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prettydaisygirl · 2 months ago

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i am on my hands and knees when i ask u for rafe!zombie au where they(rafe) finally admits how much he loves her after another close call with a zombie or person/group

Nonnie, I am on my hands and knees thanking you for this request! I had some ideas floating around but nothing solid and this is exactly what I needed! I love you, I hope you're doing well, and I hope you enjoy! Also, shoutout to the person who asked for a longer part, this one is the longest by far <3

Us and Them (zombie au): Chapter Nine

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader & the first "i love you" ✿ 5.4k words

cw: zombie apocalypse, fem reader, reader gets threatened with a gun, reader gets kidnapped(?), reader gets a knee injury and wounds on her feet, death from gunshot, death from fire, death from zombies, lots of death described in detail, I can't really say 'happy ending' given the AU but sweet ending

rafe cameron masterlist

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You and Rafe are on the road again.

You can say with 100% certainty that you hate when you and Rafe are moving, unsure of when you’ll get to sleep in a bed or eat a full meal again. You miss the farmhouse more and more every day, but when Rafe says it isn’t safe anymore, you know he’s right. Staying in one place for too long will just lead to complacency, which will just lead to death.

Rafe lets you hold his hand as he leads you through the woods. He pretends like he hates it, but when his thumb brushes soothingly over your knuckles, you think it brings him just as much comfort as it does you.

The sun beams down on the two of you from high in the sky. The days are getting longer now, the bone-chilling cold of winter slowly melting away into spring. The ground sloshes slightly with every step, saturated with water now that the last of the snow has melted away. Your shoes, coated in mud and plant debris, are soaked through and making your feet cold. You’ve been looking for some new ones but haven’t had any luck. The only shoe store you’ve found was completely ransacked, and you sure as shit aren’t trekking through the woods in six inch stilettos.

You feel the sting of another mosquito bite and whack it as soon as you feel the pinch. Your body is covered in small bites and welts, the tall grass not doing anything to help your poor, eaten-up legs.

“Rafe?” You say his name quietly, and he turns his head for a moment to glance at you. You press yourself into his side just for a second, just to be a little closer.

“Hmm?” His questioning sound is accompanied by a gentle squeeze of your hand, his eyes returning in front of him.

“Do you think we can get infected from mosquitos?” Your question hangs in the air for a moment and when Rafe tugs on your hand again, you realize he isn’t going to respond. You continue anyway, “I’m just saying, if a mosquito bites a zombie, and then bites me, I could die.”

“We don’t know that,” Rafe’s short response is nothing new, but his soft tone is a significant contrast from the harsh, biting words he used to spit in your direction.

“Just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t,” You argue, bumping your body into his side again. He gives you a quick side-eyed glance but doesn’t say anything else, so you speak again to fill the silence. “If you got bit by a zombie mosquito, I would shoot you and put you out of your misery.”

“I wouldn’t,” Rafe quips, voice husky and low, “I’d watch you turn ‘n let you suffer forever.”

Your jaw drops in offense and Rafe smirks, jerking you against him again. He presses the gentlest of feather-light kisses to your hair as an apology, though you know he’s just teasing.

The woods are never-ending, bits of sunlight shining through the canopy and into your eyes. Twigs crunch under your feet, and you cringe with every squish and squelch of your socks.

By the time the sun is approaching the horizon, you think your feet might fall off. Rafe picks a spot to camp, and you peel off your socks and shoes while he gets the fire started. You wiggle your toes, feeling the light breeze against your wrinkly, water-soaked skin.

“Gotta get some new shoes,” Rafe states, though more to himself than to you as he glances at your sneakers, barely holding together. He pokes at the fire as it begins to grow, then he stands with a groan as you stretch your legs forward, letting the heat of the fire warm you.

“I’m gonna walk around, scope a perimeter,” Rafe announces like he doesn’t have the same routine every night when you camp. You nod, and he nods back, grabbing his crowbar and his flashlight and moving back into the trees. The fire crackles by your feet and you hold yourself up with your palms on the ground behind you. You let your eyes fall closed as Rafe’s footsteps slowly recede further into the trees.

Things have been good between the two of you lately, at least romantically. There’s not often enough energy or space to have sex, but Rafe has been more forward and open with his affections toward you otherwise. He kisses you more, he lets you hold his hand. A few nights ago, you’d woken up to him cradling you and stroking your hair. He said you’d had a nightmare, but you think maybe he just wanted to hold you.

It’s hard, given the zombies and the survivors hunting you both down. But in a lot of ways, love is easier than it used to be. There’s no expectations, no family to argue with, no jobs to move for or rings to buy. And definitely no class standings that would keep Rafe from being with you. Now, the biggest hurdle in your relationship is keeping each other alive.

You sit up a bit, wiggling your toes again and stretching your arms. Rafe is far enough away now that you can’t hear the clomping of his heavy boots. Not having him in your line of sight is still a little nerve-wracking, less so than it used to be now that you’ve adjusted to the zombie apocalypse. Or adjusted as much as you possibly can, anyway.

The joints in your knees crack as you stand. Bare feet on the forest floor isn’t very pleasant, but it beats the possibility of getting trench foot from your wet shoes and socks. You shiver a bit at the thought.

Walking over to your pack, you kneel down to dig through it. You unzip it, digging through to find a different pair of socks.

You don’t get far in your search before something cold and metallic presses against the side of your head, and a deep voice hisses in your ear.

“Scream, and I’ll blow your fucking brains out, bitch.”

Your heart stops, your breath catches, and fear surges through you. Not Rafe. Definitely not Rafe. Is it a gun he has pressed to your head? You aren’t sure, but you aren’t going to take any chances. So, you don’t scream.

“Take your hands out of the bag, zip it, and hand it to me.” His orders are clipped and low, like he knows Rafe might sense something is off if he speaks too loud. You hesitate, and his next words are harsher.

“Now, bitch! Your man will be back soon, we don’t have time for you to fuck aroun’!”

Your hands tremble as you scramble to follow his command. You zip the bag up and lift it to hand to him, catching a glimpse of both the man and the gun that he definitely has pointed at your head. Fuck.

“Get up,” He spits, and you slowly raise up from your kneeling position. The man swings your bag over his shoulder and presses the gun into your head harder to push you forward. “Move! Grab his bag too.”

You flinch as your bare feet scrape against the ground, scrambling to grab Rafe’s bag. Your brain is completely blank, survival taking over you as adrenaline surges through your veins. You grip Rafe’s bag like a lifeline, but the man rips it harshly from your grasp. He shoves you forward again, gun to the back of your head now.

“Put your fuckin’ shoes on and let’s go,” The man growls and you cringe at the thought of putting your wet sneakers back on your aching feet. “Now!”

You shove your feet into your shoes with no socks, and you don’t waste time tying them, just shoving the laces inside beside your feet. It’s uncomfortable, and you can feel your eyes burn as you stumble forward again, the gun pressed firmly to the back of your skull.

He forces you to walk quickly, sometimes shoving into your back to push you along. He’s worried about Rafe being on your trail, you can tell. You know he’s going to be frantic in his search for you as soon as he realizes you’re gone. You can only hope it’s soon.

The sun sets quickly, the light not illuminating the ground in front of you nearly as much as it had when it was beaming down from above. You find yourself slipping and sliding through the mud and grass, and your captor’s threats only become more intense the further you go.

“Keep fuckin’ walkin’ bitch. Tha’s right,” Every word out of his mouth makes you feel like puking.

The sun has officially fully set by the time you finally get where you’re going. Your captor grabs you roughly around the arm, taking the gun away from your head. You take a full breath for the first time in what feels like hours. Your feet are killing you and you feel numb, like your body doesn’t want to process what is happening. You miss Rafe.

The man shrugs your bags off his shoulder and pushes you into a small clearing. There’s a camp with three other people around the fire, two men and a woman. They are all smiling and laughing in the middle of a conversation, but it stops immediately when they see him approaching with you. Your captor keeps a firm grip on your arm, tossing the two bags toward the others. Their eyes dart between the bags and you. You stand there, petrified, and the man only squeezes your arm harder when you try to squirm out of his grasp. It’s going to leave a bruise.

“Levi, what the fuck?” One of the other men steps forward. The man gripping your arm, Levi, scoffs.

“The fuck was I supposed to do? He left her there alone!” Levi shakes your arm with each word and you grit your teeth from the pain.

“We told you to grab their stuff and run,” The woman speaks now, standing up and taking a few steps toward you. She eyes you up and down before turning to Levi with a look of anger, “We don’t have enough supplies for anyone else. That’s why we have to steal, dumbass!”

“I couldn’ just grab the stuff n’ leave! She was righ’ there!” Levi shakes his head and shoves you forward. You stumble, landing on your knee wrong as you hit the ground. You cringe, moving to sit up and Levi pushes your head down again roughly.

“Will you stop?” The other man speaks up again. The third man is still silent, watching the interaction. “If she was there, then it clearly wasn’t the right time!”

“Well, I did it, alright? Fuck me…” Levi kicks dirt toward you and you watch as he walks away for a moment before he turns again and pulls out his gun, pointing it directly at you. Your eyes widen and you try to scramble away, crying out a bit at the pain in your knee.

“Woah, hey stop!” The woman stands up and puts herself between you and Levi.

“Move, Angie!” Levi demands, waving his gun at her. His finger is on the trigger. “If y’all want her gone so bad, I’ll just get rid of her!”

“No.” The third man finally speaks up, his voice a deep boom.

“Fuck off, Matthew!” Levi spits but Matthew stands up. He towers over Levi, who immediately backs down the closer Matthew gets.

“You aren’t gonna fuckin’ shoot her. You’ll get us all killed, who knows how many zombies are crawling around this forest.” Matthew’s voice is low, but he doesn’t need to yell. Levi gets the message and huffs, sending you a glare.

“Whatever. Fuck all y’all.” Levi flips Matthew off and pockets his gun, turning and walking back into the woods. You watch the entire interaction silently, a hand cradling your knee. Matthew gives you a look, but there’s no softness or pity at all. He returns to his spot, and you curl up where you are.

The second man, the one whose name you don’t know, grabs Rafe’s bag off the ground. You watch helplessly as he digs through it, tossing out some of Rafe’s things and ‘ooh’ing when he finds Rafe’s granola bar stash. He grabs several, tearing into them. He passes one to Matthew, who takes it and slowly begins to eat.

Deciding not to watch the three strangers continue to rummage through your stuff, you return your attention to your feet. You tug off your shoes with a hiss, each slight movement causing pain on your skin and deeper within your foot, your nerves alight. You can see blood on the inside of the soles and when you examine your feet, you see several popped blisters and some that are just forming. The sores line all sides of your feet, the skin red and inflamed. You wiggle your toes a bit and find it hurts to do so, which worries you even more.

“Well…” Man #2 speaks up again to Matthew. He thinks he’s whispering but the quiet of the night allows you to hear his words. “What should we do with her?”

Matthew closes his eyes and sighs, rubbing his fingers against his temples in small circles. You try to act like you aren’t listening, pretending to tend to your feet. “Fuckin’ Levi. He always fucks everything up.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Matthew’s gruff voice speaks up again, slow and quiet, and you have to strain your ears to catch his words. But you do.

“I guess we tie her up so she don’t run. And in the mornin’, we’ll head off and leave her.” The idea of being left alone in the woods, tied up by yourself makes your stomach churn. They don’t need to tie you up, you can’t run given your knee and your feet. When the unknown man comes toward you, you try to scramble away but he is able to tie your wrists and ankles with some thin rope, easily overpowering your struggle. The woman, Angie, watches from the sidelines with a frown.

“Do you really have to tie her up?” She asks, finishing off her granola bar and tossing the wrapper into the woods behind her. “She’s injured, look at her feet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Matthew gruffs, “You know the rules.”

You struggle against the ropes binding you but they don’t budge. You have to curl against the ground and get leverage to sit up. You lean against a tree trunk beside you, watching the others as they demolish all of your and Rafe’s work before apparently planning to abandon both of you, separated and with no supplies.

The ground is cold and wet underneath you, your clothes and skin covered in patches of mud. You fight to keep your eyes open, to keep sleep from taking over you. You don’t trust any of these people, and even though you can’t run, the thought of being unconscious and unaware right now doesn’t sit right with you. You watch as they prepare for bed, your shoulders and ankles aching from the position you’re stuck in with the ropes.

The other three settle in pretty quickly. You’re surprised none of them stayed up to keep watch. The fire begins to die out soon after they go to sleep and you somehow manage to stay awake, the twinging pain in your back keeping you from getting too comfortable. You manage to loosen your ropes, freeing your wrists and then your ankles. You're thinking of running when something catches your attention.

You hear Levi’s return before you actually see him. At least, you think it’s Levi and not a zombie. You’re not sure which one would be better, though.

The moon shines down, not quite full but almost, as Levi huffs and puffs, stomping his way back into the camp. He’s not even trying to be quiet, twigs cracking under his steps and letting out careless groans of anger. You see his shadow pass by you, and you’re grateful that you don’t seem to catch his attention. He kicks at the fire and realizes it’s out, cursing loudly as he reaches to restart it.

His movements are loose and carefree, almost like he’s drunk. He might be, though you aren’t sure where he would’ve gone to drink. There aren’t bars anymore.

Levi grunts as he tosses something into the fire and it ignites quickly, even larger than it was before. You can’t see his face, only his silhouette illuminated by the flame. He stands up, stumbling back a bit and seems to chuckle, a small shake visible in his shoulders. His hand reaches behind to his back pocket and he pulls out the gun again, his finger going to the trigger as he waves it around carelessly. You try to stay completely silent, hidden behind him and hoping he won’t notice you.

