#evil dead fanfiction

[alienguts]

Nightlight (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Ash still has nightmares of the cabin.

Warnings: (brief) horror and violence, nightmares, hurt/comfort

Request?: No

A/N: I miss Ash and wanted to write something but I haven't had a lot of ideas for him lately.

He’d had the same dream so many times that he’d lost track. It was always the same: he was in that cabin with Scotty, Cheryl, Shelly, and Linda. They were all having a blast until that damn book was read and all hell broke loose. He’d dreamed about it so many times that the novelty had worn off, it was barely a nightmare anymore and just a regular dream. But this time it was different.

The four Deadites had started to advance on him, their faces twisted and horrific as they screamed and cackled at him. He’d managed to fight them off for most of the night but something kept distracting him. A fifth figure lurked in the corner, shrouded by the darkness and waiting for its turn to get him. His eyes strained to see what it was and he stumbled over a chair once he realised what it was. Or rather who it was.

His former friends held him to the floor as Y/N stalked towards her. Her face was warped into a wicked grin and blood dripped from her fingers. Growling laughter escaped her throat as she advanced on him, the sound turning his blood into ice in his veins.

“Y/N?” Ash said, his voice shaking. “What are you doing here? What did they do to you?”

“Don’t you wanna play, Ashy?” the thing pretending to be Y/N teased in a singsong. “We just want to have some fun with you.”

Ash tried to push the other monsters off him but they held onto his limbs tighter and pulled him back down to the floor. Y/N knelt between his spread legs and took hold of his right hand. Her touch was icy, the blood on her hands slicking his skin and making him gag. She brought it up to her cold lips and nuzzled his wrist before running her sharp teeth along it.

“You won’t need this, will you?” Y/N crooned.

Ash could feel his pulse pounding in his chest as his breath came out in shallow puffs. This wasn’t how the dream was supposed to go.

“No, you don’t need it. You won’t miss it either.”

Ash tried to pull his hand back but she yanked it further away from him and sank her teeth into his wrist.

White-hot pain flashed through his body and he screwed his eyes shut as he screamed and his body arched off the floor. His back hit the floor again and his eyes shot open.

Ash found himself staring at the ceiling of Y/N’s bedroom, his skin slick with cold sweat and sticking to the blanket covering his legs. He flexed his fingers as he gathered himself again and sat up on the side of the bed. He glanced down at his right arm and found it the way he’d seen it for so long. Still gone, he thought. He shouldn’t have been relieved to still be missing his hand but it meant that the dream was over for now.

He stood up and tiptoed around the bed to Y/N’s side where she slept soundly. Ash’s fingers shook as he reached out to stroke her face and he breathed out slowly when he found that she was still normal. Just a dream, his mind repeated. It was just a dream.

Ash padded out of the bedroom and made his way to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. He flicked the light on and turned the sink faucet, the sound of running water filling the deafening silence. The water was icy when he splashed his face, giving him the wake-up shock he needed. He dried his face without looking at himself in the mirror. He knew he looked a mess and didn’t need to see.

There was little chance of him getting back to sleep so he made his way into the living room. Ash turned the standing lamp on and sat down on the couch, his head hanging as he took deep measured breaths. His mind whirled round and round as he thought about the nightmare. 

Why was she there? She’d never been in that nightmare before, so why now?

“Ash?” Y/N asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw her standing next to the couch. “What’s wrong? Why are you up?”

“Nothing, I just couldn’t sleep,” Ash said, trying to brush it aside. “You should go back to bed.”

“Are you sure? It didn’t look like you just couldn’t sleep,” she said as she sat next to him. “You were making a lot of noise.”

“It was just a nightmare, don’t worry. I have the same one all the time.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” Y/N said and rested her hand on Ash’s knee. “You were moving a lot and I kept hearing you say my name.”

Time to rip the bandage off, Ash thought. There was no way to weasel himself out of talking about it.

“It was that same nightmare about the cabin,” he started. “But it was different this time.”

“Different how?” Y/N asked, stroking his knee softly.

“You were there.” Ash noticed how she stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. “You were there and you were one of them.”

“Oh, honey,” Y/N said and wrapped her arms around him. “It was just a dream, it’s never going to happen in real life.

“But what if it could?” Ash asked, his voice quiet as he let Y/N hold him and stroke his hair. “There’s always a chance.”

“I won’t let that happen,” she said firmly. “And I wouldn’t let them get you either.”

“I won’t let them get you,” Ash said as he buried his face into Y/N’s shoulder.

They stayed quiet for a while, Y/N letting Ash put his weight onto her as she stroked his back, played with his hair, and listened to his breathing. She thought that he’d drifted off to sleep again but he lifted himself off of her and tenderly kissed her forehead.

“Thanks, baby,” Ash said before hugging Y/N again.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Y/N said and returned his hug. “You always help me feel better when I have nightmares.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t thank you when you return the favour,” he said before yawning.

“Think you could come back to bed now?” Ash nodded. “C’mon then, I’ll keep the monsters away from you.”

“Not before I keep them away from you,” he said as he let her guide him back to bed.

[nadare-writer]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies), Evil Dead (Movies 1981-2023) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Vanita "Stretch" Brock/Ash Williams Characters: Vanita "Stretch" Brock, Ash Williams (Evil Dead) Additional Tags: Rare Pairings, Crossover Pairings, Bar Encounters, Post Army of Darkness, Post-Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (1986), Past Trauma, Shameless Smut, Chainsaw Kink, I Will Go Down With This Ship, One Shot Summary: After moving to the UP for a new job, Stretch visits a bar and has a fateful encounter with a one-handed man.

[zairas-realm-gateway]

@diamond-punk0963 Apologies, I didn’t see your message until today. I tend to spend most of my time on my @my-little-wraithlings account.

You mentioned you were interested more in my modern Brisco/Ash AU. Well, because of school it’s not fully fleshed out currently and only about 1k words of it is written so far. But I can expand a bit on my ideas for it.

--

A warning: this story is lovingly nicknamed “Brisco County Jr. vs. the transphobic legal system of Elk Grove, Michigan” so there will be some mentioned transphobia from the Elk Grove citizens. Just a head’s up.

So, for the AU’s groundwork. Everything that happened to Ash in the first three movies still happened, just in the 2020s. But because Ash’s life sucks enough as it is, we’re gonna pretend Covid doesn’t exist in this already fucked up reality. The deadites don’t need help killing people. Anyway, everything still works because most rural cabins still don’t have internet or cellphone service. and that is why a bunch of college students were so excited to test out an old tape player.

As for Brisco, I am still working out his modern world. I’m thinking at the point he’s in Elk Grove, his father is still alive. His father owns a hobby ranch in California where Comet is currently staying. Brisco is currently traveling around the different states because of his inquisitive nature. There’s so many new things being made and discovered in recent years and he loves seeing how people utilize this progress. In his travels though, he is horrified how so many things in America are so backwards though (like the government and local businesses not caring about safe water supplies or railways). The most recent place he’s traveled to Elk Grove, Michigan. And, it’s not that the little town isn’t nice, it’s just that he’s not a major fan of the people and their ways of thinking.

The plot rolls forward when Brisco gets bored and decided to stick around, maybe make some money along the way. He decides to use his schooling to get a job in Elk Grove’s legal system. He is completely horrified that they hire him right away and not even do a background check. The first case he’s given to look at is one that no one else seems to want to touch. 

The case is of a trans murder suspect by the name of Ash Williams. As Brisco reads the file, he grows increasingly frustrated and disgusted with how the police chief (Thomas Emery’s father) writes the file. The language is condescending and constantly misgenders the suspect. According to the file, the chief appears convinced that ash is the murderer of 4 other college students. Brisco finds himself seething when he reaches the part in the file where the police chief fixates on a belief that Ash killed the others in a murderous rage caused by Ash hormone treatments.

Because of all this, Brisco now believes that a good chunk of the file must be wildly misinformation. He now knows he needs to get to the bottom of this himself. The investigation is rather jarring for him when he sees a picture of Ash and the man looks remarkably similar to himself. But this is also highly intriguing for Brisco so he keeps investigating. He comes to the medical record done for Ash after Ash’s arrest. Horrified, he reads through the nauseating list of injuries that have been recorded, all of which Ash claims come from his weekend at the cabin. Looking through the injury details, Brisco clearly reads that the injuries were obviously not from Ash’s victims fighting back. Rather, the injuries state that Ash was heavily abused.

Brisco needs to get Ash out of this town.

Using his skills and his silver tongue, Brisco fights to prove Ash’s innocence. After a lot of work, the police finally let Ash off the hook. Except, the town does not believe the evidence. They all see Ash as a murderer. Even his own father.

Brisco knows its wrong to get too attached to a client. That’s a bad working relationship. But he tells Ash to leave Elk Grove with him. He tells Ash about his father’s ranch in Cali. Tells Ash he can stay at the ranch while he starts over.

The two head out and get really close along the way.

Unfortunately for them, someone seems to have noticed an interesting tape recorder when they had been grabbing evidence at the murder scene after Ash’s arrest. But of course, there’s no reason to lock up a tape recorder, right?

---

And yeah, that’s all I have worked out so far. I really want to get back to writing this but I need to watch more Brisco so I can hammer out his personality and speech patterns. I’ve just been so busy, I’ve just started my last semester of college.

[my-little-wraithlings]

Fic Excerpt: Bad Ideas

Alright! Herbert and Ash won the Fic Pick! Though, I'm feeling that maybe someone was voting more than once because there was a sudden influx of votes for them. Anyway, here's the fic excerpt (that means its just a chunk of a fic, not the whole thing).

-- Ship: Ashbert (Ash Willaims/Herbert West) Word Count: Approx. 1700 Rating: High Teen Type: Established Relationship

--

No! No, this couldn’t be happening. Not again. He was calling bullshit! There was no way that destiny or fate or whatever the hell had chosen him could be so cruel! He wasn’t going to lose another. He couldn’t! Please God, no!

“Hey, shhh, no. It’s okay.” Ash said. His voice was trembling and tight in his throat as he listened to the pained gurgle leave his partner. Quivering hands hesitating just a moment too long as distressed brown eyes frantically looked for the worst of the wound before pressing down. Ash’s arms tightened, cradling Herbert. A small, wet gasp escaped the man tucked in against his chest. Blood frothed from the corner of the smaller man’s mouth as a stifled cry of pain slipped from him. Ash’s teeth ground at the sound. His wet gaze softened in apology as the vice-like pressure of his metal fingers pressed more against the wound in his companion’s side. His flesh hand trembled as it raised up to stroked through Herbert’s sweaty black hair. “You’re f-fine.”

“A-an obvious un-underestemation of the sit’ation.” The reply to Ash’s attempts at comfort lacked its usual bite. Voice weak and slurred, wet from the blood coating along the doctor’s tongue. There was a soft pop as Herbert’s labored breathing caused the blood to bubble and pop softly in his mouth. The mucusy tinge to the words caused a familiar sinking feeling to settle in Ash’s gut. It was like frozen rocks had filled his belly, chilling him to his core. Nausea riled in his stomach, sickening heat battling numbing cold as Ash’s vision began to blur, eyes stinging from the sheer amount of tears welling in his eyes.

This wasn’t supposed to happen this time!

Ash opened his mouth to say something, anything. But his tongue felt glued to the top of his unbearably dry mouth. Throat clenching around the words that wished to escape. He was left helpless to do little more than gaze down into the scientist’s  dark, unfocused eyes. Such a lovely mesmerizing brown with a strange tint of glowing green around the pupil. Words, always Ash’s second worst nemesis, failed him once more as he held Herbert as comfortably as possible given the current situation.

“M-my bag.” The words were wheezed out. A struggle to speak as Herbert’s lungs refused to expand, leaving him desperately gasping for breath. His dainty hands shaking as sweaty palms clenched against his slacks. Eyes fluttering as he struggled to bring his thoughts together as they lay scattered in the ether. Lifting his hand, he made a few pitiful reaches towards the vintage medical bag that had fallen to his side when he had collapsed. 

He could see the green. The glow of his glorious reagent.

Once more. He needed to see it just once more. The vials needed to be checked to ensure the life-giving liquid was safe. The syringes needed to be inspected for glass integrity. If they were broken, even a small crack, they would be useless to Ash. Herbert couldn’t allow that. Not after he had worked so hard.

Ash stiffened as he heard the weak plea from his partner. Blood turned to ice as his pulse quickened. The room tilted as thoughts of the glowing reagent filled his mind. The already boiling nausea in his gut grew in pressure up his throat. Limbs locked tight as his lungs refused to fill for a moment. The muscles in his chest constricted as he felt the thunder of his own blood pounding in his ears. Each thud of his erratic heart felt like a hammer fracturing his sternum.

Not the reagent. Dear God, no. Anything but that cursed liquid. 

He didn’t want this. He had seen the horrors that vile syrup could conjure. Had seen the dead rise and act like no human or Deadite he’d ever seen. Countless times he’d been woken in the middle of the night by horrific sounds in the basement. Leaving him rushing into the lab to find a re-animated corpse crushing his lover’s throat. The last of the vile monstrosities had left bruises in a dark circle around Herbert's throat for days. The trip to the grocery store the next day had been a nightmare. Herbert didn’t seem to notice but Ash saw it, saw the nasty judging look everyone cast his way. Ash knew the look, could hear those silent voices yelling accusations and judgment for yet another crime he didn’t do.

He couldn’t lose another love to the grips of insanity and darkness. Not even once more. He couldn’t take the pain again.

“No! You don’t need it.” Ash bit out the words. Tone sharp and violent. He winced, clutching at Herbert. God, that couldn’t be the last way his lover heard him speak, dammit! He tried once more, voice gentle. “You’re gonna be okay, Herbie. You don’t need it. You’re gonna be fine, okay?”

Ash was quaking. Tears on his face as his strong limbs curled tighter, cocooning his little doctor in his love. He could see blood shimmer on metal as his gauntlet fingers did little to staunch the welling blood. There was a chance this time. There was an ambulance coming this time. He just had to wait. It was okay. He wasn’t alone this time. It was okay!

God, why hadn’t he done something differently?

Ash shut his eyes and pressed his face to Herbert’s hair. Breath shaking as he thought back. Thought to this morning when they had all the time in the world to not do this. If he had just made different choices this morning…

~Z~

It should have been an unassuming day. Something easy, something nice.

The morning sun shimmered in the clear sky. It was strangely warm but not overbearing. Just something to ease the nip of cold at Ash’s nose. Ash leaned against the side of the Delta as he looked past the top to see Herbert walking from the front door of their shared home. How the man had found a second house right next to a graveyard kind of frightened Ash but it was a nice house. He hadn’t known Herbert when the doctor had lived at the other house and maybe that was for the best.

It was a different time for both of them. Things are better now. Ash closed his eyes and listened to the chilly breeze. Not a single tinge of demonic howling to the peaceful sound. In his book, that’s all he really needed to signal a good day. In a world like his, you had to find your good days wherever the hell you could. That was just a random-ass fact of like he’d come to accept.

The sound of dress shoes on gravel reached his ears. His eyes reluctantly opened, wincing slightly at the brightness of the sun. He could spot Herbert nearing the car and decided to finally slip into the driver’s seat. Settling in, peace and familiarity settled into Ash’s bone. His hand lifted to the steering wheel, slowly running his fingers over it as an ache echoed in his heart for just a moment.

The Delta’s passenger’s door squeaked the tiniest bit as it was pulled open. The sound was followed by a small distressed sound. Disapproval and discontentment tinted the barely audible noise. The sound made a small smirk pull at Ash’s lips. He closed his eyes and listened to the rest of Herbert’s disapproving ritual. There was a snap of a towel being forcibly unfurled. The frustrating sound pulled an indignant gasp from Ash as he watched his companion drape the towel over the seat. By this point, it was more a play on Ash’s part. It was honestly a little funny to see just how much Herbert hated this car. The smaller man gently placed his bag between them before settling onto the towel, arms crossed.

“Geez, Beautiful.” Ash grumbled, unable to keep his eyes from rolling playfully. He turned his hips, shifting his weight to turn and look at Herbert better. Head tilting to the side as he rested he left arm atop of the steering wheel. His gaze drifted over the image of his lover sitting atop of the towel. Herbert just sat there, waiting for Ash to start the car. Insulting as it was, Ash couldn’t help but laugh softly. “It ain’t that grungy in here.”

“My apologies, Ash, but…” Herbert started as his spine stiffened. Eyebrows arching as his judgemental gaze washed over the Classic’s innards. He lifted a hand, gesturing to the less lying about. The sheer amount of beer bottles lying about was honestly concerning. He was at least 85% sure that Ash was actively trying to drink himself into an early grave. He never drank in the house but the evidence was all over the car. Herbert’s shoes were used to being laces-deep in gore and muck but there was something about the stains and bottles on the car’s floor that made the scientist’s skin crawl. He huffed and lowered his hand back to his lap. “The universe only knows what you’ve done in this car and I am not fond of the idea of unearthing those particular discoveries.”

Ash’s mouth opened to start in offended protest but the words were struck from his mind as he spotted Herbert’s cheeks puff out the tiniest bit. Any playful protest he had been about to make quickly melted away. The corner of his mouth quirked up. His flesh fingers tapping along the curve of the steering wheel. Ash leaned in towards his partner, right arm reaching out to rest his metallic hand atop of Herbert’s thigh. He watched the scientist’s eyes widen in shock a moment behind his glasses before they narrowed challengingly.

“Oh, I dunno, Dr. Feelgood.” Ash said, his voice crooning softly as he leaned in a bit further. He shifted his weight and soon they were practically nose to nose. Even in the confined space of the car, Ash towered over his partner slightly. Their eyes met. Though Herbert’s features were stoic, his bottom lip tucked between his front teeth gave him away. Ash’s prosthetic hand squeezed his lover’s leg gently. Just enough pressure to entice but never bruise. His thumb pressing gently over some inconsequential sweet spot on the other man’s thigh. Some little mystery he had discovered one night. His pulse sung as he watched heat blossom on pale cheek. He dipped his head, pressing battle-scarred lips to his lover’s mouth. “I think you’re just jealous done you yet in this car…”

~*~Excerpt End~*~

[admirxation]

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝐬𝐭 - 𝐝𝐮𝐛 𝐜𝐨𝐧

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. reader needs to get out of a speeding ticket. (wc: 3.3k)

𝐜𝐰 — afab!reader x corrupt cop!Leon S. Kennedy, modern/no outbreak au, 18+ smut mdni, dark content, dub-con (power imbalance), ooc, flirting, dirty talk, degrading (slut and whore are used against the reader), unprotected sex, p in v, outdoor sex, bending over, and cum. -> you have been warned; continue at your own discretion.

You had been in your own little world, lost in thought, with the monotony of the highway lulling you into a kind of reverie, unaware of the exact numbers that were ticking up on your speedometer. You were driving back from work—another gruelling day—and were exhausted, unable to think with enough clarity as you watched the ribbon of an empty road stretching out before you. The muted hum of your car engine blended into the sounds of the night with the occasional car driving past and overtaking you, your atmosphere filled with dotted streetlamps and headlights being the only light source to illuminate the motorway. 

Your mind was blank, going into autopilot as you continued to push down on the pedal and go toward home, as you always did. That pathway was the quickest; very little went on through here besides the occasional animal that darted across the street or a street being closed off during long reconstruction processes. However, those were the only problems until you saw the red and blue lights flashing behind you in the rearview mirror. 

At first, you didn’t think those lights and sirens were for you, thinking it was just for the person ahead—until you were flashed with the cruiser signalling you to pull over. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach as you noticed the signal, thinking it was a mistake until your gaze lowered to the speedometer. 

“Fuck,” you whispered through your teeth as you noticed how above the speed limit you were. 

A slight tremor passed through your fingers as you slowed down, indicating before pulling up to a complete stop until you noticed in the side-view mirror and saw it was a male office—easy. You saw him step out of the car, striding over and managing to get a view of his frame as his dusted blonde hair fell on the framing of his face; when he was walking further up, you noticed that face—this guy had to be a rookie. You could make that assumption with his soft features, and he seemed near enough your age; to your naivety, you thought this would just be a simple unbuttoning of the blouse and squishing your arms together to show a subtle amount of cleavage and drop your voice into a silky octave to convince him to let you off with a warning. 

