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maybege · 4 months ago

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Drained

Summary: Donating blood suddenly has a very different meaning.

Pairing: vampire!Paz Vizsla x fem!!Reader

Wordcount: 3.9k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, explicit sexual content, dry humping, blood

Happy October everybody! I hope that autumn is treating you well and if it is not, that I can make you feel a little better with this Halloween-y Paz piece. As always, this is an AU that has existed extensively in my mind for a very long time, so it was fun to actually write something about it lol I hope you enjoy it and if you do, please leave a comment or a reblog, so we can all freak out about what a hot fun guy vampire!Paz is.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

The night air was crisp as you made your way to one of the most exclusive clubs in the whole city and your choice to wear high heels felt stupider with every step you took over the wet streets of downtown but it was too late to change your mind now. In more ways than one.

You threw another look at your phone, where your navigation app guided you down yet another dark alleyway until you arrived at a door that couldn’t look further from trustworthy if it tried.

But as you pushed the door to Vizsla’s Speakeasy open and made your way behind a deep red velvet curtain, you were suddenly enveloped in pure luxury. You could make out leather tufted booths in the candlelight. The walls were dark but shimmery, looking soft to the touch, and more than one wall was covered in golden picture frames. Jazz music played in the background, though you could not see a live band, though maybe they were just hidden in the depths of the bar.

The place was packed – so packed, in fact, that you were surprised you hadn’t heard the commotion outside. Those brick walls must be very thick, indeed.

Trying very hard not to think about the fact that you were surrounded mostly by vampires, you made your way to the bar which was set up on the long side of the room. A tall woman stood behind the counter, looking busy. The shelves behind her were stacked with easily hundreds of liquor bottles, creating a colourful backdrop.

“Uh, hi, I am here to, uh, to – “

“New donor?” the gruff woman asked, not stopping her work of wiping down the counter.

You nodded quickly, trying to make yourself feel tall and confident and hoping that no one saw how tightly you were gripping your bag.

Marylin had sworn on her new designer bag that blood donating was one of the safest things one could do (“and it gets you bags like these!”). Considering how long you had worked together, it was kind of tragic that it took four years and her floating into work with that cherry red bag that you had seen in a window one day and had dreamt of ever since to ask her where she had all that disposable income from.

After all, you both worked the same job.

“Oh, that is easy,” she grinned, “I am donating blood.”

It was common knowledge that the streets of the city belonged to the creatures of the night. At least it had been that way ever since you could remember. Your grandparents sometimes still talked about the time before vampires and werewolves suddenly appeared at every corner, drastically changing life as they knew it.

The time of change was something neither of your grandparents ever talked about. It must have been rough. But somehow, after years of tensions and deaths and protests, it all settled into something that everyone could live with. And part of that was that the cities were flooded at night with people that previously had to hide. There were establishments specifically for them, where like and like mingled, and from a young age you were taught never to go out at night.

As you grew older and actually moved from your parents' place in the peaceful suburbs to the city, you knew that nighttime was not as dangerous as they had made it out to be. The interest vampires and werewolves had in actually tearing you up was overrated and you could still go out for an after-work drink or celebrate your birthday by going out until the sun rose. There were just some streets you tried to avoid.

But a huge part of why it was no longer so dangerous was because blood banks existed. And not the kinds to save people’s lives. Although, in some way, they did. Vampires no longer having to hunt and drain innocent bystanders entirely of their blood to survive made the biggest difference in being able to share a society.

You could go to any hospital and donate blood just like in old times and, just like in old times, you were compensated with a small fee. Charitable work, truly.

Unless you wanted to get a cherry red handbag, pay off the medical bills inherited from your childhood, finally afford an apartment bigger than a shoebox, or invite your friends out for dinner sometime.

Then, you wanted to go where Marilyn directed you. Into one of the vampire-owned locations where said vampires would splurge a lot of money on getting blood that was not vacuum sealed in a medical-grade plastic bag.

“It is like a very unusual cocktail bar,” your colleague had explained, showing you her neck and wrists to make her point about how no marks were left after a few days, “And I have never felt safer anywhere else. Just try it and thank me later!”

Which is why you were now standing in front of a woman who looked nothing like how you imagined a vampire to look. She was wearing normal clothes, for one, and her tattoo sleeve did not make her look very immortal. “Name’s Steph,” she introduced herself. “Care for a welcome mocktail while you wait?”

“No, thank you.”

She nodded. “Mar sent you, right?”

It took you a moment to realize that Mar was Marilyn and you nodded, nervously looking around. There was no official dress code but you were happy you ended up going with the black pumps and the little black dress. Everyone here looked like they were dripping in understated wealth. “She said she wouldn’t be here today.”

“Nah, she only comes on Tuesdays,” Steph explained and set the glass down, “But you’re not here to see Mar.”

No, you were not, and the reminder made your throat feel very dry.

“There is no reason to be nervous,” she smiled, “The first donation is always with one of your more senior guests. They have more experience with feeding off someone alive and can control themselves if you show any signs of discomfort. If you feel in any way unsafe, just say Geronimo, and I will come and make sure you are okay, okay?”

You nodded, biting your tongue to ask how she was supposed to hear you over the noise.

“I am sure you want to get to know who is going to be assigned to you tonight – Pat!”

A woman turned around with the happiest smile you had ever seen. Her dark hair was in a tousled updo and heavy diamond earrings swung when she turned around. Though that was not what you focussed on. There was a small trail of blood down her throat and you wondered if you should tell her. How hard was blood to get out of clothes anyway?

“What’s up?”

“Where’s Djarin tonight?”

“Oh, he's gone camping again,” she explained, “He asked Mr Vizsla to take over, he should be here somewhere, I just saw him …”

“He is right here, ladies,” a deep voice said right behind you and you turned around.

You were not sure what you had been expecting. Certainly not this specimen. He was tall. And broad. And handsome.

Oh fuck, why is he so handsome?

Mr Vizsla was the biggest man you had ever seen and if you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was a werewolf. He had a strong, stubbled jaw and his dark hair was swept into a hairstyle that made you think of your grandmother's movies. He wore an all-black suit with the first few buttons undone, which meant you got a peek at his chest and the gold chain that was around his neck.

“She’s the newbie that was assigned to Djarin tonight.”

You met his gaze and immediately knew he had caught you ogling him. Shit. But then his eyes roamed over you and you swallowed, trying to stand a little taller even if your feet were already killing you. This was the most beautiful man you had ever seen and everything in you wanted to impress him. The side of his mouth quirked up into a charming smile.

“I'll take it from here,” he announced and held out his hand to you, “why don’t we get you somewhere more comfortable, darling?"

You followed him silently through the bar that seemed to much deeper in the building than you had originally thought. At one point, you even passed the band. You spotted his face in a few pictures, several of them black and white.

He looked older than you but he didn’t look old. Not like he had lived entire millennia. Maybe he hadn’t. Was it considered rude to ask vampires their age?

“Did you read the pamphlet?” he asked when he stopped you both at a small and empty booth. His hand was warm and dry, you could feel a few callouses at his fingertips and you wondered if he worked. Or if he had always been a … businessman? Bar owner?

You nodded, listing off every bullet point that had been on the online info sheet Marylin (Mar, apparently) had forwarded to your email. “I made sure to hydrate plenty, am not taking any blood thinners and my last check-up at the GP did not show anything wrong with my bloodwork. I should be good to donate blood.”

“Good,” he nodded, “do you have any questions before we get started? Anything at all?”

You shook your head. You knew why you were here but why did it suddenly all feel so fast?

His strong hand wrapped around your wrist and you let your eyes drift over the tattoos on his knuckles and the girth of his fingers and … damn it, how could one man be so … handsome? You had always thought of vampires as pale-faced, porcelain statue versions of humans. But he looked … rugged, and warm, and real. And pretty damn sexy.

“Do you have a preference?”

“What?”

With burning ears, you realized you hadn’t listened to a word this handsome stranger had said. He realized it too because he had that cocky smile again. “Don’t get distracted by my dashing looks, sweetheart,” he teased you, “This is important.”

You nodded numbly, still watching your hand in his. “I will take a bite at your wrist first,” he repeated gently, “Some people have a strong preference for where to bite and we find that it is a good test to see how you feel afterwards. I usually suggest the non-dominant hand but maybe you already have a preference?”

“No, uh, non-dominant is fine,” you murmured, holding out the hand in question.

Mr Vizsla did not look away from you though. His dark eyes were filled with mirth as he patted the spot right next to him. “Might be a bit more comfortable if you're closer,” he said and you looked down at the big space between your bodies. He was right, you knew that, but you also knew that your heart was not just racing because you were nervous to give yourself over to a vampire. No, you were pretty sure that the closer you got to him, the likelier you would be to embarrass yourself.

You really did not want to embarrass yourself.

Not even a second later, you could feel his thick thigh press against yours. Your heart skipped a beat and you wondered if he could hear it. It had been too long since anyone touched you and of course, it had to be at the most inopportune moment that you realized that.

“No need to be nervous,” he assured you, “If you feel in any discomfort if you want to stop for whatever reason, just say Geronimo and Steph is right there to punch me off you if you feel unsafe.”

“Steph?”

Who was Steph? All you could focus on was the sight of him gently cradling your hand and brushing his mouth over your palm. The touch was so gentle, yet so intentional, it made your thighs clench. His lips brushed over the inside of your wrist and your breathing stuttered. “Think of nice things,” he winked at you before his teeth sank into your skin.

An image flashed in front of your eyes. Nice might be the wrong words to describe it. You saw him – felt him, more like – bent over you, driving into you from behind. Your eyes rolled back, hands fisted into white sheets. It was warm, you were in the tropics somewhere, but that did not bother you. Because the man behind you fucked you so good you were crying, begging him for more and all you could see was –

“How are you feeling?”

You blinked, feeling dizzy at how violently you were pulled away from an idea that felt so real. What was that?

The dark-haired man still had your hand in his and you could see two little drops of blood forming on your wrist. It did not hurt, not really, except for a dull throbbing in your veins. You frowned, trying to clear your head of the image that had been so real for a moment that your body still craved being filled by … him.

“Good,” your voice felt hoarse and you swallowed, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in your throat. He had no business looking so devilishly handsome with his lips stained dark from your blood.

Your neck would be next, you knew, and immediately your mind was filled with pictures of you in his lap, closer than what was probably appropriate. Then again, it didn’t exactly seem like society’s rules were followed in this place.

He shifted in his seat, his legs spreading and your eyes involuntarily darted to the bulge hidden by his slacks. With the dim lighting, you shouldn't have been able to see anything but still, you imagined to see a very distinguishable something between his legs.

And then an idea popped into your head that you could not get rid of.

“Would it – would,” you swallowed again, trying to find the courage to ask what you wanted.

“What, darling?” he asked, his tongue darting out to lick over the puncture wounds on your arms. You gasped at the feeling. Maybe someone should add spontaneous arousal to the side effects section of that pamphlet.

“Can I – Could …”, you stopped short, frustrated at how nervous you were.

“You want to straddle me?” he suggested his legs spreading the tiniest bit more and you could feel your core pulse at the sight of it. Shit. Fuck. Damn it.

“Is that very inappropriate?” you rushed out, “I am sorry, I don’t mean to put you into an awkward position and –“

“Hey,” he murmured, his hands on your waist gently guiding you to him “Whatever makes you feel the most comfortable, all right?”

You took a deep breath, “All right.”

His large hand was on your neck, gently cupping one side so you could rest your weight against it, offering him up all this space. There was faint music in the background and you could feel his breath wash over the sensitive skin.

Your breathing stuttered, your heart raced and you shifted closer to him, your core settling over his which made you even more.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your jawline, the tip of his nose over your neck, “It is like I can hear your thoughts from here.”

Your laugh sounded breathy even to your ears but before you could worry about how you wanted to make sure you were not being a nuisance; his teeth sank into the soft skin of your neck.

The images returned almost instantly.

This time it wasn’t him behind you in the tropics. This time it was right where you were sitting. But instead of straddling him, you were kneeling between his legs, your mouth wrapped around the girth of his cock. You were caged in by his thick thighs, you could feel the heat of his body at your shoulders, his hand at the back of your head, pushing and pulling you on his shaft.

Good fucking girl, he rumbled in your mind and you gasped out a moan. With a particularly deep thrust, he hit the back of your throat and you gagged, your eyes eager to find him even through the tears.

The scene morphed and you were somewhere else, wearing next to nothing. There were people all around you, club music pounding in your ears. You wore a mini-dress with an orange pattern looking like it came out of one of those retro shows. But that was not what you focused on, no.

You were on him, his cock nestled inside you as he faintly talked with other people and you were just there, moving in minuscule thrusts as he kept his hands on you, his mouth occasionally on your neck, whispering things you could not hear but knew were dirty.

Oh fuck. You wanted to pull away, feeling your pussy getting wetter. At this point, you would not be surprised if you had left a wet patch on his pants. But you would be really fucking embarrassed.

The burning in your cheeks made you want to jerk back, get off his lap and run away to move to the other side of the county.

Don’t, sweetheart, you will hurt yourself.

Your eyes flew open, seeing nothing but the dark corner of the ceiling. He was in your head. Was he in your head?

You are in my head?

His mouth did not leave your throat and his other hand landed on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. Right onto the growing bulge in his pants.

Believe me, that’s my first time, too, his voice sounded amused, almost, don’t stop on my account. I quite enjoyed the little picture show.

The hand on your neck spanned wide and suddenly he was tilting your head differently and your eyes fell closed, returning to the images in your minds – and in his, too, apparently.

Your hips started moving on their own accord, grinding against his prominent erection as you found yourself chasing a high you had not felt in a long time.

Fuck, sweetheart. You could faintly hear him groan against your neck and you bucked against him again, the pressure on your clit delicious. The hand on your back wandered lower, to your ass and with how you were moving against him, it was easy for his fingers to slip under the hem of your dress.

Please, Paz, you thought, your pussy aching when his calloused fingertips brushed the lacy edge of your panties before finding the wet spot between your thighs.

Come for me, sweetheart, his voice commanded in your hand.

Countless scenarios flashed in your head, each one more pleasurable than the last but all of them too quick to focus on one. Even if you had wanted to, you would not have been able to form a coherent thought as your orgasm crashed through you.

When you came back into reality, his tongue was on your neck, closing the wound just like on your wrist before. Your thighs felt uncomfortably wet and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Well, that was a first,” Paz breathed and you blinked, trying very hard to be present. The high you were still floating on came crashing down when you realized you were still sitting on his lap and you had just come in front of this, essentially, stranger when that had really not been the plan.

Fuck, you had to get out of here before he kicked you out. How could you have dropped the ball so badly on this?

“No movement,” his hand flexed your back, stopping you from clambering off him, “We don’t want you to get dizzy. Stay here for five-ish minutes and we will see how you feel after some aftercare.”

“A-aftercare?”

He nodded, his fingers brushing over your neck. “A mocktail and the pastry of the day,” he elaborated, “I think it’s croissants today. “

You really liked croissants.

“I am so ashamed,” you whispered, your eyes firmly fixed on his collarbone, “I am so sorry. I promise I will never come back. When Marylin explained donating blood, it didn’t sound like – I wasn’t prepared for –“

“Please do come back,” he interrupted you gently, fingers tipping your chin up until you had to meet his dark eyes, “It – What happened is rare. And I never heard of both happening at the same time.”

Your puzzled expression was enough for him to continue.

“Some people are more … sensitive,” his deep voice sent a shiver down your spine, “When it comes to feeding from them. And I have heard of the odd pair where there was a telepathic connection, but I’ve never – haven’t experienced either. There is no reason to be ashamed. Clearly, I was affected too.”

Your cheeks burned at the memory of that one image that you were certain your head hadn’t come up with.

“Though I have to warn you that if you do come back, I might ask you to be assigned to me every time,” he teased, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. When he spoke, his fangs did not seem all that prominent but would it be different if you kissed?

“I – I wouldn’t mind that, Mr Vizsla,” you admitted quietly.

He scoffed, “Call me, Paz, sweetheart, please.”

The arrival of the waiter interrupted any further conversation and Mr Vizsla (Paz) gently eased you off his lap until you were sitting right next to him. Although the movement was slow and minimal, a wave of dizziness still washed over you and you understood why he had kept you from fleeing.

“Drink,” he offered you the fancy glass and you took it. His arm was draped around the back of the booth right behind you and you felt both comforted and nervous by how close he was.

“Slow and steady,” he murmured as you gulped down the fruity mocktail. His forehead was almost leaning against your temple and you had to resist the urge to just … relax into him.

This felt like the best sex you ever had and yet this man was virtually a stranger. But there was no hesitation in his gentle touches as he offered you the plate with the croissant and there was no flinching on your part when he put his arm around your shoulders.

Was it possible to feel such deep trust in someone you had met only once?

His phone rang and you watched as he pulled it out of his pocket, the sizable screen dwarfed in his hand. A frown formed on his face and your smile fell.

“I am so sorry, but I need to go now,” he announced with a frown on his face. With you still sitting down, he seemed even bigger and you looked up at him with big eyes. Somehow, you had hoped that he would stay. That you could get to know him more.

“So soon?”

“I have to be home in time to feed the cat,” he replied.

“You have a cat?”

“Yeah, her name is Biscuits and if her dinner is late she will start killing any mice she can find and I will not spend my eternal life digging small gravesites.” As if to prove his point, he unlocked his screen and showed you a picture of the fluffiest cat you had ever seen. Biscuits seemed a fitting name.

“Will – will you be here next time too?” you asked before you could lose your courage.

