Stars And Oblivion

Plaything

Cw: kinda dubcon, non-consensual blood drinking, non-explicit sex, dom vampire lady, not really x reader but not really an oc either?, she’s just a vessel for the freak shit, it’s all about the blood baybee

Leon watched her from across the bar, absolutely captivated by her. Everything about her was beautiful, the black hair that fell in tight ringlets down her back, her porcelain skin completely unmarked by stress or age. Everything about her was perfect.

He averted his gaze for just a moment and when he looked back up another man had taken the empty space at her side, a space he longed to be in, but knew he could never fill.

He couldn’t hear the words they exchanged, but he did notice the way she confidently lifted the man’s drink from his hand and finished it without flinching. The man ordered another round for the two of them and she accepted the drink from the bartender, waving her companion away as quickly as he’d joined her.

As the man retreats from her, Leon thinks he wants to take the man’s place, but the thoughts don’t seem to be his own, despite thinking about joining her before.

‘Come to me,’ the voice in his head whispers, and who is he to fight it?

He crosses the room and slides onto the stool beside her, making her turn to him and give him a smile.

Leon quickly realizes that there is something very very wrong with this woman. Everything about her is too much.

Her smile is too wide, her teeth too sharp, her painted lips are a feral shade of red, her scent is too intoxicating, her skin too perfect even up close, and her piercing gray eyes, they seem to capture his own and as badly as he wants to look away, he can’t.

“It’s nice of you to finally come over,” she purrs, her eyes softening ever so slightly, leaning back against her chair. “I thought you were just going to stare at me until one of us died,” she adds, laughing ever so slightly. “You’d be waiting an awful long time.”

Leon laughs along nervously, gesturing to the bartender. “Would you like a drink? On me.”

“Oh, no thank you. I just want to chat with you. I’ll admit, you’ve been driving me crazy all evening.”

He’s taken aback at her statement. She found him attractive? Her? Everything about the situation screamed at him to turn tail and run, but he was just so intrigued. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Leon took notice of the way her eyes lingered on his lips, her own parted so slightly, and he couldn’t tell if she was breathing at all, he certainly wasn’t.

“What’s got you so nervous, huh, sweetheart? I’m not gonna rip you apart,” she teases, lifting his hand and pressing her lips to the back of it, leaving a faint lipstick print. “Unless you want me to.”

Leon laughs nervously, completely unsure as to how to react to this woman at all.

“So, uh, what about me interests you,” he questions, tentatively taking her hand in his own.

“You seem like the type of boy I’d like to play with.”

The ends of Leon’s ears turn pink and he ducks his head away. She reaches out and grabs his chin, making him face her.

“Why so shy, darling,” she questions, staring into his eyes.

“I love you,” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately.

“Who doesn’t,” she laughs, stroking the back of her hand against his cheek as she releases him.

Leon stares at her, awestruck, for a moment before coming to his senses again, his blue eyes returning their focusing on her face. Had he really just said that? No way, he had to be losing it.

“We should get out of here, I’m getting bored of this place, you know,” she sighs, sounding horribly unamused.

“Ye-yeah, where do you want to go? We can go anywhere you want.” He’s aware of how pathetic he sounds, but he just can’t help it, he felt like he’d been stripped of his own will and hers had replaced it, like she’d ripped out his frontal cortex and replaced it with her very existence.

What was that one freak’s name? He shook his head. It didn’t matter, not now, not really.

“Take me back to your place, baby, she purrs, leaning down into his ear, nipping at his earlobe. “I’m gonna have some fun with you.”

“Okay, yeah, sounds good. My place.”

She holds her hand out and he takes it as he stands, keeping her steady as she slides off the barstool. She towered over him in her heels, and the sound they made as she walked echoed in his head, ricocheting off the inside of his skull and worming their way into whatever part of his brain was connected to his dick.

As soon as he unlocked the door of his apartment she was all over him, touching, squeezing, kissing him so quickly it made his head spin.

“You sure you’re not too drunk. I can drop you home if you are.”

“I don’t get drunk baby,” she replies, pulling him against her as she devours his lips.

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

“Okay.”

She grips his chin harshly, crimson talons digging into his jaw and he yelps, clawing at her wrist to no avail, and for the first time, he notices how cold her flesh is. “You’ll regard me with more respect if you want me to stay, understand?”

“Y-yes, Yes, Ma’am?”

“Good boy,” she praises, releasing Leon’s face and tutting as she rubs at the crescent shaped marks on his cute little face. “Please behave yourself. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Leon never thought something could chill his blood and turn him on at the same time, but here he was in front of the most terrifying, tempting woman he’d ever seen.

“So, where’s that bed of yours, hm?”

“Oh, that’s right, it’s this way,” he hums, taking her hand and leading her down the hall into the only bedroom in the apartment.

He closes the door behind the two of them and kicks off his shoes, watching as she makes herself at home, perching at the foot of his bed.

“Take your clothes off,” she commands, watching as he obeys without question.

She takes a moment, cocking her head as she takes him in, and then holds her foot out towards him, pointing her toe in his direction. Leon doesn't even need to be told what to do, making his way over and kneeling before her, carefully easing the heel off. He wasn’t exactly sure what the brand was, but he did know that the ones with the red on the bottom were the expensive ones. He then takes the other one from her waiting foot and carefully sits them down at the end of the bed.

Leon’s unsure of how to continue, but he wants so badly to please her, to keep her from just walking out, so he presses an unsure kiss to her ankle, earning him a sharp grin, urging him on. He kisses his way up to her thigh and then peers up at her, half expectant, half pleading.

“Well go ahead. I’ll let you eat me first if that’s what you’d like.”

