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postersofleon · 4 months

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Selfish

After many years of surviving the worst years of her life, [_] is tired and pissed that Leon and Ada have each other. So, in a small moment with Ada, she decided to ask Ada how she manages to keep people in love with her.

content: story with smut

notes: afab, no assigned race to reader and she/her pronouns ; re4 era; leon and reader are best friends, reader is confused but not hateful; ada is a sweetheart to reader; leon and ada aren't dating; implied that reader survived Raccoon City with leon

"I just don't see what Leon sees in you." Once she said it, she felt like a complete dick for saying it. She rubbed her face feeling her blood rushing through her face, "I don't mean it like that." She tried to explain to Ada.

Ada laughed softly, "I'm use to jealousy, honey. It's fine." She flipped her hair back as she looked at Leon's partner.

"That's not what I meant." She muttered again, she looked at Ada and kind of saw what Leon saw in Ada. Ada was an incredibly beautiful woman; her short black hair and those eyes that forced you to see her. But there was confusion approaching her once again, [_] rested her body on a table and looked at Ada. "You two kissed once six years ago, you ended being being liar and wanted to steal the g virus for an obviously bad guy. And you have Leon tied up in your finger. That's like insane." She was genuinely impressed by Ada. Especially that Ada faked her death and appeared like nothing ever happened.

Ada laughed softly again, "I'm not sure if it's an attack or a compliment but thank you?"

"That's what's I mean- you did all that shit and you have Leon still enamored by you. Does this usually happen?" [_] got closer to Ada with a huge wonder in her eyes. Ada laughed again. "This is new." She looked at [_] with the same curious way. The two women looked at each other, both waiting for an answer; Ada waiting for her answer of why [_] isn't jealous and [_] waiting for the answer if this happens.

"This is usually the normal in my life. Men are attractive to mystery, once they know what's wrong..." Ada crossed her arms against her chest, "They get angry or they try to fix you." Ada brushes her hair away from her face. [_] put her hands underneath her chin as she continued to look at Ada. "So, men... men are weak?" She asked slowly.

Now, Ada laughed loudly, "Men are complicated." She said amused from her words. "Leon is a guy who wants to be loved so that's what ties him up to me." [_] rolled her eyes but there was a trace of playfulness in them, "That's dumb." She whispered with a smile. She stood up from the table and stretched her bones. "Like how? He met you six years ago..." She whined softly feeling the bones finally relaxing softly. Her arms returned back to her body.

"I just think the real reason Leon likes you is because you're hot." She said throwing Ada a finger gun towards her. It made more sense that Leon had that idea around Ada; once again, Ada isn't not attractive.

"Leon has to be more complicated than that." Ada said trying to defend Leon but [_] shook her head. "How?" She laughed softly, there was a small pause between the two women as Ada shrugged as her heels clicked on the marble floor. "Leon got the survivor's guilt and the hero complex. It makes sense why he felt guilty about your 'death', but he obviously hurt by something imaginary that happened between you two." [_] said trying to make her point.

Ada looked at [_], "And you? Are you hurt?"

[_] shrugged, "I don't know," She grabbed her knife and started carving the table, "I just... I'm more disappointed that you were a mercenary for bad." She said looking at Ada. She licked her lips and smack them together, "You are doing bad things for a lousy paycheck." Ada smiled lightly at [_]'s words. "You don't hate me?" Her eyes focused on hers, [_]'s cheeks began to burn from the intense stare.

"After all the things I do and did," Ada said, "You don't hate me?" She teased her.

[_] twirled her knife in her hand, "I suppose I do." She admitted, "But I don't know why you are doing this job." Her eyes were completely soft and gentle for Ada, "Or aren't you just like us? Forced to work?"

Ada pursed her lips together as she looked up at the ceiling, "Ugh," She looked at her, "You want things to go in a perfect little box." Ada chewed on her lips as she approached [_], "Forced." She sighed softly. It seemed like she hated those words, "You two were forced but this was my saving grace. This lifestyle saved my life." Ada looked at her with a tiny smile.

Ada's intense stare lowered, "I like you," Ada whispered to [_], "At least you don't try to give me the typical speech of saving me, but you're annoying with that comment." Ada grabbed her knife and began craving the table, "You need to understand this world existed under your nose this whole time. The existence of zombies didn't make it appear, bad people exist and not all of them are forced to exist in that world."

[_] put her chin on the table as she saw Ada's hands, "What are you? Do you enjoy this or didn't have an option?"

"Didn't have one but I don't complain like you." Ada muttered, "I believe I have the right to complain," [_] said bitterly, "I was not meant for this life. I wish I could've died if I knew this is what I had to do."

Ada laughed.

It wasn't the simple laugh that she once heard come from her mouth, it sounded a bit cruel that [_] rolled her eyes. "You say you want to die but you don't know what death is." Ada stabbed the knife to the table causing her jump back, Ada smirked from her reaction. "Aren't you afraid at least a bit?" Ada asked.

"Who isn't?" She remarked, "But I think considering our work, we are scared of the consequences of our deaths. Me and Leon are here to save the president's daughter and you are here for something. None of us want to die but it's not the selfish way."

Ada's eyes narrowed. "Have you done anything selfish?" Ada asked.

"No."

"I have," Ada said with a smile but the smile slowly faded away, "But being selfish has its consequences." She looked at her for a second, "Being selfish," Ada continued, "Unfortunately is part of human nature. You haven't been a human then." And by cue, [_] groans, "What is being selfish in this world?"

She let's out a small chuckle before grabbing her knife, "Letting people die for a paycheck? Being in love with some random girl you met six years ago and now focusing all your energy in saving her and make an excuse that it's because you are good person? Money and sex. That's what fucking makes people selfish- stupid excuses."

"You sound jealous." Ada said.

"About what?" She slapped her hands on her thighs, clearly frustrated- not understanding what Ada wanted from her. "About what?" She approached Ada's face. "Leon is my best friend. He means the world to me and seeing him act like a fool... that's what pisses me off." Ada smiled and touched her arm, it was a gentle touch and [_] hated it. "So, you have never acted like a fool?" Ada asked with a mocking grin in her face.

She pulled away her hand from Ada's, "That's not the point."

"What's the point? [_], you want to be selfish like all of us." Ada said slowly, "You aren't jealous of him and I. You're full of envy that you can't be like us. The most selfish thing you said you wanted was death, and we had too many deaths in this world. Why not be actually selfish?" Ada was being gentle and [_] immediately recognized it. She saw that six years ago when Ada kissed Leon.

"You are just trying to manipulate me." She whispered softly, her eyes rolled as she stood up. "Is that all you do? Just manipulate people with kisses and touches? Six years ago, Leon was the toy you decided to play with, and now that Leon isn't here.... I'm the new chew toy." [_] took a deep breath in. "Be selfish somewhere else. Don't include me in your bullshit."

Ada saw as Leon's partner left the room.

Then, those couple of days passed. No more mission and the president's daughter was saved thanks to Leon's stubbornness and [_]'s anger towards the fight. They were back in American soil, she was taking a long hot shower trying to ease up her tense body. She left the shower room and quickly headed towards Leon, "Hey." She waved politely to Leon. Leon nodded his head, "Hey." They began to walk down the streets, she exhaled softly with a bored expression. These were moments she liked hanging out with Leon, just silent moments between them and they were always peaceful.

"Hey, Leon. Can I ask you something?" She asked him. Leon nodded his head, "Yeah, I don't see why not."

"Do... do you sexually like Ada?"

Leon didn't expect that question, his cheeks turned red, "Why would you ask that?" He turned to see her, "Um, no." He played with his faux blond hair.

"You are lying," [_] quickly said, "You always talk about how Ada broke your heart in Raccoon City. She betrayed your trust and blah blah. You remember more her fake death than Marvin's real death."

Leon sighed softly, "I'm more... pissed, [_]." He replied, he was struggling to use his words properly. "Ada made me realize that horrible people exist everywhere, but you made me realize that good people exist as well." He cleared his throat awkwardly. Her eyes lowered, "So, no?"

"No." Leon said with a small smile. The friends continued to walk until a cab separated them, she entered the cab and waved a goodbye to Leon. Once she was alone, she let out a small exhale through her lips. Her hands rubbed against her face as another shakey sigh escaped. She rested her head on the window as her mind felt like mess.

She thought about Ada and Leon.

Ugh.

Once arriving at her apartment, she sat on her couch still feeling beyond tired; her apartment was lonely still. All the items in her room were things she needed all but things of pleasure. She laid on her couch feeling all her emotional feelings rot inside of her.

Was she broken to live? Ada is right. [_] hasn't been selfish since forever since the beginning of her life. She is always worrying for others... when they are okay. She nuzzled against her pillows and let out a loud groan, she wanted to sleep forever now.

More days passed, she was just laying on her couch not moving and not doing anything else. She tapped her fingers in a small rhythm, her eyes looked at them. First her index, her middle, her ring and pinkie. Then, it was pinkie, middle, index and ring.

Someone knocked on her door, the were the typical Leon's knocks. Soft and polite with a dash of strength. She sat up in her couch, her feet dragged against the ground, "I'm coming." Her hand touched the door knob and indeed there was Leon. "[_], wanna drink?" He forced a smile at his best friend. She rested her body on her door frame, "I rather not. I feel that emptiness inside of me already," A small laugh escaped her throat, "I'll be addicted once it touches my lips." She whispered.

Leon smiled sadly, "That bad, huh?"

[_] nodded her head.

"That sucks." He whispered, his blue eyes went down and smiled back at her. "We'll be at the Blue's bar so if you want to still come." [_] smiled, "Will do." Leon left her alone in the hallway of her apartment. She closed the door and sat down back in her couch; her life is just turning into am endless hell for no reason. Another knock appeared in her door, she didn't recognize the knock, she grabbed her knife and twirled it around. Her breathing was small and focused, making sure the other person won't hear.

"C'mon, I won't hurt you."

Her nose twitched, "Ada?" She didn't lower her knife, "Why are you here?" The agent asked, their knife gently tapped on the wall, but Ada groaned softly to herself. "Don't be stubborn." A small sign of defeat appeared in [_]'s face as she unlocked the door. And there was Ada Wong. Her jet black bobbed hair neatly pinned away her eyes with a golden butterfly pin that she was sure she saw with the merchant. [_] took notice that Ada was in disguise, this isn't the clothes that [_] imagined Ada wore in her free time.

But still, she had her trademarked red color around her neck as a scarf.

Ada smiled and she smiled back.

"Why are you here?" She asked carefully still holding her knife but now away from Ada's view. "I wanted to teach you about being selfish." She entered the apartment. [_] threw her knife on the coffee table, Ada didn't seem to have super intentions.

[_] shut the door behind her, "Meaning?" She was utterly confused. But Ada had her thought settled into something she didn't expect. "I have been checking on you," Ada looked around the empty apartment, "You stay in one place more than Leon does." Ada's brown eyes met the agent, that when [_] realized that Ada doesn't necessarily smile- she misunderstood. Ada smirked and apparently smirked her way to the top.

"I'm tired. I got myself beaten up." [_] shrugged.

The two women looked at each other with that small distance between them. "Tough job." Ada sat down on her couch, [_] took way too much notice of Ada's clothing. Ada's beauty is a curse and they both knew it. "Yeah, I'm guessing your own job is hard as well."

Ada smirked again, her hand gently touched [_]'s hand and slowly pulled her to the couch with her. "Yeah. I'm going to teach you how to deal with the job when it's stresses you out. " Ada whispered softly. [_] closed her eyes trying to ignoring her lust.

She had two types of lust. The one that made hr vulnerable and the one that she used to use during one night stands when she was in college. [_] is trying to control her vulnerable side as Ada's hands rubbed her stomach gently to hold her waist. Her lips met her neck and kissed the agent.

It felt so good to be touched like this.

Shit.

Slowly, her head tilted and Ada found it as a chance to get on top of the agent, her knees were on the both sides of thighs. Ada's lips were on her jaw, her hands traced [_]'s skin gently and cupped her breast. Ada tugged the bra, her hand to cupped the agent's chest and gently scratched the sensitive skin.

The apartment was quiet. All that was heard was small gasping and the kissing Ada gave the neck. Soon, their lips finally touched, Ada cupped the agent's face as she attempted to suck on her lower lip. It was pure desperation as the women tried to hold each other. Ada removed her hand from underneath the shirt to hold her face properly. Ada put her tongue inside of her mouth in attempts to make this kiss last longer.

As [_] was kissed, an alarm came into her mind- Ada is using her. It was so obvious. Why would this beautiful woman kiss her in this manner? Ada had better options than her. She gently pulled away from Ada'a kiss and looked at her. Ada's cheeks were red, her eyes dilated... she needed more. [_]'s hand gently caressed Ada's face, Ada's face was so soft- it seemed to be like Ada was like a fragile doll that you weren't allowed to touch. It was hard to truly know a woman like this.

[_] took a small breath in, "So, now what?" She whispered softly.

Ada smirked but it was much softer than the first ones, "Well, I can give you a small favor." She slowly got herself into her knees as [_] looked down feeing a bit awkward. Ada's hands on the waistline of the sweats and slowly slide the off, [_]'s body tensed up. It had been a while since she had someone between her thighs, Ada's hands slowly took off the panties, "You owe me after this one." Ada gently kissed her thighs, and the kisses were slowly getting closer and closer to that spot.

Goodness, she hasn't even touched herself since she became an agent. [_]'s head tilted back on the couch, the feeling of Ada'a breath so close to there drove her a bit crazy. Her heart was pounding against her chest.

Ada got herself closer and closer until Ada was in the folds. Then, Ada's tongue gently moved around her pussy but completely avoiding the clit. Both of the women's breathing increased, Ada's fingers grabbed her thighs and squeezed them with her finger tips. Ada's tongue flattened and pressed itself completely on [_]'s pussy. It gently touched the clit.

There was no moaning or anything too much. It was just those tiny gasps escaping [_]'s lips. "Mmm..." It was all the escaped her throat.

Ada's tongue flicked over and over on her clit but gently sucking it. Her thighs quickly clenched up to try to keep Ada between her legs, but Ada was stronger as she pushed the legs open again with her hands. "Wait," Ada's voice was a bit hoarse, "I'm not done yet."

Ada's thin yet long fingers opened her pussy and licked the hole. [_] whined softly as her hips buckled against Ada's tongue, Ada's fingers slowly entered inside and pumping them gently in and out. [_] was so wet that they slide in and out without an issue. Ada's tongue was simulating her clit as the fingers pumped in and out.

The agent's breathing was turning into small pants, "Ada, fuck, Ada...." Her voice was whiny, her cunt clenched around Ada's fingers and it was making weaker as she felt Ada going a bit faster. Before she knew it, the agent released her juices on Ada's fingers. Ada moaned softly, "Good girl." Ada whispered softly. Her tongue dragged up the folds and cleaned up the cum, "That was good wasn't it? You didn't even think twice of having a mercenary between your pussy." Ada sat up in the couch, "You needed it so badly, didn't you?"

Ada wanted to tease the poor agent with those cruel words though Ada didn't expect [_] to cup her face. Another kiss where it kept Ada underneath the woman, [_]'s rough hands were on Ada's waist and slowly slid down to Ada's ass. She squeezed her ass gently, Ada was surprised but everything that was happening however in [_]'s mind was clear.

