#prettydykeprincess

[prettydykeprincess]

i’m so obsessed with the early re2 concept art and that artstyle, it’s so..cozy, idk retro? like some old tv era i missed i just love them so muchhh

Extra: SHEVA ALOMAR💞

i absolutely adore Claire’s old design omfg, she’s so ughhhh

[prettydykeprincess]

𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝐸𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝑀𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝑜((>ω< ))𝑜

is ts funny guys? o(TヘTo)

[prettydykeprincess]

𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝑀𝒾𝓃𝑒

summary: She only hits you up for sex, so why does she get so annoyed when you cut her off?

FWB Ada who leaves for months on end and shows up in your flat without warning expecting the same thing. It's clear there's so much more between you and her and yet...

pairing: FWB! Ada x fem reader

tags: slight angst- but comfort!, fluff

Title from All Mine by Brent Faiyaz (ethereal song check it out)

You and Ada hadn’t left off on a good note. Not to say that the way she left you before you woke up, but this time had been especially sour. You’d been awake, for starters.

She’d slipped out of bed and smooth as silk and gotten dressed while you decided whether or not to continue pretending to sleep. Being upset about it felt unfair, after all Ada had never once suggested that this was anything more than sexual. What did it matter that she left at the crack of dawn. You estimated how long she’d be gone until the next time, if it was anything like last time it’d be at the very least 2 months.

“Keep safe.” You heard before the door shuts.

Half whispered, half said but Ada doesn’t do anything not necessary. She knew you were awake, it just didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things to her.

Your feet had already dragged themselves out of your bed before you realised what you were doing, carrying you out the bedroom. She was already by the door, coffee in hand, another sitting on the table. You didn’t remember her leaving the bedroom, but there was so much that went unspoken and unnoticed when it came to you both.

“Where are you going this time?”

A casual question that fell flat somewhere in between your raspy morning voice and that edge of hurt that you couldn’t quite conceal.

“You know I can’t say.” Her voice felt cold, detached as her eyes, focused on the mug on the counter, as she pulled something out of her purse.

“I don’t want it.” You snapped. Whatever it was; a necklace, designer shoes, whatever your mouse had hovered on while online shopping, it wouldn't be enough. It was never enough. To breach that gap left gaping in your chest - ribcage peeled open - wings fluttering like those butterflies on her dress.

The only response she gave was the slight quirk of her eyebrow. Her hand lifted as if to bring it out still, then came out empty. Her lips pressed together silently.

Nothing was guaranteed. This could be the last time. How was it you always seemed to end up on the short end of this arrangement.

You opened your mouth to tell her not to come back, but something else entirely came out.

"I hope it's worth it." Bitter and clinging to your tongue like bad wine. You would drink in her presence like wine, if only it didn't leave you the same, disoriented and lost. Each time.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, looking at you properly. Likely scanning the fresh hurt on your face.

"This is just sex."

"Just say it is Ada. Say it's worth it, the money, the job."

You watched the tilt of her head with your heart pounding out of your chest. What did it mean to her? What was it called when a professional spy could lie so badly?

Her silence left you defeated, the bitterness seeping out of your like an open wound.

"You'll be late. Ada."

You retired back to your bedroom, and when you heard the click of your door shutting and locking you let yourself curl into your pillow like a wounded animal. Missing her.

Life had gone on without her, as it does. You couldn't say you 'got over it.' Ada wasn't something one could 'get over.' That was like getting over the Sun. Warm, or scorching, like it or not you're stuck in its orbit.

You pushed thoughts of Ada deep into your mind, delving into more work and outings with friends. You didn't near the dating scene yet. You didn't want to let your animosity towards Ada affect your next relationship, you told yourself. Not that you could call what you and Ada had a 'relationship.'

Perhaps some small part of you wanted Ada to call, to come back, to break the silence. You wanted to hurt her this time. But she didn't. And so just as you had excepted that maybe she no longer saw this thing you had going on as viable after your outburst, you got a text.

I’m in your city.  

That was it. Radio silence for 6 weeks but suddenly she was ‘in town’ so now she’d suddenly remembered your existence. Yearning and rage clouded your mind. You wanted to play a long game, clasp your hands around her, there would never be another Ada Wong. On the other hand you doubted there would ever be anyone else so infuriating? Coarse? Apathetic?   