His hands trail up her legs with uncertainty, sliding under her dress and pushing it up around her hips, fingers hooking into her pantyhose and carefully pulling them down. His face is between her thighs almost before he realizes it, and her hand comes down, gripping the back of his head, digging those claws into his scalp. A whine of protest falls from his lips, but she just doubles down, digging her nails in deeper.

The only response he gets from her the entire time is the spread of her legs and the occasional bit of praise, but aside from that she peers down at him with an almost unamused glare. Despite her indifference Leon keeps eating her out, his hips grinding against nothing as enjoys being between the legs of a woman this beautiful.

“That’s enough,” She growls, pulling him away by the scalp and practically tossing him to the side. Leon sits back on his heels and looks up at her, watching intently as she slips out of her dress and folds it, walking across his room and laying it on his dresser.

Some people looked better in clothes, and some looked better in the nude. It appeared that she’d missed the memo and decided she’d be perfect in any state of dress. Muscles ripple under her flesh like those of a leopard. Her skin was porcelain all over, no tan lines, no scars or stretch marks, just smooth, supple perfection.

“You look so pretty like this, such a shame.”

Before Leon can even question what that means she’s grabbed him and thrown him onto the bed. She’s on him in an instant, kissing and biting him all over as she sinks herself down onto his painfully hard dick. He lets out a pathetic sound and she wraps a hand around his throat and squeezes, her other hand pinning his wrists above his head while she rides him. Leon’s eyes widen in fear and his feet scramble for traction against the sheets. She just loosens her grip ever so slightly and shushes him, and it’s more than enough to make him relax under her touch.

Leon cums embarrassingly quick, but she doesn't seem to care, continuing to ride him until he’s a sweaty whimpering mess under her. He does his best to plead with her for a break, for just a moment, but his body’s on fire and his mind is quickly becoming a foggy mess. Before long all he can do is whimper and buck his hips up to meet hers, his legs trembling, chest heaving, he can’t even see her anymore, he can’t see anything.

The hand around his neck disappears and he stretches his fingers out to brush against her wrist, needing something, anything to ground him, to keep his mind and his body connected. A sharp pain takes the place of her chilled hand and he lets out a weak yelp, jerking away. Her cold hand grabs the side of his face, forcing him to stay still. He just gives in to the sensation, and the pain fades into a pleasurable throb, and then there’s nothing.

Leon wakes up the next morning tangled in his sheets with a pounding headache and a dull ache at the side of his neck and on his left wrist. When he sits up his vision swims and he has to fist the sheets to keep himself upright. A note rests on the nightstand. He picks it up and stares at it. ‘Hope you let me play with you again,’ it reads in what appears to be brown marker. He flips it to find a picture of himself asleep, or unconscious, based on how he was feeling at the moment. A groan falls from his lips and he falls backwards, letting himself go back to sleep.

When he wakes again it's well past noon. He crawls from his bed and heads to the bathroom. He’s so battered he can barely recognize himself. His vision is still fuzzy, but he can still see the crescent nail marks and hickies scattered across the expanse of his paler-than-normal flesh, some of them are recognizably human bites, the mark of each tooth deep and visible. They’re worst at his neck and wrist, both places are a deep blue and dried blood is smeared around the bites.

How the fuck was he going to hide any of this? He was never going to let himself think with his dick ever again, but part of him was hoping he’d run into that strange woman again.

like a solid 60% of weird fandom tropes were invented by women who needed slightly more avant garde ways to fuck spock.... wanting to fuck spock is in many ways a load bearing pillar of fandom like if u took it away the source code would just break theres like a molecule of wanting to fuck spock or reaction to everyone wanting to fuck spock within the heart of fanfic all fanfiction is about wanting to fuck spock except fanfic about wanting to fuck spock which is about women in stem

I ❤️ when it’s slow at work and I get to log onto tumblr dot com and see the lecherous shit the girlies posted whilst I slept

Got the remake let’s fucking gooooo

i had three fic ideas.  wrote one.  i still have three fic ideas.  this is not how math is supposed to work.

Screaming, crying, throwing up, going mad even

Bloody Angel

Plagas Leon Kennedy x Reader

Summary: Leon made it back home to his best friend he hasn't confessed to yet, injured like every other time he comes home from a mission. But these injuries prove to be to much for you or him to handle.

Words: 3655

Additional tags: 18+, idiots in love, major angst, hurt/no comfort, minor and major injuries, medical stuff (wound care, mentions of stitches), horror, body horror, blood, gore, graphic descriptions of death, suicide, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Author's note: uh... this was supposed to be like Loverman but sweeter and fluffy. Not this! But I was inspired by @uhlunaro's HOST and DECAY and it went on from there (I really hope you like it!!)

And a fun fact! I cried while writing this - I've never done that over my writing before. This fic has ruined me!

Leon was gone for over a week, thrown into the abyss and barely made it through in one piece. But the mission was finally done. He got Ashley home safely to her family and he made it back home to her. His best friend and roommate, though he wished for more but wouldn't say anything. He couldn't say how he really felt, she deserved someone who didn't disappear for weeks or months at a time with almost no contact. Yet even without knowing how he really felt she was always the light at the end of the tunnel, an angel.

He walked into the house, all the lights were off besides the bathroom one. (Y/N) had to be asleep, at least he hoped. He kept his steps light, discarding his jacket, tossing it on the floor near the door – it could be dealt with in the morning, when he wasn’t so tired he couldn’t think clearly. He undid each strap, taking off the holsters and leaving them on the table to deal with later. All he wanted to do was to fall into bed and not think.

He walked past her room, pausing for a second when he heard movement, wondering if he should say something before she found out in the morning.

"Leon?" (Y/N) asked quietly, turning in the bed and getting up from the bed as she realized who was standing in her doorway. It felt like a dream to see him here again after so long.

"Yeah, it's me," Leon replied. He didn't comment on her state of undress, teasing her like he normally would, standing on his feet took most of his focus. Everything hurt and he just wanted to see her again, to sleep comfortably.