Ada was right.

She did need this.

Fighting those never ending monsters. Being smacked around by them, feeling your body take in all the pain in the world yet no drop of pleasure. No chance to be selfish.

[_] slowly pulled away from Ada's pink lips, "Sorry, I'm just..." Her eyes trailed away, "Tired." Ada smiled. "It happens." Ada whispered softly, her hand gently caressed the agent's face. "So, may I?" [_] asked her.

Ada looked confused at the woman's question, "You what?"

"You said I owed you so... it's my turn."

#resident evil #ada wong x reader #ada wong #re4 ada

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the-offside-rule · 1 year

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Pedri Gonzalez (FCBarcelona) - Smiler

Requested: tumblrrrr

Prompts: 20 - "Prettyboy"

49 - "Stop smiling at me, I can't."

Warnings: none, just quite cute and short

Y/n sat in a makeup chair as a small team had been working on her look for the Ballon D'Or ceremony in Paris. She was one of the nominees for the women's Ballon d'Or so it was obviously a big night for her. Her boyfriend Pedri stood the opposite side of her, getting his suit fixed and checked before both had to leave. His eyes kept making their way over to Y/n as he watched her makeup routine. Y/n opened her eye as the artist was preparing to do more eyeshadow when she caught a glimpse of her boyfriend analysing her intensely. A grin appeared on her now pinkish lips. "See something you like, prettyboy?"

Pedri was torn from his thoughts as he heard her voice. He smiled back to her. "No, you just have something stuck in your teeth, amor." The Barcelona staff chuckled at the light hearted banter between the couple, even recording it for their YouTube. "You just look very focused on my makeup. You want someone to do it for you?" She asked. "Do you think it would make me look prettier, amor?" She thought for a moment before nodding. "It could certainly try." More laughs escaped the staff.

"That wasn't funny." He smiled. "Wanna tell your face that? You look pretty amused." Pedri couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Whenever he looked at her, he couldn't help but do it. "I'll give you that." The couple finished off getting ready, before having a few photos snapped for Barcelona's 'power couple' as the fans called it. "Take one from my good side." Pedri joked. "Every side is your good side." She whispered, kissing his cheek, his smile growing even wider now. He turned to look at her, in complete awe. He caught himself smiling again.

"Will you stop smiling at me? I can't!" He covered his face, not letting anyone see him blushing. "You can't what?!" She laughed hysterically. "I can't deal with your smile! Ots like a virus! I have to smile back!" The pair sat in a fit of giggles and laughter for at least a minute or so, plenty of pictures being taken on the beautiful moment.

Thankfully, Gavi walked in so the staff soon asked for Y/n to be substituted for Gavi instead, now wanting pictures of the Barcelona besties. Y/n sat behind the camera, watching as her boyfriend posed, his eyes still occasionally falling to her instead of the camera. And there he was; her smiler

#fcbarcelona #laliga #football #pedri gonzalez #football blurbs #football imagines #pedri #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri gonzalez blurb #pedri gonzalez oneshot #pablo gavi

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chocochipbiscuit · 11 months

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Fic (and nonfic!) Recs for Pride!

In honor of Pride, have some of my favorite F/F and F/NB reads!

Short stories (available online)

Radcliffe Hall by Miyuki Jane Pinckard - 40k word novella, with a Japanese student attending an American women's college in 1908. It's a Gothic novel with the characters encountering the supernatural, which is no less malevolent than systemic racism and homophobia.

The First Stop Is Always the Last by John Wiswell - Short and sweet time loop flirtation!

Scallop by J.L. Akagi - A woman begins growing eyes all over her body, and struggles to hide them. All the warnings for body horror, eye injury, and referenced sexual assault.

The World Ends in Salty Fingers and Sugared Lips by Jen Reese - Time loop story about the end of the world and the ways we try to deal with the crushing uncertainty of the inevitable.

Romance

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston - Subway time travel romance! August moves to New York and meets Jane, a butch punk from the 70s who’s trapped on the subway. It’s warm and sweet and funny, with all the feels and queer found family goodness.

Fatal Fidelity by Rien Gray - Dark romance/erotic suspense featuring a bi femme fatale and a nonbinary assassin! The series begins with Love Kills Twice, in which Justine hires an assassin to get rid of her abusive husband…unaware that Campbell was also hired to kill her. Absolutely delicious.

Feminine Pursuits series by Olivia Waite - While I’m listing it as a series, each novel is entirely stand-alone! These are a set of historical F/F novels featuring women in arts and science (and beekeeping!) making their way and falling in love with one another!

Mrs. Martin’s Incomparable Adventure by Courtney Milan - Historical romance as two older women (73 and 69 years old, respectively!) plot the downfall of an absolutely Terrible Nephew who deserves everything that happens to him. An absolutely delicious comedic romp.

The Cybernetic Tea Shop by Meredith Katz - An AI repair technician and an autonomous robot who runs a small tea shop, set in a retro-futuristic America. It’s warm and gentle and yearning in very good ways.

Horror/Suspense

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin - Gender apocalypse featuring trans women! A virus has turned anyone with over a certain level of testosterone into cannibal rape monsters, so we’re following our trans protagonists as they try to survive feral men, murderous TERFs, and a sociopathic bunker brat. This deserves a LOT of content warnings but it’s also been blurbed as a ‘bleeding love letter to trans women’ and it really is.

Blackwater Sister by Zen Cho - A Malaysian-American lesbian moves to Malaysia with her family, where she is haunted by her grandmother’s ghost. Her grandmother is out for supernatural revenge, involving our protagonist with gangsters and a terrifying goddess.

Fingersmith by Sarah Waters - Historical crime novel in which a thief poses as a lady’s maid for a con, and ends up developing feelings for the mark. Except the lady’s not as innocent as she seems, and it’s difficult to add more without spoiling the novel but it’s good!

Science fiction

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine - Ambassador Mahit Dzmare travels to the capital of the interstellar Teixcalaanli Empire, discovers that her predecessor has died, and must find not only who murdered him, but why—while trying not to get murdered herself, and trying to maintain her small station’s independence from Teixcalaan’s ever-expanding empire. And there is a sequel but that has its own plot and requires you to read this one anyway!

Passing Strange by Ellen Klages - Set in San Francisco, built on artifice and delight as we follow a group of queer women both present and in the 1940s. Central story is a romance, two women trying to navigate both joy and the brutality of the worlds they inhabit.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone - An epistolary love story across time and space, in far futures and alternative pasts as two rival agents—post-singularity Red and bio-consciousness Blue—foil and thwart one another.

Fantasy

The Burning Kingdoms by Tasha Suri - Indian-inspired fantasy trilogy (third book coming in 2024!) that follows a captive princess and a maidservant with forbidden magic who navigate the the tension between their different loyalties and the politics of empire. Just! So good!

The Kingston Cycle by C.L. Polk - A fantasy trilogy (that’s actually complete!) set in a world where witches are persecuted and placed in asylums…while secretly, the witches of elite families use that power in service of the crown. The first book (Witchmark) starts with a murder mystery and a doctor with PTSD who follows that mystery to government secrets that force him to confront his estranged family. It’s also M/M, but the sequels (Stormsong and Soulstar) center around F/F and F/NB main pairings, respectively.

The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir - The first book starts with swordjock butches and lesbian necromancers in space going through (essentially) a haunted mansion together, and it just keeps going after that! It’s delightful, deranged, and full of fantastic characters I want to gnaw on!

When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain by Nghi Vo - A beautiful frame story with a very fairytale feel, where the cleric Chih is telling the story of a tiger and her lover, a female scholar, to a trio of hungry tigers who threaten to eat them if Chih tells the story incorrectly!

A Master of Djinn by P. Djeli Clark - Mystery and magic and suspense in a steampunk Cairo, set forty years after magic returned to the world! The first female agent for the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments, and Supernatural Entities is assigned to discover who murdered members of a secret cult. In addition to solving the case, she’s also assigned a rookie partner to train, and navigating the surprise return of her girlfriend, who has her own secrets! This is a really fun romp, full of joy and wonder. (And Fatma’s fabulous suits!)

Nonfiction

In the Dream House by Carmen Machado - A memoir about surviving domestic abuse, with each chapter using a different trope or genre convention to not only explore the way the relationship affected her sense of self, but also about trying (or failing) to find that representation in cultural history. It’s a rough read in places, but absolutely worth it if you’re in a space to handle that sort of content. (And in case it’s not obvious: her ex was another woman. Abuse isn’t limited by gender.)

#pride #book recs #story recs #f/f #f/nb #genre fiction #I wanted to keep this list short'n punchy but if you have questions or want to know about content warnings hmu!

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bigification · 5 months

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A Dad's World - Prologue

Report 127: Summary of Findings

Author: Alan Farren

Date: November 12th, 2023

Location: Fairhaven Outpost

Days since outbreak: 87

It has been nearly three months since the initial outbreak of what we are now calling the 'Father virus'. Almost three months since all women and children disappeared, and the remaining men began transforming into larger and more mature versions of themselves.

It was quickly discovered that the virus spreads through bodily fluids entering the body. This is most commonly observed with saliva, blood, and cum. The best ways to avoid the virus are to cover as much skin as possible with clothing, making sure to reinforce exposed wounds. Take extra care to cover every orifice using goggles, face masks, and protection for the anal cavity as these are most common entry points for the virus.

Symptoms appear almost immediately after contact with the virus in what's referred to as the 'Transformation stage' of infection. Symptoms include rapid multiplication of fat and muscle tissues, changes to physical anatomy, and heightened testosterone production resulting in changes in behaviour, growth of body hair, thinning of hair on the head, and growth of sexual organs. Although symptoms differ drastically from person to person in the transformation stage, symptoms seem to stagnate afterwards, only reappearing in very specific situations explained in further detail in paragraph 4. The infected are commonly referred to as 'Dads', due to the physical changes brought in by the virus.

We have discovered 7 types of 'Dad'; the jock, the farmer, the nerd, the father, the elder, the entertainer, and the athlete as organized by most common to least common. Each exhibits different behaviour and have different physical and mental changes upon infection. In most cases, the type of infection is determined upon infection and does not change. But in cases observed in small communities, individual infected may reenter a transformation stage and change into another type of dad. This is thought to be a mutation in the virus in a struggling environment attempting to change its host into something more fit for its environment.

The following is an in depth record of each type of infected that has been discovered as of November 12th, 2023.

The Jock:

There are 2 sub types of Jock, type a) and type b).

Jock a) aka. Ripped Jocks

Mental Attributes:

The ripped jock has the lowest mental capacity of the known dad types. They are limited in their capabilities when not instructed by others, but are great at following orders. They do, however, seem to have instinctual knowledge of how to use many types of weapons and show good hand to hand combat skill without training. Most ripped jocks tend to be loud and imposing, but don't tend to have much of meaning to say. They're also the most hostile to uninfected humans.

Physical Attributes:

The ripped jock has the second highest muscle mass of the dad types, falling just behind the Tank Jock. Muscle mass is highest in the biceps, chest, and thighs. The ripped jock has a very small body fat percentage, especially for how much muscle mass they have. They have the largest genitalia of the dad types, this is thought to be for means of infection as cum is their most common method of infection, and it is also potentially used for reproduction. The ripped jock tends to have a large lower jaw, broad shoulders and chest, and thick thighs. They sweat a considerable amount, and tend to smell musky. Like other types of dads they tend to have short hair, but ripped jocks are the only type of dad that has been observed hairless. Although it is unknown whether this is due to them shaving, or if some ripped jocks are naturally hairless.

Average weight; 350 pounds

Average height; 6'8"

Roles:

Ripped jocks are most often used in the dad's military force as soldiers, due to their proficiency with weapons and combat, as well as their obedience. They have also been observed as labourers in construction and landscaping due to their physical strength. Ripped jocks are also rarely found in fight clubs if their community has them.

Visual Signs:

A dad with a wide jaw, large chest and biceps, and a six pack will almost always be a ripped jock. Though if a dad is hairless, it is a ripped jock as no other type has been observed without body hair. They tend to wear either sports gear, tang tops, or are shirtless unless they're in military gear.

*Example of Ripped Jock Specimen*

Jock b) aka. Tank Jocks

Mental Attributes:

Tank jocks or tanks are still among the dumbest of dad types, but tend to be slightly more intelligent than ripped jocks. They're also far more independent than ripped jocks, tending to have hobbies outside of their roles. They are good fighters, but rely more on their sheer size rather than technique when they fight. Tanks are often kind and sweet despite their stature, and are very good at listening. Some can even hold a good conversation.

Physical Attributes:

Tanks are the largest type of dad, combining the muscle of the ripped jock and the fat of the father. They have the highest muscle mass of any type, and have the third highest average fat percentage below the father and the elderly. They store most of their fat in their stomach, chest, and thighs with some going to their biceps and ass. Like the ripped jock, tanks tend to have large lower jaws, but theirs get covered in a layer of fat giving them a soft jawline and somewhat chubby cheeks. They have broad shoulders, soft round pecs, a large gut, and generally very soft features. They are also on average the second hairiest type of dad, just behind the farmers and they're the second most likely to be bald, just behind the elders. Tanks tend to have large hands and feet as well as sun damaged skin from all of the labour outside.

Average weight; 500 pounds

Average height; 6'6"

Roles:

Tanks are often labourers in construction and landscaping, they can be used for anything that requires strength. They occasionally join the military force, but their natural kindness often clashes with it, making it a rare sight.

Visual Signs:

Tanks are massive, anyone with huge muscle and a ball gut is a tank. They tend to wear baseball caps to avoid the sun, but don't often have shirts on due to the rarity of clothes that fit. Jeans and work boots are also very common.

*Example of Tank Jock Specimen*

The Farmer:

Mental Attributes:

Farmers tend to be slightly below average intelligence, though they're very knowledgeable when it comes to tending to plants and animals. They're very reserved, preferring to be with animals than other dads. Though when they are with others, they tend to be nice. Farmers rarely have hobbies that don't involve their roles and spend a majority of their time working.

Physical Attributes:

Farmers have an average build for a dad, though they do have a high variability in body fat percentage compared to other types of dad. Farmers with a lower body fat percentage tend to have a V shaped torso with a tight waist and a fat ass. Farmers with larger body fat percentages tend to store most of their fat in their guts. They're the hairiest type of dad usually sporting a large beard and a thick layer of hair over most of their body. Farmers have a modest amount of muscle for a dad, but have massive hands to help handle crops, animals, and farm tools.

Average weight; 250 - 350 pounds

Average Height; 6'2"

Roles:

Most farmers fall into one of two roles, crop farmers and livestock farmers. Crop farmers grow fruits and vegetables, and occasionally grow flowers when in thriving communities. Livestock farmers raise and care for animals, using them for animal products and protein. Though in smaller communities, farmers often take on both of these roles. In rare cases, farmers may take on other roles depending on environment and community needs. Farmers have been observed in roles such as lumberjacks and fishermen.

Visual Signs:

Farmers are the hairiest type of dad, look for big bushy beards, and thick hairs covering the body. Avoid using weight and physique as farmers have a high variability in weight. Farmers often wear jeans with suspenders, big boots, jean or flannel button ups, and usually sport baseball caps or straw hats.