“Oh definitely,” he grinned, “Remember what I said, love, you’re stuck with me now.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #smut

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s-4pphics · 2 years ago

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look, wild cherries! 1 (a.a)

wc;cw: 1.4k, cherrychaser!abby, scumbag!abby, corruption kink, descriptions of sex MDNI, mentions of weed n alc, dubcon, my baby sucks in this but she’s hot so who cares <3, smut l8r duh, riley makes an appearance :D

The first time Abby took a girl's virginity, she didn’t leave her apartment for four days.

She hadn’t been… hunting for a virgin that night, it was completely by happenstance: she was a sophomore at the time, and she’d got invited to a party at the girls soccer team’s frat house by one of her friends. It was pretty exclusive, and she was scared that she would be overlooked as a mere plus one by the entire team, but she ended up getting along really well with everyone there.

Including a girl with a number seven pinned on her crop top.

Abby was crossed as fuck, and she barely has any memory of that night, but she can’t forget the desperation on the school’s star goalie’s face when she pulled her into her bedroom by her shirt, asking—no, almost demanding to take her virginity. Please, Abby? Treat me good? Be my first?

It’s almost comedic that she forgot the athlete’s name because she’ll never forget the pink fairy lights twinkling, the array of plushies stacked up on her bed, the glittery duvet; All of it still picks at her brain til this day, and it had been two years since it happened; she was about to graduate, for fucks sake!

The girl’s pussy had been so wet, squirting all over her pillows and blanket, crying out about how her stashed dildo was too big and couldn't take it, but Abby was able to convince her that she could. And she did, she’d took it so fucking good.

Their fucking had started out pretty basic; Abby gave her some nasty, sloppy head, fingered her, made her squirt all over her blanket twice. It wasn’t until she slipped the fat tip of the dildo into the tight entrance and the girl let out a pained shriek of Abby! Oh, God, you’re taking my virginity! that her brain chemistry completely rewired, and her obsession ignited.

She doesn’t know if it was the weed or liquor that made her core clench so tight that she moaned out at the statement, or if she’s always been a goddamn sicko, but she can proudly say that she hasn’t been the same since.

The girl, however, would not leave her the fuck alone after Abby fucked her. She somehow found her account on Instagram and Snap and was obsessed with asking her out on coffee dates and inviting her to watch her practice, in which she politely declined every time.

It had gotten so bad that Abby thought inviting her over for a quick fuck would make her stop, get it out of her system, but she ended up falling asleep in her bed right after she squirted on her dick. What the fuck!

Abby wasn’t an asshole often, but after the girl showered and ate the last of her Cinnamon Toast Crunch four days later, she lost it. She cussed her out and told her to leave. She made the girl cry, before she clumsily put her pants on, and left with a slam of the door. Abby never saw her on campus after that, thank god.

Besides that weird ass experience, she loved fucking virgins. Loved making them dirty with her corruption.

She loves having sex, but nothing strokes her ego—and dick—more than popping a pretty girl’s cherry. She’s seven virginities down, as of now. She loves making them sweat and beg and cry. It makes her so hot—

“Bitch, what the fuck are you staring at?” Her best friend, Riley, leaned closer to whisper to her. Abby blinked blankly as she broke her trance.

Abby hadn’t taken her eyes off you since she walked into the campus library.

Riley had texted her after class demanding that they go study for their chemistry exam. She almost didn’t show up, but she was so close to failing; One more D on a test would completely destroy her GPA and her scholarships would disappear with the snap of a finger.

She wasn’t expecting the study session to consist of her mind trailing off as she stared at you, thinking about bending the pretty receptionist at the desk over and making her scream in front of everyone in here.

You were so fucking cute: circle frames around your eyes, two puffs surrounded by clips atop your head, cropped, purple sweater and jean shorts that showed most of your legs. She could see that you had on a pair of worn sneakers through the little gap of the desk you sat at, and all she could think about was your knee-high socks above her head as she pounded into that tight, gooey cunt—

“Abby, bro, what the fuck. Can you pay attention?”

“Yeah, gimme a sec,” and she shot up out of her seat to walk towards you.

She could see that you had your AirPods in the closer she got, mindlessly scrolling through your phone.

She cleared her throat, “Excuse me?”

You instantly looked up when you heard her, and she was met with your bright smile. You smelled like candied apples, fucking shit—

“Hi! How can I help you?” you spoke in a hushed tone, and she nearly went cross-eyed. She could hear you begging for her cock, now!

You can help by letting me rail you!

“Umm… I’m a chem major, and I was wondering if you could help me find something on… like… ionic liquids?”

She’s been in love with chemistry since she was a goddamn freshman in high school, she knew what ionic fluids were! She just needed an excuse to talk to you. She’s desperate!

You nodded immediately, your smile softening, “Of course! I love chemistry, all the books are down this way.”

You stood and walked out from behind the desk, guiding her to a secluded spot of the library, right by the windows. All she wanted to do was press you up against them and dig you out—

“Abby, you okay?” your gentle voice cut through the raunchy visuals in her head.

“Y-Yeah! Don’t worry, did you say something?”

“Yeah… there’s some books right here about ionic liquids!” you said cheerily, a bright smile growing on your face once more.

“Oh, yeah, cool. Thanks.”

“No problem! I’ll be over there if you need anything!” you said to her before turning to leave. She stopped you before you could.

“Actually!” Fuck, come up with something! “I… uh… you said you liked chemistry?”

“Sure do! It’s so interesting!”

“Facts, I love it. I’ve loved it since I was little.”

“Me, too! I used to get picked on for it, but I’m so glad I stuck with it.”

“Oh, wait, do you major in chem, too?”

“Not anymore! I used to before I transferred, but I switched over to sociology when I got here. I still volunteer as a chem tutor, though.”

Her ears immediately perked up. That’s the door she needed; she’d have that cunt in no time!

She smiled slyly at you, “That's crazy you say that! I actually needed a tutor for this biochem exam next Monday.”

She watched your brows furrow as she spoke, “Do you… would you mind helping me study? I’ve been having some trouble focusing, and I think having someone there would be a big help.”

She noticed your hesitation, “Oh… um…”

Fuck! Dammit! “I mean if you’re not busy! If you are, I totally get it!”

You shook your head at her quickly, “No no no! I’m… just a little swamped right now with some other students.”

“… Oh,” Abby said, disappointment evident in her tone before she disguised it. “That’s okay— “

She watched your expression drop at her tone before you shook your head, “I would have to cancel some sessions, but I think I can see you on Saturday! How’s that sound?” Abby grinned widely at your proposal.

Sounds so good, fuck it sounds so fucking good. “That’d be great, I really appreciate it.” You smiled back at her.

“Great! Here, lemme get your Snap,” you pulled out your phone and she pulled out hers. She was locked in, for sure!

After Abby added you, you gave her a gentle wave before walking back to your desk. She watched your ass switch in your shorts with every step you took. She couldn’t wait to watch it clap on her dick!

She smirked to herself before walking back to where Riley angrily sat.

“You’re a cunt, what the fuck took you so long?” Her best friend scolded her with furrowed brows.

“Just talking to the librarian, damn, chill.”

Abby opened her book with a cheerful grin, suddenly in a much better mood.

She couldn’t wait to see you this weekend!

a/n: damn another impulsive writing prompt😳 uhhhh this is gonna be short n nasty :p literally have the whole thing mapped out already LOL just needed to write abby so bad like i couldn’t hold back anymore shes so hot n sexy need her to corrupt me even tho im a worthless slut already <3

pt. 2 :0

#abby x fem!reader #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby x you #abby the last of us #lesbian #black!reader #black!oc #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x black!reader #works 𖧧࣪#*. cherries 𓆩♡𓆪 #scumbag!abby

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stareiiez · 8 months ago

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𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 --- four

simon ( ghost ) riley x female reader.

content : dark?? ghost. fingering. orgasming. voyeurism. modern settings. mentions of stalking. gore. death. gun violence. graphic descriptions of gore. torture. obsession. drinking. sex. female genitals. unhealthy attachments. violence. blood. implied death. blood. smut in later chapters. dark topics. this is just my version of haunting adeline but for ghost. adult cis female reader. MDNI. 3.8k words. proof read to the best of my tired eyes.

note: another late night update <3 if you're triggered by death/ torture pls don't read! if you do, don't say i didnt warn you! as always, reblogs, comments, and notes are loved and appreciated!!!!

To say soundproofing a basement was a blessing for Simon was a blessing is a severe understatement. Without it, the patrons who were upstairs drinking and being merry in crude ways would be able to hear the gut-wrenching screams and manly grunts over the pain-filled noises that were caused by several weapons of torture and destruction. His favorite had been the cheese grater. A little corny, sure, but god did it do the job to make a man piss himself like a little bitch when it was dragged up the valley of his tender throat. The meaty thwack of blunt force meeting wet skin echoes in the darkened basement. Musty air and traces of liquor tingle upon a twice-broken nose. Bloody knuckles wreak havoc upon the blistered and fileted skin of poor Graves. It's been like this for nearly an hour, the need for releasing pent-up steam and broiling over anger made Simon pull out the big guns and turn the pretty boy into nothing but a bloody sack of crying meat.

Graves was unrecognizable. Both of his once beautiful blue eyes, that you stared at so dreamy-like, were swollen shut. Puffy and purple turning with threats of black eyes and bloodshot irises. Cigarette burns, stab wounds, cuts, and barely forming bruises were littering the bare upper body of the poor suffering sap Simon was torturing half to death. Kidnapping and planned manslaughter were not in his plans tonight, far from it. His plans were innocent. He wanted to watch you and your nightly routine, memorize your little rituals before bed. He wanted to see what you would look like when you were dreaming so peacefully under his watchful eyes that would be at your bedside. He wanted to know what your sheets smelled like, felt like under his rough palms, and get the first touch of pure warmth that radiated off your little body while it was oblivious to his touch.

Now Graves just had to come over on the night Simon planned to. How unfortunate. Truly. If he was any better mate he would apologize for every scream and plea that tumbled out of that broken jaw that once purred into your ear in front of Simon's eyes. It didn't have to be like this, but he had a point to make. He tells himself this when his broad back turns, grabbing at an already stained towel painted red with thick ruby ichor. You were his girl. His pretty baby should be fingered by him and him only. This was only an example for every other son of a bitch you decided that was better to fuck than Simon Riley himself.

"She never even told me she had a boyfriend." cried Graves when he was still pure and fresh-skinned. His eyes flicked down to the dull butcher knife that Simon had been tossing up and down lazily; brown eyes watching the frustration and unease that crept on the other man's face underneath the bleached bone mask of his. "Wouldn't even have thought to touch her, unless she wanted it, and she did want it." Wrong set of words. Yikes.

Rusted metal meets the muscle of Graves' right thigh in one effortless swing of Simon, buried to the hilt. Dark cherry starts to bubble around the plastic handle. Strong metal and even stronger cries of the pretty boy. His head throws back with a growl and a colorful string of curses. Not a very Southern gentlemanly thing of him to do. Very different from the southern hospitality Graves was giving you before Simon got his hands on him. Overly whitened teeth bare out between a grimace and snarl given to the brit. All bark and very little bite. Cute. He'd have fun with this. He always had fun with this type of work, it's why his group always gave him the nitty gritty bloody work. Their hands would be a little cleaner than his, and he could enjoy watching even the toughest get unnerved when they caught the sick glint in Simon's eyes when he brought out new ' toys ' to try out.

Now Graves was on the receiving end of that sick look. Emotionless eyes but smiling lips that peeled a bit too wide under the suffocating balaclava that covered his head and mouth. Bottomless dark pools of his irises reflected the mess of carved-away fatty tissue and the sharp ends of broken bones stretching past the elasticity of human skin. A dead man's masterpiece. Picasso eat your fucking heart out.

The saving grace was the end of a smoking barrel that pressed to Grave's forehead. Hot iron and metal singed away at damp baby hairs and smoothed away the wrinkles of distraught so cruelly. Simon was growing bored of this torture now, he was wasting too much time here messing with a man who had one foot in the grave and the other trying to wedge itself in the doorway of life. He had to make a call and see if his pretty girl was distraught enough for a comforting hand or two to reel her into the snare of his adoration.

"Have we learned our lesson for the evenin' then, mate?" Simon's dark timber of a voice growled into the stale air. The end of his gun prodded at glistening skin for an answer almost immediately. He doesn't have all night.

Grave's jaws couldn't click together enough to help form the bleeding nub of a tongue to form a coherent enough answer to please him. That tongue was cut off with a clean swipe of Simon's blade when Graves still had his energy and was making threats about getting out of there and getting his men to show the Brit how torture worked; then maybe he'd celebrate by fucking 'his' girl all in memorium for his tries. Shame that tongue had to go, he preferred the curses and slew of half-baked 'go to hell's ' Graves let bolster out in the first thirty minutes down here.

He'll settle for a silent answer then. Broken bones popped socket arms and kneecaps would just have to be an affirmative' yes sir ' to Simon. If Dead men can't come crawling back out of their half-dug graves to come to eat some pussy; then mangled ruined bodies of desperate mutts of men can fuck to save their fading souls from descending into the depths of hell.

Thumb cocking back the hammer of his sidearm, pointer finger pressing a little bit too eagerly. The kickback of gunpowder and fire didn't make Simon miss the satisfying spray of pink brain matter, hot blood, and tiny pieces of flying skull shrapnel painting the grungey floor behind Graves.

A mess of gory artistry the man behind the painting would just have to miss being cleaned up and taken out back to be thrown away in a dumpster where all other trash goes to rot away in a marked landfill. The gun of his was tossed next to Grave's bound cooling corpse. He'll get an earful about doing this during working hours of the bar, but he would be damned if he didn't get to release his demons onto Graves before it was too late and his anger chilled to a icy tundra in his chest.

Another cup of coffee, perhaps your fourth of the night cools in your palms again. The caffeine does little to soothe the growing migraine that pounds behind your eye sockets with every microsecond your patience wanes into threads. Angry hornets fester inside your skull, and a jack rabbit's heart inside your chest. Your night is taking years off your life, you can feel it with every monotonous droning of the same questions one of the cops repeats every ten minutes or so. It feels like you're getting nowhere, running on a hamster wheel that'll lead to nowhere and you getting winded in the process. The police make you feel stupid. The moment two cop cars arrived at your residence to investigate the lack of evidence they found from your supposed potential serial killer. They condescended and ridiculed every detail you gave them till your face ran blue and the air in your lungs was nearly gone.

The bloody handprint that was smeared on the greenhouse's wall was already washed away; more than likely absorbed into the greedy grass like a man sucking down water after being in the desert for months. Other than the scratched ' S ' on your porch step there was little to believe you and your cracked-out story. They thought you called just for attention, just to waste gas that was paid for too high taxes. It's been like this for two hours now, repetitive questions and police pulling only yours and Graves' prints off your things and his abandoned truck that was sitting in your drive. Their idiotic conclusion? He was simply lost in the ever-expansive woods. Lost among the shrubbery and shadows, a victim to the unusually cruel predatory gazes of wildlife that watched his every move; ready to strike him down and feast like royalty till their bellies almost popped.

"What did the sheriff make the call on for tonight?"

The cop, who had been interrogating you, turned to address another policeman who was examining your small living room with boredom written all over his young features.

Before the way too young-looking man could answer, an older British voice called out "Why don't you ask 'im yourself, deputy?" The smell of strong cigar smoke suddenly started to assault your senses.

An older gentleman, with ashy brown hair and a thick jungle of facial hair, strode into your home. One of his hands supported the straps of his bulletproof vest, the other held the burning cigar that stunk up the small interior of your home in a matter of seconds. A plume of smoke exhaled out of his nostrils when his beady eyes swept over your kitchenette till they landed on your inquisitive expression. He pressed his cigar to his full lips for another inhale as if he had all the time in the world to stink up your home and trigger your body to sneeze at such an offending smell. "Sorry, sir. " The deputy uttered apologetically, eyes dropping low in embarrassment he was intimidated by such a commanding presence of his superior.

With another exhale of thick grey smoke that makes your nose wrinkle the sheriff approaches you. His right hand extended out for you to shake while he introduced himself to you as if his last name wasn't sewn so neatly into the black fabric of his uniform. "Officer, or sheriff John Price. I don't think we've met." His glove was rough against your skin, but his grasp was gentle while he shook your hand. His free hand plucked the cigar from his lips, teeth leaving bite marks over the damp end he had been sucking on. " Boys couldn't find anything here, miss except for disturbed gravel and prints from the wet grass out back. We can't pull anything significant off those marks, unfortunately. Could have just been a bad attempt of some break-in just to scare a young woman and her guy friend."

Your eyebrows creased, hand slipping out his light hold quickly. Angry hornets in your skull turned into a full-on battalion of those large Asian wasps that had excellent memory. They were banging around against hard bone, buzzing so loud and pissed that they threatened to burst out of your ears and sting every single cop here. Especially Price, they'd sting him right on his stupid gruff face. "But whoever was here, didn't steal anything they just left --"

"The flower behind, yes. The lads at the lab will run it to see if there's any DNA on the stem or even petals. Any clothing fibers or hair strands will be alerted to us right away, but there's nothing we can do. You know how rowdy teens these days are, they'd do anything to scare the grown adults into a heart attack for fun." Price quipped, finishing your sentence.

Your eyes rolled, frustration growing rampant like a disease over your face. An infection that Sherriff Price wasn't so susceptible to being a victim of. One bushy brow rose at your childish irritation from the denial he and his men had rubbed into your face time and time again. "Rowdy teens just don't make a grown-ass man disappear without a trace. Rowdy teens aren't capable of breaking cleanly into my home and not stealing anything of value." Your voice raised, brows pitching up and causing frown lines to crack along your smooth features.