He seems pissed off that the other three are asleep. His head moves, and you can assume he is looking at each of them before he scoffs, and then he lets out an ear-piercing whistle. You jump, and the other three leap from their beds instantly, panic immediately taking over. Loud sounds like that are a surefire way to die out here, attracting God knows what in the middle of the night.

“Levi, are you crazy?” Angie hisses out, crossing her arms over her chest as she steps toward the gun-wielding man. “You’re going to get us all killed!”

“Y’all never fuckin’ appreciate what I do for the group!” Levi’s words are yelled and slurred, and he continues to wave the gun around aimlessly, finger on the trigger. He’s definitely drunk. “I got the fuckin’ bags!”

“Levi,” Matthew’s face is stern, and he approaches Levi slowly, “You need to shut the fuck up.”

“Fuck you, Matthew!” Levi points the gun at Matthew, who raises his hands despite the fact that he could easily overpower Levi. It’s better not to risk getting shot at all, you guess.

“Levi, stop!” Angie and the man whose name you don’t know both move forward to try and stop Levi, and he turns his attention back to them, gun primed for shooting in his grasp.

“No!” Levi’s voice is howled and you push yourself further up against the tree. Your feet are fucked, and so is your knee, but maybe if you stay silent, any zombies he attracts with his yelling won’t notice you. Angie’s eyes dart toward you, but as soon as they land on you, her gaze is back on Levi.

“You’re being a fuckin’ moron,” Matthew growls, stepping forward to reach for Levi’s arm. “If you’d just think for one goddamn-”

It all happens so fast, and then all hell breaks loose.

The gun goes off, the end smoking, with Levi’s finger holding down the trigger. Matthew stumbles back, raising a hand to his abdomen where the bullet entered his gut. Blood begins to seep from the wound, pouring down Matthew’s skin and soaking through his shirt. His body crumbles to the ground with a loud thud, a wet groan bubbling from his throat as he grasps at the gunshot wound.

The four of you watch for a moment, disbelief and shock thick in the air. And then Angie starts screaming.

“Matthew!” Her words are piercing, harsh and loud in the dead of night. She scrambles across the ground, hand moving over the wound in Matthew’s abdomen. The other man charges at Levi, roaring and grabbing for him. Levi seems to panic, trying to dash away so as not to get grabbed but he gets punched in the gut, doubling over. You watch, pressed against the tree and completely in shock at the scene in front of you.

Levi hits the ground, the gun tumbling from his hand and going off again. The sound echoes through the trees, bouncing off the leaves as the campfire seems to surge with the violence and chaos. The unnamed man punches at Levi over and over, the sound of his fists on Levi’s bones again and again causing you to feel sick. Levi somehow manages to shove the other man off with a grunt, and man #2 falls back, landing directly in the campfire.

His screams are immediate, his body writhing to try and escape. The flames soar around him as his clothes ignite, melting to his skin. Levi struggles to sit up, the both of you watching the scene in horror. Angie finally looks up from Matthew’s body at the other man’s screams, and she screams even louder, practically howling as she stumbles over to Levi and begins to hit him too. He tries to fight back, but he grows weaker, his body flopping back against the mud as the woman continues to pound on his chest. By the time Levi stops moving, the man in the fire has stopped moving too.

You don’t know what to do. You can’t think, you just feel like you’re separate from your body, like none of this is really happening. Like maybe you’ll flinch and wake up to Rafe holding you and stroking your hair again, like maybe you really did just have a nightmare this time because there’s no way any of this is actually happening, right?

Things go from bad to worse when you hear another raspy growl, and a few zombies begin sneaking into the clearing from the other side, lured by gunshots and screams.

You let out an involuntary cry when you try to stand, and you’re quick to cover your mouth with a hand. You can’t run, you don’t know if you can even walk really, but you know it isn’t safe to stay here. Especially not if zombies are coming. A few sneaking in could mean a dozen are headed this way. You don’t want to stick around to find out, and your body seems to understand this without you even consciously deciding to move. It hurts though, once you do.

Your feet… you’re worried if you think too much about them, you might not like what you find. It’s a pain like you’ve never experienced, only amplified by your knee, which is likely injured pretty badly if you can judge by the swelling and the obvious limp in your stride. But you keep going. You have to keep going, because if you don’t, you’ll die. And you’ve only just started to explore things with Rafe. You miss Rafe, your heart aches for him and it hurts almost as bad as your feet.

You manage to get up fully, shuffling away from the scene as quietly as you can. It hurts terribly, it’s probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done, and you can still hear the screams of the woman behind you, her ‘No! No! No!’, the sound etching itself into your brain as you slowly push yourself further and further away from that nightmare.

The movement doesn’t get easier, especially the further you get from the light and the deeper you get into the woods. It’s almost pitch black, the moonlight not able to cut through the thick canopy like sunlight can. You are running on fumes, the adrenaline in your blood is the only thing keeping you going. You trip several times, and you get cuts and scrapes all over your body, but you never fall.

When you finally manage to break through the trees, you do find yourself crumbling to the ground. Your body aches everywhere, there isn’t a single part of you that doesn’t hurt. Your eyes scan the road in front of you. It’s empty.

You can see the faintest hint of light on the horizon, or at least what you’re able to see of it from the ground. You breathe heavily, trying to will yourself to get up again, to find Rafe, to keep going, but you can’t. You lay there, trembling and in pain, until you ultimately lose consciousness.

Rafe’s laugh is deep, a full belly one you’ve only heard once or twice since you met him all those months ago. His fingers slide against your lower back, pulling you a bit closer to him. You blink, taking in your surroundings, and he places a gentle kiss to your temple.

“You alright?” He asks, tilting his head as his eyes scan your face. You nod, but you’re sort of lying. Your brain feels sluggish and you don’t feel right. The laughter of children catches your attention and you find your head turning. A little boy runs toward the two of you and Rafe picks him up easily.

“Hey, buddy!” He says the boy. You can smell a grill, hear the chatting of neighbors. Are you having a barbeque? You close your eyes for a moment, trying to get your bearings, nothing makes sense.

“Babe?” You hear Rafe’s voice, but when you open your eyes, there’s a zombie in front of you. You scream and everything goes silent. Everyone watches you with unnaturally dark eyes as you scramble back, and when you blink again it’s Rafe, not a zombie. There’s an eerie smile on his face, and on the face of the small boy he is holding too.

“What’s wrong?” Rafe’s mouth opens, but it’s not his voice you hear, it’s Levi’s. White hot fear surges through you and you step back again just as Rafe’s arms let go of the boy and he once again transforms into a zombie. You turn to run, screaming, but there are zombies everywhere, your neighbors who have become undead clawing and grabbing at you. There’s nothing you can do, you’re completely surrounded.

The grabbing is real. You can feel hands on your arms, your face, your neck. They aren’t painful, but the sensation of the touch is enough to have you screaming out and writhing away from the thing. It doesn’t let up, a gruff tone reaching your ears as you try to push them away, tears streaming down your face.

“It’s me,” The thing says, “Shh, I gotcha. It’s me, baby.”

You force your eyes to open, vision swirling as the familiar voice soothes you before you even register that it’s Rafe. He’s above you, the morning light making him look like an angel and for a moment you think you died.

Until all the pain, fear, and memories come back.

“Rafe?’ You ask, hissing as you try to move. You can’t, and Rafe reaches out to stop you before you try again. “How-”

“Don’t move,” He says lowly, arms moving to reach around you. He gathers you against him and you cry out a little when he jostles you. He coos into your ear and you manage to wrap an arm around his shoulder, face buried in his neck.

If you didn’t hurt so bad, you really would think you died. Rafe is so gentle with you, soft and kind in a way he’s never been before. Even during the more intimate moments between the two of you, he was never really a lover.

He carries you through the woods, and into a cabin you don’t recognize. You don’t ask, you can’t ask, moving in and out of consciousness as he cleans you up and places you on an old bed. The mattress is thin enough that you can feel the beams but it’s better than the floor.

Rafe lays next to you, fingers resting over your neck to feel your pulse. He was able to get you to drink a few sips of water, and you managed a hum of agreement to try and eat in the morning. You don’t know if Rafe really knows how to take care of you, but he’s trying. Even in your state, you recognize how different this is from how he normally acts.

“You’re not a zombie?” You ask him, brows furrowing as your overwhelmed brain confuses your dreams with reality. “What happened to the cookout?”

Rafe takes your words in stride, shushing you and pulling you closer as gently as he can manage. You still whimper but you curl into him, seeking his warmth. “You’re okay,” He says, and then again, “I gotcha, baby.”

Someday soon, he’ll ask you what happened, and he’ll hold you as you sob and recount the entire night. He’ll vow to never leave you alone again, to teach you how to fight, and you’ll swear he lets a few tears fall too.

But for now, you don’t think about what happened. You think about Rafe, and how warm he is, and how his body keeps tensing and he pushes his fingers against your neck to feel for your pulse. You think about the dream you had, the good parts of it, with the neighbors and the cookout and the little boy who looks like Rafe. You think about finding somewhere safe like the farmhouse where Rafe can hold you like this and you’ll never be worried about Levi or anyone like him ever again.

The words come then, whispered that same night while he cuddles you in the cabin’s small bed. He’s barricaded the door and completely blocked the windows. You know he won’t sleep a wink and you probably won’t either. The bed isn’t comfortable. You feel more like yourself, the pain dulled after Rafe managed to find some pain pills. Other than that, and a few expired cans in the cabinets, you have no supplies, you’ve lost all of your things, and it’s probably the worst off you two have been since the beginning. But you’re together.

“I thought I lost you,” He whispers against your hair. You don’t move, his hand sprawling against your back under your shirt. Maybe he thinks you’re asleep. “Fuck, I’ve never been scared like that.”

The admission is one that has your heart pounding and butterflies erupting in your stomach. Even with your feet bandaged and your knee swollen, and cuts all over your face, Rafe still wants to hold you. He’s admitting things to you in the dark, things he never would’ve imagined himself saying to anyone. But you’re not anyone.

“When I got back, I was going to tell you I found this place but you… you weren’t there. And your shoes were gone, and the bags. I knew something had happened. I tried looking around but I had no idea which direction you went in.” He pauses, swallowing thickly and you think he might cry, but he doesn’t. He pulls you even closer to him, completely wrapping himself around you.

“You did so good goin’ to the road, baby. I’m so proud of you, tha’s how I found you.” His lips brush over your cheek and your ear, and you find your skin warming under his touch, his whispered praise.

“I thought I was going to die,” You admit to him, and his lips pause for a moment. You think maybe he really did think you were asleep. “I tried to get up, but I saw the road and I just…”

“Shh… You did everything right, I’m so proud of you.”

You don’t feel like you did everything right, the horror of what you witnessed will probably always be with you. But your life since the start of the End has been suffering broken up with moments of peace and joy. So you think this moment, with Rafe in this cabin, will mean more to you in the future as eventually the horror begins to fade away. You let tears fall, soaking into his shirt.

“I love you,” He whispers, and you sniffle, pulling back enough to look at him, trying to hide your grimace from the pain of moving. “I’ve never said it to anyone before, but I do. It scared the fuck outta me when you were gone.”

“I love you, too.” You whisper back, and Rafe wipes at your tears. He kisses you then, soft and sweet. His fingers barely touch you, afraid of causing you any kind of pain. He whispers it again when you pull away from the kiss and settle down to try and sleep. There, etched into your soul right next to the helpless screams of Angie, is the sound of Rafe’s whispered words, holding you together as you’re falling apart.

“I love you.”

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anakinstwinklebunny · 6 months ago

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i LOOVEEEE the way you write omfg and so a zombie apocalypse AU has been haunting my mind and IK YOU’D EAT!! Maybe with Sam or Ani and ANY kind but some crazy smut is always fire<3

ANAKIN SKYWALKER, covered in dirt and blood with body pressed up against yours in a hidden corner of a ruined building.

World outside was literally collapsing - buildings around you half-destroyed, debris everywhere, the sounds of distant moans from the zombies being heard outside 24/7. You were trying to keep quiet, trying to focus on staying alive, trying not to bring attention to both of you.. But Anakin... Anakin was just too much.

"Shh," he hissed as a warning as he run his hand down your spine, thumb brushing over the curve of your ass. The material stuffed in your mouth keeps you from making any noise, hands tied behind your back keeping you from leaving nail prints on the wall, but it did not stop the pooling heat building inside you.

"Don’t make a sound," he orders, and you understand: zombies closing in, and the last thing you need is to give away your position. His bionic hand moves up to your neck, wrapping around gently, a warning that he can make you submit in an instant. But his voice, husky and desperate, tells you he doesn’t care about the apocalypse as much as he cares about you right now.

Anakin pulls his pants down, and before you can even register it, he's inside you, thrusting hard, grip tightening on your waist, letting his long fingers dig into your softness. He’s relentless--fucking you as though it’s the only thing that matters in the world, the only thing that could take his mind off the shit going on around you.

His thrusts are deep, hard, punishing. You try to moan, but the material in your mouth muffles you, and you can only make muffled whimpers as his hips slam against you.

“Fucking hell, you feel so good,” voice raspy, trying to be quiet. The sound of his skin meeting yours fills the small, obscene space, mixing with the distant moans of the zombies outside. Gosh, what if that is the last thing you do before you actually die? It was just a matter of facts that you were in a race against time, but neither of you could care more at this moment. You need this--need him--too much. And if that's going to kill you, then let it be the most beautiful death of your life

Just as soon as you felt your climax building, this delicious feeling creeping in, twisting your organs, pooling in your lower belly - he pulled out. And for a split second, you think he’s done. You're all panting, eyes watery, whining for him not to stop, to not leave you like this right now. You hear him chuckle quietly, and before you can even react, he’s flipping you around, slamming you back against the wall again. You gasp, air being knocked out of you, and before you can fully catch your breath again, he’s entering you again, this time from behind.

