i won’t write ageplay, incest, scat or piss kinks or wound fucking please! yandere, dubcon/cnc, knife play, and dark content is welcome. non con is a line i’d rather not cross unless it fits the character or fic !
i prefer AFAB cuz i’m a girl and i only know female anatomy lol
danny chases u down towards the end of the trial and corners you in lampkin house, decides to have a little fun w u
dark paradise nsfw
you’re spawned into the trial in tiny pajamas for the new event, and your favorite killer very much likes your outfit hehe
camera shy nsfw
danny is stalking you and breaks in when he sees you using a toy on yourself
danny hc’s with friendly survivor reader nsfw/sfw
danny with cold reader sfw
heavy metal lover nsfw
you’re very annoying and try to throw hands w danny, resulting in him having revenge
im preying on you tonight nsfw
you have bad experience with these scare actors
love potions nsfw
danny falls in love with you at first sight and grows an obsession.
crybaby nsfw
danny is very mean during naughty time, but he always patches you up afterwards!
cuddling with danny :3 sfw
kisses w/danny !! sfw
danny comforting sad!reader sfw
cosplay w/danny johnson nsfw
rick grimes
the less i know the better pt. 1 pt. 2 nsfw
you’re a savior taken hostage by rick and daryl and they decide to make u their little slut
using you nsfw
rick takes his anger out on you after lori's death because he's a self projecting loser and wants u really bad
i need to purge my urges, shame shame shame pt. 1 pt. 2 nsfw
dark content !! get taken by the CRM by total coincidence and reunite with your lover who you haven’t seen in years, only to find out he’s only a fragment of the man he used to be
say yes to heaven sfw
nurse reader with silly rick
daryl dixon
the less i know the better pt. 1 pt. 2 nsfw
you’re a savior taken hostage by rick and daryl and they decide to make u their little slut
snowfall nsfw
you and daryl are out on a run when the temperature drops to freezing
gojo satoru
poly headcanons w gojo and geto sfw + nsfw
yandere!gojo x fem!reader sfw
one night stand a yandere!gojo nsfw
fwb!gojo x fem!reader nsfw
micheal myers
enjoy the silence nsfw
he breaks into the house you’re babysitting
ethan landry
make you mine nsfw
you have a study date with ethan and walk in on him in his ghostface robe.
Pairing: Re9!Leon x Brat!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: You're getting on Leon's nerves, interrupting him as he works from home, especially when all he's trying to do is finish up these reports so he can spend time with you. Luckily, he knows how to teach you a lesson. Luckily, that's exactly what you want.
Tags/Warnings: brat taming, chasing, wax play, prey/predator, forced kneeling, bondage, handcuffs
Word Count: 2.2k
Gosh, Leon’s so sweet. Like candy apples and cherry pie and funnel cake at the county fair. A perfect gentleman, always opening the door for you, giving you his jacket when you’re cold. And he carries with him the sort of patience that is only found in someone who’s been tested and passed.
He listens when you complain, he cradles you when you cry, and he chuckles stoically when you tease him for the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
And that’s all fine and dandy. He’s a good man, and you’re lucky to be in a relationship with one of the few left in the world.
Thankfully, whenever you’re craving that kind of attention, you know exactly how to push his buttons.
He’s working from home today, holed up in the office down the hall, hunched over his desk with new grays coming in at his temples as the day goes on, and the reports pile up against a due date that is far too close on the calendar for comfort. And you’re in the mood to be tedious. Near perfect conditions.
First, it started with bringing him coffee. He was so appreciative, giving you a rub on the back as you bowed down to place the cup and saucer on his desk. A ‘thank you, sweetie’ and a kiss on the cheek.
Then, you stopped by, not even thirty minutes later to ask if he wanted to go out to dinner tomorrow, and if so, he needed to leave work ten minutes early to beat traffic. Oh, and he’ll have to make a reservation because you’re not very good at all that stuff. He took a deep, cleansing breath, and nodded, assuring that the two of you would have your dinner date on the schedule as soon as he finished work.
So patient.
It didn’t take long for you to return once more, wrapping your arms around his neck, pinching his cheeks, playing with his hair, planting an obnoxiously loud trail of kisses from ear to ear. I’m bored, you whined.