"Are you hurt?" She asked, walking over slowly and taking his hand. The same question as always. It was a greeting of sorts, the first words typically out of her mouth every time he showed back up. No hi, no I missed you, no what happened. She never asked what he did, what his job was, even though he could tell she desperately wanted to know and he was grateful. She saw enough of the aftermath, she didn't need to know the details.

"If I said no would you believe me?" He asked sarcastically, standing still as she grabbed his hand. It was no use to stop her once this started, not that he actually wanted her to stop touching him.

"If you weren't covered in blood, possibly," she replied, looking down at his blood encrusted knuckles. "Where?" She asked, looking back up at him. How she still was still gentle with him despite all the times he annoyed her he didn't know.

"My left arm and side," Leon answered, knowing it was useless to hide any injuries, no matter how inconsequential. "Bunch of bruising on my back too. I don’t think anything is broken."

"Okay," she said, pulling his hand and leading him to the bathroom. He followed along wordlessly, allowing her to work, to move him around however she needed. He sat down in the chair she brought in and began to remove his shirt, trying not to aggravate his injuries further. She placed her hand on his, stopping him so she could do it.

Once she got the bloody shirt off, she tossed it on the floor, turning her attention to the large lacerations on his arm. It was clear he had tried to deal with it, though she couldn't tell if it was dealt with during a fight or if it was just his typical shitty attempt. She frowned at the sight but said nothing. She knew the only answer she'd get from him was "you do a better job" despite how much it frustrated her. She was convinced he did it on purpose just so she would keep taking care of him – an awkward attempt at keeping her around as if she was going to leave. A thought that had never crossed her mind.

Leon watched her as she moved around, grabbing the one box she kept on the sink filled with medical supplies. He knew there were others left around the house, but this one was clearly left here for him. It was always fully stocked and she always had odd colours and patterned bandages. He briefly wondered whether she did it on purpose or not, but knowing her it was on purpose.

"I have to clean it," she muttered, grabbing a damp cloth and moving closer to him, her hand holding onto his bicep underneath the laceration.

"You don't need to do that," he replied as she dragged the cloth over his skin, the cloth turning red as she cleaned off the blood. Leon knew what she was doing, why did she always warn him? Not that he didn't appreciate it, it just confused him.

"What, clean it?" She asked with an eyebrow raised, looking up at him for a moment.

"No, warn me. I know what you're doing."

"It's a habit. Would you rather me ignore you the whole time?" She replied dryly, pulling away long enough to rinse the blood out of the cloth. "Lift your arm a little," she ordered as she moved closer again, going to clean the smaller wound on his side. He did as she asked, keeping quiet as she worked.

She finished up cleaning the blood off, tossing the now dull red cloth into the sink and washed the blood off her hands. "Are you staying?" She asked quietly, turning to the box to grab bandages and other supplies. She hoped he would, but she also needed to know whether she needed to stitch him up. The wounds weren’t as bad as they first appeared and could heal easily if left alone – but only if he could rest.

"Yeah, I'm off for a while," he said with a sigh. He hoped he was, they said he was but his vacations always got cut short. Maybe this time would be different.

He watched her, noticing her hands hovering over the pack of needles. He didn't think his injuries were bad enough for stitches, but she always knew better than he did with this. He never argued with her, she knew how to deal with this better then he did.

"Good," she said, trying to hide a smile as she grabbed a roll of bright pink bandages and a jar of salve. "You're lucky then, you don't need stitches," she added.

"Or you're lucky, you mean," Leon muttered, his lips twitching into a smile as he noticed her light up at his words. She was terrible at hiding her emotions from him. He knew she was happy he was sticking around, that it wasn’t just because she disliked stitching him up.

"Maybe it's both," she muttered, kneeling down so she could see his side properly. "I hate stitching you up," she added, slowly wrapping the bandages over his wounds. 

He said nothing in response. What could he say - sorry? He wasn't sorry. She was the only one he trusted to do this, the only one who he knew would do this no matter how shitty he was to her. Not that he ever meant to hurt her. It just happened sometimes. He didn't have a choice when he had to leave, even in the middle of the night.

"Now turn around, I need to see your back," she said as she finished wrapping his arm and stuck a figure underneath, on the uninjured side, testing the tightness. He held still long enough for her to move her hands before moving around, showing her his bruised back.

"What the hell..." she whispered, dropping the roll of bandages and it rolled over hitting his foot. "Leon, what happened?" She asked quietly, placing her hands over the dark veins and bruising all over his back. His back felt hot to the touch, too hot for just bruising or a strain. His entire back was nearly purple, any veins near the surface of his skin black and she could just barely see them move.

"That bad?" Leon asked dryly, pretending to ignore the fear building up. Trying to hide that he felt like she'd just slapped him, that his throat didn't close up in fear at her reaction.

She never reacted like that - not even when he'd walked into her home and collapsed, nearly bleeding out on her before she could get him up off the floor. She'd call him a dumbass or some random, made up insult while gently taking care of him. She'd snap at him when he told her he left his wounds so she could deal with them then hug him and threaten him if he never made it back to her.

She never showed fear, not outwardly. Not when she was coated in his blood, so close to out of her depth, so close to nearly being unable to help him. His blood nor being able to see into his flesh never made her panic. No matter what she stayed calm, always the calming presence in his life. Soft hands and words, never fear or real anger when he needed her help.

If she was showing it, it was way worse than he thought.

"Leon, do not lie to me. What happened?" (Y/N) asked, keeping her voice steady, though he could hear her voice crack a little. She moved her hand over the darkest spot on his shoulder blade. There was no room for arguments, it was a demand.

"I got… infected. But I'm fine. I was cured, nothing to-" Leon began, getting cut off by her.

