i can take the floor if you want,” suddenly you felt small. it was a weird feeling, but walking into this room to sleep with him only felt like it was an invitation for more. and you wanted more.

“no it’s okay, i’m just ready for bed.” you said and smiled, closing the door and going to the right side of the bed.

“can i turn this off?” you asked looking over your shoulder just to see him looking at the bare skin of your back that your skimpy little shirt didn’t cover.

“you can do whatever you want, princess.” he muttered under his breath and you turned your head, smiling and pulling the beaded string until you heard a click. his lamp was still on as you pulled your legs into the lifted covers, sliding down to lay on your side and face the opposite direction of eddie.

eddie on the other hand was thinking of what to say as he turned his lamp off, doing the same maneuver you did to get comfortable, except he was facing you. staring at your back again, his eyes went lower until the blanket was resting at the curve of your waist. he noticed where your shirt copied the and molded your rolls and back.

eddie felt like now it was a free-for-all. knowing you’re not tied down to someone, and knowing you were still very attracted to the opposite sex.

“steve and robin tried to set us up didn’t they?” he asked you from behind, his voice still very close to you.

“they did,” you confirmed, softly.

“did you want to be set up with me?” he asked, a little nervous.

“if i tell you then robin and steve would be right.” you said and turned awkwardly to face him, now eye to eye. he couldn’t help but notice the way your tits pressed together.

“who said we have to tell them the truth?”

his hand didn’t waste a second to press into your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your lips to trace them.

“you really want me?” eddie asked.

there it was, the shift in the dark air that was only scarcely lit by the full moon flooding in through the bare window.

you didn’t answer, you only shifted from your position to your knees, moving the blanket off of eddie to see his pale white skin, and straddle his hips when he laid on his back. your hands moved to his chest to steady yourself and his hands fell naturally to the dip of your curve, gripping into the fat of your hips.

he tilted his head to look up at you, your hair cascading down your shoulders to create a sort of shield around your face. he couldn't help but tug at a strand,making you smile.

you just decided to go for it. all the nervousness and teasing and flirting built up to this, when you leaned down to press your lips into his.

it was odd because eddie pictured this moment just like this, with you straddling him in just shorts and a loose fitting tank, watching your soft lips come closer to his with your eyes closed. you were so fucking cute, and he tried to constrain himself from going wild by digging into your skin.

the kiss was soft first, eddie let you move your lips on his before he found a rhythm and moved with you, gentle, soft, teasing kisses to test the waters. you were growing wet with every minute you fixed your lips to his, using one hand to put right under his jaw, rubbing his throat with your fingers.

you thought maybe eddie was just enjoying the kiss way too much as you got a little more messy, the two of you giving hard kisses, but the minute you felt something poking your inner thigh, you realized you had been grinding down on him the entire time.

you pulled away first, leaving him just as breathless as you, but he followed you and sat up with you, chasing your lips. he had a dumb grin on his face, looking over your disheveled look to see where you two met. god, she looks fucked out already.

“eddie?” you hummed, letting your fingers trace the small tattoos and the ones that lead to his manhood.

“fuck, yes baby?” he breathed and watched you take your plush lip between your teeth and sit back fully on his clothed cock. he let out a strained groaned and it brought a smile to your face.

“can i suck your dick?,” you asked unabashedly, “i’ve always wanted to, wanted to taste you,”

eddie was practically already close to exploding in his pants, and you felt the throbbing of his cock against your ass now that he’s fully hard. you were sure that a wet stain would be left on his light colored pajama pants.

“you can do whatever you want with me doll, i’m for your pleasure,” he said as he watched you slide back down between his knees, eddie spreading them so you had more room to lay between him, and you rubbed at the skin above the hem of his pants to admire the growing bulge that was asking for relief, pleading.

“you’re so fucking pretty, baby, can’t fuckin’ believe i could’ve had you since the beginning,” he said in a hushed voice.

you didn’t take long to drag his pants down to his ankles letting eddie kick them off as your eyes stayed pointed at his cock. it looked almost painful, for you and him. he was throbbing, his cock jerking against his abdomen. you salivated, looking at him as you grabbed his shaft at the base and softly stroked him lazily, looking at every vein, every little freckle, and the waay his slit dripped with beads of pre cum.

it was a sight to see. you heard eddie’s low moans as he sat up against the headboard, getting a view of you jerking him.

“you’re dick is so pretty,” you murdered as you watched your fingers tease his slit to use the precum as some sort of lubricant, massaging the head. he let you take full control of him, and the way he tries to buck into your fist made your cunt clench around nothing.

“baby, please,” he begged as you kept your lazy pace up. he was craving your mouth and before he could ask again, you directed his tip into your mouth to let your tongue swirl and play with the angry head.

“ah, fuck-shit,” he hissed, finally feeling your mouth envelop him entirely, not faltering when you tried to stuff as much of his as you possibly could. you hollow your cheeks as you sucked him gently twice, releasing him with a pop, and smiling.

he was focused on only you, not the laughter that came from downstairs, not the crickets singing outside of the window, only the way you went back down to take him in your mouth, reaching the back of your throat this time and gagging.

“my fuck- fuck oh my god,” he strained, letting his hands find your hair to get a better view of your face.

“so fucking good, taking my dick so well baby,” he praised and you moaned with your mouth still taking all of him, keeping the steady pace of bobbing, up and down his shaft with a hand wrapped around his girth, following the same motion of your mouth.

it was a euphoric feeling eddie had, to see his crush be the one to take, or try to take all of him. the girl he’d dream about, think about going down on, was laying between his legs playing with his cock like it is your favorite thing to do.

and slowly, it was becoming your favorite thing. your air was coming in through your nostrils as you cupped his balls, using the slobber that was falling down his cock to massage and fondle them as you flattened your tongue under the base of his shaft, forcing yourself to take all of him. he was trying to cover his moans with pants, but it wasn’t happening..

“fuck, just like that, you’re fucking filthy,” he said sitting up fully now so the top of your head was touching his belly button, still letting your drool and spit create a mess under your hands. you were loving this even when your jaw was crying, you liked being the center of attention for eddie.

you released him again with a long string of spit connecting from your lips to the head of his cock, sitting up on your knees to become eye level with him, still using the spit to jerk him. your grip tightened, loosened, and teased around his red tip to watch his buck, and jerk his body to you.

“need you to fuck me, please,” you asked politely, the spit still on your chin, your eyes watery and your nose a little runny. taking all of him was impossible for you, maybe with his help he’d be able to squeeze the rest of him down your throat to make room, but that was for another time.

eddie’s eyes were on yours, then back between your two bodies to see how your hand worked against him, he felt the heat building up in his stomach, feeling the strings snapping with every stroke.

before he could even release, he grabbed your wrist and halted your movements, using your vulnerability to flip you on your back, gripping your wrists beside your head.

“so you do want me?” he queried, and you giggled.

“no eddie, of course i don’t want you, i’m totally not soaking my panties right now,” you said unbelievably sarcastic as he moved to kiss your cheeks, your neck, licking your jawline and kissing you once more on your lips before he straddle you.

“you’re gonna lay there, your hands up just like this, and you’re gonna be a good girl and take it, yeah?” he shifted, his voice dark and his eyes pitch black as he grinds his naked cock into your thin shorts.

“eddie,” you pleaded, not wanting to keep your arms in the fixed position he held them in.

“need you out of these fucking clothes now,” he said and immediately yanked your shorts and panties down, moving to your shirt.

“take it off for me,” he encouraged and you did, reaching your tank and arching your back to get rid of it. he marveled at your complete nakedness, spreading your legs to situate himself between them. lifting your legs in the air while spreading them, eddie leaned back to take a mental picture of the way your pussy was dripping for him. slick sliding between the cheeks of your ass, over your hole and onto the bed sheets.

“this all for me? no one else?” he asked as he tugged on his cock, stroking himself.

“yes, you, only you, please,” you were bracing for the impact of his hardness pressing and stretching you out, but instead you felt the pads of his fingers trace down your tits, to your belly, to your fupa, and spreading the fat of your pussy lips to see all of you completely.

what he conjured up in his mind was nothing near the actual sight. it was breathtaking, the way your hair fell into a ring around your head, how your tits moved and jumped with every movement you made, the way your belly creased and curved with your legs mid air, the way your thighs looked so meaty with his inbetween. this was heaven, and you were god.

he watched you completely as he sat back on his achilles, your legs still spread for him like the good girl you were, and teasing your clit.

“i need to taste you,” eddie groaned, taking the wetness from your clenching hole up to your clit, rubbing smooth circles.

“eddie, no fuck, please i wanna be full, please,” you moaned, louder than you intended, “you’re just so fucking big, and fucking pretty i just need t’ feel you, need all of you please eddie, give it to me,”

he’d never seen you so fucking responsive, so vocal with him. he was remembering the way your voice dripped with urgency, and seduction. he couldn’t ever tell you no, even in circumstances of being fully clothed and feet away from each other.

“just a taste, please baby,” he bargained, too distracted with the way your cunt sounded as he plays with your pussy. he was teasing your hole at this point, threatening to let you feel the stretch of one finger until he got too impatient to wait for your answer. he quickly dove down onto his stomach, letting his arms hook around your thighs and latching onto your cunt like a fucking bottle.

“you-what the fu-, my god,” you tried to spit it out, but fuck his tongue swirling around your clit and the way his fingers kept your lips spread made you grind against his hand, moving your hands from where eddie told you to keep them and into his curly hair before he pulled up and landed a small slap on your pussy. he watched in enjoyment as it jiggled.

“what’d i tell ya, keep those fucking hands right there baby, be good for me yeah?” he breathed, going back down to lay on his stomach, arms hooked even tighter now. Your hands were thrown up above your head, gripping onto the edge of the bed to stop yourself from yanking his long hair.

“eddie, please, fuck,” you moaned out, the feeling of his finger inching inside you was a fucking tease.

“shit, didn’t know you’d be this tight for me, needa stretch you a little bit, that okay?”

“yes, fuck eddie it’s okay, just, fuck i need more,” you found yourself out of breath, eddie’s arm reaching from your thigh to toy with your nipple, watching every reaction he pulled from you.

“pretty fucking pussy baby, look at you, taking my fingers so good for me,” he continued with the praises, the small words as he released your clit to focus on the way you were sucking his fingers, your walls gripping him tight.

“fuck baby, cum for me, need to taste more of you,” he groaned, unable to help himself when his puts you back into the position of having your calves resting on his shoulders. until he folds you even more with his large hands, to where your knees are touching your shoulders, or at least as far as he could bend you to his preferred shape with your belly in the way. but he liked it, he loved seeing you so mendable for him, pushing your limits of how much you can take.

he wanted you to be pon full display for him, being able to see both holes shine with your wetness.he practically held your ankles bound together to push against your chest, going back down for the third time to watch your cunt spread for him like this, to watch how you leaked down to your asshole.

he licked a wide stripe from your clit to your asshole, licking and spitting on your tight hole to start rubbing his thumb to create a ring of spit on it.

“tell me you want me, princess,” he ordered, eyes trained on the sight in front of him.

“eddie i want you, fuck, fu-,” you breathed and tried to gasp for air, “need it,”

“so good baby, look at you holding those pretty legs for me, let me eat you right,” you didn’t even notice your hands went from the edge of the bend to your legs, holding yourself spread open just for him. If anyone walked in right now, they’d see everything.

the way you were laid for him made you wetter by the second, never being folded or manhandled this way, but as he grabs the cheeks of your ass to move and spread them, he spits on your cunt again and goes back to brutally assaulting your oversensitive bud.

that pressure on your spine was familiar, and the way you felt tingles spread from your inner thighs to the rest of your body, even your legs going weak as you struggled to keep your eyes on his. it was beautiful, mesmerizing even the way he ate your pussy. it was pornographic, the slurping and wet sounds were only growing louder as eddie shook his head, his ose rubbing against your clit when he goes to lick and fuck your hole with his tongue at the same time.

“i’m, cum, gonna-fuck eddie, im fuck-” you couldn’t even get it out before your eyes were clenched, your pussy pulsing and throbbing, pushing all of your release out of your hole where eddie was to lick up every drop.

the moans were eccentric, he’d never heard you this way and seeing you come undone because of him made his cock scream for touch. it was something he could listen to for hours, only wanting to finger fuck you and eat your sweet cunt just so he could listen to the little noises that made him feral.

“need to feel you sweet girl, let me fill this pussy,” he lets your legs fall from where they rested after you went slack during your orgasm, letting your feet plant on the bed bent at the knees.

“can’t fucking think when you’re looking at me like that, princess, do you want me to cum already?” he smiled, watching you watch him with pure adoration and desire, not seeing him as a freak or a lowlife.

he saw your softness in your eyes, soothing a part of him that has never been healed until now.

“please, eddie i want you to make me cum again,” you gasped, lifting your head a little to look over your stomach as much as you can, now letting your eyes lazily travel between eddie’s eyes and where he prodes your entrance with his tip.

he took pride in the way he made you feel, how you looked sweaty and cockdrunk already. he couldn’t get enough of your frizzy hair surrounding you, and the smell of your shampoo mixing with sweat.

“can’t believe you want me, you’re unbelievable,” he said, letting his cock slip between the fat of your pussy lips. he wanted to be covered in you, all of you.

“you’re so big, eddie,” you groaned, feeling his length slip back and forth between your wetness.

“you want it, baby? want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” he asked, his palm flat against the bed next to your head, gripping his manhood with the other.

“fuck eddie, yes i need it, need all of you fuck,” you cried, gripping thr back of his neck to lift your head a little, watching your hips try to pushed down on him.

“let me watch you take it, yeah? wanna see you stretch just for me, only for me,”

he sat up on his knees and spread your legs, lifting them to rest on his shoulders as he admired your glistening sex. every part of you felt like you were burning up, all of your nerves subsiding and turning into pure greed for him, your want stronger than anything else.

he pushed in slowly, softly, watching the fat head slip and disappear into your tight hole.

“holyfuckingshit,” he rushed, watching you take him with a little resistance. it felt like a sting, but spreading into pleasure when you feel his balls against your asshole, filling you up completely.

now, he pressed into your legs to fold you again, this time he was able to watch you and force you to see him as he ruined you for anyone else.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” he was out of breath already, the few slow strokes he did to the sound of your moans were to stretch you enough for him to lose control on you.

“so, f-, so fucking big,” you almost felt the wind get knocked out of you as you feel the loss of his warmth and length, only to be pushed back into you with more force. hitting the back of your cervix repeatedly, he was lazily smiling at the sounds you were making for him.

“oh baby, there you go, sound so fucking pretty for me,” he encouraged, letting his arms hook around your thighs for more leverage. he pushed you up a little further, almost bringing your chest to your chin as he pounded you harder.

“e-eh, fuck, eddie, s’ lot- it’s, oh eddie,” you cried watching him, grinning with an open mouth as he pants out groans and moans from the way you gripped his cock. felt better than anything and anyone he’s ever fucked.

“what, too much for my pretty girl? what happened?” he cooed, “thought you were, fucking hell, thought you could handle it,” he teased, taking your legs from his shoulders and using his hands to grip at your ankles, spreading further so that your legs are flailing in the air as he fucks you.

it was fucking intense. you couldn’t make sense of anything but him buried inside you, the way your cunt twitched and squeezed around him, and just how close you were to another orgasm.

“fuck, this pussy is mine.” he growled, gripping the fat of your stomach and waist, massaging, “always gonna be mine, sweet baby.”

“tell me, sweetheart . tell me whose pussy this is and i’ll, jesus fucking christ,” he was cut off by the clenching of your cunt, your hole rapidly pulsing as his two fingers dove down to play with your clit, rubbing in lazy fast circles.

“i’ll let you cum, tell me baby,” he urged and you tried to form the words, but nothing but sounds were coming out. the way your breasts jumped with every hard thrust, the way your fat jiggled on your thighs and tummy, how smooth and warm you felt under him, he was losing his mine.

not to mention your little sounds. the whimpers, the silent begging, the cries and gasps for air, it was going straight to his cock that was already starting to twitch from your eyes on him.

“it’s yours eddie, only you fill me up like this, please,” you finally mustered up the words, and you felt your own ball in your tummy growing bigger and bigger with the way you obsered eddie.

out of breath, his hair was clinging to his sticky face and his silver chains he never took off dangled above you. you watched as his muscles flexed and gripped the hard biceps when he pulled you in for an embrace, holding you as he fucked you.

your forehead rested against his right shoulder, peeking down to watch the sloppy mess between you grow wetter and messier. he looked down with you, pressing kisses into your damp hair and face.

“look at that baby, creamin’ all on my dick, my fucking messy girl,” he was aggressive, more aggressive than you’d ever seen him and so much more filthy than anyone could comprehend.

“look so good, fucking me,” you whispered, not even trying to get him to hear but he did. and he was encouraged by it, looking down again as he heard your labored pants in his ear. it was a beautiful sight.

your pussy lips enveloped him completely, letting his length reach the deepest parts of you over and over again. your arousal was dripping down your ass even more now that the two of your juices were mixing together, and forming a white-ish ring around his cock. and it just kept building with every thrust, sending your pussy to clench around him again.

your head was completely empty, nothing but the sensation of being filled to the brim over and over. it was incredible, and having already reached your peak once, to do it again was going to ruin you.

he was already ruining you, the way he turned so dirty so fast, how he spoke to you and watched you completely. he took all of you in as much as he could and let himself watch you undo beneath him.