“Why don’t you go shopping, baby? Looks like the perfect day for it.”
You followed his gaze out the window, where a heavy blanket of steady rain had just broken through the torrential sky. Angry clouds threatened a continual downpour from above, coating the earth in dark, vampiric shadows.
Guess not.
You padded down the hallway, decidingly not venturing out to the shops today, but still pondering a way you can cure this endless pit of boredom digging itself deeper in your stomach. And the lust between your legs, crying out for attention.
So, so patient.
“Lee?” You coo, returning to his office for the ninth time in the past two hours. Leon sighs, shoulders falling an inch against the back of his desk chair. This time, he doesn’t turn around to look at you, he doesn’t respond vocally with a pet name, or so much as an annoyed cut of his eyes. He keeps his gaze affixed to the computer in front of him. “Baby?” You repeat, still lingering against the door frame.
“What is it?”
Bingo.
There’s frustration in his voice, and he no longer deems it necessary to coat it in the sweet, syrupy tone he typically uses with you. You’ve gotten under his skin, and between your incessant picking and prodding, and the pile of unnecessary projects he’s been assigned, his patience is wearing thin.
“It’s still raining.”
He needn’t look out the window for confirmation. He can hear the droplets banging against the glass. “Yep.”
“I would go shopping, like you said, but I just got my hair done and I don’t want to get it ruined.”
“Shop on your computer.” He knows you’re familiar with the principle. The two of you could be stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere without so much as a single bar of signal, and you’d still find a way to rack up a bill on his card.
“That’s so boring.”
If he has to hear a variation of that word one more time, he might just have you do this report for him, and you’d really be bored then. But he keeps his cool, choosing silence over a response that would only prolong this exchange, and perhaps bring out a side of him he never wants gracing this home.
Little does he know.
You approach, a shitty grin tempting to appear at the corner of your mouth as your hands extend toward his hair, all sand and snow. “Can I play with your hair?” Before you can sink your fingers through the strands, he reaches back to grab your wrist without so much as looking to aim.
Leon then whips around in his chair, pulling you between his legs.
“Sweetie,” he says through gritted teeth, speaking with as dulcet of a tone as he can muster. “I’m working.”
“But I’m bored.” The patch of skin between your eyebrows creases and your face begins to contort as you simultaneously stomp a foot against the hardwood. Leon looks down at the gesture, then slowly glances back up.
Worn. Thin.
Without warning, he grabs your shoulders to push you down onto your knees, your flesh immediately conforming to the textured slats beneath them.
“You’re gonna kneel until I finish this report, do you hear me?” He doesn’t wait for you to nod or squeak in acknowledgement. This isn’t a contract. It’s a command.
“Leon–”
“And if I hear so much as a peep from you, you’ll be staying like that all night.”
You seal your lips shut.
He leans down across the arm rest, with a wicked smile at the corner of his mouth, to lightly tap the button of your nose. “Good girl.”
Leaning back in his desk chair, he stretches his arms high above his head before clasping them behind it, reclining. “If you hadn’t interrupted me every five fucking seconds, this wouldn’t take so long.” Then, he sits up straight once more, hands immediately returning to the keyboard, clacking away like a chicken at feed. “Too late now.”
After fifteen minutes, you start to squirm, knees rolling back and forth against the textured planks. Out of the corner of his eyes, Leon notices you faulting. Your fingers are fidgeting, your seat aching to recline on your heels.
“Uh-uh,” he taunts with a click of his tongue. “Do I need to tie you up?”
“No,” you whimper.
His eyes shoot open. “Or tape your mouth shut?”
You shake your head, lip beginning to tremble.
Your knees hurt, obviously, but now your face is starting to feel tight, and your skin dry and itchy.
It’s five o’clock. Actually, it’s long past five o’clock, and Leon’s been finished with work for the past twenty or so minutes. Instead of the encrypted website he was using to work, he switched to google to search for the best leather cleaner to use on the seats of his car. Then, he clicked back and forth between a few websites for details on plaster work and regrouting.
“Bathroom renovations, really?”