His hand wrapped around your neck, pressing just enough to keep you from making a sound but pressing enough to make you feral, crazy, nuts for him and him alone

"Did you think you could scream for me?" he whispers in your ear "Not here, sweetheart. Not with them out there."

Your body betrays you as you push back against him, hips meeting his, desperation rising with each push of his body. He’s grunting now, and you can tell he's struggling to hold back--desperate to come, but determined to make you finish first, what a gentleman

"faster" you want to scream, but it comes out as a broken sound, muffled by a fabric. And Anakin? All he can do is obey, moving even faster, barely controlling his own sounds now, muttering something about you being too tight, too warm. That he'll milk you, make you see the stars you so desperately craved to see

So with a final hard thrust, you’re done. The orgasm crashes over you like a wave, body trembling as you bite down on the material in your mouth so hard you can taste it just to stifle the sound.

Anakin isn’t far behind, hips stuttering as he fills you, grip tightening around your neck as he finished, a beautiful, delighted groan slipping from his lips. He didn't pull away immediately. You two didn't move, just caught your breath when he finally pushed the material out of your dry mouth

"You okay?" he asks, breath still ragged.

You nod, but your heart is pounding for reasons other than fear. God, you need him.

Anakin smirks, eyes flicking to the door. "We should get moving before they realize they missed the party."

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 2 years ago

Text

part two to this little thing 'cause i saw these tags on the last part from @stevesjester and actually kicked my feet and giggled about it

After Pretty Boy kissed him, Eddie walked back to the staff break room in a daze.

His slow lumbering gait still managed to scare some folks, though, so that’s a plus.

He opens the door, slowly turns to close it softly, and leans back against it once it is.

“Eddie? You okay?” Comes a voice he’d know anywhere. “Wait, that is you, right? You’re supposed to be Piggy Man tonight?”

Eddie pulls the rubber mask off, making his stomach flip thinking about the last time it was pulled up. You know, ‘cause he’s a sap.

Chrissy takes in his shocked, sweaty face, “Oh my god, you okay? What happened?”

He looks up at his roommate (best friend, sister) in her bloody cheerleader costume, an ironic holdout from their time in high school, and breathes a laugh, “I fell in love.”

“OMG OMG tell me everything right now!!” Chrissy bounces over to him excitedly and pulls him down to the bench of their one (1) break table, a sagging plastic picnic table.

He looks up at her bright happy face and barks out a half hysterical laugh, “I can’t believe you’re this excited about me potentially falling in love with someone I’m literally being paid to scare.”

“Oooh, so they were a runner??”

“Yeah, literally in this case.”

“Start talking, Munson, or I’m going to throw all your guitar picks down the garbage disposal.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ.. Okay, so I did my usual creepy husky voice at him, called him all the usual things,”

“Let me guess, you started with ‘pretty boy’?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s pretty. Duh. Damn was he pretty…”

“Uh huh. And you fell in love with him ‘cause he was pretty?”

“No, no of course not, listen to this:” Eddie sits up straighter in preparation for the story. “I had him backed into a corner, right? The fake gate over in section 2B,”

“Ah yes, of course.”

“Yeah! And when I lunged at him, he caught my arm, and spun me around.”

“Shut. Up.”

“No, never. SO he’s got me backed against the fence, and he–I swear to fucking Jesus H. Christ–lifts my mask up and kisses me.”

Chrissy starts to squeal incoherently. “Eeeeee!!! Shutupshutupshutup!! Holy shit there’s no way this happened!!”

“Look, 100% serious right now; he kissed me stupid, and spun around and booked it again.”

“Pretty Boy distracted you with a kiss to escape!?! I cannot believe this, c’mon..” Crissy grabs ahold of his arm again and pulls him out of the breakroom with her insane unchecked leftover cheer squad strength.

“Whoa, what? Where’re we going?? He’s probably gone by now! I was standing over in 2B like an idiot for a while after he left!!”

“Not that, we gotta go see Argyle.”

“Argyle why—ohhh shit. Oh my god, you think they caught it on camera?” Eddie’s actively following her now.

The two burst into the warehouses’ security office, where they’re met with the backs of two ‘zombie’ guards (and the leftover smell of weed).

“Argyle, Jonathan, you need to look at something for us,”

“Is it the footage of Eddie’s makeout sesh in 2B? ‘Cause we’re waaayy ahead of you pompom.”

“Ah!! Holy shit he was telling the truth?!” Chrissy bodies between the two, sending Argyle rolling away on his chair, and Jonathan staggering back a step.

“Dude, that’s so cool of your boyfriend to come to the haunt, keepin’ us in business.” Argyle directs at Eddie, though still spinning slowly in his chair.

“He’s not my–you thought he was my boyfriend?”

“Yeah man, why else would you look at him like that.” Jonathan points down at the screen.

Chrissy re-winds it again and Eddie watches himself charge forward at Pretty Boy (damn, he’s still pretty though this grainy footage too, how the fuck is that possible??), get spun and–oh shit, they’re right.

“Oh Jesus Christ.” he hangs his head into his hands, falling down into Jonathan’s previously abandoned chair.

“Sooo…he’s not your boyfriend..?”

Chrissy re-winds the footage again. Squeals happily.

“Nope. Just met him tonight.”

“Wow dude, that’s like, love at first sight if I ever saw it.”

She re-winds it again, squeals.

“Yeah I know, it’s embarrassing as shit, alright?” Eddie’s still talking into his palms.

Chrissy snorts at that, “Not for you! Well..kinda..but him too, did you not see that pause?”

“...What pause?”

His question goes unanswered as Jon and Argyle move back in over Chrissy’s shoulders and after a few seconds both “Ohh…” in sync.

“The fuck’re you talking about?”

“Look,” She re-winds the tape once again and points, “Watch after he lifts your mask.”

So he does, and..okay, there was a pause.

“...So?”

“He totally fell in love with you at the same time you did him. Fell with him. With each other?”

“You both fell in love at the same time.” Chrissy says what Jonathan was trying to. “We have GOT to find this guy somehow.”

Chrissy records the footage on the screen with her phone, intending to post it online to find the guy, but Argyle’s positive he’s gonna show back up tonight.

“Give him a chance, pompom, he’s totally in love too, remember?”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t come back today, I’m posting this. Maybe it’ll get us some more business too.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Yep, there it is.

So, he rolls his eyes, puts his mask back on, and finishes out the night like everything is normal and he didn’t just fall head over fuckin’ heels for a random (hot) stranger earlier.

He’s done for the night before Chrissy since she’s got a lot of that fake blood to try and wash off, so he grabs up his stuff and heads out the front, intending to wave bye to Gareth at the front counter before braving the frigid late fall wind to warm up his car (and move it closer to the entrance so Chrissy doesn't have to walk in the cold).

“See ya Ed,” Gareth calls, and he waves over his shoulder at him as he passes, his attention pulled to a blonde with a choppy bob looking in through the glass of the door, partially silhouetted by the bright ass headlights of a shiny Tesla parked behind her.

He can see the shadow of someone in the driver seat too, as he gets closer and opens the door for her, their face only partially lit up through the tinted glass by the glow of a phone screen.

She starts rambling off immediately after the door is open. “Oh my god, I thought we were too late and you were closed and I completely didn’t even realize I’d left something here when we were here earlier an–”

“Nope, no worries, ma’am, just go talk to Gareth at the front counter and he can tell you if someone turned in…whatever it is you left here.”

She says her thanks and scoots past him, and he spins quickly towards the side lot where his old Neon is parked.

He glances back when he hears the bell chime over the door, a bit delayed (probably the wind holding it open), and sees that the Tesla’s stopped beaming their headlights into the front door, that’s nice of them.

He unlocks his car and gets in, turning the engine over and cranking the heat as high as it’ll go. Once the engine stops it’s signature ‘I’m cold as fuck rn, don’t even try to move me’ rattle, he drives to the front door to wait for Chrissy, pulling in next to the burgundy Tesla.

He scrolls down TikTok for a couple minutes before a banner pops up on his screen

Chris C.: oh my holy fucking shit eddie, get your ass back inside!

Panicking, he races back in through the door, not even bothering to shut off his engine (or close his car door for that matter), thinking shiny Telsa duo is like, robbing the place or something, but as soon as he gets back in, he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart’s still beating a mile a minute, but now with nerves.

Because standing infront of the counter are Chrissy (who’s actually vibrating with excitement), choppy blonde, and…

Oh fuck.

No way.

“H–hi, hi. I’m Steve, you’re Eddie right?”

He can’t help the grin that splits across his face. “Hey, pretty boy.”

thanks to @henderdads for rightfully pointing out that modern day rich boy steve would probably have a tesla <3

tagging everyone i saw in the tags of the last post that seemed interested in more/wanted to see the aftermath lmao: @bangarangdarling, @tartarusknight, @kas-eddie-munson, @wormdebut (AMAZING url btw), @vecnuthy, @perseus-notjackson, @homosexual-having-tea, @matchingbatbites, @scarcrossdlvrs, @anzelsilver, @auroraplume, @kkpwnall, @wildwildsoul, @bennys-burgers, @steveharringtonssluttywaist

#steddie #st #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #st ficlet #steddie ficlet #platonic hellcheer #chrissy cunningham #jonathan byers #argyle #gareth emerson #modern au #noelle writes

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pupwashing · 9 months ago

Text

The Cuck Curse

leon kennedy x fem!reader x zombie!carlos oliveira

tags: dubcon, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, cucking

wc: 1.7k

a/n: part one of my planned October mini series.. whats scarier than getting cucked by various creatures? comments, rbs, and general feedback is appreciated!

Leon’s not one to believe in superstitions, but he is one to whine when things don’t go his way.

Throwing around the word ‘curse’ makes him seem like a baby, and Leon Kennedy is no baby.

Leon Kennedy is a stud, and that fact makes him feel entitled to things he has no business being entitled to, like women.

Leon and women don’t mix well, despite the fact that he’s cute enough to eat. He’s heard those words since birth, from his peers at the playground and the grandmothers at grocery stores.

So naturally, he’s got an ego around his appearance. That same ego makes him unappealing to the vast dating pool.

Leon swore he wouldn’t die a virgin, and he meant every word of that swear, so when Raccoon City descended into zombie-fueled chaos, his only thought was surviving long enough so he’d get to have sex with somebody, anybody.

That’s where you come in.

You’re a rookie police officer, just like Leon. You’re also having a shitty first day. You two have enough in common that you’re traveling together, and he’s convinced that once you find a safe enough spot, you’ll let him hit.

He’s seen the way you look at him. You think he’s attractive, and he’s a stranger to you, so you don’t know about his arrogance or his general asshole-ery. It’s like he’s finally found favor from God.

But to fuck, you two have to find somewhere safe to camp out, and this police station has fallen into complete and utter ruin.

Many of the rooms were either filled with corpses of the dead or just too torn up to safety stay in, and Leon was starting to get irritated. There’s always something getting in the way of him getting laid, and it’s currently the zombie apocalypse.

Exploring the station, you two finally come upon the S.T.A.R.S. office. It isn’t filled with the undead, thankfully, so it’s suitable to serve as a place of rest. You both have been running around the station all night, and it’s surprisingly hard to outrun a hoard of hungry zombies.

As you focus on boarding up the office, Leon is shamelessly checking you out.

Women in uniform are one of Leon’s many weaknesses, and he’s already pent up because he skipped out on jacking off last night. He’s coming to regret that decision now.

“You’re pretty strong.” Leon comments, pressing his front to your back as you finish boarding up the door.

He was going to add ‘for a girl’ to the comment, but he decided to hold his tongue. He figured giving you a backhand compliment wouldn’t make you want to have sex with him.

“Thank you, you’re uh, you’re pretty strong too.” You replied, shivering from his close proximity.

Leon wasn’t exactly doing much of the heavy lifting at all.

In fact, he was barely doing any lifting. Too distracted by his own goal of having sex, he’s been leaving you to fend for your own against the zombies. He hasn’t fired a single bullet all night, and it’s making you wonder why he even has a gun in the first place.

“You know,” He began, his plushy pink lips brushing against your ear.

“I think we deserve to unwind a little. We’ve been running for our lives all night, and we seem to be holed up in here pretty safely. What do you say?”

His voice was husky with a hint of a whine to it, as if he’d cry if you denied him what he so desperately wanted.

Leon is cute, and you haven’t gotten laid in a couple days. You’re pretty sure that your ex-fuck buddy became part of the undead, so you don’t have anyone waiting up for you either.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” You murmured as you turned to face him. His eyes darkened, a smirk on his lips. Finally, Leon Kennedy would get to fuck as he so rightfully deserved.

Leon gripped your hips tightly as he leaned in, letting his lips connect with yours. He knew you guys weren’t exactly in the safest place to try and take it slow, but sucking face with a girl that wants to fuck him is important in his eyes.

You could tell he seldomly kissed anyone, because it was incredibly sloppy. He didn’t know what to do with his tongue, his teeth clashed against yours, and he was drooling in your mouth.

You pushed his chest with a polite smile. “Maybe we should skip the kissing, yeah? Don’t want to run out of time.” You suggested, and Leon nodded along.

He lowered his head to your neck, licking and nipping at your skin. At least he knows how to do hickeys correctly.

You tilted your head back to give him more access, moaning softly at the feeling. His lips sucked greedy marks onto the sensitive flesh of your neck, and it seemed like he wouldn’t be stopping anytime soon.

The two of you were so into the steamy scene that you didn’t realize the heavy footsteps of something approaching the office. The creature’s heavy breaths could be heard outside the door, but neither of you realized until it was too late.