The officer was approaching—taking his time—with his gait deliberate and slow enough to add anticipation and a tremor within your beating heart; you took the opportunity to unbutton the top two buttons on your silky blouse, puffing up your hair for some volume and getting ready to plead your innocence to the rookie. When he reached your window, he bent down just slightly, his presence a bit too close for comfort when you noticed his blue gaze staring into you, his badge now gleaming in the dim light, the sound of his fingers tapping against the window of your car. You quickly pressed the hard button and lowered your window, quickly giving him an innocent and sweet look. 

“Do you know how fast you were going, Miss? " His voice was almost fatigued. He was clearly exhausted like you were from having to be at work at night. 

You blinked, remembering to keep up that innocent but seductive look as you pushed your arms together a bit more—but his gaze didn’t lower; he looked unimpressed more than anything. 

“No officer… I’m sorry, was I speeding?” you had a soft tone in the traces of your syllables, hoping to god that he would take it in as your fingertips drummed on your skirt-covered thighs. 

He chuckled, but not one of humour, one that was devoid of humour and more condescending than anything. His eyes were sharp and calculating as he watched your face, then starting to lower with the flicker of his blue gaze trailing from your strawberry hue lips to your exposed collarbones and soft, subtle cleavage—he had seen this trick one too many times by now, but it was always fun to watch people try. Especially when the person trying was as pretty as you were, maybe he could have a bit of fun with this.

“You were over the limit. " His voice was smooth, with a layer of something that made you uneasy, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on the feeling—at least, not just yet. 

You could only continue to plead your innocence with a small and apologetic smile, trying your best to defuse the situation. 

“I must have lost track, officer. I am so sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking… a stressful day at work, you see.” 

His smirk widened a little too much: “Hm, well, you need to handle your “stressful days” at work better than speeding, Miss. " He talked down to you, making your heart quicken, and the hot liquid pulsate through your veins as you felt your body start to go cold at his piercing stare. 

You brushed your fingers through your hair, flashing another sweet smile; this was too amusing to him, but all he could think about was how he was glad an attractive girl like you was pulling the trick, giving him a chance to let off some steam with someone he could actually find easy on the eyes. 

“Look, officer, I am extremely sorry I just—”

“Trying to flirt your way out of a ticket.”

Shit.

“No, no, I—”

“I haven’t been in the job long, Miss, but it’s the oldest trick in the book; you think because you’re young, you can flash a pretty smile and think I’m going to blush and warn you.” 

Busted. This would not be good; it was another payment on a whole load of debt you had accumulated since you tried to be an independent adult after college. 

You gave a defeated sigh, your head kicking back on the headrest. 

“License and registration, please miss.” 

You opened up the cabinet of the car and gave your documents to him, your stomach lurching as he snatched them away from you in a quick motion, turning his blinding white flashlight onto the information and a quick look at you. 

To his delight at the confirmation, when the flashlight was pulled to your squinting eyes, you weren’t too bad to look at, not like the other girls who desperately flirted to get out of a ticket and had nothing to show; you were quite attractive, just his type—attractive and desperate. He handed them back to you and leaned in closer, his arm resting on the edge of your window as his face was inches away from you, making a lump form in your throat as your lip quivered momentarily, terrified of the ticket that was going to be written and cause more impending debt on your government name. The air between you two felt suddenly thick enough to slide through, and your chest steadily fell and rose as your breathing quickened. That anxiety was charged with something unspoken. 

“Hm,” he breathed out, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Actually, I’m kind of glad I stopped you now,” a smirk forming a curved and sinister shape on his lips. You grossly misjudged this guy for a normal rookie. 

“Oh, um, why’s that? " you said with an awkward smile, your tone of voice now slightly heightened in pitch. 

“It gives me something nice to look at on my work shift,” he squinted his eyes at you with his smile, taking your form in further; his tone had a suggestive but sharp edge, and it was far from playful, innocent flirting. 

You just expected to do some innocent flirting, wanting to get away with a warning by flashing a sweet smile and putting a fake number in his notebook with the last two digits being swapped so you wouldn’t have to see him again. But you felt your stomach twist, feeling a cold chill run through your spine and making goosebumps along your soft skin in trepidation’s wake. 

He didn’t move for a bit, his body looming over yours as his eyes roamed around your face, looking at the shade and shape of your eyes, the way your eyelashes were formerly batting when trying to act all guilt-free, looking at the bridge of your nose, and the red tip from the cold night, then slowly going to the blouse that had been unbuttoned by two small buttons, so subtle, but enough to get him excited about you. You wanted to flirt, and you would get the consequences of that now. 

“I can… I can take that ticket, officer. I understand. I should have been paying attention,” you stuttered in a shaking tone as he continued to look at you from head to toe in the car, not minding the debt when seeing how that stare was drilling and piercing through you. 

“A ticket? No, I don’t think we need to go through that route.” he tilted his head, his smirk deepening in its curve as it made a dimple in his cheeks that sinisterly creased. 

“But, as you said, officer, the flirting trick wasn’t going to work, and I need the consequence, with a ticket,” you couldn’t help but let out a short and breathy, awkward laugh as you tried to defuse the anxiety that was pooling in the pit of your stomach, your heart pounding against its chamber like it was starting to come alive and run away from its designated place. 

“True but… I don’t mind if you flirt.” 

“What’s with the change of heart... Honestly, officer, I’m really sorry and—”

“Aw, are you scared now… Don’t like it when the game goes against you, do you?” he whispered, coming too close for comfort as your heart continued to thump against your ribcage, that pounding drilling into your eardrums and begging that someone drives past, or that he just gives up, you didn’t want a ticket but that smirk was making you feel uneasy, why couldn’t you just flash a pretty smile and get this over and done with. “I’ll give you a choice... To make it fair on you I suppose, you can either be given a ticket… which will cost a pretty penny… and judging by the material of that blouse and the type of car you’re driving, I’m sure you don’t have the money... Or you could get out of the car and… Let’s see how well your flirting can get you out of trouble, yeah?” 

His smile made your skin crawl, with his hand resting on the roof of your car and his strong gaze trying to coax you out of the safe refuge of your car walls; his other hand had drumming fingers against the window frame in a lazy rhythm, similar to that of a ticking clock, to show your time was wasting and needed to make a decision—now. 

He wasn’t wrong about not having the money; it’s the way you endured your boring and unfilling job just barely to afford the bare minimum with a lack of support; you looked at his face, and despite the skin-crawling effect, his smile was starting to have, he wasn’t unattractive, he was quite hot if he didn't have that creepy tinge to all his words, it wouldn’t be too bad to play his game? You could get out of some money, but at the very most, you might need to kiss him. Right? 

You cleared your throat, fighting with yourself to keep your voice nice and steady: “I… I guess I could come out.” 

“Great choice.” 

You unbuckled your seatbelt, hearing the metallic click outside, and felt his stare pierce right through you as he watched you stop outside, watching you shudder as you felt the winter air across your skin and cause your goosebumps to harden on your skin. He watched your standing figure, taking in how your cheap clothes hugged onto your curves and looking at every slope of your feminine shape; his eyes certainly gleamed with approval and a hint of glistening arousal that shined in the blue of his eyes as he looked upon you. 

“Hm, not bad,” he muttered to himself with his fingers on his chin, that smirk on his face like a cat looking at a mouse to play with, measuring and sizing you up as you stood there, suffocating on the tension between you two in the cold winter air. 

His suggestive stance hung in the air like smoke, clinging to your lungs. The road was empty, and only the sound of the swishing wind and rolling tyres was miles away from your location. To your disappointment, this pathway didn’t have many people pass it, which was good for avoiding traffic but awful when you were stuck in a situation like this. 

You forced a tight smile as a wrinkle formed on your smile lines, your mind racing but that part of your brain trying to keep calm, focusing on your drumming heartbeat. But his smirk was still frozen in place, his eyes locking up as he weighed out his options. He slowly straightened up and moved closer to you, removing any distance that was between you—his fingers now trailing on your jawline. 

“Keep your eye contact; it’s rude not to pay attention,” he said nonchalantly, his freezing fingertips tracing the line of your soft skin, looking at your features up close. “Be a good girl and bend over the car for me.”

“What? Am I being arrested?” you quickly blurted out of panic, your blood running hot through your veins. 

“No, no, relax… Just follow instructions, and you’ll be on your way home in no time.” 

As you hesitantly put your hands on the cold hood of your car, you deeply swallowed that lump that was forming in your throat, connecting your thudding heart in your chest to the freezing metallic of your car hood as you were left vulnerable with your ass pushed out—it felt so demeaning. However, while your mind was running on overdrive, Leon was measuring you up like a snake ready to devour, no longer stifling over the anxiety of what his thoughts and impulses were going to lead up to; if anyone knew what he was doing, he would soon lose his badge and his reputation… but who was here to stop him? Certainly not you; you weren’t going to be stupid enough to put yourself into more debt than you needed, and who would believe that innocent rookie cop Leon would ever do such a thing—the perks of having a sweet face, you could get away with anything.

He continued to watch you surreptitiously, taking in how your thighs were shaking; he soon coaxed a sharp gasp as he pressed his crotch against the fat of your ass, rubbing his trousered cock on your skirt and watching you shake, practically squirming against him as you whined pitifully. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do this. You can just accept the ticket, and I’ll leave you alone,” he teased in that tantalising and condescending tone. He knew you didn’t have a real choice, but it was fun to plead the case of ‘but you could have left’. 

While you were settled down, you felt his hands smooth over your ass, biting your bottom lip as you looked behind you. 

“Oh, what’s this? No,” he continued with that tone that made you feel like a pathetic puddle underneath him, “I think you like this, don’t you?” he brought his vision to your bitten lip and the way you looked at him through half-lidded eyes, clouded by desire, and shame. 

He wasn’t exactly wrong, and you hated to admit that to yourself or him, but you couldn’t deny that you felt your nipples hardening against the hood of the car and felt your cunt start to tighten whenever his tented pants were rutting against your ass; you were ashamed of yourself, but… you wanted him. 

“Didn’t think I would be stopping a complete slut,” he muttered under his breath, but enough for you to hear as his hands were hiking up your skirt, and seeing the soaked patch on your panties from behind, making him scoff out a condescending laugh. “My, you are pathetic, aren’t you, getting wet for a guy who wants to use you… How endearing,” he practically purred as he bent down and whispered the end part in your ear, leaving a teasing bite on your earlobe and making you suck in a short and cold breath, your pants showing up in fogged-up clouds in the winter night. 

“Hm, I like you,” he continued to whisper as he jerked down your panties, the rough and thick lace fabric pulling down your skin and causing you to wince, “don’t worry, you’re in very, very good hands,” he cooed as he watched your glistening cunt tighten in the cold, slowly unzipping his pants and letting his throbbing erection spring out, before slowly rubbing it against your soaking slit. 

“Oh my god~” you moaned out. 

“How much do you wanna avoid that ticket, huh?” he teased as he pushed the fat head of his cock in and out of your needy hole, making you anticipate when he was going to fully push his whole length in and make you his needy little whore. 

“Mm, so much, officer,” you whimpered out through your quivering speech. 

He absorbed every word and whimper as he kept making you plead continuously, “I couldn’t hear you…Speak up; do sluts not know how to use their words now?” god, he was such a jerk, but this jerk was making you soaking wet and begging for a sweet release; you didn’t even care that you were avoiding a ticket, all you cared about was the fact you wanted to cum all over that cock. 

“Please,” you finally hissed out. 

“Good job looks like you can use your words,” before you could interject or plead anymore, he finally rammed his whole length inside of you, forcing a loud and pornographic groan to protrude out of your glossy lips, your eyes rolling up and up until he was making you see blurred stars as you felt his bare cock rut against your spasming and tight walls, feeling dumb as he continued to make you his slut. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he moaned out with his fingers deepening onto the fat of your hips, “oh such a needy little slut, all to get out of a ticket,” his breath hitched as he felt your walls tighten and clasp around his length tighter the more he spoke to you. 

“Ah~ ah~ ah~,” your eyes were so far up that anyone would just see the whites of your eyes, with that stupid and dazed smile as your lips were parted in your moans, taking it, and shamefully… loving every bit. “More, more, more,” you groaned out through your chewed lip, knowing this was so wrong, but hey, at least you were getting out of a ticket and was getting the best fuck you had gotten in a while as well. 

“Oh, your cunt is perfect, such a pretty pussy. I love ruining it.” He kept missing out his condescending and vile words down at you, practically gasping when he felt your pouty lips dribble down your juices over his shaft. “Oh, you fucking whore,” he moaned out as he kicked his head back, loving how you were just wrapped out his little finger, feeling his climax soon to come with his eyelids fluttering and his nails digging into your skin, enough to leave crescent moon shape indents on your hips, his balls slapping against your skin and tightening with every second he was getting closer to grasping at his high. 

He groaned when he finally met it, pulling out and shooting his thick load onto your skirt; your favourite skirt was going to have to go to the washing machine after this, but you didn’t care about that with how good you felt. 

As you were pulling up your panties and pulling your skirt back down, standing up in your breathless and panting state, you were left with confusion when he pulled his notebook out. 

“Number now, and while you are at it, put your name there as well; I’d like to whisper it in your ear the next time you beg for me.

taglist: @elfven-blog @porcelainseashore -> if you want to be tagged in my works here is my taglist [x], and if you want to be deleted from it just message me privately.

a/n: woop woop the first post of kinktober! I hope you enjoyed this and stick around for what I have planned, if you're interested I do have a 'kinktober 2024' in my pinned post so you can see what is coming up, and my taglist is open for people you want to be tagged in my works from everything to something very specific they're looking for. Happy kinktober, and I hope you have fun here *mwah mwah*

[weskie]

Perfectionist (Albert Wesker x afab!Reader)

18+ | this man deserves to hump the bed, oral sex (reader receiving), afab anatomy gn!reader, amab version here | Fic Directory

Particular.  Methodical. Precise.

Starved.

All words fit to describe the way Wesker handles you.  Even now, even with his face buried between your legs, he works with such intense mindfulness.  Every swipe of his tongue, each bruising nibble to your thighs or heady suckle to your swollen bud is done with the sole intention of bringing you the most pleasure possible.  

Wesker is a perfectionist, and you are the canvas upon which he will paint.  He will carve the beauty of your bliss into this world one swipe at a time, for hours on end if he must. Even in the midst of such a primal deed, he is nothing but grace– until he isn’t.  Until you catch, by sheer luck, the sight of his hips grinding down against the bed.  Just once. 

Just one little slip of his self control.

But how fucking euphoric to know you push him to such extremes.  That the mere taste of your nectar can unravel his unyielding poise is enough to undo you.  With your hands in his hair, gripping, tugging, voice squeaking and pleading, you feel the lightning strike of your release burst through you.  It tingles into your limbs, down your spine.  You arch and squirm, but he holds you in place effortlessly.

He always does.

And he doesn’t stop…  

He laps at you through all of it, fingers beckoning slick from your quivering cunt to feed his insatiable appetite.  His little sounds aren’t lost on you.  The heavy, panted breaths; the little moan here or there; that one particularly drawn out hum of delight when your thighs clamped tight around his head.  

You peer from under heavy eyelids when you feel his lips at your thighs once more, peppering soft kisses as you come down from your release.  To your surprise, his gaze is anything but soft– so unlike his actions.  You find him staring with determined, voracious eyes– red as ever, boring deep into you.  The juxtaposition ignites the strangest blendings of anticipation and adoration.  He’s promising you silently and loudly all at once: you belong to him. 

You are his down to the molecular level and beyond– to the little building blocks of each and every atom in your body. He has made his claim.

The fingers within you continue their motions and his thumb falls to your tender bud.  Wesker is silent as he works you back to madness, basking in the trembling of your legs, nuzzling against the inside of your thigh to feel and watch each and every reaction.  

You can see him faltering again.  So subtle, but you catch the way his hips move. Poor thing. His pants must feel so tight by now… 

You wish he wasn’t so damn dignified all the time.  If he’d only accept that he was allowed the simple pleasures, that he could let go of some of that pride and hump the bed like any normal man.  God, you’d fucking love to see it.  Even just that little gyration was enough to make you clench around his digits.

You can see in his eyes that he’s doing everything in his power to resist it.  

You use your grip in his hair to push him back to your aching core.  His lips curl in a smirk at your clit and you wish more than anything that you could kiss that damned look off his face.  

“Mm, god!” You mewl, knowing full well what such an exclamation means to him. Not a plea to a higher power, no… 

That title is his. 

“So, so good…” you gasp, pushing up to meet his soft tongue. Through the haze, you see it happen again. The smallest arch of his back, the lightest rocking of his hips. 

Is that what he needs? 

“That's– that's it!” 

Again. 

“Al… oh god!” 

Let him know how good he’s doing.

You resist biting back a moan, just to further test the waters. You let those little whimpers sing freely, let his name fall from your lips and your hands tug and pull at his hair. You even dig one of your heels into his back, and then you hear it. 

Nearly silent, Wesker's gasping, open-mouthed whine reverberates against your sopping folds. The sound dances to your ears, more beautiful than any melody to ever grace the world. 

Your fingers curl tighter in his locks, pressing him closer. With your back arched and feet braced, you grind up against his face. Both of his arms lock around your thighs as if, by some measure, to remind you that it’s only by his good graces that you’re allowed to use him so wantonly. 

Another weak noise quivers against your aching cunt, and you find it in yourself to fight off the tendrils of release seeping through every fiber of your being just to watch him.

“I love it!” You gasp, perhaps just a little too breathily.  “L-Love you!”

Which, of course, earns you that reaction you so desperately want.  This time your treat is two sharp rocks of his hips and the unmistakable creak of the bedframe protesting against his strength.

You’re playing such a dangerous game with him.  What if you get what you want, hm?  What if you make the man-made god come in his pants?  What then?

Surely there will be consequences for pushing him into such a position.  Perhaps he’ll make you lick him clean.  No, no… that’s hardly a punishment.  What if he threw you over his knee?

Also not quite the worst case scenario.

So you sing for him.  With every little breath, you vocalize how good it feels, how good he feels, until suddenly those subtle grinds against the bed are anything but and he’s practically growling against your heat.  

His eyes are screwed shut, brow furrowed, tongue fucking in and out of you while his nose presses to your clit, and he humps against the bed as though the panopticon of his pride had never been there at all to observe such a desperate act unbecoming of a god.

The sight sends you hurtling over the edge, back rising from the bed as you shiver and shake and gush more slick for his greedy tongue.  His name falls from your lips over and over like a prayer, and by the time your back hits the bed once more you hear and feel him finding his own release as he thrusts away at nothing.

The thought alone of what just happened is enough to make you see stars…

You pet through his hair affectionately, cooing praise until those piercing eyes crack open and stare lazily through the haze.  His mouth stays pressed at the base of your mound, slick glistening at the tip of his nose and the curve of his cheek– too invested in painting his masterpiece to realize he’d become part of it.

Eventually though, you manage to get him to crawl back up.  You thumb away at the mess, utterly hypnotized when he grabs your wrist and sucks your digit clean. You can see it in his eyes… You feel it in the way he kisses you.

Ever the perfectionist, Albert Wesker is far from finished with you.

[heathermason6060]

Serial Killer!Rick Grimes x f!Reader Smut: Trophies

Warnings/Mentions: Murder, use of alcohol, Rough sex, choking, slapping, biting, hair pulling, spitting, overstimulation, Rick is a sadist in bed and gift giving is his love language, but also just likes to see you wearing belongings of people he's killed

Summary: Rick gets tired of putting his kill trophies in a box, so he puts them on you instead. Then you fuck.

Notes: I finally got around to finishing this yippee! There's 2 smut scenes, first is kind of short and tame, and the one at the end is a few pages long and contains the more aggressive parts. Somewhat proofread!!

There were many routines in your life, and the lives of the people around you. 

Rick was no exception. 

Any time he'd leave the prison he'd go through the checklist in his mind; revolver, ammunition, his machete, water and a little bit of food. 

And his cassette player, with that single tape. 

Every note of the unnamed female's voice was engraved deep into his brain. He knew every hum and breath, every strum of her gentle fingers across her guitar. 

It was just some tape he'd found. Didn't have a sentimental meaning to it from life before, wasn't some artist he was a fan of. He found it in that old rundown music store the two of you spent a night in back in Atlanta, and he took it. 

You'd seen him with it plenty of times but you'd never actually seen him listen to it. You never gave it a second thought until you were on a run together, driving in silence down the long winding back roads.