Without moving a muscle of his face or pivoting his body, Leon’s eyes cut to you, a storm brewing inside them. That’s all? He doesn’t spit out a scolding word, or pull you over his lap to slap a parade of punishing spanks across your ass. He just goes back to his computer, clicking, and moving his cursor across the page at nothing in particular.
That’s when you make the decision to run, though it’s not much of a decision at all. It’s more of a primal instinct, inherited from ancestors that had to run from actual predators. Perhaps that’s what you’re wanting to turn Leon into. A predator hot on the trail of its prey.
So you lunge onto your feet, and they quickly carry you out of the office, across the hall, and up the stairs. Your legs feel like jelly, your knees throbbing at the release, though still partly numb.
Leon just sniffs, slowly rising from his chair, reaching out to turn off his computer until the power flickers and the outage does it for him. It immediately bathes the house in shadows, the darkness only cut by the storm seeping through the windows, sharp shocks of lightning illuminating the halls with bright claps of white.
You hear a rumbling chuckle from downstairs, and it sends a shiver of chills down your spine, between your legs. Navigating through the darkness, you tip-toe down the corridor, round the corner, thinking you’re in the clear until you run straight into a clothed chest, nearly bouncing back against the impact. Yelping out, you ask how he found you so quickly. You had only been running for a minute, and you hadn’t heard any footsteps behind you…any movement at all, really.
Beneath another strike of lightning and the roar of thunder, you see Leon’s face, a smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth. He takes you in his arms, holding you so tight, there’s no chance of wiggling free. As you squirm in his grasp, he dips his head down to whisper in your ear.
“Do you think I just sit at a desk all day, baby?” His voice is low and gravely, his breath hot against your skin. Something ice-cold is dragged up and down the length of your arm, and its metal catches in the light, a twinkling sound following. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”
It was a pair of handcuffs.
Metal and unforgiving.
Your arms are stretched above your hand, your wrists restrained, the cuffs clicked into place around one of the wooden posts of the headboard. He removed your panties, your satin nightgown, the lace hem tickling your thighs as he slid it down your body.
You asked for this, you remind yourself when you see Leon walking back toward the bed, a lit candle in his eager hand. Melted wax pools around the live wick, and your muscles tense as it hovers above your abdomen, threatening to spill. A wicked grin grows across Leon’s mouth, his face illuminated by the orange glow of the flame.
He shifts the candle up your body, tilting the lip until hot wax splatters across your decolletage, your breasts. Peaked nipples hardening under the sensation, you cry out, moan echoing against the blackened walls.
Leon closes his eyes, tossing his neck back, devouring the sound.
Discarding the still-lit candle on the nightstand, his hands crawl to your breasts, kneading the stiffening wax into your skin, paying extra attention to your nipples, pinching them and rolling them between his fingers.
He moves his head down between your parted thighs, one hand coming down to pin your waist into the mattress, the other still playing with your tits, shifting between them, making sure to dole out enough love so that neither one feels left out.
You whimper as the drum of his tongue flattens on your clit, lapping like a kitten on a bowl of milk. He begins with slow, languid strokes, the tip drawing circles at your seam before he plunges the muscle past it, prodding at your walls.
Back arching off the bed, you tilt your hips down, grinding against his face. He groans into your pussy, the sound reverberating off your arousal, and you mewl beneath the vibration. Then, right as you sense your climax approaching, the coil in your abdomen tightening, your walls clenching, he removes himself. The absence is jarring.
“Leon?”
“How does it feel?”
Your brows cinch together, your face a painting of betrayal as you struggle to look up and out at him, your movements limited by the cuffs. “What do you–”
“You were interrupting me.”
His voice has returned to its usual tone, dulcet and soft like a lullaby, yet laced with condescension as he cocks his head like a puppy, mocking your frustration.
“So now I’m going to do the same to you.” Bowing back down to your pussy, he stops one more time before continuing his taunts. “No more talking, please.”
He attacks you like this for what feels like an hour, though time is completely lost on you now, unable to turn to the sky outside for direction, the storm making the early evening seem like midnight.
Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, made worse when you try to quell the tremble by digging your feet into the mattress, and your vision begins to blur at the corners, white spots appearing like granules of static across your lids.
If the government isn’t using this as a form of torture, they’re severely missing out.