The door to the S.T.A.R.S. office was ripped open, those boards you took time to place doing nothing to stop the raw strength of a rogue zombie.

Leon pulls away from you, shock etched on his features. This zombie isn’t like the others. It’s someone who’s been freshly turned, and whoever was turned must’ve been huge.

The zombie stared at you and Leon, but did it did not charge, instead, it approached slowly.

You were shocked, frozen with fear. It was obvious regular bullets wouldn’t take this thing down, but you were wondering if you would even need them. It wasn’t hostile, but that raised more questions than answers. If it didn’t want brains, what was it after?

The zombie stopped in front of you, looking down at your form as if it were sizing you up.

You stared back at it, noticing a patch on the tactical vest it wore. It has writing on it, so you tried reading it.

“C. Oliveira?” You mused aloud, which got the attention of the zombie. It groaned, reaching to grab you. It’s hands were clammy and cold, and it made you yelp.

“Let go of me!” You demanded, and Leon stepped into action. He tried to rush the zombie, but it flung him into the wall, which knocked the wind out of him. He could only watch what the zombie planned on doing to you.

You were frightened by its immense strength. If it could knock Leon into a wall, what else could it do? Your mind raced with frantic questions of the capability of the monster, as well as it planned on doing.

The question of its intentions was swiftly answered when it ripped your uniform to shreds, exposing your underwear.

“Hey! What was that for?” You exclaimed, but the zombie didn’t answer. It pinned you to the wall, keeping you firmly in place as its hand when down its pants.

Suddenly, everything was crystal clear. This zombie was horny and had found its target to relieve itself with. You.

You weren’t a fan of being a fuckdoll for an undead hunk, but you also weren’t a fan of having broken bones, so you didn’t move.

You gulped when you saw the zombie take out its dick. Its somehow all in tact, and it’s grossly huge.

Before you could even blink, the zombie pulled your panties to the side, slamming into you seconds after. Your eyes rolled to the back of their sockets when it did so.

You had no time to adjust before the zombie began to thrust, its hips snapping like there was no tomorrow. You couldn’t help but moan. As ruthless as it was, it felt good.

Leon was watching all of this, and he was pissed. He was about to get laid, just for this zombie to barge in and take his fuck?

Leon knew about cucking, and cucking is for losers who are unattractive and can’t fuck, so they watch other people do it for them. That’s not who Leon is.

Leon Kennedy is not a cuck.

It’s painful to listen to you moan as the zombie fucks into you, its dick stretching your gummy walls and bullying your cervix. He’s surprised that you can take dick so well, and it fills him with a terrible jealousy.

It pisses him off, how he has to listen to the squelch of your pussy, or the deep grunts from the zombie as it brutally splits you open.

You thought it would hurt, having some brute of a zombie ram its way deep into your guts, but the feeling of pleasure trumps the feeling of any type of pain.

The zombie’s grunts and huffs quicken as its thrusts do the same. It’s heavy balls slap against your clit, making your knees even weaker. You’re closing in on an orgasm, and so is the zombie.

More hard thrusts make you cum with a cry, causing you to cream around the zombie’s cock and slick to drip down your thighs.

The zombie groans lowly as it cums deep inside of you, pumping its thick and sticky seed into you. Once its dick is flaccid again, the zombie pulls out, letting you collapse onto the floor as it exits the office.

Leon can’t believe his eyes, seeing you sweaty and naked on the ground, a pool of cum dripping out of you that isn’t his own. It makes his blood boil.

Seeing the zombie leave, Leon steps up, finding some paper towels to clean you up with. You looked a mess, and the only reason he cared was because it wasn’t of his doing. If you looked like this after he fucked you, he would’ve been proud.

After you were clean and calm, Leon decided it would be best if the two of you tried to escape the station instead of camping out.

It was obvious seeing you get fucked in front of him by a damned zombie was pissing him off.

You both decided to never talk about that incident ever, to anyone. It was embarrassing for the two of you, and it would be awkward to explain that you got fucked by a zombie so hard you came.

At least something like this would never happen again, right?

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #carlos oliveria x reader #carlos oliveria smut #carlos oliveira x you #carlos oliveira smut #dividers by saradika #ama writes

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emmyrosee · 2 years ago

Text

He knows you’re tired. Exhausted even.

Standing in line at the grocery store, you’d been closer and cuddlier to Koutarou than usual, burrowing your head in the nape of his neck and swaying slightly to stand. On the car ride home, you can barely keep your eyes open, leaning over the center console and trying to burrow into him.

He loves it an unhealthy amount.

But he doesn’t know, really, why you’re so out of it today- you say you don’t know either, but he thinks youre full of it, and he can tell by the cheeky look you give him every time he asks.

It’s not your fault Kodzuken’s been streaming at ungodly hours lately.

It does seem to reach a point today where you’re a zombie, barely able to function or move without a massive delay. It took you and Koutarou fifteen minutes to unload the car’s groceries; by the sixteenth, he scoops you in his bulky arms and carries you in.

“Taro, no,” you grumble, not really putting up a fight. “Gotta help you.” Still ignoring you, he settles you on the couch with a blanket and a kiss loving nuzzle to your nose, and tutting softly when you mumble a barely coherent ‘m fine.’

“No, you’re not,” he chuckles, guiding you back down. “I got the groceries. Then we can cuddle and nap and be as close as you want.”

And while your eyes look as if there’s a fight in you, your smile of mercy says otherwise, and you lay your head back down onto the arm of the couch and pull the blanket higher, allowing yourself to drift.

And Bokuto has full intentions of letting you sleep. Honestly! The groceries are being stocked, frozen’s tucked away until there’s an incessant buzzing on his phone.

A flurry of text updates from Atsumu; EJP’s game finally started, and he’d be a liar if he said he wanted to miss it.

“Ah, no way! I thought their game was earlier!” He says aloud, bounding into the living room and plopping down onto the couch, startling you from your sleep. You whine angrily, but he’s already zoned in to the action. He feels your eyes boring into him, and the couch dips under your moving weight as you crawl towards him.

“Who’s game?”

He forgets to answer as his eyes are now focused on the screen, a smile of excitement curling on his face as he lets his eyes dance over the action of the game in the middle of its first set.

“EJP? I thought we missed it.”

“Yeah!” He says excitedly. “It’s Washio’s team- game must’ve gotten bumped, thought it was earlier too.”

“Did it just start?”

“Seems like it,” he says, tossing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in for a hug. You nuzzle and curl against him, but his excitement never lets you get too comfortable in his husky frame.

This, has you silent for a second. Then, you hum next to him and get up, breaking his focus from the television, “where are you going?” He asks softly, but turns back towards the tv when a whistle blows.

“Just have to use the bathroom,” you say, planting a kiss to his temple. “I’ll be back, just keep track of the plays for me.”

“You got it!” He says happily, leaning forward on his knees to watch the match.

Time truly does fly, as within seemingly minutes after turning on the tv, EJP finally seems to sweep the match completely, the post game interviews starting up right after. He pouts, but when he looks at his phone, his brows shoot up as nearly an hour has passed from when he turned on the tv.

He turns his head to ask you what you thought, but when he does, you’re not there. The spot next to him is cold, and he checks his phone again to see if you maybe left without telling him?

No dice.

He has no clue where you went.

“Baby?” He calls, rising from the couch and clicking off the tv to look for you. The house is silent, you’ve seemingly vanished from the vicinity, but you usually are pretty good at telling him when you leave.

He calls your name once again before finally crawling up the stairs to search, but it doesn’t take long for him to peek through the ajar door and smile at your napping form.

You’re curled up on his side of the bed, cuddled into his pillow and resting soundly under the blanket. Your eyes twitch as you dream your extravagant dreams, one he’s sure you’ll tell him about later. Koutarou sighs softly in relief before coming in and closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he mumbles lowly, as if to not scare you. “Whatcha doin?” When you mewl a quiet ‘taro?’, he crawls next to you in bed, spooning you into his warm arms and gently taking selfish inhales of your scent. You flip into his embrace and burrow into the dip of his neck as you’ve done countless of times in your relationship.

“Game over?” You murmur, and he shushes you softly.

“Yeah- we won. I would’ve let you nap; you didn’t have to abandon me,” he snickers.

There’s a cheeky smirk that spreads on your slumbered features. It’s obvious to him now that you wanted to be alone to sleep, and while he’s not thrilled you were in here by yourself, or that you tricked him to be alone, he’s gotta admit that you played the game well. “You were busy,” you murmur. “Nice to nap without your snores.”

“Excuse you.” He kisses your forehead and uses one of his massive hands to cup the back of your head. “Go back to bed. I’ll deal with you later.”

“Mkay,” you yawn. The room is silent again, and just before your breathing can even out once again, you giggle from his neck. “Can’t believe you bought it.”

“I can’t believe you tricked me!”

You let out another little snicker before tuck closer to him, letting sleep take over while Bokuto lets his fingers gently massaging the back of your head with soft hands.

He’ll just have to scold you for it later.

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ghostofthemost141 · 2 years ago

Text

Pretty

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader, First POV, no use of (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,488

Themes: Angst, Self Loathing

About: After the end of the zombie apocalypse, the world may be back to normal, but your life is at a standstill as Task Force 141 works to try and find a reverse cure for your boyfriend Ghost.

Notes: This was inspired by a little drabble someone wrote here on Tumblr and when I went to try and find it, I couldn't find it so if someone finds it please let me know so I can give credit to them since this short is based off of that post. I also decided not to use (Y/N) for this one and instead everyone calls you Dolly, which means a gift of God that Simon gave you. Hope you enjoy!

How long does this have to go on for? I feel as if this is torture to keep him in here. I just want to reach in there and hold his hand, but it wouldn’t do me any good. It would hurt more, much, more.

“‘Ou in here, Dolly?” A thick, accented voice came through, calling me by my nickname.

“Hm.” I respond back, not taking my eyes off of him.

It was Johnny, coming to check on me for the millionth time. It’s going to be the same old, same old so I don’t know why he even bothers at this point. Johnny stopped next to me, him standing and me sitting on the ground, as he stared into the incubator containment thing that was across the room. Every once in a while, he will make a groaning or growling noise at me, but that was it.

“Dinner is ready. Price sent me to fetch ya.” Johnny told me.

“Just do it without me.” I mumbled, not moving my eye contact.

Johnny sighed in slight annoyance, but I ignored it.

“You gotta come eat with us, Dolly. He wouldn’t want you to do that to yourself.”

I tightly shut my eyes together, hearing what he used to sound like in my head, as if he was scolding me. But that voice would never come, for his husky, deep voice was replaced by deep gutter growls that don’t mean nothing but the fact that I am his next meal.

You need to eat, love. S’not good for you to not eat.

I could almost hear him saying it, but it was just my mind playing tricks on me.

“I just want to be alone, McTavish.” I strongly said.

Johnny sighed, but remained where he was at. I wanted to yell at him, but I didn’t have the strength nor energy to do it.

“We are still lookin’ and tryin’, you know that righ’?”

I nodded in response, knowing what he was going to say. He says it every time he catches me in here.

“I’ll save ya a plate.”

Johnny finally turned and exited the room. It’s not that I didn’t mind the company, it’s just that I am tired of hearing the same old shit.

“We are still lookin’ and tryin’, you know that righ’?”

“It’s hard to find a cure, kid.”

“We are doing our best.”

“He will be cured soon.”

Soon. Soon. I feel like they are just lying to me at this point. I know they are just trying to keep my spirits afloat, but how can you when the person you love the most is kept in solitude in order to prevent him from turning you? His eyes were a cloudy white instead of his normal bright, blue azure eyes. They’ve managed to keep his organs and body alive so when we do, or if we find a cure his body will be normal, as if he was never turned in the first place. It wasn’t the fact that he turned that scared me the most, it was the fact that as soon as Simon realized he was bitten, he tried to break his own jaw to prevent him from hurting us. In retrospect, he was doing it to protect us, but he only stopped when I was basically wrestling him to not do it, in case we found a cure. That was the last time his beautiful, piercing eyes looked into mine with so much emotion. Simon is stubborn and always wants to do things his way, but for once in his life, he listened to me. It wasn’t long after that he turned. I watched him turn and before he did, Simon made me promise that if he tried to hurt me, that I would stop him, by any means necessary. Ironically enough, and kind of funny, but Simon as a zombie is nothing compared to how slick and quick he is in real life. The rest of the task force was able to apprehend him before he could even come close to me and stick him in the incubator, where he has been staying in for the past month. I miss him so much. I never thought I would miss our miserable times out in the field or us sitting outside in the miserable freezing cold because it was the only time we could get some alone time together or even us sparring together. I just want Simon back. A deep grumble in my stomach brought me back to reality. Johnny is right. For once he is right. I stretched my arms and legs out, stood up on my feet, and began to walk out of the room.

“Rrrrrrr..”

A deep growl came from the incubator. I turned to find Simon leaning onto the glass, those clouded eyes piercing through my soul.

“I’ll be back, Simon, I promise.”

A deep hiss came from his throat, his arm reaching out as if he was trying to reach for me. I can’t watch this, it hurts me so much. I immediately walked out of the room, and shut the door behind me, hearing his growls grow louder. I don’t know if that is his way of trying to communicate with us or he is truly… I shook my thoughts away and made my way to the dining hall.

I almost envy the guys. They can just pretend that everything is normal and there’s nothing going on, meanwhile my partner, the love of my life, is stuck in his own hell prison. They always try to uplift my spirits and sometimes it works, but on days like today, I’d rather be left alone than try and pretend that everything is okay. As soon as I was done eating, I just went into my room to go to sleep. I didn’t have the heart to go back into the incubator room. Whether or not he was still conscious in his mind, it still hurt me to see him like that. I like to think he is, but that honestly makes me feel worse knowing he is trapped in his own mind and body, while we aren’t even close to finding a cure.