You asked if he wanted to play his tape on the car stereo, and his friendly calm demeanor was instantly replaced with that look you'd only seen very few times. 

“No.” The look on his face was enough to change your entire mood for the day. 

His later attempts at cheering you up were only met with feigned smiles and laughter, something he was quick to pick up on. 

“Why don't we go see that river you told me about, long time ago.” He looked over at you in the passenger seat, giving you that trademark Rick Grimes smile. 

“Oh, if it's not out of the way, yeah.” You shrugged. It was clear you were still feeling unnerved by the ice thrown in your direction for seemingly no reason.

“If there's as many fish as you said there were, then it don't matter.” 

“Okay, yeah, should be fun.”

Rick grinned when he could sense your attitude reaching a more positive level. “Alright. River first thing in the morning. Know of any place around here we can camp out for the night?”

“There's some old camping grounds a few miles up from the entrance point to the river. They used to set up tents near this fishing shed, tents are probably gone but the shed won't be. There's a few larger cabins up the same road but I have a feeling they're probably occupied. Was a real nice place.”

Rick nodded and continued driving. 

He said, come wander, with me, love

Rick closed his eyes as he sat in the front room in the largest cabin. If his timing was right, they should be walking up the steps now. 

Now at the door. Now opening the door. Now walking in. Now they saw him. 

It was careless, what he was doing. Careless. You were asleep down the road in that little fishing shed, you could wake up at any minute and find the bedroll next to you cold and empty. Get worried, wait a few minutes, then get out your gun and come looking for him. It was stupid. 

He just couldn't help himself. It'd been so long. 

He opened his eyes.

One woman, three men. The first man was scrawny, easy. Rick could take him out with little to no effort. The woman was a bit chubby, but very short. She looked horrified already, she'd be easy too. 

The other two men would be a bit of a challenge. Tall and well built.

Their mouths moved as they stared at the strange man sitting in their house. He could make out a few ‘what’s but that was about it. 

He caught them off guard by walking right up to them. 

First big man caught a knife to the head. The other pulled his gun and shot, barely missing Rick's shoulder. 

Rick yanked the knife free and grabbed a wrist, pinning it against the front door, smashing over and over against the wood until his grip spasmed, and the gun fell with a clatter. 

The woman was pulling at him like a sick dog. He reared back and elbowed her in the face, breaking her nose and knocking her unconscious. She fell to the floor with a thud, and the scrawny man dropped to check on her. 

Rick turned back to the man he had pinned against the wall. He was angry, cursing, little white bubbles of foamy spit spraying from his lips. A trembling hand reached up, desperate to poke an eye or anything that could potentially stun Rick, only succeeding in ripping out the buds in the older man's ears.

He set his jaw as his heart began to race. Now it would get sloppy. 

Rick reared back, and slammed his head forward so hard he felt the bridge of his nose instantly crack against his forehead. Blood spewed from his nose down his face, spraying Rick in the process. 

The man reeled before collapsing. The hard part was over. The easier ones were more of a chore.

Rick stood back and admired his work. 

The woman had a plastic bag over her head, but it was still obvious she'd been bludgeoned. Poor thing, didn't even wake up before she'd been so brutally slaughtered. 

The scrawny man had his neck snapped. It was by complete accident, Rick didn't expect him to be so… fragile. He laid in the living room next to the woman and the first man he'd stabbed. 

Rick looked down at the dog tags in his hand. They were fake, he could tell that much. Ordered at some flea market from cheap metal. The back had worn away to copper.

He balled up the rest of his rope and stuffed it in his duffle bag before finally leaving, the pleads and begging falling on deaf ears.

It took their people three days to find them.

“You, that's the man that killed Javier. I saw you leaving the same night we found him.” 

That didn't alarm you. You knew Rick had killed people before. The words that followed soon after were a different story.

It was the third day of your scavenging run. The first day you spent on the road looking for a spot. The second day you spent on the river, mostly fishing and picking out places on a crinkled old map to go on the third day. 

You'd just woken up, eyes still foggy with sleep as you walked out of the fishing shed to see Rick standing in front of a small group of people.

“Your man was a threat to my people.” Rick used the barrel of his revolver as he spoke like some sort of pointer rod, making the three strangers flinch each time it aimed at one of them. 

“No. You tied him up like a skinned deer, was he still alive when you cut his stomach open?” Their leader's questioning was cut off with a quick gunshot to the head. 

You gasped, not expecting that, and brought your hand to cover your mouth. 

“No!” A blonde woman shrieked and fell to her knees beside her lover's limp body. She looked up to Rick then, venom in her spit as she spoke. “You're worse than the dead ones!”

Rick killed her just as well as the silent man behind her. Then it was just you and him, and now you were the mute.

You weren't thinking, really. Your eyes were still wide and burning from not blinking, staring into the pile of bodies that had been alive only seconds ago. 

“Hey, you alright?” His voice was back to normal and you blinked, seeing he was now knelt beside you with that familiar look of compassion. That was the Rick you knew, not that cold thing that used his body only minutes before. 

“Yeah, just, I wasn't expecting that.” You breathed. Your lips and fingers felt numb, despite it being a warm October day. 

Rick nodded, looking down at the dirt between his feet. He chewed on the inside of his cheek before speaking.

“I keep forgetting you're not as… seasoned as the rest of us.” 

No. That wasn't it.

You were no stranger to killing, but the people you killed were in self defense. 

What Rick just did was cold blooded murder. And the way he made it seem like the most normal thing a man could do had your chest feeling tight.

“I'm hungry.” It was all you could think to say. 

He snorted at that, taken aback by your words. “Hungry? Okay. You okay staying here for a few? I can go search that old country store down the road.”

You nodded, glancing at the bodies only a few feet away. He followed your gaze and squeezed your knee to redirect your attention back to him. 

“Keep your radio on. I'll just be a little while, okay?” He smiled when you nodded. “Don't use your gun unless you have to.”

You were thankful he drug the bodies away before he left. 

Come wander with me. 

Rick took a deep breath.

It had been two weeks, his self control was slowly slipping. He'd gone a year without killing once, when Carl was born. At the time it was easy. 

The old brown house, threatening to crumble at any moment from the massive amounts of dry rot and termites, was a perfect place to look for people out on their own. They loved staying in the inconspicuous hole in the walls, places that you would never notice unless you were desperate and terrified. 

He moved out of the shadows and dug his knife into the base of a skull. They died in his arms and he held them there, closing his eyes as the struggles grew weaker and weaker, until they finally stopped all at once.

He opened his heavy lids to see a woman screaming, her hands covering her mouth from the opposite side of the small living room.  The buds in his ears prevented him from hearing most of it. 

Rick let the lifeless body slide from his arms, and stood. He was quick as he walked towards her, grabbing her by her hair and letting out a disappointed ‘tsk’ at her state of shock. She could have easily escaped but she chose to stay there and wail.

He came from the sunset, he came from the sea.

Rick held her against his chest as she squirmed in his arms, pounding her fists against his chest, her movements futile, weak from starvation and dehydration. He closed his eyes again as he held her there, dragging his knife up the base of her spine. He could hear her screams now, they'd transformed from anger to terror, dry screeches as she pleaded for her life.

Rick found his thoughts drifting to you, and now it was your voice humming in his ears, replacing the unknown feminine voice he'd grown so accustomed to. 

You truly were a sight to behold. Even if it was just in his mind. 

A sharp kick to his knee snapped the image of you out of his mind, and sent him into a state of anger. He opened his eyes and gritted his teeth before yanking her head to the side, looking down at her soft tanned skin. 

A mother Mary coin sat at the base of her throat, dangling on a thin chain, only for a second before Rick gently took it off. 

She jerked against him as she realized she was bleeding, streams of warm blood gushing down her neck and chest. 

Her already weak movements became weaker as she bled out, only managing to give a last ditch attempt of escape when his knife was removed from her throat. Her jerking against him stilled, and he pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes glued to hers as he watched her blue eyes turn glossy.

Rick took the earbuds from his ears and put them in the back pocket of his jeans, along with the necklace. 

He wouldn't need to put his trophies in a box anymore.

You smiled in surprise as you looked at the jewelry in your open palm. 

“Do I seem the religious type?” You mused, running your finger over the gold oval. Mother Mary. You didn't expect Rick to think of you when seeing something like that. 

“No.” He hummed, a soft smile on his lips. He looked so sweet then, the orange reflections of the campfire dancing across his face. 

You wanted to question him, ask him where he found it and why he decided you were fit to wear it, but your lips closed when he moved to put it around your neck. 

He was gentle, gentle as he moved your hair over your shoulder, and gentle as he closed the clasp and brushed your hair back in its original position.

“Thanks Rick. It's really pretty.” Your fingers stroked the charm at your neck, the metal warm from being in his back pocket. You decided then you didn't care to know about the where or the why, the hows or why there was dried blood on the back of it. 

“Dinners ready. Go get Daryl and come eat.” He brushed your hair behind your ear and smiled. He was looking at you, but not really looking at you. 

“Okay.”

You managed to drag Daryl down from the watchtower for dinner without much complaining. But to your confusion, the group only stayed around the table for about ten minutes to chat, eat their roasted trout and canned asparagus, and then they left. Not one at a time either. 

When you finished the last few bites of your dinner, Rick took you into the warden's office, a nice secluded space with comfortable chairs and a pretty brown desk table.

You looked up from the table to see Rick walking back with a bottle of wine in hand, a sly smile on his face.

You raised a brow and smirked as he poured it into two plastic cups, setting yours in front of you before sitting down. 

“This what I think it is?” You teased, taking a sip of wine to cool your nerves. You were anxious as hell, although your calm and amused exterior didn't show it. 

Was Rick Grimes, leader of your group, seriously flirting with you? Beyond the usual innocent playfulness? 

“Depends on what you think it is. Date? Yes. Work conference? No.” He took a sip. 

“So, you just tell them all to stay away from here? They know?” You suddenly blushed at the idea of the group knowing Rick was sweet on you. It felt like dating the cool kid in school all over again. 

“Well, not exactly that, but yeah, they know.” He looked at you then in a way that made you nervous. It was the way he used to look at Lori. All soft eyed and smiles.

You barely knew him, like really knew him, you hung around Carol, Carl and Glenn more than anyone else, it just felt too out of place for you to hang out with Rick or Daryl. That role was better suited for Maggie or Michonne. 

When he had asked you to go out on that run a few days ago with him, just him, you were stunned. And now here he was, serving you dinner and fancy wine like you were his wife. 

“Why? I mean, why me?” 

He furrowed his brows and looked at you thoughtfully, as if he didn't quite know the answer himself. He took another sip of wine before answering. 

“I don't know why. I just know I like you.” 

You grinned a bit at that. “You like me, huh? It's cause of my Kardashian looks isn't it?”

Rick laughed and shook his head. “Kardashian looks huh? Yeah, sure.” 

The tension from your end quickly faded the more you talked. 

You couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of guilt the more Rick flirted with you. Lori had died not too long ago, and even though he seemed completely fine, you worried it was him finding unhealthy ways to cope. 

You didn't know he already had a lifelong coping mechanism, and you were another thing entirely. 

Murder was always common in the apocalypse. You'd seen more victims of humans than you could count. 

Moving into Alexandria though, it seemed like almost every time you went outside the walls you'd find a new dead body a few miles away, obviously done by a human and not the dead.

“Jesus.” Daryl muttered, using a stick to move a dead man's head to the side, showcasing the dramatic knife wound to his cheek. 

“They're getting closer to home.” You muttered, looking down at the body near your feet as Daryl poked at it. 

“Yeah.” He agreed. He dropped his stick and stood up, shaking his head. “Sorry sonvabitch that did this better hope he don't come any closer.” 

That night Rick gave you another piece of jewelry. A silver thumb ring, long but not visually remarkable. 

“This is actually really pretty.” You said as you slipped it on your thumb, opposite hand of the other ring Rick gave you in the past. 

“Yeah?” Rick grinned, looking over his shoulder as he took the dishes from dinner to his sink.

He'd invited you over for dinner. You appreciated it, it had been a while since you had time alone with the man. You'd begun to miss him and his daring flirtation. 

“Yeah, don't need to worry about it snagging on anything either. Can wear it when I go out.” Your fingers continued fidgeting with the ring, spinning it around your thumb as you watched him clean up. 

He dried his hands and walked over to you, offering out a hand, an act that made your stomach do flips. “I'm glad you like it.”

You took his hand, warm, his fingers so large and thick they made yours look like they belonged to a pianist in comparison. 

He led you from your seat at the dining room table to his living room, leaving you on the couch while he went to dig through a basket.

You watched him from your spot on the couch as he put a DVD in the player under the living room tv. You wondered then, would they be gone all night? Carl, Michonne, Daryl? Did he tell them to find somewhere else to sleep for the night? 

You blushed wildly at the idea of everyone in Alexandria knowing Rick was trying to have sex with you. 

“How long will they be gone?” You blurted.

Rick turned to you after turning on the TV, a brow raised. “Couple hours. Why?” 

“Well, if it's gonna be a sleepover I gotta get my stuff.” You laughed nervously, cursing yourself for sounding so awkward and timid. 

“I didn't plan on it, but,” he groaned dramatically as he plopped down onto the cushy couch next to you, “-the idea is tempting.” 

You realized you were wrong in your assumption that he was trying to get laid. Fuck. That was embarrassing.

He seemed open to it though, right? Or were you just so touch deprived that you were fooling yourself into reading him the wrong way?

You watched the first Twilight movie and laughed most of the time, but you caught Rick watching intently at the baseball scene. 

“I'm so pissed the outbreak had to happen when it did. We were two months away from the sequel. Two months! That means they finished it and it's on some hard drive somewhere, never to be seen.”

Rick smiled at your complaining, that same look of strange admiration on your face. 

You still didn't know how to react to it, on one hand, it was extremely flattering and you were starting to get turned on, but on the second hand it rationally was a little off-putting. Maybe he really did just have a thing for you, maybe it was just as simple as that. 

His gaze should've made you blush and swoon, and it definitely did, but… there was something about it that set your teeth on edge. Far too intimidating.

“Maybe we'll find it one day.”

“That would be the day we have a real slumber party. Popcorn, sodas, everything.”

“Yeah? Gonna braid each other's hair too?” He teased.

You scoffed and playfully punched his shoulder. The man didn't even budge, like he was made of stone. “Can you braid?”

“Damn good at it.”

You gaped at him in amused disbelief. “No shot!” 

“C'mere.” Rick's knees spread and he tapped his shoe on the floor between his feet. 

You gulped some wine before quickly shrugging, and got on the floor, your feet tucked neatly under your butt. 

His hands felt illegally good. He brushed your hair over your shoulders and ran his fingers through it, from your roots down to the ends. Each time his fingertips ran down your scalp you were given a fresh wave of goosebumps, and when they brushed against the back of your neck you visibly shivered. 

Rick wasn't lying. He managed to give you a beautiful braid, working with what was given to make something you'd be happy to wear on a fancy date. You ran your fingers over the braid and scoffed in shock. 

“It's so pretty.” You admired the way the necklace he had given you back at the prison was on full view, no longer hidden or covered by your hair. It sat right at your collarbone, and the neckline of your black and red dress framed it perfectly.

When Rick said ‘wear something nice’ for dinner you immediately panicked and went to Rosita. She picked out a beautiful dress for you, it was classy but not over the top, pretty to look at but also comfortable to lay around in. 

You looked at him in the mirror in front of you. He was looking at you again, but different this time. 

Less wholesome admiration, more… desire. He had little readable expression but the bit you could read had your lower stomach flipping with excitement. 

You turned to face him and took a second to appreciate the way the black button up shirt hugged his muscles just so slightly. It wasn't the cover of some smutty werewolf or vampire novel, but fuck, it had your knees feeling weak. 

“Told you.” 

It took you a moment to process what he meant, but when you did, you smiled and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you did. Where'd you learn to braid like this?”

“Same place they taught me how to pick up women.” He winked. You both laughed. 

You ended up back on the couch with a different movie put in. Neither of you were paying any attention to it though, your focus slowly shifting to each other.

“Think they'll be back soon?” You had the courage to flirt all of a sudden. 

Maybe it was the wine that had loosened you up, or maybe it was the fact he looked so hot in that shirt and smelled like sandalwood and jasmine. 

“Hm, maybe.” He flirted back, an edge of tauntful tease to his voice. “Why?”

“Well, usually after a date goes this well…” You trailed off and wiggled your eyebrows. Your boldness surprised the both of you, and he couldn't help but chuckle. 

“Yeah? What's that?” He hummed, his smile slowly fading when he looked from your eyes to your lips. 

“Girl shows the guy a good time.”

“That right?” He leaned in, and you could smell his cologne stronger than before. You closed your eyes and bit back a sigh. 

“Maybe, I don't know. Never been on a date this good.” You leaned in, mirroring his movements, looking down to his lips. 

“How about the guy shows the girl a good time, huh? How about that?” His voice was breathy then, warm and smelling like expensive wine. 

You nodded and he smiled, breaking past the last few inches to kiss you. 

He was so soft. His hands cupped your cheeks with a featherlight caress, and his lips were equally as gentle. He moved them against yours, his tongue slipping out to trace along your wine stained lips. You parted your lips and moaned at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth. 

Rick guided you on your back, just as gentle as every man you'd seen on all those romance movies you pretended to cringe at. His hand under the small of your back had a wave of wetness seeping out of you, you had underestimated how truly touch starved you were. 

It wasn't long before he had led you up to his bedroom. You were astonished at how neat everything was. Bed was made, sheets looked fresh out of the wash. 

He had his revolver laid out on his dresser along with a few other melee weapons, his machete, axe, and a long dagger. Everything was perfectly organized. 

And there, in the duffel bag peeking out from under his bed, sat his cassette player. 

Once the door was closed behind him he wasted no time in undressing you, popping open the buttons on the back of your dress. He moved slow and meticulously, brushing the sleeves off your shoulders to plant a few kisses on the warm skin there. 

You sighed at his touch and pressed your back against his chest, aching to feel him envelop you in his warmth. 

He took his hands away from your sides to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt but you turned and placed your hand on top of his. He looked at you curiously and you returned a sheepish smile. 

“You look really good in these clothes.” 

He grinned when he realized your intentions and he left his shirt buttoned, save for the three at the top. 

Rick looked unbelievably sexy then, a few golden curls of chest hair visible from the slit in his shirt, his hair slightly ruffled from your hands, and a face so blown with lust that you could touch yourself to it for more than one orgasm. 

Then he had you on his bed sprawled out for him, your arms lying above your head as you watched him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. When he pulled the zipper down, and pulled his cock out, you literally whimpered at the sight. It was beautiful, like the picture perfect example of a male penis. Perfect girth, perfect length, even the mess of brown and blonde pubes were stunning. 

You could go on forever about Rick Grimes’ dick. 

He gave a smug smirk as he moved to take his place over you, pulling down your dress the rest of the way and immediately planting his smug little face between your legs. 

You gasped and threw your head back against the mattress. He nuzzled your clothed clit with his nose, inhaling your scent and sneakily stroking his dick with his right hand. With the other he held onto your left thigh, fingers digging into the skin there.

He took his time working you up, licking and sucking and even once nipping your clit through the fabric of your panties. 

You were a whimpering mess by the time he pulled his head away and went to take your panties off. 

He stopped your hand and you looked up at him, brows furrowed. 

“These look really good on you.” He smirked. 

Your head fell back into the mattress when he pulled your panties to the side. Thank GOD you took the cute panties Rosita offered you. If you were wearing one of your practical sets of underwear you would've died from embarrassment.

He rubbed his finger through your folds, gathering your slick to rub across your clit. You let out a pathetic whine and grabbed fistfuls of cotton sheets beside your head. 

He took his time. He slipped in his middle finger up to the knuckle, curling it painfully slowly. Bless Lori, or whoever the fuck taught him that. You were definitely coming tonight. 

“Rick, ah, mmm, god.” A hot puff of air from your lips blew a stray lock of hair from your face, a result from your braid having become messy. 

He tsked once and drew his finger back, wiping the wetness off on the head of his cock. 

You were basically on the edge of your seat at this point, leaning up on your elbows to watch every move he made. 

He ran his hands over your torso, ignoring your breasts which made you whine in disappointment. 

His eyes flicked up to you, and you were filled with an unexplainable sense of anxiety. Like there was something in you, dating way back to when you needed instincts to survive. Your instincts were telling you that you needed to leave, now. You were in danger. 