“cum on my dick, baby,” he said, “pussy feels so fucking good sweet girl, don’t wanna fuckin’ pull out,” he sounded like he was slurring, and his fingers went faster on your overstimulating bud.

he felt the clench of your cunt at his words. “aw you like that? wanna be full of me? give you my babies?”

it was impossible not to scream no, tell him that mentioning babies was practically a threat to you, but the way he moaned those words as his hand went up to your throat just to grab a hold of you, and his other started to toy with your nipples.

“eddie,” you dragged, crying out with your back arching when you felt your buildup finally crash over him. you didn’t even need to tell him, he could feel it by the way you twitched and how you clenched so hard you practically pushed him out of you.

“fuck baby,” he said as he fucked your hole with his tip, the feeling of the curve and edge of the fat cockhead was a different sensation, and as he kept fucking you like that, slow and soft, you felt an oddity in your new buildup.

it was faster, stronger, and as he teased your hole with just his tip, you were cumming again, but this time it was wet. you could heard the small gush over his cock, coating him and his pelvic bone as he gleamed at the sight below him and feeling his own release starting to snap.

“fuck, eddie please, you fuck me so good,” you breathed as you pulled him flush to your chest, letting him still slip in and out of you lazily.

“fill me, please, fuck i don’t care i need it, mark me, make me yours. please, its your pussy please cum inside of me,” you whispered in his ear in a cry, scratching down his pale back as he moaned against you. the vibrations of his noises sent a tingle all over your body, your nipples hardening again.

the thought of eddie getting you pregnant was intense. for you at least, for eddie, he thought it was the best decision to ever make. of course he’d fill you up. why would he have the opportunity and not take it? he wanted everyone to see you knocked up with the freak’s baby, he wanted everyone to know even if you were too smart and too goddess looking for him, he had you.

it was even sending another pulse to your cunt, letting your weak and abused hole tiredly clench on his. you were losing your breath at this point, you’d never been fucked and pleasured like this ever, never for this long either.

he made sure to worship you, to cherish you, to make you feel sexy. he wanted to make you see what he saw, make you feel the way you made him feel. and this was it.

he was falling in love with you, the way he felt like you were made for him even now was pulling at his insides, pulling hard enough to finally let him still his hips inside of you and letting his cock twitch at the deepest part of your cunt.

“fucking, mine. my fucking pussy,” he groaned into your chest, your hands gripping in his hair and rubbing on his scalp.

“s’ yours, only yours,” you said softly as you felt his cock twitch even more, until he groaned and slipped out of you.

it was a new feeling, still feeling full even though all contact was lost between you two. still feeling warmth inside your cunt, until you felt the mixture of both of your releases leaking out of your hole and sliding down your ass. your eyes were closed after he got off of you, and you weren’t sure how he put on his clothes so fast but when the door opened again you saw him walk back in with a wet rag.

“baby?” he asked, craning his neck to see your face in the dark.

“mmm?” you hummed, still laying on your back after turning your head back to the ceiling.

“let me clean you up and we can go to bed, does that sound good princess?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed to separate your legs again.

you expected to feel the coldness of the rag, but you instead felt his fingers softly spreading your pussy lips apart and it sent a chill through you.

“look so good like this, fuck, i think i really truly want to die by your pussy. please?” he said, letting his finger dip his cum back inside of your whole.

“eddie,” you dragged, clenching your thighs together. he just smiled and chuckled a little.

“alright, lets get cleaned up and you can take my shirt,”

you lay there, trusting eddie as your eyes fluttered closed and felt him wipe between your legs and wipe your thighs, finding his shirt that he threw on a chair in the corner to bring back to you, but he already hears the soft snores coming from your body.

he shook you a little before you finally opened your eyes again and smiled sheepishly at him, before listening to his commands and following them, still half asleep.

all he asked was that you sit up and raise your arms, and he tugged the faded iron maiden shirt that was too big for him, but fitting just loose enough on you. before he could even pull the covers over you, still with your eyes closed, you gripped the blankets and pulled them over your bare legs up to your chin, and nestled into the softness.

eddie was a man who did his fair share of sleeping around, with all types of people, and he’s been with older, smaller, skinnier, taller, bigger. but being with you, watching you and being able to sleep next to you was a fucking blessing he didn’t deserve.

so he indulged in it, letting himself wrap you in his arms and holding you until you push him off because you’re too sweaty.

but you don’t do that. you let eddie hold you all night even after hardly any words were exchanged after. and in your dream that night besides dreaming about your future with eddie, was a dream of you thanking robin and steve for their ridiculously foul plan.

a ridiculous foul plan that worked.

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astrofhobia · 2 months ago

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Post-Mortem AU

It would be amazing to have a Tsams AU based on mexican culture, where real moments from the history of that country are interpreted... WAIT

PUM 💥💥 I'm here.

I started designing these guys again a bit, I didn't really like their first designs that much, but I definitely like these ones.

For now, we have three, the most important ones, within this messy story.

The Sun, The Moon and The Eclipse

I want to give a little information about these silly guys, also some fun facts.

Sunrise

Sunrise. Called "Life" in this AU. Life is the third child of the "Creator" and the youngest. His older siblings are Lunar and Earth. He was born when a star appeared in the universe, the brightest and largest star the universe had ever seen, for this reason, he is considered the god of light, the god of the sun.

His purity caught the attention of "Creator" and he proclaimed him as his son.

Life's arrival brought many changes to the universe. And thanks to him, he convinced the other gods to create things that would worship them, based on the perfection of his father. Life called them "humans" tiny humans who lived on a balanced planet, the Earth.

Sun brought mankind. And mankind called him "The god of the creation" "The god of the Sun" "The god of the life".

Sun used to rule the earth. That was for a long time... Until things started to go wrong, very very wrong.

Moondrop. They used to call her "Death" in this universe.

She was born when the first human died. The bones of that human had joined together into a sticky mass which had formed a body and finally, a consciousness. "Creator" didn't consider her a daughter of purity. But "Killcode" did, he proclaimed her his daughter, his little daughter.

She didn't usually communicate much with the other gods, she always, always kept her distance, in her own bubble.

She used to have a kingdom, "Mictlán", where the souls of humans could rest for eternity. The place used to be quite... Depressing. Souls rested... But the place was completely alone, filled with the bones of humans and only Death there...

Something you really should know. She's not here anymore.

Eclipse. Called "Death" in this AU.

War. It was his first name. He was born from Killcode's blood, the drops of red blood fell. They formed a large puddle. And from that puddle, War appeared.

Creator considered him a god... different. He really repudiated his existence. But Killcode didn't, he called him his son. His first son.

Nobody knows that. He just appeared one day with the other gods.

His arrival was controversial. The gods called him "A mad god"...

Actually, Death has forgotten most of his past. He doesn't really know how he existed, or why he is the "god of death".

Fun facts

Death has the same personality as Eclipse (EAPS).

Death (Eclipse) often has constant nightmares. Surrounded by fire as his metallic body slowly burns until he wakes up, locked in a room without light until darkness consumes him completely, bloodcurdling screams of children, etc.

Death's body parts constantly fail, they just stop working for no reason. It's something... really annoying.

Death feels nauseous at the sight of blood, he really can't stand it.

Death is uncomfortable being around a lot of children, he doesn't really know why. He is not bothered by noise, if they are dirty or naughty, he simply cannot be with children for a long time.

Death is the current prince/god of Mictlán.

Death doesn't like the rain.

Death and Life live together on Earth. They live like normal humans, in a lower-middle class house, they pay taxes and are afraid of the SAT.

Life maintains the same personality as Dark Sun (SAMS) but here it is a little calmer and much more depressing.

Life has a place to sleep. He literally has a bed that he shares with Death but the idiot can end up sleeping in a shower if he wants because he's a weirdo.

Life, ironically enough, hates humanity. No one knows why.

Life can't stand loud noise, make some noise when he's upset and you probably have a ticket to Mictlán.

If Life really had to work in the human world he would be a doctor. An emergency doctor, he practically created anatomy, he can work with this.

Life used to run a daycare alongside Death (Moon). It burned down.

Death really likes music with movement, salsa, cumbia, she's really good at that.

Death's clothing is inspired by the catrina and the traditional clothing of Nuevo Leon, Mexico.

Death hates fire.

Death really wants to stab Life.

The skull on Death and Death's chest isn't just decoration. It's practically their exposed cores. Rip that off their chest and they'll probably pass out immediately.

Death and Life are Pro-PRI. Life is ignorant. Death is evil.

Death is Pro-PAN. She really is a evil girl.

If you want to know more about these fools, you can ask, my inbox¿ is open

#Post-Mortem AU #fnaf eclipse #fnaf dca #fnaf oc #fnaf fanart #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #tsams au #Tsams #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show solar #eaps eclipse #esps #the eclipse and puppet show #eclipse and puppet show #tsams sun #tsams moon #tsams dark sun #astro's art

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buckgasms · 1 month ago

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Once upon a time - Kinktober

Hello!!!

Thanks to everyone who voted in my poll! The winner by far was 'Beauty and the Beast' so I will be starting with that one!

I will be writing some of the other popular ones too so don't despair if this wasn't your favourite!

I'm doing this in two parts because it's just too huge otherwise, so please enjoy and I hope to see you for the next part!

The village of Swanford had once been a prosperous village, lead by the Barnes family, who had not only made their fortune there, but had also been generous benefactors of the town.

But after the wars of Europe and the death of their patriarch, the family and the village had descended into disrepair.

The Barnes residence, once a shining display of wealth and fashionable architecture now stood, imposing and delapidated on the edge of town. It's owner, the reclusive James Barnes, was never seen in the village. Rumours swirled of a beastly nature about him.

Cruel and unkind, a monster returned from war, more metal than man.

You had little interest in the life of James Barnes and his sad house. Your life, and it's problems were far more pressing.

You lived with your father in the poorer part of the village, his health would ebb and flow, keeping him out of secure work, and much of the financial responsibility falling onto your shoulders at a young age.

Since you were able to, you took jobs wherever you could, sewing, serving and occasionally teaching at the local community school. That had been your favourite, but was naturally short lived.

One September afternoon you had been informed by the headmaster that you would no longer be able to work. They hadn't received their usual funding and could only afford two teachers.

You were devastated but swallowed your pain and smiled. Perhaps another year?

🥀

You had just finished a day of sewing that left your fingers red and throbbing, when your father burst in the front door.

"Darling, I've had an idea..."

You strained a smile. These were never the start of a good conversation with your father. As he approached you could smell the scent of liquor on his breath.

"The Barnes mansion... It must be abandoned now. No one's seen sight of the miserable lad for years..."

You shrug and raise your eyebrows. "So? What does that have to do with anything?"

He chuckles and pinches your cheek.

"Tonight... I'm going up there. There must be something I can sell. Then you can forget these silly embroideries and I'll buy you a lovely dress!"

Your stomach churns. Both at his idea and his painful misunderstanding of you and the situation you are both in.

"I don't think that's a good idea..."

But he's already flopped down on the bed, unconscious to your protests, a victorious smile on his sweaty, boyish face.

🥀

You woke in a start, not sure what made you so terrified in your dreams but feeling uneasy as you panted in bed.

It took you a moment to realise the usual sound of your father snoring was absent and that the front door was left ajar.

You groaned and scrambled out of bed, pulling on a shawl and a pair of worn out shoes. Perhaps you could catch him before he made it to the mansion.

In a few minutes you were out the door, surprised to find the early dawn light breaking. How long had he been gone? Your stomach churned again. A familiar feeling when dealing with your father's escapades.

You were panting and out of breath when you arrived at the gates of the Barnes' home. You shivered at the prospect of walking through the overgrown garden but a shout from inside the normally silent house pushed you on.

Ignoring the clawing branches and weeds that tried to trip you until you were at the big wooden doors. Before you could knock the door swung open and you were met with a huge man, hair and beard giving the appearance of something like a wolf and piercing blue eyes burning into you.

"Come for more stolen goods?" He growled as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into he house.

You cried out in protest until he released you, yanking you into a large parlour. There you found your father standing, looking terrified and sober. Beads of sweat were pouring down his face, and behind him a pile of shattered glass and porcelain.

"What did you do?" You strained as you walked to him, taking his hands in yours.

"He's a thief" a harsh voice spoke and you turned to face the owner of this dark, terrible home. James Barnes.

"His foolishness and avarice has cost me several hundred dollars in damages. Priceless family heirlooms, lost forever..."

You squeezed the eyes shut, hoping just briefly you might still be asleep, but you opened them again, finding yourself still in this nightmare.

"Sir, please forgive us. My father, he...he doesn't always make good decisions, but he means well. He was just trying to support us. It was a mistake..."

"So like everyone else in this village, it is someone else's problem to fix. Forget doing something useful, just hold out your hand and someone else will provide?"

You flinched at the venom in his voice. You had never once complained about your lot in life, it felt awful to be at the brunt of his fury. Despite your fear you step towards him, placing yourself between the two men.

"How dare you... As if you know what it's like to live in discomfort or poverty..."

At your words he holds up his other arm, heavy silver metal and scoffs. "I know something of living in pain....I just refuse to make it into anyone else's problem."

You blink. Shocked at both the appendage and his confession. The silence hangs heavily in the air for a moment.

"I will not let this go unpunished. This is my home and he has caused damage. I will have to report this to the police..."

You whimpered, knowing that this was probably your father's final strike. If he was arrested again, he would be sent away for hard labour. A sentence that would probably kill him.

Your father gripped your elbow and squeezed. "It's ok my love, it's what I deserve..."

You shook your head and approached James, dropping to your knees grabbing at his hands, both to his surprise.

"Please? If they arrest my father.. I'll never see him again. And.... He's all I have left. Please? There must be something else..."

Tears fell from your eyes, but you refused to break your eye contact, gripping his hands as hard as you dared. His face was unreadable, but you hoped there was a good man there somewhere.

"Very well. He can go home."

You heaved out a sigh, moving to release his hands, but instead he gripped you tighter.

"But you have to stay."

Ah perhaps not a good man at all....

You gasped and tried to escape his grip but he held fast.

"You will work off your father's debt to me. You will stay here so I know you aren't gossiping about me in town, or stealing from me. Once the debt is paid, you can leave."

He releases your hands and you scramble to your feet. You turn to your father, standing uselessly in the mess he has created. Your shoulders drop and you turn back to James.

"Ok."

🥀

Spending time in the Barnes household wasn't as torturous as you had envisioned. Bucky, as he preferred to be called, spent most of the day alone leaving you to your various tasks.

The house was a mess, so you were busy dusting, cleaning and tidying. You spent your first week in the kitchen, disgusted by the dirt and mouldy food you found there.

Each morning ready made meals were delivered and you would store and serve when appropriate. Around midweek you were handed three bowls of mushy oats, you recognised as gruel. It looked odd amid the rich soups, stews, bread and cheeses that were stacked next to it.

"Well this looks almost good a new"

His deep grumble of a voice made you jump as you were scrubbing dishes and made it slip from your hand, smashing in the sink.

"Hmm that must be another week's work at least" he chuckled, walking over to you, brushing past you to grab a drink of water.

You scowled and began collecting the shards to put in the bin. He leaned against the counter as he watched you work.

"There was some gruel delivered today. What's that for?" You asked briskly as he slipped slowly.

"Ah yes. That's your's"

You looked up at him and stared. The twinkle of amusement in his eyes was enraging.

"I have a proposal. If you would like to dine with me in the evenings, then we can share a meal. If you continue to eat alone, then it only seems right you should eat just enough to sustain you."

"Why would I wish you eat with you?" You tried to dial down the venom in your words, but he seemed unbothered. A simple shrug and a flash of a grin before he turned to leave.

"I'll leave it with you to ponder, Beauty..."

That was another thing. Despite the fact you had told him your name several times, he insisted on refering to you as Beauty. Perhaps it was some sick reference to a fairytale?

You were beautiful, despite your often disheveled appearance, but it felt more of an insult when he said it.

Either way, you were never going to share a table with such a brute. You were made of tougher stuff that just a bit of gruel.

🥀

By the weekend you were starting to break. The gruel was exactly as he said, just enough to sustain you, but not enough to make you feel good in any way.

Saturday morning came and he had a huge roast delivered, with all the trimmings. You groaned as you set it in the oven to roast for a few hours. It looked so good.

In the afternoon you had some time to yourself and decided to read, finding some of his books left lying around too hard to resist. You didn't care what you read, you just loved it. Losing yourself in a fantastic world, or learning about real life places that you would probably never see.

As you were learning about the rainforests of the Amazon, Bucky appeared, and you did your best not to react as he sat on the couch where you had curled yourself up.

"Dinner already smells divine Beauty. Are you sure you won't join me tonight?"

You closed the book slowly. "Why are you so persistant about me joining you? Servents don't normally dine with their masters..."

"I don't consider you a servant. You are working off a debt, yes, but I still consider you a guest of sorts. If we are to share a home, we could at least share a meal..."

You narrowed your eyes but your treacherous stomach betrayed you, growling loudly.

He chuckled. "That settles it. You must join me. Oh! I have another delivery coming this afternoon. It's for you..."

And with that he left with your rainforests.

🥀

A dress.

It was a dress.

No in fact it wasn't a dress. It was an entire wardrobe of clothes, fit for a woman of a far higher status than you. Annoyingly they were all to your taste and fit like a glove.

You were mortified to find he had also purchased undergarments and threw the parcel of lacy items into the drawer to ignore them for the time being.

You decided on a pale green dress for dinner, throwing it on and brushing your hair through before rushing down to the kitchen to dish up.