“Oh Si..” I grumbled, trying to contain my tears, “I’m so sorry.”

The tears escaped my eyes, running rapidly down my face, as the memories of him and I came flooding back, from when he was human, before this apocalypse happened. I came to the task force two years ago and it is kind of embarrassing to say but I was head over heels for Simon as soon as I saw him. The more missions we did together, the harder I fell for him. Maybe it was his attitude, or the mask, or his accent, but I was falling hard. It wasn’t until one night were the entire task force had been drinking more than they should and Simon ended up following me back to my room that night. It was as if we had been together for years prior to that, we just clicked so much. We started dating in secret and it wasn’t until right before the apocalypse happened, that we were busted by Price. Of course he wasn’t happy about it, but by the time everything went down, he didn’t care at that point. Simon was protecting me when he got bit and it was my own damn fault. I wasn’t paying attention and Simon took the bite for me. He shouldn’t have. I should be dead right now and he should be alive. Not me, no, not me. I deserve it after all because Simon is the reason why he is trapped in his own body. We are never going to find a cure. And it is all because of-

*KnockKnock*

“Hey Doll?”

Price.

“Come in..” I mumbled.

The door swung open, emitting the hallway light into my pitch black room.

“Oh, blimey. You’re gonna ruin your eyesight in ‘ere.” Price commented.

I just shrugged my shoulders in response.

“Just came to check in on ya. I managed to get a hold of a base that's a bit of a drive, but it could be our chance.”

“Are you for real this time?” I ask urgently.

“As real as shiet, Dolly.” Price confirmed, earning a chuckle out of me.

I sighed, with some relief in mind.

“We will get ‘im back. I promised yous that a long time ago and I damn well intend to keep that promise. You hear?”

“I hear ya, Captain.” I said.

“Alright, goodnight, Dolly.”

“Goodnight.” I softly said as Price shut my door, and walked off.

There is some good in this life. I will soon have my Simon back and we will be back in each other's arms, cuddling, fucking, drinking tea, watching shitty rom-com movies, and much more. He will be back. He will be..

…

..rrrrr

What? What the fuck was that?

.rrrrrrrr.

I wanted to move but for some reason that noise paralyzed me into being still. It sounded familiar and that is what scared me the most.

Rrrrrrrrrrr.

It was louder and closer this time. Please don’t tell me-

Rahhhhhhhhh

I jolted out of bed, grabbing the hidden knife I have in my mattress and cornered it into my room.

Rah..rah..

What the hell was this? Or who the hell was it? Keeping my eye on what it was, I slowly tip-toed backwards to my room light and flicked it on, my heart dropping.

“What?”

“How?”

I mumbled out loud, seeing Simon standing there, staring at me with those hideous clouded eyes.

“How did you get out?” I tearfully pleaded, knowing he can’t respond.

Simon just stared, slowly stepping towards me, groaning in the process. I kept my knife in front of me, just in case.

“Listen to me love. If I try to bite you, you end me no matter what? Do ‘ou understand?”

Simon’s words echoed in my head, remembering what he told me. I didn’t want to do this, no, please don’t make me do this.

“S-Stay away, please.” I croaked.

Simon kept sauntering towards me, slowly and surely, his growls and moans getting louder the closer he got to me. Everytime he stepped forward, I stepped back. I needed to obey his words, but I couldn't. I can’t do it.

“Simon. Please.”

“Dahhhhh….”

I could feel my whole body start to shake as I realized Simon pinned me into a corner. The closer he got, the more my heart raced. This is it. This was it. I am going to die. But I’d rather die than kill the love of my life.

“Si..”

I sunk down, dropped the knife, and held my face as he got up as close as he humanely could.

“D-Don’t..p-please.”

I sobbed, holding myself.

“Doll..”

What? Did he just.. No he didn’t, it’s all in my head. I am dead now, I just haven’t felt the pain yet of his teeth sinking into my-

“Dolllllyyyyy…”

That time I heard it. That was real. Getting some kind of courage, I stopped hiding my face and looked up at him. Simon was leaning down, looking at me, but his face was different. The same clouded eyes were there, but it was as if he was marveling at me.

“Simon?”

“Dooolllllyyyyyy…”

Dolly. He was calling me Dolly. My nickname he had given me when we first started seeing each other. I never knew Simon Riley would be expected to give someone a nickname but he did. His voice was deep and guttural, but I could hear his accent peeking out.

“Simon, are you there?” I asked, standing up on my feet.

“Rrrrrr….preeetttyyyy Dolllllyyyyy.”

“Oh Si..” I leaned in, holding his cheeks.

He still had most of his gear on, except he had his balenciaga mask on instead of his skull mask. I wanted to take it off so bad to really see his beautiful face, but it scared me to do so. Even though he was consciously still there, there was no telling what he would do out of his control. Tears ran rapid down my face, knowing that this confirmed my worst fear, that he was trapped within his own mind.

“Dolllyyyyyyy..cryyyinnngggggg…” Simon growled out.

I quickly wiped away my tears to not worry him.

“No, no I am fine, Simon, I promise.” I reassured him.

*BANG*

“GET HIM!!”

“RAAHHHHHHHHH”

“NO DON’T-”

In two seconds flat, Price and them busted in, angered Simon, and subdued him. The growls that came from Simon were so animalistic, as if he was no longer Simon.

“He could’ve bit you!!” Soap shouted at me.

“No, he recognized me! He called me Dolly!” I swore as Price, Gaz, and Soap were struggling to keep Simon contained.

“This’ll do.” Price mumbled as he took out a serum that would knock his ass out.

Simon saw it and cried out in animalistic rage, but the three of them managed to keep him on the ground.

“Wait, wait, please!!” I screamed.

The three men turned to me, waiting for what I was going to do next, but kept their arms and body weight on top of Simon. I got on my knees and approached Simon, who was thrashing around and growling at the three of them.

“Si.” I call him, his cloudy eyes immediately locking with me.

“We need to travel to get a cure, but we are almost there. I promise you.” I croaked, feeling the same tears and sadness returning.

“Rr..rrr. Dolllyyyyy.”

“Yes, I am Dolly. Your Dolly, Simon.” I comforted him, holding his cheek and running my thumb over the free skin that was on his face.

The tears fell down my face, as Simon relaxed into my touch.

“Pretttyyyyy..Dolllllyyyyyy.”

Before I could even react, Price injected the serum into Simon, who didn’t even react and only kept his focus on me.

“Dolll…yyyyy.”

Simon’s cloudy eyes then shut and remained still. I could feel the three men look at me.

“Fuck..” Gaz mumbled as he, Soap, and Price got off of the almost lifeless Simon.

I had cried out all of the tears that were left in me.

“Sweetie..” Price approached me.

I raised my head up and looked at him, in which he had a very genuine smile on his face.

“We gotta pack up now so we can head up ‘Orth and save your hubby.” Price told me.

I chuckled hearing him call Simon my hubby, despite us not being married.

“Yes, Captain.” I said, getting my composure together.

Price grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet. I stared at the still Simon, who was breathing normally as if he was not what he was right now. But the thought of it being so close to him being back to normal, makes me so happy. We are nearly there, Simon, we are nearly there.

“Alright, let’s load up gang.”

END

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod #callofduty #call of duty #cod x reader #cod ghost #cod modern warfare #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader

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number1abbasupporter · 1 year ago

Text

Monsters

@wolfstarmicrofic| Word count: 428

Regulus slammed the door behind them while Sirius tried to catch his breath. Zombies had been chasing them for minutes straight and they barely found a house in time.

It had been days since they had time to rest so Sirius almost jumped with joy when he saw a bed in the middle of the room.

He wasted no time in striding forward.

“Sirius-“

Suddenly Sirius felt cold metal pressed against his temple, making him freeze in place. He was so tired that he forgot to check the surroundings.

Now he had a gun to his head.

“Have you been bitten?” a husky voice asked.

He really wished he could see Regulus right then.

“No. Now,” Sirius shot his hand up and gripped the man’s wrist hard, wrenching it down and holding it between them, “Gun down please.”

The man was the definition of gorgeous. He was covered in dirt and had scars littering his face. His hair was wild and unruly. The last person he had laid his eyes on who wasn't his brother was his best friend who was back at their safe house. This was a sight for sore eyes.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder at Regulus, “Block off the door, will you? We’re gonna stay here for a little.”

Regulus nodded stiffly and went to do just that. He didn’t miss the smile twitching on the boy's lips as he did.

With ease, Sirius slipped the gun out of his hands and put it in his pocket. It would definitely come in handy.

“What’s your name?” he asked casually.

The man watched him warily, stance cautious as Sirius traipsed over to the bed.

“Remus.”

“Mm. You have a group?”

“Nope.”

Sirius smiled slightly at that. It wouldn’t hurt to have a painstakingly beautiful boy added to their group.

“I’m Sirius and that’s my little brother Regulus,” Sirius pointed over to Regulus who was just finishing up blocking the door. “We have a pretty big group and wouldn’t mind another person.”

Regulus snorted; “You’re only saying that cause you want to get in his pants.”

The boy snickered as Sirius shot him a glare.

“Either way, we could use another.”

The man took a minute to appraise Sirius while he was sitting on the bed. Having the man’s eyes solely on him sent a shiver up his spine. He really hoped he said yes.

With one last up-and-down look, the man licked his lips and ruffled his hair.

“Alright. I’ll join you.”

Sirius beamed at him. Things were definitely going to be more interesting now.

#this prob rlly isnt what the theme meant #but zombies r monsters so we're rolling with it #marauders era #marauders #hp marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #wolfstar microfic

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alittleharpy · 1 year ago

Text

Infected - Zombie!Ghost

A Ghost x Y/N Oneshot (fem Reader)

Part Two

MDNI | 18+ ONLY

TW: Gore, zombification, dumbification, blood, sex, desperation

“Simon?”

Your voice cracked.

Seeing the friend you’d just watched die standing in front of you with blood dripping from his fingers made every hair on your body stand on end.

His eyes stayed on you, but he didn’t move. Like he was analyzing you.

His dog tags were still in your palm with the chain wrapped tightly around your fingers. It clinked softly as you trembled.

The sound that left his throat was animalistic, raspy, but he somehow formed words. Like his vocal chords were re-learning how to make the sounds, “You… okay?”

You let out a sharp, deep exhale, “Yeah.” You said softly, “You?”

He let out a sound like a chuckle, even though it sounded wet, “Not sure.”

Boots sounded on the floor again. More hostiles? Your head snapped in the direction, so did Ghost’s.

When you saw Price’s gun raised, heard Ghost’s snarl, you jumped up, putting yourself between them.

Price’s face was contorted in confusion, seeing Ghost standing behind you even though you’d deemed him KIA. Ghost’s chest pressed up against your back, his ragged breathing near your ear. Almost like he was trying to be protective of you.

“What the fuck is going on?” Price asked.

“I…don’t know.” You admitted, “Ghost was… he was gone. I checked. But now… I don’t know. Now he’s not.” You swallowed, “We need to get him out of here. He took penetrating rounds to the chest.”

Price looked around at the carnage in the hallway, then at the blood on Ghost’s hands, “Did he do all this? With multiple GSW’s?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Ghost did first, “Yes.” He strained. His voice sounded better with each word, more like himself.

Price just stared for a moment before he motioned for you to follow. Ghost stayed right behind you, nearly stepping on your boots with his own as you walked.

“Ghost, status update.” Price spoke over comms to Laswell, voice tense with disbelief, “Alive.”

You sat next to Ghost in the heli, watching as a medic pulled up his shirt to reveal the wounds in his chest. They were open, raw, but where red blood should’ve been pouring out, there were congealed, inky masses oozing from the wounds.

The medic pulled her hands back, just staring in shock. His eyes locked on her backing away. He chuckled again, “What’s wrong…love?” You looked up from his chest to see that he was addressing you.

You winced as the medic turned her attention to you, wrapping up your arm. The blood had soaked down your arm, drying to your skin. You could almost see a flicker in Ghost’s eyes as he noticed it, something that looked a lot like hunger.

“What’s wrong?” You scoffed, “You died on me. You were dead.” You sucked air through clenched teeth when she pulled the knot tight.

His gaze locked onto you, dull, but brimming with an intensity that mingled somewhere between the living man you knew and the undead soldier he had become. A grunt was all he could muster, laying back on the seat. You could almost see the effort it took for him to tear his eyes away from your injury.

"Dead?" Ghost's husky voice was laced with a sarcastic edge, almost as if he found the idea amusing, but the new cadence of his speech betrayed the strangeness of his new existence. "Nah, love. Just took… a nasty nap, didn’t I?"

You noticed the tension in his body right away, “You okay?” You had no idea what was going on. You didn’t even know if he was still Simon anymore.

"No. You're hurt," he said, eyes narrowing as he observed the medic finishing off the bandage. The medic finished with your arm and quickly scurried away, not daring another glance at Ghost’s unsettling wounds. The inky substance oozed slower now, his wounds almost appearing to self-staunch. He pulled his shirt down, putting a barrier between everyone’s eyes and his body.

His head tilted slightly towards the smell of your blood, a guttural noise vibrating in his throat – something primal and hungry. But he managed to pull his gaze back to your eyes with a clear effort, his expression softening, a hint of the familiar kindness peeking through. "Bit peckish, but I'll manage. 'Sides, I've got better things to focus on... like making sure you're alright."

You could tell he was struggling, every muscle in his body tensed to restrain his baser needs. It was a battle of wills within him, the soldier's discipline fighting against the chemical that had brought him back from death's grip.