*Example of a low BMI Farmer Specimen*

The Nerd:

Mental Attributes:

Nerds are by far the smartest type of dad, having a higher average IQ than even the smartest elders and athletes. They're well spoken and kind, but a high percentage of nerds exhibit narcissistic behaviours, often seeing themselves as different or better than other types of dads. Nerds can usually talk about topics they're interested in for hours, but only seem to talk to dads they deem smart enough. Nerds are the only type of dad that has been observed to be non hostile to uninfected humans. They tend to rather converse with humans they consider intelligent or intriguing, though they tend to show hostility otherwise. Nerds have the most varied hobbies of any type of dad, they tend to hyperfixate on topics they deem interesting. They have even been observed conducting experiments and doing research into scientific topics that interest them.

Physical Attributes:

Nerds tend to be tall and skinny compared to other types of dads. They have a low body fat percentage and medium muscle mass, having relatively normal human proportions. Though nerds that have an interest in physical health may have proportions closer to the ripped jock. Nerds have bad eyesight, so they usually wear glasses or contacts if they can find them.

Average Weight; 250 pounds

Average Height; 6'8"

Roles:

Nerds have high versatility compared to other types of dads. Though they tend to take on roles in healthcare and education, they can take on a variety of roles including architecture, psychology, and sometimes even high ranking roles in the military.

Visual Signs:

Nerds almost always wear glasses, if a dad is wearing glasses and doesn't look old then they're most likely a nerd. They tend to be tall but otherwise have relatively normal proportions. Nerds tend to be well kept with short stubble and clean skin. Nerds also tend to dress fancier than other types of dads, usually sporting suits or dress clothes.

*Example of Nerd Specimen*

The Father:

Mental Attributes:

Father type dads are caring and sociable. They tend to put other dads before themselves and spend most of their time socializing, usually with other father type dads. They're of average intelligence among the dad types, they can become somewhat knowledgeable on topics of interest but tend to struggle keeping up with anything the nerds talk about. They show high degrees of empathy toward other dads, but have only been observed as hostile towards uninfected humans.

Physical Attributes:

Father type dads are obese. They have the highest body fat percentage of the dad types, concentrating most of it in the stomach and chest. Fathers don't have very high muscle mass, but have been shown to be very strong when under stress. They tend to have round faces and even rounder guts, with the rest of their bodies being plump and soft. Father type dads are slow and unathletic, being the easiest type of dad to escape other than the elders.

Average Weight; 400 pounds

Average Height; 6'6"

Roles:

Fathers most often take on caretaking roles. They often cook, clean, and generally nurse the sick and elderly dads. Though they can take on communal roles, such as cooking and cleaning for their entire communities, especially when there are few sick and elder dads. They are rarely seen filling the roles of entertainers when there are an abundance of fathers and a lack of entertainers

Visual Signs:

Fathers are very fat, but lack the muscle and excessive body hair of the tanks. They often wear very loose fitting and casual clothes, most often seen in jeans and t-shirts.

*Example of Father Specimen*

The Elder:

Mental Attributes:

Elders are the second smartest type of dad behind the nerds, though they possess more wisdom and maturity than the nerds. They're emotionally intelligent and tend to provide life knowledge that the nerds are incapable of providing, even if they're only recently infected. They tend to have simple hobbies, but do not need much to stay entertained. Despite being intelligent, elders tend to have a poor short term memory.

Physical Attributes:

Elders are the weakest type of dad, with the lowest muscle mass of any type of dad. They have the second highest body fat percentage, only slightly behind the fathers. They have similar fat distribution to the fathers, but tend to be much hairier. They're nearly immobile and are rarely a threat to humans, usually requiring assistance when they walk, if they get up at all. Elders have white hair and are usually balding, with mostly white hair covering their bodies. They have wrinkled and sagging skin, reminiscent of elderly humans. Elders have large round guts and soft breasts, similar to father types.

Average Weight; 350 pounds

Average Height; 6'0"

Roles:

Elders are the only type of dad that have been observed without roles in their communities, though most of them still have roles. They tend to take on roles in politics and law due to their wisdom, maturity, and ability to be impartial. Most elders that do not have one of these roles tend to contribute to their community by making art and clothing.

Visual Signs:

Elders tend to be the only type of dad that has majority grey hair. They also tend to have much older looking features than the other types. Elders are also very slow and often use assistance to move. It is not advised to use body shape as a sign due to the similarity between the body shape of elders and fathers.

*Example of Elder Specimen*

The Entertainer:

Mental Attributes:

Entertainers are of average intelligence among dad types. They tend to lack the book smarts that nerds have, but they have excellent people skills. They're extremely good at reading other dads and have the ability to be very deceptive if they choose, though they often choose to be charming and persuasive rather than deceptive. Entertainers are confident in themselves and their abilities, and can even become competitive if their abilities are questioned. They enjoy pleasing other dads and often use comedy or sex to try to cheer them up. They have the highest libido of any dad type, up there with the jocks, but are much better at controlling their desires around other dads.

Physical Attributes:

Entertainers tend to have average builds, though they do have a relatively high variation of muscle mass and body fat compared to other dad types. They're on average a lot more conventionally attractive than other dad types. Their muscle usually concentrates in their biceps, chest, abs, and thighs, giving them the appearance of having more muscle mass than they do. For entertainers who have a higher body fat percentage, their fat tends to spread evenly throughout their bodies. They also tend to hairier than the average dad, having full beards, hairy bodies, and unlike most other dad types, they almost always have a full head of hair. The occasional entertainer will be completely bald, but they have never been observed in the stages of balding. Entertainers have some of the largest genitalia of any dad type, just falling short of the jocks.

Average Weight; 250 pounds

Average Height; 6'4"

Roles:

Most entertainers work as sex workers within their communities. They often work with jocks to satisfy their high libido and to keep them from getting too aggressive, as sexual frustration is a common problem among jocks. Though, in larger communities with many entertainers, they often take on roles as artists. They will usually pursue acting, visual arts, or even music if the need for sex work is low. Although they rarely ever stop having sex with dads regardless of whether its their role.

Visual Signs:

Entertainers rarely wear clothes other than jockstraps or leather, and they often wear jewellery. They also tend to be more conventionally attractive than other dad types. It is unreliable to rely on body shape, as there are many other dad types that may share the same shape.

*Example of Entertainer Specimen*

The Athlete:

Mental Attributes:

Athletes possess higher than average intelligence for dads. They're great strategists and problem solvers, always finding a way out of bad situations. They act the most similar to the average human man, at least similar to the average American man. They're tough on themselves and on others, as a result, they can be quite intimidating to other dads despite their stature. They tend to spend their spare time working out or occasionally reading philosophy and self help books. Athletes tend to be quite good at knowing peoples weaknesses and exploiting them.

Physical Attributes:

Athletes are much smaller than other dad types. They're much shorter than other dads and have quite lean bodies in comparison, though they're stronger than they look. Athletes are quick and nimble, being great runners, climbers, and acrobats. They look very similar to humans, though they appear to be on the hyper masculine side of regular men. They tend to have good definition, but it doesn't show that well through clothing. Athletes usually have trimmed beards, sharp features, and big hands, feet, and genitalia relative to their size. They also tend to have loud and deep voices and their faces often appear angry or annoyed even at rest.

Average Weight: 180 pounds

Average Height: 5'8"

Roles:

Due to their small stature, athletes are often used for any role that involves running or climbing. As such they're often used as messengers between dad communities and as scouts for human outposts. Their agility and speed make them amazing spies as well. Also, due to their ability to strategize, they often work high up in their community's military.

Visual Signs:

Athletes are extremely dangerous as they resemble uninfected men. Be cautious around assertive and hyper masculine men, especially if they're relatively short as athletes are shorter than men on average. Athletes often wear baseball caps, but don't tend to have any preferred clothes other than that. They also tend to have large hands and feet, but not a significant enough difference from men to reliably use to spot athletes.

Other Notes:

Athletes seemed to have evolved after the initial outbreak. After the initial wave of men to infect, dads struggled to find humans, so athletes seemed to be their response to this need. A smart, quick, and nimble dad who blends in with humans is exactly what they needed and got.

*Example of Athlete Specimen*

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punk-bot · 1 year

Text

Goncharov, Star Wars, Stonewall, and Disco, and the 1970s: an epiphany.

ETA: This is a discussion of Goncharov as a meme and how it relates to Queer culture, therefore I am not tagging it with the “unreality” tag. Goncharov is not a real film, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t important; for reasons I will now explain.

I may be going crazy, but I think I am on to something regarding the true meaning of the whole Goncharov phenomenon, and it's kind of related to Vaporwave and the image that people who didn't grow up in the 1980s or early 1990s (or who have hazy memories of it from their earliest childhood) have enshrined it in the "aesthetic" of vaporwave. But while the themes of Vaporwave are tied to capitalism and consumerism, the "aesthetic" of the 1970s has very different associations.

The whole 70s-to-80s transitional vibe is a favorite topic of mine: right before the Muskrat bought twitter, I tweeted a whole thread about how Panos Cosmatos channels that whole vibe better than nearly any director I've ever seen. (Yes, even Quentin Tarantino - fight me.)

People are watching the new Star Wars media, which are all based around the Original Trilogy and therefore have sort of the same 70s "aesthetic look" of the time in which those movies were made. George Lucas was incorporating and repurposing as much regular stuff that existed in the 1970s that he could, and it contributed to his "used, lived in future" vibe that I think people really glommed onto when they saw the films.

For example: Aunt Beru's outfit from the first film looks like something the actress could have worn on the street in 1977 without anyone giving her a second glance.

People all over the film (but particularly in the scenes on Tatooine) were wearing regular clothes and then making them over or putting accessories over them to make them look futuristic and alien; "Star Wars Bounding" before that was really even a thing. Their regular 1970s street clothes.

This is related to Goncharov because: people are watching Andor and The Mandalorian, and they're starting to ask "what happened to the 1970s aesthetic? Why don't we bring that back?"

Even more than the 60s and the 80s were at various points, the 70s have for a long time been a punchline for bad taste, but there's something more sinister to it beyond merely sneering at the outdated fashion of a previous decade. And it hit me while I was watching this video about the rise of Disco and how Disco's origins were connected with the Stonewall Riots.

The joke about the Goncharov film hoax is how it's a "forgotten film" and about "analyzing the themes of Goncharov." About themes of homoeroticism, about two men (one of them a Discotheque owner on the run from a repressive regime) and two women who are in love, all of whom are unable to consummate that love, because of toxic masculinity and cultural expectations. About clocks being a frequent and repeating symbol - about the characters’ time running out. And the film basically disappearing from public knowledge and being forgotten for decades because these themes were "ahead of their time." (All of this originating from a post about a pair of knockoff boots.)

Because this is a metaphor for the LGBTIQ experience in the 1970s if ever there was one. About a time when an intersection of Queer-BIPOC culture proudly asserted itself for a single shining moment in time - then was eventually subject to both a bigoted, racist backlash and a horrific epidemic so damaging and deadly that we're still analyzing the human cost and the effect it had on society as a whole. Queer culture exploded onto the scene in the 1970s - and then its time suddenly ran out. Or was cut short.

Goncharov - or rather, the spirit and the moment in time that it represents - wasn't "forgotten." It was buried. First under a racist, homophobic/transphobic backlash, then by the malignancy of Reaganism and the AIDS virus that Reagan and his policies enabled to spread and kill thousands. Under the sneering condescension and bigotry of the people who want this spirit to stay buried.

But this spirit is unkillable. Tumblr just gave this spirit a name: Goncharov.

This same spirit is in Andor, to a point - because Queer culture is being actively repressed by the usual bigots and fascists, and Star Wars in general has a running theme of resisting oppression, and it is firmly anchored to its 1970s roots despite taking place "a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away." Spoiler warning for the Andor season finale: but it was impossible for me to see the scenes of rebellion and not flash back on this recent tweet from Dan Savage in the wake of the Club Q shooting:

("Out of the bars, into the streets!")

One of the things I think about all the time is what would have been if the right wing bigoted backlash had been turned back, and how things might be different if Reaganism and the AIDS crisis had never happened. What our culture might have become. How much further ahead we might be than we are now.

We're still facing that same toxic right wing backlash right now, but it's our duty to resist and survive however we can, hoping that this time we might turn the tide.

Stonewall lives. Disco lives. Goncharov lives. Long live the Rebellion.

#Goncharov #Star Wars #Andor #Queer Culture #Disco #lgbtiq+ rights #Goncharov Lives #Discussion of Goncharov as a meme

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yuujispinkhair · 2 years

Text

To the end (Chapter 2)

The end of the world as you knew it began with the virus spreading in your dorm. Six months later, you are once again on the run. By your side is Sukuna, the bad boy of your camp, the most unlikely companion you expected. But maybe this is exactly as it should be because sometimes hope comes in the form of a smug smirk and a tattooed pair of sword-yielding arms.

Masterpost ++ Chapter 1

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Zombie Apocalypse AU, horror, smut and some fluff Playlist: Zombie Apocalypse Word Count: 6k Warnings: 18+, violence, gore, angst, smut, rough sex, cum-eating, squirting, zombies, fighting, knives, blood, mentions of several side characters' deaths, alcohol, cigarettes, suicidal thoughts. This AU is based on The Walking Dead, so imagine a world like this. It's cruel and hopeless at times, but there is also a love story :) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You wake up with a start. You don't know where you are, and your body reacts instinctively, making you jump out of bed, ready to flee or fight or do both. But you only get a few steps before you run into a solid chest and hear an amused laugh.

"Easy there, princess. Don't knock yourself out."

You blink up at the owner of that chest. And finally, your mind catches up with what is going on. The zombie attack last night. Your unexpected savior. His katana cutting through undead bodies as he slayed through them with all his anger and strength. Pink hair and red and black blood.

Sukuna.

You take a step back, feeling relieved and intimidated at the same time. Sunlight is streaming in through the small window of the hut, mercilessly showing all the reminders of last night's fight on your new companion's skin and clothes.

He still looks as gory as last night, with all the dried blood and dirt splattered all over his face and clothes. The tank top he's wearing looks stiff from all the filth.

Unbidden, a memory comes to your mind. You overheard several women in the camp say that Sukuna only wears that tank top because it shows off his muscular arms and pecs. They always giggled when saying it, their eyes traveling across the camp to where Sukuna was standing, letting their hungry gazes trail shamelessly over his body.

Your lip twitches.

You know that Sukuna had a certain reputation in your camp. The bad boy, with a short temper and an intimidating aura, but who is also a big flirt. He is a guy who knows how hot he is and enjoys using this to his advantage.

At least three girls in your camp claimed to have slept with Sukuna, and at one point, two of them got into a dramatic argument because they were jealous of each other. They fought over him while Sukuna leaned back in his camping chair and watched them with an amused smirk on his handsome face, enjoying the show way too much. In the end, they both screamed at him to pick his fave, and he just shook his head and told them he didn't do favorites.

If you're honest, it had been quite entertaining. Like watching some trashy reality tv-show. A little normality in the middle of the apocalypse.

Right now, the muscular arms in question are filthy with dried blood, and the stench of death and decay clings to them. But you know that you aren't in any better state. Your clothes feel disgusting where they cling to your skin, sticky with gore and sweat. And you don't even want to know what your hair and skin must look like after all the blood raining down on you last night.