"What did you get infected with? Virus? Parasite?"

She was too damn smart for his own good.

"Parasite," Leon answered after a moment, looking over his shoulder at her. He expected her to be upset, to be furious at what hurt him but he never expected to see fear. "What-"

"You didn't get it all out then," she cut him off, looking up at his face. "Hang on, let me," she trailed off, turning and grabbing a hand-held mirror and holding it up so he could see.

It was just like before.

Dark veins scattered across his back, the bruised, achy feeling, the lethargy, all the beginning signs except coughing up blood. Though the more he thought about it, he briefly remembered the coppery taste when he'd woken up on the plane on the way home. How did he not realize sooner?

He couldn't say anything, his voice failing him as he stared at his back in the little mirror.

The parasite was still in him.

"Leon-"

He jumped up, turning around to back away from her. "Don't, you can't," he snapped, backing away towards the bathroom doorway. He had to get away from her before he lost control over his body again. Now he had no idea what to expect if it happened – Saddler was dead, how could the parasite in him even survive without the dominant parasite?

"Leon, it's okay," she replied calmly, holding out her hand to him, trying to calm him down. "We can handle this." He could clearly see how she'd wriggled past all his walls like this, how she always did with her animals. Even panicking, he wanted nothing more than to go to her. He didn't know how she did it. "Leon," she said softly, her hand still held out to him as she took a step towards him, then another and another until she was touching his arms. "I'm going to help you, I'm not leaving."

Leon stared at her for a moment before giving in, wrapping her tightly in a hug. He knew there was nothing to be done now - the parasite matured too much now, but he almost believed something could be done with her words.

"It's going to be okay."

He clung to her, shaking slightly as he tried to wrap his mind around this. There was no going back now, the lab had been destroyed and the procedure didn’t even work. He was out of options but to stand here, holding onto her tightly until it became too much.

***

It took only a few hours for the signs of infection to become noticeable and debilitating. Dark lines snaked around his body and he’d coughed up more blood than he ever had previously.

The bathroom became his spot for now, he couldn’t get far before coughing up more blood and he forced himself to not make more of a mess than he already had after accidentally vomiting on himself after a bad coughing fit.

The pain only got worse as the minutes went by. His back felt like it was on fire, like someone kept stabbing him but the migraine was the worst part, at least right now. The coughing fits caused a headache on its own but the migraine from the infection made it so much worse.

"Get away from me," Leon hissed, weakly pushing her away as he fell to his butt on the bathroom floor. The pain was overwhelming, he could barely speak. He was thankful he was already kneeling on the bathroom floor, he didn’t know if he could handle more pain from falling.

"Leon, stop. Let me help," (Y/N) said calmly, kneeling down beside him and placing her hand on his arm. "I'm not afraid of you, you're not going to hurt me."

"What if- what if I do?" He whimpered, pressing his forehead against the cool floor. The coolness helped soothe the blinding migraine, though it did nothing for the other pain. If he could move his limbs he'd push her away, run, anything to make sure she didn't get hurt or worse, infected. 

But (Y/N) was just as stubborn as he was, maybe more. His weak attempts to wiggle away from her grasp just ended with him pressed up against her side, wrapped under her arm.

"(Y/N)," he groaned, writhing on the floor more, the pain in his back becoming unbearable. He couldn't move his right arm, the shoulder refused to move despite how hard he tried. It felt like he was being controlled like a puppet. The Plaga both the strings and hand, forcing him down and taking what it wanted.

The writhing black mass under his skin shifted and rippled underneath, slowly growing darker and pushing upwards, blotting out the dark veins on his back.

"I'm here," she said softly. "I've got you," she pulled him closer, lifting his head up onto her thigh to keep him from hurting himself more. There was nothing she could do now but keep him as comfortable as possible.

Leon groaned again as the blackness under his skin got closer to the surface. One last push and it burst through his skin, a large tentacle-like appendage with a sharp claw laid on the floor beside him, twitching limply. Blood poured down his back and over (Y/N), coating everything. 

"It hurts," he whined, his arms giving up on him as he fell to the ground, going limp over her lap.

"I know," she murmured, as she carefully wrapped an old t-shirt around the appendage and pressed down, hoping to slow the blood loss. She didn't know how he was even still with her with the amount of blood he'd lost, let alone speaking, though she didn't show that outwardly. "You're going to be okay. I'm not letting you go." She said firmly, leaving him no room to argue.

Leon weakly moved on her, shoving his face on the floor again, needing the cool tile against his forehead. It did little to ease the migraine but he had to try something. The pain was the worst he'd ever felt and there was nothing he could do about it.

She could see another dark spot on his back move, this time on his left shoulder. It moved quicker than the first did. She placed her hand over it, hoping the coolness of her skin would ease the pain but he didn't react to it at all, as if he didn’t even recognize there was a hand on his back. The skin began to tear around it as the dark mass got closer to the surface, pushing its way out.

After a moment it burst out through his skin, causing him to grunt in pain, weakly writhing as it fully emerged from his skin. He didn't have the energy to do much more than twitch as the pain from it overwhelmed him again. It caught his attention when he felt resistance on the appendage suddenly disappear. As if something was holding it back broke.

He laid on (Y/N)'s lap, panting and trying not to hyperventilate.

"Leon…" (Y/N) gasped, the breath forced out of her lungs as she looked down at her chest in shock. The large sharp claw had pushed through her hand and chest, limply hanging down her back. The pain was maddening, yet all she could do was sit there in shock, staring at him, mouth agape.

"(Y/N)!" Leon screamed, yanking himself off of her in horror. What little air was left in her lungs was yanked out as the appendage was torn away, tearing her chest up more, pieces of lung and flesh caught on the sharp tip. All she could do was stare blankly at Leon, her hand resting on her chest, blood pouring over it. He could see through her.