Congrats. You texted back, and you would have been lying if you didn’t smile at your phone when you did it, watching three dots appear and then disappear just as fast. She’d get the hint.  

Or at least that’s what you had expected, you’d been laying in bed. Ruminating over it, perhaps wallowing if you wanted to be accurate. You’d had good times with Ada it was a shame she had to ruin it. Or perhaps you had, seeing something that wasn’t there. Either way it was over. You were shutting it down now, no more heartbreak-  

Fix your door.  

What the fuck did that mean?  

You didn’t get time to even see who the notification was because your front door slammed shut and in a panic, you grabbed the gun Ada had given you and shown you how to use from inside the nightstand.  

Your hands shook as you rounded the corner into the living room. Your grip faltered as you saw it was just Ada, but didn’t lower. She’d been waiting for you.  

“You’re not going to shoot me with my own gun, put that down.”  

She sounded tired, no, worn out. Weary. A tenor in her voice you’d never heard before. Tired, yes, but this?  

“You can have it back.”  

You placed it down on your marble countertop before walking back. You were tired too.  

She sighed, ignoring the gun and following you instead.  

“Ada, go home,” did she even have one? Seemed she was always coming home to you. “Or wherever else you go when you pretend I don’t exist.”  

“The jobs require radio silence, we’ve been over this.”  

You laid down on your bed, head facing the wall and she stayed standing, leaning against the doorframe. So close she was almost there with you, and just about to leave as always at the same time. Holding the same distance between you two as she always did. 

“Is that why you’re so upset? Because I didn’t call?”  

Her words are unusually tender, but you don’t care anymore. It’s too late.  

You turned around and sat up with a speed that even shocked yourself despite the fact she didn’t flinch.  

“Yes. Yes and because you don’t care. I don’t know why you do the things you do, give me gifts, teach me how to use a gun, you don’t care. You only come here for sex and you’re gone the next morning but you stay up all night tracing shapes into my back- I'm a convenience. And when it’s not convenient to see me, you don’t. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you Ada, don’t come to my city.”  

Your heart pummeled itself against your chest, eyes prickling. This had been a long time coming. Your words hissed out violent and defensive like a wounded animal, and she just looked at you, blank. Blank faced. Is that how it was, was all of this just nothing?  

She walked towards you, heels clicking into the tiles, sinking to her knees in front of yours, her hands cradle your face, wiping your tears. Her touch is so soft but you pull away.  

“You don’t care about me, you don’t.”  

Something flickered in her expression, something akin to pain twists her features for a second before her eyes meet yours again.  

“I do. None of this, seeing you isn’t convenient. I come here because I want to see you. I want you safe, I want you happy and I want you away from my lifestyle.”   

Her hands rest on your knees.  

“You’re important.”  

“Maybe, but I’ll never be more important than the next job. You’ll always leave.”   

Her eyebrow quirked again, a silence ‘challenge accepted.’   

She stood up.  

“I’m not leaving.” She sat next to you on the bed. Legs crossed.

 “Let me prove it to you.” 

She’d allowed herself to spend the night without a bag packed for the morning. Watching you sleep soundly in her arms, she wondered how she would navigate this.

She shouldn’t have told you she would stay. Shouldn’t have made such a brash decision yet the thought of losing you was worse.

Maybe it was time. After all, she had enough money to support her for at least a decade in itself. And she wanted you. She could let herself have this one nice thing, right? To hold you close to her heart every night.

Ada’s hand reached out for her phone but this time her thumb tapped the camera button. She took a picture of your blissful resting face, the conflict and sadness from before melted away into slumber.

Another candid for her collection then. These little moments, they were all hers.

[prettydykeprincess]

𝒯𝑒𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒶 𝑀𝑜𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔𝒷𝒾𝓇𝒹

summary: You get a little too drunk at a party and your friends have to call your girlfriend to pick you up, taking you home proves difficult when you're having mood swings

pairing: Grace Ashcroft x gn! (non-man) reader

>> I headcannon grace as a lesbian sorry guys

tags: alcohol, drunken behaviour, suggestive comments, fluff, angst but comfort, established relationship (like over a year), slight man-handling,

Grace couldn't blame your friends for not being able to tell the difference at first. After all you'd always been chatty and upbeat around people you liked but the call she got had seriously worried her.