He was in his usual simple black trousers and loose white shirt that he always wore, making you feel a bit of a spectacle in your shiny new dress, but he complimented you in a way that felt genuine so you smiled and allowed him to serve dinner.

He was quite handsome, but he was hidden behind a thick scraggy beard and long lank hair. The beard covered scars that you noticed drifted down towards his chest, more on his left side.

His metal arm, made of some mysterious metal called vibranium was surprisingly nimble. Occasionally he would knock something with it but it was hardly the terrifying limb the rest of the village made it out to be.

His eyes were the most wonderful though. Glittering blue that seemed to change with his emotions. Sparkling with joy, or turning grey with his anger.

You wondered what he must have been like before the war. There was definitely a sense of humour there, gentleness and generosity. But like so many men of his time, the things he had seen and done had buried those attributes beneath a surface of blood, mud and pain.

You ate mostly in silence because you were enjoying every single mouthful of delicious food. It was heaven, and even as the cook, you had to admit that this was the best roast you'd ever had. He seemed similarly impressed, mmh-ing at each new bite. It was almost sweet.

Once the plates were clearing he poured you a wine and started probing you. He wanted to know about your life, everything....

You answered briefly and without inspiration until he asked you about books.

"Oh yes I love to read. My mother insisted I learn and I'm so glad I did! I'll read anything I can get my hands on!" You laughed and he smiled, cogs turning in his head.

"I used to teach actually, I loved it. But they had to let me go..."

"Why? That seems crazy?"

"The money. There wasn't enough. I don't understand how people could take funding away from a school. It's so selfish..."

He stopped smiling.

"Maybe these places should learn to save better, and spend more wisely..."

You eyed him. "Well how can they with nothing? Don't be so naive, just because you have enough. Life is miserable enough without more selfish people in the world."

He threw his knife on the table and stood up.

"I knew it. You are just the same as the rest of them... Just waiting for a handout."

You also rose, fire burning in your chest

"I have never in my life asked for anything. I have worked all my life, harder that I imagine you ever have! I think its about kindness. It costs nothing to be kind James. And I'll stick to gruel if this is what dinner with you looks like."

You tore from the room before he could throw another barbed word your way, slamming the door and running to your bedroom. You refused to shed a tear until the door was firmly locked, collapsing on the bed, wishing this would all just end.

You heard a door slam in the distance before more tears fell until you finally drifted off to sleep.

🥀🥀🥀

#bucky fairytale #kinktober #writing challenge #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine

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roseglazedlens · 4 months ago

Text

⦑ THE FUCKING DEAD ⦒ RESOLUTION [PART 5]

➠ series masterlist | ⏪part 4 | ⏩part 6 |

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓┇𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑┇𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐅𝐈𝐂┇𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 LEON S. KENNEDY / CARLOS OLIVEIRA / JILL VALENTINE / ADA WONG X AFAB GN! READER As the rescue team retraces footsteps of their MIA agents, they find out the virus is more than what it appears. Waiting to be opened like a pandora's box inside this eerie mansion. NOTES: 🔞18+ READERS ONLY - NO MINORS🔞 descriptions of blood, zombies, injuries, death, realistic dolls, virus, fire weapons, rotten food, and mould. mentioned pegging. many action elements, a little closer to the plot reveal. includes two minor oc's in the unit. written in chris and rebecca's pov (reader is mentioned, not present). 8.7 k words | reblogs appreciated!

EMPLOYEE QUARTERS – 3:02 AM.

Who knows since when, the front door entered by the last squad is bolted shut, windows on the first and second floor barred. Inspection around the perimeter reports none of the side doors can be budged. Except one, secretly veiled away through a narrow, overgrown path only accessible from the backstreet.

An inconspicuous door can be found at the end of the passage, made of the same stone brick wall attached onto the thick mahogany door, vines enshrouding the exterior.

Presumably, this is the employee’s entrance. Much less glorious than the fountain driveway view where an imaginary doorman invites you into the residence by the ten-feet-tall double doors. This entry desperately needs weeding; the door is worn, rusted metal handles and weak hinges signal negligence in maintenance for years.

Chris, leading in first with his impromptu rescue squad of six, pushes down the copper handle, and lets it swing out. Wood squeaks slowly until the hinges fully extend, thudding serenely to a stop.

From within, a hollow void. Not a sound, nor a creak to be heard from the blackness of the echo chamber besides the six footsteps. A cold chill like a woman’s breath blows onto their necks from the outside, slowly swallowed by the thick odour of mildew and mould.

Someone rummages for a light switch, clicks it, and clicks it the other way again. Power’s out, of course. Chris presses on his earpiece, and just as he thought, communication to the outside is already fizzing into distortions. There will be no one from the outside to rescue them once they venture into the thick of this freak house.

They turn on the flashlight attachment on their rifles for convenience. It’s going to be difficult navigating through the dark, and vital for the unit to err on the side of caution. Who knows what ambushes Arias had conjured for an unwelcomed surprise, knowing his guarded nature.

“Agent Chambers. Do we have location?” Chris asks.

“I can’t track our exact location until the GPS is fixed. But I can tell you that the unit should be around south-east of the mansion according to their last known coordinates, which is approximately… that way.” Rebecca draws out an old-school compass from her pouch and points towards the left side of the hallway according to her device.

“Thank you, Chambers.” Chris states blankly. Rebecca taps her head down to acknowledge once. The air is damp with bitterness, only felt between them.

The front of the entrance invites them to a mudroom with a wide nook sweeping along the broads of the wall. The inner wood panel is enveloped by speckles of mould; more than half of the hangers are still occupied. Chris traces a thin sheet of dust along a puffer jacket.

“Captain, take a look at this.” A thick Hispanic accent gravels out. The figure behind Chris is almost as tall as himself. His face concealed but his personality undeniable focused and direct. Chris vaguely remembers the man’s name through a rushed introduction, Gabriel, sent by B.S.A.A.’s South American branch as a gesture of goodwill.

Gabriel points to the vague darkness behind himself. Chris turns away from the racks, directed into the lounge room around the corner. It is adorned with modest furniture: a few couches, a television, openly connected to the kitchen, and long dining table.

Above the table, there lies a bitten sandwich with splotches of green mould, mugs drank only halfway and meals abandoned before they were done. Leaving the uncut vegetables, dairy, raw beef, as they were for the inhabitation of fungi.

Everyone in the room right now is grateful for Rebecca’s last-minute idea for the masks to give them some coverage for the stench.

“November 19. Tch, all the food had expired five months ago. What a waste, tch.” This voice is deeper in timbre than Gabriel’s with a tendency to click his tongue at any inconvenience. He must be the other assigned unit, Miguel.

“That week was the first A-Virus attack in the world.” Rebecca comments solemnly. Can there be such a coincidence?

“Whatever they had to do, they left in a hurry.” Chris glances around the room once more. What business could they have to evacuate so suddenly?

“A-Are they going to be o-okay?” Nerves are getting a hold of the rookie; the flashlight circle from Johnny’s rifle is visibly shuddering. “What if those m-m-monsters got to them?”

“Can’t be since there’s no struggle. Like they’d blipped in time.” Mike suggests the possibility by recreating the events with his free hand, even uttering a fainted pooof! drifting into the silence for sound effect.

“Nothing had been in and out of this place for a week. Whoever’s left might be starving.” Unless all the employees had left way earlier. But there is an aching dread in Chris’ gut that fears this may not be the case. Just like the other MIA agents who are somewhere in this lodging. There must be more to this story.

“Search for any survivors in the area and stay in line of sight. Don’t ever split up.” Chris orders, looking directly into the darkness of the narrow hallway beyond.

“Yes, Captain!” Five voices bark in response.

- - -

It feels like they had walked for an eternity, through a series of sharp turns, with no visual signs of the end, only mould growing thicker and thicker the further they venture. It was the same portrait, same console table, decorated by the same damned tablecloth over and over again.

On top of the white laced cloth, there is always a baby, barely three months old.

It shook Rebecca in the beginning until she notices the infant is completely still. It’s only a doll. A very realistic one at that, dressed from head to toe in pink and frills.

After what seems like the tenth doll, the discomfort in her brews whenever Rebecca passes by. She can’t help but notice how glassy their eyes, how those irises and pupils look too damn realistic. Like real human eyes, staring. Like it can cry. Every time light hits those pearly beads, whatever light the darkness can spare anyway, Rebecca swears the doll is looking directly at her each time. She wonders if she had gone crazy.

Perhaps it was one of Arias’ secret hobbies… like Arias’ pegging fetish she unfortunately discovered in the depths of a gossip forum. Hey, it’s not her place to say what a billionaire can or can’t do for recreation if it isn’t harming anyone… besides his own crack, maybe.

That took her mind off the creepy temporarily. Nobody else seem to mind, or if they did, they didn’t say a thing. Chris in particular—his mind never left the objective.

“Anyone home? This is B.S.A.A. We’re looking for survivors. Any survivors? Survivors, please show yourself.” Chris announces their presence at every door that meets him along the corridor, bellowing out to make survivors known of their rescue.

But only the echo of himself returns his call, corridor after corridor, room after room, in the humble living quarters that is nothing more than a bunk bed and two desks. Not a soul nor a zombie in sight. But they haven’t given up yet. There is still plenty of the mansion unexplored.

The next door they encounter is different, standing out prominently against the rest with its steel surface, while the rest mahogany wood. And despite this whole area already zoned off from general access, a sinister sign on top warns that this place is off limits to even most employees.

The six of them look at each other and decide silently in unison to investigate inside.

LABORATORY – 3:17 AM

Chris is the first to enter the laboratory, stepping inside the darkness without hesitation to encourage his subordinates to follow suit without fear. Some sticky sensation is caught between their soles, leaving their every footstep. Mike notices first, and he aims his flashlight onto the ground.

Blood red pools, splattered across the bleached tiles in trails like spider lilies, painted across white coats of motionless bodies only several feet away from them… fifty of them. Beyond that, a daring splash of struggle across the mighty propane tank hulking over the centre of the laboratory.

Rebecca winces at the sight; her first time witnessing such a bloodshed. Chris notices, bringing a step forward to shield her from the sight.

“What the fuck happened here…” Chris growls. Before he can take another bloodied step, he hears someone making a retched groan.

It was Johnny, tightening his vocals to hold back a scream, but instead, it erupts into a high pitch shriek of fear instead.

The bodies react to the sound, starting to move. At first, only slight like the trick of an eye. Then, the torsos rise in isolation, head turning slow almost 180 degrees, eyes affixed on the intruders. Their skin ashen grey, veins and arteries pop out freshly, where the stench is the most putrid here.

All six soldiers ready their rifles. Avoiding big movements, slowing their limbs backwards to the way out. The zombie hoard of many dozens in front of them matches their pace, unsure whether friend or enemy.

Something falls. Slipping away from Rebecca’s back pocket, a metallic cylinder case—long and thin, that a ballpoint pen will fit perfectly inside. It crashes onto the floor, a light thud. But in the quiet room with nothing but hostile hisses and crackling of bones, the zombies pounce at the same time at the sign of confirmation.

Gunshots fire, without restraint, bullets whizzing across the room, taking aim. Shots pierce into the desaturated skin, but no blood manifests from those wounds. The water source that pumps into their hearts had dried up a long time ago. Even bullets hitting directly into the skull merely stuns them temporarily, and they rise back onto their feet in no time.

The unit is very effective and spares little ammunition for the unnecessary—but they are solely six humans in an army of undead. They can’t hold them off forever. If they are cornered, that’s it.

Rebecca, however, has her eyes set on something else instead of the massacre in front of her.

My case…. Where is my case! She thinks as her eyes dart around the ground in desperation, between legs and fallen bodies. Something shiny under a chair peeks out in the corner of her eye.

There it is! Despite every fibre of her gut opposing her, Rebecca advances further inside to retrieve it at all costs. She doesn’t dare to stray her eyes away from the container, fearing it will escape her again. Someone kicks it; the metal leaps and rolls near the lab console next to the large cylinder tank.

She makes her way over and tries to lay her rifle on top of the console. It slides due to its slanted surface, so she leans her rifle against the tank for support.

Some of Rebecca’s right palm brushes the metal sheet, and immediately, a stinging heat like a million thorns set her hand ablaze. She flings her arm away, winces, and notes the parts of skin that contacted the tank is patched red with small cysts forming.

The propane tank can easily fit 200 gallons inside. With closer observation, she can hear the flow of water bubbling, churning in its mechanism, pushing out steaming sounds. Rebecca notes that the tank is connected by ductwork.

“What’re you doing, Rebecca!?” Chris explodes, and Rebecca jolts in place, bringing her consciousness back to the present where she remembers they are amid a zombie attack.

She plants her entire body flat onto the ground, detecting the cylinder stuck under the console through a thin gap. The console isn’t secured to the floor, so Rebecca tries budging it to no avail. It’s too heavy.

Rebecca shoves her arm into the gap; her fingers slid in successfully, but it’s stuck on the protruding bone of her wrist. She outstretches her fingers, the tip of it almost reaching the roundness she is seeking. She just needs a bit more distance.

“Rebecca! Out, now!” She can hear Chris warn from afar. “This is an order!”

“One second!” Rebecca thrusts in a bit harder, and a bit more of her wrist enters at the cost of rough friction scratching her wrist bone. Her nail catches it, and she rolls it underneath the pads of her fingers. Now she just needs to lea…

……Wait. Wait, wait, wait. She can’t leave. Her wrist is jammed. Rebecca can’t take it out even if she uses her entire body weight to lean against the pull. Her face is still planted and vulnerable.

Danger is advancing ever the closer. She can hear it even if she can’t see it. The irregular beats of staggering footsteps increase in volume, snarls getting curious. It won’t be long before she is discovered. But what other choice does Rebecca have now?

As if a sign from above, dim light starts to creep under the table as it lifts, freeing her wrist. Rebecca grabs the case securely into her hand and pulls it back.

Right behind her is Chris, forearm muscles pulsing in tension as he hoists the entire console, slamming it face first onto the two zombies eyeing at them both. They tumble backwards and groans.

Chris’ face darkens with rage, grabbing Rebecca’s shoulder around his arm as if to caution her reckless behaviours, and commands: “You. With me. Now.”

Rebecca, simply glad that she is still alive, nods and lets Chris pull her up in one forceful motion. As soon as Rebecca’s weight is back on her feet, he pushes her along with both arms, propping the rifle under his right arm, tunnelling his vision to the exit. But zombies are visible from all four corners. They are surrounded.

Abruptly, a cold arm wraps Chris from behind, ensnaring the captain in place to serve him on a platter to its zombie friends. Chris squeezes the rifle closer to his sides, and with the strength of his entire triceps, thrust the blunt edge of his bump stock into his assaulter’s torso. He can hear bones cracking, weakening, enough to free Chris of its tight grasp.

With practised ease, Chris adjusts his finger swiftly to the trigger; other hand over the handle in under a full second and fires at the next target leaping his way.

Rebecca wants to help Chris too. She presses down an empty space on her back. She had left her rifle next to the tank still. And now, the HK416 is idly resting behind five limping enemies with no intentions of letting her pass by.

That rifle is practically gone as far as she knows, so she unholsters her back-up pistol, her trusty Samurai’s Edge, tailored to her own needs and got her through thick and thin.

Rebecca knows she isn’t as much of a good shot as Chris is, lacking in almost a decade of combat experience behind Chris, but she kept up a fair deal of gun training and hand to hand combat during her research years for emergency purposes. And now, those skills are coming in handy.

Her shots are careful, only decisive ones of enemies that come between her way to the exit. Always looking over her blind spots in wariness because Rebecca knows one bite from a zombie is all it needs to take her out. She can’t be messing around here.

A zombie leaps directly into Rebecca as she heads checks, baring its fangs and curling its squirming fingers. Too close for a shot, she raises her arms to a block, tossing them aside when the pale hands advance closer to her neck. The nails are sharp, clawing into Rebecca’s skin as she shoves them away. Rebecca front kicks the thing away, and while it stumbles, gave her the perfect opportunity to take out its head in a burst shot.

But no matter how many enemies the two fended off, the path becomes more and more obscured by zombie heads and limbs, leaving no room for breath besides defending their own.

Gunshots other than their own starts firing around them. The other four comrades are clearing the way while guarding the exits.

“Captain! Rebecca!” Mike cries out.

For a brief second, a window of opportunity surfaces, and their eyes catch sight of the clear line of exit between them and the zombies.

“Run! Just run!” Chris’ voice thunders over the gnarly crew of zombies.

But Rebecca didn’t need instructions for this one. They dash straight for the door, and when they passed, they didn’t stop either.

The others did a head start, already racing away; Chris and Rebecca eventually joining them at the end of the line, with Chris slamming the steel door in their enemies’ faces before he leaves. It will slow them briefly, but that won’t last forever.

The six of them sprint along the corridor, and a loud clang penetrates the air. Zombies had destroyed the entire metal door itself, following right behind, trying to overtake each other, despite the narrow width of the hallway that fits only two people side by side.

The hoard collides and tramples on each other, but their chase is relentless, showing no mercy until each and every one of their prey is devoured. Closing in distance, an inch at a time, but slowly and surely catching up to inevitable fatigued limbs of humans.

“W-We’re not going to make it, Ca-” Johnny, coming first in the sprint, sobs, but he isn’t allowed to slow down no matter even if his heavy backpack weighs him down, no matter how deep his leg sores. The sudden brake will trip everyone behind him, toppling his captain and colleagues together. And it will be all because of him. He can’t stop.