"No, no!" he whined, forcing his limbs to move to drag himself back to her. The pain was overwhelming yet he didn't care. He had to get to her. "I'm sorry, I…" He wrapped her in his arms, her body growing cold against him as more blood poured over him. 

"I love you," she whispered, barely able to make her lips move. Darkness creeped in the corners of her vision, the rest fogged over. She couldn't see Leon now, just a blur of red from their blood. All she could do was hope her confession was enough.

"I love you," Leon murmured, tears falling down his cheeks and onto her face. "Don't leave me, please. You can't!"

(Y/N) raised her hand weakly, placing it on his cheek. It took every ounce of strength left to hold her arm up long enough to touch him, her arm falling back down, leaving a bloody hand print on his skin.

Her body twitched as she wordlessly cried out. Limbs twitching uncontrollably, albeit weakly, she squirmed in his grasp. Leon held her tighter, refusing to let her go despite her slipping through his fingertips.

She cried again, head tossed back and only the whites of her eyes showing. A pitiful, broken sound no living being still clinging to life made.

Then nothing. She slumped down, completely limp in his arms. An empty husk.

"(Y/N)! No, please," Leon cried, holding her limp body tighter. He knew she wouldn't respond but it didn't stop him from trying to wake her. She had to still be with him. She promised she'd never leave him dammit!

Leon laid there sobbing, his head resting in the crook of her neck as her body lay draped over him. He kept a tight hold on her, refusing to let her go even after the bleeding stopped and he was covered in her blood.

Her skin was ice cold by the time he laid her body down on the floor in front of him. She almost looked peaceful now, laying down, eyes still open but dull and lifeless, almost angelic. Blood coated the floor and their bodies, painting her as a bloody angel, left to die from his mistakes.

He didn't say a word, forcing himself to his feet and stumbling to her bedroom. He threw everything out of his way, the mirror on the back of the bedroom door falling and shattering when he shoved it open. The shards of mirror cut into his feet, though he paid no attention to the cuts. None of it mattered now. All he could think of was to grab her desert eagle left in its case under her side of the bed. 

Silver Ghost was closer, left on the kitchen table, still in the holster, just a few steps away from the bathroom floor. Left there until she had patched him up, awaiting his attention, just like every other time. But it wasn't any other time. It had to be her pistol. He didn't know why, maybe a sick sense of justice, that something of hers would fix this, maybe just because it was hers.

Leon shoved the bed sideways and grabbed the case, fumbling with it as he forced it open. He grabbed the pistol and a single bullet before stumbling back to her body. His legs barely worked and he kept tripping over his feet, though he forced his body to keep moving. He fumbled with the pistol as he loaded it. His blood covered fingers made it nearly impossible, it taking far longer than he ever had before.

"I love you," he murmured, dropping to his knees beside her, tears still falling down his cheeks. He sat in front of her, wanting to keep his eyes on her lifeless face. Her eyes stared blankly at him and he wanted to look away but he had to face her.

His last memory had to be of her.

He raised the pistol, the cool, blood covered metal almost soothing the blinding migraine. He pulled the trigger, a loud gunshot rang out, disrupting the silence.

He fell forward onto her, muscles twitching uncontrollably, yet he was silent besides the quiet gurgling as he choked on his blood. The pistol fell onto the floor loudly, landing near her thigh, just barely touching her. Eventually he stilled, laying limply on her just as she did him.

They'd never be apart again.

anyway pls reblog for sample size 👀

Reiners big meaty hands

something about big rough hands running over your curves and the words “you’re so soft” being whispered into your ear just makes me turn into a mess

Lovefool

Smut, dilfs, best friends hot dad trope

A soft trembling moan falls from your lips as your hips bang into the rosewood desk he has you bent over as each well-paced thrust lands deep within you. His whole body is warm and firm as he holds you close, squeezing you affectionately while you drown in the heavy scent of sex and his cologne. The sharp nips of his teeth along the sensitive flesh of your neck is a welcome pain, adding to the sensations overtaking your body. His arm across your chest pulls you flush against his chest as he leans closer to the desk, seeking a deeper angle within you. Moans tumble continuously from your lips, your mind too hazy to form words. You’re so close, god you’re so close. You push your hips back into him-

“Hey, hey, y/n- wake up.” You groan and roll over to face Jolyne. Your body is sweaty and your cheeks flushed with amor and embarrassment. “You were, you were uh, havin’ quite the dream from the sound of it.” “And I woke you up?” It’s dark, you can't see her, she can’t see you. That little bit of knowledge is the only thing keeping you from bursting into tears at the moment. “Yeah, no worries though, it happens to everyone. Soooo, who was it about.” “Don’t remember,” you lie, ‘God this is terrible,’ you think, rolling out of bed and heading towards the door. “Come on, dream like that you gotta remember who it was. I have dreams like that about Tom Cruise sometimes. Remember when he was in that vampire movie? Sooo fuckin’ sexy. Where you goin?” “To take a shower Jo, I’m horny and embarrassed,” you snap, closing the door behind you.

You lean against the door and let out a silent sob, clapping your hand over your mouth to silence any possible noise you could make. You’d die if your best friend found out you had a wet dream about her dad in her bed of all places. Fuck what was wrong with you? Even if you did fuck him, which you wouldn't, even though you were an adult, and it was legal sure, was it moral? You knew Jotaro held morals over the law. He’d kill a man if it was the right thing to do, hell, you were pretty sure he had killed a man. “I can’t just stand in the hall like this, what if he comes out? What if I look weird? What if I smell weird?” ‘Just go shower, jack off a little, go back to bed, and apologize to Jolyne for being a dick when she wakes up.’ Easy Peasy.

It was in fact, not easy peasy.