You'd practically squealed into the phone, your words incomprehensible between the murmurs and giggles, it sounded like you were being physically held down more than anything, likely to do something silly. She had found herself going at almost 80 down a 70mph highway.

Now she was trying to get you to actually leave with her.

"Hey baby." You clung around her neck.

"Hey, hi to you too, uh we really need to go." Grace explained delicately again, trying to pry your arms from around her.

"You're drunk."

You giggled, looking into her eyes, your pupils were blown even with the glaring dance floor light. What the hell had you drunken?

"Well duh. Of course I'm drunk. It's a party-y, G. You know what a party is right? A party, party, you've probably never been invited to one though. Sorry didn't mean to say that it just slipped out."

You rested your chin on her shoulder. People had started to stare, you were clearly wasted, she was wearing a suit at a party, and it certainly didn't help with how loud you were.

The smell in the air was sticky and hot. Around a hundred bodies moving and sweating in a bar with poor ventilation and oak tables, that were practically begging to be cleaned, sticky with liquor residue.

The change from the crisp air outside to the stuffy heat was already starting to make Grace sweat, as if she didn't need more of a reason to want to leave.

"I know. Just- let's go to the car, okay?"

"Okay," You relented and Grace gave a sigh of relief.

You started to walk off, and she had to chase you, guiding you to rest on her as you walked.

Her mind was buzzing. What had you taken? How much? What if you were suffering from alcohol poisoning? You smelt like citrus and hand sanitizer. Vodka?

"Mm." You murmured as Grace unlocked her car, wiping nervous sweat from her forehead.

Was it better to put you in the passenger seat or the back? The back, the child lock was still on because of Emily, so you wouldn't be able to open the car door and stumble out onto the tarmac. Yeah, the back seat would be okay.

"Um, hey- I'm gonna put you in the back, okay? For your safety." Grace opened the car door and you whined in response.

"Why? It's fine, It's fine, I can drive. No biggie." You sniffled, leading against the front seat.

"Hey, no you definitely cannot drive, okay? That's against the law, you could get hurt, hurt someone el-

Her train of thought was soon derailed by you opening the front door and sitting in the driver seat.

"Hey!"

Grace caught your arm, before you could close the door, wedging herself between the car door and the car.

"Come on, don't do this." She pleaded with you. You were stubborn enough on a normal day, this was hell. An after a long day socialising with co-workers, Grace really just wanted to get to sleep.

"I'm not that drunk, Grace."

"No that's not even-" She sighed, pulling you out the car, gently despite your fingers, clinging to the seat. Her hand firmly on your shoulder. You pushed back and her grip became stronger, but not painful.

"Let's go, come on."

Finally she got you out and into the backseat.

"There we go," She watched you buckle yourself in.

"Good job."

Grace started the engine, and reversing from her parking spot. The drive home started silent enough, the roads were pretty empty, the rain started and was light and calming, and it wasn't too cold. Grace felt herself calming down. You'd be fine, maybe a little hungover tomorrow and then she could ask you what happened.

What was it that you were trying to forget?

"Grace?" You murmured, eyes closed. Grace adjusted her rearview mirror so she could see you better.

"Yeah?"

"I feel bad, I don't feel well."

"In what way, are you going to be sick? Do you want me to pull over?" Her questions rapid-fired, already looking for the next hard shoulder on the highway.

You sniffled, whimpering.

"I'm sorry you had to come get me. Sorry you had to drive after... work." You sniffled again, tearing up.

"Oh." It had just dawned of Grace that she could've have been bothered by your behaviour and the inconvience of it all. She only really been preoccupied with getting you home safe.

"It's fine, I-I don't mind, promise."

"Still, you're not obligiated..."

Grace looked back and was caught of guard at seeing your miserable face. She didn't think she'd ever seen you like this. In fact with all she'd endured Wrenwood City and Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center, you'd been caring for her. Was that what was bothering you? She hoped not.

"Hey, hey don't cry, I-um, I mean you can cry if you want, I meant- I'm not obligated, I know that, but I want to. You're my girlfriend, and I love you so, I want to help and I want to drive us home."

"For real?"

"For real, yeah."

"You're weird."