Every hair on your arms, thighs, the back of your neck, they all prickled. Your upper lip twitched, as if it wanted to pull back and show him your teeth.

“You just tell me to stop, and I will, okay?” His voice was low. 

Your blood ran cold.

“What?” You whispered, your bottom lip trembled, and you found breathing became a difficult task. 

He repeated himself, his voice still just as low, that same dangerous look on his face. He moved quickly. 

He was inside you before you had time to adjust, his hand covering your mouth to muffle the pained noises you made. He groaned into your neck and buried himself deeper inside you, his dick twitching as your walls spasmed around him. He pulled out slowly, savoring the tight drag of your hot cunt, before plunging back in. 

Rick was rough, rougher than you could have ever predicted. It was so strange, earlier he was so soft and gentle. He fucked you hard and rough like that for a few long minutes before flipping you over on your stomach. 

His hands were on your hips. His fingers digging painfully into your soft skin. He used his upper body weight to render your lower half helpless beneath his open palms. 

He groaned as he watched his dick disappear back into you, his eyebrows knitted tightly together and his mouth hanging open. 

“Je-jesus christ.” Your moan was strangled in your throat as his hands closed around your neck. 

You didn't have time to take a preparation breath, he squeezed quick and hard, immediately cutting off all blood and air flow to your brain. You tried to pry his fingers away and off of you but he didn't relent, only squeezing harder. 

Your vision blurred and your head swam with thick panic, you dug your fingernails into the back of his hand until his grip loosened.

The lungful of air you sucked in felt fresher than any breath you'd ever taken. You didn't have long before his fist was in your hair, yanking your head to the side to stuff your discarded panties into your mouth. 

You whimpered in protest but he just shoved your face into his pillows and plowed deeper into you. 

It wasn’t quick at all, quite the opposite. 

He fucked you like that for what felt like hours. It was realistically maybe twenty minutes, but that was still a long time to get fucked. 

Your body trembled underneath him from the exhaustion of back to back orgasms. He had already came inside you once, and you felt a small sense of relief, but he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He just moaned into your neck and continued battering your insides.

You were spent. Every part of your body ached, your pussy felt raw and your clit throbbed painfully. Your stomach and chest chafed against his comforter, and right before it got too much he flipped you over.

Rick looked down at you like you were a painting he finally finished after months of perfecting.

He slid his warm rough hands over your chest, pinching your sore nipples, squeezing your red breasts. 

His eyes found your necklace and he rolled his hips, earning a muffled whine in response. Then they found the ring on your middle finger, and rolled into you again. The thumb ring on your other hand. Your body shivered when he slammed his pelvis forward.

You couldn’t respond in any way, you pulled your panties from your dry mouth and panted, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

He changed completely after he finished. He peppered kisses all over you, sweet and soft against your cheeks, down your neck and chest, tender and soft on your nipples. 

He took care of you after, he cleaned you with a cool rag and brought you one of his white t shirts to change into. He silently asked you to stay the night with more gentle kisses after you attempted to leave.

You shouldn't have been snooping, you knew it was wrong.

The song felt chilling after what you’d witnessed throughout your time in knowing him, and the night you'd shared. 

You sat at the foot of his bed and listened, unaware of the way your fingers had begun to twitch around the tape player. 

Something about it felt wrong, like you were listening to Gloomy Sunday after hearing the legend surrounding it as a child again. Your heart raced as the song finished and you put the cassette player back where you found it, in his duffle bag at the foot of his bed. 

You made it down the stairs before you rounded the corner and smacked right into a large chest. 

“Jesus woman.” 

You let out a breath when you saw it was Daryl. Covered in dirt and smelling like cigarettes and gasoline, a familiar sight that sets you at ease. 

“Shit, sorry.”

He'd been slightly annoyed at the way you startled him, but something had caught his eye and his irritation faded. 

“Y'alright?” He grunted, looking at you with a raised brow. 

“Yeah, I'm okay.” You nodded. He eyed you suspiciously before leaving without a goodbye, heading up the stairs to Rick's room. 

“He's not here.” 

He stopped in his tracks and turned to look down at you. “Where's he at then?”

“I don't know.”

You found out the reason for his staring when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror. You'd need to wear turtlenecks for the next few days. 

Rick was thrown off his game without his music. He was more aggressive, sloppy, and hateful in the way he killed. 

“Please!” His voice sounded pathetic. It made Rick curl his top lip in disgust as he watched him squirm against his restraints, the bodies of his loved ones littering the ground next to him. 

“Don't leave me here.” He begged as the chill of night crept through the thick trees they found themselves in. It carried the smell of rain, rotten leaves and cigarette butts. 

“Give me one good reason.” Rick held his bloodied machete as he observed the man. 

Young, maybe early twenties. Black hair, a black ‘beard’, which was too patchy to really qualify as one, and an orange sweater. The sweater had been mostly stained a reddish brown from his blood, and the blood of his friends, which all had the mercy of a better fate than what awaited him.

His body sagged as he twisted against the pine, his wrists burning and bruising from the frayed rope. 

“I'm a good man. Never done anything wrong. Never killed, never raped anyone-”

“Aw, well, ain't that nice of you?” Rick sneered, slipping the machete in the back of his belt. “How gracious.”

“I got a dog, man, please.”

Rick chewed on the inside of his cheek before taking his machete back out again. 

The man erupted into more begging and crying as Rick approached him. He let out a short lived scream before looking down to see his hands were now freed and in front of him. 

“Wh-”

“Ten seconds.” Rick's revolver felt firm in his grip. “Ten,”

The man stood stunned for a moment, holding his aching wrists, his eyes darting from Rick to the bodies at their feet. 

“Nine.” Rick's voice was louder then, like a father giving his child one last warning to start acting straight. 

“Eight!” 

The man took off through the woods, and there was no reason to count any longer. 

You ran your fingers over the cold metal in your hands. It was stunning, something you never would've dreamed of holding before the outbreak. A gold chain, thin but strong. Not dainty enough that it could be broken off with a snag.

Small red beads dangled from the chain, twelve rubies spread out along the length. They looked like little drops of wine.

“Where did you get this?”

It was the first time you'd asked him a question before thanking him for his gifts. 

He silently took the bracelet from your hands and clasped it around your wrist, his fingertips ghosting over the veins of your arms.

“In a jewelry box. That neighborhood I stopped at last week.”

You watched his fingers part from your wrist and the dangling rubies sway. You knew it was a lie. 

“You ever get stuff like this for anyone else?” 

He chuckled and leaned back on the couch, his eyes never leaving your form. “No.”

You looked over your shoulder at him and sighed, unable to keep the smirk from spreading on your face when you saw the way he was looking at you. “You know, I really like sweets too.” 

He raised a brow and broke into a grin. “Sweets, of course,right. What, chocolates? Candy?”

“Mhmm. Dark chocolate with sea salt. Or, chocolate with raspberries.” Your mouth watered as you recalled the old luxuries you'd once taken for granted. 

“Alright. Noted.” 

Being alone with Rick in his house was something that should've scared you. Especially considering what you'd seen in the past, and the darker side of him in bed. 

But looking at him in his form fitting white tee-shirt, the fireplace covering him in a warm orange glow, your degenerate lust filled brain made none of that matter. 

“C'mere.” His hand beckoned you to him from its spot on the back of the couch. 

You hesitated for appearances, not wanting to come off too eager, before eventually giving in and leaning back. 

His arm slipped from the couch above you and wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into his embrace. 

You rested your cheek on his chest and inhaled the smell of his cologne. It was deep and dark, you recognized it as his bottle of  “Leather and Embers”, whatever the hell that meant. As you savored the smell he pressed his face into your scalp and soaked in your smells, rose and eucalyptus shampoo, wisteria lotion. It was so light and feminine and so utterly you that just the smell made his dick twitch in his jeans. 

“Gonna go on a supply run with a few others tomorrow. Need some ammo. You wanna join me?”

“Depends.” You pretended to think about it for a second, a playful smirk on your lips. “Who’s all going?”

Rick hummed and squinted, playing along with your thoughtful act. “Me, Carol, Aaron, Glenn, Maggie. Daryl might come, hasn’t decided yet.” You snorted at the idea of Daryl ever turning down work. 

“All of us gonna fit in that itty-bitty car?”

“Taking separate cars. Cover more area that way.” His hand gave your shoulder a slight squeeze and you looked up to see him leaning in for a kiss. You met him halfway and smiled against his lips as his other arm wrapped around you.

You grinned, full of pride, as you walked through the gap between two small houses to find Rick, holding two ammunition boxes. One was half full of buckshot shells, the other completely full of 9mm ammo.

He started searching the first house on the block, so he should be at the third right about-

You froze in the doorway as you took in the scene in front of you. 

You could see the back of Rick standing in the center of the dining room, the bodies of one man and two women laid across the long table in front of him. 

He was taking earbuds out from his ears and putting them into his back pocket, his hands so covered in blood that his fingers seemed to melt together. 

You must've made a noise because he turned around. 

What was once a look of serenity instantly turned like the tides of an ocean. His eyes no longer resembled a warm blue sky, instead a clash of dark and stormy gray.  

His lips moved in the form of your name, but you didn't react. 

You looked from body to body, taking in the gruesome ways they'd been killed. One woman had her throat slit with so much force that you could see bone. 

Another had countless stab wounds in her chest and a few on her neck. It looked angry, and much more violent than anything you'd ever been unfortunate enough to see.

 The man had been gutted, his organs sloshing out of him to lay between his body and what you assumed to be the body of his wife.

Your body didn't react when his hands grabbed your shoulders. You didn't even notice that he'd approached you, his hands raised, his knees slightly bent to make himself appear smaller, less of a threat.

When he turned you around to lead you out of the house you caught a glimpse of three chocolate bars in a plastic bag sitting at the front door. 

“I need you to look at me.”

You blinked and took in your new surroundings. You were sitting on the hood of your car, his bloodied hands on your knees. The contrast of deep red against your skin had a groan catching in your throat. 

Rick's voice snapped your name and you looked to his face. He looked prepared, as if he'd imagined this scenario countless times before. 

“What you just saw-”

“I know.”

“No, you don't. I had to, I-”

“Rick.” The coldness of your voice had him forgetting the way he'd been frustrated at you for interrupting him again. “You don't lie to me. Not me.” 

His face softened, but he felt an uncomfortable tightening in his throat and chest. He nodded, his eyes falling away from yours to look at your knees. 

When he saw the blood he drew his hands away as if he'd been stung. 

“You killed them and you liked it.”

As quick as a snake his hand shot out and grabbed the base of your throat. His eyes were back on yours now, freezing you with a cold stare. “It’d be in your best interest to forget what you saw here.” 

Your body didn't react the way either of you expected it to. You grabbed at his wrist and let out a whimper, your thighs clenching together so hard they trembled. 

His grip loosened as he saw your form tremble under him, not from fear, but arousal. He furrowed his brows and looked back to your eyes, studying each and every flicker in them. 

It was an unsteady standoff, neither of you knowing which move to make next. He experimented and tightened his hand again, earning another whimper from your lips. 

He took it a step further and with his other bloodied hand, he slipped his fingers between your knees, gently spreading them apart. 

With your thighs spread he filled the gap with his waist. He hooked two fingers in the belt loops of your shorts and tugged you down the hood closer to him, your pelvis bumping against the semi he had growing in his jeans. 

Rick groaned at the contact and leaned in to plant his face in the crook of your neck, his hand departing from your throat to trail down your chest. He toyed with the gold coin of your necklace, rubbing his fingertips over the warm metal. 

“Rick-”

“No, shh-shh-shh, you were being so good.” He groaned, his jeans rubbing your thighs as he softly pushed against you.

“I just, a shower, let's wait-” 

He growled in your ear and squeezed your thighs so tightly you let out a yelp. “No, think I'll have you right here.” 

His words sent a shiver down your spine and before you could react, he pushed you flat on your back. 

You were finally there, your muscles relaxing and your eyes closing, ready to surrender to Rick and let him have his way. But as always, something had to go wrong. 

The gurgling sound of a walker snapped you from your daze. 

Rick pulled away from you and used the machete from his belt to take out the first two. 

“Rick!” You called in a nervous voice, your eyes locked on the group of walkers behind the car. 

“Shit. Alright, get in.” He cursed and opened the passenger door for you. You slid into the seat, pulling your knees back just in time to avoid the heavy metal door being slammed after you. 

Your eyes followed Rick round the front of the car. Then, as if he was playing some weird joke, he took his hand back from the door handle and ran back into the house.

“Fuck.” You whispered, watching three walkers follow him to the door. You had your hand on the car door handle, ready to jump out after him and help, but before you could dig out your knife he reappeared in the doorway.

You shook your head when he finally sat down beside you and started the car. 

He plopped the bag in your lap and you stared down at it. 

The three chocolate bars. 

“I know you said dark chocolate, salt and raspberries n’whatnot. But this is all I could find.” He said it like he was apologizing, like he was dissatisfied with his findings. 

“Rick, I haven't had chocolate in so long that it could be some nasty rainbow white chocolate with sprinkles and I'd love it. Fuck.” You unwrapped the first bar and snapped off a small square. 

As soon as it hit your tongue you moaned, completely forgetting the scene from earlier. It was your favorite type, something you hadn't had in God knows how long. 

Rick smiled fondly as you swirled the chocolate around your tongue, looking at you the same way he'd looked at you at dinner, the same way he used to look at Lori. 

You were blissfully unaware, your eyes closed as you savored the flavor.

He bit his bottom lip and looked back to the road ahead, slowing down as he passed the road that the others had gone down. 

He raised a hand out the open window to Glenn, who'd returned a thumbs up, going inside to gather the others to head back home.

“Want a bite?” 

You smiled sweetly as he looked back to you and the open Butterfinger that was in your left hand, your favorite chocolate in your right. 

“Indulging ourselves, are we?” He smirked playfully as he took the Butterfinger from you and took a heaping bite. It was so big he'd taken half the bar and you scoffed, smacking his shoulder. 

“Geeze! Talk about being indulgent!” You teased and snatched the chocolate back, finishing it off with three more bites. 

 You ate your sweets in silence, and soon it had turned from a comfortable silence to a thick cloud of tension when you pulled up to the gates of Alexandria.

He called your name and you forced yourself to look at him. 

Rick's expression was hard to gauge. 

It almost seemed like a mask, now that you'd seen what he was capable of doing, it felt like you were sitting beside a stranger. Your heart sped up, you were suddenly scared of saying or doing the wrong thing, sending him into aggression or something worse. 

“Yeah?” Your voice sounded foreign to you. Almost as foreign as the way Rick was looking at you. 

He waited a few painfully long moments before the essence of a smirk formed on his lips that were still speckled with blood. “I'm making dinner tonight. You should come.”

You blew out a lungful of air and nodded. “Okay, yeah, I will.”

“Wear somethin’ nice.” His voice was barely a whisper. You didn't have time to ask him to clarify before the gates opened and he drove you in. 

You felt a bit ridiculous in your dark blue dress. It was extremely snug, almost uncomfortable, ending right at your knees, drawing attention to the curve and dip of your hips and waist. There was no one else for dinner, thank god, because you felt seconds away from a panic attack.

Fettuccine noodles with Carol's homemade alfredo sauce. Despite your painful anxiety you wolfed the creamy noodles down, along with a heaping glass of dark red wine. 

It was painfully tense. You found yourself wondering how the car ride home had been completely fine, it hadn't been awkward at all, not until you pulled up to the gates. It might have been the adrenaline and shock. 

Now it had worn off and you were finishing your second glass of wine, praying for the buzz to kick in so you wouldn’t feel like you were on the verge of an anxiety attack anymore. 

“Can we talk?” His voice made you jump. You looked up from your empty plate to his face, which had been thoroughly cleaned of the blood from earlier.

You didn't respond verbally. You gave a small nod and he inhaled deeply, his eyes falling from your face to the table. 

After a moment he looked back up to you. 

“I need to know you won't… you won't tell anyone. Things are still pretty tense here, these people already see me as someone to watch out for. I don't need them fearing me.”

“Fear could be a good thing.” You don't know why you said it. 

He managed a slight smile, clasping his hands together in front of his chin. “Yeah. It can be. But not this type of fear.”

“So what are you? Jack the ripper of the apocalypse?”

Rick cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. He folded his arms across his chest, his fingers tapping on his biceps, covered in a thick black sweater. 

“Alright. Nevermind.” You sighed. You finished off your wine and scratched your chin absentmindedly, still looking at his face. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Long time.”

You managed to hide your shock, and nodded. “Before the outbreak?”

He nodded, his eyes not leaving the silverware crossed over his empty plate. 

He didn't look guilty or ashamed like one logically should be. A bit uncomfortable, uncertain, a hint of worry and dread. You knew he was praying this conversation would go well and he wouldn't have to do anything devastating to secure keeping his position in the group as the fearless, honorable leader. 

“Did Lori know?”

Now he looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “No.” Of course she wouldn't have, what a stupid question. 

“Okay.” It was quiet until you finally gained the courage to address the elephant in the room. “Rick, are any of us in danger?”

Your question caused a drastic change in his demeanor. He leaned forward with an expression that was a mix of hurt and assurance, and you already knew the answer. 

“No, of course not.” He breathed, his hands tentatively crossing the table. “I would never hurt any of you people. You're my family. All of you. Even those,” he waved a hand over his shoulder, “stuck up pricks Deanna led.”

You wanted to believe him. You had no choice, honestly, you had no other option. You knew Rick was a good leader, even if he made rash and emotional decisions. He always listened to the opinions and advice of others, he always took their says into account. If he hadn't done it this far, there was no reason to believe he'd start doing it now that you knew. 

You weren't justifying it by any means. What he did was vile, monstrous, egregious. Nothing would ever change that. It just wasn't the old world anymore, you had bigger problems to worry about, as ironic as it sounded. 

“Okay.” 

You closed your eyes as he rounded the table and put his hands on your shoulders. You wished you could just turn your brain off, wipe your memory and forget, and your stomach churned with nausea. Not at the memory or knowledge of his little weekend hobby, but at the realization that it didn't bother you as much as it should've.

“Can I make it up to you?” His breath warmed your ear as his palms slid up and down your biceps. 

God, you were sick. You were disgusting. 

“Yeah.”

Carl was home, and so were Carol, Michonne and Daryl, so you led him back to your house across the street. 

Your house was almost an exact mirror image of his, same porch, same paint, same layout and everything. In fact, your bedroom window was a straight shot across from his. 

You shivered, remembering the times you'd play with him through your window, randomly flipping him off or giving him a thumbs down for no reason at all. It was so innocent.

A tingle spread through your core knowing the man who'd make silly gestures and faces at you through his window at night just to see you laugh was the same man who had gutted humans for kicks. 

You stood in your room, looking at his black window across the street as his hands worked to free you from your tight dress. He chuckled at the sight of your ass stuffed in the fabric, running his hands down your waist to grab the bottom of your dress and pull up. 

“Where'd you get this thing?” He mused, attempting to fix your hair from the battle of pulling it over your head. 

“Tara. She found it on a run, said the color suited me.” You snorted.

His arms wrapped around your now bare body, hands cupping the soft flesh of your breasts and kneading. 

“Hmm.” His face nuzzled in the back of your hair, inhaling your clean scent and enjoying the way it felt against his skin. You were just his polar opposite, so soft, sweet, where he was hard and rugged. So kind, patient, his pretty feminine contrast. 

You were trying so hard to hold it together and not beg him to fuck you the same way he'd fucked you the other night. You craved it. 

Ever since he had you that night you craved it. Craved the raw pain and utter helplessness. You craved more.

“Rick.” You whispered, placing your hands over his, their position still tender and gentle over your chest. 

“Hmm?” The sudden feeling of his knee between your thighs made you moan. He pressed it up higher, pushing firm against your panties, the soft gray pair that was far too tiny to wear in any other scenario. 

He grinned against the back of your neck at the realization, you'd put these on just for him.

“Speak, sweetheart.” He breathed, parting your hair to kiss your neck. 

Rick was doing a good job of making it hard to remember what you were planning on saying in the first place. He kissed down your neck, his hands sliding down your torso to rest on your hips to guide you forward towards your bed. 

“Got you something.” He muttered into your neck before he pulled back to push you on the bed. 

He dipped his fingers into the front pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a folded napkin. He glanced up at you, his eyes almost looking hesitant. 