There's a change of clothes in your backpack, but it would be a waste to change into them while you are still so dirty yourself.

Sukuna seems to think the same thing because he informs you:

"Now that you're awake, we can go check in which direction the creek is. I think we shouldn't be too far away. Are you ok to go?"

You nod and try a small smile, though you are sure it fails miserably. Your muscles are sore from the fighting and running last night, and the emotional fatigue is even worse.

Your friend comes to your mind again. Over and over, the same horrible image of her body getting buried under the zombies. Their hands and teeth tearing at her flesh. You feel bile rising in your throat and have to press a hand over your mouth.

Sukuna lifts an eyebrow, giving you a skeptical look before he clicks his tongue.

"Look, since you and I are in this together now, I have some rules, and the first rule is that you don't lie to me. So I'm asking you again, are you ok?"

"I...yeah...I..."

He rolls his eyes dramatically, crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest and looking down at you with a mocking expression on his face.

"Oooh, how convincing. Try again."

His tone is too mocking, his gaze too infuriatingly smug. Something in you snaps. All the anger and frustration and fear you bottled up explodes out of you as you glare at him and spit out angrily:

"Of course, I'm not ok! Are you ok? I don't think so! No one in this world is ok! I am tired of all this fighting. I lost my friend last night! I have no idea what to do or where to go. How am I supposed to be ok? But I am thirsty and covered in dirt and blood and other disgusting things, and I just want to get clean and drink something and maybe feel a tiny bit more comfortable! So can we please go find that creek?! If I have a breakdown on the way, just leave me there to die! I won't be a burden to you!"

Your eyes meet a pair of amused maroon ones. The owner of those eyes grins at you with that typical rude smirk, and his tongue is sticking out between his teeth, making him look so inappropriate somehow. Sukuna always has such an infuriating way of looking at people! It drives you up the wall!

His eyes sparkle when he cocks his head and tells you in an overly fake sweet voice:

"Aww, see, that's the truth. I knew you could do it. Wasn't that hard, was it? So, from now on, you will always be this honest with me, ok?"

You glare at him. Asshole! But his smug smirk grows even wider.

"And the second rule is that you always do as I tell you. Now follow me, brat."

You can't stop yourself from muttering under your breath, "The only brat here is you."

Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours, his eyes fixing you with an unreadable expression. For a second, you are sure you have gone too far, but then Sukuna laughs.

"If being a brat keeps me alive in this fucked up world, then I think it's a good thing. Maybe being a bit fucked up myself helps."

He straps his katana across his back before leaning down to grab your backpack and shoving it against your chest.

"Get whatever you need for a little excursion."

Sukuna pushes the heavy cupboard away from the door as if it weighs nothing, making you think that, as insufferable as he is, he was probably the best person you could run into last night.

He and his brother always were the strongest in your camp. The Itadori twins who chopped more wood in an hour than anyone else. They taught others how to fight and were always the first ones in line when an attack happened.

The difference is that Yuuji is friendly and all smiles and warm words, helpful and ready to sacrifice himself for others in a heartbeat. A hero straight out of a fairytale. The knight in shining armor.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is a bit of an asshole. Arrogant, rude, and ready to fight anyone over petty stuff. Allergic to people telling him what to do. Infamous for his snide remarks.

He once dragged two teenagers who had tried to sneak away back to the camp and snapped at them that he wouldn't die for idiots like them and that if he ever catches them again doing stuff that puts everyone else in danger, he would make sure to feed them to the zombies himself. Everyone in your camp had believed him.

So if Yuuji is the hero, then Sukuna is probably the anti-hero.

You would feel more comfortable with Yuuji here, but you know you shouldn't be complaining about getting the wrong twin. After all, Sukuna is the one who saved your life last night. And if you want to keep living for a while longer, he is your best bet.

And so you quickly put on your backpack, grab your knife, and follow your new zombie apocalypse partner out of the hut and into the forest.

Sukuna is good at this, you realize.

It's the first time you have joined him on an excursion. You always assumed he was just good at fighting. A strong, tall guy who used to be the star player of some sport team in college and now is valuable to the camp because of his brute strength and ability to fight.

But to your surprise, he is also adept at navigating expertly through the forest.

When he catches you watching him, he answers your questioning looks with a short explanation about how to use nature's clues for navigation. He points out markings on the tree barks and tells you what to learn from animal tracks on the ground.

"And all that tells me that the creek should be in this direction."

You follow him, genuinely impressed by his skills.

"So, did you learn all that after the virus, or did you know it before?"

"I knew it before. My grandpa used to take my brother and me hiking and camping almost every weekend when we were kids. Explained all kinds of survival stuff to us. He said those are the truly important things a man needs to know. I guess he was right after all."

Sukuna laughs softly, sounding a lot less intimidating than he usually does to you. His maroon eyes light up when you look at him, and a smile blooms on his face, making him look weirdly pretty despite the blood on his face.

He points a long finger towards a small opening between the trees, and when you follow his gaze, you see something glittering in the distance. Sunlight reflecting on water, you realize.

You smile too, feeling some tension leave your body at the prospect of being able to clean up and get something to drink.

"You did it, Sukuna!"

The rest of the walk goes by without any disturbances. Finally, you reach the small creek and fill your water bottles and wash your faces and arms.

Sukuna shoves the last water bottle into his backpack and jerks his chin in the direction the water flows.

"I want to follow it downhill. Maybe there's a pond down there where we can bath."

He is right. In the nearby valley lies a small pond. The water is peaceful and clear, undisturbed by any undead creatures.

You want to inquire who should get into the water first, but when you turn to Sukuna, he is already grabbing the hem of his filthy tank top and pulling it over his head. It happens so fast that you don't even have time to process what he's doing. You blink at his naked torso, the defined muscles of his pecs and abs, the black tattoed lines inked into his tan skin.

Your mind is barely processing this when Sukuna's long fingers are already wandering to his belt and undoing it before they proceed to open the button and zipper of his black jeans.

You are still staring at him speechlessly when his fingers hook in the hem of his jeans and the black boxer briefs he's wearing underneath and start to push them down.

That's when you finally get out of your momentary daze, and a strangled sound escapes your mouth. You quickly look away, pressing your hands in front of your eyes as you feel your face get hot.

"Hey! What are you doing!?"

Sukuna's low voice sounds amused when he says:

"Aww, do I make you nervous, princess? This is literally the end of the world, and you think I lack decency when I want to get out of my filthy clothes? Just turn around if seeing a naked guy bothers you so much. You are missing out, though."

You roll your eyes at his teasing comment but turn around so your back is to him, heart beating up to your throat.

He is right. There is no need to be so flustered about this. It's no big deal. You are trying to survive out here in this crazy apocalyptic world, so a bit of naked skin shouldn't make you spin out of control. And it's not like Sukuna would be the first guy you see nude.

But if you are honest, Sukuna really makes you nervous. He is hot. He looks and acts like one of those popular jocks at your old college. But not like one of the golden boy types or the team captains. Sukuna looks like one of the troublemakers who would have already gotten kicked out of the team if they weren't so damn talented.

It makes you nervous to be stuck here with someone like him. Especially since he is so confident, bordering on arrogant. He knows the effect he has on people, and he uses it with far too much glee and smugness.

You wait until he announces in that low, lazy drawl that he is decent again.

"Hey, brat! Your turn."

Your gaze lands on a dripping-wet Sukuna who has his back to you and is currently drying his pink hair with a ratty towel. He is far from decent with the way he looks, clad only in a snug pair of black boxer briefs. But at least he's not entirely naked.

You can't stop yourself from checking out the muscles on his back. They ripple enticingly with every movement of Sukuna's strong arms. And then your gaze gets inevitably drawn to his firm ass and muscular thighs.

You gulp hard. You weren't aware that Sukuna also has those black rings tattoed so far up his thighs. They look scandalous, for lack of a better word. Too sexy.

You are relieved when Sukuna finally puts on a pair of cargo pants a moment later and covers up those tempting markings on his skin.

The cargo pants sit low on his hips, though, showing his defined v-line when he turns around. And the new black tank top Sukuna puts on now doesn't do much to hide his athletic figure either. Maybe the girls in the camp were right, and he really likes to wear things that show off his muscles. Idiot.

You school your expression into an unimpressed blank gaze, but Sukuna's eyes sparkle knowingly at you, and the smirk on his pretty face is far too smug. He knows. He knows that you watched him, that your eyes were glued to his gorgeous body just a minute ago.

Sukuna nods towards the pond.

"Hurry up, princess! I won't look, I promise. Tell me when you're finished."

You hurriedly get undressed and walk into the water, scrubbing off all the grime and blood.

It feels good to be clean again, to see your skin unstained by gore. And Sukuna is surprisingly tame and polite, standing with his back to you, keeping watch of your surroundings as you get out of the water and hastily dry yourself with a spare t-shirt before slipping into your clean change of clothes.

"I want to go back to the camp. Maybe my brother went back too and is waiting for me there."

You nod where you are walking next to Sukuna,

"Yeah, that sounds likely. I hope you'll find him there."

But Yuuji isn't in the camp.

No one is there anymore. At least no one with a beating heart. You feel nauseous when you see one of the girls who fought over Sukuna a few weeks ago slowly dragging her feet across the burnt grass, gurgling noises coming out of her mouth, eyes dead and milky.

This is the true horror of this virus. Seeing familiar faces stripped off anything that made them the person they used to be. Just a blank shell. Only driven by the instinct to eat.

And it's not just the ones who got bitten by a zombie. Everyone who dies comes back as these soulless creatures. The dead only stay dead if you destroy their brain.

You watch Sukuna walk over to the zombie who was once a girl he had fun with. His katana stays in its sheath on his back. Instead, Sukuna pulls a short knife out of one of his pant pockets.

His hand tangles in long hair as he pulls the zombie's head back and then rams a knife into the side of its skull. The gurgling noises die, and the fingers trying to claw at Sukuna finally stop their struggle.

It's over.

Sukuna lowers the dead body to the ground in an oddly gentle way. You can see his lips moving, whispering a last farewell, maybe.

His gaze meets yours as he straightens up again. There's a shadow ghosting over his handsome face. He isn't as unaffected by this as you assumed. It's comforting somehow. As ruthless as Sukuna is when slaying the zombies, his heart doesn't seem to be made out of stone after all when it is someone he used to know.

But he recovers quickly and puts the knife away, and finally pulls his katana out of its sheath as he strides over to the makeshift kitchen of your old camp, where a little group of zombies is gathered.

"Search the remaining trailers for food and other useful stuff, brat. I'll take care of the vermin!"

You watch in grim fascination as Sukuna lifts his katana above his head before bringing the blade down on two undead creatures coming towards him, slicing effortlessly through their necks and severing their heads with one powerful move.

As soon as they hit the ground, Sukuna pushes skillfully between the remaining group of zombies. You hear him laugh gleefully as he makes a pinwheel in their midst, beheading four of them with one spin.

He looks so graceful while killing. It should be repulsive, but it isn't, not after all those months. In this crazy world, you can appreciate the strength and elegance Sukuna has. You can openly admire his fighting skills and his talent when it comes to the kill.

An hour later, you are on your way back to the hut. Sukuna got rid of all the remaining zombies in your old camp, and you collected all the food you could find, plus some more knives and clothes.

You fall in step beside Sukuna, walking at a leisurely pace. It feels almost like a stroll in the woods before the world went into chaos. The sun is warm on your back, bathing the forest in a pretty green light. You are clean and in fresh clothes, and your stomach is filled with water and some leftover stew you found in the camp.

For the first time since last night, you feel at ease.

But unfortunately, peace never lasts long in this new world.

You turn left at the next fork in the forest path, and without a prior warning, you step into the middle of a clearing filled with a herd of zombies.

It's a large group, too fast and too many. They probably got drawn here by the sounds of fighting last night.

Sukuna's hand grabs your arm, and he pulls you against his side, head jerking from left to right as he looks for the best escape route. But you can see that there is no escape.

You are already cut off from escaping to the sides.

"Shit! Hold on to me. We have to go back."

But as soon as you turn around to run back to where you came from, you realize with horror that the group got joined by another coming from the other side. And now you are trapped in the middle of a sea of zombies, which is slowly but gradually closing in on you.

Sukuna pulls you with him. Your eyes dart around hectically, searching for a way out. But the zombies are everywhere.

You are clutching your knife, ready to fight, even though you know that there are too many enemies. It's hopeless.

But then Sukuna tugs sharply on your arm, and you get pushed against a large tree trunk. At least that's what you think for a second, but then you stumble backwards as the tree gives in.

What you thought was a solid trunk is just a curtain of ivy hanging down over a large opening in the tree trunk. A cavity big enough to fit a person inside. Or two.

Sukuna joins you in the narrow space, pressing his tall body against you so both of you can fit inside. He hastily readjusts the curtain of ivy, hiding you away from the zombies. It barely covers the entrance. You can see the walkers rushing by just about a meter away from your hiding space.

Your heart is hammering painfully in your chest. Too close...they are too close! They will find you! You are trapped here with no means to escape!

Your breath is coming too fast, making you dizzy. Your panicked gaze meets Sukuna's.

"Wh..what are you doing?! We can't stay here. They are everywhere!! We have to move on, Sukuna!"

You whisper-scream at him as you try to leap towards the exit in your blind urge to run. But Sukuna's strong hands dart out, pushing you back against the back of the tree trunk and trapping you there with his tall, muscular body. His fingers tighten around your wrists painfully, holding you in an unrelenting grip.

His voice is soft but harsh,

"Stop it, brat! There is no escape route. This here is our only chance. We have to wait until they have passed through. Shut the fuck up, or they will find us!"

His eyes are burning into yours, pupils blown wide, face uncharacteristically pale. You can feel his chest heaving against you from his heavy breathing. He is terrified too, you realize.

Your wrists throb where Sukuna's fingers pin them to the tree trunk beside your face. Adrenaline is coursing through your veins, making your head spin. His words register, and you feel more panic well up. No escape? You have to stay here? Barely hidden from view in the middle of a whole crowd of the undead?

You don't want to make a sound, but a sob comes unbidden as the gravity of the situation crashes over you. Your body is trembling uncontrollably. Panic is threatening to drown you and make you do something stupid.

"I...Sukuna, please ...I'm ...I'm so scared...help me, please.."

You are sure you will lose your mind and tumble into another panic attack where your stupid body will betray you and make you scream or cry or do something else that will give your hiding place away.

Sukuna's maroon eyes dart from your eyes down to your mouth and back up again, and then right when you are about to break down, his lips crash into yours, muffling your scream with his mouth.

You are too stunned to do anything. Your breath hitches and your eyes widen even further. But Sukuna's mouth presses hard against yours, lips moving over yours in a savage, desperate kiss.

Your vision is filled with a pair of tattoed eyes staring at you from Sukuna's skin. His real eyes are closed, eyelids fluttering slightly while he kisses you.

You catch yourself thinking that he has really pretty eyelashes, and you stare at them as if the zombies out there will disappear if you just focus enough on the long black lashes and the filigree tattoed lines adorning Sukuna's cheekbones.

But then Sukuna's mouth opens against yours, and his tongue flicks over your lips, making you gasp softly. That's all it takes. Sukuna pushes his tongue between your lips, prying your mouth open, swallowing every sound you could make.