“Let me finish, please.”
He doesn't, of course, retreating once more before you can meet your peak, wiping your juices off his mouth with the back of your hand.
“Leon, please,” you cry, tears sliding down your temples, falling into the swirls of your ears, drying down sticky and stiff. “Come back.”
Standing at the foot of the bed, he adjusts the cuffs of his rolled sleeves, the band of the slacks on his hips, smoothing the front of his shirt. “I think I’ll go back down and start on tomorrow’s reports. You know, just in case you’ll feel like interrupting me again.”
why do so many RE fans think leon fell in love with ada in a single night unless you’re fic is not referencing the remakes lol
you can prefer other ships over aeon , i dont care about your personal preference either, but you cant just ignore canon... he may have not 'fallen inlove' but he definitely gained feelings for her and didn't stop thinking about her after SIX years? that kinda hints at something a little more than a crush? then again idgaf
was worrying that leon wouldnt fall for reader in such a short amount of time in my borderline then i remember he fell for ada in a single night soooo... anyways fanfic logic so who cares
im craving to write a fluff / crack old neighbor leon fic hehehehe does anyone wanna send requests like that or gimme ideas in the comments... maybe ill add a lil bit of smut heheheheh ....
i can just imagine how funny he would be to have as a neighbor when hes older and just tired w life lol
I recently just found your borderline isekai reader fic and I love it💗💗💗 I like the way you write reader and gave her a realistic reaction of what someone would do if they were isekai into Resident evil. I hope you’re doing well, take your time.I like how long you made the first chapter, can’t wait for the next one💗💗💗
Hi!! :33 I posted the second chapter yesterday!! Hope you enjoy if you havent seen it yet
summary; leon’s been infected with something unknown from his mission.
notes: dub-con, coercion from blood sucking, dead dove do not eat!!, blood and death, but its happy ending (depending on what you interpret as happy...) , p in v, oral sex, creepy leon, please do be warned this is pretty dark!! but still mostly consensual id like to say, no beta read we die like luis..
word count: 1.7k
Leon hasn’t been the same since he returned from one of his missions two weeks ago. He had been deployed in deep Romania, told to investigate an unknown disease spreading throughout the region. Pale, sickly victims who fed on their companions. At first thought, it sounded awfully like zombies.
He refused to answer any of your questions when he returned. He kept a thick silence as he laid in bed with you that night, the darkness of the room swallowing you both whole. You were worried. Had something happened to him?
Even after questioning him, he didn’t open up. Not immediately. His silence worried you intensely, each day crawling at your insides and scratching at your flesh. It drove you crazy. He wasn’t the same, his skin held no warmth, he was paler, and his eyes fell dull. Like he had died, yet he stood in front of you breathing.
You felt like you were going crazy. Peeking over your shoulder every few minutes, sneaking a glance at him seated on the couch, posture sulken and relaxed. An old TV show plays on the screen a few feet in front of him, his eyes glued and mind occupied. He was in his whole own world.
Distracted with your head turned towards him, you don’t realize your knife slipping, accidentally nicking your finger instead of chopping the fruits settled in front of you on the counter. A sharp gasp leaves you as you step back, clutching your finger delicately. It didn’t hurt too much, but definitely caught you by surprise.
Inhaling deeply, you turn to reach for the medical drawer, only to be met by the sight of Leon standing behind you. You gasp loudly, knocking into his firm body and colliding your nose into his chest.
“You okay? I smelt— heard, uh, you hurt yourself.” He mutters lowly, hand reaching for yours, as gentle as always. You flinch at the coldness of his skin, fingers handling your finger as he examines the cut. Not too deep, but deep enough to cause blood. A bit of blood.
“My knife slipped, hun. It wasn’t anything bad.” You reassure, blinking up at him as he stares intently at your fingers. His eyes were locked down on the blood, lips parted and pupils dilated. You could feel the hunger in his gaze, and it scared you. You hadn’t even heard him get up, his footsteps or breath behind you.
The air brushing against your shoulder makes you shiver as you watch him bring your finger closer before suddenly pulling back. With a heavy sigh, he runs his fingers through his hair before softly patting your hip. “Be careful, yeah? I’ll get you a bandaid.”