Chris can hear the stomping footsteps grow louder; he can feel it on the floor too, the wooden boards quaking in fury from withholding such strength and speed in the tight path. He turns his head, and the outreached arms of the zombies are within a few feet away from his own neck.

Chris had to think fast—no, don’t think. More time thinking means less action. They’re quickly approaching the end of the hallway several yards away, and beyond that darkness. It can be a dead end too, what then?

Till he hears a chime.

Tick, tick, tick.

He sees it. A grandfather clock propping up on the side of the wall, right before the cloud of darkness. Chris can use that.

First, it was Johnny who made it to the other side of the clock. Then Miguel, Gabriel. Then Rebecca. Then Mike. And when it was Chris turn, he spins his body 180 degrees, meeting the hoard eye to eye.

He claws all ten of his fingernails onto the intricate engravings into the heavy wood. With a heavy shove, pulls the entire seven feet tall clock sideways to barricade the corridor.

All can hear the break of the bell when it crashes and the mechanism within fails. The hourly melody starts playing abruptly in malfunction, failing its fundamental ability to read the current time. Only the crooked and solemn tone resonates throughout the hollow vicinity.

That won’t be enough. They can still crawl underneath, between and over the gaps of the wood. Chris readies aim between the gaps, waiting for the zombies to peek through.

But Chris can’t see any heads. Or any movement, matter of fact. They freeze at the call of the chimes, and after a few seconds, their bodies retreat. Over the gap, Chris can see zombies with their backs turned, returning into the darkness of the hallway once more like they were never there in the first place.

There is a moment of silence, first. A moment to catch their breath. But this moment doesn’t last when Chris storms towards Rebecca, grabbing her forearm, forcing her to take a backwards a step.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You coulda died!” Chris seethes with a face of pure rage; everyone clenches their fists in fear.

“C’mon now, Capt. Go easy on her.” Mike tries to stand between Chris and Rebecca, a valiant attempt to diffuse Chris’ temper, but is unsuccessful.

“No. There’s no need.” Rebecca assures him. This is something between her and her captain. Her own accountability she had decided to take on herself.

“Would you like to explain yourself?” Chris asks, his tone abrasive.

“It was important.” She tries to brush aside the issue. Rebecca can’t tell her about the metal case, not yet. He will be too protective about it.

Chris takes one big step to close the gap, she can feel the heat from his eyes scorching her.

“Chris! I need you to trust me on this!” Rebecca pleads, though it doesn’t provide the clarification Chris wanted at all.

“That’s Captain Redfield to you!” Chris roars, and all sounds turn still.

He pauses, immediately regretting his words and tone. Once again, Chris gazes directly into her eyes that displayed only sincerity. This isn’t like the open book personality Chris knows of her. Something is up. Something Rebecca doesn’t want to share. He can’t push her—what kind of person will that make him?

Only his final thought reaches her ears. “More important than your own life?”

The room turns silent. Rebecca’s answer says a lot without saying anything at all.

The grip tightens on her arm, and Rebecca flinches. This is when Chris sees the state of the arm he is grabbing—secondary burns, bruised wrist, and strips of fresh blood free-flowing from both arms.

“…Get her fixed up.” Chris releases the arm gently, so it doesn’t fall too hard, releasing out a heavy sigh that sounds older than his years.

“Roger, Captain.” Johnny lets down the backpack of supplies with relief.

“Anyone else injured?” Chris queries the group, significantly calmer since his reflection. He casts his eyes over everyone, deliberately avoiding Rebecca’s.

“I think I broke my foot.” Gabriel was running fine before, but after the adrenaline had died down, he begins to feel every pain on his leg. He now staggers and the injured foot is hovered slightly.

“Let me have a look.” Rebecca gets down onto her knees to examine the foot. She advises him to roll up his pant leg. The spot is swollen red and soft, and it flinches when touched. Rebecca asks him to move his ankle: he can’t.

“It’s a fracture. You might not be able to move your leg for a while.” Rebecca pats herself up. “Ice would be ideal here but nothing we can do now. There are some bandages in the first aid. That should help with the swelling.”

“Alrighty, I needa resupply anyway! Those zombies took quite a few mags.” Mike is already three magazines down in his front pouch.

Rebecca needs a resupply too; there should be spare rifle in there for emergencies. Her Samurai’s Edge is reliable, but she needs something stronger if she wants to survive the rest of this journey. She can’t risk turning back and aggravating the zombie hoard once more.

The fresh face unzips the backpack, reaching in. Initially, puzzled, then slowly morphs into the face of horror. His calm searching turns into frustrated shuffling, emptying out the contents of the bag one by one.

Lying on the ground are bags after bags of military rations, counting to fifty bags. After a while, he gives up. Everyone is fully aware now of his royal fuck up. Johnny had picked up the wrong backpack on his way in.

“Come on, rookie! You had one job!” Gabriel starts yelling, losing whatever composure he had just a moment ago.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, sir!” repeats Johnny’s brittle apologies, fists trembling.

“Qué pinche pendejo eres… tch.” Miguel grumbles to himself, and as an act of self-comfort, massages his hand with each other and feeling the wedding ring on his hand.

“You motherfucker!” Gabriel tries to rise, and almost trips over his broken ankle when he finds it unsteady. Johnny rushes in to support him.

“Mind ya business!” Gabriel flails his arms at the poor child, before lowering himself down slowly through a strained grunt. “I’ve got a fucking broken leg here ‘cause of you! You shoulda be glad I can’t whoop your ass right now! Once this foot is working again, you’ll be sorry!”

“It’s not that bad, really…” Mike tries to console, but this time, it’s more a desperate attempt for self-reassurance.

“Stay out of this, American.” Gabriel snaps back.

“Enough. Both of you. We’ll find a way out of this.” Chris interrupts before things escalate too far.

“Tch. And what do you suggest, Captain?” Miguel scoffs.

There’s no point in changing what can’t be changed. They can only adapt to what they have not. Be it without supplies or ammo. There is always a way around, if it means taking things slow or conserving ammo for their future fights. However…

Chris peeks at Rebecca’s arm. Her skin is turning white from blood loss. She needs first aid, ASAP.

“Let’s look around. Maybe there are supplies.” Chris says.

“There better be. This leg’s not gonna fix itself.”

KITCHEN / LAUNDRY – 3:39 AM.

Johnny had offered to carry Gabriel, but he refused without sparing a glance at the rookie’s face. But he didn’t complain when Miguel haul him instead, all whilst announcing their passive aggression about incompetent American soldiers and how they can only trust each other.

Meanwhile, Chris is focused on getting problems solved than whining about them. There must be a weaponry, maybe medical supplies somewhere in this damn fancy house. If only he can figure out how this foreign layout works.

The end of the corridor spreads out into a large open space, giving them much needed room to explore and not bump into each other shoulder to shoulder. There is a kitchen if they continue straight, enough to fit an army of private chefs with a glass room of wine display proudly to the side.

And towards the right, there is a laundry room. Beside it, a door that hangs a sign: [STORAGE AREA]

Hopefully they will find what they need here.

STORAGE ROOM – 3:41 AM.

For a storage room, it is quite spacious. Cardboard boxes stack high to the ceiling around the room, labelled with its contained items: [CLEANING], [MEDICAL], [AMMUNITION]. They look around potential hiding spots for zombies: there is none. It seems like they are safe for now. And for that, the unit is relieved.

“Alright. Let’s get you fixed up.” Rebecca immediately starts rummaging through the medical drawer. Miguel carries and rests the injured onto a large cardboard box for his treatment, then finds himself in the ammunition box.

This detour is much welcomed by everyone. After restocking what they need, hope has returned—whatever they can afford in the present state of things—uncoiling the tension brewing inside each of the soldiers. Chris can even hear Mike’s good-humoured banter ripples a warm laugh through Gabriel and Miguel. And Johnny is chattering next to them.

Chris relaxes his guard too, finally, for the first time today. As captain, he is always expected to be one to straighten his subordinates. And he does. Sometimes even at the cost of having his emotions get to him. Like just now, with Rebecca.

Sometimes, what the team needs is not just a guy yelling at their faces, but rather someone with Mike’s charm, or Rebecca’s friendliness to light up the room and boost squad morale.

Which Chris appreciated them for—doing the things he can’t do as captain. As captain, he must always remain a respectful distance from his team. He is the most senior member of the squad and must act that way even when situations are dire.

That got him thinking about his old team, still nowhere to be found, where their long history of acquaintance allows the lines of authority to blur. Many of those missions with them are often exchanged with laughs…

Chris bumps his arm onto a table beside him. Atop lays a vintage typewriter, a piece of paper is stuck to it.

It has been an unspoken protocol between S.T.A.R.S to document their adventures on the go, in case an accident occurs, so their stories are remembered and not forgotten. That ritual followed Chris and his team into B.S.A.A. He picks up the note; the ink is still very faintly lukewarm.

To whoever is reading this,

There is something really creepy about this mansion. It’s just too dang quiet. Where on earth is everyone? I know that Arias should be on a plane to a different continent now, so nobody’s home but—

“…Ch-.” A voice can be heard in the air while he reads; he pushes the sound out to focus.

…But I feel a chill down my back. If you’re in this room now, ge—

A heavy hand slams onto the table, winces, then goes back on the table again. The entire forearm is bandaged, and the palm is wrapped in some translucent cling film.

“Chris! I’m talking to you.” Rebecca taps her foot impatiently.

“And I heard you. You don’t have to say my name twice.” Chris looks at her for a second and brings his eyes down back to paper, reading between the blurred lines. “I saw you were tending to Gabriel when you were in a much worse state. You should prioritise yourself first.”

“I actually called you three times!” Rebecca clicks her tongue, crossing her arms now.

Chris shrugs. Rebecca continues when she realises he isn’t going to say anything else.

“I can take care of myself, don’t worry, captain.” She utters the word captain with much disdain that it irks his eyebrow slightly.

“Suit yourself.” Chris pretends to read, but Rebecca is still staring intently, so he asks: “How can I help you, Chambers?”

She picks the paper out of his hands, and declares: “Maybe we should address the elephant in the room.”

“There is nothing to discuss.” Chrisfolds his arms to match hers.

“Clearly there is. Or you wouldn’t be ignoring me.” Rebecca’s voice comes out a little louder than it should, sounding throughout the room as everyone peeks at the duo. Chris doesn’t need an audience for their petty drama, lest appearing unprofessional to his own personnel.

“Let’s talk outside.”

The two promptly walk to the exit, with Rebecca behind Chris so he can’t escape. They leave the room, facing the wet laundry, as Chris closes the door behind him to avoid prying ears.

“Alright, talk then.” He begins, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.For a man like Chris, he can be cold when he is upset. Even among his close ones. But there is still a bit of warmth in his voice, a bit of unspoken openness to listen. But for Chris to be convinced, it is still highly dependent on what Rebecca says next.

“Hey- I just want to say.” All of a sudden not knowing where to start, or when. After trying to get Chris to make peace with her all day, she finally has his attention. But when the moment comes, Rebecca is lost for words. Stuck behind her throat and tongue ice frozen.

“I know you don’t want me here. Putting my life in danger.” says Rebecca quietly.

“Like I said, you are free to do what you want.” Chris deadpans. “…And you did. What’s done is done.”

“Hey, don’t give me that. C’mon, Chris. You know it would be better if I was here. I know this virus better than you do. I’ve been researching this for months, and- and- you know my radio won’t reach you in here with the signal jammed.”

“Everything beyond these doors are unknown territory. Did you forget five of our best agents went MIA here?” Chris releases one long, arduous breath.

Rebecca is silent. She hasn’t forgotten, will never forget if the agents are dead—but doing anything is better than doing nothing. She will rather put her life at risk than the waiting game just to be told her friends are dead. “Yes. I know that. But you need me here.”

“And what I need most, is for you to be safe.” Chris places both hands firmly on her shoulders, sighs, and lets go.

Chris admits; there is truth in her words. The virus is alive, a living subject. They must tread carefully. And who else knows about this virus better than Rebecca? She may be the means of life or death.

“We are still a team. We watch each other’s back. We trust each other.” Rebecca hesitates for a moment, then continues. “…Just like S.T.A.R.S, the good old days.”

Chris tries to push away the betrayal from the back of his mind and focus only on the good parts of the memories. But it didn’t work. The clockwork of life kept running, wondering if the same fate will happen to him once more.

Trust? How long has Chris trusted someone? Put his life on the line of other people’s desires, capabilities? How many people have died trying? When has that ever worked out for Chris? He knows that the only person he can rely on saving himself and others is his own self.

Abruptly, his thought process is interrupted by cheers cascading from the other side of the door. Chris opens the door, and Rebecca’s curiosity peeks inside.

The crowd is cheering at Miguel, passing around bottled water around the circle. In this house trapped with years’ worth of heat, rotted smell preserved in humidity, water is a found treasure to these men. Especially after the laborious sprint earlier, they can feel half of their bodies’ liquid lost, throat turning dry and lips crackling.

Rebecca recalls her discovery about the water supply. She remembers warning the crew about this. Yet through the corner of her eyes, she sees Gabriel cracking open the bottle seal, shimmying his mask out the way, his lips touching the lip of the plastic bottle.

“DON’T DRINK THAT!” She yelps, as loud as she can possibly muster.

And everything happened all at once.

STORAGE ROOM – 3:57 AM

Gas starts to sizzle into the room through tightened air pressure, escaping rapidly into the space. Engulfed in smoke, Rebecca clutches onto her mask, hoping that the cheap material will be sufficient. At the minimum providing a bit of resistance before they remove themselves from the smoke-filled room.

“Squad! Make your way to the exit!” Chris orders.

Chris and Rebecca guide the team out one by one. Individuals start shuffling out of the mist from within. Johnny comes through first, then Mike, Miguel, and Johnny.

“Captain!” Johnny cries, pointing a wobbly finger into the puffs of smoke. “He’s still…”

Faintly from the haze, a figure manifests, sprawling on the floor. It grunts in fear, choking and coughing with arms extended.

“I… I can’t move! My… my leg…” His facial features slowly uncover from the smoke, and there is Gabriel desperately dragging along his broken foot towards the door. The injured had completely slipped Chris’ mind. He needs to get him out of there, now.

Chris pushes himself inside, but Mike grabs him before his foot makes its way in. Mike utters in grave realisation: “He’s unmasked.”

“I swear to god I’m alright! I swear on my life!” Gabriel cries even louder, swallowing a lump of smoke into his chest, and he chokes. “I didn’t drink the water!”

“Captain… what do we do?” asks Miguel, voice softening in desperation. He knows the answer to that question, but Miguel refutes that option, denying it like a child in the face of loss. “Captain! What do I do?”

Chris does not say a thing, nor it is his place. This farewell is reserved between him and his friend. Then afterwards, Chris must do what must be done.

“Miguel… ¡No me dejes aquí!” They can barely hear Gabriel’s sobs over the continuous hissing, louder through time, breaking free of the closed room to contaminate the air outside too.

That is, until Rebecca cuts in: “It’s not too late. The gas is useless by itself, as long as he didn’t drink the water. He’s going to be fine. But we shouldn’t risk it… Just in case.”

“Fuck this, I’m not leaving him there.” Miguel sprints past Chris and Mike into the white without looking back. They try to grab hold of him before he does anything reckless, but Miguel flings them away. “I’m not leaving him behind. We grew up in the same town. Enlisted together. Same squad for years. I’m not letting him go now.”

Miguel searches inside the fog, and finding the lightly conscioused Gabriel quivering with his chest on the floor. Miguel hauls Gabriel’s body weight onto his own.

“We’re getting out of here alive, Gabito.” Miguel swings an arm around his friend’s shoulder, pulling Gabriel’s feeble foot upwards and lets his torso limp over himself.

“Tch c’mon, haven’t we been through everything already? I’ve seen you worse when you broke your arm and ribs.”

“I remember that. You carried me all the way back to camp just like this.” Gabriel speaks with a mellow voice in reminiscence. Miguel can hear something clicking its throat, sinisterly gargling the air. Miguel pauses to look around, there is no other presence. Right, he already checked the room. It’s safe. So, he continues forward.

“And we will get through this one too. Your abuelita will be heartbroken if you’re gone. I can’t do that to her.” They are approaching closer to the ray of light at the end of the door. Gabriel falls to his side.

“Hang on, man! I’ll get you out of here. You can trus—”

Rebecca hears a clack, the sound she recognises to be bones snapping in half. She can’t see where Gabriel and Miguel are, with the fog blurring her sight. The vague silhouettes that can be seen before are now gone.

She leans in, peeking into fuzziness, but Chris’ arm moves in front of her, blocking her from getting any closer. He, too, is cautious of the sound.

“What’s taking them so long?” Mike calls out their names but there is no response from the other end. “That’s it, I’m heading in.”

“Mike, wait!” cries Chris.

Mike steps inside, warily inspecting. When he lifts the other foot, he almost trips. “What the—?” He shifts his leg around some more.

“I can’t move my foot!!” Mike’s shrieks are like little girl squeals throwing a tantrum. He wiggles back and forth to readjust balance with all his might. “Eek! Some slimy shit’s holding me down!!”

“Get it off me, get it off me!” The three of them attempt to pull Mike out and the foot lifts into the air. As if noticing the traction, the mist yanks Mike’s leg backwards. “Fuck shit fuck fuck!! Lord have mercy!!”

What is this power? How can it be this strong? There shouldn’t be anyone else in the room, Chris had already done all the check spots. The only people still in the room are just Gabriel and Miguel. What happened to the two of them anyway?

Mike had enough; he pulls out his handgun and shoots at the general direction of the force. The strength loosens, and they can see the whole foot now and the mysterious force dragging him back.