"And rowdy teens don't scare the fuck out of me and make me want to look over my shoulder from now on after tonight. There's someone out there who is taunting me, and I want him or she or them to leave me alone." You're standing by this point. Chair kicked out behind you, your hands slammed down onto your table. Hot black caffeine spills over the dark marble of your dining room table. You're glaring daggers into the older man's eyes and he gobbles it all up without even a reaction to your worked-up outburst. He's not afraid of little girls screaming and trying to embarrass him, he's dealt with all of this before. Not this scenario, but high and haughty women who thought they were number one.

Price blinks, takes a step back silently, and turns his head to address another policeman loitering around; unsure what to do. "Have one of the guys do a stake out for twenty-four hours around her home, if anything is outta place you call me right away." Then he turns his gaze back to you, smiles that forced smile one makes when they're uncomfortable. Eyes crinkled with a lack of warmth that only manages to irk you further than comfort you. Temporary support does little to quell the ball of a bundle of nerves that is your nervous system right now.

"Have a good night, miss." Price dismisses himself. That awful cigar of his shoved back into his mouth and steps back out the front door. His men follow that were lingering inside your space, all except for the deputy that had been interrogating you. That's supposed to be your rough and rugged surveillance system for the next twenty-four hours until you can justify scraping enough money aside to get your surveillance just for this place.

Price exhales a continuous cloud of smokey grey into the night air. His head tipped back enough to trace out a few major constellations in the sky with curiosity, all while the other two cop cars that were parked out front drove off nonchalantly.

Bright teeth, stained slightly yellow from tobacco clamp further into the cigar's end while he fishes out of his many pockets a cell phone. Pretty outdated, the screen is cracked and the little processor moves at a snail's pace. A real piece of shit technology that holds a few private numbers that aren't saved under any typical name.

His gloved thumb jams against the screen a few times on one of those particular contacts and he holds the cell to his ear whilst unlocking the driver's side of his car and climbing inside. Cigar stamped out into the ever-growing ashes of his ashtray, he taps his fingers against the steering wheel in wait. The line rings once, twice, and on the third ring the call is picked up and a deeper British voice answers in a grunt of a ' hello ' to Price.

"You've got one hell of a firecracker there, Riley." Price cracks out, tone joking. "You've worked the little bird up into a tizzy, she seemed ready to jump 'cross the table for me."

The other voice only gives out a scoff, a monotone 'really?' . Price can only picture the hint of a cruel smile curling on the ends of Simon's lips now. "Boys' are none the wiser, I'll tell 'em it was just a bad prank gone wrong. The station will be none the wiser. Poor blokes." He chuffs. The engine of his car starts, and he reverses out of the drive. The silhouettes of his deputy and you awkwardly standing in your living room window bring another good-humored huff out of his ash-riddled lungs. "Don't make me bury your girl under missing person reports if you're too rough with 'er." Price mutters low over the line. Simon only scoffs on the receiving end, like he'd never hurt his precious girl. He'd be damned if you were taken from him by his own hands.

"Jus' keep an eye on her when I can't. " His voice rumbles like thunder in Price's ear, then hangs up the call with a sullen click.

Price sighs, tossing the backup cell in his passenger seat. His dark eyes focus on the lonely road back into the city. His radio in the car is buzzing with life of officer chatter, but he's not paying much attention. He's got to figure out how to stuff this darker piece of work underneath a rug without leaving wrinkles of his involvement behind. The old man was never one for the double life. A charming foreigner passed for a white-collared American who was there for the people at every righteous beck and call of his name. Then a grimy soldier for the kind of men that worked on setting the bastards that cops or other forces of power were too busy or pussy to end the right way; with a bullet in the head and their name smeared in blood as a warning for other bastards to behave or else.

A kind of work he did far before the ' never do no wrong' persona of his was adopted onto him. Now juggling both for one of his boys? Someone that he even dared to be considered as close as family to him? What had he gotten himself into, all for the sake of some weird iteration of what Simon called infatuation and obsession for a pretty little thing he only saw for one night and wouldn't stop planning on when to see her next. Price wanted to call him crazy when Simon opened his mouth and asked if he could do him a favor. Lie. Lie and cover his white English ass as much as he could just till Simon could convince his new obsession to think about him in the same way he thought about her. Convincing was putting it lightly, but Price didn't second guess or even ask. He knew what it was like when the parasitic love bug decided to rear its ugly head and bite you clear on the ass when it wanted to. Back when he was a younger man, back in his prime he had a sweetie. Soft and curvy, supple and sweet under his lips and to his heart. A fond memory he likes to include when he thinks about family from time to time. Something of his past he's left behind for a new rendition of a family that was strong men, sweat, blood, near-death experiences, and bonding over strong liquor after their work.

Anything for them, he supposes while he turns the car towards the station for the biggest sack of shit he could regurgitate out of his aging vocal cords and lets it spill in sticky white lies to doe-eyed men and women who wouldn't think twice to clean record Sheriff John Price.

"If you need anything, here's a walkie. Can't give out personal cells to citizens, but I'll be in range for us to talk." Deputy Dipshit tells you when the loud slam of car doors and the starting of engines signal the squad's retreat along with the Sheriff's.

You frown down at the cold chunk of plastic that was pressed into your smooth palm by the male. You feel immature even to be using this thing. But you don't argue, or say how stupid it is not just to use cell phones for this one dire situation. You accept the stupid walkie with little dignity that was now washed away by telling the police what exactly you and Graves were doing before he was attacked and taken away.

The walkie is tossed onto your neatly made mattress, weariness makes your eyes droop and your hands rub at your face. At least you're alone now, your crappy watchdog is settled inside his vehicle, protected by his sidearm and tazer. Your feet blindly patter against the dark cherry oak of your bedroom floor a ragged breath of exhaustion leaks out of your lungs like a deflating balloon. You pray to whatever gods or goddesses up there in the cosmos, watching over every single little thing with sadistic eyes, that they are protecting Graves. You could never stomach the fact that somehow you managed to get him killed for even touching you or being in your presence. You're not that special or even have that much power to illicit someone to commit manslaughter just because they were jealous or overprotective.

That's something from a fucked up dark romance novel that has mentally ill women squirting over the tall morally grey character that would do anything for their love interest.

Your phone screen buzzes from your bedside table, the obnoxious vibrations and chirpy ringtone of ' Kim Possibles ' phone ringtone blares into the short-lived silence and the even shorter prayer you were making for a man you barely even knew.

" Give me a break!" you groan out between clenched teeth that temporarily bore in a snarl to your lit-up screen. You shouldn't act like that, what if it was your friends reaching out to check in on you? They knew Graves was coming over to visit you and to ' catch up ' in more ways than one, maybe this was them poking their noses into your business and wondering how good Graves managed to fuck you silly five ways from Sunday. If only.

Another deflated-like balloon sigh and you snatch up your phone to see who texted you. Yet as much as you would kill for the spam of messages that would spew from Izzy and Veronica about how well-endowed and lickable Graves was in all his glory, it was far from their girlish text messages. An unknown number glared up at you. The notification on your locked phone screen, which was a picture of you and your childhood dog in your old home smiling at the camera, showed that the random number had texted you.

"Guess the police actually can text you, who knew." You mumbled under your breath, your tone still acidic on your tongue while you unlocked your phone and tapped on your message app to open the chat and read the text without even hesitating to check over the number thoroughly.

"Hello there, pretty girl." the text read.

#cod x female reader #cod x reader #simon x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #phillip graves #john price #little mouse series #little mouse #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat

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justkeepshippingg · 1 month ago

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Cherry bomb Part 3: a Caitvi Hate fuck fanfic

Summary: She gives in. She lets Vi top her. Fuck if she hasn’t been waiting for this all night. Part one: Cait’s POV Part two: Vi's POV

Cait lays on her back in the mess of Vi’s room. Her plump ass sinks into unmailed letters and abandoned lids and liquor bottles, red ones and green ones and purple ones that glimmer when they catch the light of the fire. She leans back on her forearms and digs her nails into the earth below her. She looks up at Vi, and she’d swear there’s still love in her eyes even here, even now, with her pupils blown and her need a raging fire warming her cheeks.

Vi, on her knees, between her knees, and her entire expression is wide open: bright-eyed and lips parted with the force of her breath, the way she fucking pants for her, for Cait, and the way Cait knows she’s panting right back.

“Fuck you,” Vi says, the scar on her lip jumping as she speaks, “for looking so good right now.”

Cait loses all patience and flings her body upward, wrapping her arms around Vi until her elbows lock behind her tattooed neck. Vi grabs her with one hand digging into the curve of her shoulder blade and the other at her face, thumb on her cheek, her jaw, her throat. Open mouths meet and part and lick. Cait loses track of who is kissing who, who is touching who, who forces their mouths nice and wide and spits, who shudders and swallows, who drags nails down and down and down and who’s in charge, here, really?

“You look,” Cait says, “beautiful.”

Vi looks away. “Get on your knees.”

The answer is clear. Cait is being forced onto her hands and knees and her tits spill out of her bra and meet the ground. She wishes they were at her place with their scraped knees and fevered palms on lush carpet with a drawer full of straps nearby. She remembers the one time she came closer to asking Vi to let her wear it and hates herself for not opening her mouth.

She gives in. She lets Vi top her.

Fuck if she hasn’t been waiting for this all night.

“Is this okay?” Vi grunts into her ear as she tugs her clothes off, treating Cait like she’s a doll, but also like she’s a princess. Sure, Vi’s hands are rough, with callouses that scrape at the wide curve of Caitlyn’s hip, but her lips kiss at Caitlyn’s throat like she might still love her. The balance of it, pleasure and pain, is what gets Caitlyn to answer by sliding her thighs further apart and letting Vi take over. She feels the cool air hit her center and a jolt of wetness follows. Full , she wants to be full. She wants Vi to wear her like a puppet, elbow-deep in her.

Cait hears, from her position bent right into the ground, as Vi removes her own clothing. She wants to turn around and watch as each muscle is revealed, but that’s not the game. She follows the rules. She feels, with her forehead thrust into the sad wooden floor, Vi grip her hips and sighs into the skin of her back. Vi bites, one side and the other of her fleshy hips, her wet mouth marking Caitlyn. Vi’s entire front comes to rest, heavy and sweaty, on Caitlyn’s back, and she gives her her full weight, a sort of gift. Unspoken communication: You have me . All of me.

They both shiver as heat tears its way through their bodies.

Cait can feel the heat of Vi’s own cunt against her ass, and she feels sweat begin to pour down her cheeks.

Vi rolls two fingers at Cait’s entrance, slipping through her from behind, calloused fingertips against soft, soaked folds, moving easily. How many times have I come? Cait wonders, and then she wonders, much more importantly: how many times will I, now?

Vi answers by shoving her pointer and middle finger inside of Cait’s entrance, spongy and waiting and so far gone it’s not even funny. Any teasing is gone. The sound is obscene. Cait groans, her sounds matched by the ones that tear out of Vi’s throat, her mouth right by Cait’s ear, her breath hot and alcohol-sweet. Vi’s too-long hair sweeps along Caitlyn’s spine, creating a strangely soothing sensation as Vi fucks her in earnest, Vi’s front body rutting against Caitlyn’s back. She grunts and groans, shifting her hips and trying to get closer to the feeling starting to boil low in her cunt.

Each thrust brings their bodies closer, and each thrust brings Caitlyn closer to another orgasm. She bites down on her bottom lip to try and silence the keening that rips past her lips. Vi grips the back of Cait’s throat with her free hand and squeezes slightly. “Oh, Cait,” Vi groans. “You’re being so good for me.”

Caitlyn feels it: the white heat tearing from her toes and up her ankles, wrapping around her ankles like teasing fingertips before darting up her knees, her thighs, her ass, finding itself at her center, the heat a sprint that rushes her core all at once. Cait shudders, wet pouring from her and soaking her all the way down the front of her thighs. Her entire face is damp with what might be tears and what might be sweat. She feels the heat of Vi behind her, her cunt pulsing at her low back.

“I need,” Caitlyn pants. “A second.”

“No,” Vi says, but her fingers still.

Alarm flushes through Caitlyn. “No?”

“You don’t really need a break,” Vi whispers, her own hips still rolling at Caitlyn’s ass, “do you, Cupcake?”

Caitlyn’s surprised to feel something like lust seize her. “I…” She considers. “I suppose I could try,” her voice drops. “For you, Violet.”

“Look at you,” Vi says. Her voice is light, pleased, but Caitlyn knows the use of her full name hits her. “What a very, very good girl.”

Vi begins to move again, and Caitlyn shouts, curses pouring from her lips. Two fingers has become three, quickly becoming four and stretching Caitlyn’s insides. Vi’s fingers thrust hard and fast, no loving curls or attempts to hit her g-spot happening here. Instead, they move with purpose, pushing and pushing and pushing, their ramming speed only softened by Caitlyn’s wet curls at their base.

“Oh my god,” Cait says. “Oh, Vi.” It’s already starting, that build-up, shakier and unsure of itself as it starts right at Caitlyn’s cunt. There is no flutter. It’s a simple burst, an explosion hurtling Caitlyn higher and higher as she groans through her orgasm, squeezing around Vi’s fingers.

“Can you take more?” Vi asks. Her body is soaked with Caitlyn’s come and their sweat and Caitlyn wonders as she feels wetness pouring down her ass if Vi just came from rutting around on top of her.

The thought of it is enough to fuel Caitlyn through her desire to, simply, go to sleep. “ Yes ,” Caitlyn says, her cheek aching where it’s pressed against the floor.

“Come here,” Vi says. Her voice is softer now as she shifts Caitlyn back. She plants one of Caitlyn’s hands on the floor, and then her other. She brings Caitlyn to sit on her front and reaches around, rolling her fingers through Caitlyn’s curls and right to her clit.

Caitlyn flinches. She’s so sensitive that she can’t tell if it hurts, or if she’s closer to god than she’s ever been and ever will be. Her entire being is consumed with that zip of lightning concentrated at her core. Her thighs are shaking, her lips are trembling, and she kind of wants to rear back and slap Vi right in the face when Vi presses down hard on her clit.

Vi must notice the shift in Caitlyn’s energy as she shudders. “Trust me,” Vi whispers, her lips right at Caitlyn’s ears. She drags her tongue along the outer edge of her ear, bringing it lower and lower, through the damp blue hairs curling around her ear and her neck.

She sinks her teeth into Caitlyn’s neck and smacks her, hard, on her cunt.

Something brand new rips through Caitlyn, and, mouth open in a silent scream, she collapses into Vi’s waiting arms.

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absolutebl · 1 year ago

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All BLs from 2023

that I tracked, may not be exhaustive for some regions. Only BLs that ended in 2023 are included in this list.

LAYOUT: Title - sub/alt title - rating/10 - where to find it (with a US IP, if on multiples channels only one listed)

China & Hong Kong

Stay With Me AKA Addicted + fuck you fans - dnf - grey

Stay Still - 7 - YouTube

Japan

Blue Sky Complex - cnf - ?

Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? - cnf - ?

Candy Color Paradox AKA Ameiro Paradox - 8 - Gaga

Egoist - dnf - ?

I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai - 10 - Net

If It’s With You AKA Even If I Fall In Love With You AKA Kimi to nara Koi wo Shite Mite mo’ - 7 - Gaga

Jack o'Frost - 5 - Gaga

Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo Tabetai - 6 - Gaga

Minato's Laundromat Season 2 AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry Season 2 - 6 - Gaga

My Beautiful Man 2 AKA Utsukushii Kare Season 2 - 8 - Viki

My Beautiful Man: Eternal AKA Utsukushii Kare Eternal - 8 - Viki

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho - 9 - Gaga

Naked Dinner AKA Zenra Meshi - 7 - Gaga

One Room Angel - dnf - Gaga

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku - 9 - Gaga

The End Of The World, With You AKA Bokura no Micro na Shuumatsu - 6 - Gaga

Tokyo in April is AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa - 8 - Viki

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 - 100 - Gaga

Korea

A Breeze of Love - 8 - iQIYI

A Shoulder to Cry On AKA Comfort the Boy - 4 - Viki

All the Liquors AKA - Liquor - 8 - Viki

Behind the Shadows - cnf - ?

Bump Up Business - 6 - Gaga

Happy Merry Ending - 8 - Viki

Individual Circumstances - 7 - Viki

Jun and Jun - Jun & Jun - 9 - viki

Love Class 2 AKA Love Class Season 2 - 8 - Viki

Love Mate - 8 - Viki

Love Tractor - 9 - iQIYI

Our Dating Sim - 10 - Viki

Our Winter - 5 - YouTube

Sing My Crush AKA Follow The Wind - 8 - iQIYI

Star Struck AKA Starstruck - 6 - iQIYI

The Director Who Buys Me Dinner - 6 - iQIYI

The Eighth Sense - 9 - Viki

The New Employee AKA The New Recruit AKA Shinib Sawo - 9 - Viki

Unintentional Love Story - 9 - iQIYI

Why R U? - (Korean adaptation of Thai original) - 8 - iQIYI

Myanmar

The Love Ring - dnf - YouTube

The Philippines

Ever After - dnf - YouTube

My Story - dnf - YouTube

Our Story - dnf - Oxin Films

Stay - dnf - YouTube

The Day I Loved You - dnf - YouTube

Tie The Not AKA Under the Same Sky - 7 - Prime

Singapore

Pure Vanilla - Singapore - 7 - Gaga

Taiwan

HIStory5: Love In The Future (HIStory 5) - 7 - Viki

Kiseki: Dear to Me - (formerly Miracle) - 9 - Gaga

My Tooth Your Love - 8 - Viki

Stay By My Side - 8 - Viki

You Are Mine - 7 - Gaga

Thailand

609 Bedtime Story - (OhmFluke) - 6 - WeTV

7 Days Before Valentine - cnf - One31

A Boss and a Babe - (ForceBook) - 7 - YouTube

Absolute Zero - 6 - iQIYI

After Sundown AKA Saengrawi - (ZeeNew) - cnf - ?