It’s late at night when you awake from your slumber, eyes slowly drifting open and adjusting to the lack of light inside your shared broom. You can feel his body behind you, tucked into the bed under the blankets. His back faces you as you peek over your shoulder, breath slow.
Cautiously, you climb out of bed, lifting a weak hand to rub your temple. It’s well past midnight, and the silence of the house is all you can hear. Knowing Leon’s presence was next to you always soothed you, having such a hunk of meat for a husband, knowing he would always protect you.
But now you couldn’t help but feel unease. He looked the same as Leon, sounded the same, yet he didn’t feel the same. You didn’t know who was pretending to be your husband, and it scared you.
You get up from the mattress, slipping on slippers and quietly walking out of the bedroom. You don’t hear the sheets moving behind you.
The living room was pitch black when you entered. Living with Leon meant living in a cozy house with top notch security, which helped you feel safe from the threats outside the walls. Now you were afraid of what laid inside the walls.
Fiddling around, your eyes land on one of the decorative candles you have set on the dining table. You light it, holding it up as you begin to rummage the countertops for your sleeping meds. It wasn’t rare for you to stir in the middle of the night and crave your meds to fall back asleep, it was an annoyance but had become routine.
Across from the fridge you had double ovens stacked on top of each other on the wall, metallic, expensive and glimmering when the moonlight shines across it. Passing by them, you see your own reflection by yourself and alone in the dark kitchen. You don’t give it second thought.
You reach up, fingers aimlessly searching through the higher cabinet for the familiar feel of your meds. You couldn’t see so high up, so you were using your senses.
Slowly, a masculine hand comes into view and reaches into the cabinet beside you. Your blood runs cold. You didn’t see anyone behind you, you didn’t hear them either.
Your entire body freezes up before you suddenly dig your elbow into the man’s gut behind you, a loud groan of pain escaping him. You recognize the voice immediately and turn around to shove him back, glaring at his scrunched up blue eyes.
“Leon Scott Kennedy—“ You hiss, hand clutching your chest as you try to level your breathing. He stands in-front of you almost sheepishly, gently rubbing his stomach where you had struck him, a frown on his lips.
“Honey, what was that for? I was trying to help.”
“Help?! Where the hell did you come from?!” You snap back, clutching at your chest and leaning back against the counter behind you. He may have a good amount of years on you, but he was going to make you die young from a heart attack.
“I’m sorry, so sorry..” He whispers, gently pressing against you and nuzzling his stubble into your tangled hair. His limbs press cold against you, making you flinch softly. Thick arms wrap around your waist, your hair standing up on your own. He was cold, still, and with your head pressed against his burly chest, a small part of you tells you to lean in and listen for his heartbeat. To remind you this is your husband.
But you find none.
The following days are hell for you. You know there's something wrong with him, but you can't name it. You’re worried sick about what to do and if he’s even okay, but whenever you ask, he waves you off. Shrugs or laughs and tells you ‘You overthink, hun.’ It's nauseating, sharing a bed with a man who wears the skin of your husband but not the soul. Yet he still reaches for your hand in the dark, his cold touch only further pushing you away.
You were scared. Terrified, even. The nights grew longer, days more tiresome; you were unable to make them through without noticing things you didn’t want to notice. His lack of heartbeat, the unnatural chill lingering on his skin, his dead-silent breaths, darkened eyes, the hunger that flashes in them when he looks at you. Not the hunger a husband should have— something cannibalistic instead, something disgusting and rotten to the core. You’re terrified of your husband.
You can't pretend you don’t notice any of this, or that you’re able to wait it out until he decides to open up, or the delusional hope that’ll it wash over. The phone in your hand shakes as you call up the only number you could think of in the moment that would be able to help you.
“Hello?” You speak hesitantly, your voice hushed. You’re tucked into the dark corner of your living room late at night, Leon asleep in your bedroom. You had checked several times to make sure. A single candle is lit beside you on the small table.
“Chris Redfield here.”
“Chris!” You quickly whisper to him your name, alerting him you were Leons wife. He’s quick to recognize you, worry immediately grasping at his tone. Your body tightens in fear as his voice reaches to you. “Chris, I need your help. Leon—”
“Leon? You’re with him?” He gasps.