And suddenly, you are kissing him back, licking against his tongue just as desperately and hungrily as he is licking against yours. He is pressing you against the tree trunk, kissing you hungrily until all you can hear and feel and taste is him.

It's your lifeline. Something you can cling to. If Sukuna just keeps kissing you, you can drown out the horror of the world out there.

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you open your mouth further to kiss and lick and bite at Sukuna's lips. It's a wet, messy kiss. Tongues licking against each other desperately. Lips meeting with a bruising force here in the middle of a sea of zombies. Your teeth catch on Sukuna's bottom lip, and you bite it hard.

Sukuna's hands are still pinning your wrists against the tree trunk. He's caging you in with his strong body. Shielding you from everything else but him. There's only Sukuna and his lips and his body pressed against yours.

So alive. So human. So comforting.

You make it back to the hut unscathed.

The group of zombies moved on, probably wandering to your old camp. And Sukuna and you could step out of the tree trunk and continue your journey back to your temporary new shelter.

Not a single word is spoken on the walk back. A tension-filled silence settles between the two of you.

You don't know what to say. Thank you for kissing me out of a panic attack? It feels weird to even think about it. And it doesn't help that your lips are still swollen from the kiss. That you still feel your wrists throb where Sukuna held them so tightly.

Anytime you try to catch Sukuna's eyes, he just stares straight ahead, checking your surroundings for more walkers, focused on survival, or just unwilling to talk about what has happened in that tree trunk.

But the moment you step into the hut and the door closes behind you, Sukuna's maroon gaze fixes you with an intense look.

"Ok, now that we made it back in one piece, you can be mad at me all you want. In my defense, I saved our asses with that little action I pulled in the tree trunk. I'm not going to apologize for that. But punch me if you want. Here, have a swing at me!"

He points to his cheek, looking at you with a challenging twinkle in his eyes.

You stare at him for a long moment, flustered by his directness. It sounds tempting to punch him, to wipe that annoying smirk off his far too-pretty face.

But the thing is, you don't want to punch him. You want to feel the way you felt in those delirious minutes inside that tree trunk again when your head was spinning from Sukuna's kiss. You want to forget about the zombies and the apocalypse, if only for a little while.

Before you can stop yourself, your fingers already tangle in the front of Sukuna's stupid tank top, and you pull him into another kiss.

You catch him off guard, making this tall, muscular guy stumble into you so your bodies end up pressed tightly against each other again. But this time, Sukuna's strong arms wrap around you, firm hands grasping your waist and pulling you against him before his lips close over yours.

He is kissing you just as hard as in the tree trunk. Passionate and with a hunger that makes your head spin. A desperate-sounding whine escapes your mouth. You feel ashamed by how needy you sound, so full of longing.

And Sukuna laughs lowly against your lips in between those heated, breathless kisses, pulling away just enough to ask smugly:

"So, I take it you don't want to punch me, huh?"

"That was a...um, a thank you kiss."

"Yeah? Well, I'm glad we're alive too."

His voice is low, a seductive whisper against the side of your lip, and then that warm mouth moves to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses. You gasp, but it turns into a moan when Sukuna's teeth graze over your sensitive skin.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, marveling for a moment at how surprisingly soft it feels, and then Sukuna starts sucking on your pulse point, and you answer him by tugging on that soft pink hair and moaning his name.

And suddenly, there is no stopping the both of you anymore.

Your lips capture each other again in another heated kiss, sloppy and wet. Teeth are clashing, and tongues lick eagerly at each other. Your hands are frantically tearing at each other's clothes in their need for more skin contact.

You don't even make it over to the bed. Instead, you find yourself on the wooden floor of the hut, naked with a needy wet throbbing between your legs, hands tangled in pink hair as you pull an equally naked and riled-up Sukuna on top of you.

You are kissing hungrily, devouring each other like in the tree trunk. Needy and desperate. Hands and lips greedily moving over each other's bodies, needing more. More friction, more body heat, more human touch.

Sukuna fucks you right there on the dirty floor. Makes both of you hiss loudly when he pushes into you for the first time. There's no time to prepare you. Both of you are too horny, too desperate to wait any longer.

Sukuna stretches your pussy open around his fat mushroom head and then rams his whole hard length into you without hesitation, driven by the same feral need you feel too, to forget the hell this world is now and just lose himself in the feeling of your hot wet pussy.

He fucks you like no one else has ever fucked you. Hard and deep, making you gasp and moan and see stars because you think you will fall apart under him.

He is heavy on top of you, fucking you with savage hard thrusts. But you need it like that. Need to get fucked hard. You clutch desperately at Sukuna, pulling him closer, your nails digging into the muscles on his back, legs wrapped tightly around his narrow hips.

The small hut is filled with the sounds of sex, low grunts, harsh panting, and the filthy smacking sound of Sukuna's cock pounding your overly wet pussy and his heavy balls slapping forcefully against your slick skin.

He pulls out almost completely before he snaps his hips again to slam his thick girth back into you. Over and over again. The way Sukuna fucks you is urgent, hungry, almost brutal, knocking the air out of you.

Every hard thrust makes your ass and back slide over the rough wooden floor. But you can't bring yourself to care about the sting. You don't want him to slow down. You want him to fuck you even harder. Fuck away all your fear.

Please don't leave, please don't stop, please just keep my mind off all the bad things!

You moan Sukuna's name, and it comes out as a sob, desperate and needy, followed by a cadence of pleas.

"Sukuna...ah...yes harder, please fuck me harder...need you... I need you please!"

You are answered by a feral-sounding growl coming from Sukuna, and his mouth is on your neck, teeth closing around your sensitive skin, biting you as his pace becomes even more savage, making you gasp and cling to him tightly as your sweet spot gets tortured with hard, precise hits of his thick cockhead.

It's rough, it's dirty. Fucking on the floor with an animalistic, primal urge, void of any restraint.

A broken cry finds its way out of your mouth when the pressure gets overwhelming, and your body arches up against Sukuna's firm muscles.

Your pussy is spasming around his cock, and your nails leave deep scratches on Sukuna's back as an orgasm is fucked out of you that is so intense that you only see white for a moment.

You sob Sukuna's name, feeling tears run down your face as you squirt on his cock, messy and hot, unable to hold back as he keeps pounding your pussy with his unrelenting, brutal thrusts.

"Fuck!"

Sukuna groans loudly against your neck, which is wet from his spit and hot breath. And then he pushes himself off your body, sitting up and rolling his hips a few times more, watching as his slick cock sinks into your wet swollen pussy, stretching you open around his girth before he pulls out of you with a low groan.

You watch in rapt fascination as he wraps a hand around his thick, wet cock, pumping it in his fist with fast strokes while he kneels between your spread legs. He cums all over your stomach, covering your skin with his hot milky seed in several thick spurts.

Sukuna sounds hot when he cums, with low groans and heavy breathing.

Your gaze takes him in, staring at him as he kneels between your legs in all his glory, tall and muscular, black lines adorning his lean muscles, accentuating them beautifully. Abs flexed tightly, pecs taut with the strain of fucking you so hard. His long thick cock is still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his flushed dark pink tip glistening wetly from your slick and his cum.

He is a picture of perfection in this ugly and cruel world, like a dark angel fallen from heaven to come here and unleash his anger on those vile creatures. Brought here to keep you safe and give you hope.

Sukuna's gaze meets yours, maroon eyes glittering so enticingly with that burning passion as he leans over you.

You shudder in pleasure when he runs two fingers through the trail of his hot cum on your skin and then brings them to your lips and pushes them inside. His pretty eyes never leave your face while you suck the cum off his fingers.

When his fingers finally slip out of your mouth again, they leave a wet trail of spit on your lips and chin. A thin thread of cum and saliva still connects your lips to Sukuna's fingers for a short moment, and you stare at it in fascination until it tears.

The typical smirk is back on Sukuna's face as he sits back on his heels and runs a hand through his pink hair, smoothing the stray strands that fell into his forehead when leaning over you back out of his handsome face.

Your hazy mind is starting to catch up with what just happened and what you did, and you suddenly feel shy. You avert your gaze and try to close your legs. Your arms come up to cross in front of your naked breasts, trying to hide from Sukuna's gaze.

A soft chuckle is heard. Followed by one of Sukuna's large hands landing on your thigh and patting it. He tells you in a low, amused voice:

"No need to act shy now. We fucked on the floor. You ate my cum. My cock is still wet from your pussy. It's fine, trust me. We are in the middle of the apocalypse. This is the end of the world. There's no time to be ashamed. We should fuck a lot more and enjoy our last days. And it helped, didn't it? You feel better, don't you? Getting fucked your brains out helps, hm?"

"Do you have to say all this weird stuff, Sukuna?"

"What else should I call it? Was this a thank you-fuck? Like that kiss you gave me?"

"Maybe it was an I'm-glad-you're-here-with-me-because-I-would-be-scared-out-of-my-mind-if-I-had-to-go-through-all-this-alone-and-also-I-just-wanted-to-forget-all-this-crap-and-just-feel-good-for-a-few-minutes-fuck?"

Sukuna shrugs at your words, and there's an amused glint in his eyes. He looks softer, more relaxed, more like the college jock he is supposed to be. Who he would be if it weren't for this virus spreading through the world and turning everything upside down.

"Well, that's basically what I said. Fuck the apocalypse away for a little while."

He grins at you, looking boyish and charming when your gaze meets his. And when he winks at you, you suddenly struggle to keep the laughter in.

The same amusement is mirrored in Sukuna's eyes, and before you know it, he starts laughing.

A genuine heartfelt laugh. He sounds younger when he laughs like that, more like his brother somehow, less intimidating. You catch yourself joining in, breaking down in giggles, rolling onto your side, and holding your belly from laughing so hard.

You can't even say why you are laughing so much. You know you should stop. You know it's stupid and delusional. And yet it feels so good. It feels so good to let go for a few minutes. To just fuck and laugh and feel like a normal human being.

When your laughter has finally died down, you smile at Sukuna,

"You can have the bed tonight if you want."

But he shakes his head.

"You can sleep first, princess. I'll wake you up in a few hours so you can take over the watch."

His gaze travels over to the bed, and suddenly his eyes widen, and he crawls over, pushing a long muscular arm under the bed. And when Sukuna pulls back, he's holding up an axe.

A big triumphant grin spreads over his face.

"And tomorrow, I'll build us a fence!"

Thank you so much for reading chapter 2!! I used to call the characters in TWD stupid when they had risky sex in that fucked up world, but writing this story made me understand. I am sure getting dicked down by Kuna really helps a lot to take your mind off all that crazy stuff :)

The tree trunk scene was inspired by a scene in TWD where Carl and Enid were hiding from zombies in a large tree too. They didn't kiss in the show, but I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for Sukuna to shut reader up with desperate measures. I think he did great. Thank you for all your hard work, Sukuna! You are the best!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs make me happy!

Chapter 3

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna fluff #tw blood

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sinon36 · 24 days

Text

Echoes of Salvation: The Deal (Part I). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader (Zombie AU)

Part II

The story starts after the dash.

Warnings: some gore, some mistakes, some bad writing (eh… we all have to start somewhere), not proof read, some independent woman surviving on her own without the need of help from men (cause I like self reliant women and people in general, they are a great inspiration to us all, really).

Disclaimer:

Dear readers,

Please be kind. This is my first fanfiction ever that I wrote and posted, so please be kind and overlook any potential inaccuracies, mistakes, grammatical errors as I’m not a professional writer and also English isn’t my native tongue. Though I have studied British English I am sure I haven’t really managed to accurately portray the British way of speaking, so please, feel free to point out anything that might poke you in the eye while reading this.

Also, I would like to tell you that this fan-fic is the love child of my obsession with our favourite masked man Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, and my love for anything zombie apocalypse or world-ending alternate universe or actual universe. Tbh If I wasn’t a poor student I would probably be a prepper, just like Frank from HBO’s TLoU. Most likely will be. I’m a little weird like that, you’ll see more in the future.

To close this little rant, I hope you’ll enjoy it, even if it’s short, I would really like to continue this if you deem it worth it enough. This will probably be a slow-burn kind of romance: 1. because I’m a sucker for the kind of slow-burn strangers/enemies to lovers fanfics, and 2. because it’s more realistic, let’s calm the whore-y instincts and be reasonable people that don’t climb masked 6-feet-tall strangers like trees.

With everything said I do not own the Call of Duty character Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley (*whispers*Though I wish I did*) BUT I do own this piece of fanfic. Please don’t steal it. Repost it but please do give credit to other people’s work. You may notice some similarities to other fanfics, cause duh, I also read a lot of that, (isn’t that one of the incipient stages to becoming a fanfic writer?), but I would really like to give a shout out to the fanfic author that really inspired me to put fingers to keyboard and a fanfic into Tumblr, please, *drum rolls* a round of applause for @nsharks with her lovely fanfic ‘Bleeding Blue’. She’s really wonderful and you should really check her out.

Have fun reading and don’t forget to leave a comment or a heart. I wouldn’t mind suggestions of what to name Simons’ daughter. That would really make my day 😊

P.S. Sorry to all the fishing loving people out there, what I said was based on my impression of the fishing experience and should be taken with a grain of salt.

Yours truly <3

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.

The sky is cloudy above but some sunbeams break through to warm the crisp air this fine early spring morning. It’s a good time for fishing now that the water is warmer, they come closer to the bank in search of food. It’s a boring task after you arrange all your tools and launch the line in the water. It’s a game of waiting and watching for any small tugs or movement of the neon-coloured fishing line. You picked up fishing after a couple of months into moving here, when everything was a mess and so many repairs and renovations had to be made around the house. The guy from the tutorials you used to watch on YouTube talked about the calmness and relaxation fishing brought to him. Maybe you weren’t cut out to stand all day on shore and gawk like an idiot for hours at the thin plastic line submerged in the lake water. But you cannot deny the proud feeling catching a fish brought to you when the line finally went taught.

You try and ward off the boredom and instead try to focus on the warmth that spring brings after months of endless cold. The birds are singing in trees, preparing nests for future offspring, and the lake is calm, with bubbles on the surface indicating the abundance of fish. Life is good. Bellamy enjoys sunbathing next to you rolling in a patch of grass. Everything is peaceful. Nothing really happens here anyway. You close your eyes basking in the good feeling that overtakes you.

A branch snapping behind you wakes you from the meditation you have fallen into. You raise and turn from where you are crouched over your equipment. You come face to face with a strange figure.

‘Show me yer hands’ he tells you in a thick British accent, eyes focused on you and handgun aimed at your chest. He wears all black and a haunting white skull mask. He is tall, at least 6 feet tall, body poised to kill. In his other arm, you can see a little girl hugging his neck.

You slowly raise your hands. At your foot, Bellamy growls baring her teeth at the stranger sensing danger. You shush her grabbing her by the caller to keep her from attacking the armed man. You stand still watching in apprehension as the man studies you. You look at the ground where you left your backpack and your hatchet.

‘Don’t even think about it’ comes the gruff order. You nod trying to convey that you understand the situation. ‘There’s nothing in that bag worth a bullet’ you tell him in an even tone despite fear creeping down your spine. He hums in agreement. ‘And if you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it by now.’ He watches you like a hawk its prey. ‘So…’ you pause carefully measuring your words, ‘what it is that you want from me?’ he gestures you to take a few steps back and you drag Bellamy by her collar.