The shower knobs were squeaky as hell, most likely because it was two in the morning and the only sound in the whole house, but still loud as hell regardless. You couldn’t get the water temperature adjusted, either burning or freezing you. You eventually decided hot was better than cold, it was bad enough you were busting a nut in their shower, the water bill didn’t need to be extravagant on top of that. Then it took you forever to get into your groove, almost certainly because of stress and embarrassment, and when you finally did, you couldn’t seem to shut up. Biting the back of your hand to silence your moans as you rode your fingers, you finally managed to get yourself to the edge. You came with a high-pitched whine, biting down on your hand hard enough to break the skin and slipping, narrowly catching yourself on the towel rack, but not before slamming your whole body weight against the back wall of the shower. The color drains from your face as you realize that Jotaro’s room is on the other side of said wall. ‘Oh god, he has PTSD, oh fuck he's gonna panic and kill me. I’m naked, shit. It's all over now.’ The door never slams open, and you’re left alive. Maybe he didn't hear it. You turn the shower off as quietly as possible and step out, toweling off and dressing before heading back to Jolyne’s room.

When you go crawl into the bed Jolyne rolls over, facing you. “So, did you enjoy your wank?” “Jo, what, why are you still awake.” “It must have been good, I heard you slip,” she giggles. “You were listening,” you hiss, staring at her in disbelief. “Not on purpose, I was trying to go back to sleep but you weren’t exactly quiet.” “Fuck, I hope nobody else heard. I’m sorry you did though, and I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.” “It’s fine, I get pissy when I’m pent up too. We need to find you a boyfriend, and fast.” “Bitch,” you laugh, throwing your arm across her shoulder. “But you loooveee me,” She coos, throwing her arm over you as well. “Shut it and go to sleep, I’m still embarrassed.”

When you wake up in the morning, Jolyne’s not in bed, so you assume she’s already gotten up to get breakfast like the glutton she always was in the morning “How are you not fat,” you always asked her, watching in disbelief as she ate a bowl of cereal and four pop tarts. “Hard work,” she’d always reply around a mouthful of food. You couldn't find her. You poke your head into the kitchen and call softly, weary of waking Jotaro. “She had classes this morning,” a deep voice rumbles, frightening you. Jotaro’s leaning against the counter, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands, his face as unreadable as ever. “Good morning Mr. Kujo, do you uh, mind if I have coffee with you,” you greet softly, grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “Not at all, y/n. If anything you're my favorite out of all Jolyne’s friends, but don’t tell her that, she’ll never talk to you again just to spite me.” You let out a soft laugh. “She doesn’t really hate you that much, only a little bit,” you hum, pouring yourself some coffee and leaning on the counter across from him. It was just coffee, so why did it feel so dirty? “Are you alright, I heard you fall in the shower last night.” Because he had heard you, that’s why. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine thank you for asking, I just slipped.” He shrugs, your answer saiting his curiosity.

“May I ask why I’m your favorite out of Jolyne’s friends,” you ask suddenly, staring into the warm mug in your hands. “You’re just pleasant to be around, that’s all.” “You don't seem the type to derive pleasure from other’s company, Mr. Kujo.” “Most people are intolerable, yes, but I happen to hate you less than the others by a long shot.” “Not one to mince words, I see.” “Speaking of deriving pleasure, you’re a noisy one I hear,” he counters. You’re dumbfounded. Never in a million years would you have expected him to be so forward. “So you heard me?” “I’ve overstepped,” he murmurs, putting his mug down and turning to leave, but you reach out and grab his wrist. “Mr. Kujo, Jotaro, may I call you Jotaro?” “I’ve insulted your privacy, I no longer deserve your respect, why not,” he replies, looking as beaten as you've ever seen him.

“May I confide something in you, Jotaro, something deeply personal?” He nods. “I-I uh.” ‘You stupid fucking bitch spit it out or don’t, stop wasting his time.’ “The reason I was doing that last night is because I- um- I had a wet dream. About you.” He stares at you blankly. ‘Oh god, I’ve really done it now he’s disgusted. He hates me. I’m so fucking filthy. What’s wrong with me?’ “Really,” he breathes finally, bringing a hand up to rest on your cheek. “I know it’s foolish to think about you like that but I can’t help it and-“ ‘oh god he’s leaning towards me what do I do?’ “M-may I kiss you,” he whispers, his breath ghosting across your lips as he speaks. You answer by simply wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself into him, kissing him fervently.

“Is it disgusting that I touched myself when I heard all those sounds you were making? Am I a terrible man for jacking off to my daughter’s friend? The very fact that I kissed you- that I ever thought about you like that-” He looks genuinely disgusted with himself as he looks to you for an answer. You jump, bringing yourself to sit on the counter and pull him to you, his massive thighs resting between your legs. “You’re not disgusting,” you coo, stroking his hair soothingly. It’s surprisingly soft, making you bring your other hand up to rest in his hair as well. “You're a good man, everyone that’s met you knows that. Cold, maybe, but still good. I know that underneath whatever it is that you got going on in there,” you tug gently at his hair for emphasis. “There’s a man with his own needs and wants the same as everyone else, and who am I to deny a good man something we both want? Something we both need, hm?” “You’re smarter than this, stop being foolish. Why’d you waste your time on someone twice your age. There’s plenty of young people that’ll be able to give you what you deserve. Make you happy for a long time.”

You silently weigh your options as he speaks you can force yourself to leave now and let him spiral into self hatred, or you can hang around and fuck him. “But that’s not what I want. I want you. Don’t I deserve to be happy now too?” “You’ll get hurt,” he sighs. “Maybe I’m into that.” He lets out a laugh. “Was all that respect a facade?” Oh this was wrong. Really wrong. He was your best friend’s dad for God’s sake. “Maybe you should make me respect you again,” you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss. You’re surprised when he returns the favor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his body. You pull away and lean against his chest, catching your breath. He rests his cheek on the top of your head and nuzzles into your hair. “Did you really mean that,” he whispers. “Yes,” you reply equally as quiet. You hold each other in silence for some time, just enjoying the closeness of the other. “Jotaro, I’m serious, please, even if it’s just once, I need to know.” “You’re sure?” You nod into his chest.