Bake Me Please - 6 - Gaga

Be Mine Super Star Superstar - (JaFirst) - 6 - Viki

Be My Favorite - AKA You Are My Favorite - 8 - YouTube

Bed Friend - (NetJames) - 8 - YouTube

Between Us - (BounPrem) - 8 - iQIYI

Beyond the Star - dnf - iQIYI

Boyband the series - 3 - grey

Cafe In Love - 3 - grey

Chains of Heart - 3 - iQIYI

Cherry Magic (Thai remake) - (TayNew) - cnf - YouTube

Chiang Mai Adventures - 100 - subscribers only

Colorful Melody - cnf - WeTV

Crazy Handsome Rich - dnf - Gaga

Cutie Pie 2 You special - (ZeeNuNew TutorYim MaxNat) - 7 - YouTube

Dangerous Romance - (PerthChimon) - 8 - YouTube

Dear Kitakyushu - cnf - ?

Destiny Seeker - (EarthBank) - 8 - WeTV

Dinosaur Love - Buddy Line Y Animal AKA Buddy Line Y(aoi) Animal - dnf - iQIYI

Friend. Boy Friend - cnf - ?

Future the series - 7 - YouTube

Hidden Agenda - (JoongDunk) - 8 - YouTube

Hit Bite Love AKA - Hit Bite Lick - 3 - YouTube

House of Stars - dnf - iQIYI

I Feel You Linger in the Air - 9 - grey

I Will Knock You - 5 - Gaga

La Pluie - 9 - Viki

Laws of Attraction - 9 - iQIYI

Love in Translation - 6 - iQIYI

Love Syndrome III - characters from Unforgotten Night - 100 - WeTV

Low Frequency - 6 - iQIYI

Make a Wish - 8 - grey

Man Suang - (MileApo) - cnf - ?

Middleman’s Love - (TutorYim) - 6 - iQIYI

Moments Of Love - cnf - ?

Moonlight Chicken - (EarthMix) - 8 - YouTube

My Biker - cnf - ?

My Blessing - 2 - YouTube

My Dear Gangster Oppa - 8 - iQIYI

My School President - (GeminiFourth) - 9 - YouTube

My Universe - Casanova Begins - 2 - iQIYI

My Universe - Fake Love - 4 - iQIYI

My Universe - Pisces of Me - 4 - iQIYI

My Universe - The Camp Fire - 5 - iQIYI

My Universe - Marry Go Round - 5 - iQIYI

My Universe - Right Time, Right You - 5 - iQIYI

My Universe - You Are My Soulmate - 6 - iQIYI

My Universe - Lucky Love - 7 - iQIYI

Naughty Babe - (MaxNat) - 8 - iQIYI

Never Let Me Go - (PondPhuwin) - 8 - YouTube

Night Dream - dnf - YouTube

Only Friends - (ForceBook) - 3 - YouTube

Our Skyy 2: A Boss and a Babe - (ForceBook) - 6 - YouTube

Our Skyy 2: A Tale of Thousand Stars - (EarthMix) - 8 - YouTube

Our Skyy 2: Bad Buddy - (OhmNanon) - 8 - YouTube

Our Skyy 2: My School President - (GeminiFourth) - 8 - YouTube

Our Skyy 2: Never Let Me Go - (PondPhuwin) - 8 - YouTube

Our Skyy 2: Star in My Mind - (JoonDunk) - 8 - YouTube

Our Skyy 2: The Eclipse - (FirstKhao) - 8 - YouTube

Our Skyy 2: Vice Versa - (JimmySea) - 6 - YouTube

Pastsenger AKA - Past-senger - 4 - Gaga

Remember Me - (JaFirst) - 5 - Gaga

Senior Love Me - 3 - YouTube

SHADOW - dnf - x

Step By Step - 9 - Gaga

The Luminous Solution - 3 - Gaga

The Promise - 4 - YouTube

The Whisperer - cnf - ?

Till the World Ends - dnf - grey

Tin Tem Jai - 5 - Gaga

Tin Tem Jai special - 4 - YouTube

Venus in the Sky - 5 - iQIYI

Wedding Plan - 7 - YouTube

Vietnam

Love Bill - source title: - LỜI HỨA MÙA HẠ - dnf - YouTube

Mr Cinderella 2 - dnf - YouTube

Stormy Honeymoon - dnf - YouTube

Stupid Genius - 7 - YouTube

The Star Always Follow You - Lấp Lánh Tựa Ánh Sao Trời - dnf - YouTube

Vian the series - (Bah Vinh) - 4 - YouTube

cnf = could not find

dnf = did not finish

requested by @guzhu-furen

#I didn't tidy this up #sorry #just copy and paste and clean it as needed #all the bls i tracked in 2023 #thai bl #korean bl #japanese bl #asian bl #asian dramas #pinoy bl #vietnamese bl #hong kong bl #chinese bl #singapore bl #taiwanese bl

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wild-god-nick-cave · 3 months ago

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I wanna take you out, an innocent and sweet gesture. Wanna take you out to get drinks and watch as you become a slurring mess. Watch as you intoxicate yourself on the shots and the pints. I’ll buy them for you, darlin’. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head over anythin’, you just keep raising the bottle to your pretty cherry lips. You tell me all about whatever your fuzzy mind comes up with, I’ll sit and listen to your slurred speech. You only need to think about keepin’ on pouring the liquor into your mouth. Then I’ll walk you home, watch as you stumble and grip my fingers tighter, trying to feign sobriety for me. When you tumble through my front door and once we’re safe inside, closing the night out. I’ll push you up against the wall, make you feel my erection. Purr in your ear, tellin’ you how pretty you look when you’re all fucked up. How much you turn me on when you’re slurring and lookin’ all dumb for me. I’ll press my body real close to you, make you feel all giddy and excited. Then I’ll pick you up, cos you can barely walk a step without tumbling or falling. Carry you to our bed, and you can leave soppy wet kisses along my neck, and I’ll throw you down upon your back. You can look up at me with your dilated pupils and hazy gaze. You’re so spaced out, huh, darlin? Can barely think? Well that okay, darlin’ I’ll do all the thinkin for you. I’ll pleasure you just how you like it. And I can use you, huh, darlin’? Cos you can’t complain. You’re far too wasted to complain when I fuck you so deep and make you so very full with my cock, huh darlin? I’ll use you like the toy you are. Flip you onto your stomach and fuck your arse u til your screaming my name into the pillows. I’ll use you darlin’. Make you my cum slut. Cos you’re too wasted to complain. You couldn’t complain when i put my shaft into your slurring mouth huh baby? Your eyes will water and you’ll gag, but you’ve been trained for this, huh my little dumb slut. You’re gonna be my good boy. I’ll use you ur body and cum inside you so many times you’ll be able to feel me whenever you move ❤️ you’ll be my good little dumb, slurring slut.

#this is shocking I’m sorry…#it is actually trash but my wife wanted it so…#i had to.

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bayblonde · 9 days ago

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Two Punks in Love - Chapter 3

Ch.3 What Are you?

You looked up at him as if thirsty for water after going years without it, and the scabs on his knuckles prickled along your face. His other thumb pressed into the center of your bottom lip, his fingerprint a cherry wine red.

“I’m a dead man walking,” he answered your question, leaning down so his lips were inches from yours. His breath smelled like rum and coke, his hair like the shampoo April used to keep in the guest bathroom.

If there are typos...no there are not (ignore them pls lol)

NSFW, gets pretty smutty there at some point. 18+

Mentions drinking, drugs

The shot glasses barely had a second to clatter back onto the kitchen counter before your roommate was filling them back up. Vodka burned at your throat. The room temperature liquor trickled down inside of you like the rain in the gutter by your bedroom window. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit into the old lemon slice that Cassie had hastily cut when you said you’d take a couple shots but only if there was a chaser. You lose your stomach much easier these days. You could almost laugh to yourself now…thinking about how you used to be able to shoot Jack Daniels straight with Ryan in the parking lot of the bowling alley he worked at for a summer. He was so angry when they fired him on his second week, even though he reeked of alcohol and pot. Bam would always act impressed at your poker face after a shot.

But Bam wasn’t here, and you did not laugh.

You simply grabbed your forehead and held up your palm to Cassie. She was already bouncing up and down dramatically and pouting.

“Nooo y/n! You can NOT be lame tonight. We are GOING to this party. I already told you-”

“I know, I know Cass…” You interrupted, reaching for the third shot in five minutes and recited the line that Cassie would not let you forget all night:

“Dico will be there! Dico will be there!” You did not have to pitch your voice up but in order to tease your best friend, you felt it was appropriate for the imitation.

Cassie was just happy you were accepting your fate and the next day’s hangover in order to please her.

The third shot turned into the fifth in a matter of minutes, and you both were shoving your feet into chunky black boots. The knee high knit socks made up for the mini skirt, or at least you hoped. It was an unseasonably cold night for Halloween in California. You couldn’t be too worried about the weather, really, when you knew you’d be crammed into Ryan’s tiny house with at least 60 sweaty, drunk, skater-degenerates soon. You suppose you had to add yourself to that guest list as well.

The satisfying crunch of your heels on the gravel behind Ryan’s pseudo-frat house rang like a rusted bell through the dark of night. A speaker playing music in the distance already sounded on the verge of blowing out. You rolled your eyes. Ryan always had a knack for pissing off his neighbors, no matter the street name.

“What are you supposed to be, anyways?” Cassie asked, the liquor sliding its way down her voice. The nylon of her skin-tight nurse costume squealed with every step forward.

You looked down at your half-baked and mismatched costume. An old black t-shirt that you cut with dull scissors and a red plaid skirt you stole from Hot Topic in high school. The socks and boots were to avoid freezing during the inevitable cigarette breaks out on the back porch. Bam always made fun of you for being such a “Cali priss” since he would spend holiday break with family back in Westchester.

“Now that's what real cold feels like, sweetheart,” he’d say, his lilted voice pushing every button inside of you, even now.

“I’m…a sexy school girl…duh…”

Cassie just laughed and pushed your shoulder.

“Shut up…you had no other costume,” she pulled out two shooters from her cleavage and shoved one into your hand. Your heels got caught in the crack in the sidewalk filled with wet green grass, sending you in an awkward, twisting fall to your knees. The plastic of the vodka bottle cried out as if to mock you, and you both laughed out loud, hard.

“God dammit, Cass! I am here busting my ass for you! Literally!” The nerves of seeing old friends and the vodka and your best friend all made you laugh harder than you ever would have alone. You always needed a hand to hold. Some hands were more hollow than others.

Face to face, illuminated by the orange and purple lights flashing out of Ryan’s windows, you take your sixth shot with Cassie in unison…and go in.

Ryan was leaning against the kitchen island, nursing a Bud Light and laughing about something with Brandon Dicamillo. The backwards hat and stained flannel reminded you of countless nights in Bam’s parent’s garage, the group of you dying of laughter to one of Dico’s many stories, fried out of your brains. The air smells like those nights, thick with tobacco and weed. Someone is screaming in the living room, followed by the sound of cups crashing onto the ground and raucous, boyish laughter. Cassie drags you into the kitchen and raises her arm as she announces your arrival.

“Hiiii boys!” Cassie sings out with confident glee. Brandon and Ryan look over towards the door frame in which you both stand with stupid, tipsy smiles and tattered purses.

Dico’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights when he saw Cassie, and his story no longer seemed so important as he pushed himself away from the counter.

“Cassie, baby. Come, come! We just must catch up.” His voice was as wickedly tilted as his smile, palm out to take hers.

Cassie giggled and took his hand. And just like that, they were lost to the dimly lit hallway scattered with fake spider webs and splatters of “blood.” A hanging skeleton smiled at you from the door frame they left behind, swinging from being knocked into by body after body. When you turned back, Ryan was staring at you.

Maybe it was the shots, but catching him by surprise gave you a cocky smile and a feeling of pride. Not prideful enough to fight your shyness. It had been years since you were in front of Ryan Dunn. The softness in his big eyes did get your apprehensive feet to step over towards him, however. The eye-patch and poorly taped parrot on his shoulder also helped lighten the awkward situation.

“Dude.” It was all he said, and his voice did not sound as soft as his eyes appeared. It was blunt and a little bit anxious. You squinted and pulled out the bottle that Cassie had stuffed into her purse that you now held as she hooked up with Dico in his trashed bedroom.

“Well it sure is nice to see you after all this time too, Ryan.” You appreciated how brave the plastic bottle of vodka made you, as well as the way it helped you drip with sarcasm.

This really should have prompted a witty but loving comeback from Ryan, but he just seemed too distracted by something behind you. Your heart could dig itself a deep grave in your belly, right then and there.

“You…have got…to be kidding me.” You were frozen still there on that sticky linoleum floor. The bottle hung by your exposed thigh.

His eyes focussed from behind you back in on your own, and he shook his head and couldn’t hold the laugh of disbelief any longer.

“Fuck no, y/n. How was I supposed to know you’d show up to this one party after ignoring the last 700 invitations?”

You damn near whimpered as you realized what you were going to have to do. You had to turn around at some point, even just to leave, and see him.

So you did what you knew could help numb this wound you were about to pick open. Ryan laughed and finished his beer while you took a swig of vodka from the bottle, palm hot and wrapped around the neck. As you wiped your stained-red lips, he yanked the bottle from your fist and smiled at you.

“It’s funny…this is the first time he’s shown up to one of my parties in years too…”

He took a shot from the bottle and turned to leave and flirt with the girl out in the backyard.

And because you told yourself you would, you swung one leg over the other and spun around. The metal of Cassie’s purse clipped the metal of your belly button piercing, and you pressed your lips together. Because you told yourself you would…you looked towards the back of the red-lit living room. Witches, aliens, cowboys and sexy police officers all danced and pushed against one another. The music vibrated the shitty drywall and the carpet had a crunchy texture beneath each foot step closer and closer to him.

Bam wasn’t much for costumes, either.

It was the first time in five years that you’d seen your ex-boyfriend and here he was. Twenty-three, taller, broader, hair shorter…and fake blood dripping from one corner of his mouth. Or at least you’d guessed it was fake on account of the holiday. You never really knew with Bam.

There he stood, head hung low and eyes watching you as if you were slowly being fed into his veins. You felt the same way, and kept stumbling closer and closer…

Like when the little pills would start to kick in, your proximity to Bam made you feel like being bathed in a saccharine sunshine. As euphoric as it was intoxicating.

The drums of the song blasting crashed together just as you reached him. It was as if you were both inside a wet, hot bubble of laughter, sweat, and alcohol, all sounds beginning to sound muffled. They were pushed through the bubble’s thick, saliva-coated membrane. Both of your focuses were locked on the other’s body. His chest rose and fell slowly and he looked down at you with a silly, sad, drunk look.

You were finally close enough for him to touch, and he knew your body so well. At least he had before it all went to shit.

Bam licked his lips and spoke,

“Hey…”

You did not know what you wanted, needed, or expected him to say, but it was not hey. He really could have said anything though, you’d be just as likely to stick to him like velcro. You looked up at him, your chest slowly closing the gap and pressing into his.

“What are you?” you asked. You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Bam smiled, his canines pressing into his bottom lip, those adorable smile lines framing his mouth just as before. Your chest unfurled and you could have sprouted wings then and there. He lifted his hand to gently grab the pieces of hair that had fallen around your face. You felt his skin burn deliciously against your cheek bone, your own complexion on fire.

You were watching him with stars in your heavy lidded eyes, and felt his other hand rest on your hip. The rough pad of his thumb pressed just above the buckle of your studded belt hanging along the top of your mini skirt. Just like riding a bike, his hands could recall how they touched and handled your body the more he allowed them to.

You looked up at him as if thirsty for water after going years without it, and the scabs along his knuckles prickled along your face. His other thumb pressed into the center of your bottom lip, his fingerprint a cherry wine red.

“Oh really?” as you spoke, Bam’s fingertip edged a bit deeper into your mouth, just ever so subtly. He nodded slowly down at you, your bodies starting to sway to the music that raged on around you. Maybe you noticed how he was leading you into the hallway, his pace so gradual.

“You look pretty damn alive to me,” you teased, biting down on his fingertip. He winced slightly and smiled wider, dark eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Consider me brought back to life, then, baby.”

And before you could remember why you said goodbye or how you’d feel about this tomorrow…your lips were on top of his. He’d led you both into the hallway towards the back of the house, where nobody was passed out drunk yet. Just your shoes were cast in a muddy golden glow of Ryan’s back door light, creeping in through dirty glass on the door.

His hands grabbed your hips hungrily and yanked your bottom half flush into his, leaning back against the wall to support your bodies. You bit his lip and ran your palms flat along his chest, coaxing a moan from his throat and straight down into yours. You drank each other in selfishly, his hands became greedy.

“Fuck,” you whimpered into Bam’s mouth as one hand snaked under your shirt and cupped your breast. He pushed your bra up and over your tits. His left hand rubbed up your thigh and underneath the pleats of your skirt. He squeezed your ass hard and you lost your hands in his hair, pressing his back into the wall firmly.

“I miss you,” Bam whispered between heavy, breathless kisses. The sugar on both your tongues mixes in your mouths.

“I need you,” you replied, hands unbuckling his belt. You turned and dragged him through the door behind you, hand wrapped around the waistband of his jeans. He laughed and bit his lipstick-stained lip.