He kicks at the backpack spilling the contents. A bottle of water and a half-eaten sandwich, a hunting knife, and a rectangular box in which you keep the hooks, lures, fishing lines, and other small fishing equipment. He turns his gaze back at you and nods toward your dog. ‘Put a muzzle on it or I’ll shoot it’. your blood runs cold at the thought of losing your sole companion. You scramble to untie the scarf you keep tied around your wrist that you use to wipe away sweat from your forehead. You wrap the piece of cloth around the dog’s snout tight enough to not slip away. Next, the dark-clad man tells you to pack your fishing gear and collect your backpack, with one hand keeping it outstretched to the side and the other one grabbing at Bellamy’s collar guiding her forward. ‘Move. Eyes forward. Any sudden moves and I drop you.’

He walks a couple paces behind you. For how big he is you can barely hear him walk on the path. You can feel his gaze burning in the back of your head and the gun pointed at your back. As you start down the path you can make out the roof of your small house. Once you get at the gate you stop. ‘open it’ he instructs. ‘The key is in my right pocket’ you say slowly gesturing to said pocket. ‘Mhm,’ you hear him grunt. You slowly release Bellamy and fish for the key in your jacket’s pocket. You slowly take it out and put it in the keyhole turning it and opening the gate.

The familiar sight of your front garden does nothing to appease you in this situation. Bushes full of colourful flowers hug the narrow path toward the house. The wind catcher hung above your porch clinks melodically as a gust of warm wind catches on it. you take a few more steps on the stone path before you and you hear the gate closing behind you. What once was your safe space now traps you in with a stranger ready to shoot you or worse.

‘Tie the dog to that pole’ he orders you again. On your right, there is a small pole stuck in the ground. He throws a roll of paracord next to you. You don’t move at first. You had never tied Bellamy down before. You can’t even remember when you last put a leash on her. She likes to roam free and run around. The click of the gun behind you tells you that you have no choice. You drop the backpack and start to drag her to the pole. She tries to resist but you shush her and urge her to move. Once you finish tying her you turn towards the stranger. He nods towards the house and you start walking hands raised on either side of your head. Once you open the door he urges you inside.

‘Where do you keep the medicine?’ he grumbles urgently. ’Bathroom.’ you nod to the right of your living room. ‘Go get it!’ you don’t wait around you spring toward the white door. After a couple of minutes grabbing most of what you keep in the over-sink cabinet you emerge hands filled with gauze of all sizes and different bottled pills. You return to find the man placing the girl on the couch. She appears to be asleep. You almost forgot about her. She looks about 8-years-old. Brown hair is chopped short in a pixie cut. She’s wearing blue-washed jeans and a dark green hoodie that’s too big on her.

You watch as he peels the hoodie from her limp body. Underneath she wears a striped t-shirt, but what catches your attention is her left upper arm. Red stained gauze is wrapped around. You are still in your approach keeping a safe distance. ‘Was she bit?’ the words rush out in apprehension. From where he kneels next to her his eyes snap at you. ‘No’ he denies the implication of your words. ‘Put that on the table and go sit by the door’ You do as you're told eyes darting between the girl and the man. You drop everything on the coffee table and go sit by the entrance door hugging your knees. You watch as he works on bandaging the kid. Your eyes are glued to the girl’s arm.

Even though you lived so far out into the wilderness you saw pictures on the internet of bites from the infected. You read the posts of the survivors and heard the news broadcast on all channels. Then everything went quiet. The cable didn’t work and your phone had no signal. You knew shit hit the fan and that it was serious. Then, a few weeks later you saw your closest neighbour, Neil, an elderly farmer who lived about half a mile further up the river’s bank, growling and stumbling trying to catch Bellamy who was running scared towards you. You tried to talk him out of the trance-like state but to no avail. He kept stalking towards you, ready to take a bite out of you. You tried to tell him to keep his distance and warned him that you would protect yourself. The rest was a blur. You faintly remember grabbing the hatchet that you used to cut down logs for your stove. And then the struggle with the man, Bellamy barking, you crying out pleas for him to stop. In the cacophony of noises, you hit him with the blade right in the neck. The next thing you knew, your neighbour lay in a pool of dark blood hatchet still. It took you a while to register what you have done. You just killed a man. You couldn’t forget the way he lay there, on the gravel, hands stretched outwards bloodshot eyes staring emptily at the sky. That was the first time you encountered an infected. You distinctly remember the fear and adrenaline that took hold of you. The feelings that gripped your heart so tight and that made you take a life take over you as you watch the little girl, possibly infected, unconscious but on her way to the same madness that turned Neil into a savage monster all those years ago.

'She's feverish. You got meds or something to bring the fever down?' his question brings down from your rising panic at the thought of being stuck inside with a possible infected. ‘There should be some anti-inflammatory pills and some antibiotics. They are out of date but they could still work.' He grabs hold of the med kit you brought. He sorts through the drugs checking the expiration dates. When he comes across the antibiotics, he studies the pack carefully, his eyes darting back and forth from the label to the girl. 'How much can I give her?' he asks with a hint of concern his stern facade crumbling slightly.

You look at him unsure what to say. Those pills have been bought before the start of the outbreak. You doubt expired drugs have any effect anymore. You refrain from saying that though. He is stressed, he might take his anger on you. ‘She’s a kid, you mumble, so, about half of each.’ He carefully considers his next action. ‘She’ll need water to take them, you add from down the floor. And some food…’ He nods in understanding. ‘May I?’ you don’t know why you offer this stranger help. First, he disturbs you from catching dinner, next, he threatens to kill you and your dog, now he takes over your house and medicine. But you can recognize the desperation in his look, the way he fumbles with the packaging. He is a parent trying to save his kid. Even though you don’t have any of your own you recognize the parental instincts, the same ones you exert on Bellamy.

He looks at you unsure of what to do. He surrenders in defeat and nods at you to go on. You rise to your full height, which doesn’t add up to much compared to him. You walk past them all the way to the back of the living room where you disappear behind a white door. After a couple minutes, you reemerge from the kitchen with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of steaming vegetable soup you made this morning. You slowly approach the couch watching him for any sign that you might cross a line. Instead of any aggression he takes a step back and allows you to go closer to the girl. You place the bowl and the glass on the coffee table and kneel next to the couch.

The girl opens her eyes and looks at you with distrust. Like father like daughter… you think to yourself. But you try to smile at her try to reassure her. ‘I brought you some soup, love’ you say in your most sincere and kind voice. ‘You must eat a little and then take some pills that will make you feel better’. You try to persuade her. She stares at you for a minute then at the man. They are suspicious of you and they have all the reason to be. You are a stranger to them as much as they are to you. Funny you are in the position to try and win their trust in your own home. You take the spoon you brought for her and dip it in the bowl. You take a spoonful and hover it close to your face blowing a little over it and then you swallow it. You can’t help the little moan of appreciation for your own cooking skills. ‘See? It’s good.’ You look at her with a small smile.

You don’t know where this came from; you blame it on the 6-foot-tall armored stranger whose stare drives daggers at the back of your head and your desire to keep your head on your shoulders and all your blood in your body. You don’t outright hate kids but you were never good around them. With a sigh, she sits upright and takes the spoon from you. She eats slowly. You keep watching her. She is a pretty kid. She has blue eyes and freckles on her small button nose. You wonder if she looks anything like the man behind you. She is pale and sweat collects on her little forehead most likely from her fever. She eats half of the soup you brought her and then turns her gaze towards the man. He hands her the two halves of the pills. She takes them in her small hand and grabs the glass. She hesitates. ‘It’s okay’ you reassure her and with a nod, she puts the half tablets on her tongue following up with large gulps from the glass. She scrunches her little nose in disgust at the chalky taste. ‘Atta girl’ you hear him utter from behind you. ‘Now lay down and rest.' he says to the girl in a stern yet gentle voice. He watches her nod and lie back on the couch her eyes half-lidded. He sighs, 'Good for now. ' he mutters under his breath. His eyes are fixed on her as he gestures to you. 'Come with me.' You rise from the floor and follow him outside the front door.

He leads you outside. When you cross the threshold, he takes a deep breath and a look of relief washes over his stern features. He gestures for you to sit on the front porch with him. 'We need to talk...' 'Yeah' you say crossing your arms defensively over your chest and standing as far away as the length of your porch allows. you take a moment to study him as he fixes you with a cold stare. You notice the many pockets on his vest and belt. A patch on his chest reads S.A.S. He's ex-military, you muse. His uniform makes much more sense now. But the mask still unnerves you.

He leans against one of the wooden porch support beams right hand hovering on the pistol holster. You think it's an act to intimidate you, to remind you that he is still armed and ready to strike you down in your own home. You stare at him a little defiantly. You’ll be damned before you let this weirdo intimidate you on your turf. He studies you from head to boots and back up. You sigh and square your shoulders showing him you are not afraid of him. ‘I’ve been watching you.’ He tells you in a matter-of-fact tone. You try to suppress the surprise on your face. You look down at his boots avoiding his icy gaze.

He’s been stalking you, and the realization dawns on you. You didn’t even notice his presence around the house. Stupid, you think to yourself, I’m growing complacent. But not even Bellamy caught his smell and she usually barks when someone or something comes close to the house. But earlier at the lake, he took you both by surprise. He’s good at keeping his presence concealed, you have to give it to him. You nod to yourself in understanding. He probably knows the layout of your house by now, he knows you are alone, and he waited for you to be outside and ambush you. You start imagining all the horrible things he could have done to you. But no, he instead approached you, gun pointed at you, nevertheless, when he could have already killed you and taken over your house by now. You hum and make eye contact with him.

‘Why keep me alive then?’ you ask him without beating around the bush. You study his mannerisms trying to catch something, anything to prove you he’s human. But he’s as unreadable as a statue. His gaze remains fixed on you, unblinking and stoic. You feel him studying you, taking in every detail of your person. He seems intent on reading into your every move.

In an even tone, he answers, 'Because you’re not a threat.’ His response catches you off guard, ego a little bruised at that, but you can’t argue with his logic. If he wanted to, he could have killed you by now, that’s for sure. You remain silent for a moment, processing his response. ‘But that doesn’t mean I trust you.’ He adds kicking off the beam and taking a step closer to you. He looks down at you tilting his head a little like a bird of prey watching a mouse, waiting for it to give chase and make the hunt more fun. You don’t give in to the urge to run inside and hide in your bedroom. Instead, you take a step towards him and look up at him ‘Because you need me’ you speak quietly. You can imagine a raised brow under that mask. You smile in triumph; even though he acts tough he needs help and all the intimidating façade was in a desperate attempt to get it.

‘I get it’ you continue having him figured out. ‘Your kid is sick and out there dangers are lurking at every turn. You need a place to stay until she gets better.’ You finish voicing your theory on why he’s really here having this conversation with you. His eyes closed in defeat. Gotcha, you smile even more widely at your deduction. ‘You can stay, you say as you turn and walk down the three steps of your porch heading towards the gate. ‘On one condition, you add stopping in your track. You turn fully towards him and he watches you curiously as if you’d have any power to demand him anything. ‘No harm comes to me or my dog’ you say remembering his earlier threats of him offing you both. ‘Do we have a deal?’ it’s not unreasonable, though it irks you that you have to bargain for your safety with a stranger. ‘Deal.’ He says in his usual gruff voice nodding to you in sign of respect for your demand.

‘Good’ you say as you stalk off towards where Bellamy lays muzzled and tied like a prisoner of war. You free her and she jumps at you happy to be in your proximity. She must have been worried sick here all alone. Poor thing. You then go to the gate and slide the too-large bolts meant to keep any unwanted guests outside. Or inside in your case. ‘And to think nothing interesting ever happens around her, right, Bell?’ your rhetorical question is met with a bark of agreement.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #zombie au #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty #slow burn #simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic

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made-this-cause-why-not · 4 months

Text

Gen V Drabble, Word Count: 588

When Marie heard the news, she was inconsolable. The headlines were everywhere: Vice President Victoria Nueman and daughter Zoe found dead. The story was terrible- the two had been killed at the dinner table, lasers slicing their bodies. The headline came a week after Victoria agreed to help. Three days after the virus went missing from her bunker. Sixteen days before Zoe’s fourteenth birthday. Marie and Jordan had already bought her a gift- two tickets to ‘The Seven on Ice’.

Jordan hadn’t tried to understand, they were just there. Together they and Emma held her as she cried. Sad at the lost her second family. Angry that it had happened. Frustrated in the fact that she could do nothing.

Butcher hadn’t been as hurt. When he saw the news he had just sighed and said that they needed a change of plans. Everyone had stared at the man, shocked by his lack of empathy for their newfound ally. Hughie offered condolences on the man’s behalf, stating Butcher was always an ass and that she shouldn’t take it too hard. Everyone else was sympathetic, with Kimiko even offering her a sad smile and a strong hug.

A change of plans had apparently meant raising the dead. Two weeks after Victoria’s death, a mere 3 days after her funeral, Queen Maeve had come to headquarters. Not the Maeve that Marie had read about in books or seen in interviews, a supe that was strong, confident and took no prisoners. No, this Maeve was different. Still strong but in a way that seemed less from being untouchable and more from being touched living through it. This Maeve carried a gun everywhere, always sat facing windows, and wore an eyepatch.

When Marie first saw her she was shocked by the woman’s existence. She was wearing a sweater and jeans and holding two duffle bags, one for her and one for Elena- a woman whom Marie would meet later. Maeve had looked over to where she was sitting with Jordan, Cate, Emma and Sam and whispered something to Butcher. The conversation was short and ended with Butcher saying something that sounded a lot like a genuine ‘thank you’, something that Marie had never heard the man say in her two months of knowing him.

“I’m Maggie,” she introduces. Her voice was deep, something Marie wasn’t expecting after years of watching high pitched press junkets. “I’m here as a favor to Annie, and Annie only.” Eyes flickered to the blonde women typing away on a computer. Though she pretended not to listen, Marie could see faint blush coat her cheeks. “I’m going to try and train you guys on how to kill Homelander.”

Marie's heart leapt at the words, looking to M.M for confirmation. The man avoided her eye and Marie focused back on Maggie. “You’re not a supe anymore,” Marie comments, staring into her bloodstream.

“Yeah, no shit. I had a chance to kill Homelander, to really get rid of him for good.” Maggie lets out a deep sigh, shutting her eyes tight. “But I didn’t. I took down Soldier Boy, and risked my life for that piece of shit, and hundreds of others.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “All because fucking Kansas over there.”

Annie turned in her chair, her face apologetic. “Maggie, I wouldn’t have asked if-”

“It’s fine, just…it’s fucking fine.” From beside her, Elena places a soothing hand on her arm. Maggie took a deep breath, before looking back at the group. “No going back now kids.”

(If you like this concept, check out "Maggie Shaw's School for Disgraced Superheroes" by WithFireAndIce on AO3. I wrote this before they posted their work, and would rather read their writings than write anymore on this)

#gen v #limoreau #mariejordan #jordan li #marie moreau #maggie shaw #queen meave #billy butcher #the boys #drabble #just a silly little fic I wrote

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bowsonmyblunts · 3 months

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Mercenary

The dimly lit ceiling light burned a soft pink through your eyelids. You didn't want to wake up, not yet,

Your whole body bolted forward to the ice cold water that trickled down your body. You blinked at the shadow in front of you. Your handed down dark army green tactical vest drenched in water. "talk about rude awakening..." You grunted out squinting at the person in front of you; or more specifically people. "Whatever it is no. I'm not interested." You spit in a raspy voice looking down at your ashy black boots. Your hands shuffled against the burning ropes on your wrist.