You swallowed hard and watched him unfold the napkin, his movements slow, until he knelt on the floor in front of you and showed you his gift. 

“Oh.” You couldn't think of what to say. Earrings, small orbs that were a deep red color. On either side of the orb sat two diamonds, much smaller than the rubies.

“You like ‘em?” He urged, looking up at you, eager, desperate for your approval. Like his life depended on you putting them on. 

“Of course I do.” You nodded, and took them from the napkin in his open hands. 

His lips bloomed into a smile as you put them on. His eyes followed each move you made. 

The second you put the last one on he was on you, his lips on yours, a hand on your throat giving a gentle squeeze that sent excitement fluttering in your stomach.

You groaned, tilting your head back to give him better access. Wordlessly begging him to squeeze harder. 

He didn't get the hint, only dipping his head down to kiss the bottom of your chin. 

“Rick.” You drawled, your head dizzy and light from his touches and kisses. 

“Hmm.”

“You know how,” you sucked in a sharp breath as he nipped the skin below your ear, immediately going to kiss the reddening spot in an apology. “The other night you- you were rough?”

He pulled back, his hand relaxing around your throat, his fingers unfolding to simply press against the side of your neck. 

There was a look of sympathy, regret maybe. He nodded, his eyes soft and locked on yours. “I shouldn't have, I'm sorry. You're just…” he sighed, the sound coming out with a shudder. “Was it too much?”

“No.” You immediately answered, shaking your head. “I liked it.” Your words had an obvious affect on him. The sympathy was gone, completely replaced with building excitement. 

“I want that again.” 

He closed his eyes. His fingers twitched against the side of your neck before slowly bending back into a firm grip around your throat. 

“Don't, don't hold back this time, please.” 

When his eyes opened you got that same shock of fear you felt the first time, but unlike the first time there was no uncertainty. 

You whimpered when you felt his hold on your neck loosen. “I can take it.”

He took his bottom lip between his teeth, his jaw flexing as he bit down. Putting on a good show, pretending he had to think about it. Pretending he was cautious. He knew what he would look like if he dove right in without hesitation. He'd look like the selfish, self indulgent man he truly was when it came to sex. 

He raised his eyes to yours, his lips splitting into a grin. You mirrored his expression, your heart hammering against your chest, grinning as he slid on top of you and onto the bed. 

“Tell me to stop an’ I will.” He reminded. 

“Not gonna happen.”

He chuckled, low and deep in his chest. His lips found their place back on your neck, and his hips between your thighs. 

You groaned the second you felt his dick through his jeans pressed up against you. The sensation was rough, almost painful the way he ground against your thin panties. 

The feeling of your nipples being pinched had you squeaking in surprise, your back arching. There'd been no warm up, just an immediate burning pinch.

Then a twist. 

“Oh, god!” You groaned deeply, your eyes clenching shut. The pain radiated much further than just your nipples, shooting down your breast tissue, almost all the way over your entire chest. 

“Sounds so good.” He muttered, planting his feverish lips against the cheeks of your scrunched up face. “Such pretty noises.” 

You put on a brave face, keeping your mouth tightly shut as he tested your limits, switching between pinching and twisting your sore buds. 

He was impressed. You whined and groaned, but you never told him to stop. He released them and you sucked in a breath, your back relaxing back into the mattress. 

“You have no fuckin’ clue,” Rick spoke, kissing down your chest. “How sexy you are. How sexy that was.” 

You wrapped your fingers in his curls as he kissed your sides, clenching his hair in your fists when he opened his mouth and gave a hard bite on your waist right below your ribs. 

“Fuck!” You gasped. Your legs instinctively bent at the knees, clenching around his torso under his armpits. 

“Too much?” He hummed, releasing you from his teeth. He rubbed a finger along the bite mark and you winced, but shook your head. 

Rick couldn't help but chuckle at the look on your poor pretty face. “Don't feel like you've got to impress me, sweetheart.” 

“No.” You shook your head again, quicker this time. “Not that.”

“Good.” He went back to working you over, planting kisses down to your thighs. 

Your body was beginning to relax at the gentle touches of his lips on you. But true to his nature, Rick ripped that feeling away, sending electricity through your heart and heat through your core when he sunk his teeth into the inside of your upper thigh. 

Right below your panties he bit, over and over, sometimes just a nip, then a rough, teeth-gritting bite on the other thigh. 

You were unbelievably wet. Your hole burned, desperate to have something inside it, anything.

His fingers grabbed your panties and tugged them down, and you got exactly what you'd prayed for. 

The middle finger, his longest, slipped into you and pulled out a moan from your lips. He watched your face as he curled it, each curl and drag making you come more and more undone. 

He'd be content to finger you for hours. Watching the glint of red on your ears when you'd turn your head, or the glimmer of gold under your collarbone when you'd arch your back. He almost came when he saw your fingers wrap around the golden pendant.

You were having the time of your life, squirming on your bed as he knelt between your knees and made you come. 

“Oh, fuck, Rick!” You gasped, bending your knees again, wanting to wrap your legs around something, a waist, a head, but they were empty and you just slammed your knees together when the cord in your belly snapped. 

“Shit.” Rick cursed, watching your face as you came. The faces you made, it made his chest tighten and the smallest, faintest, tiniest lump form in his throat. You were too beautiful. Too perfect, covered in his trophies, his trophy. All his work in the last year perfectly laid on your naked body. 

You moaned behind closed lips, your eyes finally opening as your orgasm died down.

Your stomach flipped at the sight of Rick sitting there, staring at you. His eyes flicked up to yours when he saw them open. His shoulders rose and fell heavily, his nostrils ever so slightly flared. 

“Rick?” You breathed his name, blinking away the fog in your eyes. 

The image of him spreading your knees with his hands, those beautiful big hands, and crawling up your body set your core on fire again. You felt more wetness leaking out of you as he pushed his hips back between yours, forcing a soft moan from your throat. 

He fumbled with his belt, leaving it through the loops, knowing you liked the clinking sound it made when he fucked you. 

Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw the first flash of his dick. It looked much darker in the dim lighting of your room and the sight of his thick pubes made your stomach flip again. It was so masculine, so primal, it drove you insane. 

“C'mere.” Rick huffed before kissing you again, tearing your gaze away from his dick. 

You hummed into his lips, wrapping your fingers back in his cold hair. You'd succeed in making his slicked back hair messy, and thick curls fell down his forehead and tickled yours. 

He smelt so good, his shampoo and his cologne. His breath as well, which led you to believe he'd brushed his teeth when he used your bathroom. With your toothbrush. 

Even though he was sliding the tip of his dick around your slippery pussy, the thought of him using your toothbrush made you blush. 

“Mmm, hah-” He grunted as he pushed into you, spewing out a string of curses as your walls squeezed him the way he'd squeezed your neck. 

You felt a bit of pride at his reaction, and bit back a smile when he pressed his forehead against your shoulder to steady himself.

The feeling of his heavy cock sitting unmoving inside you finally sets your mind into a blank state. You breathed through your lips, slow and deep, trying to control your racing heart. The anticipation was killing you. 

“Did you mean it?” He spoke, the sound of his low voice startling you. 

When you didn't immediately answer he rolled his hips, and you moaned. 

“When you said you can take it?” He continued, his hands moving from their place on your hips up your sides. 

“Yes.” You answered with an eager nod. 

He breathed out, and grinned, looking down at you with a sleazy and cocky expression. “Should've fucked you a long time ago.”

Before you could agree he pulled out an inch, and slowly pushed back in. You whimpered and tilted your hips upwards, already becoming greedy and impatient. 

He teased you like that for a while, barely pulling out, slowly pushing back in, and it soon had you a whiny mess.

“Harder.” You whined, your fingers curling repeatedly around a lock of his hair. 

“Yeah?” He hummed with a smile, pulling back out a little further, but still pushing back in just as slow. He pulled back out and caught you off guard by slamming back into you, making you see stars and birds. 

“You like that? Huh?” He drawled, pulling back out even further, fucking his dick into you with another brutal thrust. "This what you want?"

You didn't respond with words, only nodding and moaning. 

The quick and rough snatch of your chin in his fingers had you sobering up real quick. He forced you to look at him, his pupils blown, his open lips in a breathy smile. “Asked you a question.”

“Yes. I love it. I love it Rick.” You babbled, nodding faster. “Please don't stop.”

He dug his thumbnail into your chin, holding your face in place as he thrusted into you. His index finger slipped between your lips and forced your mouth open. Before you could react he was spitting on your tongue, and using his finger to slide down the back of it. 

You gagged, a short and easy gag that wasn't uncomfortable. You could feel his dick twitch inside you at the sight and sound of you gagging on his finger. 

He fucked you normally for a minute, his pace rough and deep, but still not fast enough for your liking. 

“Sit up.” He grunted. You don't know why he even told you to because he was already moving you for him, grabbing you by your hips and moving until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet planted on the floor and you in his lap. 

The new angle had his dick much deeper. If he was only a few millimeters longer it would've been unbearable, but the pain was sharp and you loved it. 

“So pretty. Pretty girl.” He cooed, squeezing the flesh of your hips as he rolled his hips up against you. 

The image of him still fully dressed and you completely naked on his lap brought you closer to orgasm. As much as you loved it he was getting hot, and he had to take his jacket off and throw it behind you. 

The white T-shirt that was a little too small was just as hot. 

You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt so you wouldn't fall backwards and moved on him, lazily raising your hips in a way that complimented his own movements. 

Each time you moved back down he'd move up, forcing himself as deep as possible, deep bolts of pleasure shooting through your core each time you sank back down. 

Oh, finally, finally.

He picked up the pace. 

He gripped your hips and started moving you on his own, bouncing you up and down on his length. 

“Oh, god.” You blurted, tightening your grip on the front of his shirt. His rough mound of pubes dragged against your clit each time he tugged you down against him, and you were close. 

“Gonna -”

He quickly cut you off. “Gonna cum for me?” He breathed, and one hand left your hip. He dropped you down on his dick and started using the strength in his thighs and core to fuck up into you. 

You didn't have time to wonder where his hands went before his left one was in your hair, and his right was around your throat. 

He squeezed, much harder than before. Your face immediately felt tight and hot, and you had to fully open your mouth to gasp down air. Thankfully he was only cutting off blood flow, and you could still breathe. 

Not that it mattered much, because he quickly took your breath away with a slap to your face. 

You came hard and with a sharp cry, your thighs squeezing his waist as your hips jerked in his lap.

“That's right.” Rick hissed, and wrapped your hair around his fist and yanked. 

You didn't think it was impossible to reach a second high in the same orgasm, but you did. Your head spun as your body trembled against him. You couldn't process much of what happened, your mind was too fuzzy, your body buzzing to the point of shivering, twitching, and he slapped you again. 

You cried out, your eyes snapping open to find his face. 

He looked so beautiful. Face red in the dim lighting, that sexy stubble, his eyes dark with dilation. He looked just as ruined as you, but he was holding it together far better. 

“S’it okay?” He slurred, his movements slowing as he took a moment to rub your red cheek.

You never in your entire fucking life thought you'd enjoy being slapped on the face. And certainly not by a man. But you didn't just enjoy it, you loved it, you loved the feeling of Rick hurting you and getting turned on by it. You loved his wide hand making your cheek burn. 

“Stings a little.” You admitted, your voice raw from your vocal orgasm. “But, I liked it.”

“It stings?” He grinned lazily, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “Was being gentle.”

You groaned, jerking your hips forward and earning a low grunt from Rick. 

“Told you not to be gentle.” 

“You're right.” He leaned in and kissed you, deep and firm. He pulled back, but not before catching your bottom lip in his teeth and pulling you back with him. 

He rolled you over on your stomach and pushed back into you, taking a moment to kiss your shoulders and neck before getting back to screwing your brains out. 

You pushed your ass into him, eager to feel him as deep as you had when you were in his lap. It worked, the tip of his dick slipped past the curve of your walls and rubbed against the soft spot inside you. 

You should've pissed before sex, but it was too late for that now. You'd have to wait. Besides, the feeling was a guilty pleasure, something you'd feel embarrassed to admit, feeling him fuck into you when you needed to pee made each thrust feel ten times more intense. 

He wrapped your hair around his fist again, his movements extremely deliberate and precise, the same precision as braiding your hair. 

Rick used the grip on your hair to yank your head to the side. You let out a little yelp, and his other hand slid under you, finding your throat again. 

“How's it feel?” he lowered himself down to your ear. He held your head in place with your hair, his grip tightening and pulling every so often, bringing sharp tingles down your scalp and neck. 

“Having my hand around your throat.” He breathed. He kissed around the back of your neck, the tips of your shoulders, his hips slamming down against your upturned ass. 

“Feels so good.” You rasped, pushing yourself back into him to prove your point. You shoved your pillow to the side so your nose wasn't covered anymore, enjoying the feeling of air on the side of your hot face. 

“Is that right?” His teeth dug into the skin above your shoulder blades. "Love these hands?"

You couldn't answer. He'd tightened his grip around your throat and it wasn't just blood cut off from your brain anymore. 

“You know what I've done with these hands?” He groaned after you clenched down around him at his words. The feeling you got and the reaction you gave to his words was morally reprehensible. It was fucking disgusting. 

“Know how many?”

You should've felt ashamed that you came after that. But you didn't. Not at that moment, at least. Your walls squeezed around him and you tried to moan, but it was strangled out of you. 

It felt like seeing God, or something holy and ethereal. Your vision was flashes of white and black, flickering like strobe lights, your head felt like it was about to explode with pressure. Your eyes burned, but your pussy felt amazing. 

All you could do was grip onto the sheets beside your head and enjoy it, and pray you didn't pass out and miss the best post-orgasm glow of your life. 

Rick let out this strangled groan behind your head, his brutal bulldozing of your spasming cunt growing sloppy. He squeezed your throat harder as he came into you, fucking each drop back up inside you as he fell down from his high. He drew out every single wave of pleasure, even to the point of it becoming uncomfortable for him, his dick burning and tingling with overstimulation. 

His hand left your throat, and your head throbbed as the blood and oxygen rushed back up into it. You groaned, soft and pained, pressing your forehead into the mattress in an attempt to minimize the pain.

You couldn't really focus on it, thankfully, because the feeling of his dick dragging down and out of your trembling walls was too jarring. 

“Fuck.” You grunted, your waist moving to the side to get his dick away from where he had it sitting against your pussy. 

If you thought he was sweet after the first time, then he’s a bonafide angel this time. 

He turned you over and sat you up, brushing your damp hair away from your sweaty face. 

“Hey.” His palms smoothed down the sides of your head, fixing your wild hair. “You okay?”

“Mhmm.” You managed a very weak and crooked grin. 

He smiled in relief, and swiped his tongue under your nose, wiping away the small drop of blood that peeked out. 

After cleaning you up and helping you to the bathroom he slipped your favorite night dress over your head, not bothering with underwear. 

The post orgasm clarity was trying its damndest to make you feel like an awful piece of shit. Knowing what Rick had done to people who didn't deserve it. It was something you could never be okay with, but his lips kissing over every bite and bruise he'd given you did a good job taking your mind off it. 

“Beautiful.” He whispered against the bite marks on your neck and chest, planting another kiss on the next mark. “Look at you.” 

You knew you probably looked like you'd just crawled out of a car wreck. Your hair was still messy even though he'd tried to fix it, and your neck was a whole new problem. Bruises from his teeth and hands. Blood blisters from where he'd bitten down way too hard in some spots. Even though no vessels had burst in your eyes they were still red, and that wouldn't go away overnight. There were more turtlenecks in your future.

It was like art to Rick. You looked like art. He kissed your rings. His hands holding yours felt like they belonged to a completely different person, so gentle and light, as if you'd suddenly turned into glass and the slightest pressure would break you. 

He kissed your throat, the bottom of your chin, and your swollen lips. There was the faintest twinge of purple on your bottom lip, a line fitting the exact measurement of his top left incisor. 

“First time I've ever been fucked like that.” 

Rick chuckled, raising his head from your lips to look down at your blissed out face. 

“First time I've fucked like that.” He kissed your cheek before finally laying down beside you. 

It surprised you, even though it shouldn't have. You were the first person he'd fucked since Lori, and she seemed like the type to blanch over simple restraints like fuzzy handcuffs, no disrespect intended. 

“Is that what you think about?” You whispered, feeling your already burning cheeks get hotter. “When you're… Solo…” 

He let out a gruff chuckle. “Yeah.” He laid out his arm for you to move into him, and you did. You pressed against his side and rested your head on his chest, inhaling the scent of his deep sweat and the remnants of his cologne. 

“Is that all?” You asked, trying to sound confident. “Or, was there more?”

“More I wanted to try?” He humored you. You knew he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but the urge to know more was gnawing at you. When you nodded, he tilted his head to look up at the ceiling, which was now black from the lights being turned off. 

“Yeah. There's more.” He finally answered. 

You forced yourself to stop asking questions. You nodded against his chest and pressed yourself tighter against his side, nuzzling your head in an attempt to get more comfortable. 

“Can talk about it later, if you want.”

You smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @adribarbie @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[loanebarnes]

for me, there are characters who have suffered so much that they either become gentle and take care of their girlfriends as if they were made of porcelain, with vanilla sex, etc…

or they turn that pain into pleasure until you have red marks all over your body and you’re crying for more while they tease you until you’re about to faint.

(i need to sleep…)

[nekrosdolly]

feline delight (18+)

albert finds you on the streets. too cute to pass up, he takes you home against your will.

a/n; sorry this took so long! hope it was worth the wait :D

cw; half-alive dove maybe eat, cat hybrid!reader, afab!reader, owner!wesker, kidnapping, captivity, stockholm syndrome, drugging, dubcon/noncon, body betrayal, leashing + collaring, reader doesn't wear underwear, manhandling, breeding kink, wesker likes seeing you in pain sorry, no prep (please prep irl), unsafe sex (p in v, clitoral stimulation, creampie, implied multiple rounds)

tags; @4inchfae @thatgirlgames @whiskers-my-beloved @icecream596

albert never had a penchant for pets, let alone a hybrid like yourself. bringing you in may have been the best thing he'd done in years. you needed a home desperately, regardless of how much you scratched and clawed at him when he'd carried you off to his research facility without so much as an introduction. you hear him rustle around in his pockets with one hand and then, the uncapping of something. before you can look at what it is, a fine needle pierces right into the muscle of your neck. your vision fades within seconds, and you stop scratching.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

you didn't know what to expect, but waking up in a cage clean and clothed hadn't been on your list. you thought you'd surely be dead. but, there you were, with a black long sleeve shirt and skirt, thigh-highs adorning the better half of your legs, and a black leather collar around your neck. looking around, a small bell attached to your collar rings. not moments later, you hear footsteps. you look up at the man who has taken you in- tall, blonde, and very intimidating.

albert crouches before the kennel you're cowering in and looks you over as if he didn't get a good enough look when he bathed you. you hiss quietly and shrink into one of the corners furthest from him, cool metal digging into your back with each attempt to get further away.

behind his shades, his hazel eyes thoroughly examine you. the fear you give off is aromatic with a faintly sweet undertone of something more. gratefulness, perhaps. he did bathe you, clothe you, and put you in a very nice kennel of your own. your collar is a perfect fit, no less, and even though you didn't ask for any of this, it's more than you know what to do with. you've no bruises, no gashes, no injuries. how strange.

he's pondering what to say to get you to calm down. to trust him a little. maybe come out of the kennel, but that would be for later.

"hello." he places a gloved hand on the kennel's top rather carefully, so as not to startle you, and leans in just a bit. his voice is nicer than you would think. a bit nasally, sure, and the accent is cheesy, but he could read you the yellow pages and you wouldn't mind.

"…" your silence makes his jaw clench by a fraction. he'll have to fix that. for now, he'll ease you into things.

"what's your name, little one?"

"haven't got one." you rasp, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin atop them. ears flat against your head, your tail swishing- cautious and afraid, you are, and well within your rights to be.

he nods.