The monster yearned for the taste and warmth of living flesh, but the man—the man cared for you, and that was clear even through his nearly animalistic behavior.

"Simon," you said, using his real name to try and reach whatever part of him was still human. "You’re acting weird, even for a... well, you know." You gestured vaguely to his body, the wounds, and the way he was now not quite living, yet not entirely gone.

He let out a low chuckle that seemed to rattle in his undead chest. "Weird? Might be the new normal, this." He shuffled closer, a careful movement to not startle you, his cold hand tentatively reaching towards your face.

His touch was gentle as he brushed a loose bit of hair behind your ear. The movement was a bit disjointed, but he had the right idea. “Don’t worry 'bout me, yeah? I've always been a tough bastard. Takes more than a few bullets and a touch of death to keep me down.”

Soap cleared his throat across the heli, Gaz and Price keeping their eyes on him. Simon’s eyes snapped toward them like they had in the hall, almost feral and calculating. The tension was immediate in his jaw, teeth clenching as a growl bubbled up in his throat.

Every cell in your body screamed danger.

And so did the others, whose grips immediately tensed on their weapons. Your instinct was to quickly put your hand on his cheek, coaxing him to look back at you. “Hey. They’re your friends, remember?”

The moment your warm hand made contact with his cold, pallid skin, Ghost's eyes softened, the aggressive glint fading as quickly as it had appeared.

"Yeah, I know," he growled softly, "Just...feeling a bit riled up is all." His face pressed heavier in your hand, and you could tell he was trying to focus on the sensation, to ground himself in something other than the chaotic urges that the chemical stirred within him.

Ghost turned his attention back to Soap, Gaz, and Price, a semblance of recognition in his gaze as he nodded slowly. "Brothers in arms," he mumbled, the words trailing off as if he was reminding himself of who they were and the bond they shared.

Price gave a stern nod, his eyes never leaving Ghost. "That's right. You're with your mates, Simon," he said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority that came with his rank. "We're going to figure this out."

Gaz shifted uncomfortably, exchanging a glance with Soap, who let out a long breath. “Never a dull moment with this lot, eh?” Soap quipped, trying to inject some humor into the tense atmosphere, but his eyes were wary.

Ghost's grip on reality seemed tenuous, each moment an effort to keep the hunger and aggression at bay. But the connection between you two was clear, a lifeline for him in the swirling maelstrom of his altered state.

You could sense his dependency on you growing, the trust in his gaze unmistakable. It was as if you were now the anchor in the storm he was weathering, and for now, at least, he seemed content to let you guide him through the turbulence.

As the heli rumbled through the air, you could see the way his body shifted closer to yours, an unconscious pull towards your warmth and life force. Your willingness to bring him back from the brink seemed to offer him a small relief amidst the chaos of his undead cravings—a human connection in a situation that was anything but.

“Laswell’s gonna have a metric fuck load of paperwork to fill out over this.” Gaz adjusted his rifle strap, “You sure you’re feeling’ alright, mate?” He asked Ghost, “I reckon you’ve always been a bit pale, but you look like a sheet of paper.”

You looked down at Ghost’s forearms, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Gaz was right. You could see the blue of his veins through the paleness of his skin.

“Listen, this is a bit new for all of us. Let’s just take the questions slow. I doubt Ghost knows any more than we do.” You tugged Ghost’s sleeves down, worried he might be cold in the heli, but could he really feel how cold his own skin was?

Ghost's eyes followed your hands as you adjusted his sleeves, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Cheers," he grunted, his tone a mix of gratitude and his usual sardonic wit. "Don't want to scare the living daylights out of everyone with my new goth look, do I?"

Gaz chuckled at the comment, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see the day when Ghost became an actual ghost."

There was a momentary lapse into silence as everyone processed the situation, the humor serving as a brief—albeit very brief—relief from the tension.

Ghost shifted slightly, leaning into your touch as if searching for warmth or perhaps the reassurance that you were actually there with him. "I can't really feel the cold," he admitted with a raspy voice that seemed to scratch at the inside of his throat. "Not like I used to, at least. But don't worry about me, I'm more concerned with keepin' you lot safe from whatever this is," he gestured loosely to himself.

Price's voice cut through the chatter, steady and resolute. "We'll get to the bottom of this, sort you out. For now, let's focus on getting back to base safely and keeping Ghost contained—just in case."

Your hand remained on Ghost’s arm, the contrast between your living warmth and his deathly cold stark and unnerving. Yet, the instinct in you refused to pull away, as if your touch could somehow keep the man within him from slipping away entirely.

#call of duty smut #call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #zombie ghost #simon riley #Spotify

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deathtothesoul · 3 months ago

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Death to the Soul: Chapter 3

Lucas sat on his messy bed. He focused on his laptop, going through the pictures he took that day. He glanced at the clock. 9 PM. He groaned and set the computer down and dialed the number Quinn had given him.

“Hello?” a husky voice said.

Lucas paused. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman speaking.

“Hey. This is Lucas. I’m Quinn’s friend. I’m going to be dropping off a corpse tonight.”

“Great! You can come over when you’re ready!”

He slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, grabbed the cooler and went to his underground garage that led out into a wide alley. He tossed the bag in the back of his white pickup truck, muttering to himself.

***

When he pulled up to the funeral home, the garage door opened. He groaned and backed in. As he got out, a tall woman came skipping up to him with frosty white skin and lavender hair, wearing a blue dress.

“Hi!” she said warmly. “You must be Lucas! I’m Natalie!”

He arched an eyebrow suspiciously. He wasn’t expecting such a friendly welcome. He took a small step back to get a better look. She was a head taller than him with a thin frame and nice boobs.

She tilted his chin to look at her, giving him a knowing smile. “Eyes up here,” she said.

“Sorry,” he said, with a sheepish grin.

“You’re not very good at being subtle, are you?” she asked.

“I’ve never had to be,” he said bluntly.

“Why is that?” she asked.

“It’s how I get humans to come to my place. I flirt with them, sleep with them and drain them.”

“You force yourself on them?” she snapped.

Lucas laughed and leaned against the car. “I have never had to force myself on anyone. I know how to get someone into bed without even touching them. I like giving them a good time before they die.”

She eyed him carefully. “Interesting.”

“What can I say? I’m just that awesome!”

She giggled. “Quinn has told me a lot about you. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while.”

“What has he told you?” Lucas asked, nervously.

“That you really like taking pictures,” she said, gesturing to his camera.

“I do!” he said, lifting the camera. “Smile, sweetheart.” Natalie posed with her hands on her hips and a winning smile. Lucas snapped the picture and took a moment to admire it. “Woah…” he muttered. “Pretty.”

She turned to open the trunk and lift the body, but Lucas stepped in front of her and grabbed the bag and the cooler.

“Let me help,” he said, smiling at her. “Where do you want these?” he asked.

“The crematory,” she said.

He followed her into a well-lit room with white tiles on the wall and two large metal tables, with tubes neatly wrapped under them. He set them down and looked around.

“This would make one hell of a photo shoot,” he commented.

Natalie hopped on one of the tables and leaned back on her hands, with her knees bent.

“Damn!” he said, snapping a picture. “You’re really a zombie? You look so…”

“Not dead?” she asked, flipping her hair. Lucas quickly got another picture. “Well, having 24/7 access to the highest quality embalming supplies helps with that,” she said. “Arsenic does wonders for my complexion.”

“Wow…”

“Let’s get back to business,” Natalie said, hopping down. She patted the table, and Lucas dumped the body onto it. Natalie took a silver meat cleaver out of a drawer.

“What’s that for?” Lucas asked, snapping a few more pictures.

“Cutting it apart,” she said as if it should be obvious. “It burns better that way.”

“Oh! Can I help?”

“Sure,” she said, holding out the meat cleaver to him.

“I would prefer to use my axe,” he said, taking an axe from his bag.

He gently pushed her out of the way. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m dead,” she laughed, leaning against a counter.

“Yet, still very breakable,” he said. In one swift motion he sliced through the girl’s midsection.

“Wow!” she said, examining his work. “That’s a very clean cut! It usually takes me a couple of swings.”

“Well, I’ve done it many times before,” he said, with a smug smile as he put his axe back in his bag. “I used to be a woodsman.”

“Very nice,” Natalie said, nodding with approval.

Lucas tried to think of something else to say but he felt drained. The anxiety of being in Travis’s house encroached on his mind.

They stood in awkward silence. Heavy footsteps could be heard from outside, getting closer. Lucas froze as his whole body tensed. He gripped the strap of his black bag that ran across his chest. He reached around and quickly felt the blade of his axe through the fabric. He sighed, feeling a little safer. A tall, muscular man with blond hair, neatly combed to the side came in. A musty wet dog stench wafted into the room.

“Travis,” Lucas muttered under his breath.

“Lucas? What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Lucas glared at him. He took a shaky breath as he kept the string of expletives at bay, gripping his bag. “I should be going,” he said, quickly.

“You’re still mad about it?” Travis sneered.

He stiffly approached Travis, who was significantly taller. “I will never be over it! You used me as a hostage to get to Quinn! I thought I was going to die! And for what? A petty war where werewolves wanted to enslave humans? So, you could be the alphas and have us at your mercy too?”

Lucas paused, and Travis stayed silent, keeping his steely gaze on him.

“You are so lucky Quinn decided to let you live. If it were up to me, you would all be in a tiny cage eating dog food!” Lucas fired.

Travis clenched his jaw. “You know it wasn’t personal.”

“It was! You don’t even need human blood or brains to live! You didn’t want to just control humans, you wanted to control vampires, vayers and zombies! You wanted to take control of our food source! That is nothing but personal, you fleabag!” Lucas seethed.

“We wanted to bring peace,” Travis said, indigently.

Lucas laughed. “Okay, you keep telling yourself that,” he snorted sarcastically as he rolled his eyes. “The only reason there’s peace now is because of Quinn and that blood oath!”

Travis clenched the hand that had an x burned into it.

“Last time I checked, starting a stupid war does the opposite of bring peace,” Lucas continued.

“I didn’t start the war!”

“You didn’t end it though,” Natalie interjected.

Lucas gave her a surprised smile.

“Stay out of this Natalie!” Travis snarled. He turned his attention back to Lucas. “I don’t need to explain myself to some mosquito!”

A strong bolt of fury shot through Lucas as he drew his axe. “What did you just call me!” he snarled, hands shaking.

“Travis!” Natalie snapped.

Seeing he had clearly gone too far Travis quickly tried to apologize. “I’m sorry. I lost many close friends to that war. It’s hard to talk about.”

“Don’t care!” Lucas said, flipping him the bird as he pushed past him.

Natalie followed him out. “Wait!” she said as he unlocked his truck.

“What?” he snapped. He took a calming breath, pushing his anger aside.

“I’m sorry,” Natalie stammered.

“It’s not your fault. I stayed longer than I should have,” Lucas said evenly. “I can’t be in the same room as that mutt.”

“Clearly,” she replied. “I’m so sorry about his behavior! He shouldn’t have called you…well you know…the M-word.”

“Thanks,” he muttered as he turned to get in but paused. “Why did you side with me back there?” he asked.

“I never supported Travis taking over as the only alpha. It sent him spiraling into a very dark place. It took a huge toll on all of us. Especially Kevin.”

“Who?”

“Travis’s husband and my brother. Kevin supported Travis to a fault, even when it started to hurt us. Travis was in charge of bringing us food because we couldn’t have the funeral home open with everything going on. He started neglecting that. He promised we would never be in need again once he brought humans under his control. But I could see that wasn’t going to happen.”

Lucas leaned against the truck. “Why do you stay with them?” he asked.

“Because I want to make sure he takes care of Kevin. Kevin trusts him way too much in my opinion.”

“I see. Did you know about his plan to go after me?”

She nodded. “I thought it was stupid. When Quinn finally ended it all I was so relieved.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She paused. “Lucas, I'm so sorry for what Travis did to you.”

He smiled sadly. “That means a lot. Thank you.” He glanced at his watch. “I should go.”

“Can I see you again?” she asked quickly.

He paused. “Probably,” he said, climbing in and closing the door.

#books #fantasy #fiction #novel #books and reading #romance books #vampire books #vampire #vampires #vampirism #romance #vampire romance #dark romance #darkness #zombie #trans #trans character

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bubble7o7 · 2 years ago

Text

Mature content

Over 18’s Only

Min Yoongi x Reader

Hard…

“Baby?…Babe?” you hear that gorgeous deep voice call out to you.

“Come to bed?… please?” He holds out his hand to you.

“I just want to catch the end of this. Go back to bed I won’t be long”

He never has to ask you twice on any other occasion but when you’ve waited all week for the next episode of your favourite drama and need to wind down from work… this is your spot and you’re not budging for anyone. Not even your handsome, sleepy, husky voiced, bed haired love.

“Come to bed” he pouts “Can’t you watch it tomorrow?”

“I won’t have time tomorrow, just go to bed I won’t be long baby, I promise.”

“No…” he huffs. He stumbles through the hallway clambering over the sofa, he flops down by your side. He lifts your arm and tucks himself under you while wrapping his arm and leg over you…

“I can’t sleep, I keep waking up to cuddle into you but you’re not there” he mumbles into your boob and squeezing you tighter.

“Ok, Ok… shhhh” you cuddle him into you, gently stroking your fingers through his hair which usually helps him relax. You make the mistake of watching him dose back off, you take in a deep breath at the beauty of him.

“God you’re too cute you know… it would be so funny if people saw this side of you…”

“What do you mean?” He mumbles.

“That hard exterior people think you have but you’re just my soft, clingy boy” you gently squeeze him into you again.

“Yah!” He jumps up, yanks you by your hips and pulls you down so you’re now flat on the sofa underneath him and he straddles over you.