"Come on Oliveria you haven't even heard what we had to say." Your eyes shot up venomously at the blue eyed women.

"Don't you fucking call me that Jill." Your voice was small but dangerous. Your eyes darted around the room: Rebecca Chamber, Chris Redfield, Claire Redfield. Jill opened her mouth to spit an insult at you but any irritation in her body left as she saw the gilt of Carlos in your eyes. You saw the way her eyes softened. You sighed and rested your arms on the top of your vest.

"Whaddaya want?" Chris's eyes widened and he swiftly brought his hand to his gun. Claire quickly grabbed at him and shook her head.

"We need help," She hands you a folder.

Twelve cases wherein people had died after being mysteriously infected by an advanced strain of the T-virus and were found with needle marks on their bodies.

Claire followed your eyes interrupting as you had gotten the gist of the operation.

"I discovered an orca infected with the same T-virus strain as the victims from Chris's case swimming near the Greater Farallones National Marine Sanctuary, which there had also happened to have been several missing whales." She handed you another folder; this containing photographs. Your face remained still as you looked over the grotesque imagery. Your eyes caught the name of an island.

"The victims had visited Alcatraz Island before they died..." You finally concluded. Jill nodded slowly and cautiously. She knew that if you refused they'd barely be a chance they would make it out alive without a serious amount of casualties. The tension around was thick. You stood up and dusted off your clothes.

"Alright let's do this, and maybe next time you could just tap me on the shoulder, thought I was gonna get tortured or something." You grinned walking through them and out the door.

SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED just wanted to write down this idea sorry i know the beginning is a little shitty, I changed my idea

Another short story cos I have no motivation to write a full one. maybe part 2 with leon.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #jill valentine #chris redfield #reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader

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causeimhappinesss · 2 years

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Body heat - Chris Redfield x reader

Request: Can you do a hate sex with Chris redfield x reader?

Warnings: smut + wrap your biscuit, please

Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for eleven fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)

***

Love was something particular. It could send jolts of happiness or break you in every way possible.

When Chris was younger, he was a heartbreaker, he would just have sexfriends and not give a shit. He thought he wasn't made to be in a relationship and many women hated him for that. Even with Jill, and all the sexual tension around them, he never made a move, because of the fear of breaking their friendship. Yet, he did try to be in a relationship with someone, but each time, it was a failure for the simple reason that these women didn't have the same pace of life as him. They blamed him for never being around, for being too tired to do a lot of things. They didn't understand him. He was just a sort of coin purse in their eyes.

The years passed and the hookups followed. Romantic, isn't it?

The missions, too.

During his career, he had seen enemies and colleagues.

Y/N was... special. She was the partner he avoided the most, because she annoyed him so much. She annoyed him because she was often right. She didn't see things in black and white, she saw in grey. She was able to mitigate all situations. Even the enemies, she always found a reason for their actions. Even Wesker! What had she said last time? "Oh, you know Chris, he was raised by Umbrella. How can this man have been an angel? Who's to say we wouldn't have been the same, in his place?".

She was confident and talented, into the bargain. He loved seeing the way her hips rolled, just like her butt, and watching the way a bead of sweat could roll down her delicate epidermis, between her breasts, after a long workout or stopping a bioweapons salesman. In short, she was hot and sexy. Yet he hated her for the little cutting remarks qhe she sent his way.

"Come on, Chris! I understand you're close to retirement, but you could go faster!" or "Stop looking at me like you're gonna pounce on me... Well, pounce, but not in that way at least."

She was doing everything to drive him crazy.

Now they were on a new mission, in the middle of winter, in Estonia. It had been a long time since Chris had been confronted with such a bitter cold. The snow never stopped falling and while it provided them with breathtaking scenery, the cold was biting his skin. Around them, blood soaked the beautiful white coat that covered the greenery and the asphalt. This little village was, shall we say... wild. Like the mission in Leon, Spain, in 2004. As much as to say, the villagers hadn’t been very welcoming. Not to help, you had no choice but to cross a frozen lake, on foot, taking huge risks. A few meters before you reached dry land, the ice gave way under your feet and you sank into the icy water. You had felt as if thousands of blade blades were sinking into your bodies, so painful was it.

"I told you we had to go around!" shouted Chris, annoyed.

You were walking along, shivering, just out of the lake. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, despite your uncontrollable teeth chattering.

"And we would have lost a good two hours! Stop yelling!"

"We could literally freeze to death! You don't realize!"

This time you were wrong, but there was no way you were going to admit it to inflate Chris Fucking Redfield's ego.

"Shut up, Redfield, or I'm gonna put one of your cigarettes in your ass, lightened up, so you won’t have to complain anymore about the cold!"

He huffed loudly like a teenager, while you just ignored him.

Soon, you met an old man, a survivor of this massacre, who had not been contaminated by the virus, since he lived far away, between the village and the laboratories you had to inspect, in the hope of finding those responsible for this plague. That good man had left you his little wooden hut and lit the fireplace in his small living room to keep you warm, with animal fur coats, much warmer than your clothes. You were ahead of your mission and had time to spend a few hours in the warmth, the time for your clothes to dry as well as you, otherwise death would come and take you.

When you returned to the living room, wrapped in furs, you saw that Chris had done the same thing. You found yourself naked underneath and despite the warmth of the room, you were still shivering from the cold. With an expert glance, you noticed that your partner was shivering as much as you were. You sat down next to him on the sofa and observed his features, as well as the part of his torso that was revealed to you. You had seen him shirtless countless times, but you couldn't believe that a man of his age could still be so handsome and attractive. Too bad he was just a stubborn man who refused to trust you and listen to you.

But as the evening began, you had to put aside the acrimony between you two. You were both frozen and you knew of only one more solution, at this point... Delicately, you moved closer to him, until you glued to him.

"What are you doing?" he sighed, before turning his head towards you.

You plunged your gaze into his and offered him your most innocent look, while one of your hands caressed his biceps.

"I'm cold, so I'm trying to warm up."

"Mmmmh..."

Delicately, you let the furs slide over your shoulders to expose them and create a plunging neckline on your chest, while you revealed enough of your thighs. Of course, his eyes followed your movements and you noticed his breathing quicken.

"Y/N..."

"Chris..." you teased him, mimicking him.

"What game are you playing, exactly?"

"The one where we warm each other up."

He parted his lips, somewhat surprised and shook his head, when he understood what you were getting at.

"Nope."

"I'm not asking you to make love to me. I just want us to be able to stick together to increase our body heat."

"Fine." he grumbled.

Without a warning, you climbed astride his upper thighs, at the edge of his crotch and removed the furs that were a barrier to your skins. A mischievous smile appeared on your face when you noticed that he was half hard. With the help of the blankets, you locked yourself inside them with him, and you placed your bare chest against his chest. Gently, you slid your hand down his chest. Suddenly, a heat spread in your lower belly. The man came to stroke the bottom of your back, at the limit of your buttocks.

"I think your thick and long friend down there like me, unlike you..." you whispered in his ear.

As an answer, he groaned, while you shifted a little, now your womanhood close to his friend.

"What if I do... this."

You started to roll your hips, your pussy grazing his hardening cock. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, probably wrestling against himself to prevent his dick from getting hard... But it was too late.

Suddenly, his thick calloused hands grabbed your hips and he pushed you against his cock.

"You wanna play, Y/N? Let's play!"

His hands forced you against him, making you shudder as sighs of desire escaped your lips. You could feel yourself getting wet and now, he was completely hard. Without mercy, he placed kisses on your neck and chest, before nibbling your skin, especially your hardened nipples. Yet you kept moving on his cock. One of his hands titillated your swollen clit with an expert touch that made you roll your eyes in pleasure as your hips continued to undulate on their own. The bastard was even more talented than you'd imagined...

"Fuck... Chris..."

"Shut up, L/N."

You bit your lower lip, as he was relentless on your clit, bringing you close to an orgasm... Until he stopped, removing his fingers.

"What the...?"

"We're playing according to my rules now. You don't get to orgasm." he groaned before he made you lay on the couch.

"Jerk me." he ordered with a stern voice.

You looked at his thick veiny cock, red at the tip, begging you to be touched. When you took him in your hands, starting to stroke it, it twiched and Redfield sighed. You started to jerk him, looking at him in the eyes, as a provocation, with a mischievous smile.

"I hate you, but you're so fucking hot and perf..." he stopped himself and groaned.

"I can't wait for you to fuck me, Redfield."

You played with his cock, straightening in order to give him a blowjob, but he made you lay again. Before you could understand what was happening, he got your legs bending on your belly and pushed his hard cock inside you. You moaned at the same time. It felt so good, amazing.

He began to pound you with his back, faster and faster, making you moan with pleasure, so much so that you forgot the existence of the old man, who had gone to look for some wood, close to the house. You slid a hand over his stomach and watched the way his muscles rolled over his skin. He was incredibly sexy, you couldn't deny it. The way he was fucking you, he was bringing out his resentment and that made the sex better! He was almost brutal.

"You're so big..."

"And you're so fucking tight... Feels amazing... You don't deserve this amazing pussy."

His eyes closed tight, his hair wet and beads of sweat mixed with the water from the lake, he looked like a demi-god. His long, thick cock kept thrusting inside you. The pleasure was more and more powerful, intense. You moaned his name as if your life depended on it. He was touching the best point in you, bringing you closer to your orgasm again. The brutality of his movements indicated that he was also getting closer to his climax. The sound of skin slapping together echoed through the living room. About to cum, he pulled out and sent you a victorious smile.

"Oh Redfield, don't play something like that with me..."

You smirked and grabbed him by the hips, forcing him to impale you again with a grunt. To prevent him from breaking free of your grip, you dug your nails into his back.

"Don't stop... Make me cum, finally show me you're a man!"

Considering the insult to his masculinity, he picked up the pace and this time, the orgasm overwhelmed you. Your whole body shuddered. Your screams of pleasure echoed through the house. Your tight vagina tightened around his cock, drawing ragged moans from him. His cock twitched as he squeezed your thighs harder. Finally, he poured into you in five hot streams of cum, spurting against your walls.

"Fuck... fuck.... fuck..." he groaned.

He stayed inside you for a moment, gazing into yours as you smiled.

"I can confirm, you may be a man... But you'll still have to prove it to me, so I can be sure..."

Slowly, he pulled out and watched his seed dripping out of your vagina, the sight was so erotic that he was ready to torment your vagina once again.

"So fucking hot... And we still have time for another round."

Hate sex was always the best. And if love was something particular, sexual attraction towards the person that annoys you is something indefinable.

***

Hey, readers! I hope you liked it! Also, I created a ko-fi account with small commissions at $1, $2 and $8 to support me and my work or tip me here since I'm broke😊💜

My Ko-fi: carolinemertz

My AO3: BetrayedWriter

My Instagram: carolinemertz_

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield #chris redfield x you #ethan winters #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #Resident evil fanfic #RE fic #re8 village #chris redfield headcanons #resident evil headcanons

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shygalaxygirl · 1 year

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Raccoon's downfall (Leon Kennedy x-reader)(Introduction)

I hope you guys, enjoy! (^.^)

Warnings: mature content, descriptions of blood & gore, zombies, death, & violence.

(Y/n) swiftly pushes the steel double doors ahead of her open with some difficulty as she continues to race down another narrow corridor located on the second floor of the underground "Hive" facility from which she just escaped. She can still feel the virus those disgusting scientists working under Albert Wesker's command injected her with rushing throughout her veins, and her loud heartbeat is so fast that it almost drowns out the unnerving echo of the undead chasing after her.

She immediately cusses under her rigid breathing as she realizes that's too many turns and twists for her to search the building for an actual entrance to Raccoon city in her current situation. She immediately wishes that the accidental bite mark she had gotten from helping her father with an infected earlier had killed her or that Albert Wesker had shot her in cold blood instead of her father.

But even now, after going against the Umbrella corporation and rejecting her father's career choice only a short time ago, she knows that she made the right decision much too late now. She realizes that the virus will spread like wildfire throughout Raccoon City. Her home city will be overrun with infected and everyone must choose to fight for their own survival or join the infected by inexperience in common sense and defense.

The charging footsteps along with the inhuman sound effects directly behind her grow louder as if the zombies could easily overtake her at any given moment, her usual unfazed demeanor finally surfacing to reasonable terror.

She doesn't want to be killed in such a gruesome way by Umbrella's illegal experiments. That idea is very unfair and completely absurd. Albert Wesker had forced her father and herself to continue working on his project, despite the corporation telling him otherwise. He's responsible for everything happening right now and he'll most likely enjoy watching Raccoon city's downfall too!

(Y/n) swiftly turns to her left to find an emergency exit with a staircase leading to some sort of back alleyway to Raccoon city as she finally notices the main building's alarm going off. Suddenly, a large group of men and women wearing lab coats come from the other various exits in a hurry to no doubt get away from the infected. She sleathly blocks herself against the nearby wall while the herd that was once chasing her focuses their attention on those people instead.

She watches the infected attack some of her remaining co-workers for a few seconds as the hallway erupts into chaos with screams and cries of agony. She immediately turns her head away from the disturbing scene, pushing the steel door to the emergency exit open with a shaking hand. She quickly charges through the doorway and begins rushing down the flight of stairs leading to the back alleyway.

She runs down them, hoping that the virus or the infected haven't quite made it outside of the facility yet. She braces herself by glancing over her shoulder at what appears to be an empty staircase as the steel door closes shut behind her with a loud crash, locking it from the inside. There are no more footsteps or the infected coming after her for now. For now, she is safe. For now, she is alone.

(Y/n) finally reaches the last flight of stairs located on the side of the main building as she sprints through another steel door leading into what looks like a small storage room. The dim lighting of the single lightbulb hanging from the discolored ceiling casts a faint light on the cramped area, storage boxes and random junk piled up in a corner nearby.

She quickly scans over the discarded mess in search of anything useful, before grabbing a flashlight hiding between some boxes. She slips the object into a side pocket on her college backpack and turns her focus on the only remaining exit left.

She blows her long (h/c) bangs away from her emotional (e/c) eyes as she hears the final downfall of the Umbrella corporation's employees falling prey to the virus they created. They deserve to be reanimated as the terrible creatures they made after dying from such a brutal death. She still feels like her fate should be the same, but everything that's happened to her has been quite the opposite.

She immediately makes a vow to fix the problem she unintentionally released on Raccoon city in any way possible for the sake of her deceased father as she shifts the metal case containing the cure against her shoulder-blades.

(Y/n) quietly pushes the dented steel door leading into the alleyway open as she cautiously steps outside, scanning the area for any possible dangers. She immediately spots a pallet jack attached to a dumpster nearby and uses it to block the door.

She finally notices the faint echo of paws scraping against the concrete while realizing the set of organized dog cages placed at the end of the alleyway are practically gnawed to death. She hesitantly glances in the direction of the animalistic sound effects, her (e/c) gaze locking onto the disturbing scene of a zombie dog eating the remains of an Umbrella employee.