“Y-Yes?” A hard blink.
“You have to get out of there. We’ve been trying to contact him for days, he disappeared from our care and isn’t answering any calls and turned off his location services. He’s not safe.”
It's almost hard to hear Chris with how loud your heart is beating. Horror grabs at your legs, keeping you frozen in shock on the couch as you croak out a weak, "What's wrong with him?” Even if you knew you should get up immediately and run, you found it impossible to move your legs.
A moment of hesitation fills the call before he speaks. “He went on a mission to Romania and ran into Umbrella, if you know what that is.”
“Yeah, I do. And?” You usher, your voice small.
“They were making a virus, and he got infected. Its dangerous, he’s dangerous. The only reason he hasn’t killed you yet is probably because he loves you. But he’s not himself, he won't be able to make that difference for too long, so you need to get up, grab your stuff, and get out of that damn house!”
His sharp voice makes you snap back into reality. Your voice shakes as you stand up, holding the candle in your hand shakily as you wobble down the hallway. “T-The virus— What is it doing to h-him?”
“He… It's… It's a sick duplication of vampirism, is the best way to describe it.”
“He’s a vampire?”
You look up from your candle, slowly making eye contact with deep blue irises with no light in them. He stands before you, gaze flat and set down on you like a predator would do with its prey. The air runs cold as he silently closes his palm over the candle, bathing you both in darkness.
Chris calls out your name in confusion, but Leon slowly takes the phone from your hand, his fingertips making you shiver. He silently ends the call and sets the phone aside, staring down at you with an unpleased frown. Your body trembles, and he notices.
“Sweetheart,” He whispers, gently stepping forward until your breath brushed against his, “Why would you go to Chris when you could have just talked to me?” A large hand sets on your back, creeping up and pressing through the thin fabric of your silk-cami. You struggle to respond, mouth open but no words able to escape your throat. You never wanted to be scared of your husband.
“H-He— he said—”
He hushes you, his other hand going to brush your hair out of your soft cheek, before cupping it and gently squishing. “He was lying. I’d never hurt you, my love.”
You can't help but notice he didn’t correct the idea of him being infected.
“What.. about.. the virus part?” You choke out.
He hesitates, eyes slowly drifting down your body before snapping back up to yours. A frown washes over his face.
“I love you, you know that?”
“What?”
A soft cry leaves you as he suddenly latches his teeth into your neck, fangs breaking through your skin. The sensation tingled, a small sting, before your body slowly starts to feel lighter in his arms. You can feel your blood slowly being sucked out into his mouth, his soft tongue occasionally darting out to lick over the two punctured holes. Shaky whimpers leave you as your arms fly out, pushing and swatting at his large body.
“I love you, my sweet girl,” He whispers, pressing you against the wall behind you, his hand on your back reaching to gently grasp the back of your neck, tilting your throat just right for his mouth. Your legs flail around before falling limp, your body completely limp against his. “You’re such a good girl for this, I’ll reward you, okay? Just relax.”
His words only make you tear up, whimpering into his hair as his sucking slowly renders you useless in his arms. Wrapping around his shoulders, you push up into him, finally giving up control. You craved to be in your husband's arms again and to feel intimate with him after weeks of being apart, even the thought of him being a supernatural being didn’t scare you anymore. He was still your husband, and you loved him unconditionally. The pain in your neck slowly numbed.
He pulls away slowly, blood trickling down his chin as he stares down at you longingly. Gently, he connects his lips with yours, hands moving down to scoop up your body and hold you against him. Your legs wrap around his waist like second-hand nature, hands moving to cup his stubbled face as you kiss back deeply. Your tongues move against one another slowly, the taste of your blood making you moan. It was salty and metallic but gave the kiss taste.
Before you know it, your back was against the familiar warmth and plushness of your mattress, his heavy body grounding you into the bed. It was like dead weight drowning you into the sheets. Cold kisses, lingering caresses, slow touches and the rustling of clothing being pushed to the side. You don’t know when you end up naked, but next thing you know he’s between your thighs, hungrily lapping at your wet folds.