A bloody hand fastens around Mike’s ankle, fingers tightening sturdily around the soft skin. Another hand appears abruptly and secures right above the other hand. It has a different complexion, a silver coated wedding band over its ring finger. This is Miguel’s ring.

Something can be heard from within the fog, distinctly Gabriel’s voice.

“Mike… we’re having a party in here. Come join us!” The cheerful tone sends goosebumps rushing down Mike’s back.

“Shit! It can talk!?” Chris tries to pull the leg again, but it’s planted to the floor.

“It’s okay, Mike. Let’s have a lot of fun!” This doesn’t even sound like Miguel, but it is his voice.

There’s a bullet hole through its palm from Mike’s shot. It bleeds all over the other hand, still able to grab persistently despite suffering from such a wound.

“No, no, no! This… This isn’t supposed to happen!!” It shouldn’t be possible for the virus to activate only on gas alone, Rebecca was confident about this. It was one of the key implementations of this virus for its remote activation.

Yet the impossible is right there in front of her, the evidence of the vein-popping, skin-crackling bloody hand lay bare contradicting her every hypothesis.

Mike’s foot stumble further backwards, his hamstring swallowed now. The shrieks are turning into despair, losing his childish tone, becoming more pleading, demanding.

Chris draws his dagger from his holster and stabs straight down into the mist, briefly missing Mike’s foot and directly into both palms, skewering the two hands together. Both hands let go simultaneously, withdrawing into the white once more.

“Now!” Chris orders, and the four of them backs away from the entrance, with Chris slamming the door shut behind. He secures the door with his entire back, feeling the full force of banging. He growls out: “Barricade!”

Rebecca, Mike and Johnny shuffle around, dragging a table, cabinets, chairs—anything heavy to prop in front of the door. Chris stuffs the tiny door gap with vintage draperies to confine the poisonous air, taken directly from the curtain racks itself.

Whatever that is left of Gabriel and Miguel can still be heard snarling, clicking their throats, gargling air beyond the closed door. Occasionally muttering to themselves, pleading the rest on the other side to open the door ever so slightly with their gentle persuasion.

LAUNDRY – 4:06 AM

“I thought I was dead meat for sure.” Mike leans against the other side of the wall, checking his own foot. There is a purple bruise on his skin, but his ankle moves freely. All his joints are fine; nothing is twisted. “Thanks, you guys.”

Rebecca and Chris nods.

“So we lost two, huh…” Mike dry laughs at the situation, even when there is nothing funny going on right now.

There is another moment of silence as each of them thinks about their own fate in this mansion. With their numbers dropped by a third, their chance of survival is looking rather slim.

“Hey, if it helps, I never like those two anyway.” Mike tries to break the suffocating atmosphere with some humour, before a voice that had been quiet for a while suddenly speaks up.

“Gabriel and Miguel wouldn’t have died if he didn’t get false info.” utters Johnny.

“You, rookie?” Mike stops to eye Johnny up and down, who is currently sitting right next to him, with his hands and definitely his ass clenched too. “Defending the guys who yelled at your face?”

“It was ‘cause of my own fuck-up.” Johnny clenches his own fist, guilt dripping through every word. “They shouldn’t have died regardless.”

“In this line of work, people die.” Chris states. It’s a matter of fact. They all knew what they signed up for. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Even so… If they did know about the gas, they would have been alive. At least, Miguel would have been!” Johnny stares directly at Rebecca for responsibility.

When confronted directly, Rebecca hesitates, she knows the blood is in her hands. “This… This is also news to me too… I have read the reports multiple times, there is no mention that A-Virus is capable of such transmission. It doesn’t match up to the research.”

“What if the report was a plant?” Johnny asks. “Arias sent fake data to your email.”

“It can’t be. Each transaction requires a single use security token to grant access to my private cloud storage. This token can only be authenticated via fingerprint recognition. So Leon must have sent the files himself.” Rebecca clarifies. In her mind, her system is impenetrable, mostly…

“And what if he’s dead? Or held hostage? Arias could force his thumb to send whatever he wants.”

Rebecca pauses, then she speaks: “That is a possibility.”

“Clearly, you have not thought of everything.” Johnny leans back.

If Johnny’s theories are right... Rebecca instinctually pats down her back pocket, feeling the cylinder case she tried so hard to save in the laboratory room... then this would have been a waste.

“You—” Chris grabs Johnny on the arm in an uncomfortable angle, squeezing it hard for a lesson. “Enough, kid. I don’t need you going around insulting the best B.O.W. tech I know. She’s doing everything she can. So zip it, focus on your own shit, and follow my orders as I tell you. And I’m ordering you to be quiet.”

“Fine, fine. I got it.” Johnny shrugs off Chris’ hand and rises. “Where’s that same energy to the doctor, huh?” He walks towards a pillar far from the three of them but still within sight.

Chris considered raising his voice, but he drops the idea. Instead, he plops down onto the ground next to Rebecca, patting on her head like he would to his own sister. “Never mind that guy. He’ll lose that attitude real soon. I remember I used to be the same rookie who would talk back to my captain too. Got my ass whooped. Never did that again. At least, not in front of their faces. Maybe I’m going too easy on these fresh ones, who knows…”

A rare moment of gratitude flashes across Rebecca’s eyes; Chris simply dismisses it with a wave. It’s his job to ensure they focus on the present of objective. Not their past, nor their failures. Moreover, B.O.W. techs are more valuable than brawny field soldiers like himself by the hundreds.

Rebecca reaches for something in her bag, and a paper floats to the floor, crumpled from action.

“It’s the letter I took from you.” She should give this back.

He refuses, instead says: “Let’s read it together.”

Trust is rebuilding again, brick by brick.

Chris whistles at the other two and Mike carries himself towards them. Johnny does not move, hand on cheek looking at everything but them even if he did hear the captain. Mike and Rebecca exchange a ‘just let him be’ glance with Chris.

So, Chris unfolds the paper, and reads it out loud, from the part he left off in the storage room.

Get out of there this instant. We think the storage room is booby trapped. I thought the gas was going to turn all of us, but I feel fine. Carlos and Jill though…are off. I accidentally brushed against them, and they felt… cold. When I try talking to them, they seem distracted for a split second. Far off.

Or it could be a false alarm. We don’t know yet. We decided to split into teams for efficiency: Jill and Ada to retrieve the sample while Leon, Carlos shall investigate the pipes. And for me… we’ll see. Once we’re done, we will meet up and get the fuck out of here. I trust Rebecca and the team; we would get through this. We always find a way.

If this is you reading, Arias, get shit on, sucker! The sample will be ours, good riddance to your little game! Justice prevails once more!

There is a hand drawn winky face next to it. Chris and Rebecca scoffs, that optimistic trusting behaviour. So typical of you. And oh, so wrong you were about everything.

“So, the lab, huh? That’s the one by the corridor?” asks Mike.

“Most likely. I know three people was last seen on the ground floor, the others on the top floor. And it’s likely Carlos and Jill to be turned first, according to Leon.” answers Rebecca.

“Could they have split up to divide numbers so they can infect them?” asks Chris.

“That explains why they went MIA. Either infected, or worse, dead.” Mike comments, but none of this is looking too favourable on their side right now.

Chris shakes his head. “I don’t think it’ll be so easy. I know these guys. They’re not the kind to give up without a fight. And these guys are some great fighters.”

Rebecca nods reluctantly. “True—That is, if they know a zombie is among them. These zombies can fucking talk. They wouldn’t have seen it coming. And from what we saw today, they can blend in and entice with their human speech. We have to be very careful.”

What’s to say one of them is not between them now? But she seals her tongue from making such bold statement. Rebecca eyes over a suspicious glance at everyone, including Johnny, checking for any irregularities. None she can notice from a fair distance away.

“But how does the infection work then? Was Gabriel bitten?” Mike asks.

“No, it was only a fracture. The bite marks would be distinct. He only made contact with the ga—” Rebecca pauses.

Her brain starts chugging, like a cogwheel in a complicated mechanism with fragments of facts. Neither of the boys dare to interrupt Rebecca from her thoughts. When she is in the zone, nothing anyone say will get into her head. And it clicks.

“Arias, you sneaky bastard…” She grins. She would kiss her brain right now if she could.

Chris and Mike look at each other in confusion.

“The poisoned water is all around us. It’s the air.” Rebecca elaborates, smiling wide the entire time after her newfound discovery.

“The air?” Chris and Mike gasps in unison.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that when you stepped inside the house, it’s musty?” She pauses to let the boys think. “But the outside, it’s cool.”

“Well, there must have been residual heat from the day still trapped in the house.” Mike comments. It seems abandoned for a long time after all.

“What residual heat during April? It should still be dry season in Querétaro. It’s the humidity! Arias had been pumping up the humidity in the house, that’s why mould is everywhere.”

“And how does that tie to—” Halfway through Mike’s sentence, he snaps his fingers. “Oh.”

“The water supply in the humidifier, of course.” Chris grins, nodding his head in approval.

“The bottled water in the storage is bait. It never had anything to do with the virus.” Rebecca points at Chris and does an a-ha! sound. “The tank in the laboratory is actually just a large-scale humidifier, sending the virus through water vapours in the air. All around us. That’s what those employees were guarding.”

“Gabriel was the only one who took off his mask.” Mike hits his palm with a fist. “And Miguel was infected by being bitten. Then why was Carlos and Jill the ones infected?”

“They had all been infected since the beginning.” Rebecca says, which is the scariest part about this whole operation. What would have happened if Rebecca never suggested the masks?

She continues: “How it activates, I have no clue. The speed of activation drastically varies from person to person so far. The A-Virus attacks always happen either immediately, or up to an hour. I wonder if it’s individual resistance to the virus.”

“Regardless! That’s a major discovery!” Mike launches himself up in joy. “My lord, you’re a genius, Rebecca!”

“As long as we keep our masks on, we should be fine.” Rebecca states, for real this time.

“I’ll let Johnny know the good news.” Mike scoots off. It’s just Rebecca and Chris alone now.

Rebecca takes in a nervous gulp now they are alone. She had forgotten to tell him the most important thing. Rebecca owes him that at least. “Hey, Chris… About the metal case…”

“It’s okay, Becca.” Chris shakes his head understandingly. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Only if you want to. Only when you’re ready. Because we’re going to see this to the end.”

“The both of us?” Rebecca suggests with much confidence.

“With everyone. I’ll make sure we all get back home.” Chris reassures, and this time, he can see clearly what lies at the end of the rainbow.

But what they didn’t know, is that during their heartfelt revelation, Johnny had let a tear fall in private, lifting his mask ever so slightly to wipe the wateriness from his cheek.

TFD SERIES MASTERLIST // RESIDENT EVIL MASTERLIST

MY BELOVED BETAS: @scar-crossedlvrs @jellybonbons the plot really boggle my brain i made so many changes last min. my first longfic so forgive me. on the bright side, we're so close to the finale omg!! the next chapter will take me a while, just a heads up! whoever is still reading this, i appreciate you guys for still staying tuned and from the bottom of my heart, thank you for still believing in me. i love you all sm.

TAGLIST:

@jellybonbons @ovaryacted @daydreamrot @madcap-riflette @access--granted

@obsolescent @briermelli @secretiveauthor @ghosty-frog @navstuffs

@slowcryinginthedark @rentaldarling @lesbntired @redvleanli @vinsiliors

@whoisgami @gaylorvader @wxwieeee @eddsthemunson

#꒰✒️ rose fics ♡.꒱#resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #jill valentine x reader #ada wong x reader #carlos oliveira x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fic #resident evil x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x reader #chris redfield #rebecca chambers

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midnight-mourning · 1 month ago

Text

DCA Promptober Day 18: Phobia

Oof, yeah, this one got a little dark. I've said it many times before, my brain cooks at midnight, I just leave the stove on for her. But yeah, read the content warning.

Content warning: non-graphic mentions/implications of blood and death, reader discresion is advised.

Word count: 1389

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Just get in, and get out. Don't look at him, don't acknowledge. You just have to drop off these supplies and then you can be on your way.

You walk into the daycare, head down. You deposit the supplies on an open craft table, nod briefly to the helper who thanks you, and spin on your heel to head back out again.

Your face bumps into a metal chassis, instead.

"Oh! So sorry, friend! Are you alright?"

You freeze, then mumble a quiet 'fine' as you try to get by him. You can't even meet his gaze.

"Wait, wait, wait! You didn't even say hello!" His voice sounds closer, he must've bent down to your level.

You keep your eyes trained on the ground, "H-hello."

"Oh, come on friend!" Now a bit softer, almost concerned, "Surely you can do better than that."

You open your mouth, then shake your head, "S-sorry. I really have to go now."

With that, you manage to sidestep the bot and dart out the main doors. Leaving behind a confused Daycare Attendant and some mildly interested helpers.

This isn't the first time; it certainly won't be the last. Of the greatest concern to you, however, was how much effort the Attendant now seemed to be putting in to talk to you. Greeting you as you came in to drop things off, making sure to say goodbye, even waving if they saw you passing by the windows. All of which would be, fine, if it wasn't for the fact that it didn't stop there.

It was the attempts at conversation, the jokes, the gifts. Just little things, but they still held meaning. A favorite drawing, a couple of moondrops-since you seemed so stressed- a bracelet, one time, even a small bundle of flowers.

The helpers would tease you in the staff room all about it, saying they've never seen the two AI try so hard to get to know someone. One even slipped up and said they might have a crush on you which internally caused a breakdown. On the outside, you just gave a polite smile and simply stated the same thing you always did; you were just a bit shy, and very busy. Constantly running errands and the likes, you know how it is.

You just hoped no one ever looked up your social media history and saw how, active, you were in your local community. Or caught you taking naps in one of the third floor longues because you were bored out of your mind.

It all finally came to a head one day when the Attendant, the sunny one, managed to corner you for good this time. To be fair, you hadn't accounted for his helpers, well, helping him with that.

So, there you were, in a side hallway by the Daycare, face to face with the bot you'd been doing your damndest to avoid for so long.

It's not his cheery demeanor that gives you pause however, it's what he has to say, and the pieces all finally click into place.

"You have robophobia!"

You stare up at the bot, eyes wide.

"Robo, robophobia?" You ask.

Sun rolls on the balls of his feet, "Mmmhmm. I couldn't figure it out for the longest time, but now it makes so much sense!"

This is the first time in a long time that you've felt confident enough to look up at him, to see where he's going with this.

"Your acute stutter, elevated heart rate, avoidant but otherwise kind personality, I can't believe I didn't notice it sooner," He tsks, shaking his head, "I mean, why else would you be acting in such a way?"

You can't stop the images that come forth. Of that night. Of the several others you'd witnessed.

You'd just been passing by, you hadn't meant to listen in, to see what you saw. You'd just wanted to grab your lunchbox before you went home for the night. Sure, was it weird there was someone in the Daycare with Sun that late? Yeah, maybe. But it wasn't your business.

You just wanted to see what they were doing, that was all. Just not to the extent that you had.

The joint giggling had drawn you in, as you peeked into one of the windows, the big doors obscuring you from view.

Inside was one of the Daycare helpers, and of course, Sun.

They were doodling at one of the tables, both looking quite comical as they sat there, drawing and chatting.

"This was such a good idea, Sunny!" The helper says, hard at work on her art, "Never realized how fun being on this side of things could be, thank you for inviting me."

The bot's rays spin, "Of course, Sunbeam! I simply noticed your recent stress levels and realized I must do something about it! After all, we're friends aren't we?"

"Yeah!"

You're about to head on your way, not interested in eavesdropping further, when you realize the Attendant has stopped coloring.

The helper, you think her name is Hailey, also notices.

"Is everything okay, Sun?"

You have to strain to hear what he says next.

"Do you mean it?" He turns to face her, sharply.

She seems, nervous. You don't blame her, "O-of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"You hesitated."

"I, hesitated-Sunny are you sure everything is alright?" She puts her hand over his, "You know I wouldn't lie to you, right?"

You hold your breath as the bot just stares down at her, rays rotating every couple of moments.

Then, he suddenly bursts back to life, "That's right! You would never do such a thing! Silly me!"

You feel yourself relax; Hailey laughs awkwardly.

Sun joins in, putting a hand to his chest, "I apologize if I upset you, Sunshine!"

"No, no you're good, haha," It's hard to tell from here but you think she's adverting her gaze.

The hand on his chest goes to her back, patting it a few times, "Let me make it up to you! I'll help you with your drawing!"

"O-oh, you will?"

"Mmmhmm," Sun hums, "In fact, I know just exactly what it needs!"

Hailey perks up a little bit, "What's that?"

"Just," You feel your eyes widen as his hand snakes up and grips the back of her hair, "A little bit," You know exactly what's about to happen and you can do nothing to stop it, "Of red!"

You slam your eyes shut, crouching down and hands covering your ears in a panic. It does nothing to block out the Bang! Bang! Bang! you hear, over and over.

Your breathing is as shaky as the rest of you as you remove your hands, nothing but the sound of the Daycare's theme in the air now. You remain on the ground as Sun speaks once more, too afraid to move an inch.

"Whoops! What a troublemaker you are, Hailey! Clean up, clean up!"

And then he laughed. Harsh. Cold. Unfeeling. It sunk straight into your core and didn't leave you for weeks. Even now, months later, it rings in your head. Just the idea of it, of all it, it was insane.

The attendant, both of them, luring previous daycare workers in with kindness and generosity. Compassion, the promise of friendship, or something more. Only to brutally take it all away without a second thought.

