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itawings

𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱, 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗸𝗮𝗸𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶!

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itawings · 5 months

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i just think that simon’s the type to stick his freezing hands underneath your shirt early in the morning because he doesn’t know how else to warm them up. it makes you squeak out a surprised gasp and you whirl to glare at him, blinking tired eyes at this big man who just presses his apologies on your temple before drawing you close, snuggling back underneath the sheets and letting the morning pass in silence.

you’re settling back into the fog when you feel his chest rumble, “g’morning, sweetheart.”

you huff a fond laugh, pressing a kiss on his chest, and whisper, “good morning too, big guy.”

i just think that simon’s the type prop you on the kitchen counter before ambling about to prepare breakfast. the kettle goes first (priorities!) then he trudges towards the fridge, grunting at the bright lights before glaring into it, forcing his eyes to focus.

you muffle your quiet giggles on the back of your palms, your legs swinging as you say, “i can cook f’r us, baby.”

he turns to you with a confused hum, still too tired to truly comprehend what you said. “what?”

you jump off the counter to walk towards him, curling your arm around his waist before leading him towards the island’s chairs. he sits without prompting, brows still furrowed in confusion, and you pepper kisses along his face before whirling around and taking over.

it’s when the aroma of coffee fills the space that simon blinks back to reality, mind racing to patch the broken recollection of the previous minutes.

he hugs you from the back, surrounding you with his warmth and bulk. “thank you, darlin.”

i just think that simon’s the type to want to have lazy mornings because it’s then when reality spills over: he’s home.

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itawings · 5 months

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Zombie! MW2 w/ a Human Sex Slave

Warnings: 18+, Monster Fucking, Zombie Fucking, Implied Initial Dubious Consent, Stomach Swelling, Cum Inflation, Unprotected Sex, Brief Worry of Infection, Rough MW2, Gentle MW2, Zombie! MW2, Human! Reader, Sex Slave! Reader, Captive/Captor Relationship, Implied Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Descriptions of Smut, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Zombie! MW2 who found you scavenging alone one day out in the wasteland, entirely unaware of their presence.

Zombie! MW2 who capture you soon after, not ones to waste time.

You were the first lone human they’d seen in months, and they’d be damned if they were going to let you slip through their fingers.

Zombie! MW2 whose intentions with you are unclear. Until you notice the bulge in their trousers and the purr in their groans as they watch you writhe against the restraints, watch you helplessly struggle against a fate they’ve already decided for you.

Ghost, König and Soap are the roughest with you, often the ones to just tear a your pants off when they’re desperate, filling you not long after.

They’re rarely gentle, instead opting to take you raw and use you for their own ends, slamming their hips into yours until you hear them release a guttural roar, emptying days’ worth of semen inside you.

Your first time with Ghost almost left you feeling like you were about to burst with how backed-up he was, his balls almost bursting and slapping the skin of your backside red and raw with each thrust.

He’d made sure to leave his mark on you, the prominent bulge in your stomach slowly deflating as his semen leaked out of you.

And while Soap and Ghost’s loads are somewhat palatable given how frequently they use you, König almost always leaves you feeling like you’re about to burst.

Given his height, he’s the biggest of all your captors. Not only that, but his cock is thick enough to leave you feeling like you have rocks in your stomach whenever he forces himself into you, his strokes long and pounding, making sure you feel every inch of him.

Price, Gaz and Alejandro are a lot more gentle, understanding that, while you’re human, you’re still fragile.

They’re soft and slow with their thrusts, giving you time to adjust to their size before continuing.

While they can’t talk, they do try to comfort to as best they can.

They’ll stroke your head, press their forehead to your shoulder (only to feel you tense beneath them, anticipating a bite) — anything to try and make you feel less like you’re a sex slave and more like a friend with benefits.

Of course, you worried the first few times they had their way with you that their pumping you full of their seed would infect you, turn you into one of them.

However, after weeks went by, you were still you. No rotting skin, no cannibalistic thoughts, no loss of autonomy.

But, much to your horror, you felt as if they’d infected you with an idea, a feeling.

That being that you enjoyed what they were doing to you, ravaging you, pumping you full of their load until they were satisfied and your stomach was swelling.

And while your sanity tried to reason your way through your acceptance — that you were being held prisoner by literal parasite-infested corpses — your mind, for better or worse, didn’t care.

Not when they were providing for you, bringing you food, clothes, blankets — things you were certain would be nigh impossible to obtain were you roughing it alone in the wastes.

Or, perhaps you were rationalising your willingness to stay here with them, to live as their human sperm bank, reduced to an existence of bending to the will of militant captors whose semen dripped down your thighs, whose hands forced your face into pillows or made you bounce on their cocks while looking at them, giving you a glimpse into their eyes, the people they once perhaps were: whose surprising stamina and strength left you whining, crying and almost begging for more whenever they finished, more often than not forcing orgasms out of you, too, making you push back into them, body willing to take every ounce of their cum and inch of their cocks.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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itawings · 6 months

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