“Always yours.”

And as his foot slammed the door shut behind you both, bodies crashing into the wood and getting lost in the shadowed darkness, you fell onto your knees and pulled his pants down with you.

“Holy shit,” Bam threw his head back and lost his breath over his excitement as you took him into your mouth. The numbness in your throat helped you accommodate his length, spit stringing down your chin and absolutely drenching him. Bam could never leave you down there long, however, not without his turn for fun.

He lifted you up and sat you hastily on the desk next to the door. Your back nearly knocked over an old lamp, head knocking into the shade.

“Sorry, pretty girl,” Bam apologized, voice thick with lust. He made it up to you down on his knees now, curls tickling your inner thighs. Pulling your panties to the side and glancing up at you one more time, his eyes asked for permission to taste you after all this time. You nodded quickly and grabbed his curls, legs spreading obediently and eagerly for him.

“What a good girl,” Bam smiled coyly up at you, then lowered his head. His tongue pressed torturously down onto your bundle of nerves, hands gripping the back of your legs. You moaned his name like a prayer and this only made him work harder.

“Love to hear you say my name, pretty girl.” He lifted two digits to his mouth to suck and plunged them slowly inside of you. He cursed at how wet and warm you felt around his fingers, knuckles deep, then got back to lapping you up. You threw your head back, hair swinging down onto the dusty lamp shade, hard wires pressing into the back of your skull. Bam took you and guided your body back and forth, rocking to the rhythm of your building orgasm.

“Can I feel you tonight, baby girl?” Bam asked politely, paired with the squelching sounds of his tongue running circles in and out of you.

“Please,” you begged, voice cracking, hands clasping the edge of the desk. A white hot heat was rising up your stomach, as white as your knuckles. Bam stood and lined himself up, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“I wanna hear you say my name, baby.”

“Please, Bam. Please fuck me Bam.”

“Thank you, good girl.” And he pushed inside of you at an achingly patient pace. Both of your jaws dropped, noses touching. Bam’s hands grabbed your hips as he worked his way in and out, deeper and harder with every thrust. You felt your legs start to quiver and reached up to hold onto his broad shoulders for support as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. I’ve got you.” His words sent you careening to your climax, golden stars lining your vision as you shouted his name alongside God’s.

Bam pulled out shortly after and came all over his hand and your thighs. Your forehead rested on his shoulder, he kissed your sweaty hair.

You both took a moment to exhale, listening to each other’s breathing. Just as he buckled his pants and you set yourself back onto unsteady, sexed out legs, the door opened just a crack. Red light and music slithered just past the door frame, and Ryan’s face squeezed into the crack. His eye patch was askew and his parrot was nowhere to be seen. A couple fresh lipstick kisses lined the collar of his shirt and center of his neck. He had a dumb, proud smile. You cursed, taken by surprise, and Bam looked at him over his shoulder and shook his head.

“Fuck off, Dunn. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Ryan said.

You fixed your hair in the spotty mirror on the wall and opened the door fully, sending Ryan’s shoulder to knock into the frame. He looked at you with half-assed anger. He was simply too excited to tease you both about this to feel mad.

“I’m gonna kick your ass Ryan.”

Bam laughed and stepped up behind you, body framing yours just as it always did. Protecting, waiting, and patient.

“You guys are both right. I’m an asshole. Sorry for inviting you to my Halloween party. What a dick.” Ryan shook his head and faked a solemn look down at the floorboards.

You and Bam rolled your eyes and pushed past Ryan. He took his jacket off and placed it on your shoulders as you both walked out the front door and onto the cold wet front lawn.

You took out a cigarette and Bam was pulling out a light before it could settle in between your lips.

“Thanks,” you said and took a long drag.

“You come here alone?” Bam asked, hands shoved inside his pockets.

“Cass,” you answered, handing him the cig.

He took it and smiled before smoking it.

“I’m sure Dico is happy about that.”

“He’s sucking her toes in his bedroom as we speak, I’m sure of it.”

Bam held his stomach and let out a loud, sweet laugh. He sounded like he did in high school, voice cracking and awkward. He always sounded more boyish when he was drunk.

You looked over at him as he laughed and couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

It started to drizzle as you two shared the cigarette in silence, the party escalating behind you.

“You uh…can I walk you home?” Bam asked after the rain had a chance to pool around your boots, grass and mud encasing your feet.

You turned around towards the house and tried to recall where you left Cassie’s purse. You knew she’d stay the night with Dico and that she’d prefer to walk back in the morning after a couple Red Bulls and Advils.

“You dropped her purse back in the living room when we…” Bam started and got shy.

“I’ll go tell Ryan to take care of it, and be right back.”

Bam walked back inside and came out holding your jacket, purse, and two soda cans. You laughed and took a can. Bam placed the hood of your jacket on your head and draped it over his own jacket that encased your body, and turned you down the empty street.

You let him take your hand and let your brain doze off, let yourself feel this waking dream. He told you about his breakfast with Phil and April that morning after he flew in from Philly. You told him about the bitch you had to deal with at the restaurant and he listened.

Neither of you mentioned what happened or what all of this could mean. You just let one another be what they were, right here…right now. Even if you didn’t know what that was.

It wasn’t until you got to your front door and pushed your cold, brass key into the lock that Bam scrunched his eyebrows at you and tilted his head.

“What are you supposed to be, by the way?” He asked.

“I’m a sexy school girl…I guess…” You said, pushing the door open and walking in, leaving it open. An invitation.

You turned to see Bam standing right outside the frame; a gentle, happy…and almost grateful smile crept onto his face. He looked at you…really taking you in.

“What?” You asked, standing awkwardly on your welcome mat, hands clasped around the handles of your purse.

Bam just shook his head and stepped inside and past you, kicking the door closed behind him.

“Nothing, pretty girl.” He called out as he walked into your living room, a dull lantern light casting along the room from the corner.

You took a deep breath and followed him. It was never just nothing with you and Bam.

And that was okay.

#Two Punks in Love #my writing #bam margera #bam margera fan fiction #bam margera smut #ryan dunn #cky #cky fan fiction #jackass #mtv jackass #jackass fanfic #brandon dicamillo #chris raab #bam margera x female reader #bam margera x reader #johnny knoxville #chris pontius #steve o

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thedaylighteffect · 1 year ago

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An Unscheduled Encounter

(OC x GN/Masculine-ish Reader)

TW: Smoking, alcohol, “getting high”, flirty stuff, NSFW. It gets a bit shitty near the end. NOT PROOFREAD. Gender neutral due to the lack of pronouns addressing the reader.

The scent of smoke and sweat choked the air as you forced past the partying mass with your umteenth empty drink. You stumbled towards the metallic bar table and set your empty glass on the cold surface with a clink.

“A Manhattan, please,” you muttered, retrieving your box of cigarettes from your suit and igniting the blank rear of the little stick.

The bartender took the cue and began fixing up a drink.

You sat on the barstool and sobered up with a cigarette, your feet tapped to the muted bass of the music. Your gut churned as a cloud of smoke from your lips washed a wave of regret over your head. Going to your high school reunion was a mistake.

Your fingers relieved the tie around your neck, and with a sigh— you freed yourself from the uppermost buttons of your shirt— exposing your collarbones. You watched the bartender's hands as he slipped the drink in your direction; all you did was sit there and blink at the swirling golden-red alcohol, your appetite disappearing in a blink. The cigarette in your hand flickered under the dim lights.

"What? Not feeling like drinking anymore? I just watched you down three of those glasses like it was nothing." A voice dangerously close to your ear spoke up— you could feel the little puffs of breath between each word. You jumped, almost dropping your cigarette on the table. The muscles on your neck tensed. You instantly recognized who it was, so you kept your eyes to yourself.

Little specks of ash fluttered onto your suit as you brought the wrapped leaf up your lips and drew a deep breath. Goosebumps rose on your neck as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to keep your heartbeat from climbing up your ears.

"I never struck you as a smoker," he said.

Your eyes stayed glued on the drink as the voice sat up and posed comfortably on the bar chair beside you. The man leaned forward in your direction, but you instinctively recoiled, avoiding the heat from his body.

You peeled your eyes off your drink, turned at the voice, and met a familiar sight. The soft hair, glowing eyes, and the softest smile— You were sure it was over by now, but your heart had other thoughts.

"Oh," was the maximum reaction you could push through your psychoactive head as the man took the glass from your fingertips and brought it to his lips with a smile.

This certainly wasn't on the agenda today.

You sat in embarrassing silence as you watched him swirl the glass of Manhattan between his slender fingertips. You swallowed as you avoided his gaze, taking rhythmic puffs from your cigarette. A beat later, he spoke up.

"Don't ignore me. Not when you're dressed so fancily in that suit of yours," he said, shattering the loud wall of silence between you. His cold fingers grasped your chin and brought it close to his face, "What's the matter? Last time I remember, you loved looking at me."

Your face flushed a scalding red; you attempted to pull back from him, "That...that-"

He interrupted, "You came here to see me," he said with a confident look, his fingers released your chin.

Bingo.

You rubbed the area where he touched— the place felt like a brand on your chin. Maybe it was the effects of the smoke, but you've accepted defeat long ago, "And what if I did?" you shot back.

“That’d be quite the compliment,” He swirled the glass again and sipped at it elegantly. You watched in silent awe as he wet his lips with the bitter liquor. The neon red maraschino cherry glistened and bobbed in the alcohol as he tipped the glass. He hummed, “You do seem like the person to drink a Manhattan,” he licked the rim of the glass, “It’s bitter-sweet, just like you.”

“Are you inferring I fall into the sentimental category? I promise you, I am quite far from that,” you scowled softly. The smoke was definitely getting to your head.

“And what if I did?” He echoed your words.

Oh, he was teasing you.

He turns away and mindlessly sips on your drink. You silently wished that those lips of his were sipping on something else.

“...says the one drinking a Manhattan right now.”

“It’s yours.”

“It still counts.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly not letting the thought get to his head, “Then how about I order you a Dry Martini?” He smiled, turning towards you. His deep ocean-breeze cologne washed over your nose for a brief second.

It suits him.

You frowned, “Not the best fan, though I do appreciate it if you bought me a drink,” you glared at the martini glass in his hand.

His eyes trace your line of sight, and a dry laugh rings from his throat. He sets the drink on the bar and slides the half-sipped Manhattan back to you, “For you.”

You stared at the mahogany drink and looked back at him, “What’s the meaning?”

“What do you think?” He rests his face on his fist and taps the corner of his lip with another finger. You exchanged over to the drink and noticed the faint prints of his lip on the edge of the glass.

You take out the maraschino cherry and slip the stem between your ring and middle finger before gracefully tipping the glass to your lips. The composure quickly breaks as you toss your head back and down the drink.

You met his eyes, “It tastes good, better, actually. But I’m sure the real thing tastes the best.”

He chuckles at your words, “You’re quite the word wizard when you’re drunk and high.” He turns his whole body towards you and crosses his legs.

Yeah, you were definitely drunk and high. But you didn’t care.

You crushed the half-burnt cigarette in your hand and put the glass back down. Standing up from your seat, you stepped closer and bent down to reach his height, “So when can I get it?”

His icy fingers grace your exposed collarbone, landing a shiver down your spine. With a single thought, he meets your eyes with a sly smile.

“How about you earn it?”

Maybe this wasn’t so much of a mistake.

The bitterness of his liquor stained lips intertwined with yours, creating a swirling concoction inside your heart. Suddenly, it was just the two of you in this little world. The outside world was muted, silent, separated from you.

“Let’s take it to a more secluded place,” his voice felt like a loud tenor in your ear as you nodded mindlessly with his arms around your waist.

–

As soon as the door clicks, your back is pressed up against the wall with a bang, numbing your senses. His face was close to yours as his eyes gazed lustfully into yours. His slender finger caresses your face, “Your lips look so delicious,” with a single breath, he licks your mouth, and kiss you deeply.

Your body twists as his cold fingers travel down your side and slip into the waistband of your pants, “Your fingers are so cold,” you complain under your breath, to which he smiles in reply.

“And you are very warm, darling.” His voice carried a hint of mockery as he eased your pants down to your knees.

Your legs grow weak as his fingers caress your thighs and sex. A soft moan escapes your lips as he grazes the spot that causes your stomach to catch in your throat. His fingers continue to minister the area until you unwind with a soft scream in his hands.

He brings his fingers to his tongue and slowly licks your essence off of his slender hand, "You taste wonderful, especially after that little drink of yours," your face flushes as his voice deepens into a soft growl.

He gets on his knees and begins to unbutton your suit, exposing your chest to his gaze. As the last button loosened, you felt as if your armor had melted away. You felt vulnerable. Your stomach instantly tense as he kisses the middle of your chest, your waist, and your belly, leaving bright red marks as he travels down to your pelvis. You close your eyes as you feel his lips envelop your sex, slowly engulfing you in his mouth.

"Oh..." you whisper as your fingers loop into his hair, his hands keep you from falling. The room echoes with your gasps as your knees buckle from the pleasure; you become undone once again in his hold.

"So cute," he comments as he flips you around so his stomach is pressed against your back. Your legs were still shaking from the pleasure as you felt him enter inside you, stretching your walls with his girth.

Before you could catch your breath, he started moving; you flail your arms, trying to hold onto your sanity before you got drowned by lust, "Wait, wait...please," you gasp breathlessly.

Reluctantly, he slowed down and wrapped an arm around your stomach, nuzzling his head into the crevice of your neck, "Alright, I'll go slow," he muttered into your ear. He stalled for a few breaths, you relaxed around him and he took the cue and began to speed up again. The room was drowned by your whimpers and his occasional grunts, "You're so tight even when you're relaxed."

A hum followed with a broken moan was all you could force out, you were in bliss. He kisses around your back, leaving a trail of bruises in a shape of a heart.

Soon you both become undone in the embrace of one another. He pulls out as soon as he climaxes and lets his seed dribble down your back as you shiver from the stimulation and collapse onto the floor.

“Don't get so sleepy on me now," he says with a smile. You lean your body against his chest as he leads you over to the lounge area of the private room. He sets you down on the sofa, wipes your body clean, and tends to the bruises on your neck; you feel a sudden sense of comfort and warmth. His hands are warm as he dresses you up.

You both sit in uneasy silence as you watch him fix your collar, contemplation hangs in the air. You break the silence first, "So, what are we?"

He stops what he is doing and looks at you with an amused expression.

"Certainly not simply friends."

You smiled.

#gender neutral reader #reader x oc #male reader #bottom male reader #gn reader #x male reader #male insert #mxgn #gnxm #mxm #male x male #gender neutral x male #male x gender neutral #nsft #queer nsft #smut #oc smut

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pink-strawberry-kissess · 2 years ago

Text

a vacation with you (leon kennedy x ada wong)

crossposted on my ao3

word count: extremely long (12k)

warnings/tags: fluff, slight angst, eventual smut, long build up, post damnation, (my other fic “a midnight with you,” was written pre re4r so it might make the timeline a bit weird, but ehhh ignore that), remedy for re4r, within my au timeline, alcohol abuse, leon is a mixture of puppy and cocky, explicit smut, canon compliant, Ada wears pretty outfits and Leon stares, Leon is still oblivious, talks about gun shot wounds, violence. LONG FIC

smut!, switches!, ada still tops from the bottom, oral, vaginal sex, overly emotional sex.

With a pair of smiles and a simple handshake; a civil war finally ends. But he knew that it was never really that simple. That it was all a tangled webs of lies for the sake of peace. For the idea of peace. Leon stares aimlessly at the tv screen, watching as it broadcasted the breaking news. A voice is still projected out from the cellphone on the table. His fingers are tight on the fully filled shot glass in his hand. He can hear her, but the words are mostly going in one ear and out the other. It’s the same.

Again and again.

The tv screen goes black. The now empty shot glass in his hand slamming down onto the wooden table.

“I’m not going anywhere-” he finally responds to her. Hunnigan waits patiently on the other side of the line with a concerned expression. He slowly rises from his seat, gathering the small phone in his hand.

“-in the end, nothing’s really changed,” he mutters, ending the call promptly.

Maybe nothing ever really changes.

Leon spent the last of his vacation days all at once. Choosing to stay at a tropical resort while wasting his nights away at the bar. He’d promise himself he would slow down at some point. He never really sticks to that promise.

The night had gone on far too long. Each new drink placed in front of him were all the same beach themed cocktails, mixed with the same regurgitated flavours with an aftertaste of regret. That’s a problem for tomorrow, he’s on vacation after all. They all taste the same and simply make it easier for him. So he can stop thinking. So he can stop feeling anything.

His speech is almost to the point of slurry. He’s been drunk before, but this was even too far for him. Surely, the blonde bartender would have cut him off by now, but she seemed to be more than happy to be supplying him with more than he can handle.

“Not sure I like you like this.”

A familiar voice. Soft yet firm. Her inviting scent fills his nose almost immediately.

His brows knitted together, a soon to be permanent crease was forming on his forehead. He begrudgingly twisted his head so he could catch a glimpse of her. His gaze is pointed downwards, red heels with delicate thin straps wrapped around her ankles. Without any inhibitions stopping him, he takes the time to eye her long legs until he sees the edge of her short skirt.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” he mutters. His hand still wraps around his glass, his finger nervously tapping against it. He feels the condensation wetting his fingertip and lets go, wiping his hands against his thigh as if to comfort himself in his seat. He reverts back to the same position, keeping himself as steady as possible despite the alcohol coursing through him.