She shakes her head in disbelief at how fast the virus is spreading throughout Raccoon city as she carefully sneaks toward the fenced door leading away from the alleyway. She immediately grabs a crowbar sticking out of a large barrel nearby, slipping the metallic object behind the rusty hinge attached to the door.

She swiftly pries it open with some difficulty as the loud popping sound instantly alerts the dog. The animal suddenly bolts toward her, its bloodstained teeth bared viciously in rage, before lunging at her with a snarl.

(Y/n) dodges the zombie dog entirely by swiftly rolling to the other side of the fence and shutting the door right in its mutated face. It continues coming after her nevertheless, its slender yet agile body hitting the fence repeatedly. It bites at her hand that's keeping the door closed as she notices a handgun tucked into the holster on the waist of the deceased Umbrella employee.

She cusses under her breath for what she has to do next before brutally stabbing the zombie dog in the head with the crowbar. She drops the metallic object sticking through the fence almost immediately as the animal falls to the concrete. She pushes herself back up to her feet with the support of the fence, the once closed door slowly creaking open.

She cautiously re-enters the alleyway as she observes the mangled corpse of what used to be one of her father's co-workers. She frowns at how awful his death must have been, closing his lifeless widened eyes in respect. She instantly takes the handgun from the holster on his waist and loots his clothes for bullets before she can change her mind.

She swiftly stands to an upright position as she covers her face with her arm to gather what composure she has left, stepping a few paces away from the body. She checks the handgun's magazine to see how many bullets are in it before popping it back in place.

(Y/n) puts the extra case of bullets into her collage backpack as she casually takes off her bag and places it on the concrete. She slips her bloodstained lab coat off of her shoulders, discarding the evidence that she ever worked for Umbrella in the first place.

She readjusts her (f/c) tank top while fixing her (h/c) locks into a more appropriate hairstyle for her current situation. She picks her backpack up once more after taking the safety off of the gun and begins heading toward what she hopes is an undestroyed city.

#capcom #resident evil #leon kennedy #x female reader #leon kennedy x reader #albert wesker #raccoon city #zombies #apocalypse #t virus #umbrella corporation #outbreak #post apocalypse #zombie dog #fanfic #survival #strong female protagonist

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myhicalintrovert · 3 months

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The Sims 4 Adaptation of the 100 Baby Challenge Final Hope

Sims 4 100 Baby Challenge Final Hope (Originally Sims 3 100 Baby Challenge Final Hope by XSimSugar and Sims 3 Symbiote) I have updated this post to include recent traits added to the game.

*Trigger Warning Description of Fictional Illness*

Backstory of the Challenge: In the year 2020, a virus named “Bloody Frost” almost drove mankind to extinction. Bloody Frost took its victim swiftly commonly culling the victim within a week. Those with Bloody Frost appeared to have the skin color of someone who suffers from being dangerously cold, blood seeps into the lungs, and those inflicted with the disease had frequent coughs and often suffocated. By the time the Bloody Frost was finished only 6% of the world’s population remained. Those who survived Bloody Frost were immune to the virus. It took a short while for the leaders of the world (politicians, military commanders, rich people) to gather together and come up with a solution to repopulating the planet. The first thing the founders and leaders of Final Hope did was gather all remaining sims and evaluate them. Once the survivors were evaluated they were either sterilized and exiled or received treatment to increase fertility and put into compounds throughout the world. The ones sent to compounds are called Life Contractors; most of the Life Contractors were moved into cities and fewer were dispersed elsewhere. The women who were the most fertile and gave birth to the most healthy offspring were given precious prizes (almost always cash)

-The Challenge Rules-

Move the founder sim to a lot with no houses or apartments, this will start out similarly to legacy challenges. Keep in mind your founder will be able to build their own house after the birth of the first child. For every child born perfectly healthy, your sim will receive 25 simoleons. Every time a child ages up with the unlocked achievements your sim will receive 25 more simoleons a child. For infants, it would be gaining all of the infant achievements, toddlers gaining at least level three in all skills, and children + teens age up when they get an A in school. However, if a child does not pass the requirement to receive the simoleon the child never qualifies again. I will list an online spinning wheel to decide if the child was born healthy or not (I do not know if the link will work if it does not please tell me). If you have the adeepindigo health mod or Lumpinou's pregnancy overhaul mod that affects the risks of the sim's pregnancy then it is not mandatory to use the wheel link.

https://wheeldecide.com/?c1=Baby%20is%20born%20perfect%20and%20healthy%20&c2=Baby%20is%20born%20healthy%20even%20with%20the%20rocky%20birth&c3=The%20Baby%20is%20fine%20and%20the%20birth%20was%20worrying%20for%20a%20bit&t=Sims%204%20100%20Baby%20Challenge%20Final%20Hope&time=5

Supernatural sims are allowed though the scientists may select them for testing and there may be consequences to the testing.

https://wheeldecide.com/?c1=The%20scientists%20found%20nothing%20wrong%20you%20keep%20the%20child&c2=The%20scientists%20found%20something%20wrong%20you%20do%20not%20keep%20the%20child%20%28it%20dies%29&c3=The%20scientists%20are%20suspicious%20and%20are%20keeping%20a%20closer%20eye%20on%20the%20family%20%28to%20determine%20if%20other%20children%20have%20an%20anomaly%29&c4=The%20scientists%20change%20something%20about%20the%20child%20%28I%20will%20leave%20that%20up%20to%20you%20to%20decide%20what%20they%20change%29&c5=The%20scientists%20want%20to%20keep%20an%20eye%20on%20the%20child%20and%20keep%20them%20for%20a%20few%20days%20for%20observation%20%28roll%20again%20after%20a%20couple%20days%29&t=Sims%204%20100%20Baby%20Challenge%20Final%20Hope%3A%20The%20Offspring%20Had%20an%20Anomaly%20Detected&time=5

If you have the University Pack, your sim is allowed to go as long as they have the money to go to university, live at home to have children, maintain the best grades, and are going for a degree that would be utilized at home. Think of it as Final Hope training sims for their roles. It is up to the Life Contractors to raise the children. Final Hope seeks the most healthy and perfect children with minimal or no undesirable traits. You must randomize the traits. Too many neutral traits and the sim would be undesirable, and one undesirable trait would classify the sim as undesirable according to Final Hope. This includes but does not limit deformities and genetic issues. Once the children reach young adulthood, Final Hope will process and sort them. If the children are deemed “undesirable” they must be “gotten rid of”, and the children deemed acceptable will have to be moved out like young adults in the normal 100 baby challenge. Other than the already listed rules, this will pretty much follow the traditional rules for the 100 baby challenge.

-List of Traits According to Final Hope-

Desirable

Cheerful

Creative

Genius

Goofball

Romantic

Self-Assured

Dance Machine

Maker

Recycle Disciple

Foodie

Geek

Loves Outdoors

Active

Child of the Islands

Child of the Village

Neat

Overachiever

Perfectionist

Rancher

Animal Enthusiast

Bro

Family-Oriented

Generous

Good

Insider

Loyal

Non-Commital

Outgoing

Proper

Neutral

High Maintenance

Squeamish

Unflirty

Childish

Clumsy

Paranoid

Gloomy

Art Lover

Bookworm

Child of the Ocean

Freegan

Glutton

Green Fiend

Kleptomaniac

Lactose Intolerance

Materialistic

Slob

Vegetarian

Cat Lover

Dog Lover

Cringe

Horse Lover

Loner

Party Animal

Snob

Undesirable

Hot-Headed

Erratic

Ambitious

Adventurous

Lazy

Evil

Hates Children

Jealous

Mean

Nosy

Self-absorbed

Socially Awkward

If you have custom traits in your game, it will be up to you if they are desirable, neutral, or undesirable.

-Recommendations-

I do not recommend playing on a short lifespan. Mods are allowed as long as they do not speed up skill-gaining or violate the rules of this adaptation of the original challenge. MC Command Center and Wicked/Wonderful Whims would be good for this challenge. With Mc Command Center, you can go into the settings, and sims could have up to 6 babies at a time. Mods are really up to your discretion. I recommend playing with Growing Together, Parenthood, and Eco Lifestyle, though they are not required.

Let me know if I need to rearrange the placement of some traits' placement.

#sims 4 #sims #ts4 #the sims #sims challenge #sims 4 challenges #sims 4 challenge #ts4 gameplay #ts4 challenge #ts4 challenges #sims 4 100 baby challenge #sims4 #sims 100 baby challenge #100 baby challenge #ts4 100 baby challenge

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stevenbasic · 11 months

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GITJ Post 320: Friday Morning, Alone

That’s strange, right? I thought to myself, as another series of videos cued themselves up on my computer, from the news sites. It was Friday morning and - like what was happening more and more these days - I had a few empty slots in my schedule so here I was in my office, killing time. I’d been thinking about Melissa but she was busy out doing something with the construction in the new wing. I missed her and kinda wanted to talk to her but I understood there was a lot to do. Supposedly the work was going well, they were ahead of schedule, and we’d be opening sooner than they’d planned. When, exactly, Melissa wouldn’t tell me. She also wouldn’t let me over to see the new wings. She wanted it to be a surprise.

Anyway, yeah. The headlines, since the election, had obviously been strange. It was unavoidable, the news coming from Washington, across the country and, really, all around the world. These women and their new political party - which, I was starting to figure out, was more than just a US organization but had a structure of international leadership - had really taken some major victories and were running with them already. Congress was - even before the new class of Senators and Representatives took office - already preparing and in some cases moving on new legislation to make headway into New Woman campaign promises. Yikes! If I didn’t know how slow and ineffective government normally was at making actual change, it might be kinda scary! Because some of the planks of the platforms these women ran on were kinda out there haha. No way they’d ever be more than promises, of course, with the way government worked. Besides, there were enough checks-and-balances built into the system to keep anything weird from happening, right? Our Democracy was strong. Or so they always said.

Anyway, what was really strange was how these videos kept popping up on my screen, everytime I went someplace new on my browser. Some sort of virus? They were like little news clips about the election results, or campaign pieces from one victorious candidate or another, pushed out by someone who really wanted me to see them. Some kind of computer virus? Whatever it was I actually just gave up trying to be productive with work and found myself watching a few of them: at least our new overlords will be pretty attractive haha, I joked to myself. The new President-Elect, in fact, was featured in a bunch of them and yikes before today I really had no idea but she was, uh…vavavoom…

I found myself watching excerpts from a bunch of her speeches, a couple interviews, and some old fluff footage that had been put together giving some background on her, Marlee Martin. Mom of three, ex fitness- and figure-competitor from North Carolina, self-help guru and entrepreneur/business owner: even if she was surrounded by notoriously strong women and hardcore female empowerment advocates, she had obviously swept into office in no small part due to how unthreatening she could make herself appear. She had a strong but certainly feminine, flirty and accessible nature on camera. Though she was tall and physically fit she seemed to revel in her femininity and in all those old-fashioned habits that have always been so disarming to men. She was just enough of a Southern Belle to appear benign and wholesome, but obviously quick on the uptake and aware of her strengths. In short she had not been above using sex appeal on the campaign trail. I shivered thinking about what some of the pundits were voicing: who knows what will happen now, from the Oval Office?

The new President-Elect was decidedly on the side of female empowerment, though, and never presented as a bimbo. She was likable but resolute and she herself never spoke too militantly on the goals of her party. She never flaunted her intellect either. Instead she shrewdly identified as "a friend of the common woman…and man". A cliche platitude, maybe, and now I realize women voters had obviously seen that for what it was, an empty bit of retail politicking. Even now, as I speak, I can recall that after she was in office you could see her continue to be the cute public mouthpiece of "fighting for the rights of men" just as everything eroded at warp speed unimpeded in the opposite direction, with her foot secretly on the gas pedal. Ultimately, if I remember, she presided in a calculated and effective way over the historic transformation of a nation into one more and more dominated by female leaders. While she continued to promise vaguely and ominously that "I'll never let our men and boys be forgotten", in the end she pivoted hard with the rest of the free world and took more and more credit for all the gains made by women on her watch, while men came out on the short end of the stick.

But at this point in history she was, yes, a bit of “America’s Mom,” or more “America’s Soccer Mom,” just walking the finest line between cute and pretty and down-to-earth accessible but gorgeous when she needed to be.

Speaking of gorgeous…

It wasn’t just in politics. Women had been casually gathering more power everywhere these days and when Melissa stepped through my office door that morning, in six-inch heels and a short skirt, it struck me hard. I sat up straight, and felt immediately like I was in the presence of my superior. I’d recognized the feeling, and tried to shake it off. This is my girlfriend, I reassured myself, not my boss haha.

Girlfriend, yes, right. Our relationship, such that it was - me the older guy, she the hot young thing with the borderline-disabled IQ - had been up until this week plowing ahead full steam. The election results had cast a funny shadow, though, and things since our Tuesday evening together had seemed…off. I’d been privately stewing on the feeling that she’d taken physical advantage of me that night. Plus, she’d not only known that Lakshmi had recently, uh, eased me through a tough time but even encouraged the intimacy. That was weird, right? For a girlfriend to be that, um, magnanimous? I shouldn’t be complaining, I guess, but it made me uneasy. Melissa was probably here for our Friday morning coffee meeting, and maybe it was a chance for me to clear the air.

“Hiiiiiii sweetie,” she sang, stepping in towards me. As she walked into the room with that million-dollar smile, there was just enough jiggle under her buttoned-up silk blouse to stop my words in my throat. She brightened and seemed to stand taller as she saw my eyes take in the dramatic spectacle of her figure. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so busy,” she purred, beginning to come around my desk, “but I wanted to drop in for a good-morning-kiss.”

My heart fluttered. “…a-and our Friday meeting?” I stammered, expectantly.

“Oh, pumpkin, I’m sorry,” she cooed with a pout, leaning down and gently taking my chin in her hand, “but I don’t have time this morning. There’s a meeting with the city inspectors about permits that they want me to be at.” Her eyes sparkled with affection as she watched my eyes try for a glance down her top. “I don’t really know what we’ll be talking about, honestly,” she giggled in admission as her free hand charitably undid the topmost button of her blouse, “I think they just need me for eye candy.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” I stammered, caught in a wave of perfume that seemed to ease my mind and catching a generous glimpse of cleavage, “I was kinda looking forward to sitting down with you for a couple minutes?”

“Awwww that’s sweet,” she purred, her smile redoubling upon itself, cocking her head at me, “but how ‘bout we do it tonight? Instead of going out, let’s stay in. I’ll show you my new place, where I’m staying at my mom’s. I’ll get dinner and we can talk then, have our…meeting.” She watched my eyes take it in; she had plans for our date night and I was excited for the idea already. “Does that sound nice?” she asked, her voice sweet but full of promise, “Maybe I’ll leave work early, get ready for you?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” I agreed, heart already racing.

“Good boy,” she smiled and then, finally, leaned in for our good-morning kiss, a big one that gently smeared my face red with her fresh lipstick. After a big, final <MUAH!> she saw what she’d done, giggled girlishly and licked her finger to wipe me clean with her warm saliva. “We’ll have our Friday meeting date tonight,” she purred, “I’ll make sure I warm some milk up for you…”

===============================================

Thank you to TopographicSociety / @societytopographic for a good bit of inspiration and copy on this one

#growing into the job

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