You wished it had just been that one time. But multiple times you'd stumbled upon those gruesome scenes. You don't know how they kept getting by with it. Surely someone would have seen and done something by now, right? Or had you just been lucky so far in that you were the only one to survive to tell the tale? All the others having been caught and, dealt with.

You realize you're still staring up at him.

"S-sure. That's it."

Sun's hands go to his hips, "Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we? Not to worry, Sunshine! You're in good hands. We'll be best friends before you know it!"

You give an awkward, slightly terrified, smile, "C-can't wait."

Little did you know they'd taken your fear as a challenge, not as a suspicious sign. A challenge, which they were so invested in that you'd gone from being one kind of target, to another entirely.

Oh, lucky you. Lucky, lucky you.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

I am ALMOST caught up with promptober. This is such a great thing for us. Or well, for me anyway, but hopefully for you too! Masterlist is located here, thank you for reading!

#chat I need you to know that once my sinuses cleared and I had my first #most coherent thought #in LITERAL months #I busted ass on these #wrote four in a matter of two days #twas insane #dcatober24 #fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #dca fic #x reader #fnaf moon #he haunts the narrative it counts

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callmelittlebuttercup · 6 months ago

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Peace Offerings Pt. 14

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter Summary: In the previous chapter, Reader was separated from Joel and placed her trust into another member of the group to find their way to him. When they stop into a house to find food and shelter, they run into a man named David and things take a turn for the worst.

Chapter warnings: MDNI 18+, Jackson! au, No Ellie! au, extreme angst, cannibalism, mentions of murder/death/loss, suicidal ideation, cursing, attempted SA, Reader is locked in a cage, broken bones, Reader is knocked out with chloroform.... lmk if i missed any other fun things! :)