A sense of euphoria washes over you as you relax, body yielding to his touch. You cant control yourself at this point; you’ve fully surrendered to him. You feel as if you’re drunk on his touch, unable to breath without it. The moment he sank his fangs into your neck was the moment you were permanently his for eternity.
“Do you wanna be with me forever, sweetheart?” He whispers against your skin, large hands spreading you open by putting pressure on your thighs. Even while inhumane between your legs, you were always the first thing on his mind. The thought of being with you until the end of the world was all he craved.
“Forever?” You croak, another moan leaving you as he dives back down, sucking your clit between his lips with focus. Fingers rubbing soothing circles into your thighs, massaging your legs until you’re putty in his hands. The sensation of him is everywhere, starting from your head to your toes.
“Mhm. Just gotta trust me, love. Can you do that? Will you be a good girl?” He finally pulls away, leaning up to make eye contact with you. Warmth flutters from your heart at his voice, still as sweet and caring as the day you met him, hence why you married him. He always put your needs and love first.
“I l-love you, of course..” You nod eagerly, locking your lips with his passionately. His burly arms wrap around you, groaning in content as he quickly pushes his briefs down, thick cock springing out against his abdomen. Heavy, painfully hard, irritated and aching to be burrowed into your body. He doesn’t hesitate when he aligns himself with you, pulling back from the kiss to slowly intertwine your fingers and press a soft kiss to your cheek, watching closely to your expression as he pushes inch by agonizing inch, stretching you wide on him.
You almost can't breathe, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions, the pleasure, and even the pain. The hunger but love in his eyes as he slowly thrusts, whispering loving praises to you. He ushers you everything will be okay, and that when you wake up you’ll understand.
His teeth clamp down on your throat, fangs breaking through your skin once again. You cry out in pain underneath him, flinching and hugging him tighter. He groans at the taste of your blood filling his mouth, lapping it up hungrily while rolling his hips deeply into your tight warmth. You smelt like home and tasted like heaven.
“Leon, I’m— I cant— please,” You cry, trying to pull away from his teeth. It was starting to hurt, not like before— no, this time it was agonizing. Like he wasn’t planning on stopping until you were fully drained and nothing but a corpse underneath him. “Y-You’re scaring me..”
“No, no, no, baby,” He pulls away, his lips covered in your blood. He licks it away as he dives down to bite into his wrist, blood spilling down his forearm. The sight terrifies you, and you hiccup underneath him, trembling. Gently, he nuzzles you closer to his big chest, pressing warm kisses to your hairline. “You said you trust me, right?”
“M-Mhm.”
“Then be a good girl and drink this, okay?”
Your eyes slowly drift down to his bloody wrist, the thought of even consuming his blood nauseating you to your core. Your lips move to say no, but you can’t help but remember what he said. Together forever. So gradually, as if you were hypnotized, you lift your head and take the blood into your mouth. It stains the inside of your mouth as you lap at it for a short moment before pulling back sharply, as if you were snapped back to reality.
“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He hums, pushing you back down to lay underneath him. The blood staining your lips only makes him groan, starting back up a strong pace. His hips push against yours, snapping harshly. The sounds of skin-to-skin echo throughout the bedroom. His teeth latch back onto your neck, his hands holding you tight against him.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” He groans between long sucks, feeling your body slowly grow lighter in his grasp. Finally pulling back from your throat, he can see the light in your eyes slowly dim underneath him. With a weak smile, he presses one final kiss to your warm lips. “I’m gonna be here when you wake up, okay?” He brushes his thumb to your bottom lip, pressing down slightly before releasing you. It would be the last time he’d feel your skin warm and alive.
In your last few moments, you can feel your orgasm wash over your body, releasing on his cock as he moans deeply and burrows into your neck, clutching you tightly. His thrusts grow sloppy and inconsistent before he spills deep into you, holding onto you like a lifeline— yet there you were, dying slowly.
With one last shaky breath, he nudges his nose against yours, fangs glistening in the moonlight. “I’ll love you forever sweetheart, till death do us part.”
And when your body finally falls limp in his arms, he awaits till you rise once again, skin cold to the couch as fangs grow where humane canines once laid.
And reader wakes up as a vampire and they live happily ever after!!! No sad endings on my blog!!!