Jotaro’s room was simple, yet inviting. You observed the details of the space from the edge of his bed while he carefully removes his clothing, laying them across the black leather chair in the corner. The chair had one of those corny motivational posters from the 90’s hanging over it. Something about beauty, but you figured it was there because of the dolphins on it. It wouldn’t have looked quite so out of place if it was just the picture. You shrug the thought off and get up, shedding your clothes and moving to hug Jotaro from behind. You peek around him before slinking around him and pushing yourself into his chest. “Easy, I can’t get my clothes wrinkled, alright?” He was always put together. It would be more than suspicious if Jolyne came home and saw him looking frumpy. Jolyne. Fuck what were you doing? ‘This’ll be a one time thing, and she’ll never know. I just need to know how he feels then I’ll be happy. Just this-‘

Your thoughts are interrupted as Jotaro turns around with you and tosses you onto the bed. He’s wearing just his boxers now and God, is he hot. “Are you sure you want this,” he questions, crawling into bed next to you. “Yes,” you reply, pulling him into another kiss. He rolls onto his back, pulling you to straddle him as you continue kissing. His hands are large and warm as they roam over your body, gently squeezing all the softest parts. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips before taking you in another kiss. You’ve never felt so safe with someone like this. He’d already given you every opportunity to decline him, and you knew that if you told him to stop he would, without hesitation. You break the kiss, your lungs crying out for air as Jotaro’s hand traces up your spine and unclasps your bra. You slip it from your shoulders and toss it across the room, exposing your chest to him. He pulls you up so he can trail kisses along your breasts, making you sigh at the sensation.

You roll off of him and silently urge him to get on top, which he does with no fuss. His finger curls into the waistband of your underwear as he pulls one side down your hip. “Can I take these off sweetheart?” “Yeah,” you breathe, lifting your hips to help him. He sits back and takes you in, his eyes hungrily roaming your naked body. “You’re just so beautiful,” he sighs, before pulling you to the edge of the bed and settling his shoulders between your thighs. His warm breath feathers against your exposed sex, making you shiver. He rests his head against your thigh momentarily, his hair tickling the tender flesh there. The gesture is comforting in a way, easing some of your anxieties. You cross your ankles over his shoulders, urging him to get closer. He obliges, licking a stripe up your slit, making you gasp. “Please,” you whisper, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he eats you like a starved man. He simply hums against you in response, nudging his nose against your clit as he delves his tongue into you, urging you closer and closer to your orgasam. You moan and dig your heels into his back, urging him closer to you. Jotaro groans at the sensation, pushing you over the edge. You tug harshly at his hair as he works you through your orgasam.

He crawls up the bed and flops down next to you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Was that good? I haven’t done that in a really long time,” he chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “It was amazing. Nobody’s ever made me cum like that.” “That’s disappointing,” he hums, pulling you into his huge body. “You want me to do it again?” “Yes, God yes, please.” He grunts and rolls over. You can hear him rummaging around in the nightstand before letting out a pleased noise and rolling back towards you. “Hm, safety first,” he hums, tearing the small foil packet between his fingers open with his teeth. You giggle and tug at his hair with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. “Hng, god even your hand feels good shit sweetheart, keep going like that.” “What if I used my mouth instead?” His cock twitches in your hand and he throws his arm across his eyes, moaning.

You move down and settle yourself between his huge thighs, your mouth watering at the sight of his strong cock standing at attention between them. You lick along the vein at the underside of him. He shivers at the contact and buries his hands in your hair. His moans get louder as you kitten lick your way up his shaft, practically shouting as you lick the precum from his weeping slit. “Oh god, that feel so good shit, fuck!” He’s much louder than you had expected him to be due to his quiet nature, constant praise falling from his lips as he guides you over his cock and urges you to take him into your mouth. The head of his cock nudges the back of your throat as you take him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks. “God sweetheart, you’re so good at this, taking my cock like this.” He lets out a guttural moan as you take him into your throat. He twitches in your mouth and you pull away from him, separating yourself from his cock with a wet pop, a trail of saliva leading from your swollen lips to his painfully hard dick.

You take the unwrapped condom from him and roll it onto him before flopping down beside him on your back. “Come on, sir, don’t you want to fuck me?” “If you want me you’re gonna have to beg for it sweetheart,” he growls, rolling on top of you and pinning your hands above your head. “Please, sir, I’ve been so good. Please use me.” Jotaro lets out a satisfied noise and moves his hand between the two of you, lining himself up with your entrance. You roll your hips, making the head of his cock catch on your clit and you gasp. He finally sinks into you, sheathing himself inside in one fluid motion. The stretch is both painful and the best thing you’ve ever felt, making you squirm under him. “You’re such a good girl, look at you taking all of my cock so easily.”

He rests inside of you for several minutes for you to adjust, occasionally giving just the smallest of strokes to keep himself hard as he waits. “Y-you can move now. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” you whisper, leaning up towards him. He leans down closer to your face and kisses you sweetly, beginning a moderate pace between your thighs. “You feel so good, so warm, taking me so well,” Your walls tighten around him and he groans, thrusting with more force than before. “So good, best I’ve ever fucking had hng. He’s still holding your hands above your head, so you stretch your fingers down to run along his hands. The rhythm of his thrusts becomes sporadic as he gets closer to his orgasam, jumbled praise and expletives falling from his lips as his cock twitches inside you and he stills.