She takes the seat next to him. Ordering some sort of dark red drink with a rum soaked cherry placed in as a garnish. In his peripheral, he takes his time to take her all in. Eyeing the flowing red dress that hugged her curves. The billowing fabric of the skirt creating the illusion of a dance, making each swish and kick of her feet as she crossed her legs all the more tantalizing. Her skin exposed from her dress had a touch of the sun, and he silently wondered if she had been staying here just as long as he had.

Ada’s playing with the cherry in her drink. Pinching the stem between her manicured fingers and swirling it around in the red liquor before popping it between her lips. Bursting the red berry as she twists the stem away and throws it into a dish on the counter.

“This,” she pauses and grasps her glass to take a sip. Gingerly placing it back down after letting out a short exhale. The contents of the glass swirl in her hand as she circles her drink on the table. The ice cubes floating around in the sea of red.

“You’ve been so drunk every night, you barely make it to your room,” she turns her head towards him. A disapproving look painted on her face as her lips flattens into a line.

“What are you, my mother?” he shakes his head and empties his glass, tossing his head back. The bits of ice clinking together as he slams the glass back down.

“Are you still angry with me?” She quips back, still swirling her glass in her hand.

Not waiting for Leon’s response, Ada’s gaze fell onto the bartender as the blonde made her walk back, gathering Leon’s empty glass in a swift single movement along the way. She offers another drink with a sly smile. One that strikes Ada as a bit too flirtatious for her liking.

“I’ll close the tab for the night,” Ada offers. The thin black plastic is pressed loosely between her thumb and finger as she presents it with a flourish of her hand before sliding it closely towards the bartender.

Leon scoffs, his entire chest shaking with his laugh.

“Just a water then,” he asks with a raised open hand.

Ada sips on her drink as they wait in an uncomfortable silence. As the bartender returns with the glass of water and the cheque for Leon’s drinks along with Ada’s. The bartender eyes widen as she flusters, her cheeks growing red as she reads the writing on the bill. Ada’s delicate cursive showcasing a generous tip. A tip that was nearly double the total of Leon’s bill.

“Uhh- thank you,” the bartender mutters with a smile. The holder is tightly pressed between her fingers before she shoves the holder into her apron and nervously grabs a wet towel from behind her.

“I really need to close up soon actually, thanks,” she sheepishly waves at Leon then nodding at Ada. A beat passes before she scurries away to the other side of the counter to clean up. Seeing some sort of prior connection between the man she had been supplying with drinks for the past few nights and the new woman in red- it was not a confrontation she wanted to deal with for the night.

“Do I even have to ask where that money came from?” Leon points towards Ada’s card as she tucks it away.

“Leon, you know I don’t mix business with pleasure,” her hand returns to the drink, swirling the last bit of the cherry liquor. The colour much more diluted with the melted ice.

“Ada… what are you doing here?” He exasperatedly asks with a dejected look on his face.

“Well it’s certainly not for business,” she raises a single brow at him.

His curiosity is piqued, his expression mirroring hers.

She knew better than to wait this long to meet up with him again. Seeing him night after night, drunker and drunker. She was more surprised he hadn’t gotten alcohol poisoning at this point. What a joke.

Leon survives disasters like the 1998 Raccoon City incident but he’s defeated by alcohol poisoning?

It was easy to keep an eye on him and she grew quite fond of keeping tabs on him. Sometimes worrying too much. She often questioned herself on why she took so much time and effort to keep him safe from a distance. Closing that distance terrified and excited her all at once. Her apprehension was cemented on the idea that he no longer wanted to see her anymore. Her distance from him always kept her heart safe. The struggle between choosing what goes on in her head and her heart has lead her here again.

The trek back to his hotel was a also a joke, as the time spent getting him to his room was exhausting for the both of them.

Leon is absolutely plastered. His cheeks red hot and even with the fan above the bed, it can barely cool him off. His only options were to suffer through it all, black out, or empty the contents of his stomach. None of them seeming to be a pleasant way for the night to end.

All he remembered was leaving the bar and somehow he was back in his resort room again. Laying on top of the sheets as he stared at the dizzying spiralling fan above him.

Ada finishes undoing the straps of her shoes, the tiny heels clicking on the tiling as she drops them off near the wall of the entrance room.

The bed dips with her weight as she leans over him. Her face grimaces, trying to determine the same options Leon had.

“Do I need to get the ice bucket?” She asks with a frown.

“I’ll tell you when my head stops spinning.”

“Ice bucket it is,” she begins to raise from the bed. Her movements are stalled she feels her wrist tightly gripped by Leon’s fingers.

“Are you going to leave me again?” His gaze meets hers, a shade of clarity in his baby blues as he stares her down.

She pauses.

“Only to get the bucket,” she finally responds. Her free hand rests against his for a moment before gently prying his fingers away from her wrist.

Standing in the bathroom, she glances around. The towels he had used were hung up still, albeit without the pristine touch of housekeeping. All the necessities are laid out on the counter, hotel shampoos and soaps all lined up in some manner. Some opened haphazardly.

Even with a government salary, he’s still using hotel soaps.

In the heat of the tropical weather, there’s a soft glow to her skin. A sheen she feels against her cheeks. Tapping it away with a tissue, she takes one more look at herself in the mirror. Her expression is vulnerable. Unsure and overly contemplative. Someone who’s letting her emotions take over. The piercing look in her eyes are too much for herself to handle. She turns, struggling to see the reflection staring back at her.

Leon’s head is pounding, his chest and stomach feeling full and like he’s on fire. The fan is circling on the highest setting and it’s still not cooling the room fast enough.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” she whispered and delicately laid an ice cold towel over his forehead and neck. Leon lets out a few groans of relief, feeling the soft cold terry cloth already making his mind clearer.

She takes her time to look over him. His dirtied blond hair matted to his forehead with his sweat. The hot sun had tinted his skin with a warmer glow, giving him a few freckles against the high points of his cheeks. But his blue eyes were tired and lost.

With a large exhale, her chest lowered. Her fingers reached out to flip the towels over, giving him more of the cooling feeling he so desperately needed. He groaned again, satisfied with the relief.

“Get some sleep Leon,” she whispers again. His eyes are still pointed at the fan. Swirling and swirling. A few more blinks and his eyes are shut, his chest rising steadily along with each breath.

The morning light fills the entire bedroom in that pleasantly annoying way. The sun is so perfectly bright and beautiful but Leon struggles to keep the light away, shielding his eyes with his arm as he struggles to fall asleep again. He can’t. His head is still pounding. Albeit more tolerable than last night. But more sleep is exactly what he wanted, he’s on vacation after all. Already regretting his choices yet again, he takes a few seconds to recount his night.

He had dinner by the little restaurant near the hotel, the bar. Drinks. More drinks. Even more drinks. Red cherry. The red drink. Red dress. The woman at the bar.

Ada.

His eyes snap open. The ice bucket is still on the floor next to the night stand. Thankfully empty. A tall glass of water and two round white pills are set onto the table along with a note card. His shoulders sunk, already dreading flipping the card to read it.

He couldn’t remember the night fully. Like it was just bits and pieces slowly coming back to him. All of his questions flooded in waves, pounding against his temples. The tidal wave question is promptly answered as he hears the hotel door swinging open.

His heart pounds as he leans his head just enough to see the door in his peripheral. Catching a glimpse of her dark black hair cascading and framing her face as she plucked off her shoes at the entryway.

“You’re up,” she hummed. Her outfit changed, a plunging halter dress in a subtle floral pattern. In her favourite colour of course. The few flowers were accented in shades of coral, complimenting her skin tone. She looked so refreshed, like how one should on vacation.

“Did you-?”

“Stay the night?” She finishes his question.

Leon nods his head.

“Well, considering you fell asleep right in the middle of the bed and you barely made any room for me,” she smiled and walked over towards him.

“I had to sleep in my own hotel room for the night. Came back in the morning to see you were still sleeping, so-” she pauses as she offers the him the water.

“For your hangover, which I assume you have,” she drops the two pills into his open palm.

He takes them in a few seconds. Popping the pills and downing the entire glass.

Silence fills the room again. The quietness only ending as Leon leans over to drop off the glass onto the night stand. She’s still here. Even if she didn’t stay the night. She’s still here. His hand twists at the sheets that lay underneath it. Wanting to reach over to her. Ada sits just a bit too far away from him. Just out of reach.

“Why are you here, Ada?” He asks in a single breath.

“I thought you were on vacation?”

“You know to be honest, I wasn’t expecting breakfast on the beach,” Leon smiled, chuckling as he dug into his eggs. The table is delicately decorated with an array of breakfast foods, filled with more sustancence than either of them could feasibly eat. Set in middle is a freshly picked bouquet of flowers in a crystal votive. His fork is inching towards a small bowl of freshly cut fruit, the orange and pink colours contrasting against the bright blue ocean in front of them.

“Do you know how to have a vacation?” She asked as she lowered her brown tinted sunglasses, eyeing him as she grabbed her drink. The pinky coloured glass was filled to the brim with ice, topped with a pastel pink paper umbrella and a cherry floating against the surface.

He teased her with a simple shake of his head.

She smiled, her head lowering to take a sip of her drink. She stared as his fork struggled, trying to poke at the fruit in the bowl. With a hum she grabbed her own fork, piercing the tropical fruit and presenting him the juiciest piece. Teasing him as she loosened her grip on the fork, steering the fruit away from him briefly.

His eyes narrowed, smile still on his face before he leaned in further to grab the fruit with a playful bite. Her lips curl upward as she pulls back the empty fork, digging in to grab another piece of fruit for herself.

The ocean is a deep blue. Crisp and clear and goes on forever. A sense of calm showers over them at the sight and sounds of the roaring waves as it continually crashes onto the shore. After they’re both satisfied with the meal, the breakfast table is cleared. A pair of empty lounge chairs are nearby, and little time is spent thinking on it before they occupy the both of them. The hot sun still high in the sky, annoying Leon briefly as he’d forgotten his sunglasses back in his hotel room.

“I suppose we’re just going to sit here all day then? Enjoy the sun?”

“You’ve never just relaxed before, have you Agent Kennedy?” Ada groans lightly, having apparently been enjoying the comfortable silence between them. She hums and sits up straight in her seat. Reaching downward in between their seats, she digs around in a woven beach bag that laid in the sand. Leon squints his eyes, trying to keep the sun out as he watches her rifling through her bag. It doesn’t go unnoticed by her as she chucks over a pair of spare sunglasses towards him.

He holds them, noticing the rather delicate design and some sort of designer logo branding on the side. Still holding them and now staring at her, he blinks a few times as she pulls out a deep blue plastic bottle. The labelling on it is decorated with waves and a happy little yellow sun on it.

“Are you going to keep staring?” She asks with a raise of her brow, flicking the top off of the bottle and allowing a dollop of the lotion to fall into her palm. Tossing the bottle aside in a few beats as she closes it and chucks it back into her bag.

“No, I-”

“Are you blushing?” She smirks as she slathers the lotion between her hands, the semi translucent cream coating her skin as she gingerly applies it onto her arms. Taking care to avoid her dress as she takes the rest towards her legs. Leon’s head is turned away just enough, although his eyes are still peering at her as she lifts the edge of her dress just enough as she rubs the lotion against her thighs.

He swallows, “can I- borrow some?” He clears his throat as he sits up straighter in his seat, his fingers neatly laying the sunglasses on the armrest of his chair.

“Sure, knock yourself out,” she adjusts her sunglasses and lays back down in her lounge seat. Stretching out her legs as she does so. He hesitates for a second before realizing he’d have to do it himself. A second passes before he leans into the side towards her bag. Thankfully the lotion remained at the top, making it so he didn’t need to dig for it.

Ada's proposal for breakfast had encouraged him enough to take a shower in the morning. A contemplative and regret filled shower in the mornings was usually the norm. But the prospects of breakfast with Ada was enough for him to be washed up in minutes.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, Ada caught a glimpse of him as he walked over to the closet and his suitcase. In his haste, the towel he wore was loosely tied around his waist. Only when she let out a brief clearing of her throat did he remember she was still sitting on his bed.

“I’ll be outside,” she smirks, holding onto her bag as she slips out from his room.

He had changed into a light coloured and comfortable fitting t-shirt button down and a pair of dark charcoal swim shorts. The hot sun had already dried his dark blond locks. Making his hair more bouncy and fluffy looking. His feet were bare, his sandals kicked off towards the side of his seat.

Behind the tinted shades of her sunglasses, she peered at him as he struggled to open the bottle. His hand then squeezing an obscenely large amount of the lotion into his opposite hand whilst also trying to close the bottle. Then struggling as he tried to strip himself of his shirt.

“Need a hand, handsome?”

“S-sure,” he exhaled a laugh.

He blushes at the pet name while sitting patiently as she left her seat and crawled over onto his. His eyes drop towards her hips and thighs as she sits dangerously close to his lap. His body reacting as calmly as he could as she begins to pry his shirt off. He watches her as she presented her open palm, seemingly waiting for him to grasp hers with the large amount of lotion still spilling out from his hand.

In an awkward handshake, she gathers the amount and watches for him to give her the go ahead. He gives her a simple nod and verbal hum.

Her hands are so soft and supple, so much smoother than his.

She glides the lotion across his shoulders first and down towards his chest. A playful dab of it is against his nose as he loses focus for a moment. Not catching her as she rubs the smallest amount of the lotion against his nose and the high points on his cheeks.

“I probably could’ve done that on my own,” he refutes with a small pout of his lips.

She simply rolls her eyes and continues, her hands still running along his arms. Feeling every muscle, scar and pulsing vein. Reaching along his arm and towards his chest again she catches a glimpse of his scar. That one that never faded.

The one she knew all too well.

The way her hands move along him is all too familiar, and foreign at the same time. Like he has to remember her again. Like the memory of her is still there, but it’s new also. How she touches him, how it makes him feel. Lost in the comfortable pleasure of it, he barely notices her as she stalls. Her fingers barely grazing his gunshot scar. That little reminder he received those years ago. That piercing wound that rewarded him with two mirroring scars from his chest to back. A single bullet that pierced him straight through.

If it were only a few inches lower or towards his centre, he could’ve had a completely different outcome. Both of them reminisce on this for a moment, remembering how he shielded her with his body without any hesitation. Not caring where any stray bullet could have landed. Any second sooner or later, everything could’ve ended differently. It was Leon’s decision to protect her after all. His choosing hesitate will always change things, alter things. If he choose to hesitate then- everything would be different.

She’s still staring at his scar. A moment that doesn’t go unnoticed by him as the pause lingers too long.

“Anywhere else?” He swallows. His eyes catching hers, that warm shade of honey brown that he can get lost in seconds. The way they glow when the sun hits it, it’s so warm.

Her dark lashes flutter, an anxious tick she has sometimes as she tries to compose herself. Her pink tongue escapes to lick against her glossy red lips, as if to prepare herself to speak.

“Just a bit more,” she lathers the last of the lotion against the exposed parts of his legs. Rubbing the excess of the lotion between her palms.

“I don’t suppose you’re in the mood for lunch any time soon, are you?” She asks, her exposed thigh pressed against him as she stay seated nearly in his lap. The feeling of her doesn’t go unnoticed by him, her warmth from her legs only amplified from the hot sun.

“Normally I would, but with how big breakfast was- I might actually be able to wait for an early dinner,” he chuckled warmly, his eyes squinting at her as the sun shone brighter for a moment. A scatter of clouds cleared in the sky, no longer filtering the sun’s bright rays. She nods, seemingly happy with his answer.

“…And I don’t suppose you’ve already explored the island?” He asks with a raised brow.

“I have, some. I know that you haven’t,” she quips back.

“Should I ask how many days you’ve been here? Watching me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I’ve seen the spa, the local shops. I love supporting small business,” she giggles warmly to herself. Her laughter warms his heart in a soft way he didn’t expect. It fills him and floods his chest, giving him fluttering butterflies that spring around wildly inside.

“Well, how do you feel about showing me the best parts of the island then? Since you’re the connoisseur of vacations,” he teased with a cock of his head.

There’s a brightness in his eyes. Maybe it’s the bright blue of the ocean reflecting off of his own ocean blues. The clouds of grey seems to have gone away. A sparkle reignited. The way his smile curves, it’s confident yet he’s hesitant to hear her answer. Like his body is nervously waiting for her reaction. His eyes are only stuck on her. The ocean crashing onto the shore fills the void before her answer reaches his ears.

The waters are cooling to the skin, even against the hot sun. Despite being in the water, Ada wears a beige woven sun hat. One with a wide brim that shields her face from the sun's rays. Leon tries his best to avoid looking at her too often. Occasionally catching the bright red of her bikini top and bottoms in his peripheral It's so absurdly distracting, how thin the straps are, tied in such simple knots that bind around her shoulders and the sides of her hips.

They’ve been walking around in shallow waters, just enough to reach their calves as the water moves towards them. Bringing them closer to the shore as they venture out further and further into the sea. The crystal waters glitter in bright white lights reflecting the sun.

His hands are in the water now, swaying and playing with the tops of it. He has the urge to dive in, get fully soaked. And the urges take over easily as he gives her a playful look before clasping his hands together to dive in. The splash is loud, the water flinging in every direction as he makes a few passes with his arms, his legs kicking about as he swims a few meters into the water. His head is wet with water, his hair soaked as he wrings out just enough to keep the water from dripping onto his face.

“And here I thought you weren’t capable of having fun,” she calls out towards him, still enjoying walking around and dragging her feet in the soft sands.

“I could say the same for you, aren’t you diving in?” His eyes narrow at her, a growing grin on his face. The water feels amazing, and he can’t help but submerge himself again. He rises up moments later, shaking his head like a puppy to rid of the water. His hair flying every which was as he shakes off the excess.

“Oh I’ve done my fill of swimming for now. I’m perfectly happy walking around in the water,” she fixes her sun hat. Lifting her head just enough to see him still shaking off the water from his hair.