Grace shook her head, a small laugh leaving her lips. At least you'd stopped crying for the most part.

Emily had been fast asleep and you'd managed to keep it quiet enough for it to stay that way, something Grace was infinitely grateful for.

Now that she had helped you to clean up and get in bed, she slipped in next to you, turning off the lights intending to get a good night's rest. She felt you snuggle against her back, arms wrapping around her middle but she didn't mind that, and she was just about to drift off when she heard your voice again.

"You're gonna be okay, right?" Your voice was muffled into her tanktop and your words slurred, and she only just caught what you said.

"Hm? Yeah, w-why ask?"

"What if I can't really, I can't and something happens to you, I should have."

Grace felt her heart splitting, this wasn't mindless drunk babble.

"What- what are you saying, you should've what?"

"Haved protected...you. Grace."

Grace turned around, her blue eyes staring into yours.

"You don't really think that right? There's nothing you could've done to help me, you didn't even know. You can't blame yourself for something that had nothing to do with you."

Easier said that done. Grace knew she was a hypocrite. She blamed herself for what happened to her mom sometimes. If only she hadn't been so slow... so scared...

"It's not your fault."

"It's feelss like that. I knew you were going to the hotel... i lett you go alone."

"That's not- even if you were there, I don't think you could have helped me, I mean I only had one gun- I. I'm glad you weren't."

"You were so scared." Your voice shook as if relieving the moment you ran into the police station, seeing Grace wounded and stained with blood.

"I'm not scared anymore, okay? I've got you. I know you'll protect me."

The bedroom was silent, the roads were pretty empty, the rain was light and calming and it wasn't too cold, she left you fall asleep like that, your head nestled against her neck.

I hate this because there's no smut （；´д｀）ゞ

[prettydykeprincess]

[prettydykeprincess]

𝓜𝓪𝓲𝓭 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽

summary: Lady Dimitrescu picks up on your curiosity about her cigarette holder.

pairing: Lady Dimitrescu x maid reader

tags: Smoking, fluff, RE: Village, suggestive themes, corruption?

Disclaimer: Smoking is bad for your health, Smoking kills.

You found that your Lady called upon you more often these days, for nothing in particular at all. Perhaps it would be to clean a solitary bookshelf, or to refill her glass - yet the wine bottle stayed right beside her on her desk? Whatever the case was you found yourself in her room once more, approach her huge vanity and tries to ignore the curdling feeling that always nestled in your stomach when it came to the woman.

She took a deep exhale, the cigarette holder moving away from her lips, face still facing the window rather than by the wall where you cowered. At first you had been surprised to learn Lady Dimitrescu smoked, she was the kind of woman who seemed to have everything in specific order and was meticulous about it all, you assumed that included her health. You looked back on how foolish those thoughts were, the woman was over a century old. Smoking certainly wouldn't harm her.

You were still staring when she turned suddenly, piercing amber eyes locked onto you like a lioness stalking its prey.

"Come closer, I have something to show you."

God, had you missed a spot? You swallowed back your terror, approaching her tall stature with precaution. Everyday you thought of how just a push from her would send you flying. Your head only met her hips. It was throughly unnerving and yet exhilarating.

That's how you found yourself balanced precariously on your Lady's thigh, legs uncomfortably clinging around it like some novice rodeo rider. If Lady's Dimitrescu could feel your squirming or the heat running through you from the compromising position she didn't show it.

She lit a new cigarette and took a slow, lethargic drag before bringing the end of the cigarette holder to your mouth, her other hand dropping the lighter and resting loosely on your hip. You almost shivered at the contact.

"Go on. You ought to try it if you're so intrigued by it."

You hadn't smoked before. Of course you hadn't. The maids of Castle Dimitrescu were picked to be virgin maidens not just in body but in their lifestyles. You'd spent your entire lifestyle being pure.

Her thumb dragged against the fabric of your dress on your side rhythmically and you felt your arousal growing. Pathetic. Disgusting. You leaned in and drew it in, slow you were supposed to do it slow, you thought.

You breathed in too much and the next thing you knew you were coughing, your body lurched forward in the reflex and Lady Dimitrescu's grip tightened on your hip, her other hand taking the holder away.