“I’m Soft… “ he kisses you hard.

“I’m Clingy!” He moans as he nibbles down your neck.

“Boy!?” He kisses you again, while his hand slowly wanders from your boob, to your hips then he grabs a firm hold of your arse and presses himself closer to you.

“I’ll have you know I’m hard…” he grinds himself slowly against you. You let out a little moan.

“Tough” he kisses you passionately “and a man” he grins.

“Baby I know… I can feel it” you smile as you lean in and kiss his neck, while grabbing a firm hold of his arse with both hands.

“Wait… what are you watching?” a sound from the TV catches his attention.

“Erm… All of us are dead… why?”

He quickly jumps up from the sofa “Yeah… nope!. I’ll let you catch up and come to bed when you’re ready! Goodnight, I love you…” he pecks at your lips then rushes down the hallway back to bed.

“What the fuck!” You laugh. “Wait! Where’s my hard, tough man gone?!”

“To bed! and you should follow him!” He yells.

You can’t help but smile to yourself at the fact you have to watch horror films on your own because your boyfriend point blank refuses to!

You finish the last 15 minutes and tip toe into your room, it’s pitch black. “Yoongs… are you awake?” you whisper.

“Babe… I can’t see a thing… Ooff!” You stumble near the bed. Total silence.

“Baby?… are you taking the piss?”

You lean down to turn your bedside light on.

Just then there’s an almighty bang and the door flings open from the en suite and Yoongi’s rushing towards you.

“FuckShit!… you fucking dick!” You scream as he grabs hold of you and flings you on the bed. “My heart is pounding you fucking dick!” You cry out.

“Let me feel?” He laughs.

“That’s not my heart!” He has his hand clamped on to your boob, smiling at you before kissing you softly on either cheek then pecking at your pouting lips.

“You scared the crap out of me…”

“I’m sorry my love”

“You’re awfully cocky, scaring me like that for someone who wont even watch a Zombie Tv show… my hard, tough man” you smile.

“Mhuh” he mumbles as he leans in and kisses you hard and slow, he grips either side of your pj bottoms and pulls them off, tossing them to one side.

He gently grinds himself against you and whispers “Let me show you how hard I am”.

“Oh fuck…” you moan.

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voxofthevoid · 11 months ago

Text

I present thee with Role Reversal Fem!Goyuu Wednesday #4.

I'm currently 37k into this and working on Chapter 6. The final chapter count is still projected to be 8, and if I don't end up splitting the next chapter, this will remain the case. This will be a novel-length fic all the same. I need to write a couple of oneshots after this just for the hell of writing something short.

Click forth to see Satoru finally getting to put her mouth and other assorted body parts on her teacher 🦵

Yuuji’s naked.

She’s lying on her bed, arms folded under her head and over her stomach, legs drawn up and spread wide, and she’s naked, everywhere.

“Satoru-chan,” she says, with a lazy tilt of her head toward Satoru, “I was starting to think you’d never come out.”

“H-ah,” Satoru says intelligently.

Yuuji’s amused expression shifts into concern. “You alright?”

“You’re naked,” Satoru chokes out.

Understanding dawns on Yuuji’s face. “Ah. Yes. I am. Are you shy again?”

Shy? Satoru’s about to combust.

She stumbles forward like a zombie—a very thirsty zombie. Yuuji watches her with a slowly growing smile, its bigger mirror image cutting across her stomach, and the flash of teeth on both sets of mouths is too sharp to not be concerning, but that only pulls Satoru in even harder, till she’s climbing onto the bed like a woman possessed.

A foot stops her before she can touch Yuuji, pressing against her chest. The toes settle snugly between her tits.

Satoru looks down at them, blinking.

They wriggle.

“Where are you going?” Yuuji asks lightly.

“You?”

The foot curves, black nails turning into gleaming claws turning into threatening pricks on Satoru’s skin. She freezes, smothering the instinctive urge to use Limitless. Yuuji hasn’t broken skin, yet. She could, easily.

Satoru’s more focused on how big it feels between her tits.

“You should know by now to ask permission first.”

“Please,” Satoru gasps immediately, the easiest she’s ever begged. “Please, sensei, let me—”

Yuuji looks surprised. And she doesn’t take her foot away, but there’s a huskiness to her voice when she speaks: “What do you want, Satoru-chan?”

Everything.

Fuck, she wants everything.

Yuuji looks—

Yuuji is—

Satoru can see her cunt.

“Mouth,” Satoru gasps, half the words still stuck somewhere in her windpipe, and then they stumble out, quick and clumsy— “You, my mouth, Yuuji—”

Yuuji makes a low noise, too hungry to be teasing. She’s still smiling, still fond, but there’s something about it that bites into Satoru, everywhere

“So cute,” Yuuji says. “But I shouldn’t.”

“Sensei—”

“Ssh,” Yuuji chides. “I’m not done. I shouldn’t—I’m meant to punish you, not reward you.”

“You can punish me after,” Satoru says immediately. “I swear, Yuuji, you can do anything, I’ll let you, just please—”

“Let me,” Yuuji echoes. Her foot slides up, claws very gently scraping Satoru’s skin to rest against the hollow of her throat. “You’re my best and worst student, Satoru-chan, and this is why.”

Satoru swallows a noise, part frustration and part sheer fucking need.

She knows what Yuuji means, and it’s burning her, the implication that Yuuji would just do what she wants no matter what Satoru says—the knowledge that she can, that night at the school and every touched since provoked testament to how thoroughly this woman can overpower Satoru. And Satoru hasn’t really fought, not yet, not in the ways that matter, but if she did and Yuuji took her anyway—

It’s some skewed sense of self-defense that has Satoru reaching down and grabbing her own tits, squeezing them around Yuuji’s foot.

Yuuji makes a startled noise, something in the shape of Satoru’s name.

And this isn’t really something ever thought she’d do, even with her fantasies covering nearly every damn inch of Yuuji, but now, with the shape of Yuuji’s foot burning against her ribs and cushioned between her breasts, Satoru finds herself breathless and warm and very, very into it.

She leans forward, pushing her tits even closer together with Yuuji’s foot still between them. The robe slips off her left shoulder.

The look on Yuuji’s face tells her everything about what she looks like right now.

“Sensei,” Satoru breathes, squeezing her tits around the foot and rubbing against it a little, “let me, please.”

Yuuji swallows audibly and tips her head back, but her eyes stay on Satoru, heated brown and red peering at her through narrow slits.

“Spoiled,” Yuuji declares, with a laugh that doesn’t sound all that amused. “Alright then. Use your pretty mouth, Satoru-chan.”

Satoru surges forward, abandoning Yuuji’s foot in a frenzy that has those sharpened nails raking against her breast and clavicle, and Yuuji apologizes, of course she does, but it’s barely out before Satoru’s swallowing it from her mouth, collapsing on Yuuji to press their bodies together from lips to hips, and Yuuji welcomes her kindly despite the way she was acting, a pair of hands cupping Satoru’s face while the other pair skim down her sides to rest on her hips, the pressure light but sinking into Satoru even through the robe. Her mouth opens hotly, and when Satoru licks inside, she tastes spearing mint—a far cry from Yuuji’s mouth tasted the last and only time they kissed, ripe with the heat of Satoru’s own cunt.

But it doesn’t really hide the taste underneath—warm flesh, through and through.

Satoru winds her arms around Yuuji’s neck, pressing closer and licking in deeper, and Yuuji makes an unidentifiable noise against her lips but resists nothing, and her parted lips and lazy tongue feels more indulgent than anything, but Satoru’s used by now to that specific flavor of this woman’s affection, and she takes it, greedy and needy, until her own mouth doesn’t taste like dinner or toothpaste but like Yuuji, a heat turned sweet.

She’s panting when she pulls back. A few strands of Yuuji’s hair cling to her for a moment before falling limply away to rest across Yuuji’s face.

They’re damp, just like the thick mane crushed against Satoru’s arms.

Satoru pouts. “You could’ve joined me.”

“I considered it,” Yuuji says frankly. “Figured it’d be counterproductive. But here we are anyway, hm?”

“Yeah,” Satoru says, getting her knees under her so she has better leverage to touch Yuuji—and god, there’s so much to touch. “So just join me next time. You can spank me over the damn toilet if that’s what you’re into.”

Yuuji barks a laugh. “Is that what you think I’ll do?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Satoru says absently, feeling up Yuuji’s thighs; they’re like rock. Her abs aren’t any less insane, even with the thin layer of soft fat covering them—a little pressure, and Satoru’s palms meet solid resistance. The lips of her belly mouth are soft, and they curve up against Satoru’s fingers when she touches them. “Eat me alive if you want.”

Yuuji’s whole chest rumbles with a noise that’s suspiciously like a purr. “Careful, Satoru-chan. I might take you up on that.”

“So?” Satoru arches a brow at her. “Do it. I ain’t a coward.”

Yuuji tilts her head, her smile growing crooked; her second mouth echoes it under Satoru’s palms. “One day. But weren’t you whining for something else right now?”

“I didn’t whine—mmph!”

Yuuji presses Satoru more firmly into her chest—into the pebbled swell of a breast, the nipple flush with Satoru’s mouth. Satoru moans, opening up to suck it inside, and Yuuji reacts with a soft sigh, her fist gentling in Satoru’s hair to pat her once and then just rest there, and Satoru wouldn’t have minded the guidance, but she sure as hell isn’t complaining about this, not when her whole body’s burning with the slightly delayed realization that her mouth is on Yuuji’s tits.

Satoru gropes blindly until her hand finds Yuuji’s other breast, her fingers sinking into the flesh there while she sucks on the one in her mouth, and it tastes like skin with a faint aftertaste of soap, but every breath Satoru remembers to inhale is thick with an intoxicating blend of blood and rot—something sweet about it, defying all logic the way Yuuji has from the start.

Satoru whines around her mouthful, desperate for things she can’t name.

Yuuji only strokes her hair, all the way from the crown of her head to where the tips of her hair brush her mid-back. The rest of her hands are also gentle and undemanding on Satoru, stroking and skimming over skin without even really groping.

It’s almost confusing.

Satoru pries her mouth off Yuuji’s nipple to bury her face in the cleavage, gripping Yuuji’s tits with both hands to push them against Satoru’s own face, and this, she knows, the warmth and the heat and the suffocating blend of sweat and worse, and she tries to make it good for Yuuji too, squeezing her tits and thumbing her nipples, half instinct and half the memory of how Yuuji touched Satoru, and she doesn’t really think it’s doing much for Yuuji, not with how sedately her chest rises and falls under Satoru, but her hand has curved against the back of Satoru’s head now, holding her there with tender pressure, and how the hell is Satoru meant to resist that?

She loses track of how long she stays like that, but when she rears back, heaving for air freer and fuller than the thin little pockets she dragged in with her face in Yuuji’s chest, Yuuji’s scent stays in her nose and her throat, flavoring the air she inhales like it’s sunk into the lining of her flesh.

“You smell like blood,” Satoru tells her, a questioning confession she’s been holding back for ages, “and rot.”

Yuuji tilts her head. “Does it bother you?”

“Are you kidding me? It makes me—” Satoru shuts her mouth in the nick of time, but the wetness between her legs grows a little like it wants Yuuji to know. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I’m just curious.”

Yuuji looks pretty curious herself, and Satoru knows damn well what about. But she doesn’t push, instead saying, “The state of the soul shows in the body. That’s all.”

“That…explains nothing,” Satoru says, unimpressed. “What, is your soul bleeding? And rotting?”

“Who knows.”

“Sensei. If you don’t wanna answer, just say that.”

“As if that’ll stop you.” Yuuji chuckles to herself, and she seems unbothered by everything from Satoru’s questions to her own ominous answers, but every single one of her hands is restless on Satoru, stroking bare skin and thick cotton, a few fingers even playing with her hair. “It’s not just my soul in here, Satoru-chan.”

“But you ate her.”

“I did,” Yuuji confirms, and there’s something vicious about her smile, even though it’s so small and toothless. “But souls are stronger than you think—and hard to digest. Sukuna’s not the kind to be easy, even in death. What’s left of her is festering. That kind of decay leaves a mark. There is no longer a boundary between where I begin and her corpse ends. So tell me again—does it bother you?”

#goyuu #fem goyuu #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #wip wednesday #jjk snippets #my fic #divider credit: saradika-graphics #fic: the brute fact of flesh

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rageagainstmymachine · 2 years ago

Text

Kinktober 2023 | Edward Richtofen/ F! Reader | Fic 6

Uniform Kink

Words: 3,362

Tags: Ultimis Richtofen, perceived Nazism, Nazi uniform, unwanted uniform kink

"This has got to be the worst place we've been." You groan, letting your head roll to the other shoulder, a heavy sigh showing your great displeasure. You were in some swampy marsh somewhere in japan, you think. It was a lot like the one you went to early on in your travels, the one right after than German insane asylum.

"You say that every time we go somewhere new." Richtofen hummed, his hands busy fiddling with some strange contraption. He happily whistled some tune, obviously not the least bit concerned with your unhappiness.

"Because every time we go somewhere new its worse than the last."

"What about the moon? The moon was fun! It was the moon!"

"I hated the moon. There was no air and that fucking weird cosmonaut was chasing us."

"That what made it fun! Well, that und how the blood und guts splattered farther with the gravity und such." He waved his hand dismissively.

You groaned again, your head rolling back over. You just watched as Edward fiddled with whatever he was fucking with, examining his features. His face was pale, almost grey and had dark circles around his eyes. You were all very tired, but Edward always seemed the most tired, despite being the most energetic. You had no idea how he did it, you wondered if he was on some sort of drug. Pervatin, maybe. That could explain a lot.