"we'll have to fix that, won't we?" he forces a little smile on his lips when you nod. you're not sure why you do when, two seconds ago, you'd have run off if the kennel door was opened. he's smart, he's thought this through. you're not leaving the kennel until you trust him, unbeknownst to you. your tail is ramrod stiff on the cushioned floor of your captivity, and at least he was kind enough to furnish it for you.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

it's hard to trust him even though you know it would be smart to pretend.

he only lets you out to feed you, and from the start, he'd made it clear that if you tried to run, you'd be dead. at the same time, twice a day, he opens the cage for you to crawl out of. he extends his hand to you, looping his gloved fingers around your collar and guiding you to sit by his feet. he links a leather leash through the d-ring attached to your collar and walks you through his home, the environment sterile and hardly lived in.

it's when he puts you in his lap at the dining table and force feeds you that he fills the tense silence. the food itself is good, and you wonder if under different circumstances, you'd want him to be your owner. as you eat, he talks. you are, to some extent, grateful that he feeds you, even if he is only doing the bare minimum.

"have you been good, dear?" he asks, and you nod as per usual. it's rare that you decide to talk.

"good girl." he scratches the spot behind your ear, forcing you to lean into his hand and purr. he chuckles quietly. as he pets you, his stress melts away. you're so cute. a meek, naive little thing that he loves taking care of.

as dinner finishes, he picks you up and keeps you in his arms as he cleans up. you're silent, sedated by the drug he's put in your food, and you're bodering on falling asleep in his arms. a swell of pride of warms his chest as a little snore escapes you, followed by your tail wrapping around his arm.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

day by day, bit by bit, you miss him. he keeps you company when he's not at "work" or whatever that is, he talks to you, he pets you the way you like, and it's nice when you forget about how you got here. the only thing you've come to dislike is the lack of underwear. it's not that he can't afford some, it's that he enjoys your discomfort to a worrisome degree. he likes its easy access, even if he hasn't taken advantage of it (or you) yet.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

he comes around and you find yourself less defensive, thanks to your breeding cycle. you press your face against the bars of your enclosure.

"owner," you whine as he walks past, a spark igniting in your gut. his scent is stronger than it was this morning, and you're hyperaware of the growing warmth filling your body.

"yes, dear?" he stands at his closet, his back to you as he strips himself of his work clothes.

"can i come out?" you paw at the door of your cage, ignoring the rattling noise it causes.

he doesn't respond immediately, letting you stew in your silence for a moment as he finds something more casual to wear. you don't normally ask to come out- this is progress, proof of your trust.

"in a moment. let me get dressed, darling."

it's enough for you to stop whining. your tail swishes happily and your ears perk up when he approaches the cage in grey sweatpants and a black shirt and crouches down to undo the lock to the cage. you practically jump into his arms, purring loud when he wraps his big arms around you and pulls you into his chest.

"thank you." you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. his smell, like poison, makes you dizzy with desire. the warmth is growing uncomfortable, your ears pinned flat against your head.

he hums in response as he strokes your hair, a purr emanating from the depths of your chest. the heat spreads the more he touches you, pooling between your thighs. he tries not to notice when you rub them together and mewl pathetically.

"is something wrong?" his voice is a match to the flame in your gut.

it's your turn to be silent, trying to even out your breathing despite the overwhelming urge to lean in and take a nice, long whiff of the pheromones he gives off.

"darling, answer me. you know better." he says in a more stern tone, looking down his nose at you.

"… i'm in heat." you state quietly, avoiding his gaze. if you could see his eyes, you're sure they'd be wide and a little bit dark.

"are you, now?" he hoists you up in his arms as he stands, his forearms just under your ass. you're bent slightly over his shoulder. "we'll need to remedy that, won't we, pet?" he chuckles. a chill runs down your spine. just what have you gotten yourself into?

he's not a mean lover, just a little rough. he sets you on his bed and pushes you down with a cold hand to your chest as he moves on top of you. anxiety cools your blood, makes it like ice pushing through your veins.

"wh-what are you…?" he presses a finger to your lips, silencing you, and kisses your cheek.

"i've been waiting a long time for this, darling. it would be wise to avoid making me wait more." there's a threatening undertone to his voice, the burn of discomfort making itself known in your shoulders. he wedges his knee between yours, forcefully parting your thighs so he can trail his hand up them, pinching here and there just to see you flinch, and smooth two fingers along your weeping slit. a hint of a smile makes itself known as you shudder, thighs parting wider to accomodate his hand. his cold digits stop at the very top, feeling for your puffy clit, and rubs slow, tight circles around it.

you hate that it feels good, and you hate yourself for having a breeding cycle. a soft moan leaves you at his light touch, your eyes locked on the hand rubbing your clit. he presses down a little firmer, eliciting a whine from you.

"look, doesn't that feel much better?" he croons, his voice low with his lips so close to your ear. reluctantly, you nod, and that earns you the reward of his fingers rubbing you a little faster. you squirm a little, trying to get more than just surface-level pleasure.

"words."

"y-yes. that feels good, thank you." a hint of malice laces through your tone, but you're grateful for what he's giving you. your face is on fire as only the pathetic wet noises from your cunt fills the air, and you (try to) hide your face in your hands, only to be met with a sharp slap to your cunt. you flinch, the pain subsiding after he continues playing with your cunt. your hands come down from your face and instead grab the sheets.

your stomach tightens, twists into a coil that winds tighter with every pass over your hardened clit. but you can't cum like this, not when your breeding cycle is ongoing.

"owner- p-please, need more." you whine, and albert kisses your cheek as a response, denying you of what you need.

"such a needy thing. fine. you'll get what you want." he takes his hand from your pussy and to the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down rather impatiently, as well as his boxers. weeping, his cock is bright red at the tip from want (how long has he been hard for?) and large. you're worried.

he chuckles at your fear-stricken expression before grabbing your legs and pressing them against your chest.

"be a dear and hold these for me, hm?" he says, and you do as you're told. you hold your legs by the backs of your thighs, pressing them so your knees hit your chest. he strokes himself once, twice to the sight of you spread out for him, your cute cunt drooling. slick drips down your perineum, inviting him.

you watch him slot himself in place, the tip of his long cock dragging through your folds to bump your clit, making you gasp. your entrance clenches around nothing, a pitiful whine leaving you.

"greedy." he shakes his head softly as he lines himself up, and without warning, thrusts himself entirely inside you.

the stretch is worse than you imagined. you flinch away from him, but he grips your thighs and tugs you right back onto his cock. it hurts, and the burn is something you hadn't accounted for. tears prick at your lower lashline. he leans down, his frame practically engulfing yours, and kisses your cheeks.

"don't cry. struggling only makes it worse, you know." he coos, tapping your jaw. you nod softly and wrap your arms around his neck for support, sniffling as the tears trail down the sides of your face. to ease your discomfort, his hand works itself between the two of you again and thumbs at your clit, dulling some of the pain. another moment, and your tears have disappeared.

"y-you can move. m'okay." you mumble to albert's delight. he starts slow, mostly on your behalf, and hisses at just how tight you are around him as he thrusts shallowly into your aching cunt.

the moment you make a noise, he grips your thighs tighter and starts bullying his cock into you quite intensely. the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with every single harsh, downright mean, thrust. he's not doing this for you, and that becomes readily apparent. still, you can't deny that it feels good to be fucked.

albert's quiet, aside from small huffs and hisses of enjoyment. you're so wet, it's making a mess of his lower abdomen and thighs. the lewd slapping of skin on skin combined with your precious mewls and whimpers of pleasure spurr him on, his nails digging into your thighs. his cock brushes against the spongy spot inside you, making you cry out and arch your back off the bed.

"there- a-again, please!" you grab the hand not rubbing your clit and lace your fingers together as the pressure in the pit of your stomach builds and builds, leaving you dumb on your owner's cock. he complies with your request, if not to feel you cum then just to see your pretty face when you do.

he bullies that spot relentlessly, to the point where some of his hair falls in his face. gummy walls squeeze and suck him in more, a loud cry leaving you as you reach your peak. slick gushes from your already crying pussy, thoroughly coating the both of your lower halves. it's dripping from you as he continues pumping into your hole, the schlick noise amplified now.

"w-wait- wait-" you grab the hem of his shirt, but he ignores your protests.

"we're not finished until my precious girl has her cunt filled with cum." he moves your hand away, forcing yourself further into the mating press he's got you in. you can feel every single inch, and how the throb of his dick indicates his climax. a few more sloppy, mean thrusts and he's spilling his seed into you. decidedly, it's a good feeling, and you need much, much more. your heat ceases momentarily, however, as he keeps his cock inside to ensure that nothing leaks out. your tail wraps around his thigh, the end flicking happily.

"i mean filled in every sense of the word, darling." he gathers some of your slick that's coating his lower abdomen on two fingers and pushes them in your mouth, watching with delight as you kitten-lick them clean. a dark grin forms on his pale lips, his length twitching at the sight. it's then that you really give in, that you decide it's better to be this way- fucked full of his cum and brainless. a familiar heat flares in your gut once more.

[semiweirdshipper]

Killer reactions to a reader who had their pants pulled down while they were on a hook. (Part two).

Evan

He heard one of his traps being dismantled near where you were hooked and swiftly went to investigate. He had imagined your team mates would have pulled you off by the time he arrived, but... Apparently not.

"No, no- stop!" He heard you shout, turning the corner just in time to see Jake tearing your pants and underwear down to your ankles. You were struggling and shouting, trying desperately to cover your naked crotch.

Rage boiled deep inside his gut at the disrespectful, offensive display. How dare Jake treat one of his own members this way.

Releasing a loud, bear like growl, Evan chased after the unsuspecting coward, cornering him into a trap and killing him. By the time he passed by your hook, he heard you crying softly and slowed in his tracks. For some reason, he didn't know why, he couldn't find it in himself to just leave you like this...

Turning around, he kept his head lifted and slowly approached you. At the sight of him, you flinched and cried harder, and it put a rod in his chest. "Want me to pull em up for ya?" He asked as calmly as he could manage.

You sniffled, looking at him in baffement and humiliation, your voice a quiet whisper, "Yes please."

Evan did it fast, stepping up to you and leaning down to pull your pants up. Once he was done, he took in your humiliated stance and reached out to gently cup your chin and tilt your head up, "I'm sorry they done this to ya, but it ain't so bad."

He brushed your cheek gently for a moment before letting go and turning away, "Keep your head up, darlin'."

Max

Everyone knew that he was an extremely sensitive person, and some times people tried to take advantage of that- like the times when survivors would flirt with him or get in suggestive poses; they knew he couldn't handle it without getting flustered and angry, his ability to focus shattered.

But this... This was different.

"Oh Max," Kate had whistled, "(y/n) here has something they wanna show you." And then she yanked your pants and underwear down.

Max had immediately flinched and gone to cover his eyes, the sound of your loud, horrified screaming causing him to hurt on the inside. Why were they doing this? You were hooked, they should be helping you, not... Not this.

Unable to look at you, Max took in the sounds of your loud cries, whimpers and whines and realized that this wasn't something you were purposely a part of. Your team mates were taking advantage of you like they constantly tried to take advantage of him, and he could tell how much it was bothering you.

Officially too shy to even look at you while you were half naked, Max ran off and did his best to kill Kate and the other two survivors. At the end he found you hiding by the shack, the hatch just a few meters behind him.

Dropping his chainsaw and hammer, Max stood aside and gestured to the hatch. It took you a few minutes, but you finally came walking out, your body tense, shaky and nervous. You couldn't make eye contact with him.

"Thank you," You whimpered gratefully, "I-I'm sorry about the..."

Max shook his head and uttered a soft growl. When you looked at him with a smile, he blushed and closed his eyes. For the first time, he wasn't flustered.

Ji-woon

He returned after hearing excessive screaming from where you were hooked, his chest flaring in anger at the thought of someone touching what was soon to be his. He worried that you might be being assaulted, and when he arrived at your hook, he cursed in Korean at the sight of you.

Your pants and underwear had been pulled down, and you were panicking in a struggle to cover yourself. Ji-woon saw red. "Who did this?" He demanded to know as he sprinted up to you.

You gasped, crying harder as you shook your head and looked away, utterly humiliated and afraid, "Élodie did it."

That monster. "Did she touch you?" Ji-woon asked, his teeth baring in dangerous rage.

Relief flooded him when you shook your head, but still... This was unacceptable. "I'll pull them up, yes?" He softened his voice while gesturing to your pants.

"Please." You whimpered, shaking lightly as he bent down and pulled your pants up.

Once that was done, Ji-woon looked at you and smiled, one hand slowly reaching up to cup your cheek. "I promise," He grinned at you with an almost endearing, psychotic blush, "I will get you revenge."

And then off Ji-woon went, leaving you in a pit of shock. Later after you got unhooked, you would discover Élodie's hooked body mutilated and... Pantsless. Revenge achieved.

Pinhead/Elliot Spencer

Elliot wouldn't deny that he had preferences. You weren't very far up on his list of favorite survivors to torture, and more often than not he subconsciously allowed you to escape him. But some times there were trials where he had to hook you at least once to please the Entity.

This was one of those trials.

Having sensed odd commotion from the area you were hooked, he went to investigate only to go immobile in shock and disbelief that soon melted into pity and frustration. The other survivors had pulled your pants down thus leaving you exposed, humiliated and vulnerable.

Whenever you noticed his presence, you brutally shook your head in embarrassment, anger and shame, your hands trembling as they covered your privates. You refused to look at him, your shoulders hitching with small, quiet cries.

Rules be dammed, Elliot lifted his arms out, summoned four chain/hooks and carefully used them to grab hold of the edges of your pants. You startled at this but otherwise remained still, watching the hooks with breathless awe as they worked your pants back up your legs.

Yanking your pants up the rest of the way yourself, the hooks around you disappeared with a clatter. Elliot stared at you with his usual monotony, observing the nervous yet grateful expression on your face as you offered him a timid, thankful wave. Hmp.

Elliot left with a light smirk. Perhaps now you would be more open to accept his offers of pleasure.

Wesker

When he finds you, all he can do is stand there and stare. You were one of the more efficient survivors- one that always gave him a run for his money. To see you this unhinged, this defeated and vulnerable... It, well...

It made him furious. Compared to you the other survivors were ants, and the fact that they felt the need to take advantage of you in such a state made his blood boil. How dare they.

"Stop staring at me," You screamed at him, your face flushed, body shaking and hands covering your exposed crotch.

Blinking behind his sunglasses, Wesker mentally shook himself from his thoughts and slowly began to walk forward, "My, my... I didn't take you as one to so easily break under pressure."

"Go away- don't come any closer," You shouted, your voice so passionate and defensive and true.

God, you had no idea what kind of effect you had on him. Wesker smirked, "You know, requesting help is not a crime. You should be smarter than that."

At that, you had gone silent, your eyes on him and filled with distrust, embarrassment and anger. For a few seconds you were hesitant, but then you quietly mumbled, "Will you help me? Please..."

It took all of his effort not to grin. "Since you asked nicely," He nearly closed the space between you as he bent down and pulled your pants up. "I must say," He whispered lowly, looking you in the eye, "You are exquisite in more ways than one, (y/n)."

Pyramid Head/The Executioner

He's good at reading auras even from far away, so when he hears a shout and senses your ill distress, he follows. And soon he comes to the wild scene of you frantically trying to cover your naked crotch while Nea and Nancy raced away in a hurry.

They had pulled your pants down, he realized with a swell of empathy. You weren't the only victim of this particular method of humiliation and immaturity. Many times now the survivors had taken advantage of his lack of speed and succeeded in pulling his own pants down.

You had never done anything like that to him before though. In fact you were a rather kind, modest person- a rare one that he envied and respected. Just like him, you didn't deserve this type of childish torment.

As he walked forward, constantly emitting monstrous growls, you trembled and shook your head, stuttering in fear, "N-no please. Stay-stay away, please. I'm sorry- just please... Stay away."

And when he was right in front of you, you really began to panic, "No please! I'm sorry, please. Please stay away. No!"

Using one hand, the Executioner grabbed an edge of your pants and sloppily drug them up until you were able to reach them yourself. Once you had them back over your hips, he stepped away and quietly observed you.

You bore an expression of gratitude and surprise, your eyes glossy as you gaped at him, "Thank you."

Nodding once, the Executioner left you in search for Nea and Nancy. Don't worry (y/n), he was going to get you some revenge. Maybe later you both could share your stories.

(A big thanks to the lovely EroismPro and Enigma-System for helping me choose what killers to use- give momma Weirdo some smooches you two, *mwah*, I love you! Also, shout out to any other interested viewers, I'm happy to make a part three, so if you want then just leave a comment on which killer you'd like to see in here. Thank you so much for reading).

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Something Rotten

Pairing: Dark!QZ Joel x afab!reader x Dark!QZ Tess

Words count: 4300 (more or less)

Rating: + 18, absolutely NSFW. This shit is triggering, read the tags carefully and please if your a minor don’t interact.

Warnings/Tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, smut, heavy degradation, kidnapping, reader is tied to the bed with a rope, mention of strong painkillers, depressing thoughts, both Joel and Tess are EVIL, mention of offering sex in exchange for protection, Dub-con/non-con (well, she’s into that and I made sure to say that she’s deeply aroused but still), no kindness whatsoever, face slapping, being threatened with a gun and knife, blood, wound (Tess writes a word on Reader's body with a knife), pussy slapping, tits slapping, oral (m receiving), deep throating, scissoring, slurs (whore, slut), pet names (honey, baby, pet, kitten), mention of Robert (you know that prick at the beginning of the series who makes Tess get beaten up? That's him. but anyway he is the least of the problems in this thing), ripped panties, orgasm denial, cum eating, hair pulling, reader has hair that can be pulled, no other description of her is given, I think it’s all but I will be sure to add anything I may have forgotten as soon as I can.

A/N: Happy Halloween! This is indeed a nightmare of a fic LOL

Ok, enough, I'm getting serious again. I know it’s a lot, please don't read if you don't feel comfortable with those kind of things. I've never written anything like this before, it was a test for me because those who read me know, I'm usually very soft. I've started writing the second part if anyone wants to read it, I preferred to publish this first because it was getting pretty long (And I honestly want to see how this one goes before I continue lol). Sorry if you find any errors, I hope there aren't too many. I don't have a beta, I reread it but my eyes are exhausted at this point 💀 (English is not my first language, you know that, right? lol)

Again, no one is obligated to read but I wanted to thank those who provided me with the songs I listened to while writing this: @magneticecstasy @hoelaris @lovely-vamp-princess @baronessvonglitter @whocaresstillthelouvre and @almostempty for having called together her trusted connoisseurs 😎, you all are truly amazing ♥️ (Something Rotten is a Placebo song I added between your amazing music advices).

Playlist can be found here.

(While we're at it, if anyone would like to be tagged on my fics in the future, let me know, thank you very much!)

Thanks to anyone who reads this!

“Now what should we do with you?” Tess’s voice is sharp, with a smug undertone.

“Maybe we should get rid of her.” Joel is just as blunt, smiling wickedly as he watches you shake like a leaf.

There’s obvious disappointment painted on your face, as well as fear of what these two might do to you.

——————————————————-

You know Joel and Tess, everyone in the QZ knows them, at least everyone trying to make ends meet like you.

They’re the most skilled smugglers and also the most ruthless.

No one would want to have them as enemies, but you, due to circumstances beyond your control, just tried to steal some of their supplies. You heard they had just left the Qz to stock up, apparently they know someone outside.

You thought you were safe. Turned out you were wrong, they came back sooner than you expected.

You wouldn’t have made such a bold move if it weren’t for the fact that Robert died, killed by Tess, as far as you know.

You and Robert had a relationship, if you could call it that, he gave you protection in exchange for sex. You didn't like Robert, to be honest, guy was a piece of shit himself, but he was the lesser evil. He was generally stupid and driven by his dick rather than his brain so it was pretty easy for you to please him and make sure he kept you safe from the unrestrained FEDRA soldiers, who are anything but devoted to rules and discipline, and you never lacked food while you were with him, much more than some people in this seedy Qz had.

Batting your eyelashes and giving him head every now and then was enough to have what you needed.

Robert was a gun runner, people feared him, everyone except Joel and Tess who thought he was an incompetent and arrogant moron.

They weren't entirely wrong but everyone in this shithole of a place survives as best they can.

You should have relied on your own strength from the beginning but when you arrived here you were so tired, hurt, heartbroken from having lost all the people you cared about that leaning on someone seemed like an acceptable compromise.

You were desperate again after losing Robert, so hungry you barely remembered how food really tastes.

You snuck into their room, cursing your stomach that was growling loudly. You held your breath as the door creaked open to reveal a rather bare, makeshift mini-apartment. No one was there, so you tiptoed around looking for something edible. You noticed a floorboard that was a bit off. Bingo.

You lifted it up and found a stash of dried meat, along with several bags of pills and a gun.