"Breathe. You're supposed to inhale, not try to swallow it." She chuckled, her other hand coming to pet your hair as your coughing subsided, she hummed amused.

"Good girl."

AN:/ Had my first exam today and it was pretty good. Really wanted to write a quick drabble for Lady Dimitrescu i'll add it to my masterlist another time cuz it's really late for me :P

[prettydykeprincess]

𝒮𝓀𝒾𝓅 𝒹𝒶𝓎

summary: reader gets her heat but luckily her girlfriend arrives just on time to help her out

(it’s just grace porn idk what u guys want me to say 😭)

pairing: Grace Ashcroft x fem reader

tags: Omegaverse, Beta Grace Ashcroft x Omega reader, SMUT yes, service sub Grace, dominant (ish) reader, sexy consent, college au

not proofread, unlikely to be spelling mistakes probably a missed semicolon or something

You’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed, as some would say. You knew the day would be shit the second you thought you’d pissed yourself.

Albeit that was the better alternative from the truth. You’d got your heat, and even though you’d been expecting it, it didn’t make it any less agonising. You knew you being on health suppressants 24/7, 365 days of the year wasn’t healthy so you’d taken a month off, and forgotten about it and now the consequences of that was coming full force to slap you in the face.

Why couldn’t you have just been born a Beta for god’s sake? Goddamnn it.

You slipped out of bed, grabbing your phone from your nightstand, legs already weak and lower abdomen burning. You stumbled your way to the bathroom, resting against the sink as you tried to clean the mess between your legs with toilet paper.

It suddenly occurred to you that you’d have to call in sick. No, no, no, no. Fuck.

There was a reason it took you so long to break into your career. Scholarships didn’t like Omegas it was a well known fact. Their perceived submissiveness, disruptive heats and the sheer domination of Alphas in important positions meant most Omegas either were uneducated, got mediocre grades, or had tutors if lucky and rich.

You’d hadn’t got lucky, it’d taken effort because you hadn’t just had to be good, you had to be the best. If they would pick an Alpha with lower qualifications over you, you had to be so good that your secondary gender didn’t even enter the conversation.

So you did that. This would expose everything you had tried to not show. Weakness. You’d worked so hard at pretending you got mistaken for a Beta multiple times. This would ruin that. Everyone would know.

You bit back your tears in anger, it’s not like crying would solve anything and it’d only make you feel weaker. You felt your clit throb, hole clenching over nothing, spasming and you almost dropped your phone in the sink.

You’d slumped down on your cold, closed toilet seat and pulled out your phone. Your knuckles gripped your phone instinctively, already sweating. This wouldn’t stop. The slick builded up between your legs. If you could get yourself to your abandoned nest from your last nest in the corner of your bedroom, you could ‘attempt’ to sleep it off, but that only worked if you got up.

The doorbell rang, and then you heard the sound of keys jangling, the click of the door unlocking and someone walking in. For fuck’s sake. The last person you wanted to see you like this and the only person who could help. Grace Ashcroft.

Grace had known your heat would start today, it’s why she decided to come early after stopping at the store, both hands chock-full of with bags. She’d panicked. Just a little. I mean, this was her partner’s first heat, could you blame her for being nervous?

Sure she’d read for hours on symptoms, and treatments and what helped and nesting and yet she still felt thoroughly unprepared for what she was about to walk into.

“Hey, I-er, I’m coming in. It’s me, Grace.”

She heard a weak groan and immediately dropped the bags by the door, rushing through the rooms of your flat, looking for you. What if you were hurt?

“Are you okay?”

You’d answered but she hadn’t heard it, not that she needed to. The further she delved into your college housing, the stronger the sickeningly sweet smell of apple cinnamon lingered in the air, and although it had no sexual effect on her, it was almost nauseating in its strength.

Grace found you in the bathroom, head in your arms on the marble sink, while your body trembled.

“You- you have to email my teachers, that I’m not coming in. Pl-lease.”

Your voice sounded hoarse and laboured. You wanted to crawl out of your body, you were soaked and irritable and needy.

“O- Okay.” Grace fumbled with her words. You couldn’t even look her in the eyes and everything she’d read had just gone flying on the window.

“What can I- How can I help you..? Can you stand?”