The grip on your wrists loosens and he drops down on top of you before rolling onto his side and pulling you into him. “Are you okay sweetheart?” “Yeah I’m okay, was that good?” His arms tighten around your waist. “Good? I think that was the best sex I’ve ever had,” He chuckles, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. He’s so pleasant, which was definitely not something you had expected. He had always seemed the type to go into the bathroom and tell you to get gone before he came back out, but he wasn’t. You took your time cleaning each other up and helping to straighten each other’s hair and clothes.

He drove you home afterwards and made sure you were safe inside before driving off. Jolyne was home by the time he returned, so he told her you had gotten up late and asked him to drive you home because you had chores to do before your classes tomorrow. She believed him and went upstairs without another question. You and Jotaro were sure you had gotten away with your little rendezvous.

Jolyne called a few days later and you were, as usual, more than pleased to talk to her. “Hey, I have a question?” “Shoot,” “So I’m doing laundry right, and is there any reason your underwear is in my dad’s laundry basket?”

Winter Break

Warnings: Stepcest, slight age gap, fingering, piv, thigh riding

Throughout high school you had been obsessed with Eren Yeager. He was tall, strong, handsome, and a few years older. When he graduated your sophomore year and went off to college far away, you figured that you would never see him again. He had never shown any interest in you, and you had never confessed to him, so it was just better to let things go.

After you graduated you decided to go to college in town so you could keep living with your mom so she wouldn’t be lonely. You’re pleased when she finally marries the guy she’s been seeing the last couple years. You didn’t exactly like him, but you didn’t dislike him either. Everything you knew about him your mom had told you. Your mother was his third wife. His first marriage had ended after a fight about how miserable their son was and she had left both of them. His second wife had died of cancer or some shit, you couldn’t remember, and you really didn’t care.

You knew he had a couple of kids. The younger one was away at college right now, and the other one, Zeke, was absolutely insufferable. Zeke was twenty two and couldn’t seem to get his shit together enough to move out even though he’d graduated both high school and college early. His mother apparently wanted nothing to do with him, so he clung to yours for dear life, which was obnoxious, but if it kept him from crying to you, you were fine with it.

When the holidays roll around, Grisha’s other son returns from his fancy college far away, it’s none other than Eren Yeager, and it’s his turn to be obsessed with you. He accompanies you everywhere you go, telling your parents that you were friends in high school and need time to reconnect, but you quickly notice the way he keeps a protective hand just a little too low on your back when you’re out. The way boys that were usually all over you skirt away when Eren looks at them.

Eren’s tall and nothing but hardened muscle, but his skin is soft, and his hair is silky as it brushes against you when he stoops down to kiss your cheek, making you blush. When other boys flirt with you, his arm around you tightens and he snaps at the poor man foolish enough to cross him.

The possessiveness builds and builds until he can’t take it anymore and finds himself standing outside your open door long after your parents have gone to bed, leaning on the doorframe, observing you. He knocks gently to draw your attention and asks if he can spend some more time with his little sister before he has to leave again. Naturally you let him come in and sit on your bed, not minding how he closes the door behind him, or how he watches you strip off your day clothes and riffle through your drawers for a fresh set of pajamas.

You notice how close he gets when he stands behind you, pressing his warm body against your back and running his long fingers down your bare side, kissing your shoulder and asking if you still have that silly little crush on him. Your cheeks heat up and you rest your head against his chest, looking up at him and confirming his suspicions, allowing him to kiss you on the lips, the way you had both wanted to for so, so long.

He flops onto your bed and opens his arms wide, urging you to join him, and you do, falling into his arms and giggling when he squeezes you against his chest. His laugh is a warm hum as he watches you rest your legs on either side of his thigh, playfully rutting your hips against it once to gauge his reaction. When he doesn't chastise you, you do it again, this time your clit catches deliciously on the material of your panties and you keen, burying your face into his chest.

Eren holds you tight against him as your hips work against his thigh, drawing soft sounds from your lips, Lips he so badly wants to taste, so he releases you and cranes down to peck at your lips, letting out a pleased groan when you deepen the kiss and chase after his lips greedily. The flannel of his pants rubs you raw through your panties but it feels too good to stop, so you don’t, whining in pain and pleasure as you reach your release in Eren’s arms.

He unclasps your bra and slides it off you before rolling over you, covering your body with his as he kisses and nips at the softest parts of your skin, rolling his warm tongue over them after to soothe the sharp ache his teeth leave behind. Eren shoves his hand into your panties and moans when he feels how wet you are for him as he teases your entrance. He silences your moans with his mouth when two of his fingers push into you. He whispers about needing to stay quiet because mom and dad would be so angry if they caught him touching his sweet little step-sister like this.

He pulls your panties down your legs and rubs his cock through your folds, looking at you, waiting for you to tell him to leave, to get out and not come back, but you don’t. You just look up at him with sleepy eyes and spread yourself wider for him with your fingers. Eren apologizes softly as he shoves his cock to the hilt into your pretty pussy, because he knows it’s uncomfortable, but he’s waited so, so long to have you and here you are, right in front of him.

Eren’s greedy, and possessive but he’s not a mean brother, so he praises how well you take him and how sweet you are for him as you claw at his back and mewel under him. His kisses soften as his thrusts get harsher. He growls something about your needy cunt being his and only his to fuck, and you mindlessly agree as he toys with your nipples, urging you to cum before him. And you do, locking your ankles behind his back, trapping him inside you as he cums, filling your little cunt and marking it as his.

You lay limply on the mattress as you come down from your orgasam, watching as Eren gets up, tucks himself back into his sleep pants and leaves the room. You had expected him to just go to bed, but he returns with a warm rag and gently cleans you up before dressing you and tucking you into bed. He sits down and kisses your forehead and rests his hand on yours through the blanket, promising to spend some more time with you before he leaves in a couple of days.