“That’s not as fun.”

Leon’s strong arms take him towards her quickly, the waves aiding him towards the shore as he reaches her in seconds. Her voice is caught in her throat as she feels his warm hands around her waist, bringing her deeper and deeper into water. Her laughter fills his ears as she struggles to avoid getting more soaked. Her hands tightly grabbing his wrists. The momentum of the water is too strong for the both of them. A wave splashing them and submerging them in the sea water.

“I’m sorry about your hat,” Leon half grimaces as he sees Ada struggling to shake the water out of her soaked woven sun hat.

“It’s fine. Who knew you could be so spontaneous,” she teased and held her soaking hat in her hand as they walked back towards the shore.

He watches her as they walk. Her dark hair is soaked, some of her fringe stuck against her forehead as the water drips slowly down her temples and her cheeks. He feels the urge to brush the stray hairs away, fix them for her that he knows that surely she would want them to be. And yet he can’t help but see how imperfectly perfect it is. Moments of clarity where she just seems like her most natural self. A smile on her face, a warm blush on her cheeks. The rose colour of her lips. The water droplets that continually drip down her body and along every curve.

“Leon?”

“What is it?” he asks, being shaken out of his trance.

“Still feel like exploring the island?”

The first point of their excursion consists of a small gift shop. Riddled with tropical themed items, ocean related knick knacks and a selection of key chains of various ocean related animals. Leon’s quick to replace Ada’s ruined sun hat, finding one similar and holding onto it. While her eyes are stuck on the keychains, her fingers carding through the animals and palm tree charms that were hooked onto the display.

The rest of the shelves are filled with first aid and emergency items, and an array of sunblock and lotions. The previous aisle he was in housed the clothing; sunhats, bathing suits and beach coverups. Leon is mindlessly walking down the the rest of the aisles in the shop, only pausing occasionally to look for Ada and her whereabouts.

She’s still looking through the keychains.

Standing in front of one of the shelves he looks outside the glass window of the shop. Seeing a few people as they also explored the shops, all decked out in swimsuits and tropical wear. He’s so distracted he barely notices the stand in front of him. Looking downward he’s faced with a line of personal care items. Stumbling, he sees a row of small rectangular boxes of condoms, along with a pink plastic bottle of oil, or something- He’s too embarrassed to acknowledge anything else as he briskly walks as far as he can from the shelf.

Ada’s lips are pursed as she hums and tilts her head from side to side. Her eyes set between two different keychains. Both with adorable little animals attached to them.

“Did you find anything you’d like?” Ada asks him, not even looking away from the keychains between her hands.

“Uhh, well I figure I should get you a new sun hat, since I ruined your other one,” he smiles. Presenting her with a similar style sun hat. Although a lot less refined looking. The bow around the head of the hat is a bit too cheap looking for her tastes.

“You didn’t find anything for yourself that you’d like?” She looks up at him, the two key rings still hung between her two index fingers.

“Which one do you like better?” She asks as she lifts them upward just a few inches towards his face. Leon stares between the two animal charms, his eyes going cross eyed for a moment before he alternates between the two.

“They’re both cute, I guess,” he gives her a half smile.

She pouts and whines, “you guess?” She lowers towards the rack again, picking through them again to see if she had missed any of the other animals. He can’t help but eye her as she bends over slightly. The edge of her dress hitting right at her upper thighs. A cough interrupts his thoughts, the young looking cashier giving him some sort of a sly look; noticing that Leon was clearly checking out Ada’s ass. Leon gives him a sheepish grin before clearing his throat himself.

“Uh pick whichever one you like, I’ll buy it. Along with the hat,” he gestures by raising the sun hat. The little hand written price tag still wagging and twisting on its little plastic thread.

The sun hat is packed in a comically large paper bag, along with the charm that Ada had purchased on her own, away from Leon's prying eyes and despite Leon’s protests. He retaliated by insisting on carrying the gift bag along with her soaked sunhat, while they explored more of the island. Passing by other little gift shops and art galleries, all filled with shades of blues and sandy taupes.

The selection of restaurants were few and far between. Mostly ranging from small mom and pop shops, to a few more fine dining restaurants that lined the shoreline. Opulently styled settings in private sections of the beach that allowed the most romantic outings. Ada had already been eyeing one of the tables as it sat almost too perfectly close to the waters. As if the ocean waves could’ve brushed against their feet. The table is decorated with a few glass votives with candles that burned and illuminated the space. The arrangement of flowers are unique and displayed in an organic shaped vase.

After the few hours of walking around and exploring the island, they were more than eager to take a seat for a bit.

“Let me guess, you want to have dinner there?” He smirked and gestured towards the empty tables that lined the beach. His brows raising as if he were interested as well.

“Well if you’re offering,” her expression mirroring his.

Leon watched her carefully as she sat with the menu. A page of it pressed between her fingers as she flipped it. The ends of her hair were curled inward around her neck as they dried from the salt water and sun. The rest of her hair dried in beach-y waves that framed her face. Her other hand rested against her cheek, her elbow pressed against the top of the table. Her skin was even more tanned, the tops of her shoulders blushing almost pink. The red corals of her dress were highlighted and complemented by the orange sun as it slowly set in the distance.

The skies were painted in shades of orange, pink and purples. The water slow as it moved towards them. The shade of the ocean deeper and darker as night slowly creeped along the horizon.

“Have you eaten here before?” He asks as he plays with the menu before pushing it to the side to relax in his seat. Taking a moment to enjoy the sunset.

“I haven’t,” she murmurs from behind the menu.

“Really? I’m surprised, this really seems like the place you’d want to go,” his lips turned into an upside down smile.

She responds simply by laying another page of the menu down, reading the new page as it listed its mains and desserts at the bottom.

As the night creeps closer, he takes a moment to pry.

“Ada, why did you choose here? On this island of all places?” He asks, sitting straight in his seat. Trying his best to appear as still as possible. The slight change in his tone of voice and the cooling breeze brings a chill to her skin.

The waiter returns. Of course at the most opportune time to interrupt as she lists off their specials for the night. The steak and seafood dish piques Leon’s interest, while more than a few of the specials interests Ada.

“I’ll give you two a few more moments to decide,” the waiter smiles warmly and sets down two glasses of ice cold water onto their table before briskly walking away. Ada brings the water closer to her side. Feeling the cold moisture of the glass in her fingers as she brings the glass to her lips for a sip. Leon follows suite, mirroring her to take a sip as well. The ice cold feeling shooting right through him and towards his chest and stomach.

She lays the glass back down. Her fingers reaching to play with one of the leaves in the flower arrangement on the table, “Can’t a girl enjoy a vacation as well?”

“On the same island that I decided to vacation at?”

“Oh, please, I heard of this place before you did,” she hummed, her fingers pressing into one of the soft petals of the flowers. She’d rather lie than admit she only came here to see him again.

The appetizers arrive quickly. Along with a single drink for Ada as Leon refrained from drinking for the evening meal. Each dish is fresh and tasty, not that they expected any differently. And Leon is more than happy to dig into a juicy steak. The view couldn’t be beat either. The setting sun, the scent of the ocean, the ambience of the waves and the flickering candles on the table. And Ada sitting on the other side of him, enjoying her meal with a smile on her face.

She watches him too. Digging into his meal so quickly, she’s almost afraid he won’t be able to enjoy it as well if he doesn’t slow down. She pauses to sip on her drink. She’s always been a light drinker. One drink for dinner occasionally. Rarely does she have two. The mixture of liquors and bitters in it accents the citrus well in her drink. Making her take her time with it to allow the flavours to mingle together. Her slower pace only encourages Leon to slow his as well, allowing them to enjoy the sun as begins its descent.

The wax melts, pooling into the crystal votives. The shades in the sky are even darker as the sun hits the horizon, creeping lower and lower into the sea.

Leon smiles as he watches her digging into her dessert. A strawberry pierced onto her fork as she takes the smallest bite from it. Savouring every little piece.

“You want any?” She quirks her head. Presenting him with a piece of it. Some sort of cake coated with caramel and some sort of drizzle of chocolate as well.

He hesitates only for a second and silently leans in, jutting out his chin towards her and playfully takes the bite.

“That’s too sweet,” he licks his lips clean. Tasting the sugars and creams on his tongue.

“A bit, but I like it,” she presses the prongs of the fork against her bottom lip. Tapping them against them inquisitively before digging back into her sweets.

They argue over the bill for a while. The waitress finally asking for at least one of them to pay.

“You two are adorable. How long have you two been together?” She asks with a smile, her hands still on the cheque holder as she waits for Leon to finish signing the bill.

Leon’s pen stalls on the paper, his eyes widening as he looks up at Ada, “Uh-”

“This is our first date? Maybe second?” Ada responds cooly, her almost empty glass balanced between her fingers.

“Could’ve fooled me,” the waitress smiles warmly, grabbing the bill from Leon after he quickly scribbled the rest.

“Thanks you two, I hope you enjoy your date night!” she smiles cheerfully. She bids them farewell with a playful wink and then a wave goodbye with the cheque holder in her hands, eager to walk away and see the hefty tip that Leon had left her.

The walk back towards the hotel isn’t too long. But without the commotion of the day, the night is a lot quieter than they expected. The silence between them isn’t uncomfortable. But comfortable wasn’t the right word either.

“So a date, huh?”

“Well, what else was it?” Ada hums and gathers the strap of her bag. Readjusting it on her shoulder. She quietly grimaces to herself. Spending all day with Leon in the hot sun. The fact she didn’t wear her hat for most of the day didn’t help either with preventing the slight sunburn that was forming on the tops of her shoulders and back. Leon catches on quick, noticing the redness slowly creeping onto her skin.

“Here,” he offers with his free hand. The other still holding into the gift bag from the shop.

“What a gentleman,” grins, delicately handing him her bag. She rolls her shoulders, trying to ignore the slight irritation.

“I guess I should’ve applied your sunblock on for you,” he pouts his lips, watching her as she tapped against her shoulders to try and alleviate some of the pain.

“What so you can have your hands all over me?”

Leon’s mouth falls open, “No! That’s not what I meant!” His hands splayed open, innocently facing upwards and out.

“So cute,” she responds with an airy giggle.

Leon’s free hand had been in his pocket for a while now. Palming the keycard for his hotel room as they approached closer towards their pairs of accommodations. His hand sweats as they approach the hallway towards his room. She’s still walking next to him, all the way up towards the doorway.

“I um,” he gathers the gift bag along with her woven tote bag. Both of the straps in his palm. The straps feel hot in his hand. Maybe his hands are just hot. The keycard is still in his other hand. He watches her, all she’s doing is smiling softly. Staring at him and nothing else. He fights inside of himself.

Tell her good night. Tell her you had a good day with her. Tell her that despite everything between them, today meant a lot to him. Tell her good night. Tell her good night.

“Did you want to come in? I might have something for your sunburn,” he gestures towards his hotel door with his free hand.

“Sure,” she responds and turns towards the door to slide a key card into the silver handle. The light turns green as the locking mechanism turns. He takes no time to rationalize why she had a key card to his hotel room or the fact that he’d already forgotten that in the morning that she returned to his room without any issues; and simply twisted the handle to open it.

He waits for her to enter and flicks on the lights afterwards. The entry area that greets them before the bedroom is lit up in a warm glow. The rest of the hotel room dimly lit by the light from the window. Leon isn’t unfamiliar with the sight of her in his hotel rooms. They were the few common places they’d run into together. More often than not with the night ending with them tangled between each other and the sheets; and with him finding the bed empty in the mornings.

Ada makes her way towards the other side of his hotel room. Taking a moment to have a glance outside of the window to see the ocean. “Well, I have to admit your view is better than mine,” she hums and takes a seat on the window sill.

The door closes and locks, and he drops off the bags near the door. Exhaling deeply he closes the distance in a few steps and stands next to her at the window.

“I doubt that,” he exhales a chuckle, his gaze fixated on her profile as she stares outside.

“I love being near the ocean,” she whispers, almost too quiet for Leon to hear.

“Really?” He quirks a brow, taking a moment to look out the window as well.

“It’s so freeing. The waters are so blue. They can be so calming and relaxing with soft waves, and yet can grow dangerous with strong storms. They feel unpredictable yet so tranquil and peaceful at the same time,” she explains with a smile on her face, her eyes still stuck on the crashing waves.

“I didn’t know you could be so sentimental,” he exhales a laugh through his nose. His arms cross his chest as he leans his shoulder against the wall next to the window.

He eyes her exposed shoulder again, seeing her reddening skin.

“Sit tight, I’ll grab something for your burns,” he presses off the wall from his shoulder and heads to the bathroom. The light illuminates from there and seeps into the bedroom as he digs through one of his travel bags.

Ada grazes her fingers along her shoulders again, silently cursing herself for not realizing how hot it was today. It’s tender to the touch and slightly painful each time her fingertips press too harshly.

Leon returns with a few things in his hands. Setting them on the window sill as he pours a clear substance into his palm.

“May I?” He asks firmly this time. Polite but with authority. She responds by slipping the straps down her shoulders whilst holding the bodice of her dress with her other hand. Sitting down next to her, he gently applies the gel. The immediate cooling affects already working as she lets out a soft sigh. His hands are gentle and timid. The sheer size of them taking over most of her shoulder. His two fingers are gently ghosting along the tops of her shoulders, dragging downwards towards the rest of the burn. His eyes trail along her décolleté, briefly catching the way her hands are pressed into her breasts. His eyes snap back to his fingers as they follow along and reach the other side of her chest. He eyes her own scar. A reflection of his. Hers had healed a lot better than his. A mere white circle that most would miss. He coats her other shoulder with the gel, his eyes still on the scar.

His throat is loud as he swallows, seeing her hands as she holds the top of her dress, the plunging neckline showcasing her full breasts in front of him.

“You’re staring, Leon,” she whispers in a low voice.

“I’m just making sure I got all of it,” he narrows his eyes at her. He runs his hand along her chest again finishing as he reaches her left shoulder.

“Here, use this if you want,” he offers a cool towel.

She simply shakes her head, “whatever you used was good enough. I already feel a lot better,” she tilts her upward to meet his gaze. “Thank you,” she hums with an appreciative tone, their faces are only mere inches apart.

“S-sure,” he nods.

They sit together, enjoying the ocean as it continually brushes onto the sands. As the night goes on, they relax in the comfort of his hotel room. The quiet between them slowly growing more and more comfortable. The space between them growing smaller and smaller. The inevitable always happens, and yet they’ve haven’t crossed that line yet. Leon eyes the bed. It’s been made in the same pristine way it had been every day. Crease less and clinical with how the pillows are placed and fluffed.

“Getting tired?”

Leon is not tired. He is in fact, entirely wide awake. Being on vacation, he supposes there is no bedtime. He takes a pause before shaking his head, “are you?”

She repeats his head shaking, no.

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Will you stay?”

They don’t remember how they ended up on the bed. Ada’s tucked in between Leon’s arm and chest with her head resting on him. The fan blades are circling above them, fanning them with soft cool air. Leon feels her hand dragging her fingertip against his shirt.

Both of them are still wide awake. The light is still on. Clothes still on. They’re simply silent between each other. Only their soft breathing and the thumping of Leon’s heart is heard from Ada. Leon’s focusing on the fan above them, wanting to focus on anything other than her warm body against him. Her intoxicating scent and the way it tingles through his body.

His eyes lazily fall down from the ceiling and along the wall. His head twists just enough to see her hand against his chest. Repeating the same patterns.

“What do you think we’re doing?”

“I ask myself that quite often,” she hums and twists her head to get into a more comfortable position. The way she sways her head splays more of her hair onto his chest. The soft scent of her shampoo and the air of the ocean still lingers. It’s gentle and fragrant. Contrasting the sweet and dark scent of her perfume that she often wears. He can still smell her, inhaling more of her as his chest rises.

His arm tenses around her, bringing her closer onto his chest. His other hand nervously pressing his own fingers into his palm. Pressure placed onto the meaty part of his thumb. A pressure that’s almost painful before he releases. He repeats the same action a few times.

He remembers one of the times they were in a hotel room together, she had all of the upper hand. Damn the dress she wore. Like it was made for her as it hugged every single curve of her body, like it was a second skin. The glittering fabrics caught his eye every single second he tried to turn away. Like a moth to a flame, he kept chasing her. The very memory of it is in the forefront of his mind. And he’s unsure if he wants to repeat it. She hadn’t initiated anything yet. Simply resting on top of him as she drew nonsensical patterns and shapes on his shirt.

His fingers release from the fist it was stuck in. Reaching to grasp at her wrist, pulling her hand away from his chest.

Ada’s expression is unreadable. In the dim light, he can barely make out anything from her. Any minute detail is hard to see. If the expression in her eyes change. If her lips upturn or downturn. Her hand remains limp in his grasp. Not fighting him, but not giving in either.

“I don’t want this to be a mistake,” he whispers, his fingers are tender on her skin. Pressing his index finger gently into the soft part of her wrist. Splaying his fingers and intertwining with her fingers.

Her fingers are laying straight, taking their time to curl into his. He watches as their hands fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle.

“Let’s not make any mistakes then,” she exhales. Her voice shaking only for a second. Almost imperceivable, but Leon can hear it. He can feel her loosening up in his embrace. Her body growing languid as she melts into him.

She’s afraid.

She’s never afraid.

He urges her upward, rising up in the bed with her. Her head questioning him with a small tilt. She stares at him intently, the darks of her growing. With his arm slipping away he hovers above her. His arms on either side of her head, pressed chest to chest. The muscles in his arms tense as he keeps his weight off of her, caging her beneath him. He watches her with an expression he hadn’t seen before. Although he doesn’t have much time to decipher it as she angles her head closer to his.