You shook your head, it still nestled in your arms refusing to look at her. It was hard enough for her words to register in your mind when you were trying your hardest to remind yourself how much of a bad idea it would be to hump the side of the bathroom sink.

“Do you want me to carry you?”

Her voice was soft; words came out tentative, testing the waters. She felt out of her depth but also wanted to be there for you no matter what.

You thought about it for a long time. Part of you wanted to prove yourself for whatever reason. To get up and to walk yourself upstairs despite the pain. And part of you knew that there was nothing to prove. At least to Grace. She wouldn’t care if she had to help you, she liked that. You weren’t sure how your body would react to being so close to someone you were so attracted to, but you pushed that out of your head as you looked up at her and nodded feebly.

Grace bit her lip, finally seeing your face. Eyes glassy, lips slightly parted like you weren’t getting enough oxygen still, your face - slightly wet with sweat and eyebrows furrowed.

How did you manage to look so perfect even now?

She moved forward, gently lifting you into her arms, your legs around her waist, resting over her hips.

You moaned as your front pressed against her stomach, something Grace definitely heard and ignored, rubbing your back.

“I’ve got you, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

You nestled your face into her shoulder taking in her scent. It was faint, like most betas, but all your scenes were heightened. She smelt like patchouli, lavender and sea salt and the smell of clean clothes and detergent.

“I don’t want this.” You whined against your will, arms and legs tightening around her as she used her leg to nudge your bedroom door open.

“I know, I know. You’re doing so well, yeah? Because actually, you managed to get all the way to the bathroom, so yeah. That was good.”

Grace considered melting into the furniture.

“Mhm.” You gave a non-committal grunt.

Grace finally placed you down in your nest, sitting down next to you and pulling out her phone.

“I, I’m gonna send that email, hold on.”

Fuck, you regretted everything. Fuck the email you wanted Grace to fuck you.

Her hands fidgeted as she typed into her phone and you nestled in her side again, letting out an involuntary whine that made Grace turn to look at you and your whole body burn.

“Do you want this?” Her blue eyes pierced into you, her hands tugging on the hem of her sweater. Before you could answer, she took it off and put it next to you.

“Here, now you have something else that smells like me to add to your nest.” She smiled.

Grace felt like she should physically help you. She wasn’t stranger to heats, she’d been in sex-ed classes and furthermore she’d researched it - but she didn’t want to make that jump unless you initiated it. She definitely didn’t want to pressure you into having sex with her.

She watched as you buried your face in her sweater, blissfully unaware of the moans you were muffling.

During all her typing you’d realised you’d had enough in between fighting back tears, your soaker underwear and your clit throbbing angrily, you’d decided you couldn’t wait.

You grabbed her arm, laying on your stomach.

“Grace.” You said firmly and hoarsely, voice barely concealing your need.

“Yeah,” She looked up from her phone distractedly. “Yeah? What is it?”

You took a deep breath, but to be honest you didn’t have any energy left from dealing with body tremors and cramps to be embarrassed.

“Please fuck me.”

Grace certainly expected you to ask but was caught of guard with how blunt you were.

“Y-Yeah, um, yeah no problem- um.” She mumbled, her cheeks dusted pink

She got up and you watched her deer-in-the-headlights expression as she looked at your bedroom door.

“I brought something for this, just one sec.”

You would of laughed at her preparedness if you didn’t just want her to get on with it.

“Okay.” You groaned. “Hurry.”

Grace rummaged through the bags, trying to find what she was looking for while keeping her anxiety at bay. She knew this moment would come, and it wasn’t like you hadn’t had sex before: it just hadn’t been like this. You hadn’t been this vulnerable yet.

Grace quickly pulled out the strap harness and dildo out of her bag rushing back to you.

When she came back into the room you were practically panting, scent enveloping the entire room.

“I-um, I read that penetration helps more, so I got this, we don’t have to use it but-“

Her words came tumbling out and you cut her off.

“P-please just- I really can’t-tt take it anymore..”

Your pussy was spasming constantly now, and your fingers gripped the blankets and clothes beneath you just to hold you in a seating position.

Grace fumbled around with the strap harness, finally getting it on. She thought she looked a little stupid like this, she’s bought it in your favourite colour. Was that weird to do? She was still fully dressed but she doubted you could wait any longer for her to take her clothes off.

“Okay, a-are you sure?”