You took some pills that you recognized as strong painkillers, just in case you might need them.

Your hand shook as you pulled out the plastic bag full of dried meat, your stomach giving you no respite.

And just as you were about to take a bite, you heard some noises.

Shit.

You looked around nervously for a place to hide but to no avail. The bed was resting on bricks and barely rose from the floor, too little room to slide under. There were no closets, no dressers or anything.

Shit.

You were screwed.

The footsteps you heard were getting closer and closer and in a total panic, not knowing what else to do, you cowered behind a couch, the dried meat still in your hand while the pills danced in your bra.

You were certain that you would be discovered in no time.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a cold sweat was breaking out on your forehead. You squeezed your eyes shut in prayer even though you’ve never been a religious person.

Tess saw you first. “What do we have here?” she hissed. Joel caught sight of you next, your head awkwardly poking out from behind the couch.

Stupid stupid stupid.

“A thief,” he stated coldly, as he tugged at your jacket and pulled you out of your hiding place. Tess looked you up and down as you stared at the floor, terrified.

——————————————————-

“What the hell were you trying to do?” she asks you ironically, as if it makes her laugh. In fact, you feel ridiculous for even thinking you could get away with them, it would have been wiser to stay hungry while waiting to earn some cards.

Now you’re in troubles.

Big troubles.

You wanted to get the gun, but you couldn't and now you're standing in front of them, unarmed and scared as the barrel of Joel's gun is grazing at your cheek.

“I asked you a question,” Tess points out, “you better answer it.”

Joel hands the gun to Tess, tears the dried meat out of your hand and shove your arms behind your back, holding you tightly by your wrists, while Tess glares at you.

The gun is now before your eyes, shiny and threatening.

“I… was hungry” and then quickly add a “I’m sorry” that barely escapes your lips.

“So you’ve been working out this brilliant plan?” Joel teases, his deep voice giving you goosebumps.

After Joel suggests taking you out, Tess remains silent for a while, looking at you like a piece of meat “She’s pretty though,” and an even more chilling smile spread across her face, “fuck, you’re too pretty for being a rat”

“Yeah” Joel agrees “here’s a tip for you, honey, if you wanna screw someone try not to let your stupid ass show”

They exchange another knowing glance that doesn't bode well and Tess finally speaks “we could have some fun.”

Guided by self-preservation and fear, you widen your eyes and exclaim, “Oh no, please no!”

Tess places her hand under your chin, manipulating your face like a puppet, turning it left and right to inspect it. “You’re not sick, are you?”

You remain silent and after a few seconds you feel her open hand land on your cheek and an unbearable burning sensation spread across your skin.

What you feel immediately after is the cold steel of the gun under your chin.

“See, she doesn’t like it when people don’t answer her,” Joel whispers in your ear, adding more shivers to the ones already shaking your body.

You open your mouth, struggling to get out some sound. “No” is all you can say.

“Good,” Tess hisses. Joel’s grip on your wrists shows no sign of loosening and your cheek hurts like hell.

There’s no way out.

“Since you were stupid enough to try to sneak in, from now on you will stay here.” Tess announces to you, with a voice that does not allow protests “And you will be our little toy”

She runs a hand over your neck, goes down to your breast and squeezes it hard over your shirt “Do you understand?”

“Yes” you whisper immediately, fearing another blow.

You don’t have enough strength to rebel, you are weak while they are incredibly strong, your head is spinning and you are one against two.

To make sure you don’t get any weird ideas, Joel ties you to the bed. He runs a rope between one of the bricks and the frame of the bed, chuckling evilly, “I’m sorry honey, but I have to, your little head is too imaginative to let you loose in here.” The way he looks at you it’s disturbing, licking his lips in anticipation of what he’ll do to you that night.

He’s not sorry at all.

He can't wait to use you as he wants.

His gaze is intense and dark and you feel like he can get under your skin and read your every thought.

Tess controls Joel's moves, gun still in her hand and when you are completely at their mercy, lying on the bed, with the rope that at most allows you to turn on your back, she bends down to look at you, running the cold steel of gun on your face. You feel tears stinging your eyes as you look at her "oh come on don't do that, after all it's always better than breaking your delicate back with those shitty jobs, right?"

Her mellifluous voice makes you furious, does she think she did you a favor? You would like to spit in her face, on that cold and evil face of hers but you don't.

You can’t.

There's no point in trying to fight back, they'd kill you.

You know that.

They both go off to who knows where and you stay there, waiting, unable to do anything else.

________________________________

It’s the dead of night when the door creaks again and they come back in. Your wrists hurt, you feel stiff, exhausted even though you’ve done nothing but lie there, consumed by fear.

Tess is the first to approach “so kitten, have you been good today?” she coos wickedly and pats your head just like you’re her pet.

You feel a blind rage fill you as she calmly sits on the bed and takes off her boots.

Joel sits on the other side, takes off the dark blue denim shirt he is wearing and unlaces his combat boots.

You are lying on your back now and you crane your neck to watch them.

It’s incredibly frustrating for you to realize that both of your kidnappers are gorgeous.

Tess has a cold beauty, long dark blonde hair framing her face, her lean body reveals itself before your eyes as she takes off her clothes.

She has several scars scattered across her back and arms that make her look even more dangerous, adorning her skin like battle wounds. Battles that somehow she has always won. She’s feral as a lioness and as wicked as a demon.

You never knew you were into women but looking at her right now you can’t deny to find her attractive.

Joel on the other side is tense and nervous as a violin string, rippling muscles and large calloused hands, messy hair and a scruffy beard covering his cheeks.

Your eyes are drinking in his figure, glaring on his broad shoulders, strong neck and plush lips.

He’s definitely the most handsome man in the QZ.

He too has several wounds that blend into his olive skin, giving him the aspect of someone who cannot be argued with in the slightest.

In the little time you have already spent together, however, you have noticed how he bends to Tess's will, as if he were a guard dog always on alert to protect her.

Tess is the brains, Joel is the arm.

He's placed a large switchblade on his pillow, there to remind you that you have no escape.

They are both in their underwear, their clothes lying on the floor. Tess orders Joel to untie you, the rope slowly loose on your wrists as Joel warns you “you better not make a single move or you will regret it, slut”. His voice in your ear is terrifying, bouncing around in your head like a nightmare you can’t wake up from.

“Good girl” Tess praises you briefly while you remain still, before ordering “undress her”

Joel unceremoniously removes your jacket and shirt, throwing everything on the floor. He unhooks your bra, brushing his fingertips along your back, and you shiver imperceptibly.

As your bra comes off, the pills you’ve hidden inside fall onto the bed, rolling onto the blanket. Tess shakes her head, squinting “What are those? Didn’t you say you were hungry? Do you need pills to feed yourself, you little whore?” her voice is like ice and the blade of the knife abandoned on the bed is suddenly at your throat, held by Joel.

Your voice breaks into tears as you try to justify yourself. You try to say that they are only for you, just painkillers, you’re not a drug addict, you won’t sell them, you won’t try to ruin their business.

“Pfff and we should believe you?” Joel scoff, laughing from behind your back, tugging violently on your arm and sliding the blade on your skin.

“I-please”

You don't even know what to say anymore.

"Stop whining, it gets on my nerves” Joel warns you as he slightly dig the blade into your cheek, scratching you just a little, just to let you taste the flavor of iron.

“You'll be a very good pet for us, won't you?” Tess whispers leaning close to your ear and running her fingers along your arm.

Tears now roll freely down your cheeks. She wipes away a tear and licks its salty taste from her thumb, pleased.

“Yes, I’ll be good I - I promise” you sigh.

“You certainly will be, if you don't want to taste Joel's knife.” He grins behind you and leave the switchblade on the sheets.

Your bra joins the other clothes on the floor as Tess squeezes one of your nipples between her fingers. She isn't gentle, she isn't delicate, her hand is firm, demanding, her fingers calloused.

After all, she isn't one to back down from a fight and everything about her shows it.

She pulls, pinches and twists, treating your nipple as if it belongs to her and she can do whatever she wants with it, looking you straight in the eye, intimidatingly, without even flinching.

Joel is still behind your back, sitting on the bed and he reaches for your hips, his large hands enveloping them and his fingers pressing hard into your flesh. He leans down and runs his tongue all the way up your spine, going up your shoulder and biting hard where it joins your neck. You cry out. You know it will leave a mark on you, his teeth tattooed on your skin.

Tess slaps your tit when a moan slips through your lips at the sensation of having Joel sucking hard on your skin, leaving more marks on your neck, his beard scratching you.

“You fucking like it, don’t you, pet?” She teases.

You can’t say anything, a stinging pain spread across your chest and you wonder how strong she really is despite her slim figure.

Joel detaches from you and Tess makes you lying on the bed again, unbuttoning and tugging down at your jeans, leaving you in nothing more than your ridiculously worn panties, they’re so old they’re basically see through but it’s not like you can have something fancy in the QZ.

She spots a wet stain right in the front and she smiles fake sweetly, you can still see the evil in her ice cold eyes.

She takes the hem and just rip them off, exposing your bare cunt.

You gasp and try to gather your hands in front of you for covering your privates but you can’t, Joel is still holding your wrists in a dangerous grip.

She laughs at your clumsy attempt “darling, rebelling won't do you any good, I thought I was clear before”

“Please,” you whisper, “please let me go. I didn’t steal anything in the end, I’m never coming back.”

“No,” she says firmly, “no. Do you know why? You don’t mess with us, you don’t even try. You have a lesson to learn.”

Her fingers run over your leg cold. You don't have time to beg again as another slap hits you. "Poor little girl, didn't your mother teach you manners? We'll have to think about it ourselves." She says, pursing her lips.

She slaps your cunt.

You throb.

And you’re wet.

You hate every cell in your body that is getting sexually aroused by them.

Your brain says no, but your body isn't following suit and you can't really explain it.

What was once pain is turning into a creeping, crawling tingle that runs under your skin.

Back in the days you had a boyfriend that used to fuck you roughly and you liked that but you certainly never thought to be aroused by people holding you captive.

It’s insane.

She lifts one of your legs up high, holding it tightly by the ankle as Joel brings your arms above your head on the bed and his grip continues to secure your wrists.

“Um, look at you. What a delicious wet pussy.” Tess coos.

Joel grunts at the sight “such a needy slut”

Tess positions herself between your legs and begins to rub herself on your pussy.

She doesn’t care a bit about treating you like a person, making your joints ache for the unnatural position, one leg impossibly strained with her grip and the other one straight on the bed with your thigh hurting under her weight.

You’re their muppet now.

The friction between your pussies makes you feel ashamed at first, you've never done it before. With each thrust of Tess on you, however, you begin to feel a heat enveloping your lower abdomen, going straight down to your clit making it sensitive and swollen.

You’re excited, as much as you hate to admit it.

Tess is wild, she’s claiming your body like a predator does with its prey, her small and perfectly shaped tits are bouncing in the air, nipples pink and hard.

You're biting your lip hard, holding back the moans that try to escape from the back of your throat.

You don’t know what came over you but wouldn't mind sucking on them .

You look up at Joel who towers over you, his gaze glassy, ​​fixed on your pussies slamming together making the most obscene sounds you've ever heard, like a squish on loop, wet and slippery.

Tess looks at you, her face twisted into an evil grimace as she groans and curse.

You're trying to control yourself in every way but your body responds, you feel a rush of pleasure flooding you. Fuck. It's like your brain is leaking out of your cunt.

You’re gasping under Tess.

Your hips move trying to seek more friction.

Hot tears stream down your face as you moan. You can’t believe how fucked up this is.

“Oh yeah, baby, go ahead and cry, be a pathetic whining mess, we don't give a shit. Your whore pussy is ours now.” Joel growls.

He moves in front of your face, his large hand covers your cheek completely and squeezes it hard, pinching your skin mercilessly before giving you a slap. You feel an unbearable heat radiating on your skin, you haven't even moved your arms even though he has let go of his grip.

“You’re just a plaything,” Tess echoes, “and you’re enjoying it, aren’t you, little scammer?”

Tess grinds against you relentlessly, she reaches down and twists your clit with two fingers and a wail of pain breaks from your lips.

You feel delirious under her ministration, her body takes what it wants from you and there's nothing you can do to stop it, on the contrary. Your nipples are so pebbled they look like little rocks on your chest, your cunt so sloppy and wet that your cream is lasciviously trickling on your inner thighs, you don’t recognize yourself anymore.

Tess comes above you, callin names and stuttering angrily.

You whine again and Joel barks “it’s time for you to shut up, slut”

He pulls down his boxers with a dark look and an incredibly devious smile plastered on his face. His cock is right in front of your eyes, semi hard, he spits in his palm and starts fisting it, up and down his length. It’s thick and swollen, more big than you expected.

His angry red tip almost touches your lips, he reaches for your jaw and pulls it “open wide, slut” he orders. Your lips are pressed together, you try to resist, but Joel takes a handful of your hair, pulling hard.“I. Said. Open. Wide.” punctuating each word with a stronger tug.

You can’t help but doing it, he’s basically tearing off your hair while Tess is still having no mercy of your cunt. She moves on the sheets and she stick two of her fingers in your cunt, up to the knuckles “Jesus, you’re fucking soaked baby, such a good slut”

Joel forces his cock into your mouth and begins to push inside you until he reaches the back of your throat, not letting you get used to it, your cry is muffled by your lips tightening around his shaft. His taste spread across your tongue as he moves abruptly into you, in and out of your lips. Your mind is fuzzy, you try to breathe from your nose but all you can feel right now is the aching of your jaw and the way Tess is scissoring her fingers inside your hole. They have no mercy and you’re madly aroused with it.

It’s not like you’re expecting something good from life at this point. Life isn’t gentle anymore, you lost everything a long time ago, you’re just trying to stay afloat biting off what you can and expecting nothing but bites back until the day fate or destiny decides it's over for you.

You don't know if there's a hint of what they call Stockholm Syndrome in all this but here you are, willing to be free use, for them to ruin, right on the verge of losing your mind. You’re pliant and hungry now, sucking on Joel cock like a good meal after a whole month of starvation, you’re reaching his balls with your hand, massaging and squeezing it lightly. Tess is watching you and she doesn't seem happy with the way you're trying to be, her hand lands again on your pussy, heavy and cruel, right on your clit.

“Oh don’t be too much of an ass kisser, I never liked them. And don’t do anything until we tell you to”

Joel grunts deeply as you let go of his ball “fuck I liked that though” and he grabs your hand back “since you like it, touch it, you dirty whore”

Tess rolls her eyes and slaps your pussy again and again until you feel your skin burning and you know you're about to come, your muscles are tense and your legs start to tingle as well as the bottom of your belly.

Tess understands and stops. “Oh, one more thing, you come if and when we decide.” A moan rises from deep in your chest and vibrates on Joel’s cock.

“Keep sucking” Joel urges you groping and squeezing your tits.

You move painfully up and down his length, him holding the back of your skull. Tess watches you, studying your reactions, a hint of jealousy in her eyes as Joel continues to thrust into your mouth, urging you “like this, little bitch, keep going - OH FUCK”

You can feel your cunt throbbing, screaming for a release.

Tess is giving you occasional kitten lick, so soft and so evil at the same time ‘cause you’re right on the edge. It’s a torture, an unbearable struggle that you can take anymore. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, your clit swollen and sore, you’re feeling delirious and you’re not allowed to come.

Tess picks up the knife again and you feel it slide across your inner thigh, it’s cold on your sweat-beaded skin and it makes you shiver. It rises dangerously close to your center, her evil eyes obsessively following the path of the blade. A sharp smile spreads across her face as she begins to sink the tip into your flesh, just enough to scratch your skin. You’re choking your whines on Joel’s cock as you smell blood in the air. It feels like she’s writing something, her trajectory is meticulous and careful, she pulls the blade out smiling again, satisfied with her work.

“Here you go, now everyone will know what kind of whore you are. If you ever get out of here”

She runs her tongue over what she just branded into your skin, your body shakes, your back arches insanely seeking for that delicious line between pain and pleasure, it’s stinging and soothing at the same time.

Joel is spilling inside you, his cum invading your mouth, painting your tongue and sliding warm down your throat. His face is red and sweaty, he's gritting his teeth, his neck is tense, his merciless hand holds you still clinging to your neck, he looks like a wild animal ready to devour you.

“Swallow it all, bitch” And you do it, you have no other choice. And you like it. You like the feel of his vein pulsing against the roof of your mouth, the heat and weight of him on your tongue, his musky flavor. It distracts you from the pain spreading across your thigh.

Joel only pulls out of your mouth when you've licked it clean.

It’s softening but it’s still the biggest cock you’re ever had.

He whispers in a hoarse voice that you are a very good little pet, smiling at you nastily, his big hands filling with your breasts, calloused and heavy, your nipples still hard under his palms.

Tess chuckles “yeah, she’s not that bad. And she’s a real fucking slut, aren’t you, honey? Your pussy is hungrier than your stomach”

You don't answer her, you are enraptured by Joel's dark and lascivious eyes, naked and helpless on the bed, branded like a cow, stupid and drunk on sex.

Your mind is no longer thinking clearly.

They both lie down on the bed to catch their breath, leaving you naked and sore at the foot of it, like a rag doll.

You never imagined this would happen to you when you came in here. And then, when they found you, the first thing you thought was that they were going to kill you. You're still here. Exhausted, in pain as you stare at the ceiling, sweat cooling on your skin.

You wonder how long it will last, where they will dump you when they get tired.

You're still alive anyway, that's enough.

There is definitely something rotten in you. You want to get up and see the word Tess wrote on your thigh but you are not brave enough. You trace it with a finger, shivering with pain, feeling your skin pull and pinch where it is starting to heal. If your touch is right it says “pet”.

[destinationtrekk]

ஜ masterlist ஜ

last updated: october 24, 2024

requests: open!

all my writing is gender neutral unless otherwise specified. i'm human and bad grammar/mistakes happen. if you don't like, don't read!

all of my oneshots are posted to ao3!

ஜ albert wesker x reader

oneshots

☛ i notice (when you're not around) : 2.3k, mature, ao3 link

▸ He promised to always answer when you needed him, no matter what. Or, 5 times he answers your call, and one time you answer his.

☛ not there yet : 1.3k, teen, ao3 link

▸Wesker doesn't realize he's in a love story until he's nearly too late.

☛ daybreak : 1.1k, teen, ao3 link

▸Even a hardened Captain needs a break sometimes.

☛ nightfall : 2.2k, teen, ao3 link

▸ Your Captain returns the favor. Sequel to daybreak

☛ arcadia: 1.9k, teen, ao3 link

▸ This is only a dream, and you will never hear that laugh again.

ficlets (long asks)

☛ getting a hug when you're sick : fluff

☛ wesker and pregnant!reader : afab!reader

☛ wesker trauma comfort

☛ young!wesker at a party

☛ inexperienced oral : nsfw

☛ wesker showing you off to your ex : nsfw

☛ CNC with wesker : nsfw, read trigger warnings first!

☛ Albert Wesker NSFW Alphabet : nsfw

☛ domestic wesker : nsfw, afab!reader

☛ domestic wesker : nsfw, amab!reader

☛ aftercare with wesker : nsfw

☛ wesker and vampire!reader

☛ uroboros!wesker's psyche

headcanons and asks

tags to follow

☛ 2024 trekk'o'ween

☛ amab!reader tag

☛ platonic!wesker

☛ tattoo artist!wesker

☛ cat!wesker tag

☛ b.o.w.!reader tag

☛ sub!wesker tag : nsfw

spotify playlists + audios

☛ re5 wesker : dark and sexy

☛ s.t.a.r.s. wesker : angsty

☛ post-uroboros wesker : bittersweet and loving

☛ wesker elevenlabs audios

[flkwh0re]

Masterlist

Marvel

• Natasha Romanoff

Moms Friend

Broken

Home for Christmas

The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie

The Office

Casual - The Continuation

Try it, Bite it, Lick it, Spit it

Guilty Pleasure

• Wanda Maximoff

Babysitter - Part 2

Dark Twisted Fantasy

Sweetest Bunny

• WandaNat

Can’t Sleep

Team Player

Caught

Red Dead Redemption

Nothing here yet.

Resident Evil

• Donna Beneviento

Touchy Desires

[my-little-wraithlings]

I want to write a series of interconnected one shots centered in the universe of Evil Dead the Game. It would focus around AoD Ash interacting with the other characters, the guilt he feels, how cold he's become, and his new strange relationship to his doppleganger.