With the tiniest space between them, she raises her arms to grasp the sides of his face. Reading his expression one last time before she makes the surge forward.

Her lips are soft. And barely there. He can feel her warmth, her soft breath.

It’s timid. Unsure and shy.

He feels his hair falling and cascading onto her face. And her fingers spreading through his hair to push it out of the way. How tender her hands are.

The softest kiss.

Having spent the entire day with her. All he can think of is this moment. Another kiss. The soft presses of his lips against hers. Trailing along her cheeks and down her jawline and neck. He grasps the straps of her dress, watching her with careful eyes as he drags them down. Exposing her breasts to him. She’s a delicious dessert and he’d spent all day wanting it.

She helps him as he tugs and pulls her dress off. Shedding the rest of her clothing until she’s completely bare underneath him. Her bathing suit had left little to the imagination from earlier. But the sight of her like this unlike any other. He takes another moment to memorize her like this again. Remembering every detail he had somehow forgotten, praying he doesn’t forget her again.

He grabs one of the pillows that’s tucked against the headboard of the bed and places it underneath her hips. Positioning her in front of him as he spreads her legs apart. She warm and wet, pink and flushed.

With her thighs resting on his shoulders, he brushes his nose against her. His fingers spreading her open as his tongue prods and licks at her opening. Her taste is divine. The way it fills and spreads on his tongue as her wetness coats his lips. He hears her soft whimpers and whines along with the sounds of the fabrics in between her fingers as she fists the sheets. Dragging and pulling away from the bed as he works her open. Licking and prodding at her, watching as her essence leaks from her. His other hand is wrapped around her thigh, keeping her steady with each little twitch and twinge of her hips. Quivering and reaching closer towards his swirling tongue.

He looks up at her again. Waiting for approval before he slides one of his long fingers inside of her. Curling and hooking into her as his tongue flicks at her wet swollen clit. He gives no time for her to adjust as he spreads her open with another of his fingers, scissoring into her. Her hand is quick to tug into his dark blond locks, twisting and pulling for his eagerness. The pain against his scalp is enough for him to let out a breathy desperate moan.

Leon licks his lips clean, tasting her all over on his tongue. His fingers still curled deep inside of her as he stares her down. His eyes narrow, one of his angled brows raising as he smirks wide. Feeling like he’s had the upper hand for once.

She notices his arrogance. “So confident, hmm?” she tugs at his hair again. Enough for him to let out a softer pleased filled moan, the pain of it just enough to inch his head further towards her belly. He plants a kiss there, trailing his kisses up her torso and breasts. His wet fingers still swirling and thrusting inside of her, his thumb pressing tight circles against her clit. His fingers remembering exactly how she liked it.

He had barely registered what she said as he trailed his kisses back up towards her neck. Her grasp on his hair is still taunt, twisting occasionally between her fingers before letting go lightly. Her sweet moans reflect with the way she tugs at him. Her other hand is clawing into his back, her nails pressing the fabric of his shirt into his skin. But it feels dulled, the sharpness of her nails dampened by the single fabric.

He speeds up his fingers, eliciting a throaty whine from her. His head shoots upward to watch her, his eyes fixated on her face. Transcending into a higher plane of pleasure. Her lips part, more moans and whines echoing. Her eyes are half lidded, her chest heaving and curling into him. Her thighs shake, twitching throughout her body as he feels her falling apart on his fingers. Her head twists, her cheek pressed into the soft fabric of the pillow as she cums, soaking his fingers with her creamy essence.

“Be a good boy,” she breathes and slowly twists her head towards him. He watches her as her eyes darken a shade, her lips bitten red from her attempts to stifle her moans. A desperate moan escaped her lips as she feels his fingers slipping away from her. Leon licks his lips once over before pressing his soaked fingers into his mouth, licking them clean as he keeps his eyes on her. The taste of her fills his tongue again, intoxicating him as he laved at his appendages.

Ada feels more exposed than normal, the fact he’s still completely clothed did nothing to help. Her arms stretch out and grab at the collar of his shirt, hastily tugging at it and pulling it off and over his head. Passion filled and animalistic; contrasting the almost careful and timid way she removed his shirt from earlier on in the day. The rest of his clothing is removed in seconds. Leon helping her to rid the rest of it.

She swallows, seeing the strong muscles in his legs as they moved as he settles back onto the bed. His legs spread, his thick cock leaking against his thigh. He moves as if his body is on auto-pilot, reacting to his inner urges rather than his head or his heart.

“Are you going to behave like a good puppy?” She asks sweetly, crawling onto him curiously. Her hands pawing at him as she makes her way over in between his thighs. Her nails digging into him along the way, giving him jolts of painful pleasure. With his thighs spread she splayed her hand around the base of his cock. A hiss seething from his clenched teeth, Leon’s eyes roll as he feels her giving him a generous pump of his cock. Her hand gives him another faster pump as she palms the tip of his cock, gathering his slick before slathering it down the length. Her fingers wrapped around the base and playing with him. Teasing him in ways that always got him hot and heavy.

“Are you going to behave Leon?” She asks again, stalling her movements with her question.

“F-fuck, yes,” he grunts, his gaze stuck on her hand as she pumps him again.

“Yes what?”

“Fuck, I’ll behave,” he groans, this time longer with more annoyance.

“You don’t sound very appreciative, Agent Kennedy,” she elongates his formal title, her voice sweet saccharine in pitch as she gives him another agonizingly slow pump. The head of his cock is leaking profusely, coating him with his sticky precum.

His groans grow louder, more rabid and unrestrained. A powerful grunt from his chest echos as he watches the tip of Ada’s soft pink tongue swirling the tip of his cock. Her hand is at a glacial pace running up and down, feeling each and every single vein and pulse of his cock.

Her lashes flutter, her cheeks flushing with pink warmth as she hollows her cheek, engulfing the head of his cock with little warning. Offering the same little warning that he did for her. He rolls his eyes, the heat from her mouth spreading throughout his entire body. His face dampens with sweat, the air from his lips hot and releasing in desperate pants for breath.

An audible pop rings as Ada lips release from his cock. Leon’s head unconsciously presses forcefully into the bed beneath him, his hips straining to reach for her hand as she continually pumps his cock at a leisurely pace.

“Ada,” he strains his voice. “Ada, please,” his voice wanes as he whines.

Something in him snaps.

The hold on his head and his heart push forward. Ignoring whatever words she had said.

…

He can barely hear her words, as they come from her lips like a pur. Smooth and sultry. But it’s not what he wants. He needs more from her.

His ears are ringing, his cock unbearably uncomfortable as all pleasure and friction is lost as she unwraps her fingers from it.

“Please,” he begs. Desperately wanting anything she’d be willing to give, but it’s somehow not enough anymore. The desperation in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by her. The routine they had built was shallow. With little bits of the truth slipping through the cracks. She wants more than just this.

The facade drops. As if everything suddenly fell apart between them.

The complicated web they weave is untangled each second they spend together. An innocent day filled with rather mundane activities and yet each time they end up like this. Each time they get closer, there’s a pull. Dragging them away from each other. A fear in their hearts that this is the last time. That the pleasure they want, isn’t what they deserve. She can see it in him. The fear she has all too well. Begging for something as if it’s the last time. Even she knows she’s not strong enough to avoid it this time. That she’s tied to him in ways she can’t describe.

“Leon.”

Her gaze shifts. A glassiness to her eyes that reflects the dim light. A fragility that he always sees in moments like these. A vulnerability that she never lets escape to the surface.

Still tangled in each other’s embrace, Leon finally breaks the silence.

“Let me love you the way I want to,” he asks softly.

His hand reaches to cradle the sides of her face. His fingers tenderly carding through her dark hair to push it away, allowing him to see more of her of the delicate features of her face. His touch is so tender. So soft it nearly brings the tears in Ada’s eyes to the edge. Just brimming the ends of her long lashes. Every time he gets closer to her; and every time she lets him in.

His gentle kiss asks permission for more. Chaste at first. Waiting for her to make the move. Her hands weave and wander along his neck and shoulders, holding onto him as she grows plaint. Letting him easily maneuver her underneath him. He holds her hip gently, spreading her legs around his waist. Letting her lay comfortably on the soft sheets of the bed. Padding the pillow beneath her head with his other hand. Tracing his fingers into her hair as it dances over the pillow.

The moment is tender, careful and all too loving. It’s not a intense rough fucking. One filled with teasing and reward. Nothing to work for, nothing to be earned or gained.

“Don’t shy away from me,” his finger continues to caress her cheek, bringing her back to him.

Ada feels the warmth from her chest growing slowly at first. Then spreading like wildfire throughout her body. It’s a tenderness from him she thinks she’s undeserving of; a love all too consuming. He looks angelic like this, his hair glowing in the light and haloing around his head. With each gentle kiss he places on her, his hair sways into his face, covering his eye. She raises a delicate hand to brush aside his hair. Showing her his loving gaze. It’s so warm. Her thighs squeeze around his hips, bringing him closer to her.

His boyish smile fills his face. His perfect warm smile. He places another kiss on her forehead, his eyes nearly snapping shut as he presses into her. Her mouth falls open in a silent whine. Feeling him as he stretches her open, filling her until he’s fully seated inside. His body falls a fraction, the warm pleasure radiating and taking over as he gives her a tentative pull back and thrust of his hips. His hand tightly grips her hip, nearly blemishing her skin with his fingerprints.

With each thrust he firmly holds onto her. Relishing the feeling of her warm wet walls hugging every inch of his cock overwhelms him ways he can’t describe. The lewd wet sounds emanating from where their cores meet grow louder as he desperately lifts her hips and pushes her onto his cock. A steady pace that focuses on each movement rather than speed. Making sure she can feel every single inch of him.

“Look at me, please.”

Ada’s eyes perk up, catching his gaze. Reaching for him as he chases her for another kiss. His moans against her lips are sweet and addicting. Her kisses are fervent, and still delicately placed against his face and neck. Each one eliciting an intensity growing in him. His hand near her head trails down her shoulder and arm, wrapping around her wrist and pressing into her palm. She mirrors him as their fingers envelope into each others. Grasping each other hands, all the while their bodies mindlessly rut into each other.

He buries his head into the crook of her shoulder, hot breath fanning across her neck as his hips snap faster into her. The angle brushing the head of his cock perfectly into her. He hears her, the sharp twisting of her voice. Crying for more. The airy desire in her moans. The grasping of her hand against him, forcefully digging her fingernails into the skin of his back. Her trembling thighs shake, twitching her body all the way into how she curls her back from the bed. Pressing her full breasts into his chest.

“Look at me,” he begs again.

Ada’s eyes are barely able to open, her mind fuzzy and her hearing filled with the wet slapping of skin, the bed shaking and their heavy breathing. He can barely hold it off. Wanting to bring her over the edge with him. The way her warm pussy pulls him in with each thrust nearly topples him over. His heavy cock begging to spill into her.

“Come with me please,” she whispers in a single breath.

His hips continually snap forward, her own slamming onto him, clinging onto him as she feels the beginning of her climax washing over her. Her steady and rapidly increasing heart beat pumping in her ears. The ringing starts. Her voice quickens and stutters with his name. In mere seconds her slick covered walls squeeze every part of him. Triggering his climax and following in a few weakening thrusts. Slowing in rhythm as his cock spills everything inside of her, filling her until he plants himself inside deeply.

The warmth she feels explodes into pleasure that courses through her, overstimulating her as she clings onto him, shaking and letting go of every single fibre of her being.

His weight grows heavy on her. Her core still tingling and twitching. His seed spilling out of her and onto the sheets.

“Leon.”

He hears her serene voice repeating his name, calling for him. With the bit of strength he has he lifts his head to meet her face. Immediately surging towards her lips at the sight of her smile. A warm giggle tries to escape from her lips, squashed from their kiss. A sloppy one that elicits another deep chuckle from him. Each one peppers more kisses, ones that feel like they’re not going to stop.

His stamina is tested as the night continues on. Hours spent in his hotel bed, wrapped into each other. Going until she nearly begs him to stop. She rides him until he can barely take it, their skin red and flushed. His head reeling with nothing but the chase for the high. The ecstasy of it.

In the late hours of the night, their bodies are satiated. Tingles and butterflies fluttering through every part of them. Hips bruised and imprinted with each other’s fingerprints. Lip prints marked on necks and chests.

Despite her protests, Leon takes the time to apply more of the gel for her sunburn. His hands confident on where to go, and how far he can go.

“I don’t think I have any sun burns there Leon,” she presses her chin lightly against her shoulder, turning her head to scold him with a smile. His fingers are cleaned from the gel and he can’t help but run his palms along her chest, cupping her breasts between both hands.

“Really?” He scoffs with a smile. “Better to be safe than sorry,” he finishes by leaning in for another kiss.

“This,” she simply says, a singular hum following her word.

“Hmm?” He hums as he gathers her into his arms. Pressing her into his chest as he lays down into the bed. Letting her perch herself onto him.

“I like you like this,” she replies and returns to drawing her fingertip against his bare chest.

“Naked?” He teases her with a warm laugh.

She smiles although he can’t see her. He can however feel her rolling her eyes at him.

“I like when we’re both like this.”

“Like what?”

This time she lifts her head towards him. Her expression is alluring and captivating, her dark hair framing her face, the bitten red hue of her lips. The warm flush against her cheeks that remain on her skin. The inviting look of her eyes.

The years haven’t been kind to Leon. But his good nature and strength lingers in him. It wanes and grows with time, running into obstacles but he always overcomes them. He hadn’t given up before, and she didn’t want to see him give up just yet. She watches him as he lazily lets out a soft yawn, the tension in his face released as he grows more sleepy. Closing his eyes briefly, his lashes slowly fluttering closed. He looks so much more peaceful like this, like all the pain had washed away. The tension in his brows released, his lips upturned in an effortless smile.

“Together,” she whispers.

Ada wakes as the morning light greets her. She so often rises before the sun even peeks at the sky. Always slipping away in the early morning or the night. She was never comfortable with goodbyes or overstaying her welcome. It was always easier to leave. But she didn’t want to leave him this time.

The sun is bright. Warm and inviting. Just like Leon had always been to her. She turned towards him, watching him as he slept. Still lost in a dream as he laid next to her. His arm wrapped around her even as he slept.

He looks so free.

Ada let her impulses take over, leaning in to brush his hair away from his face. Her finger ghosting along his cheekbone and jawline, feeling the soft stubble there.

“Ada,” he quietly breathes out, his eyes slowly opening.

“You’re still here,” his smiles somehow grows wider, reaching his eyes.

“You’re still here too,” she quips back.

“This is my hotel room,” he all too easily over takes her, trapping her underneath him.

“One night is all it takes huh?” She tilts her head upward towards him, trailing a lingering kiss against his jawline.

It wasn’t just the night.

The rest of their vacation was spent together. Exploring the rest of the island or back in the hotel room. Ada had shown Leon how to live a little, all the while she was breaking down her own walls. Letting him in bit by bit no matter how much she struggled. That each morning they woke with each other still there, it formed a new bond. A breakthrough was made.

When the vacation was nearing its end. Leon silently knew they would have to part ways again. The pain of it was less gut wrenching this time. The heartbreaking feeling he always felt whenever she left was no longer with him. No longer scarring and digging into his soul; instead as if the ties binding his heart were simply him holding it in place instead.

He held her one more time, breathing in her soft sweet scent to remember for next time. Remembering the feeling of her embrace. Remembering the gentle touch of her hand and the tender warmth of her lips.

It feels easier now.

The few remaining questions that bounce off in his head roll off of his tongue easier now, wanting to have them all answered before they part.

“Back before… on the boat. I said that Raccoon city changed me... and I asked you if you had changed,” he says, his head still pressed against hers.

She merely nods against him.

“I didn’t understand you back then. I’m not even sure if I even do now-” he pauses with a laugh, his hands resting on the small of her back and trailing onto her hips and waist as he held her.

“Maybe you have figured me out, maybe I haven’t really changed,” he lifts his head to meet her eyes.

“But I like to think that I changed you,” he nods with his words.

A smile grows on her face, “maybe you did,” she exhales a short laugh.

The last lingering question he has for her blurts out of his lips before he can stop himself.

“When will I see you again?” he asks, his brows furrowing together lightly, although a smile is still painted on his face.

He feels the soft press of her lips against his. A warm kiss that lingers throughout him, the soft perfume of her filling his nostrils as he drinks her in one more time. Her hands wrapped around his neck and shoulders trailed down to his hand. Her fingers enveloping into his again. It feels natural now, as if her hands were meant to be in his.

She smiles, watching his expression as slight confusion fills it. When she releases her hold from his hand, he feels a paper like texture in the palm of his hand. Before he can react much, he feels another of her kisses against his cheek before she slips away.

“You’ll figure it out. See you later, Leon,” she smiles softly. Giving him a wave before she begins walking away. His eyes are stuck on her form as she slowly disappears from him. Only when he can no longer make her out from the crowd does he look down into his palm. It’s neatly wrapped with a pastel blue ribbon tied around it. He tugs on it, undoing the perfect bow. The paper unfolds neatly by itself. A little green turtle keychain appears from the wrapping.

He chuckles warmly with a grin, “very cute.” He can’t help but eye the key attached to it, along with the zipper enclosure along the side of the shell of the turtle.

He smiles. Knowing that’s all he needed from her. For now.

#Leon Kennedy x ada Wong #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #Leon x ada #aeon #aeon fic #ada wong #ada wong x leon kennedy #resident evil damnation #re4r #resident evil #resident evil fic #aeon smut #leon kennedy smut #ada wong smut

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