“Yes, I swear to god Grace.”

“Okay, okay.”

Her kisses started slow, reverent; down your neck, to your collarbone and then back to your lips. You kissed her like a drowning man begging for air, almost pulling her on top of you. You leaned into her, whimpering into her mouth and her hands came to your hips holding them in place, as if to tell you to calm down.

“Hey, take it easy…”

She murmured, one hand up your shirt, tracing cupping your breasts, the other by your waistband. You were too desperate for her to notice the irony.

“Can I?” Grace asked, her hand raising the hem of your shirt, you nodded fervently.

“Yes, yes please.”

Grace lifted your shirt, her hands already at your breasts, caressing them. She rubbed her thumb over a hard nipple and you moaned, already sensitive.

“God they’re so- your tits are so fucking perfect.”

She said hoarsely, giving your right breast a firm squeeze that felt like an electric shock went through you.

She leaned into you, her lips placing kissed on your areola before sucking on your nipple. You squirmed, your hands gripping her hair. Your head was reeling, your clit throbbing so much you’d think it had its own heart beat.

“Grace, fuck pllease just…” your breath hitched.

“Okay, yeah um, let’s handle that.”

She delicately peeled your shorts and underwear down, her breath hitched at the sign of your glistening pussy.

“Oh, oh wow uh- guess we won’t need the lube I brought then…”

Grace’s eyes widened and she rubbed her neck nervously. You looked at her, your glare speaking volumes.

Her fingers slipped into your folds and she circled her index finger over your already sensitive clit. Your legs tensed, and she kept on hand on your knee to keep you steady and open for her.

Grace let out a gasp at the wet squelching sounds from your drenched hole as her finger slowly rubbed against you.

“This is okay, right?”

“Yes, fuck yes, don’t you d-dare stop.”

Grace nodded, eyebrows furrowed as she focused on your pleasure alone - her fingers ran tighter circles while her lips met your chest once more, hand slipping up to your hips, leaning forward until she was almost on top of you, strap poking you in the stomach.

You bucked into her hand sporadically, the moans leaving your lips borderline pornographic. It wasn’t long after that Grace finally built up the courage to use the strap, her mouth pulling away from your tits.

You stared up at her anxiety mixing with lust as her hands rested on the knees of your spread legs.

“You’d let me know if it hurts right?”

God, she was so sweet.

“Yes. Yes I would.” Your voice trembled ever so slightly and Grace lined up the strap with your entrance, you felt sparks under your skin as it brushed your inner folds.

Grace tried to lower herself slowly but the slick meant she bottomed out almost immediately. Your fingers dug into the bed as you moaned loudly.

“Shit, shit are you okay?” Grace started to pull out and you gripped her wrist, mind hazy.

“Yes, fuck don’t. Keep going, keep going baby.”

She initially kept her thrusts slow and deep, searching for that spot she kept reading about while her fingers found your clit again. She was amateur; not that you cared. Thrusts out of rhythm, accompanied by the beautiful symphony of her little gasps and grunts as if she could feel you clenching around her strap. You’d believe her if she said she could.

“More… more I’m getting close.”

You threw your head back, and Grace watched your tits bounce with her thrusts and felt herself getting wetter. You were so loud and unashamed, and stunning, she couldn’t keep her eyes off you and that perfect mouth.

“F-fuck you’re practically swallowing me.” Grace mumbled, her thrusts stuttering as she felt the rising tension within her.

She found that spot that made you whimper the loudest and her strap hit it rhythmically, rapid and shallow as her fingers changed from circling to rubbing your clit, giving you almost constant friction.

“Grace- Grace, fuck I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna c-cum don’t stop-

Your words came tumbling out as you orgasmed, your pussy clenching around her strap as your cum covered it and her jeans. Grace helped you ride it out, her strap stationary but her fingers gently rubbing; forwards, backwards, forwards, backwards. Until you came down from your high, breath as laboured as hers.

You finally felt some semblance of relief.

“H-holy shit.” Grace stared at you wide-eyed and you suddenly felt so exposed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever made you cum so hard.”

You snorted.

“Don’t get cocky,” you chuckled, “besides, I’m not the one who came untouched.”

You gestured at the damp patch at the crotch of her jeans. She’d likely been so focused on your pleasure she hadn’t even noticed. Her face blushed bright pink.