Basically just him dealing and coming to terms with everything while they all quest together to follow the basic objectives of a match in the game but pulled out over what would be weeks/months for the characters.

because I am an angst/hurt/comfort writer, I really want to get into the deep possibilities of interaction in a world like Evil Dead the game. Such as:

_ finding shelter _ finding food _ how fear and stress effects relationships _ Everyone struggling to remember what happen before each one died _ incorporating game mechanics into story form _ Mia and Cheryl bonding over their hatred of the woods _ Ash, Pablo, and Kelly all feeling like something (someone) is missing but they just can't seem to remember Brandy _ How Professor Knowby's new spell effects them all

There's just so much story potential here and I want to tap into it.

[admirxation]

彡 Secret - Leon Kennedy

father in law!Leon Kennedy x daughter in law!afab!reader | 18+ | 3.5k | oneshot

synopsis — Your husband goes on another business trip, an excellent time for you to seek affection with his father.

contents — 18+ heavy smut mdni, pseudo-incest (in-laws), cheating, slight hair pulling, thigh touching, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), tit play, unprotected sex (p in v), breeding kink, possessiveness (a little), and creampie // I do not condone everything I write, this is just fiction if you don’t like don’t read. Read the warnings and continue at our own discretion. I’ve provided ample warning.

tags: @mrswint3rs @elfven-blog (please check the taglist in my pinned post if you want to be tagged in future works)

The essence of secrecy lies in its concealed nature; it is meant to evade the awareness of others in confidence between only a select few, often confined to a mere duo. The revelation of this can imperialise many involved. However, the enigmatic nature of maintaining a secret is undeniably captivating; it entices individuals to guard and preserve its sanctity. The prospect of clandestine knowledge imparts a sense of thrill; it can keep the individual’s heart pumping with adrenaline each second that goes past, and each day, it finds another day to survive between the knowing. Yet, beneath that surface of excitement, the weight of culpability lingers, a moral unease inherent in the act of concealment, the feeling of guilt inhabiting the consciousness of the one keeping it, especially with the amount of gravity certain secrets have—like the one you were holding with Leon. 

When you first sought comfort with your father-in-law, you thought this was going to be a one-time moment of weakness, a feeling that it was just happening through the disconnect with your husband, a moment of letting your desires warp your mind and your morals—but this soon escalated into ‘one time’ being apart of continuous routine. Tiptoeing into his room, sneaking away when your husband was at work, betraying your vows, those sacred words that shouldn’t be tarnished for a few moments of fun, but you were indulging in breaking those promises every moment you lied in Leon’s arms, every moment you let his form engulf you in its shadow, every moment you pressed your arms around him and left sweet kisses on his skin. 

When you wrapped yourself up in a blanket next to your husband, there was a phantom feeling of something tugging at your heart, like a hand squeezing and pulling at it, pushing down into the form of a cold spike feeling travelling down into the pit of your stomach whenever you pictured the inevitable moment when your husband would find out; you weren’t completely stupid, you knew that this would all come out sooner or later, especially with the fact that you were cheating with your husbands father. This wasn’t some secret or tall tale that you could take to the grave with you; no, this was something that needed to be known; it was starting to become more than just bodily fulfilment with another; there was a connection in your betrayal, an emotional one that whenever you parted from his presence you craved to be back into it, and not just through lust, through romantic interest like you formerly had with your husband. The feeling of guilt was only natural when these affairs were starting. Still, it all started to melt away when your husband reciprocated the distance, as well as the infidelity you were providing in the relationship. 

There has always been a lack of chemistry and connection within the relationship; when you first met each other in college, it started as a casual sexual relationship, meeting each other whenever your roommates were gone and finding some late-night indulgences. Then it rolled into something more serious. It was all a blur now; you remember a casual to serious relationship shift; you noticed this when you first met his father. You always thought he was attractive, but you never thought he would be the person you wanted to be with. You felt trapped in this relationship. Granted, your husband never pushed you into that decision, but you felt dependent on him for what he provided, all the benefits he gave you, and even pulled you up in the ranks of your job position; you did owe a lot to him. However, this lack of connection was always found in his wandering eye. 

He always had a wandering eye for every woman who passed but never acted on it…until now. 

You never blamed him or felt betrayed, hell you didn’t even cry or wince in reaction when you were met with the vision of the text messages he shared with his secretary; you just turned the phone off and pretended to be the innocent wife, oblivious to it all; but when you saw those messages, you could only feel… relief? Relief that you weren’t hurting someone in love with you anymore, relief that both of you were aware of this trapped marriage. You were hoping this affair would be the trigger to make him throw the divorce papers in your face, something you were too cowardly to do. 

You were waving off your partner for another business trip; it made you laugh when he would always make up some extravagant lie, always bringing up names to make his lie seem more believable; of course, you always knew when he was lying, he would never maintain eye contact, and whenever you asked who was going, you saw his eyes widen and look around the room trying to remember what he fabricated a few days earlier. If anything, you admired how far he would go. Sometimes, you wondered if he was just doing this to spite you for sleeping with his father, but you didn’t care; you just wanted him gone longer so you could spend time with Leon. 

When telling Leon this, he laughed at how his son was trying to make things even, though he knew his son was awful at covering his tracks; after all, he had known him all his life; he knew what his son was capable and incapable of. When learning the information that your son is cheating on their wife, it arranges multiple reactions. Some people simply do not care, and some even blame the wives. Others will be shocked at their son's behaviour, knowing they didn’t raise him like this and will be there for their daughter-in-law. But Leon, oh, Leon intensely disliked how his son never fully appreciated you. He was also glad that his weak ability to be a husband granted him the opportunity to give the woman whom he couldn’t stop thinking about the attention she deserved. When learning of another business trip his son was going on, he just smirked when hearing your tempting words through the phone, knowing exactly what you were planning and insinuating. 

“He can spend all the time he wants with… Whatever her name is… Now, come to mine; I know you’re free.” 

When you heard those words on the phone, you were quick to leave your house, locking the door and jumping into your car for a few-minute journey to him; you felt your heart flutter and jump within your chest every time the tyre rolled further to your destination, every turn and bend you had on the road, all of it adding to that feeling of impatience whenever you were stopped by traffic. 

You didn’t have to knock; you already had a key to make your way whenever you wanted to, whenever you wanted a late-night roll around when your husband was in a night of deep sleep or having ‘overtime’ at work. You made your way to the staircase and ascended into his room. 

Leon was sitting at his desk, working alone. It was clear that he was probably waiting for you to come a bit later, considering this time of day harboured the most traffic. 

He greeted you with a smile, dropping his pen and looking you up and down under his scrutiny; you felt undressed under his gaze with those longing and erotic states; the tension between you two was undeniable every time you were together, all those pent up desires every time you couldn’t be together all bursted within an explosion of desire whenever people were out of the picture. You could fulfil everything you two thought of. When no one was around, his house was the realm where the secret wasn’t something to hide, but something accepted between you two, something loved by you two. 

You pushed away his work to one side, positioning yourself in between his legs before pushing yourself up to the table, feeling a jolt course through your body when you felt Leon’s large hands slide to the sides of your waist, roaming and sliding down to the plush of your thighs, continuing to maintain that lustrous stare that always made you weak whenever looking deeply back into that blue undressing gaze. 

“It’s rude to ignore a guest, especially when you invite them, Leon,” you said to him, looking down and watching as he took the free invitation to keep touching you, pushing his hands under the flap of your dress, feeling your soft and smooth skin as he caressed you further; a smirk playing at his lips as he witnessed you subtly parting your legs as he continued to keep touching, providing him with a further invitation. 

“True. Especially one that is so beautiful; where are my manners?” he looked up at you as you bent your head forward to meet him, your lips being mere moments away from his, letting that tension arise between the both of you; you leaned in to let him give you a soft and tender kiss, a kiss that slowly increased into further sensual deep interlocks between you two. 

He pushed one of his hands to the back of your head, tangling his fingers within the strands of your hair, slightly tugging at it to make you release soft winces; you bit your lip as you two both continued to share erotic eye contact that was already creating a knot within your stomach and made your heartbeat deeper and your breaths deeper. As you were lost in those pools of blue, you expressed a sharp and high-pitched gasp when his fingers led to your clothed core, feeling the tips of his fingers rub circles around, pulling sweet and tender moans from you. 

“How long is he gone for?”

“A week,” Leon pushed his fingers with harder pressure as he rubbed your sensitive bud through the wet patch already formed from his long digits. 

“Good. A week with me, would you like to stay here, darling? I wouldn’t want you to be lonely,” you could only release a nod as you pressed your lips into a line, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushed his index and middle finger deeper and circulated in a clockwise motion—from just a tiny amount of time he knew what would drive you crazy. “Use your words, sweetheart; I can’t mind read,” he tilted his head to the side as he waited for you to open your mouth. 

“Yes, I would, yes I would want that,” you managed to fabricate your chosen words in a breathy release as he quicked his motions, moans wanting to erupt already to replace your words.

“Am I already driving you crazy?” you nodded again, “I love it when you’re easy for me… And only me,” his words were elongated, arousal and stimulation within the way he spoke that made your core flutter in excitement and anticipation, even more so when he wrapped the tip of his finger around the side of your already soaked panties, and slowly pushing them to the side, he wasn’t going to rush this no matter how many times he felt you, he always wanted to savour the feeling of making you his. 

He lifted your skirt even further to witness your glistening cunt, feeling your heat as he lingered his fingers around your inner thigh, teasing you even more, not knowing when he was going to draw more moans from you, simply with his fingers.

“Do you want to feel good, sweetheart?” you nodded, looking down and spreading your legs even further, “You’re such a dirty little slut for me, aren’t you? Yet you won’t just leave him.” 

You had been thinking of leaving your husband ever since you started this affair with Leon, and he wasn’t going to leave it alone until you were his, not just in bodily and emotional connection, but under the eyes of the law and society, he wanted everyone to know that you were his girl. 

“You know it w-won’t be any longer,” your breathing hitched as you waited for Leon’s fingers to creep themselves inside you, feeling a tingle and tightening sensation within your stomach the way he looked at you with those eyes that controlled all your feelings. 

He ran his thumb over your soft mouth, his other fingers on his left hand rubbing your wet slit, dragging the tips of his fingers along your soaked cunt. Hearing your heavy breathing, he pulled you back for another kiss, his tongue entering your mouth and swirling and sliding on yours, enjoying every minute and surprised little noise secreted from your mouth, muffled by his kisses. He pushed his long and thick digits inside you, slowly, pulling a long and quiet moan as he bit your bottom lip in between kisses, feeling him slowly pump and curl his fingers as your walls tightened around them. 

“Does my dirty girl want more?” he whispered to you in between kisses, “and I expect you to use your manners.” He always loved to have that cocky attitude with you, always loving to have the upper hand, knowing you melted every time you felt his touch, forever in his submission. 

“Yes, please, Leon,” you begged. 

“Good girl.”

He left one final wet kiss on your lips before pushing his chair away with a harsh kick and letting his face be in front of your pussy, your aching pussy that was craving him all through the journey, that craved him every night and day when you were apart. He kissed lightly at your pussy before enclosing your clit with his lips, interlocking with your wet and soft folds, his tongue lapping and dancing around your sensitive cluster of nerves, continuing to pump his long fingers inside you, circling your bud over and over again in perfect rhythm to pushing his digits further into your throbbing cunt, feeling his cock harden inside his pants every time your taste lingered around in his mouth, every time he took ownership with having fun with you. 

“All mine,” he quickly said as he continued to press his face back in between your thighs, his hand massaging your thigh, “I’ll never get tired of tasting you,” you felt him smile against you, his breathing deepening as you continued to moan for him. 

“Fuck, Leon-” your back arched as your fingers messed through his blonde locks, tugging and ruffling as your head continued to be kicked back. Your eyes squeezed shut as you let his soft lips continue to be attached to your clit, sucking and circling it, his fingers keeping you on the edge and making your toes curl with each load of erotic sound to fill the room’s atmosphere. Leon loved how much you squirmed as you tensed every muscle in your body when feeling that pleasure course through you at the hands and skill of Leon; you felt a pulsating scream ready to roll through your body as you whined from the stimulation; Leon continued to put you over the edge as he increased the speed and rhythm, setting another catalyst for your first orgasm so he threw his hand on your breast and squeezed it tightly, your skin poking out in the gaps of his fingers, later rolling your hardened nipple with his fingers while hungrily lapping his tongue around your clit, like being indulged into an addictive sweet treat. 

“Leon!” you screamed like you always did, and he continued to love hearing those sounds. 

Your thighs continue to tighten, your pussy spasming, and Leon’s tongue awaiting as you squeezed your eyes shut and engaged your core, releasing a clear and delicious release into his mouth, inviting Leon to lick up every drop and savouring the flavour only he craved every morning and night. He licked up a strip of your pussy, slowly pulling his fingers away as he watched your chest move up and down in rapid action with your changed breathing patterns. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” he cooed as he licked his lips, watching your face beg for more. Your heart practically leapt when hearing those words, ready for whatever dictation he will provide for you. 

He continued to unbutton and drop his pants down, his erection bouncing out and exposing its red blushed tip already leaking with precum from just receiving the taste of you; you moved off the table and were ready to feel him deep inside, but his next words stopped you momentarily. 

“Why don’t you just leave him when he comes back… He’s got somebody… And I don’t want us to keep being secretive,” his hands were placed on your hips, you hoovering over him and feeling your heartbeat move at a quicker pace. “I make you feel better than he ever did. Marry me instead. I know that’s what you want, baby,” a blush crept on your cheeks as he continued to rub your sides, putting pressure on you with his touch. 

“Hm, sorry for putting you on the spot, let’s resume-” 

“Yes. I will. I will leave him for you.”

Leon’s eyes widened; you no longer felt his touch pressure down onto your skin. He stopped there momentarily as if time had frozen within his body clock.

Then that smirk came back. That knowing smirk of him finally getting his way, that smirk revealing he could finally have you and not just as an affair, he wouldn’t want to give a damn what others thought; he finally had you, and having you was all that mattered to him. 

“Come here, you,” he growled as he pulled your underwear, his eagerness igniting impatience as he pulled hard enough for the delicate fabric to rip, the threads pulling out in intricate patterns, pulled down to the carpeted floor; you didn’t care as he pulled you and sat you on his lap, feeling his cock push inside your wet, throbbing, squelching cunt as he aggressively thrusted you down on him, hearing the slap of your skin come crashing down on his thighs, erupting another deep moan out of you as you felt his large cock pressed inside and wrapped around your tight and warm walls. 

“Fuck. You’re so tight, baby.” You bounced with the help of Leon’s hands tucked underneath your ass and bouncing you on his member, pushing along his length further inside of you as he felt a craving that now belonged to him, “God. You feel amazing,” he continued to hiss as he felt you, his cock continuing to twitch as he heard your continuous gasps and moans. 

“Mmm, you’re so good,” you managed to get the words out as his large hands continued to grip your ass, watching his eyes darken with lust and possession as he watched your tits bounce in front of him with every thrust he pumped inside of you. 

“Just like that,” you found the perfect rhythm for him, “Umpth, you’re doing so good, baby,” he kicked his head back as you continued bouncing along his length, a red flush engulfing your pretty face, drool collecting at the corners of your mouth as you continued to scream for Leon and watch his perfect frame push inside of you. 

You whimpered as he squeezed your ass hard, your walls clenching around his dick even harder and making his desperation to finish inside you grow as you screamed his name again, releasing another loud luscious orgasm that drove Leon crazy with the fact he knew your body so well. 

“Cum for me, Leon,” you whispered, “you know I want to feel it. You know I love it,” you continued to push Leon when you saw that look in his eyes, knowing he was close. 

“Hmm, god,” he continued to growl as he felt your pussy tighten around him, “Oh sweetheart, I don’t just need a ring to prove to-to everyone you chose the better man… I need to fucking breed that, that perfect pussy,” he couldn’t create a perfect sentence without being interrupted with the odd messing up of words, focusing on trying not to cum until he finally let this words out; the effort to not release inside you was building up, beads of sweat were forming across his forehead and his chest puffed out in deeper breathing. 

“Do it then, I’m all yours.” 

A glimmer crossed his blue gaze as he pumped his last belligerent thrusts inside of you, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. His face buried in your tits as he released his white and creamy cum inside of your walls, shooting inside of you with desperation, slowly pushing it further inside you, the head of his cock continuing to bash against your cervix as he fucked his seed further inside of you. His actions released a long, drawn-out moan escaping your glossy lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your formerly tense body melted back into relaxation and your breathing becoming laboured as you felt his cum pool inside of you, the rest trickling down your sticky thighs as you tried to catch you breath. 

A secret is always fun to keep, but it eventually comes out, whether from being revealed by another or from people no longer being able to keep it inside and wanting the whole world to know.

please remember the best way of supporting writers is by liking and reblogging, i give everyone love who has taken the time of their day to read what i have created, thank you *kiss kiss*.

[weskie]

Just Pretend [Love is Madness] (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

18+ | soft and fuck nasty wombo combo wesker, he whimpers, biting, what if wesker was in love AND denial, p/rn without plot | Fic Directory

You bury your face in the sheets, fists scrambling for purchase in the soft silk.  The moan that leaves you is anything but dignified, though you’d passed that threshold long ago.  He’s had a long day, and you were all too happy to help him get it out of his system.

A hand twists in your hair while another takes a biting grip at your waist to steady you with each punishing thrust.  

So thick, so full… 

“Al…” You mewl, the nickname a sacred utterance only for special moments, whether carnal or tender.  You hear the way he shudders.  You feel the flex in his grip.  Wesker loves it and you know full well he does.  By the stutter of his hips turning to a wet grind, you know it drives him crazy to be called such a sweet, silly name.  To feel every one of your proclamations of love seep into something so… mundane.

You feel him collapse, chest pressing flat and hot against your back as he braces himself, breaths panting in your ear.  He’s not done– nowhere near it.  This is just how he gets away with the softer things.  He thinks you don’t know how much he fucking loves the full body contact.  That he shivers when the whole of you is pressed to him, when he feels completely joined with you.  

He peppers kisses from behind your ear down to the junction of your neck, each one wet and warm and full of unspoken adoration.  Each shallow grind into your heat makes him try and fail to bite back weak little moans until he becomes so fed up, so frustrated that he can’t keep his perfect composure, that he simply has to sink his teeth into your flesh.  At least he could lie and say it was just the taste of you that made him make such sweet little sounds.

“Oh god!” 

You know that’ll drive him wild too.  For in his mind, he is the god to whom you cry out.  

And how right he is…

His hands snake up your waist to grab at your chest, pulling you against him even firmer.  Your hand flies back to thread in his hair, tugging softly at his ruffled locks.  The force of his bite leaves you and is replaced with his tongue laving hot across his mark.  He gives two sharp rocks of his hips before rising off of you, pulling you into a kneeling position– back tight to his chest the way he likes it.  With an arm around your waist once more, he lets loose.  The bed creaks and moans beneath the force of his motions, and you’re fully convinced it’s going to give out one day.  Its song of protest is drowned by your symphony of passion, of skin on skin and desperate noises coming from you both. 

He bites down on you again to hide his sounds, but it’s to no avail.  Nothing can quite disguise the sound of Wesker whining and whimpering as he gives three sharp thrusts and a stuttering fourth before you feel him spilling within you– and oh how he sings for you.  That edge to his voice quakes with every tight moan he can’t suppress and your name finds its way between each heavy breath.  His arms pull tighter than ever around you as if letting go would make him fade into nothing.

But he doesn’t stop.  He never stops– never stops grinding or managing the occasional shallow rut.  The slide of his cock gets wetter with every bit of come that seeps out around it.  You’re on cloud nine, dangerously close to falling over the edge yourself when the hand at your waist finally drops to finish you off.

“Let–” he gasps softly, “let go, now.” 

The sound of him still stumbling over his breaths coupled with the perfect touch does you in immediately. It makes you arch and writhe against his unyielding grip as each wave of raw pleasure beats down on the shores of your mind and body.  Wesker holds you through it, eyes focused on the rise and fall of your chest, the way you quiver and pulse around his cock clouds his mind with the same intense need that got you to this very moment.

He’s not done.  Not even close.  The feeling of your walls milking him drives him further into a madness he knows, deep down, he’s never going to escape.

And why would he ever want to?