"You know, a picture would last longer. Just be sure to get mein good side, ja? What am I saying? Every side is mein good side."

You felt your face heat up at the realization you had been caught staring and averted your eyes. "Spaced out."

"Awh, and here I was thinking you were admiring my handsome face und perfect body."

You couldn't deny he was handsome. Hell, he was gorgeous. He was tall and slim, but he had muscle, even at his age. How old was he anyways? Fifty? He looked fifty. Not to mention that his uniform hugged him in all the right places, his broad shoulders and small waist...

Stop it! That uniform is monstrous! It represents everything that's wrong with the world! It represented fascism! It's ugly and you should hate it! You shouldn't be fantasizing about the way the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders or how perfectly his belt hugged his slim waist...

"I can practically see you thinking. Think any harder und you might explode." He teased, standing and approaching you. You couldn't help but watch his hips sway as he approached, or the way his long legs strode towards you. "I wonder what you could be thinking of to cause such a reaction..."

He stopped directly in front of you, smirking down at you. It was unnerving when he did this. You stood up, a subconscious reaction as nervousness began to creep up your spine.

"It must be quite exciting." He hummed, getting impossibly closer. You had to crane your neck to look up at him. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

He is coming on to you. Not that you're surprised. He has been suggestive to you in the past. Well, suggestive to everyone actually. Even a few zombies. Inanimate objects too... he was a weird man.

You hated the fact his seduction attempt was working. You could feel yourself becoming flustered. His uniform was so close. If you reached out, you could touch it. You wanted to touch it. To touch him.

You were ashamed of yourself.

He chuckled softly, leaning over and pressing a hand against the wall next to you, his body only inches away. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, as well as his breathing. "Oh, I think I know." He said lowly, his accent heavy, tone husky. "You want to fuck the enemy, don't you?"

Your breath hitched and you felt a shiver run down your spine. His eyes were lidded, a smirk tugging at his thin lips.

"You want to devour the big, bad German. And I do mean big in... multiple ways." He whispered the last part in your ear, making you let out a little gasp. Your hands found his lapels, torn between pushing him away and yanking him closer. When he didn't receive an answer, he clicked his tongue, bringing his hand up to grab a fistful of your hair. He tugged on it to force you to look at him. "Oh, you are much too prideful."

He crashed his lips into yours. You let out a muffled moan, kissing him back hungrily. This was a very bad idea. He was insane, this was his own twisted game, this was treason... But God, it was hot. It was right in all the wrong ways.

Richtofen kissed roughly, hungrily, desperately. It was messy, and you could taste the bitter iron of blood, you didn't care enough to ask yourself why. His teeth pulled and bit at your bottom lip, causing you to groan. The heat was building in your core, pooling low in your abdomen.

Your hands ran along the fabric of his coat, trailing across the embellishments on his lapels. You could barely even focus on the kiss as you touched the belts across his chest. Your movements froze when you touched something cold and sharp. Fingertips danced from one point to another, your eyes fluttering open and downwards as you realized you were touching his iron cross.

Your mind wandered to what he did to receive that metal. Did he fight in the Great War? It would make sense with his age. You couldn't be sure but you don't think you see a swastika on it, it had to be a Great War iron cross. Was he this insane back then as well? Why were you just now thinking about it?

He sensed your distraction and pulled away, fast enough to see where your eye line was. He peered down and grinned, finally noticing your hand on his medal. "You must be wondering how I got this, huh? Imagining all the ways one soldier can receive one." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower.

You couldn't help the fear appearing in your eyes as his tone became serious. It was terrifying when he was serious. He searched your face for a few seconds before his smirk returned, his tongue flicking out to lick his dry lips."Don't look so terrified, I was a field medic in the Great War"

"How the hell does a field medic get one?" You finally found your voice again, the confusion forcing your words out.

He laughed, a sound that sent shivers down your spine, whether it was in excitement or fear you didn't know. "Perhaps it's best to keep that a secret." He purred, leaning in close again, his lips ghosting over yours. "Just make sure those American hands of yours stay off the medal, ja? You can look all you want, though. It's more than obvious you have a thing for it…und the rest of mein uniform."

You swallowed thickly, looking away in shame. Damn.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of." Edward chuckled darkly. "In fact, I've heard before that women go nuts for a man in uni-"

"Just shut up and kiss me again, Richtofen." You groaned, grabbing his lapels and tugging him closer, crashing your lips together once more. He hummed into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips, squeezing them firmly. He unabashedly rutted his hips into yours, his growing bulge pressing against you.

He pulled away from you, leaving you wanting and needy. God, so stupidly needy. He put distance between the two of you, and you almost asked why, but soon he was smoothing down his uniform, giving you a playful twirl.

"Tell me, fraulein, what do you like about it?" He questioned. "The fabric is a bit rough und tight, the belts are always digging into me, but if you find it appealing, who am I to judge?"

"Richtofen..." You warned.

"Do tell, I'm curious." He mused. He had that grin, that stupid fucking grin that made your blood boil. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He was teasing you and loving every second of it. He was getting off on your frustration and embarrassment.

It's the way the coat sits well on your broad shoulders, tapers down to your slutty little waist! It makes you look taller too especially with the cap, it commands authority. It's because your pants make your ass look so damn good. And the boots look ready to step on me. And god, how I want you to step on me. That white button up and tie combo makes you look professional and sane, yet you aren’t professional and nowhere near close to sane. It’s the Luger attached to your hip, ready to be pulled out and used, the belts just begging to be gripped, and whatever the hell is on your other hip! Is it a bag? And dear god, it’s the iron cross you wear. I can’t even imagine what you’ve done to receive it, I just know I want you pressed against me so hard, it leaves an indent against my breast.

Your head spun as you admitted this all to yourself in rapid fire. If you didn’t run it through your mind, as much as you didn’t want to, you knew you would blurt it out. You had to get a hold of yourself.

Edward seemed to enjoy the silence, watching your face intently, waiting for you to give an answer. The only sign of his patience wearing thin was the tapping of his foot.

"You just look good in it, okay?" You tell him, giving him an inch. But he wasn't satisfied with that, he wanted the whole mile. You should know to never try to appease a German. Look what happened to Czechoslovakia.

He snickers, shaking his head. "Come now, Fraulein. You can do better than that." He purrs.

You huffed, chewing on your lip before glancing back to him, your resolve crumbling as you took in his gorgeous appearance."God, it's hot. Okay? It's super fucking hot."

His smirk widened, but he continued to prod.. "Why? Why is it so hot?"

"Because it shows off your broad shoulders and slim waist, and makes your ass look great… You're just a prick, but I want you inside me." You spat out, crossing your arms. "Happy now?"

"Ohohoho I'm very happy." He chuckled, removing the straps that crossed his torso. He set the satchel he carried aside, unclipping his holster and setting his weapon on the table. The way he didn't remove anything else signaled he had no intentions of removing his uniform tonight. He knew what he was doing. He still stood a ways from you, seemingly waiting for you to do or say something. You were too aroused to play these games. You relented to his wants.

"Are you going to fuck me or not, Richtofen?" You growled hoping to sound annoyed and not as needy as you felt.

"I might if you ask nicely." He cooed.

You clenched your fists.

"Please, Richtofen." You said, through gritted teeth. "Fuck me."

He grinned, stepping over to you. His hand caressed your cheek, before his fingers wrapped around your throat. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips, or the way your hips rolled. You could feel his length press into you and it was heavenly. He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. "Say that again, but this time, less formal."

"Edward, please fuck me." You whispered, and he let out a guttural growl. He released your throat and gripped the backs of your thighs, lifting you and pressing you into the wall. You let out a little yelp of surprise, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He captured your lips, his hands wandering, kneading your flesh; pinching and grabbing. his hands were just as eccentric as the rest of him.

He didn't waste time, carrying you away from the wall to the windowsill, setting you down to begin removing your pants. You kicked off your boots as you let him, watching as he tugged down the clothing. He took your panties with them, leaving you completely bare from the waist down. You felt the urge to cover yourself, but his hungry gaze and the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips quelled that. He was quick with his own pants, tugging them down his slim hips, freeing his cock. He wasn't here for romance, or foreplay, but neither were you.

He was quick to slot himself between your legs to line himself up, pressing his length into you in one smooth motion. You hissed at the stretch, his earlier remark about big things wasn't a lie.. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you moaned out his name. He wasn't gentle. He gave you no time to adjust. He began pounding into you immediately, a brutal pace, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise.

"I'm just a militarized Kraut for you to get off to, ja?" He hissed in your ear. His breath was warm, accent thicker than before, "Is that all I am to you? Just a uniform und a cock to satisfy that cunt of yours?"

"F-fuck, Richtofen."

"You think of me as a Nazi, yet here I am being your personal sex toy." He purred. His hips snapped against yours, his thrusts rough and quick, hitting that one spot. The one spot that made your back arch. He chuckled, his eyes half lidded and full of lust. "Where are you democratized morals now?"

"Fuck, I hate you."

"No, no, Fraulein. The word you are looking for is love." He grinned, his eyes dark. You felt a shiver run down your spine. He was scary, and yet somehow that excited you.

His thrusts were getting sloppy, his breath ragged. You were close, so close, you just needed a little more. He must have noticed, his hand reaching between the two of you to rub circles around your clit. The added stimulation sent you over the edge. Your back arched and you threw your head back as you came, a strangled moan of his name escaping your lips.

You could feel him shudder against you, a long groan escaping his lips as your walls squeezed around him tightly. He stilled inside of you, his grip on your hips bruising. He was quiet for a moment, and you opened your eyes to find his own staring into yours. They were lidded and full of want and need. He got too close to the edge, and he didn't want to cum just yet. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, and it wasn't long before he started moving again. He was relentless, his thrusts deep and rough, his fingers digging into your hips. "I'm not nearly done with you yet."

"Give me a moment." You breathed, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Oh, fraulein. You'll take what I give you und I'll continue until I am finished."

He fucked like a man starved, his thrusts hungry and greedy. You were still sensitive, and every thrust against your g spot was a wave of overstimulation. You whined and begged for his mercy, but he would give none.

"You'll cum again for me, und then I'll consider stopping."

You cried out, clinging to him desperately, trying to find anything to ground you, anything to take away the intensity. It was too much, yet not enough. "Edward..."

"If you don't shut your mouth, I'm going to shut it for you, Schlampe." He hissed.

You couldn't stop the whimpers if you wanted to. It was too much.

Richtofen growled, seemingly fed up with your noises. Your clit got a much needed break as he removed his hand to paw at his chest. He wrapped his glove clad fingers around his Iron Cross and quickly yanked it off, pressing the medal to your lips. "Bite."

You opened your mouth and his fingers pushed the Iron Cross in. The taste of the iron filled your mouth and you moaned. He resumed rubbing your clit, the feeling of biting down hard on the cross was enough to ground you - your whines were significantly decreased.

The way that Edward looked at you with a deeper stare made you wonder if he was getting off to watching you bite the medal he got all those years ago.

His thrusts continued to be hard and fast, but you could feel him becoming more and more erratic. The hand on your hip tightened, and his breath became heavier.

"You better cum before I do, otherwise you are in for a long night." He hissed, his thrusts slowing a bit. His hand picked up its speed on your clit, causing a moan to escape past the medal.

It was too much. The feeling of metal between your teeth, the way Edward was looking at you, the fact that he was wearing his uniform. The way he fucked you without mercy. It was all too much, and soon enough you were coming. Your body trembled, your eyes crossing as stars littered your vision. Your legs clamped around his waist as your cunt spasmed again, milking his cock.

He didn't last much longer, the feeling of your cunt squeezing him bringing him over the edge. A strangled moan escaped his lips as he spilled his seed into you, thrusts shallow and uneven. He stayed there, his breathing labored and his heart pounding as he continued to lazily pump his cock into you until he had nothing left to give.

The muscles in your jaw failed as your mouth quivered open, the Iron cross falling on your chest. It was coated in saliva and blood, which made Richtofen's cock twitch inside of you. He grabbed it, not bothering to wipe it off before pinning it back on his coat.

He slipped out of you, and you couldn't stop the whimper that left your lips. You could feel his cum dripping onto the windowsill. Richtofen didn't seem to care though, as he went about redressing himself. He was nice enough to throw you your clothes, and you took the hint. You didn't bother with panties, slipping your pants back on.

He didn't look at you. His hands were quick to fix his coat and uniform, smoothing out any wrinkles. He grabbed his hat and straightened it on his head, looking as polished as ever. Once he was finished, he finally looked back at you. His eyes held a warmth and rawness that looked terrifying on him.

"I'm not actually a Nazi, you know." He finally spoke.

You stared at him, eyes travelling down to the very obvious Nazi uniform.

He seemed to notice this and let out a snort, his gaze flicking downward. "Ja, ja. I know. But I didn't really have a choice in the matter. It's all rather complicated; Group 935, monetary needs, Maxis making promises to... certain parties. Which I strongly opposed, mind you."

"But-"

"It's a lot more complex than simply being a Nazi, fraulein. Besides, do I really look like the type to be a Nazi? "

"Absolutely you do." You say bluntly.

"I'm hurt." He gasped. "Und after I went through the trouble of telling you the truth. It was quite painful too - so much emotional torment." He feigned offense, putting a hand over his chest. "I may be an insane scientist, but that's all I am, I swear."

You could help the smile that found your lips. You tried to look away fast enough to hide it, but he saw it clear as day.

"There we go, I knew there was a smile under there." He smiled, his eyes soft. "Now, let's do this again soon, ja? Aber, I am a proper boy, you'll need to buy me dinner first before you seduce me, next time."

You laughed, shaking your head. You turned and left before you tried to stay longer, leaving Edward to chuckle at the door.

"Till next time, fraulein."

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