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Fourteen

I didn’t know what to do. In the new world, it wasn’t a custom to politely introduce yourself anymore. Usually you’d hold a gun up and pray they wouldn’t shoot you first, but this man was standing in front of me and holding his hand out to shake. It felt completely unnatural. I couldn’t help but wonder what Joe would do in this situation. I concluded that he definitely would not shake the man’s hand, so I backed away and stood with my hands crossed over my chest. “Hello David.” I said, trying to sound as intimidating as possible, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He chuckled lightly and began to pace across the living room, “Well, you see… You and your friend have wandered into my commune, and I take the safety of my people very seriously. I need to be sure you’re not a threat.” I swallowed. Commune was a scary word, and made the man’s welcoming, yet unsettling demeanor make sense. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was dealing with a cult leader of some sort. If so, I had to get out of there, and fast. “Look, David, I can assure you that my friend and I are not a threat to your people. We were just passing through the town and hoping to find something to eat along the way.” I explained innocently. He nodded and stared at me as if he was deciphering me like some sort of code. “You’re hungry?” He asked, his voice lacking the enthusiasm it once carried. “Well, I’m okay but my friend is-” The man cut me off, “Well then you must come with me to our mess hall. There’s plenty of food to go around here.” He smiled. My stomach flip flopped, and upon instinct I blurted out a “No thank you.” His smile quickly folded into a frown. “You’re really going to pass up a free meal? Since when has anyone offered you one of those in the past twenty years?” He questioned suavely. He sounded like a salesperson. “I normally wouldn’t, but my friend and I are in a rush to get somewhere. Just point us towards the exit and we won’t be in your hair anymore.” I said. He pressed his lips together and turned to look over his shoulder into the kitchen. “I’m not sure if your friend will be going anywhere anytime soon.” He said wearily as he looked back at me. “Wha-” My question was caught in my throat when I followed his gaze around the corner and caught sight of Jacob who was sprawled across the floor with a knife buried into his neck. My heart began to pound in my chest and the familiar feeling of adrenaline pumped through my veins. I turned back towards David with my fists balled, but suddenly a strong, sweet smell filled my nose as a cloth was pressed against my face. I tried not to breathe, knowing it was a chloroform rag, but it was too late. My fighting slowed as my vision darkened and I fell unconscious.

~~~~~~~~

The sound of a knife hitting wood rythmically slowly pulled me into consciousness. My head pounded and the sweet, alcoholic smell was stuck in my nose. Every limb ached as I examined the small metal cell that encapsulated me. I stopped short when I saw where the noise was coming from. Horror filled my body as a human arm fell to the floor as the figure brought down the cleaver once more. My hand flew to my mouth to push the bile back down my throat. The dizziness from being knocked out caused me to fall back into the metal, causing the rungs to vibrate at the impact. The figure paused momentarily and then called out, “David! She’s awake!” I scrambled to sit up against the furthest side of the cage, ensuring that he had no way to get to me through the bars, and eyed him aggressively as he walked into the room.

“How are you feeling?” David asked as he bent down to my level on the opposite side of my enclosure. My hands were pressed up against my chest, instinctively making myself smaller. “Super.” I blurted. He dropped a tray that he’d been carrying onto the ground and slid it through the gap between the bars and the floor. The gap I wished I was small enough to slip through and disappear. “Here, eat. You’ve been out so long… Must be starving.” He said softly. I stared at the contents of the tray. The majority of it was some kind of meat with a pitiful amount of rice. “What kind of meat is it?” I asked reluctantly. “Deer.” He answered stoicly. I scoffed at his blatant lie and kicked the tray with such force that the contents flew across the cell. Some even landed on his shoe. “You’re a fucking animal.” I grunted through my teeth. He leaned closer to the bars and his lip curled up into a sneer, “Oh… You’re awfully quick to judgement. Considering you and your friends killed how many of my men back at your little camp site?” My mind traveled back to that fight outside the tents. Those were his men? And then it all made sense. He captured me for revenge for killing his precious followers.

“They didn’t give us a choice.” I said emotionlessly. “And you think we have a choice? Is that it? You kill to survive... and so do we. We have to take care of our own. By any means necessary.” He demanded. “So now what? Are you going to chop me into tiny little pieces because I killed a few of your delusonal prospects?” I questioned mockingly. “You killed husbands, fathers, brothers. That is nothing to joke about. But I’d rather not kill you. I figure you telling me your name would help me convince the others not to either.” He said in a dark tone, all while trying to keep his patience. I was sick of being looked at like his next meal so I shakily pulled myself up to stand in the center of the cell. David rose off of his knees and to my eyeline. “I’m not telling you shit. Killing me or doing whatever the fuck you’re going to do is not going to bring back your men, so just let me go.” I demanded as I stepped closer to him. He stood on the other side of the bars unmoving, but his lips curled into an even more threatening sneer. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. See, there’s this saying… ‘an eye for an eye.’ Ever heard it before?” He asked patronizingly. I gulped as I nodded slowly. “Right. Now, four men equals four eyes and unless I’ve counted wrong… you only have two.” My nails dug into the palms of my hands as I waited patiently for him to get to him to get to his point. He moved to the doorway, but continued, “Luckily, your brother counted as two more.”

I hurled myself towards the metal bars, banging and pushing as hard as I could. “What the fuck did you do to him?” I growled at David. He walked over to me and wrapped his hands around the rungs. “Let’s just say… his life will help many others to prosper.” He whispered softly. My heart nearly stopped. Though nearly blinded by anger and adrenaline, I still saw an opportunity and wasted no time as I brought my elbow down onto his knuckles, slamming them onto the horizontal bar below. A loud cracking sound filled the air along with David’s pained scream. I reached through the cell door and ripped the key ring off of his belt loop and it ripped away as David fell to the ground. I kept my eye on him as I immediately began fumbling with the lock. David was snapping out of his pained state, but I was faster, and pushed the door open before sprinting down the hallway.

My coordination was low from the dizziness as I tried to navigate our way through the kitchen and to the nearest exit. We ended up going further into the restaurant and found ourselves in the dining room. “I thought you’d be smarter than to think you’re getting out that easily.” David’s voice called out. I quickly crouched behind a booth and peeked over the seats to see him standing there with a machete hanging from his right hand. After throwing a piece of shrapnel away from me to make sure he was heading the opposite way, I began to move, lunging between boothes to stay out of sight. I neared him and planned to take him from behind with a strangle move I’d seen Joel do.

I was inches away from him now, close enough to see the sweat gathering on the back of his neck. I seized the opportunity and launched myself onto David’s back and wrapped my arm around his neck, squeezing with all of the strength I had in me. Sickening gurgling sounds left his mouth as I continued to strangle him and I felt his knees buckling under him. The burning in my arms was only motivation to keep my grip on him, and he finally fell to the ground, taking me down with him. I gasped for breath as I stood up off of him and turned to run out of the door that was feet away, but a sharp sting spread through my calf. I cried out as I toppled to the ground, my head landing inches away from David’s. A sick smile spread across his face. “You’re weak.” He said through his teeth as he pushed himself off of the ground, “Just how I like ‘em.” I tried to sit up and grasp for my leg, but he pushed me down harshly by my shoulder and proceeded to push his body onto mine. I squealed, pushed, and kicked in attempt to get him off of me, but he was too big, too determined. “That’s it, keep fighting.” He breathed. Nausea filled my stomach as I felt him reach down and unzip his pants and began trying to rip my clothes off. I continued to fight, digging my nails into the ground and bringing my knees into his stomach over and over again. Suddenly my hand connected with something hard. Something metal. It was the machete. I grasped it and wasted no time burying it under David’s ribcage. A look of shock occupied his face before his whole body fell onto me.

I was numb. David’s limp body was still draped over mine, but I didn’t have the strength to move it. I’d begun to accept defeat. My brother was gone and Joel nowhere to be found. My last two motivations to be alive were now gone. So there I laid, under my captor on the grimy floor of a restaurant that was being engulfed in flames. The smoke burnt my lungs, but I didn’t care. I breathed in further, hoping it would make my demise come quicker. As I lay there, my mind went back to when Matthew and I were younger. Sitting next to our father’s strawberry plants and stuffing our faces, causing red rings to form around our mouths. I smiled at the memory and felt a tear drip down towards my ear.

Suddenly a loud bang rattled the walls of the restaurant. I stayed still, figuring that it was the ceiling collapsing, but flinched when I heard my name being called. I thought I was imagining it, that I was finally letting go, but then I saw Joel’s face over me. His eyes were wild with concern. “Joel.” I choked. He grunted as he pushed David’s body off of me, his face dropping when he caught sight of David’s undone belt and zipper. My hands floated up to reach for him and he quickly obliged, gathering my quivering form up against his chest. “S’okay babygirl. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He soothed as I sobbed against him. I began to cough between sobs from the smoke gathering in the air, and he quickly moved to carry me outside.

It had snowed more since I’d been captured, and the air stung my exposed skin. Joel set me down gently onto my feet and hurriedly shrugged his heavy jacket off before draping it over my shoulders. “Here.” He breathed before his arm moved to wrap around my shoulders and he began to coral me into the woods, away from the burning building. Suddenly, I dropped to my knees and my breathing became frantic. I was finally processing that my brother was gone. That he’d been murdered, chopped up, and eaten. Joel knelt down next to me and wrapped his arm around me once more as I sat there heaving. I tried to speak, to explain, but I could only manage one word at a time between gasps. “He…. they…” Joel pulled me against himself again and pressed my head under his chin and whispered, “God I’m so sorry.” He pulled away and wiped the wetness from my cheeks and under my nose. “But you’re not hurt.” He said weakly, “Thank fucking god you’re okay.” He pulled me into him again before pressing his lips to the top of my head. I let my body go limp against his. I was relieved to be with him again, to be safe in his arms, but I was so very far from being okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: This was an INTENSE chapter but it's not a Joel fic without angst in every chapter lmao. I hope you enjoyed and as always thank you for reading!!

Taglist:

@ashleyfilm @ayamenimthiriel @demonsasss

Masterlist | Next Part

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aziraphales-library · 1 month ago

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Lost Fic #204

1. I’ve been struggling to find a fic I read in the last month or two. It was on AO3 and I believe multiple chapters where Crowley was captured and made into a caged roadside attraction as a “beast with yellow eyes”. Aziraphale ends up seeing fliers or posters about the new local attraction and buys a ticket to come and check if it really is Crowley. I remember an overall happy ending with Aziraphale bringing Crowley home. Also, the captor kept control of Crowley with some metal rod and he might have summoned Crowley - I’m not certain. I could’ve sworn I found this fic through the blog’s kidnapping tag but had no luck. Any help would be appreciated - thank you for your work! - anon

2. Hello! first of all I just wanted to say the work y'all do is amazing, insanely helpful for the community and new fans. anyways I'm hoping to get some help to find a lost work, tried every single tag possible but I can't find it, I have a good description so if anyone knows this one pls lmk It's explicit (E), not a human au, Aziraphale and Crowley bump into each other a costume party, C is dressed as an angel and A as an demon. C stole aziraphale's halo to use on his costume and A stole C's demon trident (I think) for his costume. They banter and bicker a bit and then have sex. also aziraphale is using a demon tail plug. these are the only things I remember, most tags I try I couldn't find it so I think it might not be properly tagged. Thank you!!! - anon

3. Hey!! I love your guys blog. I lost a fic I really enjoyed. Aziraphale and Crowley hung out together starting from Eden. Were really close with Adam and Eve and were coming to town for eves birthday. They had a house on the outskirts of town that was built after they scared the population threatening some rapist. The children call crolwey moon mother. The kids were pretty sure Aziraphale and Crowley were married. Thank you for everything you do! - @azariah-z-fell

4. hello, I'm looking for an aziracrow fic, I don't remember the title or the author name but I have this blurb: "“For a long time,” Aziraphale admitted. “Everything we’ve done, we’ve done for a long time,” Crowley said. “Like loving you, I’ve done for as long as I’ve known you.” Aziraphale kissed him a second time." And "Aziraphale healed him miraculously, even as he held Crowley tight and pressed a kiss to his back in relief." It's like a 5+1 fic in which they show Crowley giving azi kisses through the eras but never on the lips and then azi kisses crowley on the mouth. Thank you - @leith-428

5. Thank you so much for all your hard work mods!! I can't seem to find a ficlet I read a while ago [between first and second season being released] on Tumblr. It was of Crowley reacting to Aziraphale's death and focusing on the bit with how powerful his imagination is. He just couldn't imagine a world without Aziraphale and so reality kept shuddering, almost breaking, until God sighed and said "fine, just this once" and brought Aziraphale back to life. - @nova-nox

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

#good omens #lost fic #ineffable husbands #mod d

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amomentsescape · 1 year ago

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A Lonely Escape

Eric Draven x Reader

Summary: Reader seeks a change in her normal routine, and the city's vigilante seems to be just what she asked for.

Warnings: Minor cussing, violence, slight angst, loneliness

Word Count: 1,041

A/N: I'm not sure Eric quite constitutes as a slasher, but I really just wanted an excuse to write for him. He is criminally underrated, and it's upsetting how few fics there are for him.

The air was cold, and you could practically feel the night's wind blow right through you. But you honestly didn't care in this moment. You just wanted, needed to feel something.

Living alone had its benefits for sure. Setting your own schedule, a strong sense of independence, and not having to deal with anyone's expectations were enjoyable at first. But when you didn't even have one goddamn friend in a giant city like this, it began to feel so lonely.

The past couple of weeks had left you internally numb. Each day was the same and all of the hours you spent at home or at work began to blur together. You felt like a side character in your own life.

So you had to get out of your apartment and try to feel something, anything.

This city was way too dangerous for someone like you to be walking alone in. You realized this firsthand not even a month ago while heading home after a late shift.

Grimy hands had grabbed at your collar and shoved you into a cold brick wall, your figure being hidden in some disgusting alleyway.

"Your bag, now," the man spat at you.

A small glint in the corner of your eye caught your attention, and you knew that the man's blade was going to end up somewhere inside you if you didn't do what he asked.

Your body shook as you nodded, trying to pull the strap off of you.

However, a loud cawing sound caused both of you to turn and spot a black crow staring intently at the scene.

The man whipped back to you and lifted the knife, pointing it close to your face.

"Hurry up!" he screamed.

His anger was soon turned into fear when someone else bashed him upside the head with a piece of rusty metal.

The man fell onto his side as he reached up to try and cover the now gushing wound on his head.

The figure was quick to shove him onto his back however, and all you could see were flashes of rusty silver as the man's skull was caved into nothing.

The figure dropped the metal suddenly and stood up, his body turning towards you in the dark.

It only took a moment for you to realize it was the city's one and only vigilante. A man who had saved numerous innocent lives since he arrived.

"Thank you," you spoke quickly.

You knew what this man was capable of, yet you felt no fear.

The man looked around the alley until his gaze rested back on you.

"You should never walk alone this late at night. You're going to get yourself killed."

He spoke a little abrasively, but it didn't really upset you.

"May I ask what your name is? You just saved my life, and I would like to know the name of my hero," you let out a nervous laugh.

He tilted his head down in an almost bashful way.

"I'm no hero," he started, "but it's Eric."

"Thank you, Eric."

He gave you a small nod before motioning you to follow him.

He stayed by your side all the way to your house. He didn't even leave until you made it inside. But by the time you peered out the window, he was already gone.

Since then, the only real communication you've had with anyone was at your crummy job.

This was your first time out so late since that fateful night meeting Eric, and you knew that you were putting yourself at risk once again. But any normal worry you'd have was currently hidden away by the pure indifference you felt.

Your heartbeat picked up as you realized that the same alley you almost got robbed in was only a few meters away from you. A chill made its way down your spine at this.

"Are you asking for a death wish?"

You spun around at the voice and saw the familiar man in front of you, the crow perched on his shoulder.

You couldn't help but smile a bit. You weren't sure you were ever going to see him again.

"Death doesn't scare me," you responded.

His eyes seemed to glaze over at this.

"It should."

He walked up to you and tilted his head, looking at you intently.

"You should head home. You already know how dangerous this area can be at this time."

You shook your head.

"I'm not worried since you're here."

His expression was unreadable as he continued to take you in. It was honestly a crime that a killer like him could be as handsome as he was.

Your resolve disappeared after a few moments of no response. Everything was much too quiet.

You finally sighed and broke eye contact with him.

"Do you ever just feel so... alone?" you asked quietly. You weren't sure if you had even spoken loud enough for him to hear.

But he must have since your question was followed by a slow nod.

"All the time," he responded just as softly.

You shook your head as you fought with your own thoughts.

"I-I just couldn't spend another night alone in that apartment," you began. "All I'm met with is silence, and I can't stand to be alone with my thoughts for that long."

You finally looked back up to him and noticed that he was only a few feet away now.

He was close enough that you could take in the features of his face.

And a murderer had never look so heavenly.

"I just... needed to clear my head," you finished.

His lips tightened into a line as he took in what you said.

"There's a place I like to go when it all becomes too much," he finally spoke.

His brows were furrowed in slight irritation, almost like he was fighting with whether he should be sharing this with you or not.

After a few more moments of silent contemplation, he finally sighed.

He reached his hand out to you.

"Come with me."

You looked down at his open palm and then back up to his face. His eyes were soft as he stared back at you.

"Okay," you answered, taking his cold hand into yours.

#eric draven x reader #eric draven #the crow 1994 #the crow movie #slashers x reader #slasher summer

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topazy · 1 month ago

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Tomorrow’s promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Swearing: Swearing, blood

4.04

“Everyone, get back into your cells now!”

In the blink of an eye, everything had gone to shit. One minute you and Sasha are helping Hershel put a dead body onto a trolley for it to be taken away, and the next the prison block you’re in is full of walkers.

You shove Mika and Lizzie, two sisters under the age of thirteen, into a cell with you and slam the door shut just as a walker approaches. It tries to grab you, but thankfully the metal bar keeps it at bay.

“Y/n,” the youngest sister says. “She doesn’t look so good.”

Turning back around, you see Sasha slumped against the wall and coughing heavily. “Shit, keep her sitting upright and don’t open the cell for anyone else. I need to get Hershel.”

Using your blade, you stab the walker in the head, and do your best to not think about how this was a person who greeted you every morning, you’ve laughed with them, and survived alongside them.

As you navigate through the block, stepping over dead bodies and dodging walkers trying to rip you to shreds, sweat drips down your back.

You reach the far side of the upper floor and find Hershel attaching a resuscitator to Glenn. Maggie was standing guard at the cell door, shooting at the dead to keep them from getting to her dad and Glenn.

“Y/n behind you!”

The sound of shuffling feet echoes closer, and you spin fast and stab the person in the head. Henry. You feel sick; Henry was just a teenager.

Walker or not, you just stabbed a teenager, a kid.

You somehow manage to hold back the urge to vomit. “Hershel,” you call back. “Sasha’s not looking so good. You need to help her.”

The block is full of nothing but screams and gunfire, but you somehow manage to make out what Hershel is explaining, and you take over from him and start squeezing the bag of the resuscitator, inflating Glenn’s lungs.

You’re unsure how much time has passed, but when night comes, the walkers have been dealt with, and the sudden silence is deafening.

—

There was still pain in your chest whenever you took deep breaths, and your throat still felt dry and scratchy, but at least you were now able to go outside as long as you kept your distance from the others.

At least outside, the smell of death wasn’t so strong.

One of the fences came down the night before, and a horde would have gotten through if it wasn’t for Rick and Carl shooting the walkers down. Now that the rotten bodies had been moved further away, you were attempting to block up the gaps until the fence could be rebuilt more securely.

Maggie notices what you’re doing and comes over to help. “You should be resting.”

Since you’ve already been in close contact with Maggie, it didn’t matter if she was beside you. “I need to do something,” you say while wrapping a wire between a pole you stuck in the ground and a wooden crate. “Glenn is looking a lot better.”

“I know, thank God.”

“Thank Hershel; without your dad, more people would have died. Me included.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile, “Hopefully we can join the others in a couple of days.”

“Hopefully.”

You doubted things would feel normal for some time. Rick told you Carol murdered David and Karen in an attempt to stop the flu from spreading, so he banished her. You cared for Carol but couldn’t help but wonder if she would have done the same to you, Glenn, or Sasha if she saw how sick the three of you were.

“On the bright side, we got plenty of diapers and formula now that Daryl’s back from the supply,” Maggie says, making conversation.

You let out a deep sigh; you hadn’t seen Daryl since being completely conscious. He had taken a few other members of your community on a supply run, and they had only returned less than an hour ago.

Seeing you become teary-eyed, Maggie rests her hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss Jace.”

You wanted nothing more than to hold your baby and kiss his chubby cheeks and hold his hand. Beth has brought him to the viewing room once, but all it did was distress him; your poor boy didn’t understand the plastic barrier keeping the two of you apart.

“I can’t imagine how hard it is not being able to take care of him yourself, but at least you know he’s well taken care of.”

Following her trail of sight, you see Daryl holding Jace on the far side of the courtyard; he was pointing at the birds sitting on the fence. All you wanted to do was run to them, but you stayed back so as not to upset your son again. But seeing them together gives you peace of mind.

—

After helping scrub the remaining blood off the cell floors, you go back outside to watch the sun set. The atmosphere inside the block was becoming too much for you to bear—too many grieving parents, brothers, sisters, children… nothing you say would be able to help them.

Hershel says it should be safe for those not showing anymore symptoms of the flu to rejoin the rest of your community; you were equally as nervous as you were excited. Being able to take care of Jace, Carl, and Judith again was something you couldn’t wait for, but the fear of the virus spreading to them was still fresh in your mind.

The smell of tobacco fills the air. Looking over your shoulder, you see Daryl with a cigarette between his lips.

“Those things will kill ya.”

He grunts between exhaling smoke.

Sitting atop one of the metal benches, you bring your knees to your chest. “Thank you, Daryl, for always taking care of Jace.”

He takes another puff of the cigarette before dropping it on the ground and stubbing it out with his foot. “Ain’t nothing to thank me for,” he says, coming over to the bench and sitting beside you. “It’s just what we do; we dare for each other.”

Your heart races as you fully take in his appearance now that he is closer to you. Daryl’s eyes were heavy; his body, face, and hair had traces of dirt and blood covering them.

You sit in a comfortable silence for some time until Daryl suddenly turns to you and says, “Doncha, think it’s weird you ain’t ever seen me without a top on?”

“I’ve never really given it much thought; why?”

All of your time was usually spent surviving or looking after Jace, and since you hadn’t had sex yet, not seeing Daryl completely topless hadn’t even crossed your mind.

Daryl turns his head to see if anyone else is around, and after seeing there’s not, he looks away from you and pulls up the back of his top, revealing multiple deep scars on his back. After a moment, he pulls it back down and faces you just as a single tear rolls down your cheek. He wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “Both my parents were alcoholics, and after my mom died, my dad became a complete asshole.”

“Daryl…” The thought of him being a frightened young boy in pain was almost too much to bear.

“It’s why I hated my goddamn brother for so long. Merle left to join the army as soon as he could, leaving me alone with him.”

You link your fingers with his; Daryl wasn’t the kind of person you could pry info out of. He only shares things when he fully trusts someone, so for him to share this with you was a big deal.

Shyly, you start to lean into him, unsure how he will react, but Daryl wraps his arms around. You bury your face into the crook of his neck. “I’ve really missed you.”

“If you're broken, then I’m broken.”

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon/you #tomorrow’s promise #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #TWD fanfic #tomorrow’s promise 4.04 #Daryl Dixon/reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fic

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rubyroboticalt · 3 months ago

Text

QBLR QUARTERLY part 2!

That's right, this report needed two whole posts. Onto the news!

Who let wizards on the server? Zpca's laboratory is discovered in far-off salt flats. Ruby terraforms a black sand beach and takes possibly the worst screenshots of it ever. My liege, you have advanced darkness on. Cheez returns home after a long while away.

And now, a reading from r/malelivingspaces. Orange acacia walls. Shroomlight peeking from above the ceiling and on the lower wall. Orange sandstone ceiling. Meaty red floor. Large desk on the right wall. Single acacia chair at the desk. Unidentifiable orange metal in the wall. This has been a reading from r/malelivingspaces.

Brie reaches a milestone of over 500 deaths, only 1/4 of which are the result of player kills. Dollie participates in a magic ritual with friends! Hivi crafts every single attainable plushie thrice. Ladel has some family bonding time.

Glitch finishes their gardens. Splat and their family convert an airship into a spaceship with airlocking and amenities! On the last two days of play, the Void Worm is unbanned. Residents jump at the opportunity to kill such an elegant beast. Berry organizes a room full of all the flowers in the game.

The mysterious salmon receives some hugs and love from Appie and the bog. Sweetpea tries and fails to go to heaven. Gummy shares the longest playtime of the server, totaling over 45 and a half days. Moo finishes a chapel for their religion.

Inc finishes a tower with which to escape impending apocalypse. Apple finishes the portalfolks garden and invites guests to leave a note in the guestbook. Popcorn celebrates a birthday in the last day of server time.

Oh my lord, audience, do you remember the call to keep a lookout for Spamton after the court case special? It's a good thing we did -- he tries crashing Popcorn's birthday party! And who is there to stop him but WD Gaster himself! I don't believe it!

In the last hours before the end, residents make final arrangements to escape to other worlds. Chunks begin to be consumed, as the Dark Magician harnesses the magic power and energy put into this world for one final clearing of things.