“That’s- I, I didn’t know I could do that.”

“It’s fine,” you looked up at her, her sweaty afterglow mesmerising. “It was very sexy.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, just both of your heavy breathing and the ticking of your alarm clock.

“Should I still send the email?”

A/N: Sick day, or should i say 'slick day' (i'm such a fat fucking chud omg) holiday in orlando is doing wonders for my writing i feel so energised!! god i love you Grace Ashcroft "Should i still send the email?" she asked, strap still deep in your cunt she's such a dork

[prettydykeprincess]

𝐸𝓍𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔

summary: You're an evil morally ambigious scientist, and while operating within infected areas, and studying the virus' effects you get tangled up the affairs of certain individuals

pairings: Leon Kennedy x gn! reader, Ada Wong x gn! reader, Albert Wesker x gn! reader, Grace Ashcroft x gn! reader

tags: headcannons, multiple characters, resident evil, evil scientists, mentions of animal/human testing, unethical experiments, no specific time period

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃 𝒮. 𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓃𝑒𝒹𝓎

𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓉𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇

legally he should have taken you out of commisson the first time you both met and destroyed your work

unfortunately found out he enjoyed human contact without worrying about being murdered or betrayed

you have nothing to gain as your deal isn't to make bio-weapons but to study them

would be lying if he said he didn't find you interesting despite your actions

does his best to protect you from harm but feels conflicted in doing so, after all you are indirectly contributing to the spread of the virus strains, aren't you?

you both have a little flirting going on, he's saved you too many times to count, and you always know the area more than him, due to being in it longer and so you give him tips

He admires your dedication to your craft but you'd have to stop experimenting on people and animals before he'd seriously consider a relationship with you

doesn't go any further than intimate talks

rests in the back of your makeshift labs

𝒜𝒹𝒶 𝒲𝑜𝓃𝑔

𝒮𝓊𝓅𝓅𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓇

Doesn't really judge your actions, is happy enough if they don't affect her

when they do, you'd better make sure it's worthwhile

you pay well but honestly she has a massive soft spot for cute things anyway

somehow always gets you a sample of the virus, even when she's 'busy'

you keep developing new vaccines to stop her from getting ill. You both know it's not sustainable

very interested in your work, if not just to hear you talk. even if you just make vaccines so she can keep getting you stuff, she appreciates the care

you still haven't managed to convince her to be your test subject (not that you'd really do that, you'd miss her too much)

isn't around enough to be your 'protector' but if you called she'd show up. She usually does.

definitely fingered you over your work desk, the missions you keep sending her on are stressful and she needs to let some steam once in a while o((>ω< ))o

𝒜𝓁𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓉 𝒲𝑒𝓈𝓀𝑒𝓇

𝑅𝒾𝓋𝒶𝓁

still tryna convince himself he hates your guts (it's a lie)

whatever you want he usually wants or already has

you avidly steal from him, (sometimes using Ada mostly using other people)

bro is furious

steals from you and finds himself mulling over your detailed notes, learning about you from a primary source - it's almost intimate

you noticed your notes were gone and that's how you both started trading notes when stealing from each other

out here leaving dirty notes in his lab like some medieval form of sexting

he definitely has no time for romance, but sex on the other hand...

when you both are in the same area, it gets heated fast

rough 'hate'-sex, after all he's lost millions over you

𝒢𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝒸𝓇𝑜𝒻𝓉

𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒸𝓊𝑒𝑒

tried to shoot you the first time she saw you

okay, but like fair enough you were testing on an infected huge rat

unfortunately for her, her aim was off because her arm was shaking

you help her a lot but mostly because you're running your own experiment on whether she'll actually survive

terrified of you

comes to your lab, drenched in blood and hyperventilating and you just take care of it

increasingly disturbed by your work and doesn't fully believe you when you say you're not working with Victor Gideon

won't bite the hand that feeds her though

flirting omg, she's usually way too out of it to catch on.

your hand threads through her hair as she cries, half delirious, you've known her for only a couple hours and now you know her entire life story

intended to save you too, but when she comes back for you after the collapse and you're nowhere to be found. She knows you're not dead.

i had a really funny joke to put her but i've now forgotten (#｀-_ゝ-)