And with that, I'd like to thank Grace, Levlies, Crow, Lim, and Qrth for being an all-star admin team keeping the server running smoothly. Thanks to Ven, Vern, Angel, Cand, Elli, Jay, Mack, Neon, Niko, Percy, and Val for being a super-attentive super-supportive mod team making sure bugs got fixed and lost items were returned. Thank you to Mira, Danny, Jace, Inc, Roy, Glitch, Solaria, Appie, and Cassi for being an amazing bog commune. Thanks to all the other players I haven't mentioned for making the server such a beautiful, lively place. And thanks to you, humble viewer, for coming on this journey with me.

link to part 1

#qblrsmp #qblr quarterly #ruby tv #thanks folks its been a blast.

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finniestoncrane · 25 days ago

Note

Anonymous for obvious reasons; can I request some nasty foul Micah non-con? Something about him just…taking what he wants from me. Maybe at gun point, definitely violent…Please don’t judge me >.<

Micah Bell x Fem!Reader, word count: 5.5k anon i would NEVER judge you for real ❤️ i do think something is wrong with me, or us, based on how into him i am like some of his voice lines are??? and all of his actions are questionable and irredeemable and yet here i am so thank you anon for allowing me to indulge this prompt is perfect for him he is so punishable by immediate death ❤️ request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: noncon, rape, coercion, dead dove seriously, threats, guns, rough vaginal sex, throat fucking/face fucking, fingering, breeding kink, slapping, choking, degradation, brief OH SO TINY insinuation that micah would fuck you dead if he had to

So far, Clemens Point seemed perfect. It'd only been three days since everyone had packed up and quickly retreated further South, but in those three days you'd found peace like you hadn't known for months, years maybe. It was nice, having a sense of community, being in the safety of close quarters, but finally getting some leg room was worth the minor sacrifice of not having to wake up looking at Swanson every single morning.

Yes, you were all running and hiding. Yes, that wasn't the plan. But this camp, for now at least, provided you with a chance to escape from what felt like your own relentless hunter.

At Horsehoe Overlook, you couldn't exhale without Micah being there to seemingly inhale your breath. There wasn't a way to wash and dress in the morning without his eyes leering at you, or any of the other girls. Not even the piercing, ill-wishing stare of Miss Grimshaw seemed to stave him off for any decent amount of time.

The outskirts of the camp provided safety, solitude. The trees dampened the sounds of the others, blocked you from their view. The gentle lapping of the waves against the shoreline deafened you to the talking, the shouting, the snoring, the laughing, the drunken singing. All of it was good, in moderation, but sometimes you needed the escape. Silence, alone. It was good, until it wasn't.

"There she is."

The voice was low, gravelly, something cruelly mischievous underneath the words. Unmistakeably Micah.

Before you could turn to face him, offering him a few choice words of your own, you heard another sound. A quick but familiar click as he lifted one of his revolvers to the side of your head. As you let out the breath you were holding, he began to chuckle.

"Oh, ho... not quite quick enough, were you."

He walked around you, gun still pressed to your skull, the cold metal unfortunately pleasant against your skin in the sweltering heat that persisted even into the dark of night.

"I ain't much of a hunter, but you're just about the perfect prey. Completely oblivious, head in the clouds. Daydreaming about what? Me?"

You scoffed, the sound still low as your disdain for him allowed your fear of him to override it. He was weak in morals, in constitution, in loyalty and goodness. But he was physically strong, and you knew better than to put him in a bad mood.

Micah circled around you, the gun now holstered once more. You weren't going to run, not yet, and he knew that.

"I see now why you like it out here so much. Quiet. Can barely hear the camp..."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as quietly as possibly, trying not to let him know that his strange monologuing was getting to you.

"... I guess that means that they can't hear us."

It was now or never. You were so certain he was bluffing, confident that he wouldn't actually hurt you. And while you were still new to the group, relatively, you had quickly learned how things worked in the Van Der Linde gang. Surely, the hierarchy, the unspoken and loudly spoken rules hadn't been forgotten by him.

But as you moved to take a step you felt a dull thud against your collar bone, a swelling, radiating pain that shot out through your nervous systems in ringing echoes. He'd smacked you with the butt of his gun, and while the realisation that he had struck your body was a surprise to you, Micah was calm, smiling, like he'd known it was going to come to that at some point or another. And as if the sudden physical violence hadn't been enough, he brought his body into yours and pinned you to the three, keeping you there by minimal physical force, mostly by threat.

"Uh, uh... think carefully, you ain't that stupid."

He pressed the revolver against your temple once more, watching as you winced as the barrel came into contact with your skin.

"What is the point in having all of you useless women around if it takes a gun to the head to get you to fuck me."

In a moment of bravery, sensing that this might be your chance to go out with a fight, you spat out your words.

"What makes you think that your gun is going to persuade me?"

Micah laughed, a deep, cruel chuckle that echoed in among the trees. He was deeply amused by your insolence, able to sense the shaking in your voice, the cowardice that failed to back up the words. He cut his laughter short with a grunt as he stepped into you, pressing your back against a tree, clicking the hammer of his gun and leaning into your face. You could smell the whisky on his breath, feel his hair against your cheek as he threatened you.

"Because if you don't, I will not hesitate to pull this trigger, you silly bitch."

Your eyes flitted towards the camp, wondering if it was worth it to scream or shout. How quickly could they get to you? And which of them would care enough to rush?

It was almost as if he was in your head, his filthy fingers scraping through your mind and reading your thoughts.

"Pointless. You mean nothing to them. You don't bring in money. You don't offer up your services. How many socks do you think - need - darning?"

He punctuated his words by dragging the tip of his tongue along the shell of your ear, letting his lips linger before he started again.

"I could say I saw you stalking around the trees, shot you before I realised who it was. Maybe I've done us all a favour? Shooting a sneaky little thief? Or a rat? Maybe I shot you for good reason? And who are they going to believe?"

There was no response you could think of that wouldn't make things worse. None that would make it better either. So you kept quiet, instead focusing your attention on him. Intense eye contact that told him, silently, that he wasn't quite intimidating you as much as he hoped he might. It didn't deter him, and he continued speaking, his breath lingering in the air in front of you, rancid and sweet, tobacco and whisky.

"What is it that you come out here to do anyway, huh? All on your own. Just lusty ideas and busy fingers, I bet."

The insinuation strucka chord within you. He can't have known, surely. And besides, it was hardly the most sinful act. At least you weren't doing it on your sleeping roll next to anyone else, not like you'd seen some of the men do.

"I've seen the way you look at the men in camp. Hot and bothered when they're shirtless. Desperate. Pathetic, really. And yet, you've turned me down so many times. Why is that? Really pisses me off, you know?"

His words were so pleading, as though he were desperate for answers that he already knew. But how happy would he have been to hear your truth? That he was repulsive, cruel, disgusting, vile. That you'd rather take Strauss than him. As you wondered whether it was worth the risk to put him down a little, you were interrupted by the sound of him grunting.

Micah's free hand was working at the belt of his pants, unbuckling it and loosening it enough to slide it through the loops in one single, fluid motion. He slung it over his shoulder and then, when his hand was free once again, he cupped at his crotch, a visible and until now unnoticed bulge at the front signalling what his intentions were.

"I'm only going to ask you once more politely. Are you gonna fuck me, or not?"

"In your dreams."

He smiled wide, chuckling with a snort before the grin faded, teeth gritted as he spat out his words.

"Well, I'm glad we cleared that up."

You watched him carefully as he moved closer to you, his body pressing against yours, keeping you locked in between him and the tree. You closed your eyes tightly shut as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, your whole body cringing, a grimace pulling at the corners of your mouth as his lips grazed over your skin.

"Let's just get this started then. And I'll remind you. Keep. Quiet. One little peep of anything other than a moan or some well-deserved praise on my part, and I'll hunt you down and make sure this little secret dies with you. Understand?"

Although you nodded, the second he seemed to bring his focus to his trousers to unfasten the belt, you decided you had to take the risk and shout for someone, anyone, to hear you.

"Please hel-"

The ill-advised scream for assistance was cut short quick enough that it could have been mistaking for the yelping of a coyote, for a squeal of a nearby bird. Micah's hand was over yours,

"You shut your mouth, whore! If anyone comes running to us, I'll ruin you. Not exactly like you're a willing participant now, won't make a difference to me if you're not breathing either."

His hands fell from his pants, now curled around your wrists as he held you far too tight, making sure his point was made. You nodded, this time in complete understanding and truth, turning your head away from him as he smiled so cruelly at the tears that welled up in your eyes.

"Crying won't help much. It just adds to the delight for me. Now, I'm on the verge of losing my appetite for you..."

He growled, the words hissing, stinging, as though they were meant to encourage you to give way to him, like this was a favour he was doing for you.

"... so I think we should get started. You wanna take the lead?"

Micah gestured to the tent at the front of his stained white pants, and you responded with confusion.

"You want me to...?"

"I'm not in the mood to do all the work here, woman... Just get on with it!"

Slowly, and not meant to be sensually, you pulled his pants down, freeing his cock and noting that he wasn't wearing any underwear. The scent of his sweat was overwhelming, even on the breeze. Certain you'd be forced to take it eventually, you studied him. He was thick, above average in terms of what you'd seen of most men, although he was fully erect so you imagined that helped to make it seem more threatening. Below his stomach there was a mound of thick, unruly, dark blonde hair which coverered his balls and reached just short of the round of his belly. You wondered if it would feel the same against your skin as the scratchy handle-bar moustache that covered most of his face did.

A quick glance up to him was met with an expectant expression as he waited for you to do what you both knew was coming. So you took a hold of his cock, curling your fingers around the shaft, letting your palm grip it as you began to pump your fist slowly up and down. The moment your hand started stroking, he tossed his head back in satisfaction and relief. You were doing exactly as you were told, and he was oddly grateful, though he had no intentions of thanking you. Instead he hissed out a nasty comment, hoping to remind you of your place despite his groans of pleasure.

"That's it... you're good for something after all, huh?"

Despite yourself, you offered him a grunt of dismissal, knowing that any indication of you being present in this was more than he deserved, but just what he was trying to get from you.

"I gotta say though, girly... your hands, they're awful soft. Ain't seen a single day of hard work have they?"

You remained silent, not wanting to give him anything. There was no right answer, no correct reply. If you could just focus on this, on letting him finish up, then you could go back to the camp and work on pretending this never happened. But Micah answered in your place, a thinlt veiled threat.

"Well, I'll make sure to work you to the bone, lady."

Focusing on the task literally at hand was your only saving grace, but it meant you had found yourself getting a little carried away. Your hand was firmer, wrapped around his cock tight as you noticed the stronger your grip, the more he bucked his hips. The happier he was, the less likely he was to kill you, you reasoned. And if you could just get him to finish, as quick as all the other men you'd dealt with, then he might not have the energy to fuck you or to make you put his disgusting cock in your mouth.

Your free hand worked it's way towards his balls, cupping them gently before holding them in the same grip as his cock, watching as Micah hissed and squirmed, almost losing his balance. You loosened up, afraid you might have gone too far, but he thrust his hips back towards you.

"You can't promise that and then take it away. You got nothing better to do than rile me up?"

There was a distinct satisfaction in causing him pain, even if it was a sting that only served to arouse him further. Digging your fingernails into the tender skin of his balls gave you pleasure, but the twitch of his cock, the throbbing veins against your hand, quickly wiped anything good from your mind. Micah's strained whines turned into a choked laugh as he spoke, knowing you didn't care to hear anything he had to say, good or bad, about the experience.

"Oh, I knew you were a dirty girl. It might have been hiding under the surface, but I bring it out of them. I always do."

He grabbed your chin, lifting your face, directing your gaze to his. It was a brief moment of raw intimacy that made your stomach churn, your blood seemingly squirming through your veins as he spoke to you, lips carefully forming the words as his eyes took you in. Subservient, at his feet, there to please him.

"I love to see a pretty little thing working hard."

You tried to keep your face neutral, desperate not to sneer in his face as he continued through his own smirk.

"Why don't you put those purty lips around it, see if I taste as good as I look, HA!"

That one sharp, arrogant laugh was followed by a ridiculous giggle which ended with a snort as he inhaled. He moved closer, taking his cock from your hand, wrapping his own palm around it as he shook it in front of your face. Sensing that now was not the time to argue, you opened your mouth, only slightly, as he pressed the head of his cock, slick with precum, against your lips.

"Don't test me, woman. Open your god damn mouth. Wider."

You were slow to move, letting your lips fall open hesitantly, unable to make the process any quicker as your body refused to agree. Your jaw swung open in shock though, as the back of Micah's hand cracked against your cheek.

"Now, lady! Hurry the fuck up."

It pained you to obey his instructions, but you did as you were told regardless. Letting your lower jaw open, you found it quickly filled with his cock as he gripped it at the base and pushed it in along your tongue. THe brutality of the motion, clumsy, without regard for either of you, meant your teeth scraped along the top of his length. Micah placed his thumb and forefinger on either side of your chin, tugging it down to open you up more with a hiss.

"Be careful with those teeth, lady."

The taste of him was one you wouldn't forget. You could already feel it settling against your tastebuds, seeping into them, thick and musky, the tang of his precum at the back of your throat as he let himself really enjoy the experience.

Bringing your hands up, you rested them on his protruding stomach, ignoring the pang in your heart as you realised the affectionate insinuation it brought in favour of the control it gave you. At least in this position, you could push against him, stop him from pressing his cock further down your throat. He was already choking you, the head tapping against the back of your tongue, making you gag as he laughed in delight. Your saliva dripped down your chin, spilling from the corners of your mouth as you coughed and spluttered.

Micah's lips curled into a smile, pushed out into a silent "oh" with a pout as you tried your best to encourage him to cum there, flat against your tongue, hitting the back of your throat. You'd hate it, the taste of him lingering, no option but to swallow quickly, but at least it would be over. It seemed he had other plans, though, as he had noticed that your mind was wandering from the task at hand.

Instead of punishing you, as he wanted to for this lack of enthusiasm, he grinned a wide, false smile and his voice dripping in a sickly sweet and very put on tone.

"Aw, you feeling left out? Well, don't you worry. Micah Bell knows how to share the wealth around."

With a loud pop, his cock was pulled from your lips. Strands of drool dripped to your chin and the ground, sticking to the grass and glistening in the moonlight. As he adjusted himself, his cock bounced, glinting similarly with your saliva.

You realised that this was going to be a longer ordeal than you anticipated, and you scrambled for any excuse to get him back in your mouth so you could finish the job, standing up from your knees and trying to face him straight on so he could see the desperation in your eyes. It was a ridiculous notion, that you could appeal to any morals within him, but it was worth a try.

"No, it's... it's fine. Please, let me focus on you. Was I not doing a good enough job? I can try harder? Please? Please just-"

He wasn't having it. Before you could move your head out of the way, his hands were reaching up towards you, holding his belt between them and pressing the leather into your mouth, your head banging roughly against the tree behind you, held in position as he buckled and tightened the belt against the bark on the other side.

"Hng... mmmm... icah... ease... on't, ease..."

The words were muffled, formed poorly as your lips strained to meet each other.

"Don't strain yourself, you'll like this. I promise."

He sank to his knees, an odd sight to see. But his dominance was unquestionable. There was no denying he was in control, and enjoying every second of what he viewed to be a little bit of servitude, a little bit of pleasure, but definitely a lot of cruelty as he held your undesired pleasure in his hands.

Micah's fingers pinched the hem of your skirt, teasing at it before he began to lift it little by little, exposing your calves, your thighs, and then, much to your dismay, your cunt.

"No drawers? Well... aren't you just full of surprises."

He breathed in deep with his chuckling, nostrils flared as he leaned closer to you.

"I can practically feel the heat coming off of you! Tempting... very tempting."

Your body twitched in response to the soft ghosting of his fingers against the tuft of pubic hair, his fingertips dropping to your warm lips, cupping his palm over your cunt between your legs. He held you there, gripping tight, before he slid one finger between your lips, bringing it round to the front, his hand curling back out from your thighs, that one pointed finger tapping over your clit as he retreated. With his hand in front of his face he sniggered again.

"You can't tell me you're having a bad time, not when my fingers are covered in evidence to the contrary, lady."

In a move that made you shiver involuntarily, whether that was in excitement or disgust you couldn't tell, he brought his slicked fingers away from your body, lifting them to his nose to inhale your scent. And then, serpentine in the way it moved, he pressed his tongue out and tasted you on him. The satisfactory groan he made settled in your chest as you waited for him to return to you. But instead of reaching for your swollen cunt, he gripped at your skirt, pulling at it, tugging it down your waist.

"Let's get this off you then, sweetheart, and we'll see just what you got underneath. Gotta get a good look at what we're workin' with here."

Now half-naked against the tree, you let your eyes dart towards the camp, unsure if you actually wanted people to come find you now. The fear of being seen, completely embarrassed, the risk of them misreading the situation made your blood run cold. And worse than even that, you realised that the revolting arousal coiling in your stomach was only growing. Each stroke of his rough fingers against your cunt was only making you hotter and more desperate for any kind of relief. Micah was teasing you, successfully. He was a bully, towards everyone at camp, anyone he deemed weaker than him, and more often than not, those that he knew were stronger than him too. There was no difference between the snide or sleazy remarks he hollered at people as they walked past him and the cruel way he was holding you in the palm of his hand. But past the irritation, there was something pleasurable in the tortuous way he had taken control.

Micah's fingers slipped in and out of you with ease, your arousal wet and welcoming as you felt yourself closing in on an orgasm. You knew he could sense it. Your muscles tensed, your breathing was laboured, and your throat had relaxed enough to let loose a small, continuous whine that brought another, devilish smile to his lips. And yet, he didn't stop. He was going to make you cum. He was going to be responsible for your climax. And you were surprised that he would do that, let alone bother to get this far. He had always struck you as a selfish man in every regard, not least of all in dishing out any semblance of joy to others. And especially not in relation to any women. But here he was, calloused fingers pumping in and out of you while his thumb tapped against that seldom regarded bud that made you whimper and tremble.

"You're getting there, huh? I told you before so many times, I ain't as bad as you and all the others think I am."

He paused, looking to see if there was any change in your eyes, in the way you viewed him. You hoped he wouldn't see that glimmer of recognition of his more positive attributes.

"You regret spurning my advances now, lady? Wish you hadn't been missing out all this time? Well, we can always remedy that. You and me... we got a lot of lost time to make up for."

His sentence closed with that same chuckle, ending in what was becoming his signature snort. A sound you'd regarded in public as grotesque but which in private you had to admit added a certain amount of innocent, almost falliable charm to him.

As you considered the sweet sound, innocent in its way, your back arched away from the tree. Your nec strained, mouth still bound by the belt, trying to keep your balance and losing the strength of your muscles as they tensed into a complete, dull, numbness.

"You can bite down on that belt if you want. I'll wear your teeth marks like a sign of my achievement."

With that crude sentiment you felt your body tremble into release, surges of pleasure chasing after your nerve endings, reminding you of the way that the spark of the plunger let the flames rush towwards dynamite. And there it was, your own explosion. Micah's arm was around your back, holding you as he kept his fingers pumping in and out long after your muffled groans had petered out. He let you rock yourself on him, soothing your body as you came down from the high, hushing you, stroking your hair and kissing your neck almost tenderly as he lowered you back down against the tree.

"Sh, sh, sh. There, there, that's a good girl."

You were murmuring against the leather, not even sure of what you were trying to say, when he reached for the belt buckle.

"I did something for you, now you're going to behave for me, yeah?"

You nodded and he unbuckled you from the tree, keeping you pinned there with his body against you. You weren't going to run though. You were close to the end. It would have been a fool's move to try and escape when you'd already given up so much, and were this close to the freedom you had known just a short time before. And besides that, he was correct. He'd done something for you. And you were undeniably grateful, as much as you loathed to consider that fact.

"Not long now, girl. We're almost done. But you gotta let me get mine now, that's just polite."

Without stopping to think, you nodded, agreeing with him a little more enthusiastically than you wanted to. Anything to have this over with, that's what you could tell yourself, and anyone else who found out. The sooner he commenced with that was coming, the sooner you could go back to camp and scrub yourself clean in the river. If you were quick enough, you might not have to let the fact that you were enjoying yourself settle in. You could forget it ever happened, never have to fear returning to this moment in your nightmares, or more likely, your more pleasant dreams.

"Now, did you know that it's been quite a while since old Micah Bell has seen any action?"

It did, actually. For all that he was away from camp, you imagine that he might be in brothels or saloons, paying for what he wanted or taking it by force as he was now.

"We're just so busy these days, on the run from the law. Can't find the time to woo a girl proper. And none of you in camp are interested. You all think you're too good or me."

It was as if he had angered himself just by thinking about it, irritated enough by your previous rejections that he grabbed your arm, fingers pinching your skin, and turning you around forcefully. Then, his palms were on your shoulders, pushing you to your knees once more, the worn toe of his boot between your shoulder blades as he kicked you onto all fours.

"In fact I think the last time... yeah, it was Jenny! You never met her, but boy, she was a dirty little thing. Not quite as filthy as you are though. You're much worse. Which believe me, is far better. You feel better, even. Taste better too."

With very little grace he began to pull his pants down, shuffling unceremoniously until they were at his ankles. His legs, now exposed, were a concerning sight. Sparse, light blonde hair covered his limbs and did a poor job at concealing the extensive bruising on his skin. In what you imagined must have been a painful move, given the scrapes that currently marred his knees, he sank down to the ground, lowering himelf to your level. He knelt on one leg at one side of you, the other side trapped by his foot which was planted firmly on the ground. And then he pulled at your hips, bringing you closer to him. The heat of his cock, the sticky texture of his precum, settled aganst your rear as he shifted between your cheeks, trying to work himself to the correct angle.

"It's a shame what happened to her, you know. She could've been carrying Micah Bell the fourth for all I know. And then she was snuffed out."

There was almost a sense of regret, of genuine sorrow, in his tone. But he quickly snuffed it out with a continuation of the crude remarks you knew so well.

"No problem, I can try again with you. Let's see if we can't carry on this great lineage after all. You'd make fine breeding stock."

He made a playful grab for your hips, palms sliding underneath you as his fingers gripped at your stomach before he pulled them away from your body to his own. He spat onto his palm and rubbed it along his length, gripping his cock at the base and positioning it against your ready, swollen lips. And then he pushed himself inside of you with a deep and pleading grunt.

"Stallion like me? Who wouldn't pay for me to stud. You're lucky you're getting it for free."

Micah began rutting into you, his cock throbbing against your walls, stretching it as he pressed deeper into you. Your walls clenched, body tense as he grabbed desperately at your waist. Each grunt seemed higher in pitch, weaker towards the end as his voice trailed off into a whine. You could feel him trembling, his knees shaking almost immediately, which meant he was close to finishing. The ordeal was almost over, and yet you noticed yourself clenching tighter, muscles contracting around him, trying to keep him there within you for just a few more seconds. You were taking pride in the soft praise he was muttering, words about how warm you were, how inviting you seemed, wet and waiting, a fool for rejecting him, clever enough to take him up on the offer next time.

"You're all so prissy... hng... so scared of me... But it's really not that bad is it? Heh... You can tell them all ...ah... if you want... tell them... tell them Micah Bell did you good."

He tossed his head back, a feeble whimper caught in his throat as he bucked into you hard, a sudden warmth filling you. He stayed there, twitching inside of your cunt, his cock keeping his cum inside of you until he eventually pulled out and watched as the creamy residue dripped out of you and onto the grass. His hand reached out, and for a moment you thought he might be offering it to you, a gentlemanly aid to get you off of your knees, but instead he gripped your skirt and wiped his hands on it. Then, he pulled at the fabric, rubbing it over the flushed head of his cock, cleaning himself before he started pulling his pants back up.

When you had scrambled back up and onto your feet, you were quickly pulled into a kiss, one that felt neither romantic nor necessary. It was almost as though he thought it was a courtesy, the right way to end what had just happened. You could smell yourself on his lips, and as his moustache brushed against you, the kiss deepning into something far more crude and animalistic than a pleasant goodbye, you could make out the dark smell of whisky and cigarettes, and something far more acrid lingering below even that.

Luckily, he pulled back before you began to choke for air, or gagged on his tongue which had begun to slide itself down your throat. And as you stared at him in disbelief, still not sure of how to process everything that had just happened to you, he put out his hand again, this time in a genuine gesture.

"Will you accompany me back to camp, miss?"

The shift in his tone was so strange. It sounded like there was genuine feeling, hope, behind the words. You looked at his palm, then up to his eyes, confusion settling on your brow before a grimace curled over your lips. Jilted once again, Micah spat at your feet.

"Fuck you then, lady. I don't need everyone asking questions about you and me, anyway. There's plenty of other women who could... I got better things to be doing than playing house with you."

As he walked back towards the glow of the campfires you watched him carefully, not daring to move until you were certain you could make it back safely to your mat with the other girls. And your blood ran cold as he stopped and turned on his heel, a sneer pressed into his cheeks as he spoke.

"I wouldn't go blabbing about this. If you start showing, I might make an honest woman of you. Until then..."

He pressed a finger to his lips, silencing you, before walking off with another giggle, the snort echoing between the trees as you watched his disappear at the treeline.

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